Monkey & Dog Doing Situps

I stumbled across this clip on YouTube after halfheartedly watching The Moment of Truth on FOX. Have you guys seen that one? It’s that lie detector show where people answer increasingly horrible questions and ruin their lives for the chance to win FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS. Why can’t we take a hint from Japan and start airing good old-fashioned entertainment again? You know - like a show where a dog helps a monkey do sit-ups. If they put that on FOX I would watch it dutifully every single week. They could call it Animal Magnetism… only that kind of makes it sound like they would be having sex with each other, which is a totally different kind of TV show. How about Spot Me!? If they named the dog Spot that one would be a double whammy.

I could see a monkey doing sit-ups with a bulldog holding his legs down on American TV, but to flip it around and have the BULLDOG (not) doing the sit-ups? That’s so insane it could only come from the brilliant mind of a Japanese television writer. I’d make some sort of bold statement like “Japanese television writers must all smoke crack!” but I have a feeling that most of them probably come from respectable families and come up with their ideas in drug-free workplaces, so scratch that one.

Which just got me thinking… I know this clip is from Japan, but do you think when Chinese people have a really late business meeting and their bosses say “I need you all to stick around,” do you think they say “Can we order American?” Food for thought.

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One of the many onerous burdens placed upon the Cracked blogger is that of wading through countless vapid, hastily-written web articles dissecting the minutiae of celebrities’ lives to the point that one wonders if there wouldn’t be profit in the attainment and sale of Lindsay Lohan’s solid waste.

But of all the terrible places on the web dedicated to destroying the lives of our former idols for the sheer lulz of it, I’ve gotta hand it to the reporters at TMZ.com: at least they try to dress up their dreck by pretending they’re fast-talkin’ journalists from the forties. Aside from my daily ether rag, it’s the only thing that makes my job bearable.

Take this article about Britney Spears’ latest run-in with the law (something involving an industrial combine and that nice man with the big eyebrows from The OC, I believe).

In three paragraphs, the reporter manages to insert the phrases “will the judge be buyin’ what he’s sellin’,” “all things Britney,” “the whole magilla,” “take a hike,” and my personal favorite “smells like it.”

In light of this, I have a personal request for the reporters over at TMZ: as someone who relies on your “news” on a daily basis, it would really mean a lot to me if you’d go even further in dressing up these stories. Reporting on Britney as Jennifer Leigh in The Hudsucker Proxy is a good start, but the possibilities are truly endless.

Here, I’ll toss out some sample sentences from possible future TMZ stories, and I think you’ll get a better idea of what I’m talking about.

I was taking a belt of mystery liquor from my hip flask when another kind of poison, the dame kind, strolled into my office like a runaway freight train. It was Amy Winehouse, and she was higher than a kite on Sunday.

James Gandolfini enters from stage left, exasperated. Paparazzo 1 enters right and crosses down, oppressively friendly. A brief scuffle. Exuent.

Clemens could break down and cry
For wanting his trainer to lie
But McNamee claims
“When I couldn’t find veins,
I injected it straight in his eye.”

Paris Hilton. Stop. Showed vagina. Stop. Link. Stop.

Dearest friend,
I write to inform you of a most unusual happening that occurred whilst I was away in the country under doctors’ orders (they feel the dry climate will do wonders for my rubella). From what I’ve gathered during my evening jaunts to the local tavern, and, I must admit, by purchasing rounds of ale for the stablemen and smith’s apprentices who frequent it, Tom Sizemore was raped in prison.

I expect all future TMZ articles to be written in a format at least as colorful as those above. Please see that this is done.

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When not blogging for Cracked, Michael makes period videos as head writer and co-founder of Those Aren’t Muskets!

Caveat Emptor used to mean that if those rancid meat pies you bought at the equinox fair gave you dysentery and you died, it was your own damned fault for being a peasant during the Middle Ages. And it’s good to know corporations like Microsoft and Blue Cross Insurance are keeping that sentiment alive.

“Windows Vista capable PCs are junk.”

“I now have a $2,100 e-mail machine.”

“Even a piece of junk will qualify.”

Reasonable assessments of the bait-and-switch scheme Microsoft developed to boost their holiday sales: putting a “Windows Vista capable” sticker on low-end PCs and selling them to hapless technophobes.

The mildly surprising part is, those quotes aren’t from reviewers, but from top Microsoft executives discussing their shitty computers (many of which could only run very limited versions of Vista anyway) via internal emails.

