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In This Issue

• Forever Remember, or Else
• 8 Bits of Subliminal NES Perversion
• Letters to the Editor
• $$$ for Golden Showers
• Caliente Cab: Giving Your Stomach the Bad Touch
• My Date with the Fed: So Hot it Set 620 on Fire
• The Absolute Worst of First-Year Quotations
• Get Your Smack At the SmackTastic Supa-Store
• Sleep with Your Professors
• Tired of the Same Old Masturbation Techniques?
• Hentai: Your Mother Is Crying up in Heaven
• Beefcake! Beefcaaaake!
• NSOP Uber Alles

Despite all the surrounding hoopla, Wednesday's first anniversary of the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks really didn't seem like such a big deal. Sure, there were all sorts of very sad dignitaries at various, very sad ceremonies reading long, very sad lists of names, and plenty of brilliantly creative but very sad tele-journalism pieces with some very sad violins in the background, but overall, it was business as usual. There was school, work, and a New York Post headline attempting to persuade you that Rudy Guiliani, far from being a near-fascist ex-mayor, is actually a highly attuned spiritual intermediary to some sort of Valhalla for the souls of dead public service employees.

The problem was, we weren't allowed to do anything special. Some argued that taking any time or energy out of your daily business would be akin to "letting the terrorists win." This is a very nearly unassailable argument; however, if we really want to show the terrorists who's-yo-daddy, why stop at merely going about our daily routines? There are plenty of little adjustments, just a sampling of which I'll share here, that each person could make in order to really make a difference in the war on terrorism on future 9/11's, or any other day.

The first step, as President Bush recognized last fall, with the help of dozens of advisors, many of whom have also had children, is to cut off the terrorists' allowance. This money comes from three sources: opium, gasoline, and carpeting. The carpeting money is easy; as our proletariat has known for fifty years, real Americans use linoleum.

The opium business could be attacked by a new wave of War on Drugs advertisements with a slightly revised focus: rather than using ineffective scare tactics and flat-out lies to steer children away from all drugs, the new advertisements would focus on socially responsible drug purchases. Children and teens would be encouraged to use only marijuana grown on hormone-free family-basement farms, acid from local mom-and-pop chemist/entrepreneurs, and Ecstasy made with good old-fashioned American scientific know-how, rather than impersonal, corporate-ruled, sweatshop-produced foreign poppy products.

If this campaign goes well and fosters a new era of government-drug addict cooperation, perhaps all those hippie kids could be convinced of the patriotic value of improved personal hygiene. It is obvious from pictures of the September 11 hijackers that they rarely, if ever, shaved, showered or combed their hair. It probably would have been much more difficult for them to sneak into the country undetected if they didn't fit the profile of Phish fans so perfectly. As the terrorists cleverly surmised, no airport security figure will brave the Patchouli Jungle for the sake of a pointy piece of metal

The oil question is the most difficult; Americans don't want to drive small cars because of the proven link between vehicular power and phallic girth, and buses and trains often have highly unpleasant odors, as well as overly eager fellatio providers. However, Americans could take the first step to ending reliance on foreign oil by buying only water-based lube products (this plan even comes with the approval of your high school sex ed teacher: it's condom-safe!).

The biggest problem with making September 11 into a holiday of any sort is that Liberals will seize on the idea and try to make it some kind of "Diversity Tolerance Day". No one needs more of that touchy-feely crap. But perhaps as a concession to them, we should show our understanding of Islamic culture for a day by observing their most basic commandment, "Thou shalt at all times wear a humorous piece of headgear."

Finally, just in case you are ever in a situation facing certain and imminent death in a terrorist attack, there's one last favor you can do for Uncle Sam, especially if you're fortunate enough to have a documented history of mental illness. Quickly grab a pen, scrawl out an ‘in sound mind and body' note stating that you are taking your own life, spell out in great detail a reason completely unrelated to your actual impending cause of death, and place the note securely in a fireproof box. If it is found in the aftermath of the attack and the coroner rules your death a suicide, then your family (who you probably don't like much anyway) will have no right to demand restitution from the government. Our tax dollars can stay right pat where they belong, in a big fund that covers lots of congressional junkets to Acapulco.