Epcot Center is a wonderful place.

It is the second-oldest in the cluster of theme parks Disney built in Central Florida. The fifth most-visited park in the world, it spans over 300 acres and sees upwards of eleven million guests a year. Something of a permanent World's Fair, it is dedicated to the celebration of human achievement in the realms of technology and culture. Its very existence is a monument to these concepts.

One of EPCOT's biggest draws is the world showcase. This section of the park features several distinct national pavilions highlighting the art, culture, and lifestyle of the country represented. When the theme park opened on October 1, 1982, nine pavilions were featured. Two more (Norway and Morocco) were added later, but let's put these aside for the purposes of discussion. In clockwise order, they original nine were: Mexico, China, Germany, Italy, the United States, Japan, France, the United Kingdom, and Canada.

The countries that made the cut into EPCOT's world showcase, and their position in the park itself, raises some interesting questions.

Russia's contribution to world culture is undeniable. What's more, Russia was one of the five United Nations security council countries. When EPCOT was built, could someone have made a conscious decision to purposefully exclude one of the five most important countries on the planet?

Our  guess: Maybe.

Russia and its allies (the Warsaw Pact nations) were ideologically opposed to the U.S. and its allies (NATO and the Western Bloc). One major sticking point was question of Communism, which Russia promoted.

Surely, the whole Communism thing would be enough to make one say: "A-ha!" and cut Russia right out of EPCOT, but remember - China was one of EPCOT's original nine, and China has been Communist since Chairman Mao founded the People's Republic in 1949. China, like Russia and the U.S., is a member of the U.N. security council.

So why might Russia be left out? Our theory: Because people might boycott the park if Russia were to be added.

Let's set Communism aside for a moment. During EPCOT's construction, the world was in the midst of the Cold War (roughly 1947 to 1991). The mightiest nations on the planet, the United States and Soviet Russia, were on the brink of starting World War III. These two, and their allies, possessed enough nuclear weapons to decimate all life on the planet. It should go without saying that these were frightening times. Maybe, just maybe, some planning executive thought it would be a bad idea to open a theme park showcasing a country that we thought wanted to bomb us flat - but that's just a guess.

In the real world, France is located in Europe with Spain to the west, Germany to the northeast, and the U.K. across the English channel to the northwest. Its closeness to Germany was likely one reason why the Germans invaded during World War II. It would take a concerted effort by Allied forces - American and British, for the purposes of our discussion - to oust the invaders.

At EPCOT, France is nowhere near Germany. Tellingly, the U.S. is between them - you know, in case Germany decides to start something - and the U.K. is right next door to France. There isn't even a body of water separating France from the U.K. - people get there via a footpath.

Germany and Italy, both Axis powers in the Second World War, are side by side at EPCOT, despite that they share no borders on the globe. The other major Axis state, Japan, is separated from its allies by the U.S. This may allude to how the war first ended in European theater, leaving only the U.S. to contend with Japan in the Pacific, but again, that's just a guess.

EPCOT's world showcase is built in a semicircle around a lagoon. If one were to set all of EPCOT's countries along a line, you'd get this:

Mexico, China, Germany, Italy, United States, Japan, France, United Kingdom, Canada

Mexico is at one extreme, Canada is at the other, and the U.S. is in the middle - and that's about the only part of world geography the park planners got right. To be fair, the individual pavilions are spot-on in terms of demonstrating the respective cultures. We mean to take a jab at the countries' placements relative to each other within the park.

Other than the aforementioned, there doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason as to why Mexico and Canada are the park's capstones. It works out just fine the way it is, but in a sense we're a bit dismayed they weren't placed closer together - or better yet, right next to each other.

Now we'll never know what a maple syrup margarita tastes like.

The Peryton
This scourge of Gibraltar and the Mediterranean is a carnivorous winged deer. When it flies overland, it casts a human shadow. We're fairly certain that Disney's Bambi would have turned out quite differently if Bambi's mother were one of these.

If all you ever knew of the legal process was what you saw in movies and TV, you'd think it was the most stodgy, stuffy, serious thing ever. And to an extent, you'd be right.

