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Superman Heckled By Bystander
(METROPOLIS) Friday afternoon, a man standing on a nearby sidewalk heckled Superman as he attempted to save a bus full of school children.
Superman’s arch-nemesis, Doomsday, had taken the entire bus hostage as a part of a reoccurring attempt at world domination. Superman was attempting to lift the bus above his head to relative safety when he heard someone making sarcastic comments from a few yards away.
The man’s alleged comments ranged from “Oh, I’m sure that’s really heavy” to “Must be really scared, being invincible and all”. According to reports, he then simply exclaimed “Boring!” in two extended syllables and walked away. If reports are accurate, this would be a feat of heckling that is surpassed only by Matthias Son of Jaden, the man who heckled Christ as he fed thousands from five loaves and two fish.
In a press conference following the incident, Superman admitted that the event was hurtful, and a personal first, although a drunken homeless man had once mistaken him for a bird and then a plane, only recognizing him as Superman when he was inches away from his face.
“I go to parties,” he said, “it’s always the same. ‘Bank robbery last week, Superman, stolen warheads, Superman. Nobody cares what I think about the new Coldplay album. My kids wear Spiderman pajamas to bed. How do you think that makes me feel? I’m only human.”
It was at this point that a conference attendee pointed out that Superman was not, in fact, human, but a first-order Kandorian named Kal-El, to which the crowd responded with chants of “Geek. Geek. Geek. Geek.”
In an age where CGI and other effects have made the miraculous commonplace, superheroes are finding it harder and harder to attract positive attention. Last month, the masked superhero Batman arrived on a crime scene only to face speculation that he was “totally Photoshopped”. When he preceded to end a three-man armed robbery, the clerk informed him that it would have been way cooler if he had backflipped over the second gunman rather than just punching him in the face. This came only days after a horrifying incident involving Mr. Wiggles the Clown, who was savagely beaten after being mistaken as a member of the supervillain Joker’s gang. Batman’s agent informed the press that Mr. Wiggles had unwittingly stopped at the bank in the midst of a heist, and was simply “in the wrong place at the wrong time”.
When the conference continued, Superman leveled with the crowd, showing an openness that has been rare among caped crusaders following the controversial coverage of Aquaman’s messy divorce from a bottle-nosed dolphin.
“I get dressed in telephone booths. It’s just what I do. But now with cell phones, they’re impossible to find, so it’s more difficult. I got kicked out of an Olive Garden last Monday.”
He went on to admit that the contemporary public seems to see him as too blunt and one-dimensional, saying that modern-day superheroes “have all this angst. People don’t like it when you’re near-untouchable and not tortured by dozens of inner demons.” Superman also pointed out that although Krypton is supposedly the rarest mineral in the galaxy, most of his major enemies have no problem acquiring large quantities of it.
Meanwhile, other, lesser-known superheroes have seen this as their chance to fill the void created by the changing times.
“I’m honestly excited,” said local crime-fighter Passive-Aggressive Man. “It would be great to be able to take the place of an established Superhero. I mean, if not – that’s okay, I don’t have to, you know, it was just a thought. I’m just hoping.”
Either way, most seem to be hoping that the heckling was a one-time incident – fearing that it’s only a matter of time before someone is vaporized for mocking the wrong brightly colored tights. Ultimately, Superman has resolved to memorize a string of witty comebacks to keep the incident from happening again.
“For instance, I’ll say – I can pick up this bus. Just as long as your mother isn’t on it. Because she’s fat,” he said, laughing heartily.
So for now, hecklers, if not their family-conscious egos, are safe.
Art and the Open-Hand Slap
Art is, by its very nature, difficult to define. Especially because, when you talk about art, you have to use phrases like “by its very nature” to sound intelligent and cultured.
