The dig itself was not publicized in order to avoid the usual crowd of gawkers who
congregate around heaps of trash.  Back hoes removed the first thirty feet of
“garbage” (clam shells, coke bottles etc.) before the serious work began. The
gardener was not “squatting” over the compost depositing a bowel movement when

when he noticedthe first tablet as Snoop asserted. Nor did he dig through "reeking
filth” with his bare hands. (Some people will say anything to get their name in the
paper.) In any case, what you see at left is the first stone slab
recovered at the site.
It was found at a depth of 37 feet by a grad student
who thought his spade struck a
rock beneath his feet. Subsequently retrieved and cleaned of its accumulated layers
of filth, the ‘rock’ turned out to be a genuine stele replete with Mayan hieroglyphics
recording the details of a migration of pilgrims from the coastal lowlands of
Guatemala in the 15th century B.C.

In effect, it contained the specific particulars of the flight of Kukulkan from his
homeland to the distant shores of the western “New World.”  So remarkably well
preserved was the tablet that some of the original paint still adhered to the two
figures you see at the base.  And these two figures now form the topic of an
intensely heated scholarly debate.  
They reveal a remarkable resemblance in form
with few exceptions. The text on the stele identifies Kukulkan on the left and a
previously unidentified Mayan noble, Ka-Ike, on the right.  But the two are also said
to be somehow one and the same.   
According to the text, tired out by the long and
arduous effort on behalf of his people, during which he built cities and all the rest,
kulhulkan slunk off for a well deserved rest to a location where no one would know
his whereabouts. Otherwise, he would have been pestered for life by every
schmuck who couldn’t tie up his own sandals. As you can see, both figures are
white, bearded and have very developed noses.  Apparently, the older Kukulkan got,
the bigger his nose became or perhaps it grew because he spent his retirement
sticking his nose into other people’s
business.  Furthermore, if this remarkable
circumstance proves to be correct, it
would help to explain the origin of the
Gadzookian culture and the impressive Ka-Ikian monoliths which dot the landscape
of the Greater Mojave Desert.
Known for his
dismissal of orthodox
beliefs Okie Jimmie is
the inventor of Ejective
Trance Technology, a
process for re-covering
the content of brains of
the deceased.
Doktur Alfreodor Zzyzx, editor of The Journal of Post-Modern Digs, has revealed today the source for his extraordinary claim that the hitherto
accepted historical account of the ancient Mayan cultural hero known as Kukulkan is simply incomplete. Based on new information gleaned from
seven stone tablets recently exhumed by an employee at the La Casa Sanitarium in Irvine, Dr. Zzyzx now believes Kukulkan was, in reality, one of the
earliest settlers to have discovered what is now Orange County.  Until now, most authorities concerned with Mayan antiquities had accepted the
traditional interpretation which held that Kukulkan founded cities, law, religion, writing, the calendar, agriculture etc.--and then simply vanished.  
Curiously, he was said also to be white, bearded and big nosed.  Were it not for the tireless efforts of an underpaid Mexican gardener with the long-
winded name of Moctecuzoma Xochiquetzal Itzcoatl Habaniero Y Yolanda, this colorful historical BS would have remained undisputed.  The initial
account of the discovery of the tablets appeared in the Van Nuys Ad-Venture, a scrofulous rag devoted to pilfering and regurgitating the offal news
from others. On June 11, the notorious muckraker, SS Snoop the scoop, wrote that an unidentified farm worker ‘somewhere in California’ dug the
tablets out of a compost pile with his hands.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  In fact, the kitchen midden where the stones were found was
long suspected of being archaeologically significant due to its location and long period of use. Situated in a natural sump which once served as a
cistern for the collection of rain water, the midden had recently been probed by archaeologists from the University of California (Irvine) who were
aware of its established antiquity.  
The Van Nuys Nose Ad-Venture                                                                                                                                     June 16, 2009
The Ears,  Eyes and Tongue of Van Nuys

Archaeologist Drops Time Bomb: Startling Discovery Corroborated
Another article by Gedit Wright, Ace Reporter
Jack Dofft, President of the Rotary Club of Greater Van Nuys, announced today that Oklahoma Jimmie (The Squid) has
been named entrepreneur of the year for the Van Nuys Chapter due to his remarkable business acumen and the flexibility
he has shown in developing his financial enterprise during the recent devastating recession. Capitalizing on a loathing for
paper work and the public’s propensity for procrastination, Jimmie has captured the imagination of the local population
with a dazzling display of innovation rarely seen by those without severely corrected night vision. His career began, as
you know, with a single minded application of the principle that a sucker is born almost every minute, so why not profit
from the obvious?  Jimmie’s first love, his string of Palm Reading / Crystal Ball Emporiums, opened to little fanfare
during the Reagan Years (although Nancy was known to be a frequent client) but Jimmie’s expansion into Thrift Shops,
Bail Bonds, Notary Public activities, Pizza by the piece delivered air mail, and Medical Marijuana distributed by carrier
pigeon has earned him the adulation of Young Republicans all across the state. This year’s Rotary Club celebration will
be held at the estate of Doktur Alfreodor Zzyzx, Emeritus Professor of Physical Anthropology at Chihuahua Community
College, long recognized as a silent business partner and supervisor of Jimmie’s paranormal operations south of the
border (porque Jimmie no sabe Spanish.) There are those, however, who consider this year’s choice of Jimmie to be,
how shall I say, “unwise” because he is suspected of being the brains behind a notorious scam to foist off broken
tombstones as rare Mayan antiquities…       
The shadowy Doktur A. Zzyzx, editor of The Journal of Post-Modern Digs, announced today that he recently
received a mysterious anonymous manuscript reporting the discovery and interpretation of a series of stone
tablets purportedly containing ancient Mayan hieroglyphs.  According to the anonymous author, these rare and
unprecedented tablets were discovered by a gardener in Southern California.  It is said that he was squatting
over his compost heap, making his daily contribution, when he noticed the corner of a stone slab emerging from
the scattered offal.  Undeterred by the reeking filth, he began digging with his bare hands and quickly uncovered
seven tablets, each containing relief carvings of figures and hieroglyphic writing.  According to the manuscript
author, he was contacted by the gardener and asked to provide expert analysis of the authenticity of the tablets,
a translation of the hieroglyphs, and an identification of the depicted figures.  Although the manuscript is still
under review by the Journal, and the Editor unwilling to release copies to the media, your intrepid reporter was
able to manage a brief unauthorized perusal of its contents. In sum, the manuscript asserts that the depicted
figures are Kukulkan (an ancient Mayan culture hero and wind deity) and Ka-Ike (apparently a little-known
licentious slubberdeguillon whose visage has been found scattered throughout the Mojave and Anza-Borega
deserts of Southern California).  It is further argued that the two are one and the same--that Kukulkan became
Ka-Ike and settled in what is now known as Orange County.  
Blog of Greater Van Nuys On Line                                                                                              Thursday, June 11, 2009        
Amazing Discovery or Fraud?      
The hieroglyphic writing is said to consist largely of a description of the ritual process by which this transformation was achieved. By way of
background, it should be briefly noted that in Mayan tradition Kukulkan was a bearded white man who appeared mysteriously from the west in about
the tenth century, and after founding cities, laws, religion, the calendar, writing, agriculture etc., disappeared to the west.  Although the available
codices provide relatively few details of his appearance, he was described as having a remarkably long and elaborate foliated proboscis and, as a deity,
was typically depicted with a serpent's body, quetzal's plumes, jaguar's teeth, and a human head in his jaws, seated on the cross-shaped symbol of the
four directions.  As the personification of wind, he was also known (quite favorably it should be emphasized) for his verbalistic  excesses, logo rhea,
and flatulence. Much of the manuscript focuses on details regarding translation of hieroglyphs and a "spirituous symbosophic perturbation' of the
prominent similarities embodied in Kukulkan and Ka-Ike. Although many facts concerning the provenance of these alleged tablets and their
significance is yet to be determined, this wily and  skeptical reporter does harbor certain suspicions.  It seems quite likely, for example, that the
anonymous author is none other than that fraudulent impostor Oklahoma Jimmie and that the unidentified gardener is the prolix chiseler known as
Eucalyptus Ike (long alleged to be one of the many bastard progeny of Ka-Ike).  If these two muckworms are indeed involved it is almost certain to
be an elaborate dramaturgic hoax intended to enrich their coffers.  Be assured dear readers that Snoopy Snoop is on the case and will not rest until the
full truth is revealed.  We have not heard the last of this tale. [Unfortunately that is so.]
Chapter Nine: The Van Nuys Adventure
The Van Nuys Nut Cracker: An Ad-Venture                                         June 15, 2009
"The Eyes, Nose and ears of Van Nuys"

