MODERN WISDOM: AMERICA’S ONLY HUMOR MAGAZINE NUMBER 181 NOVEMBER 2013

MODERN WISDOM: AMERICA’S ONLY HUMOR MAGAZINE
NUMBER 181
NOVEMBER  2013
Copyright 2013 Francis DiMenno
http://dimenno.gather.com
dimenno@gmail.com

AND NOW…MODERN WISDOM PRESENTS:

1. PRIVATE INTELLECTUAL
2. BREED ON WASTE
3. CITY OF NO FLIES
4. HEAVEM
5. LAZY PITYTOWN
6. FOOLISH MEN, FOOLISH WOMEN
7. FANTASY HILL
8. DOES BERESHIT IN THE WOODS?
9. MONTY MOOLAH
10. JUNKIE DETECTIVE
11. BROTHER FOR A DAY
12. FOR SOME REASON
13. THE MARX
14. ARISTOCRAT FREAK
15. RAINBOW PAYOLA
16. HITLERMAN
17. ENCHIRODON GO AWAY (I’M NO GOOD FOR YOU)
18. DULSANE & MADBRIGHT
19. KAN-YA-MAN-KAN
20. SCHIZO KILLER

21. NOIR MISFORTUNE COOKIES: ELEVENTH SERIES

1001. It’s your moment in the sun–and you’ll get burned.
1002. You act as if there’s no tomorrow–and there isn’t.
1003. You’ll stake your life on it–and you’ll lose that bet.
1004. They’ll lock up the key–and throw you away.
1005. You are a gold mine of information–Fool’s Gold.
1006. You can’t put your finger on it–They broke them all.
1007. You can’t win them all–but you can lose them all.
1008. It’s too late to keep a civil tongue in YOUR head.
1009. They’ll roll out a red carpet–soaked in your blood.
1010. Two heads are better than one–except in your satchel.
1011. Very soon you’ll literally be tickled to death.
1012. The cat’s got your tongue–and very soon, the rest of you.
1013. A chip on your shoulder–a monkey on your back.
1014. Your American Dream is now three hots and a cot.
1015. They have crossed out your name in the family Bible.
1016. You are old and in the way–but not for long.
1017. You have nothing to lose–you are already half dead.
1018. If you weren’t perpetually angry you’d feel nothing at all.
1019. It’s a long way to be happy–you haven’t even started.
1020. The suspense isn’t the only thing that’s killing you.
1021. You will be killed on the very day the conflict ends.
1022. They won’t even put pennies on your cold dead eyes.
1023. Very few know your pain and fewer still would even care.
1024. They’ll arrest you from stealing pennies from a public fountain.
1025. The policeman decides he must seriously chastise you.
1026. Your body is willing, but your mind is in the way.
1027. She’s a two-timing tramp; you’re the last one to know.
1028. Even in the quietest moments they are plotting your downfall.
1029. They will stick a fork in you until you’re completely done.
1030. Poker face? Not for long. They’re warming up a hot poker.
1031. You are anything but family friendly.
1032. You proudly bear the flag of hectic mania.
1033. Your enemy is everywhere at once, for it is anyone.
1034. You brag about yourself as though you matter. You don’t.
1035. You have yet to realize the world is cold and harsh.
1036. You’re curiously blind to the duplicity of your “benefactors”.
1037. You are a hopeless dust mite swept up in The Process.
1038. Your comforting illusions will be serially destroyed.
1039. Excuses? The Big Boss has no time for excuses.
1040. It won’t do any good, but pray. Pray as hard as you can.
1041. You’re like fat-free cream–thick, but not rich.
1042. Your low motives are exceeded by your nonexistent morals.
1043. You may worship God–but He doesn’t much like you.
1044. You got it backwards–the Boss asks the questions. You listen.
1045. The old folks say that you were Born to Hang.
1046. The odds have already beaten you–a long time ago.
1047. The Universe teems with life which plots your demise.
1048. Normal people wish you’d get out of their way.
1049. You have a real knack for making people nervous.
1050. People like you only survive by pretending to be stupid.
1051. Idiots have loud voices–yours is the loudest of all.
1052. It’s you against the world; you’re punching above your weight.
1053. The Wheel of Life is ready to crush you flat.
1054. The Devil says he’s a big fan of your recent work.
1055. You’re too dumb to grift and too weak for the Heavy Rackets.
1056. Where is Riddle? Who is Ransom? The world may never know.
1057. You’re down to nothing… and you deserve even less.
1058. Everywhere you go you spread a contagious psychosis.
1059. You’re a hit and run victim–only you ran over yourself.
1060. You will become an unsuccessful beggar in a Mexican border town.
1061. Comeback? First minute of Round One your chin will kiss the mat.
1062. Your friends are wild animals who will devour you. Run!
1063. Even the mosquitoes are repelled by your funky aroma.
1064. You’re guilty as hell. It’s written all over your face. Literally.
1065. You’ve been blacklisted, Chump. Better light out for the Territory.
1066. No medicine will cure the bite of that two-timing dame.
1067. All your High School friends know where you are–in jail.
1068. Do nothing, be nothing, and get it over with.
1069. You are well known for throwing gasoline onto fires. Literally.
1070. You will find neither Fame nor Fortune, but Famine.
1071. You love the spotlight because you fear your own shadow.
1072. Secretary? Lookee–no touchee. She belongs to the Big Man.
1073. Jealousy, greed and lust–and those are your good qualities.
1074. Inspiring your every action is a dead man’s soul.
1075. You will drown in a river of your own tears.
1076. You’ll go to sleep dreaming and wake up screaming.
1077. Stay, Go–All the same. Nothing matters. No way out.
1078. You’ll only find yourself at the moment of your death.
1079. You have thrown your life into a soundless well.
1080. You are an animal. And you know what they do to animals.
1081. You weren’t made for these times–or for any others.
1082. Your mind’s an empty vessel on a dying sea.
1083. Stop your blubbering, Lard–they will have absolutely no mercy.
1084. She thought you were a man–you are only a boy.
1085. It’s no wonder you love money, for you have none.
1086. You will deeply offend a man who has frightening tattoos.
1087. Even the Devil doesn’t want a soul like yours.
1088. You’re not a man for all seasons but for all treasons.
1089. Some animals actually live quite well–until the axe falls.
1090. Only one man could exonerate you–and you killed him.
1091. You don’t give a damn–and now you are damned.
1092. You live in the House of Murder–rent is overdue.
1093. Everyone knows that all of your motives are wicked.
1094. You’ll live on canned spaghetti and Muscatel in a welfare hotel.
1095. Not one of your grandiose schemes will ever bear fruit.
1096. She’ll treat you to dinner then announce she’s dumping you.
1097. You think you’re insanely talented. You got the first part right.
1098. Love’s hard to come by; hatred’s two for a penny.
1099. Nobody’ll look you in the eye–not even the one good one.
1100. It’s your life. Dive in. There’s no bottom.

