Art Kumbalek in Spring Flowers
I’m Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz what a world, ain’a? So listen, you may recall from a year ago what I had to say about this fifth month of the year we call May.
Remember?
… it’s now the month of May belonging to the year 2024, the so-called “merry,” or perhaps “lusty” month as energetically sung whenever you go to sit through a musical production of the historically hodgepodge of a fock Camelot inside your local high school’s lunch room ’cause your kid has been cast for some unfathomable reason, or community theater effort performed in the danky basement of the local church where Sir Lancelot is your next-door dork neighbor whose ability to carry a tune in a bucket is ferkakta and it’s the bucket you borrowed him months ago that the fockstick has yet to return, what the fock.
C’est moi, the one to remind you’s to flip your calendar page from April showers to May flowers, one of the three months we have that can be enunciated with one syllable, caveman style, I kid you not.
History is so cool, unless maybe you reside in Florida, Texas or Ala-focking-bama these days ’cause I got a feeling that the goofball white-guy legislators wannabe in charge of the education systems for the young people just might have a problem with a word like “syllable”—“Fellow patriots, a ‘syllable’ sounds to me like some kind of outfit one of those so-called men who’d rather be women would squeeze into to put on some kind of dancing show dolled up like a regular Carol Channing or Bea-focking-Arthur. We will not tolerate these woke ‘syllables’ in our schools, libraries and general conversation. God bless America”
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Good lord, a drag “syllable” show that might feature a cross-dressed Carol Channing, Bernadete Peters or Bea-focking-Arthur? Cripes, tell me where I can get a ticket. I’ll be there, what the fock.
But yes indeed, it’s now factually May 2025, so the experts say, but can you believe them, these “experts” what with their “facts”? Beats me. I guess that’s why we got Trumpel-thinskin and the Musky-odor running the geek show as they pull away their MAGA curtain to reveal that there are no “experts,” no “facts” in their manufactured universe of a reality they bought and try to sell. Or something like that.
Believe it or have faith, it’s May on your calendar: chock-focking-full of memorable calendar dates: International Workers’ Day, Cinco de Mayo, Memorial Day, Miles Davis’ birthday and Mother’s Day, which reminds me of Oscar Wilde who said: All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That’s his. O-Wilde, you be the man still to this day, you betcha.
This May also notches 39 years of me whipping out brain-jarring essays from off the top of my head for this news and entertainment empire called the Shepherd. Thank you for my service. But I could abso-focking-lutely pony up to a new challenge: Chief editor and correspondent of the “science section” this publication so sorely needs for the enlightenment of its readers, I kid you not.
For christ sakes, the discipline of science has been getting crucified by Christian and Republican nutbags for some time, and I say it’s high time that “The observation, identification, description, experimental investigation and theoretical explanation of natural phenomena” (i.e. “the criticism of myths”) gets some ink spewed from an objective source, like me, ain’a?
Cripes, I’d never run out of material, and I’d make sure to craft my coverage nice and lively if not dang near practical, to boot. It wouldn’t at all be like the butt-boring science they tried to cram down your throat in school ’til you could barf lunch’s pigs-in-a-blanket, no sir. I’d give you “who’s hot/who’s not” on the latest Periodic Table, photos with captions on anatomy, cutting-edge info on the science of statistics you could use on your next Vegas junket.
And naturally, there’s “political science.” The old-fart Greek Aristotle wrote, “Therefore, the good of man must be the end (i.e. objective) of the science of politics.” Hey, nice try, Ari. But simple observation has surely proved you were full of crap on that one. I never bought the term “political science.” Combining something so foul with something so pure always sounded like bullshit to me, but of course if “politics” is involved, what the hell else could it sound like? You tell me.
And then I’ll tell you’s to keep your eyes to the sky ’cause that’s where heaven’s supposed to be, what the fock, ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.
