The One About Christmas pt. II
December 11, 2001

David’s commentary is in santa (or satan) red.

hi kids!

it’s still December and that means it’s still Christmastime and that means i still have to (yes, have to) rant about Christmas, as i promised i would. and if there’s one thing i won’t do it’s break a Christmas promise.  whatever.  

but before i delve into the Christmas, first a couple of important announcements.  

first, today is Kelly Bullock’s birthday! or so i’ve been told.  Happy Birthday, you old goat!  i know you may be wondering, “who is Kelly bullock? and why does that name sound so familiar?” well, maybe ’cause Kelly is the famous porn star from that popular christmas-porn, Cookies for Santa. (trust me, that was tame. i had much funnier ones, but they were just too racy.)  oh wait a sec, Kelly’s mom is on this list. (hi Mrs. N!)  nevermind the porn thing.  um, Kelly was Time’s Woman of the Year 1982! 
yay! happy birthday kells.  

second, tomorrow is my mom’s birthday! happy birthday mom!  mom’s don’t do porn.  but she is famous.  

third, my leetle brahther, justin, was chosen as MTSU’s greatest bass guitar player ever, and is now part of the jazz band or show band or whatever.  he’s more funky than bootsy. yes he is.  yes. he. is. however, it just goes to show ya, “once a band nerd always a band nerd”. sorry dude, i had to.  jimmy made me.  

now for the Christmas flava-ed weekly.  

well, i thought about making fun of Christmas carols. but there are so many of them.  and plus, when you start talking about Christmas songs you tend to get them caught in your head for decades and really, who needs that? so i’ve decided to take ten (9) of the most popular Christmas stories (i could think of) and “discuss” them.  

10.  well obviously, the Christmas story. the one from the Bible.  it’s the story of the baby Jesus.  go read it. now. Luke chapter 2. go!go!go! look, there’s no way i’m making fun of this one (well, except for the frankincense and myrrh thing from last week).  
i think i was in a Christmas program at church for like, 14 years in a row.  and i always had to be a reader.  ’cause i can read real good (ha).  i never got to be mary. ever.  i wanted to be mary ’cause she didn’t have a speaking part. ever.  but no.  i had to read. i mean, c’mon! you’d think out of 14+ years i’d get to be mary at least once!  oh well.  

I thought A Christmas Story was about a kid that wanted a Red Ryder B-B gun for Christmas?

9. A Christmas Carol. this is the Charles Dickens novel about mr. scrooge.  and mr. scrooge hates Christmas. and three ghosts visit him one night and scare him into liking Christmas. the ghosts put it to him like this, “you can either straighten up and like Christmas like you used to, or you can die and go to hell.” he chooses Christmas. it’s much, much longer than that, but that’s the gist of the story.  also there is a crippled boy named tiny tim.  he sings and plays the ukulele.  

Brook and I (and a bunch of our Christian Brothers pals) once took on A Christmas Carol. We did it as if Monte Python had produced it.  The story has some potential. All you’d need are some dead parots, budgies, and Mary Queen of Scots. People have just been doing it all wrong down through the years.

8. The Grinch Who Stole Christmas by Dr. Seuss. aka “the greatest story ever told”.  the best part about this story is you can watch it on TV and it’s narrated by Boris “frankincense” Karloff AND the whole thing rhymes!  it RHYMES.  plus it gave us such phrases as “roast beast” and “Who hash”.   

Whohash…one word. Dr. Suess rules!!!

7. Frosty the Snowman. well, first off, wacky premise!  a snowman that comes to life when he wears his magic hat!  fun!  and he sings songs! and when he first comes to life he yells, “happy birthday!” fun!  i dunno you guys, is it really fun?  is Frosty “all that”? doesn’t he have a girlfriend named Frieda or something? can anyone confirm that for me?  i can’t remember if he’s got a chick or not.  it’s not important, what is important is that i’m confused. 
i mean, Jack Frost is like the bad guy in the Frosty stories, right? but if Jack Frost goes away, spring is um, sprung and Frosty dies.  so i mean, is JF really so bad? he’s just tryin’ to represent, yo? word!  

I’d like to take after ol’Frosty with a blow torch. I never cared for the *#@! iceman.

6. look, not even at Christmastime is there a number 6. i don’t know why you bother looking.  

5.The Legend of Snegurochka. (werd, am i da bomb dot com or what?) this is a russian tale and um, it’s a lot like Frosty. only it’s better ’cause it’s foreign.  snegurochka is russian for snowmaiden, i guess. anyway, the story is about a couple who live in er, somewhere in the former soviet union and their names were ivan and maria and they had no kids.  and they were sad ’cause they could hear the neighbor kids laughing and playing in the snow and so they built a snow girl and then in a manic fit they call the snow girl to life. and she comes to life. and everyone is happy. until of course, spring.  the snowgirl melts and everyone is sad during summertime.  but lucky for russia, summertime only lasts for like, 5 hours and when winter time rolled back around, snegurochka came back and stayed with her winter family again.  and now every winter she comes back.  with a ton of dirty laundry. *sigh* kids.  

I’ll pass. I like the video The Snowman. It’s short, artsy, and the music is incredible. Make that number 6.

4. Yes Virginia, There is a Santa Claus. ok, so this is what happened: back in 1897, a little girl named Virginia O’ Hanlon wrote a letter to the New York Sun, which was a newspaper at that time, and she wrote, “I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, “If you see it in The Sun, it’s so.” Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?” well, the editor (Francis Church) of the paper wrote the now famous response, but the thing is, his answer was like, five (5) paragraphs long.  and the first paragraph was this,
“Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men’s or children’s are little. In this great universe of ours, man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.”

Please…no more.

ok, so like, were 8 year olds geniuses back then or am i just an idiot? i mean, was little Virginia O’ Hanlon supposed to get that? then the guy talks about fairies dancing on the lawn…? and he goes on to say “…but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived could tear apart. Only faith, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernatural beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.”  

I’d love to attack that image with a high powered rifle or an AK47. Chalk four more dead fairies Fred. They make the oddest little poofing sound when they are hit.  

whatever dude. just say, “yes” and we’ll move on.
8 year olds dude.  

3. The Night Before Christmas. there seems to be some conflict over who wrote this one. it doesn’t matter. IT RHYMES.  not only that, but it starts out with the word, t’was.  my favorite version of this is the one with Bugs Bunny reading it. but the good part is, besides of course the rhyming, is that it’s short and easy to understand.  i mean, the most confusing thing about it is, “why does, ma have a ‘kerchief?” or “what’s a sash?” it’s all just good, wholesome, zany fun!  

The kerchief and sash relate to some S&M stuff that I don’t think should have been part of the story at all. The Night Before Christmas was originally published in a newspaper years ago. It’s ground zero for the America version of Santa Claus. That and Coca-cola. The images of Santa on cokes are responsible for our Santa looking the way he does.  I once read The Night Before Christmas to an audience as Jack Nickolson. I liked the way that Jack says…the moon on the breast of the new fallen snow…

2. The Gift of the Magi by O. Henry.  ok look, i get the story.  really i do.  but i still hate it. it always gives me a stomach ache.  she (della) cuts off all her hair and sells it to buy her husband (james) a chain for his watch while he sells his watch to buy her some fancy combs for her luxurious long hair.  see how much they love each other?  maybe next year they’ll have a better game plan.  i mean, thank god these people didn’t have any kids!
“i had to sell your mom and my good watch to buy you kids christmas this year.”  

That story is so true to life that I don’t really want to watch it.  Damn, I wish there really was a Santa Claus.

but the Christmas story that freaks me out the most…  

1. A Christmas Memory by Truman Capote.  i would rather eat a copy of The Gift of the Magi than have to read or watch this autobiographical nightmare ever again.  and the thing is, i’ll never have to read it or watch it again because i can’t forget it.  it’s that burned into my brain. 
it’s the one about the little boy, an old woman, and fruitcakes. it’s really a beautiful story but my god, the depravity. it makes Magi seem downright campy. look, no description of this tale would do it justice.  so i suggest you read it. it’s pretty short and there’s a 3 legged chicken. you’ll only have to read it once.  and if it doesn’t kill you, know that you’ll never have to read it again.  also know that anytime you hear the word fruitcake you’ll get a tear in your eye and of course, the obligatory bile taste on the back of your throat.  

That’s not what I remember about the story at all. It’s about these two thugs that go into this families house late at night and tie them up and blow them away with shot guns. Robert Blake plays the childlike killer. The music is the perfect soundtrack for a nightmare.  I think the whole title of the movie is The In Cold Blood Christmas Memories of Truman Capote. I don’t remember the three legged chicken. Maybe the chicken was in a scene but I don’t remember it. Maybe the three legged chicken was really a rooster…who knows.

man, that story freaks me out.  

well, there you have it.  i left out the Charlie Brown Christmas and Rudolf the Red-nosed Reindeer and the Island of Misfit Toys even though they are both classics and wonderful. and i also left out the Nightmare Before Christmas because, to be honest, Tim Burton scares me more than Truman Capote, although it’s close.  

