Explaining Saltyonion

Pilgrims at Downtown Whooze Fun Fair Gather Around Baal's Sacred Head "Chopper"--the Harley of Harleys--as Rider Publicly Executes a Left Hand Turn

Saltyonion is easily the most astonishing place on Erde. Essentially it's the neolithic Salty Sea--an enormous body of saline banana oil (see below)--covered with layers of blown in and marginally less dense sand that have accumulated to a depth of several meters atop the ever-undulating glutinous bananoid surface. The country fields an official population of only 75 registered citizens--a Grand Whoozier, his family, and his 33 Royal Chauffeurs of the House of Whooze, who regularly alternate roles as "political prisoners," "pilgrims," "concubines," "head chopper riders," "basketball players," "security forces," and "autistic-horrorists" depending on the angle of the sun, the selective inattention of the Grand Whoozier, and the way the wind is blowing. No one can ever be certain. The capital is Whooze, positioned on the tiny rocky rim at the southern edge of the sea and coincidentally also on the coast of the Injahlahlah Nautical Abyss--it's the only spot in all of Saltyonion where permanent structures can be built--but it's largely trapped between herds of hungry Kraken and sticky banana oil (which the Kraken use sometimes as a sort of "dip"). The Grand Entrance to Whooze is a triumphal arch with the legend--in garish neon and lapidary script--No Booze in Whooze [In 1860 Whooze was engulfed in The Servile War (1860-1865), both sides using armies of serviles to decide the "smoking and drinking" issue. The winning Grand Whoozier issued the Prohibition Proclamation and the rest is herstory, not ours: serviles--at least the few remaining alive--were no longer allowed to drink champagne or smoke cheroots which they had no access to anyway. In Whooze this sort of convolution is called ethics]. Downtown Whooze proper consists of an enormous palace fashioned entirely from lambswool and eider down, a magnificent Baalist temple housing holy relics (including Baal's ball cap, bell cup, ballista, and bike, and a piece of the True Lacrosse stick), a vast, well-stocked, yet uninhabited trophy mall, and a gold-encrusted, gem-plated basketball court where the world-class Whooziers channel basketball every Satyrday night for the amusement of the G.W.. Whooze also boasts the world's largest and deadliest parking lot (second is the cooling lava bed atop the Volcanotown Pille-Mart), effectively the remainder of the country and home to millions of unregistered Saltyonion Banananomads who are able to move freely across the surface of the Salty Sea mysteriously without sinking too deeply into the sand-covered banana oil beneath their feet. The wanderers subsist entirely on a diet of extracted banana oil salt, and onion rings, which gives them a certain natural flippancy and ability to tolerate the endless antics of the G. W. and his family.

Explaining Kanadia

On Your Knees Worthless Insects! Bow Before the Scarlet Leaf!

Briefly, we at the Institute have learned that the only thing every parallel universe has in common is a Kanadia, or Canada (Da Urth), or Can-doah (new place we just found) and so on. In our Erden Kanadia, citizens are called Kanadans, while on "Da Urth" the citizens of that "Canada" are called Canadians. Regardless where we turn "Der Peeper" to look at alternate universes we find the same nation, in the same place, with this same problem. Noted Linguaphysicist, G. Spencer Brown, believes that this inexplicable disjunction between the name of the country and the name of its inhabitants may be the initial semantic quantum fluctuation that causes universes to spring into existence in the first place. No universe, then, can even exist without a Kanadia.

Kanadia Head-of-State Ousted Over Moonoid War Scare!

Kanadia Beavers Preparing for Interplanetary Conflict

Space Damit Eh-nitiative (oh gawd), they call it--Kanadia Defense Ministry is working with indigenous rodent population to construct a globe-girdling stick and mud outer space barrier that will safeguard our helpless homeworld from the innumerable alien menaces lurking out there... in space. "It's something to see!" says a random Kanadia person, "If they hear aliens slipping in through chinks, they all rush over and slap gobs of mud into the breach, just like in Henry V." A Mrs. Eleanor McMacellmuck of Toronto said, "They all look so adorable in their little furry spacesuits!" An Imperial citizen who has lived quietly in downtown Moontown for over fifty years claims never once having seen "one of these so-called Maniac Moonoids the folks from Kanadia are in a tizzy over, although there's this loony coyote living over by Judge Crater's Edge and on sunny afternoons you can hear him howling away at the ground. Gives me the willies!" Hardly a threat to moon or man-kind sez we, but we do wonder how a hungry old coyote ever got on D'anna, our lovely moon. Hello ACME? Full story in preparation.

Scared? Of This? Really?

63 Million Tonnes of Kitty Litter, Dust Kitties, and Dead Caterpillars

Upcoming story: Mt. Palomine Institute of Mysteries unmanned aleatory space exploration craft--Lookarounder III--lands on surface of big scary asteroid, Picklejarre 357a, that could someday be on a collision course with Erde, and finds it to be no more threatening than the agglutinated contents of a vacuum cleaner bag. On its last pass the killer asteroid came within 75 feet of the surface of Erde, knocking down a ham radio antennae and frightening livestock. The discovery that asteroids are just loose conglomerations of interstellar dustpan gleanings is proof positive Creatrix did not unintelligently undesign dinosaurs in a dreadful galactic baseball game disaster that supposedly cost her team the Series and simultaneously destroyed 95% of life on Erde and all interest in baseball for 65 million years. [Turns out it was just a random accident, even Wotan was asleep at the switch that day... literally] The larger bits embedded within the matrix are undigested kernels of corn. Please make it go away, sez government, regardless--it's disgusting. [Soon, a story on the Serendipity missions and the planet-ambling Meanderer series of Institute space exporation craft--Meanderer I and II are currently on the surface of Thor just aimlessly driving around, smoking (the low atmospheric pressure causes mild lubricant evaporation) and listening to telemetry broadcasts from Erde on their radios, hoping to run into some life, some action, something, man, somewhere on that downbeat nowheresville orb]

Hey You, Say Something!

