Around the Cracked offices, we have an annual tradition every New Year where all the staff gather around and publicly make promises as to how they’ll be better comedy citizens in the coming year.

“I’m going to get really good at baking, and bring treats to all the Cracked meetings” says Brockway. We clap lightly. It’s very generous of him.

“No more suicide pacts,” says Swaim, again.

“I’m going to bench 8,000 kilograms” says DOB, winking at me to indicate he was using metric units for my benefit. Or because he likes me. I cross my legs.

“Waitresses,” says Wolinsky, adding no verbs, modifiers or physical gestures to indicate what he will or won’t be doing with the waitresses. We fill in the blanks quietly to ourselves.

According to a Wikipedia entry which has probably been deleted by now, New Year’s resolutions were first invented in 1979 by Tony Danza on the set of Taxi [citation needed]. They’re also famous for how rarely they’re followed through on, with most people abandoning them within a matter of months. Gyms always report massive surges in new members joining in January of each year, as legions of well meaning and doughy individuals set out to lose all the turkey weight they’ve accumulated. And those same memberships almost always fall idle in February, the whole country slowly gaining back that weight in Chicken McNuggets.

But let’s say you really want to follow through on your resolution this year. Whether it’s due to excess levels of motivation, or a really glaring personal shortcoming that can no longer be ignored, this is finally going to be the year you finally stop shitting in the sink. Here then is some advice for you, which I’ve compiled from my observations of past years resolutions around the office.

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Resolution: Spend more time with friend/family member/significant other.

Why: I dunno. Are you dying? You say you love them? Heh.

Sure fire way to succeed: Develop a shared hobby or passion. Or just handcuff yourself to them while they’re sleeping for some hilarious buddy-cop comedy hijinx. If that’s too out there for you, also consider the more discrete route of matching nipple piercings connected by a medium gauge chain.

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Resolution: Lose weight

Why: To improve your self image, physical fitness and reduce wear and tear on your car’s suspension.

Sure fire way to succeed: If I was a doctor - and there’s several reasons I’m not - I’d recommend eating right and working out if you’re interested in losing weight. But speaking in my non-licensed opinion I’d also suggest you look into amputations or horse-enemas.

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Resolution: Quit drinking

Why: It’s tearing your family apart, jeopardizing your health, and causing inadvertant internet video sensations.

Sure fire way to succeed: Remove yourself from friends and situations where you would normally drink. Befriend some Mormans, or young children. Alternately, get pregnant.

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Resolution: Learn a new hobby

Why: So so much free time. Also no-one wants to hang out with you for long.

Sure fire way to succeed: Join a club. Finding like minded people with similar interests is a great way to keep your interest in a hobby from waning, so if you want to learn how to, say, swap wives with strange men in a dimly lit room, just ask some questions in the right internet forums.

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Resolution: Get out of debt

Why: Build a solid financial foundation for your future, not get your kneecaps caved in.

Sure fire way to succeed: Pay Yourself First. Every paycheck make sure to set aside a small amount that goes directly towards your debt. Your bank should be able to set this up to happen automatically. Also good is the combination of Property Crime and eBay.

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Resolution: Get organized

Why: You’re always late and can never remember where you left your wallet or kids.

Sure fire way to succeed: Keep lists, and make habits. As an example, buy a little hook at the hardware store and place it by your front door. Always hang your keys there when you get home. Larger hooks will serve for children.

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Resolution: Eat right

Why: Standing up takes awhile. You wish more surfaces had banisters.

Sure fire way to succeed: Enlist someone else to join you in eating right, ideally someone who lives with you. By supporting one another you’ll manage to get your potato chip intake down to 3 servings per day in no time!

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Resolution: Volunteer

Why: You have a predilection towards self-satisfied smugness, are fleshing out a college application, or actually genuinely care about the plight of others.

Sure fire way to succeed: Volunteering once is easy. Volunteering repeatedly is the tricky thing. How do you do it? Get caught committing a minor crime (public nudity is great). Community service is indistinguishable from volunteering in the eyes of all the most popular theologians.

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Resolution: Travel

Why: Always wanted to see what television is like in other countries.

Sure fire way to succeed: The reason many people don’t travel is because of all the other commitments in their life. Work, family, a new season of 24 to watch, etc… So the answer is simple: re prioritize your life. Move travel to the top of your list of priorities. This works best if you can combine it with a hobby, like scuba diving, or sleeping with other men’s wives.

First I should probably define my terms a little. By “hardcore” I don’t mean that I wait in front of stores the day before a game releases, or have an online handle like “AssAssAssin” and scream profanities at ten year olds. I don’t hang out with other video game people or talk to other video game people on the Internet. I’m kind of embarrassed by other video game people in fact. No, by “hardcore” I mean that I like games that are, you know, “good.”

Technically I’m more of a lapsed hardcore gamer. Although I’ve owned something like 10 systems in my life, I stopped playing video games entirely for a few years - perhaps not coincidentally, a period in my life which saw a marked improvement in my odor and ability to talk to girls. It was at this time that I began to view the hundreds of hours I poured into various electronic worlds with a certain amount of regret. “Wow, my time really wasn’t very valuable back then,” I said, clucking my tongue. “Stop hitting yourself, loser,” I’d add, hitting myself.

