Hemming and Hawing - Why Can't the Dumb of the Earth Just Cut it Out?

Good lord and butter, America – you’re at it again. It seems that as the weather gets warmer and the taxes get filed the outspoken members of this country’s dumber sectors come crawling out of their low-income shanty-communes to voice their complaints about Whatever Is The Recent “Injustice,” shattering the peace and quiet and sanctity of sound itself. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Could be that you’re wondering where I’ve been for the past two months. I’ve been busy as my father is tall, my mother is dutiful, and my God is correct – that’s where I’ve been. I wrote numerous articles for the Journal of American Goodness, but it turned out that the guy financing the whole publication wound up getting called into duty in Afghanistan (I know, I was just as confused as you are), and we haven’t heard from him in a few weeks. I pitched a “Meet the Press” style show to Newscorp, but they refused to agree to my terms (including the one that stipulated that I would be the only person allowed on camera at any time) so I took my offer off the table. I wrote a screenplay about Andrew Jackson, entitled “America’s Hickory Hero: An Action Movie in Six Parts,” and it has since been bought by a studio, the name of which I am not legally allowed to tell you. My autobiography continues to gain chapters as I continue to live a wildly correct and engaging life. My associate G. GacGuffin has also been hard at work on projects of his own, and as a result the logic mill that is the Gource hasn’t been churning out quality thought at the rate you readers have all grown accustomed to. Do not expect an apology – you should know better. Here I am just the same, and that should be enough.

So, what is it that’s managed to pull me away from my important and lucrative duties for long enough to pen another piece of perfect prose? I’ll tell you: the unending and ignorant stream of complaints I’ve been finding in my inbox – both digital and classic – since the Grimary Gource’s inception. Below is but an example of a letter I received today, one that is fairly representative of the dreck I have to wade through on a daily basis:



Click here to view the attached page mentioned in the letter.

I know that anytime great genius is unleashed on a wide audience there is bound to be an indignant outcry from those of lower minds (this is colloquially known as “tardlash”), but this is more absurd than Kierkegaard, and not nearly as eloquent. This kind of idiotic complaining is especially relevant today, as another publication is being railed against by the clinically confused. I’ve got my own issues with the people in question, the most important of which is the fact that they seem unable to say anything without immediately buckling under the foolish weight of their (undeserved) tardlash. These people are not geniuses - on the contrary they are bumbling, inept, and sometimes-illiterate mouth-breathers with only half-decent senses of humor. They’re on the right track, but they’re still too timid to really go for the gusto, to say what needs to be said the way the Gource says it. Their hearts are in the right place, but their brains aren't, and as a result the work they do is infinitely simpler and easier for the roiling sea of flickering lightbulbs to understand, meaning that the misguided public outcry against them is much more substantial than what I have had to deal with. The Gource, with its compound complex sentences, is much more difficult for the masses to interpret, and therefore slug-headed cause-adopters haven’t got the cognitive prowess to be enraged by the words you find here. I might not have sympathy for anything, but part of me feels for those beleaguered and dumb writers who are being hassled endlessly by a whirling mass of unshaven armpits and poorly-fashioned hemp sandals. Nobody comes out on top in conflicts like these, because the Gource is already at the pinnacle.

The Health Risks of Feminism - Why Is This News-worthy?

Recently, a Swedish study reported that women who earn the same amount of money as their husbands are more likely to become disabled, ill, or homosexual. It is not a leap to use this information to mandate that women make less money than men, or not work at all. This would, of course, all be for their own good. The Grimary Gource is unafraid to call Sweden out on this error.

Ever since man learned to use a rectal thermometer, science and medicine have consistently and without bias found that there are inherent risks to women acting too much like men. Hysteria, a nervous condition we have yet to cure today, causes women to go completely mad if they attempt to abstain from healing sexual intercourse with men.
But the Grimary Gource always knew that the health risks were not the main reason why women should abstain from feminism. The real risks are, of course, ethical. There can be no functioning society without very clear and well-established labor and social roles, and women have always been the people who do not work and are, once they come of age, sold to a rich family to improve her family's social standing. That is the way of the world. Who are we to change this?
So no, the Grimary Gource does not care that a new, completely neutral, foreign study has found more reasons why women will likely die or come undone. The Gource already knew that it was a bad idea, and the Gource never worries about health risks. The Gource's grimary concern is always the Best and Most Excellent way to live one's life, regardless of that life's length. And women earning as much as men is no way to live a life.

Honorary Degrees - Who Needs Them?

