Tag Archives: satire

Just Like Seein’ Bigfoot

You know how whenever anyone sees Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster or Ogopogo, they’re so freaked out that they can’t snap a decent picture of what’s obviously, definitely, not horseshit and is instead really right in front of them? So what you get is something that looks like a large, blurry man in a Bigfoot suit:

Bigfoot Classic

Or a snorkeler with a Monster-Shaped Sock Puppet:

Loch Ness Monster

Or I guess sometimes yes, they do get a decent picture of Ogopogo. Watch out, kids!


Well that’s how I feel when I see a Women For Romney bumper sticker. Let me tell you something – they are OUT there. You just have to keep your eyes open. My friend Spang and I call each other when we see them – ohmygod, ohmygod, OHMYGOD! TOM! I SAW ONE!

Then we get cosmos. Other than that, we’re pretty manly.

But not the bumper sticker. I’ve never been able to get a clear picture of one, but here’s an artist’s rendition straight from my own personal Google Image files:

Women For Romney

See? It’s pink – that means chicks dig it. And some of the letters are all fancy, like a girl wrote it on her notebook, a girl who doesn’t just “like” Romney, but who “‘like’ likes” him. Sometimes they don’t even get bumper stickers, they just spray paint their whole Romney-ending name all over their car, as if they’ve already married him and his First Wife. Stephanie Meredith Romney! In a big heart, you know.

But anyway, today I saw this cryptozoological wonder cross my path:


Holy shit! Christians For Obama!

At first, I didn’t even comprehend it. Why would Christians ever vote for a guy who is not only a Muslim, but also a Satanist AND an Atheist? FROM KENYA?

I don’t know, but this guy not only did it, but he’s permanently bragging about it on his car! Who’s driving it, Mothman??

I’ll tell you, it was a spiritual experience, like looking the Abominable Snowman right in the eye across a card table, thinking, “He’s got the jack. He doesn’t have the jack. HE’S GOT THE JACK!”

Surely you can relate. Anyway, someone needs to fly me to Loch Ness or to Bigfoot Town (Canada? Seattle? I don’t know where Bigfoot lives) cause do you see how I calmly stopped texting while I was driving, and snapped a picture of the Sasquatchmobile? I’m like motherscratching Steve McQueen, baby.

Cool, now I have to go run this by some network execs, make some scratch. Don’t show anybody, blogosphere, because it’s not worth any money that way.

Bigfoot SuitNow, I know a lot of you are like, Tom, that could just be a Jesus Fish Eating A Darwin Fish bumper sticker wearing a Christians For Obama bumper sticker suit. Like when those knuckleheads said they had Bigfoot in a freezer and instantly, pre-Tom-On-Facebook, someone came to my desk to show me their Facebook page and asked me what I thought of it.

I said, “Well, shit, I’d say that’s either Bigfoot in a freezer, or it’s a Bigfoot Suit in a freezer. And since we already know there are Bigfoot suits, and since we don’t know if there’s Bigfoot, etc., etc. etc.”

Well – we’ll just have to let Science decide, and Science can tell History, and someone from Television can give me a check, is how I think this works. I’m going to get a new suit and a steak dinner, you guys stay here in case my studio check shows up.


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Star Trek And The Conservation Of Dialogue Principle

thank you for smokingThere was a movie called Thank You For Smoking, and it had Robe Lowe in it as a Hollywood movie executive, and Aaron Eckhart as a lobbyist for the tobacco industry. In one scene, Eckhart’s character is trying to work a deal with Lowe’s character to get cigarettes placed more prominently and positively in upcoming blockbusters, and Lowe describes a scene he has in mind.

It’s set in space, and the idea is that two superhot A-List actors like say Johnny Depp and Scarlett Johansson have sex in a room with zero gravity, and it’s all sexy and graphic, and then they’re floating there afterward smoking cigarettes, and the smoke is spiraling around them and that’s exactly what Eckhart’s talking about.

“But,” he asks. “Wouldn’t the whole thing blow up, lighting up in an oxygen rich environment like that?”