22. PREJUDICES

People say to me, “You’re not very masculine.” And I say to them,
“Oh, behave–you great big burly man!”

Q:There’s a Black History Month–why isn’t there a White History
Month? A: EVERY month is White History Month.

There’s no business like show business. True. And there’s
also no shower like a golden shower–and for much the same reasons.

Misery for bachelors. Isn’t that the unspoken meaning of “fun for
the whole family”?

Men are good at fixing things. They can fix anything. Except the
broken hearts of their women.

Why do they call me “Sergeant”? Perhaps…because I wear a flea collar.

Back in the Good Old Days the Army was just College for drunks.

Only women have a “soulmate”. Maybe because only women have souls.

I once had a parrot that spoke 70 languages. Unfortunately, all of
them sounded like “AAAWWRK!”

Tell me: What must I do to get some respect around here? Beg on my
knees like an animal?

For my part, I wish gigantism would itself get gigantism, so we
could have giant giants, instead of the boring regular giants that
we’ve all gotten sick of.

I don’t learn slowly but surely. I learn showily but surly.

23. BUMPER STICKERS FOR THE VERY RICH
L’Etat, C’Est Moi
Bumper Stickers Are Vulgar
I Really Don’t Give a Damn About Impressing Others
Bonesmen Rule OK
Ask Me About My Inconspicuous Status Displays
My Son Is a Mediocre Student at an Exclusive Private College
Trustafarians Make Better Lovers
My Trophy Wife Yes, My Swiss Chalet, Maybe, My Club, Never
Life Begins at 40…Million
This Car Has Been to Bohemian Grove
My Other Car is a Cessna 180
Money Bores Me
Ask Me About My Market-Neutral Arbitrage Funds
I Brake for Plutocrats
I Love My Lowchen
Power Doesn’t Impress Me
I Support the Brookings Institute
Honk If You Love Non-Morganatic Dynasties
Lyford Cay Is For Lovers
Warning: Please Do Not Try to Wrangle an Invite to Our Family Estate
Speak Softly and Carry a Big Portfolio
We Rule OK

24. FIFTEEN HYBRID NOVELS
1) A Town Like Alice In Wonderland
2) War and Prejudice
3) Cold Comfort Bible
4) A Bridget Jones Christmas Carol
5) The Five People You Meet in Moby Dick
6) Lolita the Obscure
7) Brave New Swallows
Hamlet the Little Prince
9) Nineteen Eighty-Four On the Road
10) Charlie and the Wasp Factory
11) Lord of the Madding Crowd
12) The Wind in the Miserables
13) Gump Quixote
14) The Magnificent Wind

15) HUCKLEBERRY FINNEGAN’S WAKE

Riverrun past Pap’s and N. Jim’s leads us via
circumlocutious locutions to Aunt Polly’s house.