It was fucked up.

So as a lapsed gamer, I had no burning desire to get back into it in a serious way when the current generation of systems rolled around. In fact, aside from a genuine passion for the Grand Theft Auto games, and a passing interest in a couple others (Bioshock, Fallout 3) I look at the top games for the Xbox360 or PS3 and I shrug. It’s all just racecars and space marines, you know? I feel like I’ve played it all already. I got my merit badge in Space Marinery 15 fucking years ago.

Which I guess is the main reason I bought a Wii. Finally there was going to be something new.

The low-res graphics didn’t matter to me either, and frankly I think you’re kind of an idiot of you say they matter to you. The correlation rate between gorgeous graphics and good games isn’t terribly high - especially when you take games from previous generations into consideration. That’s not to say I’m a complete low-fi snob - high end graphics can be used to create useful game features. The foliage in Far Cry for example, or the natural staining effects in that last Leisure Suit Larry game. But those sorts of revelations are few and far between.

And that fancy new controller, the one that promised to open up whole new worlds of video game design. How did that work out? Well the highlights include Resident Evil 4, Metroid Prime 3 and Mario Kart Wii. All those games are fucking rad on the Wii, and I couldn’t imagine playing them with tiny little nipple joysticks. Seriously, pointing at something and shooting it is fun. Whip-sawing a little plastic wheel back and forth is fun. Screw you guys with your beards and your smoking jackets and your dual analog sticks. I’ll be over here having fun.

But just about everything else on the Wii has barely used the Wiimote’s abilities. Even games like Wind Waker and Super Mario Galaxy. I honestly can’t remember what the Wiimote was used for in those games. I recall wiggling it around a lot. (You get a lot of that on the Wii actually.) But at least Zelda and Mario were good games - they are in pretty limited company. The number of games on the Wii that meet my personal sniff test as “good” is something like a half dozen. Even for someone with a pretty limited appetite for games, I find that a little lean. Unlike apparently every other Wii owner I have no interest in cooking games or surgery games or whatever the fuck they publish for the Wii these days. Games about sewing? Yoshi’s Hair & Nail Salon? Wii Animal Husbandry?

It’s not exactly surprising that the Wii has had very little triple-A games released for it. Three years ago, absolutely no-one in the industry expected the Wii to be a success, most predicting the exact opposite. And seeing as it takes around three years to make a high end game, that’s a pretty good explanation why the Wii’s cupboard remains so bare. Not that that makes it suck any less to be a Wii owner.

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So what do I want? I mean, other than to bitch and complain that is. Let’s start with:

A decent first person shooter.
A racing game without blue shells.
A game where you can swing around a lightsaber and it is awesome.

And what are the odds of getting those?

Well, let me show you a couple charts. The first one is for the sales across all systems for the latest Call of Duty game. (graph courtesy vgchartz.com)

That thin wedge at the bottom represents the Wii’s sales, a figure so small that I believe it’s dwarfed by the number of copies of the game eaten by raccoons during shipping. If I was a third party developer I’d look at this graph, and decide to never devote another cent to Wii development for anything that isn’t a Dora the Explorer fishing game. Hardcore gamers don’t buy games for the Wii. Apparently I don’t exist.

On the other hand, the size of the Wii’s install base is well past the point where it can be safely ignored or disregarded. Even if a sizable portion of the Wii’s owners have no interest in playing anything besides the cow-riding game in Wii Play, that still leaves millions of Wii owners out there who do. And that’s how crazy shit like this can happen:

Yes, that’s a Wii game outselling Halo 3. Sure Mario Kart is a venerable franchise, and all games made by Nintendo sell well, but still. A game on the Wii is outselling Halo.

So as for the likelihood of more “good” games coming out for the Wii in the future, I dunno - there’s factors either way. I guess the reasonable thing to say is that “it can’t get any worse than it is,” because currently the only thing my Wii is doing is keeping a couple DVD’s elevated an inch or so above whatever it is the Wii is resting on.

So Someone threw their shoes at the President this weekend. Shoes. The President. I know. We wouldn’t really be a comedy site if we didn’t discuss this at least a little bit, would we?

Anyways, here’s the facts: During a press conference, an Iraqi reporter carefully removed both his shoes, stood up and proceeded to throw them, one after the other, at President Bush. The President responded, sensibly, by ducking twice. His attacker, now out of ammunition, then responded by being tackled to the floor by a team of Secret Service Agents. And aside from some glib shoe puns, that was the end of it.

Right of the bat, my first reaction was to be marginally impressed at the President’s reflexes. Bush has taken a lot of stick for being a terrible president, which is probably fair, given his generally high levels of terribleness. But did you see the speed of that duck? That was Mortal Kombat fast. I half expected to see a harpoon come flying out of his coat sleeve after the first shoe sailed past.

Second reaction: Where was the Secret Service? I gather they’ve taken some flak already about this, although mainly from pencil-necked pundits and bloggers like myself, nattering away safe in our beds. Just milling around the Internet, I’ve seen lots of sweaty outrage about “the second shoe” today. It does seem a little surprising that a guy could fire two whole shoes at the President of the United States before someone stopped him. What if they were one of those knife boots the kids are into these days? That could have done some damage.

