It's not all fun and games…

Contrary to popular belief, most people don't achieve their dreams. Take, for example, Hollywood. Most people that depart for this smoggy stretch of California land do not, in fact, become famous actors and directors. Even those that do have to suffer first. Harrison Ford, as everyone knows, was working as a carpenter when he was hired for the role of Han Solo. What most people don't know is that during this stint of work, he bashed up his thumbs so badly with a hammer that they had to be replaced with robotic prostheses. George Lucas drew upon the horror of this real-life incident when he created the scene of Luke Skywalker losing his hand. It's ironic that Mark Hamill lost his real hand two days after shooting that scene in a bizarre Swiss Army Knife accident. However, in his case, they were able to clone a new one from Carrie Fisher's shed hair follicles, and Hamill's body didn't reject it because she really is his sister.

In more modern times, Russell Crowe had to work for seven years as a cheese slave before it occurred to someone that a hunky Australian git would make a good Roman general. In his private diary, which I hired ninja squirrels to steal, he still reminisces fondly of the days when rich widows would pay him well to drizzle molten mozzarella on his rock-hard abs.

He's not the only Australian in show business, however. Paul Hogan, beloved portrayer of Crocodile Dundee, met with intense racism in his early days as an actor due to being an Australian Aborigine. He purchased a skin-whitening treatment from Michael Jackson, and next thing you know, he was g'day mating all over the place.

The only other famous Australian is Yahoo Serious, whose real name is Bozo Profound. You haven't heard much from him of late because Yahoo! Search successfully contested the name and they now own his body. Rumor has it they sold his organs on the black market in Thailand, so it's possible that kidney your aunt got last year has been in a major motion picture or two.

Many people think Mel Gibson is Australian. He's not. He's Austrian, but he does a much better job of covering up the accent than the current governor of California does. The "Mel" is short for Melanin. He's an Austrian Aborigine, and suffered similarly to Paul Hogan, who is no relation to Hulk Hogan. Hulk Hogan is actually a clone grown from Pancho Villa's mustache, fragments of which were embedded in the death mask taken of his face shortly after he ceased living (hence the name "death mask'). Most major wrestling figures are cloned from the facial hair of great historical leaders. I think next year they're introducing The Proletariat and The Means of Production, a pair of tag-teaming twins grown from Karl Marx's beard and eyebrows, respectively.

Speaking of the Marx Brothers, Groucho is proof of the phenomenon formerly seen only in Japan (and documented in their precious graphical works known as manga, which is Italian for "to eat", due to the edible rice paper on which early such comics were printed) wherein very aged humans shrink to about three feet in height and turn green. After this happened to him, he could only get a job on Sesame Street and was forced to live in a trash can. Another example of this anti-growth spurt is Yoda, bringing us back to the beginning, indicating that we are in fact at the end.

Politics as Unusual

So, I was thinking they should make a movie about a bad-ass 19th century U.S. President who goes around doing all sorts of crazy stunts with over-the-top special effects and battling the enemies of the state. He can have a big set of Wolverine-claws for carving out hunks of Latin America to lord over via the Monroe Doctrine. At some point, his elderly mentor Andrew Jackson can show up and engage in some John Woo-style two-fisted sixgun action in a climactic battle scene against his opponent in the upcoming election. We can call the whole thing Van Buren.

The Games of Divinity run on NES?

For all you Exalted fans, after looking at this, I feel tempted to write up something about a setting where you have been Exalted by the Unconquered Plumber to defend the world from the threat of armies of hungry turtles and undead war mushrooms that threaten to burst forth from the Underground, lead by the dread Bowser-Lord. Aside from the default heroes of the setting, the Plumber Exalted, we also have the Luigi Exalted who were their brothers in the First Age and are masters of being somewhat taller and thinner, not to mention green instead of red. There are also the reclusive Chosen Maidens, who remain in castles most of the time, acting as advisors and love interests. More numerous are the Terrestrial Exalted, also known as the Mushroom-Blooded, for they grow from the ground, and their heads remain shaped like toadstools for their entire lives. More recently, there have appeared the Wario, dark reflections of the Plumber Exalted who bear their Caste Letter turned upside-down in vile mockery. All the Exalted employ powerful Charms such as Height-Increasing Prana and Fire-Shooting Technique.

