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Monday, December 12, 2005 

Cruel Shoes

I bought a copy of Steve Martin's Cruel Shoes, his 1977 collection of essays and short stories, on ebay for $3. When I was a kid, nothing in the world was funnier.

I'm beginning to understand what's wrong with my brain. Here's a selection:

Shuckin' the Jive

The crazy bastards were going down to the pool hall to play a little pinball when their car exploded blowing everyone to smithereens. Some of Tubby's flesh flew off to the side of the road, and in time nourished a sunflower growing there. Soon the sunflower was eaten by a horse and the horse was eaten by some hobos out for wild time. Then one of the hobos met an eastward wandering Canadian guru. But before anything significant could happen the hobo died, being attacked by a dog heart in a scientist's laboratory. The death was listed as a heart attack. Then slavery was abolished.

Conclusion: Grandpa died and was resurrected after three days, but no one called him the Son of God; they just said, "Hey, that's Gramps!"

This was from Saturday's Washington Post...

Apparently Capitol File vetoed Al Franken's Steve Martin tribute (he won the Kennedy Center's Mark Twain award for humor)which went something like this:

"Full disclosure, I never liked Twain. Neither does Steve, despite whatever he says onstage at the Kennedy Center. Let's face it, Twain wrote one good book, one okay book, and a bunch of books that nobody reads unless they have to for school .

The only thing I can think of that my friend Steve and Twain have in common is that they are both unreconstructed racists who rely on crude racial stereotypes for much of their humor. Steve is probably the only white comedian who still performs in blackface and delivers dialogue in exaggerated African American patois . . .

Unlike Twain, Steve will probably not die broke. This is because he has invested in a vast collection of pickaninny art. His collection of ceramic mammies could fill a museum . . ."


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