Lawsuits are about disputes, and disputes are serious business. In the old days (as in when B.C. followed the date), if ever there was a dispute between neighbors, the winning side was the one that didn't get its head bashed into its shoulders. Since then, the legal system has advanced by leaps and bounds, so that today we can pay others to do the bashing for us - metaphorically, of course. The "bashing" targets the other side's pocketbook, and the warriors whom we can hire for this purpose are called lawyers.

Go up the ladder high enough, and eventually a high court makes a decision that lower courts must adhere to when deciding similar cases. The higher court's ruling has effectively become the law. Private companies then compile these decisions into encyclopedic books that lawyers stand in front of so they look more knowledgeable in their advertisements.

Keep this in mind as we delve into the cases our staff have carefully selected for your reading pleasure. Remember, at one time or another, these court decisions had (or may still have) force of law. Remember also that we're not lawyers, this isn't legal advice, and the information presented here is put forth for the sake of getting a laugh or two out of it.

Mackensworth v. American Trading Transportation Company
367 F. Supp. 373.
United States District Court for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania, 1973

The employer's attorneys attacked the lawsuit with a hefty motion to dismiss. In turn, Mackensworth's lawyer did the unthinkable: he entered a concise reply - a rhyming limerick, no less. Not to be outdone, the employer fired back with a response - also in rhyme - triggering the legal equivalent of a rap battle.

You would think that this brief back-and-forth would be the end of it, but no. When the case came before the judge on appeal, he couldn't leave good enough alone either. The entire appellate decision, including the footnotes, rhymes.

The icing on the cake came when the decision was recorded in those encyclopedic books mentioned earlier. The analyst whose job it was to summarize and cross-reference the case wrote his contributions in verse as well.

And remember, people: this decision was written down in a book and was (or maybe still is) the law.

United States ex rel. Gerald Mayo v. Satan and His Staff
54 F.R.D. 282 (W.D.Pa. 1971)
United States District Court for the Western District of Pennsylvania

You'd think that the judge would throw out this case on the grounds of silliness, but no - he actually entertains it with sound legal discourse. In his ruling, the judge gives three reasons why the case against Satan cannot go forward. The biggest reason: Mayo didn't provide an address where Satan could be served with legal papers.

If the worth of a legal system is measured by the protections afforded to the most vulnerable among, then our system is foremost, because even the devil is owed process of law.

One 1958 Plymouth Sedan v. Pennsylvania
380 U.S. 693 (1965)
United States Supreme Court

In this instance, authorities seized the vehicle using forfeiture statutes. Pennsylvania can sleep easy knowing there is no monster sedan out to topple their buildings. But that doesn't mean all roads are safe - there's another 1958 Plymouth sedan with deadly intentions, and it's none other than Christine, the killer car from the Stephen King movie of the same name.

Ray L. and Edith B. Batman v. Commissioner
189 F.2d 107 (5th Cir. 1951), cert. denied 342 U.S. 877 (1951)

Holy tax liability Batman! This lawsuit involved a tax dispute between a married couple (the Batmans? Batmen?) and the government. Sorry, no caped crime fighters named after winged mammals and no police commissioners named Gordon.

I Am The Beast etc. v. Michigan State Police
1990 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 8792; W.D. Mich. July 12, 1990
United States District Court for the Western District of Michigan

The Plaintiff's name was shortened for brevity. His name, per the court records, is: "Am The Beast Six Six Six of the Lord of Hosts in Edmond Frank MacGillivray Jr. Now. I Am The Beast Six Six Six of the Lord of Hosts IEFMJN. I Am The Beast Six Six Six of the Lord of Hosts. I Am The Beast Six Six Six of the Lord of Hosts OTLOHIEFMJN. I Am The Beast SSSOTLOHIEFMJN. I Am The Beast Six Six Six. Beast Six Six Six Lord."

The ruling itself makes for dry reading, but the footnotes are of interest. Read the decision here:
http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/I_Am_The_Beast_etc._v._Michigan_State_Police

Give major-league contracts to all these pitchers right now. Better yet -- make one team composed of just these pitchers. They'll be back-to-back national champions 'til forever.

