Caveat Canem Croceum's Open Salon Blog

Have a Ball: 2/1 or maybe ... (with added text and gloss)

Mon, 4 May 2009 16:05:34 -0400

Thank you all for playing with my balls. And thank you, Jostlin' Testes Harder, for NOT :-).

Your comments were much more fun and imaginative than my original. But for those still interested in delving into the ontological/epistemological depths behind the photos and captions, here's a profound exegesis.

#1: I kicked this guy's balls.

TRUE.

TLJ was resident jock, leader of pick-up games and curator of sports equipment of all kinds: footballs, of course, lacrosse sticks, tennis racquets, basketballs, soccer balls, you name it, he had it -- even twelve-foot oars for crew!

The balls in question were his soccer balls, kicked around in the quad.

So, damn, no deification by hatchetman, I never played on the football team. But hey, I was quite a bit younger than most of these guys, hadn't grown to my adult Boxer size, and soccer style kickers weren't in vogue yet.

#2: I inhaled with these dudes at a ball. They both won Nobel Prizes for something green.

#2 a. HALF TRUE

I inhaled with only one of these guys at said ball. Maybe technically that makes the whole statement false.

For reasons of confidentiality and assurance of continued safety and well-being of self and family, I cannot be more specific. Let me just say that Tipper was with Junior at every dance. So you decide.

#2 b. TRUE

Al Gore, of course, won the Nobel Peace Prize for inventing the Internet -- can't be greener than that.

Marty Chalfie couldn't hack it as a math major, switched to something soft like biochem, discovered green fluorescent protein (GFP) and won the Nobel Prize in Chemistry. Go figure.

#3: I have balls. You just can't see 'em in the picture.

#3. TRUE/FALSE: Elusive. Illusive. Allusive.

Depends on who "I" is ("I" am? "I" are?) If it is the author of this piece, he is mercifully still intact, as Dharmabummer kindly allowed.

If "I" is the woefully hangdog canine in the photo, and alas, he has indeed been "fixed." His name is "Orion," not to be confused with the reprobate, now dead, distant cousin O'Ryan, who blotted the family escutcheon; daughter wanted to name him (the dog, not the cousin) Beetlejuice after her favorite movie character, but wiser heads and an early lesson in astronomy prevailed. However, as the Axeman perceptively pointed out, and which was indeed the author's original conceit, Orion does occasionally play with exogenous objects of spheroidal shape used in human/canine interactions.

BALLS! So now we get to define balls ........

WOOF.

Have a Ball: 2/1 or maybe 2 1/2 to 1 1/2 (it all depends)

Fri, 1 May 2009 20:05:54 -0400

#1: I kicked this guy's balls.

#2: I inhaled with these dudes at a ball. They both won Nobel Prizes for something green.

#3: I have balls. You just can't see 'em in the picture.

Go ahead. Have a ball figuring it all out.

WOOF.

OS Cover-up: Secret Torture Memo Revealed

Thu, 30 Apr 2009 15:04:44 -0400

You have asked for this Office's views on whether certain proposed editorial conduct would violate the prohibitions against torture of readers and writers found at Section 2340A of title 18 of the Littérateurs Sans Frontières Internationale Convention of 1896.

First, Nanki-poo, lose the goddamn Française. Know what that did for Kerry -- that other Kerry, meathead.

Second, sing the department ditty¹:

As some day it may happen
that a victim must be found,
I've got a little list —
I've got a little list
Of society offenders
who might well be underground,
And who never would be missed —
who never would be missed!
Martyn Greene as Ko-Ko, 1930s

And finally, remember they are detainees, never readers or writers. We detain 'em, harvest their eyeballs, convert it to revenue, end of story.

It is when they object to voluntary eyeball-plucking, the following techniques gleaned from the SREE (Surviving Rapid Editorial Ejection) Handbook may be used singly or in combination and are approved for Cover Selection, Editorial Nose Picking and Earwax Removal (hereafter called " Cover See 'n Pee").

