Whispers of the Mind

Christmas is comming, and many people are getting back to old holiday traditions. These traditions, however, are out of date. We need some that aren't quite so stupid. Milk and cookies for Santa. Nice, isn't it? But Santa has a globe to span in an awfully short time. The man doesn't want cookies. I'd say we should all put out a big freakin' steak and a mug of ale. Also, stockings over the fire place. You're hanging important gift holding items over an open flame. Unless you want to be out of those gifts, get them out of there. Here's a way to have fun. Let's make kissing under the misiltoe a law. Then hang it all around the house. That's good holiday entertainment. Imagine seeing grandpa kissing that slightly effeminate cousin of yours. Now as far as putting lights on your house goes, if you don't make it into a gigantic performance that lights up ten city blocks, don't bother. I want houses that cover every inch of their homes with lights, huge snowman figurines, cannons that fire on the hour, and lasers that blind you if you get too close. So consider these suggestions when planning your holiday fun. Awkward holidays everyone!

A guy once told me I look like a Satanic cult leader. I asked around, and the main response I got was "Yeah... I can see it now." Seeing as how everyone thinks I'm evil, I decided to play along with it. I formed a cult and decided we would all engage in a mass suicide on New Years' Eve. Things were going well. People were having fun. But as we were watching the ball drop to signify our impending sacrifice, I realized that I had forgotten to get a knife. I remembered that I had recieve a letter opener that looked like a tortured devil with wings for the blade for Christmas, and I quickly rushed to my room to get it. It seemed like an appropriate tool to do myself in with. However, when I got back I noticed that the ball had dropped and everyone was already dead. Seeing as how the mood was pretty much ruined I decided Not to send myself to the great beyond, and give up the cult world. Besides, there's always next year.

A while ago I was reading the list of banned books. That’s the list of the 100 most challengd books in America. In other words parents try to ban these books because they could be a bad influence on our children. Guess what I saw on that list: Where’s Waldo. The book about the funny little nerd in the hat is apparantly inappropriate for children. Am I missing something? Are the other people practicing witchcraft in the background. Are there images of mass murder and satanic symbols? I’ve looked at several of these books and I think I would have noticed those things. So until we see people’s heads being lobbed off while searching for Waldo, let’s let the kids try to find him okay.

Last night I almost died. True story. Lately my throat has been bothering me and I’ve been coughing practically nonstop. I was watching an episode of Family Guy and eating popcorn. I wasn’t drinking anything, and the popcorn wasn’t going down right. Eventually I just swallowed some wrong, and started coughing uncontrollably. I wasn’t actually choking on anything, but I couldn’t find time between coughs to breathe. My face turned red, and tears began streaming down my face. I was running around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do. My dad was downstairs and couldn’t hear me. I tried desperately to cram water down my throat, but I can’t lean my head back without coughing, so it didn’t really work. Finally, as I saw my vision fading, I was able to take a humongous gasp, but I was unable to exhale, so began a long stream of coughing with several painful gasps in between. After what seemed like an eternity I got some water down, and I’m happy to say I didn’t even make it to the long tunnel. I am, however, ticked off. I thought I was supposed to get a flashback of my life, but that didn’t happen. I was counting on it to make my death more enjoyable. Unfortunately my near death was anything but enjoyable. There must be someone I can sue for that.

Yesterday I was watching an episode of The Justice League on Cartoon Network (I was bored and needed time to kill before Whose Line is it Anyway? came on). In this show, Wonder Woman has been given the ability to fly which, you might know, she never had before. In one scene, she, Hawkgirl, and Superman are flying in a jet to a ship under attack by a giant sea creature. The land the plane on the ship, get out, and start flying. Why did they take the jet? If they could all fly, why did they bother. Was it there to store supplies? Maybe they were flying a shipment of pot across the border, and needed the plane to hide it. Who knew the justice league members were drug lords.

         This is the month of Valentines day. Every year, this club at our school puts the name of every single person in school on a heart and decorates the building with them. Yes I know, it doesn't make much sense, but for some reason they're there. Personally, I don't need any more reminders of this holiday. I find Valentines day highly depressing (I discuss this more in depth on my site). Plus the hallways are so filled with these hearts that it's creepy. Whenever I see them I feel like I'm in a scene from Hitchcock's The Birds. I'm just waiting for them to sweep down and attack me.

It has come to my attention that many of you think I am Eric. Either that or I am Eric's imaginary friend of some sort. I am not Eric (Skids). I am in fact a separate person. Got that. My name is [name deleted to protect identity] (repeat that to anyone any I'll hurt you). I also go by Neo McKellan, Luke, Nicolatte, and (of course) Sarcastaman (as I am most well known for). I am a sarcastic teenager (hence the name) who enjoys spreading cynicism wherever I can. Skids started this newsletter several months ago. After the first few issues, he asked me to put my own column based on my website (http://www.oocities.org/sarcastaman) persona. I accepted, and have been doing my opinion column ever since. If you have anything you would like to hear me talk about (and I don't mean deep philosophical issues, or recent events in the world. More like idiotic things you want my opinion on because you don't trust your own.) please go to my site and submit a question. If you don't like the topics I cover, this gives you the chance to change that. At this point I'd wish you all a happy holiday, but I don't want to force hapiness on you, so I'll just shut up now.

