Timosh Vladoslav Nedvyed (translated Tim Vlad Bear), came into the world in 1923 just outside of the small Czechoslovakian boarder town of Ostrava. He was born the bastard child of an unsuccessful Moravian turbots farmer and a drifting Bohemian tramp, or as they called them in Czechoslovakia, velka holka (big woman). Bear lived a commoner’s childhood, typical of the era. He spent his mornings collecting lichens from mountain rocks to feed the turbots and in the evenings he “scraped” the fish to collect their valuable slime which was sold as a powerful industrial binding agent. Today, Bear professes that he first gained a disdain for Liberals while working with those cold-blooded bottom-feeders.
Bear’s family was forced to leave the ‘old country’ during the great mad-turbot disease outbreak of ’37. After several years of traveling, they settled in the blossoming western Canadian township of Saskatoon. Here, a young Bear found himself engulfed at the epicenter of Canada’s political scene. While he was always to be found at the core of any political discussion, it wasn’t until the early 50’s that Bear became officially involved in politics. In 1952 , he ran as the candidate for the National Conservative People’s Popular Christian Alliance Front(political wing)[the NCPPCAF(p.w.)] in a heated bi-election for the 2nd seat councilman of the Sutherland township assembly of NNE Saskatoon. While he did manage to garnish a respectable 7.8% of the vote, it wasn’t enough. Disgusted with “official” politics, Bear gave up on his pursuit of elected officialdom.
It was shortly after, that a basket was left at Bear’s small apartment door. The basket contained a tiny infant. An attached note left little doubt that the mother of the child was one of Bear’s many lady acquaintances; either the prostitute he had met once while on vacation in Estevan Saskatchewan, or one of several such lady friends from Saskatoon’s dingy west end. Nevertheless, Bear raised his new son, Phillmore Wentworth Richtenstein Bear. Young Phillmore grew up to be as politically savvy and inspired as his father.
Said Karl Rove at the time, “Hot damn those boys have really got something. This is going to revolutionize the way we think about politics.” And indeed, it did.
The “golden” first post at Celestial Junk made waves across the political spectrum. It was entitled simply “F*ck Off You Scrotum Sucking Commie Wanks!” While it consisted mostly of incoherent and indecipherable ramblings and a poorly scanned pencil sketch of Ronald Reagan giving Gorbachev the finger, it took the world by storm. From that day on, pedestrian political speech was no longer denigrated to the coffee-shop; it was mainstream, and people everywhere stood up and took notice.
Recollects Vice President Dick Cheney, “The moment Celestial Junk hit the web, politicians everywhere had to reconsider their entire role in society. What Celestial Junk did, is it brought the mad traditionalist ramblings of a nut-job to the common man. This hit the public harder than a cardiac arrest and transformed politics into something more complicated than quadruple bypass surgery.”
The much lauded “second post” received just as much acclaim. Quaintly titled “I F*cking Hate Commie Pigs!”, it garnered Celestial Junk a record 27 hits, and assured “the boys of Cjunk” the title of Kings of the Blogosphere.
To this day, Bear and son Phillmore, AKA Paul and Junker, insist that their thought processes and constructive methods have hardly changed since the early days. They have simply built upon that first “golden post”. Each day of blogging begins when the stalwart writers meet at the Celestial Junk Production and Publication Studio (Bear’s basement computer room). Here the creators begin to brainstorm their ideas for the day. Topics of discussion vary greatly, ranging from “why commies suck” to “how much commies suck”. Lunch hour is spent burning off a little of the friction worked up during the brainstorming session. The stress relief activities usually involve shooting old toilets in the backyard or burning great piles of “Macleans Magazine”, “Green Peace Pamphlets” and the “New York Times” with diesel fuel.
Returning from lunch, the writing and posting begins. In the early days of Celestial Junk, cumbersome proof-reading and spell-checking were quickly dispelled with, as the creators felt they only burdened the “raw” feel they were going after. To this day, no proof-reading is done on any Celestial Junk posts. The authors feel this distinguishes them from other writers who are considered “conventional”, “established”, and “skilled”. And the critics agree. Celestial Junk has been called, “odd”, “peculiar”, and “completely incomprehensible”.
Finally, late in the day with the clock ticking, the final hard copy of a post is sent over the wires and published online at Celestial Junk. The always bold and hard-hitting commentary is eagerly devoured by the readership, and another day at Celestial Junk wraps up. Its grueling work, but nothing is more satisfying to the “boys of Cjunk”.
Currently, the longevity of Celestial Junk is not in question. The authors vow to keep “fighting the good fight”, and indeed there is no reason for us to believe otherwise, even though Bear recently celebrated his 82nd birthday. Says political commentator Rush Limbaugh of the staying power of Celestial Junk, “There’s no doubt about it, ‘Junk’ will be around for decades to come. Those fellows are as tenacious as they are insane.” Or, as the leggie Anne Coulter once confided to Bill O’Reilly of Fox, “That Ol’Bear, he’s pretty hot… I’d love to see him shoot his gun, or both he and Phillmore for that matter!”
Indeed. Like the slime harvested from an east-Czechoslovakian turbot, the monolith that is Celestial Junk is sure to stick with us for a very long time to come.
Timosh Vladoslav Nedvyed, remarkably sensual and attractive at the age of 82.