Zeitgeist NOT set to relaunch after all, resumes previous publication schedule

Earlier this year we announced the hostile takeover of the paper by one Al Thurrily. Recently, while scrounging around inside his skull, Mr. Thurrily discovered a bubble on his brain, the translucence of which was entirely astonishing. Even more astonishing was that when it popped, he lost his mind — as well as his control over this publication. Thus we are happy to report that, going forward, Zeitgeist MTL will publish quality articles on its original/expected schedule, rather than the one proposed by its most recent owner. That is to say: infrequent- and irregularly. ■

Zeitgeist set to relaunch in 2023, under new editor

by Zeitgeist staff

Following a year and a half hiatus, Zeitgeist is ALL SET to relaunch… in 2023, under the leadership of Al Thurrily, beneficent majority stakeholder of the German-English paper and a veteran of the recent hostile takeover of said paper.

“I’ve been eyeing Zeitgeist since it first came on the scene,” said Al, “and I was always impressed with the sporadic publishing schedule and array of one-off ‘correspondents’. Which is why I decided to take the paper in an entirely new direction. Next year, Zeitgeist will be undergoing a 180, or what I like to call a 365. Which, contrary to how it sounds, is not spinning in a full circle, but a commitment to publishing quality articles every single day of the year.”

Ah… 365 = 365 days. We understand. But what did that mean about the one-off correspondents? Won’t we be seeing them anymore?

“No!” said Al, or, as the style guide that just arrived on our desks says we must call him, Mr. Thurrily. “At least not in the same way. We’re going to have regular columnists, recurring correspondents, a visual art program, and a short fiction section. In short, we’re going to be more like a real paper.”

Exciting times, to be sure!

“And that’s another thing,” said Al–ahem, Mr. Thurrily. “We’re not going to do any more of these cutesy endings to stories.”

Cutesy endings?

“You know what I mean,” said Mr. Thurrily. “And they’re out!”

Completely out?!

“Well,” he conceded, “unless it turns out people really like them.” ■

Yadnot gets new mascot

via our festival department, as part of ongoing Yadnot coverage

That other weird Yadnot fish can move aside—Mathcott the Yadnot Whale is here!

* * *

That freaky fish you saw a couple months back? Forget about it. 2020’s Yadnot fish has been thrown BACK in the pond, making way for a new celebrity: Mathcott! The first ever Yadnot Whale.

A sperm whale by trade, Mathcott found his way up river and settled in the deep boggy bottom of Yadnot Pond, where he lay, undisturbed, for the last twenty years–till local Juvie Javie enthusiasts fished him out!

On surfacing, after blowing a colossal spout (the source, it turns out, of the famous, presumed natural, Yadnot Fountain!), Mathcott immediately introduced himself and was appointed, by unanimous vote, icon of Yadnot 2020. He was painted with the Eye of Yadnot and given a coco comb–the same kind that Yadney wears (though, of course, his is natural…). What a stunner! 

“This is the best thing ever to be fished up out of Yadnot Pond,” 2017’s Mystery Celebrity said. “Excepting Yadney, of course, but, of course, he’s very controversial.”

Not all reactions have been fully laudatory. “We’re not sure what to do about the, presumed natural, Yadnot Fountain,” Corporal Yads, lieutenant governor of Yadnot Pond, told us. “A lot of people came to see the fountain and, with Mathcott revealed, obviously they can’t see it anymore.”

But who cares about that?

Asked for comment by this paper, Yadnot showrunner Yadnan had this to say: “We couldn’t have picked a better mascot than Mathcott.”

Or at least, a note saying this was left for us at the Karma Cafe as comment–though it could have been written by anyone. ■

Trashification of the Toadstone

via our natural history department

Returning from a routine loop of the park (which park, we need not say), two bufo-enthusiasts were shocked and dismayed by the scene they saw: A channel polluted with trash.

Cans, plastic bottles, broken boards, an uprooted tree stump, distressed weeds, and a veneer of scum were just some of the things they noticed in the once-pristine pond where (as readers of our ongoing coverage will recall) one and sometimes more than one bufo makes its home.

