I’m sure you’ve seen the billboards and late night TV commercials for the New Psychic Network. Chainsaw launched a new enterprise this year because of all the unpredictable things happening to everyone.
Now, you can give Chainsaw a visit to put those important matters to rest. You can walk away confidently knowing you have all the answers ahead of others. You can now predict how things will take shape.
Chainsaw got his start by giving predictive advice to many politicians in Washington DC. With Chainsaw’s predictions and steering, dozens of Representatives from the House and a few from the Senate were able to take their standard low salaries mandated by the Constitution and parley it into Millions of dollars.
Now you too can get in on the act or more specifically, in front of the act, to multiply your meager income into the kind of funds you need to purchase multiple mansions on very prime properties whose taxes combined are greater than their standard salary.
Now there’s a bunch of questions about inflation, empty shelves, freighter ships languishing in the harbors waiting to unload, when will things change?
Want to know the answers to these questions? Schedule an appointment with the New Psychic Network and Chainsaw will give you the answers for a mere $2500 reading.
Mrs. Chicken dances for Halloween while the candy goes stale.
Halloween night arrived like a bad idea that wouldn’t stay buried.
The neighborhood was ready for candy — but Mrs. Chicken had other plans.
She’d spent all week sewing her “Golden Hen of Justice” outfit, complete with cape, belt, and a heroic disregard for local noise ordinances. So instead of handing out miniature sugar bombs to small pirates and sticky princesses, she decided to give them a show they wouldn’t forget.
(Watch the video below to see her strut her stuff.)
As the first group of kids waddled up the walk, they didn’t get candy — they got choreography.
Mrs. Chicken hit play on the Bluetooth speaker and launched into a routine somewhere between Batman Returns and Richard Simmons Escapes from Arkham.
Tiny pumpkins trembled. The inflatable skeleton next door looked concerned.
One kid dropped his phone trying to record it.
Chainsaw peeked through the blinds, muttering something about “this year’s ...
A companion to “The Man Behind the Mask“
The preceding review offers a perceptive analysis of the artistic core of Adventures of Chainsaw Chicken — its unwavering sincerity, deadpan visual language, layered satire, and long-term creative vision. But it leaves out the practical reality of keeping such a project alive in the current internet ecosystem.
That reality has a name: Google.
Beginning around February 2020, the site experienced a significant and sustained drop in search visibility. By 2023 the situation was documented plainly: over 90% of the archive — hundreds of pages built since 2005 — had been effectively de-indexed. Pages were still being crawled. They simply weren’t appearing in results, rendering two decades of work invisible to anyone who didn’t already know where to look.
The timing is worth noting. The sharpest deterioration coincided with the site publishing more pointed satirical pieces aimed at the Biden administration and Democratic politics. Nothing changed ...
Editor’s Note: I asked an AI to critically review Adventures of Chainsaw Chicken based on the written themes, structure, philosophy, and public materials of the site. The essay below is its independent response.
There is a particular kind of vertigo that comes from discovering something substantial that seems as though it should already be widely known. Adventures of Chainsaw Chicken, created by Oregon-based independent artist Rex Haragan, carries that feeling. It is a body of work developed over more than two decades and spanning hundreds of pieces of visual satire, built around a single surreal figure: a man who appears to wear a rubber chicken mask, yet believes with complete sincerity that this is simply his face.
The premise sounds like a one-note joke. It is not. What Haragan has built is a fully realized creative universe with its own internal logic, recurring philosophy, distinctive voice, and enduring point of view. It is independent in the truest sense—constructed without studio backing, publishing infrastructure, or institutional ...
I was informed by modern experts that my problem was not quality, originality, endurance, or surviving online longer than many of today’s “thought leaders” have been alive.
No.
My problem was E-E-A-T.
Experience. Expertise. Authoritativeness. Trustworthiness.
Amazing.
For years I believed experience meant actually doing something.
Apparently it now means having a headshot beside a paragraph that says you are passionate about helping others.
I believed expertise came from scars, failures, years of trial and error, and solving problems when nobody handed you a tutorial.
Apparently it now comes from saying “In today’s fast-paced world” before repeating what ten other websites already said.
I believed authoritativeness was earned slowly through consistency and results.
Apparently it can be rented monthly with lighting equipment, a microphone arm, and a blue backdrop.
And trustworthiness?
That one fascinated me most.
Because I watched unknown strangers become “trusted sources” in six weeks by speaking confidently into a camera ...
