You Are Dumb - Great Britain

Jolly Old Dumbasses

Sun, 15 Jul 2007 22:27:32 -0500

The News, 16 July 2007

Memo to the BBC Magazine: FECK OFF, ARSEHOLES.

Of all the comedy in the world, no comedy is more irritating than your basic, standard-issue gender stereotype comedy. The instant the phrase "What are you thinking, honey" leaves a comedian's lips, you know you are in the presence of Hackery Supreme, and should remove yourself from the premises posthaste. And it's your own goddamned fault for tuning in to the Bill Engvall Show in the first place.

Which was why it was so goddamned maddening to see all the news stories that seized on some stupid study that analyzed how much women and men talked. Turns out they talk about the same amount, which came as a surprise to anyone who's never watched Bill O'Reilly. But that didn't stop the BBC from taking the 546-word difference per day and, using that dry British wit of theirs, suggest what some of those 500 words were that birds used while blokes eschewed. It's an awful premise, made ineffably worse by the execution, which featured such entries as:

"Accessorise: If men were ever to use this word it would only be in the context of cars." Here's an important comedy tip. I cannot stress this enough. I don't care which side of the Atlantic you're on, if your comedy premise is a list of words women use and men don't, it's a BAD IDEA to start your list with a word that you have to make an exception for.

Burlesque. Well, first of all, NOBODY uses "burlesque" anymore outside of its specific cultural context. But back when burlesque was a going concern, you know, in olden days when you had to leave your house to see nipples, it was a form of entertainment aimed squarely at men. So I'm not even sure why it's in this list at all, unless it has something to do with that goddamned "Moulin Rouge" movie.

Pomegranate. What the fuck? The BBC uses the excuse that real men can't grasp the concept of "superfoods", which is just sad. I mean, assuming you made the awful choice to go with "pomegranate" to begin with, for fuck's sake, it's a reddish-pink sack full of seeds that exists solely to be PULPED AND JUICED. If you can't find a way to make a male insecurity joke out of that, you have no business trying to be funny in print.

Conventionally attractive HA HA AVERAGE WOMEN ARE JEALOUS OF AND THEREFORE HATE PRETTY WOMEN HA HA.

What are you thinking? I mention this not to knock down the pin I set up in the second paragraph. No, I mention this because, well, this is four words. And thanks to the magic of counting, I have determined that the author of the piece does in fact count this as four of the 46 words women use that men don't. Which is another epic failure of premise. I can suspend my disbelief long enough to see how men might use neither "conventionally" or "attractive", for example, as separate words OR as a phrase. Applying that same logic to the words "what", "are", and "you"? Not so much. And certainly not for a joke that's as saggy and worn out as the Queen's panties.

"Afghanistan: A place where the debate is rather starker". Um, I hate to use up my "what the fuck" quota this early in the week, but what the fuck? This doesn't parse as comedy, so all I can figure is it's a horribly injected bit of social commentary. A sort of "hey, we're all having a bit of a laugh about gender differences, but let's all take a moment to remember that things are really bad for women in some parts of the world, and that's why women mention those parts of the world and men never do. All right. HEY, MEN HATE BABIES! HA HA HA!"

Ms. and feminism. Because, you know. It may not be 1972 right now, but it's 1972 somewhere, right?

I was THIS close to giving the BBC credit for avoiding one of the most trite, bullshit tropes of gender stereotype comedy. I even did a search to make sure the word didn't appear ANYWHERE in the article. But then, in mid-kudo, I noticed the illustration that accompanied the piece. If a picture is worth a thousand words, all 1,000 of those words were "shoes". Congratulations, BBC-Magazine-writers-too-ashamed-to-attach- your-names-to-this-piece. You left no lame, sad-ass, moronic stone unturned.

Circle, Meet Jerks

Thu, 03 Nov 2005 07:50:05 -0600

Great Britain, 3 November 2005

Memo to the Diana Circle: YOU ARE DUMB.

But that doesn't mean true, princessy love is beyond your grasp. I have an idea, but you'll have to wade through a bunch of mockery of your life's work to get to it. But isn't enduring great hardship for the common good the kind of thing you like to pretend your idol stood for?

