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By: Aaron Starmer,
on 11/5/2010
Bubble Girl is famous on the internet for getting herself into some dodgy situations. But, bless her, she always manages to turn the motor on and hightail it away from danger. Here’s a recent photo from her trip to Yellowstone. Grizzly bears don’t take kindly to folks stealing their honey. Mark that down as another lesson learned, Bubble Girl.
By: Aaron Starmer,
on 11/4/2010
A lot of people come to this blog with the same question.
“Aaron,” they ask, “what should I do if I get attacked by a shark?”
Now I’ve seen most of the TV edit of Deep Blue Sea on TBS, and while I’ve only caught the beginning of Jaws: The Revenge, I’m generally a fan of Mario Van Peebles, so I think I know how that one turns out (Peebles: 1, Shark: 0). In short, I’m just as qualified as anyone in teaching the art of shark survival. Yes, I am aware that National Geographic claims they’ve got a corner on this market, but these are also the bums who haven’t sent you a wicked cool holographic skull cover in more than 20 years. With cinema like Saw 3-D out there, a National Geographic might as well be an issue of Highlights, without all those gnarly hidden picture games. It’s certainly not the periodical to pull out when a hammerhead is getting all gory on your metatarsal. For that, you come to me. But first we have to establish a couple things.
Is the shark biting you right now? If you answered yes, then my suggestion is that you move your smart phone or laptop to your weak hand, freeing the dominant one up for some Three Stooge moves. While doing this, you might be able to distract the shark by asking it if it would like to check its email. Chances are the shark doesn’t have an email account, and even if it does, it’s probably a compuserve one that it hasn’t checked in forever, but you’ll catch the old gill-breather off guard for a second while it considers the fact that banking online really does free up more minutes in your day.
How long have you known the shark? I ask you this because they often pose a similar question on Cops and it’s a good way to determine the nature of domestic relationships. If you answered “my whole life,” then I know there are gonna be a few emotional issues here, especially if things get to the point where I have to suggest that you stab the shark in its reproductive organs. Then again, if you answer “we just met at a coral reef a few minutes ago,” then I’m going be wondering if I’m getting the whole story. I mean, what type of coral reef are we talking about? Are there any jelly fish at this reef I should be aware of? Do I have to tip the guy that drives the boat for the snorkeling trip? What about the kid that hands out the masks? I mean, he’s just a kid and he’s not really doing anything. Questions can be like dominoes.
Now that we’ve assessed the situation, I’m going to run through the steps of surviving a shark attack:
By: Aaron Starmer,
on 9/20/2010
In yet another unprecedented scoop, The Indubitable Dweeb has obtained a copy of Christine O’Donnell’s high school diary. Fascinating reading, especially the passages that prove the senate nominee did indeed “dabble in witchcraft.” Rather than politicize this, we’d like to simply present the diary in its unedited form and let the voters decide:
February 7, 1988
The Winter Wonderland dance was completely rad. There was this guy named Kyle who was standing in the corner being a total bummer, and when I asked him why he wasn’t dancing, he told me that “Dungeon Masters do not partake in the rituals of human slaves.” Dungeon Master? My brain was going back and forth between: Creepy? Kinky? Creepy? Kinky?…Cute? Definitely cute. That’s what I thought as soon as he showed me this medallion he wears. It was the sweetest little upside-down star! I asked him if he was into Disney and he licked the star and said, “The Dark Lord animates my black heart.” Cute and mysterious!
February 14, 1988
Valentines Day and my first date with Kyle = Double my pleasure! We went to see Gwar, which was…interesting. Kyle told me to wear something that I didn’t mind getting blood on, and I was like, “Whoa George Michael, slow down! I’m not that ready for that yet.” Now I understand what he meant. O well, I’ll have to throw out the leggings, but now I have an excuse to get a perm! Kyle said he’s going to make me a “Best of Gwar” mixtape. I wonder if they have any ballads. I realize they’re “heavy” and all that, but Danger Danger is also heavy and they had “I Still Think About You” and that song just melts me.
March 1, 1988
I finally got to meet Kyle’s friends. There’s Dozer, and he’s the only guy I’ve ever met who carries a mace. You know, like with the spiky ball and the wooden handle? Then there’s the guy in the black trench-coat who refers to himself “The Shroud.” I don’t have much in common with The Shroud, except we both love Starburst. He let me eat all his red ones! Finally, there’s his Ex. Zoe. Zoe’s a white witch, which means she practices white magic, but all she seems to practice is bad fashion. I know, low blow, but can the girl drape more fake silk on herself? I can’t believe the two of them used to make out in freshly dug graves together.
