Ask God

God. He has no time for you "Little weiners",
originally uploaded by Bergkamp13.

The first of what we here at Mr Bitter hope will be many columns where you, are valued readers, ask God directly for advice. No middle men, no phoney-baloney religious trappings, just you and the Big guy, one on one.

Dear God,
Why do bad things happen to good people?
Raymond, Detroit

Raymond,
Why do you think, genious? Do you really believe I've got the time and/or energy to be there everytime you get fired or lose a girlfriend through your own stupidity? Lose some weight, asshole.

Dear God,
Republican or Democrat? Republican, right?
Geoerge, Washington

Dear George,
Yeah don't think I don't know who you are. First off, I'd kindly appreciate it if you and your followers would stop misrepresenting everything I've ever said and everything my relatives and those loosely assiciated with me have said over the last 2000 years or so. You are giving me a fucking headache. Secondly I've always wished I had a boss like you. Just how many times do the people working for you have to fuck up before you tie the can to one of these half-wits? Tell Chenney that pacemaker wont last him forever.
Thirdly, I thought it was obvious I voted for Nader, dimwit.

Mr Bitter TV Pick of the Night: Doctor Who

Doctor and Rose,
originally uploaded by Bergkamp13.

Tonight the finale episode of the new Doctor Who series airs on CBC (8pm). As a life long fan I hereby present my unbiased, professional opinion on the new series. But before I do that let me first make it clear I’m not a huge “sci-fi” guy. Star Trek bores me stupid. The last three Star Wars films pretty much crapped all over my childhood memories – or perhaps it’s those memories that keep me from accurately judging the present films and the original three. Maybe none of them were really that good? I am not well versed in Asimov, Dick, that guy who writes the Ender’s series, and whoever else I’m forgetting. I do like Iain Banks sci-fi novels but was only introduced to them through his fiction novels. But I like Dr Who. Well ... I’m a bit obsessed. Anyway …

I was introduced to Dr Who, like many people, on the lap of my father. TVO, the local public broadcaster, used to run Dr Who alongside Magic Shadows, a showcase for black and white serials like Buck Rogers. In many ways it was a perfect fit with Dr Who. Also Dr. Who wasn’t broadcast in North America as a science fiction series. It was a British series and was shown on PBS with Fawlty Towers and other brit-coms. (Red Dwarf debuted in much the same way. ) Dr. Who’s first fans on this side of the Atlantic weren’t sci-fi fans but fans of British television. Like many of those fans I watched the show sitting, or sleeping on my fathers knee as he watched it. It was a family show in the best sense. It wasn’t sacchrine or preachey. There was no message. It was meant to entertain adults and scare children. It was fun.

The creator of the new series Russell T Davies, is a long time fan of the show and the most important creative decision he made was to begin the first episode not with the Doctor but the his new companion, Rose. The fatal mistake made in the 1999 Fox TV movie starring Paul McGann was to open with the Doctor sitting in the TARDIS sipping tea. If you had never before seen Dr Who you would have scratched your head and turned the channel, perhaps to the finale of Roseanne which Dr Who was running against that evening. In the debut episode of the original series in 1963 the audience is first introduced to Iain and Barbara, two schoolteachers discussing a student they both find odd and intriguing. Their curiosity gets the better of them they follow the student, a young woman named Susan, home to discover that she lives in a junk yard. In the yard they discover an old man, who tries to dismiss them and after a altercation, they all tumble into a Police Box to discover, along with the audience, it’s much bigger on the inside than the out. And that it travels through time. That the old man is called the Doctor and he has no plans of letting them go. Their lives will never be the same. The importance here is that the discoveries are made together by the audience and the characters, through the human companions, not the alien Doctor. Their wonder is our wonder. In the new series we are re-introduced to the Doctor through Rose and again the discoveries are a shared experience, not a privileged, insiders view like in the film. This approached allowed the show to attract an entirely new audience. Like my seven-year-old niece, who, like me, watched on her father’s knee … or least from the same couch.

