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« Bush Rues News Jews Haven't Changed Views | Main | Kerry: I Question the "Timing" of Bush's Troop Moves »
August 16, 2004

American Haiku: The Road to Hollywood

(jangly, American Idol-ish music plays)

MR. PAUL ANKA (narrating off-screen): They came from all over the country...

(video footage: Hundreds of haiku entrants lined up outside a convention center, many holding placards that say "Haikus Must Have Integrity!" or "Johnny Coldcuts Rules!;" they cheer as the camera pans across them)

They offered their haikus at our talent search locations in New York...

(ALLAHPUNDIT, reading his haiku before the panel of celebrity judges:)


Sid jizzed on my face
Before I was ready. His
Timing was suspicious.

They lined up in Los Angeles...

(American Idol wannabee WILLIAM HUNG reads his haiku)

She Bangs

She bangs. She bang.
She bang. She bang. She bang.
She bang the thing.

In Washington...

(OLIVER WILLIS gives the camera a thumb's up, then bites into a Filet-O-Fish)

At Dallas, Texas...

(Dave in Texas reads his poem)

.cc Obama

Two Americas?
My staff said just say there's one
Loose fucking shit here

And even in, um, "INDC"...

(BILL FROM INDC reads his haiku:)

Ah, ten year-old scotch
My face keeps getting wider
Thought the bitch could swim

But now it's time to separate the contenders from the pretenders, and find out who's going to Hollywood to be crowned the winner of this year's American Haiku.

The selection process was difficult, but our celebrity judges, Geoffrey the Duck--

GEOFFREY THE DUCK: Yo, yo, what's up dog?! You feelin' it?

-- Johnny Coldcuts--

(Johnny nods)

--and special Celebrity Guest Judge Simon Cowell --

(Simon Cowell, wearing a very tight shirt showing his dangling man-boobies, nods with a broad smile)

-- have narrowed down the field and given Tickets to Hollywood to the best rightwing political haikus America has to offer. And we'll start by showing you the Best of the Worst -- the entrants whose haiku talents didn't quite match their haiku ambitions. There was a lot of loose shit in the early-going:

(AUDITION HALL: A pale little pencilneck ultraliberal stands ready to read his poem; Johnny, Geoffrey, and Simon sit behind a table, drinking Coke from conspicuously-labeled glasses)

SIMON: And you are?

THE USA TODAY EDITOR: I'm Ann Coulter's editor from USATODAY.

SIMON: And what haiku will you be performing?

THE EDITOR: It's called "Beyond Befuddled."

SIMON: Right. Off you go.

EDITOR (reading from a loose-leaf page):

"Beyond Befuddled"

References I don't understand.
Mentions of "liberal" lose me in the fog.

(he looks up in hopeful anticipation)

SIMON: If I'm being honest, not good enough. Not good enough for American Haiku.

JOHNNY COLDCUTS: When I look at you, I want to jump over the table and punch you in your friggin' throat.

EDITOR: Well, what's wrong with it?

SIMON: You are the haiku equivalent of Gigli.

EDITOR: I don't get it.

SIMON: Exactly.


(A round pile of bellyfat waddles into the room, wearing a Washington Redskins t-shirt and cap)

GEOFFREY: And who are you now?

OLIVER WILLIS: I'm Oliver Willis. I'm like Kryptonite to Stupid. Boo-yah, biiiatch!!!

GEOFFREY: Uhhh, okay. "Boo-Yah," indeed. You're "street," all right. Your Dockers khakis tell me that much.

SIMON: And what will you be peforming for us?

OLIVER: It's called "Filet-O-Fish."

SIMON: Right. Off you go.



Cod-patty, batter-dipt and
fried; a golden-brown treasure
in a blue polyfoam box.

(Oliver begins pumping his arms in victory) YEAHHH! YEAHHH! I nailed it!!! Boooooyahhhhh, biiiyatch!!

SIMON: (gestures broadly to indicate, "So what?")