This is an OS so crappy, “Windows Vista capable” has taken on an insulting quality, like telling someone they’re capable of wandering around with their pants around their ankles muttering to themselves and falling into piles of boxes. And some of these machines could barely do that.

The only thing that makes me not want to bring vigilante street justice down upon their heads is the fact that while they were wringing their hands and admitting “we really botched this,” Blue Cross was trying their damnedest to take coverage away from anyone who might need it at the moment and feeling no remorse whatsoever.

Blue Cross, it seems, has for years made it routine policy to send out letters to doctors with copies of a new patient’s application and the instruction to report “any condition not listed on the report that turns out to be pre-existing.” Which doesn’t sound quite as seedy as the literal translation “so hey, how can we fuck this guy?”

Because of course the reporting of even the most minor unreported condition (an unreported pregnancy qualifies, even if the patient wasn’t aware they were pregnant at the time they filled out the form) gave Blue Cross the legal grounds to wait until the person got deathly ill and then deny their coverage requests.

And getting doctors to rat on patients is a hell of a lot cheaper than taking the time to verify information, that’s for damn sure. Which is basically their defense, that they were “trying to keep costs at a minimum.” Which is like a guy who runs a drugstore replacing all the pills with tic-tacs to save on overhead.

Caveat Emptor!

The only thing that cheers me up is the fact that I now know the name of the president of the California Medical Association, and it’s Dick Frankenstein.

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When not blogging for Cracked, Michael makes consumer awareness videos as head writer and co-founder of Those Aren’t Muskets!

Pop quiz, hot shot: Cite something from the Jyllands-Posten newspaper. If you can, chances are you’re either Danish (in which case I’ll have cheese) or you cited that time they ran a cartoon depicting what Muhammed (PB&J) looked like. I don’t remember all the details, but I think Jesus pulled the football away at the last second.

Two years later, and the rascals are at it again. And I mean literally; they’re doing the exact same thing. The paper, along with other Danish papers, are reprinting the cartoons in response to the arrest of three men who plotted to kill the cartoonist. This, they claim, shows their “firm commitment to free speech.”

Which it does, in the same way I’m showing my commitment to free speech when I reply to my fiancee’s requests to stop swerving the car in time to Jamiroquai’s “Virtual Insanity” by saying “you mean like THIS?” and pulling mightily to the right.

Come off it, Jyllands-Posten! I’m not a fan of terrorism or censorship, but there are probably plenty of perfectly nice Muslims out there who are genuinely offended by the cartoons. Do you have to go out of your way to show them that yes, indeed, you are allowed to desecrate their religion? And this from a guy who finds the below picture hilarious:

My point is, if you want to seem relevant, there are better ways to go about it than trotting out your greatest hits. Do something fresh and original to offend Muslims, like a deal where you get a free subscription if you renounce Allah. At least that way you seem more like Howard Stern trying to piss everyone off and less like Jim O’Connor from The Glass Menagerie reliving a fourth quarter forward pass.

Hell, if Jyllands-Posten is allowed to dust off their oldies, why shouldn’t other no-longer-relevant folks do the same? I look forward to Janet Jackson revealing her other boob, Jamie Lynn getting double pregnant, and Gladstone re-posting that thing where he shows pictures of murdered children and just laughs and laughs.

In fact, fuck it. HEY, ANYONE HEAR ABOUT THIS NEW ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT MOVIE? COMMENT PLZ!

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When not blogging for Cracked, Michael makes controversial videos depicting Muhammed as head writer and co-founder of Those Aren’t Muskets!

60 Minutes - Magic Mormon Underpants

60 Minutes is generally regarded as one of the most successful shows in the history of television. Reporting on major world events since the heady days of Vietnam and Watergate, the show has won numerous awards for groundbreaking journalism over the years. In 1983, they even managed to free a Texan named Lenell Geter who was wrongly convicted of armed robbery. It’s more than a television show; it’s an American institution.

YAAAAAWN! BORRRRR-ING!

Thank God they left that all behind at some point and decided to focus on something that matters: dumbing down their program in the pursuit of ratings. From the perspective of a Cracked blogger, this was a real blessing. You know what’s not really all that hilarious? The Vietnam War, Watergate and wrongful incarceration¹. You know what IS hilarious? The phrase “sacred undergarments.” Say what you will about credibility, dignity and journalistic integrity, but can any of those things really hold a candle to hearing a grown man say “sacred undergarments” repeatedly in a would-be serious tone?

