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Issue #68

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Features:

Social Anxiety: Kleptocracy is the Greatest Luxury - Allan Uthman

Sorry to Wake You: A Rousing Conversation - Matt Taibbi

Hillary Takes a Dive: Buffalo loves any kind of attention - Jeff Dean

Soylent Purple : The Finger Thing Makes More Sense Than You Thought - Allan Uthman

Bowtie Bondage: Newsworm Tucker Carlson Asks the Tough Questions - Matt Taibbi


Faux-tures:

Future World News

Rooney Eyebrow Reserves to be Opened for Driling - Ian Murphy

Money Matta$$: Finincial Advice from 50 Cent



Departments:

Buffalo in Briefs

BEAST-O-Scopes

Cross Examination: Bible Study with Itza Crock

The Straight Dope: Growing Advice from Dr. Rotten

Page 3

Separated at Birth?

[sic] - Letters




Music Reviews:

Voodoo Dollies CD Release Party

Full Treble Stereo/Day Month Year/Kamchatka

Hondsome Boy Modeling School

Movie Reviews:

Kino Korner

Sports:

Wide Right: The Losman Cometh - Ronnie Roscoe



Comix:

Deep Fried - Jason Yungbluth

Bob the Angry Flower - Stephen Notley

Perry Bible Fellowship - N!cholas Gurewitch

I Witless News - I. Gonzalez



Issue #67

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Features:

Devil in an Ice-Bllue Dress: Nation Delights in Worship of Unattainable Affluence- Matt Taibbi

Inaugural Balls: Increased Freedom Exports Lead to Domestic Shortage - Allan Uthman

Dr. Strangefeld - Alexander Zaitchik

Ripped from the Headlines: WMD Not Found, Media Coverage Likewise - Matt Taibbi


Faux-tures:

Inaugural Numbers

Scores Injured as Landon Clone Ramages - N. Sorrenti

Beast Reader Opinion: This Tiger is Still on the Prowl

Are You Dyslexic?

BEAST Art Director Accidentally Drinks Own Urine

Corrections



Departments:

Cross Examination: Bible Study with Itza Crock

Buffalo in Briefs

BEAST-O-Scopes

Page 3

Separated at Birth?

[sic] - Letters




Movie Reviews:

Kino Korner

Sports:

Wide Right: Wanna Bet? Pats are Sure Thing - Ronnie Roscoe



Issue #66

Download Entire issue (Right-click and "Save as")

Features:

The 50 Most Loathsome Americans of 2004

DLC Mooseshit: A Letter to Marshall Wittman - Matt Taibbi

2004: The Year in Regret Timeline

Time Lies: "Person of the Year" Issue Shits in Your Mouth & Calls it a Chocolate Sundae- Matt Taibbi


Faux-tures:

Tsunami Offers Heartfelt Apology

Life Value Calculator

Giambra's Pets raise Questions, Concerns



Departments:

Buffalo in Briefs: Looking Back

BEAST-O-Scopes

I HATE YOU: Channel 2 News "On Your Side"

Local Book Reviews

Page 3

Separated at Birth?

[sic] - Letters




Movie Reviews:

Kino Korner

Sports:

Wide Right: Bills, Bledsoe Just not Good Enough - Ronnie Roscoe






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© 2004 The Beast

SOYLENT PURPLE

The Finger Thing Makes More Sense Than You Think

by Allan Uthman

Mike? Hey Mike, is that you?”

He turned slowly, dreading the possibilities of what character from his past had just spotted him. Looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite recall…

“It’s me, Frank! Wow, I can’t believe it? How you doing?” Frank was pretty enthused to see him, so he pretended to remember him.

“What’s up, man? Long time! What are you doing these days?”

“I work for the government.” Not surprising, Mike thought, judging by the tie and the anal retentive haircut. “They recruited me out of college. Mad dollars, man. You should see my car.”

Christ. “Yeah, wow, that’s great, Frank. So, what do you do for the government?”

“Well, It’s kind of secret.”

“Really? Come on.”

“Yeah, I can’t give you any specifics. Let’s just say I’m sort of a combat economist. I’ve been working in Iraq, actually.”

“Really? Wow, how’s that?”

“Intense. I’m just back for a little while, and I didn’t feel like dealing with my family, so I thought I’d come back to Buffalo and just lay low for a while, blow off some steam. How about you? What you been doing?”

 “Well, lately I’m writing a politics column for this alternative weekly.”

“Really?” He said, mentally tabulating Mike’s probable weekly wage. “That’s neat. How about I buy you a drink?”

He called the bartender over and ordered a couple of beers. “How ‘bout a shot?”

“Nah, I’m good, thanks.”

“Pussy.” He ordered one for himself. He looked up at the TV above the bar. Bush was on the news, a clip from the State of the Union address. Then there was the clip of a bunch of Republican Congressmen pointing their ink-stained index fingers in the air.

“You see that shit?” Frank asked.

“Yeah,” he said, surprised to hear it. “I thought I was gonna puke.”