In all fairness to the Secret Service, they have tightened security up a lot in the last forty years.

But upon further reflection, the Secret Service agents probably handled this as effectively as possible. The guy was throwing shoes - although they probably could have shot him before he got that second shoe off, what do you have then? A dead guy with no shoes on, that’s what, and then you’re asked to leave the country and never come back. Considering how widely loved Bush is in Iraq (check back this time next year for the Iraqi’s first National “Fuck Bush Day”) it’s probably a minor miracle that he’s able to go there at all and come home alive, much less with a tread mark on his skull.

Third reaction: Oh, good work Bundy. The Iraq war has kind of fallen out of the American public’s consciousness the last year or so, mainly because it just leaves everyone feeling kind of bummed I guess. So this little stunt has, on the surface, brought it back to the forefront. But in a completely trivial way. Like every other type of protest, the only thing people talk about is the protest itself, not the message being raised. There are a lot of things about the Iraq war that deserve to be treated with a certain level of seriousness (all the dead people for one.) But instead of talking about that we’ve now got newsrooms across the country racking their brains looking for shoe puns.

Fortunately this is a comedy site, where serious discussions are generally verboten, and blatant hypocriticism encouraged, so I’ll move back to the shoe/dick jokes now.

If I could offer a bit of friendly advice to the President - speaking as someone who has things thrown at him with great regularity - here’s a handy list of responses I’ve developed for many common things that may get hurled at you in the future. With the help of a specially modified batting practice machine, you’ll be able to hone your clearly already sharp reflexes further, which should be of some help in your future career, whatever it is you wind up fucking up next.

Objects thrown at you: Pillows
Example: You’ve just been asked to perform a minor chore by your spouse/boyfriend/girlfriend/long term same-gendered “roommate.” You playfully respond “…” They throw a pillow at you, and repeat their request, punctuating it with an impolite suggestion.
Response: Let it bounce off you harmlessly. Throwing something back would seem to be the logical response, but this is a path that quickly leads to broken lamps, televisions, granite counter tops and relationships.

Objects thrown at you: Produce
Example: You’re at the supermarket picking up a tray of vegetables and dip to bring to a social function. While in the produce aisle, one of your past spouses/boyfriends/girlfriends/long term same-gendered “roommates” hurls one or more pieces of fruit or veg at you, accusing you of stealing their DVD player.
Response: Simple one. Duck. Who looks crazier, the one throwing fruit, or the one who stole a DVD player and peed in the dishwasher during the later stages of a shattered relationship? The one who did it in front of witnesses. Leave in peace and let the cops handle Ol’ Stinky Dishes.

Objects thrown at you: Dirty Looks
Example: At a social function of some sort, you’ve just pointed out to some new parents that they have an ugly baby. Now they’re throwing dirty looks at you like you hit the damned thing.
Response: Dirty Looks can’t hurt you physically, so there’s no need to deploy any avoidance maneuvers/chafe/flares in this circumstance. The only thing dirty looks can do is make you doubt yourself, so I suggest you ignore them. In this example, I’d ignore the dirty looks and blaze onwards, suggesting to the father of the aforementioned child that there’s no way he’s ugly enough to be the father of this abomination.

Objects thrown at you: Gang Signs
Example: Someone has taken slight at one of your patented hard hitting observations. You respond by forming a ‘W’ with your hands, while adding “Wu Taaaaaang!” in a high pitched voice. They respond by widening their eyes suddenly, rolling up their sleeves to reveal a plethora of crudely etched tattoos, and throwing a gang sign of their own. As someone who has made up several gang signs on the spot in your time, you recognize it immediately as one that was not made up on the spot. As if conjured by some dark magic, firearms appear in the hands of several other people nearby.
Response: Cry as hard as you possibly can. You have pissed off the wrong people, again. Your only hope now is to diffuse their anger by replacing it with disgust. Don’t expect sympathy - you won’t get it. But being smacked around like a fat blubbering baby for three hours until they get bored and leave you in a puddle of your own fluids is better than being shot I would imagine. I note with no small amount of pride that I’ve never been shot.

I’m sure you’ve heard about this BULLSHIT, where the SUPREME COURT of all people have turned their backs on the TRUTH and decided to let some guy with a name that DOESN’T SOUND VERY AMERICAN TO ME be President.

Well I’d like to see this so called “Supreme Court” stop me and my caps lock key from exposing the truth. Using the pages on the Internet that Google Doesn’t Want You To Know About I’ve uncovered the shocking truth about Obama’s secret life! Read on, but be warned that the revelations are so outrageous, that your head’s ass might just crap its pants!

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April 4th, 1960: Barack Hussein Obama is born in a secret Masonic chapel beneath the streets of Paris. With genetic material scraped from the shroud of Turin and eggs stolen from an unconscious Marilyn Monroe, Obama is carried to term in the womb of a mysterious three headed dog, ancient beyond man’s ken. For the first few months of his life he is raised by a shadowy cabal of ancient knights and professional baccart players, who program him with the knowledge he will need to one day destroy America.

Summer 1961: An infant Obama is secretly taken to Hawaii on a submarine powered by free energy.

August 4th, 1961: Barack Obama is “born” in Hawaii.