I can’t stand that Rudolf special! I can’t stand any of those 1960’s stop action specials. The only one I did like was that Norelco Shave commercial that only lasted 30 seconds.

next week’s epitomb: the 2001 edition of Happy Holidays from Apartment 711 (with picture).  

jaimie “it’s the hap- happiest season of all…” pickle

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Tags: christmas, nerd

The One About Christmas pt. I
December 4, 2001

well kids, it’s december. 

officially we can start complaining about – i mean – talking about christmas.  and let’s see, you guys have about 20 shopping daze left to buy me sumpin’. so you know, keep that in mind. 

i’m toying around (pun very much intended) the idea of having a theme this month. a christmas theme. each week i’ll throw out a christmas related topic and stomp it ’til it screams and we all laugh.  ’tis the season, and all that.  

but let’s start this weekly christmas season out right. forget santa. forget elves (horrible curs). forget stockings and spiked eggnog. and let’s focus for a minute on a wee babe.
a little baby boy that would change the world.
a little baby boy born to teach the world that good can overcome evil.
a little baby boy that reminds us what this christmas season is all about, commercialism.  

and of course i’m talking about harry potter.  

that’s right. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone has opened up just in time for christmas which means just in time for “mommy! mommy! buy me…”
so not only will it cost you $40 to take your 2.5 children to the movies to sit through a 2 and one half hour flick that will simply “enchant” the whole family, but there is also a slew of HP products out there for you to purchase, wrap, and slap under that pagan-turned-christian-traditional christmas tree for your wee ones. harry potter books, action figures, dolls, broomsticks, animatronic dragons, wrist watches, pillows, bed linens, back packs (i believe that’s rucksack for you, rowan), hats, mittens, scarves, shoes, and other necessary apparel.
candy, beach towels, place mats, cups, saucers, spoons, throw blankets, stickers, non-toxic lightning bolt tattoos (safe enough to put on your wee one’s soft, impressionable noggin), games, puzzles, comics, and yes, even packages of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.  

ah yes, christianity’s worst nightmare: a fictional, 11 year old boy.
and you thought satan claus was bad.  

oh well, ’tis the season, and all that.  

so this year kids may have no idea what the heck frankincense and myrrh is, but they do know all about quidditch, bludgers, quaffles, and the golden snitch. and really, what’s the problem? i still don’t know what myrrh is. and let’s be honest, is there anyone out there who, upon hearing the word frankincense, does not picture a magi with a green head and neck-bolts saying, “myrrh….goooood!” anyone? i didn’t think so.  

so has this year’s christmas become tainted with witchcraft, superstitions, and other evils? er, no more than usual. i think we’re all going to be okay.  

but still, i can’t figure out what’s worse, that perhaps this year’s baby in the manger might be overshadowed by a kid on a broomstick, or the fact that i liked Harry Potter so darn much.  

and really what’s not to like? i mean, hollywoodland really did a good job with this one. chris “Adventures in Babysitting” columbus directed the movie which is basically like this one huge special effect. and the music was scored by john “Starwars” williams, i mean, really, what could be more perfect? it even has good actors! first there’s robbie “hey, wasn’t he that russian dude from that Bond movie?” coltrane, richard “my god, he’s still alive?” harris, alan “metatron” rickman, maggie “the mother superior from Sister Act” smith, and john “dead parrot” cleese! and even the kids playing harry, ron, and hermione do a great job.  the only thing that bothered me was that the kid playing ron had this permanent wince throughout the whole movie, it was as if he bit into a bitter/sour/nasty pistachio before he did all his scenes.  what’s up with that?  

so anyway, this holiday season be sure to remember the real “reason for da season” and then, for crying outs, take the kids to the movies.  sheesh.  

hey special bonus!  while i was struggling to write this week’s weekly i had asked laura “font diva” bentley for some help.  as usual, she was no help at all.  but she did suggest that i write a 12 Days of Christmas spoof involving harry potter.  like that song needs spoofing, it’s the dumbest of all christmas songs, no? i mean, what’s with all the birds?  i don’t get it. but anyway, i told laura that i was not clever enough to spoof the song, and begged her for another suggestion.  well, she never gave me one, well, other than that long walk/short pier thing… anyway, at work today i received a fax from laura and turns out she wrote a 12 Days of Harry Potter and i’m not sure if that means she’s more clever than me or just has way too much free time.  either way i’m tickled to death that she wrote something so here ’tis:  
On the 12th Day of Potter, Albus Dumbledore gave to me…
12 Muggles mugging
11 Slytherins sniping
10 Ravenclaws raving
9 Gryffindors grinning
8 Hufflepuffs a-huffing
7 Wands a-waving
6 Bertie Bott’s Beans
5 Gol-den Snitches!
4 Remembralls
3 Quidditch robes
2 Phoenix feathers
And a ticket for Hogwart’s Express!  

thanks LB!  you da whoa-man. i do apologize for getting that tune stuck in your head all day, but i don’t think it could be any worse than having johnny cash’s Ring of Fire rattling around your head for over a week.  it’s slowly killing me.   

and here’s a link of the week as suggested by kucumber joe, http://www.konstruktiv.net/kitty_02.html 
thanks kucumbah!  (how on earth did you find that?)  

next week’s christmas flavored epitomb: The Gift of the Magi and why it angers me so.  

jaimie “and it burns, burns, burns…that ring of fire” pickle

when i told my leetle brahther that i had seen the harry potter movie the first thing he asked was, “do the kids really eat chocolate covered frogs?” i was expecting him to make fun of me.  but no. chocolate frogs.  that “little” justin always keeps me guessing.   if you’d like to be removed from this list because you think i’m going to hell for liking the harry potter, then all you hafta do is ask.    

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Tags: christmas, rant

The One About the Whiskey Rebellion and Sin Tax
November 27, 2001

hey kids. rock ‘n roll.  

ok, so i got a playstation2 over the weekend. you guys are lucky to get anything at all this week. derp!  

so dad comes up to me the other day and says, “man, let me tell you about the Whiskey Rebellion!” and i’m thinking, “hmm. that sounds familiar.” and he starts telling me all about the Whiskey Rebellion and well, thanks History Channel.  but he was really impressed by that whole bit of rarely talked about American history (the Whiskey Rebellion, keep up.). and after he told me all about it i became impressed with it. i can’t explain it. i mean, Whiskey Rebellion. who cares?  

and i really hate to give you guys another history lesson so soon after the whole Quaker/Shaker sha-bang. and i hate it even more that it’s an American history lesson ’cause well, yikes.  and i know that i promised one about Harry Potter and evilness but um, i need to uh, see the movie first…well, again. and i should probably read the book six or seven more times.  what? obsessed? what are you talking abou- hey! don’t make me cast a spell on you! i’ll do it. i will.  
anyway, Potter coming soon.  

ok, so Whiskey Rebellion. instead of my usual “Historical Topic for Morons, Mush-gobs, and Meat-heads” i’m gonna do something short and sweet (right). i give you:

The Whiskey Rebellion of 1794 in One Paragraph      

Several years after the American Revolution, the U.S. government found itself in a wee bit of debt (war is money) and was also in the middle of trying to move the capital city from Philly to some backwoods area ‘twixt Virginia and “Maryland” (read: more money.  also read: maryland is the new canada). So congress and Secretary of Treasury, Alexander Hamilton, passed an excise tax on all distilled spirits. This angered many farmers, especially the ones in Pennsylvania, and they refused to pay the tax.  A couple of years later George Washington and about 13,000 militia men came along and said, “You best better be payin’ that tax.” And so they did.  

see? that wasn’t so hard was it? and now i give you: Ten (9) Fun Facts About the Whiskey Rebellion of 1794  

10. The Whiskey Rebellion was the first skirmish to take place after the Revolutionary War.  i’m not sure what the hell a “skirmish” is, but i think it means it wasn’t really much of a problem.  

9. In some states there was such a public opposition to the tax that the gov’t repealed the tax. but not in all states.  and in the states where they did not repeal the tax the people “rebelled”. they refused to pay the tax. for over three years!  finally in 1794, officials starting arresting the whiskey ringleaders.  

8. the angry citizens (scary Pennsylvania farmers) would often threaten tax collectors.  they would even go so far as to “tar and feather” the poor tax shemps.  tar and feather.  how did they come up with that anyway? i mean, ok sure, the tar part is easy. there have been countless times that i’ve been in a situation with say, a customer or a dentist or a tax collector and i’ve been arguing with them and getting nowhere and of course my first thought of action always leads me to dump a pail of hot tar all over their person.  but the feathers? pure genius. i would have loved to have been at the first tar and feathering.
“William! We’ve captured the cur! what shall we do with him?”
“Well done Goodman Smythe! Tie him up and…and…uh…fetch the tarsmith!”
“aye!”
*several minutes later*
“Well, we’ve coated him with tar.”
“We sure have.”
“yep.”
“uh huh.”
“Seems kind of i dunno, anti-climactic.”
“Yeah.”
“You know…”
“Yes Oliver! You have an idea?”
“Well, i dunno. I mean, I was thinking. It’s just that well, I’ve got this chicken coop and well, nah nevermind.”
“Oh come on Ollie! Spill it!”
“Well sir, last week i had gone into my chicken coop to get some eggs for the missus and apparently i had sap on my hand. and when i drew my hand out of one of the nests…it was covered in feathers!  and well i just thought that if my hand covered in feathers was funny, i wonder how funny it would be to…”
“Brilliant!”  

yeah, i would’ve like to have been there.  

7. George Washington was president at the time but he could not call upon the U.S. army to go and force the stubborn farmers to pay the tax.  this was because the whole army (all 2,600 of ’em) was in Ohio fighting some Indians.  

6. there is no # 6.  

5. with no army, they had to create a militia. they were able to gather over 12,000 men for this militia.  

4. ok, there’s only 2,600 people in the army, who are at this point fighting dangerous, tomahawk-throwing Indians. meanwhile, they are able to get OVER 12,000 men together to basically “fight” some farmers who’s violent tendencies swing toward tar and feathering. anyone?  

3. George Washington personally led the militia in what was the largest military operation since the Revolutionary war. That was the first and only time that a sitting president commanded troops in battle.  *ahem* “in battle” (read: skirmish).  

2. the militia was a success! and only three or so people died. several were tarred and feathered.  