Wake up, America's University and College students. It is increasingly clear that you have been wasting years of your life on a degree that is ultimately meaningless. According to the National Institute of Research for the Family, people with college degrees are eight times as likely to be murdered in their sleep by people without college degrees than are people without college degrees likely to be murdered in their sleep by family members, either by blood or by marriage. The numbers are chilling.
As many of you probably noticed, Presidential brother and champion sack-racer Jeb Bush was recently denied an honorary degree by the University of Florida (most popular major: obstetrics). As far as The Gource is concerned, this is excellent news for all concerned.
The "honorary degree" movement that has been sweeping the nation in the past few months is further devaluing the power of actually having a degree from an accredited Place of Learning. Why graduate Gufts if I can just wait until I am widely recognized for my Many Merits and thus granted an honorary degree? Furthermore, this may affect the murder rate in unforeseen ways. If anyone can get a college degree, it may be harder to tell who is likely to be murdered by whom, and then how will we know what crimes to preemptively stop? Frankly, the whole this is madness.
If you are prepared to lower your risk of death, The Gource recommends you drop out of any college program in which you may be enrolled. Also, write to your Senator and tell them how you feel about honorary degrees. Here is a template to fill out:

Dear Mr. (name of Senator),
It is high time that it be made illegal for colleges and universities to (give honorary degrees). These "degrees" destroy our ability to effectively combat crime, which puts an unreasonable burden on our law-enforcement officers, who are still learning to shoot. I am a (your job), and I not only vote, but I also (something civic you do; e.g., kill muggers, rewrite Japanese history books). Unless you make this an official law, you can count on my (organization you belong to; e.g., union, fight club) voting for whoever runs against you. Sucka.
Angrily,
(your name), reader of The Grimary Gource

Political Discourse - Why Doesn't It Include More Offensive Slurs?

This article has been slightly edited from its original posting. It now includes the word "kike" in this introduction.

It is so rare that The Grimary Gource finds someone within the political process who speaks out in a way America can be proud of, so it is all too necessary that the Gource give kudos to Republican journalist/homemaker Ann Coulter, who finally outed John Edwards as a homosexual:

She has, of course, come under fire by the Orwellian Democratic Party, members of which are insisting that she be silenced for her "hate speech" (do they mean "straight speech?"). The Grimary Gource thinks that if Miss Coulter is going to quiet down on this all-too-important issue, there is only one option: we must take up her stead and continue what she started.
Not only is John Edwards a faggot, but we have it on good authority that Barack Obama is a skinny faggot bottom. You don't need The Grimary Gource to tell you that Hillary Clinton is a dyke, but did you know that she munches Barbara Boxer's fur pie? Of course, there are traitors within the Republican Party. Former human being Strom Thurmond was a faggot niggerlover--photos have surfaced of him performing oral sex on no other than Huey P. Newton, the very man he was assigned to kill!
We hope this issue will not die, and that Ann Coulter is allowed to continue to speak her mind. If we silence her, we allow T. R. Knight and his kind to operate freely in our society--something that is unacceptable to the common (heterosexual) man.

Rational Medical Advice #1

That’s right readers, I’m introducing a brand new column to the Gource. It seems to me that today more than ever people are uncertain about how to correctly take care of themselves, medically speaking. Sure, you can open just about any magazine in the check-out aisle of a poor-people’s grocery store and find articles from “doctors” and "babysitters" telling you how to prolong your inevitable transformation into a corpse, but I plan on offering you something more: I’m willing to actually address your health, and to offer you strategies for living your life that will maximize every aspect of your being, down to a cellular level.

Sleep – Do Humans Really Need It?

Last night most of you did something I didn’t: you got into bed, closed your eyes, and amid thoughts of God-knows-what, drifted off to sleep. You probably persisted in this demonstration of acedia for at least six hours, probably more. Let me ask you one question: What did you accomplish with those unconscious hours? Unless you consider applying a glaze of saliva to a very small section of your pillow and dreaming about being relentlessly chased by God’s bloodthirsty angels of love accomplishments I’d wager the answer to my question is Nothing At All.
Compare your night to mine: I read the better portion of a book, wrote a couple personal letters of venom to people Who Know What They Did, balanced my checkbook, thought fondly of a few, and cleaned the nibs of numerous fountain pens. I also realized how unnecessary sleep is, and designed the banner for this new column. You let your brain paralyze you so you wouldn’t get up in the middle of the night and run headlong into a desk.
If you ask a medical professional why it is that the human body seems to crave sleep, he’ll tell you it’s because sleep offers you a chance to heal, solidify memory, and rest after a day of work. Guess what this snake-oil salesman of a professional will forget to mention: you can heal, remember things, and rest without falling asleep. Right now I’m sitting down – a position in which the entirety of my lower body gets to rest. What’s more, I can remember what happened yesterday just fine, better even than if I’d slept this past night. I can’t address the importance of sleep for healing purposes, as I am not the kind of dolt who manages to get infected with ailments, nor am I the type of clumsy fool who injures himself during everyday activities.
Short advice: stop sleeping. You don’t need it. You do, however, need to get more done with your life if you ever want to be considered a healthy person. You probably need a haircut, and there’s a good chance there’s a drug you ought to be taking that you haven’t had prescribed to you yet. These are issues to be addressed at a later time though. For now, I’m off to anywhere that isn’t bed.

