Monthly Archives March 2001

On Spying

Posted on March 7, 2001 by Porter Mason

I often assume a lot of people in the world are actually top-secret spies. For example, I’ll be on a subway, and some guy will cough twice. I then immediately assume he may be a super-secret spy. I assume he thinks I too am a super-secret spy, and I further assume he is trying to pass me information using super-secret spy code.

So, usually, I try to signal back. I’ll cough three times in the same manner, or I’ll touch my ear twice, or I’ll blink very noticeably, and then I wait for a reaction. You may ask: “Do you ever get a reaction ever, ever, ever, EVER?” I would answer: “Yes.” From these reactions, I have figured out a few things.

  1. Few people ever respond to my codes with anything possibly resembling a coded return message.
  2. Most people seem to think I’m just sick and that I cough a lot, and could give a flying rat’s patootie how rhythmically I do so.
  3. All people, be they spies or non-spies, don’t seem to care for the blinking thing. (Or is their anger at my blinking simply the correct next super-secret spy response? See? Isn’t my neurosis interesting?)

My conclusions? Either very few people are actually super-secret spies. Or… they’re extremely good at their job, and I have not devoted enough time to figuring them out. I, of course, believe the latter.

Now, I’d like to tell you what I’m writing here is fiction or some mind-blowingly hilarious hypothetical situation I cooked up, but sadly, this is far from mind-blowingly hilarious (it’s knee-slappingly jocular at best) and it’s far from hypothetical. These thoughts actually enter into my tiny, unhealthy brain. All it takes is a guy who sneezes too rhythmically, or a girl who taps out a prime number sequence with her foot. You may ask: “How do you notice these things?” I would answer: “I have nothing better to do with my time.”

See, life is a lot more exciting if everybody might be a spy. You didn’t just nod to the woman in front of you at Starbucks; you unwittingly entered a deadly world of international espionage, and you barely escaped with your latte. You didn’t just rub your eye because it itched; you gave the go ahead for an elite group of guerilla fighters to take out Brazil’s puppet regime. The great thing is, you don’t even have to know anything about espionage! Or even world issues! Like right there, I have no idea if Brazil actually has a puppet regime. Hell, they may not even have a government down there, for all I know. It doesn’t matter! All you have to master is the ability to give and receive ordinary offhand movements as important spy signals.

I also use this technique to interpret body language in women. For example, if a woman I’m trying to make eye contact with looks at me, but then looks up, she’s not interested. Now, if she looks at me, and then looks left, she’s interested, but just got out of a bad relationship and can’t get into anything right now. If she looks right, she’s a lesbian, and if she looks down, she’s a lesbian. See how that works? I create rules in my head that the women don’t know about, and I use them to interpret how the women think! It diffuses any chance I have at meeting anyone!! It’s great!! Without all those cumbersome “relationships”, I have more time to devote to figuring out super-secret spy code.

So, join me. Next time you’re on a bus, sneeze four times. Next time you’re waiting in line for a movie, yawn every twenty seconds. When walking anywhere, always carry a newspaper under your left arm. Only cross the street with your hands in fists. You may say: “But no one will possibly notice these things, except maybe you, Porter, and you’re obviously insane, and I don’t want to attract your attention for fear you might kill me, or worse yet, begin a conversing with me.” I would answer: “Correct response, Agent Y-612. I see Mother Russia has taught you well… (cough)… (cough).”

Porter

On Making Your Own Parade

Posted on March 17, 2001 by Porter Mason

Parades are great, aren’t they? I mean, nothin’ says “America” to me like a parade. Nothin’. Except maybe a big bald eagle. Draped in an American flag. Flying over the White House. Carrying the statue of Liberty. Eating a hot dog. Playing baseball. Watching a Pauly Shore movie. That really says America. That sort of screams “America.” It sort of drunkenly screams “America.” It sort of gets belligerently drunk, screams “America,” and then picks a fight with a street vendor.

So, anyway, parades. You know I love ‘em. Now, I know what you’re thinking (because I am a telepath): “Porter, can I have my own parade? Please?!?!” Sure, l’il feller!! Anyone can have their own parade! It’s just takes the three P’s of parades: planning, perseverance, and money to bribe local government officials. (That last one, while containing no P’s, is very important, so we let it slide on the P thing.)

Planning. When planning a parade, you’ve got to plan to plan ahead. Way ahead. In fact, the 1957 Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade was planned in 1459, long before Macy’s, Thanksgiving, or America even existed! Now, with today’s modern technology (and here I am referring to such things as LASERs, supercomputers, and inflated stock prices), you won’t need 500+ years to plan your parade. You’ll only need two to three weeks! If you play your cards right. So, step one: get cards. Step two: play them right. And you’re done!

Perseverance. A parade requires perseverance on the behalf of its founder. Why? Well, a lot of people will say your parade is stupid. They’ll say, “You shouldn’t have a parade.” That “it’s a waste of time.” That “you’re wasting valuable confetti.” They’ll say, “I will make it my life’s goal to prevent you from putting on this parade, you sick, sick bastard!” It takes perseverance to deal with this. You may think this perseverance helps you to push on and create this parade despite their unkind words. You are wrong. What you must do is: every time someone disparages your parade, you must beat them. You must beat them to a bloodied pulp until they can no longer stand or speak. Now, depending on how stupid your parade actually is, there could be a lot of people you have to beat, and this sort of widespread, ruthless violence takes extreme perseverance. So, get out there and start swingin’!