This is why, when I visit art museums, I use words like “hardcore”, “ultra”, and some version of the word “freak”. As in, “That Van Gogh is so freaking ultra hardcore. I’m going to freak out.” This is usually accompanied by a fist pump. I sometimes follow that with a generalization about the artist’s sexual prowess, like “This is why modern-artist-Lucian-Freud gets all the ladies.” Which incidentally is true. He’s reportedly fathered over fifty children.
When the enlightened masses go to art galleries they seem to enjoy speaking poetically about the incredible energy and emotion of a particular piece, and then they just stand around quietly making intelligent humming noises. This confuses me.
Art galleries need the kind of passion usually reserved for drunken break ups.
“Oh, he did not just use that magenta – using magenta like he knows me. He does not know me.”
The problem with this whole concept is that it takes a certain kind of person to look at a five foot piece of colored square and say, “Yes, this is easily worth at least as much as my house because it has excellent line and tonal qualities.” And this is not the same kind of person that will get into a fist fight if you insult his mother. More likely, you’ll have a very frank discussion over Honey Ginseng Green Tea that may or may not end in quiet tears. At the very most, you might end up on the receiving end of an open-hand slap.
It seems unfair to single out things like painting for not having the attitude of the average cage fighting fan, but Fine Art is the only art that seems to get a capital ‘A’ other than people named Art, so it kind of gets its own category. When cornered, a piece of art will inevitably start to reflect society. That landscape of Paris? A commentary on society. The same landscape with the Eiffel tower crossed out and replaced with three unicorns impaling the American flag? A commentary on society. And guess which one probably sells for more. Better yet is the ridiculous piece of art that’s considered not a ridiculous piece of art because people think it’s a commentary on how other art is ridiculous.
Of course, at this point, I’ve taken that annoying cynical tone that makes it sound like I know what I’m talking about. The truth is, I’m ignorant enough to still assume that most artists wear berets and speak with French accents. And it secretly disappoints me when they don’t. And while others are having intelligent conversation, I’m still tempted to read the title of an artwork like the caption of a cartoon.
The hard thing about art is that everything’s been done. It’s also one of the most subjective things on the planet, and one of the few professions where a major psychological disorder can be considered an advantage, besides politics and being the lead singer of a band. If art needs passion, it also needs understanding, and the two are hard to get at the same time.
And now, for something completely different, the most awesome videogame ever. No really, it exists.
Man Refuses to Shun Stereotype
CHICAGO – A man who stopped taking dance lessons at a local studio returned to his home on the North Side only to be informed by friends that he had validated a racial stereotype. Robert Patterson had enrolled in the class on a whim, but then quit, citing the monthly fees as “not worth it”. The twenty-six year old intern had planned to use the extra money to pay for a cable bill and felt that the studio environment was “kind of gay”. Only after it was too late did he realize that the general public might assume that he quit because “white people can’t dance.”
Mr. Patterson assured us that he normally goes to great lengths to avoid racial stereotypes. “I’m careful,” he said. “I haven’t high-fived anyone for months. It’s just a shame.” However, it quickly became apparent that the dancing issue was not the only ethnic label being promoted. Robert informed us that his friend Jeff, a man of African-American descent, had not only recently played basketball, but had also continued listening to a Kanye West album even after being told that it was considered “rap”. And as Robert told us, ethnic balance was a very important to the relationship. “I mean, honestly, otherwise I don’t know if we would hang out. But I have to have a friend who’s black, or else people will think I’m a racist.” Jeff cited similar problems with Robert. “Sometimes I’m going for a high five, and he wants to do this complicated handshake thing where he grabs my hand and then pulls it in so he can do a chest bump with a one-armed man hug. And I’m sick of him calling me ‘homes’. Seriously.”
