Brain Farts Brain Fart brain farts brain fart brain-fart brain-farts brainfart brainfarts LEO Louisville Eccentric Observer parody lampoon satire Louisville Kentucky Kevin Gibson kgramone@aol.com  kgramone humor

Brain Farts was a weekly humor column that ran in the Louisville Eccentric Observer (LEO) from mid-2000 until the summer of 2002. It was, well, eccentric. And occasionally satirical. And sardonic. Some liked it, some hated it; some just didn't get it, and that's OK. There were times when I didn't get it either. I've compiled here some of the archives from Brain Farts for the enjoyment of friends, family and anyone else who happens by. I also have written some new Brain Farts, and added some links and other trivialities that you shouldn't be too concerned with.

Unless you're as bored as I am.

So my quote-unquote girlfriend’s sister-in-law asked her husband if orange roughy would be OK for dinner. He said it would be fine. At which point I leaned over to my quote-unquote girlfriend and said, “He should ask for an orange smoothie to go with that orange roughy.”

She didn’t laugh. But my friend the Evil Marketing Genius later told me it was possibly the funniest thing I had ever said.

But that’s not why I’m writing this today. I’m writing because I’m pretty sure we as Americans are becoming more and more numb to the concept of death, at least so long as it involves somebody else.

For instance, I was in a Louisville bar and grill recently watching the University of Louisville’s loss to Illinois in the Final Four. After the game, the inevitable update on the death of Pope John Paul II came on with the requisite icon and accompanying dramatic title, “Death of a Pope.” (Arthur Miller, had he hung in there a few more weeks, would be suing for LOTS of money.)

So, when the big Death of a Pope icon flashed on the screen and the update was announced, some inebriated wise-ass yelled out, “Oh my god! He’s STILL dead!” Personally, I thought it was damn funny. (Timing-wise, at least, it was way funnier than my “orange smoothie” comment.) But it made me stop and think for a moment just how easy it is to joke about death when it’s so far away. So we do.

But, for instance, if the bartender where we were watching the game had suddenly dropped dead of a heart attack and started to turn all blue-gray and stiff, then the EMTs arrived and pronounced him officially dead, it would have been in really poor taste for that guy to say, “Oh my god! He’s STILL dead!” The death in that case would just be way too close. My guess is someone would have been on him, as Roy D. Mercer put it, “like thigh fat on a Dixie Chick.”

So I will now proceed to say, with some trepidation but very little remorse because of the relative distance, that the unfortunate death of Terri Schiavo following the removal of her feeding tube actually contained some morbidly humorous irony not typically mentioned by the press. (Note: If you are easily offended, please stop reading now and go do something to help the homeless or the sick.)

Here’s the irony: Terri Schiavo had been bulimic, and it was her bulimia that is believed to have been the cause of the cardiac arrest that left her in her persistent vegetative state. (Bulimia can cause serious chemical imbalances in the body that can lead to all sorts of physical problems, including heart attacks). But you see where I’m going with this, right? She in essence nearly starved herself to death because of the eating disorder ... and in the end, when her feeding tube was removed, she starved to death. The journey finally played itself out.

So what’s the iconic headline missing from this news story? “Death of a Human Asparagus”? “Upchuck and Die”? “The Ultimate Veggie Diet”?

Sure, sure, I know I’m going to hell. And feel free to make fun of me when I do, because chances are there won’t be anyone nearby who will give a crap.

E-mail the writer at kgramone@aol.com. Or read Terri Schiavo's official blog instead. More touching that you might think.