The Oscars - How Can Anybody Watch Them?

My God, America. How is it that this country can have the best entertainment industry in the world, yet when a ceremony honoring that industry is held it always manages to be one of the most incredibly painful things to watch? It defies logic.

I’m not going to address whether or not I feel the winners deserved their statuettes, since the movie that should have won every award wasn’t nominated for anything. No, what I take issue with is the fact that for whatever reason the Academy Awards always wind up taking about three and a half hours longer than they should. Am I interested in who did a good job of editing? No. Do I give a God damn about any movie that wasn’t made by an American? Lord no. Does a montage of famous people who died in the last year interest me? Yes, but only for its inherent comedic value. The point is this: It’s time for the Oscars to trim the fat, both literally and figuratively.
Here’s a list of all current awards that Americans spend time listening to thank-you speeches for:

* Best Picture
* Best Director
* Best Actor
* Best Actress
* Best Supporting Actor
* Best Supporting Actress
* Best Original Screenplay
* Best Adapted Screenplay
* Best Animated Feature
* Best Art Direction
* Best Cinematography
* Best Costume Design
* Best Documentary Feature
* Best Documentary Short Subject
* Best Film Editing
* Best Foreign Language Film
* Best Makeup
* Best Original Song
* Best Original Score
* Best Animated Short Film
* Best Live Action Short Film
* Best Sound Mixing
* Best Sound Editing
* Best Visual Effects

As you can see, there are too many awards. I'll concede that some of them are actually important, namely the top four. The rest, however, are just filler trash. Best art direction? What is that, giving an award to the guy who hung pictures on a set? No thanks. Best sound mixing? Does anyone care about some guy who sat around adjusting sliders and nobs on a mixing board? Best sound mixing (along with best original song and best original score) can go the hell back to the Grammys where they belong - and good God don't get me started on the Grammys. Animated movies are for children, and therefore should not win Oscars (we really shouldn’t encourage grown-ups to waste time in such a useless medium). As for best foreign language film, I don’t know about you, but I don’t think we can consider a piece of work that isn’t fit for the English language to contain any real sort of artistic merit. Think about it.
Another problem the Academy Awards suffers from is its disgusting presentation of obesity. You really wouldn’t expect a room full of movie stars and other Accomplished Peoples to include so many fatties, but there they are. Most of the heaviness comes from older, more accomplished stars (like the cue-balled Jack Nicholson, or the always bile-riling George Lucas), but this evening’s best actor (Forest Whitaker), as well as last year’s (Philip Seymour Hoffman) could both stand to lose some pounds. What kind of message are we sending to today’s youth if we show them overweight people who’ve somehow managed to make something of themselves? The wrong kind of message, that’s what. The least these actors could do would be to follow the Welles and Brando honored traditions of starting out at a reasonable weight before ballooning into terrifying human/zeppelin hybrids. Honestly.

Girl Scout Cookies - How Can We Improve On This Model?

Recently, this reporter was accosted by three girls (I place them somewhere between five and twelve years of age) and a woman (I assume she is the mother of this multiracial coven), all shrieking for customers to partake of their "Girl Scout Cookies!" I doubt very much that I am the only one of us who has, in the past, sampled these cookies peddles by prepubescent rodents. In fact, the Girl Scout Cookie Conglomerate makes over eight billion dollars a year, not including its investments in Darfur's lucrative human waste industry.

Generally, this is a fantastic idea. It is important to develop a sense of entrepreneurship among children, so when we finally abandon this disastrous experiment with public schools, children who cannot afford to go to Schools will know better how to enter into the free market, peddling wares to support their family (a growing one, assuming we also do away with Dangerous Contraceptives). However, there are a few changes that should be made to this system.
First, it is absolutely absurd to waste this training on girls. In this Utopian future I am laying out, girls will of course remain relegated to childbearing and midwifery, sometimes both at once. The Girl Scout Cookie Industry would do well to shift its focus from girls to boys. And yes, let's call it the Boy Scout Cookie Empire.
Next, children are well-known to be the most deceitful people alive. Many people believe that children cannot lie, but those people are just too stupid to recognize lies when a child is telling them. Truth must be learned. For this reason, most of us know that only a fool would buy something being sold by a child. People dumb enough to stop at a child-made lemonade stand are often treated to a refreshing cup of urine for their trouble. In a regular economy, children could never compete. The only reason people buy Girl Scout Cookie Products is that the children rarely stop yelling until one has purchased their products, which are generally known to be tolerable but overpriced.
For this reason, it would well-behoove us to place adults in charge of the cookie-selling department, using children as fronts (like Welch's fruit drinks). Only adults possess the guile necessary to bring these cookies to their full selling potential. Purchasing a box of cookies should not be nourishment--it should be an investment. For this reason, it may make sense to change the name to the Holy Man Scout Cookie Empire, Inc.
The Gource is not in the business of handing out free business advice. Clearly, our t-shirt emporium keeps us rolling in money, which we always put back into this Grousing Revolution. That's why the Gource is immediately copyrighting the name "Holy Man Scout Cookie Empire, Inc." When the Girl Scouts decide to get serious, they know how to reach us.