Just Poke at the Screen with a Feather or Toss that Pot of Ink at Me!

Readers are encouraged to leave condiments

Histofactoid--The Banana Oil Story

Government--Laid Out All Plain-Like (Keep Fingers Away!)

Complex centralized governments with an excess of moving parts, like Tic-Toc's, and/or those premised on convoluted and frequently interchangeable political, religious, and/or criminal theories, will eventually overheat and break down without continuous infusions of lubricating banana oil--as recently witnessed with the sad case of the former Former-Republic of Former-Russland. That unhappy former nation is so seized-up after being irresponsibly run red-hot for so many years that a crow-bar or cudgel is nowadays required to simply purchase groceries. Most modern corporations, even on our neighboring planets of Ishtar and Thor, are almost pure banana oil with few pragmatic components, and on our pathetic parallel world of "Da Urth" banana oil is used by one major religion to lubricate conglomerations of oddball parts that don't even fit together rationally! Otherwise, on "Urth" banana oil is valued more highly than items of solid value and substance; it's used primarily to create even more banana oil. Nearly 90% of Erde's comes from the Puta Babylonian, Persian, and Saltyonion regions, locations redolent, and afloat and adrift on endless undulating oceans, of it--pretty much why the Janes and Joes of those benighted nations are constantly seasick or at least often act that way. Our Empire, praise Wotan, is both low-friction and self-lubricating and requires a minimum of the sticky smelly stuff. It's used here almost exclusively as an environmentally-friendly fungicide.

National Dodo Day Observations

Giving Us the National Bird

Happy National Dodo Day to our readership!

National Public Wireless Champions Democracy, Sensitively Gives Da Peoples Whats Deys Wants

Multi-Kulchah--Live From Lincoln Center

Efforts to simultaneously downplay elitism, promote culture, give wide berth to Euro-Centrist cultural domination, cater to Western intellectual snobbery, cater to anti-Western Western intellectual snobbery, promote cultural diversity, increase sensitivity to the aspirations and yearnings of the common Volk (theirs, not ours), avoid the crassness of low-brow, ignorant, commoner tastes (ours, not theirs), promote patronizing Third World cultural-romanticism and tourism, patronizingly defend the Third World against patronizing romanticism and tourism, patronize our own common unwashed Volk, and remain pridefully commercially nonviable, and socio-politically incomprehensible, have yielded programming proposals for (among many other things) live Greco-Roman nude cock-fight coverage from Lincoln Center (see above), rain-forest people's vegetarian "cooking" shows, Schoenberg played by mariachi bands, and lost-language karaoke broadcasts from the Norge Pole. "We're proud to offer an alternative to the confusing mess that's modern popular mass media!" says NPW Director Gladys Oolamba-Scharnhorst.

Tic-Toc Thirsty for More Banana Oil

One of Twelve Pumping Stations Keeping Tic-Toc Central Government Awash in High-Grade Banana Oil

A recent Institute study shows that demand for banana oil within the economically booming People's Paradises of Tic-Toc is increasing exponentially. Weathering superficial changes in styles and manners of government and an historically recent attempt to drown the nation in the fruity lubricant, Tic-Toc has been a well-oiled bureaucratic "paradise" now for over three millennium (over 60% of the population is directly involved in banana oil dependent services and businesses) and recently the leadership within Tic-Toc has expressed concern over the non-stop growth of banana oil-needy offices, departments, and organizations. A Tic-Toc government study group is examining a proposal to create a top-down hierarchy of consultancies that will assess the regional-to-village based needs for reductions and create, in turn, a national network of bureaucracy-reduction oversight groups and banana-oil steering committees that will then report back bi-annually to a newly-established central government office in the capital city of Diing-Doung (AKA Ding-Dong or Ting-Tong) with further suggestions and recommendations for continued reinforcement and perpetuation of the process ad infinitum. The ensuing "perpetual motion" device, once functioning, then will be harnessed to power what will be Erde's largest banana oil pumping station--currently under construction in Chatz-Ke Province and touted as yet another People's Paradises technological triumph. In 1043 AP, a Tic-Toc Empress, made aware of an earlier manifestation of this ongoing problem, contemplated construction of an immense, concave, and non-permeable pavement across the entire nation. This shallow "bowl" would have been flooded with banana oil to roughly a half-meter's depth--thus insuring that all Tic-Toc activities would be constantly well banana oiled. This Great Floor of Tic-Toc (one of the Seven Wee-Wonders of Erde) was never constructed, but eventually her idea inspired the invention of the first Wok, named in her honor, and later the modern Side Wok used by marching bands.

In Search of the Paleosantas

Upcoming story about earliest Cro-Kringlers--anthropologists believe they were midget pot-bellied cannibals--blood and berry-stained, and wearing belts, necklaces, and wristlets of bleached white skulls--who rode reindeer and sought human flesh! Climate change forced adaptation to cold and the rest is herstory, not ours.