March 18, 1988
Movie night. Lost Boys! This was my choice. Kyle was begging for yet another Faces of Death marathon, but how many times can a girl watch a parachutist get eaten by an alligator? I thought he’d like Lost Boys cause it has vampires in it and they’re kind of satany. But I didn’t tell him I wanted to see it cause it also has Jason Patric in it! Our little secret, diary? Anyway, he said the movie “sucked donkey nads” and I asked him why and all he did was take a gas can and pour gas on the lawn of a local nunnery and set the grass on fire. I have to say, for a spontaneous flaming pentagram, it was a pretty good flaming pe
By: Aaron Starmer,
on 7/14/2010
I’ve written before on this blog that I don’t have many pet peeves. It’s true. I really don’t. Perhaps I should qualify what I mean though. For there are some things that I hate with the passion of a lambada dancer. But that’s different than having peeves. Peeves are annoyances. Hate is at once emotional and, in my case, completely rational. It’s about seeing something that’s throwing the world off its axis and knowing you must condemn it for the travesty that it is. I will list some things that I hate here:
Captain Chesley “Sully” Sullenberg: Look at this smug son-of-a-farmer. He lands a plane in the Hudson River and they book him on Oprah and 60 Minutes. Next thing you know, they’ll be knighting Toonces the Driving Cat for swerving off a friggin cliff. That’s right. Sully ain’t no better than Toonces. I mean, from where I stand, any pilot who can’t land his plane on a runway is a fascist, socialist, French food-eating, soccer-loving kamikaze! You can, and you should, quote me on that. Want a hero? Try John Travolta. Not only was he the yin to Kirstie Alley’s yang in all those Look Who’s Talking movies, but he also never lands his planes on rivers. Case in point.
Sustainable Agriculture: Cucumbers are like albino rhinos. When I buy a one, I’d like to know that there ain’t any others like it. It’s the last of its line. So, I would hope that after my cucumber has been plucked from its cucumber bush, the entire plant is torched, the soil is drenched with kerosene, and some overalls-clad hillbilly is tossing his corncob pipe down and banjo plucking the inferno into the night. An extreme view? Not if you’ve ever suffered the humiliation of showing up at The International Cucumber Festival in Suzdal to find that some woman also has a kirby shaped like a duck.
Orphans: I’m not talking the Dickens variety or those Slumdog Millionaire tots, though I’m certainly not big fans of their pickpocketing, gameshow-winning ways. What I’m talking about are the ones who are always hanging out at the hotspots with Sandra Bullock and Madonna and Angelina Jolie. Clearly all they want to do is wink and shoot finger-guns at the paparazzi, then parlay the TMZ coverage into a book deal and a perfume line. I’ve had a hard enough time getting department stores to even sniff Dusky, A Fragrance by Aaron Starmer, now I got some 4-year-old Javanese celebutante to compete with for shelf space! It’s enough to make a man cancel his subscription to OK! Magazine.
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By: Aaron Starmer,
on 5/6/2010
In the first of what we hope are many journalistic coups, The Indubitable Dweeb has managed to land an interview with the erstwhile most-wanted-man-in-America, accused Times Square bomber Faisal Shahzad. We asked some tough questions. He gave some surprising answers. No matter what you think of miranda rights and the role of bloggers in the reporting of terrorism, you’ll want to read this fascinating journey into the mind of a man who a few days before was just another immigrant, another face in the crowd.
ID: Let’s start with your name. Faisal Shahzad. That’s not a name most Americans are familiar with, or certainly comfortable with. Is there something else we can call you? A nickname? Anything like that?
FS: Sure, sure. A lot of people, they call me Fievel.
ID: Like the cartoon mouse?
FS: Exactly! An American Tail. It’s a funny story actually. Back in Pakistan, when I was a kid, my sister and I, we use to love to sing together. Duets, you know? There was a talent show at the local mosque and we signed up to do Close My Eyes Forever, which is a song by Lita Ford and Ozzy Osbourne.
ID: We’re familiar with the song.
