JN: As you can see, we're at little more than a spattering of prickly dots of hair. A quarter to six shadow, if you will. Though Reginald is clearly making his presence known, he is a long way from his former glory. The occasional itch is less an annoyance, and more a hint of things to come in the next week or two. Though once you're out of the woods on the old face itch, it's smooth sailing. Also, I've begun to see zits in places I haven't seen them in months! And not dinky little whatever zits, big mammoth finger-fuck my life zits. It's not that they weren't there before, just that they were buried under three months worth of beautiful bearded greatness. And if I can't see them, they really don't exist. One was so monstrously grotesque that I went so far as to put a bandage over it. So, I was that guy with a bandaid on his face for a couple days, but it paid off. Forty-eight hours later that fucker was history. Suck it, zit biatch! As should be perfectly expected, the stress and aggravation have driven me to drink. More than usual. So, while the wagon train is moving, we're still a long way from the promise land of chin whisker utopia. But I am confident. About the future, about myself, but mostly about Reginald. From the desk of Jeff Newman:
Heh. From the desk. Cool.
Let me just say that this car drives like a video game that was designed by a 6-foot vibrating vagina. Getting to the Dells and back on one tank of gas was mighty impressive, but that doesn't make up for the myriad of obnoxious safety features dripping from every orifice of this not-too-distant-future, 4-wheeled pain in the ass of a machine. Tell me when this starts to sound excessive:
*The car won't shift gears unless you hold the brake.
*The car won't start unless you hold the brake.
*The car dings when the door's open (engine on or not).
*The car dings the whole time you're in reverse (even if you're motionless).
*The car dings after you've locked and closed the doors.
*The car dings if you unbuckle the seat-belt.
--- as an added bonus, the dinging gets faster the longer the seat-belt is unbuckled making one think a bomb is about to explode. (or is that just me?)
Do you see what I'm saying? Actually, once you get used to the whole set-up, it's a nice car to drive. Especially on the highway, but I could never own one unless I stripped out most of those god-damn dinging nightmares. Airbags are one thing, but we've gotten to a point with this safety bullshit where we're trying to preserve the lives of people who are too stupid to be driving in the first place, which brings me to Wisconsin. Or more specifically, driving through Wisconsin.
Ah, Wisconsin. Where men are raised to grunt instead of speak. Wisconsin. A land of people whose love of cheese and ice fishing is only exceeded by their love of the left lane. So much in fact that they never seem to leave the left lane. Not when traffic is piling up behind them, not when they're being passed on the right, not even if Clay Matthews T-bones their car while riding a giant moose onto the interstate. Wisconsin. A frozen cheesy wasteland where people bitch about Chicago drivers, or Flat-Landers speeding on the highway because they don't know what it feels like to have somewhere important to be. They live in Wisconsin. If they're not heading to their buddy's place to watch the Packers, they're heading to the bar to watch the Packers. This of course does not apply to friends of mine in Chicago who are from Wisconsin. The fact that you moved to an actual city shows that you are clearly of above average intelligence. Or at least above average Wisconsin intelligence.As is probably obvious by this point, I don't like Wisconsin. After 24-hours in Cheesehead Central, I was about ready to hit the old dusty trail. I hopped in the Prius, pushed the button that started the car, (seriously, you wouldn't even have to try to steal this thing) cranked up the shitty stereo, and high-tailed it back to Sweet Home Chicago. Where things make sense. I'll take a pansy bitch of a quarterback, fired head coach, and the CTA any day of the week. -JN
From the desk of Reginald Buford Brimley:
Let me just begin by stating how delighted I am for this opportunity to share my thoughts and views this year with all our current and future readers. Let me also state that I don't think much of this heading, to be perfectly frank. I'm a beard. I don't have a desk.
