The Wisdom of Age
As today is the 29th anniversary of my entrance upon the world stage, I thought it appropriate to share some of the insights that have occurred to me during the many ups and downs and unders and throughs of my ever-waning life. Therefore, W.U.L.A.D. presents for your edification and infotainment…

The Paradox of our Time
The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings, but shorter tempers; wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints.

We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values.

We have computers that can balance our checkbooks, but can't murder our enemies.

We have more productive crops, but not more productive craps.

We have Wrapped Up Like a Douche, but we don't have Wrapped Up Like a Family.

We can tune a piano, but we can't chicken salad.

We have movies like "All-Asian, All Anal," but not "All-Asian, All Kindness."

We have Wrapped Up Like a Douche, but we don't have Winona LaDuke.

We can go to the Moon and back, but we can't walk across the street to spy on our sunbathing neighbor.

We can take the boy out of the country, but we can't take the country out of the boy, except surgically.

We have more possessions, but fewer demonic possessions.

We have taken God out of our childrens' schools, but we can't keep Him out of their hearts, except with really good porn.

We have hi-speed internet connections, but we don't have hi-speed riding lawn-mowers. But man, if we did…

We think old people are soooo cute, except when they're racist.

We rush to buy the new Madonna album, but I saw an Echo & the Bunnymen CD on the floor of the bus today.

We're not gonna take it, no, we ain't gonna take it.

We have projectile vomiting, but we don’t have projectile happiness.

We have a payroll of $86 million, but we're in last place in the NL East.

We have six-foot Brazilian She-males, but we don't have six-foot Brazil nuts. Think of all the freakin' Brazil nut butter, though.

We have more smooth jazz stations, but fewer torture chambers.

We have the Sausage McMuffin with Egg, but we don't have the Sausage McMuffin with Bacon.

We have Wrapped Up Like a Douche, but we don't have Wrapped Up Like a Douche-bag.

It is a time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just search for a naked picture of Britney Spears, which is available here.

In honor of the anniversary of her nativity, W.U.L.A.D. proudly presents…

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Shan-bear
(Note: I had to remove the links to individual photos, but you can click here to see the entire series of 13. Just click on the arrow above each photo to see the next one.)

I
Among twenty snowy mountains
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the Shan-bear.

II
I was of three minds
Like a tree
In which there are three Shan-bears.

III
The Shan-bear whirled in the autumn wind
It was a small part of the pantomime.

IV
A man and a woman
Are one.
A man and a woman and a Shan-bear
Are one.

V
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflexions
Or the beauty of innuendos,
The Shan-bear whistling
Or just after.

VI
Icicles filled the window
With barbaric glass.
The shadow of the Shan-bear
Crossed it, to and fro.
The Mood
Traced in the shadow
An indecipherable cause.

VII
O thin men of Hyde Street,
Why do you imagine golden birds?
Do you not see how the Shan-bear
Walks around the feet
Of the women about you?

VIII
I know noble accents
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the Shan-bear is involved
In what I know.

IX
When the Shan-bear flew out of sight,
It marked the edge
Of one of many circles.

X
At the sight of Shan-bears
Flying in a green light
Even the bawds of euphony
Would cry out sharply.

XI
He rode over Polk St.Station
In a glass coach.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The shadow of his equipage
for Shan-bears.

XII
The river is moving.
The Shan-bear must be flying.

XII
It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
The Shan-bear sat
In the cedar limbs.

God Day at W.U.L.A.D.
This guy gives a lot of pro-God arguments before admitting that he left Atheism because he met a hot girl with a Bible.

These guys (who you remember from the Virgin Mary on the frozen window) chime in. (Elsewhere on the site you'll find interestingly biased takes on the Inquisition, Papal Infallibility, and other fun stuff.)

These philosopher dudes think they can kick your faith's ass.

Read this. Now read this. Now this. Now read this one. And now this. Got it?

In this interview, the Big Guy reveals that, among other things, he's big on clichés and platitudes, and loves scenic vistas 'n' shit.

He's also wondering "what part of NOT don't you understand?"

But it turns out He's actually got his own home page, so this is all moot.

And now, the moment you've all been waiting for…

Contest Results
The first semiannual W.U.L.A.D. contest is officially over, and what a dazzling array of creativity! I want to emphasize what a difficult decision the judges faced, and that, due to the overwhelming quality of responses, you should all consider yourselves winners. That said, here are the Official Results:

Receiving the prestigious Second Prize, we present the following staggering entry from… Mandrew!

If I were a frog and all and the frogs took over then I would be king. (Not to mention I get to carry around a bunch of males on my back with those enlarged throat sacks. They would all want my extra reproductive organs that resulted from exposure to the common pesticide, atrazine, banned by most European countries, and yet for some reason, not by the US ... hmmm. And since the American Dream pretty much states that bigger is better, and more is better, then with two or, better yet, three sets of reproductive organs I would be better. Hence, what I was saying—I would be king.)

Way to get political on our asses! For your efforts, you'll receive the Second Prize, which is… nothing! Better luck next time, Mandrew.

And now, earning the even more prestigious First Prize, we present the following entry, coming all the way from… Chocobaby!

