Evil Monkey in Review: “Those Were the Days”

I’ve finally, with Luis Rodrigues’ help, created a separate tag and drop-down option for all Evil Monkey posts. So you can now review Evil Monkey’s sordid, drunken, disgusting history in one place, if you so desire. Let’s take a little trip down memory lane, shall we…

First, or at least almost first, there were the videos, like this one…

Then there was Evil on Farscape:
“Well, near as I can tell, the show is about a farting Henson hand puppet with some plasticene poured over it and eyebrows that serve no evolutionary purpose and about a Chewbacca rip-off and about an Earthman fallen through a black hole who has to learn to make facial expressions through a nervous tic that occurs when a sentry beacon can’t be turned off. A mushroom dweller apparently runs the engine room of the Leviathan prison ship now run by the prisoners, the ship is alive, and the editors can’t block a scene to save their lives.”

And his pungent writing advice:
“Some of your instructors will be drunk. Some will be fucking some of the students. Some will be going through painful divorces and believe the world is a rotting peach pit of unhappiness and despair. Some will be polyannas who love every word you write and will appeal to your sense of vanity, your ego, your own love of every word you write. Hacks will give you good advice. “Literary” writers will give you crappy advice. Some will exhort you to lie down in the gutter. Others will beseech you to remain in the tower. (Some of your instructors will be wise and happy and playful and wonderful, but it is boring to write about that which does not contain the seed of conflict.)”

His market advice:
“The worst career advice attempts to separate you from your work, you a shucked oyster wondering what happened, and where. This is my love and this is just a reach-around, but the latter is hot and the former is not, so I will work on what I’m mildly tempted by. Alas, market predictions aren’t like assholes, because everyone has two or three, and they usually serve little purpose.”

Thoughts on AvP:
“[The Billy Joel song] Kinda goes like this “We didn’t start the fire./The aliens did./And then the predators came:/Decapitation/ exploding hook through the heart/ claw through the brain/ evaporating head/ nail gun through head/ spike through chest/ finger in the lungs/ bite head off/ swinging spines for fun/ they blowed them up real good, Ralph.”

Advice on what to do when cornered by a psychotic fan:
“#1 – EXPELL ALL INTERNAL ORGANS (a good writer can easily regrow all internal organs, and this action tends to distract the person long enough for escape to occur).”

Guide to kosherness of imaginary meat:
“Pope Lick Monster – A: ‘I don’t know what that is.’ EM: ‘I think it’s a monster that licks the Pope.’ A: ‘If it’s licking the Pope, it’s probably treyf.'”

Evil on the Chronicles of Narnia
“I kept expecting the beavers to get beyond traditional 1950s husband-wife gender roles, but they never did. Why does the female beaver keep worrying about how her hair looks? Her whole body is ‘hair.'”

On the heroism of writers:
“Is it courageous to light your own farts if you’re a fart lighter?”

Making New Year’s resolutions:
“I predict you will grow a huge goiter on your neck–and it will write better than you do!”

…and so much more. Ah, good times.

Evil Monkey:
WTF, dude? You codified me? You can’t do that. No cage can hold me. No category suffices. I am legion.

All the same, it is done.

Evil Monkey:
Don’t you realize what a jerk I’ll look like if they read all the entries in one place?

Yes. Yes, I do.

Evil Monkey:
You. You’re the evil one. I’m pure as the driven snow.

If the snow being driven is riddled through with piss.

Evil Monkey:
That doesn’t make it any less pure!


  1. Xelgaex says

    I see you’re trying to shift the blame for your Farscape heresy onto poor innocent Evil. Unfortunately you forgot to reckon with dialogue attribution! The truth will out, sir. The truth will out!

  2. teaver says

    What do you want from the monkey, mister? It’s cute. It reminds me of… erm. Someone. Someone I know very well.