All Entries Tagged With: "Western satire"
Dinosaurs to blame for Slope roads
(Denver) The often-deplorable condition of Western Colorado’s roads is due to centuries of abuse by dinosaurs according to Governor Jared Polis. Likening the destruction to some 50,000 tractor-trailers dropped directly on the asphalt from the sky, the governor praised road crews and defended disbursement of public funds during his reign.
“These mindless lizards never paid one penny of highway tax either,” chimed newly elected Colorado Senator, John Hickenlooper, from the veranda of the gubernatorial mansion here. His appearance would be cut short as weather experts warned of a particularly dangerous brown cloud air index levels, serious enough not to be diluted by hot air originating with Hickenlooper.
The governor went on by blasting critics and free-lance skeptics who were quick to point out that no dinosaurs have roamed these parts for centuries. He equated the lack of attentiveness to history’s manifold destiny and the chronic fiscal irresponsibility of more recent times.
“This is no partisan issue. These animals did the deed many years ago and we are paying for it today,” said Polis. “even before they built Interstate 25.”
“One cannot discount the damage wrought on our transport arteries by these ignorant beasts or enormous mass,” continued the senator. “I am a brewmaster by trade and I’m not brewing far fetched tales here. Other states like Texas and Arizona have far nicer roads and the common denominator there is that no dinosaur bones have been exhumed.”
Governor Polis called on all students of motorized travel to do their homework on this issue. He promised to appoint a committee of archeological teams to further study the problem. Dinosaur fences have been proposed as well as a fossil fuel pipeline from Alberta to the Gulf of Mexico.
“We have already started building dinosaur crossings (with tunnels) and creating a sense of tight security around the more prevalent digs,” said one fossil scientist. “Some of our flaggers have even reported seeing dragons in the Bland Valley and the occasional rogue unicorn on the Uncompahgre Plateau. We must be careful not to upset the natural balance or there goes out chance at cheap gas for another generation.
It is commonly held that one day dead dinosaurs turned into oil much like Rumpelstiltskin straw turned to gold or Pinocchio puppets turned to real boys.
A Colorado Department of Highways spokesman assured voters that the problem would be handled and that residents and visitors alike would once again experience a quality drive on our highways.
“This is outrageous!” said one Republican county commissioner. “Next he’ll be telling us there won’t be a state of the state address because the dinosaurs ate his homework. Imagine our ancestors tied up in traffic trying to get to the gold fields or to the Rapture or to attack sleeping Indian villages. Not on these roads!”
There has been no response to the issue by the powerful dinosaur lobby since it is believed the group has suffered extinction, which according to some is the exact opposite of evolution.
– Kashmir Horseshoe
THE GREAT AWAKENING
After a less than glorious hunting season we thought it would be appropriate to take a daring left turn in traffic and consult with our good friend, Uncle Pahgre, who, among other accomplishments, wrote the Division of Wildlife by-laws and designed the field uniforms for most herd animals participating in the annual hunt. He also claims to have taught Chief Ouray how to hunt elk.
(The following is taken from The Tail Waggin’ the Dog
by Uncle Pahgre, as told to Melvin O’Toole.)
If I had a nickel for every leg-pulling, eyeball rolling hunting story I’ve heard in the San Juan over the decades I’d have the cash to buy one of them fancy car phone or at least a plug of decent chew. A list of the most preposterous episodes chronicled over the past twenty years would have to include the one told by my eternal fishing buddies, Delmar and Cedric. We’re not talking liars here. We’re talking the perfect blend of a severely twisted imagination with a retarded memory thrown in to boot. Here is Delmar’s rendition of the time the two found what appeared to be a stiff along the San Miguel River during deer season.
It was a particularly inhospitable November morning. Me and my cousin Cedric were out prowling for buckskin. We wanted to see how the local herd was up to before we dropped a bunch of money on licenses. I was on the far side of the river and Cedric walked the east bank. We scanned the area for about ten minutes when all of a sudden Cedric liked to jump out of his skinny hide.