Intellectual Deprivation² (none dare call it Torture by U-Tube):

For optimal deprivation, the white space should not be sullied by text. Our exemplars represent the purest pinnacles of this approach by limiting their intellectual contributions to:

"A friend sent this to me and I thought it would be fun to watch"
and the award-winning, minimalist: "Thanks, Redeye."

Lord Ko-Ko's marginalia: Hahaha. Start all three simultaneously for maximum ~~torture~~ effectiveness and watch the ~~victims~~ subjects' brains turn to mush.

Professorial (Pin)Pricks:

Mindless hash combined with rapid-fire reviews of TV trash. Best exemplified by pinhead from the Bronx who teaches stuff like "Comparative Eclectic Media Studies - Free Brunch Provided".

If reviews prove to be heavy lifting, substitute plot-lines lifted from TV Guide.

Bombard with deep conclusions about real life from someone named Jack Bauer, pitched at the level of high school sophomores :

"Do ends justify the means?"
and "If a terrorist was going to blow up NYC, would torture be permissible?"

Apparently Jack did, NYC was saved and the professor got his automatic.

Lord Ko-Ko: Note, Nanki-poo, how the cranial vacuum created by U-Tube is now receptive to the ~~painful~~ restorative stimuli of such timeless television as "24 Lost Cylon Survivors Wife Swap on Project Runway." DO NOT STOP till you see uncontrollable tics and twitches caused by misfiring synapses.

Columnist Colonic Irrigation:

Now that their brains have been emptied, other cavities may be explored to extract detainees' precious bodily fluids. Previously named after Gen. Jack D. Ripper, this technique is now simply known as Sirotasis.

Enlist the aid of some incessantly self- aggrandizing soi disant journalist specializing in vaunting his expertise by putting his own U-Tube clips en blog and transcribing what he himself said in purple prose. This advanced combination technique is especially efficacious ~~against~~ for hearing-impaired readers or those who do not understand spoken English.

Lord Ko-Ko: It is not helpful to note that posting clips about yourself and transcribing them is symbolically equivalent to the results obtained by use of above apparatus.

Dietary Manipulation³ aka "Warmed-over Newsfeed":

Assume that readers have no other sources of information at their disposal other than OS. Clog the Cover with unattributed cribs about fifteen-minute- famers after seventeen minutes have elapsed:

Susan Boyle Undressed
Carrie Prejean's Depressed
Lindsay Lohan's a Mess

Effectiveness of this technique is enhanced by inclusion of U-Tube clip.

Lord Ko-Ko: Hahaha. Wait till we hit 'em with "Anoop Desai in a Dress." They will be like putty in our hands, I tellya.

Nudity⁴- I'm not called Lord Ko-Ko of Titipu for nothing:

When it is deemed that the detainees have reached the nadir of sensory numbness -- stimulate them. TITILLATE them.

In the aptly named Titipu Attack, the old deprivation/excitation technique is raised to new heights. Plaster the cover with:

Call Girls with PhDs
Devils with Dildos (remember, the mental age of our subjects is fourteen; don't know why but dildos always get a rise)
Gay Teabagging Cougars Troll for Underage Lolitas -- Is this Legal? Ethical?

Lord Ko-Ko: Got 'em all, ya think? The entire demographic? And the tone is high enough for Joan, with those question marks? Damn, too bad we can't splash some money shots right on the cover.

And it is imperative you keep the bot-sponsored "Sexiest Men Living" and "Pitbulls in Spamalot" on the feed 24/7. These are the most mindless weapons in our arsenal to keep the masses writhing in a state of impotent tumescence -- horny but helpless -- a necessary precursor to our penultimate technique.

Abdominal Grasp/Hold/Slap-and-Tickle⁵:

It has been determined that the abdomen covers a wide expanse, anatomically speaking. This technique aims for the lowest part of that region in male detainees.

Just as the hard-up male OS member is expecting blissful relief, feeling his abdomen grasped or held, he opens his eyes to face Mistress Doom:

Jostlin' Testicles Harder

Game over. La Belle Dame sans Merci hath thee in thrall!

