“OXFORD, UK – Two new discoveries have been made deep in the oak forests of England. Number one: there are no more oak forests. Number two: there is new evidence to suggest that even 5000 years ago, the world had to deal with lawyers.

The discovery was made during an archaeological dig near the City of Oxford. The scientists uncovered a shrunken, wizened-looking skeleton that had what the experts are calling a “”crone”"-like posture. The find has been dated to 3000 years B.C. The cause of death was easy to ascertain due to the large knife that stuck out of the skeleton’s rib cage. The skeletal structure is unusual, but it’s the stone tablet stuffed into the skeletons’ mouth that has really caused a stir in academic circles.

The linguistics department at Oxford University has been studying the previously unknown writing that was found on the stone tablet. After an exhaustive study taking many years, the head of linguistics, Professor Martin Moriarty, claims to have cracked the mystery language.

Lush For Life had the chance to interview the professor at his ancient residence in St. John’s College, deep in the back streets of ancient Oxford.

’Good afternoon, Professor, please tell our readers how you came to crack this mystery language.’

’I am one of the few linguistic historians who are familiar with the writing of this period. At first I could not make heads or tails of it. The script looked like Bronze Age writing of the time but I could not translate it. It wasn’t until my son was arrested for growing cannabis in the back yard and the following endless court hearings that the answer came to me.’

’Excuse me professor, what came to you?’

’The reason that the writing was incompressible to me was that it was written by an ancient lawyer. From this perspective, it has been possible through years of study to decipher the meaning.’

’What does the tablet say?’

’It turns out that an ancient Briton called Ethelred the Short-Tempered had a disagreement with his next door neighbour about a new fence Ethelred put up in his front yard. The lawyers had been called in, and it seems that Ethelred did not take kindly to this crony, stuffing his mouth with the court summons after plunging his knife into his chest. We were also able to decipher the inscription on the hilt of the murder weapon.

’Count to ten before using this knife, dear. Lots of love, your wife, Mrs. Ethelred the Short-tempered. XOXO.’

To finish this report off I went to visit my old professor of anthropology, who has stayed off the Mexican hallucinogens long enough to publish a paper on the skeleton.

’This find will revolutionize our understanding of human evolution. Having seen the skeleton of the ancient lawyer, I propose that this is evidence of a new branch of human evolution. Notice the elongated fingers, the hunched posture, and enlarged voice box – all the hallmarks of a modern lawyer. The next stage in my research calls for a nationwide genetic study of all lawyers to see how genetically different from the rest of the population they have become.’

I asked the resident Lush For Life team of lawyers if they would be willing to take part in the genetic study; after poking me with their bony fingers they told me to fuck off and then issued me with a restraining order. Bloody lawyers?

“

“PLANO, TX – These days, life at the Clarke residence is much more hospitable than it used to be, thanks in large part to a new series of Mac commercials which humorously differentiate between Mac and PC platforms.

Reginald Clarke, a forty-nine year old accountant, said that until he’d seen the commercials, he’d often fought with his son, 19-year-old Reginald Clarke, Jr., or “”Reggie”", over Reggie’s lifestyle choices.

“”We always used to be at each other’s throats,”" Clarke senior said.

“”I mean, I’m so straight-laced and he’s so…artistic, or whatever you want to call it, that we just couldn’t come to common ground. It was one of those, ‘hey, son, cut your hair’ type things, but much, much worse”"

Clarke junior agreed, saying he and his father often found contention with what he described as creative differences, explaining: “”He wakes up so early and is so stuffy about his suits being pressed and clean – it’s just so repressive, or something.”"

Clarke junior also said that his father didn’t understand his arduous work schedule, and often accused him of being lazy. “”Sure, he might wake up early and, like, go to an office and stuff, but I don’t get why I’m not as ‘responsible’ as he is just because I wake up a little later, and because before I go to work I just so happen to eat some Cap’n Crunch and watch ‘The Jetsons’ (or is it ‘The Jeffersons’?), for a couple hours”"

Clarke disagreed, saying his son doesn’t work, but “”just screws around playing guitar all day”" instead.

The younger Clarke, in turn, disagreed with his father, saying his band, Python Sunrise, is ‘seriously’ about to get a record deal which would make him richer than his ‘old man’.

Clarke junior also added that his father often chided him about hygiene, saying his father was so relentless about personal upkeep that he once sneaked into Reggie’s room and cut his hair when he was sleeping.