“Delmar, come quick,” he gasped, as I made my way across the water at a low spot. “We got us a stiff!”
Well, sure as hell when I reached the spot in question there was a full-grown man, in blaze orange, just as frozen as one of those store pizzas. We didn’t know what to do at first so I pulled my trusty jug and took a swallow. Cedrick did too. Then we sat down and had another.
“I wonder what he was doing out here?” started Cedric.
“Whatever it was, it sure didn’t agree with him,” I answered. “One thing’s for sure, though, we had better get this boy to the police before rigormortis sets in.”
As we sat there perplexed the weather began to warm up a touch. I would have to get the pickup that was parked about a quarter mile away down river.
“You stay here and mind the cadaver, Cedrick,” I told my cousin, “and I’ll go get our transportation.”
“I ain’t babysitting no stiff,” said Cedric.
After a little reassurance and a promise to leave the jug Cedric came around.
“Don’t be gone long,” he pleaded.
When I returned there was Cedric talking to the stiff. He was firing away telling his captive audience all about how to track elk through the mountains and how to field dress chipmunks, or something like that. I snuck up on the two of them. Cedric left the ground when I popped out from behind a stand of scrub oak. The stiff didn’t move.
“Don’t be scaring me,” said Cedric. “Ain’t things bad enough?”
After reflecting on that last statement I felt compelled to reflect on my jug. After another swig Cedric said, “What if the cops find us with this guy? Maybe they wouldn’t understand…”
“Now that’s good thinking, Cedric,” I said. “Maybe there’s hope for you after all.”
We carefully loaded our find into the back of my Chevy. He looked quite comfortable and for a moment I thought I saw some color coming back into his face. We decided to bring him to Montrose since these boys in San Miguel County don’t have a morgue. As we started back toward Placerville I noticed my gas gauge was stuck on empty.
“We’d better head up Norwood Hill and grab some petrol,” I said to Cedric, who was now preoccupied staring at our cargo through the rear window of the truck. From time to time, on the way to Norwood, Cedric would offer an update on his condition. I had another swig and played the radio.
After purchasing two dollars of regular we decided to stop at the Lone Cone for a quick shot…what with all that road dust and all. We ran into a few hunters from Oklahoma and shared a few rounds. Then we climbed back into out outfit and headed over Dallas. We were almost down to Ridgway when Cedric pointed to our passenger in the back.
“That boy has rolled over. Look at him. Maybe we’d better flag down the sheriff!”
“He just flopped over on that last turn,” I answered. “Don’t worry, he’s not going anywhere this morning. Let’s stop for a cold beer over at Old Man Prichard’s trailer.”
Finally after another hour at the Little Chef we arrived in downtown Montrose where we pulled up in front of Stockman’s Cafe. Although the weather was noticeably warmer we figured that we still had about an hour to make our delivery. We went in.
“Hey, Delmar,” nudged Cedric. “Ain’t that Joe Waterson from Gunnison? He owes me twenty dollars from last New Year’s Eve. I’m gonna get it.”
Cedric approached Waterson for the debt and I sat at the bar. Cedric returned and said he had settled for a few draws as his mark had claimed temporary poverty.
“I can buy you boys a few beers but that’s gonna be it,” said Waterson.
“We got us a stiff out in the truck,” whispered my cousin as another round of draws arrived. “You want to come out and have a look at him?”
“Not at this time of the day,” teased Waterson. “Have another beer.”
We sat and talked for about another hour. Soon this stranger staggered up to the bar and ordered a cup of coffee.
“Had a rough night?” I asked him.
“I’ll say,” he mumbled, downing his coffee and ordering more.
“You do look a little beat up this afternoon,” offered Cedric. “You want to sit down?”
He did so and after lunch I remembered our cargo in still the back of the pickup. I looked out at the sky. The temperature was already dropping.
“He’ll keep,” I assured myself and paid the bill.
