I am not Charlie Sheen!

Those of you who were watching the Superbowl like me were probably surprised to see Charlie Sheen doing a commercial.  Surprise turned to shock when I found out that it wasn’t in fact Charlie Sheen but Bob Dylan.

Bob Dylan?  The counterculture icon?  Doing a commercial for Chrysler?  That would be almost as bad as America voting for a socialist tyrant.  Twice.  Wait.  Never mind that actually happened.

Anyway, for my readers who may have missed it I now present Bob Dylan’s Superbowl commercial.  Weep.  Weep for America.

Is there anything more American than America?   Except for Canada of course.  Lots of good TV shows filmed in Vancouver.  It’s cheaper I guess. California has too many taxes.

You can’t import original.  Except to Canada of course.  Though technically that’s exporting original not importing.  Did I mention lots of good American TV shows are filmed in Canada.  Vancouver’s a nice town.  It rains a lot but there are less government regulations.

You can’t fake true cool.  Though I think Neil Young is pretty cool.  Did I mention he’s Canadian?  I don’t think he’s from Vancouver though.  I’ll have to look it up.

What Detroit created became an inspiration to the rest of the world. Except for the abandoned buildings, high crime and roaming packs of dogs. There aren’t any roaming packs of dogs in Vancouver.  I think Canadian dogs are too polite to do that.

Yeah.  Detroit made cars and cars made America.  Wait.  I’m doing a commercial for Detroit? Oh well.  As long as I get paid.

Making the best.  Making the finest takes conviction.  And you can’t import the heart and soul of every man and women working on the line.  Perhaps if the men and women working on the line moved to Canada they might have a better standard of living.  Seriously.  Canada’s just over the bridge people.

You can search the world over for the finest things.  But really you don’t have to search the world over.  Just drive across the bridge into Canada. 

You won’t find a match for the American road.  I drove on a German road once.  Did you know that 55 kilometers per hour is a lot faster than 55 miles per hour?  That’s why the cop stopped me.  My speedometer said 55.  It’s an honest mistake. And I’m not the only one who made it.  NASA crashed a billion dollar satellite into the surface of Mars because they did the same thing.  

I don’t think NASA is based in Canada.  But maybe if they were they wouldn’t have made that mistake.

You won’t find a match for the creatures that live on the American road.  I should know.  I’ve run over many.  Some are now extinct.  Critters should have moved to Canada.

When cars are made in Detroit they are made with the one thing you can’t import from anywhere else:  the decline and fall of American culture.  And rabid packs of wild dogs.  Though I think Albania might have rabid packs of wild dogs.  Someone said they do.  I don’t think Albania makes good TV shows.  Not as good as the American TV shows made in Canada.

So let Germany brew your beer.  They have good beer.  Let Switzerland make your watch.  I used to wear a watch.  I think Paul McCartney stole it.  I introduced him to marijuana and the f*cker steals my watch!

Let Asia assemble your phone.  We will build your car.  As soon as the government gives us a bailout.

Does anyone have Clint Eastwood’s phone number? He did a commercial for Detroit too.  I want to ask him how much he got paid.

I asked to be paid in Canadian money.  I haven’t received any yet.

I’m Bob Dylan and there is blood on the tracks.  Probably something I ran over in my Japanese car.

You know the Japanese have good game shows.  And it doesn’t rain as much as it does in Vancouver.

I wonder if his commercial will win any awards?  Probably not in America.  Maybe in Canada.

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I’m an actor. Why is anyone surprised I’m an idiot?

Acclaimed actor Philip Seymour Hoffman was found dead in his Manhattan residence Sunday, the victim of an apparent drug overdose.

The academy-award winning idiot actor was found with a syringe in his arm and two plastic envelopes filled with heroin by his side.  The NYPD is tentatively calling it a drug overdose though many suspect a heart attack.

“He was a resident of Manhattan” said a neighbor.

