Beast Banner August 2008
ISSUE #129
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Features

ArrowA PROLEGEMONOUS EPISTLE FROM EUSTACE TILLEY
The New Yorker mascot on this Obama cover balderdash

ArrowTERROR ALERT!
The absolutely true story of how The BEAST smuggled al Qaeda into the U.S.
Ian Murphy

ArrowTOP 10 IDIOCIES OF THE GENERAL ELECTION--SO FAR
It's a list--you like lists!
Allan Uthman

ArrowZIRINTERVIEW!
Sportswriter Dave Zirin stoops to our level

ArrowTHE ASSHOLE DISEASE
The 'Empathy Deficit Disorder' epidemic
Eric Lingenfelter

ArrowSPECIAL IRAN WAR PREVIEW!
The sequels just keep coming!
Paul Jones

ArrowCATASTROPHE IN CHIEF
The end of the American empire
Stan Goff

Arrow7 DIRTY WORDS YOU'D NEVER HEAR TODAY
Carlin was one cool [expletive deleted]
Allison Kilkenny

Departments

ArrowThe Beast Page 5
Phony Autistic Baby

ArrowWaxy Beast: Music Reviews
by Eric Lingenfelter

ArrowKino Kwikees: Movie Trailer Reviews
by Michael Gildea

ArrowBEAST-O-Scopes
Your completely accurate horoscope

[sic] - We ridicule your letters

 

A Prolegemenous Epistle from Eustace Tilley

Salutations to the ungulates, quadrumanes and bivalves who read The BEAST. The scrofulous lungfish whose names monthly deface this tabloid’s masthead have dragooned me into offering, for your ill-advised consumption, this, their latest veneficial confection. It has been produced, I can attest, with matchless sloth; succeeded by the most virtuosic, pell-mell slubbering. Plantations worth of cigarettes were expended in its making—enough to empurple all of Turkey—and there hovers now over Buffalo in testament to their fevered, eleventh-hour lucubrations an uncleansable miasma that makes Beijing look like Bora Bora. Their living quarters boast a retinue of vermin sufficient to scuttle an African safari. And I confess that, before meeting them, I was hitherto ignorant of the illimitable range of thoughts and emotions which flatulence and eructation may express.

I should like to examine, with exceeding brevity, the manufactured batrachomyomachy that has lately seized the national consciousness. I refer, of course, to the New Yorker’s caricaturing of rightwing depictions of Barack and Michelle Obama. The range of reactions runs the quite brief gamut from hysterically indignant ululations, to the scandalous suggestion that this elegant japery might somehow be misinterpreted as a faithful portraiture. Bosh! Poppycock! Balderdash! Twaddle! Flummery! Humbug! One rather quickly exhausts the lexicon of rarefied, monocle-cracking ejaculations.

No reaction has been so unwelcome as that of Senator Obama himself. What cheek! The immortal rind on this preening arriviste! As if the saccharine fables this Aesop of the basketball blacktop has sold to the American electorate are somehow less offensive than the masterful gibes of the New Yorker. We even omitted the joke about him renaming the White House “Cockayne.” To those of you who think slopping the rest of the country with jejune pablum—which the American booboisie finds so insatiably comestible—will reverse the plague of this country’s intellectual undernourishment, I bid you all Godspeed to Nephelococcygia.

For the rest of you, who may have struggled to remain afloat in the current of my fluent urbanities, I toss you this pestilent life preserver from Buffalo. Cling to it gloved, and at your own considerable risk.



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