                                                                June 19, 2009
[A Supplement to the Van Nuys Nose Ad-Venture]
Edited by Dick Klicket

Local Crank Detained for Snake Snatch

Agents representing the Department of Homeland Security today successfully tracked down and arrested the
notorious poacher and underworld black-marketeer Snake (The Toad) Pliskum, for infractions of the
Endangered Species Act.  The Snake was taken down without incident in a seedy bar near the Burbank
Commercial Airport known as The Five-S (Shithouse Sally’s Sucker Snacks ‘n’ Suds) where he was caught
enjoying ‘Sherry,’ one of the tawdry specialties of the house…Traveling incognito in his turbo-charged Chevy
Herpit, Snake was apparently taking a break during a delivery of green rattle snakes he had recently trapped and
molested somewhere along the Mojave Trail.
According to Dork Whippet, who led the raid into Shithouse Sally’s,
the Snake was also wanted for questioning about his role in a plot by
a local Men’s Fashion House suspected of manufacturing a new line
of men’s hats from the stuffed skins of rare snakes.  When the
authorities opened the trunk of Snake’s garishly decorated Chevy
Herpet, they were not surprised to find it filled with some really big
wigglers (see photo) including some bulging boas and several
exceedingly rare Green Rattlers whose poison is considered by some
to be especially toxic.  When questioned about the hoard of slithery
critters on board, Snake replied that he was merely the naive victim
of somebody’s cruel practical joke. Local residents have been warned
to keep pets indoors and obtain snake bite kits because not all the
critters were successfully rounded up after the tricky trunk
On-Line Blogosphere @ Van Nuys                                                                                June 18, 2009, 1:41 PM
Note found on Potty’s Billboard:  “Post notes at your own risk…”

Dear Loyal Readers:

I am taking this brief respite from my gizmo-phenomenal reportage to update all devoted blog subscribers on some vile rumors that may have come to
your attention.  Indeed, it is the case that the Society for Prevention of Intercourse Outside of One's Own Species (SPIOOOS) has launched a vicious
rumor-mongering campaign designed to besmirch my pristine reputation for scrupulous moral rectitude.  There is no question about the source of this
outrageous attack.  It stems directly from my unprecedented and exclusive coverage of the recent 'art exhibit', "Herpets I have Known and Loved", by
the ill-famed percept thespian known as Ugh Toad.  In his most recent show he lay prone on a filthy-icky decomposing orange velvet sofa for 3 days
constantly masturbating while peering intently at a soiled black and white photograph of a Mojave Green.  This snake is well-known for its "Mojave
Toxin" which is especially dangerous as it acts on both the nervous system and the vascular system.  Apparently, it can be distinguished from the
more common Diamondback Rattler by counting the number of scales between their eyes.  The drying sperm on Ugh Toad's forehead was symbolic
of this distinguishing characteristic.  As noted in my review, which first appeared in the prestigious periodical Artsy Fartsy, Ugh Toad seems to be
making a cognate conjunction between the biological processes involved in venom production and sperm production, a recurrent theme in his efforts
to sanctify perversion.  SPIOOOS, as usual, has ignored my deft scholarly insights and sought to use that timeworn spurious strategy of yoking
messenger with message.  They have even gone so far as to suggest that my noted totemic turtle collection is conclusive evidence of my own
amorous propensities.  I  also suspect that somewhere lurking behind this attempt to distract and ultimately silence your courageous reporter is that
crypto-Nazi pig-fucker, Oklahoma Jimmie.  His public advocacy of the 'mammaliaphilia principle'  (i.e., God says that as long as it's another mammal

it's OK, but snakes and lizards represent  mortal sin.  I
t seems a bit odd that this untutored loutish gardener seems to be the only one to unearth
treasurers while the hordes of highly trained anthropologists hovering over this site find only chicken bones and moldy dog turds.  Stay tuned.

Yours Truly, Snoopy Scoop
Dear Loyal Readers:
With my usual impeccable canniness I have been able to obtain privileged access to a photograph of
the most recent artifact found at the Kukulcan/Ka-Ike dig site. Apparently, scholars are still hotly
debating the validity and significance of this find [no question about it] but it appears to have
something to do with the droll martyrdom of the young Ka-Ike on the so-called 'Blithe Tree of Eternal
Bunkum'. The roughly crafted piece is solid gold, with a partial inlaying of silver and selectively seven
inches in height and has tiny emeralds scattered along some of the branches, presumably illustrative of
leaves. The Ka-Ike figure is just over 7 inches in height with rubies for eyes, diamonds for teeth, and
inlays of silver dots down the chest, arms and legs. It is speculated that this object may be related to
the myth in which Ka-Ike climbed a tree to get a better look at some naked women bathing in a nearby
stream and in his excitement got his dick stuck in a large knothole filled with killer bees. To extricate
himself he had to make an unholy bargain and sell his soul to the infamous sorcerer Treebeard. Thus
began the tree-worshipping cult which has survived down the generations to its current manifestation
as the tree-creed-crud of a local Irvine resident, the pseudonymous Eucalyptus Ike. As always, I will
provide updated info as quickly as it becomes available…

Yours truly, Snoopy Scoop
On-Line Chat Room for S. Scoopy @ Van Nuys Ad-Venture Dit Com
Posting:  June 22, 2009, 2:14 PM
Van Nuys Office                                                   June 22, 2009
To:  Odd Jim Dotty
Subject:  Fuzzy Request

The recent photo we received from you titled "Scavengers of Gravity at
the Event Horizon" caused the usual stir of our collective downside chili
pods, as we rotated it this way and that to assess the multiple variations
of perspective your work deserves.  We believe we have made positive
ID's for the 'Snail/Whale' and 'Hermetic Shaman' and possibly the
'Talebearer Turtle' but are still struggling with the birdies... Possibly this
is due to the quality and size of the photo we received, which at 302,000
bytes won't fit on our crummy computer monitors. Either the image is
too big to see the whole event horizon or when we scale it down is too
fuzzy to see the fine detail.  Needless to say we are all experiencing
clammy hands and feverish brows as we struggle to correct for our
professional and moral deficiencies...Naturally, we have not experienced
similar symptoms with respect to the artifact from the Kukulcan/Ka-Ike
thing-a-ma-diggie.  As you know, we will do what we can to verify the
authenticity of this rare tale of tenebrous testicular tragi-dactic
tribulation....which we have at present no reason to dispute.
On-Line Scam Notifications@ Jimmie’s Publication Enterprises        
June 22, 2009, 4:06 PM

Some quidnunc has recently and rudely brought to my attention the pathetic efforts of that opprobrious dabbling spermophile Ugh Toad [sputter
sputter] to intrude on the unique and distinctive fashion empire which I have so diligently developed in distinction to the wasteland of garb and swath
that passes for [the usual crudely] acceptable gentleman's apparel.  I am told that he is now preparing to put on the market what is termed a "bona
fide snake skin line of customized condoms" featuring models such as "the Mohave Green Tickler," "the Reticulating Python," "the Fer-De-Lance
Venom Pit," etc.  I wish here to inform the discerning consumer that it is all a total fraud.  In fact, Ugh Toad has converted to mere laissez-fair cult
principles (i.e., If its laissez it must be fair) and has become a proselytizing apologist pig for the enduring values of monetary greed.  His so-called
'bona fide snake skin condoms' are, in fact, hand-painted pig guts fashioned by child slave labor in the back alleys of San Fernando.  Since these pig
guts come from feral sows that he shamelessly slaughters and then fucks (yes, in that order), it is also likely that they are infected with trichina
parasites and will infect any zipper snake that enters them with an exceptionally foul set of symptoms [sputter sputter etc.].  Buyer Beware.