I’m sure that what probably happened is that he found out how much he’d have to pay to buy a one-bedroom condo and his heart just exploded.  The last thing he said to me was, “I can’t believe how expensive it is to live here and can you get me some more heroin?  I’m out.”

Many of his friends expressed shock and grief at the news of his loss.

“I can’t believe he’s dead” said one.

I just sold him some heroin last week and he seemed fine.  Well except for not bathing for two weeks.  And he wasn’t able to form complete sentences.  And he offered to suck my dick for crack.  But other than that he was the same Philip I’ve known for years.

Another close friend was devastated by the news.

He had everything a person could ask for.  Talent.  Money.  Drugs.  I can’t believe he’d do something like die of an overdose.  He’s an actor!  One of the elite!  They are smarter than us.  They tell us what to believe and whom to vote for.  Maybe he killed himself on purpose to make a statement about the rise of the Tea Party?  I remember him telling me, “I’m worried about the Tea Party. They are extremists. And I’m out of heroin. Can you get me some?”

Indeed Hollywood seems to support the theory that Hoffman killed himself to protest the rise of right-wing extremism.

He told me last year, “I can’t believe the Republicans are going to shut the government down.  Don’t they care about the children?  I’m out of heroin. Do you know where I can buy some?”  Obviously he was worried about the direction America was going in.

With the Academy Awards just weeks away, many expect Hoffman’s death to cast a pall over the ceremony.  Said one presenter:

It won’t be the same without him.  It just won’t.  The next time I snort heroin off a male prostitute’s ass I’m going to do it in memory of Philip.

The Academy has announced that there will be a moment of silence at the ceremony to honor Hoffman.

“We’re going to ask all those in attendance to hold up their syringes in solidarity.  P Diddy is going to bring his gold-encrusted two million dollar syringe” said host Ellen Degeneres.

This will show the public that we are not just pampered and overpaid but that we care.

The Academy Awards will be held on Sunday, March 2nd.

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I love whales! Like that one over there who is….OH MY GOD IT’S EATING ME!

Famed banjo player and unemployed person Pete Seeger was killed today while strolling along the banks of the Hudson River near his home in Beacon, New York.

The famed peace activist, environmentalist and folk singer had told friends he was going out to stroll along the Hudson River to check for pollutants.

“Pete always did this” said a friend.

Every morning, no matter what the weather was he’d go down to the riverbank. Though he hated calling it a riverbank.  “Bank implies capitalism, which I am opposed to” he’d say.  I remember one time he found a beer can on the side of the river.  He came back to me crying, saying, “I weep for mother water.  Pure, but now defiled.”  He wrote a song about it: I weep for water/pure pure water/Poison, bombs/Some other stuff/weep/I weep/Impeach Bush!”

Witnesses to his death say that Seeger, a well-known figure in the Hudson Valley was walking along the river when he spotted a beached whale.

Pete was a man of peace and he believed in the sanctity of all life.  And abortion. Anyway he respected his brother whale and tried to help.

Approaching brother whale Seeger called out to it, “Relax brother whale.  I love you.”

The beached whale was unresponsive at first, until Seeger pulled out his ever-present banjo and started singing some folk songs.  The whale appeared to become agitated at the singing and expelled some water from his blowhole.

Seeger took the incident in stride and started improvising a song.

Brother whale/Brother Blowhole/peace is the answer/Brother whale/brother blowhole/Sing for peace/Sing to impeach Bush!

But the song didn’t have the effect that Seeger hoped.  As he continued to sing the whale soaked Seeger again with water from his blowhole.  Hoping perhaps that the whale would like to sing with him, Seeger approached the whale and entered his mouth.

“Don’t worry” Seeger told onlookers. “Brother whale is as peaceful as Joe Stalin.”

The whale then proceeded to eat Seeger and the banjo.

As horrified locals called 911, the unfazed Seeger continued to sing as the whale consumed him.

Brother whale/Brother blowhole/I love you/I love Mother Earth/Brother whale/Take my body and eat/Let me be nourishment for you/Let me be transformed into your nonpolluting fecal matter/Brother whale…….Ouch!

