Without a doubt, Nat is the coolest kid in school. He throws the best pool parties, owns the sickest dirt bike, and draws the absolutely raddest roller coasters. Some of the other kids say Nat’s a jerk, but that’s just cause he has a lot of people making requests on his time and he just can’t give it to everyone. Nat’s super chill if you get to know him. So cut out this behind-the-back trash talk while he’s holding court concerning his new Deadmau5 t-shirt!
It’s the reunion hip hop heads never thought would happen. But, you know, it did. The 16 members of venerable rap troupe (it’s called a “troupe,” right?) Gunz In Ya Mug returned for a Vitamin Water-sponsored stadium tour and released a new album exclusively on Boost Mobile cell phones. A reunion was long thought impossible after founding member Stick Upz died in 2003, but his son, Yung Stick Upz, has filled in just fine. They say they might perform at the Super Bowl this year. Maybe you’re interested. I’ve got an extra ticket…?
Five years ago, Johnson Peest was living in his car, typing screenplays on a laptop that was thrown out by a thrift store. Now, he’s a one-man media empire. Having just completed construction of Peest-Wood, his 30-acre Orlando-based studio complex, and recently wrapped production on his latest film “Leona Joins The Army Too,” which Peest wrote, directed, and stars in as the title character, he is preparing for the biggest and most lucrative year of his career. They say he’s the white Tyler Perry. But isn’t that kind of racist?
Uh oh, Paris, New York and San Francisco, have you seen what’s happening up in the Pacific Northwest? From the small storefront of Maycutter in Seattle’s Capitol Hill sits the most mouth watering croissants, morning buns and rolls west of the Mississippi. And they all come from the skilled hand of Dylan Maycutter. Though never formally trained, Maycutter began baking two years ago when his girlfriend broke up with him. Unable to cope during the waking hours, Maycutter threw himself at pastries and breads. “The only time I wouldn’t think about her was when I was baking, so I kept on doing it, and, hey, I guess things have worked out, right?” Though his longest relationships since may be with the local farms where he sources his butter and eggs, he isn’t worried. “I mean, yeah, now it’s the opposite where I see her in every muffin or tart, but it’s not like I can stop because this is my livelihood.” Yum!
You may not know Cameron Carpenter, but to hear his work is to hear the divine. The 32 year-old world renowned Julliard-trained organist is best in his class. Yet, more impressive is how he carries himself. At a recent interview, he made sure to emphasize that when he said “hispanic,” he didn’t mean people from the country of Spain, but those from South America.
It is this needless talking down to his audience that impresses even the most buttoned up classical music goer. Yeah, he’s wearing excessive eye make up as he controls an organ, what of it? And, yeah, it’s obvious that he was drawn to the organ because it is powerful and blaring and you just cannot ignore it, even though it is still considered high class. Sounds like Cameron Carpenter, doesn’t it?
After more than sixteen seasons playing professional football, Roiden Darnelius, eventual first-ballot hall of famer and noted asshole, is retiring. And since he's such a big deal in a violent sport that pays millionaires to willfully shorten their lives for our morose viewing pleasure, we can count Darnelius among this year's Minutiæ 100.
On the field, the man known as -- ugh -- Mista Money would come up big again and again in high pressure situations, including a game-winning touchdown catch in the AFC Championship game two years in a row. Of course, Darnelius was also accused by dozens of players and former coaches of bullying, harassment and generally unsavory behavior, including peeing into opposing teams' Gatorade jugs live on television and completely driving over teammates cars with his lifted military grade Humvee.
Off the field, Darnelius is specifically known for being a vocal opponent of charity of any kind. On more than one occasion, the former wide receiver was found guilty of assaulting aid workers and attempting to light Salvation Army Santas on fire, including a memorable trip to Ghana where Darnelius paid to have a bridge demolished just to keep UN workers from entering a starving village. Reports from the area claim that Mista Money himself even went so far as to burn money in the faces of orphans.
But, you know, he's a big deal, so it makes sense that he's on the list. But, for the record, it really chaps our ass.
We asked the Minutiæ Kids Test Lab what was the coolest toy they tested this year. They moved aside the balls and wheels and arrived at a winner: Your Father’s iPhone. Kids all over the country are spending countless hours on Your Father’s iPhone. Not only is it full of high-quality well produced games, but it always has battery life and we all know the passcode to it. However, as Wells Margot, Director of Minutiæ Test Labs, tells us, the runner up was Your Mother’s Handbag which seems to have an endless amount of fun things to play with and usually has gum in there too. And there is always the old standby, Whatever Your Younger Brother Is Playing With.
To say Elaine has taken an unconventional path through Hollywood would be an understatement. In fact, it’s a bald faced lie. She hasn’t taken a path through Hollywood as much as she’s flown a plane right into “its gleaming twin towers.” And those are her words, not ours. Anyway, this year alone, Elaine starred in and co-wrote stuttercore filmmaker Noam Bleiweiss’s indie comedy “Lawrence Tee Hee,” directed a live music video for techno-trance collective Worm Symphony during the YouTube Music Awards, turned down the lead in Marvel’s “She-Hulk” movie, was embedded with a Marine Hunter-Killer unit in Iraq for six months, and possibly married the mysterious Arbo. On top of this, she’s just plain smoking hot. They say she’s crazy. But sometimes the crazy ones are the ones worth fighting for. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify, or vilify them. About the only thing you can't do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world - are the ones who do!
Make way for Henry Plecker, or he’ll do it himself. The San Diego bicycle advocate has made headlines for his brash treatment of vehicles on the road that he as deemed “Enemies of the Spoke.” “These villains don’t recognize that I am a human, and not only that, but I am trying to do some good in the world.” Plecker can be seen buzzing around on his bicycle, baseball bat in hand, ready to smash and bash any car that gets close to him. “This Running of the Steel Bulls has gotten out of hand and it’s up to me to stop them before they take another child from a parent’s arms.” Plecker, a cyclist since 2004, kicked his passion into high gear after his baby boy fell out of the back of his bike four years ago and was run over by series of cars that kept on getting larger and larger.
When downtown Dallas was attacked by an Al-Qaeda splinter cell earlier this year, it was the reclusive spies from the United States group S.H.A.D.O.W. (Secret Hierarchy and Dangerous Operations Winners) that came to the rescue before the nuclear device detonated and the terrorists got away.
The brave men and women of S.H.A.D.OW. have time and time again saved America and the world from the brink of disaster. And get this: they’re all under 16. That’s right. Minutiæ has learned that these super spies are super juveniles, and we couldn’t be happier.
From the Karate Twins to the Demolitions Demon, and the Tech Wiz to the Ace Pilot, we’re sleeping easier at night knowing that these kids are out past their bed time. And then there is S.H.A.D.O.W.'s de facto leader, codenamed Dreamboat. Dreamboat's silhouette has been featured on the cover of Minutiæ Teens, and his interests include lacrosse, skateboarding and tracking down the mysterious man with the purple cape who murdered his parents in the alley of a record store that sells opera music. Plus, get this ladies, he's gay as hell and out and S.H.A.D.O.W. is simultaneously super supportive and really over it because they're kids.
Luke Ruskin turned 31 this year, and celebrated with a group of friends at his woodsy Portland, Oregon home. By day, the manager of a bicycle-powered pizza shop (no, not the pizza-powered bicycle shop Piecycle) leads a pretty low key life, but on the evening of his 31st, Luke really went wild, talking about all the best craft beers in America.
What started as a small group of terrifyingly skinny bearded friends soon grew into a mass of several hundred skinny bearded people yearning to hear Luke spin yarns about Pliny the Elder and Pliny the Younger from Russian River Brewing in California. Luke then recalibrated their brains when he turned to Dogfish Head's Midas Touch, a rare brew made using an ancient Egyptian recipe and fermented muscat grapes.
