...it is from that hour that I incline to date my Spiritual New-birth, or Baphometic Fire-baptism; perhaps I directly thereupon began to be a Pig.

November 30, 2005

A Word from Professor Skipowicz

Since so many of you have asked for my professional advice as a Doctor of Economics, I've decided to speak to you today about buying an RRSP. You need to do this before the deadline. Also, you have to go to a bank and make an appointment with someone to buy your RRSP. RRSP stands for Registered Retirement Savings Plan. You put money in it now for when you retire.
Many people have asked me, "Dr. Skipowicz, being a Marxist, why did you become the kind of economist that works for banks and stock exchanges and whatnot?" Well, that is a good question. It was because I loved the smell of banks, and I really loved those little slips of paper that they kept under the counter, where you would write how much you wanted to deposit or withdraw. They did away with all of that; I guess I should have had more foresight.
My advice to all of you buying RRSPs this year, is that you should tell your bank person to invest your money in socially-responsible companies. Like the Oxbow Hay company, or Little Critters Biodegradable Rodent Toiletries, or organic carrot farms. This is because if you give money to companies that make oil and whatnot, they will continue to destroy the earth, which means less grass for all the tiny people of the world, like guinea pigs and whatnot.
Tiny people of the world unite! Go green for your RRSPs this year!
Thank you,
Dr. Maude T. Skipowicz, Ph.D., D.Litt, K.C.B.


Anonymous Chris said...

I live in an alternate world now. A weird one. Far away. One saturated with recycled air, large double-doubles, and unstable, sometimes even angry fonts.

Ah, exam period.

I interact with 'learning' robots and 'teaching' robots. I interact with my iPod. The streets are devoid of real live people. Where did my friends go? Everything is dark and still. I talk to shadows.

When I get home from the library at the wee hours of the morning, returning to the real world of lattes and fluctuating barometric pressure, I embrace reality the only way that I remember how - digitally. I plug into the world wide web to find out what I've missed during the time that the Earth has traveled over 1.6 million miles in the infinite mystery of this unknowable universe.


I find (oh the horror!), that the world of my past, the one that I dearly loved, has been explained out of existence by a guinea pig (a credentialed pig -yes, but still...). The numbers have been munched and the people have been crunched. Long live the pig!

I awoke from a dream only to find out real life never existed. There is no me or you. Only the pigs. Those goddamn dirty pigs!

I left the Library of Bessie to be confronted by Comrade Maude. And nothing could be more normal.

Thanks for keeping me insane.

1:28 am  
Anonymous Greg said...

Lovin' the pig blog out here in Cambodia. Have to say that Bessie is quite a looker. Sort of confused about the strange guy in the pics, though... does Alex know about this shaggy-haired, beardless gentlemen? I'm assuming he's a pig wrangler you have on employ.

Hail to the pigs!

3:14 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...



Is that a carrot?




Is that a carrot?



6:31 pm  
Blogger m&b said...

Wow, Chris... I'm very moved by your prose tribute to Dr. Skipowicz and Ms. Brambledown. Also slightly concerned.
Hi, Greg! Yes, that gentleman to whom you refer is Alex's personal secretary, Jim, who I've co-opted as my pig wrangler. He does great work. Stong hands, you know.
And... Mr. Picky, I presume? You forgot "doo-dee-doo.... OH! I'm a guinea pig!... doo-dee-doo..."

6:56 pm  

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