Sincerely, Jimmie Walkabout
Dear Odd Jim,
Artsy Fartsy is considering for publication three of the works of the
promising young Peruvian painter InKa-DinKa Doti, whose efforts fall into
the Pixelmaniacs by Proxy of the Neo Zen Baptist Garage School Classics,
as you, I'm sure, are well aware.  But allow me to be clear. You see, we are
curious to know what you think about the abstruse implications of the tonal
and eternal a-tonal aspects of his craft. In short, do you suspect that his
work is unworthy of our August intellection?  We would be delighted to
hear what you might wish to say or otherwise convey about his initial
pictorial aspirations.  A kind word from you, his mentor, would no doubt
go a long way to launch the career of this "altiplano Antares," whose work
seems at present destined for little more than the usual superfluous
recognition.  In any case how is the work progressing on your latest
auspicious horizon?

Cordially,  AKA Khan, Editor in Chief
Enclosures: 1 of 3         
‘Gas Troll & Fart Whiff of InKa DinKa Doti’        
The Van Nuys Ad-Venture On-Line                   June 25, 2009
“The Ears, Eyes, Nose and Earlobes of Van Nuys”

Record Crowd Observes ‘Prince of Snake S-licker’

Hundreds of adoring fans turned out Monday at the Van Nuys Hip-O-Drome to
gawk at the bizarre antics of a sect of herpa-philiacs competing for the title of
“Ersatz Prince of Snake S-lickest.”  While three local rock bands hammered out a
continuous cacophony of hip pulsating buggie, and mobs of L.A.’s half-naked
denizens frolicked in brazen and ludicrous folly in the bleachers, a score or more of
the sect’s most notorious and sexy snake charmers gyrated pelvis while performing
their copious ritual offensives, in pot high hopes of capturing the sect’s coveted
scale covered crown. Hours later, after intimidating the rest of the competition with
a series of eye-popping pelvic lunges, the notorious snake charmer Toad Pliskum
established a new world record for the ‘Rattle Snatch and Jerk Off,’  said to be the
epitome of spermacious rascal dazzle possible under the venomous circumstances.  
Paramedics were called to the scene on at least four occasions during the riotous
reaction of the crowd after the fully aroused performer hurled 19 agitated
rattlesnakes into the bleachers. At least twenty-seven of the least agile onlookers
had to be treated with anti-venom medications due to side affects they sustained
during the festivities. Caught in the act of rattle sucking above, the signed photo of
Toad Pliskum went on sale at the venue for $25 a pop.  Proceeds for the event
were said to go exclusively to the performers, who denied any inclination to assign
a portion of the profits to charity.    
You decide to ignore this unpleasantness to fulfill your professional duties, and slip down the isle unobtrusively within a wave of slithering human
grunion to a seat built for a starving sardine up front.  There, you have a dismal view of the speaker’s platform on stage where the show takes place.  
After the shouting, pushing, fighting, and general hysterics around you are concluded, the grunion settle down to another round of pot, booze and
drugs before the lights turn down.  As “Thus Spake Zarathustra” tumbles monstrously out of twenty deafeningly loud speakers, a shadowy figure

wearing some kind of death mask for a crayfish trots out to the microphone.

He is draped in a black cape decorated with millions of colorful dots,
a soiled tux with a checkered cumber bun, and garish green suede Mexican
huaraches. The audience hisses and boos. Finally, he introduces himself as Doktur Alfreodor Zzyzx, Grand Imposter of Ceremonies, and former
Chancellor General of the Van Nuys Coven of U-FOP (United Federation of Psychics, obviously). The audience hisses and boos even more. Fifteen
minutes of verbose blizzard later, after mangling the English language into psycho-babble reminiscent of what comes out of the nozzle of an industrial
chipper shredder, Zzyzx introduces the Grand Poo Baw himself, the so-called internationally renowned spiritualist President of the Archeopneumatic
Restitution Association Epigraphic, the inventor of Ejective Trance Technology himself, the Honorable Oklahoma Jimmie (the Squid).

Jimmie enters from the wings between two bikini clad bimbos with the biggest exposed breasts I have ever seen and poses with the ‘knockers’ while
a bevy of fans take lewd photographs from the audience. Jimmie is wearing long red underwear with the flap down—nothing more---and his bony
butt resembles two abalone exposed on a blotchie rock at low tide.  Naturally, the gathering feel compelled to gird themselves for this wizardly
ludicrous performance with another round of pot, booze and drugs, some of which are passed up to Jimmie and the wonky broads to prep them for
the catastrophes ahead.  Jimmie’s performance consists of the following.  

With an obscene flourish, he sticks his nose out from between two enormous knockers and calls for his ‘apparatus’ to be towed onto the stage.  The
two scanks lean over and dangle their mammaries in front of Jimmie and then slink off stage.  They return dragging a clear glass table upon which are
placed a colorfully decorated box and the biggest turd known to man.  This turd must weigh about ten pounds or more and is so dry you can move it
around on the glass without leaving a stain.  Jimmie picks it up, raises it over his head, peers at the bottom intently for a few moments, and sniffs it,
before placing it back on the table.  Why, nobody knows.  Then Jimmie opens the box and hauls out a small clear crystal ball, the size of a softball,
and holds it upside down over the turd on the table.  Closing his eyes, he begins to mumble and chant; meanwhile the two bimbos are kneading
Jimmie’s buns while rocking forward and back on their heels causing their enormous (hey, why not just come out with it) tits--to rise and fall with
mesmerizing and ponderous intent.  Whether this is designed to distract the crowd or not is anybody’s guess. No matter.  

The stalk eyes of every mug in the audience are glued to the spectacle, crying out “Shake them hooters” until, mercifully, another chorus of “Thus
Spake Zarathustra” blares over the loudspeakers to effectively throttle down the noise. Jimmie opens his eyes and, holding the crystal ball over his
head, begins to prance and shuffle around the stage to the beat of the jouncing jugs, while the bimbos giggle and tweak each others nipples with long
painted finger nails. The grunion are practically ecstatic, parading up and down the isles goosing each other and copping feels like crazed Mackerel in
a shark tank. Suddenly, everything stops. The noise stops; the goosing stops; the scanks stop jiggling their boobs; and Jimmie stops prancing and
muttering.  The crystal ball rises from Jimmie’s hand, expands to a diameter of about fifteen feet and floats away over the crowd.  It is held up
seemingly by a set of gigantic fingers severed at the fist. And within the crystal an orbicular imp, an image of Jimmie, explodes into existence in the
blink of an eye.  