With the night chilling, Luke warmed the still-gathering crowds as he turned to heavier, maltier beers like Dark Lord, an imperial Russian stout by midwestern brewery Three Floyds (again, not the pizza-powered bicycle shop Piecycle). And as the sun dared to come up on the eastern edges of south Portland, Luke left each dizzied and wide-eyed party goer with a promise: to try some Westvleteren 12 before he died, and to let everyone know how awesome it truly is even though they can't taste all the notes.
After years of success and failure, turmoil and upward trajectory, Jake Regal's weekly Los Angeles-based Mach Improv show has successfully moved to The Clubhouse, a clearing house for some of city's best indie improv nights. Regal, the at-times uncertain leader of Mach Improv, has actually tried to hand the reigns off to a few different performers over the years, but to no avail. Regal, it seems, is as integral to Mach as Mach is to the L.A. indie improv scene.
Now, things are positively coming up Schmiegel (a nickname garnered from Regal's hilarious pre-show bits). With an uncertain past, Mach's new home at The Clubhouse offers a bright future for Jake Regal. And, at time of press, it is even being widely reported that Regal was able to rope in Josh Brekhus for a weekly performance slot at the show. Is Josh Brekhus the new Matt Reid? Only Time Magazine will tell, and they refuse to let us know.
How did our scientists do it? How was Minutiæ's crack team of goggle-wearing lab coat junkies able to put together the single most effective energy drink on the planet? Only Hobone, the Minutiæ-founding Hardridge family dog, knows -- because it was routinely tested on him for effectiveness. And he's not telling.
Thankfully, word of MinutiæJuice's superior energy drink qualities have gotten out anyway, particularly in the video game community. The brackish, effervescent liquid is proving popular among gamers, for its ability to act as a strong muscle relaxant. That means less wear and tear on joints, thumbs and other key elements of a gamer's physique. And best of all -- MinutiæJuice doesn't rely on caffeine! Without giving too much away, let's just say our lab technicians discovered some pretty special "stuff" inside the young hearts of Channel Island kit foxes.
Think what you will about the Affordable Care Act, President Obama's presidential decree that every man, woman and underprivileged child be allowed access to health care. For us, Obamacare made the Minutiæ 100 list for a very simple reason: now we have something to talk about in line at the post office.
For years, it was all like "Uhh, how much money are you depositing?", but that seemed oddly invasive. Back in 1994, everyone was just talking about how Kurtis Cobain killed himself. There was a brief period in mid-2009 where people at the post office just kept talking about the tsunami that happened a few year before. It was like "Hey, remember that crazy-ass tsunami?" But that was it.
Now, it's all Obamacare all the time. No one watches TV anymore, so people just take a glance at Toss Point Oh or whatever before they head out for the day, and suddenly want to talk like they're an expert on health care premiums and government subsidies. It's made printing and hand-sending our weekly e-newsletter at the post office an absolute delight. Here's to hoping those goons in Washington never get it solved!
One billion. Yes, you heard that right. One billion. That’s the total number of views the New York City-based comedy troupe, Jean Angst, has on their fast-paced, spoof-heavy web videos. So what do you do after you’ve made the population of India bust a gut? Apparently, you say “no” a lot, including to the likes of J.J. Abrams, Steven Spielberg, Saturday Night Live, HBO, and Tea Leoni - all of whom made generous offers to the group. But after a billion tickled funny bones, Jean Angst wants control. So they raised $5 million on Kickstarter to bankroll their first full-length feature film, which is expected to debut at Sundance in January. What else are they doing? How about teaching a course this fall on “the finances of laughter” at Harvard Business School. Also, one of them is dating Anna Kendrick. And the other? He’s dating Kendrick Lamar.
How does a man transform from being a joke YouTube viral sensation for his performance in his self-produced Dust Bunnies informercial to being one of the best engineers at a top aviation company? “Yeah, I might’ve gone overboard in those late night commercials,” says St. Oint, now the head of the drone program at DRA Avionics, “but I was going through a lot at the time.”
St. Oint poured all of his time and money (and his marriage) into the Dust Bunnies, those amazing self-cleaning robots, that he was physically and emotionally exhausted by the time cameras rolled on the informercials. “I had so many MinutiæJuices surging through my body, and I had just gotten the papers from my wife’s lawyer. I went bezerk.” Thankfully that exuberance helped to make St. Oint enough of a profit that he created the Airdust Bunnies, a flying version of his famous house cleaning robots.
It was with his new product that he gained the attention of DRA Avionics, who quickly snatched him up. “Sure, everyone makes fun of me a few times a day, but, I’m financially solvent and my daughter decided to live with me, so things are good.”
Who knew that the founding of Boppbopp was so dark, dramatic and sexy? Duncan Clark did, that’s who. After spending nearly a decade and a half in the music video business directing popular videos for bands like High Top Suede Top and La La D, Clark busted through onto the cinema scene with the semi-fictional tale of Rebopulate. “I mean, I’ve read all the stories of the late nights coding and the tense business meetings, but I was more interested in how to add scantily clad women, unsettling music, and cool blue hues to the story.” Clark already has his next film planned, a passion project dramatizing the bitter schism between the Parker Brothers set in the gritty world of Salem in the early 1900s. “I mean, yeah everyone knows Monopoly and Clue, but what about the scantily clad women, the unsettling music, and the cool blue hues? That’s the kind of filmmaking I’m interested in.”
When desperate people have reached the end of the line, it’s then they turn to Josef Dyrtmein. The Holocaust survivor turned self-help guru has turned countless lives around with his patented method. “I get each of my students into a room by themselves with a wonderful surf & turf dinner. I instruct them to eat it while I watch, salivating over it. Once they are done, I stare at them for an hour before launching into a retelling of my horrible memories. Once I am done, they realize their lives come nowhere near to the horror and utter hell that I lived through. Then they return to their lives as bankers or lawyers or whatever. I still live with these memories, but at least I can make other people feel shame for being bogged down by their bullshit modern problems.”
No kid wants to grow up to become a club promoter. Well, unless that kid’s name is Carl Moops. The list of clubs he now owns is mindblowing: Tanks, Shelf, Nuke, Pistol, Clince, Wall, Golf, Rooch, and a dozen of other nighttime hot spots across U.S., Mexico, and Europe. He did the awesomest parties last year, including renting out the Old Biodome and throwing a recreation of the party from the movie Old Biodome (1967). And sometimes, that’s all you need to do.
From his Menlo Park office, the former Dakota Atlantic Group partner Skip Barkley looks back on his 18 years in the venture capitalist game with hope for the future. “There’s still a lot of meat on these bones,” says the 52 year old Puerto Rico-native, “and I plan to get the bones, too.” While you may not have heard of them now, his latest investments will soon be making headlines. “We got companies that let you can text a lollypop or pinch to shoe. These are technologies that even a year ago were impossible, and I’m more excited than I am for a Memorial Day BBQ.” On the docket are Bustle (a ride share solution to connect passengers with frustrated working mothers rushing their children to school), Bookworm (a company that sends books with factual inaccuracies to deserving children in Africa), and Curtainopener (a startup that tells you which movies are opening each weekend that will get your spouse in the mood). Barkley isn’t too worried about letting you in on his business. “They’re already too late to the farm,” says Barkley as he eases back in his chair, “all the prime meat has been picked off.”
Last time we heard the sweet sounds of “Love Suds” and “Let Them Eat Beefcakes,” it was from Blane, Shane and Paul Fleming. It’s been three years since the band performed and subsequently broke up, but producer Buzzy Silverbaum was able to bring back the group with three new teen heartthrobs. Still going by Blane, Shane and Duane, these young men (who have completely taken on the personas of the boys they are replacing) are even more outrageous than the original trio could have ever been. They’re working and twerking their way back into the souls of tweens, bweens (boy tweens) and qweens (older gay men who act like 12 year old girls).
