"I Think, Therefore I Ant."
March 2
Shocking Revelation! Americans are more
knowledgeable about cartoons than history
Can you name this U.S. president?
Time to pretend to act surprised! Americans, it turns out, know more about “The
Simpsons” than they do about the First Amendment.
Yes, only one in four Americans can name more than one of the five freedoms
guaranteed by the First Amendment. (My guess – Sleepy, Grumpy, Dopey, Dancer
and Vixen – am I right?)
But more than half can name at least two members of the cartoon Simpson family,
according to a survey. (My guess -- Ulysses and Dildo Hair – am I right?)
Joe Madeira, director of exhibitions at the museum, says he can’t believe that
some people are actually surprised by the results.
“What do you expect? That people would read books? Ha! Grow up! More people
watch TV as opposed to, well, anything! Especially reading. Especially
Constitutional History reading! Christ, I’d say that unless it has pictures in
it, most Americans avoid books all way round. This isn’t news,” he said.
The
survey found more people could name the three “American Idol” judges (my guess –
Rerun, Slutty, and Nasty – am I right?) than identify three First Amendment
rights.
It also
showed that people misidentified First Amendment rights. About one in five
people thought the right to eat a pet was protected, and 38 percent said they
believed the right against self-incrimination had something to do with manual
masturbation, the survey found.
March 1 (Rabbits!)
And My Point Is…?
I never thought about God until I read the bible. He figures prominently in it,
you see. From what I’ve read, God seems really sexually frustrated. Now I’ve
never been sexually frustrated and I don’t think masturbation causes blindness.
In fact, I don’t see blindness as a disability; after all, the world is so
messy. And really, disability is nothing but ability proceeded by an incorrect
pronunciation of ‘this.’ Ergo a friend is nothing but a fiend without an ‘R.’
…The problem with friends is they’re always pestering you with their personal
problems. Personally, I find most people’s problems stem from a lack of good
fashion sense. Which begs the question, can a well dressed man write a well made
play? Sure, that’s a cliché. But I never knew a cliché that didn’t hold water.
And there’s a lot of water between me and Austria. Now I’ve never been to
Austria but I’m sure it’s similar to Australia. Only smaller. If I ever do get
to Austria, I’ll visit the churches. I’ve always wondered: if a church is a
house of God why don’t they serve the guests cocktails? I don’t know. Like I
said, I never thought about God until I read the bible. He figures prominently
in it, you see.
February 28
Jesus
Cop (A Haiku)
Jesus Christ comes
back
As a cop with attitude
Speeds on the water
February 27
World’s Most Imaginative Boy
Precocious Frankie Murdoch
Can
you imagine a world without crime? Can you imagine a cure for cancer? Can you
imagine that your little sister has been stolen by Gypsies? Well 10-year old
Frankie Murdoch can and much, much more. Young Frankie has just returned from
Baden Baden, Germany where he was honored with "The Most Imaginative Little Boy"
award for an unprecedented second consecutive year.
Talking to Frankie is, to say the least, a little daunting. "I imagined you'd be
taller" quipped the precocious cap-clad dreamer from Orangeville. "I also
thought you'd bring doughnuts".
Frankie claims that his gift of imagination first manifested itself at the
tender age of six. "My parents were always forcing me to eat vegetables and I
hated vegetables. At night I started to imagine that men in assorted vegetable
costumes would come to my house and pistol whip my parents with carrots. Pretty
silly stuff in retrospect, but that's how it all began".
Personal trainer Linus Froth describes Frankie as "a natural, a semi-precocious
spoiled brat with good stamina, a dysfunctional family and an incredibly strong
left hemisphere. Sure he's young but with a little work he'll be ready for the
2008 Olympics".
Whether or not the imagination marathon will become a demonstration competition
in the next Olympics still remains unknown though Frankie, naturally, imagines
it will be. "So count on it" he tells me.
Frankie says his technique is simple, involving conjuring up images of "stuff I
know" and then juxtaposing it with "other stuff I know". When I put him on the
spot to demonstrate he seems annoyed but agrees nonetheless. "Okay, take a dog
right. Now take a bird and presto...a flying dog.". When I counter with "Or a
barking bird" Frankie rolls his eyes, says "don't be a knob" and scarfs a
cookie.
Frankie's parents are reticent to discuss their son's unique gift, fearing that
his imagination may end up getting the boy into trouble. His mother, Delores,
elaborates: "He imagines world peace, responsible government" she rasps between
shots of Jim Beam and heavy drags on an unfiltered cigarette. "Last night he
told me that he imagined Rosie O’Donnell would be making a comeback. For God's
sake, that kind of crazy dreaming is bound to set a boy up for heartache".
Frankie's father is concerned about the pressures of competition and the lengths
to which these children will go to win. "I've never really tried to do anything
and I'd like the same for my boy. I mean these children will do what ever it
takes to get their brains pumped up; steady diets of fish or mind altering
drugs...and nobody is testing them."
Frankie dismisses his parents concerns with a feisty, "I always imagined I was
adopted" and then becomes intensely serious. He tells me that he has never been
tempted by performance enhancing drugs and claims that imagination, if
controlled, can be beneficial. "More people should try it, not necessarily at
the competitive level but as a recreational tool. It's not something to be
ashamed or scared of, honest."
