“The Afterlife” by Brother Amoeba

The New Church of Dim does not believe in a “soul” for humans (except, perhaps, in a metaphorical sense, in which case “selling your soul” would mean “doing something REALLY shitty.”) The New C.o.D. does, however, believe in a literal, physical afterlife—for which we are now selling tickets!

Extremely fancy “box seats” for the event are still available. Credit and debit cards accepted. No limit on the number of tickets that you can buy at a time. Make sure to get enough for your whole family! Don’t want Grandma Mabel or Uncle Owen sitting outside The Afterlife when the party gets started!

The END is coming soon, and what happens AFTER the end is going to be quite a show. Don’t miss it! Buy those tickets TODAY (before it’s too late!)

—Brother Amoeba

P.S. – No refunds.

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“The End!!!” by Mr. Smog Monster

[This article is being cross-posted on both this blog and The Primitive Entertainment Workshop, as it pertains to the The Two Ricks Podcast, but was originally posted as the closing chapter of the third “era” of the P.E.W. It’s an angry bit, I supposed, but it affects all of us, human and microscopic organism alike.]

The curtain closes on Era 3 of the Primitive Entertainment Workshop. As the helicopters fly, bombs drop, explosions bloom sending dirt and body parts flying in all directions, and “The End” by The Doors drifts menacingly through the atmosphere, we say “Later Skater” to the third era of the P.E.W.

We’ve had some good times and we’ve had some seriously shitty times in this slice of history, but I can’t complain…

Actually, I can complain, and I’m going to! Because of personal politics, back-biting, and a couple of tragic cases of B.D.S., my co-worker and I have become the targets of a misguided attack. We were informed from “ON-HIGH” that the humorous podcast (you know the one) that we’ve produced during the downtime at our job was a gross misuse of time and equipment. After careful reflection (and some serious imaginary discussion with Mother Amoeba) I’ve come to this conclusion: FUCK THEM!

The idea that producing a creative work, which is humorous as well as thought provoking, is in any sense an inappropriate activity AT A UNIVERSITY is so full of shit that it could fertilize the Sahara desert for decades.

Our work is EXACTLY the type of thing that should come out of a university, and the fact is that we are being reprimanded when we are breaking NO RULES (as they are clearly outlined in WAC 292-110-010, the statutes that regulate what state employees can and can’t do on the job—specifically the “de minimis use” sections,) which just proves that we have come under attack for petty, personal reasons having to do with some ancient squabble that I know nothing about. Makes me fucking sick.

And, unless I’m mistaken, it violates my rights to free speech and freedom to believe whatever the fuck I want (and yes, that is granted in the Constitution, although who knows for how much longer that will be true.) If my wife and my boss wouldn’t hate me for standing up for my rights, probably losing my job, possibly costing several other people theirs, and dropping us even further into debt with the legal and court fees, I’d sue the shit out of ‘um.

Moral of the story: Academics sucks. It’s not about gathering and sharing knowledge or some noble (but nebulous) quest for “TRUTH;” it’s all about personal politics, self-aggrandizement, and getting paid. Fuck academics. And have a nice day!

—Mr. Smog Monster

P.S.: Let’s hope The Fourth Era is more god-damned fun! Party on…