The Worst Things For Sale

“Children’s Past Lives: How Past Life Memories Affect Your Child” is 371 pages long. One page would have sufficed, and it would have said “they don’t.”

The proof the author gives is that her own son described his own past-life death on a Civil War battlefield, which was “authenticated by an expert historian.” To me, this just says that the author let her son watch the History Channel before it turned into the Trash People Digging Through Trash Channel.

What happens when an intelligent, educated man takes high doses of psychedelics for fifteen straight years? Let’s start with “Two Human Species Exist: Their Hybrids Are Dyslexics, Homosexuals, Pedophiles, and Schizophrenics,” because then you’ll immediately understand why I was interested in Bruce Eldine Morton, Ph.D. This is clearly a nutcase book, and its premise, which is that left-brained and right-brained people are two separate human species, doesn’t even need to be specifically discredited. Research within the past few years has shown there is no “handedness” in brains, and that simple correlations of artistic or logical behavior with a particular side of the brain are not possible.

Dr. Bruce earned his Ph.D. in 1965, and completed his postdoctoral work at MIT and Harvard later in the 1960s. He worked professionally at several universities until his retirement in 1995. He clearly had his shit together, to some degree, to be able to do this. It wasn’t until I found his 2013 book “Psychedelic Visions From The Teacher” that I figured out how he came to the conclusion that homosexuals are from right-brained men having children with left-brained women: He tripped balls for 15 years straight. The description of the book describes how he “used psychedelic compounds to explore inner space” for fifteen years, which is also just about exactly the time period between when he retired and when he published this latest book.

It’s true that psychedelic experiences can give you a new perspective on life. But it’s also true that heavy use of serotonin receptor agonists, a class of drugs that encompasses nearly every known psychedelic compound, can permanently alter or diminish the brain’s cognitive ability. It’s not hard to imagine that fifteen years of constant use of illegal mental-powder has at least some chance of wrecking your ability to live in reality.

Or, as Dr. Bruce would put it, “Neuroreality: A Scientific Religion To Restore Meaning, Or How 7 Brain Elements Create 7 Minds And 7 Realities, Discoverer Of Triadism, Familial Polarity Galactic Big Bang Engines And The xDARP”, which also happens to be the title of his 2011 book.

The AtGames “Sega Genesis Console” has 80 built-in games and two wireless controllers for $49.99. Unfortunately, half of the built-in games are homebrew, and only the other 40 are original Genesis titles. And the remotes aren’t bluetooth like modern wireless controllers, they’re infrared, so you have to point them at the box for them to work.

On top of all that, according to the reviews, the emulator inside doesn’t completely work, so the built-in games don’t work like they should, and if you plug in a cartridge, that won’t work either.

The good news is that if you have a modern console, you don’t have to buy this piece of trash – you can get a used copy of “Genesis Collection” for your 360/PS3 for about $10 used.  

This motorized fork spins the end at the push of a button, so you can eat your spaghetti with, as the manufacturer claims, “more satisfying bites.”

The highlight here is the five-star review which says “Just don’t forget them at the restaurant like we had.” Which implies that each member of his family had one, and they brought them to a restaurant, and ate their spaghetti with them. In the restaurant. 

I’ve touched on the “Keep Calm” thing before, but I couldn’t bear the possibility of not sharing this retractable dog leash with anyone. Or this miserably-photoshopped $50 “Keep Calm And Walk The Dog” pillow, that’s made by a different company than the dog leash. Or the $13 “Keep Calm And Quilt On” electrical-outlet cover, where all of the text is gone because it was in the same spot as the outlet holes. Or the flat-image-photoshopped-on-a-round-cup “Keep Calm And Let Me Do Your Makeup” thermos, which also hilariously claims that it’s their trademarked slogan. Buddy, you couldn’t use the warp tool to curve that shit around the thermos, I don’t think you’re out there trademarking anything.  

The only thing worse than poopshame is being proud of the turds you birth. The “Kama Pootra” is guilty of this shitpride, not least of all in the “About The Author” section, where the author proudly states that he graduated from the University of California at Davis. We can only wonder if UC Davis is equally proud of having pushed this spicy meatball through their hallowed passages.

Why should seasonal sex-costumes be limited to Halloween? The women’s Sexy Mrs. Claus up there is about what you’d expect, and as usual, there’s a men’s equivalent, which is a sweater with mistletoe on the bottom, and an arrow that says to kiss the wearer’s dick.

But there is worse. Much worse than either of these. I present to you: the full-body, skin-tight spandex Santa suit. No clicking if you think you might have nightmares about a faceless Santa with a visible package.