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In This Issue

• DeLovely? DeLorean.
• What Would Future You Do?
• What Are Your Plans For That Junk?
• Letters to the Editors
• The Adventures of Young Boy and Park Girl in 4-D
• Hipsters Remember Awkward Tweens at Brooklyn Bar
• You Can Call Me Ishmael Anytime
• Oh, Take Me Over Awkwardly
• People Know Me. Cool People.
• Not Even Time Thwarts Yo Mama
• I Plan To Own The Future
• How to Write Love Poems for Girls Who Can Read
• Lies My Robots Told Me
• My Ears Are Bleeding! Wait, That's Just My Vagina.
• Veritas Forum Takes Stand Against Death
• Too Jewish to Play Ska?
• Damned Interface Technology!
• The Church of Timeology
• THEY WATCH
• The Staff of 21.5

Russell Spitzer

Your mom is so dumb that she has to go to seminars about how dumb she is. And she smells like poo.

Shaina Rubin

I know what’s on your mind.  Really, I do.  You’re thinking about the future.  And you’re thinking about “your mom” jokes.  How do I know this?  I time traveled 10 minutes into the future and asked you what you were thinking about 10 minutes ago.  You were thinking about the future and “your mom” jokes 10 minutes before 10 minutes from now.  You were thinking those things because you had been reading this article.

    But enough explanation.  Obviously, the question on your mind is this: What will be the evolution of “your mom” jokes in the next say, fifty years?  Well, I can tell you this as well.  To investigate, I had to time travel a little more than 10 minutes into the future.  And by “a little” I mean 49 years, 364 days, 23 hours, and 50 minutes.

    In the future, the biting sting of “your mom” jokes reaches a point at which people are trembling in their apartments, afraid to even leave their places of residence for fear of being viciously attacked by something as scathingly illuminating as “Your mom is so fat that when she sits around the house, she sits AROUND the house!” or “Your mom is so wrinkly that she screws her clothes on!”

    And it’s understandable.  Who would want to live in a world where all you can think is about your own mother’s deficiencies, as they are pointed out by others who humiliate her with their evil laughing faces?  Not me, that’s who!  But that’s why an incredible innovation will be created: the pre-emptive “My mother” joke.

    Let me explain.  Say that I walk outside and immediately fear that someone might hit me with “Your mom is so stupid that she got locked in a grocery store and starved to death!”  Well, before that jerk even has a chance to let slip those metaphorical dogs of war, I shout out, “My mother is so smart that she got a 1600 on the ACT!”  See?

    It’s kind of like in “8 Mile” where Eminem pre-empts all the other guy’s insults by insulting himself.  The only differences are that it’s about your mom, not you, that you pre-empt with glory rather than self-insult, and that it has no direct temporal relation to a scene in which Eminem and Brittany Murphy have creepy sex in a warehouse.  Oh, and Eminem sucks.  I wasn’t really sure how to fit that in there, but he does.

    Now that you understand the concept of “My mother” jokes, let me give you a sampling of MOTHER JOKES FROM THE FUTURE!

    My mother is so physically fit that she takes the long way on marathons.

    My mother is so punctual that they set the Greenwich atomic clock by HER.

    My mother is so chaste that my existence is proof of Immaculate Conception.

    My mother is so straight that she would not even have lesbian sex with Angelina Jolie.

    My mother is so acceptably good-looking for a middle-aged woman that if it were not for her intelligent and condescendingly motherly stare (which indicates the aforementioned chastity) she would frequently get propositioned by people she did not even know.

    My mother’s skin is so smooth that I use its flakes to wax my skis.

    My mother is so well-dressed that she, um, wears nice clothes.

    My mother is so rich that she is rich, not only in money, but also in friends.

    My mother is so nice that all my floormates love her because she sends me cookies but usually I don’t really feel like eating cookies so I end up giving them to all my floormates and that is the only reason I have friends. So even though I am not actually eating them, keep sending me cookies. I love you mom!!!

    My mother is so lucky that her son wrote an article called “My Mother Is A Saint.”

    There is, however, one problem with me delivering this information to you.  Now people will be aware of the existence of pre-emptive “My mother” jokes before pre-emptive “My mother” jokes even exist!  I am worried that this may cause a phenomenon of pre-pre-emptive jokes. I posit that after this is published, a recursive loop of meta-ness will occur, because people will know about the jokes that they are trying to stop with the jokes that people know about and are trying to stop with the jokes that people know about and are trying to stop and over and over and over times infinity!  I worry that after publication, we may encounter this:

    Your mom is so wrong that she both believes the earth is flat and said to my mother, “You are so wrong that you both think that you can cross-multiply scalars and said to me, ‘You are so wrong that you both think that Alexander Hamilton was president and said to me, “You are so wrong that you both think ‘Thomas Equinus’ would be a good name for a horse and said to me, ‘You are so wrong that you think…’”’””’”’’”’”’’”””””

    And on and on forever!  The worst part is how to punctuate it at the end; goddamn, I lost track of all those.  However, because I have pointed out the undesirable quality of this recursive joke, I predict that this article will negate the recursive link it would have otherwise started, and “Your mom” jokes will stay in the format we know and love.