Agog and come to the raft Huck Honey and get a tree
and was smash, and how bank to unfurl and down that
happened, and what sign when they’re all over the
river; but it is how it is; I won’t be romanticipating
of generoused to be the cold chickest west of the
morning, and then I run off from Pap and they
mistooken me for a murder victim and they said I died
o’er in that cabin and the judge says “Well, I
reckoned so the whole time.” “Oh, go for a light.” I
said, moral: in for a dough, in for a dolour, and said
his head hanging, Jim, he said he thought I was fit
“for a pine box.”

The Mississippi wigwams floated and flecked backward
and I took all the riverroad’s lines, evening as it
turned was as much for us as it was in say, Erie. And
so we lazed. I could shoot my rifle and the bees wouldn’t
know I singed them and that was mighty smart. We just
floated that way for weeks; and hunted this and the
the other and could we be any more free yet, with the
days rolling by after a lot and by and by, I was about to
look out of that old me for the source of my
sourcelossness. But it–as any a tiny steamboat as ever was–
capsized us in the night was almost the final night of
our girth for we was starving. First daylight burrowed.
There was a house and a man all gashly and there, that
was a body, else, a littersomeness. I thought about
what happened up I spoke Jim was all mysterious and
said “Shet de eye; a log hut is all this is wuth.”

I said “Jim, that king and that duke is snakes, don’t
you think? That’s their majesty.” “No,” says Jim,
“don’t, don’t, be careful, dere’s country jakes you
got about here who I want to not see me for
another day.”

Somebody sold Jim out our own humbug royalty and
letting him get sold and telling them to tell me why
was to get from them the old line, “What we done we
done it for yousterity.”

“Yes, so he didn’t never do me no wrong” and yet I went
away saying “I want my nigger,” being Tame about it.

They was the tarnation and so I took in the country
when and as I could. I would swell with words about
all the murdered around me earthside out it froze me
and by and by a rifle patron rings out but I couldn’t
hold a candle to it, wouldn’t be Senegal, in the dark,
and sunrise by certain would bring the dogs, and old man Mose,
and about them a strangersomeness like where they told
you “We don’t know you and there’s no place for you.”

I plugged along and saw they had swung a limb right
over the tree and I paddled off all pale all hanging
by the rope was dead and it was off Jim said he wanted
to go to Ohio, and yet now I was in the thick of
murder; I remembered that; I remembered the house on
the river and the cellar. So I found Jim and he asked
for help and I told him Uncle Silas was coming he may
be iron-jawed but maybe there’s a heart in the salty
old bird.

So soft and they’re talking away she warn’t sure if I
was Tom or Sid. So I laid that still, and Tom says: “I
know by the way you care about that nigger
that you don’t have fun with one
you’ll have fun with nether;” and the thing I was
going to do there the chained one; I know there would
be a reckoning they done it on the reckon I didn’t
know why. I asked.

“Why, what wreck? About that will be to show my oldest
my plan that third time, and Mr. Wilks’ broke, and I
knowd Jim was done eatin’ supper and Mars Tom, and he
drooped down on the Oconee exaggery every time and I
bet he was going to come to harm in it. “

Who’s the runaway in Miss Watson’s way my gunshot wound that
made up another mark if it’s being pain not so much,
and I want it? What’s done easy’s not worth to do, and
snother smother thing to sing out to explain the house wreck
reckon the reckon’s in the awning this mawning and I had a notion
agin a motion, and Jim grabbed me take me free
I says there might be millions, why can’t I see
what I came to see because you see. I didn’t.
“You fetch yourself away Marse Huck
one day some one will come one with rats to
say about dat wreck.” I forgot about a soft bed
but if it ain’t the river it ain’t got all the excesses and I
warn’t knowing what to make of it. Well, Ben Rogers,
and like them,is used to it but when I was out in
the thick of it, why it warn’t no time at all I forgot
what I was about and set to shouting, and
crashing every which way and I knowd I was
pretty poor about taking my ease and acting sivilized
so away I got westward ho so after that I was in the
light away alone alas as

25. ON INFLUENCE

If popular opinion you seek to move:
Assert as true the very thing you seek to prove.

