How do you do, fellow humans? Did you have a good Thanksgiving?
I tell you what- let’s pretend that we all did, for a few moments. I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but I have a feeling that the vast majority of you out there have had dental surgery that was more enjoyable than Thanksgiving 2021. The conversation was probably more stimulating, too.
Last night, as I returned to my apartment from the laundry, I heard a great rustle in the trees that formed the property buffer. Instinctively, I looked up to the spot where the leaves shook in the darkness, and saw the responsible party.
A final performance, product, or accomplishment before someone or some-thing stops creating work or products, as due to death, retirement, closure etc. From the ancient belief that swans issue a beautiful song-like sound just before they die.
Where do I even start with Ren & Stimpy? How do I handle the Faustian tale of its fallen creator, John Kricfalusi, without getting overly personal and acrimonious?
Before we begin; I hope for both our sakes that you’re wearing your protective mask while reading this. I can’t actually see you, so I have to implement the “honor system” and presume you’re a “good neighbor” who won’t somehow infect me with mystery germs through the endless tubes of the internet. I know you’re better than that; I can tell by the fancy mask you’re no doubt sporting inside the house you’ve been confined to for the past four months. Even though, as stated, I can’t actually see you.
Mark my words. As soon as it becomes feasible, the father will be erased from the family unit forever. The word and the concept will be abolished and nullified. You can bet your life savings on it happening in the next five years.
A long, long time ago, in a previous century far away, I wrote a song called “Doing Without”.
Inner gatefold collage of Tailothepup’s Yars Revenge
Yes, believe it or leave it, I used to “write lyrics”, although I never had much aptitude for it, and I preferred repetitive chants over sophisticated poetry. Plus, I was the vocalist out of necessity and proprietary right; I don’t have the greatest singing voice, I confess. I can carry a tune about as well as I can carry a Volkswagen bus. Not well, would be my point here.
The number one rule of Spite Club is: You do not have to talk about Spite Club. All you have to do is accomplish or achieve something notable in the public eye. The rest happens naturally.
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