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From the comments:
(the) Trevor as Obama's eyes says: We see to it that anything on msnbc is properly "reported". Thanks for showing folks where to look, minion-dawg, we will see to it that you receive an extra portion of wealth redistribution whenst we are in charge for your dedication to not thinking for yourself.
I don't know if I've mentioned it lately, but my brain is a genius! Because on Friday, it realized — WHILE DRUNK —that somebody should adapt Douglas Adams' Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency as a vehicle for Ricky Gervais. This is just the latest in a long, unbroken chain of genius-grade ideas my brain has generated, starting from the time in second grade when I, from my perspective, invented masturbation, to the time I improved bulleted lists of items forever by replacing the bullets with Truck Nutz. My brain is obviously Whiting Foundation Genius Grant material.
After my brain's obvious triumph of imaginary cast-directing, everything that was golden and bright about my weekend turned into factory-wrapped shit, because my favorite writer committed suicide on Saturday night. I have no idea how many times since the 1996 publication of Infinite Jest that I've said, "Y'know, David Foster Wallace is about due for another novel," followed by, "I'll just read this new book of essays by David Foster Wallace while I wait for him to produce a novel." Probably, like, one million times. Prissy scold Michiko Kakutani, who was constitutionally incapable of ever writing about Wallace without bitching that his books were too long, can't even get through this fast-track obituary item without unloading references to Wallace's "self-indulgent books badly in need of editing..." Nice display of editorial restraint, lady. The man was hugely gifted, and you're dancing on his grave. Here's a little secret to winning a Pulitzer for reviewing books in the New York Times: Claim that any given book is either the crowning achievement of an author's entire career, or a complete abysmal failure. Because somehow, those are the only kinds of books she reads, ever.
After the jump, how about this economy? And also some reports about the pharmaceutical side-effects of drinking tap water that would scare you if you weren't so blissed-out on all the Ritalin and tranquilizers in the drinking water. Click here or here:
The Fabulous Furry Lehman Brothers: Bloomberg.com says we're in the midst of the worst economy since the Joad family had to shoot Lenny for petting Curley's wife too hard, causing the stock market crash of 1929 and plunging America into the Great Depression. The 185-year-old Lehman Brothers Holdings financial company filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy today, causing economic pundits to launch into a series of annoyingly cliched analogies involving plate tectonics. Is that really the most terrifying imaginable vehicle for the tenor of your metaphors? What about biomechanical xenomorphs erupting from your sternum, or Ebola? Plate tectonics. Maybe if they'd try to come up with more interesting imagery during boom economic cycles, they wouldn't have to fake it when the economy explodes and burns up all their subprime mortgage holdings. Here's a picture of the Lehman Brothers with the fancy car they blew all their Treasury security and private equity dough on:
So, thanks a lot, Lehman Brothers. Fancy little fuckers. You guys won't look so hot rolling down the street cranking "Low Rider" from the cheesy factory-installed speakers in your used Ford Focus now that all of your assetts are being liquidated. Thanks to the tightening credit market, I actually got turned down this morning at the King of Kash over some bullshit about some returned checks taped to their cash register. "DAMN YOU, LEHMAN BROTHERS!!!" I shouted, since I'd been counting on some fast, no-hassle cash to buy a breakfast burrito at McDonald's. I have no training in business or economics journalism, or journalism, so that's all I've got, here. The tectonic plates of my financial acumen are shaking under the pressure of making fun of the terrifying global economic collapse.
If you have questions about drinking tap water, or think drinking tap water may be right for you, consult your doctor: So, thanks to the efforts of GlaxoSmithKline and Bristol Myers Squibb, everyone is feeling unexpectedly tranquil about Great Depression II, because water departments across the country have detected trace amounts of pharmaceuticals in their water supplies. Shit, it's the only possible explanation for John McCain's sunny comments about the economy just this morning:
According to the AP, unmetabolized pharmaceuticals are flushed into sewage system through human excretion and it's not possible for water treatment facilities to filter them out. It's a vicious cycle: The more tainted water you drink, the more you have to pee tainted urine into the water supply. If anybody in Kansas City has noticed that they're getting a lot more muscley, and maybe also feeling unexplained inhibition of their serotonin reuptake, it's probably all the equine growth hormones and Paxil I've been peeing. When you take as many horse steroids and drink as much Gatorade as I do, you're going to spend a lot of time in the bathroom, just generally. MOVE ALONG, that's all I've got this morning; now I'm going to go reread A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again.
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