November 22nd, 1963: Barely three years old, Obama is devastated to hear that his close friend John F Kennedy has been killed. Obama vows to dedicate his life to fighting criminals in their own element, and begins years of audacious martial arts training.

November 9th, 1966: Barack Obama is killed in a car crash while being driven home from day care by his caretaker, Paul McCartney. The tragedy leaves McCartney inconsolable and unable to play music. His bandmates are reluctantly forced to replace him.

November 12th, 1966: Barack Obama is cloned. To make the transition seamless, his fragile new body is accelerated back to the age of six inside of a horrific growth vat powered by children’s belief in Santa Claus.

July 20th, 1969: A young Barack Obama wins a Masonic Science Fair project by faking the first landing on the moon using a simple reaction between baking soda and two mice with buzzcuts.

September 1983: As part of his spiritual training, and to please his cruel lord Crom, Obama buries thousands of Atari ET cartridges in the desert.

October 4th, 1985: His training complete, a costumed Barack Obama apprehends his first criminal, television anchorman Dan Rather, who had been terrorizing the city, committing wanton acts of having a liberal media bias. Obama’s crime fighting catchphrase “Kenneth! Check these frequent punches! -punch-” is misheard by Rather and then later ruined further by R.E.M. Obama is so disheartened by this that he stops fighting crime, and turns towards politics.

September 13th, 1996: There’s one too many Obamas! It turns out the first Obama didn’t die during that car crash, and was secreted away by the original Paul McCartney. Together the two had spent the past thirty years living together in a wooden cabin in Idaho, Paul teaching his ward everything he knew about the art of songcraft. In the early nineties the original Obama left his life of seclusion, and begun a meteoric rise up the popular music charts. Upon finding out of this shocking development on the eve of his election to the Illinois Senate, the replacement Obama orchestrates the murder of the original, who is now going by the name Tupac Shakur.

February 12th, 1998: While Googling himself, Obama accidentally misspells his name, comes across the contact details for Osama Bin Laden, and e-mails him on a lark. Amused by the story, Bin Laden agrees to exchange ICQ #’s with the state senator, and the two begin a life long friendship.

September 11th, 2001: Working with his close friend Osama, Obama orchestrates the 9-11 strikes on New York, in a desperate attempt to finish Dan Rather off.

Late 2003: With a Senate seat and potential presidential bid in his future, Obama is forced to curry favor with powerful oil executives. Over the course of the next several months, he sneaks around Southern California under the cover of night, murdering electric cars.

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You and me together can spread the truth dear reader. If you show this article to two friends, who each show it two friends, who each show it to two friends, and then the fifteen of you form a softball team, and you call your team “The Truth” - well… Let’s just say I’d like to see the media ignore that! Please sign the comments below if you are willing to participate, but do not have two friends.

Bad news for the economy yesterday, which was a surprising change of pace from all the awful news we’ve been getting lately. The National Bureau of Economic Research (they’re awesome guys) announced that yes Virgina, there really is a recession. Although no-one anywhere admits to being surprised by this news, Wall Street collectively was surprised and proceeded to lose their shit, sending the Dow down 680 points.

If you’re the average Cracked reader (re: Ziploc-bag-fetishist/occasional Sears catalog model) none of those above words will make a lick of sense to you. Seeing as I’m Cracked.com’s official Overseas/Heroes/Olympics/Financial Canadian Correspondent, and also because I’ve recently been instructed to write articles that are really unpopular, I’m here to shed some light on these confusing time.

Ok, first what’s a recession?

Much like breasts, economies can never be too large, which is why it’s important that they’re always slowly growing, and one of a few reasons why we’re so disappointed that breasts don’t. A recession then is simply a period when an economy stops growing and instead shrinks. Recessions are generally accompanied by rising unemployment, books by John Steinbeck, and a general lack of Good Times.
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So should I rush out and buy a big screen television then to save the economy?

Unless that television is 400 billion dollars, I’d suggest you keep your powder dry, tiger. This is a bigger problem than you. That said it’s not a horrible idea, and gets right to the heart of the matter: American’s are good at consuming things. In fact, it’s probably the one thing you do better than anyone else in the world.* Something like 70% of the American economy is simply you guys buying stuff from each other, or increasingly often, the Chinese. When you stop buying things, the economy slows down, and indeed that’s exactly what’s happening now.

*Your donuts are excellent as well, I’ll add.

Here’s the rub though: What if you need that money to eat? You’ll feel like a real ass if you go drop eight hundred bones at The Sharper Image only to lose your job in the spring. It will feel like a noose tightening around your neck every morning as you brush your teeth with your talking astrolabe toothbrush. So unless you’re really sure your job is safe, it might be wisest to just sock that money away in whatever you traditionally sock things away in (bank account, coffee can, sock.)
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So is there any way out of this?

Not an easy way, no. The traditional way to get out of a recession involves the government spending a shit-ton of money on things, preferably big, expensive, durable things. Something that will take a lot of people to build and be useful in the future. Bridges for example, as opposed to hand-jobs. Not to say that 10 billion hand jobs might not take the edge off for everyone over the next few months, but there wouldn’t be much to show for it in the end, aside from a country full of cramped wrists and awkward silences.
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Where would the government get that money?