If I were a frog and all and the frogs took over, I would make sure that Ian never missed the bus, which is coming in ten minutes, and if he misses it he'll be LATE!, but I wouldn't let him miss the bus, if I were a frog and the frogs took over.

Way to work in a personal reference! It's just this kind of variety and ingenuity that made this contest so special. C-Baby will receive a signed photo of G-Monsta in a compromising position. I'd give her the thong, but she'd never wear it.

Which brings us to the most prestigious prize of all, the Grand Prize, which goes to… Nobody! Because I only got two freakin' entries! I want all of you "loyal" readers who couldn't take time away from your "precious" jobs as emergency physicians, etc. to go sit in the corner, and think about what you did. I shall say no more on this subject.

A MESSAGE FROM YOUR REGIONAL ZOXON OVERLORD
GREETINGS EARTHLINGS. ON BEHALF OF THE SECTOR SUBCOMMAND, I EXTEND OUR WISHES THAT YOU AND YOUR SNIVELING UNDEREVOLVED HUMANOID FAMILIAL UNIT EXPERIENCE A PLEASURABLE DIURNAL CYCLE.

FIRSTLY, OLD BUSINESS—PLEASE REMEMBER TO REPORT IN ZOXON ALPHABETICAL ORDER ("§" COMES BEFORE "µ", PEOPLE!) FOR DAILY MEDICAL "ADJUSTMENT" AT YOUR ASSIGNED PROVINCIAL SUBSTATION. I EMPHASIZE AGAIN THAT WE EXPECT CHEERFUL COOPERATION WITH THESE NECESSARY AND MINIMALLY INVASIVE PROCEDURES. AND I MUST ADD THAT IT STIMULATES OUR HUMOR NODES WHEN YOU PROTEST YOU HAVE NEVER BEEN ANALLY PROBED BEFORE—YOUR SUB-PRIMATE MINDS ARE OBVIOUSLY UNABLE TO FATHOM THAT ZOXON CABLE CARRIES YOUR SHOWTIME NETWORK.

AS WE MENTIONED IN OUR EXECUTIVE DECREE OF 234.34.3.5545 FOLLOWING THE UNFORTUNATE UPRISING IN HOBOKEN OF THE EASTERN SECTOR, GATHERINGS OF 4 OR MORE HUMANS WILL NO LONGER BE PERMITTED, UNDER PENALTY OF SPECIES REASSIGNMENT. HOWEVER, IT HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO OUR ATTENTION BY ONE OF THE MANY DISGUISED ZOXON OPERATIVES LIVING AMONG YOU THAT A CUSTOMARY ANNUAL RITE OF CELEBRATION IS APPROACHING—IN A SHOW OF OUR UNDERAPPRECIATED GOODWILL TOWARD EVEN EARTHLINGS, THE LOWLIEST SERVANTS OF OUR EXALTED EMPEROR, HIS HOLINESS ALF VI (MAY ORGON BLESS HIS NAME) WE HAVE DECIDED TO FORGO ENFORCEMENT OF THIS RULE ON 2376.345.365 (THURSDAY, JULY 24 OF YOUR PRIMITIVE SOLAR CALENDAR) FOR THE COMMEMORATION OF THE "BIRTHDAY" OF HUMANOID 2187G-76T, KNOWN TO YOU AS "IAN ______."

PLEASE REPORT TO THE BAMBOO HUT (479 BROADWAY AT KEARNY OF THE SAN FRANCISCO REGIONAL FIEFDOM) AT APPROXIMATELY 8 PM ON THE AFOREMENTIONED DATE TO COMMENCE APPROPRIATE FESTIVITIES. [FOR THOSE HUMANS WISHING TO BEGIN EARLIER, THE PRE-FESTIVITIES WILL TAKE PLACE AT SPECS, 12 SAROYAN PLACE (COLUMBUS AT BROADWAY), FROM THE COMPLETION OF YOUR DAILY WORK CAMP SCHEDULE UNTIL THE OPENING OF THE BAMBOO HUT.] ALLOW 5 OF YOUR MINUTES FOR BODY CAVITY SEARCH.

WE ARE TOLD THAT LOCAL CUSTOMS DICTATE THE INTAKE OF FERMENTED LIQUIDS LEADING TO HUMOROUS DISPLAYS OF AFFECTION, BATTLES FOR CLAN LEADERSHIP AND MATING RITUALS. THOSE DIRT-DWELLING HOMINIDS WHOSE APE-LIKE ANTICS STIMULATE AN EXCEPTIONAL NUMBER OF OUR NODES MAY BE SELECTED TO APPEAR IN THE NEW HOLODISC "EARTHLINGS GONE WILD! VOL. ±¥«.", NARRATED BY ZOXON MINISTER OF ENTERTAINMENT JOHN-XARXQON TRAVOLTA.

FOR MORE INFORMATION CONTACT YOUR LOCAL HUMAN PACIFICATION COUNCIL AT THIS PRIMITIVE ELECTRONIC MAIL ADDRESS.

THAT IS ALL. LONG LIVE THE EMPEROR, OUR BENEVOLENT PROTECTOR! OBEDIENCE IS STRENGTH!