FS: Showstopper, right? Anyhoo, the night before the talent show, we see this movie. This cartoon. And there’s this song. Somewhere Out There. It’s sung by cartoon mice and it’s out of tune and it’s almost like a bad Andrew Lloyd Webber ballad, but damn it, it works. I’m telling you, it absolutely breaks your heart. So we ditched the ripped jeans and teased hair which, come to think of it, weren’t exactly Taliban-friendly, and we sported some rags and mouse ears and sang Somewhere Out There. And we killed. Just blew the beards right off the crowd. The next morning, people started calling me Fievel. “Keep wishing on that same bright star, Fievel!” That sort of thing. A few years later, I went through a Gomer Pyle phase, I tried to convince people to call me Shazam!, but it never took. It was Fievel then. It’s still Fievel now.
ID: You are aware that Fievel is Jewish, aren’t you?
FS (after a long pause): But he is a mouse?
ID: Yes. A Russian Jewish mouse. His last name is Mousekewitz.
FS: No. You’re wrong. I have the blu-ray at home. I watch it once a year. I’m pretty sure he’s Chechen or something.
ID: Fair enough. You’re entitled to your interpretation. In any case, do you find yourself relating to Fievel’s story.
FS: You know, I do. I was an immigrant to America, just like him. I’m not particularly fond of cats, just like him. There are a lot of coincidences between our stories.
ID: Did Fievel ever try to blow up Times Square?
FS: Well, no…but that doesn’t mean he didn’t want to. It’s never stated explicitly, but I’ve always assumed that sometime before he reached America, Fievel travelled to Pakistan for some training in explosives. There’s a scene where he unleashes the
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By: Aaron Starmer,
on 4/19/2010
As an author of novels for young people, I have to stay on top of the trends. The trends have shown that girls these days are swooning over magical old men who sweep into their high schools and offer danger and breathy declarations of love. Stephanie Meyer is keeping the vampire fires burning with her upcoming novella and the Eclipse film. Maggie Stiefvater’s Shiver has shown that girls dig werewolves too. Lauren Kate’s Fallen has proven they like them winged and biblical. And Carrie Jones’s Need feeds the need for hot pixie-love. No, I’m not talking about Kim Deal and Black Francis.
Seeing how successful these books have become, I thought I’d jump into the game. So here, for the first time, is a sneak preview, an excerpt from a novel I am writing. Set in coastal South Carolina, it is known simply as Clover.
The violet light skipped across his face. I couldn’t always tell indigo from violet, but this was violet alright. It splashed soft highlights in his fiery hair and shrouded his freckles in inky, purple shadows. I reached down to touch his cheek.
“You’re old,” I said.
“Aye,” he said.
“In school, the boys are always bragging about being men and all that. Three years ago, they didn’t even know what shaving cream was.”
“Tis true,” he remarked.
“Your face is rough,” I said. In his stubble I could feel the hills of his homeland, the roots of soul.
“Twas a beard for many a snow,” he said. “The sands of Myrtle Beach know lil kindness towards a whisker me-fears. Barbers rule this land.”
“Myrtle Beach is cruel,” I said. I’d always believed it, but never had the courage to admit it to my friends or my parents. They all adored the golf and go-carts.
“Aye,” he said. Smoke trailed from the side of his mouth. If the breeze hadn’t stolen it, I would have sucked it up and felt its dangerous caresses on my lungs.
“There’s a dance,” I told him. “It’s not important or anything. It’s just something we do here. If we went for an hour, would that be awful? Together I mean. If we went together.”
“I do a jig,” he said. The velvet soles of his boots attacked the sand and the rhythm of the waves combined with the gentle scrape into a sensuous lullaby. I knew that Lance was still waiting at the concert. He’d texted me, “Wassup Jen? Where u at? Got the tix. Theez jams r gonna rock ur bra off!” I’d let him wait. I had my music here.
“The rainbow?” I asked him. “How long will it last?” In a tide pool, I saw that the colors were now cast upon my face.
0 Comments on An Excerpt from Aaron Starmer’s Clover as of 1/1/1900
By: Gabriel Gethin,
on 1/10/2010
For those of you who desire the short, sweet version, Nightlight is a parody of Twilight. The basic storyline is similar enough to mock Twilight, yet different enough to be its own work of fiction. Belle Goose moves from Pheonix to Switchblade, Oregon to live with her father Jim, a window wiper. Belle has an obsession with dating a vampire. At her new school, she meets Edwart Mullen, a super-hot (yet fictitious) computer nerd with such a lack of social skills, one could argue he has negative social skills. After noticing a few events, such as Edwart leaving his lunch untouched, Belle realizes Edwart is a vampire. Clearly, this girl is a master of the scientific method.
