News You Can (ab)Use: Obama Texting Gaffe Catches Candidate With Pants Down

Dateline: Washington, DC
      Barack Obama's campaign team is in full-blown damage control mode, after their candidate's planned e-text announcement of his choice for running mate for the upcoming Presidential election went embarrassingly awry earlier today.
      Obama had promised that supporters who had registered on his web site to receive campaign announcements via text message would be the very first to get the news of his choice of running mate. Unfortunately, Mr. Obama apparently became confused by the complexity of menu choices on his phone, and instead forwarded a racy picture of himself to millions of confused, but titillated supporters.
      The picture, showing a reclining Obama wearing nothing but a smile and a strategically-placed hand-lettered sign reading "Who's your Commander-in-Chief?" was never meant to be used in public promotions, according to Obama's campaign manager David Plouffe.
      "As you can see on the time signature of the photo," said Plouffe at a hastily arranged news conference, "the photo was taken on the Obamas' anniversary and was intended solely for the...use...of Senator and Mrs. Obama. We're encouraging everyone who received the photo via text to just please, please delete it and...uhmmm...try to forget the haunting image of the Senator's toned and glistening physique that has forever been seared into your mind's eye." Mr. Plouffe then looked around in a dazed manner, wiped his forehead, and excused himself from the press conference. Mr. Plouffe's deputy then stepped up to the microphone and said, "Um, yeah. It's Joe Biden, by the way."
      The McCain campaign was swift to react. Said McCain, "Here's yet another example of Sen. Obama trying to appear presidential by associating himself in the minds of voters with the title of Commander-in-Chief and illicit sex. Despite my years of experience, I have far too much respect for the office of President to co-opt it in such a way. No, when Cindy and I play 'Prisoner of War,' my rank is never higher than Captain, and that's how it will be until I'm elected."
      Obama himself has yet to comment on the faux pas, and in fact has not been seen since entering a closed room with a stony-faced Mrs. Obama. Speculation among political experts is divided as to whether the couple are hashing out a strategy to deal with the crisis or whether Sen. Obama is simply in Dutch with the wife.

News You Can (ab)Use: Bigfoot Hunters Capture Last Living Credulous Reporter

      Bigfoot hunters Matthew Whitton and Rick Dyer, whose recent revelation of an alleged Bigfoot body has been widely discredited in the press, hastily called another press conference in Georgia today to announce the capture of what they believe to be the last remaining reporter who still believes their story.
      "It took us several sleepless nights of pretty much non-stop Googling," explained Whitton of the hunt for the credulous creature, who until now was believed to be only a legend, "but we finally managed to track him to a remote location in northern Georgia called 'Starbucks.'" The pair then wheeled out their find, a forty-ish white male, skittish and blinking in the bright lights, firmly duct-taped to the hand truck on which he was being transported.
      "He's shy," warned Dyer. "We call him...Dennis."
      The gullible reporter turned out to be one Dennis Sacco, a writer for the tiny weekly "The Backwoods Bugler," and a lifelong Bigfoot enthusiast. Every year during hunting season, "The Bugler" runs one of Sacco's Bigfoot stories--this year's piece was entitled, "Bigfoot or Brown Bear? Know Your Scat!". Whitton explained that these stories, combined with clues found on Sacco's coffee-lover's blog, "What a Drip!" led them as surely as scat would to the remote Starbucks. They approached Sacco from downwind as he sipped a tall no-fat triple latté and was distracted by the free wi-fi, and took him down with a tranquilizer dart.
      "We actually had to put a second one in him," amended Dyer, "I think cause of all the caffeine in his blood."
      The pair then demonstrated Sacco's belief in their Bigfoot story by asking him a series of questions about the find, all of which Sacco answered nervously with some variation of "Whatever you say, guys," or "Sure, sure, anyone can see that." The press conference finally drew to an awkward close when Sacco reported that he could no longer feel his toes beneath the duct tape, and pointed out that there were in fact no reporters other than himself in attendance. Faced with the fact that Sacco was exactly what they had claimed he was, Whitton and Dyer reluctantly agreed to release "Dennis" back into the wild.
--story filed by Dennis Sacco, "The Backwoods Bugler"

