Monthly Archives: May 2015

The Real Issue with the Decline of the Humanities


The numbers don’t lie. Across the board, humanities majors at American universities are dying. At Stanford, a mere 15% of the undergraduate body devotes their time to studying the humanities, while the size of the English department at the University of Maryland has shrunk by 40% in a matter of three years.

While many critics argue that this shift erodes the integrity and depth of higher education, what does it mean for the working world? The answer may surprise you, then frighten you, and then surprise you again.

With the decline of the humanities, the United States is seeing a drastic shortage of sexy librarians.

sexy librarian

These days, the sad truth is that few students have the skill set to find beauty in Wuthering Heights, let alone to clumsily drop it and bend over to pick it up in a scandalously tight miniskirt. Go ahead and visit your local library or Barnes & Noble. You’ll find no scholarly sexpots there, just middle-aged crones with a thing for Nora Roberts and pastel sweatpants.

How will our next generation ever discover a love of reading without the guidance of a straight-laced young woman whose knowledge of literature is exceeded only by the size of her cleavage? I fear that many young people coming out of the current system lack the capacity for critical thought, nuanced communication, and chewing on the tips of their reading glasses. Today’s financial and consulting industries are all about mindless profit maximization, with no place for tight hair buns or furtive leers through a well-stocked bookshelf.

So the next time someone in your reading room tells you that English, History, and Philosophy majors are all useless, go ahead and shush them. A college education isn’t just about finding a job; it’s about grappling with what it means to be human, sort of like a really erotic mud-wrestling match. Maybe the STEM fields are in their heyday, but without respect for the liberal arts, life gets a lot less sexy.

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Is America Ready for a Female President Without a Face?

In our nation’s storied history, there have been 43 different people to hold the office of President of the United States. That’s quite a few. Yet, if you were to study each of their portraits, what would you notice? What singular feature seemingly defines this sacred position?

That’s right—every President ever has had a face.

In fact, Nixon had two of them.

In fact, Nixon had two of them.

It is nothing less than disturbing. What is it about having functional eyes, mouth, and nose that supposedly “qualifies” someone to hold office? Maybe it makes a candidate more conventionally attractive, but this fascist facism is really just holding us back.

Imagine, if you will, that our current commander-in-chief had all the best qualifications: a rich education, military service, and a solid track record across multiple stints in Congress. But here’s the catch. She also just happens to be a woman who, instead of a face, possesses a blank canvas of pale, unmoving flesh on the front of her skull. I see no problem there.

Faceless Hillary

Would her inability to make eye contact or speak beyond a series of muffled groans really affect her capacity to deal with foreign dignitaries or inspire the American people? No open-minded adult should mind that her pronunciation of “America” sounds like “mmm-mmm-MMM!” We’ve all heard Boston accents before.

Could you bear to watch her kiss babies at public events, rubbing the ice-cold skin of her featureless mandible against a bawling infant? Sounds pretty darn adorable to me. Would you be startled by the black, syrupy residue that congealed on her face after physical contact? If so, it’s time for a reality check.

Would it be really so disturbing if we never saw her eat in public, but rather she would retreat to the cellar twice a day with a live chicken, only to emerge hours later, completely naked and covered in blood? I say, “Save a drumstick for me, Madam President!”

We Americans simply have to drop our complacency with historical precedent and consider the merits of a different kind of leader. There would be undeniable advantages in having an American leader whose visage resembles a smooth chunk of challah bread. I doubt that the South would have had the guts to secede from a faceless Lincoln, or that a missile-mad Khrushchev would have entered a staring contest with a JFK who could not blink.

Unfortunately, every potential candidate in the 2016 race thus far fits the facist mold, though Chris Christie’s drooping jowls may be a step in the right direction. Nevertheless, I implore American voters to follow their noses toward a leader who doesn’t have one.

God bless mmm-mmm-MMM!

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So, Y’all Headed Up to the Old Shaughnessy Place, Eh?


So, y’all here to fill up on gas, eh? I’d say that’s a good idea. A body can get in some mighty big trouble out here in the desert if he ain’t careful.

So, y’all headed up to the old Shaughnessy place, eh? Was a nice place, I hear—at least until the murders. They got ‘em all with a pizza cutter, supposedly. Mom and Pappy, Grammy, Uncle Stew, the twins. Some pretty ugly business.

ding dongs

So, y’all inspecting that rack of Hostess snack cakes, eh? Well, just keep your mitts off them Ding Dogs. They’re just for show.

Anyway, so I was recounting the local lore surrounding the Shaughnessy place, eh? Yessum, authorities boarded up the house ages ago, after a couple more strange disappearances around the property. A-course I hear the cellar is still open.

So, y’all looking for a restroom, eh? Here’s the key, just go round back. I’d recommend doing your business in the sink. There’s a cottonmouth in there who don’t take too kindly to strangers.

So, y’all never even asked about the old Shaughnessy place, and I’ve just been babbling about it? I guess this old soul can’t get oven something so horrible, having lived here all my life. Just me and my brother Nate the Strangler. He lives up in the attic, don’t come out much, he’s kinda…shy.


So, y’all found a bloody pizza cutter behind the slurpee machine, eh? My, ain’t that a funny coincidence. Anyhow, take a gander at all those flavors! Folks always go for the blue raspberry, especially those Shaughnessy twins. At least until, you know…

So, y’all correctly surmised that I committed the Shaughnessy murders, and have been camped out at this here gas station ever since so that I may act as a harbinger for the horrors ahead, eh? Unfortunately, Nate don’t care too much for people going around and spilling our secrets.

So, y’all already managed to slay Nate the Strangler after he brutally killed some of the more morally reprehensible members of your teenage posse, eh? Looks like I’m finally about to get mine. I reckon them Shaughnessy ghosts will finally have some peace now that justice has been served.

Still, I don’t suppose none of y’all are ready for when Nate the Strangler comes back to life and massacres the bunch of you, eh?

So, my overuse of exposition has allowed y’all to easily bypass all the traps I’ve set for you, eh? Maybe if I’d spent more time learning how to better operate my small business and less time flaunting my homicidal tendencies, I wouldn’t be in this pickle. Anywho, I’d better go pump that gas for y’all before Nate the Strangler, resurrected yet again, throttles me to avenge years of abuse at my hands, thereby bringing the bloody Shaughnessy narrative to a fitting end.

So, y’all drive an electric car, eh? I suppose that means I got y’all wrapped up in this web of slaughter and deceit for nothing. Anyway, buy something or get out. This here store is a gruesome redneck murder front, not a damn library.

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Tom Waits Orgy Tomorrow from 4am-8am on WHRB!

Tom Waits

How exactly does one sum up Tom Waits, one of the most eclectic and brilliant talents of American music? Well, he doesn’t sing so much as he growls. His songs include seedy blues numbers, hobo ballads, street corner jazz, old-timey vaudeville, and experimental rock, and honey, that’s just the tip of the ice berg. Join the Blues Hangover’s Danny Fitz for some musical mayhem that will either have you stomping your foot or laughing all the way to the madhouse.

If you’re into eccentric singer-songwriters, porkpie hats, and listening to the radio at unreasonably early hours of the morning, then this is the radio tribute for you. Tune in tomorrow, May 3rd, from 4am-8am on 95.3 FM (Greater Boston Area) or stream live at:

Don’t forget to grab a cup of coffee and turn up the volume. See you then, folks.

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