GADZOOKS! SANS ‘CHEF’ Ÿ5

Of course, we were devastated by the death of soul man Issac Hayes. He invented disco and rap, they say. We forgive him, if only for that chain-link sweater/vest he used to wear.

What’s the perfectly pretentious salute? Check out YouTube – the Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain’s version of Hayes’ theme from “Shaft” is the definitive one (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PfK-UzQ48JE).

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Ÿ4 TO THE POORHOUSE IN A CADILLAC

Children, like it or not, the Second Great Depression is upon us. Ever wonder how your grandparents/great-grandparents made it through? You’re about to replicate their tragic journey yourself.

Make like a Joad and hit the road! Strap Grandma to the roof of the SUV, fill it with your most precious earthly possessions, and head for – let’s see, where is the economy improving ... I believe our choices are China and India.

You’ll get lost in the shuffle in Mumbai, but you can get a job at anyone of its 118,432 call centers. However, you’ll stick out like a sore, Caucasian thumb in Beijing, where most of our most valued consumer goods are manufactured by political prisoners. Bon appétit!

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Ÿ4 HOMELESS, WITH A TOUCH OF CLASS

If you’re stay-at-home destitute, nothing says “I love Gaia” more than carbon-neutral homelessness. You may soon join the ranks of those indigents clogging our roadsides, spanging. Some handy tips:

•Use both sides of the cardboard sign

•Solar-powered convection ovens can quickly reheat dumpster leavings

•Turn in those cans and bottles – make enough to buy more of those cans and bottles

•After huffing paint, remember to segregate this hazardous waste from general refuse

•Leave nothing but footprints – take nothing but memories (and anything from unlocked cars is game)

Remember – hobos were humanity’s first conservationists! Walk tall. Stand proud. And don’t look me in the eye.

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Ÿ4 IT WAS A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT Ÿ5

As the economy goes into the toilet, so do our literary tastes. One hearty standby is the indestructible cockroach of genres, the romance novel. You, too, can compose such monsterpieces, earn obscene sums of money, and join my yacht club.

It’s easy – romance novels are just porn with context.

First the title – take an abstract principle – love, honor, beauty – and match with an adjective – burning, churning, thrusting – and a noun – ember, candle, balustrade. Smush them together. “Love’s Glistening Ember” – does that smell like success or what?

Second: Write the dirty parts first. This is easy, fun, and the only reason they keep coming back for more. The key is to euphemize. Instead of the obvious verbiage, try something on the order of “His throbbing manhood filled the room,” “The earth turned, and pulsed, and spun, and so did they with it,” and “Her heaving fluorescent breasts glowed dimly in the shadow of the portcullis.” After a while, you can do this kind of thing in your sleep.

The rest is filigree – a soupcon of characterization, some big blowsy emotions, and a twinge of socioeconomic concern. Can a simple miller’s daughter from the wrong side of the tracks ever be happy with the large-limbed, dark and brooding master of Dudley Hall?

Usually, but not until page 280.

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Ÿ4 SNOB QUOTE OF THE WEEK Ÿ5

“I am a genius. In my generation, I am the only one.” 

--Gertrude Stein (note: never wrote a romance novel, did she?) 

Is this the kind of thing you are willing to put up with? Are you a pagan suckled in a creed outworn? Contact Brad Weismann at , or call (303) 473-1106.