Production Values - What happened to them?

I was recently shown the following by a person claiming to be promoting the "Future of Television".





Now, I don't have the most experience with this machine, of course, aside from a very few shows of a sensible political identity. However, as a captain of infantry in the Army of Reason, and, furthermore, generally a person with correct opinions, I felt compelled to investigate this supposed future with the critical, knowing eye for quality that I am known to possess. But what I found was not a proper future at all - certainly one worlds removed from That promised Time toward which we all strive. Rather, what I have uncovered is surely another compelling sign of the pernicious decay that rages, unchecked by all but the Gource, in the senseless wasteland around us.
The eighteen minute barrage of tasteless concepts, clumsy dialogue, offensive music and overdone chase scenes that is undeservedly styled an 'episode' is a "Muffles Production". Now, just what is "Muffles?" Certainly no arm of a proper production company, nothing so accomplished as a Selznick International Pictures but rather obviously a brace of ungrateful schoolboys "on a lark" or whatever the current argot is among the unwashed.
What brave new world is this, where any two idiots can film 'television' themselves and foist it on an unresisting internet? Certainly not one in which the people in it can recognize quotations from The Tempest, nor similarly-named unrelated Renaissance paintings. "Six Months" is another sample of an uncultured world, and as much should be avoided, censured, and forcibly removed from our Inter-waves.

Valentine's Day - Isn't it Time for a Change?

Hello America, we need to talk. God knows I love you with what small amount of my being is devoted to sentiments and feelings, but these past few days I’ve had some things on my mind. I’ve been thinking about you. About us. So listen.

What is with you lately? I walk your streets, and everywhere I turn it’s shades of pink, boxes with unnecessary curves filled with sweets, chocolate hearts in the shape of teddy bears, teddy bears in the shape cocoa beans, and so on. It’s Valentine’s Day, and yes, I do have a problem with that.
“Here we go,” you might be thinking, “another senseless tirade against a cute holiday from the bile-filled chest of an embittered and disfigured man.” Wrong. I am not embittered, my face and figure are flawless, and my heart is full of love for my God and hate for you, the kind of person who jumps to wildly incorrect conclusions about what I’m actually writing about. These emotions slosh around inside me like sweet cream and tar, never mixing but always fuming. What is this obsession with true love and sappy sentiment that those with poor taste and limited coordination of this country seem to have? It’s pervasive, it’s guided by something that isn’t Logic, and it’s costing this country in more ways than one.
The most obvious threat Valentine’s Day poses is one to the collective health of this nation. All this chocolate and refined sugar are doing major damage to the physical and mental health of people who are most likely already cognitively challenged, because if you’re celebrating Valentine’s Day it’s a safe bet that you’re also probably stupid. And what do you get when you combine a stupid person with unhealthy eating habits? That’s right, A-Student Soldiers of Reason: you get a fat stupid person. Do you know how I feel about people like this? Of course you do. Don’t be one.
There is a more sinister and less apparent detriment to America caused by Valentines Day: it makes America soft, and I’m not talking about paunchy middles. All this emphasis being put on love, romance, caring, and stuffed animals is downright despicable. America is supposed to be a nation of John McClanes, John Rambos, and Terminators (sent to the past to protect the likes of John Connor). Instead we’ve got hopeless romantics running around and ruining the place, turning the country into a bunch of John Hughes fans. This has got to stop, and the change has to start with Valentine’s Day.
Listen up America: as far as the Grimary Gource is concerned Valentine’s Day no longer exists. From now on February 14th will be known as Vengeance Day, a holiday that celebrates the heartless destruction of those who have done us wrong. Put down that diamond necklace and pick up some bike chain. Take off those pink slippers and don some steel-toed boots. Buy a firearm. Get out there and let them know how you feel. Happy Vengeance Day.

Gufts Paraphernalia - Who Wears It?