Search me. Where did you get the money to invade Iraq?

A less glib answer is the government runs a deficit for awhile, spending more money than it takes in from taxes, and covering the difference by borrowing money from somewhere. The idea being that it will pay the money back in better times - a theory that is right up there with “girls will like you if you just be yourself” in terms of feasibility.

Still, the worst thing that can happen by running up a national debt is that it will place a burden on future generations - your children and children’s children etc… That’s certainly a concern, but the prevailing wisdom has recently taken a turn towards “yeah, well what have those little shits done for us lately?”

If you’re curious, it’s quirky little “fuck the children” moments like this that make the American economy so amusing.
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Where does the government borrow the money from?

From anyone who will give it to them. Even you, Mr. Money bags. The main way they do this is by issuing Treasury Securities, which you can think of as imaginary pieces of paper which say “I.O.U., Uncle Sam. P.S. thanks buddy.” Like I said, you can buy these yourself if you want, and many individual investors do. Realistically though, most are sold to funds and banks and governments - people with a lot more money than you and (arguably) more sense.
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What’s a Depression then? Are we going to go in to one of those? Will there be soup lines? Will the soup be tasty?

“Depression” is a pretty nebulously defined word, and essentially means “really bad recession,” or “oh shit.” No-one’s suggesting the US is in one of those yet, and few are saying it’s possible. So I don’t really know. If you find yourself eating more soup than normal or seriously considering jobs involving the picking of fruit, then go ahead and call it a Depression. I won’t stop you.
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What about the car companies? Is this why they’re struggling?

That’s right. Ford, GM and Chrysler are all on the verge of bankruptcy and are maybe only a couple months away from going tits up. A prospect which could potentially cost three million people their jobs, once you consider all of the companies that supply them with parts, who would also suffer. No-one wants three million people to lose their jobs (unless they’re dicks) so a bailout for the auto makers has been discussed with some seriousness over the last few weeks by men with shirts and offices.

Using government money to prop up an existing company with existing jobs is generally a better idea than spending it on bridges or handjobs as above, but there’s a particular snag with the automakers: they’re just horribly, horribly run companies. A full detailing of their woes would go a bit beyond the scope of a Cracked article (If you hadn’t noticed, I’m already stretching my Cracked writer’s mandate here just a whisker.) Suffice to say they have huge structural problems and there’s no guarantee that within the next year they wouldn’t fall apart like a dildo made of shredded newspaper anyways.
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You don’t have a lot of answers. Is there anything you do recommend?

I’ve been told that I heartily recommend any one of the fine products and services our advertisers are offering just above and to the right of this article. Also, I would like to add for the benefit of any search engines that happen to be strolling by, “tina fey nude” fellas. Come get some.

So awhile back I wrote about how the military was taking inspiration from dinosaurs and psychotropic drugs (probably) when designing the next generation of military vehicles. I managed to sneak in a good joke about Voltron before the whole thing degenerated into the sort of shoddy list-based nonsense that passes for comedy around here. Seriously, some days we’re just running around playing grab-ass here.

Shortly after the article went live it occurred to me that I had omitted to mention the absolute pinnacle of military vehicle insanity: The GI Joe universe. And so, as we wrap up the 7th and most boring year yet of the War on Terror, I’d like to take you back to a world where wars were cooler, and way stupider…

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The 20 Stupidest GI Joe Vehicles Ever
All photos courtesy of yojoe.com

#20.

You’re going to see this a lot in the next couple minutes: a whole bunch of guys hanging off the back of nearly every god damned vehicle. I don’t know why – nowhere in the Joe canon does it specify why they’ve taken their design cues from a Central American public transit system.

#19.

Famously no-one ever actually gets shot in the GI Joe universe, which is why they have such curious ideas about how to armor vehicles. We’re approaching Pope-Mobile territory with all this glass.

#18.

A multi-cultural group of friends are out for an adventure and learn what matters more: the size of your tank, or the size of your heart.

#17.

The Buzz Boar is easily the most devastating weapon in the COBRA arsenal, if viewed from the perspective of a weary parks groundskeeper.

#16.

The D.E.M.O.N. can raise itself vertically on extendable legs, and is thought to be the only tank in the world capable of launching the deadly Teabag ordinance.

#15.

Here the “dudes hanging off the side” motif has gone a smidge too far. If that boat is symmetrical, I have no idea what that poor scuba diver is standing on. A seal? It’s a mystery.

#14.

The Fang is possibly the most fragile air vehicle in history, and during the COBRA Wars of the 1980’s, American forces shot down 14,982 of them, injuring close to a dozen pilots.

#13.

Equal parts dangerous and hilarious; I particularly like the alternate spelling of “trouble.”

#12.

This one hits pretty much all the GI Joe vehicle high spots: Huge glass cockpits, a scarily exposed turret, and the ability to launch smaller, more comical vehicles. The only thing missing from this is about 12 dudes hanging off of it, but for all I know, they could be on the other side.

#11.

A classic of COBRA military design, the elevated treads serve no purpose other than to make it look cooler, but they certainly succeed at that.

#10.

I have no idea what that one guy at the bottom is shooting at, although knowing COBRA, we can be pretty sure he ain’t hitting it.

#9.

