Thursday, February 22, 2007

Bass Pro in Olathe: Why free food is a bad idea, praying to the gods of consumerism, free t-shirts and a little skin.

As I hunched once more into the fake bushes to vomit out the remains of free food I had eaten less than an hour before, I realized that Bass Pro was now a full spectacle.

All I needed now was the paparazzi or one of our photos editors lackey’s snapping my picture at this awful event. But I should have known it was going to be bad from the beginning.

More a mile away from the store I could already see the television news choppers flying over head jockeying for the best position – it was only 5 p.m., the store still would not open for another two hours in its orgy of a grand opening celebration.

The crowds that amassed at the 140,000 square foot Bass Pro’s front doors would almost be comical if they all weren’t so dead serious about their huntin’, fishin’ and NASCAR.

Then again, it is amazing the kind of people you can bring out when you promise free t-shirts and food – not to mention the mere idea of glimpsing a piece of skin from Miss Kansas or a gaggle of Chief’s Cheerleaders.

Whole families came out with cameras slung over their necks and maps of the store ready to go.
People do not take picture of their three-year-old daughter at the opening of a Wal-Mart

Fuck, no. That would be weird.

Bass Pro, on the other hand, is an American institution that has harnessed the power of a church tent revival to pump up its soon-to-be customers in the parking lot.

Shouts of amen and halleluiah have never followed the ribbon cutting of a Jones Store or a Macy’s – that would be obnoxious. But they seem to fit right in with the crowd of camouflaged dads and hunter orange clad moms.

"We thank you lord for brining us here together to celebrate the goodness that is commerce."

As Trout fishing king Jimmy Houston commanded the crowd bowed its heads of a Jesus-laden prayer blessing the store he commented that it was probably rare that a store receive such a godly blessing.

Well, Jimmy, boy, you would be wrong. Olathe is the kind of town that makes the GOP proud. It’s the kind of town that ensures right wing nut jobs like your self and the whole NACAR electorate remain in power.

But this is not about power. This is about consumerism.

This is about selling hotdogs for a buck and saying a “portion” of the money is going to conservation. Maybe I was being punished in hunting section’s fake bushes for donating that dollar earlier.

This is about the all might dollar and it looked like the dollar was king in Bass Pro tonight.

But Bass Pro has sold itself – and done it will I might add – on making a show out of everything.

Every aspect of the store has some deeper meaning – from the god damned fake flies that sit on a fake pile of crap that is supposed to look like it came from the fake bison over the men’s apparel section all the way to the smiling faces that attracted huge crowds, the media and the hovering cameras to capture it all so we can be amazed at their finery and class – or maybe its to point and laugh.

God, knows I was.

Either way they succeeded and took us for a ride. Now that they had us in their sights all they had to do was pull the trigger and mount us on one of those wooden shelves in ther basement.

“Look what I caught today, ma,” they say around board rooms tucked away in Springfield, Mo. “It was just staring at me all glazed over – I think it was because I jingled my keys at it.”
Well, jingle away, Bass Pro, because from my perch here over this bush, you caught me exposed in the open.

The hot dog was a bad idea.

Now I know, so is Bass Pro.

Tuesday, February 06, 2007


People laughed when I said the Ministry of Gonoz needed to persue a space program...

Dressed like, JFK - head wound and all - and procliaming that the MoG would land an LSD addled mind on the moon in 10 years garnered only gafaws and chortles, CHORTLES!

No, sir, people did not believe this fearless leader when I declared an all out war on the Natioanl Association of Atronomoers and Space Geeks when they downsized the universe, budget cuts they said, and fired Pluto from its outer-rim corner planet office.

Well, Children, gather round my feet and let me tell you a story about the stars - you know those things you used to wish on before the clouds of smog and city lights cluttered your eyes.

There is no denying my love for Space and the idea of Space travel - I also cannot deny my adoration for crazy people... especially diper wearing ones.

3...2..1...BLAST OFF!

The MoG-Space Division will take this report under advisement.

We learned in Aspen that women are not allowed to we know they are not allowed in space - unless they are part of a super-hot alien race that is hoping to kidnap men in a devious plot to make us their sex slaves...

But that senario is being studied by My Attorney and another republic's Ministry of Love

Monday, February 05, 2007

Mike, you are such an enabler.

What they took from me.

1. An X-box: It really was nothing to terribly specail. It was an x-box, as I told the cop, that was on its last leg. You had to pry open the CD tray to get your DVDs or games out becasue the motor that works the door was busted.

The thing was sticky from errant Champagin and beer fights. It was a fallen solider caught in friendly fire - but it still worked when I could coax it not to fail. The controlers were worn from hours of play in dorm rooms and lazy weekends before I discovered writing.

2. Nintendo 64: Another toy. For years I would plany James Bond on this machine. I bought the graphic expansion pack for better play. High School and the friends I made from it would never have connected without it.

3. Ipod: it was my Ipod. It held every song and bit of music that I could take to work, my car, the gym, anywhere.

It was $300, but that does not matter to me. Tomorrow, I will be silent to the music i just purchased.

4. The Big Lebowski: I got this from someone I love. It had her initials writen, in alsmot a child-like fasion, across the face of the DVD. I always felt bad becasue I took this from her at first - and then she gave it to me once i finally fessed up to many things. she decided to have pitty. This, i know, i will miss the most.

5. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: I bought this myself. The scratches on the DVD came from hours of relentless play and adoration. We loved this movie. The Temple would play it to get motived, depressed, uplifted, inspired, you name it. It is now gone.

6. Batman: Some days you just cant get rid of a bomb. It took me a second to relize that it was missing becasue hte case was still there, but the movie itself was gone. This was another gift.

7. Big Fish: I still don't think she knows I had this. Now, I will never be able to give it back.

8. CDs: so many CDs. So much music wasted now.

9. All of my DVDs. Mean Girls and Bridge Jones's Diary were supposed to be joke gifts. I like those movies. They are no longer mine.

10. My desire to saty in this fucking city: I can tolerate crime. But this town and I had an unwriten truce. You don't fuck with me and won't fuck with you. Tonight, that bond was broken. And now Independence must feel my hatred and contempt. This was my home-town. Tonight. Its the last place I will ever live.

I can only hope my partner in crime will be willing to take flight come August. After tonight, this town can fuck itself.