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About: Murphy

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http://buffalobeast.com/
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Posts by Murphy:


BEAST-O-SCOPES!

September 23rd, 2009 by

GullersteinLeo (July 23 – Aug 22)

I know you want your country back, Leo, but there are some Iroquois gentlemen here who have a much stronger claim.

Virgo (Aug 23 – Sept 22)

I have seen the long form birth certificate, Virgo, and it’s the weirdest thing: Turns out it’s just a regular fucking birth certificate you douche.

Libra (Sept 23 – Oct 22)

I know you’re upset about the way the new GI Joe movie differs from the original cartoons, but consider this, Libra: You’re a grown-up now.

Scorpio (Oct 23 – Nov 21)

If you want your ex-boyfriend to leave you alone, Scorpio, I suggest you stop sucking his dick. Read More

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BEAST MAIL!

September 23rd, 2009 by

monkey_typing

RESISTANCE IS FETAL

This article by Erich Schulte was logical and irrefutable; it will be ignored by pro-lifers, or as I prefer to call them angry god botherers.

The human logic that we should actively prevent murder, therefore, not preventing murder (abortion)is being complicit in murder, is wonderful; I shall use it in my contacts with chritianism types.

Erich, I don’t know if this is original but you may like to use it in your own dealings with anti-abortionists, if not I don’t care:

A.)”If every fetus is a human being as you claim I assume they also have a soul?”

B.) “Naturally”.

A.) “They are aborted and then join Jesus in heaven?”

B.) “Of course.”

A.) “When you die you’ll go to heaven?”

B.) “Without doubt.”

A.) “When you meet these millions of souls of the aborted fetuses, what exactly will you talk about? That is will you talk about your life on earth, and how will a three week fetus,or a four day zygote respond, you dumb fuck?”

Reality and religion are two different worlds, articles like this do spread; I intend to spread it,

Cheers Erich,

Rob.

Dear Rob,

Here’s the problem with your argument: Adults don’t have souls either. And there is no heaven. And if there were, the assertion that aborted fetuses would make terrible conversationalists isn’t much of an argument. Why not just pare it down to “you dumb fuck”? Read More

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Man Man at the Tralf

September 6th, 2009 by

So there was that band Man Man. For the last few years you had friends who’d mention that you’d’ve got to’ve checked them out. Maybe you did: the Pitchfork exclusives or the Takeaway Show on Youtube. Maybe you copied their second or third album off someone. And as it turned out, that one friend was right; it was sort of like if Zappa and/or Beefheart did cabaret. And it DID make sense that they were on the same label as Tom Waits. But there’ve been so many distinctive-genre hype wagons out there the last few years that you don’t really notice them floating by anymore. So you might never’ve ended up getting INTO it, per se, et cetera, et cetera.

That same Man Man came to Buffalo on (a Tuesday) July 14 and proved, once and for all, that “yes, we are sort of like if Zappa and/or Beefheart did cabaret, and it totally makes sense that we’re on the same label as Tom Waits, but that flips your switch, baby, so you paid $15 to get in. Enjoy.” Read More

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The Uncivil War: Cousin Against Cousin

September 5th, 2009 by

By Eileen Jones

How does your extended family shake out politically? Me, I come from a rabid tribe of right-wingers containing a renegade band of fulminating lefties, plus a couple of pleasant and reasonable moderates nobody listens to.

Fortunately we’re all scattered across the country, trying to make sure each relative has his or her own state in which to be an opinionated pain in the ass. This prevents family quarrels. Or at least, it did for many years. But now, with the internet and all, family harmony is steadily breaking down. Communication, that’s the problem. If you give people the means to do it, they’ll tell you what they think, and that’s when you get those mass-killings we read so much about these days. Read More

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I'm Eatin' People Food Tonight

September 5th, 2009 by

A BEAST Reader Opinion
by Jimmy Stinson

Brought to you by…

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You read me right, by Jiminy. I’m a eatin’ people food tonight! Hot dog! Well, not quite, but close.

The dish du jour for this monsieur is a barely dented can of Vienna sausages, thank you very much. Who would throw away such a fanciful delicacy, you ask? The Walgreens down on 5th. Itchy Dave dug ‘em out the dumpster. They was right on the top! But you know Itchy Dave. He ain’t want nothing to do with ‘em. Some people do not appreciate the finer things, mon aimees. Greasy, congealed pearls before swine.

Peggy and her new beau might be up under the 17th street overpass tonight. I saw her yesterday down near the mission and she said they might even get some hooch with the money they got from sellin’ plasma. Sausages and a cocktail, that would be somethin’, boy.

I generally stay away from the mission on account of the proselytizing, but sometimes you just have to accept Lord Jesus as your savior to get you some tube socks, you know? I don’t see any other reason to—except these here Vienna sausages, naturally. They better than any old water-walkin’ anyhow. I mean, what’s that ever done for anybody?