“Or used to make its home,” the first enthusiast told us, following the encounter. “I didn’t see any bufos down there today and, let’s admit, if I were a toad, I wouldn’t live their either.”

“It used to be quite a nice secluded place,” the other agreed, “but lately it’s gotten pretty trashy.”

This comes on the heels of a reported toad-hunt by mother with kleins, who may have partaken in the aforementioned Parting of the Weeds.

In better news, following the disappearance of other wildlife (see our article), new residents are taking up lodging the park. Last night this newspaper received reports of a double sighting of the coney Lil Bunzums.

“I never expected to see Lil Bunzums in the park,” the excited spotter told us. “So that really was a pleasant surprise.”

More to come. ■

Chez Woh grand opening in mainland China!

via our foreign correspondent 

Good news–the rumors you’ve been hearing are true! China’s preeminent fashion designer Che Woh, who designed (?) the stylish che woh hat, has gone into business as a restauranteur. Taking up the spatula and chef’s knife is Che Woh himself–or at least his hat–in the brand new, exclusive restaurant Chez (Che) Woh.

Though only announced this morning, and though the building that will house Chez Woh is still being built, the waitlist to get a table is already 6 months long, with the first truly open seating in 2022. (Sign up quickly!)

Items expected to be on the menu include Che Woh’s Signature Noodles, which are made from the zigzag string you can see on rhûts and will cost ¥1 million (approximately $143,000 USD), and fish from Yadnot Pond. Opening night guests will include the Mystery Celebrity from Yadnot 2017, as well as Yadney, 2017’s Yadnot fish, who has been embroiled in controversy since his year as mascot, and who is expected to make a speech.

In the words of Che Woh: “Is a great oppo tunity to expan my business interest. Everybody love Che Woh hat, everybody want Che Woh restaurant. Now I make a people dream come true.” ■

The Demise of Public Bucks Exchange Booths (PBEB)

via Zeitgeist staff

A sad day for the Public Bucks scheme–brought about by the ultimate example of a public bucks schemer! 

* * *

While everyone is familiar with the public bucks motto (“Anyone can take a buck, anyone can leave a buck”, though it has long been noted that public bucks really only flow one way; that is: one person does all the leaving, another does all the taking), not everyone had the chance to try out a Public Bucks Exchange Booth or P-Beb, as they are known by this author. And now they never will.

In an outrageous and scandalous act, the Public Bucks Exchange Booth Company (PBEBCO) has been bought out–with public bucks! Bucks scraped and scrounged by a devious, amoral collector of public bucks who has already reopened the booths as bill-breaking, coin-exchanging hotspots with a  hefty built-in transaction fee.

Loyal clientele, who used to bring their coins to the Public Bucks booths to exchange them for banknotes, have been taken entirely by surprise by the surprise, no pun intended, change.

“I was absolutely gobsmacked!” said Peter Dwimmler, a codger, 83, who used to exchange his coins on Mondays for dollar bills, and his dollar bills for larger denominations later in the week. Mr. Dwimmler brought in his full-to-the-brim coin jar and was surprised to get only $1 back, along with a receipt that claimed $99 in processing fees.

Like many others, Mr. Dwimmler voluntarily left public bucks behind after each transaction, sometimes tipping his coin jar into the donation jar instead of exchanging it. “I feel utterly betrayed by Public Bucks, who provided the service absolutely free of charge up to now.”

Learning that the Booths had been bought out by an unscrupulous rapscallion did little to ease his sticker shock.

“If anything, that makes me feel worse,” Mr. Dwimmler said. “It means that I directly contributed to this fiend’s takeover of the Public Bucks system, that I had a hand in my own undoing!”

Mr. Dwimmler estimates that he’s left approximately $800 in public bucks at various booths over the years.