This game, "98Koshien", was released only in Japan. While we don't speak Japanese, we can infer this much - it's the baseball game where the developers give you far too much control over pitchers' movements than there ought to be in any baseball simulator. Our bosses think we lost a whole workday of productivity laughing at this.

As a parting thought, note how neither the batters nor the umpires seem to flinch at the pitchers' antics.

It's well into March, and we're still doing our Christmas returns - you know, returning Christmas gifts we never asked for, don't have a use for, or that just plain suck. Such as, for instance, these two video games shipped to our offices in late 2014.

Would I ever like to shake the hand of the man who told me macaws make good pets. I'd pull his hand right off at the wrist. That damn bird is the second incarnation of Stalin.

You feed it, you teach it to speak, and what thanks do you get? Cockeyed stares and the occasional: "Hello?" -always asked, never spoken, and always with a sarcastic lilt. And when it rains the feathered fiend goes into a screaming fit like a dot matrix printer with a terminal paper jam.

But it's smart, I'll give it that. It's smart enough to know how to screw with my head, and enjoy it. I've shouted "No!" at it enough times that now it shouts it right back.

"Wanna cracker?"

"No!"

"Wanna shut up?"

"No!"

"Want I should wring your neck?"

Beady-eyed stare.

That's not all. Get this. At work, when I get phone calls, I'm required to answer by stating my first name. I've been at that office for fifteen years, so the custom has followed me into my home life.

The bird knows my name and mimics me perfectly. Worse, it knows the sound it imitates is my name.

You don't know the meaning of disconcerting until you hear yourself speak your name - except it's not you saying it.

We're all about promoting literacy - it's good for business when your business is writing (smirk). Today, we discuss an internet language known as L33tsp34k (pronounced LEET-SPEAK).

As a language, L33tsp34k is believed to have originated on internet bulletin board systems (BBS's)  in the 1980's. The "L33t" portion stood for "elite" - those who had the greatest access rights to a particular BBS. The term was also often written as Leet, L33t, and most commonly in all numbers as 1337.

This crash course is by no means a complete study on L33tsp34k, but it's a start.

Rule #1 - The rules are not to be followed consistently.

Rule #2 - Substitute numbers and symbols for the letters they most resemble. Do this at random, as often as possible. Thus, the number 4 or "/\" can be substituted for "A"; the number 7 or "+" can be swapped for "T". But 7 could just as easily stand in for "L".

Rule #3 - Use an ampersand (&) for all word sounds that resemble "and", "an", or "ant". Sometimes, a number 7 is substituted for the ampersand for the same usage. This is because the ampersand is typed by holding the shift key while striking the 7 key - though sometimes, such as when typing quickly, typos occur. As a result, "sandbox" becomes "s&box";  "banned" becomes "b&", and so on.

Rule #4 - Emphasize words with the suffix "-zorz" or "-xorz". The phrase, "You rock!" becomes "Joo r0xorz!"

Rule #5 - When verbs end in "ed", either: drop the "e" and add an apostrophe; or just drop the "e"; or  drop "ed" and replace with "t". All are correct.

Rule #6 - Some words have their own meaning within the language. For example: "owned", "p'owned", "pwn'd", "pwnt" all mean the same thing - to "be owned" means to get beaten soundly. "W00t" (written with zeroes) is a celebratory exclamation that sometimes carries an ironic sense. A "n00b" (also with zeroes) or "newb" or even "nub" is a neophyte. This is generally a derogatory term. "Teh" is an intentional misspelling of "the" which started off as an unintentional misspelling. It means "the", but can also be used to add emphasis in the same way the word "very" is used. 

Think you know your stuff? Take a look at the Contract For P'ownership below.

Know /\77 n00bs by +h3#4 pr3sent$:

I. Identification of parties

w00t! The p/\rty of the first part is the l337 h4X0rs. l337 h4X0rs po$$ess the l337 skillz to pwn nubcake.

The party of the $econd part is the n00b suX0rs. (><). n00b suX0rs are teh weaksauce.