Towards the end, after Seeger’s banjo had been eaten, as well as Seeger’s legs and jaw, Seeger used sign language to continue singing.

Brother whale/You’ve made your point/That hurts/Oh god he’s eating me/Someone call the police/Help me/Help me please/Impeach Bush!

After Seeger had been consumed, the now revitalized whale expelled Seeger’s cap from his blowhole and swam away.

Senator Chuck Shumer (D-NY) has called for legislation banning so-called “assault blow holes” on all whales.

President Obama has ordered a drone strike on the offending whale.

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God is dead and it’s time to loot and burn!

Toni Tennille, one half of the singing duo of The Captain and Tennille, best know for their hit single, “Love Will Keep Us Together” has announced that she is seeking a divorce from the Captain, her husband of 39 years.

The Worldwide Headquarters of Manhattan Infidel has been expecting this news for some time now.  As the social fabric of this once great nation continues to unravel the divorce of the Captain and Tennille can only mean that the last strands of civilization left are gone.

Loyalty.  Tradition.  Custom. Morality.  These are words from a bygone age.  And now that we have officially entered the post-apocalyptic world  I will give my readers a few tips on how to survive.

• Trust no one.

But Manhattan Infidel, you say, I have friends.  I have family.  I have a spouse. Surely I can rely on them?

Civilization has broken down and you still cling to this?  The only way to survive the post-Captain and Tennille divorce apocalypse is to kill or be killed.  Find a weapon. A knife.  A shovel.  A gun if you can find one (which might be hard with all the gun control laws).  A cat.  A blowtorch.  Cherish your new-found weapon.  Keep it close to you. And when the post-apocalyptic hordes come for your stuff, deal a quick, brutal, lethal blow.  Then eat their brains.

• Use the internet sparingly.

As our infrastructure is overrun by hungry hordes of barely recognizable humans, the internet may experience outages.  So forget about updating your facebook status to “OMG being chased by hungry hordes lol.”  Twitter is out too.  The internet should only be used for downloading Captain and Tennille on your iPod.  And possibly looking for nude pictures of Olivia Wilde.  Our satellites in orbit will not fall to Earth immediately but their orbit will begin to decay once Houston is overrun.  Use your time on the internet wisely.  We must conserve the internet’s resources.  Because once those satellites fall you’ll have to rely on the United States Postal Service.  And you’ll probably have to actually talk to people.  And look how well talking worked for the Captain and Tennille.

• Mud

Common ordinary mud, the kind found outdoors or in Manhattan Infidel’s rarely cleaned apartment is the key to survival.  So cover yourself head to toe in mud.  Not only will you be protected from insects but you’ll look cool as hell as you emerge from the swamp in slow motion.  This will intimidate your enemies.  Just the other day I covered myself in mud and walked naked around Manhattan.  People feared me!  They worshiped me as a deity.  They brought me gifts.  They sacrificed their children to me.  You know, all in all a typical Friday in New York City.

• Rudimentary lathes

But most important for survival will be your lathe.  Look around you.  Try and build a rudimentary lathe.  Once you have built one guard it as your most cherished possession.  This machine tool which rotates the workpiece on its axis to perform various operations such as cutting, sanding, knurling, drilling or deformation will help you re-create (even in a primitive fashion) the advanced society you once lived in. So get cracking, and build that rudimentary lathe.  If you cannot then I suggest using your body in exchange for food and shelter.  I, Manhattan Infidel, did this just last night.  (Until I was asked to leave by the Sisters of Charity.)

So as civilization collapses remember these tips:  Trust no one.  Use the internet sparingly. Mud. Rudimentary lathes.  These are the keys to survival.

As for Toni Tennille, the person responsible for the breakdown of society, rumor has it that she has already shacked up with Captain Crunch and is forming a new band called “Captain Crunch and Tennille.”

Captain Crunch and Toni Tennille.  Unspeakable bastards.  If you see them, use your rudimentary lathe to torture and kill the duo.

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