By day, he’s a 29-year-old inner city public school teacher. By night, he’s a 30-year-old improv comedian. What’s with the age difference? Jabourski was born at night, baby.
Osric the Deplorable, née Erwin Brunn, was mortally vanquished Tuesday evening
when a ground-breaking plot to capture lightning and turn it against us
was foiled by an uninformed and frankly, we must say, offensive tourist.
The police department has released the following statement:
"While he was terribly and malevolently self-involved,
he was quite good at theatrics and we will miss his complicated escapes.
A bad party will be held at the station, much too late on a schoolnight, in his honor."
Osric the Deplorable is survived by his Black Flying Fox bat
who is heartbroken and will not be removed from Osric's underground lair.
Visitors can find her in the darkest corner with her wings over her eyes
and may leave sugar-water in a teacup by the grand staircase.
After nearly half a decade spent occupying the steps of many city halls, various grassy federal lands and (in one case) a broom closet inside the Tehachapi Municipal Court in Kern County, California, the Occupy Movement continues to show no signs of slowing down. Tents now only line the fringes of Occupy protest villages, a sign that newcomers are always arriving. At Occupy's literal and spiritual core are long-timers, protestors in hearty hand built structures that have been with the movement since its inception. There are irrigation channels, surprisingly clean medical wings and at least one mini Intelligentsia Coffehaus.
Recently though, a new kind of enemy -- beyond the vague economic injustice of large governments, the social stratification caused by upended gender norms and shadowy online booksellers -- has begun to shake the Occupy foundation from the inside. Newer, angrier activists have sprung up within the Occupy walls, chastising those who have been with the movement longer than a year as "fatcats" and "sellouts" who rely too closely on organization and structure. These new 'Occuπers' -- that's Occu-pi-ers, with the mathematical pi symbol in the middle -- have taken it upon themselves to tear down the Occupy establishment by pooping openly into plastic bags and hurling it at every mini birdhouse library they can find. Other tactics include pooping during open leadership meetings, pooping on the front steps of city hall and trying to casually blame it on the old school Occupiers, and marches that seem like mostly just an excuse to put on some Streetlight Manifesto and skank around in the dirt for a while. What the long-standing, well established revolution holds next is anyone's guess. (More poop, probably)
Karen Walton can’t conquer two food groups, can she? Well, apparently someone forgot to pose that weird question to her. Because Walton, owner and chief candy confectioner at Sweet Teeth, the popular, Brooklyn-based artisanal candy shop, this fall debuted the Sloppy Taco – a combination taco and sloppy joe – and almost instantly lines formed around the block. The idea’s so obvious, it’s seems ridiculous. But then again, isn’t that the definition of “genius”? You know… something being so obvious that it’s ridiculous. Whatever, I can’t wait to bury my face in a big Bushy – with Fritos and scallions – Sloppy Taco.
As a leading voice in America's latest third-wave political party, The Reductivists, new Michigan state senator Paul Bartunek has a lot on his mind. Not only is the outspoken lawmaker due to make a series of crucial speeches in the coming months that may largely define his rising career, the senator is also an absolutely insane conspiracy theorist.
Recent undercover plots that Senator Bartunek claims to have unearthed include a secret underground network of of hobos that have created their own society, a plan by certain factions to recruit children as spies in the growing global war on terrorism, and something about city workers installing new speed limits on his street as a way of monitoring his traffic patterns.
The decidedly off-his-rocker political star is quite popular in his home state of Michigan, and is one to watch out for in upcoming midterm federal elections. If Bartunek makes it to Capitol Hill, expect people to hear about a lot of crazy shit that may or may not (read: isn't) happening behind the scenes.
Guys, we did it again. With a reporting staff of over 17,000 around the globe, Minutiæ was given more awards than any other news organization this year. Not only did Minutiæ sweep the Peabodys and the National Magazine Awards, but we were also awards the rare Taco Kuiper Award, the distinguished Knight-Wallace Fellowship, and a Grammy Award for Best Spoken Word Album for "Minutiæ Speaks the News."
But the one award we didn't get this year was the Coolest Dad in the World Award, which was given to mom's new boyfriend Trezzy, who makes hardcore miniatures. Well, why don't you ask his 1/8th reproduction of Metallica on their Damage, Inc. Tour who is in the Minutiæ 100 and who isn't. Huh? Yeah. That's what we thought, Robert, you ungrateful, cynical child bully!
Don’t get him confused with Trent Reznor. Trezzy is way more popular. He’s head honcho at the shop that bares his name that doubles as his studio. Walk into Trezzy’s and you’ll find startlingly lifelike recreations at 1/16th size of the most hardcode acts in the Thrashcore business.
Even though there's a sign that says "please do not pose the miniatures," Trezzy will turn a blind eye because he's totally in love right now. He can't stop talking about her. We say that him making a miniature set of them on a picnic might turn her off because they've only been going out two months, but Trezzy insists that "this is real" and "she'll think it's nice." Robert, that child bully, even thinks he's the best.
You won't find The Royal Pecker on many city maps -- that's because the city of Brixton would rather keep mum about the British drinkery that has earned the dubious title of Most Lewd Pub in the World. If you're looking to down one at The Pecker, simply follow your nose, and listen for crowds of people shouting the worst obscenities you can think of.
Opened in late 1940 at the height of The Blitz, Germany's continued carpet bombing campaign against greater London during World War II, The Royal Pecker's purpose was twofold. The name, and associated logo, were meant to show off Britain's stiff response to Germany's attempt to break its will. And the bar itself acted as a meeting place for locals to air their grievances against the war, by screaming obscenities at each other as a form of catharsis.
These days, The Pecker is more fun than necessity, with liquored up Brits and in-the-know tourists joining in on the nasty fun. Guests are asked to fill out cards detailing their racial makeup, sexual orientation, family background, worst fears and highest accomplishments, all of which are used against them by the unwaveringly brutal staff. Fistfights are so common between patrons and bartenders that chicken wire now wraps the entire bar, and drinks are handed off through a small sliding door. Still, intrepid insulters find a way to make their presence felt; last year, one particularly frustrated visitor climbed the roof and pooped into the ventilation system. In retaliation, The Royal Pecker instituted a new policy of rubbing the rim of all drinks with a single strand of pubic hair. Here's to another century of lewd drinking at The Royal Pecker!
Mark Plumber graduated from Northwestern College three years ago and he is doing just fine. You know, he’s living at home and he hasn’t really found what “his thing” is yet, but it’s great to have him around the house if Debbie and Mike want to go away for a weekend. In high school they would’ve worried about him throwing a party, but all of his friends have moved away and anyways when Mark gets home from the job at his father’s friend real estate company, he just wants to relax and watch Sports Center. He’s thinking of applying to law school or business school, he’s not sure, and he’s always thought about moving to Los Angeles because his friend Jake Regal runs a super popular improv show out there, but he’s not sure he could take all that traffic and being so far from home.
In the midst of a deluge of needless self-promotional podcasts came Troydent, the podcasting king of UCSC. The Gossberg, South Dakota native matriculated from 9th grade in August 2013 to being a college freshman this November, and it’s easy to see why. He brings his love of skipping rocks and a simple country wisdom to the world. Professional Businessman & Skin Oil Aficionado Carl Icahn recently had Troydent speak at his company’s annual retreat, and rumor is he’s about to join the board of directors for the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation. Does this faze the exuberant soft-scalped boy? “Heck, if I had a wit about me, I wouldn’t know what to do.” Well said, Troydent. Well said.