GEOFFREY: What the fuck are you dancing around like a retard for, moron? It sucked.

JOHNNY COLDCUTS (softly): Filet-O-Fishes kind of make me horny.

(Geoffrey the Duck gives him a look)

JOHNNY COLDCUTS: What? It's not weird or anything. I'm a sandwich. What the hell am I supposed to bang?


JOHNNY: You have sex with ducks.

GEOFFREY: Not duck sandwiches, though.

SIMON (to Willis): I'm sorry, but that's two "No's," Oliver. Thank you for your effort.

OLIVER WILLIS: Comedy is my real forte, anyway. I could do a couple of quick impressions. (launches into bad impression of Dana Carvey doing the first George Bush) Nah. Gahn. Do. It. Wouldn't be prudent.

(the panel just stares at him blankly)

OLIVER WILLIS: (doing Adam Sandler) Wait, wait. Look. I've got a -- I've got a-- I've got an ashtray for an arm. Look, I'm crazy ashtray-arm man. Give me some Filet-O-Fish sandwiches. Hah, hah. You guys ever seen that sketch?

SIMON: Thank you. We've seen enough.


(A stubble-faced chubby metrosexual, carrying a Starbucks coffee cup, walks into the room)

SIMON: And you are?

JOSH MARSHALL: My name is Joshua Micah Hezekia Bucephalus Kobyashi Boutros-Boutros Marshall.

GEOFFREY: We're just going to call you "Sparky," all right?

JOSH: I'd prefer my full given name: Joshua Micah Hezekia Bucephalus Kobyashi Boutros-Boutros Marshall.

GEOFFREY: Well, Sparkster, I'd prefer having a schlong the approximate dimensions and heft of a fungo bat, but we each take what life gives us.

SIMON: What will you be reading for us today, Sparky?

"SPARKY": I call it, "Sources."


My sources inform me
CNN has the goods on the Plame matter
I cannot say more at the moment.

(the judges seem bored and unimpressed)

GEOFFREY: I'm leaning towards "No."

JOHNNY COLDCUTS: It's the worst I've heard all week.

SIMON: Horrible. If you won American Haiku, it would be the death of the haiku industry as we know it.

"SPARKY": Well I think it was very good.

JOHNNY COLDCUTS: And that's… your opinion?

"SPARKY": It sure is.

JOHNNY COLDCUTS: Let me tell you something about your fuckin' opinion, Sparky. When I want to hear "your opinion," I'll figure out what I think it should be, write it down on a piece of paper, wrap it around my cock, and then shove it straight up your ass for you. How's that sound, chum?

("Sparky" stamps off in a huff; Simon, Geoffrey, and Johnny giggle)

SIMON: Can I use that one on American Idol?

JOHNNY COLDCUTS: Sure. It's not mine anyway. It's just something my grandma used to say. Kind of a lullaby.


(Andrew Sullivan stands on the stage, in a shirt reading "I (HEART) Beagles")


Email of the Day

I agree with whatever
you said about the FMA.
You're a true independent.

GEOFFREY: Hmmmmm… I'm sort of on the fence on this one.

JOHNNY COLDCUTS: Me too. I could go either way.

SIMON: I agree with that. I'm still mulling this one over.

ANDREW SULLIVAN: Really? I have a shot?

GEOFFREY: Yeah. We're "independents" as far as your haikus.

SIMON: We just need money for "bandwidth upgrades" in order to make our decision.

ANDREW (deflated): Oh. Okay. You're being ironical.

JOHNNY COLDCUTS: No, asshole. We're being "get the fuck out of here before I rip that shitty goatee off your face and stuff it up your nostrils."

(as Sullivan dejectedly shuffles to the exit)

GEOFFREY: "Ironical." Did you hear that? "Ironical."

SIMON: Even I thought that was gay.
And I'm British.

GEOFFREY: Yes, British. And also-- gay.

JOHNNY COLDCUTS: Very, very gay.

SIMON: I'm not gay. I date supermodels.