You see, the Diana Circle is a small organization of completely bugfuck Princess Diana fan-nerds. It's precisely the kind of thing you knew had to exist somewhere, but like plushies, your brain tries to block them out so you don't learn the horrific details.

But here at You Are Dumb Dot Net, your willful, sanity-preserving ignorance will not be tolerated. In pursuit of that goal, I found the homepage of their US chapter. And though the 1996-era design, complete with tiled background, giant centered text, and awkwardly-positioned, oversized pictures did melt my face like Toht looking at the contents of the Ark, I managed to return with their mission statement. ACTUAL QUOTE TIME!

"Our mission is to uphold and defend Diana's memory and reputation. To campaign tirelessly for a fitting memorial in her name. To support our partners in other parts of the world in the quest to do what is right for a woman who did so much good for others."

The Diana Circle first made headlines during the wedding of Charles and Camilla, which they protested. Interviewed at the time, Circle member Laurien Lewis made the astonishing statement that " If she were still with us today, she would have been very moved." I think we can all see the flaw in that logic.

Anyway, the Circle continues to treat Camilla as if she were the Mike to Diana's Joel, the Doggett to Diana's Mulder, the world's first royal Dick Sargent. Which brings us to current events, and Charles & Camilla's visit to the US, and the actual protests of the actual visit by actual Diana Circle US members, which in turn leads to this ACTUAL QUOTE TIME!

"This is Diana country. We love Diana still. They're not welcome here. To look at the both of them is to remember what they did to Diana." - Lisa Stewart, 35-year-old Tampa homemaker, who apparently fancies herself the British Royalty Consultant for the Arizona Minutemen.

You know, even under the Patriot Act, I'm pretty sure that cheating on your wife, then waiting almost a decade after your wife's death to marry your mistress, is not grounds for deportation from America. It's not like Camilla wrote "Peace Train" or anything.

But I promised the Circle true love, and I will deliver. Because here, in this very country, is a group of desperate men, equally devoted to pointless protests for a retarded cause. The Protest Warriors. If we can get the Protest Warriors and the Circle of Diana hooked up, not only will both groups have less free time on their hands, but their eventual offspring will be so simultaneously obsessive and ineffective that they'll be mistaken for ugly footrests and given to Goodwill.

It's a fairy-tale happy ending, really.

Putting The Pud In Liverpudlian

Wed, 02 Nov 2005 08:31:23 -0600

Great Britain, 2 November 2005

Memo to Liverpool, England: YOU ARE DUMB.

Sorry, but that's the last of the goodwill you get from us over here for spawning the Beatles. You people have taken embryo-fetishism to a level almost unmatched in our own pigfucker nation. I'd say unmatched, but, you know. We got Sam Alito as a SCOTUS nominee this week, so we still edge you out by a nose.

But Liverpool comes close. Last week, dozens of local citizens brought flowers, cards, notes, and little stuffed animals to a back alley where, just recently, the police had been called to investigate a tiny corpse found there.

The scene was heartwrenching. The grief was profound. The corpse was a chicken fetus.

The person who found it apparently thought it was a human fetus, which somehow pulled a Wombdini and expired in the alley. Police were notified, word spread amongst the public, the human instinct for gratuitous tragedy kicked in, and voila. A shrine to an omelette.

Unfortunately, the British press has failed to provide me with wonderful quotes from weeping residents as they lay down their bouqets for the poor little McNugget, with one exception - a card left behind that says it all, really. ACTUAL CHICKEN FETUS CARD TIME!

"RIP Little Baby. Safe in the arms of Jesus. From someone who is a loving mother xxxx."

I can only assume the x's on the end aren't meant to represent Liverpudlian chicken-scratchings, but rather, four loving pecks from a mother to a lump of dessicated poultryplasm. It's good to know that the chicken is in the arms of Jesus, but I'm not sure "safe" is the right word, especially if Jesus gets a little peckish. I'm guessing the Son of God knows all eleven of the Colonel's secret herbs and spices.

What I love best about the story is one lone report that states despite the police telling everyone it's a chicken, "rumours persist in Anfield schools, pubs and in taxis that it was a baby dumped by its mother". That is, of course, classic human stupidity in action.