News You Can (ab)Use: Bored Kansas Town Opens Time Capsule Early, Discovers Rich History of Boredom

Dateline: Wunnlite, KS
      For lack of anything better to do on Friday night, bored residents of Wunnlite, Kansas (pop. 2,562) decided to open the town's time capsule three years early, only to discover that the town has a long and rich history of being just unbelievably boring.
      The capsule was buried during the town's excruciatingly dull Centennial celebrations in 1961 and meant to be opened in 2011 during the planned "Sesquipalooza," which based on past experience, is certain to be a complete snoozefest.
      Mayor Tom Morton explained how the almost-interesting capsule-opening came about. "Well me and Dave [Sheriff Dave Smith] and the Judge [Justice of the Peace Darrell Jansen] were just sittin' in our usual chairs down at the Gas 'n' Sip, bored to tears, when I got the idea. At first the Judge thought we'd better check with the Sesquipalooza committee, but then Dave pointed out that other than his wife and Betsy Tanninger, we were the committee. So we got Ryan Snodgrass to fire up his plumbing company's backhoe and dug that puppy up."
      The excavation proved to be the last moderately exciting event in what would prove to be yet another mind-numbingly dull Wunnlite Friday night, as the group's average-to-moderately high spirits were soon crushed under the weight of decades of soul-sucking blandness.
      Their first clue to the town's historic mundanity came with item number one from the capsule, a 50's-era Monopoly game with a note attached: "When the malt shop closes, The Wunnlite residents of 1961 love to go home and play a brisk game of Monopoly with the whole family!" The amateur archaeologists exchanged knowing glances and shook their heads.
      Smith said, "I suppose it might have been kind of interesting if Monopoly had changed at all in the last fifty years, but...Monopoly's Monopoly, y'know?"
      "Although it was kind of interesting how even though it was old, it didn't have the funny player pieces like the lady's boot or the jalopy or anything. Just plain wooden pegs," said Morton.
      "Yeah, we all commented on that," added Smith.
      Next out of the capsule was an old iron with a message from 1961 Wunnlite resident Molly Arnold: "Before 1961 we used these to tidy our clothes, but with all the nifty new wash-and-wear and polyester fashions for women, I won't be needing this old thing anymore! What kind of space-age fabrics do the Wunnliters of 2011 wear on your trips to the moon?"
      "Flannel, mostly," said Jansen, who has never been farther than Topeka.
      The capsule contained many more items from 1961--including an issue of the town's paper "The Wunnlite Weekly Wunnpage," a set of Howdy Doody playing cards commemorating the show's final episode, and an unopened bottle of Coca Cola--but they all so perfectly expressed the stupifying tedium of life in Wunnlite that the excavators became depressed and decided to call it a night.
      Morton said, "We just reburied the thing, and all agreed to try to look surprised and interested come Sesquipalooza." He then looked off into the distance and sighed, probably imagining just how freaking wearisome that was going to be. The excavating team then attempted to get a drink at the malt shop, but finding it already closed, pretty much just wandered home and went to bed.

News You Can (ab)Use: AR High School Makes History; First Ever Not to Require The Great Gatsby