GEOFFREY: Uh-huh. And I had tofu for lunch. But I really wanted the strip steak. Know what I mean, Nigel?

(Mr. Paul Anka, narrating:)But it wasn't all loose shit. Amidst the droning of uninspired haiku came the sound of hammers, slicing through the fuckin' competition:


Gene Frenkle Part 1

Only prescription;
I gotta have more cowbell!
Gold plated diapers

JOHNNY COLDCUTS: Yeah! Now that's what I call a fuckin' haiku!

(Geoffrey the Duck gives a standing ovation, clapping his wings together)

(But Simon seems unimpressed:

SIMON: Horrible. Awful. It was worse than Quentin Tarrantino guest-judging on American Idol.

GEOFFREY: You're crazy.

JOHNNY COLDCUTS: What was wong with it?

SIMON: I don't know. I mean, I listen to this haiku and I don't know what I'm supposed to do with it. It just lays there, useless and unappetizing. Sort of like a woman's genitals.

(Geoffrey and Johnny exchange a look)

SIMON: I look at a woman's genitals and I think, "Now what on earth am I supposed to do with this mess? It clashes with the throw-rugs and it looks like a cleaning nightmare."

JOHNNY: You know, the camera's running, Simon.

SIMON (clearing throat): Um, you know. The way straight guys like us sometimes look at a woman's genitals.

GEOFFREY: No, I don't know, Simon. Why don't you tell us?

SIMON: Oh, come on. Straight guys say things like that all the time. I've heard them.


SIMON: Don't they? You know, when you're standing around in the, uh, I don't know, garage, working with, uhh, wrenches and such?

JOHNNY COLDCUTS: Yeah. You date supermodels all right.

GEOFFREY (to Scout): Well, Scout, whatever issues Simon may need to work out for himself, you've got two out of three votes, and you know what that means.

SCOUT: I'm going… to Hollywood?

GEOFFREY THE DUCK: You sure are!

And haikus with both integrity and "conscious" kept coming…

(quick-cutting video montage of people reading their haikus:)


Lefty bloggers shout:
"Big story coming! Hush hush!"
Crickets chirping still.



Edwards pumps his fist
Energetic and youthful;
Such a pretty mouth



My balls flap free; my
penis stands proud, strong, erect.
Ah, Provincetown.


Balloons not falling on cedars

We need more balloons
There's not enough coming down
What the fuck you guys


Oliver Willis:
Ruminant explosions spread
Methane through the air.


John Kerry

For it. Against it.
For. Against. For. Um, against.
It's nuance, people!



Here's our new weapon:
It fires principles at...
Why are you laughing?

(montage of the judges' decisions):

JOHNNY COLDCUTS: You're going to Hollywood!

SIMON: Well done. We'll be seeing you in Hollywood!

GEOFFREY THE DUCK: If you give me a handjob, you can come to Hollywood.


PSST - Hey, J. Kerry -
Affleck's banging your daughter
(it's the ugly one).

SIMON: That was extremely nasty.

PAGE SIX: I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be.

SIMON: No, I like that. You're going to Hollywood.

There were even a few haikus that touched me on a personal level…


Vinnie Falcone

Vinnie counts to five,
Vinnie then counts out seven.
That's way it is.



Integrity man--
Hammer-like, slicing water--
The hamster still lives!

These haikus -- and others of equal substance of character -- are all going to Hollywood to compete for the American Haiku Championship. Runners Up who demonstrate that they really want to keep their fucking jobs will receive prizes, and will be announced later in the week.

But only one can be named this year's American Haiku! The winner, announced after the Runners Up Show, will receive an exclusive contract to write haikus for a full year, being paid the prevailing wages in the industry (i.e., nothing).

But no matter who wins or who loses, always remember: I am the only fucking important one on that stage. Do you understand? I am the only fucking important one on that stage.

What did I say?

What did I fuckin' say?

Anka, Out!

(jangly music comes up)

(credits roll)




digg this
posted by Ace at 04:12 PM

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