What happens next–and how long this new method of for-profit exchange-bucks can last–remains to be seen. ■

Yadnot 2020 put on hold over virus concerns

by Zeitgeist Staff

Despite continued fanfare–including promotional videos, collectible pamphlets, teasing fortune cookies, and a flurry of postcards and posters–the Committee for the Celebration of Yadnot, which hosts Yadnot including this year’s celebration, Yadnot 2020, today announced that the festival’s opening date has been pushed into the indefinite future over concerns surrounding the novel krona virus.

As many people are by now aware, the krona virus affects those it infects by turning them into Swedish currency; at a recent outbreak near Yadnot Pond, where the Yadnot fish live, dozens of fisherfolk were gathered up by two enterprising children, who found the shiny coins lining the shore.

“It made Little Jimmy so happy,” said one woman who witnessed the event. “He can’t convert them into USD, but if he could, it would be more money than he makes at his regular job!”

“It’s a shocking travesty,” said the lieutenant governor of Yadnot Pond at the time, Corporal Yads. “The one at the top must have sneezed, immediately spreading the krona virus to everyone downwind.”

That is only one of many possible theories, projecting how the virus could have spread, but the fact remains that in the crowded, confined spaces of a festival like Yadnot, lackadaisical faire-goers could quickly find themselves paying the price for attending–quite literally.

When asked for comment, 2017’s Yadnot fish, Yadney, had this to say: “I don’t know why you’re asking me. I don’t have anything to do with any of this.”

Too true! ■

Tales of a One-Fingered Typist

by Pablo Pizarro, literary correspondent 

After an accident left him with only one finger, the ring finger on his left hand, author Pulo Meranian despaired.

“It took me 10 times longer to write anything,” he says. “And I do mean that literally.”

Meranian was forced to peck away at his keyboard one key at a time, using abbreviations and custom AutoCorrect commands… until he discovered that he could control each knuckle independently.

“This was a turning point for me,” he remembers. “Suddenly I could use my three knuckles, as well as the tip of my finger. My typing prodigiously increased.”

Meranian’s “novels” in that first year of one-fingeredness had frequently consisted of a single page. Following his discovery of the versatility of his one remaining finger, they rapidly increased in size.

“I was writing novels with four, sometimes five pages,” says Meranian. “It left me shockingly pleased.”

Indeed, perhaps too pleased. Critics detected newfound smugness in the man of letters, smugness which had been entirely absent when he was ten-fingered like everyone else.

“I overcame great obstacles to be where I am today,” says the author, whose most recent novel contained eight pages, “and if some of that accomplishment seeps into my writing, can you blame me?

“It’s not smugness, it’s self-satisfaction,” Meranian concludes–although to most of us, those are the same thing. ■

Reverse Frontback Reflex — Who Has It, What It Means

by A Doctor, PhD

We’re all familiar with frontbacks–people whose heads face, no pun intended, backward, along with their legs, while their torsos face forward like normal people. But less familiar to the public than this common ailment is the reverse frontback: people who have gone frontback twice, which is to say, people who are indistinguishable from you or me.

The instinct to go reverse frontback is so deeply ingrained that many people don’t realize they have done it–while it is frontbackism’s foremost (indeed, only) cure, most reverse frontbacks never even know they went frontback in the first place: the instinct is that strong. For this reason I, A Doctor, PhD, and other doctors like me, have begun to refer to the instinct as a reflex.

Who has this reflex? Everybody who has gone reverse frontback without a stage of frontbackness that they are aware of, which is to say 99% of reverse frontbacks, which is to say, roughly 50% of the population. I know, it’s surprising, it’s that high.

What are the implications of this reflex? That is something that many doctors, like me, want to know–and believe me, we will share it when we find out.

* * *

COMMENTARY by Zeitgeist

Reverse frontback reflex: It’s a reflex many people never knew they had, before reading this article.

“I certainly never knew I had it,” says Garbanzo Beene, someone random we accosted to get an opinion. “And I’ve been a reverse frontback for most of my life.”

Can you remember your days of frontbackism?

“Well, no, not really,” says Garbanzo, scratching his head thoughtfully. “Truth is, I might just be a regular person–with no instinct and no reflexes to speak of.”