Ordinarily this is the part where I’d go off about how Mormons are stupid and sacred undergarments are ridiculous, but as someone who gets into horrific boating accidents on a nearly constant basis, I’d really like to get my hands on a pair of those suckers. I can think of worse things than getting the occasional compliment in the locker room, too. I honestly can’t remember the last time someone turned to me and said, “Hey, Ross - neat undergarments!” That makes me sad.

Maybe those Mormons are on to something. They sure seem to smile a lot, don’t they?

¹ Despite being on the air for 40 years, for the sake of this blog post those are the only three things that 60 Minutes has ever reported on.

Hollywood is breathing a collective sigh of relief this week as it appears the long, bitter WGA strike may be coming to an end. On Saturday, officials outlined the proposed agreement to a packed house of guild members and notable celebrities showing support for the writers’ cause.

And while the address (below) was meant to celebrate a triumph, it also provided a prime example of how tremendously the written word in Hollywood has suffered without its usual writers.

Welcome back, writers! Here’s to getting screwed slightly less!

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When not blogging for Cracked, Michael makes public address videos as head writer and co-founder of Those Aren’t Muskets!

I first saw Arrested Development when I was a Freshman in college (ah, so long ago it was), and I was surrounded by six suitemates who failed to recognize its excellence. Instead, they’d wander through the common room having loud conversations while I watched, eyes aglow with epiphany. Then they’d all get together to watch Smallville every week and I’d wonder what the fuck.

As a failing comedy writer, the show was a lot of things for me: a revelation about the state of the modern sitcom, an education about how to do high farce and do it well, and an assurance that the bastards don’t appreciate genius anymore anyway. Also, it had a lot of gay jokes and David Cross in tiny shorts.

So the fact that an Arrested Development movie is seeming more and more likely is nothing short of bitchin’. And while part of me slathers for a return of the series (maybe if I get everyone I know to see the movie a dozen times, they’ll bring it back!), most of me is just grateful there’s going to be more illusions, more awkward quasi-incest, more shallow, self-centered in-fighting and spontaneous acts of ill-fated generosity, and of course, more lessons.

That’s all. No jokes exactly, just overwhelming enthusiasm and joy at this development. I think I may dance naked in a field later, which could be kind of funny if you didn’t know how many psychotropic drugs I was on.

But I am curious: is there anyone out there in Cracked-land who hates this show? I mean absolutely hates it. Not just to single you out for ridicule (although that seems inevitable, you dunderheaded half-wit), but because the fact that this show got cancelled really is surprising to me. What about it turned off a large majority of viewers? Or was it just on at the wrong time, what? Do you hate laughter? If so, may I direct you to the posts of my fellow bloggers?

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When not blogging for Cracked, Michael makes videos that aren’t as good as Arrested Development as head writer and co-founder of Those Aren’t Muskets!

Have you ever wanted to live in a cyberpunk movie? Well, now you can, save the bullet time and endless stream of European techno throbbing in the background. Just join rogue hacker groups like “Anonymous” and take up the fight against Scientology.

Then you too can release rad “underground” scare videos like this one:

I got chills. Of course, I get chills whenever I hear a digitized voice. Remember when Cher’s “Life After Love” was on the radio like every other song? Not a comfortable time for me.

Anonymous really sells the hacker image, complete with a threatening coda and blatant disregard for public safety. The only bit I really find hard to buy is the “we do not forget.” I mean, most programmer kids I know forgot about everything they were doing the second Portal came out.

And for all the appearance of being a massive, organized, Internet force, the comments at the end of this interview make it clear to me that Anonymous is more of a group in the spiritual sense. You join by saying you’ve joined, and then you just kind of do what you do in the name of the group. Like me: I collect and paint turn-of-the-century wooden train figurines. AND I DO NOT FORGIVE.

But, hey, let’s hope they get some people off of Cruise Control. It’s an admirable aim; I just don’t think I’d be too eager to quit my religion because this guy asked me to:

They’re kind words, but I’m kind of afraid the whole time that he’s going to lift up that visor and just be a skull. Again, it’s almost certainly the creepy music, which seems to be a recurring motif in anti-scientology work. The best example I could find is this thing about all the people Scientology has killed, which I could take a lot more seriously if it didn’t use the “Requiem for a Dream” song. When you have to push your beliefs with such obvious fear tactics as reminding me of the movie that ruined my taste for ass-to-ass, my conspiracy antennae tend to extend.

