Once a legitimate journalist and now a desperate attention-seeker, radio’s Bud Buck is more than willing to purposely misunderstand the details of an assignment if he thinks it leads to a more controversial story. There is almost always less to a breathless Bud Buck expose’ than meets the eye. Here’s the latest atrocity from his growing collection:

Strange Rituals Gain Foothold

In this week leading up to an annual sacred observance for a large section of the populace, I set out to find strange superstitions that represent the worrisome downside of our celebrated freedoms. In short, I was looking for weird religion – alarming rituals happening right under our noses.

I didn’t have to look too far to discover what appears to be pagan worship of a mechanical God, the extremely loud and surprisingly portable deity “Shre-Dit”. Just this past Saturday, an impromptu ceremony sprang up in a local parking lot with loyal adherents lining up for the chance to make a sacrificial offering.

Legend has it that Shre-Dit has an insatiable hunger for human secrets.

The God must be fed large amounts of confidential information on a daily basis to maintain his strength.

The ritual requires that the secrets be written on paper. During the ceremony the faithful form a line and bring their treasures to the high priest, who is literally above the masses – standing on a wheeled platform to receive offerings from the supplicants. This platform is entirely covered by a metal enclosure, which also hides the deity from direct public view.

But oh, can you hear him! A whirring, rumbling sound slowly rises as Shre-Dit prepares to accept tributes from his people. The offerings are made in boxes and bags. These sacrifices are flung into the open maw of Shre-Dit and when the secrets are accepted, a sharp, brittle buzz cuts through the air, like the sound of a million locusts leveling an acre of corn in an instant.

Joy is obvious on faces of the supplicants as their classified documents are transformed into sacred confetti.

Why do they do it? I asked some of the faithful to describe their motivation for participating in this bizarre ceremony.

“I pray that I can keep my identity intact,” said one adherent who asked that her name not be used.

“I don’t want anyone else to try to become me,” added another who insisted his photographic image be distorted to prevent loss of privacy.

“I’m here to prevent the total theft of everything that makes me who I am, or who I ever hope be,” shouted a third, who tried to wrestle my camera away from me and kicked me in the shins several times.

Apparently Shre-Dit is seen as a protector against complete loss of one’s essential self. If he is even marginally successful at this, that would make Shre-Dit a very potent God indeed.

But there’s more! After the consumption ceremony, the secrets are said to undergo another phase of transformation, eventually being re-incarnated as more pieces of paper that will someday be able to hold new secrets that may eventually be tossed once again into the open metallic jaws of the ravenous Shre-Dit!

I was deeply impressed by the faith of those who brought offerings to the parking lot shrine this past Saturday. They stood in the wind and withstood unseasonably cold temperatures to nourish their mysterious mechanical protector, and to keep their very selves from being lost – forever. But will they reap real rewards for their efforts, or is this just another Strange Superstition?

Time will tell! This is Bud Buck!

Like I say, I think Bud misinterpreted what he saw. But who wants to hear a story about an ordinary shred-a-thon for people’s ordinary financial records? Especially when it’s so easy to think outrageous, surreal things about other people!

Have you participated in, or observed, puzzling rituals?

This e-mail arrived over the weekend from perennial sophomore Bubby Spamden, who continues to struggle with the choices facing a young person as he completes yet another year of 10th grade at Wendell Wilkie High School.

Hello Mr. C.,

So last Friday Ms. Murgatroyd called in sick at the last minute and her first hour social studies class, which I’m in, had to go next door to sit with Mr. Eisenstien’s “Introduction to Conceptual Art” class while they called for a sub.

Mr. E. was real good about letting us come in. He said if we had work to do that was class-related we could take care of it quietly in the back of the room while he lectured. That was fine with me because I was kind of hoping I could catch up on some important reading assignments on the backs of my eyelids.

First hour sucks, but you know that.

Anyway, he was up there going on and on about abstract this and subversive that, and the choices people make and how artists have to find a way to be artists and still survive and blah blah blah. Not to criticize him or anything. It’s just that his lecture was making my head feel heavier and heavier – so heavy I was about to put it down on my desk and get to “work” – when suddenly he said he was going to show the class a Woody Woodpecker cartoon.

Mr. E said he had just read an article about this animator who really liked cool art and worked some of it into the assembly line drawing he was doing for a studio. He did it on the sly because high concept art wasn’t supposed to be part of his job and most people are common toads who don’t understand good stuff and wouldn’t cross the street to look at a decent painting with a strong point of view, but they’ll lap up stupid cartoons all day long.

That got me really interested, because I love cartoons. And Woody Woodpecker kicks butt, literally. Mr. E said you can see the abstract stuff in the explosions at 4:40 and 6:33 on this You Tube video.

So that got me to thinking about what I’m going to do with my life. Mr. E said a conceptual artist can be a social critic no matter what line of work he or she goes into – it’s all about the attitude you take and what you consider to be your “mission”.

Personally, my mission is to get a job where I watch cartoons all day long.
Do you think I should be a super-cool conceptual artist, or just an art teacher like Mr. E?

Your pal,
Bubby

I told Bubby to be clear about the real job of teaching. Even though Mr. E. showed his class a Woody Woodpecker cartoon, that doesn’t mean he “watches cartoons all day long”. Far from it. And in any case it’s a bad idea to disparage someone’s line of work. Being “just an art teacher” is not a step down from being “a super-cool conceptual artist”. But I am glad that something happened at school to get him thinking – and excited about the future.

What was your favorite subject in school?

It appears the government shutdown faceoff has come to its final day, as expected.

In a meeting last night the Republican leader of the House and the Democratic leader of the Senate could not even agree on whether they had agreed about anything. Senator Reid thought they at least had a deal on the numbers, but Representative Boehner was pretty certain they didn’t.

This does not bode well.

In preparation for the shutdown, government workers began getting furlough notices yesterday. Some received letters telling them that they are too important to the nation to be allowed to stay home and they will be expected to report for duty without pay, starting next week. There’s a letter worthy of committing to your personal archives – file it next to the one you got from that person you were dating in college when they said they no longer loved you, but could you still take care of their cat over Easter break?

It is unthinkable that those serving in war zones and their families back home will be asked to accept this arrangement given the sacrifices they have already made, so expect at least one more vote today to take care of them. For the rest of the essential expendables, get ready for a simultaneous embrace / stiff-arm. We can only hope those workers responsible for keeping the space station astronauts alive will do their jobs and not complain. Ditto for whoever puts food in the Interior Department fish tank. And please, don’t make too big a show of your devotion to duty – it interferes with the narrative that says public workers are overcompensated wastrels.

Speaking of narratives, the storytelling goes into high gear today just in time for our weekend entertainment. By Monday morning we should have a pretty good idea whose version of the tale has more box office appeal – the Republican melodrama about irresponsible Democrats blowing the family paycheck down at the local tavern to buy rounds for their lazy cronies while the homestead is being repossessed, or the Democratic thriller about Republican and Tea Party anarchists hijacking a government train packed with poor orphans headed to camp and de-railing it into the mouth of an exploding volcano.

These are two classic scenarios that come pre-loaded with heartless villains, helpless victims and possibly some last minute heroics. The problem? Though we’ve seen each storyline a hundred times, there’s a chance half the country will go to see one movie and half will enjoy the other.

Then what? Popcorn, anyone? Or is dad still saying “no concessions”?

What’s your favorite cliffhanger?