In a society where interracial marriages are increasingly common, children of mixed race often have a hard time knowing which racial stereotypes to avoid. Audrey Wu, a high school student with parents of both Asian and Caucasian descent, relayed her frustration. “It makes math class difficult – if I do well, I become the ‘Nerdy Asian’, but if I don’t, I become the typical ‘Dumb White Kid’. I’ve been forced to carefully maintain a solid B average somewhere between an 83 and 87 percent.” Tiger Woods, the world-famous golfer, has African and Asian heritage, which he says has kept him from participating in his true sport of choice, Shoalin Ki – a form of Kung Fu in which participants also play improvised Blues music.
Candice Hobart, a spokesperson for Angry People Holding Signs and Speaking Loudly, had this to say: “We need to educate people. Take two groups that are often stereotyped, Women and the Chinese. Between them they make up about 66% of the world population. That means the majority of people are minorities – so we need to educate the average ignorant, biased, yokel about not making unfair generalizations.” Local man Joe James Thompson had concerns of his own. “I’m a Klu Klux Klan member. This is taking attention away from those of us who are truly hateful. How else am I supposed to project my abusive and alcohol-ridden childhood onto others? You just tell me that.”
Last May, the affirmative action lobby Creating Equality by Treating Certain Races Differently organized a march on the Washington Monument, a landmark they claimed was offensive because it was completely white. They also noted that none of the textbooks used in US public schools depicted Washington as a minority race, which led to another march three days later. Others are not as worried. Nathan Johnson, Robert’s neighbor, showed us his Different Strokes DVD’s and a poster, in which a man is testing positive for color blindness, which he assured us was his favorite. “I’m not worried,” he told us, ” Color blindness – is contagious. Not the actual color blindness that makes me dress like this, but the hypothetical, racial kind. It’s contagious.”
As for Robert Patterson, there are no plans to go back to the dance studio in the near future. “After all,” he said, “I can totally dance. Just check out my DDR scores.”
Tagged: race, satire, stereotypes
Drugs and Coffee
There are some people everyone hates. As an example, everyone hates drug dealers. I’ve heard people say “Oh, he just drinks a little too much now and then.” I’ve never heard someone say, “Oh, he just sells a little too much cocaine-laced heroin now and then”. The general consensus seems to be, “if you sell drugs, you end up next to Osama Bin Laden on the list of people I would hypothetically kill if given the chance. If you sell them to kids, be I a nun or a librarian, I will still go out of the way to hit you with my car.”
Unfortunately, if I can’t find a summer job, I might be forced to deal drugs. This could be difficult, since the only things I know about narcotics come from ex-stoner friends and the movie Requiem For A Dream. Luckily, I’ve listened to enough rap music that I should be able to get by.
“Hey.”
“What up homes – if you got weight, I’m pushing the pure direct.”
“What the hell did you just say?”
“I’m selling drugs.”
“Oh.”
For an added touch, I could put Happy Meal toys in the bags so people could bring them home to their kids. To be fair, some drugs are classified as ‘recreational’, but that also kind of redefines recreation to include spending three hours telling your deepest secrets to your wallpaper only to eventually realize that it cannot reciprocate human emotion.
Pending legislation in California, selling drugs might eventually become legal. You have to wonder how that would look on Career Day at the local elementary school.
“This is Ronnie’s Dad. His name is Herbert Jones and he sells marijuana on the streets of Santa Barbara. Go ahead, Mr. Jones.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Pendleton. Well, my job is based on supply and demand. People demand hallucinogenic chemicals, and I, in turn, supply them. Jimmy, your dad enjoys a blunt now and then, doesn’t he? Of course he does. And you remember how Ben’s dad, the lawyer, said that sometimes he has to question people to see if they’ve stolen things? Well I do a lot of that too, except where Ben’s dad uses rhetoric and litigation, I use these twin glock pistols and all manner of shouted profanity. Now, if it’s okay with your teacher, I’m going to show you how I add baking soda to cocaine to make more cocaine.”