It wouldn’t be a Minutiæ 100 list without our own Guidance & Advice specialist Susan Alan-Wenswick. She’s been the number one grossing author in the “self help and spiritual guidance” genre this past year. “Well, you know, money isn’t the most important thing. After paying my husba— ex-husband, ex-husband— after paying my ex-husband’s alimony and my daughter’s reverse-hypnotherapy at the Chronos Medical Center, I’m still using EBT, and I couldn’t be happier. I don’t have the distractions of food or cloth shopping to get in my way as I focus on focusing towards a greater focus on my focuses.”
A seventh grader running a Fortune 500 Company. A pair of twelve year olds on the US Olympics Men’s Basketball Team. A junior prom queen with a penchant for art dealing on the Lower East Side. All of these are heroes of Shohanny Marfick’s best-selling “Old Looking Teens” series of books that follows teenagers who look old enough to do adult things. “I came up with most of the ideas while I was a substitute teacher in Gaithersburg,” says Marficks from her posh home in London.
Now towering on thirty eight books, the Old Looking Teens series is about to spawn a feature film of her first and most famous book “Mr. President, Jr.” and a multiplatform television deal with Broadranch Productions. “I just imagine what I would want the children I can never have to be doing, and I write that.”
“I get letters from children saying they are so inspired, and I also get letters from adults wanting more explicit material involving, y'know, one of the old looking teens gets involved with a real adult... I have some drafts, but nothing official.”
Let's all just take a moment, really, to recognize the United States (of AMERICA) Post Office. These poor, blue-uniformed men and women and ‘brids are part of a lasting, centuries-long legacy, whose sole purpose is to courier important messages, documentations and sweet, simple love letters to people across the nation. How is that something worth making fun of?
First, it was "going postal". Everyone though their local mailman was going to shoot them in the face if they didn't put their outgoing mail in the proper slot. Then, for decades, the UNGOVERNABLE-ment has seen fit to slash postal funding across the board. There were a few years where some dumpy gray-haired fella even tried to act like a post office worker on television, spouting all sorts of nonsense and generally looking like a buffoon.
These people, these tireless carriers of daily information, slog through snow and sleet and rain and whatever else the world's hedonists bring down upon this once great nation. They bring us news from every corner of the world! And where -- tell me -- where else can you get that?
(This message was hand-delivered to the Minutiæ editorial staff)
60 years ago there were only, like, two television channels and they all featured crude pre-Sopranos heroes providing perfect role models for America. Nowadays we have over 500 television programs, each with their own gritty or misguided protagonist. And who has the time to stare at the television when there are podcasts to listen to? Answer: Alice Torken, television critic of the online news website The Daily Tease.
"We would have no idea what happened on last night's Mindy Project if Alice wasn't there writing everything down." says Daily Tease editor Grant Prosbteso. Torken herself wasn’t available for interview, as she was in her specially built TV watching room where she’s able to watch television and write her recaps simultaneously. And thanks to her, we can know much more about pop culture without ever experiencing it.
Because being able to carry on a conversation about a television show can mean life or death when it’s trivia night.
After downing oysters in Pawtuckett Bay, slurping salsas in San Antonio and foraging for edible snake skins in the Pacific Northwest, Minutiæ's crack dining team has settled on the new Restaurant of the Year.
CHPMNK, a hip new brunch and lunch spot in Los Angeles, has taken home top prize, thanks in no small part to their unwavering commitment to doing things different. Everything is needlessly expensive and hard to understand, and we love it. Hard to decipher menu items like "lacto-fermented lettuce", "butter chips on portmantoast" and "squabble" have the place simply buzzing.
But don't spend too much time looking at your plate, or you'll miss the turnstile of celebrities that line up for CHPMNK's delicious oddities. Lithe rockers, incognito actresses and desperate reality stars are all flocking here for a chance to be seen trying to figure out what the hell is between their two slices of bread, and the nation's food bloggerati have helped to make the space pretty impossible to stand, with endless accolades such as The Three Question Mark Award from FUN! tacked to the walls around you as you dine.
At CHPMNK, it's all about doing things differently, and alienating regular diners, poor people, non-celebrities and most of their own neighborhood in the process. And with a staunch dedication to what they believe in, plus some seriously delicious and impossible to define foods, it's not hard to see why they're our new Restaurant of the Year.
The classics are the classics for a reason. At least that's the idea behind Only Canned Goods, this year's Old Favorite Restaurant. A Boston mainstay since 1942, when fresh produce and recently slaughtered meat was all being shipped to our boys fighting the Nazis and Japs, Only Canned Goods has made it a point to only serve things that come from a can.
The menu reads like a snootier person's wine list, with taste and pungency offered as classic components of the a la carte menu. It's possible to snag a can of packed beef from the Musty side, thickly creamed corn from the Spoonfed section and wash it all down with a freshly popped can of milkwater.
For those looking to drop more than spare change, a back room houses many of Only Canned Goods' rare vintages. The bowing shelves reveal gems like a 1972 hog's foot from Swanson, or a rare chipped chicken in mustard from the year 1955. Whatever you decide to splurge on, just remember: the place is inexplicably BYOO -- bring your own opener. Gruff owner Plucky Moroscoe refuses to buy them for the table, even though his entire restaurant only serves food from cans. What a find that we found oh so long ago!
On Sunset Blvd., just West of Vermont Ave., sits the The Chronos Celebrity Medical Center. The premier medical institution in Los Angeles is celebrating their tenth anniversary this year and the Chronos Brothers couldn’t be happier. “When the five of us began this venture a decade ago, none of us could imagine we’d be here,” says the eldest Dr. Lagsly Chronos, hypnotism reversal specialist. The Center includes a medical campus spawning eighteen buildings, including a world class presidium, pavilion, annex and grotto. “And sure, I like advancing human evolution,” says the dimpled Dr. Dorby Chronos, “but there are plenty of nooks and crannies for romance to blossom.” And he’s right. Aside from being a top notch health care institution, the CCMC has been known to host the most doctor hookups in the country for the past seven years. “We couldn’t be more proud of our accomplishments,” says Dr. Chip Chronos, the pediatrician, “and even prouder of our indiscretions.” Just ask Jake Jabour.
If you haven’t been into a CoreTrain Fitness Center in the last year, you might be the only one. And with the company on track to open it’s thousandth gymnasium this year, you’re certainly behind on the wisdom of CoreTrain founder John Riker Thomas. Forget those silly allegations by the Justice Department that dope and drugs have a hand in the success, because Riker Thomas has been hard at work in Freewind, Utah perfecting the methodology. “Before it was all about getting all cylinders woking,” says Riker Thomas, “and then we discovered those major cylinders each house eight chambers that can further be optimized. But only recently did we make a huge breakthrough with seeing that those chambers are actually twin silos of opportunity that need to be pushed to the limit.” The second edition of the CoreTrain Handbook will be out by the Lord’s Christmas along with the Premier Edition of CoreTrain Panopticon’s film “Save The Nation.”
Founded in Bolivia in 1993, it wasn’t until 2005 that the paramilitary stateless group surged onto the world stage. Professor Leslie Samuels at the University of Chicago has been following La Organizacion since it’s inception. “It was with the addition of their new leader, whom we only know as Mr. K, that La Organizacion stretched it’s reach beyond the jungles of South America into Europe, Asia and North America.” While little is known of Mr. K, there is much to fear. Last year alone La Organizacion was responsible for collapsing diamond mining operations in Sierra Leone, rerouting jetliners in Australia to spell out their name in the air, and bringing down the telecommunications network of Europe when one of those big soccer matches was going on. Frank Abutter, the handler of those spunky teens in S.H.A.D.O.W., says that he and his spies are hard at working tracking down Mr. K and will not rest until they put him on trial.