’Okay, I admit, it was a little weird,’ Clarke senior said. ‘But it was for his own good, and it did grow back. Rather quickly, come to think.’

The conflicts came to a crux, however, when Clarke senior kicked his son out of the house.

’He just started ragging on me again, so I called him out, and was I like, ‘you fascist,’ and he said, ‘well then leave,’ so I did.’

That week, Reggie slept in Python Sunrise’s 1992 Econoline minivan.

Reggie said that when he came home to gather personal effects and put them in a plastic milk crate he’d stolen from behind a 7-Eleven, his father was watching TV. The show went into intermission.

Though Reggie didn’t normally watch television because it’s ‘a corporate mind control machine that just tricks you into buying stuff’, he said the Mac commercial caught his eye even before he knew what he was seeing.

The premise of the particular commercial Reginald and Reggie saw, titled ‘Better’, highlighted the pros and cons of both computer platforms. In the advertisement, two men personify the Mac and PC systems. Mac sports unruly hair, a goatee, and a relaxed hoodie, whereas PC wears a stiff suit, glasses, and clean shave.

The different personalities both characters embody are thought to characterize the strengths and weaknesses of each computer. Whereas PCs are known for their day-to-day applicability, Macs are heralded for their flexibility and creativity.

At the conclusion of the commercial, which juggles both ‘agree to disagree’ and ‘Macs are better’ sentiments, Reggie Clarke approached his father, who was on the sofa, and they began to talk.

’The commercial – it was like looking in a mirror and seeing both of us,’ Reginald said. ‘I suddenly ‘got it’, that we were both better at different things, kind of like the computer, but that it was okay to be better at different things’

Reggie agreed, though in different words. ‘Yeah, my old man is totally boring like that guy in the commercial, but even though he was all bumbling and stuff, he could get along with the young guy that was really cool, like me’

’Because we were so similar to the characters in the commercial,’ Clarke senior explained, ‘it really made me reflect upon how we’d handled our relationship. PC didn’t cut Mac’s hair. They kind of just talked, which was really sweet.’

After several minutes of frank discussion, Reginald and son Reggie shook hands. They then made their way to the nearest Apple store at Pendleton Heights Towne Centre so that Reginald could buy his son a Mac computer.

’Sure, it was great making up with my dad. I really needed a steady place to live,’ Reggie said. ‘But still and all, the best part about seeing the commercial and making up was that my dad bought me a MacBook because of it. He said that since I’m a musician, I needed a tool to foster my creativity, or something. I agreed; the MacBook has let me get so much stuff done. Right after I got it and downloaded some porn, I immediately uploaded three Python Sunrise songs to the band’s Myspace page. It’s the most I’ve done in years. Now that I have a Mac, I can’t imagine life without it.’

Reggie said his band, Python Sunrise, was still waiting to hear back from Sony regarding its record deal.

“

LONDON – The ambassador of Japan to Great Britain, Mr. Guijin Kusai, came to confess all at the London headquarters of Lush For Life. Kusai looked like an agitated octopus as he floundered about the reception area while he waited to be sent up to my office on the 52^nd floor. I stood up as Kusai was ushered in by my secretary. I went to shake his hand, but the volume of sweat dripping from his hands made me think twice. I bowed, offered him a seat and a towel instead.

“So, tell me, Mr. Kusai, to what do I owe the honour of such an auspicious guest in my humble office?”

“I just had to tell someone, I can’t rive with the guilt any ronger. There was no poison prot to kill that Russian spy Arexander Ritvinenko. No kill squad was sent by Moscow or any rogue erement in the Lussian Secret Service. Lumours that he set himself up as a martyr in order to make Putin rook guilty are also a red helling. It’s all been a huge mistake, and now my honour is on the rine; you have to help me.”

I raised my eyebrows just slightly, pressed the record button on my Dictaphone I had in my pocket, and made a mental note to cancel the game of squash I had lined up with Prince Harry.

“As you know, there just aren’t that many fish reft in the Atrantic Ocean. The ones your fishing freets are catching are so small they wouldn’t satisfy my cat’s appetite. On top of that, those blonde-haired, blue-eyed devils from Sweden and Denmark keep stearing your fish and there is not a damn thing you can do about it.