26. FACEBOOK FORM REBUTTAL LETTER
Dear Fucky McFuck:

Your accusations are A WHOLE HEAP OF MISCHIEVOUS NONSENSE. Your behavior is TEXTBOOK EMO. I think a DOG, a CAT–even a RAT could’st do a better job of writing than you. My advice: Put down your copy of Maxim and actually pretend to write something that makes sense. I’m sorry if I don’t write in SHORT, DECLARATIVE, ONE-SENTENCE PARAGRAPHS so you can read this without moving your lips. Not to be unkind, but you are slower than a MONKEY ON DOPE. And trying to stop you when you’re on one of your tirades is like THROWING PEBBLES AT A CHARGING RHINOCEROS. I understand that your comprehension of the English language is, at best, SHALLOW and, as a result, you are FULL OF ATTITUDE. This does not mean that you are therefore entitled to behave like the GENGHIS KHAN OF THE INTERNET. Some may be inclined to humor your WRETCHED BLUBBERING. Personally, I believe you to be A MISERABLE SPECIMEN OF WRECKED HUMANITY. Your HOOLIGAN REPRESENTATIONS, IRRESPONSIBLE FABRICATIONS, and DELICIOUSLY INFANTILE FANTASIES OF DESTRUCTION reveal you to be a HOPEFUL and PERPETUALLY THIRSTY ALCOHOLIC who probably treasures up a bottle of Harvey’s Bristol Cream and hides it in the file cabinet under D for Drinky-Poo. I, for one, am not one to indulge in COARSE JOLLITY WITH TERRIFIED TOADIES. However, I shall fight your idiocy UNTIL MY HEART EXPLODES.

Very sincerely,

27. THE NEW ADVENTURES OF DEATHIE

Death, or “Deathie” to his friends is the funniest thing going. It’s
the ultimate banana peel on the road to all your foolish good
intentions. Only think–you spent your whole life doing good and
helping others and learning new stuff and providing warm, loving
caring mentoring relationships and rescuing sick dogs from the animal
rescue league and patting furry bunnies and eating a sensible diet and
staying out of smoke-filled rooms and yet, no matter how good and kind
you’ve been, death comes, and not only that, death is not kind…oh,
no, my friend, death is not kind. Death is nothing at all. And you are
nothing. And that’s all there is! Haw! Everytime I watch an old movie
and see a dog I say to my wife, see that dog? That dog’s dead now. And
then we’re both sad for a minute. And then we fuck. But it still
doesn’t change to fact that THE DOG IS DEAD!!! Or perhaps we change
the channel to PBS and watch a ballet. See that dancer? Pretty
ballerina, right? GUESS WHAT!!!! SHE’S DEAD NOW! GAW HAW HAW!!!

Death is funny. Everything about it is a barrel of laughs. I wish more
people could see that. Like, what’s with the maggots that feast on
your putrifying flesh when you’re supposedly “at rest” in your coffin?
“At rest”, ah hah hah, that’s a good one. Yeah, I always take a quick
40 winks and wake up refreshed ONLY TO DISCOVER MAGGOTS ARE OOZING OUT OF MY JELLIED EYE SOCKETS! AAARGH! GET EM OFF! GET EM OFF!

Hey, and another thing that bothers me about death is the organ
harvesting–I don’t mind donating my fingers for science or
whatchamacallit, but why should I give up my pristine liver and
kidneys for some blotchy-skinned coma bum who boozed it up for 40
years and now expects my poor body parts to carry his saggy-ass weight for
another 20 years of whoop-de-doo. WHY CAN’T I DECIDE WHO GETS MY
ORGANS?? And for that matter, I WANT THE MONEY UP FRONT, SCHMUCKO!!

(This one’s for my Scottish friends.) Oi! …and another thing about
death that’s got my goat–anaerobic microbes! I say that if the wee
daft fuckers don’t have the courage to attack me when I’m in a
position to fend them off, they ought to have the bollocks not to
fester in my guts after I’ve croaked and it’s no go the white blood
cell count. Cor!

Oh, death, where is they sting? or grave thy victory? Isn’t it funny
that our bodies are 70 per cent water and yet we’re afraid to get wet?
And isn’t it downright hilarious that death is all around us and yet
we’re afraid of the one thing which is powerless against us once it
has finally claimed us and we go back to where we came from, free at
last?

Thank you. You’ve been wonderful.

28. THE MODERN WISDOM ALMANAC. ARCHIVE:
2007: http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977004217
2008: http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977221496
2009: http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977565421
2010: http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977969402
2011: http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474978851374
2012: http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474980950364
2013: http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474981829985

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