In 1843, Karl Marx said that ‘religion was the opiate of the masses’. And then heroin was invented and marketed as a non-addictive cough medicine. As it turns out, opium is the opiate of the masses. Ultimately, housewives got tired of their six-years-olds stealing money and blaming it on purple dragons and by 1924, it was outlawed. Now, about 55% of Americans are medically addicted to caffeine, which makes your average Starbucks employee only slightly less intimidating than the drooling dope fiends your grandparents were so worried about.
But for all the lives they’ve destroyed, drugs have given us many positive things, including but not limited to: the Beatles, Jamaica, and most of the 1970’s. But it’s hard to know if the awesome tie-dye is worth the bell bottoms, and whether the musical innovation is really worth what eventually became Techno Rave. I think if we really want to keep kids off drugs, we should just tell them how they can lower your standards to the point where you stay with your parents into your forties or marry Yoko Ono. She has a 5:2 ratio of vowels to consonants in her name. She’s not to be trusted. When a person’s last name is pronounced “Oh, no”, you should stay away, John Lennon, stay away or the Beatles are going to break up, John Lennon. And yes, I know that’s not fair to her, Yoko fans. What was I talking about? Oh, yeah. Drugs are bad.
See also: A dumb thing to ask a Beatle (here) and maybe the most futile PSA ever (here).
Tagged: Beatles, drug dealing, narcotics
Children Attacked By Cretaceous Predator
IRVING, TEXAS – What had for months been a pleasant ritual of after-school education turned to horror yesterday when an unidentified dinosaur attempted to eat a local elementary student.
Michael Wallace was in the middle of a song about how to count to ten in Spanish when the attack occurred. “We had just gotten to ‘cinco’, that means five, when he started chasing Shawn. And it wasn’t to play tag, not at all. He had this look in his eyes.”
The children said that the prehistoric beast had frequently taken part in their activities, but had maintained a positive, even annoyingly positive, attitude until that afternoon. “He taught us how to make rockets out of cardboard tubes. I really thought that meant something,” said Tina Matthews before collapsing into tears.
Her confusion was understandable. “Often, an attacker will attempt to create an emotional bond before attempting an attack,” said a Department Specialist, “Clearly, that was the case here.” The dinosaur had made a point of telling the children that he loved them, they loved him, and that they were a happy family. But the same dinosaur that had taught them so much about basic scientific principles had conveniently never mentioned anything about the Food Chain.
Connie Travers, a single mother of two, admitted that she had knowingly allowed her children to play with the dinosaur. “I don’t know what we expected,” she said. ”I mean, he was a six-foot carnivore. Just because something is bright purple doesn’t mean it won’t kill you.”
It’s a school policy that any minor on the premises be accompanied by an adult, but amazingly, the five children had been meeting for months without a chaperone. Officer Bradley of the 3rd Division noted that he was equally surprised. ”You get a call like this and the last thing you expect to find is a frightened and racially balanced group of kids.
Despite the obvious bite marks, police were unable to find any evidence of an attack. We have it on good information that this large . . . reptile . . . might not even be real”, said Officer Bradley. The surrounding neighbors had been calling in to the school to report strange activity, citing a group of singing adolescents, but there was no mention of a dinosaur. They then went on to describe the singing as “God-awful, but frustratingly catchy.” The Department Specialist notified us that left unattended, small groups of children can begin to exhibit what she described as “group psychosis”. She noted that “In an attempt to discuss complex issues such as family dynamics and loneliness, they will use what’s called a ‘facilitator’, in this case, a purple dinosaur.”
“We did find a plush toy with some blood on it”, reported Lt. Lucas, “We’re going to compare blood and tissue samples and then move on from there.”
This is not the first example of juvenile group psychosis that the Department has encountered in recent months. A recent incident in Baltimore, Maryland had four children hospitalized with LSD-like symptoms after they experienced something they described as a “reading rainbow”. Involvement in such an ordeal can be difficult for any family, but some parents choose to see the positive side of the issue. “It’s educational,” said Brian Grant of Polk County. ”Sometimes it takes a coma-inducing hallucination to get kids to care about learning. My Alex is up to a fifth grade reading level.”
