>>> The Scholarly Tabloid
By staff writer Et Nola
October 8, 2006

“For Kids Ages 7 and Up”

When it happens, the setting doesn’t matter. All that matters is that everything is going great. You both feel like you share a lot in common. Maybe the last joke you made absolutely killed. Maybe someone other than you laughed. Even your best buddy Trent noticed you and her earlier, and all he could say was, “You’re money.” Things are looking good until—wait, what did you just say?

Suddenly, you begin traveling through another dimension—a dimension not capable of touch or intimacy but filled with the complete lack thereof. A journey into a most treacherous land whose boundaries are clearly drawn and leave no room for imagination. That’s a signpost up ahead: “Your next stop: The Platonic Zone.”

See, there’s a moment between two people when something is said or done that simply changes the very dynamic of their discussion and their relationship. Sometimes this is stepping the level from something casual to something more intimate. Yeah, I’m not talking about that. In fact, let’s call that the “ideal.” I’m talking about what happens when things go wrong, particularly for guys. It’s the part where what you want from this other person becomes, in fact, the furthest distance anything has ever been from anyone.

“If a guy realizes he's been had, he deserves a clean break. Shoot for the stars and land amongst the vaginas.”

Oddly, the moment after it happens, it’s as if you can feel all hope of something better happening. Some guys react physically. Bodies convulse as the wave of hopelessness passes directly from their crotch to a region often somewhere close to their crotch. It’s like telling a soldier that the war is over before it even begins, particularly if that soldier enjoys shooting people. There’s just a moment when a guy realizes his romantic (read: sexual) opportunities have been severely limited and that’s not even the worst part of that moment.

See, what’s bad is that the cognitive faculties in this man’s brain have been neutralized. He is about to suffer the delusion that his relationship is going to lead to something. In fact, he begins to equate “working harder at a friendship” to “getting closer to getting laid.” Every time it happens, all men die a little inside.

If you’re a lady reading this, or even a slut for that matter, you’re probably aware of a “buddy” and/or “pal” who fell penis-first into the Platonic Zone. This would be a great place for me to recommend something, or scold you for “leading them into it.”

Nope. No time for that. Instead, how about a truce? If a guy realizes he’s been had, whether by self-delusion or because of a shiny vagina, he deserves to make a clean break without being guilt-stricken for “abandoning the friendship.” Let’s just be adults and see that it wasn’t what was intended in the first place. “Shoot for the stars and land amongst the vaginas”…or something like that. You both get your freedom and the world is a little bit more honest. It’s like campfires and friendship bracelets all over again.


The Gospel According to Google
(Since this edition is running long, I’ll only toss out the top two stories that caught my eye)

16-Year-Old Star of Upcoming Nativity Film Gets Pregnant; God Swears It’s Not His

There’s little I can say about this one except… have you seen the website for this film? It talks about all the research done on the era and the authenticity brought into the film-making. Well, I say kudos to their lead actress. She takes her pregnancies seriously. Nope. No more conception jokes. I’m sure someone else will flood the airwaves and papers with them, especially after…

Media and Congress Continue Probe of Pages, Beginning With Whoever Probed Them First

This Rep. Foley scandal is proof that we’ve really got the greatest Congress ever to dislodge their thumbs from their sphincters. I simply can’t decide whether I’m more pissed that this is news that should have broken months ago or that both parties are feeding the media machine that should be reporting on the lack of issues being addressed this coming midterm.


Southern Discomfort

Years ago I fell out of watching Saturday Night Live. Between having something better to do on Saturday night and performing shock treatment on my genitals, I figured I had options. While I wasn’t watching, numerous talented writers left the show as well as cast members like Will Ferrell. Maybe they caught word of what I was doing and chose to spend their time drinking too. If only the current cast would take a similar cue.

It’s not that the current SNL cast is lacking funny. To be fair, Darrel Hammond had some good days. Apparently, he also suffered a frontal lobotomy. As far as the rest of the cast, well, thanks for the laughs. I mean, when I heard the kid from All That was on the show, I dropped everything. In fact, I’m sure there was a cease-fire in Israel so that all could rejoice in the co-star of “Good Burger” joining an institution of television comedy. I suspect the amount of pot smoked by Lorne Michaels and his casting director could have tranquilized every person who attended Woodstock and all their low-sperm-count carrying children. Don’t fret, Keenan. When it comes to failing at funny, you’re in great company. If this show sucked any more, it’d charge $50 and offer viewers a hand-job as an encore.

Despite my ire, I recently hit the DVR and recorded an episode while I was out. Why? Because even if you wince from the horror, you can’t look away from someone taking a shit on something you loved. Sure, you could try to stop them, but what are you going to do? It’s like having snakes on a plane, man. Thanks again, Keenan. Stellar work. I mean, I can’t be mad at you for long. You’re black and we’ve got to stick together or some other cliché. In fact, I think I’ll sit down and view the show from a different angle. Maybe I’ll scoop out my eyes while I’m at it.

A Note to Readers: Yes, last week’s column was filler. You can stop asking now. Of course, now that the character exists, you can be sure Sir Pipe-Layre will be around for cameos in the future. Though I’ll admit the number of you who preferred the recent standard layout was just special.

See new PIC posts via Twitter or Facebook.

Sign up for satire writing or improv classes at The Second City - 10% off with code PIC.