People who would otherwise not spend five minutes questioning authority when authority tells them that, say, Iraq has WMD, or that the guy shot in a London subway was wearing a bulky jacket with wires sticking out of it, suddenly decide the word of the police is no good when they tell folks they just dropped a teddy bear off to comfort a chicken corpse. And why bring a teddy bear, anyway? If they'd brought fries and a drink, at least then we could make a Happy Meal.

For that matter, the whole "leaving little trinkets and ribbons at the tragedy site" thing is starting to get out of hand. Yes, I know these little mourning rituals serve to help a community deal with their grief, but even assuming it had been a human fetus, just because you happen to live near something awful happening doesn't mean you have to leave a bunch of crap behind for someone else to clean up. Remember. If you don't give a hoot, you won't pollute.

Sure, it's the wrong kind of bird, but unlike Liverpool, at least I got the class right.

Buerk Is Ready To Get It On

Mon, 22 Aug 2005 10:57:28 -0500

The News, 22 August 2005

Memo to Michael Buerk: YOU ARE DUMB.

You know, on first glance, it often seems that England has it better than we do. Their right-wing leader-fuck isn't as dumb as our right-wing leader-fuck. Their version of The Office is better than our version. They don't have a Tennessee.

And while they do occasionally gun down an innocent Brazilian on the subway who, contrary to initial reports, wasn't actually wearing a bulky jacket, didn't actually jump the turnstile, and, er, didn't actually run from police, but rather bought a ticket, grabbed a newspaper, and took his seat, it could be worse. After all, none of their prominent news anchors got caught with a vibrator in one hand and a cell-phone in the other.

They do, however, have Michael Buerk, And while I'm sure Buerk would never use a cell-phone to force phone-sex on a woman, he might be able to match Bill O'Reilly in the crazy-ranty department.

Buerk seems to be feeling a bit threatened by women, you see. I'm not sure when it started. Maybe it was when that Icelandic elf stole his name. But apparently, both personally and professionally, Buerk has decided that those pesky women have too much power. ACTUAL QUOTE TIME!

"Life is lived in accordance with women's rules... The result is men are becoming more like women." - Buerk, who admittedly, has a point. It's only womens' insistence on being paid less and kept down in the workplace that makes the whole situation tolerable at all, really.

Buerk is appearing on a show called "Don't Get Me Started", which apparently is a bit like this column, only with a classier accent. Prominent Brits come on and vent their spleens, and Buerk decided to vent his spleen about the current "femocracy" in which the role of man is to be a sperm donor.

As evidence for his claim, he cited metrosexuals, thereby not only proving himself an asshole, but a hopelessly out of date asshole. Metrosexuals, men using moisturizer, David Beckham... all examples of how the rise of women has taken the "man" out of... um, "man".

But wait! Not all of his proof is rooted in sweaty soccer players who fuck Posh Spice. "Almost all the big jobs in broadcasting were held by women - the controllers of BBC One television and Radio 4 for example. These are the people who decide what we see and hear." - He says "were", because both of those women have since been replaced. By men. No word yet on whether either of the men use moisturizer.

One good thing about this is that it proves our two countries aren't as different as we think. Get caught in print saying something stupid, and the defense is the same. I didn't say that, and when I -did- say it, I didn't mean it in a BAD way. ACTUAL STIFF UPPER LIP TIME!

"In my experience, women are more efficient and caring in the workplace. It is absurd to generalise." - Um, OK. Thanks for clearing that up.

"I am trying to convey that masculinity is becoming unfashionable and that traditional male values, such as courage, risk-taking and single-mindedness can be seen as dysfunctional... This isn't necessarily a bad thing but some of the more masculine traits have led to some of the world's greatest achievements and the trend in society currently is to move away from those traits."

See? All this femming-up is fine, just fine. It's not a bad thing, it just leads to cowardice and dithering, and if it hadn't been for all the manly men now being "ruined" by women, we wouldn't be where we are today.

I'd love to discuss the incredible dominance of women some more, but I have to go. Gonna stop by Hooters, pick up some Tag body spray, then swing by Borders and grab that Ed Klein book where he proves Hillary is a lesbo.