1. all of the whiskey ringleaders were condemned to death for treason. er, a couple of weeks later they were all pardoned.    it all just goes to show you, American history is weird.  

anyway, the whole Whiskey Rebellion got me thinking about taxes and whiskey.  and cigarettes and playing cards and well, you guessed it! sin tax!  

so one day i was talking to laura “grape ape” bentley (dude, i don’t know where the grape ape came from, but it’s been in my head all day. he had to come out. sorry.) and i was babbling on about how crazy it is to have a sin tax on playing cards and laura was all, “what are you talking about?” and so i was all, “sin tax.” and she was all, “what?” and i was all, “the tax they put on game cards?” and she was all, “whatever you freak.” or something like that.   

now i have no idea what a sin tax does, i don’t know if every state has sin taxes, i don’t know ANYTHING about any sort of tax or sin or sinful taxes. meaning i’m an expert.  and really, the only sin tax you ever read about or actually see is the cigarette tax.  i mean, we all know there’s a sin tax on beer but you never really see that.  but the tax stamps are actually on the packs of stoags. and i can’t, for the life of me,figure out what they are for.  

ok, so the state needs money for um, let’s say schools. so they tax things.  things like cigarettes because well, it’s easy.  and they (as in them. freemasons i suppose) say, “well you shouldn’t be smoking those cancer sticks anyway” and so they really tax the cigs because they can. and well, by making them more expensive they are saving the lives of people who cannot afford to buy cigarettes at those high prices (and if you really believe that you’re an idiot). so now the shemps who can still afford to buy the smokes, they uh, still buy them.  now the poor shemps, on the other hand, are forced to buy their smokes illegally, or from Indians (who are allowed to sell smokes with no taxes.) and so what’s happening? i mean, the gub’ment doesn’t really want people to stop smoking.  they need smokers. they need the whole tobacco industry.  they crave it.  ha.

so it seems to me a weird kind of relationship.  a ‘ship between not good and evil, but more like “not so bad and evil”.  and it seems harsh to call it a “sin” tax doesn’t it?  smokers are SINNERS!  TAX THE EVIL DOERS!  it’s just that i don’t remember any of the ten commandments being Thou shalt not smoke. or for that matter: Thou shalt not smoke, nor drink distilled spirits, nor play Go Fish with your kids.” sin tax.  weird.  

so i’m thinking if smoking and drinking (in moderation, mind you) and pinochle are sins i mean, what about the Seven Deadly Sins? i mean those are “actual” sins.  why not tax components of those?  

1. Pride/Vanity: tax all mirrors, make-up and Rogaine products.  and while we’re at it, all clothing that’s not black and white. colors are vain!  

2. Envy: um, i can’t think of a noun that goes with this one.  i guess maybe it would have to be like a “swear jar” where every time you had an envious thought you would have to put a nickel in a jar.  honor system.  yeah that would work.  

3. Lust: that’s easy. tax on all forms of birth control.   

4. Sports: ok so sports isn’t a sin, but i can’t think of anything for Anger, plus i was just seeing if you were paying attention.  i didn’t realize that Anger was one of the deadly sins. i guess Anger leads to Murder and murder is definitely bad.  but uh, guns don’t kill people… so we tax the hell out of bullets.  word!  

5. Greed: a tax on money!  oh wait, they do this one to us already.  

6. Sloth: so do we tax lazy people? or things like T.V. and Internet?  or maybe just silly e-mails…  

7. Gluttony: ok, so we tax all foods not a fruit, vegetable or meat.  there’s no tax on bread but there would be a tax on other grains such as granola bars and fluorescent breakfast cereals.   

yeah, so there’s the sin tax and the deadly sin tax. which brings us to the luxury tax…  
yeah right.  i gotta go play some video games. by the way, video games come under the Anger Tax. i find myself constantly swearing at the characters on the screen be they race cars, motor cycles, or people and oh yeah, it’s always the controller that isn’t working right.  it has nothing to do with the fact that i’m a girl and that girls suck at video games.  

next week’s epitomb: Practical Applications for the Seven Deadly Sins as well as the Twelve Heavenly Virtues.
added bonus: papal vices vs. cardinal virtues.  

jaimie “any question class? you will be tested on this material” pickle

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Tags: nerd

The One About Some More Customers
November 20, 2001

hi kids,  

warning: the following weekly may be offensive. 
i make fun of people and use a few swear words.  if you think that this kind of “humor” might offend you i suggest not reading it.  and i promise next week’s will be more family oriented.  you know, a little something for the kids.  Harry Potter or something.  

er sorry, no Thanksgiving motif.  you were expecting The One About Pilgrims, right?  

lately i’ve had several people mention that the tone of the Weekleez has changed.  and that sometimes i’m “mean” and “unapologetic” and that i have a “bad attitude”.  well, my first response to that was, “shut up you dirty peasant!” and then i thought, “hmm, maybe they’re on to something.” and then i thought, “nah, stupid peasant.”  

so i went back and read some of the more recent Weeklies and the only really harsh thing i noticed was the ones where i make fun of customers.  and so i thought maybe i should clear the air on this whole “customer” bidness.  

first of all, about 90% of the customers i deal with are normals.  like you and me. well, like you anyway.  well, not you really, but like that guy you saw in the hall the other day. he was a normal.  ok, i love these customers.  they’re great and i love helping them.  it’s that other 10% that i write about.  you know those people. morons. and admit it, you like it when i make fun of the moron customers.  and i’m not talking about the customers who have no idea what their sign options are.  i realize that not everyone knows every aspect of what they need, but come on, at least have an idea of what you need on your sign.  otherwise i’m thinking you don’t really need a sign.  

here’s a typical call: *ring*
“kelly signs, home of the dawg gone good sign, this is jaimie can i help you?”  

er, ok. that’s not how i answer the phone.  

*ring*
“kelly signs”
“hi this is blah blah from blah blah Inc. i need some banners.”
“ok, what size do you need?”
“blah blah.”
“and what color copy?”
“blah.”
“and what do you need on the banner?”
“blah blah.”
“ok, i’ll fax you a copy of the art work and send you a quote and you can call me back to approve it.”
“thank you wise signmaker for making this so easy.”
“no, thank you, gentle customer, for knowing what you wanted thus making my job easier.”  

now see, that happens like, 10 times a day.  but i never write about that. i mean, that’s boring and certainly not funny.  no entertainment in that little bit of my day now was there?  i mean, if i wrote a Weekly about that you guys would hate it. it’s that other 10% out there that really make my day.  make it a frustrating hell-hole of stupidity.  

5% of the morons won’t even talk to me.  they want to talk to kelly, ’cause she owns the place and obviously since i’m not kelly i’m an idiot who couldn’t possibly know anything, like, say, stuff about signs or really, anything. ’cause you know, i’m not kelly.  

and hey i understand. i mean, if i had dealt with one person the last time i ordered a sign i would want to deal with that same person again, right? i mean, if you’re a repeat customer and the person knows that you’re a repeat customer you might even get a deal, right? (heck no, but you can always dream, you cheap bas-) anyway… so i understand if someone wants to deal with kelly if they’ve talked to her before.  but this is the guy i hate:
*ring*
“kelly signs”
“uh hi, is kelly there?”
“no sir, can i help you?”
“uh, well i’m not sure.  i need a sign for my business.”
“oh ok, well maybe i can help you…”
“i dunno, when will kelly be back?”
he must know kelly. “i’m not sure maybe in an hour, can i help you or take a message or get your number?”
“oh well, i don’t know. i just need him to come out and look at my business and…”
him? him?!  this dude doesn’t know kelly at all!  (kelly is a chick)
i just hate it when people who don’t even know kelly won’t talk to me ’cause i’m not kelly.  i mean, maybe i’m smart too.  maybe!  

3% of the morons out there aren’t morons at all.  they are secretaries. now wait a minute! don’t freak out just yet.  i’m certainly not calling any secretaries morons.  no way. it’s usually their boss that’s the moron.  i think what happens is the boss is talking to the secretary (or “office assistant” or whatever they prefer to be called) and says, “call a sign shop and get some prices on some signs.” and the secretary says, “ok, boss.” and then this happens:
*ring*
“kelly signs”
“yes, this is blah from blah blah and i need to get some prices on some signs.”
“ok great, what kind of sign do you need?”
“what? um, i dunno. i just need some prices for some…signs.”
“ok, but i really need to know what kind of sign you need, do you need something for outdoors or indoors?”
“um, i’m not really sure. he didn’t tell me. he just wanted some prices. i guess i need to get some more information first.  i’m sorry. i’ll call you back.”
“hey, no problem.”  

and that happens more often then you might think. it’s really not a big deal.  i mean, it’s not her fault.  but sometimes the poor shemp secretary feels really stupid about the whole thing, because you know, she doesn’t know anything (and hey, that’s ok) but she’s gotta get something for her boss and godforbid she go back to the boss and get some information.   but she’s been put in this awkward position, right? and she was put there by her ignorant boss, right? but she can’t get mad at the boss, right? because the boss is important, right? but she’s gotta vent, right? i mean, she’s on the phone and has to get prices for the boss and she can’t just not get prices for the boss because then she didn’t do that job that the boss gave her to do and by god, someone’s gotta go down!  yeah, like probably me.
*ring*
“kelly signs”
“hi this is “Mary” from blah blah and i need some prices on some signs.”
“ok, what kind of sign?” *a pause as the shemp realizes that she has no idea.*
“um, well i don’t know.  what kind of signs do you have?”
“we have aluminum signs, plastic signs, banners, lighted signs, flashing signs, pretty much any kind of sign.”
“oh, well how much are they?”
“which kind?”
“what?”
“which kind of sign do you need?”
“well I don’t know! i just need a price!” why is she so huffy?
“yes ma’am, but the different signs all have different prices.  i need to know what sort of sign you need.”
“well, how much is a small sign?”
oh yeah, that helps. “what kind?”
“what?” “what kind of sign?”
“a small one.” y’know, if she’d just go ask her boss some questions then she’d know something.
“yes ma’am but do you need a metal sign or a plastic sign?”
“i’m not sure, what’s the difference in price?”
“well, that depends on what size you need.” lead balloon.
“i don’t know what size, what sizes do you have.”
pretty much any bleeding size you want seeing as how we make custom signs.  “um well, some of the more standard sizes are…”
“is there someone else there i could talk to?”
what?! “um, no ma’am. kelly isn’t here right now.”
“well, maybe i should just call back later when i can talk to kelly.”
sweet.  i don’t have to talk to this moron anymore.  