“Well, yeah,” says the movie producer. “But that’s just like, one line of dialogue. ‘I’m so glad we got the whatever installed so we can smoke in space.'”

Very matter-of-fact, because it’s often that simple, and as far as watching the new Star Trek movie goes, don’t go complaining that they didn’t add the extra lines of dialogue for you. They’re already talking plenty. Some things just aren’t going to make sense, and they’re going to spare us the token explanations as to why.

Like you might be wondering why the Enterprise, which can teleport a grown Vulcan male out of the center of the volcano, can’t remotely operate whatever device he’s got down there with him. I think they may have even muttered something about how they can’t be seen by the natives – but you know, they’re usually teleporting from orbit, where the natives wouldn’t see them.

Well, the crust is rich in radioactive isotopes, and they’re screwing with the sensor array, and the device Spock has is too sensitive – the interference could reverse the polarity and then it wouldn’t work. Only way to do it is by hand.

Star Trek 1Or something like that. On the television show, they get pretty bogged down explaining stuff all the time, acting like this is science and not silliness with science stickers on it. I think the new Star Trek movie makes a pretty good decision realizing that it doesn’t need to explain everything.

Like why they could stun Khan briefly on the Bridge, but Uhura unloaded on him about eight times and he supershrugged it off, even with one Metric Vulcan Asskicking in him. That’s how the action needed to flow, don’t make them explain that. Maybe he took a bite out of a tribble before he left, who knows?

We could quibble about how they were beaming folks out of midair in the last one, and this time they can’t get a lock during the final fight scene because “they’re moving around too much!”

It was already awkward enough when Bones is suddenly had a dead tribble next to him and sort of stretched and said, “Yep. Better inject some of Khan’s weird ass blood into this dead tribble while you guys proceed with your action movie. See what happens.”

Everybody even sort of turns to look at him. Sure, Bones. You do that. Right here, why the hell not?

And of course a little dialogue tap dance regarding the need for an extraneous bra-and-panty shot for Dr. Marcus. Because she’s hot, and her agent said so, that’s why.

The problem always comes in when there’s no line of dialogue that could save them from the problem – like when Iron Man doesn’t have any extra suits. That’s dumb, Iron Man. You’re not dumb. Last time you had an extra suit in your car. Keep extra suits somewhere, you big ding dong.

A fine line I’m drawing there, I guess. Star Trek silliness is cool and you shouldn’t ask questions, Iron Man silliness is questionable but still cool, just not as cool as Star Trek. Also, did you notice that Star Trek wouldn’t even have happened if everyone would have just listened to Scotty with regards to seventy-ish torpedos which no one can see inside, and with regards to taking said torpedos on board?

ScottyHe basically had the whole movie beat if everyone had just said, “Hey, Scotty’s right, like he usually is about engineering and missiles. We usually do all right without mystery torpedos, anyway – right?”

All right, well, that’s my advice, and I’ve thought it through carefully for well over twenty-six minutes, so I can’t imagine there is anything inconsistent or hypocritical about it. I was going to bag on the Pope for a little bit, but I was too tired, and he really does seem nice. I guess just being a Pope freaks me out, that’s all.

Cool, now I’m going to use the gravitational pull of the Sun as a sling shot and go land on my couch. You have a nice evening, blogosphere.


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The Tommy C Workout

WorkoutThe first thing we need to do is put on our running shorts, that way there’s no question that we’re going to work out. I wear the stretchy kind, but they have a sort of outer, non-stretchy layer so you don’t look so silly and leggy, and I like to put my socks on from last night, since they’re going to be filthy pretty soon anyway.

But the last thing we want to do is go off all half-cocked, run straight out the door like a Nike commercial. As a general rule, if you are working out for an hour, it should take you about three.

Like we have to have coffee, and coffee makes you pee and dehydrates you so first we drink a quart of water, then three cups of coffee while we Facebook in our running shorts. What we’re doing here is limbering up – go ahead and wiggle your toes a little, that counts as stretching.

