The world is turning upside-down, people. As of last night's season premiere, The Simpsons is 100% not funny anymore. For the first time ever, they went through one entire season of mediocrity, and they started out with another loud, wet thud. The trailer for the next Star Wars film looks... pretty damn good. The Red Sox won the World Series. Damien Thorn... OOPS!... I mean, GeeDubya Bush won the election. The Secretary of Spousal Affairs has tickets to see Slayer this week... and the management does not. Something isn't right. These are dark omens, portentious and fearful.
What's next? Snow in Hawaii? Talking dogs? Will the U.S. abandon the Red, White, and Blue, opting instead for the colors of the Miami Dolphins? Maybe when we go to see Interpol this Friday, they'll open their set with the Bay City Rollers' "Saturday Night."
There can be only one reason for these strange occurrences. Only one explanation for these minute ripples in the space-time continuum.
The Management is turning 30 in two weeks.
Here's what to expect in the days to come:
"There was a great earthquake. The sun turned black like sackcloth made of goat hair, the whole moon turned blood red, and the stars in the sky fell to earth, as late figs drop from a fig tree when shaken by a strong wind. The sky receded like a scroll, rolling up, and every mountain and island was removed from its place."
Details on the culmination of these dire happenings are forthcoming. In the meantime, you may want to make your peace with your people and your god.
TTFN!
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