Which isn’t to say Scientologists aren’t still nuts:

It’s definitely going to be an interesting struggle to follow, at least until all the Anonymous members are distracted by a new LOLcat on 4Chan (this one has three cats, a computer, and corms!).

Now let’s hope some guys from Anonymous find this post, decide it insults them, and light up the comments section. Then maybe Cracked will give me a raise and I can afford a can of hairspray and a lighter to combat the nest of bats in my office.

I know. They spring for an office, but they leave the bats. It’s crazy.

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When not blogging for Cracked, Michael makes underground cyberpunk videos as head writer and co-founder of Those Aren’t Muskets!

Awesome Video Of The Day

The Coolest Kid In Melbourne

Remember that party you threw back in high school when your parents were out of town? That was pretty crazy, wasn’t it? Remember how your friend Todd’s older brother got you guys a bottle of Southern Comfort and a couple of 40s of Mickey’s with his fake ID? That was so awesome. And then remember when those three girls showed up with a six-pack of Zima, and then someone put sardines and ice cream in the blender together and dared your friend Tim to drink it, and then he threw up all over the living room carpet? You guys must’ve stayed up, what, until like 2 a.m.? Good times, man. Good times. That was fucking NUTS.

Well it might make a nice memory, anyway, but it turns out that your dinky little high school rager was totally lame - this kid is teaching the entire internet how to throw a proper high school kegger, and, more importantly, how to play it off like a total badass after you get caught. Between the open fur-lined sweatshirt, the nipple ring, the ridiculous sunglasses and the totally nonchalant attitude, I’d say this kid has a bright future ahead of him as a professional party promoter. That or an ecstasy burnout. Or both.

Doesn’t it kind of seem like the interviewer wants to laugh her ass off? She was probably there when it all went down, anyway. Australia is cool like that - the crappy TV reporters party with the high schoolers, the high schoolers throw rocks at the cops, and the cops fine the high schoolers’ parents $20,000. Toss in a few kangaroos and an AC/DC CD and you’ve got the Australian circle of life right there.

You know what? Fuck it - I’m moving to Melbourne.

I have enough guilt complexes to occasionally consider giving up meat, dumping a wad of cash on an electric car or stop burning piles of leaves and old tires in my yard. It’s called being a good person. Or at least considering it.

But I’ve got to say, for the most part, environmentalist groups piss me off just as much as any other extremist organization. Actually, they probably piss me off even more, if only because I generally agree with their precepts (”the Earth is cool”), so seeing them bend sane discourse over a barrel of hydroponically-grown wheat germ makes me feel like going out and punching a cow in the head on principle.

Yes, they stand for some good things, but no one can listen to the same yammered proselytizing equating chicken processing to the Holocaust for too long without it losing all impact other than to fill you with the urge to strangle whoever’s doing it just to stop the ceaseless, ceaseless noise. It’s the same reason the Christian kids in school who gave you long lectures on why you were going to Hell had no friends. And made you want to strangle them.

But you, the intelligent CRACKED reader, demand more than spewed bile; you demand evidence. Read on, and prepare to hate all those people who you’ve come to think of as better than you.

First off, remember that whale thing I blogged about a while ago? The Japanese agreed not to go Ahab on some Humpbacks, and we all breathed a collective sigh of relief then went back to our Jr. Bacon Cheeseburgers.

Well, Greenpeace wasn’t willing to drop the issue quite so easily, and have in fact been following the Japanese fishing boat around in their own boat, which we must assume is a giant floating pita pocket.

Subsisting on a diet of falafel and self-importance, these brave men and women have devotedly tracked down the Japanese, setting up webcams and continuously blogging about their nefarious plans to kill overly abundant whales.

That’s right; setting aside the Humpback issue, the Japanese are now planning to kill 935 Minke whales and 50 Finbacks, neither of which are endangered and which are in fact depleting fish stocks. Despite it all, Greenpeace members say they are willing to “get between harpoons and whales if necessary.”

The harpoons the Japanese use are tipped with explosives, so no matter what the ultimate outcome of this whole thing is, there’s a good chance it’s going to spawn some entertaining Youtube clips. Ross?

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