After about three cups of coffee, it’s starting to feel like time to get out the door. Here’s a Pro Tip – make sure you check very thoroughly as to whether or not you have to go Number Two. If you have to go Number Two while you are running, you’re either going to stop running, or you’re going to go Number Two. I guess the good news is, wherever you are, you’re very likely to run home at that point so if you’re just starting out..

No, that’s gross. Now let’s eat an egg. No bread, no toast, no taters – just an egg. You can go ahead and cook it, we’re not Rocky Balboa. Sometimes if it’s the middle of the day by the time I get around to it, I eat a couple handfuls of peanuts instead. Something about the protein, I don’t know, that’s what works. Maybe a banana. No whiskey, even if it’s after noon.

Cool, now we stretch a little bit, then it’s out the door. Just push that procrastinating voice off to the side, tell it, Screw You, Voice, We’re Going Running Right Now And –

Oh my God – look at this bunny!

Bunny on Walk

I think it’s some kind of cute little Mama Bunny! It’s got a little mouthful of grass, so it must be building a nest someplace! Look how close the cute little bunny is letting me get to it!

All right, I agree, let’s head back in and get some carrots and chop them up for the bunny, and we’d better name the bunny. How about Abraham? Sure, that sounds good. Here are some carrots, Abraham. Sorry about your Dude’s Name, if you’re really a mama.

And no, that’s not my Creeper Van there, good question. Now, let’s get in the car and drive to the park.

The whole way, we’ll grumble about running, because we hate to run. You know what the problem is? It’s all the women on Facebook freaking out about the way women are oversexualized and how unrealistic the body types are in ads, and then ten minutes later they post a picture of shirtless Johnny Depp or a hunky fireman or something, with the caption “YUM YUM.”

You know, little boys feel insecure about their body types just like little girls and forty year-old bloggers. Just sayin’.

Anywho, the trick is to grab two handfuls of your beer belly and remind yourself that you aren’t supposed to be able to do that. Don’t crash your car though, wait until you are at the park to remind yourself about your belly.

Cool, now we have to be very strategic about where we park the car, because I don’t like to run past the car at all once I’ve started. It doesn’t matter if I’ve gone three miles or three hundred feet, if I run past my car at any point, a voice in my head will say, “Hey, look, it’s the car! Let’s get back in that car, Tom. We can drive away and eat cake somewhere and apologize to our belly for trying to kill it.”

A lot of doctors will tell you to ignore voices in your head, especially if they are talking to you directly. Psshhhhh. Doctors.

So we run over a little bridge to another track, run around that one a few times, and never go back over the bridge until it’s really time to get in the car. At some point, we’ll encounter what’s known as The Wall.

The Wall is like a barricade in your mind which tells your body that you can’t run anymore. Most athletes will tell you that the key to distance running is to train yourself to Run Through The Wall.

Kool AidBut that’s dumb. Don’t run through The Wall. You’re not the Kool Aid Man. When you hit The Wall, you stop. That voice in your head is your brain, and it’s a lot smarter than your legs. It knows what it’s talking about.

Now, go home and do push ups for exactly one episode of John Stewart. Look in the mirror and suck your gut up into your chest cavity. Give yourself a thumbs up and a big smile.

Cool. Now just do that every other day, unless it rains or it’s too hot, too cold, you’re too busy, you don’t feel like it, or Greeno’s in town. You’ll be in Tommy C Shape in no time!



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Blinding You With Science Class

french modelLet’s be very careful here. At first glance, this horrifying story brought to us by an alert but anonymous reader, looks like a trap.

As we know, sometimes the French model you met on the Internet is not a French model, and often snippets shared on Facebook can backfire on you. We all snap it up as evidence that someone (Sarah Palin, President Obama, the NRA, the Catholic Church) has said or done something unbelievably stupid, and then it turns out that the snippet is false, and now we’re the ones who look stupid for sharing it.

Like the other day I saw someone post a three year-old image of the Obamas saluting the flag with the wrong hand over their hearts. Further evidence that Obama hates America, was born in Kenya, wants to take your guns, and eats babies, yes?