“Yeah, that was some night,” continued our new friend who said his name was Jim and that he lived in Dalhart. “I haven’t been in that kind of shape since my first wife got married,” he laughed. “I think what I need now is a cold beer.
“Hell, I don’t even know how I got here. One minute I was walking along the river looking for my hunting camp and the next thing you know I wake up in the back of some strange pickup here in town.”
“You want to see what we got in the back of our pickup,” asked Cedric proudly, oblivious to the developments going on under his nose.
“Oh, no thanks, son. I think I’ve seen enough for one day,” said Jim.
“It’s a goddamn stiff!” said Cedric, a little put off that the stranger wouldn’t at least take a peek.
“Aw shut up, Cedric,” I shouted. “Jim ain’t no coroner or nothing. Besides, I think it’s time to get on with our delivery.”
Cedric and I made our way out the door. When he looked into the bed of the pickup he jumped again.
“Delmar!” he screamed, “our stiff is gone!”
“No kidding, Cedric,” I spat. “Our stiff is that guy Jim, from Dalhart. Now let’s clear outta here pronto.”
Cedric turned white as a ghost. As we headed back toward home my cousin noticed a red hunting cap lying harmlessly in the back.
“And that’s Jim’s hat too, huh?” he asked.
I told Cedric that the hat most likely belonged to Jim but that he could get another when he got back to Texas.
“Yeah, I guess we’ve already done enough for him, ain’t we?” said Cedric
– Kevin Haley
Boogypersons for the Season (continued from before)
Compiled by Billy Carp
L’uomo Nero
L’uomo Nero is typically portrayed as a man dressed in all black that haunts disobedient children in the Eastern Mediterranean area. The bogeyman is often said to also wear a hood or hat that hides his face. The L’uomo Nero comes to kidnap children who disobey their parents, though unlike other boogeymen he doesn’t eat them. Instead, he takes them to a frightening place to live with him for a year.
Oude Rode Ogen
Oude Rode Ogen (also known as ‘Old Red Eyes’) is thought to be a shapeshifting cannibal who preys on young children. It is thought that the form this beast was most likely to appear in was that of a black dog with red eyes.
The Night Hag
The night hag is an evil spirit thought to cause sleep paralysis and nightmares. This spirit is an old woman who preys on fear and nightmares of her victims. She sits on the chests of her victims while they sleep, causing them to have difficulty sleeping and enter into a disturbing dream state.
The Jumbie
The Jumbie is an evil human spirit that comes back to haunt the living in Caribbean folklore. While similar to ghosts, Jumbies differ in that they cast a dark black shadow instead of appearing as a wispy figure. These spirits are malevolent and will target anyone.
Explanation of the Myth
Though there are some that believe the bogeyman myths are inspired by real creatures, the majority of people believe that the bogeyman is nothing more than a tale told by parents who wanted to scare their children into behaving.
Wewe Gombel
In the Semarang area of central Java, there lurks a bogeyman who strikes fear into the hearts of children and parents alike – the Wewe Gombel. This strange boogeyman is said to be a spirit that seeks both vengeance and acceptance. Although the Wewe Gombel spirit is evil in nature, it does not harm children. Instead, she kidnaps children that are being neglected or abused and hides them from their parents until she feels the parents have learned their lesson.
Even though she takes her vengeance out on the parents, she is feared by children as well for her strange habits. It is said that any child unfortunate enough to be kidnapped by the Wewe Gombel is forced to eat feces until they are allowed to return home.
El Coco
El Coco (also known as the Coco Man) is known to strike fear into the hearts of many Hispanic and Latino children. This strange beast is not known to have a specific appearance, but is instead thought to be a shapeshifter that is ‘terrible to look at.’ In some regions, the Coco Man is thought to have the power to transform into the thing a child fears most.
El Coco climbs onto the roofs of children who disobey their parents and waits until they fall asleep. It is then that El Coco sneaks into the room of the naughty child and kidnaps them for its next meal.
