Recently, our archivist stumbled across a transcript. You're probably thinking, "So what? I bet the intrepid Kaptains of Kreation unearth similar documents daily." Well, you're right. But you're also very, very wrong. This sheaf of papers is not another mere document whose only use is to be crumpled and thrown into a trash can in a vain forgery of basketball. It is in fact a transcription of a keynote speech our man Chris Peebles delivered for the Kansas Intermountain Alternative Arts College Class of 2008 (Go Chimeras!). Regrettably, we at The Korner inadvertently destroyed the original Super 8 footage of the address during a peyote-fueled kroquet sesh (session). Before you start screaming and drive a fist through your monitor, we have good news. The highly nuanced visual element of Peebles' speech is not lost forever. Our very own Gabe Gabriel was present at the event, and--as Peebles' inspiring words and actions were forever emblazoned into his memory--was able to go through the transcript and add annotations, flawlessly capturing the entire experience. So sit back, relax, and be jealous that this wasn't your commencement address (that is, unless you're a member of the KIAAC class of '08):
"Was there something innate in our founding fathers' DNA?"
Peebles shakes his head slowly back and forth three times, then does a single high kick with his right leg
"If B.D. Wong injected Thomas Jefferson's mummified essence into an ostrich egg, what would it yield?"
Peebles kneels, brandishes a can of pineapple Fanta, then pours the contents on his head
"Would a swivel-chair-inventing constitution machine burst forth from its calcium carbonate confines?"
Peebles runs in a large circle counterclockwise around the stage three times, jumps in place whilst clapping for approximately nine seconds, and then does a somersault back to the podium
"Or would we just get a bird, flightless and bearing too few feathers to make a decent pillow?"
Peebles straddles the provost seated at the end of the stage and makes a "raise the roof" gesture as he thrusts his hips vigorously
"They never used T.J.'s feathers to make a head cushion."
Peebles produces a single red rose from his pocket, sets it ablaze with a pistol-shaped cigarette lighter, then hurls the flower at the flag of Kansas
"Nor Ben Franklin's, for that matter."
Peebles flaps his arms wildly six to eleven times and then screams, "innovation!"
"In the end, these men met far better fates, which is what we should all hope for."
Peebles wraps the mic chord around his left arm, then inscribes a letter "m" on his Adam's apple with a magenta Sharpie he had removed from a houndstooth fedora beneath the podium just moments before
"Not just the alchemy majors."
With a wry smile, Peebles points a finger at the graduates. Scattered laughter ensues followed by several muffled coughs
"You kids are the future."
Peebles' form explodes into an orgy of skipping, jumping, twirling, fist-pumping, head-shaking, foot-tapping, hand-flailing and various other fiercely kreative bodily expressions. Suddenly, Peebles freezes, as if stricken, and crumples to the floor in a supine position. Peebles remains motionless on stage until the end of the commencement exercises at which point several security guards drag him offstage.