Hey, What's Up on the Moon?

D'anna, our Lovely Nocturnal Companion

Dude, like s'up on the moon? Ya know, wassup?

Ecstatic Accolades and Electrical Embraces Tumble in Willy-Nilly!

Admonishments to " Keep" Writing? Indeed We Shall!

Another effulgent endorsement (note below)--this truncated-yet-pungent missive heralding from a gloried fairy-tale Wunderland across the Nautical Abysses! We here at the Mt. Palomine Institute of Mysteries are overcome with abandoned glee with this First Contact with aliens--strange-lings that communicate in a tongue hitherto unknown to us though similar in shadowy outline to the lost Trans-Iberian Espresso language absorbed osmotically (much like the cool-blooded Trans-Iberians themselves) by unruly Aztecs many years ago! In commemoration of this new benchmark event, Director Zliplitt donned a sombrero, perhaps imbibed some pharmaceuticals, and was seen cake-walking to-and-fro within the Institute horseless contrivance parking lot confines! The Director (not known for rambunctiousness), accoutered in Aztekian haberdashery and transparently off his lid, is a chortlesome sight that must be eyeballed first-handedly to be cognitively incised! We are also festivating nigh fifty or so postings, all plumbing lubricious lexical sea-bottoms, without recourse yet to a Thesaurus, a source of oxygen, or a hernia truss! [As a post-scriptum, a reader hailing from neighboring Kanadia has recently judged us "intellectually stimulating," I jest with you not! We are upon a juggernaut-like roll of international popularity with a double side of sauerkraut!]

Baphomet Q'ung Threatens Banana Oil Shutdown

The Perfidious Villain of our Ongoing Tale!

In a statement made to a political entertainment reporter for the Knickerbocker Clarion-Picayune, Baphomet Q'ung, Baalist sometime-leader of the Puta Babylonian Autistic-Horrorists, and current headliner at the Aztec Dinner Theater in Dwillersbee Floats, Mohican National District, threatened to "sever forever the banana oil pipelines and bring the Norman cock and Aztekian bull to their knees, I mean if Baal had willed that chickens had proper knees and all!" Q'ung's nightly performance as Curly, the Balucatherium-rider, in the Aztec's presentation of the 1946 classic musical Cherokee National District! is bringing audiences to their feet and critics to their knees. Banana oil is a critical lubricant for any complex bureaucratic mechanism (and therefore not a necessity to the Empire, praise the wisdom of Wotan!), but the many leaders of the Former Republic of Former Russland, Deutschbrand, Nipponinc, Injahlahlahland, and the People's Paradises of Tic-Toc have expressed concern over hostile remarks made by Q'ung during a book signing/poetry reading at the Dwillersbee Floats' Barnes and Diors Literary Coop.

SPAS Kraken Meat Products and Bloche Block Construction Toy Ltd. Announce Merger

Hey Kids, Let's Make a Sandwich!

SPAS-Bloche Educational Foodstuffs Ltd. encourages kids to play with their KrackBrik processed meat construction toy and eat it! Keeping production costs down and expanding distribution were the respective primary concerns of Bloche Block Ltd. of Grand Swizzlestein and the Former Republic of Former Russland-based SPAS, so a merger seemed logical to business analysts and gurus. "It's all for the children... of our investors!" announced SPAS-Bloche Public Assuagement Director Penelope Pounder. She also detailed the long history of linkage between creative educational sandwich-construction and increased corporate profitability. "We've found that young people who cultivate their imaginations to create and eat sandwiches with Krackbrik brand products tend to score higher on standardized tests than children who don't eat." Director Pounder added that creative sandwich-makers develop the complex and in-demand service skills required in today's competitive job market.

(S)'NEWS and X-treme News--How We Don't Keep Ourselves Informed on Lovely Erde

Enervating and Monotonous Drone of Mild Troubles Cures Insomnia

Newspapers on Erde flourish as all the spongy junk news is now being funneled to viewers through new N.O.W. news services--(S)'NEWS (Somnabulant News Agency) for the sleep deprived, and X-treme News for folks who enjoy listening to the dulcet rumble of Armageddon as they do their laundry or ironing. The (S)NEWS network broadcasts non-stop and monotone-delivered reports of global pseudo-news filler such as live coverage of children temporarily trapped in wells and in no real danger, stories of people recovering from minor surgery, tornadoes that passed through beet fields, political speeches, fender-benders in foreign lands, first-person recollections about the difficulties of growing up with big feet, and moving picture/royalty actor and actress dating capers. X-treme News offers a veritable Old Uncle Nicklesday's parade of nightmarish speculation: what might happen if a Bat Wiggle pandemic ever spreads about, worst case scenario if Persia grows a Sunbomb, the horrors that will be ours if Erde spins out of control and plunges into Sol because of uncontrolled Global Warping , how everything will go to heck if autistic-horrorists succeed in shutting down the banana-oil pipes and bringing the "Bull" to a complete halt, and other terrifyingly entertaining, largely theoretical, and not immediately pressing issues. (S)NEWS and X-treme News are expected to supplant the increasingly indistinguishable afternoon melodramas and National Public Wireless's news and commentary program, Dull Things Reconsidered, which at any rate may be merged with the Empire's largest circulation humor paper, The National Interrogator, according to recent rumor. Commenting on that allegation, outraged NPW newsanchor Sandor Seagoon insisted, "There is absolutely no common ground between, say, irresponsible and sensationalist reportage of End Times, aliens in government, and two-headed calves, and our award-winning stories about the upcoming environmental catastrophe of global warping, and the plight of migrant, two-headed, radioactive, crack babies in prison--heck, it's the difference between common diner coffee and a mocha latte cappuccino!"