For others, the road to recovery will be longer. In the case of Shawn Larsen, the victim of the dinosaur attack, the experience was educational in and of itself. As he told reporters, “It’s been an ongoing subject of debate whether the T-rex was primarily a predator, or primarily a scavenger. If one tried to eat me, I think that question has been answered.” As for Shawn himself, a dozen stitches and a day or so in the hospital should see him back on his feet.
Tagged: Barney, dinosaur, kid's shows, purple, satire
Long Shifts and Post-Modern Boredom
I spend a large amount of time every day wishing for a zombie uprising.
I think a lot of this has to do with the fact that my job involves moving a lot random stuff from place to place in mostly empty buildings. While walking down hallways, I find myself holding chairs like baseball bats with an overly dramatic look on my face, just in case.
I think there’s a point where any job gets old enough that you start planning an exit strategy in case your place of employment is overrun by the undead. Unfortunately, in my case, this usually only takes about a week or so. I’ve also memorized the location of my school’s croquet mallets and most of the archery equipment. Although if it actually happens, I’m probably in trouble, because the goofy white kid is usually the first to go. Also likely to be killed first is the overly-confident popular guy, but he almost always comes back later and sacrifices himself to save the rest of his friends.
“Charlie, we thought you were dead!”
“Quick, go on without me – there’s not much time.”
“Charlie, no! You’re so confident and popular.”
“Name your children after me. Go!”
So while most employees fantasize about promotions or an amazing dental plan, I’m trying to figure out if a fire extinguisher will kill a zombie, or just stun it. This is probably the same personality trait that causes me to occasionally check for Jedi powers. What is that guy doing over there, wonders the group of girls standing about fifteen feet away from me. Is he trying to move that basketball with his mind? The answer is yes, unfortunately, yes. Also, there is no graceful way to check if you can walk through walls or fly.
For every thirty low-level employees working dead-end jobs, there is a low-level boss trying to convince himself that’s he’s not working a dead-end job because he has the words “Vice”, “Assistant”, or “Head” on his name tag. And maybe one day he’ll get somewhere, maybe one day he’ll have all those words on his name tag, but inevitably, that’s when Head Assistant to the Vice President of Internal Affairs Johnson will be in trouble, because that’s when the zombies will come.
There are several variations on this boss. For instance, the classic overly-enthusiastic-about-nothing boss.
“I’ve got a box of business cards. Guess who gets to count them? You! Lucky.”
The closely related overly-epically-inspirational-about-nothing boss.
“The business cards. They need. Counted. Can I count on you to step up? I know I can. Come on! Good man. Eyes on the finish line.”
Also, the strategically vague boss.
“I need you to finish this quickly so we can make sure we’re not getting ahead of ourselves.”
“I don’t follow.”
“You need to be less dependent on others, more of a team player.”
“I want to die.”
So if you work for one of these bosses, and you’re feeling bored to the point of sarcastically wishing for your life to end, you might return to the subject that I’m so gracefully beating to death, and wonder, “is this the kind of person I want hypothetically leading me when some giant corporation, probably my own, accidentally invents a virus that plunges the majority of the population into a state of living death”. I’m guessing ‘no’, because within minutes of the takeover, this boss will realize that zombies are ideal corporate employees, and try to hire them all to work weekends in the accounting department. If you really want to test it out, you can try hiding the breakroom coffee makers and see how your boss reacts.
I guess that in the end, I don’t really want an evil virus to sweep across the globe, but right now mortal peril sounds way better than boring post-modern angst. Today at work I learned how to spin in a swivel chair without using my legs. And obviously, so far, nothing zombie-related has happened. The closest candidate turned out to be a homeless guy named Rob who was really nice.
At least we don’t have to worry about the poor girl who was named Charlie because her parents were zombie apocalypse survivors.
Tagged: boredom, superpowers, work, zombies