While eating in the dining halls at our fine University, I noticed that many students were wearing their finest for dinner—Gufts paraphernalia. Gufts students love their Gufts sweatshirts, and their Gufts sweatpants (which they wear over their Gufts panties), and love sipping on their Gufts nalgene bottles, and putting keys on their Gufts lanyards, which they carry in their Gufts backpacks, while sporting their Gufts hats, while walking on their Gufts sandals. At first, I couldn’t understand why anyone would spend so much money on something so silly. Then I devised a brilliant theory: the bearer of Gufts merchandise acquires superhuman powers—the more you wear the more powerful you are. To me this was the only fathomable reason why someone would willingly choose to look so tacky.
Later I realized that this theory couldn’t possibly be true for two reasons. The first, no one was flying, which is the most popular superhuman power in the world. The second, no one was dead, which is the most popular way to use superhuman powers. Experimentation became necessary, I decided to don Guftswear and find out what all the hubbub was about.
I wore a Gufts sweatshirt, and Gufts sweatpants (that were artfully tucked into a pair of Gufts Uggs), and let the experiment begin. While walking around on campus, people who weren’t sporting their Gufts goods would be really nice to me. They would help me across the street, carry my tray in the dining halls, read my assignments for class out loud for me, and give me lots of high fives. It wasn’t until some dude offered to be my coach for the Special Olympics till I realized that the Gufts wear was for the mentally challenged. The Gufts goods are to be used to remind whoever wears them that they go to Gufts (as they are likely to forget, duh), and to signal to the non-tards that they need assistance. Upon further speculation, this realization also explains why the campus is so ugly. Mystery Solved.

Snow Days - Why Do Schools Have Them?

The Grimary Gource’s Ear in Baltimore reported yesterday to HQ that several Baltimore schools had been closed due to very little snow. A Gource Grouser in Ohio reported similar facts. Boston, however, also felt a great deal of snow, but classes were carried on as usual. At this point, readers are probably wondering: who’s in the right?

Boston is. It is wholly ridiculous to close classes due to snow. A recent study by the University of Harvard (soon to be defunct) showed that most students learn absolutely nothing when not in the classroom (this is by no means to suggest that homework is not a worthwhile endeavor; it keeps children off the streets). Closing classes will make children one day stupider, and thus they will fall behind the schools that have not been closed. This is exactly the reason why Boston has so many of America’s upper-tier schools, while Ohio and Baltimore are known primarily for student riots and other errors due to lack of education.
Regardless of how heavy a snow is, schools should remain open. The students who want it the most will be the ones who make it to school, and they will be duly rewarded by being a day ahead of their classmates in education. It is well documented that Albert Einstein never missed a day of school his entire life, including weekends and his middle age. As a result, he was a fantastic student and would one day come up with a way to kill more Japanese than had ever been killed before. Schooled.

Women Educators - How Are We Going to Swing That?

Recently, the United States' oldest institution of Smarter Learning, Harvard University, announced that its next President will be a woman. Call the Gource conservative if you will, but we find ourselves looking to recent history for the future of this school.
It is not difficult to recall the prophetic words of Harvard's previous president, who noted that, according to his exhaustive research, women are far less able than men to do simple arithmetic or any sort of chemistry beyond cooking. He suggested that further research could prove that the reason for this inability came directly from the Missing Portion of women's brains, known colloquially as the Math Cortex. Since he made this statement, a lab at M.I.T. managed to prove that not only was he completely correct, but he may have been eerily accurate in his predictions. The Gource is certain that this is the case.
No one would ever put forth the notion that women are inherently unable to write, or examine history, or knit. The only areas in which they have no level of sexpertise are the Maths and the Sciences. This will not be a hindrance to a woman's career (unless she still imagines herself a biologist), but it will destroy Harvard University, long a bastion of Intelligence and Reason.
This new president of Harvard will certainly bring Harvard's scientific and mathematic community down. Her natural inclination to staring out a window and writing poetry will make Harvard the new Oberlin. No longer will Harvard be a place from which students can have been proud to graduate: a Harvard degree will mean less than a degree from the DeVry Institute of Ice Cream Making. If this trend keeps up, the Grimary Gource may be the only thing holding up the mantle of Proper Education for the Elite. Stay with us: We will never be run by women.

False Adjectives: Isn’t it Time You Stopped Using Them?

For a long time, the Grimary Gource has been staunch and unwavering in its complete accuracy in all matters discussed in this page. Through the dual means of Strict Method and Absolute Faith, all things can be correctly divined in and of this world. It would be absolutely absurd to begin to rely on scientific theories that have no basis in the root of science, Sir Isaac Newton (a hero and American patriot). If, for example, one were to claim that all items fall at the same velocity, the Grimary Gource can confidently point to Sir Newton’s work to disprove such a laughable notion.
The same is true of language, as well. The English language has its very roots in the first Bible, written by Guttenberg. For this reason, the Grimary Gource stands firm against all deviations from the roots of the English language. This is a massive undertaking, and one that nothing but the Gource is prepared to handle.
First, we shall here excise all False Adjectives. To those of you who went to public school* (and bully for you for wising up enough to read this!) and thus didn’t get to hear about False Adjectives because you were too busy learning about how to perform an abortion with a clothespin: False Adjectives are proper nouns with important suffices added to the end, masquerading as Real Adjectives. Here is a handy table so you can get a sense of the difference:


Let’s go through them one by one. “Freudian” is of course derived from Sigmund Freud, the father of modern psychoanalysis. The fact that all psychoanalysis stems from his brilliance means that psychoanalysis is, by definition, Freudian. This adjective is not only an imposter within the English language; it is also wholly redundant.
“Reaganesque” comes from Ronald Reagan, the fourth Real President of the United States. He was known for his endearing storytelling method, where he would begin to tell a story, and then halfway through forget what story he was telling and conclude with an unrelated limerick. A brilliant and noble statesman, wholly worthy of an airport to be named after him, it does his legacy an injustice to continue to remember him. We should treat him the way he treated affairs of state—allow them to fade with dementia.
“Orwellian” bears the distinction of being the only one of these False Adjectives to have been created by the person for whom it is named, George Orwell. When he first published Animal Farm, he titled it Animal Farm: An Orwellian Tale by George Orwell. The fact that “Orwellian” referred to the book’s ability to captivate was completely lost on most readers, so when his predictive but ultimately error-riddled 1984 came out, each and every review used the word “Orwellian” to describe it. Orwell thought it an elaborate joke on our language. We should not allow him to have the same effect on our adjectives as he has on our older, male siblings.
All of Kafka’s texts take a man who is thrust into a complex, maze-like scenario, from which squirming only makes him penetrate deeper. Remind you of anything? “Kafkaesque” was coined by schoolchildren who wanted another way of expressing their confused and inappropriate sexual feelings. If someone tries to call sex with you “a real Kafkaesque experience” kick her out of your bed and inform her that she arouses you. That should set her straight.

It is important that we not allow the English language to slip out of our hands and become something far, far worse (Spanish). The only way to prevent this from happening is by paying strict attention to the words of the Bible and not using any language structure not found there. Don’t be afraid to correct someone. They’re not afraid to poison your airspace with False Adjectives.

*Please note that public schools differ from Perfect Public Schools, the likes of which Guiles Gonoughan mentions attending in his memoirs.

Technology Corner #1

It’s time for the inaugural installment of…



That’s right folks - it’s time for me to tell you about the important technologies of the present time. Now, as you are already reading this website I’m going to trust that you’ve got a pretty good handle on how the internet works (you’d have to, in order to get to a URL as exclusive and excellent as this one), so I’m not going to waste space in this column explaining what things like “.php” and “~/superindex.go” mean in the context of the vast and dangerous internet. You don’t need the kind of trivial-pursuit-of-sadness knowledge that bespectacled teenagers with glandular problems hold in such high regard – no – you need facts. Facts and my opinions. Let’s compile, tech-minded readers.

Windows Vista – Why Haven’t You Bought a New Computer Just So You Can Install it Already?

It’s been quite awhile since we (and by “we” I mean “technology consumers of America) have had the opportunity to receive a brand new operating system from the Best Technology Company in the world – Microsoft. If you spend a lot of time on the internet, especially in places that report on technology news, or involve discussion of things of a technological nature you are bound to find a lot of people saying mean things about Microsoft at a fairly constant rate. If you think about it, this should really come as no surprise to anyone, just consider how many poorly-educated and hardly-washed members of the American community complain about our current administration despite said administration’s high levels of competence and fairness. Microsoft occupies a similar position in the world of technology – highly effective, infinitely admirable, and perpetually complained-about.
I’ve gotten off track though. What’s important is that Microsoft has just released their newest operating system unto the world – Windows Vista. This is the newest iteration of windows since the release of XP back in The Day (October 2001), and it’s putting the “fuck you, OSX” back into the popular phrase “fuck you OSX, OSX is for prissy ladies and men in turtlenecks.” Why is this? I’ll tell you. In addition to adding heaps of security features (users will reportedly no longer need to install ten to twelve additional programs onto their machines just to keep them safe during regular usage) Vista has just a magnificent kind of interface. In fact, so full of shiny buttons and super-rendered menu-bar textures is Microsoft’s newest operating system most people in the world would have to buy brand new computers just to run it. This. Is. So. Smart.
In case you haven’t noticed – and I trust you have – technology these days just isn’t as nice as it used to be. Ever since every almost-human, baseball-cap-wearing, beer-swilling retard was introduced to iPods and Firefox technology has become an ugly place – the kind of place that lets just anyone in. Windows Vista signals a return to the highly desirable and extremely necessary ideals of elitism that were once standard in the realm of things computerological. Enjoy it while it lasts, affluent and informed Americans, because it’s only a matter of time before the cost of producing today’s latest and greatest drops the technology into tomorrow’s bargain bins, once again flooding the right-clicking world with people who’re lucky to have evolved thumbs.

Far-Flung Correspondent’s Report: Rallies: Why Aren’t They Illegal?