What can I say?  It was a show stopper, a jaw dropper, a veritable Wisenheimer guaranteed to shag every grunion in the place. It was a boxcar of
manure for sure, but it was “pure,” and so incredibly unexpected that the spell it cast dawned on the faces of the fascinated horde like the
concentrated aroma of barnyard bowels mingled with mackerel snot and chicken fried steak.  It was bullish, it was relish, it was oh so smellish that
you simply couldn’t resist the impulse to laugh.  The crowd was justifiably wowed, and every jerk off in the place simply went howling mad. There
were hoots, howls, whistles, shouts, screams, and every manner of giggle you could imagine. It was comedic heaven, the nirvana of joke, gag, yarn,
and tale; it was Paul without pity, blame, remorse, sin; it was the living Buddha emblazoned upon a prankster’s bubble, a fart without a backfire, a
goose so loose you needed no excuse to discern the flavor.  In short, it was simply God-like. And there wasn’t anything else to say…No one knows
what happened on the stage after that because everybody in the place left; the crowd went howling out onto the street, all the while yacking like some
bizarre river filled with quacking ducks, accosting everyone they met with the incredible story. Of course, it wasn’t very long before things outside
returned to normal; don’t ask me why. I guess that’s just the way it has to be…         
VIP Greets Fellow Scofflaws at Creep Fest
By Ace Reporter, Geddit Wright

One thinks after twenty-five years covering the news on the streets of greater
Van Nuys that one has ‘seen’ it all, at one time or another, but then one
discovers one is dead wrong: that one and one do not always necessarily make
two…A case in point plunged us again into the abyss of inanity just the other
day. Picture a beat up motion picture theatre converted into a seedy
convention center in the heart of old town, downtown,
Van Nuys, now
surrounded by pawn shops, bail bondsmen, grimy thrift stores and run down
flop houses.Then fill in the blanks with an appropriate collection of pan
handlers, prostitutes, homeless vagabonds, pimps, gang bangers, muggers,
garbage, flies and the usual automotive by-products abandoned amid some
really smelly piles of urban trash. Now imagine the dilapidated marquee of the
theater with its lettering blinking on and off erratically, its frayed letters
spelling out “Proceedings of the United American Federation of Psychics
meeting here today.” After you put on your “don’t fuck with me face,” and
check to see if your wallet is still secure in your pocket, you mosey up to the
ticket booth to confront the concrete crone who offers to sell anyone a ticket.  
You pay your dues and enter, only to find that the interior does not appear to
be any improvement over the exterior.
Dateline: The Schwarts-zinger Event Horizon
Astronomers at the Giant Maracaibo Radio Telescope announced today the
discovery of astonishing parasitic activity within the gravity well of a distant
black hole known as Scavenger 0-3947 located in the Crab Nebula. It
seems weird forms of life can in fact exist even within the crushing gravity
at the business end of a black hole bent on gobbling up galactic trash like
some monstrous version of a Hoover vacuum cleaner.  With incredibly
sophisticated new telemetry linking the earth-side observatory with the new
Magellanic Space Telescope, the staff at Maracaibo captured the image you
see here of a goggle-eyed creature attacking a formation known as a
Hermitic Shaman, itself busily attempting to absorb another critter referred
to as a ‘Semblant Owl.’  Dubbed the ‘Parasitic Snoggler,’ the creature
apparently invades the cosmic gas bags of its prey with probe-like snakelike
vorticles, which expand into worms that suck the squishy sogg out quicker
than you can crush a cricket’s dick with a brick.  (Whoever makes up this
stuff must boff his analyst, fer sure!) According to Ferdy Bagot,
astrophysicist for the project, how all this is possible is still anybody’s
guess, but that did not stop him from hazarding an explanation.“Just as
magnets repel each other,” according to Ferdy, “gravity is perhaps repelled
by anti-gravity; it could be just that simple. You see, the gravatron, the
smallest unit of gravity, is theoretically opposed by anti-gravitrons,
whenever the two are unexpectedly rammed together.  Otherwise, they
never get really close because they can’t stand each other at all. But, of
course, that hardly explains anything we really want to know.  If these
critters were somehow able to absorb, manufacture or store anti-gravitrons
in their gas bags --organs like anti-gravity life preservers--
"Parasitic Life Discovered in Distant Galaxy”
By Peggy Doobie, Van Nuys Venture Science Reporter                                                                                            June 29, 2009
they could evade the tremendous force of gravity responsible for sucking everything else down into the black hole.”   CERN’s Director of Collider
Missions, Jag Doffal, expressed a similar point of view.  “The storing of anti-gravitrons would be absolutely essential for any life form inhabiting the
vicinity of an event horizon. Otherwise, any form of intelligent existence would be impossible. Furthermore, since anti-gravitrons are the basis of the
economy, so to speak, they would be extraordinarily valuable, thus explaining why parasitic activity would occur in the first place.  If I can suck up
some of your anti-gravitons when you are not looking, I can increase my chances for survival and reproduction, while avoiding the squishy
consequences of drifting down into the crushing gravity below.”  

Somehow, it all seems to make sense to me…     
After fording a moat with an inflatable pontoon bridge, the ‘swaters’ plowed
through a crenellated outer wall, toppling a turret, with the latest siege equipment
mounted on the front of a German Half-Track, a WW II  Nazi Command Car like
the one used in “The Dirty Dozen”.  Security was tighter that a tick’s twat, so
the property was sealed off after the raid, and a clamp down was imposed on the
hundreds of neighbors and reporters clamoring to get a peek inside.  A statement
issued by Captain Moovis Bludgeon of the FBI, who led the raid, offered little
evidence of entertainment value, but the word on the street suggests Sid was
deeply invested in the illicit drug trade, along with the usual activities associated
with his less reputable business interests (male prostitution, money laundering,
tax evasion, the protection rackets and running guns to Mexican crime families
south of the border.) Bludgeon did, however, provide reporters with a photo of
the crime scene that you see to the left.
On-line                                                                                      July 3, 2009
Authorities today raided the palatial residence of the notorious Pot King of Van Nuys, Lucifer
DeBauch, also known locally as Sid the Spider, whose reputation for double dealing, back
stabbing and general mayhem is perhaps unparalleled in the annals of petty crime.  Caught literally
with his pants down in an unanticipated dawn raid upon his fortified base of operations, Sid was
removed from his gougie boudoir where the swat team found him passed out under a pile of
naked fags all apparently showing signs of extreme dissipation after a night of ‘homo-erotic’
indulgence.  Located in the Knob Hill section of “The Nuys,” Sid’s digs have long generated
curiosity among his neighbors due to a ‘peculiar persistent odor’ and their bizarre design (see
photo) which resembles a cross between the Bat Cave and a Giant Gothic Flop House (although
oddly similar to a structure that houses social discards on the grounds of the La Casa Sanitarium).
It now seems apparent that Sid had converted most of the upper floors of the residence into a very sophisticated pot farm some seven stories high.  
Every floor above the first was jammed full of hydroponic equipment, a ventilating system, powerful grow lights and thousands of marijuana plants
stacked on shelves all the way to the ceiling. At a photo shoot held after the raid, Moovis alleged that the authorities were tipped off to the scam by
the Department of Water and Power, whose billing department became suspicious after noticing a massive increase in the use of utilities at the site.  

One official declared Sid was using enough water to cool a 60 megawatt nuclear reactorand his electricity bill was equal to that of a 600 room
first class hotel. The farm yielded an estimated 275 tons of pot annually, which at $500 a pound generated $275,000,000.  Not a bad chunk of change
for a two-bit piker like Sid.  
Gomez (the Goner) Turner, a long time resident of the San Fernando Valley, amazed his neighbors
along Sh
allot Street this morning with the discovery of a giant Poblano Pepper emblazoned with
the image of an ancient Inca Lord.  Gomez, an avid fan of the back yard vineyard and vegetable
venue, was taken utterly by surprise when he plucked the monster pepper from a large healthy
plant and turned it over to admire his handiwork.  Imagine his reaction when he gaped at the
goober you see here.  After the neighbors got a whiff of the story, they notified Eureka Von
Duncical, a noted exoanthropologist who lives up the block, and she made a positive identification
of the figure as none other than InKa DinKa Dotti, who ruled a fabulous Peruvian Empire
centuries before its conquest by Pizarro’s greasy Spaniards.  Two theories seem to have surfaced
to explain the ‘miraculous’ event.  Gomez is convinced his fertilizer regimen is responsible for the
rare phenomenon. You see, Gomez uses only fresh chicken
manure and Peruvian bat guano on his
vegetables, which he hand feeds every six weeks. The mixture is dissolved in pure Rocky
Mountain spring water and distributed via an underground drip irrigation system. Theorist number
two is not the least impressed.  Toddie Whippet, who lives nearby, suspects Gomez has been
fooling around with his magnifying glass.  Whippet reported that Gomez once showed him a large
piece of optical glass he kept hidden in a strange box in the garage.  “It looked like a polished lens
from a Palomar telescope.”  Whippet believes Gomez scorched the image of InKa Dotti
                                    Our Pot Fits Any Size                                           July 4, 2009

