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Squid #37
(published April 26, 2001)
Ask The Giant Squid: Ugly and Stupid Men
Who is Poor Mojo's Giant Squid?
O Tentacled One,

In writing, apropos of Papist sin-erasure practices, (and I quote you, o pressure-tanked One): "You may, at your discretion, voice concern over the literacy of your current president elect, and then comment upon the fine (perhaps even bodacious) tatas possessed by either (or both) of his daughters and wives," methinks in your immensity of intellect you overlooked a detail. And, as they say God, Papist or otherwise, is in the details. Catholic priests have no wives, much less daughters, unless they be children of sin, for which certain religious orders such as the Jesuits have funds for the hush-hushing thereof. Methinks you were confusing Papists with High Church Episcopalians or Anglicans (for the few Americans that still consider perfidous Albion the Mother Country).

But I quibble. Squid, oh Squid, do tell me this: what exactly do you think of onanism?

Dear Onanist,

I hesitate to admit weakness. The way I was spawned, I was taught that you never make your enemy aware of any possible levearge he may have upon your supine form. If your secondary dorsal tentacle has a somewhat weaker grip, you keep this shameful datum to yourself.

Some humans seem to pride themselves on their weaknesses, wearing them like colorful sashes awarded for bravery in battle, or holding them aloft like trophies at some pubescent competition of scientific cunning. (Science, above all else, should never be fair). These fecal chimps scream upon your televison devices about how some interior and permanent flaw has made them commit some reprhensible action, but it is not their fault. They, you see, are flawed. This is pathetic. I, by sheer definition, am not pathetic.

I admit my weakness hereforth not to ask forgiveness, but to give context. For I fear I may have been duped. Tom has gotten quite clever with his hands, and has grown accustomed to my horrible electroshock.

You see, my dear Onanist, a great portion of my knowledge of the world is mined from your cyber-realm. Your digital, holographic universe. Your information super-collider. Your Inter-Net. I have grown quite dependant upon this net for all of my data-sifting and research.

When an item is not readily available on the internet, I grow weary and lazy. I have my assistants do some leg-work.

An area of the knowledge that this computer web is sadly poor with reagrds to is ancient religion. Try searching for "Moabites" with a search engine, and all that you will receive is dross.

When I asked Tom about Onanism, and demanded he study it for me, he snickered and giggled. I assumed fear and adrenaline had finally destroyed his pre-frontal lobe, resulting in a sort of imbecilism. But, no. I think Tom was showing some of his innate Monkey-cleverness that allowed your species to make Submarines in the first place.

Tom told me that he is actually quite an expert on Onanism. And he held forth at great length and breadth upon the topic.

From what he has informed me of, with his gurgling horrid speech, here is my impression of Onanism: Onanism was an old-time religion practised by the Onanites. The Onanites were a hard-working people, very good with their hands. They would toil and toil at their Onanistic labor from daybreak until dusk. Many Onanites toiled so hard at their duties that they went blind. Others worked until they bled. Onanites, however, tended to labor alone under blankets made of hemp and sackcloth.

Other illuminations with regards to the practises of the Onanites: many children around the world enter phases during which they become practising Onanites. Tom himself was a member of an Onanite church from the age of eleven until twenty-one, during which time he "got a girlfriend" and had no time for worship. Many other members of the support staff here in Sin-Sin-Atti also admit to having once been practising Onanists. Sang Hsien says he still practises several times a day.

I'm having a hard time making all of this information come to a head. I kept pressing my staff for details, but they would do nothing but laugh hysterically in terror. I demanded, "What toil is Onanism, you foolish spluttering apes?" And Tom responded, "All I can tell you is that Many Hands makes Light Work." I fear I have been infilitrated by a cult. All of my future hiring sessions will definately involve long questions involving the applicants history of Onanism. I may even post a sign, Onanites need not apply.


Ex Post Scripto: Silly, silly man, to try and make a Squid play the fool. In the above quoting of my wisdom, I was speaking of the president elect's wives' and daughters' tatas, not the priest's wives' and daughters' tatas. Of course priests have no wives or daughters; they are ugly and stupid men.

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