There’s no use wishing Kim Jong-Il will rest in peace, because that would be the farthest thing from justice this or any other world could perpetrate. If it weren’t such a long walk, I’d put my dancing shoes on for this. Instead, in keeping with my new mantle of professionalism, I have decided to make this exclusive photojournalism report on Kim Jong-Il‘s journey to Antenora, the Second Round of the Ninth Circle of Hell. First, let’s remember the Beloved Leader as he was in life:
Yep, that’s pretty much it. Now direct to our exclusive coverage, featuring pix from those intrepid photogs over at the World’s Suddenly Least Purposeful Blog, KimJongIlLookingAtThings.
Jack Layton's immortal words are right there in orange and white
RIP, Jack: one of the greats is gone. You would have been an awesome Prime Minister, and you put that kitten-whoring robot who’s serving as Fuhrer in fear of his political life!
I know what I’ll be drinking tomorrow: The Layton: orange crush and jack!
Before he left, Jack Layton wrote Canada a letter, and never was there better proof that the man held his country foremost in his thoughts and close to his heart. Here it is:
Jack Layton's Letter to Canada
Jack Layton's Letter 2
Artist Stuart Thursby has translated some of Jack’s words into the powerful art you see at the top of this post, as well as others you can download from his site (he continues to update the site with new works). (via Tris Hussey)
And here, because not everything in memory of a man like that can be somber, are the song stylings of Jack “Party for Sale or Rent” Layton. And if you despair of human nature, look at the comments on the YouTube page: that man’s power of nobility is such that it even inspired YouTubers to behave with grace.
Paul the Octopus had his troubles with the paparazzi
Oh, Paul, we hardly knew ye. Let’s toast the Great One‘s memory with an Octopus’s Garden (otherwise known as an un-dry 3:1 Gin Martini with an Octopus and Olive garnish) and join in a rousing chorus of “Paul the Octopus.”
Before the World Cup, Paul’s powers were already known in Germany because he had correctly predicted four out of Germany’s five matches in the 2008 European Championship. But his clean sheet this year has made him immortal.
He helped to make the World Cup memorable. Just like everyone will remember the 2006 tournament in Germany for Zinedine Zidane’s astounding head butt, and the 1986 one in Mexico for Maradona’s “Hand of God” goal against England, South Africa will forever be associated with an octopus.
If he really was born in 2008, then Paul was nearing the end of his natural life. Octopuses only live three years on average and he was never going to be around for the next European Championship in 2012, let alone the World Cup in Brazil in 2014.But here is some comfort for football fans. “Behind the scenes, a young Paul is already acclimatizing himself, he was meant to be trained by Paul the First in the coming weeks,” aquarium officials said.
Fellow sea creatures will also benefit from his immortality in future. Oberhausen said it plans to donate some of its income from the sale of commercial rights relating to Paul — he adorns a clothes brand and adverts for a supermarket chain, for example — to help finance a rescue station for endangered turtles on the Greek island of Zakynthos.
In related news, file this necronautical cephalopod under “People who have (or had) way better jobs than you.” According to PopBitch, he was getting $80,000 per appearance at the time he died. In fact, he’s got a better job than Lindsay Lohan even though he’s dead: she lost her clothing line, and he’s still got his!
In related to related news, ain’t no way Germans are as smart as Wiartonians; when Wiarton Willie died, Wiarton just hushed it up in best Small Town Shirley Jackson Unspeakable Truth fashion and got themselves a new albino groundhog on the black albino groundhog market. If Germany had gone out and gotten a new octopsychic, very few people on the planet would have known the difference. I’m just sayin’, next time they should hire me as their cephalostrategic consultant.
In related to related to related news, who really thinks that a nine-year-old, healthy, coddled octopus with no prior history of ill-health suddenly kicks the bukkit? Not me, and probably not you either, if you’re a smartie, and I think you are because: look! you’re here! Do I sense the sneaky padding of meerkat paws behind the assassination? Did they test Pulpo Paul for Polonium?
