Ian Shoals

[der Moench]

Anybody know of this guy? He has probably done other things, but I came across him doing a radio show called "Duck's Breath Mystery Theater" (or something like that), and I thought a few of his little essays were pretty funny.

Like this one, which I call "Advice to young people:"

I’m one of those guys who went to school until I couldn’t get any more degrees. Young people today can probably benefit from my twelve years in college, so here’s some advice:

Avoid any course called “Colonial American Literature.” You will read smug creeps like Benjamin Franklin, psychotics like Edgar Allen Poe, half-smart mystics like Ralph Waldo Emerson, and turgid pulp writers like James Fennimore Cooper - all of them dull.

Also avoid Henry James, who will put you to sleep in seconds.

Avoid psychology. Sigmund Freud was a half-baked Viennese quack. Our literature, culture, and the films of Woody Allen would be better today if Freud had never been heard of. Ignore B.F. Skinner and Behaviorism, a school of psychology that reduces experience to a meaningless series of punishments and rewards. Steer clear of Existentialism, a morbid philosophy based on unproveable premises developed solely so graduate students can sprout reedy little beards, drink espresso until three a.m., and come to believe that despair is sexually appealing - which it definitely is not. Even if it were, the class of people that you meet in philosophy classes aren’t worth your time.

If you want to appeal to members of the opposite sex (which is one of the prime reasons for going to college), buy clothing with designer labels and join a fraternity or sorority.

Always remember that Jean-Paul Sartre was a third-rate writer whose attempts at irony were done much better in “The Twilight Zone.” Remember too, that Ernest Hemmingway is perhaps the most over-rated writer who ever lived.

If you are a young person who writes poetry, throw it away right now unless it is Christmas card verse. There is no money in poetry.

Never take a film class. You will never see a movie in a film class that is even remotely entertaining, and even if you did, the movie would be talked-to-death by a graduate student who has a theoretical ax to grind.

Don’t take writing classes. Writing classes are all taught by over-the-hill Beatniks who will bore you to death with their boring stories of their drinking days with Jack Kerouac. You will never get an Agent in a writing class. If you must read, read Stephen King; at least he knows how to tell a story.

And if you’re dumb enough to get stuck in a class that requires a term paper, sprinkle your essay with these words: interface, relevance, dialectic, discourse, disturbing, and admirable.

Remember, kids: All great art is boring. Dress well, and drink a lot - that’s what college is for. As for a major: go with law or medicine - everything else is just too iffy. I oughta know. I gotta go."


Anyhoo! Not much point to this post, except I thought it was damn funny - and having spent about 100 years of my life in college, I can relate.

If anyone else knows anything more about this Ian Shoales guy, let me know - I'd be curious to know what he is doing these days.

Peace.

[Gwalchmai]

Was he an archaeologist? His perspective sounds very familiar....

LOL

[Scayde]

OMG.....what a wonderful commentary

Thanks for sharing that dM.....

........*sniggle*

[fable]

Ian Shoals has doing his rapid-patter commentaries for at least 15 years, now. His real name is Merle Kessler. I don't know if he's still associated with Duck's Breath Mystery Theater, but he was at one time: it's a loose conglomeration of comics with a strong social tinge.

[der Moench]

White lies. Little white lies. They help us get through life. We hear white lies at work and at play. We tell white lies for pleasure and convenience. We use white lies the way a carpenter uses a hammer: Your check is in the mail; easy to install; only takes a minute; a child could do it; this won’t hurt a bit; trust me; be glad to do it; no problem; slices, dices in seconds; actual mileage may vary; it followed me home, can I keep it? I mailed it a month ago; I’m working late at the office tonight; this is my real phone number; I forgot to turn the machine on; I think of you as a friend; she’s just a friend; I need time, time to think, time to be by myself.

White lies are an umbrella in the stormy weather of unrelenting, tiny truths: Beauty is only skin deep; it matches your eyes; you have an interesting personality; you have an interesting face; your poem is the best poem I have ever read; it was . . . interesting; I had a wonderful time; it was the best time I’ve ever had; I love foreign movies; let’s do it again sometime.

White lies are Band-Aids on the gaping wound of the morality gap: I didn’t know you could sing; you don’t think like a Capricorn; diamonds are a girl’s best friend; money isn’t everything; you’re a gem, a jewel; you’re irreplaceable; if you don’t like it, you can quit; you can stop any time; we can take it or leave it; trust me.

