Teefury

Braains 2012 summarises everything I feel about most political campaigns and politicians, and the idea of pinning your hopes on the manufactured persona of a carefully managed figurehead.  There are usually a few worthy and honourable people in any party, but they are drowned out by a sea of posturing idiots and soundbite friendly meaningless drivel designed for 24hour news shows and the lowest common denominator voter who needs to be told what their opinion should be. Basically, if you can’t work out the multiple meanings in this design, you’re probably not qualified to vote on the future of your country, whichever country that may be.

 

I live in Australia, a weird place that exists in the very near future yet somehow also manages to be stuck in the past.

 

Crayonism. It’s what all the cool kids under 10 are doing.

 

I’d go back about 15 billions years, just before lunch. I’d take Stephen Hawking, Michio Kaku and Keith Richards with me, with a quick stop in 1996 to pickup Carl Sagan and 1988 to kidnap Richard Feynman, because we’d need someone to play the bongos when we arrived. When I returned tomorrow I told only my son what we saw, and he swore never to reveal it to anyone. Hawking told the dirtiest joke involving midgets, LSD and giraffes I’ve ever heard and Sagan is to blame for what happened to Earth’s 9 other moons.

 

To see my children smile as they grow up for as long as possible. And to invent a shotgun that shoots cotton candy. The two goals are actually connected.

 

I’d put an end to the trend of guys wearing a deep vneck tee with a long scarf looped multiple times around their neck during Summer. I’d like to start the trend of people being dragged through the streets by their ridiculously long scarves if they don’t knock it off quick smart.

 

In this case I’m going to assume the fight will take the form of a drunken 3 sided debate at a dinner party. Assuming also that the aliens have the technology to make it to Earth from some nearby inhabited galaxy or perhaps a parallel dimension/universe where everything is identical except for the cheese then I imagine they would probably be able to present some fairly strong arguments to support their view that Socialism is the way forward and the very reason they were able to develop FTL travel and utilize a small blackhole to punch a hole in space/time to traverse universes to ours in time for the entrée. The zombies naturally would counter that Communism is the only acceptable means of governing the shuffling masses, but then they would become confused by the socially acceptable order to use spoons, forks and knives while in polite company. I’d use this momentary distraction to jump the table, grab the carving knife from the roast and quickly dismember the zombies. Then, while the alien representatives regained their wits I’d fling the gravy tureen at them and set fire to the curtains with a flaming shishkebab, burning the mansion down to the ground with everyone/everything in it. HUMANS FTW!

 

The law firm representing George Lucas, I’d imagine.

 

It was for my cousin, about 30 years ago. He was/is a huge Bruce Springsteen fan, and wanted a tshirt with the Boss standing in front of the US flag, his back to us like his album cover, but his pants down and the words “Enter the tunnel of love” below. (Yes, he knew what he was asking for, but he thought it would be funny to wear to school). I actually handpainted it using fabric paints. And yes, he wore it. Our parents just shook their heads, wondering what kind of failures their sons would one day turn into.

 

Definitely not the experience above.

 

Steve Martin, Bill Murray and Chevy Chase – thanks for making me laugh so much over the years.