But unlike the old series, the new series had a linked narrative. During Tom Baker’s run were two occasions where the stories were loosely linked: Ark in Space through Revenge of the Cybermen all involved the same space station as a plot device. And season 18 involved a season-long hunt for the 6 missing pieces of the Key to Time. But beyond that most of the stories were self contained and conceivably days or years could pass between stories and we’d never know it. That type of story telling is less prevalent today, what with many series now having season long threads running through them. And although you could conceivable miss and episode of Dr Who and not feel lost, that narrative thread adds to the draw of the series. This first season we have “Bad Wolf” refernces throughout. And with tonight’s final episode we will finally find out who is the “Bad Wolf”. I’ve been spending for more time than any 33 year-old should pondering this question. Is it the Master? The Doctor’s arch nemesis and fellow timelord? Is it the Doctor himself? Are the timelord’s really all dead but the Doctor? If the Daleks survived then maybe the “time war” is about as final as Bush and his cronies seem to think the Iraq insurgency is?

If there is one complaint I have about the series it’s this. It has yet to create a new enemy as memorably as the old series. There has been no new equivalent to the Daleks or Cybermen yet. (The Cybermen are set to return in season two) Although I appauld the series ability to make the Daleks scary again. The Doctor’s reaction in “Dalek”to discovering one of them has survived; fear and panic, sent shivers through the audience. The Daleks were no longer a joke. You used to be able to just run up a flight of stairs to escape them.

What the series needs is new threat to seize the imagination like the Daleks did in their first appearance in the series. Much to the annoyance of then creator ( the Canadian) Sidney Newman who has specifically said there are to be no “bug-eyes” monsters. After tonights finale I can obesses this till season two? Or the perhaps the Chirstmas Special will give birth to a new, series defining villain?

Soccer season does start up again in august.

Like everything with Doctor Who, time will tell.

Live 8 Is Gr8T!!

Funniest Man Alive,
originally uploaded by Bergkamp13.

LETTER TO THE EDITOR:

My name is Laurie Spoolsockets. And I have a complaint about all these people who are poo-pooing the line up for Live 8 in Barrie. I say to you poo-pooers: It's for a good cause so shut up!
Don't you realize Africans are starving? Don't you realize they don't have clothes to wear? Bob Goldenhoff is trying his best to help these people? What are you doing? Writing sarcastic headlines like " Wasn't Anne Murray Available?" Wouldn't that have been great, I say. That really would have been the best show ever! I've already bought my bus ticket to Barrie. And Dan Ackroyd hosting? Are you kidding me? I know this is supposed to be a serious event but even I will be chuckling. And I find African poverty to be deadly serious.
It's been ages since the last Live Aid and I guess the food has run out so the timing is just right. Jann Arden is so funny too. Don't you love how all fat people seem so jolly? And she'll give those starving Africans a sign of what's to come. So much food they'll all put on the pounds. I bet Our Lady Peace could feed a family of six for a week with only one of their angst ridden tunes. And if you're still being all cynical about this well listen up: Gordon Lightfoot is so concerned about the poverty he's coming back from the dead to perform. That's much better than sitting around complaining, don't you think?
Tom Cochrane, Bare Naked Ladies, and Bryan Adams all on the same stage? I mean it's a Canadian dream, really. I'm so proud to be Canadian right now.
So stop all your negative comments and get on board to help the Africans. Do you hate Africans or something?
Laurie

Tests Reveal Cruise Not Crazy, Has Great Stool

Recent test from Medical labs in San Reno have confirmed to Mr. Bitter that actor Tom Cruise, recent observed acting crazy on several talk shows, is in fact not crazy, just retarded.
"All the test came up negative for "the crazies", Dr. Bouhdra said. "Though we found a high level of cricket parts in his stool. Otherwise it was an amazing stool. The greatest stool I've ever seen."
Cruise recently annouced his engagement to Katie Holmes. Recent reports reveal Holmes' stools have been improving since hooking up with Cruise. Holmes and Cruise were photographed recently eating fresh crickets while sunning themselves on a rock in Barbados.
It has also been reported that Holmes will convert to Scientology. Sceintologists believe psychiatry to be "pseudoscience" unlike Scientology its self which believes in the existence of Lizard people inhabiting human forms.
Scientologists, on average, have the best stools, according to doctors.
"it's all those crickets they eat," said Dr. Bouhdra. "They're really improve the stool."