This weekend, I went to Washington, D.C. to plant a cherry tree on the Washington Mall. A bit sappy, I admit, but it is my way of showing America that I care. In this instance, the cherry tree is meant to bring public attention to the long history of presidential crimes (remember that old tale of John Quincy Adams fellating a cherry tree?), thus suggesting that rather than “presidents” or “congresses” or “a judicial branch,” what America needs is a Gilosopher Ging. Hint, hint.

Anyway, my enjoyment of this tree-planting event was greatly marred by the presence of some fifty people who were walking around and shouting obscure slogans. It’s hard to say what it was they wanted (their posters ranged from such messages as “U.S. Out of Iraq!” to “Israel Out of Palestine!” to “Abortion is Murder!” to “Deport All Asians!”), but their overall goal appeared to be inconveniencing ordinary, brilliant citizens, like this author.
Long ago, the United States demonstrated the wisdom and foresight to create a city that would be almost entirely black and poor. We called it Washington, D.C., after George Washington Carver, a folk hero in black tradition. We then started sending white missionaries into this area (we call them “politicians”), but many were afraid to take residence there, so they bought houses in surrounding suburbs and commuted in using Washington, D.C.’s terrific public transit system.
Now, ever since some radical Marxists got it into their heads that rallies are effective ways of bringing change, every few months a huge number of white people pour into the city, not only confusing the local denizens but obstructing the missionaries from their goals of a White America by 2013.
And these are not your ordinary white people. You know which kind these are. Dreadlocked. If you haven’t observed this phenomenon, consider yourself lucky. A recent report by The Institute for Careful Study noted that nearly 88% of all white radicals wear their hair in dreadlocks. They are also often very tan, and occasionally wear blackface. Know your facts. Now, I enjoy a good minstrel show tap routine as much as the next (white) man, but there is a time and a place for it, and this weekend in Washington, D.C. is neither.
I plead with you, should any wrongheaded radicals be reading this: leave your protests at home. Conduct a hunger strike. Set yourself on fire. Put yourself under house arrest. Nobody wants to see you whining. Now you know.

Waiters - Why Do They Bother Speaking?

I’ve just about had it with people in the service industry. I eagerly anticipate the age of robotic service and murdered waiters that is sure to immediately follow the Singularity. I haven’t always held such hateful sentiments towards the subdivision of the working class I’m forced to deal with anytime I enter a store, restaurant, or (God forbid) airport. Recently though things have gotten seriously out of hand.
Last week I found myself eating dinner in a sensibly priced restaurant. Who I was with, why I was there, and what I ordered are all immaterial, so put your curiosity to bed. The evening started out nicely enough – I was brought a Coke with the right amount of ice, the silverware appeared clean, and the establishment’s lighting was sufficient. However, things started to unravel when our server – a veritable wall of terror – first addressed the table.
Usually I hate to waste time on details describing people who do not deserve to be alive, but in order to really explain how awful this waitress was a brief rundown of her physical appearance is necessary. Imagine, if you will, a gazebo that has had pillows taped all over it, covering every exterior surface. You have just imagined the woman I had to deal with that evening. It was bad enough that she was hideous (you no doubt already know how I feel about ugly people), but things only got worse when she began to speak. Her voice sounded like a pig that had swallowed Fran Drescher whole, and that was now squealing and crying because the actress was both kicking and laughing inside the animal’s stomach. It was like having daggers of sound driven into my ears as this disgrace to gazebos everywhere described the specials of the night.
This brings me to another issue I have with waiters everywhere. It makes no sense to tell me the specials of the evening after I’ve already sat down at the table. Anyone who knows me and who knows how to live their life should be entirely aware that having a clear plan of action for all things is the most important thing ever (ever!). As such I arrive at a restaurant entirely certain of what it is I want to eat. If the restaurant doesn’t have the dish I desire I walk right out, and if the waiters at the restaurant assume that I’m some kind of foresight-blind rube who can’t make a plan by handing me a menu and rattling off a list of specials (that inevitably contain mango-something) I become quietly enraged.
Waiters, servers, busboys, Maître d's, valets, and other assorted restaurant-type employees, take note: please do not talk to me unless there is a very good reason – like to inform me that my meal is gratis, because I deserve it.

Taking the Airwaves by Storm - Shouldn't You Listen?

Hello there, loyal readers. I know, I know, it's been far too long. I have been extremely busy with a number of projects (my book, setting up the Grousecast, organizing my collection of anti-transcendentalist literature, solving the world's problems) and as a result I have not been paying enough attention to this, my most direct outlet to the literate masses. But take heart, for I have something special to share with you this evening. My associate and myself were both invited onto a radio show here at Gufts University, where we made our audio debut to the general English-speaking, radio-operating public. Unfortunately we were forced to share the studio with the show's host, an insufferable liberal and borderline hippie. Even worse, two wacky morning DJ's from America's gayest city were there as well, hogging the microphones and making a mockery of the complex art of radio broadcasting. Despite these horrendous obstacles to the transmission of rational thought Guffin and I managed to shine some of our Glorious Ideas from the transmitting tower. The recording of the whole show can be found online. Click on the "last show" link under "Loud, Fast, and Out of Control." I know, it is a silly name.