“Fish have become a valuable commodity since sushi became so popurar in Rondon. The sushi restaurants of Soho have become a battleglound. Yakuza owned sushi bars have been stearing shipments of fish from one another, waging a war of underhand sneakiness that even an American poritician would be impressed. This all got out of hand as such things do, especially when Japanese honour is concerned.

“Somehow, the Yakuza got hold of some poronium-210 and poisoned the fish at their rival’s sushi bar. This may seem a rittle out of proportion to the crime, but then again, we Japanese don’t rike to do things in small measures; Akiramenai, as we say in Japan. We just don’t know how to quit. It just so happened that they poisoned an ex-Lussian spy and now all hell has bloken roose.”

I went to my liquor cabinet and poured myself a glass of single malt. I handed another glass to my guest. I made another mental note to cancel dinner at my favourite sushi restaurant in Soho and book into the steak house next door instead, but it was just not going to be a good day for eating anything too rare or bloody.

“So what can I do for you in this interesting time?”

“I am here to tell you my stoly so you can splead the truth before I carry out the orders of my superiors. Now that you know of the terrible deeds committed by my countrymen on your soil, I must saclifice myself to purge their dishonour.”

I must admit that my first thought when seeing Kusai draw his katana from beneath his coat was that I would never be able to get the blood out of the new cream carpet that had only been laid the week before. Kusai looked up into the middle distance and recited his death poem, Ippo Machigau To! (One False Step? The Sword!) before plunging his sword into is belly, committing sepuku.

I sighed again, finished my whiskey in a gulp, hit the intercom, and spoke to my secretary.

“Charlotte, Mr. Kusai has had a little accident. Could you be a dear and call the cleaners in, and if you could also give the carpet fitters a call, that would be great. I will be down at The Club for the rest of the day so, if you could, transfer all my calls.”

OMAHA – As the days of fear and reckoning expand outwards on a United States people filled with dread and anxiety of terrorist attacks, tainted water, and smoggy air, the number of hallucinogenic flashbacks has increased amongst hippies and philosophers alike.

Camera salesman Burt Langolier of Blitz Camera in Omaha experienced a psychedelic freak out while in the middle of a pitch, blowing an illiterate customer to sell the much-coveted Nikon L4, a four-megapixel mega-camera costing only $99.99. Continue Reading

“Shock, outrage, venom spewing political correctness – just a few of the principles that America has come to value, as demonstrated by the mass denouncement of Michael Richards (formally Seinfeld‘s Kramer). Have we really gone so far as a society to not appreciate a good outburst from a half-crazed comedian? Have we all been so twisted by the idea that we have to say the right thing all the time that we cannot appreciate one good snap? I hope not; otherwise, I’m out of a job.

As the days of Lenny Bruce fade into obscurity, America has become a country where words are regaining their often-meaningless powers. Slander, liable, and hate speech are one thing, but where do they end and free speech begin? Possibly somewhere in the neighborhood of shouting “”fire”" in a crowded theater, but is it the same if you scream “”fire”" when you’re up on stage at a comedy show?

Now, many of you will be saying that screaming “”nigger”" over and over again is a far cry (pun intended) from yelling about a fictional blaze, but is it? After actually watching the video of the cooky comic’s outburst (something which I don’t think many critics have actually done), it seems to me that Richards was trying to make a point. The point? Words alone have no meaning. Now, I’m not going to get into a philosophical debate over the validity of my statement (you can’t argue back and I’d win anyway), but a word only has as much power as you assign it.

Lenny Bruce, a pioneer in trying to get people to understand this, would often yell racial slurs over and over again to show audiences that the words become meaningless after the first eight or nine times. What Richards’ tried to do (and failed to) was A) silence the rude, obnoxious idiots in the crowd who were ruining his act, and B) see how sensitive people are to archaic, meaningless words used by ignorant assholes to offend and by funny open-minded people to make a point. He failed because of the over-the-top reaction of his dim-witted targets, and the audience’s support (brought on by guilt) of the morons screaming back at him.

So why make a big deal of it? I can understand that not everyone will be able to get your joke, see your point or understand broader philosophical views, but that’s why we have prisons and the Republican Party. What I can’t understand is Richards bowing to the soft, overly sensitive douche bags that make up the mass media and the Democratic Party (Hollywood) and apologizing to the “black community”, who probably don’t care.

