In my group of friends at school it has become a sort of rule: one may not buy oneself a pez dispenser. It makes perfect sense (to us at least)- everyone should have a pez dispenser, but you should never be so unloved as to not be able to find one person willing to spend the $1.72 (with tax) that it takes to buy one.

         A pez dispenser is a very personalized item, however. One cannot buy any random dispenser for anyone. No sir! You must make sure that the personality of the person and his or her future pez dispenser match in some respect. Myself, I was given a Spidey pez dispenser (my first ever, I must admit). I am a great admirer of Spidey and I tend to be boucing off the walls (or could it possibly be the "bitten by the radioactive spider" connection? Nah.) My roommate is a morbid fiend, so she got a skullhead dispenser and so on.

         Recently we put on a production of Jesus Christ Superstar at our school. One of my good friends was playing Jesus. Cool, eh? Well she did a fantabulous job, and we thought that she deserved a pez dispenser for it. One of the artists in our group thought that it would be wonderful if we could change a regular pez dispenser into a "Jesus" dispenser. But why stop there?! Once you have the dispenser you can just draw little crosses on the pez and dispense them like that! She could go around with her little Christ offering people pez..."Body of Christ? Body of Christ?" Certianly the idea of transubstantiaion gains additional meaning while the host is being wrenched from the neck of the Savior. Think of the sales at Christian book stores! The Vatican will start a whole line--imagine a Moses figurine which dispensed manna!

         Nevermind. It was a silly idea anyway.



Diana Oboler goes to Bard. That is her life. In fact, all she does is Bard-like things -- writing pages and pages of intellectual drivel, singing Queen so a friend can graduate, etc. Her only succor is the fact that she and her friends celebrated Christmas last night. She gave her roommate a realistic glow-in-the-dark skull. The joy with which this was received and the attention that has been paid to Lady Jane Grey (for that's what her roommate named it) is making Diana slightly nervous. As are the surreptitious glances that her roommate continues to make. These glances, like the slave-trade routes of yore, have three stops: the plastic skull, her dissection kit, Diana's head, plastic skull, dissection kit, Diana...



American Children's Guide to Communism

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