Category Archives: Adam Kornya
Some people may think it is ironic that a week after I wrote a snarky blog post on the Rapture, a tornado swept through my little Midwestern college town and ripped the roof and porch from my bungalow home.
Then again, some people completely misunderstand and grossly misuse the term irony. These people might apply the descriptor to a situation in which apparent coincidences seem to take on the significance of design or ‘karmic’ intention. A man who is shot with his own gun, cheated on by the spouse upon whom he cheats, or otherwise hoisted upon his own petard- these are situations we think of as ironic when really a better word might be inauspicious, unfortunate, or in interest of accuracy, decrepitly superstitious. Read the rest of this entry
So this is the last post on Nonstop Karate.
I feel strange being the one writing it. I’ve only been contributing to the blog for a short while, and it would seem more fitting for Matt or Chad to pen the closing chapter. Still, if the world has got to end, it might as well end in Action Movie May, right? Read the rest of this entry
I guess there isn’t a whole lot of shame in making a list and calling it writing. It isn’t like I graduated with a degree in English or am in any way qualified or obligated to edify or entertain anyone. In fact, I think it’s high time I pointed out the fact that our readers come to Non-stop Karate with quite a lot of baggage. They come here looking for a little insight or cleverness, or even just the odd tit or giggle. But really, having expectations of quality of any kind is really just going to disappoint all parties involved. Read the rest of this entry
So I’m not really getting along with the other Nonstop Karate contributors right now since I refused to take part in their plan to use the blog to launch their vanity albums.
“He is not here: for he is risen, as he said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay. And go quickly, and tell his disciples that he is risen from the dead; and, behold, he goeth before you into Galilee; there shall ye see him: Drinking whiskey and eating hell of Easter Sandwiches.”
Hello, avid readers. I’d like to take a break from strange character pieces and half-baked political commentary to share something with you.
And hello. My name is Billy. Billy the pro-life dinosaur.
You might recognize me from such films as Jurassic Park, and Jurassic Park II. Also, Jurassic Park III.
And I’d to talk to you about abortion.
Originally I was intending to write a character piece today. However, since Matt did such a fine job of laying out the P’s and Q’s of drinking preparation in light of St. Patrick’s day, I thought it responsible to be here to pick you up and dust you off the morning after with a discussion of the price we pay for indulging the uisce beatha, the water of life, what the Irish call Whiskey.
It was once believed in old English hedge medicine that the bite of a rabid dog might be cured by placing fur of the same dog in the wound. And this treatment was largely ubiquitous throughout much of Europe, supposedly extending out of Shakespearean license on an old poem by Aristophanes. With progress, this barbaric practice was foregone in place of the more civilized science of leaching, but its legacy was fossilized in the colloquialism we know today which refers to curing a hangover the morning after a night’s heavy indulgences by consuming more liquor upon waking. I would like to discuss this among other curatives for alleviating that condition second to knowledge of good and evil in its ability to cause misery in men. Read the rest of this entry