By Jason “Better Massage Through Science” Rhode (@iamthemaster)
Reptile evolution? Well, since the Japanese teens I talk to won’t be on for another six to seven hours, I can give you my own analysis of what this means. I used to just quote from my holy book on these affairs, but since my hardcopy version of “How To Lose a Guy In Ten Days” was cried upon by someone who had just been told by someone that someone had given him chlamydia, I’ll have to shoot from the gut. Oh, and all three of those someones are me, which just goes to show you can’t trust white people.
1. Reptiles move on land — WTF, right? Totally crazy!!!
Take cow farts. Some loono in the heartland, in between turns not listening to his children, has invented a machine that will process cow farts into miracles or some other wonder, whatever. It’s great that cow farts are being used, but what other parts of them are we co-opting these days? The Native Dutch of this country or whatever they were called, lol, used most of the buffaloo for their dark horrific religious rituals and eating rituals, the point is they used all of it, much as pornographer will scrape together every picture he can (it’s almost always a he, that’s one thing college HAS taught me) to make a moving picture, including elbows and playful war footage from the 1940s.
The buffaloo, was, if I’m not incorrect, and I never am, was a priced-to-family roomy sedan roaming the North American continent and parts of Florida (which was a kind of horrible mistake, even back then) for over 10,000 + years of mirth. Now, call me old fashioned, but when a father gets to a certain number of years, in his fifties, as I am, you start thinking, “Jeez, just how many mouths do I need to fill, besides the three that are on my own manbody?”
2. Sometimes a great notion — a notion of eating mammals! LOLWUT?
I tell ya, the wife never shuts up about my three holes. From her screams to god’s ears, am I right? Prayerful! But anyway, I hear that old ragtime music playing inside my head, which means it’s time to move on to what my lawyer calls “the confession, Oh Jesus, Mr. Rhode, don’t start weeping again, that doesn’t convince a jury you’re innocent at all.” To which I scream as a gentlemen “I WENT TO COLLEGE.” But in a totally cute way.
(Side note: If Oscar Pistorius’s name was pronounced as “Piss-Story-Bus,” with spaces and everything, would we forgive him? We probably would, if we thought of him more as a shaman, y’know, the kind that lives on yogurt during Burning Man, and not as a blade-footed cyborg that runs faster than us to murder blondes by the hundreds. What is he, a Japanese horror villain? Answer: yes. This is South Africa, which is equivalent to our own American South, except in Africa, and with less fat people. Let’s remember this is the country that elected Morgan Freeman president under the name of Nielsen Mandollar, and therefore anything is possible, and South Africa is a place where dreams take wing, except when those dreams are dating Oscar PissStoryBus.)
3. Lizards Make A Pact With Satan, Part IV
Back to cow farts, and my theories on The Matrix. I suppose what gets me is the hideous real realness of it. We already rest so much on the back of cows: meat, our political leadership, our standard of beauty. What next won’t we foist on the shoulders of these bovine, gentle morons?
“Turn to the cow,” as the Good Book says, the Good Book being “Stanfell’s Guide to Practical Boviculture, Fifth Edition,” at least in my household. Humans are great. Here are animals we took, genetically engineered it for our own benefit, much as we did Fat Albert, to produce beef and milk for us — again, the Fat Albert analogy holds here too.
These cows are creatures that can’t reproduce or survive without our help. Our relationship with them is similar to the public’s relationship with Disney Channel music stars; a strong enough frost would kill the lot of them, but whose fault is it that they’re in the world? God’s? No, God is off on a cloud somewhere, throwing grenades into atheist bake-sales and upgrading the hookworm, don’t look to him for help.
4. A Princess Among The Ruins: Amphibians Invent Language, Dissing.
We made the cow, and ASIMO the abomination on two legs, and the part of Reddit that celebrates baby weddings or some shit, and so the blame for the cow and its horrible, irreligious lifestyle falls upon us. I guess you could say … We “Had” a “Cow”! That’s a reference to the new show The Simpsons … lets all the “The ‘Bartman'”! Hahaha, current pop culture reference.
Not only did we make the cow, we made a lot of them, trillions if my numb3rs are correct, and since I joined BitCoin’s team, they usually are. If you’ll look on my pet project, CowWiki, you’ll see suggestive poses aren’t all that cows do — they’re not zoo animals, who are basically worthless parasites we laugh at when drinking craft brews. Cows provide us with beef, which is key in providing heart attacks, so we keep the population down. Unfortunately, thanks to someone (his name is Gary, and he lives at Hillcrest Lane in [REDACTED] town), more people are being born than ever before. That means more beef is needed, ergo, more cows.
6. Fuck: The Second Incarnation
To sum up:
1) We take natural cows and make a hideous genetic clusterfuck out of them, and
2) We spread this Bruce Jenner mutancy far and wide as if we were the Johnny Appleseed of fuck-no.
At no point is this the fault of the cows. Now, that we’re really in danger of climate changing the world into some first-class blue-ribbon Castlevania shit, who do we fall back on? Who gets our hate, now that Shirley Temple’s dark-magic-infested corpse has been dumped into the volcanic cracks near Mount Doom?
We blame cow farts, since, God forbid, we should stop driving our cars to “BonerTown Frolics: The Musical” (this is my new musical, by the way, opening in every town worthy of mentioning) and wherever it is that all of us buy weed. Cows are only 25% responsible for our climate change problems, which is like explaining to my AA group that 25% of my self-esteem comes from the quotes written in my high school yearbook: true, but not really the meat of the problem.
7. Oh god why can’t I stop this is just a neurotic need I have LOLWUT?
So we get to:
3) It’s all our fault, this global warming biz. How classic of us, when given the choice, between focusing on the 75% of climate change we make directly and the 25% our overbred moo-tants, we focus the blame on our blasphemous gene children.
We crowdsource our failures to everyone else, like a drunk cursing everyone at a wedding for making him fat with their secret jealousy of his swinger lifestyle. I see I’ve already brought too much autobiography into this scholarly work, but the public is a dreadful, fickle beast, and hopefully my truth bombs will act as a taser to fill up the eyeballs of readers with the pregnancy of fact. I don’t really get how human biology works, having spent most of my time today researching cows for this little commentary of mine.
8. Rise of the mammals, or how Stella Got Her Groove Back
It’s already taken me away from my Judge Judy fanfic, and my series of paintings (they’re called “Bible Circus” for a reason people). Also, look for my series of musics this summer where I rap about ladies and fire off tiny guns to show how much I’ve grown in these last couple of years. I feel as if I’ve brought a little light to this thing we’re all in called “life.”