Without Semen Jackson 'Withering Away"

Michael Jackson is "withering away" according to his lawyer and without a weekly dose of young semen Jackson may not be long for this world.
"Without the semen he's domed" said Jackson's lawyer. "That's what this trial has done. It's brought Michael to the brink of death."
Jackson's lawyer said after his acquittal that Jackson would no longer allow young men to sleep over at his Neverland Ranch for fear he may be accused of molesting them.
Jackson has undergone numerous cosmetic surgeries and other "experimental" treatments to prolong his youthful looks. Those treatments need "almost daily" upkeep, said unnamed Jackson insiders. He says that Jackson needs the particular proteins found in the semen of young, preferably virgin, males. It's those proteins that keep Jackson's "skin" from decomposing. It is also responsible for the white or "bleached" look of his "skin". (The "skin" is thought to be some type of space-age polymer brought back from one of the early moon landings.)
Jackson's lawyer was quick to point out that Jackson uses medicinal, glittered semen extraction gloves to obtain the semen.
"He doesn't just "whack them off"," he added incredulously. " It's all very non-sexual."
The unamed source shifted uncomfortably and chewed furiously on a raw fish behind the walls of the Neverland Ranch where the interview was being conducted. But he verified everything Jackson's lawyer had said.
"It's all coming apart. The work is deteriorating at an alarm rate. Without a heavy dose of semen soon he'll be nothing but a primordial puddle. Although a primordial puddle with great dance moves," continued the unnamed source. (The source is infact nameless. He was raised on the Jackson ranch from an embryo. He says Jackson named him but kept the name secret because "to name you would be to destroy your innocence".)
"It's very much like the blood of young virgin females that Catherine Zeta Jones bathes in every morning," said the source. "Otherwise she'd look like a withered old Welch woman. Then who'd wanna do her?"

Mr. Bitter's : Best Albums of all Time

In no particular order and for no particular reason the editorial board of Mr. Bitter, Music Division, presents:

• You Forgot It In People: Broken Social Scene

- A quintissentially Canadian album not in sound but in spirit. A perfect distillation of all its indi-pop influences. Each influence is wholly honoured while also being wholly original.

• Loveless: My Bloody Valentine

• Ocean Rain: Echo and the Bunnymen

• Endtroducing: DJ Shadow

• Joy Division: Unknown Pleasures

- Closer gave birth to Goth. Unknown Pleasures gave birth to Interpol.

• Bizzaro: Wedding Present

What the Smiths might have sounded like had Morrisey not been such a self-absorbed ponce. Angry love songs with sardonic twist.

• Power, Corruption and Lies: New Order

- The first real New order album. Movement being an excorsism of Iain Curtis' ghost. Everything that makes new order great is respresented on this album.

• winter hymn, country hymn, secret hymn: Do Make Say Think

- Songs that lure you in then lift you up then strike with such violence it's takes your breath away

• The House Of Love (Creation): House of Love *for details of the re-release check out : http://website.lineone.net/~shineon.productions/

• PsychoCandy: Jesus and Mary Chain

-The first time I every listenned to it i thought my head phones where broken. I had never heard anything like it before. Under the feedback where some of the catchiest pop-hooks you'll hear. Again an album on the edge of beauty and violence.

• Electropura: Yo La Tengo

• Mars Audiac Quintet: Stereo Lab

Available at fine record stores everywhere. Remember, I said fine record stores!!! Not the crappy ones.

Mr. Bitter Scoops World Press with Jackson Verdict!!!