but then this lady called this week and kind of put all those “others” into one person (with a twist):
*ring*
“kelly signs”
“hi this is “betty” from *random insurance company* and uh, i think we’ve ordered banners from you before.”
“ok sure, “wilma” orders stuff from us all the time. what can i do for you today?”
“um, well, is this kelly?”
“no, i’m sorry.  kelly isn’t in at the moment. can i help you?”
“well, i guess so.  we need a banner.  i think someone priced us one for $50.”
“ok, sure. what do you need on the banner?”
“well, i’m not really sure. my boss didn’t tell me that. when will kelly be back?”
geez, i hate it when people won’t talk to me ’cause i’m not kelly.  i mean, for crying outs, i can take a bloody banner order! “she’ll be back in about two hours, but if it’s just a banner you need, i can take that order.”
“well, i don’t know. i’m not sure what goes on the banner, but um, i have a fax here with all the information for the banner.”
and you’re not sure what goes on the banner but you’re looking at a fax with the info on it right. bloody. now? “well, ok you can fax it on over to us…”
“well, i just don’t know. i think my boss talked to kelly about it.”
yeee-ahhh. “well, ok. you can still fax the information over if you wan-“
“look, i’m not sure about all of this. my boss talked to kelly about this and i think it would be better if i could talk to kelly.”
why is she so nervous all of a sudden? who cares, get her number and she’ll go away.
“ok sure, can i get your telephone number-“
“look, it’s just that… well, i just don’t want to do this wrong.”
“um, that’s fine.  can i have your number?”
“and i think kelly will be able to understand more of what we need on the banner.”
look, i get it. i’m not kelly. i’m a moron. like you. “ok that’s-“
“because it’s a banner that’s been approved by the headquarters of all of the local insurance companies.”
go away. “uh huh, that makes perfect sense then if kelly-“
“and i wouldn’t want anything obscene on the banners.”
what? what just happened? obscene? i don’t. get.  what?!”
“er, i um, obscene? i don’t-“
“look, i’ll just call back later.” *click*  

she hung up just like that.  what a weird phone call. but who cares?  
now the only thing worse than a phone customer with no clue is a customer that walks in and has no clue. but let’s not get into those right now.  

the other 2% of the morons i deal with are the rude customers and the freaky customers.   here’s an example of a freak i had this week.  

an old dude and his old lady come in and the old dude kinda looks like he might be 1/8 indian (er, Native American). and he says, “let me see all your Native American art.” and hello to you too. “sure thing sir.”   so i show him what little artwork we have on the subject.  and i know you’re wondering “why do they have that kind of stuff at a sign shop?” well see we do vehicles too. and some of those truckers are really into that kinda thing.    
so the nice old couple pick out a design and i make it for them and i ask the guy if he has ever applied one of those stickers before (’cause it’s kinda tricky if you’ve never done it before) and the dude says that yeah he’s put some of the smaller decals on and so i tell him he should have no problem then and then he says, “i know you have to clean the surface pretty well.” and i say, “yeah.” and he points to his wife and says, “that’s what she’s for.” and i’m thinking “ass” but i just smile ’cause i haven’t gotten his money yet and it’s not a good idea to insult a moron before you get his money.  and the old lady kinda mumbles something to him because he basically just belittled her in front of a stranger right? and this guy turns to her and sternly says something in native american indian-ese. and the lady immediately went rigid and looked down and what the heck did i just witness?!    crazy!  
sheesh you talk about an uncomfortable silence.  i couldn’t wait for that guy to leave.  and they left behind like this huge spiritual heaviness.  gack, i needed some holy water and a blessing or something.  what a creep.  

and now, for the last customer-induced rant of the weekly. ok first, i’m not totally insensitive y’know? i mean, i have a heart.  and it’s on my sleeve you know?  i’m a decent kind of person.  and normally i would never talk about someone with a handicap or a speech impediment, it’s just not one of those things you do.  but this lady… was so snooty, and so demanding, and such a witch *wink wink* that i HAVE to rant about her.  

this amazon comes in and she says, “hi need schome schignsch.” and i’m thinking, “huh. speech thingy.” and then i’m all in “sales mode” and the amazon says, “do you deschign the schignsch?” and so i have to look away for a moment so’s to concentrate on me not affecting the speech thingy in my speech. because i’m kinda prone to repeating things.  like, if you watch an episode of Monty Python and you’re not british, you tend to um, you know, talk in a squeaky british accent and yeah right, like it’s just me.  so anyway i’m thinking “jaimie, DO NOT schay anything schtupid.”  

and i’m “putting the sale” on her. and she’s buying and i can’t help but notice that she’s kinda demanding. and ok, some people are like that.  but she’s wanting all her signs like, tomorrow, and well, tomorrow was a saturday and schorry schweety, we’re not open on schaturdaysch.  so she huffed away and i didn’t hear back from her.  even though i spent an hour doing artwork and quotes and trying my best to work with her.  i really did.  i came up with a price list for her and everything.  and she never called back.  witch.  

now you would think that she would realize that we can’t just pull these signs out of our arschesch right? so wouldn’t you think that maybe next time she needed a sign she would call us a couple of days before she needs the signs? well, some people are morons and some people are very self-absorbed.  it’s a wicked combination. so she calls again this week and she’s all, “i muscht have thesche signsch by tomorrow.” and my boss talked to her this time and told her there was no way we could have them by the next day and that she’d be lucky to get them before Thanksgiving. well, the ice-queen freaks out and begschs usch to have her signsch ready before Thanksgiving and so we tell her we’ll do our bescht.   

so i get the signs done a day early. early. ok? i work to get these things done early so she can get them up. now the sign shop is wide open, ok? we are so busy it’s phenomenal.  so kelly tells the heartless freak that her signs are ready and she can pick them up. so the lady comes in THE NEXT DAY to get her signs. and she’s all, “do you not deliver?” like i’ve never heard of this concept before. and yeah, we deliver. when we’re not covered up in work and when we can bring the signs at our leisure and well yeah we deliver. so i say, “well, yes ma’am, we deliver if the sign is really huge or-“
“i mean, do you make all of your cuschtomersch pick up their schtuff?”  

what a diva!  this nordic ice queen drove up in a huge full size 1980s van.  she could’ve fit several 8’x4’s!  her signs weren’t that big!   what is her problem?! i mean, if i walked into Walmart and bought a pack of gum and a flashlight and said, “do you not deliver? do ALL of your customers have to COME IN the store and MAKE THEIR OWN purchases and WALK BACK to their car?”  the cashier would probably hit me.  and i’d deserve it!   

then she accused me of changing the price!  now wait just a minute schischter! i might have a “bad attitude” and maybe i’m “mean-schpirited” but i’m NOT a liar, nor a thief. so i pointed out on her quote that the price was still the same and that it didn’t come out “even” because of this little thing called “schalesch taxch”.  and the sales tax was on her quote!  it was completely TOTALED up for her.  but then she told me how great the signs looked and that she just loved them and i thought, “well maybe she’s not so bad.”
THEN she points to wade (my co-worker/slave) and says, “have him put them in my van.”
!gasp! i know!  

like he’s some sort of lesser underling who could not possibly understand a polite question if one was asked.  i just stared at her, and she walked out to her giant sled-car.  the one that would hopefully take her back to her ice-kingdom.  
and i turned to wade and said something like, “could you please take the bitch’s signs to her car?”    

so you see, i really love the customers.  they’re great. and the morons?  well i love them too.  in fact, i’m thankful for them. (see? thanksgiving! i can be thankful!) they keep my life interesting and they give me plenty of fuel for these Weekly things.  it’s just a darn good thing that they are the exception and not the rule, or you guys would probably be getting Dailies instead of Weeklies.  and well, yikes.  

next week’s epitomb: Harry Potter, fun-loving kid’s story? or is it just the devil.  

jaimie “bad attitude?! me?! why you little-” pickle

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Tags: rant, sign shop

The One About Origami
November 13, 2001

hi kids,  

right, so first off a shout out to A “all he’s got is initials” J, he gave me some homemade beef jerky.  you gotta love that homemade flava.  and i know what you’re thinking, “jaimie, you take beef jerky from a stranger? you don’t even know his name!  have you lost your mind?”  well, he’s not that much of a stranger. i could pick him out of a line-up (although not the vice president), i just don’t know AJ’s name.  maybe it’s just A.  anyway, thanks AJ, for the jerky!
AJ’s new cool Spy Name is Admiral Catamaran.  use it well.  

blahblahblah don’t feel obligated to send me stuff blah blah. unless you blah blah nickname blah kris.  

right, on with the weekly.
ah, The One About Origami.  

Step 1. “Valley fold the top point of the triangle down to the crease mark. This should look just like the flap on the other side. Unfold. Rotate the model clockwise 90 degrees. Valley fold the bottom point up to where the crease lines meet. Valley fold the model in half. Make an outside reverse fold along the existing crease lines (see outside reverse fold, pages 8-10). Bring the left and right corners of the square together so that they meet at the bottom corner, as shown. The top corner will also come down to the bottom corner. Press flat. This is the preliminary base.”
Step 2. “Wad up folded paper violently while shouting obscenities. Toss into nearest trash can.
Step 3. “When you miss the trash can, curse loudly and kick the can.”  

i guess it didn’t help that i was liquored up when i tried my hand at the Japanese art of paper folding. ha ha! just kidding (no i’m not). see kids, getting drunk is for stupid people.  only a moron would drink a bottle of schnapps and then attempt to make pretty birds out of colored paper.  you need a sober, clear mind to make those creases just right.  otherwise, your “peace crane” looks like a “piece of crap”! ha ha!  

er, where am i going with this? the origami drinking game!  

NO! kids, seriously, drinking and origami do not mix. do NOT drink massive amounts of liquor while folding tiny pieces of paper, unless you have adult supervision.  and if mommy and daddy say it’s ok, then drink away baby, ’cause you’re gonna be a paper folding master soon!  

ok, so remember last week? daktari gave me a mini origami kit.  it’s a cute little box.  it’s no bigger than my computer mouse. the back of the box boasts, “Discover the Japanese art of paper folding! This travel-size kit includes 14 sheets of colored origami paper, plus a 48-page book with easy, step-by-step, illustrated instructions for 5 impressive models. Learn how to make a Japanese helmet, swan, penguin, sailboat, and of course, the traditional favorite, the peace crane. You’ll be folding like a master in no time.”  