Babaroga
Babaroga is a Croatian boogeyman that has a deep hunger for disobedient children. This boogey is said to be an ugly old woman with horns atop her head. She stalks her prey at night and takes them back to her dark hiding place where she devours them.
Babaroga is thought to carry a bag that she uses to drag children away into her lair (which is often a cave). Sometimes she preys on children who venture out too late at night, while other times she is said to reach down through the cracks in the ceiling to grab her prey.
Tata Duende
Tata Duende comes to us from Latin America and is most prominent in Mayan and Mestizo folklore. This bogeyman has backwards feet and is missing his thumbs, which gives him an odd fixation on the thumbs of humans – especially human children.
It is said that the Tata Duende (which translates roughly to Grandfather Goblin) is the protector of the jungle. However, he can also be very mischievous at times. If Tata Duende finds a naughty child, he will lure them into the jungle and try to bite off their thumbs.
The Namahage
The Namahage is a Japanese demon who preys on children who are disobedient, lazy, or prone to crying. The Namahage is known to steal crops and disobedient children during the New Year. They are known to roam city streets during the night and calling out, “Are there any cry babies?”
For some ultra-fright please turn to Socialism in the US 2020 – The biggest Boogyman of all!
“The Mask of the Red Death is rather appro Poe for the times.”
– Kathy Mernitz, philosopher-thespian.
AUTUMN HOROSCOPE
“Just relax. Drink until you see your Aunt Marie or Grandad Joseph.”
– Cristal Callalou on El Dia de Los Muertos – Carriacou, Grenada
LIBRA (September 23 – October 23)
Although you generally say the right thing it is often to the wrong person. Invisible is sometimes better than invincible especially when dealing with the authorities. Business dealings will be successful if you stick to negotiations with people more naive than you. This will indeed limit the scope of activity but could put money in your pocket. Avoid delegating responsibilities since no one is listening to you anyway.
SCORPIO (October 24 – November 22)
Build a better mousetrap and someone cleverer than you will jack up the price of cheese. Question reality. Listeners you wish to captivate will sit up and take notice just so long as you limit contact to the telephone. Personal appearances will backfire as people find you less than attractive through the 15th. Open a charge account at the county landfill. Oh, if only golden retrievers could vote…
SAGITTARIUS (November 23 – December 21)
Avoid conversations with yourself regarding subject matter that is above your head. Friends may question your choice of breath mints in the late afternoon. Comprehension of cereal box literature is directly related to the individual appetite. Is your head half full or half empty? Remember: Severe skin disease isn’t for everyone. Face it: That bullet wound in the front of your head may require medical attention before the weekend. Spend quality time with a bottle of Russian vodka.
CAPRICORN (December 22 – January 19)
Don’t let fortuitous developments slip through your fingers. Wear mittens. Avoid aggressive exhibition of self-control when dealing with underlings. Although you dress much like an adult the jury is still out when it comes to applied maturity on all fronts. The days are getting shorter and so is your attention span. Your planets are lined up at the soup kitchen. Visit a relative in jail this weekend.
AQUARIUS (January 20 – February 19)
Your position as breadwinner has become quite stale. Try tortillas. Sly manipulation is better than direct confrontation when it comes to houseplants. Blaze orange clashes with blood-shot eyes. A willingness to compromise wins friends and allies. A willingness to purchase rounds of drinks keeps them in tow. If you are going to be a deadbeat be the best darn deadbeat you can be. Pay all debts promptly or leave town a little more promptly. A day trip to the local zoo could help determine evasive family roots.
PISCES (February 20 -March 20)
Spend time at the bottom of the tank in the afternoon. Fish smells like fish. Cattle smell like cattle. Avoid the surf and turf. Mrs. Paul has her one good eye on you. Keep your fins to yourself. Today is trash day and it is a good idea for you to keep on the move. Your bubbly attitude, good hygiene and fresh approach to menial tasks will cause fellow workers to vomit. If you cannot develop a bad attitude on your own seek professional help. Those personal hygiene problems will disappear at the car wash.
