for
3/11/2000
Buckle in; this is going to be a weird one.
Well, a number of you read last week about my paralyzing marathon headache. I spent some time trying to incite you to revolt, and may have even managed to lodge the tune "Eye of the Tiger" in your heads, as I presented a rousing "I have a headache but I ain't gonna let that stop me" kind of piece....
3/4/00
...All said, a rather regrettable affair--but I've learned to accept that ahead of time.
History speaks that I did film that Super8 movie, by a grand effort of will, but also that the headache had already cleared up by itself by Friday, when I did so. Is there a moral victory in there? Is there ever? I don't know.
I went to the doctors' and was diagnosed with an ear infection. I was then given an antibiotic. The pills are generic and pink, and say "Pfizer" on them, just like Viagra tablets.
Now, we all know Pfizer's flagship product, Viagra...
...which, by the way, has a wonderfully unsqueemish Frequently Asked Questions list on it's web site. ("In the rare event of an erection lasting more than 4 hours, seek immediate medical help.") Viagra is neither an aphrodesiac nor a hormone. It is a drug designed to improve blood flow to the penis. Pfizer came up with that. That's cool.
Pfizer was one of the early manufacturers of penicillin, and the first to manage large-scale mass production. During the second world war, most of the antibiotics used by the allies came from Pfizer labs. That's cool too.
Today, they make drugs for just about everything. Indeed, you've probably taken a Pfizer drug this year, at least, if not this month, week, or today. Pfizer is everywhere. You can't escape it, and you don't want to. You embrace it, cling to it, and make it a part of your whole. You are Pfizer, in a way. You love Pfizer. Pfizer is love.
So the next time you hear someone bad-mouthing Pfizer Labs, I want you to, at least, say "no way, pal." At worst, I want you to kill. I want you to maim, and riot--looting is too banal; just smash it all up! I want blood to flow in the streets. Do you hear me? Blood! Pfizer-drugged blood; that's what I wanna see!
Don't let the forces of anti-Pfizer/Love brainwash you with rambling, non-sequitured...
2/26/00
propaganda. Don't let your mind, and the purity of your heart be tainted with bad knowings. Many knowings are bad, and I suggest you avoid as many of them as possible. If you don't get them directly from Pfizer or me, Space Toast, your Pfizer Apostle for the New Age of Righteousness, I suggest you say "no thanks, pal," or do that other thing. Do you hear me? Do you understand me? Do you love Pfizer?! Damn straight you do.
Still, these are the times that try the souls of Pfizer men and women, and the cost of upkeep is not low. I need your donations now, people. I need them badly. Pfizer can't keep fighting the good fight with its billions alone. It needs you, in the form of me, with your money, in my hands, to spend and spend and spend until the message has reached the ears of all those who doubt that "right" is in the word "Pfizer." Right.
Virgins may be needed too. Why? Don't question the edict of the One True Apostle of Pfizer. Virgins, I say! And not in that icky Ted Turner kind of way. Please send a set of 8x10 glossies here, to the Space Toast Page--color if possible, with minimal clothing. Your symbols of faith will be reviewed thoroughly and lofty decisions will be made. While you're at it, send a fifth of your income as well. Also, so-called "Amplewomen" need not apply....
I'm sure you've all learned. And I'm sure you all know what to do. Indeed, I'm sure many of you will find new and creative ways of doing it that I can neither take credit nor assume legal liability for--and that's a good thing. This is Space Toast, letting loose the toy dogs of war once again, signing off for a week which will no-doubt be an exciting one, and reminding you that you're never alone--and never innocent--until you've done everything you can do for your lord and master: Pfizer.
Touch the Toast