Indeed, many people are beginning to doubt the existence of reverse frontbacks, which, by extension, includes the reflex that made them that way–almost as many people as doubt A Doctor’s credentials (a PhD).

“I’ve never heard of A Doctor,” says Carmen Canda. “But he sounds fake and so does this reflex.”

If anyone ought to know, it’s Carmen: She’s a confirmed frontback.

“I’ve long since given up hope for a cure,” says Carmen dispassionately. “I know I’m supposed to want it, but, it’s been so long, you know? Almost the whole of my life.”

At 53, Carmen is one of a middle generation of frontbacks. But frontbackism is completely random, and takes some people even late in life.

“I was 97 when I became a frontback,” says Bitichew Pole, who is now 97 1/2. “I can’t say it’s changed my life substantially, but then I haven’t had to live with it very long. Most people said I was going to be dead by now, so I just laugh and say, ‘Well, you were wrong about that–and here’s something else! Now I’m a frontback!'”

Bitichew Pole is, like Carmen Canda, also sporting a frony–a front-facing ponytail.

“I don’t know, though, is it really?” says Carmen, fluffing her hair self-consciously.

She raises a good point: since frontbacks’ heads are on backwards, a ponytail to the front, draping over their foreheads, is still actually facing to the back. “I’d argue that this is a regular ponytail,” she says. “But I also tell people I have eyes in the back of my head.”

Frony or no frony, frontback or reverse frontback, reflex or no reflex, it’s a big, complicated world out there–and that’s all we can say for sure. ■

 

Flavored Floor Tiles

by New Inventive Masterpiece

New Inventive Masterpiece is pleased to be able to present… the latest greatest innovation which overlaps practicality with art: Flavored floor tiles.

Hungry and thirsty but trying to stick to your diet? Couple hours till dinner but you just want a snack? Lip-smackingly good floor tiles may be your solution: Just lay them down–even if you already have floors! Then lay yourself down (on your belly, perhaps) and lick the floor tiles to your heart’s content.

“Flavored floor tiles are ve answer to your needs,” says inventor Roderick Emmens, who is low class. “Vey’re vere for you on vose days when your mouf is wa’ering, but you don’ wannu eat. Jus’ licka flo’, and, vere you go, probbem solved. Tasty treat, ze-ro calories.”

It’s a veritable diet miracle. But it’s also revolutionary from an art perspective.

“Flavored floor tiles are, quite simply, stunning to look at,” says Goosto Prevo, current director of NIM, which sponsored not only the invention, but also this thinly-disguised advertisement. “They are an aesthetically pleasing shape–typically octagonal, but they can be cut in squares–and they are delicately lacquered with food-quality paints. This is something you can be equally proud to hang on your wall, as put on your floor. This is something you should not be ashamed to buy to look at, but then snack on on the bus home.”

What about keeping them clean?

“What about keeping them clean?” says Prevo. “They’re so cheap, you might as well just eat them and lay down some new ones.”

If Emmens and Prevo seem unusually desperate, it’s probably because nobody is convinced.

“I tried a flavored floor tile, and I didn’t like it,” said one person we talked to, who spoke on condition of anonymity. (Prevo is rumored to barricade people who disagree with him in their homes, blocking their front doors with stacks of flavored floor tiles, which they are forced to eat in order to get out.)

Is there anything they could do to convert you?

“Yes, make better flavors,” said the person.

Even Emmens has doubts about the quality control, sometimes. “It’s had its ups and downs,” he admits. “For a while they weren’t using nuffink but garlic, and let’s face i’, no one wants to eat a floor tile and smeuw like garlic for ve ressuva day, do vey, now, innit?”

Meanwhile, the flavored floor tiles are stacking up… in Prevo’s and Emmens’s back yards.

“It’s dispiri’ing,” says Emmens. “All vese perfec’ly good floor tiles goin’a waste. If only people would ea’ ’em. But vey don’t. No accoun’in’ for taste.”

No, indeed. ■