Families - What in the World is Wrong with Them?

I have often felt that the Grimary Gource could use a bit more human interest subject matter. While deciding what would make for interesting reading I got an e-mail from my Aunt Gellen, who lives in Gakewood, CA and owns and operates a Jewish bookstore. Now, from just this information you could easily reason that by now I would have marked her address as "Spam" and be done with that business. But I have found that her missives to me make me so furious I arrive at just the correct temprament for composing these tributes to fortitude.
As it happens, my Aunt Gellen somehow stumbled upon this website while looking for information on diabetes or something, and has since taken to reading it every day. If you look here, you can see a list of the locations of the Gource's visitors. She is the one in Israel. No, she doesn't live in Israel. She routes her internet through an Israeli service, just to be contrary. Yes, this is indicative of the problem with her. No, it isn't the whole problem.
Since beginning to read the Gource, she has daily (sometimes twice-daily) e-mailed me to condemn me for the Truths contained within my writings and those of my colleagues. I shall henceforth post her e-mails, and respond here rather than to her privately. My hope is that she will be so embarrassed by her errors made public that she will cut off contact with me entirely, and perhaps retire to a life of lip balm-collecting. Here is her e-mail, in toto:

Guffin:
Once again I find myself completely appalled by your writing in that blog of yours. Gource Feathers, I call it. In a recent essay (I call them "messays"), you wrote:
"How do women expect men to take them seriously if they continue to wear makeup and high heels? Also, how do women expect to find a man if they continue to hold jobs? Are they just doing their best to be a burden on all observers of the weaker sex? And what about baseball? Is that still in season?"
On top of the generally poor quality of writing here (I call it "wronging"), you degrade all women, everywhere, with your sexist behavior and womanizing [sic*] antics. I am ashamed to call you a part of my family (I call it "shamily").

Offendedly,
Gellen

Now, Aunt Gellen, please allow me to respond in kind:

Fuck you.

*Is womanizing even a word? I mean, seriously. Does it mean turning someone into a woman, the same way colonizing means turning something into a colony? Game, set, snatch.

New Year's, New Jeers

That annual day has arrived where people allow themselves the pleasure of watching Dick Clark bike toward death and the disappointment of watching so many people gather in New York City without a natural disaster neutralizing them. Many publications that attempt snark claim that it is a time for resolutions, but they do not need them because they are perfect. The Gource has given this the thought it deserves (almost none) and realized that there is definitely no perfection to be found outside this blog, so it well-behooves us all to make resolutions. Here, then, is an enumerated list of The Gource's resolutions:

1. Grouse More, More
2. More Personal Attacks - Many peopls have been getting by this year with a Gource Warning. No longer. The Gource is instituting a "no-tolerance" policy toward any and all untoward behavior. Watch your ass, Ray Billingsley.
3. None.

It is not unreasonable to stop here. In fact, it is clearly wise. You, reader, can look forward to much more of the same Gource you've come to expect, appreciate, and trust in this past Galendar Year.

Grimerry Gourcemas

That’s right readers, it’s that special day – the anniversary of the birth of the son of this universe’s most wonderful and vengeful (and only) God. While I’m sure most everyone has opened their presents and enjoyed their disappointment by now, we here at the Gource would like to wish you a happy holiday (Christmas – not that other, harder-to-spell one). And of course we’d be first-class nosebleeds not to offer you, the loyal readers, some kind of gift. However, this being the Internet and our devotees being so numerous we haven’t got anything physical/returnable for you. Instead, allow me to present what great new things you readers of the Gource have to look forward to.

More excerpts from my autobiography, a work that is certain to be one of the upcoming year’s most popular sellers/life-changers. Bear in mind that what is posted here does not reflect the numerous changes that are sure to be made during the publishing process, wherein the printmonkeys will no doubt remedy my “typos” and “grammatical errors,” rendering a work that doesn’t truly reflect my ability to convey Incredible Thought.


With headphone ownership on the rise coupled with the fact that both Guffin and myself have magnificent speaking voices, we have decided to join the audiocasting masses. Note – this is not a “podcast,” a term I take issue with for numerous reasons, the likes of which you can read about in…


That’s right, in addition to knowing how to solve the majority of the world’s problems I’m also well-read enough in the technological realm to solve the sort of problems the computer-using elderly need to dial India to fix. However, this segment will not just be me explaining how to get your computer into and out of Safe Mode (Windows users – hold F8 as your machine boots up, pretentious OSX’ers – hold Shift after powering on), instead it will be a place where I will make known my opinions on the issues and developments in the world of technology. Think Slashdot, but without all the coke-bottle-spectacled, Linux-running swine making Simpsons references in the comments section.

Are you ready for the New Year, soldiers of Reason?