I would say more in my quick summary, but I don't want to spoil the book! It's a very short read. Therefore, the summary is also short. Ironically, my summary for the 400 something page Twilight is about the same length... Quality beats quantity, which is why I recommend Nightlight over Twilight. Nightlight is hilarious! The book is like a Mel Brooks' movie. It's totally cheesy, it's a bit stupid at times, but overall, it is amazing! Some parts will make you laugh out loud (which you can shorten to "lol" if you wish). Other parts will seem a bit over-the-top and stupid. However, the length of the book makes the stupid parts less annoying.
There's not a whole lot to review in regards to this book. It's a parody. Is it funny? Yes. Therefore, it is a success. I recommend reading it, for kicks and giggles.
Four humorous daggers out of five.
Yours vampirically,
Gabriel Gethin
By: Mary Lee,
on 7/29/2009
I know an old lady who swallowed a fly, along with any number of other things. I have known this old lady since the early 1960's. I still have my 50 cent "Scholastic Book Services" book club copy of this classic.
There Was an Old Monster
By: tara,
on 6/15/2009
Remember #QueryFail? If you want to land a book contract, don’t send a letter like this to an editor or agent. Sung to the tune of “Paperback Writer” by The Beatles, here’s a pop parody with a cautionary theme.
♫ Picture book writer (picture book writer) ♫
To whom it concerns, will you buy my tale?
I’m a stay-home Mom with degrees from Yale.
It’s an alphabet book based on Mother Goose,
And I’ve much to teach so I want to be a picture book writer,
Picture book writer.
It’s a didactic yarn of a wise old sow
Chased by vampire ducks and a zombie cow.
I’ll outsell Mo Willems and Dr. Seuss,
I was in movies but I want to be a picture book writer,
Picture book writer.
♫ Picture book writer (picture book writer) ♫
It’s six thousand words, give or take a few,
My cousin’s friend can illustrate it, too.
I have a twelve-book series that’s told in rhyme,
My three kids love it and I want to be a picture book writer,
Picture book writer.
If you sign me right now, you can be the first,
It’s been e-mailed to hundreds, including Hearst.
If you must reject it, please don’t send a form,
I need your critique and I want to be a picture book writer,
Picture book writer.
Posted on 6/14/2009
We are celebrating an anniversary here at TLC, the one year anniversary of The Quibbler. A lighthearted humorous look at all thing Harry Potter, the June edition of our interactive online magazine is now available. As summer is here and students are home from Hogwarts, travel themed stories abound this month. This issue is packed with advice on Wizarding holidays and adventures, whether they be... Read the rest of this post
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By: Charlesbridge,
on 5/18/2009
Parody has had a long tradition across many times and cultures. Lewis Carroll famously used serious, dry poems as fodder for clever parodies like "Father William." Many contemporary films and books for young people give a nod back to the plots and styles of Jane Austen (e.g., Clueless), William Shakespeare (Ten Things I Hate About You), William Blake (A Visit to William Blake's Inn), and Emily Dickinson (The Mouse of Amherst). In my children's poetry books Because I Could Not Stop My Bike and Other Poems and I Must Go Down to the Beach Again and Other Poems, I similarly transform classical works by poets such as Blake, Shakespeare, Dickinson, and Poe into poems with child-friendly themes like riding a bike, eating macaroni and cheese, and going tot he beach. In this way, I have tried to draw on the beautiful and varied rhythms and meters of famous poems while giving children of all ages a topic that they can relate to.
The benefits to children are several: most important of these, to ignite their interest in poetry by giving them poems they would love to read over and over. I wanted them to laugh and have fun, to be touched by a thought they may not have considered, or learn something new about their world. Each of my poems starts with an "apology" to the famous author from which the inspiration was drawn. I always intended the poems to work on two levels: to stand completely alone without any need whatsoever of the original works to appreciate the new ones, and yet also to have extra meaning for hte grownups and teenagers who were familiar with the originals. Like Sesame Street's "Letter B," "Cereal Girl," and "Monsterpiece Theater," the humor becomes multi-layered--both the actual rhyming story is funny (for children taking it literally) and the wordplay provides a bit of amusement for the grownups and older children who recognize the sources.