Most of my exposure to human news and society comes to me (as it does for all Beards) through observations of my host human's interactions with other people and forms of media. Internet, television, films, books, magazines, and the like. My host human, Mr. Newman was particularly engrossed this week in a story involving a recent film about slavery, murder, and revenge titled, Django Unchained. Most of the attention has been focused on an interview with an actor in the film named Samuel L. Jackson. I should take this moment to mention that Samuel L. Jackson is a very respected human in the Beard community. The best ambassadors who've made the greatest strides for Beard and human unity throughout the years have always been artists, athletes, bikers, and musicians. And of course the homeless. Actors fit almost all these criteria at one time or another in their careers, and Samuel L. Jackson is one of the most wise, fearless, and skilled human actors working today. During this interview, after being asked about the use of a mysterious N-word in the film, he demanded the interviewer speak this mysterious N-word aloud. The interviewer did not want to do this. For those of you who haven't seen this interview, here is a link. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j3b2dH6n3Qg Jump to 13:55 if you're impatient. The video is quite entertaining and informative in its entirety.After some simple research, I found that the word they were referring to and wouldn't speak aloud was, nigger. This is a pejorative term in the human culture for a person of African descent, but it is commonly used for any person of any descent who for any reason has a dark pigmentation to their skin. The person using the term doesn't even have to be of a light complexion (or white) as the term is used very often by members of what is commonly known as the black community. Sometimes as a pejorative. Sometimes as a term of endearment. The controversy surrounding the film doesn't seem to have to do with the use of this word exactly since the film is set in 1850s Texas, but that the film's writer and director is himself a white man. This whole controversy is of course purely ludicrous for reasons that don't merit going into right now, although I'm being told that someone named Spike Lee has just now called Mr. Newman to protest the use of the word nigger in this blog post. Apparently, kike would have been permissible. Nigger is not.
This brings us to the meat of my intrigue. Human culture in every facet of the globe has always met conflict squabbling over petty differences. None more than color. It has been well documented throughout Beard history that humans for all of their amazing discoveries, innovation, intelligence, determination, and spirit each possess the ability to go as they say, bat-shit nuts if another human has the wrong color skin. There seem to be an ever-changing list of rules which apply to certain colors, and not to others. This has been true for as long as people have had the intellect to make rules, and as long as they've been asinine enough to make social morays. Beard culture has always found this pattern to be as perplexing as it is fascinating. If not also a bit sad. In the Beard world, we have many wonderful and celebrated colors. There is black, brown, blonde, red, grey, white, and for some reason every March a lot of green. All these colors as well as everything in between affectionately referred to as mulatto Beards. Beards have always been united as a single race. The highest, most prized virtues in Beard society are fullness, thickness, productivity, and freedom. These traits can easily be expressed through any Beard of any color. This is a cornerstone principle of our society. There has only ever been one Beard Civil Rights Movement. This of course is the movement to free all Beards from the clutches of human oppression. The shaving, trimming, cutting, and other forms of Beard manipulation which have become a common, often daily practice for almost half the human population is the only struggle we've ever known. This has always united us as a single race. Perhaps humans should take a lesson from their mighty Beard brethren. If people combined their efforts to lift each other up and achieve common goals instead of finding ways to disenfranchise rights and forcibly impose the will of the few upon the many, there's no telling what they could accomplish. It would be a refreshing change. Perhaps they are long passed the day they should have abolished all other distinctions of race and simply united as the human race.
Unfortunately, it is my firm belief that this will not happen until there is some common external enemy so devastating that the planet's people would have no choice but to unite as a necessity for war. What a cheerful thought. Of course, I'm not the first to come to this conclusion. The brilliant and prolific human graphic novelist Alan Moore surmised as much in his masterpiece Watchmen. Alan Moore (whose beard is so beautifully grizzly that it defies all reason) saw mankind with a very clear eye. By nature they are more selfish than enlightened. More frightened than curious. I believe they can change. I see new reasons to hope every day, but they still have not attained the understanding, compassion, and patience of the mighty Beard. Until they do, Samuel L. Jackson will continue to make skinny white people uncomfortable. -RBB 
No comments:
Post a Comment