Sunday, May 31, 2009

The Korner Kills

Again, we feel the need to explain today's post title. It is "The Korner Kills" as in it kills preconceptions. We don't do murder, but we have gotten several complaint letters, hence the explanation. Get it through your thick skulls, this has been a long week and I am sick and tired of answering phones, emails, and telegraphs worrying me about the kontent of our humble blog. Anyway, now that I've hopefully satiated you insane do-gooder freaks, let's get onto the content, shall we? For this week's answers to your questions, we tapped our own aging resource of folk wisdom, Snappy Tom. While he might not ride scooters or read "Wall Street Journal" like all the hepcats of today, he can certainly teach us a thing or two. Here goes:

Hi, I see that you have a successful website, so you surely know your way around a computer. I've been trying to send this email with pictures attached to my mother, but my email provider keeps refusing the jpegs and saying they're are too big. But I know this can't be true because I downsized them to the specified 10-megabyte file size. Help me, Kreation Korner, you're my only hope!
-Friend in need, Seattle, WA

"email?" J-pegs? Super-bites? Friend, I can't say as I know what in the heck you're talking about. What I do know, though, is people. I've traveled the world and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that no matter where you go, there's always gonna be people. Sure, they might not look like you, talk like you, they might not even enjoy creamed corn like you, but isn't that what makes the whole thing so darned interesting? People everywhere, can't escape it, no use in trying so might as well embrace it and enjoy the carrot juice while it's still flowing. For the Kreation Korner, I'm Snappy Tom saying farewell.*

*This advice segment was transcribed by Gabe Gabriel after Snappy Tom was found attempting to push individual keys from our keyboard into the KKHQ tape deck.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Kommentary Korner: A Grievance

Recently, this very weblog published a column by the brash Nash Stillwater. I tend to see The Korner as hit or miss. Stillwater’s unfortunate opinions fall under the latter category. In the past, I have expressed my disgust for this impetuous rapscallion, but my feelings of animosity towards him are reaching a breaking point. Not only does his weepy, patronizing brand of pontification besmirch the hallowed name “Kommentary Korner,” my direct interpersonal encounters with him have compelled my blood to boil and my nerves to sublimate. Talk about one preachy asshole! The other day, for example, Huey Dood popped into the HQ with five large Wizard of ‘Za pizzas for the troops. I quickly noticed they were all pepperoni so I complained to Huey in a lighthearted manner, “Would it have killed you to have gotten just one supreme, goofball?” We were just joshing around, but Stillwater had to get all serious on our asses. He said, “You know, Pete, there are children in India who would give anything to have this pepperoni pizza. All they have is cheese with sub par tomato sauce.” After that, we all just stared quietly at our pie for ten straight minutes shamefully taking small bites. Not only did Stillwater dispatch the buzz at what would have undoubtedly been a legendary pizza party, he called me "Pete" after I made it explicitly clear that my preferred name is either Mr. Doe or Peterskeeter. Furthermore, he also had the rocks to tell me this morning that I should trade in my 1975 LeSabre for “something with better gas mileage.” Of all the nerve! Judith has stood faithfully by my side for the better part of 30 years, and this kid just expects me to abandon her for some half-electric Toyota hussy? I’ve had it up to here (imagine I’m holding my hand up really quite high) with Nash Stillwater. I know he’s spearheading the Header Committee and is considered by some to be a valued kontributor, but I will not just fold like a crepe on crepe day as Stillwater consistently disrespects my authority as Kommentator Laureate. As it is clear that the ever reluctant Korner staff will not reprehend him for his impudence, I have decided to take it upon myself to teach the brazen Nash Stillwater his place. To do so, I hereby challenge him to seven rounds of fisticuffs—Cityville rules; down and dirty. You pick the day, time, location, attire and post-match refreshments, Stillwater. I just want you to be comfortable before the swift pugilistic fury of Doe justice comes crashing down onto your sorry frame. --Peter Doe

Monday, May 25, 2009

New GMB Hit Single!

We are pleased to announce that our dear friends Gerry Mander's Band have just released the latest track off their EP "We Built This City On Easy Listening". The song is called "So Much Stuff" and it's a sonic revelation. The unrelenting klang of guitar and klatter of drums deliver a raw, uncompromising impact on the ear drums. GMB are authentic kreationists through and through, and we're honored to support and promote them. Klick here and prepare to have your very konsciousness rattled to the kore.

