2/25/09

When Times Are Tough, Ask: What Would Julio Iglesias Do? (2)

When Times Are Tough, Ask: What Would Julio Iglesias Do? (2)


The man who laid the groundwork for the evolutionary leap that is El Guapo.

While not surprising, eljumpingbean's "What Would Julio Iglesias Do?" segment has become so popular that our inboxes have been flooded to capacity and the mailrooms at the eljumpingbean national offices have vomited into every available crevice (not like that, cochino/a). Clearly now, unlike any other time in recent memory, the divine wisdom that shines from the legendary Julio Iglesias is obscenely urgent and Julio is the lighthouse that, if we heed the divine wisdom, can keep us from smashing our individual and collective boats against the rocks.

Some of you have written us with your personal scenarios, asking us the simple but profound question: What would Julio Iglesias do?

If Julio Iglesias got his kite stuck in a tree...

...Julio would place his hand on the small of the tree's back (Most people don't know that a tree even has a back, much less an area that could be called the small of the back, but this is Julio and Julio knows this and so much more about everything, including botany, way more than even the the most expert botanist. For instance, in Wyoming there is an entire forest that Julio visited once where the pines now have wonderful mullets and draw birds in with their silky, honeyed, beckoning voices.) Anyway, he'd place his hand on the tree's back, sing a few notes and the tree would absolutely swoon and just like keel over and offer up the kite (Again, not like that, cochino. We really do mean "kite". It's not a euphemism. Seriously, wipe that smirk off your face. Show some respect.).



If Julio Iglesias traveled through a wormhole and encountered himself in a parallel dimension...

...both Julios would have to fight the urge to seduce the other dimension counterpart. And, like matter and antimatter colliding, existence as we know it could be jeopardized through the sheer encounter of pure, unrefined amazingness pitted against pure, unrefined amazingness.


If Julio Iglesias was laid off after years of faithful service...

...he'd start drinking, like the rest of us would, except, unlike the rest of us, a tribe of scantily-clad women would arrive out of nowhere, carry him off on their shoulders and give him employment - if you know what I mean. (Now, it's exactly what you're thinking, cochino).


If Julio Iglesias was on a plane and the pilot and co-pilot died
...

...Julio would calmly stare off into the distance through the window and all around the world people would perceive his dilemma intuitively and immediately run outdoors and form a human net on which the plane would land. Sure some of the folks on the ground might not make it, but some things are worth it.

Smell Test (When Does Satire Go Bad?)

Smell Test (When Does Satire Go Bad?)

Hey...you. Vato, you there...Yes, you...step out of your lowrider, please. Can you, perchance, turn down your rattling car stereo and bring your scary friend along. Yeah, that guy right there next to you with his greased back hair and the laugh-now-cry-later-tattoo on his forearm. Not that guy. The other guy. The guy with the tattooed teardrops.

I'd like to ask you both some questions...Oh, sure, you can bring your teenage bride and your eight kids along. Oh, that's cute. I didn't know they made working lawnmowers that tiny. Oooohh how adorable- they have tiny chrome, spinning rims and everything? 22s? Impressive. By the way, I think you dropped your rosary behind you. Oops, and now your sawed-off shotgun, too. No, of course, I'll be brief . Yes, I understand you have a gang meeting to go to. You're the president? Outstanding. Of course. Sir?... Sir?... Oh, come on now! Where in heck did that cactus and sombrero come from? For peetsake, it's winter in Chicago...And why are you napping now? You're gonna catch a cold, sir. Can't that wait? Your children have gathered near my car and I think they're stealing my tires and leaving it on blocks...I'm convinced the smallest one is attempting to distract me with some elaborate ethnic dance or something of the sort. So, anyway. I would like to pick your brain about satire.... No, I said "SATIRE". You don't know what that is?... Really?... No, I just wanted to pick your brain about whether it can go too far - satire that is. May I begin? Okay...stop. That's fine. sirs, please remain seated, this lawn is already immaculately manicured, please put down the weedwhacker and the Corona. I'll proceed if you don't mind...Anyway - is it okay to use our satirical stick to gouge and jab at everything - including stereotypes and other things that might be construed as off limits? When does the satire cross into racism and general insensitivity? Oh no. Your eyes are glazing over...Have I lost you? What if I shake these colorful maracas and wear this fruit hat, like so? Look, I'm Carmen Miranda. Look. Look. No, I assure you - I am in no way affiliated with immigration or any law enforcement agency. I'll take your silence as a sign that you are pondering my question. You are pondering, yes? Let me add some more: Does it matter who the authors and audience of this potentially offensive satire is? In other words, can only Latinos make Latino jokes without reprisal? Is it like an "inside joke" sort of thing? Where are the lines drawn? Pardon me, sir, but I think that your wife or girlfriend is currently beating a child aganst another child...Oh, she says it's because she lost her chanclas and isn't wearing a belt and can find no suitable extension cords or wire hangers nearby? Okay, as long as you're aware. Well...I'll try to proceed. Another query --- Should we (anybody) even be laughing at these things? What is being gained through such excerises? Sirs... sirs..sirrs...please...I think one of your infants just stabbed me in the kidney with a rusty blade...Could I bother you to call an ambulance? I'm bleeding quite profusely....wake up, please wake up.....okay...now stop celebrating and patting him on the back...it's getting cold..oh, so cold...

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