Mr. Bitter, the blog that has been giving it’s readers insightful, accurate reporting and commentary on the days events for the last few weeks or so, scooped the entire world by reporting a full hour before the verdicts were read that Jackson was guilty … we mean not guilty. (It took us awhile to get used to the idea too)
We here at Mr. Bitter, from the editorial board all the way down to the print room toilet cleaners, are not ones to toot our own horns. But here we go. We rock. Everyone else sucks.
Using state of the art quantum reality predictors fitted with telepathic, telescoping wave resonators, we were able to determine within a 500,000,000,000,000/100,000,000,000,000,000th of a probability that we probably had it right. We think that's about a 50% chance if you’re not a “stats” person.

See our award winning stories (we sweep next weeks “Bloggies” according to the reality predictor) below.

NAMBLA HAILS JACKSON VERDICT

NAMBLA, the national Association of Man/Boy Love, hailed the Jackson verdict as a great leap forward.
“I couldn’t be happier,” said Nambla spokesmen Merle Fish. “We hear we’re going to be officially recognized by the state.”
Nambla members gathered at the Trenton Pines Memorial Arena to watch live coverage of the verdict. Upon hearing the not guilty verdict the attendees created an impromptu dance floor. With Michael Jackson’s Thriller album playing in the background, the Nambla members shuffled their feet awkwardly to the beats while avoiding each others gaze. Many wore checkered shirts, had thick glasses on their balding heads and picked at the buffet table that was adorned with bags a chips and cans of Pepsi (official soft drink of Nambla).

Jackson Acquitted and Given New Title

Breaking News: Michael Jackson Verdict

Michael Jackson has not only been acquitted of molesting young boys, he’s been given a new title to add to the King of Pop. State of California Official Masturbator of Young Men.
Michael Jackson is now free to give the reach around to whomever he likes. He is also permitted to administer “Rusty Trombones” and something called a “Sampler”.
“This is great opportunity for our young men to learn proper masturbating techniques from a master,” said State Representative Nancy Young. "No more beating themselves senseless." Along with the new title comes a lifetime supply of KY Jelly and Kleenex. He has also been given a pyjama allowance and had his face sprayed with weatherproofing to keep out moisture and prevent rot.
More to come.

Blogger Sucked Into own Navel: Resulting Black Hole Threatens Universe

Why does everyone hate me?,
originally uploaded by Bergkamp13.

The narcissistic, self absorbed, navel gazing "blogging" of Wendy May Lurno, 24, of New Hampshire may have doomed the entire universe to nonexistence.
"This is the greatest single disaster facing not only mankind but the entire universe," said physicist Norman Mann of Oxford University. "This little twit has doomed us all: past, present and future."
Ms. Lurno disappeared into her own navel a few days ago leaving a black pinpoint in existence. The pinpoint is quickly expanding into a small black hole with a gravitational pull so heavy not even light or Ms. Lurno's collection of dark, charcoal, self portraits can escape it.
The site is decorated with more charcoal drawings. A link entitled: "My Despair", leads viewers to a full gallery of drawings and pictures. Every entry references Ms. Lurno's dissatisfaction with her life. Her only joy in life, she writes, came from her cat, Mr. Depp.
The self portraits show Ms Lurno in a number of morose and macabre settings. In one picture, entitled "More Sorrow" she has drawn herself crying under a weeping willow. In another she is seen looking into a reflective pool, starring morosely into her own reflection. This piece is entitled "Why Don't I have Any Friends?" This question is seeming answered by another called: "I Hate Everyone".The only colour used in any of the self portraits is red, which she used to draw her pierced, bleeding heart.
The blog, entitled "Miss Wendy's Sad Little World" contained many entries about her cat and numerous unrequited crushes on a number of young male actors, including Brad Pitt and Orlando Bloom.
"Today Mr. Depp crawled onto my pillow and meowed into my ear. Isn't that cute?," reads one entry accompanied by a picture of Mr. Depp, a black and white cat, dressed like Johnny Depp's character Captain Jack Sparrow from the film Pirates of the Caribbean. "It was the first time I'd found reason to smile in 7 months," the entry continued.
Another entry reads: "My roommate is allergic to cats and wants me to get rid of Mr. Depp. She's so selfish. She says the cat hairs cause her to have convulsions. As if! Mr. Depp wouldn't hurt anyone. And what about me? He's my only friend in the world. It's not like her convulsions have ever killed her. I hope she moves out"
There are few comments on the site.Those that appear there are by Wendy herself though she has attributed these to Mr. Depp.
It was a few weeks ago, researchers say, that Ms Lurno's writing achieved critical mass.
"She was so self absorbed she actually wrote about her belly button lint!" exclaimed an exasperated Mann. "If only someone had actually read her blog we may have been able to stop her."
In one of her last entries she describes the lint and it's textures in great detail, related them to the "many textures of my tortured existence."
Ms Lurno, an only child, lived in an affluent suburb. Her parents doted on her, say neighbours, and she wanted for nothing, except for "a separate universe were Mr. Depp and I could play all day long."
"The depths of self absorption are mind boggling. Oh well ... we're all fucked now." Said Mann, taking a sip of Jack Daniels from the bottle while having unprotected anal sex with a prostitute.
Scientists say the universe has only weeks before it is sucked into its self.
"Could you imagine if this new inside out universe was capable of supporting life and we all ended up living in some deranged Wendy universe? The living would surely envy the dead," said Mann.