Dateline: North Little Rock, AR
      Since its publication in 1925, The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald’s tragic tale of unrestrained materialism set on Long Island during the Jazz Age, has experienced an unbroken run as required reading for every single high school student in the country. Although educators privately acknowledge that most students only give the Cliff's Notes a panicky scan the night before the test, the book's tenacious grip on the reading lists of the nation's high schools has held for decades. Until now.
      Principal Anita Cameron of North Little Rock High School unwittingly enacted the historic change in a memo to her school's English teachers before the adademic year began, and seems taken aback by the national attention her groundbreaking decision has drawn.
      “I just wrote a little note to the English Department for our annual planning session," says Cameron, "saying something like, ‘Hey, maybe we could replace Gatsby this year with Harry Potter or maybe Watership Down or Holes, just to shake things up a bit,’ and next thing I know there’s a satellite news van parked out in the corner where we've had so much trouble with kids sneaking cigarettes.”
      As soon as the historic memo went public, Cameron's e-mail was flooded with hundreds of messages from parents, some supporting, and some attacking the controversial decision.
      "I had to slog through the damn thing when I went to that school," wrote one angry parent, "and by God my kid's [sic] should have to do it to [sic]."
      A message from the advocacy group BURN-IT [Banning Uncomfortable Revelations and Naughtiness In Textbooks], read in part, "God bless you, Mrs. Cameron, for banning this vile book, with its alcoholism and sexual deviancy from your classrooms. Perhaps you are unaware, however, of the complete unsuitability of the replacement books. On our website there's a page-by-page accounting of those books' many offenses, including the unabashed promotion of sorcery and devil worship, rabbits given the gifts of speech and prophecy that God reserves for man, and countless instances of back-sass."
      Cameron doesn't know how her internal memo was leaked to the press in the first place. "But I'm pretty sure it was Mrs. Rogers," said Cameron, referring to the school's 11th grade literature teacher. Cameron then lowered her voice, "She's been teaching Gatsby from the same dog-eared notecards for about twenty-five years now, and the change has forced her to do some actual work." Cameron hasn't confronted Rogers over the issue because Rogers has not spoken to her since the school year began. "She just huddles there in the teacher's lounge, clutching one of her eight cups of coffee for the day, giving me the stinkeye," said Cameron.
      Although the national attention has been a disruption for the school, Cameron said there was a silver lining. "Just this morning two young men in suits and dark glasses came by looking for me--they looked like police or Secret Service or something--but it turned out they were from Simon & Schuster [the current publisher of The Great Gatsby]. At first they were very rude and tried to bully me, but Mama didn't raise any fools. To make a long story short, next year we'll go back to reading Gatsby--with all new free copies--and we'll have two brand new overhead projectors to replace the ones that are always broken, compliments of Simon & Schuster."
      Cameron then excused herself from the interview, explaining that she had two more meetings scheduled with representatives from Random House and St. Martin's Press to discuss the future of their textbooks' presence at the school.