Pille Bethrumps "Diplicious Jackwastes and Panty-Breeders" and "A Fish This Big" at Institute Convocation

Breaking National Optical Wireless (S)'Nuze--more later

Planetary Panopticon Noticed at Last--Hand Lotion Magnate Greases our Skids and Egos!

Balm--Defying the Ages!

"this is the funniest and most erudite site i have ever siin on the web! bow to the professor, onion-ites!"...and with that the acclaimed (if no master of the spelling arts) Dr. Jurgium lavished praise on this till now too-lonely Blog. Professor Pille responded in kind: Praise Pilate! At long last a favorable assessment of our sweat-stained efforts! We will carve your comment into a chunk of anthracite, strap it to a singing frog, and insert the amalgam into the foundation corner-stone of our newest Institute structure, The Mt. Palomine Institute Memorial Leech and Lamprey Petting Zoo! [In honesty we do admit to some ignorance regarding the accurate meaning of the more-than-welcome message--the verb siin for one which suggest some sort of moral transgression and the reference to "onion-ites" who on our world are a tiny cult of technology-shunning scallion-worshipers, akin to your "Amish" We are certainly thankful to be regarded as erudite, though, whatever that means!]

Pilletrails Magazine Lacks Controversy, Promotes Bi-Kultural Mediocrity

Lightly Oiled and Deeply Geared for Average Urth Middle-of Roader Extremist Lifestyles

Scarcely caring to lose the lucrative Kultur Wars cash cow on our parallel universe world of "Urth," the Mt. Palomine Institute publishing division--Pillepublico--has been releasing separate Red "State" (what we call National Districts, a "state" is a condition of matter, as in the state of being a gas) and Blue "State" editions of its ever-popular Pilletrails travel magazine in an attempt to appeal to extremists of all yellow stripes and large calibers. Issue Number 1 of the "Urth" versions feature hard-hitting red or blue articles on, nature (bulldozing or blindly worshiping), wildlife (killing or blindly worshipping), firearms (blindly worshipping or acting like frightened little girls about), and what's wrong in Warshin'town? (not interfering with people's lives nowhere near enough or not interfering with people's lives nowhere near enough). The cover of the Blue "State" Pilletrails (above) depicts the last Jibjobwa Native American meditating stoically, pacifistically, and without gender or sexual-preference bias on the destruction of his/her traditional hunting grounds by the White Man (with a little help from some Irish, Freedmen, other Natives, Hispanics, and Chinese Coolies who at no point ever saw the aboriginals as anything less than comrades and kin). The cover of the Red "State" Pilletrails (above) depicts the first Jibjobwa entrepreneur counting the casino's wampum and pondering advertising costs and his investment portfolio. [Our Erde home edition cover just shows a Jibjobwa Medicine Man patiently awaiting mail plane delivery of the new Whitefeather-Ward catalogue--reprint of a famous painting by Norman Rockwell] Both "Urth" editions contain identical advertisements for wines, cheese-of-the-month clubs, SUVs, fashion accessories, collectibles, self-help books, and stuffed bears (red) or dolphins (blue), indicating a commonality of (if nothing else) income and obliviousness.

Intern Lambasted for Honesty Brutality and Vicious Truthfulnesses

Edward Armouralle, the Naughty "Intern"

Despite stern admonitions--a Prime Directive of sorts--to never "tell it like it is" when answering mail from our Echo World of "Urth," our not-so-young chain-smoking intern did so (in a lengthy discoursing that trod upon the overinflated shoes of nearly every clown, buffoon, and village idiot on that woe-begone planet) and was, as punishment, transferred to the new Murketing Department where he will supervise the staff and edit the brilliant contributions of the talented crew of baboons who are now hard at work brainstorming away there. Armouralle will be further chastised with a substantial pay raise (forcing him into a higher tax bracket) and a long paid vacation: a palpable warning to all Institute personnel that there is a limit to our tolerance of calling it as one sees it in front of the youngsters. We hope to reassure our loyal readership "over there" that we are in total congruence with your views, as laughable as they all are. We emphatically don't intend to place at jeopardy our circulation numbers and lucrative advertising sales income with non-entertaining controversy, uncomfortable cerebrations, and "boring"--as you describe most things that fail to make you chortle and touch your toes--polysyllabic proclamations!

Bloche Block Construction Toy Company Simplifies Product Line

Licensing and Cheap Materials Seen as Skeleton Key to Long-Range, Short-Term Things, and Short-Range, Long-Term Something-or-Others

Bloche Block is also researching Starjaws collectibles fabricated from sea shells hot-glued to driftwood. The soon-to-be ramped-up-to-the-clouds-and-incinerated marketing whiz-bangs at Bloche Block Ltd. also "discovered" that sales are boosted if the collectible (and highly authentic!) bricks are packed in sugar and packaged in saucy adult-video boxes. Mt. Palomine Institute consultants are preparing yet another Zeppelin brain-storming session/catastrophe especially for Bloche Block executives with certain hoped-for results. These Marketing Barbecues may prove to be regular events if this nonsense keeps up.