The technique is, of course, called "The Tchaikovsky." JTH is our best executrix, guaranteeing permanent irritation without concomitant satisfaction. Attitude-heavy. Content-free. Automatic cover.

Lord Ko-Ko: And if all else fails, you are authorized to use the threat of the thermonuclear option.

The Thermonuclear Option

Threaten

to

Resurrect

OH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

PLEASE, NOT HERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

NOT DOC A ...........................AAAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHH!

WE GIVE UP. WE FOLD. YOU WIN. DO WITH US AS YOU WILL.

Lord Ko-Ko: Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.

Defer, defer,
To the noble Lord,
To the noble Lord High Executioner!
Bow down, bow down,
To the Lord High Executioner!¹

Coda:

Non amo te, Sabidi, nec possum dicere quare;
Hoc tantum possum dicere,
Non amo te.
- Martialis I.32

WOOF
__________________________________________________

Notes:

1. The Mikado by W.S. Gilbert and Arthur Sullivan (1885)

The following are excerpted from the summary in the New York Times of the Justice Department memos describing interrogation techniques used by the Central Intelligence Agency.

2. Sleep Deprivation: Intellectual deprivation may be substituted for sleep, as in the following paragraph mutatis mutandis.

“It is clear that intellectual deprivation does not involve severe physical pain ... so long as such deprivation (as you have informed us is your intent) is used for limited periods, before hallucinations or other profound disruptions of the senses would occur.”

3. Dietary Manipulation: “This technique involves the substitution of commercial liquid meal replacements for normal food, presenting detainees with a bland, unappetizing, but nutritionally complete diet.”

4. Nudity: “Although some detainees might be humiliated by this technique, especially given possible cultural sensitivities and the possibility of being seen by female officers, it cannot constitute ‘severe mental pain or suffering’ under the statute.”

5. Abdominal Slap: " The abdominal slap, like other corrective techniques, can be combined with more stressful techniques, such as wall standing, water dousing and stress positions."

Liveblogging the Boston Tea Party - 4/15/1773

Wed, 15 Apr 2009 18:04:08 -0400

BOSTON
April 15, 1773

CCC: (In hushed tones -- think golf announcers after another Mickelson muff.)

Responding to His Master's Voice, loping into the city from the Western boonies, reverse-tracking Paul Revere who is yet to ride (but not stopping off at any of the pubs along the way like that sot), I have infiltrated the Republico-Liberto-Anarcho-Syndicalist meeting heah in Boston Hahbah.

Psst, Zerry, I know how much you looove to have YouTube ready video clips of these ~~poops~~ scoops of breaking news events. But they would have had my nads (figuratively speaking; for, of course, I am nad-less) if I tried to sneak in a video camera. So perforce I have to use text (know how much you looove to read), and I did get some pretty pictures.

3:19 PM Approaching Faneuil Hal where the meeting is to be held.

4:13 PM: The vast meeting hall is almost empty. Since there are only three known Republicans in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts this is not too surprising. They had invited some loony Libertarians from neighboring New Hampshire to swell the ranks. But they apparently stopped at the only feature

of interest in that entire benighted state, partook of their purchases liberally en route and were apprehended and detained by Massachusetts State Troopers south of Pheasant Tree Mall on Route 3 at Tyngsboro.

They are charged with singing "Live Free or Die" (badly, to the tune of "Ode to Joy") south of the border of insanity and with what is a felony in Massachusetts: DWR-D/S (Driving While Republican-Drunk, which is not that much better than S-sober).

4:27 PM Still nobody here but us chickens. By that I mean a couple of security goons in Brown Shirts and a buncha competition: live bloggers from Huffpo, Slate, WingnutStreetJournal, PatDobsonPosse and the like. We are getting thirsty.

4:35 PM Finally. Here come some party members. But WTF? Why are they all wearing masks? Delegate: Hey, I may be Republican, but I ain't crazy. You think I want my wife to find out?

4:37 PM Daddy Warbucks ascends podium.He's sloshed.