ARIES (March 21 – April 19)
Today is a great time to get the cat a tattoo. Your culinary talents will emerge tonight with the arrival of a functional can opener to hunting camp. There is more to life than beans but not much more. Take only advice that is not nailed down. Do not rely on social workers that live in cardboard boxes. Hunting camp will be a gas about an hour after dinner is served. Stay upwind from yourself. When searching for personal faults try an objective topo map. Wash your hands before and after exercising good judgment.
TAURUS (April 20 – May 20)
Your conscience is in storage and the key is misplaced in your Third House. Sour grapes are in season. You may indeed possess a dull mind but then again you are good at keeping secrets. Deal with domestic disagreements at the other end of the bar. A man with an extremely large nose wants to buy you a continental breakfast. A casual compliment could turn ugly by lunch. You may find personal growth an evasive issue. Try dwelling on negative attributes while waiting for the traffic light to change. October is a bad month to jump out of airplanes, especially if they are still on the ground.
GEMINI (May 21 – June 20)
Suspenders can be handy in keeping your pants up but a good belt of scotch is easier to manipulate in a tight situation. Charm school can be expensive but don’t hold out for a scholarship. Perceived wisdom has shorted out what is left of your tiny brain. Red is your color and intimidation is your game but keep an industrial size bottle of smelling salts handy in case a lucky sucker punch hits home. No matter what the situation be sure to stay on…stay right on…the turnip cart. Pets may find it difficult to adjust to your new wallpaper through the end of the month.
CANCER (June 21 – July 22)
You are far too insensitive to take feelings to heart, far too egotistical to take it on the chin and far too closed minded to lend an ear. Get a leg up on life and keep adversaries at an arm’s length. Sticking your neck out will not distract the hangman. The concept of renting your house to transient dog handlers will result in a mess even bigger than life. Take heart, as your bowling handicap is higher than your IQ. It’s October. Do you know where your ozone is tonight? Helplessness is not an end in itself but could be the beginning of someone else’s problem.
LEO (July 23 – August 22)
Your nasal passages may be closed for the weekend. Try using chains. Do something nice for local livestock. Don’t allow tedious good judgment to interfere with impulsive desires. Complete all hangovers. Patience is the key. Tinker. The best day for romance was about a month or two ago. You may be ticketed for passing a kidney stone on a dangerous curve. Avoid getting up on the wrong side of the bed by not getting up at all. Get everything in writing even if you cannot read. Put the heavy loads of your life on the gentile cycle.
VIRGO (August 23 – September 22)
Your innate ability to amuse freshwater fish may be a major asset in the backwaters of rural America but don’t try the same approach when dealing with urban sharks. Don’t confuse seasonal and spicy. Your Halloween costume will be a big hit with pigeons. Self-improvement may be out of the question until summer so enjoy your lot while you can. Quit your job over the phone. It’s the thing to do. Vote the cosmic ticket this fall. Beware of whiskered men in plaid shirts and lavish dinners in Styrofoam containers. Things will only get better when you do.
IF YOU WERE BORN A DEER OR ELK
For heaven’s sake make yourself scarce this month! We don’t want to alarm you, but there are thousands of loonies, armed to the teeth out in your woods looking for meat…and that meat is you! Unless you think you’d look good next to a bowl of potatoes please adhere to this simple advice: Stay high and keep your antlers about you if you want to be around come Thanksgiving.
Halloween – A Celtic Thing
From the outside, this website looks pretty basic, but it gets complicated fast. The publisher is in Pahrump this week, engaged in beach frolic while the often responsible managing editor is out betting against the Broncos. That leaves me here with Freddy Kruegar, The Mummy and an assortment of zombies, vampires and skeletons on a slow news day no less, to do everything. Morbid decorations.
Let’s see here then…halitosis….hallelujah…ah yes, Halloween. It seems the perfect fantasy matter for late October.