Other Countries Are Stupid Too, Sometimes

Thu, 11 Aug 2005 13:19:54 -0500

Main Column, 11 February 2005

You know, there's a lot to hate about living in this country at this time. Fundamentalists on the rampage, idiocy on the airwaves, the absolute horrifying certainty that "Hitch" will be number one at the box office come Monday... if only there were one shining beacon of hope that could get us all through the weekend.

Oh, wait! Here's one. NONE OF US LIVE IN ENGLAND RIGHT NOW.

We here at Yankees Are Dumb Dot Net would like to extend our warmest sympathies to our readers across the pond, as you gear up for what will surely be a minimum of two months of rampant, full-barrel idiocy over the Charles/Camilla thing.

I mean, even the faint whiff we've gotten over here in the first day is enough to make me long for the quiet innocence of American stupidity, where a fake reporter for a right-wing website gets a White House press pass under a false name so he can ask softball questions containing made-up quotes from the mouth of Rush Limbaugh to a President who can barely write his own name in crayon. We may be deeply fucked up, but at least we come by our fuckedupness honestly, through graft, corruption, and high levels of lead in our water supply. The British have to rely on inbreeding and the last vestiges of monarchy to send their entire country into a spasm of retarded activity.

The way I understand it (which may be different from what actually happened, I admit) is that Prince Charles married Diana Spencer in an attempt to create archival news footage that would outlast the pyramids and "Frampton Comes Alive" in longevity and ubiquitousness. At the same time, Diana was probably banging a guy named Hewitt, and Charles was seeing* Camilla Parker Bowles on the side

At some point during that time, it was revealed that Charles' idea of saucy romance was to wish he could be a tampon and crawl up Ms. Bowles' cooter. Then Chuck and Di got divorced, presumably because they hated each other and let's face it, the tampon thing is really fuckin' creepy to this day. I mean, what prominent American public figures could admit to identifying strongly with a plastic applicator and still do charity work? Besides Michael Jackson. And Dick Cheney.

So anyway, Charles and Diana went their separate ways, until eight years ago, when one of those separate ways dead-ended in a concrete bridge pillar, and then only one of them went his separate way, which apparently involved continuing his relationship with Camilla into the menopause years, at which point Charles was forced, as a victim of biology, to begin ardently wishing he were an adult diaper. And then, yesterday, they announced they'd be getting married in April.

This announcement threw England into an uproar, forcing it to answer the eternal question of whether it's OK for old ugly rich famous people to do stuff that the rest of us have been doing for decades - having affairs, marrying divorcees, remarrying after our wives are chased to their doom by paparazzi... I believe it's ACTUAL NOT TEA TIME BUT RATHER QUOTE TIME!

"It just seems a bit hypocritical that she could be on the throne when she had an affair with Charles while he was married to Diana. I think (the marriage) could cause quite a lot of problems. And why so quickly? Why did they not say they would get married next summer?" - Rita Tremain, who is one of over five hundred thousand average citizens who were asked their opinion by journalists in the first three hours after the announcement.

I think it's incredibly merciful for there to be such a short engagement. If the media coverage is anything to go by, the sooner it's over, the better. Will she be Queen? Should she be Queen? Will she be Queen but not be -called- Queen? What will she be called? Replace "Queen" with "Princess of Wales", rinse, repeat.

You know who I feel bad for? Kim Jong Il. Gets named to the Axis of Evil, sure, but then we invade Iraq because of nuclear weapons they didn't have. Now we're talking about bombing Iran for nuclear weapons they may or may not have. Meanwhile, when North Korea finally comes out and tells the world "HEY! WE HAVE NUCLEAR WEAPONS, DAMMIT!", the story is completely overshadowed by two middle-aged Brits who've been humping for a couple of decades deciding to tie the knot. That's gotta rankle.

So enjoy your media frenzy for the next eight weeks or so, England. And don't worry. Around the time Charles and Camilla have been whisked away to their Highland honeymoon, we'll proably be gearing up for the Bill Cosby drug-and-grope trial, and you can go back to feeling justifiably superior, at least until the next costume party.