After a recent interview that I had on NPR's "Morning Edition" with Renee Montagne, I was surprised by how polarized some of the responses were to my having taken the classically great poems and changed their topics to ones of interest to children. Some responders were worried that these parodies represented a "dumbing down" for kids, and advocated reading the original works by the masters, even to younger children. Their "poetry purist" position seemed to indicate that playing around with poems suggests disrespect for the original authors. A popular educator bloggist, Miss Rumphius, countered with the following viewpoint:
"Since when is parody dumbing-down? Frankly, to parody well you need extensive knowledge of the original work. I think kids, particularly those in middle school could really exercise some poetic muscle by writing parodies of their own. I haven't seen the books (yet), but they seem like they might make wonderful mentor texts."
While I can understand that a poetry lover may be apprehensive that someone is playing irreverently with their favorite work, I must agree with this bloggist that a really good parody does indeed require a deep understanding of the author's style. As I wrote these poems, I began to appreciate the poets in a way that I never had before when merely a reader. It was as if I felt my way inside their way of making rhythm and rhyme, and in doing so, expanded my own skill and understanding. In fact, it was suggested to me by a theater professor at Guilford College that my poems are not really parodies at all--not in the definition of mocking or making fun of hte original work, not intended to spoof. "What I really think you're doing, " he wrote to me, "is taking the image patterns and meters of great poems and placing child-accessible thoughts in the poetic structure in the same way the more complicated thoughts are placed in the orginals... It gives the child a kinesthetic experience of the poem."
When authors engage with classical works in a playful and interactive way, they give permission for others to do the same. Literature doesn't have to be static. So long as we give the proper credit; a parody can show deep respect for a poet's talents even as it sings a silly tune. I have heard from teachers and librarians all over the country what a useful and fun exercise it is to encourage students to attempt writing "transformations" in their classrooms. Obviously this task will be easier for some than others, but all will emerge with a little better understanding about what poets are trying to do when they sit down to create. I don't like poetry that makes someone feel bad because they can't understand it. I want children to feel alive about poems--that they can act them out, laugh with them, sing them, or write their own. In my author visits to schools, I adapt activities from the poems across grade levels--from using puppets with first graders to engaging middle-schoolers in humorous dramatic readings of the poems, I have found that students can make a strong connection to poetry at their own developmental level. If they feel even a little more inclined to play with language, I have been successful. To that end, I leave you with a thought inspired by John Donne and which has become my tagline: "Do not ask for whom the poems are told/the poems are told for you."
Posted by Karen Jo Shapiro, author of Because I Could Not Stop My Bike and Other Poems, and I Must Go Down to the Beach Again and Other Poems.
By: Tricia,
on 3/12/2009
Horatio thinks he saw a ghost.Go now and read. (While you're there, score one for team zombie. Huzzah!)
Hamlet thinks it's annoying when your uncle marries your mother right after your dad dies.
The king thinks Hamlet's annoying.
This makes you smile, doesn't it? It certainly makes me smile.
Michael Rex has written a super fun send up of the beloved Goodnight Moon and just in time for Halloween. Instead of bunnies and mittens and mush, readers will delight with a little werewolf, martians and goo. The setting is a tomb of the creepiest sort, and each page offers lots of details to look at. Slimy floors, skeletons, Frankenstein shoes, and big red spiders are sure to delight.
A not too scary Halloween read with lots of appeal!
By: Stacy Whitman,
on 3/2/2007
AAAAAAAAAA!
I have accidentally deleted this post not once but TWICE! Argh.
Suffice it to say that I have been watching Animaniacs on DVD, and I can't do that without sharing a tiny bit of the doubtful joy that is the ear-bug of an opener. I couldn't find the part with the boingy! BOINGY! boingy! BOINGY! in the very beginning, that tells where they come from and how they get locked up in the tower, but I did find the regular opener:
And, in the spirit of international day yesterday (see below) I can't leave you without also sharing something educational.
Yes, I did mean Yakko's Nations of the World.
Did you ever notice that Israel is misspelled in the labels? I never did till just now.)
...And...
Remember the Wheel of Morality? :D
Now, with this little sampler, go find the DVD yourself--very worth it. You don't find humor like this every day. (Though, to be honest, I usually fast forward through the pigeons and the singing cat. They're not nearly so funny, despite my love of musical parody.)
By anoiting Travolta and K. Alley as the Ying Yang twins, I think you are totally discounting the work of Bruce Willis in LWT and LWT2. His work blazed the way for those Etrade ads….Recognize