The Burned-Out Newspapercreatures Guild's World-Famous Encyclical
Copyright © 2006 by BONG
Reposted on Common Sense Journalism by permission to provide a newsreader feed. All material represents the views of BONG author, Charley Stough. Reformatted only as necssary for the blog-publishing software.
For July 11, 2006. Thanks, U.S. Customs. for finding the Viagra and putting a whole new meaning on the expression, "Yeah, but Rush Limbaugh was on drugs when he said that!" says the Burned-Out Newspapercreatures Guild, and this is BONG Bull No. 677!
CONTRAINDICATIONS WARNING TO THE WALL STREET JOURNAL EDITORIAL PAGE.
Reading the New York Times can cause you to become dizzy, faint, or have a heart attack or stroke. Tell all your healthcare professionals that you read the New York Times. If you need emergency medical care for a heart problem, it will be important for your healthcare professionals to know when you last read the New York Times. Reading the New York Times may uncommonly cause vision changes. Some common side effects of reading the New York Times include headache, flushing, upset stomach, stuffy or runny nose, urinary tract infection or diarrhea. If, after reading the New York Times, you experience an erection lasting more than four hours, seek medical help immediately.
ONE YOU WON'T READ IN THE SAN ANTONIO EXPRESS-NEWS, WHERE PUNS AND WORDPLAY WILL GET AN EDITOR SPANKED. In the Dayton Daily News, BONG's new local paper, "Obit writers thinking outside the box."
IF THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA ... --? And she is Anna Wintour of U.S Vogue, what is the local middle-manager at the second-tier rag in your life and what does he or she wear? Choose your demon:
-- The backstabber wears Target.
-- The lifer wears gimme tees.
-- The imp wears team jerseys.
-- The suck-up wears hand-me-downs.
-- The boss's intern kid wears silk.
-- Beelzebub wears BVDs.
-- The gnome wears Goodwill.
-- The tattler wears an invisibility cloak.
-- The pizza glutton wears tomato paste.
-- The basket case wears Everlast.
SCREEN SAVER. This week's freebie is a whimsical poster for the annual meeting of the World Photo Editors Chowder & Marching Society, meeting in Eloy, Ariz., in August. There's a lot of inside humor in the graphic, starting with Eloy, Ariz., in August, when even the horned toads wish they were in Aspen. Help yourself, or contact the Chief Copyboy to discuss how you can become the art-connoisseur owner of a larger, high-res poster for your cubicle. Upload the art here.
MONDAY-MORNING HOOLIGANS. Shocking. Stunning. Worse than a baseball slugger taking steroids or an over-the-hill halfback murdering his wife. Well, maybe not the halfback. But talk in Internet groups among World Cup soccer fans after France's Zinedine Zidane's career-ending head butt was unforgiving. The guy should've sucked it up. Example chatter:
Whyist: "Zidane's moment of madness may have been provoked by Italy's Marco) Materazzi calling his sister a prostitute, according to report on Brazilian television channel Globo. Fantastico, a programme on Globo, employed a lip-reading experts who said footage showed the Italian twice insulted Zidane's sister."
Mike: "Sorry, that's still not enough. Basically, the equivalent of 'Yo momma.'"
Ron: "Exactly. Who here hasn't had their sister called a prostitute?"
COMIX SECTION. The Further Adventures of Herman "Speed" Graphic, ace photographer for the Chagrin Falls Commercial Scimitar, and his Faithful Companion, Typo the Wonder Pig.
PANEL ONE: Safely ensconced in the back booth at the Bait Shoppe with the new style manual, the Deft Duo discuss developments in the bold new design paradigms. Speed enquires, "Wow, Typo, can you believe there will be absolutely no stories jumping off Page 1 ever again? No maundering interviews of columnists' garrulous and incredibly articulate late uncles? No dueling muffin recipes? No moody silhouette photo fillers?"
PANEL TWO: Typo, flicking a wandering moth off his pal's trenchcoat, a deathbed gift from an ancient mystic wire service executive editor on a fog-shrouded eastern island, declares, "That last one should give us pause, Boss! No rehashed photo spreads based on sneaky twisting of the Brightness-Contrast dial and the Rotate button!"
PANEL THREE: Speed wonders, "I guess Absentee Publisher Gimlet Peen knows what he's doing! We have to deliver according to a shrinking attention span in media!"
Typo agrees, "That's right, Boss, and not just among staffers! But wait! Look, over there by the newsrack! It's Ursula, my Unrequited Love! What's she doing in the Bait Shoppe? Ursula! Ursula, you've come back to me ... !"
PANEL FOUR: Before Speed can intervene, the panel is obscured by pain stars and popout lettering reading "ka-LANG ka-LANG ka-LANG ka-LANG!"
PANEL FIVE: Comforting his pal with a shredded bar towel, Speed counsels, "Just rest easy, Typo! The ambulance has been called, and Circulation will account for the damaged copies!"
Typo gamely smiles, "Don't worry about me, Boss! Did you see how she swung that newsrack, and full of unsold 3-stars, too! Did you see that focus!? Did you see those biceps!? Is it any wonder I love her so!?"
BONG Bull is the product of Burned-Out Newspapercreatures Guild Chief Copyboy Charley Stough, in codger's paradise overlooking Dayton, Ohio. E-mail firstname.lastname@example.org for any reason.