Warbucks: (Hic) My friends. My name is Grover Numbnuts (Harvard AB'79 Government. MBA'81). I'm from Weston, Mass. so I understand the problems of the little guy. I would like to flush government down the toilet. That is why I have been sucking at its teat inside the Beltway for the last 28 years.

(Burp) Ronald Reagan was the greatest. Kicking off his campaign in Philadelphia, Miss. (hahaha, the greatest thespian of them all; so they killed a N***** and a coupla J**s nearby, we all gotta die some time). Welfare queens. Hahaha, ask not who the taxes come from, ask who they go to. Nudge Nudge Wink Wink. (BAAAARRRRFFF.)

4:55 PM Sarah Palin kicks the unconscious Numbnuts a couple of times to try to revive him, then steps to the mike.

Palin: My friends. Let us pray. Pastor Muthee, who laid hands on me and filled me with the spirit, told me not to come to this Barney Frank-land, this haven for homos and heathens. But I came. I came.

My friends, I come from a hard-working, middle-class family. I was leading a miserable little life, married to an Eskimo snowmobiler in A-effing-laska for Chrissake -- no, they don't have thirty goddamn words for snow, now shut up and listen -- but, nevertheless, overcame great odds to live the American Dream:

$150,000 worth of designer dresses, cosmetics, purses, hats (eat your heart out Sloan, baby) shoes, shoes, shoes.....

And now they want me to pay TAXES on it. No fuckin' way. (Stomps off the stage, grinding her Manolo Blahnik heels into Grover's numb nuts for good measure).

5:20 PM: McCain steps on stage gazing longingly at Palin's retreating figure. He's obviously had a coupla snorts.

McCain: DRILL, BABY, DRILL. Haha, my friends. Where was I? Wrong script. Hey, where the hell is Punjab?

(Hic) We need some damn Indians to be the fall guys in throwin' all them tea bags off them ships.

(Punjab, bejeweled and berobed, dutifully appears.)

(Burp) There you are, Poonjie. How about a goddamn refill? Throat's dry. And double time. Chop chop.

(Hic. Burp. Snort. He's feelin' it now.) One if by land, two if by sea. Never did understand what the fuck that meant, my friends. Oh shit, wrong script again.

OK, who's supposed to give the signal then? Sam Adams? SAM ADAAAMS.

5:37 PM Punjab miraculously re-appears with a coupla cases of, you guessed it:

HuffPO, WSJ, Slate, the loonies in masks, and yes, your intrepid reporter, all in a mad scramble. A veritable melee.

6:10 PM A rollicking McCain addresses the Tea Partiers. Grover's still unconscious. Palin's gone off to Filene's.

McCain: "Ho ho ho! And a bottle of rum. Sixteen men on a dead man's chest....."

My friends, you all know what has to be done. We Republicans don't give a shit about the environment. Who gives a damn about 5 cents for the returnables. Homeless Harry ain't here to dig through the garbage. Let's all take them empties and throw 'em into Boston Harbor. Hey, Poonjie, you take the lead.

And so we all danced off to the waterside in a broken conga line and dumped the empties into the Harbor. Cheers, Zerr.

6:30 PM The Society of Patriotic Ladies reclaimed their positions for their regular cuppa.

WOOF

Amazon Adult Ratings -- the OS Edition

Tue, 14 Apr 2009 16:04:06 -0400

Reading in the NYT about the ratings travails of giant authors like James Baldwin and E.M. Forster after being consigned to the Adult bin by Amazonian midgets, I had to find out first hand what company their books were keeping.

I must be the only person on Open Salon that didn't realize Amazon even had an Adult division. If one spends all of one's spare time alternating between Monty Python and Dostoyevsky, one is evidently not an adult, so.....