No. All you have to do is google a couple of key phrases and you end up on, where the photo was debunked years ago. Apparently a similar photo was done of Tom Daschle back in 2003, but with less effort – his wedding ring was on the wrong hand, his buttons on his coat were on the wrong side – and so it was easy to see that it was simply a mirror image of a real photo.

The Obama image was also doctored, but far more carefully. They moved the ring, moved the buttons, and were in general very, very careful in putting together their destructive, anti-American lie which they then distributed around as evidence that the Obamas were destructive anti-Americans.

But they missed a few things – medals on a soldier’s coat in the background, the part in Michelle’s hair – and it became very easy to see that the image was mirrored and then photoshopped from a real picture of the Obamas with the correct hands over their hearts.

At a ceremony observing 9/11. That’s the level of reverence the photo-fixers have for America, dudes. They took a photo from a 9/11 ceremony, made a lie out of it, and then tons of Republicans snapped it up and made their hilarious Republican noises while they humped its leg.

Anyway, not too hard to get the truth out of it. Like taking toast from a hamster, one might say. So on that note, let’s be careful about this image, yes?

Science Quiz

Already I’m suspicious. I would expect a 4th grade science quiz to say the teacher’s name, or the chapter number, or practically anything except “4th Grade Science Quiz.” So my first impression of this was, “Probably not.”

Well, let’s see what Snopes has to say. Here’s their article on it, which has it still up in the air. They had the same obvious problems with it, but then they were contacted by someone who said he was the father of the student who took the test. This guy even provided the hilarious second page – which I got from google, not from Snopes, because Snopes sort of yells at us there about not taking their stuff. Calm down, Snopes, it’s not your quiz either, right?

Scienc Quiz page two

The questions and answers are face-palmers, that is for sure. The parent declined to reveal the school until the end of the year, for fear that the student would get suspended, or hollered at, or possibly burned at the stake as a witch, and I don’t blame him. But again, we’re suspicious, aren’t we? The mystery source of the mystery test from the mystery school.

Sure, but, I don’t think that we’re worried about this particular student; her dad already said he corrected the error – or ball of errors. I think that if you’re alarmed by this photo, you’re alarmed that it represents a real trend playing itself out in some rural schools like a live action Simpsons bit. Whether or not this particular test is real barely matters. What matters is, do people teach this at all?

In particular, that last question – What do you say when people claim the Earth is billions of years old? The accepted answer is “Were you there?”

Notice that the kid got a 100% but she forgot the question mark. Back in my day, we rode buses to school as opposed to dinosaurs, and we lost a little credit if we forgot punctuation marks. Still, one has to wonder – does anyone really think that’s a reasonable reply to someone claiming the Earth is billions of years old?

Yes. Ken Ham, for example – president and CEO (which cracks me up) of Answers In Genesis – US. That’s all he does is go around reminding people to ask scientists if they were there billions of years ago to verify the Earth’s age. And if you weren’t there, then I guess you’ll have to take Ken Ham’s word for it that it’s only a few thousand years old, even though you also weren’t there thousands of years ago, and neither was Ken Ham.

I love how Mister Ham gets defensive right off the bat on his website. The first Frequently Asked Question is Can Creationists Be Real Scientists? Mister Ham’s reply:

“Many secular and atheist groups mock Answers in Genesis and the Creation Museum for not being scientific. However, some of the most influential scientists past and present have been and are creationists (see below).”

Comes right out and says he’s used to getting mocked, which is nice, and not just because it’s good to hear that folks are appropriately mocking him.

mad scientistIt’s also nice because there is only one type of scientist known for saying things like “They mocked me, thought I was mad, but I showed them, I showed them all!”

Well, that’s just mad scientists, right? Who else opens with that?

To be fair, he does show us a list of people who have degrees, and I think a list of people on your website is as good as peer review, isn’t it?

No, it’s really not. And also, you don’t find a lot of respected, peer-reviewed scientists headlining their work “Am I really a scientist? Or am I a hilarious nut case? Here’s a list of folks I know who will vouch for me.”

“Were you there?”