White lies give us an excuse to do what we were gonna do in the first place: This is just a neighborhood watch; this is just a border patrol; we won’t use these weapons; this is just national security; these aren’t troops, they’re advisors; I’m sorry; I didn’t mean it; the end justifies the means.

Just little white lies. They help us get through life.

I gotta go.

How true, how true.

Peace.

[Aegis]

I have a new hero...

[Gwalchmai]

Are white lies and black truths the same thing?

[fable]

Originally posted by Gwalchmai
Are white lies and black truths the same thing?

Black truths always end up biting you in the rear. White lies are like oil, they help slide you through the day. Of course, if you're on the receiving end of a dozen white lies and realize that fact, you may feel like going postal.

[Scayde]

What is a 'Black Truth" ?

I have never heard that term before.

[fable]

Originally posted by Scayde
What is a 'Black Truth" ?

I have never heard that term before.

Truths that steal in like Poverty at a private party of the sinfully wealthy. The kind of thing that nobody likes to discuss, and is never welcome when it is brought up.

Interrupting one of Dubya's speeches with a question of, "You took over Iraq for the oil deals your friends now have, right?" would count as a Black Truth.

[Gwalchmai]

Originally posted by fable
Black truths always end up biting you in the rear. White lies are like oil, they help slide you through the day. Of course, if you're on the receiving end of a dozen white lies and realize that fact, you may feel like going postal.

So, if you realize that you are on the receiving end of a dozen white lies, that would amount to a black truth?

[fable]

Originally posted by Gwalchmai
So, if you realize that you are on the receiving end of a dozen white lies, that would amount to a black truth?

Why, yes. And a perfectly good reason to get morosely drunk, too.

[der Moench]

I noticed a rather odd phenomenon on television during the months of January and February, a series of commercials for entirely unrelated products-- fast food chicken, vodka, and two different brands of automobiles--all involving people interacting with bears. In one, one person urges his friend to fight a bear, while he stands to one side eating chicken nuggets, in another a guy pours honey on his friend so the bear will attack him, leaving him free to drink vodka with beautiful women by a river, in a third, a guy takes a picture of himself holding a bear cub, forcing him and his friend to drive away from the forest really fast before the mother bear catches up with them, and in yet another, a bunch of guys bravely chase bears away from their campsite, because the car they drive has made them really really manly. What does it all mean?

Well, it probably means I was paying too much attention to television during January and February. Other than, it beats me. I can see the appeal of puppy dogs and kitty cats. They make you feel warm and fuzzy, and receptive to the idea of buying toilet paper. I can see the appeal of sex. Stupid pouty women in bikinis always instill an almost irresistible desire within me to run out and purchase six cans of overly sweet bland American beer. But why should the image of a fierce untamed beast, one that could take my head off my shoulders with one lazy swipe of a paw, make me want to consume fast food, drink alcohol, or buy a car? And the vodka commercial, what is the message there? One guy cheerfully sends his friend to an almost certain death by mauling just so he can have the babes and liquor to himself.

What, are they pitching this ad to the psychopathic demographic? And how did all these different ad campaigns come up with the same idea at the same time? Just a bizarre coincidence? Or was it the result of fierce competition? Did the chicken nugget people say, "I've seen the vodka storyboards. They're going with the bear. We've gotta go bear too, or nugget sales will plummet! Plummet!" Could it some kind of subliminal message-- don't be afraid of the bear market. If not, why a bear? Why not wolverines? A rabid pit bull. A ravenous weasel. A rampaging team of enraged elephants. I know. A pit full of spitting cobras. Killer bees! A stream swarming with piranha. Attacked by hundreds of vicious piranha, one guy puts his friend in front of him, so the friend gets stripped to the bone in seconds, as the guy smirks nonchalantly eating a microwave burrito. Man, if that doesn't make microwave burritos jump out of the freezer, I don't know advertising. A Chihuahua. A talking Chihuahua! Selling tacos! Oh, wait.... Never mind... I gotta go.

[Scayde]

A talking Chihuahua! Selling tacos! Oh, wait.... Never mind... I gotta go.

*Sniggle*

[rebel3_6_1]

quote:
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Why, yes. And a perfectly good reason to get morosely drunk, too.
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Since when did you have to have a reason to get morosely drunk?