Discover the Japanese art of paper folding!  

ok, so i’m kind of wondering, why a “travel-size kit”?  because i mean, “hmmm, i’m going on vacation, let’s see, i need to buy those tiny shampoos and the tiny toothpaste and oh, isn’t that tiny deodorant just darling?  *gasp* i almost forgot! the tiny origami kit!” well, the jumbo, family-size origami is just way too inconvenient, y’know?  i mean, have you ever tried to pack one in a carry-on? ghuh-derp.  

so anyways, yeah, i’ll be folding like a master in no time.  
i guess i should confess that i’m not a total rookie to the origami.  in fact many seasons ago, linda “ancient origami master” licht taught me how to make the “traditional peace crane”, and i’ve been mastering that one for a long time.  i am THE MASTER!  booyah!  

hey that reminds me of this one time in high school.  we had this art class and there was a cool closet and in the closet were all of these objects for still lifes (among other things) and one of the random pieces of junk happened to be the wooden part of a rifle.  and there was this wacko kid who would always hold the gun during class and so it was freaky, y’know? ’cause like, dude, why are you holding that broken gun all the time? so a couple of us would hide the gun but the shemp would always find it.  and then he’d try to hide it from us so that we couldn’t hide it from him anymore ’cause y’know, he was a freak.  and so one day we made a TON of the “peace cranes” and we put them where we had found the gun and there were like 50 of these birds! and so the next day he was really miffed and was all, “ok, where is it?” and so we told him the birds must’ve hidden the gun and to please go away now.  he got mad.   wow, it’s nice to see that although i was a dork in high school, things have changed so much and now i’m still a dork but not in high school.  

er, where was i? oh yeah, THE MASTER!  

so the first of the 5 impressive models was the swan. the instructions were basically “Make a paper airplane. Give it a neck and head.”
swan.
so now i have a blue swan. MASTER!  

the next one was the penguin. it was, in a word, easy, as i am THE MASTER.  i made a pink penguin but really, it looks more like a nun or monk than any sort of arctic water-fowl. the swan and the penguin were made out of the same size paper but the penguin totally towers over the swan. it’s huge.  

next was the sail boat. it was helmet (lame), like maryland. it’s the only piece of origami that i’ve ever seen that was not 3D. but now i have a yellow sail boat.  which is, of course, smaller than the penguin. heck, even the swan is bigger than the boat. what gives? and er, MASTER!  

next was the peace crane.  i believe i’ve already mentioned that i can make those.  MASTER!
i made a green one. it’s a little bit bigger than the boat.  

next was the helmet. the what? why…? helmet?  i uh, er. ok. just go with it. so the helmet, was uh…i mean, i followed the directions y’know? and when i got finished my piece looked like the picture in the book, but it um, well, the picture really wasn’t that great and heck if i know what a Japanese helmet looks like so i’ll just have to take their word for it. i think maybe it’s kinda supposed to look like a samurai’s hat, but it basically looks like a purple folded thingy.   

the funny thing is the book says to, “Open the bottom of your hat and place it on your head!” well, ok sure, but the hat is only like, 4 centimeters long. derp.  

so i put it on the penguin’s head and had a battle between my paper minions.  

the peace crane refused to fight at first.  but the penguin insulted his family and the “peace” crane began flapping it’s wings and slapping the wood pulp out of the penguin.  that’s when the pink penguin asked to borrow my purple Japanese helmet. so with it’s head protected the pink penguin became unstoppable as he was so huge he was sure to trample the rest of the paper creatures. 
but wait!  the swan had been busy forming spit balls with some of the extra colored paper!  he launched a frontal attack!   the pink penguin was doomed!  
but wait! the penguin was not one to give up so fast. he quickly scooped up the very 2D origami sailboat and used it as a shield!  that huge penguin may move slow but darn if he isn’t resourceful!  

by the end of the battle there were torn wings and bits of colored paper and ash everywhere (somehow the crane got a hold of some matches. it wasn’t pretty).
the horror…the horror.  

i think origami is japanese for “look at stupid american children fold paper while we learn math!”
no really, origami was very fun and challenging and i am totally diggin’ it.  my desk will soon be covered with swans and penguins.  

so what have we learned today kids? origami good.  booze bad. and i am THE MASTER!  

next week’s epitomb: themed chess sets.  why? why?!  

jaimie ” *you know ” pickle          

*THE MASTER  

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Tags: Daktari!, nerd

The One About the Library
November 6, 2001

‘allo keeds! eez time once again for zee Weekly!  

first “ORDAH!” of bidness, i have some new Spy Club names to dole out. Eddie “the murph” Muñoz, (i opened the character map just for you, Murphy) who lives in the magical state of Kansas, made me a CD of punk music to go with my pink hair. Thanks Murphy! i’d write about which songs i liked the best but i’d have to use some “strong language” so maybe i’ll write something for the site so i can “curse like a sailor”.
Murphy’s new nickname is Agent Orange. man, i wish that were my nickname.
also, Danny “math teachah” Wilborn gave me a cool mini Origami Kit. this mini kit comes complete with 14 sheets of tiny colored paper and a 48-page book with “easy step-by-step” instructions.  now, i haven’t broken into the kit yet because it looks so cute. i mean it’s barely 3″x3″ and i’m wondering how they crammed a 48-page book inside.  Weekly soon to follow. thanks danny!
Danny’s new nickname is Shimmy van Pericles you may also call him Daktari!. but you must shout Daktari! if you use that one.   

once again i would like to ask that you not feel obligated (kris) to send me cool things and pretty baubles and such. as i do not need cool things and pretty baubles.  but if you want a cool Spy Club nickname (kris) you gotta gimmie sompin’. look, if it were up to me you guys would all have cool nicknames for free. but i don’t make the rules (yes i do) i just follow them. moving on.  

true story.  

so we all know i’m a library geek, right? i mean, i think they can pay their water bill on my late fees alone (hyperbole). well, a couple of months ago (1999) ok stop. enough with the parenthesis already (sorry). a while back i went to the library and noticed that my card catalogue was missing and had been replaced by three computer terminals. terminal means lethal right?  

now i’m cool with the whole concept of the digital “card” catalogue. i mean, i went to college. the university library had one, and i used that. so how different or hard could this “local jobby” be? i can totally deal.  

so i’m hovering about ’cause there’s only three computers and all three are being used and so how inconvenient is that?  

let’s take a moment and think. let’s say a local high school’s A.P. English or history class is assigned a research paper. and let’s say that there are 35 kids in the class. and let’s say 20 of them actually know where the library is. now, out of those 20 let’s say 14 of them actually know how to “use” the library. none of this matters ’cause only three(3) people can search for something at a time!  

tangent, sorry. back to waiting for a ‘puter…  

two of the three shemps using the computers seem to be doing lot’s of researching and note taking and well, it looks like i won’t be getting a turn any time soon.  no prob, i can wait. even though i never had to wait for the “old fashioned” card catalogue. 
then the guy on the end kind of mumbles to himself, sighs dramatically, and walks off toward the fiction stacks. then his head explodes.
whoa.  

i quickly rush up to the now empty terminal and begin my search. ok, first of all, the keyboard has an inch of goo all over it (hyperbole, but yeah, it was still pretty gross). now using the system seems pretty easy, there are three types of searches: Author, Title, Subject. easy enough. i click on Title and search for Rush Limbaugh is a Big, Fat Idiot and Other Observations. ok, so i’m into political satire at the moment. i’m a dork, i think we’ve covered that before.
i click Enter and wait.
and wait.
loading. loading. load.
wait. waiting. waiting. waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiting. wait.
wait. waiter, there’s a fly in my soup!
wait. wait. waiting.wait.
search results: sorry, no book.  

dang. i thought the library would have that book. it’s an older book. and i was kind of disappointed. but aha! let me check my spelling. oh, see? i misspelled Limbugh. so i type it again.
wait. wait. wait.
loading loadloadloadload.
wait. waaaaaaaaaaaaaait.
search results: sorry, you suck.  

well, crackers.  i really thought that…hey, waitaminute. i misspelled it again? and hey, i misspelled Ft, nd, and Observtions.  wh. where’s all my A’s?  

so i type an A.
nothing.
i hit it harder.
more nothing.
i look at the two shemps to my left and see them typing and clicking and searching.
i press the A key down really hard.
nada.
i hold that mother down like i’m holding the head of the genius who thought this digital catalogue system in a small town library was a good idea underwater until i hear the machine go, “blicka-blicka-blicka-blicka”.
no letter A.
deep cleansing breath.  

no problem. i’ll just search the Author search. Author Name: l Frnken
ok, so the author’s name has an A in it.
deeeeeeeeep breath.

i check out the other shemps, more typing, searching, writing, boy they’re finding some good stuff.  

i suppose i could look under Subject for: politicl stire.
i let loose a maniacal bark of laughter.
sssh. quiet.
i mean, why take a deep breath when i can take a bunch of small ones?  

so i can’t look up my book. at all. and really, what can i look up?
ok, the only continent i can look up is Europe, but i can’t search for any of the countries in Europe (except like, Belgium and Greece and like, who cares?). there’s only 14 of the United States that i could look up. of our 43 U.S. presidents, i could only search for 10 of them if i was using first and last names and 22 of them if i was just using last names. well, actually 21, ’cause i’d have to specify Theo or Frankie Roosevelt.
i can’t search for any wars or battles.
spnish rmd.
conquistdor.
spce ge plstic.
nothing.
deep breath?  

ah, but none of this really matters. ’cause i’m not a student having to look up something for a grade and struggling at every turn.  i’m just a shemp with a bum keyboard.   

