The President Should Do The Right Thing And Commit Ritual Hari-Kiri

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Vol 35 Issue 02

Newest Baywatch Cast Member Kicks It With Byron Allen

LOS ANGELES—Debi Tyler, the latest beach beauty to join the cast of TV's Baywatch, kicked it with Byron Allen Saturday on Allen's syndicated TV talk show. The pair kicked it for exactly six minutes, marking Tyler's first nationally televised kicking of it. Also kicking it with Allen during the one-hour show were NBA star Grant Hill, supermodel Heidi Klum, funnyman Richard Jeni and Lima, OH, resident Jon Specht, winner of the show's "I Wanna Kick It With Byron Allen" contest.

Lone Geek Sits Off By Self Reading The Silmarillion Throughout Recess

BANGOR, ME—For the 17th consecutive recess period, unathletic pariah Jake Muncie sat off by himself Monday and read The Silmarillion, sources reported. The book, fantasy author J.R.R. Tolkien's posthumously published account of the creation of Middle Earth and the subsequent Wars of the Silmarils, engaged the 12-year-old for the entire 33-minute recess period. Muncie reportedly positioned himself in a corner of the school cafeteria, far enough from his dodgeball-playing classmates to remain unmolested.

Yeah, Area Man Is Drunk... So?

MENDHAM, NJ—What are residents of this normally quiet suburban enclave looking at? Are they looking at 34-year-old resident Darren Pollard? Is that it? Yeah, Pollard, who has reportedly consumed 11 beers in the past four hours, is drunk, but so what? Does the greater Mendham area have some kind of problem with that? Shit, Pollard, a truck driver and father of three, drinks when he wants to drink, and a small crowd of pedestrians outside Mickey's Old Towne Tavern had better believe that. Mother fuck—get off of Pollard, man, Pollard is sick of taking shit from local law-enforcement officials. Who does Lt. Tim Brophy, 42, of the Mendham Police Department think he is, fuckin' Rambo? This is bullshit.

Slightly Larger Chair Shifts Delicate Balance Of Office Power

OXNARD, CA—The highly complex intra-office power dynamic at the accounting firm of Adams, Fitzhugh & Associates shifted dramatically Tuesday, when a $229 Futura EZ-Roll office chair was delivered to the cubicle of Henry Rozema. The deluxe new chair, ordered to replace a broken one, stands a full two inches higher than that of co-worker Bill Kraft and, unlike Kraft's chair, features such options as a fingertip-controlled pneumatic height adjuster, customized swivel/tilt controls, a five-blade base with dual-wheel casters, and a leather-upholstered ergonomic backrest. "This radically alters the elaborate, ongoing power struggle between Henry and Bill," office manager Brenda Rutt said. "As partner Willard Haines' retirement draws ever closer, Henry and Bill's desire to replace him only grows stronger, and this striking, option-packed piece of office furniture gives Henry a substantial psychological edge."

Man At Adjacent Urinal Pretends To Look Straight Ahead

CHEHALIS, WA—Curious about his fellow urinator's penis, restaurant patron Dennis Munro rolled his eyeballs far to the left Monday in the hope of surreptitiously glimpsing the flaccid male organ of a man at an adjacent urinal. Pretending to focus intently on a square of white ceramic tile directly in front of him, Munro managed to crane his head very slightly to the left, which, combined with his extreme leftward eyeball positioning, afforded him a brief but clear glimpse of the four-inch-long neighboring penis. Experts believe the heterosexual Munro was acting upon an evaluative impulse, hoping to see a fellow male's penis for purposes of comparing it to his own.

I Hate My Next-Door Neighbors

Not long ago, I was the master of all I surveyed. As I gazed down from my mountain-top estate, I was confident in the knowledge that the fate of the yeomanry that cowered below was firmly in my grasp. I owned all the property in the local village and took 15 percent of the harvest. If a peasant wanted to leave the county, he had to pay a toll on one of my bridges and had to be back before night-fall, lest my feared mastiffs track him down and tear him limb-from-limb. Then the nouveau riche started moving in. Yes, I realize I just used a phrase from the hated French language, but it is the best way to describe the Johnny-Come-Latelies who have decided to pollute my environs with their effete ways. They claim they like to "winter" here, far from the chill and coal-smoke of the city, and hunt foxes, play polo and enjoy "cocktail" drinking-beverages and other silly nonsense.

