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Easter 2000
Download the word version, perfect for printing and handing out on street corners!
Well, kids, here it is, our Easter issue. You know the usual drill for an issue like this: I make a few warm-up jokes, usually at the expense of someone no-one likes, like midgets or the Irish, then launch into a tirade about the Jesus Bunny and how Easter commemorates his death on the cross for the terrible sin of possessing chocolate with the intent to distribute. However, it’s well past midnight, and I’ll be damned if I’m spending any more time on this issue, so you’re out of luck. Cry me a river.
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American Psycho *****
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Ash
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I don’t know what to do with humanity nowadays. At first, I was just going to let you wither and die out on your own, but after seeing this movie I’ve decided to go ahead and implement my ‘destroy the world with a blitzkrieg of unholy creatures from the abyss’, or Operation Teletubby, as I like to call it. And its not even the movie that bothered me. Hell, I loved it. It was a sharp, satirical look at the materialism of the eighties, a consumerisitic era that worshiped faceless corporate entities with nary a concern for individuality and humanity blah blah blah a chick gets cut in half by a chainsaw. No, what bothered me so much about this movie was the audience reaction. There’s this one scene in the last third of the movie in which an ATM machine asks protagonist Patrick Bateman, played bafflingly enough by Laurie from Little Women, to feed it a cat. So, Bateman picks up a kitten and puts a gun to its head, eliciting a series of shocked gasps from the audience, the very same audience that had sat unperturbed through an axe murder and several dead prostitutes. I don’t know about you, but I’d much rather have a prostitute than a pet cat, mainly because a prostitute won’t pee on you rug, unless you pay her enough. The audience, however, obviously didn’t feel that way. To make matters worse, Bateman decides not to shoot the cat, instead turning the gun on an innocent old lady, shooting her in the head, an action which, as if on cue, received a sigh of relief from the crowd. What can be done with a society that cares more about a overgrown rat than a senior citizen? After all, seniors are living encyclopedias of knowledge and life experiences and should be cherished and revered, plus they make great pets. Let’s face it folks, animals aren’t worth a whole lot, and people are. You can get a new cat at the humane society if yours bites the big one, but it’s markedly more difficult to get, say, a new child at the baby pound, or ‘orphanage’ as I like to call it. All I’m saying is that we need to get a little less worried about animal rights and the environment and crap like that and start caring a little more about each other, more specifically caring about me. I say, if the Jesus Bunny had wanted us to care about animals, he wouldn’t have made them dumb as posts, and if we were supposed to give a rat’s behind about the environment, we wouldn’t all have been born with an inbred hatred of Greenpeace. And who am I to argue with the Giver of Life, the Father of Creation, and the Bringer of Chocolate? Amen to that.
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