so all of that took place months ago. i’d even forgotten about it.  

well, last week i was at the library again and was going to do some research on Mrylnd. needless to say i avoided the “card catalogue”. it wasn’t that i didn’t think that the keyboard wouldn’t have been fixed by now (yes it was) it was that i didn’t want to have to wait for the dern thing to load.  it’s sooooooooooo sllllllllllllllllllooooooooooooooooooooooooooow.  

so i thought, hey, i’m not a complete idiot. i can just peruse the United States section for a book about Maryland and sha-bang, i’ll be done. yeah, so i didn’t find anything. no one has time to write a book about that state anyway.  but i ended up in the 900s section and it’s like the nether regions of hell.  let me ‘splain.  

the 900s are the last stack in the non-fiction section.  and in this particular library (and i’ll be honest, it’s a fair library) the last shelf is only like, 2 feet (or 24 inches for all of you freaks out there) away from the wall AND because whoever designed it was a genius, there is of course, no light because the light fixtures are three feet (36 inches) away from the wall and see, the stack is, once again, 2 feet away from the wall thus blocking out it’s own light.
the 900s are a dark-claustrophobic-nightmare crevasse.  

seriously, the space is so small, you can’t bend over or squat down to look at the books on the bottom 2 shelves.  you have to do this uncomfortable side-bending thing and you still can’t see what’s on the bottom shelf.  probably books about Maryland. that’s where i’d put them.  

dark, scary stack.
and what’s crazy is, as soon as you round the corner your stomach turns because it’s so ominous and it really looks like there should be yellow tape blocking the ends.  or at least a sign that says, “Here be Dragons” or something. well, with a dangerous looking stack like that, you just gotta explore, right?  

so i put on my Nancy Drew hat and went sleuthing.  i had to shimmy my way down the stack.  the wall felt wet and slimy. i shuddered. there were probably spiders crawling along the bottom. big ones. then my foot hit something. i looked down.  

it was a dead body! i screamed!
ssh. quiet.
apparently some unlucky shemp had bent over too far and had gotten stuck in between the wall and shelf and had starved to death, slowly.  a rat crawled out of one of the eye sockets and started towards me. AHH! in a blind panic i started to back up and lost my footing.
gads! i slipped and toppled forward landing with a wet thud as i hit the bottom that had gone undisturbed for ages.  

yuck, it was covered in slime and filth and random bones. 
i scrambled away from the decomposing body and shifted to a better position so i could reach my utility belt. i unclipped my Bat-a-rang and used it as a grappling hook to help me scale the monolithic stack of doom. as i pulled myself to safety i hit my head on something hard and unforgiving.
“owweeeoww ow!”
ssh. quiet.  

i reached up to pluck the damnable object from it’s resting place in order to hurl it to the creepy depths below. i ripped it from it’s snug hold and drew it close to see what this vile, offensive thing could be.
Rush Limbaugh is a Big, Fat Idiot and Other Observations by Al Franken.  

sweet!
i went home with dirty knees and a smile that day.
man, i love the library!  

it’s all true doncha know. 
except for the part about the dead body and um, utility belt. 

wow, it got weird there at the end didn’t it? yeah, i did a lot of drugs in the ’60s (no i didn’t). yes i did.  

next week’s epitomb: Jaimie’s Origami Adventure  

jimie “Reding is Fundmentl” pickle  

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Tags: library, rant

The One About Delaware
October 30, 2001

hi kids,  

hey, didn’t Mr. Finlayson do an excellent job last week?  wouldn’t you guys like to read more of his observations and such?  i think i might have to go on vacation more often.  like, every other week or something.  “Miss Fleo” is the new “Electra”.  i loved it! you go sir.  

well, i had a lovely vacation thanks for asking.  laura “da bomb diggity dot com” bentley and i spent one day in Delaware and three days in Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, Virginia, Maryland, Delaware, New Jersey for ten minutes, Maryland again, West Virginia, Virginia again, Tennessee, and back home to this place.  how we skipped Kentucky, i have no idea.    that’s alotta driving, folks.  my back is still angry with me. 

Delaware is a great little state and sometime i’d like to go back. next time i think i’ll fly there so i won’t have to drive through the most miserable state in the union.  and no, i’m not talking about West-by God-Virginia. i’m talking about Maryland.

  Maryland is so helmet.  and in case you aren’t “down” with the “jive talk”, helmet is equivalent to “really bad” or “gag me with a spoon” or “i’d rather have red hot needles shoved in my eyes than…” or maybe even, “hey! you kids, get off the lawn!”

helmet is bad. and so is Maryland.  

Now there’s East Maryland which is on the Atlantic Coast and then there’s West Maryland which is right next to uh, i dunno West Virginia maybe.  it doesn’t matter. 

ok, so East Maryland is like the land that time forgot.  i was expecting it to be more industrial what with all the water and all. nay nay my friends, nay nay. no cellular service, but a rather quiant feudal system.  

the serfs that live there have in fact developed the 3 crop rotation (mostly radishes, beets and rhubarb), but that’s as far as they have advanced.  i believe they are vassals to Lord Baltimore who lives in West Maryland.  and let’s see, they had a sun god and a moon goddess and some sort of mean beastie that would kill anybody who wasn’t in the mead hall after dark.   also, i think that West Maryland uses East Maryland as a penal colony.  in a word, that place is helmet.  

West Maryland has entered into the 21 century (cellular service) but it’s still just a giant farm.  Baltimore and D.C. are just flukes.  trust me.  

oh yeah, there was a patch of woods somewhere on that farm we call Maryland. i think that’s where the Blair Witch lives.  she’s trying to relocate to Delaware, i’m sure. it’s all about the pizza.  

Virginia was dull yet wholesome.  it would best be descibed as “Ohio, with a coast.” their slogan should really be “Virginia is for lovers… and sheep” or something.  

North Carolina was gorgeous. there we met a little girl named Kaeli (look, i can’t spell, but it’s pronounced “KAY-lee”) and this little 2 year old is a genius.  this kid can converse better than i can.  and she’s much cuter than me too.  everything she said was precious. everything.  how cool is that?  
however, I-40 was under construction every 20 miles.  that was a drag, but boy, was the scenery awesome.  

South Carolina, like Georgia, is highly forgettable. 

Tennessee has the mountains. 
and passing a semi on a steep mountain grade while said semi is doing mach 2 around a curve is kinda stressful.  kinda.  

ok, so we went to Delaware right? and i know you’re wondering why.  well i don’t know.  we just went.  but we know someone formally from Delaware, we will call her “Flarbie”, she now lives here but she told us about Delaware and that we had to eat a Grotto’s pizza if we went up there because it’s the best pizza ever.  so we went and the first thing we did when we got there was shake the Maryland filth from our feet, and then we scarfed a Grotto’s pizza.  and then we called Flarbie’s brother (who still lives in Delaware) and we’ll call him “Flill”.  but we didn’t really know Flill at all. never met him. but you know what? he invited us to stay at his house with his whole family and you know what else? he fed us a homemade pizza.  how nice are these people i ask you? very nice.  

i mean, Flill and his wife Flacey let two strangers into their home and treated us really great and they were the sweetest northerners i’ve ever met (my whole fam is from up north) and wow.  just wow.  Delaware is awesome.   

and yes, Delaware does have the best pizza ever, but it is not Grotto’s pizza (which was pretty good). Flill’s pizza was awesome.  and his 3.8 kids were great too.  these people were so nice.   

i really wanted to make fun of Delaware, but the only thing to make fun of it would be it’s size, and well, we all know it’s not the size that counts.  the only disappointing thing about Delaware (besides the Lewes-Cape May ferry) is there were no souvenirs.  none.   

come on Delaware!  get with the trinkets!  no shot glasses, no key chains, no moronic magnets…what’s wrong with you?  i need some kinda “proof of purchase”, ya dig?  i mean, what kind of state doesn’t have it’s shape and lame logo slapped lopped-sided on a shot glass? ghuhderp?  

and ok, that’s all i can do this week.  

but listen to this you guys.  Pastor Gary “best chocolate chip cookies ever” Faith gave me a shirt for my birthday and on the front in red, white, and blue it reads: “God Bless America” and on the back in pink and black it reads: “Pink Hair Rules”.  how cool is that? a shirt based on a weekly! look for a picture of it soon on the web site.   

and here’s a random link from Wisconsin Wendy http://www.lindqvist.com/bert.php something about Bert from Sesame Street and osamabinladen.  poor bert.   

next week’s epitomb: the customer with the stinky cigar and the customer with the speech impediment. and normally i would NEVER make fun of a speech imediment (yes i would) but in this case it was kinda funny. i was on a mind-numbing drug at the time.  everything was funny.  

jaimie “quaint feudal system” pickle

if you would like to be erased, i suggest moving to Maryland

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Tags: laura

The One About Miss Fleo
by Westbrook Finlayson Jr.

October 23, 2001

Okay, let’s start with confession. I’m not Jaimie. You probably already knew that from two pieces of evidence: Jaimie told you last week and, more incontrovertible still, I’m using capital letters. Jaimie is on vacation, so I, known to some as Brooky, some as Mr. Finlayson, and yet others as the dad of Liz (it’s just Liz) F, have been asked to write the weekly.  

Let me say that, in my checkered literary career, this is the greatest honor yet bestowed upon me. Poo-poo the Pulitzer, Na-na the Nobel; this, my friends is the Weekly! Yes, I am intimidated. Especially after last week’s weekly with feet and inches and everything. She just HAD to do one that untoppable before handing me the reins! Well, I won’t try to top it. Instead, I will attempt a rapid flanking movement. But will I shrink from this? No! Because I have already received one intimidating email message from Dan who has threatened to come over here and “take his shirt off.” Now, I don’t think he intends violence, but I have seen Dan with his shirt off, so I’m typing for all I’m worth.  

Of course, half the battle (may I use military analogies? Thank you.) is finding a suitable topic, and I did not have to look far or for long. I did not have to look at all. It came to me. Several times. On TV.  