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The President Should Do The Right Thing And Commit Ritual Hari-Kiri

In the years since my death in 1989, I have observed many political upheavals in the Realm of the Living. Yet, in all this time, I have never seen such a shameful display as what is currently unfolding in your nation's capital. President Clinton's conduct has been base and without honor, but the humiliation of a public Trial of Impeachment is an insult without measure. If your leader has any sense of duty, he will spare his country the dishonor of this vulgar and embarrassing spectacle, and redeem himself by committing ritual hari-kiri. It is the only honorable course of action left to him.

The one called Clinton has shamed his House, his family and his ancestors. He has divided the nation and heaped indignities upon the highest office of the land. He has brought dishonor to his people and to his position. There is only one way for him to step down with dignity, set an example for the children, restore his people's faith in the presidency, and heal this nation's wounds. He must submit to seppuku, ritual suicide, and disembowel himself with a ceremonial short sword, driving the blade into the left side of his abdomen and then drawing it rightward across his stomach, before turning the blade upward, toward his heart.

How else can Clinton regain face before the American people? He has clearly violated the Bushido code of conduct prized by all honorable men, behaving without dignity, honesty, loyalty or courage. Even before the scandal, he behaved more like a common Hohei of the lowest rank than in a manner befitting a Daimyo nobleman. When campaigning for president in 1996, did he take care to avoid contact with truck drivers, auto workers and other persons of low social bearing? Sadly, no. And, when in public, does his wife remain a respectful several paces behind him at all times as simple decency demands? She does not. These insults are bad enough. But now, hiding behind words and a cowardly legalistic defense of his dishonorable actions, he has disgraced himself to the utmost.

He has become more of a dog than a man.

Throughout the entire crisis, Clinton has done only one honorable thing, and that is to declare war. However, even in this he has displayed cowardice, striking at Iraqi military targets with computer-controlled air-to-surface guided missiles instead of giving the young men of his nation the privilege of sacrificing themselves in the Divine Wind of the kamikaze. His wife and child have not even hurled themselves into the sea to regain face for their lineage and family name. Before long, Kenneth Starr and the Republicans will carry the head of their enemy through the streets in a kubibukuro bag, delivering it to their Lords and Masters singing songs of triumph!

Your leader's duty is clear. He should make a pilgrimage to the temples and shrines of his native Arkansas prefecture, and there offer gifts and tributes of rice, fruit and prayers, beseeching his ancestors for their blessing and strength in what he must do. Then he should return to Washington, kneel upon a traditional tatami straw mat and, in absolute silence, plunge the blade into his torso.

In committing this act—preferably on national television, so that his calm and self-control while performing this slowest and most painful form of suicide can be admired by millions—it is most important that Clinton choose wisely in selecting his kaishaku-nin, the man who will be his second and stand behind him to deliver the final jumonji death-blow. My advice would be not to select the one called Gore. He seems a weak and ineffectual man, lacking the courage and strength of will to properly administer the final stroke, which will sever Clinton's head from his body and end his torment. But that is a matter that only Clinton can decide.

Why am I saying all of this? Because I, like your President Clinton, once faced a similar situation and failed to do my duty. In life, I, like Clinton, embraced "progressive" ideals, seeking to modernize Japan and bring my nation into the 20th century. When Japan was defeated in World War II, I chose a course of compromise, accepting the Allied terms of surrender instead of dying honorably for my homeland, as the conservatives in my government demanded. After the war, I abolished the mandatory emperor-worship of State Shinto and publically repudiated my divinity. I even allowed my eldest son, the Crown Prince Akihito, to marry a commoner of ignoble birth, betraying 1,500 years of tradition!

I, who could have died gloriously of hari-kiri rather than surrender to the hated gaijin, instead lived out my final years as a meaningless figurehead, devoting most of my hours to a trifling interest in oceanography! I brought shame and disgrace upon my ancestors and my nation! But now, condemned to walk the Earth for all eternity wrapped in chains and rags, I have learned the error of my ways. I now know that the conservatives were right all along. Hear me, Clinton! I, the ghost of Hirohito, Emperor Of All Japan, say to you this: Do not make the same mistake I did! Commit ritual hari-kiri now and restore honor to your race!

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