Oh boy, are you in for an extra special, super sensational treat of an occasion of an extravaganza! You’ve joined me just in time to witness the introduction to you, our fine, loyal, theoretical fan, of my very own all new brand of sugary snacking cakes! They’re going to be a delicious chocolate brownie, smothered in peanut butter and and drizzled with a ribbon of fudge. They’re going to be packaged in the customary bright primary colors that trigger a deeply ingrained response in your reptilian brain and inspire impulse purchases. And since I’m just a little Joe Nobody, making delicious junk food in the washing machine in my four plex’s laundry room, I’m not going to have a lot of money to market this new, mouth wateringly nummy num num, so I’m going to use a little trick that I’ve been pointing out for the year and a half that I’ve been candying vans and vanning candy. So look for my brand new sweet treat in your local grocery and convenience stores, sold under the name: “Tard Farms: GNYUUHH Squares”. Fifteen minutes after my new candies hit the store rooms of Kroger and Safeway I’ll have more free advertising than I could pay for with a thousand farms filled with a thousand tards!
As exampled by VFoC’s new OFFICIALLY ENDORSED (Give us a call Ogden’s Own, I’m double fucking serious) Vodka Brand: Five Wives Vodka.
All of the familiar tropes are here in this story of another “accidentally” offensively named thing. The easily predicted over reaction to something stupid by someone stupid, which in this case is for some reason the state of Idaho. The faux shock of the manufacturer, caught completely off guard by someone being offended by their strategically “accidentally” offensively named thing. The one pleasant, yet still infuriating twist in this story is the acknowledgment by both sides that they recognize that this is being done for the sake of cheap publicity, but that they’re still making that cheap publicity possible; which just makes me believe that somehow the state of Idaho has a financial stake in “Ogden’s Own Distillery”, because otherwise Five Wives Vodka is never heard of by anyone except a drunk wandering through CVS who accidentally glances up from the Gran Legacy on the bottom shelf to get a fleeting chuckle from the name as they stumble on past.
And I expect Idaho is actually making a pretty penny from their investment. Five Wives Vodka, made by the Utah based Ogden’s Own Distillery, was approved for sale in Utah, apparently without a word. The justification for Idaho’s rejection is that Five Wives, which takes inspiration from Mormonism’s dirtiest little non-secret, is that it would be too offensive to Mormons, which make up about 25% of Idaho’s population. When last I counted, which I actually did, because I count pointless things, Mormons make up roughly 1400% of Utah’s population. On top of that well known fact is the much less well known (except by those at Ogden’s Own, you can be damned sure) that the Utah Department of Alcoholic Beverage Control, which regulates the sale of hard liquor, which are available ONLY in state-owned stores. So when Mormontah, Five Wives’ target outrage demographic didn’t give fuck all about a tasty fire water celebrating multi-wiving, I can damned well guarantee you the folks at Ogden’s Own began seeping excrement, seeing their banked on disputatories jackpot liesurely shrug off the blatant goading. So it was either a lucky coincidence that Idaho decided to be pissed off for no reason, or they’re now gonna be cashing $10 for every $20 bottle of Five Wives sold nation wide.
Jeff Anderson, Idaho State Drinky Cop is quoted in the story saying in reference to the controversy that he himself created by calling this inoffensive thing offensive: “It’s masterful marketing on their part. But it doesn’t play here.” Well shit man, you just made it play. You, your very own self, with your very own action. You made it play. Because if you hadn’t said shit, no one would have ever known shit.
And just co-incidentally:
Ogden’s Own Distillery is trying to make the most of the rejection with a media campaign and sale of “Free the Five Wives” T-shirts.
You don’t say. Wanna check the receipt on those t-shirts and bet they were printed before the bottles were shipped?
So the two options we have here are collusion or stupidity. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t care which is which, I personally love “Five Wives Vodka” and look forward to pickling myself with it as soon as I can find a state approved retailer brave enough to carry it. I generally approve of the blatant manipulation of those easily manipulated. My only problem here is just how sloppy it’s been done in this case. It makes all of the other well orchestrated, masterfully played examples of people really fucking with someone and fooling them into giving them free national publicity just look as cheap as this one, which is just a damned shame, because I’ve already got all of my hypothetical profits from Tard Farms’ “GNYUUHH Squares” going into financing my follow up product: a joint collaboration with Duraflame to produce quick light fireplace logs shaped like the Quran!
Available in time for Christmas!