Either he was strong-armed by his publicists or it was his own guilt over not being able to measure up to heroes of free speech like Larry Bruce, Larry Flynt, and Larry the Lounge Lizard. He DID botch the joke/commentary towards the end, but it was his audience who took the outburst as an insult.

As freethinking, intelligent individual, what can I really say to offend you? Really? I’ve been searching for something that would insult me. Call me a fat, obnoxious, loud-mouthed, over-opinionated bastard and I’ll agree with you. Call me stupid, a poor writer, or lazy and I’ll just think you’re idiotic. Call me a cracker and I’ll wonder what century you’re from. But I won’t get angry. I know who I am.

Reacting to a racial epithet is just as stupid as trying to use one to cause honest offense. If every black man and woman who was called a nigger simply laughed at the closed-minded, bigoted dipshit, the word would have no power in under a decade. I understand there are deep feelings of loss and resentment in the black community to the sins of the past, and even the present, but wake up! You are the ones giving those words power. Suing out-of-work actors only propagates the belief that words can make a label a truth. They can’t. Deal with it and don’t be stupid – let the people on stage do that for you, and laugh at them.

“

“Rupert Murdoch has decided that we won’t have to watch O.J. Simpson explaining how he might have murdered Ron Goldman and Nicole Brown. With television special, “”If I Did It”", dead, and the book deal ditto, Mr. Murdoch has actually apologized to O.J.’s victims’ families.

Mr. Murdoch also, surprisingly, told Lush For Life that he would not sell his grandmother, if he still had one. His soul, however, was apparently auctioned off long ago.

The Lush For Life Research Department swung into action. We put “”Survivor”" on one television and a particularly disgusting episode of “”Fear Factor”" (involving eating something you don’t even want to think about) streaming on a computer screen. We added a “”Girls Gone Wild”" DVD on the other TV. The environment was then suited to a debate about the age-old question of how low people will stoop for money, or 15 minutes of fame.

We reviewed the anecdote in which George Bernard Shaw (or was it Churchill?) is reputed to have discussed the issue with Lady Astor. It needs some updating, so we gave it a facelift.

Bill Clinton: Yo, Condi. If I give you a million bucks, will you give me a blowjob?

Condi Rice: Why yes, Bill, I do believe I will.

BC: And for five bucks? Will you put out for five?

CR: Bill! Are you calling me a ho?

BC: Listen, lady, we’ve already established that. Now we’re just establishing your price.

A few years ago, Bernice Kanner found that, while 63% of Americans surveyed would kiss a stranger for $200, 75% would kiss a frog for $50. Only 20% would fight a heavyweight boxer for $100,000, but 59% percent would shave their heads for $10,000. 24% of good Americans would betray a friend’s secret for $3,000.

Once a million bucks is on the table, 65% of us would live on a deserted island for a year; 30% would serve six months in jail for a crime we didn’t commit; 10% would lend out a spouse for the evening. Only 25% of US citizens (patriots that we are) would spy for a foreign power, regardless of price.

Time for some more research. What would an undergraduate do in exchange for an evening’s ownership of a limo with a fully stocked bar? 78% of undergraduates would attend a lecture in their pajamas, fall asleep, and snore loudly.

Big deal. 94% of faculty and TAs say their students do this anyway.

I already know that people kill, steal, marry, and have sex for money. They bare their souls on daytime TV, and sell their honor, their relatives and the family silver. However, if you Google ‘strange things you’ve been paid to do’, the depth of human stupidity is laid out like a buffet.

Amidst the pay-per-hour bondage slaves, and people making money out of licking tomato puree off other people’s armpits, I was most impressed with a story from British Gas. The hapless employee’s job was to open up two different databases and manually type the records from one into the other. He did point out that this could be done automatically, but was told “if it was possible, they would have done it already”.

Somehow, plain stupidity can be more annoying than an absence of moral standards.

Of course, Rupert Murdoch has recently displayed both, but at least he apologized.

Now someone should find the morons in British Gas, and get them to follow suit.

“

“NEW YORK – Conservative god Mark Levin, referred to as F. Lee Levin by fellow RNC suck-up and hypocrite Rush Limbaugh, was caught in a toilet stall at Yankee Stadium giving fellatio to a thirteen-year-old mongoloid on Tuesday, according to a NYPD insider.

Bill Sterling, who wished to remain anonymous, made the report, but not the arrest, at a carnival taking place at the stadium.

