Whoomp There It Is!

Hello, all! In spite of our economic woes, we must continue! Special thanks go out to Hank Shelton for keeping this ship afloat in what seemed like the last hour. He has since been inducted as an honorary Kreationist.

But enough catch-up, here's the straight mustard. Submitted anonymously, this strident short story had all the markings of an original beatnik kreation. Resident counter-culture expert Tonny Ergheim's in-depth analysis of structure and syntax nearly confirmed it, but not before a nineteen-year-old Korner intern identified certain clues within the text that pointed to a later publication date. Regardless, these subtle hints are mere icing on this harsh, facts-of-life cake.

the mu zik flowed out his insterment like creame cheez on a litely toasted bagel he was a site to behold. changed the way the hole gang
thot.
the mob men were in town n causing ruukus all about well 1 nite thay happend upon old good davey. they say to him play us that what we luv so-well. play us that chumba
wumba. well davey about had a con-ipshun. he waled away at marcy playground insted. the boiz got to push-ing and fuss-ing so davey
changed his tune wunce more this time he layed down some 4 nonblondes.
chumbawumba they hollerd.
semisonic he playd. so
the mob
killed
hi
m.

Hi, this is Hank Shelton. I don't pretend to know what this "kreation korner" is. I don't even think it's spelled right, but that's beside the point. I recently found a cassette tape washed up in a storm drain near my house. Curiosity being one of my best qualities, I decided to have a listen and what I heard sounded pretty dire. Again, I AM IN NO WAY affiliated with the kreation korner, but I felt the need to warn whoever it is that this webpage pertains to anyway. Here is the message, as best I can understand it:

"Uh, folks, Nate Rhombus(?) here. We're real sorry about the current state of things, and we've tried to keep quiet in order to appease the investors, but, well, we seem to have run clean out of kreativity(?). Maybe all that brown acid we took a week or so back in a botched attempt at a group vision quest has finally taken its toll. Maybe the blame lies with the market -- most of us have had to sell our possessions and have now taken up residence in a lean-to out back of the Kreation Headquarters. Peter Doe refuses to join us. He's cooped up in his Buick LeSabre, but it's a convertible, so I don't really know how he plans to keep dry. Umm, what was I talking about? Oh yeah. Whatever the reason for our current predicament, it is indeed a sad state of affairs around the HQ of late. Many of us, ghosts of our former kreative selves, simply sit at the group television and laugh emptily at whatever programming the Weather Channel offers. Until further notice, just, uh, do, ummm, whatever I guess. Yeah. We'll figure something out."

Fountain of Youth

Today it is our great pleasure to bring to you, our devoted Kreationists, a glimpse into the mysterious past of one of the greatest Kreators known to man, woman, or in-between. Yes, ladies and gentlemen. We have unearthed early footage of a young Chris Peebles, which through extensive karbon dating is believed to be exactly two years, 235 days, and six hours old. It is not hard to see the nucleus of what would soon become legendary and unbounded kreation in these videos. Imbibe:

Fiction Korner

Breakfast is delicious. I take my eggs with a virgin screwdriver. A savory confection of cooked wheat flour and baker's yeast provides the perfect spreading surface for churned cow's milk.
I had just sat down to consume the aforementioned morning vittles when Frank arrived. I stared in shock, viscous maple tree sap dribbling down my chin, as he effortlessly did a backflip through the gaping hole in my exterior wall. How ironic. That was the day I was going to patch-up that hole. I had never intended it to function as a means of entry into my home for a person I really didn't like.
I never saw Frank the same way ever since he killed my father. Now he was in my house, one of seven places where I truly feel safe. All I could do was continue kneeling in my chair as he callously ate my pan-fried swine meat.
After 16 minutes I could no longer take it.
"Get out of here Frank!" I bellowed.
"Nine!" he replied defiantly. "It's a German number that also means 'no'"
Killing my father was one thing, but questioning my knowledge of the German language was quite another. Frank had gone too far. So I called the local law enforcement authority and had him arrested.

--Jawn Steighmeaus

Komedy Korner

Here's the latest erudite jest from Svetlana Mendoza. If you merely pass it off as crude and low-brow, the Korner extends you our deepest sympathies. Absorb:

Q: What do you call an erection at a funeral?

A: Mourning wood.

International Korner

We at the Korner are constantly on the look-out for new and earth-shattering kreations, but until this point it seems we've been stuck in the first-world power player known as the United States of America. Have we forgotten about the rest of the world? Regrettably, yes. But that is about to change on this day. Our field reporter Steev Josh has unearthed a fragmented verse of what he has deduced is part of an ancient Bangladeshi folk song. The words are startling and clear. Get a load of this!

I close the eye
A single moment gone only for a moment
Slipping away
The instant all that my dream gives to the before in curiosity

Paying dust in wind
We are all that is the dust in wind

Now do not hang
No things lasts for ever not, but the grounds and the heaven
It escapes
And your money all of it will not purchase a minute

Shake the powder in the wind
All that we are is powders in the winds

Kommentary Korner

Greetings, fellow Kreationists. Long-time reader, first-time kontributor. Having plumbed the depths of the Korner, I find little to disagree with. Except, that is, when it comes to a crotchedy old fool by the name of Peter Doe, whose ill-conceived thoughts on the cinematic classic "Back To The Future" were not appreciated by yours truly. So, in the interest of fairness, I offer to you my own thoughts on the matter. First off, "Back To The Future" is easily the best time-travel-action-adventure film of 1985. It is also, in your humble writer's opinion, the apex of Zemeckis-directed, Spielberg-produced cinema revolving around a DeLorean. Believe me when I tell you, that is a tough category to judge, with many worthy contenders. So what about the performances? The acting is, in a word, stellar; never has the combination of Michael J. Fox, Christopher Lloyd, Lea Thompson, Crispin Glover, and Thomas F. Wilson been so potent. The time-tested storyline of "boy travels back in time, boy interferes with his parents' meeting, boy must save his own existence" has never been quite so poignant as in this true masterpiece. And I must say that in all my years of movie watching, I have never so enjoyed a 1950s-styled chase scene involving a skateboard and a manure truck as when I viewed "Back To The Future" for the first time. Luckily, as with a fine wine, this modern classic only gets better with age. It's almost sad that a prude like Peter Doe must show his superiority through round criticism of another's work. That is certainly nothing I would ever do, and I hope that one day his square mind can appreciate "Back to the Future" for the gem it really is.

-Nash Stillwater