I think it's time we bring back the gladitorial age. Only with modern weapons to make it more entertaining. We load a bunch of stupid buff guys with steroids and give them chainsaws, rifles, machetes, maces, swords, grenades and let them have a go at it. If they don't kill each other in a certain time, we can have a special surprise round. We could do things like fill the arena with water, or slowly lower a gigantic spinning blade, or release small amounts of nerve gas. This is a good way to cleanse our gean pool of jock idiots. I think that if your stupid enough to go into a ring with weapons, knowing that you will most likely die horribly, just to prove that your macho then you don't belong here, fouling up our species' already bad reputation. Plus it would be entertaining. Do you realize how many viewers it'd get if it was on the air. Bigger than Survivior and Friends combined.

Tis the season to be jolly. Fa la la la la la la la la. I apologize for the fa la la's. So people should be happy, huh? That's what the song tells us anyway. And anything you hear in a song is right. Remember that. So, if this is truly the season of joy and happiness, why does the suicide rate skyrocket around this time of year. Seems some people didn't pay much attention to the song. These people are lonely. Christmas time, the time for togetherness, just reminds them of how alone they are. We need a Christmas (or Hanukkah, or Kwanza) special that shows these people that life really isn't that bad. Maybe some drifter decides to kill himself, and his guardian angel shows him what life would be like without him, but it turns out that the world is exactly the same. Nothings changed. But the angel says "Yeah. You aren't worth @%#!, but there are worse things than what your going through." Then he shows him people worse than him. They have a good laugh at the unfortunate people. And he realizes that he wants to live so he can feel superior to these poor shmoes. So he doesn't kill himself. Suicidal people will see this special and realize that they want to laugh at their inferiors too. Holiday specials always work like that. At least they do in my mind. Mediocre Holidays!

Today I'm going to do something I hoped I would never have to do: be serious. I apologize. I promise I'll be plenty stupid by the next newsletter. As you all know, a couple of days ago, Saddam Hussein was captured in a bunker somewhere in Iraq. Of course I have my theories that we've never actually seen the real Saddam, and the one we think is him is really another look-alike, or that the look-alikes aren't actually look-alikes at all. Anyway, an oppressive dictator who murdered and tortured millions of people was brought down, and I feel that is a reason to celebrate. I didn't approve to sending troops to Iraq, but if we've managed to strip him of his power than I believe we did some good. I still don't really like George W. Bush (due to his getting us into trillions of dollars of debt {no I'm not exagerating} and desire to drill for oil in Alaska), but he made a tough decision that ended the reign of Saddam Hussein, and for that I say he did some good. He has been raised ever so slightly in my esteem.

Armageddon. I was discussing it with someone in my Drama III class. He mentioned a song by Tool (I think), that was about how they couldn't wait for the world to end. Personally, I hope the world does end in my lifetime. Can you imagine what kind of a show that would be? Tidal waves, meteors crashind, tordanos, lightning, and four flaming skeletons on horses sending balls of fire down to earth. Sounds cool, huh? Of course I don't want it to happen tomorrow. Or the next day for that matter. Preferable when I'm between forty-five and fifty-five years old. That way I'm not an old geezer hooked up to a life support system. Plus I get to live a good deal of my life before the world ends. I'd like to do things like college, marriage, stag parties, mooning someone, blowing something up, becoming the world's fatest (or thinest. Depending on my mood) man before I die. Then when I'm about a half a century old, and I'm growing bored of life, and am waiting around wondering why I'm not dead yet, the apocalypse can happen. I'll pull out the lawnchairs, and the wife and kids can gather round, and watch as our neighbors run screaming whil trying to stop themselves from spontaneously combusting. I also plan on making enemies with my neighbors, so watching them go nuts will seem more entertaining. Then (if the bible is to be trusted) Jesus will appear, he'll drive off Satan's horde, and I'll go to hell because I don't have religion. Of course, if I'm good enough, I may just go to heck, or purgatory perhaps.

In the following two issues, it was almost certain that Skids was moving back to his hometown. The first one is my farewell, and the second is my aplogy for saying goodbye when he didn't leave after all.