Money To Bribe Local Government Officials. A lot of times, when you want to shut down roads, pour lots of little pieces of paper all over the place, and wear big funny hats and costumes, people called “local government officials” will want to stop you. They’ll say, “You can’t shut down these roads without a permit!” and “You’re not allowed to just stop all commerce on this street without a permit!” and “You’re not permitted to set fire to these buildings without a permit! I doubt you can even do it with a permit! Maybe if it’s a really, really lenient permit!” Yes, sadly, you’ll hear this sort of claptrap all the time, and what’s worse, you can’t just beat these people up (see Perseverance) because if you take one out, there’ll be another one to take his/her place. You beat up the mayor, there’ll be some deputy mayor. You beat up the comptroller, there’ll be some deputy comptroller. You beat up the chief of police, he’ll shoot you. So, you see, you need to take a different approach with these people. They speak a different language. What’s their language? Money. So what you do is, you go up to one of them, and you speak their language. You say, “Hey there, Mr. Mayor, money money money money money. Money money money, money. Money money money – money.” And then hand him some money.

So get out there, brave readers, and have your own damn parade. As you can see, it’s no walk in the park to do so (unless your parade does in fact go through a park), but it’s well worth all the effort, money, and beatings. And when it’s all over, when the confetti’s thrown, the grand marshall’s left, and the high school bands are in the bushes making out with each other, there’ll be a moment, ever-so-brief, where all is quiet, and you can look around and really appreciate what you’ve done. And then someone next to you will pat you on the back, break the silence, and say, “Hey, man. This was a really crappy parade.” And then you’ll beat him to within an inch of his life. And you’ll know that it’s time to start the whole crazy process over again for next year. Good luck, and happy paradin’!

Porter

On the Backs of Cereal Boxes

Posted on March 18, 2001 by Porter Mason

Some things don’t translate well to TV. Like the backs of cereal boxes. Look, how many hours have you spent in your “life” reading the backs, sides, and bottoms of cereal boxes. When I was small, this was like my freakin’ New York Times in the morning, you know?

The great thing was, unlike the New York Times, I didn’t get a new one every morning, I would read the same cereal box over and over for however long there was still cereal in it. As such, it was a gift to keep interested in reading the same brightly colored advertisements, recipes, and contest announcements over and over each day. You had to pace yourself.

“I’ll read half of this hard-hitting piece about how to make Rice Krispie fondue this morning, and maybe browse the headlines over in the ‘Win A Lifetime Supply Of Pop Tarts’ section…”

That actually also puzzled me: Why advertise for Pop Tarts on a cereal box? I realize they may all be made by the same company, but you’re tempting me away from a lifetime dedication to your crappy product. I mean, as I got to be about age seven, there was nothing tangible holding me to my brand allegiance of Cap’n Crunch. They just had me on momentum. You dangle that Pop Tart in front of me too much, I might just switch. The Pop Tart is, after all, more elegant, more grown-up, more chic. (I actually believed this for a while when I was young, and a few years later, I declared that the only product refined enough for my sophisticated 10-year-old tastes was the flaky and delictable Toaster Strudel… later I rebuffed “breakfast pastry” as too bourgeois and returned to my roots.)

I’m tellin’ ya, if you really wanted to hook people into a periodical from an early age, you should start a kid-centered newspapers, and plaster it on the backs of cereal boxes.

“Hmm, the American Toy Maker’s union doesn’t support the Bush tax plan…oh! Willy Wonka’s up three points!”

And you could put this on any cereal boxes. Because after I pored over my entire box, I’d move on to my parent’s cereal. I could write a Ph.D. thesis on the benefits of Special K as a part of balanced diet. And the FDA Recommended Daily Allowances? Know ‘em like the back of my hand. It’s impressive how steadfastly I’ve gone on to ignore all this nutritional information despite knowing it so well.

Anyway, my actual point was: If all this cereal box reading was so damn entertaining, how come it’s never been fully recognized and adapted to another medium? How come there’re no reality shows based on helping Count Chocula through a giant maze to find his cape? How come there aren’t any Aaron Sorkin hour-long dramedies about monosodium glutamate and yellow dye #5? And why doesn’t the WB have some sort of Trix Rabbit vehicle?!

Probably because the networks don’t wanna burn their hands. Yeah, if there’s any idea that’s just too hot, it’s cold, cold cereal boxes. Well, wake up, America. Call your local affiliates and demand the programming you long for. Me, well, I’m busy at the moment, I’m doing some freelance work for Post. It’s a smart little humor piece about Fruit Loops wherein the toucan gets arrested for making Loops too flavoricious. It’s a little edgy, but I know kids will read it. They have no choice; what’re they gonna do: talk to their families at breakfast? Yeah. Right.

Porter