Antler Time
"Alright, soldiers, is everybody having a good
time? <spirited applause> That was Team Sleep tearing it up, here at
another USO Partython Thursday. Whoo hoo! Team Sleep, their first album will
be out later next month. Now before we get to tonight's headliner, the
lovely and talented Martina McBride <cheers>, we've got a surprise guest for
you. Ladies and Gentlemen, put your rifles down and prepare to give it up
for a man who needs no introduction, the Secretary of Defense, Mister Donald
Rumsfeld.<Cue music 'Antler Time' by
Rummy and the Rhinestones. Cheers and applause. Enter Rumsfeld stage left,
dark suit, fingers forward, and a swivel in his hip. Shouts of delight.
Before you know it, everyone is doing the Antler Dance, and the Baghdad dust
is filling the air. Rummy does a split on the final beat of 'Antler Time'
and the crowd goes wild.>
"Whew... thank you... let me catch my
breath... I'm not as young as I used to be... Okay. Whew... You know, I just
flew in from Washington, and boy are my arms tired. <laughs> Say, I just ran
into Martina backstage <cheers>, and I'll have to be honest. That is one
good looking broad. <hoots> And funny, too. She told me a little joke that
I'll share with you... What do you get when you play a country record
backwards?"
<shout> "What's a record?"
"A record? Oh my goodness, surely you've seen
a record before. They're round and made out of plastic..."
<grasping> "Like a Frisbee?"
"Much like a Frisbee in shape and size, but
records are black and have music on them..."
<still grasping> "A Frisbee can be black..."
"Yes, but a Frisbee doesn't have music on it.
I suppose that would be technologically feasible, but it would be
impractical due to the cost of re-engineering all of America's turntables."
<shout> "What's a turntable? Some kind of
weapon?"
"Oh my, no, although with some of the racket
out there - no disrespect to Team Sleep, who seem like a fine group of young
people - with some of that heavy metal and rap music it does have
weapon-like capabilities... Say, it occurs to me that many of you young
people may be familiar with the turntable if you listen to the rap music.
You know when the fellow takes the record - the round black thing - and puts
it on a device, and then rubs it back and forth to make those irritating
sounds... that's a turntable."
<sounds of waking cognitive awareness>
Scratching?
"Yes, exactly. So, what do you get when you
play a country record backwards on a turntable?"
<shout> "Who's the artist?"
"The artist? It doesn't, uh... the Oak Ridge
Boys. What do you get when you play a country record by the Oak Ridge Boys
backwards on a turntable?"
<guessing> Scratching?
"Well, yes, to some extent, although
scratching is more defined by the back and forth motion of the needle in the
groove then it is by the more linear technique of playing a record backwards
in it's entirety."
<Authoritatively> "Forgetting for a moment
all the technical jargon such as 'needle in the groove', if you were to play
this theoretical 'record' backwards, wouldn't you just get a bunch of
malarkey?"
"Heh, heh, I suppose that's true, although in
certain cases you might get a secret message, like 'Worship Satan' or 'Paul
is dead'."
<shout> "Paul who?"
"Paul McCartney. He was..."
<incredulous> "So now it's just Ringo?"
"No, Paul is still alive, I'm just providing
an example of an actual message that might be found if one were to play a
record backwards..."
<shout> "Bring on Martina!"
"We will get to Martina in all due time, but
for now, let us attempt to reach closure on this joke. Now can somebody
please tell me what you get when you play a country record by the Oak Ridge
Boys backwards on a turntable? No? There's no takers? Well, first you get
your job back, which is a sign of an expanding economy, and then you get
your wife back, and..."
<shout> "I don't have a wife!"
"Well of course you don't, being that as
you're a woman. But keep in mind that this is the Oak Ridge Boys we are
talking about, and as far as I know, they are all heterosexually inclined.
So they would get their jobs back, and their wives back, and their pickup
trucks back. Heh, heh."
<crickets>
"Whew. What a tough crowd. May the fleas of a
thousand camels buy time shares on your crotch. <laughs> Thank you... May
Abu Musab Zarqawi seek refuge beneath your mother's skirt. <big laughs>
Thank you, thank you... May a yak with a bladder condition take a liking to
your duffel bag. <howls> <cue 'Antler Time'> Goodnight everybody!" <cheers> |