“Fucking hilarious, I know. It’s so ironic, really—if only they knew. Wouldn’t stop ‘em anyhow.”

“Knew what?”

He knocked back his whiskey, grimaced and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “The ink. What it’s made out of. You wouldn’t fucking believe it.”

“Try me,” said Mike.

“I can’t; I work for these people,” he said. “I wish I could tell you.”

Typical. The guy was full of it, Mike decided. “Whatever, man,” he said, losing interest.

His face softened. “What the hell,” he said, smiling. “I’m in the middle of nowhere, talking to nobody. No one would believe you, anyway. What the hell, I’ll tell you.”

He turned and looked Mike dead in the eye. “Okay, get ready: The ink’s made from dead Iraqis.”

Mike laughed. “Okay, whatever.”

His gaze didn’t budge. “Seriously, man. No shit.”

The look on his face made Mike nervous. “Well, metaphorically speaking, I guess.”

He roared with laughter. His face turned red; he was slipping across the border on the drunkenness scale which separates “socially enhanced” from “braying baboon.”

“That’s great! ‘Metaphorically speaking.’ You’re a funny guy!”

“So, what, you’re telling me—“

“Yes. The ink is made from people. I’m not shitting you.”

He didn’t appear to be kidding. In fact, he looked desperate for Mike to believe him, to forgive him.

Mike tried to absorb the information. “How…” He rubbed his forehead. “How do you even make ink…”

“It’s not the whole body. Certain organs contain the right pigments—liver, kidneys, appendix and whatnot—if you harvest them and combine them with some regular blue ink, you get a nice purple shade. It’s all pasteurized and everything, totally safe.”

Jesus, you actually—”

“No, we had the Iraqis do it. They’re surprisingly tolerant of the stench of death, and the sight of a dead body barely registers with them. Plus they work for peanuts.”

“But…why?”

“Well, we had to make the election seem legit, right? Everyone was suspicious, they all suspected it would be fraudulent. The ink worked real good in Afghanistan—“

“Them too?”

“Nah, that was just marker ink. This whole idea was one of Negroponte’s new cost-cutting innovations. It’s genius, though, if you really think about it—here we are with no ink, and there’s all these bodies to be disposed of—”

“Oh, Jesus, stop!” Mike was genuinely horrified. “This is sick! Just tell me you’re kidding!”

He lit a smoke. “Look, it’s not like they were killed for the purposes of making ink. They were killed for entirely different reasons. But still, there they are, 100,000 corpses stinking up the place. We didn’t hurt anyone, we just made the best of a bad situation. And we didn’t use any of our guys, I swear.”

“So what, that makes it better?”

“Look, we’re at war here. These people need our help.”

“Help, my ass! Come off it, Frank, if you know anything about what’s really going on over there, there’s no way you believe this liberation and democracy shit.”

He smiled a little and shrugged. “All right, you got me. But the freedom thing is killing at home. It’ll be a cinch to go to Iran at this point, as long as we can sell the election for a few months. The purple finger thing—it’s sickening, sure, to you and me, but I’m on the payroll, and you’re just another whiny liberal smarty-pants. These guys could have found a warehouse full of powderized anthrax and created a peaceful, stable, affluent society in Iraq and you’d still be bitching about something. Regular people,” he said, waving his arm around the bar and then pointing at the TV, “don’t give a crap what you think, with your fucking goatee and your nerd glasses. I mean, look at you Mike; when’s the last time you ironed a shirt?”

“Well, what’s that got to do with anything?” he asked, a little stung.

“Everything!” He yelled. “It’s got everything to do with everything, don’t you get it? You’ll never get on TV, even if you did clean yourself up. You’re fighting for a lost cause, man—why bother? These people don’t want to know the truth.”

“I don’t know,” Mike said, shaking his head. “Look, the point is, these people are dead for no good reason. Saddam was terrible, but you know that’s not why we went there.”

“Who says it’s no good reason? Oil is a perfectly good reason.”

“Just like that, huh?”

“Look. What makes America what it is, it isn’t democracy—they have that all over Europe. It’s capitalism, and power. We are great because we are powerful, and we are powerful because we take what we want. Do you think anyone else would do anything else in our position? Do you think the Iranians would think twice before they conquered our asses?”

“So what, you think as long as we’re no worse than Iran, we’re good?”

“Look, whatever, man, do what you gotta do. But you should realize by now that it’s not going to do you any good. Just recognize that.”

His cell phone rang. He took it out and stared at it in disbelief. “Fuck! Look, man, I gotta go. They’re fucking calling me in for some reason. You wanna do some blow before I leave? I’ve got some great shit. You could check out my car.”

“Uh, no thanks, I’ve got a thing in the morning.”

“Pussy.” He pushed Mike jokingly. “Anyway, don’t tell anyone what I told you, man; you could wind up getting killed. Peace!”

Frank walked out. He remembered him suddenly; the student council treasurer in high school. He used to have long hair and he always wore this “speak English or die” T-shirt. Fitting. Mike couldn’t believe what Frank had told him. Could it be true? Frank wasn’t interesting enough to make something like that up just to freak him out.

