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.
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Brain Farts: How Dead Will YOU
Be? |
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By Kevin Gibson |
Unless someone extremely famous passed since my deadline expired, George Harrison is by far the deadest man in the world.
Sure, others have been deader -- John F. Kennedy, Elvis Presley, maybe even Harrison's former bandmate John Lennon -- but none of those is deader right now. Harrison is EXTREMELY dead.
I don't mean to be disrespectful or macabre. I have been a Beatles fan since childhood, and when I heard the news last week, I went into mourning. Half of the most influential rock group that ever existed is now gone.
And it's because they were so influential that Harrison is so dead.
Think about it: most of us can only dream of being as dead as George Harrison is right now. Only a handful can even aspire to be so dead. And degree of death is certainly conditional based on timing.
If Jim Morrison had lived until, say, yesterday, he would not be nearly as dead today as he was July 3, 1971. Marilyn Monroe remains extremely dead even today. She's not quite as dead as she was Aug. 5, 1962, but her deadness hasn't decreased as much as some. Ditto Elvis. He's so dead that people keep insisting they see him alive at Burger King. Conversely, I don't think Liz Taylor will ever be as dead as she could have been.
Now think about your Aunt Myrtle, who maybe died at age 86 in a nursing home. Aunt Myrtle, sweet as she was (despite her persistent drinking problem and bad hygiene), really was never terribly dead, even the day after she became officially dead. Her obituary consisted of a few words and a list of survivors, many of whose names were no doubt misspelled.
How dead will you be when your time comes? That will vary, obviously. Denny Crum will be pretty dead, depending on how much longer he lives.
Britney Spears will be extremely dead if she goes, say, next week. But if the New Kids on the Block all happen to die next week, they won't be nearly as dead is if they had died in a tragic tour bus crash (or maybe a hotel fire in Louisville, Ky.) in 1990.
Of course, degree of deadness is always subject to perspective. While to me George Harrison is EXTREMELY dead, for a teen-ager who wasn't exposed to the Beatles much growing up, he's really only a little dead. By comparison, if the Pope dies tomorrow, he won't be all that dead to me, because I'm not Catholic. (I'm Libertarian.)
I've often wondered how dead I will be when my time comes. I don't think that matters right now; I really don't care if I'm very dead when I go. I won't be here to enjoy my deadness anyway.
But part of me is really looking forward to finding out how dead Osama bin Laden will be.
Contact the writer at kgramone@aol.com. Hurry, before it's too late.