From Recent Travels: This Market is teh 1337

An Expert's Take on MySpace.com

I hate MySpace. It’s stupid. Besides, what the fuck would a misanthrope want with a social networking site, anyway? At first I was just going to rant about how MySpace is nothing but a place for fat chicks with deceptively slimming high-angle photos to pick up internet boyfriends; a place for old perverts to prey on stupid preteens who believe every online profile they read; and a place where foreigners can meet American women desperate to get married, i.e., their ticket to American citizenship. But then I started thinking about how much productivity suffered at the magazine where I worked because all of the ditzy ad sales girls spent their entire working day fucking around on MySpace.

If MySpace could cripple a business in such a way, perhaps it isn’t just an innocent place for people to make friends/keep track of friends online. Perhaps it’s something more evil, more insidious. Whenever I have these kinds of paranoid thoughts, I start looking shit up on the internet—modern scholarly research, if you will. At any rate, I discovered quite a bit of information that blew my mind. Most of this enlightening information came from one source: a self-proclaimed genius and ancient civilizations/end of the world expert named Thadius H. J. Bandercatchum (AIM handle, XxCommander6669xX).

Since he knows more than I ever hope to know on the subject of MySpace (and something called “tentacle porn” that he offered to sell me a box of), I asked him to write a post for this blog, summarizing the major discoveries he’s made. So, anyone still reading this crap, please enjoy having your entire perception of reality altered by this great man.

Cordially,

Morbid Misanthrope

MySpace: Destroyer of Worlds
By Thadius H. J. Bandercatchum

In order for what I’m about to tell to make sense, I suggest all you plebeians just accept my immense genius and try to wrap your pin-shaped heads around the gobbets of information I’m going to drop before you. Judging by the intellect of Morbid Misanthrope (oh, how clever, alliteration—what a twat), you, his devoted readers, must be incredibly stupid. Who else but complete fools would consistently give a shit what someone calling himself Morbid Misanthrope has to say. That idiot writes like a 45-year-old ex-junkie working his way through Hooked on Phonics for the seventh or eighth time. That’s neither here nor there, however, because no matter how below me an audience is, it is an audience nonetheless. My message is what matters, so I don’t mind casting pearls before swine occasionally.

Before I “learn y’all something,” I think I’ll tell you a little about myself. The only thing equal to my genius is my awesomeness and ability to get hot ladies constantly. I’m so cool that I say things like, “My name’s Thadius, Thadius Bandercatchum. You’ve got big hooters. Now go over there and make out with that sexy nurse” and it actually works. I’m so pimp, as the kids like to say, that I’ve had sex with over 300 lesbians—the pretty ones, not those manly dyker bikers with plastic wieners sewn on. In fact, I once had three-hour-long sex with six lesbians on the back of a Harley Davidson while changing the bike's oil and rebuilding the engine. One super-hot lesbian actually called my boner “Thad’s third arm” because it’s got reach.

Anyway, aside from my poon-pounding prowess, I’m also a genius. I make over $200,000 a year just for being so goddamned smart. I don't even use my genius as a full-time job. I only freelance. Yes, I’m really that smart. So pay attention to what I have to say. I’m going to make this painfully quick so none of your heads explode.

Point 1: The End of the World Hexagram in the I Ching
There’s no way any of you can possibly comprehend the complexities of the I Ching, so allow me to just say this: The Hexagram in the I Ching that represents the end of the world can be translated to—if you also include its inner trigram—“ Mai Sczpace.”

Point 2: The Mayans and Their End of the World Predictions
These are the simple facts: The Mayans were very, very smart (even though their skin was a funny color and they didn’t speak proper English). Unfortunately for them, they were shit when it came to surviving, and they were all destroyed by Spaniards that came to the Americas by accident on their way to find the famous Chinese Opium Trade. However, before they were wiped out by lisping Europeans with silly pants and single-shot rifles, they managed to predict the end of the world. I’ll spare you their methods. For the sake of your fragile minds, we’ll just say they used magic.

According to their calendar, the end of the world will occur in December 2012. Pictured below is the Mayan Calendar Stone (sometimes called the Aztec Sun Stone—the Mayans stole it from the Aztecs as a revenge prank after some Aztec warriors greased the stairs of one of the Mayan pyramids and made a bunch of the human sacrifices fall down in a comical fashion). At the very top of the stone, where 12:00 would be on a clock, is a symbol that represents the end of the world. Look at the symbol the Mayans used to represent the destruction of the planet. If that’s not the Myspace logo, then I never banged Scarlett Johansson (I did bang Scarlett Johansson, by the way).

Point 3: Plato’s Pre-Atlantis Utopia
I have to assume that all of you have heard of Plato. If not Plato, surely you’ve all heard of his famous story about Atlantis. Disney made a cartoon movie about it, which I’m sure most of you have seen.

I have discovered a little-known story written by Plato that predates his Atlantis story by over three weeks. I shouldn’t have to tell you how significant this story is (although I’m sure some of you will miss out on its relevance entirely). Here is a copy of Plato’s pre-Atlantis story:

There once was a brilliant society, with technology like no other society on Zeus' flat earth. This society was called Mu-Nod, and was the envy of every other city on earth. While other societies reveled in goat sex and naked male-on-male wrestling, Mu-Nod shunned such nonsense and instead focused on progress.