That’s the new Inherit the Wind moment? That’s your modern, philosophical stance?

SCIENCEWe don’t know because we weren’t there? Hell, we barely even know if there was a Holocaust by that version of the scientific method. Shit, you guys know there was a Holocaust, right? I’m not even going to google Mister Ham and The Holocaust, although if you’re starting a band, that’s what you should name it.

As for the specific test, I’m going to make a prediction, and we should find out more in June, when the Mystery Source reveals the Mystery School. I think the quiz is real, and that Mister Ham or someone like him has a general curriculum book out there with general tests and quizzes for anyone who wants to teach Christian Science, Ham-Style, and I think that’s why it’s so general – 4th Grad Science Quiz.

Do I think it’s a big deal? Not to me, I haven’t been writing checks to the Mystery School. But I’ll bet it’s a big deal to the Mystery Source. We’ll just have to wait and see.




Earlier: Kirk Cameron and the Art of Asshattery


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Lurking Around In Zanesville

All right, listen I’m sorry I hollered at you yesterday. Sometimes I get into the whiskey and it makes me a little froggy in my bloggy. Here’s an ice cream cone.

Look – we’re going to Zanesville!

Road To Zanesville

Yep, seven o’clock in the morning, and we’re on the open road, headed for the Muskingum County Courthouse, home of the dude who set his own personal collection of zoo animals free into the wilderness a few years back, then killed himself, and cops had to chase his zoo animals all over the county. Obviously, that’s not how they word it on the sign coming into Zanesville, but if I run into the guy who orders the signs, I’ll run it up the old flag pole.

Zanesville is best described as lumpy, like they built the town on a giant, horribly messed-up bed. It’s old, too, and looks sleepy. A lot of lawyers, oddly.

Do you think this sign is at all confusing?

Shoppers Only

I am pretty sure they can’t write me a ticket for failure to shop. This seems pretty unenforceable. So I think the sign is saying, don’t drive into Zanesville and park your car and then just expect to lurk around, doing nothing at all. Because that seems like an obviously cool, fun thing to do, and I’ll bet people are always trying that.

Well, fortunately, I’m a guy who likes to lurk. Let’s go on inside and lurk around the Courthouse. The way I see it, if you’re going to hang around someplace, Security should know about you. You got to keep them on their toes.

I always try to walk into a Courthouse like I’m there to put the SYSTEM ON TRIAL. Make some noise with my heels – click, click, click.

Holy Christmas! Look at this!

Cake Auction

That’s today! There’s a cake auction today!

That thing on the wall of the elevator is talking about real cake. We could go bid on a cake – that’s all I’m saying. Jeez.

All right, third floor, this is weird. We come out into a plain hub office that’s full of stacked boxes. People are working in an area ahead of us, but we’ll follow the arrow for the Engineer’s office and there’s this hallway. Very quiet, completely empty, and with an Exit Sign clearly marked ahead.


A little blurry, I know. I am as you are aware, pretty easily freaked out. Because look – there are little white signs on every other door in the hallway. Guess what they say.

Not An Exit

Every door. Every door that isn’t an exit has one of these signs, clarifying that it is not, in fact, an exit.

So again, when people start putting up signs, there’s been a problem, like folks are always yanking random doors open around here. Hey, is this how I get outside? NO!

And these people have put signs up on everything. Look, here’s a fire extinguisher:

Fire Extinguisher

See? In case you didn’t know what it is. And that door next to it is not an exit, so don’t screw around with it.

Damn, fellas.

Fine – we’ll just go down to the map room at the end of the hall, but it turns out. We’re early. We need to kill twenty minutes, and I can’t think of a better way to do it than lurking. People think that lurking is just standing still but no, you can lurk in motion, you just do it slowly and dart your eyes around. Some people coming, voices from the workplace.

Let’s duck into the elevator and wait – there’s a door next to the elevator and it doesn’t say one way or the other whether or not it’s an exit. We’ll have to yank that open and:

Closet (2)

Some kind of utility closet. I swear I’m going to stand here for a few seconds thinking about how entertaining it would be to get in the closet and start shouting, pretending to have gotten trapped in it. They should put up a sign!