Imagine showing up for war one day, and they tell you to get in this thing. The helmet this guy is wearing is going to serve about the same purpose as aluminum foil on a baked potato.

#8.

Unless those rotors are mobius strips, I think this helicopter has a bit of a design problem. Who designed this thing? M.C. Escher? Also note this vehicle appears to fire manned missiles from each pontoon. I’m guessing you have to get caught porking the Cobra Mayor’s daughter to get assigned that job.

#7.

In the GI Joe universe, where every vehicle has about 30 guns each, with most of them pretty sinister looking, pride of place still goes to this, a 10 foot long penis gun that spits fire.

#6.

I’ve been thinking. You know what the big problem is with these detachable units is? Fuel. How long is that little guy going to be able to fly around, shooting at Joes and missing? And how on earth is it going to get back to base, or do they expect it to reattach to the mothership after the inevitable rout? Would that look like two planes humping? Would it be hot?

#5.

Oh for crying out loud. This is going to get someone killed.

#4.

In the real world, the A-10 Warthog is one badass looking plane. Here Cobra’s attempted to make it better by adding what I’m going to go ahead and describe as “a gay little turret.” When you consider that every other gun in the GI Joe universe is the size of a golf bag, whatever they have mounted in that turret looks like what you’d give to an elderly woman recovering from surgery, if things had gotten desperate and you really needed her out on the front lines.

#3.

Another strong contender in our “more dangerous to the pilot” category. This makes me wonder if anyone at Hasbro understands any properties of rocket exhaust other than “orange.”

#2.

The only plane in the world with “junk in the trunk,” this plane was evidently designed by a panel of popular rap artists.

#1.

In the 1980’s the Triple ‘T’ was our foremost Sergeant Slaughter delivery vehicle, who if you don’t recall, used to be America’s foremost suplex delivery vehicle.

If you’re like most Cracked readers, you have a deep and fierce loathing of everyone around you, and constantly simmer in a stew of sweat and rage at your inability to shape the world to your will. Well good news friend! I’m here to help! For some reason!

Let me lay down the facts: you almost certainly lack the social graces and knowledge of current hairstyle trends to win the loyalty of an army of human supporters. Therefore, I’ve compiled a list of proven techniques you can use to assemble a literally unstoppable force of nature: an army of animals sworn to your service.

First, what’s your aim?

World domination:
You’re going to want to train animals that fit into one of the following broad categories, and preferably both: Animals that can fuck things up, and/or animals that inspire awe and trepidation.

The first category is pretty self explanatory, as you’ll naturally be expecting your army to do a fair bit of eviscerating on your way to toppling intransigent governing bodies. Animals that fit into this category are obvious: Wolves, Tigers, Sharks, or the name of pretty much every other high school football team.

The second category is where things get interesting. As military genius (and incredible pussy) Sun Tzu said, the most effective engagement is the one not fought. If you can scare your opponent into submission before the battle is fought, your forces will be fresh to fight another day. The best animals in this category are thus the most impressive and exotic. Giraffes, elephants, panda bears, really large lizards, etc…

Combining the two categories will yield the best results - think giraffe with a rocket launcher and two tigers strapped to its back. And on a side note, although I’m not generally an advocate of training birds due to their rock-stupidness, if you have the time, the irony inherent in training a squadron of attack doves is pretty rich.

Commuting in style:
Commuting to work on the back of a single animal might be fine for cowboys and Europeans, but I think we can all agree Cracked readers are a more discerning sort. Here’s an example of a man, probably a successful banker of some sort, commuting to the office on the back of two tigers.

Screams “I demand respect!” Also, “RAAAAAWR!”

Other ideas in the same vein:

- Penguin drawn carriage.
- A basket tethered to hundreds of owls.
- Hamster shoes.*

*Until science breeds a stronger hamster (write your Congressman) you may have to make do with lying down very carefully on a group of about 80 trained hamsters and crowd surfing about. Still pretty cool.

Impressing women:
It’s a simple fact of life that women tend to be more attracted to successful men, and particularly men with power. And if your career at Orange Julius is leaving you feeling a little low in the “success” and “power” departments, why not give a boost to your sex life by acquiring an army of loyal animal minions? The solution is so obvious!

“Yes I would like to go to the park and watch a pack of dingos tear apart people of your choosing!”

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Tips on Procurement.
For exotics, a trip abroad is sadly your only real option. As a profession, zookeepers are surprisingly resistant to bribes and quick to cast judgment. Unless you possess greater charisma than I (you don’t), or deeper pockets (more likely) I don’t suggest you go down that route.

Common domestic animals are much easier, and the usual sources apply: the SPCA, classified ads or Craigslist. Be sure to pick your animals up one at a time though. People seem to get a little hesitant when you pull up in a van with thirty cats already inside of it, and will ask lots of questions about your “crazy, darting eyes.”

Tips on Training
First, I have to ask: do you have a special connection with animals that allows you to communicate with them telepathically? Because that will make things a lot easier. A relative with access to advanced mind control technology will also serve.