So
what's next for the young thinker? "Well I was contemplating moving on to
pragmatism or optimism but I'm almost eleven now so I think cynicism is the next
logical step". As I bid the lad farewell he tells me he imagines I will end this
article with a profane thought. Sorry Frankie but it’s not going to happen, so
fuck you.
February 26
Bloody Australia
Oh those
Australians! It seems like it was just yesterday The Parliament House in
Canberra ordered its staff to stop calling each other “mate.” And who can
forget when the Australian Food Companion International magazine asked its
readers to find a more palpable name for kangaroo meat. My suggestions of
“Chewy Joes” and “Roo Food” fell on deaf ears. The bastards.
Speaking of swearing, Australia has, in its infinite wisdom, decided that
promoting the famous "Australian foul mouth" is the way to get the tourists
back. Yes folks, Australia has launched a $180-million (£76 million)
international advertising campaign to promote itself as a tourist destination
by asking potential visitors "where the bloody hell are you?"
The
promotional campaign, launched by Tourism Minister Fran Bailey, features an
advert consisting of a succession of typically Australian backdrops. In it,
shrimps are thrown on Barbie dolls, and hackneyed characters make various
inviting statements such as, "We've poured your bloody beer," then later, "We've
got the bloody sharks out of your bloody pool". The ad ends with a bikini-clad
woman asking, "So where the bloody hell are you bloody bastards?"
This use of mild
profanity has provoked controversy. But the slogan has been vigorously defended
by the campaign organizers. Tourism Australia Managing Director, Scott Morrison
says, “Listen you bloody assholes, this is a goddamned bloody uniquely
Australian invitation. And if you don’t bloody like it then you can shove it up
your bloody arse.”
I'm already booking my bloody ticket.
February 25
Team
Canada – Who Cares?
“Like
a dad, he said, who’s let down a child, a nation full of children, turning
pleading eyes to him.”
The Toronto Star (Rosie DiManno) on Wayne (Dad) Gretzky, and, apparently, every
pleading (child like) Canadian citizen
“Oh,
p-uke!”
Avery Ant in response
Um, okay, they lost… On
the bright side, they’re still millionaires.
I know, I know, it’s a reality that hockey is going to overshadow all the other
non-millionaire Canadian athletes who did their country proud but that doesn’t
mean I have to dwell on Mr. Gretzky and co. I see no need to ponder such
existential questions like, “Why Todd Bertuzzi?” “Where was Sidney Crosby?”
and “Is the anagram FOG (friends of Gretzky) clever or not?”
I will say this much, Todd Bertuzzi had a big opportunity to redeem himself and
come home a hero; his past goonish exploits forgotten. Boy, did he screw that
up, huh?
It’s hard to believe it's
been almost two years since I did my first rant ever on the subject of White
Guys, President Bush, Dung Beetles, Enron, Fatwa, and Todd Bertuzzi… I’ve come a long
way, baby!
http://www.averyant.com/video_minorities.html
Anyway, on to more important issues…
The James Bond
Saga Part 2
(Getting “Moore” Tired By The Second)
It took an old Bond to come to the rescue of the new Bond – sort of…
Roger Moore, who played
Agent 007 in seven of the James Bond movies, said that critics of the film
franchise's new star, Daniel Craig, should give him a chance: Or better yet,
they should shut the hell up. Or even better – demand that he brought back to
play the role of 007.
"Look, the fact is I’m
still sexy! And I’ve still got the hot and tasty moves. Here watch me dance.
Look at me, look at me. Now watch my bottom. Look at it shake. Here, let me
loosen my trousers and show some skin!” Moore said.
As mentioned previously in this journal, a group of James Bond seniors’ fans have (with the help
of their reluctant and eye rolling grandchildren) launched a website to condemn
the upcoming Bond movie, Casino Royale.
The blond Craig, whose
feelings are apparently “really hurt” according to a spokesperson is now
considering passing on the role of Bond but is apparently willing to take on the
part of Miss Moneypenny. “He looks much better in drag than he does as a man,”
said the spokesperson.
Moore, who seemed to really be getting into the idea of once again taking on the
Bond role suggested the group was merely “a bunch of dried up and senile old
prunes who don’t know what they are talking about. Unless, of course, they
change their minds and decide I should be the next Bond. Then they are wise and
venerable seniors who must be heard.”
Moore also dismissed
suggestions that Bond is obsolete in a post-Cold War, post-9-11 world
where real terrorists like Osama bin Laden and al-Qaeda have trivialized such Bondian super-villains and organizations as Goldfinger, Blofeld and SMERSH.
"There’s still plenty of
sex," counters Moore. "And sex sells. I think some more tits and ass would only
help. I’m also willing to do nude scenes. Here take a look at ‘Little Roger,’”
he said while unzipping his pants to the horrified onlookers.
This Week's 10 Fun Search Terms for
Avery Ant
The following are this week’s favorite 10 search queries
people used to get to www.averyant.com
(really!)
satanwave
banks suck
greasy pig studio
the male ego
king hillbilly
salesman farmer daughter jokes
ziggy freud
it's funny until someone loses an eye
crazy ranting insect
jokes about muslim fundamentalists
Last Christmas is so 2005...
Only 299
Shopping Days Left Until Xmas!
(to the top)
To read all the other mildly exciting editions of
"Avery's Daily Journal" visit
"Avery's Journal Archives"
|
