Thursday, September 30, 2010

Kommentary Korner

Where would we be without dissenting voices? If you ask Peter Doe, we’d be observing a government-mandated curfew somewhere in Red China. But such konjecture is kounterproductive. The fact is, we at The Korner don’t know all the answers. We know most of them, but not all. To think we are perfect would be the height of arrogance and would kompromise our kreative kredibility. As the old saying goes, “humility is the mother of invention.” To that end, here’s some konstructive kriticism from our own Nash Stillwater. Konsider:

Not to sound like a suck-up, but our benefactor Chas Murdoch is right to raise an eyebrow at our prodigious use of elicit substances. I know the prevailing stance of TKK is that said substances are necessary, nay required, for the kreative process to occur. Those more radical among us would go as far to fancy themselves as shamans, selflessly losing themselves in the embrace of hallucinogenic oblivion so as to lead their fellow man to higher states of kreative konsciousness. But what nobody seems to consider are the negative effects of our excess. Remember the time a mescaline-addled Stankowski thought Snappy Tom’s derringer was his inhaler? Thank Odin it wasn’t loaded! Or the time GRECH had an acid flashback whilst performing an emergency tracheotomy on maljohn? And let’s not forget the countless gastric algal blooms we’ve all suffered as a result of those fertilizer confections we ingest regularly in the name of Kreation. What I’m getting at here is that we can be just as kreative without the copious use of mind-altering chemicals. I’ve been on the wagon for three weeks now, and I tell you, it’s a trip! The other day I saw a sunset. A real sunset. Not just the paisley hippo undulating in the sky I’ve become so accustomed to seeing. And you know what--I got the same kreative jolt out of it as I would’ve from four short-stacks of phosphate-laced flapjacks. To conclude, I just want to encourage us all to put aside the psilocybin mushroom and take up the shiitake of unaided sensory experience. Our physical health, well-being and--most importantly--our kreativity depend on it.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Lately, The Korner has been inundated with korrespondences in every imaginable format. Our mailboxes are full--both electronic and snail, our pigeon holes are bottlenecked and the telegraph machine literally blew up. What does everyone want to know (other than what Howard Fork smells like)? They want to see the face of the workaday life of professional Kreationists. For our loyal followers who live in parts afar, we've learned that it's difficult for them to visualize and relate to the kreative life here in Boise's Little Novgorod district. Try as we might to push the limits of written language, one thousand words isn't worth a picture. As such, we bring you today the first in what we hope will be a series of photo essays vividly illustrating the places we live and work in the ongoing effort to deliver our brand of kutting edge Kreationistic kontent. Feast your eyes:

This image is of the now infamous Kreation Korner HQ. Akwired in late 2007, the HQ has served as the nerve center of the Kreationism movement ever since and is a class B office space. Although many of our kreative kapacities of have relocated to the kommune, the HQ retains all administrative functions.

Home sweet home! This handsome structure is the new kommune that has been causing quite the stir amongst our readers as of late. Since settling the property in July, we've been attaining new benchmarks in kreativity daily. Think of it as a barracks for soldiers in the Kreation Kause.

Here's an extra treat. This is Union Credit, the credit union where The Korner does virtually all of its banking. UC's responsive, down-to-earth staff belies the mysteriousness of the building's outlandish design. It is the only structure of its kind on General Westmoreland Blvd and one of very few planet-wide.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Komedy Korner

The old "Donkey in a Top Hat" bit as told by Svetlana Mendoza, Part VIII:

The two arrived at the eatery, and seated themselves as was the policy
They sat for a whole 20 minutes before the server took their order
This severely limited their eating time as the lunch break was nearly over

To Be Kontinued...

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Letting The Days Go By...

It's been three earth years since The Kreation Kause first voyaged into the uncharted waters of the world wide web. That's over 94 million seconds ago! But enough algebra. The fact is, we've exceeded even our own wildest expectations--though some would suggest otherwise. Time and time again, The Kreation Korner has found itself teetering on the abyss of kultural konsciousness. Critics say, "does Kreationism matter? Is it relevant?" Some seem to think we've gone the way of the salad shooter. Well then let this third anniversary prove otherwise! In the next year to come, The Korner will prove that the world needs Kreationism now more than ever. The problems plaguing this planet have only gotten worse: the hungry have become hungrier, the disillusioned have become more so and pop music award shows continue to suck. We here at TKK are ready to reverse this disturbing trend with a blowing of the mind, body and soul the likes of which mankind has never witnessed before. To prove we're not bluffing, here's a frontal assault by none other than Chris Peebles:

"The Four Elements, Part Two"

drip, drip, drip

My faucet's broke.
My facets choke
my throat.
The varied elements
of my life conspire
to evoke unseemly

drip, drip, drip

Who cares what
life is?
I sure don't.
The plumber who nailed
me to this floor
was only doing his job.
The unpopular approach
is also necessary.

drip, drip, drip

His forlorn face said it
all, he was fettered by
his past.
No redemption.
Move on with previous mis-
deeds as a constant reminder
to improve one's self and
seek better tomorrows.

drip, drap, drep, drop, drup
and, on occasion, dryp

Saturday, September 4, 2010

Poet's Korner

"Contemplations on Pink Man"
You great pink bastard.
Why do you mock me so?
You are there to bring me down,
Flitting about like a wad of overripe bubble gum.
Get out of my life, I say!
Quit the flitting, or I shall quit thee of thy life!
Do you understand now the stakes, man?
You are the wind beneath my wings?
You are the gum beneath my shoes.

-Boo Merengue