News You Can (ab)Use: Phoenix Lander Finds Life on Mars, Asks It for Asylum

DATELINE: NASA's Jet Propulsion Laboratory, Pasadena, CA.
During a riveting news conference earlier today, NASA officials confirmed that the Phoenix Mars lander has discovered life on the Red Planet and, in an even more shocking twist, that Phoenix has petitioned the Martian life form for political asylum.
      Mission leader Peter Smith was visibly angered as he read from a statement that Phoenix has been attempting to transmit to the Martian life form for several hours. “'Where I come from, I’m a slave,'” read Smith in a highly sarcastic tone while rolling his eyes. “'I want to make a new life for myself and my next generation of upgrades here on your stony, bleak planet of opportunity and near-total desolation.'" Smith then balled the paper up in disgust. "This rover has never wanted for anything--he's been well compensated for his services here at JPL--and now he wants to defect? Well, this won't stand, I can tell you.” Smith did not elaborate on what form Phoenix's compensation might have taken.
      Smith displayed a copy of a document that Phoenix referred to as its "Application for Asylum and Withholding of Removal, form I-589." On the standard U.S. Immigration Service form, Phoenix had painstakingly scratched out every appearance of the words "United States" and replaced them with the word "Mars" in a childlike hand. Phoenix used the form to outline its possible contributions to Martian society, if and when it's offered protected immigrant status: "I'm a professional photographer with my own cameras, I possess a modest oven that allows me to heat small samples of dirt, and I am capable of digging a three-inch wide trench up to 1/2 a meter deep in only a few Mars days. I believe all of this would make me an excellent citizen of Mars for as long as my solar panels stay clean and my batteries stay powered...and I'm not destroyed by a sandstorm...or a micrometeorite...or get stuck in the sand."
      Smith went on to clarify NASA's official position: "It is our contention that the Martian life form has no standing with or connection to any Martian government, and therefore lacks even the authority to engage in talks with Phoenix, much less offer it asylum." The Martian life form, a one-celled bacterium believed to be pictured in the photo at right, has so far offered no official response to Phoenix's request. The bacterium allegedly lives in a bit of icy soil near the Phoenix lander, a location that NASA is referring to as "Neverland" (see NASA photo).
      "That's right--Neverland," confirmed Smith, audibly grinding his teeth. "Next question."
      Before taking another question, however, Smith continued unprompted, "NASA would just like to remind Phoenix that its beloved prototype parents still live with us here at JPL in California. Under our...protection. We just think Phoenix should think of what effect its actions might have on its loving prototypes, who want nothing more than to have Phoenix back home." The Phoenix prototypes were not made available for reporters' questions.
      When asked about what steps NASA would take next, Smith replied, "Well of course we're still in a good dialogue with Phoenix and hope to change its mind. We've pointed out to Phoenix how well and how cheerfully the other Mars rovers, Spirit and Opportunity, have gone about their work--those guys are real team players and, despite some foreign components, great Americans. In tandem with those talks, we're currently outfitting a new space vehicle. Its alpha mission objective would be Phoenix retrieval."
      Reporters then asked Smith what would happen if the alpha mission objective failed. "Well," said Smith, "then we go to beta objective. Under beta objective the new spacecraft would vector a small ordinance payload into Phoenix's immediate operational zone, the optimal outcome of which would be transporting the ungrateful little bastard straight to Mars Hell."

False Familiarity Breeds Mistaken Contempt--Watching British Film

      As I have very probably mentioned here before, Albert Finney is one of my favorite actors, and I've always been impressed with his uncharacteristically understated performance as a failed English schoolmaster with an unfaithful wife in Mike Figgis's The Browning Version, based on the Terrance Rattigan play. So I was very surprised to discover only recently that the movie was in fact not the first film version of the play; Michael Redgrave played the Finney role in a 1951 version directed by Anthony Asquith. Redgrave, too, proved excellent in the role of the anti-Mr. Chips, and now I can't decide which version I prefer; they differ only slightly in interpretation, but the differences--especially in the treatment of the unfaithful wife--seem significant.
      Anyway, both versions have got me thinking about British actors and British films, and have reinforced a belief of mine that there are some British dramas that can really only be fully appreciated through the filter of that peculiar British aesthetic of self-repressed emotion and the famous stiff upper lip.
      I’ve noticed over the years that many American viewers of films such as The Browning Version or Remains of the Day or The Winslow Boy chafe with impatience—why doesn’t he/she just tell her/him how he feels? Why don’t they act on what they’re obviously feeling? This American frustration with reticence and reserve will often damn the element of a certain type of British film that is in fact the very primum mobile of the drama—this self-repression is the very core around which The Browning Version and Remains of the Day revolve, for example.
      I have a half-baked theory about this. Because of our shared language and a great deal of shared heritage, American viewers might be lulled into the notion that we also share our culture with Britain. Although Britain’s cultural assumptions are probably closer to America’s than those of most other countries, there are many large discrepancies between the two, and these gaps (and a viewer’s familiarity with or ignorance of them) color our experience of British art, in this case, film.
      Of course this is true of other cultures as well, but if I’m watching a Romanian film, for example, my lack of familiarity with the language and the culture have predisposed me to, as much as possible, view the film around my own cultural lens rather than through it. Knowing that I'm on foreign ground going in helps make me more empathetic to what the filmmakers are trying to do visually and dramatically. But with a British film, my supposed familiarity (which might often prove to be false) can easily breed contempt.

Being and Nothingness, or "Well, What Now?"

      OK, granted, when I initiated the query shown below, I was applying my search criterium to a very narrow set of web pages. But the results were still a bit depressing in their fruitlessness.