No, let’s get out of here, people don’t like it when you’re poking around government buildings for no reason. We’ll go lurk out front and maybe there’s a cart where you can get a hot dog with an egg on it or something. Aw dammit.


Where the hell are we? I’m not going back in the elevator, screw that but here are some stairs, a whole bunch of them. Two office ladies coming down, talking about someone named Mike. Sounds like Mike freaks them out a little bit. On up and here we are on a balcony overlooking the main atrium:


A little blurry, but we can see there’s some stuff down there to look at. Let’s go on down, take a look, try and be calm when we’re snapping pictures from now on. It’s just a blog, Tom, relax. Do your breathing.

Hmm, here’s a table with some stuff on it in front of the Seal of Ohio, and is it religious stuff? Yes! It is, which is fine with me. It looks like the ACLU has already been by and made them take down their Buddy Jesus statue or whatever, and so instead there’s a table and it happens to have a religious book open on it. I don’t think that’s a Bible.


Oh, I see, it’s The Bible In One Year. Huh. Okay, and the desk calendar also has religious stuff scrawled all over it; I can tell it’s religious because of all the colons. Personally, I don’t care if you want to put religious stuff in courthouses, mostly because I’m lazy and indifferent. But I know the ACLU loves going around picking on small town courthouses in the middle of recessions. Aw well – sometimes you get the bear, sometimes the bear gets you.

I guess the idea is, when the ACLU comes by they’re like, hmm, I don’t know who left that there, go ahead and take that away. And then they have a whole box of books and calendars in the back, that’s what they do at parties, scrawl on calendars.

Okay, getting creeped out, let’s head over here and check out this bell in this glass case.

Old Bell

That piece of paper hanging on it looks like it was typed decades ago, and it explains that the bell was the original town bell, and that it donged when someone died and when there was an emergency and when the Civil War started. The paper explains that the bell was brought here by boat from somewhere and then carted up through town and that it’s a very, very special old bell.

So they keep it in a glass box tucked away behind this shiny, new, prettier bell in a beam of light at the center of the Courthouse.

New Bell

It’s a replica of some other bell. Man, you guys sure love that old bell, don’t you?

All right, starting to get the old Eyeball from folks. Let’s get up to the map room, hand a guy a piece of paper that we are not allowed to FedEx, and then seriously, get back in the car and drive back to Columbus. We’ll just blog about that.


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Swarming The EPA, Katy Perry-Style

Pretty soon, I’ll have to put alert Facebook friend Amy Barnes on staff, as this is the second post in a few days gleaned from her Facebook page, though if she were on staff I’d be very upset with her for not taking a picture of the girls in sexy bee suits she saw on the train this morning. Apparently, her concern was that the girls might not be over eighteen, and the bee suits were revealing, but listen – it’s a school day. There aren’t any kids skipping school to go and protest the EPA. If nobody was getting arrested, then document, damn it. DOCUMENT!

Apparently what they are protesting is a certain chemical which the EPA isn’t taking very seriously which is decimating bee populations. Einstein said that if the bees ever die off, humanity would be dead in four years, and I know he was wrong about some stuff, but he seemed like a pretty smart dude. Maybe we should listen to him.

And if not, we should seriously consider listening to the swarm of sexy bees. I tried to google image that to come up with my own photos of sexy bee girls swarming the EPA, but all I got was this thing, kind of summing up what was going on and not being at all clear about whether or not the bee suits should be sexy (Yes).

Swam the EPA

There was some debate on Amy’s thread about this topic as to whether or not the sexy bee suits were appropriate. Some folks found the sexiness of the bee suits to be distracting from the overall message – “They’re just a bunch of wannabes,” said Allison C. (I’ll do that Alcoholic Anonymous-style, since I don’t know Ms. Carver very well).

Whoops! Sorry, Allison, but as you know, there is no way to edit a blog.

