happy done-that year
It's hard for me to get excited over the prospect of another year ending, and another beginning. Perhaps it is because of the same-old fireworks, or the same-old ball dropping, or the countless year-in-review specials. Perhaps it is because of the amount of people giving resolutions, or setting firm goals to their dreams, or otherwise acting as if they will be a new person. Or, perhaps, as the title suggests, it is because it's been done already.
How much more exciting can a new year get? Is it not as commercialized as buying new socks? There are year-end sales, and "crazy, crazy" deals... but it's all been done before. People should get tired of blowing their little horns, and cranking their little crankers, and getting drunk. But they don't. People seem to treat New Year's as some sort of giant worldwide party that they can reminisce about when they have sobered up the next day.
PERSON #1: Man, that was a great new year's party, huh?
Repetitiveness can be a good thing. You can repeat phrases from your favorite book because they inspire you. You can draw the same thing hundreds of times, trying to get the exact perfection you want. You can help the homeless. But repetitiveness can also be bad when it signifies nothing. What do you accomplish by setting false goals, or getting drunk, or watching fireworks? Each of those things already have their own times during the year (birthday, friday nights, and july 4th respectively)... they don't increase in value by doing them all at once.
I don't know what to suggest, or even if my point has been adequately explained. I only know that year after year, the "new" means less and less. Sure, we have turned a calendar year, but we have become no different, nor has the world around us. We feel content to leave it at that: an incremental digit meaning nothing besides a chance to take off from a day of work, and get wasted in any number of ways.
So, Happy Done-That Year, Devil Shat readers. May your resolutions fade quickly from your mind, the alcohol from your bloodstream, and the dying light of fireworks from your eyes. It's going to be another boring year.
kill a tree for christ
by Alex Boomer
If Jesus saves
Dying on the inside and glittering on the outside, dead trees in the home inspire Christians to rampant consumerism and excessive drinking. The seasonal orgy of stress, greed, and unrealistic expectations shattered is inspired by the death of a hundred million infant trees each year.
In the Early centuries of the first millennium, a wave of proselytes swept over Europe and Asia. Like some sort of Holy Roman Empire version of Jehovah's Witnesses; banging on doors and yurt flaps, scheming to subvert Pagan celebrations into Christian Holidays. "You, too, can convert to Christianity and still enjoy having a dead tree in your house for a few weeks every year," they preached.
Traditionally, trees were brought into pagan homes just before the winter solstice for the purpose of absorbing evil spirits. At the end of the "Yuletide" the trees would be taken outside and burned, destroying the evil spirits. In modern times these trees, bearing their load of Evil spirits, are scattered across vacant lots, dumped over the neighbors fence, tossed out down by the river and otherwise abandoned where no one is looking. The result is that evil spirits are scattered around and left to ooze out all over the neighborhood. This surely explains the increase in DUI arrests, suicidal tendencies, memory loss and domestic violence on New Year's Eve. The new practice of having public mulchings of expired trees may or may not solve this problem. It is unclear what becomes of an evil spirit which is run through a chipper-shredder.
Experts speculate that the scarcity of trees in North Africa is a primary reason that there are few Christians there. Perhaps the spread of Christianity could be facilitated by exporting Christmas tree farmers and department stores instead of missionaries.
by Tom Giddings
the revolution will not be televised. there will not be goofy-but-lovable dads, spunky-but-lovable kids, ditzy-but-lovable moms, or curmudgeonly-but-lovable grandparents. there will be no bad jokes, and there will certainly not be a laugh track. the revolution will not be televised.
the revolution will not be televised. no score will be kept. there will be no instant replays. there will be no referees. the playing field will not be clearly marked, and neither will the teams. the winners will not bring home a trophy. the revolution will not be televised.
the revolution will not be televised. the wheel will not be spun for cash and prizes. no-one will ask to see what's behind door number three. the answer will not be given in the for of a $64,000 question. Don Pardo will not tell the runners-up what they've won. there will be no exciting new home game. the revolution will not be televised.
the revolution will not be televised. there will be no commercial breaks. it will not be sold by heavy-breasted-yet-anorexic super models espousing family values. there will be no cooing babies held by screaming salesmen clad in plaid polyester suits. there will be no celebrity endorsements of late-night 1-900-JACKOFF lines staffed by the Swedish bikini team. it will not come in packs of six or in cases of twelve or twenty-four. it will not slice, it will not dice, it will not make thousands of julienne fries. the revolution will not be televised.
the revolution will not be televised. there will be no sound bites, no creative camera angles, no snide comments from animated redneck prepubescents. there will be no lip-synck contests. there will be no mention of Generation X, rave culture, grunge fashion, "Totally 80's", or Marsha Brady. John Lennon, Sid Vicious, Jimi Hendrix and Kurt Cobain will not be deified. the revolution will not be televised.
the revolution will not be televised. there will be no callers and we will take no questions from the audience. our guests will not be closet teenage gay pregnant overweight bulimic gang member junky interracial anarchist S & M necrobestialpedophiles who disobey their parents and the poodles who love them but had affairs with their sisters husband. and again, there will be no mention of Generation X. the revolution will not be televised.
this has been a public service announcement from Face Enterprises. if this had been a real emergency, you would have heard a lot of screaming from outside your house, accompanied by the sounds of gunfire and the National Guard shelling the low-rent district and artist's quarter of your city, followed by an announcement from the government that the situation is under control and martial law has been instated, along with a seven o' clock curfew. c1994, all rights reserved. any resemblance to persons living or dead without purposes of satire is purely intentional. do not wash in cold or hot water. this end up. walk, do not run, to your nearest gun store. remember Kent State. the revolution starts here. the revolution starts now. the revolution will not be televised.
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what the hell does killing trees have to do with Jesus? Jesus is pure good. Everyone is a critic. You can't criticize someone who is perfect until you are perfect.
Honestly, Morbus, this used to be an interesting mag. Now, sorry, but I think it comes across as the typical, spoiled, raised in the suburbs, go to the convenience store/mall, hang out whining of brats who have never had a really bad time in their lives. BORRRRRRINGGGGG!
And it makes me think of an article in Reader's Digest (you must like their articles, since you recently reprinted one). About a woman who, on hearing of the Bosinian orphans, did not bug people for money or whine to her neighbors about how horrible she thought it was. She got on a plane with the blessing of her husband and kids and actually WENT there for a year or so and took care of the children.
Get on a plane. Stop whining. Do something.
Too vanila, the christmas tree thing had great potential, i always wondered how the increase of crime came just after christmas, i guess it came from all of those evil spirits seeping out of those discarded trees, thanks for the enlightenment, and i thought it was all about good vs evil, i guess im pretty slow huh???
revolution was a little slow, but i guess christmas is a slow season anyway and you got to do what you got to do. Happy New Year, Dave