Tunarians Tout Tuna as Toughs to Tackle Kraken

Tasty Team Tuna Tell Tales of Terrific Tiffs with Tentacled Troublemakers...it's One for the Kipper!

Chicken of the sea? Not we! So say tuna today who toasted the till-now triumphant Kraken in a Tunarian sponsored sea-inspired mega-final nautical-title playoff battle. While also-ran Team Sawfish sat on the sidelines stunned and surprised by their stable-mate's sweeping successes, the determined tuna tore through the tightly tentacled cabals of overconfident Kraken-now-calamari creating complete cephalopodic chaos. Institute tuna trainers talked about tying the distinct tuna and sawfish contingents together into a single, tight, sub-marine, threshing-machine--one that could stand (or swim) and challenge the all-too-cocky coastal critters who've caused our current ocean-current crisis.

SPAS All Set for 2006 Volcanotown International Exposition

Former Russland SPASmobile/Embassy to Serve up Chunk Kraken: "If You Can't Beat 'Em, Eat 'Em"

SPAS--the former Russland People's Intelligence Cooperative (Spaski Pyotka Atkrupkin Socializtik)--is now a popular brand of chunk Kraken-based luncheon meat derivative, and free samples of the rubbery squid-like substance will be available to visitors at the 2006 Volcanotown International Exposition. The colorful horseless vehicle also doubles as a roaming Former-Russland embassy and the simulated "meat containment tank" atop may be used as a sauna and projection room. The Former-Republic of Former-Russland (FRFR Inc.) is located in a corrugated iron shed in the back lot of an abandoned Pille-Mart somewhere in the Uralpine Mountains.

Moving Picture Histofactoid--Godzfatha (1954)

An Enraged and Radioactive Marlo Nobrand Destroys Stellatokio Spaceport in Godzfatha Part I

Awakened after millions of years of sleep by the accidental detonation of an anti-Kraken sunbomb near an uncharted Polykneesianal Nautical Abyss island, the criminally-organized organism, Godzfatha, attacks the helpless Nipponinc spaceport of Stellatokio after its citizens refuse to pay protection Yen. The monster, played by three-time Omphalah-Award winner Marlo Nobrand, meets his first of many ends (Godzfatha XXII--Godzfatha vs The Corporealate Sponges in 2003 being the most recent) when the equally gigantic Samurai-Choreographer-National District Attorney, Los Balanchine (Toshiro Mufune), arrests the murderous non-Asian beast for tax evasion and slaps restraining orders on the Creatrix (Katherine Hepburn in her last role) for her "irresponsible intelligent design." The sequel, Godzfatha II--Revenge of Sonzilla (1956), directed by Howard Hawks and set entirely in the frozen and spooky Norge-pole gambling city of Santarialand, received even more critical and public acclaim than its predecessor.

Aztekia to Rebuild Temple of Tenochtitlan as Shopping Center

Locus of Barbarous Pagan Activity in Disrepair

In darker times, each dreadful Satyrday twelfth hour in the Temple of Tenochtitlan, hundreds of captive audience members were put to death, their pulsing hearts torn from their flickering bodies, hot blood pouring shadow-like across scattered piles of Xilonen's "popped" corn; all for a hideous ceremony known as the Quetzalcoatl Horrorist Picture Show. Nowadays, only day-long screenings of classic Imperial epics like Lucas Schauspieler's Starjaws XII, or D.W. Griffith's monumental Birth of an Empire (and dipsomaniacal Lowetolerance), are available to the marginally calmer citizens of Neuholstein, capital city of Aztekia. Since the ban on theatrical human sacrifice in 1865, following the District Unpleasantness-es (1860-1865) and the Ascension of Abraham, the Temple of Tenochtitlan, although in use, has not been repaired or maintained. Fortunately, the Aztekia Department of Antiquities recently announced the release of 10,000 francs to convert this once nightmarish, yet now quaint, edifice into a Mini-Mall, to be called the Kukulcan Temple of Commerce. The annexed pawnshop (in photo to the left)--in operation since 866 A.P. (Anno Pilatum for newcomers)--will remain in business and the "Grail" (seen in this photo atop the fireplug), hocked by Edward the Confessor in 1216, will continue to be on display to the public along with Texican actor/singer Elvin Pretzel's stuffed Balucatherium, "Trigger," who's kept out back in a very tall tent.

Dalanie Eaglewing Dyerisch--Inventor, Belle Prizewinner, and Mommy

Frau Dyerisch (von Furstenblatt) circa 1971

We received hundreds of cable-grams asking for a photo of the renowned inventor of the optical wireless device (sometimes known as a VT or "Vue-tu") and creator of National Optical Wireless and we are obliging with this posting, a "pic" from our files. After completing the work than won her eternal fame, Fraulein Dyerisch (eventually Frau Dyerisch von Furstenblatt after her marriage to Epstein von Furstenblatt in 1943) retired from public view and devoted the remainder of her life to managing her parent's farm and watching her "shows" on the very device she had created. Her best loved NOW programs (information recently divulged by her daughter, Irene) were silent comedian Lou C. Baille's classic, I Love Loopy; The Powhaten National Districtian (with James Drury and Doug McClure); Aaron Burr-Imperial Defensor (Raymond Burr, who played Aaron Burr, was her favorite actor; Burr also starred in her beloved Romanipponese Monster Epics: the Godzfatha series); and Rod Serling's Twilight National District.

