This is Cloud Astro, Astrologer to the stars, and we have just entered the field of SAGGY, The Horses Ass, so watch where you step. Hey, Saggy, you don’t have to be the butt of everyone’s jokes and act spooked because you feel fenced in. How many people can say that by day, they’re out standing in their field and at night, they go home to a clean, stable environment? So giddyup, gluebait! And if some jockeys that are too short ride up on you -- buck ‘em! You can still make a name for yourself, even if that name is "LOSER." After all, if you fall far enough behind, it’ll look like you’re leading the next race!! Other Saggyasses are the Inventor of Cellulite, Francis the Mute Mule, and the Three Horsemen of the Apocalypse. This is Dr. Cloud Astro reminding you to blame it on the stars! (You may be hearing more from Dr. Astro on the PYST Website.)
Recently I received a cyberslice of hot spam from a lost cause addressed thusly: "Apparently-To: <email@example.com>".
Not exactly a "special" delivery, is it? Whatever happened to the dignity of "Resident"? Or even Occupant"? I know we’ve all been reduced to disembodied egos out here in inner space, but couldn’t the cyberhypsters come up with a better way to address potential customers? To me, "Apparently-To" makes us sound like criminals in a relocation program or even worse, implies that metaphysically we don’t really exist at all!
Well, we’re not alone in our outrage, because in the Sunday 11/17 edition of the LALA Times, a featured front page column focused on the plight of morally displaced persons out searching for the shelter of a new spiritual structure. They call themselves "seekers."
But unlike the Firesign Theatre’s merry band led by "Gary" in the classic "Everything You Know Is Wrong," who moved into Art Wholeflaffer’s Blue Mouse Nudist Trailer Park on their pilgrimage to "Happy" Harry Cox -- these "seekers" are out test-driving religions.
A woman named Kimberlyn (yes!) Headley (oooh!) says: "I think people have just lost contact. . .They seem very disconnected."
So, some things never change, I guess.
Back around 1700 B.C. (Before Connection) a Sumerian called Abraham made a very special covenant with monotheism through the god Yahweh, and earned the right to resettle in the Promised Land of Canaan, now Palestine, on the other bank of the Euphrates River
Thus, he became known as a "Hebrew" -- the ancient word for "the other side." Yin/Yang? Christians/Jews? See how it’s all connected?
And speaking of working backwards, does anyone listen to that Yahoo Art Bell, god of late night radio? Well, last Sunday he featured David John Oates, a stuttering Australian relocated as a therapist down-under in San Diego, in a gnitaniscaf discussion of his book "The World of Reverse Speech."
After an ad for Dr. Michael Toblinsky’s Super Prostrate Formula For Enlarged Prostate, Art, the buffalo, talked to DJD over a phone patch as he played excerpts from famous speeches forwards and sdrawkcab on his computer to reveal apparently hidden words which uncover what a person is truly thinking. (Was David Lynch sharing these secrets of the subconscious in those dwarfish dream sequences in "Skaep Niwt?")
The show was peppered with examples like JFK’s "Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country," a section of which was played backwards to say: "Give Jack all your food."
And then Susan Smith, the duplicitous child murderer, from an interview: "I constantly am praying each day that they are taken care of and given the necessities they need to survive." In reverse she says, "Made the big gamble up."
And from President "Mr. Bill, Oh-no!" Clinton, when asked if he’s open to influence answered: "Well, I try to articulate my positions as clearly as possible." Which becomes "She’s a fun girl to kiss."
Is it real? Or is it Memorex? Sounds like a case for Regnad Kcin!
Also from the Times, (which I think I’ll just start to refer to as "The Source") from an article by Jenifer Warren, comes news of another bad head cult. This one is called The Fellowship of Friends, located in Oregon House, California in the foothills of the Sierras, Yuba (Yahoo) County.
57-year-old guru and former butcher’s son, Robert Earl Burton, who speaks with 44 angels, including Lincoln, Plato and J.C., immerses his 2,000 or so followers in the finer things of life on the route to higher consciousness. Along the way, however, there have been a few breakdowns and a lot of crying on the soft shoulder.
Now that several ex-members like Troy Buzbee are claiming that their leader seduced them, details of Burton’s bizarre strictures are being revealed. For example, in his brainwashing bulletin, "Renaissance Vine", the following commandments appeared: "The exercise of not expressing wit . . . has been resumed," glasses were to be replaced by contact lenses as "it makes the face a more beautiful impression," and periodically, Burtan banned the use of commonplace terms like: I, really, oh and hi.
"It was strange," explained an ex-seeker, "Instead of saying, ‘I’ll have a cup of coffee,’ you’d say, ‘It wants a cup of coffee’ or just ‘Cup of coffee.’"
What’s even stranger, is if you play "Cup of coffee" backwards it becomes "Glass of beer!"