A guy I tramped with down Baltimore way used to say, “Jimmy, there’s two things you need to know about this here life: one, keep your feet elevated to reduce the swellin’ and two, a man will always trade Jesus for a good lookin’ woman!” And don’t you know he was right. Too bad so many of good ones freeze during the night.

Once Peggy was talkin’ how we should get down south. Now this was way before she done hooked up with that fella. Them fools is inseparable now, thicker’n thieves. But you know, she ain’t laid eyes on these here Vienna suasages. Ol’ Jimmy’s got a few trick up his sleeve.

A woman, some fine cuisine and the hair of the dog what bit me! Now that’d be the life, brother.

That’d be the life.

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Medical Experts: Palin “Too stupid to live”

September 5th, 2009 by

BALTIMORE — A team of doctors and cognitive researchers issued a joint statement Thursday detailing “pressing concerns” regarding recently retired Alaska Governor Sarah Palin’s health, claiming the Republican starlet “may be too stupid to live much longer.”

At a press conference in johns Hopkins Medical Center, neurologist Rajib L. Shaktakarian spoke for the group as he listed off a number of observed symptoms, including aphasia, memory loss, delusions, and “general idiocy,” which “seem to be worsening by the day,” judging by recent public statements.

“Normally,” said Dr. Shaktakarian, “these symptoms might indicate a stroke or series of strokes, but judging by her apparent bodily health, and the lack of facial drooping or motor-neuron impairment, we have concluded that Palin is suffering from a severe case of clinical stupidity, which we fear may be terminal.” Read More

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All About the Green

September 5th, 2009 by

by BEAST Guest Editor
An Anthropomorphized Tree

When I was first approached by Allan Uthman with an offer to guest edit an issue of The BEAST my first thought was, what the heck is that?

He explained a bit about it: in the summer of 2002 an ex-Mongolian basketball pro by the name Taibbi moved from Moscow to Buffalo and started the ultimate, free biweekly with a wily lawyer named Fallon. He soon realized his terrible mistake and got better work.  The fledgling local paper persisted under the incompetent guidance of Fallon and a rogues gallery of semi-literate editors, until this Uthman came along in ’04 and failed to measure up to Taibbi at a slightly higher level.

I was unimpressed, offended. Matt Taibbi has been slaughtering my people for his “journalism” for far too long. No, Rolling Stone has never been friend to the earth. The ego! And despite this BEAST’s move to a monthly, pay format a few years ago, the human standing in my majestic shade has been responsible for the killing of scores of innocent trees, and distributing their pulverized corpses across the country with carbon-emitting automobiles. He is no friend of the earth!

Then this Uthman had the gall to try to impress me with the story that he’s an Iraqi born Kurd, whose father was once Saddam Hussein’s dentist. That’s how he got on Al Franken’s radio show, he said. How am I supposed to take this guy seriously?

“We’re going green,” he choked up, touching one of my knots. “It’s only online now. We’re, um, eliminating our carbon footprint or something.”

I could tell from the hurt in that Kurdish man’s weird-looking eyes that his tears were not brought on at all in the least, never, ever, never, at all by a vain desire to see his byline in print or by the magazine’s financial inviability in the face of both an economic depression and the demise of print media in the internet age.  He wept from remorse. I forgave him and we embraced.

It’s now my honor to call Uthman a friend, and it’s my duty to guest edit this 138th, very special online-only edition of The BEAST.

Now what will this mean for me, the reader, you may be asking? To all fellow travelers here on space ship earth this will mean all the fresh air you can breathe and all the unpolluted water you can drink! To the casual or avid internet reader this will mean you’re a trend setter! As a subscriber to the print edition, this will mean you’re probably not getting your magazine. Sucks to be you.

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A Yard Sale in Chernobyl

September 5th, 2009 by

By Joe Bageant

“It’s only a system,” she said, as we floated through the sprawling supermarket’s gleaming commodity lined indoor streets. “THE HELL IT IS! It’s a goddamned air conditioned zombie hell of waste and gluttony,” I thought to myself, before the usual vertigo completely enveloped me. Just back from Central America’s simple, comprehensible mercados, bodegas and street cart vendors, the effect of this most common American shopping venue was, as always, one of vertigo. Head splitting light beats down on pyramids of plastic eggs, as if to incubate their hatching of the ladies stockings within, dozens of kinds of toothpaste, well scrubbed dead chickens, lurid baskets of too-perfect flowers, plastic wraps, tissue for faces, asses and wrapping gifts, row upon row of polished vegetables and fruits standing like soldiers waiting for the annihilation of salads or the ovens of casseroledom. Read More

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