Failing that, you’re going to need only one thing: A Lot of Food. It’s here where some basic cost-benefit analysis and return on investment calculations kick in. As you should be able to deduce, certain animals will be cheaper and easier to train in volume than others. Trying to train an army of jaguars will be all but impossible unless you’re the scion of a powerful meat product family. For most of you I’d suggest for your first army to pick a fairly cheap animal to train. Given their ridiculously low standards for what they’ll eat, dogs are probably the easiest choice for beginners. If you want something a little less conventional, try one of the larger rodents, like a porcupine or prairie dog. Once you’ve sacked the treasury of a small central American country or one of the Mid-Western states you can consider moving up to the more interesting animals.

As for the training process itself, it’s surprisingly simple: Show an animal how to do something. If they do it, feed them. If they don’t, yell at them. This may involve some repetition.

A word regarding the classic motivation balance of the carrot or the stick: beating an animal with a carrot is largely ineffective.

Other Tips:

Odor control: Animals have a much more developed sense of smell than humans do, and consequently have developed incredibly complicated systems for determining whom to mate with and where to pee*. Although you’ll be unable to detect most of these scents, you should have a basic understanding of how this works and it’s importance, if only to make you feel better about the stench that will haunt your every waking hour.

*German animals have been known to confuse these signals.

Scat: Training an army of animals to use flush toilets will be prohibitively time consuming for all but the most dedicated animal-army-having enthusiasts. So for most of us, this becomes more a problem of residuals management, with the industry standard approach being, “don’t stay in one place for very long.” I’d also add that it’s probably a good idea to wash your hands before doing basically anything.

Final Thoughts:

The road ahead of you is full of challenges and odors, and you’ll require dedication and persistence to make it to the end. Print this off, keep it in your wallet and refer to it every time you find yourself having doubts.

Of course that wasn’t the case, and in fact it happened exactly the other way around: the toys preceded the cartoon. He-Man, Gi Joe, the Transformers. Cultural touchstones for a generation. The equivalent would be if the moon landing was staged in an effort to sell Tang. The gaining of this knowledge, and the cynicism that came with it is probably the greatest tragedy of my adolescence, even more so than the 12 years of puberty.

Evidently this heroically shameless feat of advertising was pretty controversial at the time, and the grown-ups of the day expressed great concern that their children would grow up to be ravenous consumers of pop-culture garbage, which actually turned out to be pretty prescient. At the time, the producers of the cartoons threw a sop to these parents in the form of little morals or “life lessons” which could be delivered at the end of each cartoon. Which is how an entire generation learned the truth about “bad touching” from a man wearing furry underpants.

Turning lessons about not drinking poison and respecting your elders into something commercial is pretty horrible, and is probably why I’m so suspicious of old people to this day. Because this element of my childhood was so badly warped and mistreated, and on the advice of my psychologist as a way to bring closure to this whole sordid situation, I’ve decided to take those cartoon life lessons, and turned them into something beautiful - internet comedy.

Life Lessons He-Man should have been teaching us all along.
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Today we saw what happened when Skeletor and his team of international terrorists attacked Teela’s Christmas party. Because he was unprepared, He-Man was forced to engage in a deadly game of cat and mouse 40 stories in the air. And the whole time he has to fight without his most important weapon: his shoes. If someone as strong as He-Man needs shoes to protect his feet from Germans and shattered glass, then they must be pretty important. Remember to wear your shoes at all times, and never hand a stranger a gun unless you’ve previously unloaded it.

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You just saw what happened when Man-at-Arms was cornered in a prison bathroom by a group of sodomites. Even though he was hopelessly outnumbered, he fought back as hard as he could, even if it only made his attackers angrier and their eventual ministrations all the more vicious. Man-at-Arms did that because he knows that to passively give in to a prison-rape is to die a little on the inside.

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In today’s story we saw Flalin realize that his 15 year marriage to Orelia was an empty sham, and that however much he might have cared for her in the past, she was now a terrible burden weighing him down. It can be hard to give up on a relationship that long, especially when you have such young children, but it’s important to realize that you have a lot to offer to the world, and that if you don’t look out for your best interests, no-one will.

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Adam sure was mad today when he turned on the radio and heard the latest popular song, where over a pulsing, syncopated backbeat Skeletor boasted of an incident where he had made love to Adam’s sister before ejaculating in her hair. It’s important to remember that when confronted by a dis track to keep your temper. Getting back at someone by releasing your own dis track or even by cutting off their Escalade and firing several rounds into it like Adam did today, will only make things worse.

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Orko sure thought it was his lucky day today, didn’t he? Meeting a beautiful woman like Stephie doesn’t happen to guys like him very often, much less a woman who wants to get physical so quickly. But one way that Orko wasn’t very lucky was when he got Chlamydia. Becoming involved with a loose woman often feels like a good idea, but depending on the lighting things aren’t always what they seem. If you ever have any doubts about a woman you’ve just met, ask a friend for their advice - or even their help.

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When Man-at-Arms snuck up and draped his testicles on Ram Man’s forehead while he was sleeping, that was a pretty funny thing. Everyone laughed and laughed and laughed. They were falling down they were laughing so hard. But what wasn’t so funny was later when Ram Man was alone in the bathroom, crying and punching the mirror. When he was growing up Ram Man’s father told him he’d kill Ram Man if he grew up to be a homo, and now Ram Man didn’t know what to think about anything. That’s why it’s important to be aware of your friends childhood psychoses before teabagging them.