And for those of you wondering if my talented Other Side, Melinda Peterson walked away with the coveted Theatre L.A. statuette at the grand presentation at the Shubert on Monday -- the answer is "No;" which backwards is "Shit!" Best Supporting Performance honors went to Jane Kazmeric, for her work in "Kindertransport" at the Tiffany -- a role, ironically, which Melinda was asked to cover! We actually expected this outcome, since Jane’s play was about the holocaust (with a ‘caust of millions!); and Melinda’s only covered child rape, incest and patricide.
(From the Big Issue by way of the twisted mind of Penn "Pal" Jillette:)
It’s been a week of bizarre fashion statements on the world’s railways. In Finland, train guards have been ordered not to wear white socks following a spate of complaints from passengers. In Bulgaria, meanwhile, a ticket inspector has been sacked for dressing like a spaceman.
Mikel Hemmer, 31, of Pordim, assumed his stretch of rarely-used country railway. "I would pretend I was on a space mission," he explained. "I had a special oxygen pack and would walk slowly through the carriages as though I was in zero-gravity."
All went well until a delegation of high-ranking military officials chose his train as the venue for a top-secret defense meeting. "We were discussing chemical weapons," explained one witness, "when a spaceman walked in and asked for our tickets. We thought it was an assassin and all hell broke loose."
Mr. Hemmer was dismissed from his post and now works as a farm hand. "I still wear my suit," he confided. "It stops me from getting manure on my shoes."
Dog Crossbreeds, from Marv "I eat cats" Wolfman:
Pekinese X Lhasa Apso = Peekasso, an abstract dog
Great Pyrenees X Dachshund = Pyradachs, a puzzling breed
Pekinese X Dachshund = Peking Dach, owned by Chinese restaurateurs
Kerry Blue Terrier X Bloodhound = Blueblood, a favorite with society
Poodle X Great Pyrenees = Poopyree, a dog that smells good
Pointer X Setter = Pointsetter, a traditional Christmas pet
Irish Water Spaniel X English Springer Spaniel = Irish Springer, a dog as fresh and clean as a whistle
Kerry Blue Terrier X Skye Terrier = Blue Skye, a dog for optimists
Smooth Fox Terrier X Chow Chow = Smooch, a dog who loves to kiss
Airedale X Spaniel = Airiel, a dog that brings in good TV reception
Labrador Retriever X Curly Coated Retriever = Lab Coat Retriever, the choice of research scientists
Newfoundland X Basset Hound = Newfound Asset Hound, a dog for financial advisors
Terrier X Bulldog = Terribull, a dog that always makes mistakes
Keeshond X Setter = Keester, you can’t get this dog off its duff
Bloodhound X Labrador = Blabador, a dog that barks a lot
Chihuahua X Whippet = Chiapet, order from TV ads, 3 for $19.95
Boxer X German Shorthair = Boxer Shorts, a dog never seen in public
Basenji X Schipperke = Baserke, a dog that’s mad about its owner
Malamute X Pointer = Moot Point, owned by . . . oh, well, it doesn’t matter anyway
Collie X Malamute = Commute, a dog that lives on the freeway
Deerhound X Terrier = Derriere, a dog that’s true to the end
The following, originally in the dreaded space-consuming, Letterman-inspired LIST format, was sent to me from the aforementioned Mr. Millerick as "Bumper Stickers." Well, maybe. Here they come anyway, so back off!
I love animals, they taste great. -- EARTH FIRST! We’ll stripmine the other planets later. -- "Very funny, Scotty. Now beam down my clothes." -- Friends help you move. Real friends help you move bodies. -- I’m as confused as a baby in a topless bar. -- "Criminal Lawyer" is a redundancy. -- Make it idiot proof and someone will make a better idiot. -- He who laughs last thinks slowest. -- Give me ambiguity or give me something else. -- A flashlight is a case for holding dead batteries. -- Lottery: A tax on people who are bad at math. -- All generalizations are false, including this one. -- Hard work has a future payoff. Laziness pays off now. -- I won’t rise to the occasion, but I’ll slide over to it. -- Consciousness: that annoying time between naps. -- I don’t suffer from insanity. I enjoy every minute of it. -- Where there’s a will, I want to be in it. -- Okay, who put a "stop payment" on my reality check? -- Few women admit their age. Few men act theirs. -- We have enough youth, how about a fountain of SMART?
And these are REAL bumperstickers (at least in the mind of the Firesign Theatre):
I Brake For Balloons. -- Honk If You Hate Horns. -- My Kid Passed The Metal Detector at South Central High -- Are You Co-Dependant? I Can Help! -- I’m A Mother Trucker, I Don’t Brake For Anything.
From quasi-realist Steve Bortko and Kerry "GutterDance" Millerick
Q: How many surrealists does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
A: Two. One to hold the giraffe and the other to fill the bathtub with brightly colored machine tools.
Today’s interplanetary quote is a mnemonic for the order of the planets from the sun outwards -- Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune and Pluto.
"Do men ever visit Boston?" We’ll find out next week...
© 1996/2002 by Phil Proctor