While other popular amusement parks are plagued by mechanical failures and rising death tolls (we’re looking at you, Clunkies of Toledo), Burgerland stands alone as the safest, most satisfying playland in the world. Maybe it's the just-cooked french fry smell that's pumped throughout the park. Or is it the free milkshake funnel you get to chug if you show up on your birthday? Or the comfortable rides that take you through the entire exciting world of Burgerland's history, from a small handmade burger cart to today's global beef and bun empire! And with this year's 'Bring A Stranger!' promotion, there's no reason NOT to make a new friend and hop on the magical ketchup packet tram to the nearest Burgerland in your part of the world.
Another year, another heist. This time, Minutiæ wasn't even prepared to put the world's most notorious jewel thief and womanizer on the list, but lo and behold the wily con man found his way into our pages. Frankly, we have no idea how the Serpent could have done it.
Minutiæ's own managing editor carries the Minutiæ 100 list (which the Silver Serpent's name was not on) around for weeks on a small scroll inside a steel-reinforced necklace. That necklace has diodes that can detect rising heart rates and lies, and were it to be triggered in either case the necklace would release a small biotoxin, capable of eating the scroll in seconds and killing anyone who tried to retrieve it.
To transfer that scroll to Minutiæ's Hi-Teque® printing system, our managing editor (whose name is not released, for fear of his life) enters an entirely glass room over a seemingly bottomless pit, where armed guards watch from every corner. The list is then retrieved from inside the necklace, using completely unique neural imaging patterns, and is entered into a computer mainframe that the editor must build himself from packaged parts, before the whole thing is lugged to our printing presses, where each issue is personally stamped and certified.
And the wildest part of all is that I, the Silver Serpent, am sitting in your break room right now, gentlemen, listening to one of your precious staff members complain about his ex-wife’s new boyfriend Trezzy. See you in YOUR funny pages. (I sincerely apologize to Borgen, the newly discovered oldest person in the world at 166, as I had to take his spot to make the layout work.)
It’s been a crazy five years, but this winter the gripping teenage television adventure show International Mayan of Mystery will go on it’s last conquest. What began as a Saturday morning half hour turned into a powerful Sunday night drama in it’s second season. While not even the name is known of the lead, The Mayan Adventurer has kept us on the edge of our seats. Through jungles, caves, forests and even the occasional tundra, we’ve been there, as have been the ratings, peaking with the season opener in late summer that found the Mayan Adventurer where we left him at the end of season four, holding steel cables in each hands with huge weights on the end of them as a witch doctor possessed his soul. Showrunner Devin Gunder can’t believe the end is so near. “Everyone who has worked on this show has done an incredible job. I’m sad to see it go.” But, fear not, adventurers, because Little Kyle, the sarcastic pipsqueak, will be getting a spin-off following him on his adventures.
Every generation has one and he’s ours. He may not be throwing the parties, but he's making them come alive. In his seventh year (earning him the nickname The 7th Guest) at Brandeis University, Lobster Bib (real name Lawrence Biborino) has become the party king of the campus. Not only does he rule the weekends, but he has been known to turn a boring Chem lecture into the largest foam party the school had ever seen.
There are rumors that Lobster Bib has finally found his match (in love and in partying) in the new transfer student Oyster Shucker (real name Olive Shuckorino). Early on in the semester, while Lobster Bib was giving one of his patented and party-motivating “These are the days to party” speeches, Oyster Shucker interrupted him by surfing in on a hot dog cart while “Oh Yeah” by Yello (the Ferris Bueller theme song) blared from her boombox helmet. Since that tenuous first meeting, the entire campus has been wondering if these two are going to get down before they thrown down. But Winter Rush is only a few days away and there’s only room for one seafood named party king!
You know what? Fuck this. We know what pastry you think deserves this year's top spot. It's the one people stand in line for six hours for, the one that supposedly combines fried deliciousness with a flaky, buttery, layered interior. The one with a trademarked name and a reputation for being imitated across the nation. But that's bullshit. It's just all gotten to be too much.
This year's Pastry of the Year is the fucking cookie. Round, baked, kind of hard, tastes OK with milk -- COOKIES. Nothing dusted or salted or roasted or churned. Pour out some cookie dough onto anything that can be warmed up in an oven and go to fucking town. That's your pastry of the year, and anything else is just a bunch of dick-swanging. Jesus Christ.
Sure, sure we love Obama. Oh, yeah, he’s greaaaaaaat. We love the guy. Oh, yeah, I want to send him some chocolates on Valentine’s Day. Everyone here is reaaaaaaaaal keen on the guy. He’s probably gonna be on Rushmore, like, tomorrow, right? Probably replace all four of those phonies with different portraits of the “most” “amazing” “president” we’ve ever had. ‘Cause he’s so freakin’ great!
As the host of America's most beloved leftist children's show, Shapey Squarespace is one fun socialist. The character of Shapey is played by Adam Shapwiski, a noted proponent of social engineering and wealth inequality activist. Every Saturday morning, Shapwiski and his team of six writers, made up mostly of lefty 'zine authors and contributors to Slate, send children on a magical journey of social discovery. Kids chant along with famous Shapey slogans like "Pee on the rich!" and "Wealth is just a construct designed to keep us down!"
Now in syndication, Shapey Likes It earns in excess of $14 million annually.
Hey, this is great. We think it is so great. Everyone here has been thinking this for the looooongest time. Seriously, just the other day, we were all thinking it, and then looked at each other, and then we knew we were thinking it, and then we just laughed.
I think it was the most I have laughed in a really long time. And I don't do that that often. So, yeah, thanks Gay Marriage for giving me a laugh.
(Please do not read that last sentence first or out of context)
We would be sorely remiss if we did not mention Hobone Hardridge, the still-alive dog of Minutiæ co-founders Alvin Hardridge and his brother Nat. The 165 year-old bespectacled dog still lives on the Hardridge Ranch in Buxon Hole, Montana where he spends his days sitting on the porch, looking over the 243-acre ranch that is held in his name. That’s right, Hobone is still alive. He’s a 165 year old dog. Just needed glasses. That’s all.
It has swept the dance clubs of Eastern Europe and has become an international sensation. No, we’re not talking about the 90s electronic music group Digital Desire (famous for layering 113 different synth tones) but the hot synthetic street drug Fever. The notorious drug, taken in eye drops, raises internal body temperates up to 150°F, triggering fever dreams. Now what started as a sensation among the Club Rats of Belgium has spread. It has become the new worldwide currency for illegal trading on the internet. “Gettin’ Boiled” or “Gettin’ Your Boil On” has already proliferated the culture, including a moment where Matt Lauer and Al Roker took Fever live on the Today Show as a publicity stunt.
Iceland's latest export, Yoga Pants, comes to America by way of reality television. The diminutive spoken word poet (listed generously at 4 feet 11 inches tall) won the popular nationally televised contest XXXXXXX, which translates to Iceland Nation's Next Great Biggest Poet Slammer Man. The program, which lasts during the yearly 12 weeks that Iceland is plunged into total darkness above the Arctic Circle, pushes contestants to speak freely, embrace difficult topics and grow facial hair.
Now an emerging international sensation, Yoga Pants has begun his global tour in the U.S., asking tough philosophical questions of his audiences using slant rhyme, in cities like Austin, Duluth and Mt. Pleasant, Pennsylvania. The genre-shifting Mr. Pants has even taken to speaking his words using a microphone, long a no-no in spoken word circles, and has talked openly about speeding up his tempo and speaking over beats -- something in Iceland known as rarppeng.