              “Astonishing Image Discovered on Local Vegetable”
onto the pepper by focusing the rays of the sun through this peculiar lens, in order to draw attention to his illegal road side vegetable stand.  Whippet
says rumor around the neighborhood has it that Gomez grows other things in his back yard besides vegetables as well, things that people can smoke
and inhale. Perhaps Gomez got a little ‘too close’ to this crop.  What ever the case may be, Gomez plans to auction the pepper and each of its seeds
individually on EBay sometime later this week.  The bidding is expected to be intense because the pepper is said to be filled with a notorious spicy
mixture which Gomez won’t reveal.      
Unsung, unloved and justifiably unrecognized for most of his adult life, the invisible Peruvian artist
known as InKa-DinKa Doti has never attracted the attention of anyone at all, that is until two days
ago last week.  It seems an obscure faggoty magazine with the squalid and disingenuous moniker,
“Artsy Fartsy,” has discovered the ‘glorious achievement’ of this Altiplano Antares while the rest of
the art world was simply stone dead (drunk).  Call it what you will, but remember: you are going to
have to pay for it sooner or later.

With the usual rash exaggeration for which the Fartsy rag is identified, we are now led to believe that
a Titan of the Andes has consented to allow a few of his historically accurate scribblings to be sold at
Southy’s for quid.  Whether you could care less or not,
allow me to remind you that Inka Doti was
born in a ditch in the Andes and
has lived in un-mitigated and ignominious misery ever since.  Poor
and ugly to boot, Doti was forced to survive by stealing rancid potatoes and yams in order to eke out
a meager living.  Turning to art as a solace for the desperate poverty all around him, InKa Doti
actually mixed his own piss with crushed flowers to manufacture his first paint, figuring his career
had to be all uphill from there.

 It is suspected that this monstrous deprivation he suffered as a child explains the stark raving
realism now captured by his work.  In “Masks of the Potato God,” InKa Doti displays for all to see
the breathtaking respect his work engenders among Inca-tologists the world over. Choosing his
images from the rich web of Pre-Columbian deities worshipped by the Inca, Doti’s work often
dangles dreadful demons against a backdrop of golden skies, while the viewer is appropriately
hypnotized by their cruel and awesome size.  Coldly blue eyes surrounded by a glaze of red blood
stare out at us with the indifference that elephants show ants. Distended maws capture the essence
of insatiable hunger, surrounded by tendrils wildly entangled, and crusted with dread. If this is your
cup of tea, you might want to consider making a low bid.  You never know when some idiot might
somehow succeed to success.  
Investors’ Business Daily: Van Nuys Edition on Line                                                       July 5, 2009

“Rare Prints of Peruvian Artist Now on Sale”


The Further Adventures of Ike: Part Two
Sunday, January 16, 2011, 12:03 PM
Epistomological Analysis of Failed Lesson Transformations

Working on the basis of the principle "It is impossible to be in error.", I have been preoccupied lately with those nine photos you sent some
time back: "Failed Lesson 1-9."  I have run most of them through several digital filters, and assorted other maneuvers involving properties.  
Continuing my investigations with renewed vigor and growing anticipation, I then began to discover other images buried under those
backgrounds as if  fate and the gods of chance and chaos were suddenly revealing spontaneous aspects of the nature of the universe, the
subconscious, the behavior of worms (especially night crawlers) and the inception of organized religion.  Attached you will find some of the
results of this new, technically arcane and highly sophisticated method of inquiry.  Chaotic Neuro-Pixellographic Archeology would seem to
be an appropriate term. I am also considering Projective Psycho-logical Alchemical Osmosis. What do you think?  

Myth of Ka-Ike" seems to confirm much of what we have always maintained was a genuine curiosity...worthy of the desert
"Board Game # 2" I'm sure will not fail to be of peculiar interest to you...

As I am totally fascinated with this new line of inquiry, I am naturally inclined to continue my investigations until I hit the real pay dirt. Any
observations you can provide would be greatly appreciated.

As always,
Wednesday, January 19, 2011 3:37 PM
Where to begin?  As is seemingly so often the case I flounder in articulatelessness
before the lambasting dramaturgic awe of techno-symbosophic artifice and craft.  The
interdisciplinary linkage of theories of knowledge, the archaeology of archaic selves
and the parasitic canons of religiosity, with the slimy soaring image of totemic worms
is truly a tour de force of righteous phantasmals pickled in the exquisite juices of
fiendish non compos mentis.
 I see narratives foaming in the pixels but they exude a
muteness potion and I flounder, grumble and croak in a murmuring undertone without
proper words or voice.

Is that Lope I see in "Myth of Ka-Ike?"

'There were shadows where they had not been before.  The air was dank with a
precipitate of hubris.  The floating head of Ike, the shadow of Lope.  It smelled of a
birthing--oozings of mucus, salt water and blood--resonant with screams and
whimpers.  An internal colloquy begets conflicting certitudes.  "Yes," Ike exclaimed,
"It is Alpha, the beginning."  "No", Lope replied, "It is Omega, the end."  And
somewhere in the background an auspicious soft voice chanting endlessly, "It doesn't
matter, it makes no difference."  The spawn of memory and now--the wasness of the
is--plowing endless circling furrows of cognizance in numinous contours of inchoate
dubiety.  An ill-kempt mythos of telestic debris casting seeds which may or may not
be sterile on ground pocketed with potential for both the barren and the fecund in
apparent equal measure.  So Ike and Lope play out their charade while the slumberous
bystanders scratch and fart.  And something antic 'this way comes.'
Thursday, January 20, 2011 3:10 PM

BoardGame #2 is arguably fraught with prototypical interrogative
wonder and dubiety.  Is Ike intent on some form of gross wonder and
?  Is Ike intent on some form of gross exhaustion of the
'incomplete Cartesian product?  Or do his aims center around
'sensitive dependence on initial conditions'?  Border issues do not lend
themselves to easy resolution.  The tiniest part can serve as a doorway
to the whole.  Constraints edge up against convolutions as he poses
riddles of the fuzzy and the crisp.  It is much too easy to succumb to
the simplicity of dichotomy,  to adopt a wiggly frame in some pretense
of parallels in which binaries are spurs to limit further questioning.  
Does the 'meat sibling' really have to ask Why?  Are eggs less cosmic
once they are boiled and their cracks read as omens of the unbounded,
the ambiguous and the ineffable?  Do dreams serve as a compost
nurturing us with their own cancerous agenda?  And 'Where is the
sea," the fishes cry as they swim its crystal clearness through?  As is
so often the case, Ike's egregious head floats in the ethereal vapors
presuming to be the omniscient observer and imposing his regal
smugness on all queries, rejoinders, retorts and proposed unravelings.  
There is no solace in this game, no winners or losers-- only the eternal
fustian staleness of gab, jabber, babble and prate.  The apple hovers
over the shadow tempting the unwary with both Newtonian epiphany
and serpentine betrayal.  In the final measure what we have here is a
rebus which is both epithetical and epitaphial, another attempt by Ike
to cock-a-doodle-doo the conspiratorial dawn desperate to ensure the
rise of his beloved private parts.
Board Game # 2

