Tales to Astonish!

The set-up:
I hear the snow’s pretty bad this morning in New York!

The punchline:
Yeah, it’s actually more inconvenient than the recent transit strike, which completely shut down the subway and bus service. At least then, I was carpooling to work, traveling in warmth and comfort with only three other people, and I could reasonably call out of going to work if I wanted to. Now, the snow is making driving impossible, and the trains are running — but so slowly and with so many delays that it took me twice as long to get to work as it usually does, and I was crushed against the side of the car by the four hundred other commuters trying to fit onto the train.

It’s still not really all that bad, though, and hardly deserving of the title “The Blizzard of ’06″ that the news channels have given it. Two days of heavy snowfall hasn’t exactly crippled the city, and having lived in two much snowier places, I know that it could’ve been a lot worse. At least most of the roads were plowed by the time most people walk to the train in the morning!

The follow-up:
Man, I thought you said you had a joke about the snow. That wasn’t funny.

The hysterical retort:
That is the joke: that there’s no joke. It’s meta.

The straight man leaves the scene:
I think I get it: you were going to make up a joke when you started, but couldn’t think of one. So you just kept talking as if one might occur to you, but it never did. You misled the audience into thinking that there would be a guffaw in the making, but the real joke is on us.

An aside to the audience:
That guy sucks the mystery and joy out of life. What’s the deal with that?

DEFENSE OPENING STATEMENT: I like celebrities. I have several autographed items!

PROSECUTION OPENING STATEMENT: The defendant has repeatedly shown near-obsessive levels of fascination with mostly — forgive the descriptive term — “B-Level” celebrities, and on occasion a slumming A-lister or two. These actors and writers exhibit quirky behavior and talent that has failed to earn them wide recognition, but the defendant’s nigh-absolute compulsion to watch and read their work combined with his debilitating social awkwardness makes them fearful of his very presence. I will show today that the defendant [points through monitor at The Retropolitan] should not be allowed to speak to any marginally famous person, ever again. Or anyone at all, but that may be outside the scope of this trial.

Due to being on sets across the world (and frequently in Danny’s house), most of the celebrities mentioned in this trial will not stand as witnesses. Instead, we will focus on available physical evidence (“signed collectibles”) as well as witness accounts and the defendant’s own testimony.

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Let pictures speak louder than words:

Pure. Awesome.

Y’hear that, Lady Retropolitan? We’ve received orders.

Extra special thanks to my pals Doug and Mary, who got me the book for Christmas.

I got my black overcoat two or so years ago, back when I first moved to New York City, and it’s the only coat I own. That’s why I was so dismayed last week to notice that not only were the buttons on the front loosening, they were actually tearing off whole chunks of the coat that they were sewn to. That was the second problem I had with the coat, coming months after the lining decided to strip itself and hang helplessly off the hem at the bottom like Lee Majors on “The Fall Guy.” But, I still thought I could sew that up and stretch out the coat’s life for a few more months.

Today, I noticed that I’ve worn holes in both elbows.

That’s right, boys and girls: your host, The Retropolitan, looks like a hobo. The only thing missing from my wardrobe is a stick with a polka-dotted sheet full of clothes tied to the end of it. Next thing you know, I’ll be asking Britney to give back my Porsche.

One day, everything will end.

Out of nowhere, the skies will open up, and the light of Heaven will shine down as Jesus sweeps up the faithful to their eternal reward in a moment that will stand remembered for all eternity. The true believers of the world will be carried away from their mortality in an instant, leaving behind an earth full suddenly-ended lives. Their kettles will scream unabated, the coffee in their mugs will go cold; also, their blogs will stop being updated. I have a feeling that the rapture has already come to the blogosphere, because I’ve been trolling through a lot of lapsed blogs.

Last Post from Harsh Reality:

November 23, 2004, “A Rock and a Hard Place”

Drinking wine…way too much wine…listening to tunes…knowing I’m about to go where I shouldn’t…where I said I wouldn’t…into unchartered territory that is so dangerous, yet so intoxicating and irresistable.

It’s been so long…but not at all.

It’s been so strange, but also comfortable.

Anxiety, curiosity, dread, hope, confidence, fear…so many things words can’t describe.

Ohhhh, what to do. Caught between a rock and a hard place…

This one sounds like he’s actually watching Jesus come down. He’s even drinking Jesus’ own blood, although it sounds like he’s had too much of the magic plasma. So, it’s really a toss-up: taken home by divine will, or had too much to drink and hit his head on the table, to have his body found weeks later after the rent went unpaid for the standard 45 days of unresponsiveness? Or, for the long shot, stolen by Satan for abusing the ellipsis?

Last post from Confessions of a Coffeeholic:
September 5, 2004, Untitled

It’s been awhile, but I’m back and ready to post. With the elections, Hurricane Frances, NYC protests, and such, there’s much to write about….

Poor woman never knew what hit her. She was so, so excited to get back to blogging, to fill her online journal with amusing stories about recent life changes — but all she saw was a flash of lightning, and the roar of God’s hand tearing open the sky to pull her towards His ever-loving embrace. Also possible: actually was a coffeeholic, and was the center of an intervention that led her into a rehab clinic. Unfortunately, the rehab clinic offered free coffee and she never fully recovered. It could really go either way.

Last post from Amethyst Muse:

September 5, 2005, “Test”

Test of the blogger for word capabilities.

Sometimes, the Lord takes them way, waaaay before their prime. Maybe He was getting a little jumpy. At any rate, Amethyst Muse knew one thing before she was whisked off to her new kingdom: yes, Blogger for Word did, in fact, work. It’s good to go out on a high note.

Last post from the Atheist Historian:

From August 5, 2004, “Get smart: boost your brain through machines”

AI is Artificial Intelligence. Or, as in this case, Amplified Intelligence. Sign in to see full entry.

This one’s kind of a shocker, because of the out-and-out rejection of God and all, but it just goes to show you that you never can tell what Jesus is up to. Who says the Christ doesn’t like to mix it up a little bit? Perhaps they just needed a pool boy. I happened to sign in to read the full post, and it went something like this:

OMG so I totally put on the brain-probe’s suction cups, and suddenly liek I can do all this math. I’m tearing through algebra now guyz!!!!!!!!! Although, on the other hand, it’s starting to tingle… as if the cosmos were creating a swirling vortex of unimaginable, nigh-unperceivable rifts floating along the edges of my synaptic pathways. There seems to be something beyond this world; this device has given me a sight beyond vision, beyond what any mortal has ever experienced! My pulse is racing! I have become

—

Hey, look, the Pope.

Weird, huh? Well, mysterious ways and all that. Maybe there IS something to all this “god chatter” I keep hearing. For the time being, though, it looks like I’m stuck here on earth with you guys.

At least I have my blog to keep me occup