“Yoga Pants are like my poetry, which why I have of named myself of this,” says Yoga Pants (born Jøel Jensen). “They cling to every corner of the body and hold you tight. Of this I saw in myself to be a creatist.”
Because c'mon, looka dem booties.
You're basically almost naked.
It’s Eyes Wide Shut for the internet age! Like a dangerous Tindr-rideshare mashup, Grabr is an iOS and Android-friendly program that is taking America's urban centers by storm. No longer content to be picked up by strangers and driven across town for money, founders Shariv Teknar and Joachim Pardilla have added an edge of sex and danger with Grabr.
Once activated, and a location requested, Grabr telegraphs your GPS location to a fleet of sexy, possibly wanted drivers (called "goons"). At any time from the moment of said activation, a nearby goon can “snatch” you up. What follows, according to the iTunes Store reviews, are tales of sultry blindfolds, whispered threats of hedonistic overindulgence and the simple touch of flesh on flesh, often lasting for days and spanning several states before being dropped off at your destination. It's unclear if all of this is happening while the car is actually in motion, but what is known is Grabr's popularity, which threatens to outpace every other rideshare app within months.
You may not be able to spell out his name completely, but you certainly have fallen in love with the work of T.I.A. Creff, the mastermind behind the sprawling Land of Alazgar fantasy universe (and published by Minutiæ Publishing).
What began as a series of role playing games has led to graphic novels, books and now a hit television show on HBO. Creff (first name Terrance Ignacious Albert) says of his creation that “Alazgar is as real as anything, as this pound cake, or your croissant.”
While he comes off like an unassuming prospector from the mid 1800s, Creff carries with him the knowledge of how the final battle between the noble Lombers of Alazgar versus the invading Trasinclaws will end when the final tome of the Land of Alazgar book series is released in 2015. “All I can say is it will be more tasty than this red velvet cupcake.”
What is art? And is art still art if no one knows it’s art? Those are the questions Irish artist-prankster-rapscallion, Arbo, dares to ask. If Arbo paints a box to look like a Cheerios box, fills it with actual Cheerios, places it in the cereal aisle of a Vons grocery store next to all the other Cheerios boxes, and tells no one he did it – is that art? And if we don’t have an answer, what does that say about us? And, if further, if Arbo buys it himself while overly winking at everyone in the Vons, does this elevate it to something higher than art? Lastly, if Arbo eats the Cheerios while sitting on the curb outside the Vons, does this make him mad genius or a genius madman? The only answer we know for sure is that Arbo raises so many questions.
These kids are impressive. Like, really impressive. How else would you describe their first place medal in a cross-continental hyperlighting solar race against six of the top teams from North America? But what's even more unbelievable is that every single student on the University of Alberta at Attica Solar Team is dating someone. In real life.
Chris Terkle, lead mechanical engineer, just started hanging out with that girl from the cafeteria in his dorm, after they kept bumping into each other buying yogurt parfaits. Apparently it's pretty much official now, which is really great to hear. Don Rawlins, the aerospace guru, kept talking about some Brazilian model that he met on the internet in a windflow chatroom, but none of the other kids had ever seen her -- until she showed up to cheer on the team at the finish line of the race wearing just the tiniest crop top. When Don made it to her through the crowd, they just started making out like crazy. Sophie Debussier, the French Canadian of the group, is actually dating two members of the group Of Montreal, and word is they're totally cool with it. And Dr. Riley Marshoon, the acting teacher liaison assigned to the group, is even dating his mail lady. Impressive, indeed.
As Senior Vice President of Desecrius Enterprises, Lance Claybark is a man in charge. The behind-the-scenes business mogul is always short on time (he declined to be interviewed for this issue, claiming that we could learn his speech pattern and use that deceive the vocal locks on his private yacht) but long on ideas about reinventing security in the modern home. Whereas competing companies like industry-leader ADT offer themselves as subdued, only-when-you-need us services for scared housewives, Claybark's Desecrius Enterprises is pushing forward.
The new initiative, dubbed "offensive security," seeks to integrate modern warfare techniques learned on Middle Eastern battle fields with home intrusion deterrent models currently at work for the home.
By the year 2017, Desecrius (thanks in large part to Claybark's direction) seeks to make laser-coded pin pads, pressure-sensitive doormats, night vision-capable windows and low-ordinance dirty bombs a part of the everyday safety of the home. Although we think that there’s nothing offensive about protecting your family at any cost.
Tabletop and board game giant Klaus Teuber is always welcome on our list. The sui generis megamind behind such worthwhile games as The Settlers of Catan and Barbarosa, Teuber's impact on everything from the live gaming community to weeknights in with the family cannot be overstated. Now a four-time Spiel des Jarhes winner, Teuber began his humble obsession as a moonlighting gig, making his pay during daylight hours as a dental technician.
Then, in 1991, Teuber began his slow climb into tabletop stardom with Drunter ind Drüber, a German-style multiplayer where gamers act as characters from the fictional town Schilda, who must build a new city after burning theirs to the ground to rid themselves of an unwanted mouse-dog. Adel Verpflichtet was soon to follow, a card-based turn game where old members of an elite club must bluff each other into having the best collection of antiques. Impeccable games like Entdecker and Löwenherz were soon to follow, before Teuber's biggest splash of all: The Settlers of Catan. Today, the wheat and ore-based trading game is so popular with overnourished vacationing teens that it can safely be added to the pantheon of truly great games. And with that, we can welcome Teuber to the greatness of the Minutiæ 100 as well.
Not yet two years old, Numbo the Elephant is already one of the Bronx Zoo's biggest stars. Yes, his enormous size and seemingly carefree attitude are both larger than life, but it's Numbo's startling intellectual abilities that have captivated all five boroughs.
It seems that, with no formal training or audience prompts, this Bronx Zoo miracle animal can correctly guess anyone's age. "We love it," says Staten Island native Sandra Day Oakonner, who herself is 64. "I come here all the time just to see Numbo work his magic." In reality, there's not much to see. Tour guides ask for volunteers, then select from the group a single visitor to come forward and stand in front of Numbo. The elephant, lazily chewing on grass only moments before, saunders over and stares back. After a moment, he stomps -- the left front leg indicating decades, the right front leg counting individual years. After the dust quite literally clears and the numbers are tallied up, the cameras begin to flash and the excited chatter can be heard all the way back to the poorly named Snack Pit / Snake Stand area.
The trick began during one of the trainers' birthdays, when fellow employees began prodding the man to find out his true age. Numbo, apparently overhearing the commotion, began stamping out his Morse-like code in earnest. Two days later, when a noted herpetologist had come in to find out the cause of Numbo's excited moves, the elephant's intelligence was discovered. If anything, trainers seemed to recall Numbo being a little frustrated that it took them so long to crack such an obvious code.
Even after all of Numbo's press, including an internationally watched minutes-long stomping to correctly guess the name of the new world's oldest man Borgen (who also appears on this year's Minutiæ 100 list), guests to the Bronx Zoo still cannot believe themselves. "It's unbelievable," says Carl Patchico of New Haven. "The first time I came to the zoo, Numbo got my age wrong. And I thought, well this is just a big hoax. But then I went home and looked at my birth certificate, and I realized I had been wrong about my birthday for my entire life! I had a long conversation with ‘my mother’.”
Although Minutiæ itself recently celebrated its 150th birthday, we won't be asking Numbo the elephant to guess our age any time soon.
Now entering its 16th season, most TV shows would be starting to show their age (*cough* Nightline *cough*), but not this venerable comedy. After it’s eponymous star passed away in 2003, the show’s focus shifted to the ensemble. Hines left the producers a vault full of notes for stories and jokes, and apparently they’re only a tenth of the way through that stack. Still not sold? Last year, the show won a record tenth Emmy for “Outstanding Comedy Series” and its early seasons remain the topped streamed TV series on Hulu Plus. Somewhere up there, Mr. Hines is smiling… and collecting a pretty nice residual check.