Congratulations on 75 Years of NOW Broadcasting and the Invention of VT

National Optical Wireless--75 Years Young

It began as the technological dream of a young girl living in a small farming community in the northwestern corner of Commanche National District. In 1929, 27-year-old Dalanie Eaglewing Dyerisch, fresh out of Polykneesia Nautical Abyssal Polytech with advanced degrees in Orgonics and Electrotopology and studies with Belle Prize winner Herr Doktor Clayton Forrester, returned home to the Commanche ND farm and immediately began work on her first Optical Wireless device--the ungainly Vue-Tu I (today on display in the technology wing of the Imperial Museum). Scarcely a year later she succeeded in sending optical wireless orgone vibrations from the roof of her parent's farm house to the Vue-Tu OW receiver installed in an abandoned clock barn more than three kilometers away. Today Dalanie's system--dubbed National Optical Wireless when inaugurated in 1935 --is in use Erde-wide providing news, entertainment, education, and enlightenment to the 2.8 billion citizens of the Empire.

Midget Flaccid Software Corp. Announces FM Mirror-of-Soul Version 06

Wilhelm "Gates" O'Hades (barely a meter tall)

At a press conference for all the mediums and the National Optical Wireless, Midget Flaccid Corp. CEO Wilhelm O'Hades announced the launch of his company's newest version of their Computing Engine operating system--Mirror-of-Soul Version 666. Improvements include software for analysis of urine, a method of "virtually" signing contracts in blood, and a 666 MEG forehead scanner/storage ID module capability that prevents non-imprinted operators from accessing the system. Fortunately, on Erde, Midget Flaccid sold only 25 units of their last version (MF Version 98) and all of them to patients of the same psychopolitical sanitarium where Herr O'Hades currently resides (in the Senator Claghorn Memorial Megalomania Wing). Erden citizens tend to avoid MF Computing Engine software because O'Hades is, in fact, Satan, the Dark Lord.

Zliplitt Promoted to New Murketing Position

Our Director of Assuagement and Murketing

With the delightful dissolution of the Institute Marketing Department we have decided to "fill the void," in a manner of speaking, with a wholly new concept and department--Murketing. Director Zliplitt will be employing a suitably festooned platoon of felonious baboons equipped with typewriters, cell phones, Flaccid Midget Corp. brand "Power Punt" software, and flow charts, to create an entire nonsensical Lexicon of Ridiculousness and Irresponsibility that will be available, at no cost, to those members of the public that enjoy pseudo-professional blather and gibberish, coupled with criminal behavior. Director Zliplitt has expressed hope that the primates will eventually be trained to answer his mail.

Charles Darwin Esquire Explains Intelligent Re-Design

Charles Darwin Esq. of the Mt. Palomine Institute of Mysteries

In regard to my well-received magnum opus of creation jurisprudence, The Intent of Man, I'm often asked by students and lay persons alike difficult questions regarding the nature of the primary contract between, Mankind (Inc.), and the Creatrix. The most sensible way to satisfactorily answer these interrogations with a bare minimum of legal bluster is simply to state that the initial negotiations and subsequent document were mildly flawed and that the Creatrix, in a sense, owes us--for not so much shabby but instead now-irrelevant work. Therefore, she has initiated a second round or "Intelligent Re-Design" as some pundits have dubbed it, of the flora and fauna of our fair Erde, dropping within our midst such useful creatures as the Aborigia National District Platypus Beer Opener, the Smoot, and now the User-Friendly Arachnid. I am, by the way, of no relation to the Albionian naturalist, Charles Darwin, late of nearly 150 years ago, who published a rather silly book about random happenstances and the destiny of the world's creatures, this in contrariness to the great Roman philosopher Pontius Pilate's assertion that as man "selects" (or as primitives put it, contracts with, as in a covenant) his or her gods (much in the same way as my clients select legal representation or chewing gum from an assortment) from the infinite Omniverse, the system that these people find themselves embedded within is effectively an epiphenomenon of the selection process. In other words, all "devolves" from the selection instant, and (as another great philosopher phrased it) what the Believer believes, the Prover proves. Our noble and peaceful society, rather wisely I might add, "selected" a sensible god--Wotan--a deity who protects us from intangibles and occasionally smites our enemies, yet a god we can dine or play canasta with quite comfortably. However, our somewhat superstitious ancestors contracted with the Creatrix and she has proven to be, if I may skirt slander, a bit of a ditz. Sadly, those on our Echo World are in dire straits in this aspect, caught, as dullards, infants, and our pathological Absolutists sometimes are, terrorized and ordered-about by their own unthinkingly chosen delusions, their own unpleasant pater-and-mater-nalistic shadows if we may say so.

Third Animal in Intelligent Re-Design Program Released by Creatrix

Icky Poisonous Spider Now Cute as Button

Above is an example of the Phase Two version of Latrodectus mactans or the deadly Black Widow Spider--third of the new intelligently-redesigned (for our modern convenience) species dreamed up by our beloved Creatrix. Although the lethality of this arachnid has not been altered in the least, its new merry appearance will make it, like contemporary hospitals and doctor's offices, a bizarre mix of pure terror and inappropriate whimsy. If bitten, you will be asked by the spider (in a rather sweet child-like voice) to rate the mind-numbing pain on a scale of one to ten. It will then scurry off to get you a cup of juice.