The screenshot of Amazon's Adult Products above is not for mere titillation. Examine it closely. Together with the not unexpected Desi & Elli Fox: Mother/Daughter Porn Team and works by the memorably yclept Sook-yin Lee and Sean Biggerstaff ..... SURPRISE! We have the rather improbable coupling of:

The Book of Mormon (Hardcover) by Joseph Jr. Smith (sic)
Nicomachean Ethics by Aristotle and Terence Irwin (the redoubtable Prof. Irwin is doubtless thrilled at the billing)

There had to be more. Gorgias by Plato and Irwin, perhaps? I had to slip past

Cheeky! by Yulia Mayarchuk,
A Parent's Guide to Preventing Homosexuality by (Who gives a fuck -- is that a parent or a pedophile on the cover?)
The Big Penis Book (probably by Sean Biggerstaff again -- and that has to be a banana.)

I barely glanced at the "Sexy School Girl Mini Skirt" (in electric tartan - $29.95), "Dreamgirl Open Crotch Thong" (unverifiable because the vital spot was black-blobbed, so Caveat Emptor -- $24.95) or "Rough Rider Anal Lube" (literally Priceless). And sure enough, there it was, in the heart of the Adult Community of Amazon:

So now I don't understand the kvetching of some of the authors quoted in the NY Times:

Mark R. Probst, the author of “The Filly,” a gay western romance for young adults
Craig Seymour, an associate professor of communications at Northern Illinois University and the author of “All I Could Bare: My Life in the Strip Clubs of Gay Washington, D.C.”
Daniel Mendelsohn, an author whose memoir “The Elusive Embrace” lost its sales ranking over the weekend.

I am sure these writers and their works are of great moment and import. One would think they would be ecstatic keeping company with such immortals as Baldwin, Forster, Aristotle and Dostoyevsky (not to mention Joseph Jr. Smith). On the other hand, if it's exposure that Messrs. Probst et al want, they could do worse than join Open Salon.

The OS Edition:

Here they would not only not be remaindered onto the cut-price piles in the back room, they would be virtually guaranteed automatic EPs and Open Salon Cover status. For it has been reliably learnt that the Editors are looking for replacements for such erstwhile worthies as:

AmyTuteurMD. Dearly departed and loudly lamented, who can fill her void? Her oeuvre, and each opus a timeless OS Cover:

Cosmo and the Zipless F*ck (note the demure asterisk)
Your genital piercing got infected? Bummer
"Sex Can Kill" "Viagra Can Kill" "Orgasms Can Kill" "Transplant shame (?) Can Kill" "Syringes Can Kill" "Sandwiches Can Kill"
and "She used WHAT as a Dildo?" OMG, a .......

How would you like to be on a desert island with a thanatophobic sex fantasist?

jeffrey dach md. Creationist. Vitaminist. Bio-identical Hormonalist. Anti-aging and Wellness clinicist. (Hullo, Drs. Scruggs and Lucente
-- also of anti-aging, wellness and, wait for it, STEROIDS fame).

amaresh ambarkar. The Acne Guy. "Baby Acne and What You Must Know."

De mortuis nils nisi bonum and all that. But who will replace them? Such authors as Jostling Testicles Harder, Larry the Loon (Gavia Canadiensis); titles like "Craig's List Call Girl with PhD"(open call), "Brazilians have big NUTS!" (foodie humor); the Eds straining at Tea Party coverage of Republican circle jerks? Close, but no Clinton cigar.

I say if we can't have Plato or Aristotle on the Cover, if we can't lure "The Filly" Probst or Prof. "All I Could Could Bare" Seymour to OS, at least give us:

SEAN BIGGERSTAFF

WOOF

Copiously noted for Mrs. M.:

Nota bene: Junior members will observe how the inclusion of the talismanic "OS" in the title, no matter how tortured the connection, transforms an otherwise trivial piece into a transcendental Über-meta post.

Foot Notes: Try Pussy Foot'n Vol 21 (2007) Starring: Alexis Amore, Rebecca Lineras Format: DVD. No customer reviews yet. Be the first.

End Notes: Cheeky! (Producers Cut, Unrated, English Version) (2000) might well be the living end, the end-all-and-be-all of the genre.

Starring: Yuliya Mayarchuk, Jarno Berardi Director: Tinto Brass Rating: Unrated Format: DVD