II. Transfer of P’wn3r$hip

ph34r my 1337 sk1LLz! n00b suX0rs hereby tr4n$fer$ 0wnage to l337 h4X0rs, whereupon l337 h4X0r shall 0wn n00b suX0rs. l337 h4X0rs g3t$ /\ll teh h34ds0t$ on newbz. It is under$tood that n00b suX0rs bl0wz0rs, so l337 h4X0rs will accomplish the requi$it3 number of HS in m|nute$ because l337 h4X0rs are teh r0x0r$.

Once the r3qui$ite h34ds0t$ have been a++4in3d, n00b suX0rs shall cease to be own3d and in$tead be pwn3d. Tran$f3r of p’wn3r$hip shall then be compl3t3d.

Proc3dure for n00b suX0rs f4ilur3 to transf3r own3r$ship shall be as follow$:

After first notice: warning in the form of “OMGZ WTF?!!!11one!!1”

After second notice: l337 h4X0r shall h4xx0rz n00b suX0rs b0x, causing n00b suX0rs PC to be spamm3d with “H0ly cr4pzorz j00 been 0wnzorzed upz quad dammaj pHre4kin n00b!1 lolz!” for five (5) consecutive days.

After third notice: !kick username: n00b suX0rs.

After fourth notice: !kick username: n00b suX0rs, in the head.

Signed, l337 h4X0r: ___________________
Signed, n00b suX0rs: ___________________

Attorney: E’li’†è Hàx0’r, 
13375p34k m4$t3r
pwn4g3!1 PH33R MEH!!!

But is Bowser really such a bad guy? When he's not leading his army of loyal Koopa Troopas and Goombas, he's been known to play sports (tennis, soccer, baseball, and golf) and even race go-karts with his purported enemies, the Mario Brothers. In order to resolve this and other questions, we figured we'd go straight to source and write Bowser a letter.

Determining Bowser's address proved tricky, as royalty tend to be discreet. If the original Super Mario Brothers game is any indicator, then it's a safe bet Bowser makes his home in World 8, which is accessible through a generic green pipe. We're left now wondering: how much is postage to the Mushroom Kingdom?

Read our letter to Bowser below.

King Bowser
1450 Koopa Castle Drive
Mushroom Kingdom, World 8, Generic Green Pipe #3

Dear King:

Thank you for taking the time to read this letter. We understand you are always busy plotting ways to conquer the Mushroom Kingdom, so we appreciate your time. If you would, your majesty, please take a moment to answer the following questions that have baffled us over the years.

Sir, we must commend you on the utter loyalty of your troops. You truly rule with an iron claw draped in a velvet glove. However you manage not to tear that glove with your claws is beyond us. Even so, through your effective leadership, your troops have achieved near-fanatical devotion to your cause. For example: you have trained the venerable Goomba to march tirelessly in one direction in search of Mario until it strikes an obstacle, in which case it reverses direction and walks on indefinitely. Then there's the Green Koopa Troopa, who like its Goomba comrade walks a similar pattern, except he is so devoted that he will happily throw himself into a ravine should his path come to an abrupt (and steep) end. How do you do it?

As the occasional (and temporary) conqueror of the Mushroom Kingdom, you probably have authority to install your children as dictators over each of its worlds. Nepotism runs in your blood, sir. But didn't you know that eventually they would cross paths with Mario? History has shown that Mario is more than a match for several of your children.

Similarly, why would you throw your most incompetent children into the fray first, in the easier worlds, and save your more adept children for the final, tougher worlds? We may be overstepping our bounds in saying so, but you probably don't like some of your kids too much.

As an aside, lordship, where did all these children come from? Was it an extra-marital affair? Because if so, you must really have one hefty child support bill. You are, after all, the baby-daddy to the seven lizard / turtle children running around your kingdom. And is it no coincidence that you always seem to have as many children as there are worlds in the Mushroom Kingdom that need rulers?

Just what do you see in Princess Toadstool? Forgive us for saying so, but she's not you’re type, and you're not hers. Now, we're sure you might have other reasons for abducting her: Koopa Castle is a big place, and no one expects you to clean all of its windows yourself.

