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. Last Updated: 07/27/2016

Global eye

Ich Bin Ein Schmutz

Mr. Pig, Mrs. Vomit, the Right Rev. Filthman and Dr. Stupid -- not to mention little Miss Hitler -- all say they are proud of their surnames and wouldn't change them for anything, according to the German magazine Focus.

Thousands of Germans are afflicted with descriptive monikers that seem to betoken a harshly judgmental streak in their volkisch forbears.

The original etymology of names such as Dumm (Stupid), Faul (Lazy) and Fett (Fat) seems plain enough (though why the son of the original Dumm would want to perpetuate his father's odium is hard to figure); but how did some sweet little big-eyed baby come to be known one day as Kotz (Vomit), Moerder (Murder), or Herr Professor Roast Chicken (Brathuhn)?

Several of the epithetics interviewed by Focus said they had indeed suffered from their names as children, but had not changed them legally upon adulthood as a kind of proud defiance of social pressure.

"Why should I have a different name from my father and grandfather?" asked one indignant Mr. Pig (Schwein), a sentiment echoed by numerous Frosches (Frog), Schumtzes (Dirt), Halsbands (Dog Collar) and those Hitlers (which means, of course, "Poxy Little Tyrant With a Testicular Problem").

Fierce Creatures

However, Herr Roast Chicken might want to keep a low-tailed profile should he visit Britain any time soon. The Animal Liberation Front is in the midst of a terror campaign there that this week saw the firebombing of seven trucks full of frozen chickens in Brackley.

Credit for the Molotov barbecue was claimed by the ALF, which, oddly enough, numbers no animals at all amongst its liberators.

(The birds and beasts, like a bunch of chatty, fretty old Mensheviks, are reportedly holding woodland congresses and have not yet decided if the time is right for armed conflict against the biped oppressor. Also, the badgers keep eating the muskrats, which makes it hard to get a quorum.)

No upright corpse-devourers were injured in the bombing, and no arrests have been made, although police are holding several Front members in prison for planning or executing earlier arson attacks on vicious flesh-peddlers.

In fact, Scotland Yard now ranks the Animal Liberation Front just behind the Irish Republican Army (notorious gobblers of murdered meat, by the way) as the most serious terrorist threat in the country.

Loopholes in the Law

n "Well, let's see. Thou shalt not kill: that's one, right? Then, uh, thou shalt not steal, yeah? Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's ass -- I always remember that one, we used to laugh about it in seminary. How many more? Seven? Geez Louise, that's a lot! O.K. Thou shalt not ... uh ... shalt not ... remember thy ... Mother's Day, to keep it holy. Right? No? Well, what's that other one, the Prince Charles thing ... Thou shalt not commit something, something -- Oh, bugger, I've got to go! East Enders is on!"

The Church of England was adamant in the defense of its clergy this week after a Sunday Times poll revealed that only 34 percent of Anglican priests polled could recite all 10 Commandments without cribbing.

"When people are put on the spot like that, of course they can't remember," a church spokesman said. "Given time, they would recall them."

However, outspoken Tory MP John Redwood spoke out in tediously predictable outrage at the findings.

"It's their job to remind us of the laws of Christianity," thundered Redwood, who apparently has lost the physical ability to crack open a Bible and take a gander for himself.

Duchess of Dork

Hey, Sarah Ferguson! You've sucked the toes of balding sharpies, binged and purged with the public treasury, kicked a few more slats out from under the tottering monarchy, and finally got booted right out of the royal family, landing on your Sloaney keester smack dab in a mudhole of debt. After such shameful folly and devastating disgrace, whatcha gonna do now?

Why, go to America and pitch products; what else?

This week millions of Americans watched in horrified fascination as the Duchess of York made her TV debut for Ocean Spray cranberry juice, hawking a diet version of the popular cocktail mixer and humorously demonstrating its usefulness in cooling down the heated baying of the gutter press.

While her radiant charisma was said by many to have almost surpassed that of week-old shredded wheat that had fallen between the sink and the stove and gotten all mixed in with the lemon rinds and coffee grounds and hairballs down there, she said she was just an "ordinary working mum of two," trying to keep the wee bairns in clouts.

The $750,000 she got for her juicy flackwork will certainly help, as will the cool million she pulled down the same week for signing on as pitchperson for Weight Watchers America and swearing faithfully to uphold its diet regimen. Almost immediately, however, she stirred up a tempest at home by calling her own 8-year-old daughter "chunky."

Ferguson told the New York Post that she'd had to deliver the Weight Watcher's gospel to little Beatrice after noticing how fat the girl looked in a swimsuit: "I mean, she is only eight, but she can definitely pack it on a bit."

She then forbade her daughter to eat bread, quiche, chips or drink "fizzy drinks" (although Ocean Spray is presumably flat enough to qualify).

Weight Watchers UK sought to distance itself from its clueless compatriot, telling the Telegraph that the firm "does not believe children should ever be encouraged to diet." Several British child psychologists and nutritionists also weighed in, as it were, calling Sarah's public humiliation of her offspring harmful to the child's self-image and not very healthy either.

By week's end, however, the now-flush Ferguson had left all this tinkly hoo-rah behind her and landed in India, where she was said to be seeking an audience with a venerable holy man who specializes in -- it's really too obvious, isn't it? -- weight loss. Her new employers had no comment on this apparent heresy on the part of their prophet.