Relief from Anarchical Temptations, Announce I, Professor Pille

Ferdinand Vex has been Lofted to the "Moon"

Following the fortuitous helium-impaled demise of our whole and complete marketing staff, how in the Creatrix's Hallowed Name were we at the Mt. Palomine Institute to prognosticate that an emboldened and vengence-soaked Marketing Sympathizer lurked within our realms?! Our web site was, as the pagans say, Highly-Jacked, for a brief and ill-omen-ed flash of moments, as one may chillingly witness below. This tawdry set of Perfect Examples of a mind and world gone brain-flown and numb-puckered shall remain visible to idle browsers as a Warning and as a Service: permit such atrocities never again! As a post-mortum: Herr Vex has been packed into a mail rocket and posted to the black side of our astronomical neighbor. The "sincerely love-besotted" scoundrel and oaken bucket-of-grease billing himself "Tony Pille" was hustled into a horseless vehicle by security personnel and driven pell-mell to the Peninsula to be shaved and abandoned--sans culottes, and with only a flagon of water and a stale bun for sustenance--in the sunless mosquito-dense birch forests for a fortnight or two...simply to wipe the ludicrous smile from his visage. The hideous, cavernous, and funereal Pille-Marts were, every one, doused and torched, and the smoldering foundations sown with salt. The odd and assorted "products" of this retail abortion--including the fruit gyrators--were flung into the Nautical Abyss to be "consumed" by the less-discerning of the Kraken. I, myself, Antonio Pille happily supervised the kitten-like drowning of the full production run of Zipilatrix Mach III abominations; they were left uneaten by the Kraken, which says much. Now, following this head-aching microscopy-of-a-revolution, a fall backwardly to normalcy!

Pillemaster Opens Department Stores in Six National Districts

New Store in Simpton, Iroquois National District

Remarkably, Pille-Marts will be open to shoppers 37 hours a day due to novel applications of time implosions, legal shennanigans, illegal immigrants, and book cooking. Pille-Mart CEO, Tony Pille, was quoted as saying, "Laws of Physics? Hell, we'll do whatever we please!"

Welcome to our Professionally Sincere Online Catalogue!

Tony Pille, Founder/CEO of Pillemaster Quality Products and Boy Do We Sincerely Love You!

Hey, remember back when we were kids and Grandpa would fill us with yarns about the good old days--the years of crackling optical wireless gizmos, dip fried chick-pea sandwiches, and "red" summer snow 30 meters deep! Boy, those must have been fun times! Here at Pillemaster Quality Products we're working day and night to bring those olden-tyme memories to life for you and your family. Take a leisurely browse through our online catalogue; we're sure you'll find something to suit your backward-looking lifestyle: candles, aromatherapeutic items, dish towels, you name it. And more than anything, have fun...and remember We Sincerely Love You!

Tony Pille--Founder and CEO Pillemaster Quality Products Inc.

Pillemaster Horseless Carriage for 2006

The Pillemaster Zipilatrix Mach III

With twin turbo rear-worsted flannel excretion door hinges, span directed tubs, side fluted pony-tabs, depleted hydrogen compound full-bucket steering nodes, and sporg nurk flom blibbit, the 2006 Zipilatrix Mach III zips ahead of the competition! Crafted with sincere love by the Pillemaster family of hive drones.

Pillemaster Fruit Spinner for 2006

The New Pillemaster Fruit Spinner

Holidays are coming and no host or hostess will feel their smorgasbord is truly complete without properly spun fruit on the table. The Pillemaster Fruit Spinner spins fruit and vegetables without bruising or burning. Enjoy freshly spun fruit today with the Pillemaster Fruit Spinner! Made with the most sincerest love by the Pillemaster family of grunts and toadies.

Read reviews: httz//pillemasterfruitspin.con

Ferdinand Vex's Saucy Porn-blog!

Virtual Sirens of the Inter-Knit!

This shall be the first of a thousand or so photos of tarts and temptresses we shall post in order to gain some attention. Don't you find these ladies titillating? Would you not spend hours "surfing" as it were through our site in order to obtain more "views?" Are you overheated as yet and susceptible to other suggestions, like perhaps encouragements to read the postings that lack bosoms? For the ladies we shall have a selection of "stuffed" toys to examine, our first being a very large droopy-dog caricature of a bloodhound and then certainly a cheeky and adorable koala... or panda!

Ferdinand Vex just Wonders and Wonders...

Ferdinand Vex

At first I was comforted by the large number of comments on these postings. Then I noticed they all were attached to irrelevant advertisements of one type or another. I implemented a procedure to filter out these advertisements and soon found that nothing remained, which caused me to wonder. Now I get phone calls for vinyl home siding and emails about emails. At that point I began to send the link to this site to those on my "short list." I forgot though that the nation is illiterate and it will take years of difficult educational work to make it literate again. I'm wondering if I posted some saucy pictures of bathing beauties on the site perhaps it would garner more attention. I believe that's the solution--turn this into a pornographic web site. I shall start immediately.

Oy, the Humanity! "Hindenboard" Blows Up! Hooray!

Our Marketing Department Straightaway to Hades Amidst Cheers, Hat Flinging, and the Public's Wild Applause!