Gerry Mander's Band, Boise 2006

Friday, May 22, 2009

Kommentary Korner

Not to be a downer, but there is no reason why we deserve to be happy in this land of plenty. How can we even put a smile on our faces when there is so much suffering on this planet? What gives us the right to even get up in the morning when there are those out there without water beds?
Let me lay some statistics on you to better illustrate these woes: every time you eat a patty melt, 87 third world children starve to death. Every time you drink a grape Fanta, 143 children die of thirst. If it's strawberry flavor, make that 216 children. Every time you chew a half to whole stick of wintermint gum a staggering 456 needy children die by horrific means reminiscent of chewing. Feel guilty yet? You should.
Did you know that the electricity required to watch the season finale of NBC's The Biggest Loser on your video iPod could be used instead to power the entire country of Haiti for three entire weeks? Of course you don't know this. You're too busy watching the season finale of NBC's The Biggest Loser on your video iPod. If you ask me, the biggest loser in this unfortunate pickle our world is in is you, you ignorant capitalist pig.
The excesses of our American lifestyle do not merely result in human losses. Oh no. Mother Earth feels the pinch too when we indulge in our four-meat dinners and soak for hours in our Hollywood Jacuzzis. Did you know that every time you turn the key in your Hummer H3, four entire species of sea lion are swiftly eradicated by catastrophic oil spills? How about this disturbing little nugget: every time you deposit a crumpled sports section of a medium distribution daily metropolitan newspaper into a trash can rather than a clearly marked recycling receptacle, 48,678.3 acres of pristine rain forest are reduced to a hellish expanse of charred stumps.
Do you think it ends here? If you do, then you're a goddamn asshole. Just remember that the next time you eat a sautéed link of gourmet venison sausage you're denying the deer meat required to sustain one gray wolf. One doesn't sound like many, but wolves are a keystone species. Taking one of them out is tantamount to making an unadvised move in Hasbro's Jenga (the Jenga tower in this analogy is the entire ecosystem while a single precariously located block is the wolf).
I could go on and on like this, but someone less fortunate than I deserves the oxygen my brain requires to recall additional distressing statistics. In closing, the next time you engage in consumption of any variety, make sure to feel very, very bad about yourself.
--Nash Stillwater

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Poet's Korner

saab out my window.
it's green, like the tree whose shade
it claims as its own.

that bowl of chili
it is so like an aero
plane, beans and pilots.

mouse on my desk, its
tail lashed to my computing
box, it is my will.

-peter doe

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

My Friend Percy

It is our great pleasure today to welcome back to the Kreationist fold, young Percy Stankowski. Now, earlier this week you might have heard some rumblings about his nasty little mescaline habit. We here at the Korner are happy to report that Mr. Stankowski has managed to get his prized Krasnogorsk-3 out of hock while still maintaining his daily intake of mescaline. How did he do it? Through Tony Robbins' wisdom on the art of streamlining, of course. But, well, that's neither here nor there. What is, however, is Percy's newest piece, a revelation of image and sound. Observare.

Monday, May 4, 2009

Header Korner

Well, hello all! It's, uh, great to be back in business. It's been pretty hectic around here lately, lot of irons in the, umm, fire, adding some strings to the proverbial bow, you know, uh...
Okay, I'm gonna give it to you straight. As explained in our last few posts, things have not been going our way here at Korner Headquarters. Perhaps it was our ill-advised venture into the fruit roll-up/sleeping bag arena that led us astray. In hindsight, we were not meant for the business world. A lot of starry-eyed optimists looking to satisfy both the fruit-snack and camping-needs demographics of this fair and ugly country is all we ever were. So, needless to say, even as I state it for you to read, we're scrambling. In the true spirit of this Almighty Clusterfuck, I did what any enterprising head of a multi-national, envelope-pushing, alliteration-laden arts kollective would do -- I delegated. To my son, in fact. For an eight-year-old, he did an admirable job. So, without further adieu, I give you the latest piece of header art, kreated by Gabe Gabriel II The Bookmaker.
-Gabe Gabriel

Saturday, May 2, 2009

Cowboy Poet's Korner

As you may already be aware, The Kreation Korner has been stricken by hardship both economic and mental--so much so we had to hock Percy Stankowski's Krasnogorsk-3 for mescaline money. But we are confident these unfortunate tides will turn. In an unprecedented twist of kreation fate, The Korner has recently received not just a new kontributor but an entirely new genre as well. We are speaking of Steed Stetson--a luminary of the field of Cowboy Poetry. We are well aware that Cowboy Poetry is a subject of much kontention and kontroversy. But alas, we at The Korner aren't ones to pull punches. We're not going to deny our readers top-shelf kreation pay dirt to appease the un-informed, un-kreative hoi polloi. As a third-generation rangeland raconteur, Steed’s mastery of verse reflected on the page is accessible to nearly everyone, whether you are saddling up for the first time or are a lifelong cowboy poethead. Either way, set your insight receptors to "on" and witness a rebirth of The Kreation Kause. Gitty-up:

I’d ride into town off the range on ol’ Martin Horsese
He was getting on in years but he could still hold a trot, God bless’im
The blood-soaked sunset spilled onto otherwise untainted sagebrush
The doggies were asleep—I don’t know why we didn’t just call ‘em cows
Now it was time for me to partake of some well-deserved grub
Inga would burn me a thick one—steak and potatoes
With Clem playin’ contemporary ragtime hits on the Casio, I’d fall into a trance
I’d ask what planet I was on only to hear Dennis Redchukar say, “earth, dummy”
That would kill the buzz—I was paying him to be my sidekick, not to bust my balls
But no matter, I was the biggest pushover this side of hell and I’d be the first to admit it
Soon it would be daybreak and Mr. Sun would over-bake the doughy earth
I’d venture back onto the alkali purgatory, my tongue as scaly as the occasional snake
Even the devil himself would sell his soul for a canteen of cold whiskey
But at the end of the day it was a living and I’d’ve been damned if it weren’t worth it