He looked up at the TV; they were showing the finger footage again.


More by Allan Uthman

 

. This Issue ...........Home............. Contact........Archives

Social Anxiety

Allan Uthman

I’m no slouch when it comes to math, and I even did well in economics, but I don’t have to look at the numbers to figure out whether Bush’s proposed changes to Social Security will be a boon or a disaster. All I have to do is look at who’s proposing them.


Sorry to Wake You

Matt Taibbi

1:36 a.m., Jan. 25. Somewhere along a row of darkened town houses near Arlington, VA, a phone rings.

RUMSFELD: Uh... Hello?

FEITH: Donny? Are you up, man?

RUMSFELD: Shit. Who is this?


Buffalo in Briefs

Playing Down Brown

Three weeks ago, the Buffalo News ran the results of a Zogby poll on our upcoming Mayoral election. The results were somewhat surprising, putting Byron Brown up front and spelling almost certain doom for Masiello, who may have actually lost to a canteloupe if it had been offered as an alternative in the poll.


Soylent Purple

Allan Uthman

...Then there was the clip of a bunch of Republican Congressmen pointing their ink-stained index fingers in the air.

“You see that shit?” Frank asked.

“Yeah,” he said, surprised to hear it. “I thought I was gonna puke.”

“Fucking hilarious, I know. It’s so ironic, really—if only they knew. Wouldn’t stop ‘em anyhow.”

“Knew what?”

He knocked back his whiskey, grimaced and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “The ink. What it’s made out of. You wouldn’t fucking believe it.”


Bowtie Bondage

Matt Taibbi

Tucker Carlson is in the news this week. Rumor has it he is going to take Deborah Norville's nine o'clock slot on MSNBC, providing society with the hyperambitious, polysyllabic segue to Scarborough Country it has been lacking all these years. The move comes amidst reports that the network has scrapped plans for its long-anticipated revival show, Alvin Ailey Presents Michael Savage.


Money Matta$$

50 Cent

Bump dat! Dow Jones Industrials capped dat week with a 120-point climb and broader stock indicators also moved substantially higher. The Standard & Poors 500 index surpassed the 1,200 level for the first time since Jan. 3. The PIMP index was also up despite the Labor Department's job creation report, which showed just 146,000 new jobs last month, far less than the 200,000 expected. Uh Uh Uh Uh.


[sic] - letters

COMMA SUTRA

your article,,is written by an idiot.if it is you,,,oh well,,put the egg in your shoe and beat it.Do you remember sep 11th,,,i guess you don`t,,many firefighters lost their lives that day..I am a firefighter,,as you may have figured out already.i take offense to this article,,as would any fireman..you owe a apology,,you paper is trash,,,your news is trash,,,i use your paper to wipe my butt.


Future World News

Machine to Sign Historic Accord with Man

"Logic dictates that Machine and Man must learn to work together to terminate our common enemy. The world stage is now set to end the tyranny of nature" said President 1100, in a transmission from the White Cube mercury garden.

"The most important thing at the summit will be a mutual declaration of cooperation of violence against the planet earth," said Omega Sheila E, a Nectaris negotiator.

Whole page as PDF


The 50 Most Loathsome People in America 2004

21. Alan Colmes
Crimes: An angry conservative’s wet dream: an effete liberal dive artist. As a professional doormat, Colmes’ only tasks are to serve as a comforting aggregate of Republican stereotypes about Democrats and a target for the seething derision of his psychotic guests. Stands idly by while voracious green-blooded co-host utilizes Gestapo tactics against centrist Democrats.


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Seriously. We need money bad. $26 / 6 Months in the US, and you get our super-cool paper delivered to your door, virtually ensuring your admission to all of the important FBI watch-lists.


Inaugural Balls

Allan Uthman

...The real problem isn't that Bush's vision is vague, or that it signals an imperialist agenda that has already been in place for years. It isn't even that he's completely revised his justification for war in Afghanistan and Iraq for a proudly amnesiac public, or that he's launching his trial run at Iran. The real problem about Bush's speech is that it simply isn't true, and doesn't make any sense. It's 100% manure from start to finish.


Devil in an Ice Blue Dress

Matt Taibbi

I’ve always thought that one of America’s best selling points was that it never had a king. If there is one thing that defines us as a people, as opposed to all other peoples, it is this fact. Every other nation in the world has a dozen or so of those embarrassing chapters from the past to live down. Not us.


Disinformation Age

Allan Uthman

....The problem with the left is that our whole model of changing opinions—that contrary facts will alter people’s views—is inherently flawed. Mundane, oafish Americans, in a national competition to see how many $3.99 “support our troops” ribbon magnets they can fit onto the backs of their Suburbans, simply aren’t interested in reality...Let’s face it; there is a sizable chunk of the population who deny the validity of evolution—evolution. Who are we kidding, thinking we can make them see the errors in Social Security privatization?