I Can't Wait For The New X-Files Comedy

In light of shocking reports about the Queen of Sheba & her pet goat Sofie, the Song Of Solomon Kaffeeklatsch wrote the following report to be read at the 10th anniversary meeting of the Free Bigfoot Now! Society. Installments have been parsed for congratulation. Read & learn:

Sisters, we bring to you sad news from the Homely Land: Capture The Flag is no longer offered as an elective at UC-Irvine. This comes mostly as a sadness for the happy people gathered in gaiters by the gates of Golgotha tonight. If it's a Leonard Cohen song you hear, it's most likely not one of the one happy one he wrote. & that one is only happy if you're in a weird mood. Otherwise, you know, it's kinda blue.

Sisters, bookends being heavier than the books themselves, we step to the catalfalque & say to those taking umbrage, we say, "Stop taking all the umbrage!" Inside the coffin is ourselves, dead & dying, killed by a cancerous capitalistic culture which chomped cookies without care, which was conceived in catastrophe coldly like a chafing child, which constructed cataclysmic cast-iron cauldrons to cook cracked crabs for convenience for carnivores. I am out of alliteration, so shall have carry on with only assonance which, as my mother used to tell me, was better than no ass at all.

Sisters! Do you really need us to write your fan fiction? Do you imagine we'll have time to animate your blooper reel? Get real! That is the problem with this generation & the next: we populate our web pages, but do we really have free hours in our long day to airbrush the semen off the lips of Lindsay Lohan? This is why it seems like there's an extra arm in the picture, sisters - better that than foul truth in advertising, you know what I'm saying, can I get a good god damn, high five?!?

Sisters, we are not famous, nor well-known, nor well-bred, nor talented, nor skinny. But we are also not cowards! How many of you have single- or double-handedly dented an SUV in loving memory of 9/11? How many of you, present company excluded, have pulled out the heart of a hedge-fund manager & made him eat it with his Taco Bell nachos? Didn't we tell you he would like it? Wasn't that just too fucking freaky? & how many of you have said at long last, "No! No! Maybe!" to the universe that fails like every new television schedule in October? Why must I ask you? When will you learn?

Sisters, you can sigh, "Am I wrong?" You can holler back at us, "You've got what looks like arugula in your teeth!" You can tell your next-door neighbor "We're trying bondage now!" But what does it really accomplish other than simple communication? How much more mail must pass between this billing cycle & the next Netflix before we say "No! Unh-uh! No way!"? Is the answer three? Because last month we figured out it was four.

Now you know! At this point let's us empty the baggies & refill them with our own shame. We live in sweet surrender, sisters, with the frangipani dulling the deathly smell of the jacaranda, timeless but fated to kill us all, wet, wild, meek, mild, set, unique. In forty-two flavors not counting flavorless. Because lack of flavor is not a flavor, as silence is not a sound.

Sisters! We have cashews on the buffet tonight! Go nuts!

(This presentation was edited for all intents & purposes. A full transcript & video presentation will show up on C-Span as soon as you've forgotten all about it.)