In "The Evolution of Christianity" we see Ike's irate cynicism
regarding Dotty's claims to have experienced holy stigmata.  Thus
Dotty is depicted with brazen glare clearly representing facial elements
of both Jesus and Lucifer with a cross perverted into four quadrants
wherein souls  apparently experience assorted forms of hellish
torment.  There appears to be nothing of great subtlety and one seeks
in vain for guileful nuance or even a mere soupcon of interpretative
fodder. It seems likely that in creating this piece Ike was unduly
Toad's  piece de resistance (i.e., "Dog(ma) is a Bitch" ) is thought to
have aroused Ike's ardor at debunking all claims  and efforts at
achieving aesthetic spirituality by any means other than the phallic.  
Some even believe that Ike has adopted Ugh Toad's credo where the
only path to oneness with the universe, and communion with whatever
gods there may be, is through the perfection of masturbatory
technique.  In any case, despite this outrageous assault on his
convictions there is good evidence that Dotty continues to bleed
through assorted pores and orifices and that he is working to perfect
his system for oozing out dots.  He will continue to resist all efforts
suggesting that he should pierce his penis with a scorpion stinger.    
The Evolution of Christianity
Mon, January 31, 2011,   12:59 PM
memo from Snoop Rat

TO:          All Subscribers to Artsy Fartsy and other noted members of the clerisy illuminati
FROM:    Snoop Rat  (Roving, Free-Lance, On-line Reporter for Artsy Fartsy)

As some may already know, recent release of new work by that churlish slubberdegullion Eucalyptus Ike has bestirred cyberspace-- rousing
louts, lowbreds and would-be intelligentsia from their capernoited paranoia to new heights of garbled exegesis.  The twitter-scape  and
blogosphere are agog with bloated expositional gloss seeking to analyze, untangle, demystify, condone, excuse or otherwise explicate the
transmogrification of a humble wood-carving savant into a major new creative force whose facile artifice seems  to both encompass and
transcend all diversiform styles and movements of the past hundred plus years of contemporary art while at the same time signifying nothing.

Being a well-mannered and genteel professional journalist it is my intent to withhold personal judgment and simply report the facts in a
dispassionate and objective voice.  It is, of course, my hope that the vulgar guile inherent in  members of  the Artsy Fartsy World will
motivate the more pretentious to add their own carping fussy quibble to this smellfungus mass of multisyllabic vomit.  To help stimulate
oppugnant disputatious instincts I have taken the liberty of including a brief sampling of excerpts from the obiter dicum [sic, apparently the
RAT meant ‘dictum’] currently available:

"Disguised nonsense in a vortex of apparent meaning...a vain attempt of the demented outsider to fillet order out of slightly pickled chaos."

"He loiters on the divide between the sublime and the ridiculous...An old geezer sitting on his empyrean perch confusing dementia with
sapience, sniffing his farts for pattern and coherence."

"Entangled trammels of loopiness embedded in a baffling accretion of ersatz meta-text...  A pustule on the ass of surrealism."

"A paradigm of paradoxy with pretense of subtlety...Occluded by impasto with affectations of dada mystery."

"Simple child's play uncorrupted by doctrine, understanding or any possibility of revelation...An unsatisfactory effort to addle using
abstraction by enigma."

"Blob, blotches and daub wallowing without intention in an abortive attempt to wrest dialogue from the viewer."

"An enshrinement of distilled litter from an impoverished cul-du-sac of syllabic fragments posing as imagery."

"A doomed attempt at edification by puzzle...unvitiated limitation vanishing in its own attempt to parse a trap.""

"A would-be oracle technician of the secular depicting masturbation in process.  A rueful effort to sanctify the propitiatory taboos of ritual
Rumble on Red Carpet!                                                                                                           Jan 31, 2011, 1:16 PM
Eucalyptus Ike Attacks Filmmaker

Cannes, France – In an outburst so brazen and bizarre, it managed to even shock the French, Eucalyptus Ike, an obscure archivist, botanist,
wood carver, web visionary and film critic, assaulted the even lesser known fringe filmmaker, Ugh Toad, Saturday evening on the red carpet
at Cannes.

Mr. Ike was seen by several observers to make obscene gestures and ‘wind-breaking’ motions before squatting like a Polynesian warrior and
heaving a giant dart at the surprised Mr. Toad.

The dart missed Toad and struck dame Helen Mirren by accident, plunging through her right eye socket and instantly killing her. Ike was
wrestled to the ground by Claude Van Damme before security forces and gendarmes manage to haul him away. The organizers of the festival
wondered aloud what Mr. Toad was even doing on the carpet, considering his films were routinely denied entrance into the festival, and he
remained a persona non grata in every major film festival in the developed world.  Investigators are trying to determine what could have
caused Mr. Ike’s rage. Some reports suggest Odd Jim Dotty, an un-noteworthy gadfly and cynic and dabbler of pigments, will be questioned
soon at his home in Van Nuys California. Mr. Ike’s court appearance is scheduled for February. A charge of manslaughter is expected.

Mon, January 31, 2011, 3:34  PM
Breaking News Update

Van Nuys.
 Authorities today questioned Odd Jim Dotty regarding the recent arrest of his farceur associate Eucalyptus Ike, currently being
held in Cannes France on charges of homicide. Although Odd Jim was apparently unncommunicative and uncooperative detectives were able
to determine that a prized artifact, an ancient macrodart termed 'El Primo' , was missing from his collection. It is believed that this may be the
weapon used by E. Ike in his ill-fated assault on Ugh Toad. Odd Jim claimed to be unaware that El Primo was missing and refused further
comment. Further developments will be reported as they become available.
Eucalyptus Ike Hires Famed Attorney Monsieur Pantagruel                Feb 1, 2011, 9:14 AM

Cannes, France
– Eucalyptus Ike, disgraced bon vivant run amok and alleged killer of Dame Helen Mirren, has reportedly hired famed
French attorney, Monsieur Jean-LeCrum Pantagruel, to head his defense team. Pantragruel gained fame in the mid nineteen-nineties for his
creative defense of the alleged Parisian ass-sniffing slasher, Ogrediz the Algerian, by convincing the jury he was a national treasure and
having him housed in the Louvre. When asked about his chances in the case, Pantagruel quipped with characteristic gallic wit, “I’ve made a
living saving assholes.”

Mr. Ike remains in custody in Cannes.

Tue, February 1, 2011   10:42: AM            


Van Nuys
. Under the ingenuous guise of toppling dictators, supporters of Eucalyptus Ike have staged mass demonstrations in Tunisia and
Egypt demanding that he be immediately released from custody and allowed to continue his essential botanical experiments in the breeding
and care of aphrodisial hot peppers. As usual, the mainstream press has failed to discern the true facts underlying this story and blathers on
about repression, political grievances, democracy movements and other tangential concerns while totally ignorant of the transmundane
prophetic  status attributed to 'Soothsayer Ike' by elderly Muslim men. It is almost certain that Israeli intelligence has been a major player in
suppressing public knowledge of Ike's international leadership role in the 'Geezer Power' movement as part of their continuing efforts to
quell Arab population growth. But do not despair, dear reader, Snoop Ratt is on full alert and will keep his loyal followers apprised with all
new developments in this case.  

Helen Mirren Laid to Rest in West London                                Tues, Feb 1, 2011,  11:43 AM

London, England
– Famed actress, Helen Mirren was laid to rest in Chiswick, West London on Tuesday, February 1, 2011. Miss Mirren
was killed by a stray dart intended for un-famed Ugh Toad at the Cannes film festival on Monday, January 31.Services were conducted by
a Catholic priest and mourners included her husband, film director, Taylor Hackford, and fellow acting illuminati, Judi Dench, Ian
McKellen, David Thewlis, Ewan MacGregor, and Bruce Willis. The now infamous Eucalyptus Ike is currently being held in Cannes, France
and it is reported that he will soon be charged with manslaughter. Unconfirmed reports now emerging from the blogosphere suggest that
the pro-democracy movements spreading across the Arab world are in fact a massive “Free Ike” movement. The CIA along with French
and British intelligence services are rumored to be investigating the connection.  Hackford has reportedly told the Sun tabloid that he will
direct a “White Knights II” if Eucalyptus Ike is not given the guillotine, a threat that will certainly place enormous pressure on the French
government to reinstate the death penalty.