They developed something called bathrooms, which were places where one, alone as opposed to a group setting, could bathe or drop a deuce on marble thrones. They also had flying chariots that could transport a person from place to place at an amazing speed. It was said that the very gods of Olympus vacationed there.

Then, one day, the scientists of this magnificent city created something called "ThyPlace." This system, which enabled citizens to communicate with each other through long cables suspended throughout the city, led to their very downfall.

Instead of working and inventing, the denizens of Mu-Nod sent each other vapid messages and manipulated photos of themselves. They updated their "ThyPlace" pages many times a day, virtually crippling their productivity. They spent all their time quoting ignorant celebrities and customizing their personal "ThyPlace" pages. Soon, however, the morally lacking invented fake personalities for themselves in order to "befriend" the youngest members of the society. Perversity ran rampant.

The less people worked and the more time they spent sending messages to each other led to severe economic decline. The city deteriorated and went to pot.

Soon, the gods themselves decided to punish the wicked, slovenly population of Mu-Nod. They called everyone on "ThyPlace" dorks, which is another word for whale dick, and destroyed the entire civilization for its wickedness. Thusly, this great city perished as it fell beneath the waves of the ocean, brought down by its inability to function because of a silly social-networking program.

This story is true; may the gods fornicate me with an olive branch if I tell a lie. Let this be a lesson to all of the other cities in the world—a warning, as it were. The entire world is at risk if they heed not these words. Thank you, and good night.

There you have it. MySpace is certainly a modern version of the “ThyPlace” that destroyed the magical kingdom of Mu-Nod. The same terrible fate could await us if we continue to use MySpace so recklessly. Also, Plato essentially called MySpace users dorks. So, unless you want to be a fucking dork, I suggest you quit screwing around with MySpace.

Point 4: Nostradamus’ Quatrains
Since most of you probably have no idea who Nostradamus is, I'll enlighten you. Even a genius like me can be charitable sometimes. Why, just the other day I bought a pencil from a deaf retard on the subway. This is the abridged version of Nostradamus’ history, written to make sense to cigarette-smoking chimps. I think you’ll all be able to understand it.

Nostradamus was born a long time ago in a land far away. He was a pissed off kid because his parents named him Michelle. That's why he started calling himself Butch. Since he lived in a salon, no one bought the "tough" name. That pissed him off even more, so he killed his wife and kid and blamed it on the plague.

Still desperate to look manly, he married a new lady named Anne. She was really stupid, but he only married her as a trophy wife so it didn't really matter. It was rumored that she spoke terrible French and couldn't cook for a damn, but she had huge tits and that was all ol' "Butch" needed to help his reputation.

He also grew a sweet beard and moved into a spooky-looking tower where he started writing poetry. Realizing a French poet would make people world wide question his masculinity for all time, he changed his name to Nostradamus and spread rumors that he was writing some spooky shit about the future, not fruity poems about wine and flowers.

Then, everyone was all mystified by Nostradamus and they read his terrifying poems, or quatrains as he called them. Quatrain is basically a word Nostradamus said the ghosts told him to use to describe his fortune-telling.

Anyway, he wrote a bunch of quatrains and people were afraid of the end of the world that he may or may not have predicted. You see, Nostradamus was a sneaky fellow, and many experts believe his quatrains weren't really predictions, but really bad jokes only he got.

Regardless, people have been scared of Nostradamus for hundreds of years now. They also call him a prophet and celebrate his birthday every year by wearing fake beards and silly hats.

I have found a few quatrains that predict the birth of MySpace and its terrible effects on humanity. It's pretty damned amazing, so hold on to your helmets and read on.

With a click and a blank stare
They speak to friends they've never met
Where the young are really old men

And the women are too

And another one:

Self-absorbed, empty-headed fools
Quote lines from bad plays and lyrics from mindless music at each other
Bright pink backgrounds blind the unprepared
Women much fatter than their pictures suggest

And, most ominously:

The system shall corrupt the world
Bringing mental-retardation and exaggerated self-importance
Name after name will be added to lists

Nyspice will bring social ruin

In the last line there, I interpret "Nyspice" to mean "MySpace"; much like other Nostradamus experts believe Nostradamus' "Hister" meant "Hitler." It couldn’t be more clear that Nostradamus predicated MySpace’s ability to bring about terrifying social ruin.

For any of you still reading along without understanding the big picture, I’ll spell it out for you: MySpace will bring about the end of the world. The proof is all there … in a condensed, blog-friendly kind of way. If any of you dare to learn more about MySpace ushering in the end of the planet as we know it, you can visit my website at ****************** and buy my books from **********. Also, if there are any especially sexy ladies who want to get nailed by a genius before the world comes to an end, you can call **********. That’s my cell. Hot ladies can also find saucy pictures of me on MySpace.

[Editor’s Note: All of Thad’s contact information has been blocked by the owner of this blog because Thad called him a twat.]

Independence Day