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Orko learned a valuable lesson today when he was caught masturbating on the train. Even though the memories of a certain chesty ticket agent haunted his mind and loins, and even though there was no-one sitting in the same row as him, Orko still should have known better. Because even if the Sorceress didn’t have powerful bird senses that could acutely hear those distinctive and repetitive noises, he surely would have been caught by anyone glancing up at the enormous reflection of him in the train’s skylights.

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In today’s story, Man-E-Faces got placed in a tricky situation when he found out his daughter was dating a Samoan drug dealer. By forbidding that she see the fellow any further he actually pushed her further away from him, and then got his house shot up a bit as well. He-Man came to the rescue today, but he might not be able to help if the same happens to you. Remember that most problems like this can be solved by simply discussing your concerns calmly and openly, or by staging a shooting to look like it was done by a rival gang.

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In today’s story we saw young Trevor have to make a decision we all hope we’ll never have to make for ourselves: turning your parents in for sedition. Trevor had been taught that it was important to obey your mother and father. But Trevor also loved his country very much, and in the end he knew he did the right thing. If you’re concerned about your parents and the newsletter they’re constantly working on, or the men with heavy facial hair who come and go at all hours of the night, or the stockpile of long guns growing in the basement, then know that you have the strength to do the right thing too.

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One of the hardest things everyone must do while growing up is putting down the family dog because it’s gone rabid. It’s easy to want to run away from this responsibility, as we saw Orko do today. But it’s important to find the courage within yourself to face up to your responsiblity, and take out the trigger slack on what once was your best friend, as it will give you the strength of character to one day later in life be cold and distant towards women. And that’s the greatest power of all.

Like sending a fat, unloved child off to summer camp, today we wave goodbye to the 2008 campaign season, the tears conspicuous by their absence in our eyes. And judging by the tone of some of the comments we’ve been getting around here (”Fuck you guys!”) it’s not a moment too soon. America and the world are pretty much politiced-out.

We did have some fun though, didn’t we? From the insane amount of Ron Paul insanity on Digg, to the carefree misogyny of the Democratic primaries, to our own Dan O’Brien’s quixotic attempts to fingerbang a certain Vice Presidential nominee, there were a lot of good memories this past year, intermixed amongst the thousands of tedious, unpleasant memories. Reflecting my sentimental and hopelessly romantic nature, this whole time I’ve been keeping a scrapbook of these fun times. I present to you below a small sample.

*I should also note here that although they have shared roots, the UK Scouting Association is most definitely separate from the Boy Scouts of America, an organization so conservative that I think they’re now teaching that the Earth is only about 30 years old.

One of the motivating factors held up by Scout leaders for this decision is the large percentage of British teenagers who have an STD. Teenagers are already pretty gross, and having actually spent some time living in England, I can confirm that teenage boys there are probably the most appalling creatures in the world. That they’re also ridden with disease surprises me not in the slightest, and is almost enough to make me feel sorry for the teenage girls there, were they not the second most appalling creatures in the world.

I wonder too how effective this training will be. Unless things have changed recently, aren’t the Scouts the refuge of the squarest kids imaginable? Any young man more interested in knot-work or archery than teenage girls or driving around in shitty cars is probably not, as they say, “celebrated by a large quantity of his peers.” I don’t doubt that somewhere out there are attractive, charismatic young men who happen to enjoy the outdoors and the structure of proto-militaristic organizations. But they surely must be a rare breed, like the Yeti, or Count Chocula. The sort of teen likely to even be in the Scouts long enough to get a merit badge in deep dickin’ is probably the least likely to need it.

I don’t understand entirely how the British school system works, but aren’t they already teaching sex ed? Although it’s dangerous to assume that the whole world discovered boobies the same time I did, I can’t be the first observer to point out the incredible sexualization of the western world over the last twenty years. Sex is everywhere, and the kids know about it. So the odds of teaching a teenager anything new about sex must be pretty slim. Maybe the problem is that English teenagers already know all this, but are also really stupid? Just throwing it out there.

It is good to see the Scouts trying to modernize however. The original mandate of the Scouts was to aid in the development of youths mental and physical abilities to help craft them into useful members of society. A hundred years ago, when mankind was only just barely out of the caves, this mainly meant being able to build campfires, make wooden cars, and tie ropes of differing girths together. But as civilization developed canned meats and celebrity game shows, much of the original skills provided by the Scouts have been rendered useless. Seeing as they’re evidently updating the curriculum, here’s a few more suggestions for programs the Scouts could teach the hoodlums of today to be more productive members of society, or at the very least, more spectacular flameouts.

How to clean spyware off your parents computer.

How to deal with a crazy person on the bus.

How to build your own PVR.

How to buy clothes that fit.

How to tell people you’re in the Scouts without getting beaten up.

How to play Counterstrike for 16 straight hours without using the toilet.

How to stop liking such terrible music.

How to get pay pornography for free.

How to tell which guy in a club will sell you drugs.

How to know when a girl is lying about her age.

How to drink 12 alcopops then harass a Bangladeshi shop owner.

How to hotwire a 1992 Renault Clio.

How to turn a newspaper into an effective weapon.

How to avoid being tried in adult court.

How to grow the fuck up.