Bumblebee ManAnyway it seems to me, here in America, if you want someone to listen to pretty much anything, it’s not a bad idea to dial up the sexy a little. The whole purpose is raising awareness, and by and large we don’t care about non-sexy, non-gun, non-cheeseburger things around here very much. So I say if you’re putting on a bee suit, and you’re not my daughter, then yes – put on a skimpy one. I did find several thousand of them by googling sexy bee suits, but oddly all of them are women. Can’t men rock a sexy bee suit? What’s wrong with you, google?

Which reminds me, I was thinking hey dudes out there – maybe head down there in a flower suit, see if any of them land on you, but scientifically that’s backwards and also profoundly disturbing and inappropriate and demeaning to women, etc. etc. etc.

Didn’t Amy tell you these ladies were no older than your average Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Model? We shouldn’t be egging them on, we should be grabbing them by the antennae and dragging them back to their mom’s house. (Don’t do that if you’re a dude, you’ll almost certainly be misunderstood and arrested.)

Similarly, Menzie Chase Campbell pointed out that it’s not a particularly courageous stand, is it? I mean, who the hell is anti-bee?

Well, that’s a good question, but I guess first we should ask ourselves, why don’t people already care about this? Why don’t we just go down there and drink whiskey, bust the place up old school? Why is the Sexy Bee Girl Swarm even necessary?

You might be asking, “Who cares, Tom? Don’t question the Sexy Bee Girl Swarm, embrace it.” And sure, fellas, I gotcha. But since Einstein already told us we need the bees, and since the news has been telling us (though probably not in a sexy enough way) about this for years, why aren’t we already there in normal clothes, blasting down the doors of the EPA and kicking the shit out of a bunch of crooked, lobbyist-owned, tools of The Man?

I mean, I used to be anti-bee, I guess, when I found out that their stings could kill me. I have to carry a little shot around with me and stab myself in the leg if any real bees get a hold of me. If anyone has the right to be anti-bee, it’s me, right?

Well, me and bees reached an understanding, despite our differences. Sure, they can kill me, and sure, I like to run over their house with my lawnmower, and yes, once I found out they could kill me, I dumped gasoline all over their house and set fire to it. Sure. But that’s just because I’m a Skynyrd fan, don’t take it the wrong way.

Everybody can changeNo, not really. But me and bees and Rocky Balboa and Ivan Drago all learned to respect each other despite our intense desires to kill each other, and if I can change, and bees can change, and Rocky and Ivan can change, well everybody can change.

So in summary, I think we owe the Definitely Over Eighteen Girls In Bee Suits On Amy’s Train not only an apology, but a debt of gratitude. They’re out there fighting for bees, and not in the dull, hipster, Occupy Wall Street kind of way, with their beards and their eyebrows and their clothing.

They’re doing it Katy Perry-style – last Friday night they did too many shots, danced on table tops, put some bee suits on, occupied the EPA.

God bless them, that’s what I say. What did YOU do for bees today? Eh? EH?!

Also, did you notice how many opportunities I had up there to replace the word “be” with “bee?” But no, I kept it legit, every single time. You’re welcome.


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Can Captain Kirk Save Us From Accidental Racism?

Well why not? Saving us all from things is what Captain Kirk does – even us back here in the past, like whatever was going on in that episode with Teri Garr in it and Agent Gary Seven, and that freaky lady who could turn into a cat.

And he has taken on racism in the past too. Do you remember a world where hot white people and hot black people were not allowed to make out on our televisions? If not, you can go ahead and thank Captain Kirk for that. He didn’t care if you were white, or black, or blue, or a space cavegirl, Captain Kirk was as Down With The Swirl as one can possibly be.

Star TrekRemember when they found that planet where the people were all exactly one half white and one half black, and those who were white on one half were crazy racists toward those who were white on the other half? See, it wasn’t just making out with chicks – Captain Kirk could roll up his sleeves and help folks understand each other and get along as a society. Hide your chicks, though, seriously.