Le Petit Coq Revue Littéraire Offers Eucalyptus Ike €1Million for Prison Diaries
Feb 1, 2011, 1:42 pm

Paris, France – An obscure homoerotic literary publication has reportedly offered Eucalyptus Ike, alleged murderer of Helen Mirren, €1
Million Euros for salacious tales of prison life. Blogosphere wags have already penned several possible titles, none of which can be printed
in this publication.  So far there has been no comment from Mr. Ike or his attorney, Monsiur Jean-LeCrum Pantagruel.
From: Major Colin Osgood
To: MI6 Headquarters
C.C.: Number 10 Downing Street
Feb. 1, 2011, 3:49 PM

Below is the string of messages sent over a period of four days to headquarters from field agents:

8/1/11: Radio intercepts reveal heavy activity along the Waziristan border. Nature of activity unknown. Attempting to triangulate positions and
decipher messages. Upsurge in radio activity highly odd considering it was abandoned years ago as too perilous.

9/1/11: Heavy chatter. Agents unable to determine subject. Many highly encrypted messages sent via public email as well. IT team currently
attempting to decode. Proving very difficult.

10/2/11: Field work suspended after Corporal Dobbins complains of feeling queasy and then passing out. Medical staff discovers strange
pustules on his inner forearms and feet. Several fights break out during tea. What is happening on Big Brother?
11/1/11: Difficult to explain. Nothing quite right. Many of us seeing things. An apparition appeared over the horizon this morning. A horrible
one-eyed fluorescent creature with large Cheshire cat-like teeth. It looked half palm tree, half pure terror. The lads have begun to kneel at its

Nothing has been heard from these men since. Please advise.
Infamous Assassin Being Held in High Security
Tues, Feb 1, 11:18 PM

Dateline: Cannes, France  
 Authorities in Cannes havDateline: Cannes, France   
Authorities in Can
nes have released a photo to the French media of the despicable gynophile,
Eucalyptus Ike, charged in the wrongful death of Dame Helen Mirren, the beloved British film
star of so many blockbuster films. Known for her hard driving ambition and abundant bosom,
the actress was sauntering along the
famous red carpet at Cannes when she was struck in the
right eyeball with a massive dart heaved apparently
at Ugh Toad, who was attempting to boot
lick his way into the film festival with three cosmically boring amateur boring videos depicting
canine bowl movements. The Dame was, sad to say, the unwitting victim of a truly
unfortunate accident. After the attack, the villian was soundly thrashed by Claude Van Damme
and several members of the local press, who turned the bloodied hoodlum over to gendarmes
working as off duty security guards for the festival. After undergoing several hours of violent
at a local police station, the noxious boozer was transferred to the notorious
Chateau d’If, built in 1524-31, in the Bay of Marseille as a defense
against deranged asocial and political lunatics.   
Its isolated location,
shark infested waters, and dangerous offshore currents
make it
escape proof
like the island of Alcatraz in California.

The Chateau became internationally famous in the 19th century
when Alexandre Dumas used it as a setting for “The Count of
Monte Cristo.”  As was common practice even in those days,
prisoners at the Chateau are treated differently according to their
class and wealth. The poorest are literally placed at the bottom,
being confined to a windowless dungeon under the castle. The
wealthiest are much better off, living comparatively comfortably in
their own sumptuous private cells higher up, with windows, a
bathrobe, access to French whores, and a fireplace. However, they
are expected to pay for these privileges, effectively forcing them to
fund their own incarceration…and so it goes…
Wed, February 2, 2011, 10:50 AM
WikiLeaks & Ike case

Van Nuys.  The release of hush-hush classified photos by WikiLeaks raises
important new questions concerning motivational intent and a possible cover-up
conspiracy in the incarceration of E. Ike for the attempted murder of Ugh Toad and
the inadvertent death of Dame Helen Mirrin.  Although the photos were released
without editorial comment, they raise a number of intriguing questions and have
provided a field day for conspiracy theorists world-wide.  Among th
interpretations offered to date are the following:
1.  Despite prior claims,  E. Ike is enjoying a life of princely luxury in his
cell, while
indulging in every degenerate comfort that money can buy.
2.  Concrete physiological evidence suggests that Ugh Toad is of Hebrew origins
and, based on physiognomy, there is strong suspicion that E. Ike is the illegitimate
son of a Saudi Prince.  Enmity between these traditional adversaries provides ample
reason for the otherwise inexplicable attack with an ancient symbolic weapon.
Strange Object Mystifies Experts
Wed. Feb 2, 2011, 1:46 PM

Dubai, UAE – The U.S. army released a
photo today showing a strange object
floating towards Cairo, Egypt. According
to an Army spokesperson, the strange,
totem-like figure was first noticed by a
predator drone in Afghanistan, tracking a
top secret mission. When questioned about
why they released the photo, the
spokesperson seemed uncertain and even
slightly nervous. When pressed about the
mission, the news conference was abruptly
Wed, February 2, 2011 2:55 PM
Re: WikiLeaks & Ike case photos

Breaking news, Van Nuys.  A group of major crack scientists at Hustler Magazine has identified the recently reported strange object as Ike's
magical flying codpiece.  It is suspected that he has already exhausted his 'discretionary funds' and is using this means to contact his alleged
half-brother Asama Bin Laden for financial aid.

Wed, February 2, 2011 3:47 PM
another pecksniffian potboiler

Ugh, Dotty, about Helen et. al.
Have been having strange dreams lately, Jackals and Hyenas snapping at my heals, Alaskan blowflys burrowing into my flesh to lay their
insidious eggs, great sucking sounds emaninating from the earth below my feet, and now I know why. Am enjoying the sidelines while you
two fuss about what insanity to profess next. Soon, however, there will have to be a reckoning, I reckon.  Actually, I am very busy arranging
the plumbing for a major erection to contribute to our joint effort with respect to le belles- lettres. But I am taking notes, and I apprecate all
the carefully suggested openings, hints, and invitations to join the confabulous blather of  nonsense. Still, I am curious to see where this
prattle of yours is going... A web search of Helen Mirren images yielded a substantial number of photos of the dame, including some naked
shots which might prove useful...too bad you killed her off before we had a chance to take the full measure of her potential performance...
then again, that still leaves her past for us to play with....

Wed, February 2, 2011 3:57 PM
RE: another pecksniffian potboiler and Dame Helen Mirren’s untimely demise:

We’re not too proud to stoop to clichéd devices such as flashbacks…
There was snickering in the room when one reporter pressed NASA about what ‘Navy-like’ meant. NASA spokesperson Dick Wadworth
went on to explain that they had never witnessed anything like it, ‘save on the front of a Capt’n Crunch® box or hanging out of bars on New
Years Eve in West Hollywood.’ The tone soon changed though. Having satiated the public’s much-needed thirst for levity, Army Major Glenn
Roid warned not to allow the pansy appearance of the alien Ike form to lull them into a false sense of security, citing the unpredictable nature
of eccentrics and asserting with certainty they could have blown this clown out of the sky!” U.S. Army General Bud Bloodgate then
interrupted Army Major Glenn Roid and the press conference was ended.
Hubble Records Disturbing Scene as Fear Grips Planet                                 Thurs, Feb 3, 2011
Cape Canaveral, FL –
scientists discussed a disturbing image captured on
the multi-million dollar
Hubble telescope Thursday showing
very ‘Navy-like’ Eucalyptus Ike commanding a spacecraft
the planet Earth. A once obscure web gamer, folk
artist and con man, Eucalyptus Ike has dominated the
headlines recently for a spate of odd behavior, particualrly
the shocking murder of Dame Helen Mirren. His name has
also been associated with strange events occurring in the
Middle East, including the current anarchic state of Egypt.
Feb 4, 2011, 12:11 PM
Hyena Naturalist Spots Weird Glowing
Objects, Hoax Suspected