*I did TRY to use the verb "banging" here as well, but something about that word associating with Prince Charles makes my brain want to fill in all its wrinkles and convolutions with Fimo and then bake itself into a smooth, slightly quivering mass.

N <= (1172 + X) British Citizens

Fri, 19 Aug 2005 12:45:06 -0500

Main Column, 7 April 2004

Memo to upwards of 1172 Britons. YOU ARE DUMB.

Actually, we need to add in an unspecified number to that, but we'll get to that in a bit.

It's all the fault of an odd little study in Britain, which involved interviewing 2,069 people and quizzing them on various historic or fictional people and events to see which ones the interviewees thought were real and which they thought were fake. From this, we can determine that Jay Leno could have a career waiting for him as a British sociological researcher if he ever stops being the last person not to realize he isn't funny.

It's an important exercise in doofus-hunting, though, and the results were astonishing in two ways.

The first group of astonishing results were, for example, 57% of respondents believing that King Arthur was real. * Or 38% thinking that Genghis Khan was fictional. Or a situationally whopping six percent who believed the Martian invasion from War of the Worlds actually happened.

Now, some of this you can understand and excuse. The phrase "Battle of the Bulge" has been co-opted so extensively by the dieting world that it's not entirely disheartening when 52% think of that first, instead of World War II. Heck, the 63% disbelieving in "Ethelred the Unready King of England 978 to 1016" makes enough sense to me that I didn't use it for the number in the first line.

But come on. 27% of the respondents thinking Robin Hood was real? ** They should have asked how many people also thought he was an anthropomorphic fox. 32% thinking the Cold War was fictional? Barring some peculiar political statement, that leaves over 650 Britons with their heads up their asses. Which I'd think would make all the Arsenal chants muffled, but I don't really follow the football.

Unfortunately, the precise number of British morons was not determined by the news story about the study, as it completely failed to count THE RESEARCHERS.

The following answers were stated by just one percent of respondents: Edmund Blackadder: REAL. Xena: REAL. Apes rule Earth (a la Planet of the Apes: REAL. The defeat of humanity by cyborgs in Battlestar Galactica: REAL. And two percent said the Battle of Endor was real.

What kind of crap sociologists are these? I don't have a degree in anything, but I guarantee you if you pick 2,069 people at random ANYWHERE in the First World, you're gonna hit 20 or so geeks. And geeks will fuck up surveys for comedy. There are twenty guys in Britain even as we speak who have been waiting for MONTHS for the survey results to be made public, just so they can snicker at the Blackadder thing. Does nobody else remember "putting Jedi on the census"?

Note that of the real people and events, the lowest percentage was nine percent for Winston Churchill. That's gotta all be idiocy, because I don't think you could find 187 people who'd think Fake Winston Churchill is funny if you tried to do it on purpose.

Of course, this theory does present one conundrum. The 62 people who claimed the Battle of Helm's Deep actually happened. I, for one, am torn. As "The Passion" has shown us, people will believe all kinds of stuff in movies actually happened. But at the same time, Lord of the Rings nerdage is near its cultural peak, the Geek Survey Joke Theorem could account for all 62 of them. I'd have to see the interviews themselves to be sure. I mean, if you've got people saying that "Oh, that definitely happened, except for the bit where the blond guy rode down the stairs on his shield, I suspect they threw that in for dramatic effect"... that actually wouldn't settle it either way, now that I think about it.

So, what have we learned? We've learned that British historians, having visited all the castles and read all the scrolls a couple dozen times already, are getting bored. We've learned that there actually was a dude named Ethelread the Unready. We've leraned that geeks amuse easily. And I've learned that I'd better wrap this up soon, as Imperious Leader has demanded my presence. By your command.

* Don't. I know you want to, but don't. Stop composing the e-mail in your head. You know the one I mean. Don't play innocent. The one where you compile obscure evidence from webpages and books and Discovery Channel specials to point out that King Arthur was sorta kinda based on this one dude who REALLY LIVED in the ancient times and that's the guy they're basing that new movie on, you know, the one where Kiera Knightley wears blue paint and two strategic pieces of leather. Don't do it. We'll both feel better in the morning.

** I SAID DON'T.