The story of a disgraced police officer entering a hyper-advanced prison to save his former partner had already become the best reviewed movie of the year (especially thanks to an advanced post-mortum review by Roger Ebert) when it broke the worldwide box office record in October. Gabriel Garcia Marquez Jr.’s genre-exploding film not only dazzled audiences with breakthrough 3D special effects, but told a human story normally reserved for those hoity toity cable television dramas.
I think Minutiæ speaks for everyone when we say “Hey, hold onto those Time Rippers, you might need ‘em, Gozwalez.”
This was an easy one and a hard one. But, when it came down to it, the Minutiæ Editors decide that the Leader of Latex should claim the crown cause, like, we all know, right? I mean, these Rubber Saviours have all saved our asses more than once in a night because of, well, do we have to spell it out for you? Come on. Think about it. Just take a tiny moment and think about it. Go ask Jake Jabour. Yeah. Exactly.
It’s the question on every sports fan’s lips: “Are concussions causing long-term brain damage in NFL players?” And right now, there’s only one group of men willing to do whatever it takes to get the answer: the starting defense of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. There’s Reggie, the fearless leader whose father is a former all-pro running back now stricken with dementia; Carl, the defensive end-cum-computer expert; Nathan, the safety who does everything by the book; Jefferson, the cornerback whose fists get him any answer he wants; Paulie, the hot-headed, young nose tackle who shoots first and asks questions later; the Grotsky twins, the OLBs who look, talk and even investigate exactly alike; Bisby, the defensive tackle with a death wish; Simon, the middle linebacker who thinks too much and feels too little; and lastly, LeFonch, the disgraced French aristocrat turned kicker who might be playing both sides. They might not be winning in the game of football, but they’re dedicated to winning the only game that counts: justice.
Since his death in 1981, reggae legend Bob Marley has sold over 70 million albums and become one of the most influential and beloved musicians on the planet. So how the hot hell have I not heard about him till this year?! I was in the passenger seat of my sister’s Cabriolet one day last August when I opened the glove compartment and saw it: “Legend: The Best of Bob Marley and the Wailers.” Holy smokes, it was awesome! “One Love.” “Get Up, Stand Up.” “No Woman, No Cry.” “I Shot the Sheriff.” There is my life before Marley and there is life after my Marley, and the first one I now realize was a complete waste.
"Segway? No way!" says CEO Gendler Bing, lightly jabbing at the once-proud people moving company that has of late fallen on hard times. "With Tartarus Mobilities, we're leaving those old ways of getting around in the dust." Just seven years old, this German engineering haus has already contracted with Brussels to build a monotube for getting around the city; they are in talks to deliver near-weightless zip pods to Tokyo by 2025; and in America, Tartarus is working to create the XHyperXLoopX, a secretive transportation model that is said to be capable of moving thirty ton bundles (be they people, cargo or robotic mercenaries) up to 2,500 miles away, at speeds exceeding 400 miles per hour. Despite offers by Subway, Papa John's and the U.S. Postal Service to buy the company and implement Tartarus' technologies, so far Gendler Bing hasn't budged. What that means for our ability to receive sub sandwiches near instantaneously remains to be seen. (Probably won’t happen)
What more is there to say about Larry Little that has already been Larry Littled a thousand Larry Littles already? Well, how about this? He’s Larry Little. Larry Little with it.
Forget Slipper. Forget Gitcheepo, Even forget Boppbop(!) In less than a year, Goebbels is the social network for teenagers.
Rick Spaggle, the CEO of Goebbels, said of his company at the recent San Francisco Disrupt conference in September, “our name says it all: We are all about disseminating information. The name says we are media heavy. The name says we are about sharing everything. Also, if anyone asks, we are reappropriating the name, not doing some crazy publicity stunt.”
Whatever the reason, we are hooked. From quick one second crowd sourced looped videos to pop-up location scavenger hunts, Goebbels is catching on like no social network has ever. “We are using something that everyone has — the smartphone — to make the first complete smart social network. If Goebbels doesn’t have it, Goebbels will track it down.”
Every day, 250,000 people watch the latest episode of Annabeth’s YouTube show, “My Drunk Furnished Basement,” where she mixes witty quips with home décor and cocktails. But she’s not stopping with internet fame. Annabeth just signed a deal to write a “MDFB” book for Harper Collins, is hosting a “Toss”-esque clip show on the new Esquire Network, and is rumored to be playing the main lady’s sidekick in the “50 Shades of Grey” movie. We’ve seen the future of entertainment. And it’s drunk. Too bad she’s a lesbian.
This is how the newest, flashiest, most innovation cable news network works: Semi-masked billionaire Darien Tossbont stands on a railing overlooking a panel of semi-transparent ultra-high definition panels (which we are calling So So Def, after the Korean inventor So So Def) where he can control every aspect of the broadcast.
At a moments notice, Tossbont can use his electrically-charged baton to direct the cameras to a separate portion of the newsroom to cover a different piece. Yet, who really is Darien Tossbont? A real playboy in the early 1990s, the self-made electric car mogul supposedly perished when the Toss Pinto Fully Electric Automobile (or TPFEA) exploded at the Detroit Auto Show in 1994. After recuperating in Borneo, and taking a native for his child's mother, Tossbont was prepared to reveal the TPFEA2 at the Borneo Auto Show in 2004, placing his child and the mother in the car. If you thought the car exploded, you're half right, because the bottom half exploded! Sadly, and practically, that was enough to kill Toss' family and badly burn his face.
Now, after refusing medical treatment and wearing a half-mask, Tossbont has turned his attention to the gulliberal media (our term) and has risen like a phoenix to become the Founder, CEO and Lead News Conductor of his own media empire Toss Point Oh. And this time, the only thing exploding are the ratings and last week his new supermodel girlfriend's car that he built himself.
Little is known about Macau's most recent casino mogul, beyond his Korean moniker: The Lone Wolf Eye. Elusive and potentially dangerous, Wolf Eye has quickly risen to the highest post at Varneo, the semi-autonomous region's most celebrated -- and seediest -- casino. International high rollers have all come to respect Wolf Eye's unbending rule of law, which governs every aspect of the most notorious gambling operation in Macau. There are rooms for every "salty taste", including Slap Poker, Blind Eye Pai Gow, Murderbone, Acid Craps and Honduran Roulette, known as "the game where no one wins”. Rumors of corruption are rampant in Varneo's upper management, though clients are generally happy with Wolf Eye's love of flair. Beautiful women routinely just walk into rooms, slow motion mechanical doves are released every time a jackpot is hit, and the main gambling floor was recently replaced with thick glass that shows an active snake pit just below.
Touch that dial if you’d like, because it doesn’t matter! The world of broadcasting and television has changed and there’s no turning back. Amongst all the companies clamoring for a piece of this new pie is Wizi, the beloved service that has been bringing us our favorite shows the day after they air. But now Wizi is getting into the original series game. After holding “And The Show Goes To…” a weeklong online televisual game show event where the company dwindled down 180 show concepts to only seven, the first episodes began to air in September. Jason Little, Wizi Chief Content Officer, says “these series, voted on by our fans, are the first in a long line of creative and exciting new stories for years to come, and we’re backing it up by spending more than 80% of our operating budget on it. It’s the future!” Comedies like “Adult Losers” and “Too Soon?” are available on the service next to reality shows “Burger Kings of Chicago” and “Too Small Shoes.” The jewel in Wizi’s original content crown is “Kane, MS,” following a single gay dad detective who walks with a cane and is also a crime lord. Time will only tell if viewers who are there to watch last night’s Leeps & Baunds will stick around for these brand new adventures.