What better way to bring in the Yuletide season with the wonderful smell of Gingerbread Lattes and White Christmas playing in the background. Storming the malls on black Friday and hopefully not trampling anyone in the process, let alone being the trample-ee. Getting all the things our family wants and eating all the things that make us feel good about the season. Santa and Rudolph, snowflakes and chestnuts, presents and misletoe and … oh wait … what about Jesus? No, not your gardener, the little baby from the book who’s mama never did the nasty … no, not that movie about the barren mother who went on an adoption spree … the freakin’ son of God people, come on !! So let’s go back to the beginning of this nonsense run-on sentence and start over … what better way to bring in the Yuletide season then by combining the things we love, the things we have faith in, the things we know are both real … right? Enter Loudoun County Courthouse in historic Leesburg, Virginia … virgin, Virginia … I smell co-ink-ee-dink. The good people of the courthouse decided to let the first 10 applicants put up an art display, on the courthouse lawn for the holidays, and here’s what they got for their trust in mankind … I like to call it … Santa “Bones” Christ …
Apparently some of the residents in the area did not like this art installation and neither did the councilpeople who decided that this would be an ok idea. “I just think that these folks are trying to ruin the holiday spirit in the name of the first amendment,” Leesburg councilmember Ken Reid said. “They are just very disrespectful of the community.” But the odd thing was that they didn’t seem to mind a very similar wood carving in church the following Sunday … strange.
Science: most of the time it’s telling you how cute the thing threatening to eat the galaxy is, how it could travel through time if it could just discover the thing that would be able to travel through time, or telling our penises things they already get. But now, science has decided it’s its job to tell us when Jesus ate dinner.
I didn’t realize there was a controversy over when the last supper happened. But then, I know that there are entire message boards devoted to Star Trek ship registry databases and the in service lifespan of an Excelsior class starship. Some people take their favorite fiction genres very seriously. I just assumed that Easter fell on a Sunday, because we all had the day off and would have plenty of time to find any eggs that the kids didn’t discover so that the yard wouldn’t start smelling like a semi-pro fart competition by Wednesday afternoon. But naturally, as with just about anything pertaining to this two thousand year old Tolkien novel, even Jesus’ last sit down nosh is surrounded in controversy. And I’m not talking about the Da Vinci kind, this one doesn’t center around the painting (the original which, if I understand correctly, was painted on the back of the Declaration of Independence) but about, brace yourself, contradictions in the bible itself! I know!
So Paul, George and Ringo apparently said in their respective chapters that the meal took place during Passover, while Davey Jones said it was before. And since it’s so damned important to know exactly when Jesus had his last bagel and lox, some damned Professor at Cambridge decided to figure it out with damned science. He will of course be damned as a heretic only to be forgiven a few centuries from now, because that’s how the church rolls.
I think the least important detail of the entire story of the Last Supper, is PROBABLY the day on which it took place. But apparently this contradiction of when they tucked into a nice brisket makes it hard to take the Gospels as… gospel. But in a book full of giants, talking snakes, eight hundred year old men and a guy on horseback, flying down from the sky wearing a stack of crowns, I think I can let a simple confusion on exactly what day Matt last passed the basket of knish to JC, go.
I, personally, wish Easter wasn’t a holiday. Not because I hate brightly colored egg searches or hollow garden critter shaped chocolate flavored treats. I wish Easter wasn’t a holiday, so that I could see the kind of insanity that would ensue if someone proposed to make it a national holiday, today. It would be magnificent! Imagine, in this day and age, trying to get a nationally observed holiday celebrating the execution of a major religious figure from a big book of Godly sword and sorcery. I guess it would be a lot like trying to get anything NOT Jesus related to be observed by anyone. Remember when Muslims wanted to build a place of worship on the same hemisphere as “Ground Zero”? Imagine them trying to get a dirty A-rab holiday recognized in God’s America!
Oh, how I wish I could see something like that. The parade of stupidity that would certainly bring out. The disputes and arguments, all of which would directly contradict which ever arguer’s book almost entirely. The world is so horrible, so many people are idiots enough on their own, why do we feel the need to spark up a holy book club bitch fit just to come up with some other reason to be dicks? But as much as Team Jesus whines and cries about people calling Christmas vacation “Winter Break” or Easter egg rolls “Spring Oblong Circle Tumbles”, imagine if anyone would dare to tell them that they couldn’t have a new holiday celebrating the ass kicking of a lifetime that their son of God took, as Mel Gibson so lovingly chronicled on film.
And you know, on a mostly unrelated note, it seems odd how much Mel hates the Jews when he made so much money with his movie about the most famous one… Oh well. Where was I? Oh right, Jesus got the shit kicked out of him… You know, for me…
Have a pastel egg. It’s what Jesus would have eaten.