AMAZING TRUE NATURE STORIES: BEAR ATTACK!!

(Ed. Note I - This somewhat true story was found scribbled on the back of a completely piggishly-devoured whole bag of Doritos. Not the small bags, the big ones. Can you believe it? Eaten in one sitting. Ridiculous)

(Ed. Notes II - The names have been changed for no particular reason)

My name is Damon Sch - I mean ... Harrison Ford. Harrison Ford. My girlfriend ... Jennifer Lopez! No wait ... Beyonce. Yeah, that's it, my girlfriend Beyonce and I decided to get out of the city and away from our busy lives. We went to her cottage, located on the serene Gull River in the bustling metropolis of Norland. ( If you say it fast enough it sounds like you're saying New Orleans with a Cajun accent. When the person you're talking to says "New Orleans!?!" Just smile and walk away)
Beyonce and I, or B as I call her in our private, intimate moments, enjoy our down time together. No agents, no ... saving the world from super criminals. No music videos. No MTV movie award ceremonies. What are those anyway? "Hey, you kinda suck. Want an award?"
I digress. B and I spent the day sunning our buff, Hollywood bodies. I talked about how horrible a film maker George Lucas was and how I could have pulled a better script out of my autism- struck illiterate grandma's ass. B talked about how she'd love a shot at J Lo, just her and J Lo, one on one. She'd show that bee-otch what for! (Coming to Much More Music this fall: Heat Meter! J Lo v. Beyonce. Watch for it ... this fall!!!) We watched the fish swimming idly by, the ducks paddling by as the hour slowly drifted by. The sun slowly descending, our Hollywood thoughts turned to dinner.
We'd given the servants the weekend off. It was the least we could do. We made them work Christmas. And Christiana did miss her Mom's funeral when B stepped on the pebble. It nearly pierced the skin. Christiana held her till she cried herself to sleep. When she woke B had almost completely forgotten her pebble scare. But her next scare would be one she, and I, Harrison Ford, would never forget.
We barbecued. The hot juices from our sausage and shishkebobs dripped down our faces and made us HOT. That night B and I made love the way all Hollywood types do: In soft focus and with slow dissolves. After we laid on our bed strewn with ambrosia and soft petals and talked about our love. Then we heard it: the crash of Destiny ... and the BBQ.
Like one of my many heroic characters (and perhaps less popular comedic ones: Working Girl anybody?) I leapt from our bed of love . I ran to the window and there I looked my destiny straight in the eye. But this was reality. There were no klieg lights or animals trainers. No. I stood only feet away from certain death. I stood only feet away from ... a KILLER BEAR!
The only thing between B and I and becoming bear diner was a half inch of cottage window. (do they not know that eating this late at night - it must have been past midnight - is so bad for your weight? No wonder bears are so fat) Heroically I tapped on the window. The animal had knocked over the BBQ hoping to lick the grill clean but seeing us probably changed its mind. It starred at me for what seemed like seconds. I starred back, tapping the glass again and again till my knuckles were raw and sore. "Damn it B," screamed like Han Solo screaming for Chewbacca to do something. "Get me some mittens or a glove!" But it was too late the bear was slowly getting away. Why didn't I chase him and break his neck? Because I knew we'd meet again. Next Week:
BEAR ATTACK II: THIS TIME IT'S PERSONAL