Sire, have you watched that video on YouTube of that guy who beat Super Mario Brothers 3 in about 15 minutes? Because we did, and let us just say that must have been a dark day for you. Why didn't you use the same strategy employed in Super Mario Brothers 1? Remember? In those days you threw an unholy barrage of horizontal fireballs, paired with a confounding vertical arc of hammers. It was a genius tactic - Mario had to do a Mexican hat dance just to dodge all those deadly projectiles. And those hammers were utterly impassable to Mario, unless he willingly threw himself into the wall of pain, sacrificed his power-up, and used his temporary invincibility to pull the bridge release switch.

Two hits. That's all you needed to be rid of Mario. Just two hits.

As a side note, your lordship, you shouldn't stand on bridge over lava, if the bridge release switch is directly behind you. Perhaps you should have your Koopa Troopa engineers rethink your castle design.

Sincerely,

Darkwater Syndicate

We're not ones to make light of house fires or contagious diseases, but let's face it - Ms. Brown's story has prompted us to reconsider the medical definition of bronchitis.

Bronchitis: a medical condition characterized by shortness of breath and shortness of time, often brought on by inhalation of fumes from combustible sources, especially in the middle of the night when one is most likely to crave a frosty carbonated beverage. It may also be brought about through sudden, sharp exclamations, often in surprise, such as when rising from bed in the middle of the night and discovering a fire in one's apartment building. Reference the DSM-IV for comorbid conditions of clinical impatience ("Ain't nobody got time for that"), inexplicable sudden-onset of devout faith ("Oh Lord Jesus there's a fire!), and hypochondriasis ("I got bronchitis!"). The cure for bronchitis is application of viral media exposure. Immediately upon application of treatment, the condition will resolve itself.

Back in July 2013, we ran a two-part special called Krome Insanity. We delved into the backstory of the so-called “Krome Insane Asylum”, the abandoned facility in the middle of the Everglades swamp in Miami. (Read Part 1 and Part 2).

As we reported back in 2013, the facility was a spooky place – the photos certainly prove that. Chances are, if you ask anyone who knows anything about the place, they’ll tell you they know a friend of a friend who has been there. They’ll tell you that the facility was a mental health institution where only the worst of the “problem cases” were sent. They’ll tell you that this place burnt to the ground in a freak accident. They may even tell you that the spirits of the mental patients haunt its abandoned halls even to this day.

As it turns out, urban legends are all that run rampant here. The facility was never an insane asylum – what it was, was a Cold War anti-air missile base. Resultantly, we owe you both an apology and the real story, which you can get below.

The place is actually IFC HM-95, D battery. IFC stands for integrated fire control, and HM for Homestead-Miami. In a nutshell, this facility was where the army operated early warning radar to detect incoming bomber airplanes. Back in the early 1960’s rocket science hadn’t developed to the point where you could just press a button and expect a rocket launched from Russia to fall in the U.S. Their nuclear weapons couldn’t reach that far – that is, until the Cuban Missile Crisis. It was a simple thing for Russian rockets based in Cuba to reach U.S. shores in minutes, even seconds. Miami was ground-zero for nuclear conflict. The Cold War got hotter by the minute.

The U.S. rolled out a defense system called the Nike Missile System. It consisted of a net of radar sites to sweep the air for enemy bomber planes. If an enemy plane were detected, radar operators would place a call to their nearest missile launch site, located within a mile or two of each radar base. The idea was to have the missile base fire at enemy bombers and hopefully take them out before the bombers could reach their targets.

Over 200 Nike missile sites were constructed in the U.S., several in Miami alone. The fact that so many were built  – and so quickly – tells of the paranoia of the era. Once they were rendered obsolete, the armed forces generally either sold them off for redevelopment or abandoned the sites. The site that would come to be known as the “Krome Insane Asylum” is, in fact, the IFC base for missile battery D. It lies abandoned and largely forgotten, crumbling into the swamp that surrounds it. Its corresponding missile base was transferred to another federal agency – the Immigration and Naturalization Service – and now operates as the Krome Detention Center.