No rant today I'm afraid. As is mentioned in the News & Gossip section, Eric is moving away. Don't worry, this decision will not affect your subscription, and the two of us will do our best to keep this newsletter going. I'm proud of our newsletter, and I would hate to see it disappear. We may be separated by 1,000 miles, but that doesn't mean we can't keep this up. I want to take this time to say goodbye to my friend, and I wish him well in Pennsylvania. I hope all you readers will take the time to wish him luck as he leaves the birthplace of our newsletter. He will be missed greatly by the local subscribers here. Especially me. There were many things we said we wanted to do together--some just as a joke, some serious--but it seems those things won't happen. I always knew we would one day have to part ways (although I always hoped we wouldn't). I just wish it wasn't so soon. But I support his decision to move, and I won't try to talk him out of it. We can still be friends in other states. Hopefully I will remember to do my section everyday. If I forget then I'm sorry, but my memory sucks okay. Usually Eric is around to remind me to do my part. As I promised you all before, I refuse to let this affect the newsletter, and we will keep it going. Think of this as us expanding our company into an Arkansas and Pennsylvania branch. I will manage Sarcastaman Inc. and he will take manage Ezosoro Enterprises. Now then, as my section would not be complete with some random piece of dribble, I offer this: Damned be the man who likes Thursday!!!

I want to start by apologizing for my giant "farewell to Eric" speech. It didn't come to me that: 1.We're not sure when he is leaving, 2. We're not sure if he's leaving, and 3. It wasn't very funny. So save it, and if Eric decides to leave then re-read it and pretend I wrote it then, okay. Now on to business. Today I had to write an in-class essay over the Enlightenment (for those of you who are not edumacated, I suggest you look it up because I'm not going to explain it to you). Before I was able to put my first word on paper I heard a blood-curling shriek. I eventually realized it was the class next door watching a movie, but it almost made me soil myself. All I could think about was that this must be some sort of omen towards the quality of my essay. The entire time I was writing I couldn't help but think back to the scream. I just knew it must represent my teacher's reaction to my paper. I found myself going back and correcting everything to make sure it wasn't horrible. As I looked around the room, I noticed that other people were nervous, and I smelled something that suggested that the shriek had a larger effect on some of my classmates bowel movements. Every tick of the clock became the sound of the footsteps of an executioner, comming to run me through a trash compactor, because my essay was so crappy. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't stop shaking. Then I went into a sort of awkward spasm type movement (known to teenagers as dancing), and I almost fainted. I righted myself and managed to complete my essay. So far I have not heard my teacher scream, so there is a chance it doesn't suck (but there is also the chance that she may not have read it yet. But the scream still haunts me as is has been for the past hour, and I know in my heart that it was an omen, or a huge coincidence, or possibly it wasn't a real scream at all, but one invented in my mind as a feeling of the lack of confidence I feel in myself (eat your heart out Freud). Or perhaps the class next door was just watching a movie. Oh wait, it was.

Our school principal recently announced that students who have perfect attendance this semester will be given a reward. He is even offering a cash prize to the student who can come up with the best way to reward them. I have a problem with this. Basically he is rewarding people who have good immune systems, no deaths in their family, no accidents, or no surgery to undergo. So the only way to get this reward is to prevent circumstances beyond my control. Preventing circumstances beyond my control sounds to me like the work of a super hero. I may be a super hero, but not in that sense. I work to stop idiots in their tracks, not make sure my white blood cells aren't slacking off.

Yesterday we picked the winners of our school contest for the best prize for perfect attendance for this semester (there's a mouthful). Those of you who read this column will know my views on rewarding perfect attendance (strangely enough, we're only rewarding it for one semester, and not the entire year). The winners stand thus:
3. Some sort of movie ticket or gift certificate. I'm not sure, but a good suggestion. I'd actually consider it the best as I live for movies.
2. A Pizza party. Still a good suggestion, although I'm not as thrilled with that. I am a bit peeved that they didn't take my suggestion of publically flogging the perfect attendees.
And the number one best reason (I use the term best loosely) for awarding people who don't get sick, or injured, or have family members who get sick or injured, is: An awards assembly with certificates!!! (cricket noises). Yes it sucks. Why did they choose that as number one? It's a cheap way to recognize something. Hardly any money is spent to make these certificates, and the assembly can be held whenever. Recent polls conducted by teachers show that other teachers who think they know what students want, believe that most students would love to get a nice shiny certificate than a free movie ticket. This of couse is, how the french say, a beeg load. So instead of taking friends out to the premire of a FREE movie, perfect attendants now get a piece of paper that they will no doubt throw away or use as toilet paper (it depends on whether of not they have to go to the bathroom). Let's give it up to our principal who clearly knows exactly what students want. Hey you wann give them a real present? Let the winners take turns flogging the guy who came up with the certificate idea.

Dear Sarcastaman,
                          Why do the Irish like clovers so much?

                Dear Reader,
                           The Irish obsession with clovers came from a myth that a giant clover founded their country. It is said that a great four-leafed clover descended from the sky and created what is now Ireland. This is why so many people strive to find four leaf clovers. Unfortunately for the Irish, the only evidence they've been able to obtain is the clovers themselves, and for some reason, scientists (who we have to trust because they are edumacated) don't think that that is good enough evidence for myth to be dubbed true.

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