Japanese nature photographer Kumiko Sushi-Tomonaga-
Mitsubishi-Suzuki-maru, while tracking a hyena through Wadi
Masrash, in the Qumran Wilderness Area famous for the
discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls, stumbled upon a glowing
monolithic obelisk well out  in the middle of nowhere. According
to Kumiko, the glowing apparition was shaped somewhat like an
ape’s head, and was the source of a laser projected holographic
image floating off in the sky, an image so peculiar she later
admitted she was unable to provide any description of it
whatsoever.  However, she did have the presence of mind to
snap a photograph.
Japanese Naval Intelligence sources, testing a two-man sub in the saline waters of the Dead Sea, now admit they themselves are baffled by
the objects which they suspect are somehow the basis of a cartoon prank. Other visitors in the area have reported some 70 camel trains of
desert Bedouins converging upon the wadi from a number of different directions. It seems much of the surrounding nomadic population is on
the move toward the obelisk, a migration which is unusual for this time of the year, so close to the close of the recent Muslim holy week. A
local sect of Christian evangelicals, struggling to make ends meet in the harsh winter climate of the Sinai Peninsula,
is also reported to be on
the move in their dune buggies in a race to see who can claim the religious implications of what some now suspect is the first sign of visitors
from outer space…   
Fri, February 4, 2011 12:25 PM memo concerning nomenclature adjustment
Ace, I can think of no reason whatsoever why you should not come right out with it, instead of pussyfooting around. This Army Major Glenn
Roid? Surely his first name should be Hem, don't you think? Ike
Dateline: Qumran, Israel: Doctor Heimlech Toadstein
Grubber, noted epigrapher and biblical scholar, announced
today he has begun the translation of nine ancient manuscripts
found in separate jars within the mouth of a strange glowing
object discovered recently by a Japanese tourist in Wadi
Masrash, not far from the site of the famous Qumran Museum
itself. Grubber was approached by the Israeli Government,
which had taken possession of the jars, due to his previous
work on the Dead Sea Scrolls, now housed in the Qumran
Museam where he works. As Director of Biblical Antiquities
for the museum, Grubber bears the grave responsibility for
preserving such important antiquities, thus making him the
logical choice to oversee the effort to decipher the new
Seen here, Doctor Grubber is examining one of the scrolls, known as the “Lost Log…” or “Sacred Log…” or “Sacred Turd” something or
other, which he hopes to prepare for eventual publication [in Hebrew] in the spring. The “Lost Log…,” it seems at this juncture, is concerned
with the desert wanderings of an unknown pre-Jewish sect or tribe which inhabited the Sinai Peninsula and surrounding deserts over three
thousand years before the birth of Christ, effectively making its members one of the earliest known groups to have developed a written form
of primitive or ancient Semitic. According to Grubber, three branches of the tribe referred to themselves respectively as the Essenes, the
Ascends, and the Ass-ends, the most interesting of the three from a theosophical point of view.

Apparently the Ass-ends believed human waste was imbued with divine significance. Since man was created in the image of God, all aspects
of man were considered equally sacred,
even his turds.Thus the Ass-ends did not bury their turds but rather collected them into great mounds
which they worshipped daily with new deposits.

A tribe’s wealth was not only based on the size of its flocks, but also upon the size of its turd mounds . As really large bowel movements
were a sign of godliness and God’s favor, the Ass-ends were quick to take credit for exceptional deposits, which were recorded in the “Lost
Log” book beside the name of the tribe’s person who had so distinguished the creator. It is even suspected that dried turds were used in the
production of paper upon which the tribe recorded its activities, beliefs, festivals, etc.  Farting is also said to have played an important role in
religious ceremonies, as farts were also taken as a sign of piety and respect. Farts were deliberately shared events because they were said to
promote sanctity, family values and deepened appreciation for the collective spiritual aroma of the tribe….
Glowing Monolith Yields Up Treasure Trove of Ancient Manuscripts
February 4, 2011
Friday, Feb 4, 2011, 4:51 PM


Here's an item I thought you might be interested in.
Check out the rendering of Ezekiel gazing upon the
wheel. I photographed it recently in a urinal at Dolly
World in Tennessee...

Universal Wusses, the makers of a popular line of Ego-bots introduced recently to the
American public, announces a price break on the new Bi-sexual Photon Gyro-Cycle.
Seen here in a clip from a Superbowl goo-gi commercial produced by Toe-Jam of Toad
Daddy, Da Didy-Mad Marketer, the Mark III Proton Powered Photon-Fast Gyro-Cycle
sells for 2.3 billion yen (850 million Euros), 4.1 billion US dollars or $6.29 in Galactic
Credits. Rumored to be exceptionally quiet even though powered by four Rolls Royce
gravitron annihilators, the Mark III will take you anywhere in the galaxy you want to go
with all the comforts of home at warp speed. Its tri-plot celestial astrogator (seen here
mounted above the Gyro-cycle), provides D-ike 4.2 accuracy guaranteed to deliver you
to any quadratic equation in the universe. The moon, Mars, the outer planets, Gedi
Prime, or the Andalusian Sea on Andromeda, just south of Cassiopeia, you name it and
you’re there in less than 20 solar minutes. It’s a bargain, at any price.

Of course, when you get to where you want to go, you’re going to need local
transportation. That’s where the Gyro-Cycle’s luxury on board Das Ego Bot comes in.
The shiny little proton roadster, with its miniaturized D-ike 1.2 Astrogator, will shuttle
you and your party of playmates to any scenic location on the planet. It’s efficient, runs
on just about anything, including urine, and comes with sleeping accommodations for a
party of ten normal sized human adults. It has a wet bar, its own escape module, and
enough food and drinking water to sustain a party of four for up to three weeks…You
can count on it, if you know what I mean…   
Burbank Chamber of Commerce Promotes New Products                                                         Feb 6, 2011
Readers who have little to do beyond balancing their checkbook once a month may take consolation from this epizoic narrative attached like a
barnacle to the inside of a Van Nuysian sewer pipe leading to a local water reclamation district. For here they will find ample justification for
presuming their own situation is really not so bad after all, if you consider how desperate for attention were the authors of the pathetic
circumstances identified below.  As you can see, the story begins with a photo of an enormous petrified coprolite of which shape and size
qualifies it as the world's biggest turd [See
Ripley's Believe It or Not]. How this amazing relic of Biblical antiquity came into being and why
it has been accorded so prominent a place in the denouement of the tale remain for the reader to discover, obviously. For the rest, let me say
only that not everything that happens in this world happens for the best or for the worst for that matter. Lots of stuff just happens for no
particular reason whatsoever. Since that is the case (and a case which has never been even marginally in dispute), there seems little reason to
pretend anything special is going to be going on here. Anyone who thinks there is probably should not attempt to support a claim to be much
of a thinker in the first place. That being said, it is important to emphasize that "A laugh is worth a hundred groans in any supermarket."
Myth of Ka-Ike
Editor's Note:
A comprehensive review of the principles of Psychotic
Projective Osmosis is available for those who wish to explore
deep homo-erotic tendencies and their applications to the
field of modern art. Prepared at the Photosynthesis Institute
for Theoretical Subjects (PITS), it remains one of the most
controversial analyses presently available to the general
public at no expense. For more personal readings, visit the
Institute where a team of skilled technicians is on duty
between the hours of 8-10 PM Monday through Friday.     
Read Ike's Legendary Homo- Erotic Exegesis
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