Even if you haven't heard of Reggie Volts, you've heard Reggie Volts. The seriously hip nü comedian's funky electronic vibes can be heard on just about every television channel you can find, as the mastermind behind the theme songs for such popular shows as Cake Brothers, Humor Barf Barf and Baby Fortress, among others. Volt's poppy synth sounds are not only viscerally contagious -- they're also extremely easy to create.
With nothing more than a loop box, dented microphone and seriously long coke fingernail, Volts pulses and remixes his way into the opening credits of more than a dozen current comedy shows throughout the cable spectrum. His star is only rising for 2014 as well, thanks to first-look theme song deals with 20th Century Fox, NBC, FillyBustas, Larfum, Oxygen and Toss Point Oh, the shady new cable outlet helmed by semi-masked billionaire Darien Tossbot. Rumor has it, Volts is the only person to ever make Tossbot laugh. And with the gimmicky loops and clever bleep-bloops the self-described "musician" creates as theme songs for so many shows, it's not hard to understand why.
Veteran video game behemoth partyAnimal Studios’ latest release isn’t just a video game, it’s a cultural event that’s redefining what it means to play a game. Because is it “playing” if you can get back together with your ex-girlfriend, nail that interview for that job you didn’t get, and not pay for that thing on your car your mechanic said you needed to pay for but didn’t really? Cause that’s all stuff you can do in the game. On top of that, partyAnimal has the coolest offices. There’s a Lord of the Rings pinball machine and, on Fridays, they put six beers in the fridge.
Track the major innovations in the pharmaceutical field in the last 15 years and you’ll find a name that keeps popping up: Marquis Corbel. The French-Belgian scientist has worked at Fluid Combine Industries, hPharma, and now TARK, where is he leads the Future Properties Lab. It is in this skunkworks home Corbel’s intellect reigns supreme. In his signature dark silver suit and purple polo shirt buttoned all the way, Corbel sits unassuming in meetings with his colleagues. It is only when the din of discussions turns low that Corbel finally speaks up and offers solutions. “I am proud to be working on these projects that will bring happiness to many in the world,” says Corbel as he sips from a very tiny espresso cup, “but I don’t deserve to be on your list. I am just a man who wants the world to be better off.” Uh, well, get this buddy, you’re on the list! Nice try!
Stop me if you’ve heard this one: A small Peruvian girl decides that she’s had enough of the state mining corporation polluting the wells in her village, so she decides to start a campaign to write a letter to every world leader everyday for a year. To pay for the postage, she starts to make and sell small blankets. Eventually her stall becomes so popular she is able to afford rent on a storefront and employees. A year later she expands into clothing and begins to export her clothing all over the world. Three years later she lives in a high rise in Lima, and the following year she joins the board of directors of the state mining corporation and votes to have her village transformed into a Waste Incinerator Plant. You haven’t heard it? Exactly you Anglo-centric faux-liberals! Why don’t you open your GOD DAMN EYES once in a while and see the real atrocities that the fascist capitalist process has produced! I guess your politics only extend to your Candy Crush scores.
Travel blogs and tourism boards are simply abuzz about one of the nation's hottest vacation spots: Los Fegas. Or… is it?
That's the confusion surrounding Nevada's most controversial new destination. Hastily built by real estate mogul Reed Dortmund, Los Fegas sits just west of the long-popular city of sin: Las Vegas. And the similarities between the two go far beyond the name.
Los Fegas features a vintage neon sign with a bright red arrow, welcoming tourists in with its blinking lights. On weekend nights, Dortmund even pays an Elvos impersonator (a similarly obese and rhinestone studded Elvis character that has been popularized in the Philippines in the last decade) to stand near the sign, waving at tourists and belting out catchy Filipino rock tunes.
The skyline of Los Fegas is so similar to Las Vegas in the distance, that it's possible to stand just off the I-15 freeway and line up the buildings exactly, although everything is much smaller in Los Fegas. The dusty boomtown even has a pyramid-shaped hotel, with more than sixty D-cell batteries pointing skyward to attract the eyes of tourists.
Dortmund insists that all of the similarities are mere coincidence, but concedes that business has been booming with the English-as-second-language crowds driving across the desert, expecting to end up in Las Vegas.
In all, Los Fegas is by itself pretty remarkable. Nearly every detail from the glitzy, sometimes seedy Las Vegas nearby has been recreated, but in startlingly lower quality. Somehow, the Los Fegas version of the UNLV campus looks even more tired than the original, most of the endless cul de sac homes are simply pushover plywood shells and the murder rate is non-existent, because few people actually live within the Los Fegas city limits. In a way, it's a poor mockery that has done much to improve upon the original. But remember that classic slogan: “What occurs within the boundaries of Fegas, shall be contained in Fegas!”
It’s been 14 years since that fiery inferno consumed Dadofest ’99, and this legend of the Ibiza rave scene vanished forever, but DJ Dado is still the number one musician in the world. He sells more records than anyone, he has a hit MTV reality challenge show, and his record label – Never Truly Gone Records – is booming, thanks to the likes of Dado protégés mashup artist DJ Snuffleupagus and techno-trance collective Worm Symphony.
But what about the graffiti, you say? How is it possible there isn't a subway stop between New York and Washington D.C. that doesn't have the words "Dado Vivo" spray-painted on it? Since his "death-appearance," rumors of a thriving, underground Dado "street team" have spread across dance blogs and mashup message boards.
They say these young house music fans (or "Dado Birds") are meeting in the basements of used record stores and the alleyways outside rave warehouses, still getting the word out about their fallen idol and laying the grassroots marketing groundwork for his eventual return and release of his brand new album (long whispered to be titled: "Dadoism").
But these are all rumors, right? They have to be. Dado's dead. He's definitely dead. The Ibiza police department closed the case, and Capitol Records shuttered the publicity division responsible for the Dado street teams. So it seems the closest we'll come to a Dado return will be his performance at Austin City Limits this past year (backed by those freaks from Wilco). But that was just a hologram. I mean... wasn't it?
As long as there is blood in our veins, breath in our lungs and Turkish ink on these pages, Dustin Hoffman will remain the Minutiæ Man of the Year. With a career that has spanned decades, an understated work ethic and a love for all things cinematically poetic, Hoffman is the only true choice for this year's top spot, and has been for the past twenty one years.
Hoffman was born and raised in Los Angeles, where he attended the storied Los Angeles High School before enrolling in classes at Santa Monica College. Having undoubtedly been smart enough to graduate (but not needing to waste the time), Hoffman began to concentrate his considerable talents at the Pasadena Playhouse, before moving to New York City to burn the Broadway stage to the ground with his inimitable talents.
First, a detour to the Actors Studio, where Hoffman enhanced his considerable gift as a method actor, even fooling teachers and alumni by dressing the part of hermetic Studio president Darin Slough. In this capacity, Hoffman-as-Slough actually presided over the greatest financial success of the Studio in the school's entire history, streamlining the core curriculum and negotiating for several impactful partnerships with nearby stages that have helped countless actors rise to prominence themselves.
What follows is Hoffman's slingshot into the stars, where each of the uncountable burning lights whizzing past represent a personal and professional achievement. Along the way, Hoffman has picked up every acting and humanitarian award there is, but seems to shrug them off like so little stardust in favor of continuing the journey.
And despite his relative lack of work in recent years -- Hoffman did not produce, direct or act in a single film in 2013 -- and his very own insistence to no longer be included in our pages (all of which are dutifully chronicled in our Letters to the Editor pages and can be found in the Library of Congress), Hoffman continues to impress everyone involved with Minutiæ to the very core. Here's to you, Dustin Hoffman. You are truly Minutiæ's Man of the Year.