So, it’s late at night and I turn on the TV to see the news. Or at least hear news people talk about things. Not to say that there aren’t some serious things going on in the world, but what people talk about! Just don’t get me started. Anyway, I turn on the TV and there’s this commercial for this tarot-reading psychic. She’s on every channel most of the time. Now, I have to be careful here. People get litigous (as in law suits) for silly things these days (like defamation of character, things like that), so I got out my Weekly decoder ring and came up with a name to call her so you will all know who I’m talking about and she won’t, even though she’s psychic. Let’s call her Miss Fleo.  

Miss Fleo has been on TV for some time now, and I’ve often wondered about her. Not just the usual about can she really do that stuff or not. No, I’m talking about the things I’d really like to know. Like, how does she answer all those calls? I mean, with all that advertising on national TV (which, I understand, is expensive), how does she make enough money, one call at a time? And the first three minutes are free! Mental scenario:
“Hallo, Miss Fleo here.”
“Uh, Hi. This is Dave from Sacramento.”
“I ha’ ben waitin’ for dis call all day!”
“Oh, really? You mean, you knew I was going to call?”
“Yas, mon, some tings are special, an’ I knew you was gonna call ’cause I got a special message fo’ you!”
“Okay, what is it? I can’t wait.”
“The ting you ha’ ben waitin’ all you life fo’ is about…”
–Please insert $10,000.00 for the next three minutes–  

How else could it work? Another thing. I think I saw her in a Robin Williams movie. Club Paradise I think it was called. I guess she could be an actress and a psychic, too, but it does make you wonder.  

But could I leave it at that, not really knowing? Not when there’s a Weekly to be done. So, I got on the internet and I found out some interesting things. First, I found a web page that was just an ad, but linked to it was a testimonial from a “former sceptic.” Okay, so maybe I shouldn’t have put that in quotes denoting scepticism, but then, I’m not a “former” sceptic. As I read, my scepticism did not diminish. This guy had Miss Fleo on his radio call-in show where the conversations were taped for her commercials. Nothing wrong with that, but this guy’s name was Bert. Well, there’s nothing really wrong with that, either. It’s just that his show is called The Bert Show. More questions arise. Like, what happened to Ernie? Is this guy what’s left of the famous Sesame Street duo, gone the way of Lewis and Martin? Was this an amiable parting, or was there the rancor and guile of the typical show-biz split? Was it the hit record (“Rubber Duckie” WAS a hit record, you know)? What led to the Bert show, and can the last man standing in a limelight brouhaha be at all trusted? But there’s more.  

He testifited to her amazing abilities. For example, Miss Fleo’s response to one caller: “You take things too personally. How ’bout the woman you had an argument with at the gas station three days ago?” He doesn’t cite the rest of the conversation: “You know, the one with the Jamaican accent who cut in front of you in line ’cause she had to get to the radio station and make her expensive ad.” Bert goes on. “How about when she told a woman to take that crumpled piece of paper off the dresser?” Crumpled paper on a dresser? How could that be? Egads. If she were to tell me that, I’d have to ask, “Which piece of crumpled paper? A recent one or one that’s been there for three months or more?” At this point I must remind the reader that it is at great personal risk that I write this, because my wife reads the Weekly, and she is (rightfully) not amused by the crumpled pieces of paper on my dresser. Anyway, Bert, crumpled paper! Miss Fleo even knew that Bert’s wife had broken her right foot on their honeymoon. Thankfully, she left out the details of that sordid little story. He went on to tell of Fleo’s anguished life of constantly hearing voices. I don’t doubt that she hears voices. I hear voices, too. My inner voice says, “Clean off your damn dresser.” No, wait, that may have been an outer voice.  

Anyway, Bert may be sold, but not me! I did some more internet research and ran across this news headline (for real):
08/08/01 Miss (F)leo ordered to pay $75,000 for calling Missourians after warning from Nixon. Really, that’s what it said. Which kind of explains the torturing voices. Crank calls from Nixon from beyond. The headline sounds like Nixon warned Miss Fleo about something and she called a bunch of people in Missouri. That was a mistake. You know, Missouri, the “show me” state. None of that crumpled paper crap. Well, it turns out that it was Jay Nixon, the Attorney General of Missouri, enforcing a No Call anti-telemarketing law in that state. I like my version better, but the truth is the truth. Nixon did have a cool quote, though, about the fine. “Miss (F)leo should have seen this coming.” I wish our AG was cool like that.

The one thing I didn’t do in my research was call her number. I’m already seeing a therapist, who needs to add an exorcist to the budget?  

That’s all. Jaimie will be back next week. Thanks. I had fun.  

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The one about the Lady who Sneered at me
October 16, 2001

hi kids,  

first order of business: there is a new member to add to the Spy Club (sorry, no cool name for it yet). john “little fish guy” gromko gave me a book of useless facts which seems to be chock full of information about useless, interesting topics.  so if ever i send out a weekly that seems to be about a useless topic (ha), has proper grammar (oh) , and answers a complete thought (huh?), well, now you know where i will have ganked it from.  thanks john!  john’s new spyclub nickname is Captain Van Racecar. use it well.  

er, once again i’d just like to say that um, although i do like getting free stuff, it isn’t necessary to gimmie sumpin’. unless of course, you want a cool spy name. in which case, gimmie sumpin’.  i mean, basically this weekly thing is free.  
moving on.  

ok so this week is kinda rough. i don’t have anything planned and that scares me so instead of something neat and cool i’ll just have to rant about a few things.  

first rant: the one about the moron (some people refer to morons as “customers”. tomato, tomahto) i talked to at work.
*telephone ring*
“kelly signs”
“uh yes this is *insert stupid name here* from *insert name of important factory that sadly keeps this town alive* and i need to know if you have magnetic signs that i can stick on some blah blah blah…”
“yes sir, we even have the magnetic material in stock.”
“yeah, but can you make a sign that’s like a magnet on the back? so it will stick to blah blah…”
“yes sir, the magnetics is like a, um, huge magnet.”
“yeah, but is it a sign?”
*mental sigh* “yes sir, it is a magnetic sign.”
“well do you have them?”
“ye-es.”
“ok, well i need 5 magnetic signs that say…blah blah”
“do you know what size you need?”
“ok, who am i talking to?”
huh? “er, i’m jaimie.”
“ok, janie, i need the signs to be 12 inches by 12 inches square.”
“alright, and what colors would you like?”
“colors? um, well first off, i need the signs to be 12 inches by 12 inches square.”
didn’t he just tell me that? “ok, and what color do you need the copy?”
“uh, just black letters and make ’em as big and bold as you can ok?”
and now’s the part where i repeat the order to make sure i have all the information.
“sure.  so you need 5 magnetic signs 1ftx1ft with black copy?”
“what? NO! that’s the wrong size!!!”
“oh, well, i thought you wanted…”
“NO! that size is wrong. i need the signs to be 12 inches by 12 inches square!”
oh. my. god. 
“um, i see. 12″x12″. er, my…mistake?”  

someone isn’t wearing their Thinking Cap are they?  

huh?!  i can only assume that his remedial engineering class used brightly colored yardsticks (inches only), and on the walls were motivational posters saying things like,
“Remember! Inches only!” and
“96 inches might be 8ft. but 96 sounds better!” or maybe
“always use inches instead of feet, cause everyone knows that feet stink!” 
wow. i made that up.  how sad.  

so yeah, the guy freaked out when i used feet instead of inches.  that’s really strange.  i should have asked him, “do you need those signs 12” long? or 12″ tall?” he probably would have had a seizure.  well, enough about morons.  

now let’s make fun of old people.  

second rant: the one about the old lady who sneered at me and my fabulous pink hair.  

ok, so i’ve dyed my hair pink, right? no big deal.  it’s just not as brown as it used to be. now it’s got some brown and some pink. why pink, you ask?  i dunno, i just wanted some pink, no wait, i needed some pink.  look, i don’t get it either. anyway it’s pink and i’m loving it.   

now i’m not really the kind of person that likes to draw attention to herself.  i’m pretty quiet. i generally only speak when spoken to, and i am always polite…especially to older people.  it’s just how i was “conquistadored” by my parents.  has nothing to do with pink hair.   

ok, this is a small southern town i live in, these people don’t “cotton” to “radical” behavior or “punk” hair. and really, i’m not punk.  i don’t even have my ears pierced. i don’t even have the punk music.  i just wanted pink hair. and now i have short, spikey, pink hair.  and i’m lovin’ it.  but i had to really psyche myself up for any insults that might be thrown my way.  and trust me, i am completely cool with everything.  once mom and dad got all their good digs in i was ready for the world.  trust me, nobody can say anything to me now about my pink hair that ma and pa pickle haven’t already said (except for that snot-nosed kid at the grocery store, but that’s a different story).  

ok, so about a week into my pink hair i have to stop and gas up the jeep.  and i stop at one of the regular gas stations or “fillin’ stations” as some are prone to call them, and i get my gas and go inside to pay for it and there’s a line.  of course.  

so i’m about 5th in line and this old lady is 3rd in line she looks at me and i smile back ’cause y’know, polite, and you know what she does? she sneers and shakes her head and then does this weird mouth thing…  like she’s swallowed the last sip of a warm beer.  i mean, is the pink hair that bad? it produces a reaction in the tastebuds?  

ok, that’s fine. i mean, my feelings aren’t hurt or anything. in fact i wanted to laugh my…socks off. because this old lady is wearing a white, longsleeve shirt and a vest with different sized American flags plastered all over it.  and ok, that’s admirable, i have no problem with the flag, it’s cool. she’s got stark, white tennis shoes on and navy blue, um, culottes.  culottes!!! i mean, these are honest to god culottes, not capri pants.  er, they were tight at the knee so’s the material, y’know, like, bunched out… like horse riding pants you see in the movies?  are you with me here?  and the best part (i know) is that she’s got these red, white, and blue striped tights from the knees down.  gheederp?  