While the observation of Halloween in this country carries an array of perceptions and conceptions, it is quite a different experience on the Celtic Isles of Scotland and Ireland where the Hallow E’en celebration or Oiche Samhain originated. To the Pre-Christian Celts, Halloween was a sacred pagan holy day where it was believed that the spirits of the dead could return to their former life and make contact with the spirits of the living. In that ancient society, dominated by the enlightened and mysterious Druids, Halloween was an end of the summer fire feast where the gods were thanked for a rich harvest.
The Manx called it Hoptu Naa and the Welsh called it Calan Gaeaf. In the Gaeltacht of Western Ireland the people call the celebration Pooky Night, named after the mischievous Puka, a fairy of some regard. Either way it was all pretty much the same big carnival at a time of the year when the crops were in and magic was said to be most potent. In addition, it represented the mid-point in the Celtic calendar and the entry into the dark phase of the year.
The tradition of costumes originates on these islands too. Where merrymakers would mimic or placate the dead with painted faces and ghoulish attire. They were short on super hero outfits, and pre-fab plastics with accessories, so they had to rely on the magic itself to pull off their disguise. In Ireland and Scotland today many people simply done the white face paint and black robes in an attempt to continue this tradition – the cycle of birth and death in line with the order and harmony of the universe…a far cry from our commercial Halloween.
The practice of trick or treat (called mumming in Ireland) has been traced to the Celts too, as well as the Romans who invaded England. These conquerors sought to honor their Goddess Pomona, protector of the harvest, whose symbol was the apple, now an inherent part of Halloween celebrations. All of these feasts carried the unifying belief in the powerful symbolism of the moving dead, prayed for by the living
All was well until puffy Pope Boniface IV decided that people were having too much fun. He turned the whole shooting match into a holy day of obligation where the faithful faced mandatory Mass attendance and an assortment of petty restrictions. Excommunication was never far away, lurking in the darkness of the Vatican vault or cleverly veiled amid centuries of macabre masquerade. The Pope could not accept the idea of a special day for all of the dead so he turned it into a day for just the blessed dead…All Saints Day. If you didn’t go along with the Pope on this one your crops would fail and your livestock would die mysteriously. Blasphemers, pontifically defined, would certainly spend eternity in the Netherworld at unending barbecue mode.
The Jack-O-Lantern also came from these isles but was carved from a large turnip since pumpkins were not indigenous to the Irish soil. The legend tells of a greedy gambler, Stingy Jack, who once tricked the devil and was condemned to eternally wander the earth at night. The lantern was placed outside to help him find his way and, possibly to keep him out of the flower beds, off the lawn and from peeking in the windows. The more bountiful pumpkin, used today to create the frightening, toothy faces on the jack-o-lantern, only came into play after early settlers brought it back to Europe (along with the potato) from the Americas.
Although the origins of our Halloween are clearly Celtic, Day of the Dead observances are popular in Mexico, Egypt, Guatemala, and the Caribbean. In Michoacan, Oaxaca, Chaipas and Merida, on the Yucatan children receive little chocolate sculls and families build altars piled high with food and the things the deceased loved one enjoyed in life. The altars are then decorated with marigolds to honor the dead. Pan de muertos (Bread of the dead) is baked to accentuate the feasting.
In Chichicastenango, Guatemala a massive procession begins at one end of town and snakes to the other. Along with the Jesus and Mary statues the alternative Creole deity, Rahsheeman, rides elevated through the streets. Sugar cane liquor is everywhere. Cannons are fired and bedlam is not far off. Up father north, at haunting Nebaj, the naturales engage in inebriated horse races which are quite a sight to behold (from the sidelines with a plate of Hilachas).
In Cariacou, Grenada the party starts in the evening at the local boneyard where graves are turned into bars and everyone toasts dead relatives throughout the night. Fortune telling takes second fiddle to the consumption of under-de-counta (under the counter) a fortified (99% proof) rum from Trinidad fermented with spices and reputed aphrodisiacs. Now these folks really know how to throw a party. Chevere Boo, Babies !
-Kevin Haley