Objects on body may be closer than they appear.

I hear they just started shipping Heisenberg clothing last week. The more you know what it looks like, the less you know where it is. This is very convenient when you come back from the party and can't remember where you left your clothes—you're at least certain which ones they were, so you'll recognize them when you do stumble across them. On the other hand, when you're walking down the street and someone looks at you, noticing your spiffy new outfit, it has an annoying tendency to quantum tunnel elsewhere. Having your pants teleport to your car's trunk and your shirt back into your closet while your underpants find their way onto the head of an overweight walrus, leaving you Heisenaked, can be quite disturbing to the unsuspecting.

Due to this, you should generally combine your Heisenberg clothes with ninja clothes. These lurk just out of sight until needed, then spring onto the scene, covering your exposed bits with perfect subtlety. (Of course, they look just like ordinary clothes, so as to blend in and be undetectable. Real ninja never wore black outfits.) As long as you're the only one wearing them, they're great. Unfortunately, once everyone starts wearing ninja clothes, they will get weaker and weaker, until they have the problem that they'll fall apart during use, leaving you naked again. However, by that point, your Heisenberg clothes will hopefully have come back…

Zombies, zombies, everywhere!

So, to close out the zombie trilogy, let us ponder the thought of zombie tupperware. Small, horrid plastic containers of the dead, burping in the night and seeking brains to keep fresh…just don't use them to store holy water. That would result in the bottom melting right out, and that would both make a mess and void the limited lifetime warranty that comes with every container.

Of course, these days, they'd be facing some serious competition from low-grade zombie ziploc storage containers. They're reasonably durable, almost as horrific, and a whole lot cheaper. Creates terrible waste though, filling up the landfills of future generations with undead plastic. I can just imagine some teenagers sitting around in the park built on top of the old creepy landfill when this tattered plastic lid bursts from the ground and tries to store them. It'll probably be in theaters by this summer…

Hey, I was using that joint!

"No, don't cast Crush Kneecap on me, that would be mean," she whines.

"Okay, I wasn't really going to anyway…but you have to admit, it's a useful spell—cripple your opponents and run away, and it's definitely the ultimate defense against Bigby's Groin-Seeking Kneecap."

"What about having a groin of iron, you know, the famous Ingue Ferroque?"

"I dunno, even if your groin is made of iron, the rest of you probably isn't. I'd bet that Bigby's Kneecap would just ram your iron groin right through the rest of you, which would be decidedly unpleasant. Anyway, I think it's a pretty big kneecap we're talking about here. I'd have to consult the Player's Handbook v.3.1415926 to determine the exact size, but I'm pretty sure it just tries to center itself on your groin, but is wide enough to take out the rest of you as well."

"In that case, will crushing it really stop it? You might have to crush it multiple times, you know. Sort of crimp the edges like a pie crust, then poke a hole in the middle."

"Or, you could just crush the kneecaps on the other wizard. That'll distract the groin-smashing bastard!"

"Would that work? Is the kneecap autonomous once he casts it? Maybe he'll just writhe around in agony while you still get your iron groin pounded right through you. Sort of a lose-lose situation."

"You have point there. Also, he could be cowardly and hide out of range, trying to take you out with an Intercontinental Ballistic Kneecap."

"Aren't those banned by the Kneecap Test Treaty of '04?"

"Yeah, but it's not like rogue wizards care. What are you going to do, go on a quest against them? In fact, I bet most of them have ICBKs just because they're illegal, and then they use them to extort billions of gold pieces in aid out of the first-world kingdoms."

"That might work, but I'm sure the first-world kingdoms would get sick of it soon enough. They'd probably crush one of two of the evil wizards every so often to keep the others from getting uppity. There'd probably be protests about it, too."

"Oh, yeah, but they'd have to fight for media time with the Orc's Rights groups, who refer to them as 'persons of tusked ancestry'."

"Damn orcs taking our jobs—we should just fireball their green asses!"

"Or crush their kneecaps."

A Musing

From the minds of men flow dreams, but it is the hands that shape them into reality. However, those without hands have to make do with their noses. Society would be different indeed if it had been shaped by the noses of great men. Most likely it would have small, greasy smudges all over it, since gripping a handkerchief with one's nose is well-nigh impossible, unless one is an elephant. Elephant society, as proof of this, is rather different from human society.