Mr. Bitter Editorial

Gay Marriage? Who Cares?

If there’s one issue that could have less to do with me as a heterosexual male it’s gay marriage.

It will have no bearing on my life. It will not change how I live or how I worship or choose not to worship. It will not make it any easier or harder to pay my rent. It will not make my job any more fulfilling. It won’t make me thinner or fatter. The sum total of its impact will be zero. So what’s the fuss?

Arguments against gay marriage range from the apocalyptical to just plain non-sensical. But the bottom line seems to be the same. Gay marriage will somehow destroy the traditional family. How? Well that’s never been fully explained. It just will. Because two people of the same sex being legally recognized by the state and the church in the institute of marriage will what? Cause husbands to look covetously over the fence at Mary’s hubby Jack who always keeps himself in good shape and likes to cut the hedges with his shirt off in the sun. Or does Mary think back to that one night in university after she smoked a little too much weed and found herself starring at her roommate Tammy in her underwear and wonder … what if? Is the only thing that’s keeping this Sodom and Gomorrah from happening on Canadian streets and the streets of the world the laws restricting gay marriage? Are we that close to the edge?

The problem isn’t gay marriage its self but the entire idea of homosexuality. It really, really seems to bug us straights. We can’t seem to quite figure it out. It scares us. We think every gay man is going to try and hit on us and more ominously try and “convert” us. We also seem to harbour the porno stereotype that if we were to come across two women copulating they’d gladly let us join in on the fun. They couldn’t possibly be that gay, could they, that’d they’d turn down a full erect penis?

Why any self respecting gay person would stay in these medieval religions to fight for change instead of just joining more liberal churches remains a mystery to me – though I guess had Rosa Parks felt the same she just would have taken another bus.

The “cultural war” that is apparently consuming our neighbours to the south has caused few casualties up here in the north. Though some religious groups here are now conspiring to make the Federal Conservatives even more unelectable. The conservative’s zeal for political power (which seems a little un-Jesus like to me) is a reflection of fear; fear of a world that seems to be, if not leaving them behind, openly mocking their belief system. The truth is that the modern world makes any attempt at literal interpretation of the bible a folly. The earth was not created in six days. Dinosaurs and mankind did not live a Flintstone like existence. God has long since given over control of our lives to us: the hairless apes who remade his quiet little Garden of Eden in our own image. Goodness and morality are not the sole property of the religious whether they are Muslim, Christian or Jew. Do we really believe that before the advent of today’s major religions everyone lived completely amoral existences? How far would we have gotten had we been busy murdering each other and screwing each other’s wives and girlfriends? I'm sure the ancient greeks - many of their gods were examples of how not to live your life - might have had a thing or two to say about that. Not to mention the Egyptians, Babylonians etc.

If you find homosexuality and gay marriage offensive that’s your choice. It’s a free country and you can choose to be offended by whatever you like whether it be same-sex couples, hats or puppy dogs. But being offended by something doesn’t give you the right to stop others from participating in that offense. I find reality TV offensive. Does that give me the right to stop others from watching it? No, I simple choose not to watch because nothing that appears in those shows will affect my life at all. And neither will gay marriage.