In recent forays through the intarwebz, I had a chance to check up on one of my favorite online comics, ‘Breakfast of The Gods,’ an epic tale of sugary goodness by one Brendan Douglas Jones.  While browsing that site, I stumbled upon another of Jones’ works, a harrowing back and forth first-person narrative called “A Tale Of A Fateful Trip.”  It’s a shockingly frank and brutal (and possibly NSFW) tale detailing the real story of the tragic events that followed the 1964 sinking of the S.S. Minnow, and it set my brain churning on an age-old quandary, the battle between following the dictates of logic and simply going with your gut…

This morning’s MS-QOTD  springs from that particular well:  If your very desert island survival depended on it, who would YOU follow: Captain Jonas “Skipper” Grumby or Professor Roy Hinkley?


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Once upon a time, there was a young nerd from the Midwest, who loved Matter-Eater Lad and the McKenzie Brothers... If pop culture were a maze, Matthew would be the Minotaur at its center. Were it a mall, he'd be the Food Court. Were it a parking lot, he’d be the distant Cart Corral where the weird kids gather to smoke, but that’s not important right now... Matthew enjoys body surfing (so long as the bodies are fresh), writing in the third person, and dark-eyed women. Amongst his weaponry are such diverse elements as: Fear! Surprise! Ruthless efficiency! An almost fanatical devotion to pop culture! And a nice red uniform.


  1. Niether one of them was a prize. The skipper’s incompetence got them in the situation in the first place. The professor spent all his time making useless inventions without ever coming up with a way of getting to safety. Case in point, they didn’t have nails to repair the Minnow, so he concocted a sort of rubber cement to glue the boat back together. It immediately fell apart. Of course, they still had all the planks and ribs from the boat. They could have used the pieces to build another, but the professor wasn’t bright enough to make pegs to use instead of nails, or weave vines to lash the boards together. A troop of Tenderfoot Boy Scouts would have gotten them off the island inside of six months. The Skipper wasn’t much better. He was supposedly an expert on boats. He certain should have known enough to build a raft or dugout canoe, or been able to use the remains of the Minnow to build a smaller boat. I remember one episode where the professor built a pedal car. Hello, why didn’t they mount it on a raft, attach a rustic prop or paddle wheel and peddle their way to safety? The whole bloody lot of incompetents reminds me of something…. Congress!!! Egad!

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