Initially mediums were concerned this was another Autistic-Horrorist "suicide-Zeppelin" attack on an unused broccoli-field. In truth, the Portville Chamber of Parking promotional airship Hindenboard--utilized recently to get the questionable Free Parking in Portville message across to the citizenry--simply impacted with the whip antenna of Dr. Wu's newest AFV (Absurd Futility Vehicle) prototype and exploded rather gaily before a large and delighted group of onlookers. Investigators found this accident odd, as the Hindenboard was inflated with non-flammable Helium. All the staff and personnel of the Mt. Palomine Institute of Mysteries marketing department, including director Patchouli Quakerflake, were aboard and all are (hopefully) now seated comfortably at the left hand of their Dark Lord and Master. Fraulein Quakerflake and her, uh, "associates" were holding a brainstorming brunch on the vast airship--pondering similar tasteless and obnoxious methods to market and advertise the services of the Institute--but judging from the deluge of supportive calls and telegrams we've received since the "tragedy," incinerating ones marketeers in a quick, public, and effective manner such as this may get our message of Progress and Science (and ability to efficiently eliminate numbered birds with a single stone) across far more effectively. Our ever-lovable Director Zliplitt of the Institute Department of Public Assuagement (and most emphatically not a member, and never a chum of the marketing team) agrees. He will be serving up cookies and cocoa in his office this evening as a "memorial" and has promised to roll up his carpet to create a dance floor for those so inspired. The Institute has no plans to replace the lost employees and the now blissfully empty department offices will be aired, bleached, and de-loused, and eventually transformed into the Mt. Palomine Institute Marketing Department Memorial Leech and Lamprey Petting Zoo. Gossip has it that the Emperor and Empress may consider offering free Zeppelin rides around Dr. Wu's offices and workshop to various politicos, quacks, absolutists, best-buddies of deities, and the terminally socially-conscious and over-earnest of all stripes and persuasions. Dr. Wu has been promoted to Chief of Development.

A Pause and Greetings from Professor Antonio Pille and the Staff of the Mt. Palomine Institute of Mysteries--Good Day to You All!

I most am, being he, the above-mentioned Prof. Pille

Mere niggardliness and petty pecuniary perspectives disallowed ourselves to be-use any other than speedy advantage of the "Blogger" medium for what must mandatorially, and in some further epoch, be a Full Tilt Web Site permitting dazzling graphics, loadable and exciting (to dullards) "Activity X" controls, viruses abounding at little additional remuneration, games, diversions, trivialities, and linkages to saucy and bawdy sites most would prefer to amble and loll lustily about within like decayed Romantowners on holiday. Meanwhilst, we must settle--as beggars not being selectors--for the duration with this tentative and amateurish initial excursion into the electronical abscesses, an interloping hardly ideal, and vehemently lacking in conveniences and accepted modernistical lowerings-of-standards geared for the attention deficit-ed. First and foremost amongst numbered consternations is the ordering of the postings; in a common low-life street blog each "ejection" boldly presents itself as the most up-to-date blatherings of the blogster, and all posts beneath their The Petite Epiphany have little if any value, as the blog-preparer has certainly lost sight of them his or her self anyway and shuffled on to even Greater Obliquities of Nothingness. However, in this Mt. Palomine Institute "Blog" it is best to, as it were, read from the lowest up as if the audience member were some disoriented Orphane of Judea perusing the Torah or, similarly, a bucolic attendant plucking ripened taters from the body of black mother Urth. Sans the perspective of the eons, the postings of the present day make little friction on the sensibilities, and perhaps only we, as unique Blogsters, dare even hazard this justifiably arrogant assertion. Ipso Facto, it is exhorted to the moderately attention-riveted herein that a precipitous plummet downward upon the very ocean-floor of this sea-of-words Via the Archives (!) should be the initial activity (and it is, truly, a suitable visit to the entertaining oceanic Coelacanth story--our inaugural post!). Then, work ones way skyward--monkeywise--until the newliest observation is reattained--an action in verisimilitude to ancient (yet lost) manners of "doing things" i.e. starting at the beginning. Furthermore, it is self-evident to even the most lackadaisical that the listings of our Mister Dimp should be prised from these pages and ignited with kerosene and cheap combustibles. We shall, here at my Institute, allow him the infrequent word or deuce so that we may maintain our "share," as the cretins within our soon-to-be-catapulted-into-the-Kraken-filled-nautical-depths Marketing Division phrase it (The structure and its driveling occupants will fly through the skies--the event will be advertised and admission shall be free--edifying to youth!). We hold now, at this point, for a short while as I, your most humble savant, Professor Antonio Pille of the Mt. Palomine Institute of Mysteries, carefully scan through earlier postings, augment and delete language, buff, burnish, and view the damage...and the pearls! [The next series of postings shall be from myself only and contained within may be increased light upon much of what exists here already. Our readers should know of our layout, our place of inhabitance--that being the community of Portville in the Narragansett National District--and motley dribs and drabs of our fascinating history. Unsolicited commentators have made wonder about such things--as any Erde school-child can lecture haphazardly upon--as the terror-provoking Kraken, our current heroic campaign against Autistic-Horrorism, the detailed particulars of our most beloved and pacifist-impress-ed Emperor Louis Napoleon VI and Empress Questina Matrix II, our thundering Great God Wotan, their permanent yet quadrally-rotating Dizzy Man in the White Mansion (or Flak-Rod), our splendid sciences, the vile and despicable Absolutisms, the amiable and agreeable Tunarians, our new-found relations with the Dual Venusians, our dismay at the wreckage of a spoiled society on Thor, our uncovery of your laugh-riotous "Urth," sundry geographies, topologies, biologies, zoologies, antiquities, numismaticisms, sauceristics, etc...all will be made transparent in time!]