The only reason I was thinking about Captain Kirk was that my youngest daughter has an iPhone now, and so when I’m driving or even just sitting around on my can, I talk to her like I’m Captain Kirk. Hey, text your sister the following message, or locate the nearest bowling alley, or call my lawyer very quickly and tell him to engage the Alpha Protocol. She’s so pleased to do something with the most fabulous object in the universe that she does it quickly and without question, whatever it is.

And then once I had Captain Kirk on the brain, I realized he might be able to save us from the horrifying attempt at racial harmony created by Brad Paisley and Recent Mental Patient L. L. Cool J, both of whom seemed to me before this point like reasonable men, so maybe they’ve simply surrounded themselves with poor advisors. Entourages of folks who don’t know how to say to them at any of sixteen or twenty obvious points, “Hold on, this is some awful, crazy, offensive, dumbass bullshit here, we have to stop. We have to stop for God and Country and Humanity Itself. This is wrong, we can’t do this.”

Brad PaisleyNo one stopped them. I heard about the song for days before I finally, reluctantly sat down to listen to it, and I don’t even really want to talk about it. Paisley doesn’t seem to know the meaning not only of the word “racist” but even of the word “accidental.” And L.L. Cool J, well – let’s just say he seems to have mistaken himself for the Black Ambassador To Country Music, and not only is he mistaken about his title, he is clearly underqualified as a negotiator.

I would think for instance that one could expect not to be judged based on one’s fashion accessories from the get-go. No need to concede the centuries-of-enslavement-and-oppression angle. If we think racism is over, then surely Judging One By One’s Doo Rag Or Any Type Of Headware Really, had to be part of the deal. And if we don’t think it’s over, then find another way to express your deep and admirable love for Lynyrd Skynyrd.

But, who cares. You know, I really think they both meant well, and so it’s a nice gesture. It’s not like satire. At least they didn’t hire a different county music star who was white and put him in blackface and have him do a silly dance as he forgave the South for racism in exchange for being allowed to wear his favorite hat.

I mean, let’s fill out the whole scorecard, right? No blackface or silly dances? We’ll count that for ten points, like some sort of Attendance Award. Good try, fellas, let’s talk about something else.

Of course, wherever each of us was on our inner battles against racism, we now have a new problem, having heard the awful song, having cringed while listening to it like we’re at the meeting in Jaws where the shark hunter gets everyone’s attention, having listened to it several times hoping we heard it wrong, hoping to find some trace of an ironic joke. Now we have a new problem – how to get the song out of our heads.

And I have the answer for you – it’s Captain James Tiberius Kirk.


See, this isn’t the first duet Brad Paisley threw together. He also contributed to Bill Shatner’s album Has Been, singing a duet with Captain Kirk Himself about what it’s like to be Captain Kirk.

Get over there and listen to it, because it’s exactly like getting the inside of your skull power-washed clean of any trace of “The Accidental Racist.” You’ll be instead sitting on your back porch with an icy cold beer, looking into the sunset and reflecting deeply on how much Captain Kirk has really done for you in your life, and you’ll suddenly realize, damn – it’s been a lot.

The first hero I ever had, the square-jawed ideal every man should aspire to be, the bareknuckled savior of us all dozens of times over. The only Starfleet cadet to ever defeat the Kobayashi Maru.

Khan’s Bane. KHAN’S BANE, DAMN IT!

Kirk Vs GornTake your hat off and think back to lying on the floor of your living room, watching Kirk with a ripped shirt shoot a homemade cannon at the Gorn. Remember that you learned about courage from this man, just as much as anyone real. Then thank whatever God you pray to that Bill Shatner was ever born, and thank Bill Shatner, for retroactively redeeming Brad Paisley – who in all honesty doesn’t sound too bright, and seems to have simply made a hilarious, gargantuan philosophical mistake, and then found a wacky partner who made the exact same comical error. Think of them as Richard Pryor and Gene Wilder, if that helps.

Then go listen to the whole Shatner album. Henry Rollins from Black Flag is on there! Ben Folds!  Joe Jackson! And Actual Spoken Word Poetry By Shatner Himself!

See? Now you forgot all about that other thing, cause you’re an Accidental Trekkie now. Feels good, doesn’t it?


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