An exciting new trailer for the film James Cameron is totally qualified to make.
Say, Mr. Murphyâcan I call you Ian?
Of course, Mr. Murphy is my father’s name. [Insincere chuckle]
Is the Buffalo Beast dead, or what? First you stopped printing, then went to website, then all posts stopped. Whatâs going on?
The BEAST isn’t dead, but it is starving. It’s very difficult to maintain the financial viability of any media outlet, especially in the internet age, and our particular brand of vulgarity has never played well with advertisers. While our abject lack of operational capital has been apparent, well, forever, it never seemed to bother us. But this winter was a demoralizing time, for a bunch of reasons, and we basically just dropped the ball. However, as this sycophantic interview and the other fresh posts suggest, I have picked up that ball. And I hope to accomplish some kind of sports metaphor with said ball in the near future. (more…)
Charges: Rose to god-like celebrity and tycoon-level riches smacking a ball into a hole with a stick. His promiscuity with commercial endorsements makes his sexual dalliances seem frivolous by contrast. Cheated on his Swedish supermodel wife with over a dozen women, all of whom look like âRock of Loveâ washouts.
Exhibit A: “Who is your new boy toy?”
Sentence: Zero stroke penalty. (more…)
âWhat would we do, baby, without us?â
-Family Ties Propaganda Song
It’s 1983: pro-business, family values conservatism is sweeping the nation, new creatures called homeless are squeegeeing the windshields of our wicked DeLoreans, Reagan’s CIA is funding the Mujahideen to repel the evil Soviets from Afghanistan and an NBC gem in its second season called âFamily Tiesâ warms the nation’s cathode rays and hearts. (more…)
BY IAN MURPHY
It came to me in a crystalline vision. Like Tesla, but dimmer. I could see the device functioning flawlessly in my mindâs eye, silhouetted by autumn dusk. Its design was simple, elegant, radio-controlled. The distant controller triggered the motor, turning the winch, winding the string, squeezing the pneumatic garden sprayer handleâand POOP! My invention wouldnât revolutionize the world as did Teslaâs alternating current, but it would shoot shit at Karl Rove. (more…)
The “magnificent P-Zed Myers,” as heâs known by Richard Dawkins, is a fearless heathen. The tagline of his blog Pharyngula reads: âEvolution, development, and random biological ejaculations from a godless liberal.â Heâs publicly desecrated the Eucharist and been chastised by the Catholic Leagueâs Bill Donohue, bucked down libel suits, received countless death threats from religious kooks and he can kick Godâs old, white ass with nothing but his mind. Myers teaches biology at the University of Minnesota, Morris. We decided to give him a call. (more…)
Evolutionary anthropologist, biologist and psychologist Robin Dunbar is most famous for comparing primate brain mass and troupe size to find the social limits imposed by the human brain. Dunbarâs number (about 150) can be seen limiting the populations of indigenous tribes, army units, corporate offices and other social groups worldwide. Ian Murphy called Dunbar at his office at the Institute of Cognitive and Evolutionary Anthropology at the University of Oxford. (more…)
âI want security, yeah
Without it I had a great loss, oh now
And I want it at any cost, oh nowâ
July 16, 2008ââAre you guys crazy?â a fisherman screams to us across his bow. His larger, motorized vessel rocks precariously in the Lake Erie chop, fifty yards off our port. The wind is twenty if it’s a knot. The sea, she’s a daft wench this morn’.
âYarrrrrr, matey!â Jones manages to answer, as a white-capped swell pitches our canoe like a child’s toy. The fiberglass prow hammers the deep trough and he bounces forward. âYarrrrr!â (more…)
âCan I hear ya say hallelujah?â
âCan I hear ya say debit âr credit?â
âDebit âr credit!â
June 6, 2008, BUFFALOâEx-con, con-man âfaith healerâ Rev. W.V. Grant hard-sells the flock of 150 at the One in Christ Temple. This humid night is his last working a five-week hustle on the cityâs east side. Tomorrow, the âMiracle Crusade Revivalâ pulls up stakes to go bleed another town. As instructed, I hold hands with a Muslim convert from Sierra Leon. (more…)