“”I walked in and then BAM! There was this dude, sucking the peter of some young retard. It was disgusting,”" Sterling said in his written report. “”There was drool all over the place, coming from the mouths of both Levin and the unnamed mentally handicapped teen.”"

Allegedly, Levin would alternate between tonguing the youth’s testicles and chanting passages from the Koran loud enough to keep from being ignored by the passing cop.

“”Levin was talking all of this gibberish in between rants like, ‘Allah is great! Mohammad is my master!’ and then would again fellate the child.

“”He then began shove a toilet paper tube up his own ass, moaning in what I would describe as groans of pure sexual ecstasy.”"

Levin has denied the allegations in his nightly radio talk show, which is syndicated on dozens of stations across the United States.

’I did not have sex with that boy,’ he fervently stated, followed by a detailed definition of ‘sex’ as described by former president Bill Clinton.

’All of you hypocrites at the New York ‘Slimes’ and the Washington ‘Compost’ can take that to the bank!’

His conservative airbag peers, including Limbaugh and Sean Hannity, have come forward to show support for their abased comrade, calling the allegations a ‘blow for the Republican Party set forth by both the Democratic and Gay Conspiracy, designed to bring the forward-thinking right to a point of implosion’ and an ‘obvious direct attack on the people of the United States and an outright act of treason’.

More as this story develops.

“

“PHILADELPHIA – Further inquiry conducted by the Lush For Life investigative staff has revealed new startling answers to the cause of the recent knee injury sustained by Philadelphia Eagles quarterback Donovan McNabb on November 19. McNabb sustained a complete tear to his medial collateral ligament – an injury that will require eight to twelve months of rehabilitation – while engaged in a seemingly harmless rollout pass play during the Eagles week 11 matchup with the Tennessee Titans. After the completion of the play, McNabb fell to the ground on the Titans’ sidelines wincing in pain, and upon further review of the routine play, the cause of the injury was unknown.

Examination of game tape of McNabb’s injury by Lush For Life investigators revealed loose, jagged pixels scattered across the grass of Lincoln Financial Field, caused by the poor, low-definition television broadcast used by FOX Sports. These pixels, according to Philadelphia Eagles team physician Peter DeLuca, are the cause of McNabb’s recent horrific injury.

“”He didn’t plant his foot awkwardly of shift his weight abnormally,”" DeLuca said to Lush For Life correspondent and NFL insider Rob Johnson. “”I won’t know for sure until we cut him open, but I think that low-def shit has something to do with this.”"

Though FOX offers high definition broadcasts of NFL games on a weekly basis, some games are still broadcast in the standard 480i resolution. Having such poor quality, according to Samsung technical representative Sin-Blah Park, can cause more problems than once originally perceived.

“”Having so little lines of resolution is a dangerous thing in today’s digital world,”" Park said to Lush For Life correspondent Arthur Rocks. “”I twisted my ankle just last week while giving a speech at a conference in Orlando. I’ll never be caught in low-def again.”"

Since the discovery, a team of NFL Films technicians has begun a detailed investigation into previous injuries sustained by players in the past. During the past ten days, hundreds of hours of archived game footage have been studied, and the studies have resulted in several findings.

According to NFL Films CEO Steve Sabol, several previous injuries that were once thought to be physical are now believed to be caused by low-definition broadcasts. ‘Our team has uncovered what we now believe is the major cause of injury to players in the NFL,’ Sabol said to Rob Johnson. ‘We plan on filming all of our future jobs in high definition; the only hope is that all the networks follow our lead.’

Some previous injuries believed to be a result of low-definition pixels includes the career-ending injuries sustained by former Denver Broncos lineman Mark Schlereth, Tampa Bay Buccaneers lineman Marcus Jones, current Kansas City Chiefs running back Priest Holmes, and Hall of Fame quarterback Joe Theisman.

Former Giants linebacker Lawrence Taylor, who ended Theisman’s career by snapping his leg in half during a tackle, offered his comment. ‘It is a huge relief,’ Taylor said to Arthur Rocks, ‘I’ve been carrying that guilt over my head for years, and to know that it wasn’t my fault will help me finally kick my out-of-control cocaine and meth habit.’

Though many more man hours involving digital reconstruction and restoration of old game tape will be required, the NFL in determined to get to the bottom of the issue.

“