i love this country.  i mean, where else can you dress up like a clown and still have the nerve to show such disgust at something as hideous and bitter-tasting as my pink hair? ah, proudly we hail…
(that was for you tami)  

i was trying to come up with a way to make fun of canada somehow in that last paragraph and it felt too “pushed”. so i didn’t use it. you win this round, canada! next time you won’t be so lucky.  

well, that’s it for this week.   

one other thing. i will be out of town all next week and so you weren’t going to get a weekly.  and then i thought, well, i could just write an extra one now and have mom or dad send it out on tuesday, but trust me, it would never happen. not only can i not write more than one of these a week, but mom’s the kind of person that you could hand her the calculator and ask her to change the TV channel and she’d try. and then she’d study the calculator and point it back at the TV and try again.  and then she’d press the buttons harder because we all know if you press the button harder it will force the electricity to “make it work”.   

ok, actually, mom’s pretty internet savvy.  she’s got her own e-mail and everything.   

dad on the other hand, would not fall for the calculator-TV trick. he’s a dude. he can work the TV and the VCR.  however, he’s not quite as “good” at the internet.  i can imagine me getting a phone call,
“um, jaimie i tried to send out the weekly.”
“hey great! how’d it go?”
“um, well, i clicked the thing with the envelope and then this screen popped up and it was a screen that has never popped up before and it told me to click on something and then so i clicked it but it didn’t do anything.”
“um, so did you send the weekly?”
“well, i couldn’t find it but then this other screen popped up and asked if i wanted to delete the folder? is it a folder?”
“what? is what a folder?”
“so then the screen went blank and i didn’t touch anything i swear.  it just went blank.”
“it went bl-“
“so i pressed the “reset” button but that didn’t do anything.”
“the reset-“
“so i pressed it harder, but you know, it just didn’t work and so i’m not sure if the weekly was sent out or not. hey you want some pancakes on sunday?”
“pancakes? um, yes. i would love some pancakes on sunday.”  

sorry mom and da.  but that was for all the “cockadoodledoos”.   

ANYWAY. 
don’t panic.  you guys WILL be getting a weekly next week. i have a substitute teacher for you guys.  actually, he’s a REAL teacher so you can be rest assured that you won’t have to do “busy work” for an hour.  so you kids behave for meester finlayson! i mean it.  

and i’m so excited!  ’cause that means that next week i’ll get a weekly too!  i wonder what it’s gonna be about? eeeep! exciting!  

next week’s eptomb: mr. finlayson compares and contrasts the Walter Mitty and Hrothgar. or maybe something else. who knows?  

jaimie “i just like saying Hrothgar” pickle
i like ‘mead hall’ too.  

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Tags: rant, sign shop

The One About Quakers and Shakers
October 10, 2001

hi kids, firstly, thanks to all of those who wished the weekly a happy 100th birthday! er, i mean, a happy 1st birthday!

secondly, this is probably the longest, most boring weekly i’ve ever sent, and for that i’m sorry.  i didn’t want to split it into two separate weekleez because by next week i would have been bored with the subject and would have wanted to write about something else, heck, anything else. so anyway, sorry about the length.

thirdly, i’ve got to “shout out” to some “peeps”. word!  i would like to thank leslie “i like the wizard of oz” martin for ganking some kind of “milkshake” type thing for me that’s supposedly easy on the tummy and chock full of protein, so’s i won’t die from eating oatmeal.  thanks les! and keep up that 5 finger discount!  also, i’d like to thank andy “magic bus” powell for buying me some Oatmeal For Girls.  thanks andy! that’s the sweetest thing ever.  you two are the first members of the “give something cool to jaimie and get a cool nickname” spy club, which will have a cooler name as soon as i can think of one.  er, look for it on the website soon. andy’s new nickname (code-name) is “mr. beard”.  and you must wink your right eye as you say “mr. beard” to give it that really secret code-name kinda look. leslie’s nickname is “mademoiselle montague” but her friends call her “mad monte”.

now, i don’t want any of you to think that i’m doing all of this just to get loads of free stuff or anything.  because if there’s one thing i don’t need, it’s loads of free stuff, or me having to “come up with” tons of cool spy names.  but you know, if you do want a cool spy name, now you know how to get one. right, moving on.

some of you weekly readers had mentioned to me that i needed a message board on the site so’s that all of you can talk back and forth and meet each other and basically get into trouble.  and so, since the weekly recently turned 100 years old, um, 1 year old, the lovely peeps at kNETics set up such a place for all of you to meet and greet and make much mayhem.  so have fun! (the link is at the end of the weekly).

ok, finally the weekly can “start”.

so after i sent out The One About Oatmeal i received an e-mail from my cousin, erick “an engineer type person” allen, who hails from the grand state of “ohio”.  his e-mail was basically him wanting to know the difference between Quakers and Shakers.

now, i know some of you are wondering why anyone would ask me a question about antiquated religious sects. well, in this case, cousin erick did the right thing by asking me that question.  because y’see, i eat at least one bowl of instant quaker oats everyday and i figure if that doesn’t make me a full card carrying quaker then it at least makes me an expert on all things quaker. AND since shaker rhymes with quaker, obviously i’m an expert on shakers too.  and sure i’m just a “self-proclaimed” expert, but that’s better than not being an expert at all. and what i mean by that is, do not believe a word i say.

since i am also the Queen of the Mad Researching Skillz (also self-proclaimed), i figure i won’t lead you guys too astray in what i’d like to call:

The One About Quakers and Shakers for Normals, Half-wits, and Cousin Erick

the Quakers were invented in England in the mid 1600s. there were all kinds of things going on in England during this time and most of it had to do with the civil war and social revolutions.  and at this time the Quakers were a loose group and had no specific goals and were harassed as being “radical puritans”.  yeah i know. oxymoron.

meanwhile there was another loose group of “radical puritans” who called themselves the Seekers. and seeing as how both of these groups had no direction and were unhappy with the Church of England, they decided to band together.  and under the guidance of George Fox (the “father of quakerism”) they now had a unified ideal and goals.  this newly formed group called themselves the “Camp of the Lord”  but we call them “Quakers”, and they lived in a communal atmosphere (hippies) and did loads of missionary work. they would call their new converts, “the Children of Light”. in 1660, the English monarchy was restored and so was the church, and so the Quakers were persecuted and mostly imprisoned.  during this time they started to refer to themselves less and less as the Camp of the Lord and more and more as the “Society of Friends” which is what they call themselves today.  they became more strict and simple in their ways of life, and they moved to the New World.  in the 1800s the Quakers split into 3 groups.  and no one cares, so we’ll move on.

now the Shakers were invented in the mid 1700s in Manchester, England.  they were first called the “Shaking Quakers”.  because they would, y’know, shake during their services.  a wee bit later they were considered “radical” because they would shake and commune with the spirits of the dead. tomato, tomahto.
as one can imagine, the Shakers were then pretty much persecuted by everyone. the first Shaker leader was a dude named James Wardley and he was all into millennial french prophets.  but no one cared. the next Shaker leader was a freaky chick named Ann Lee.  now, i’m not going to call her a total wack-job or anything, because who am i to judge, right? but let’s just say she was “kinda loony”.  and seeing as how she grew up a child laborer in the textile mills and then had 4 kids who all died very young, well, i mean, maybe there’s a reason she was crazier than an outhouse rat, y’know?

anyhoo, “Mother” Ann would see all kinds of visions, and Christ often spoke to her. and one day, whilst doing a stint in prison, she had a “revelation”.  turns out, she was the Second Coming of Christ and was the “vital female component” of “God the Father-Mother”.

now, i wouldn’t go so far as to say, non compos mentis, here or anything, mainly because i have no idea what that means, but it does make me question what kind of mold was growing on her bread at the time.

it was shortly after Mother Ann’s revelation that the Shakers moved to the New World (1774).  and let’s just say that in America, the Shaker movement went over like a lead balloon. a crazy, demented, misguided, lead balloon.

ok, back to the Quakers. now the Quakers were a simple folk, loyal and honest, hard working, and simple.  they believed that everyone has an inner light, and that the light is from Christ and that the simpler your life is the easier it is to focus on the light.  they were also big into experiences.  they felt that it was more important to experience God than it was to accept the words and practices that had been decided upon by other churches.  and since everyone has an inner light, they didn’t see any point to racism, sexism, or any other intolerable-ism.  also, they opposed war and the death penalty.  a quiet, peaceful folk to say the least.

right, now the Shakers. the Shakers also preferred first-person religious experiences as well as simplicity in their daily lives.  another very firm, strict belief was their emphasis on celibacy.  in fact, they were wicked-emphatic about it. even married couples were not allowed to, you know, be not celibate.  Mother Ann did come up with a very complicated theological reason for the celibacy thing, but most people think that she made up the rule ’cause she was stark, raving mad.
another example of Mother Ann’s unbalanced, schizomania was the theory of not a holy trinity, but a holy duality, where there was a male and female, god father-mother.  and while i could go on and on, making fun of “Crazy Ma Ann” has become tiresome and boring.

as of today, there are about 500,000 Quakers all over the world and doin’ their thang. the Shakers on the other hand, well, what with that whole “celibacy thing” um, er, well, there are less than 10 Shakers today.  and uh, even they aren’t “real” Shakers.  they’re more like a tourist attraction.  kinda like the Amish, and of course, nothing like the Amish.

the thing that gets me is that i read all this stuff about Quakers and not one article told me why they were called Quakers in the first place.  and it seems odd that everyone else calls them Quakers but they call themselves everything BUT Quakers.  what’s the deal with that? “camp of the lord”? “seekers”? “society of friends”?  who came up with ‘quaker’ anyway? and also there was no mention of oatmeal either.  what’s the deal? where is all the useful quaker information hidden?

a little FYI, Mother Ann Day (i’m serious) is celebrated (by who? i don’t know) on the first Sunday in August. they sing songs, dance, and have Mother Ann cake. and of course, no sex.

next week’s epitomb: Oatmeal For Girls

jaimie “quakers? shakers? never heard of ’em” pickle

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