Best Of

Best of

Dexy of the Midnight Runners Vows Second Hit Coming

Dexy, of Dexy’s Midnight Runners, is off of his meds and back on the musical warpath. Several decades without a follow-up hit have not dampened the band’s hopes of a full resurgence.  When questioned about the band’s perpetual one-hit-wonder status, Dexy retorted, “What about Come on Eileen: Unplugged and Come on Eileen: the Instrumental?”  In a Discord Exclusive, Dexy told our own Cokie McGrath that the band is planning to name their upcoming chart topper, Come On Eileen…Really Already. I Mean for Fuck’s Sake, Woman.  Dexy later admitted this title might be shortened, edited, or set ablaze in a brown paper bag upon someone’s doorstep.

Is Obama Taking This Cabinet-of-Rivals-Thing Too Far?

President-elect Barak Obama has reached almost a point of absurdity by nominating the Snowmiser as Secretary of State.  Further complicating matters, the Obama team announced the nomination of his brother and arch nemesis, the Heatmiser, to the office of Secretary of Defense.  This is clearly beyond non-partisanship as the two refuse to work together on any level.  Key Washington officials warn that the brothers plan to abuse their newfound powers by expanding extreme weather-patterns into historically mild regions of the world.  The nomination of the Heatmiser, in particular, has caused a political firestorm (pardon the pun) amongst the liberal blogosphere. Many on the left are enraged by a choice that they believe threatens the ‘Arctic ice shelf itself.’

Obama Announces His Four Point Econ Plan: Orders Next Four Digits on Debt Clock

After talking with his new administration, President Elect Obama has made the decisive decision to order the hundred trillion place, the quadrillion place, the gazillion place, and the holy-shit-Batman-we’ve-gone-plaid-illion place for the national debt clock in Time Square, New York.  The rationale is twofold, first, a preemptive move is hoped to quell market fears by reassuring the public that the new administration is doing something about our out-of-control deficit, and, second, there may be some modest savings to the taxpayer by buying these extra digit-places in bulk.

Jesus’ Agenda Found!

In a cave near Tikrit, Iraq, Dr. Sterling Hogbein, of the Hogbein Institute and Brasserie, has unearthed a scroll revealing Jesus’ agenda. “This is huge,” claims Dr. Hogbein, “like the ‘second coming’ all over again.”

P.U.B.B. (Poets United for a Better Barroom)

A cultural parasite festers within the taverns and barrooms of America. Machinery grinds at our souls and sucks at our wallets. When the internet jukebox first hit the scene, we were lured by the unlimited access to songs and the improved sound quality.

Of course there would be inherent costs to these cutting edge  ‘improvements’.  We knew up front that we’d be paying more for each selection and still more for the dubious super-search option. And just consider how often these jukeboxes falter to the whims of the internet gods…but don’t worry, it never fails to take your money.

The time has arrived for all citizens, patrons, bar owners, and staff to stand up and demand that this mechanistic monster of malaise be barred for life! I’m calling for a return to the old school jukeboxes. Bring back the CDs, or the Happy Days 45s, or why not give the short-lived 8-track jukebox another whirl? I’m ready to grab some bottles and cans and start clapping my hands. I’m Rick James, bitch.

The bars and taverns are at the heart of our democracy. It is here within the American barroom where constitutional principles first arose. In times of national and international crises, we return to the bars to reestablish the roots of American greatness. Belch. Not only does a Barroom Bill of Rights facilitate justice, it also fosters respect and dignity amongst the clientele and staff. Fart.

All persons, including patrons, owners, employees, and drunks have un-ale-ianable rights to life, festivity and the pursuit of lapdance chicks (what were talking about?). These rights may only be infringed upon if the person’s actions violate the barroom rules that apply to all. It is the behavior, not the person that is to be targeted by bouncers. Therefore it is not appropriate for a person to be expelled from the bar because he is deemed ‘weird’ or ‘a jerk’ or because theperson is simply intoxicated. It is appropriate to ask a person to leave for hitting, inappropriate touch, harassment, profanity, dress code violations, property damage or the over Abbafication of your jukebox selections. Specific behaviors that led to the expulsion must be provided (preferably in song, or, better yet, epic poetry).  Thus, a written explanation will be presented to the ejectee and a copy sent to a mediator (I’ll take a crack at it) to rule on its barroom constitutionality.

The bartender and staff always reserve the right to refuse service of alcohol for any or no reason, unless this refusal of service is based on racial, religious, or sexual discrimination.

All advertised pints must be at least 16 ounces. A pint should always be cheaper per once, than a mug. A pitcher should always be cheaper than a pint. And hear ye, hear ye, from this day forth all jukeboxes, young or old, are required to display the number of unplayed songs that have been selected, or else the bartender must give the customer his money back.

There you have it. And back to the music for a moment. I’m frankly tired of plugging five dollars into the jukebox at midnight to later find it shutoff at 2AM with no ‘Mr. Roboto.’ Secret, secret, I’ve got a secret…

  • Article 1:Lose the ‘play now’ option? Just because some guy’s got money to burn, doesn’t give him the right to burn me!  The problem’s plain to see: too much technology Machines to save our lives. Machines dehumanize.
  • Article 2:The right to bare women
  • Article 3:Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto, domo…domo.

Band of Klingons Ruin Local Civil War Reenactment

In hindsight, the decision to host a Star Trek convention at the Gettysburg Inn on the same day as a civil war reenactment was a mistake,” admits hotel manager Sam Watkins. “Tragically, we discovered that fake muskets are no match for the bat’leth.”

Enter the Ghetto Shaman

The Ghetto Shaman

Traditional shamanic practices employ chanting, dancing, sweat lodge and fasting to induce altered states of consciousness.  Long ago, cave dwellers created these rituals to achieve insight and wisdom. With guidance from ‘plant spirits,’ shaman priests discovered roots, vines, cacti, and mushrooms that, when ingested, stimulated the nervous system, allowing access to perceptions of abnormal frequencies of consciousness.

Archeologists all concur that ‘psychedelic visions’ sparked the inspiration for the Paleolithic cave art found throughout the world, and may explain most of the Wal-mart midget sightings.  Many scholars even argue that hallucinogens are the very roots of rational civilization itself.  It’s odd that mainstream science agrees on the importance of hallucinogens in human development, yet these same scientists dismiss the significance of the perceived spirit world. The scientific community reduces these visions into mere random subjective byproducts of an abnormal brain.

The divine world of the gods, demons, angels, fairies, and hedge yetis have long been suppressed by Western Civilization.  On that note, meet the Ghetto Shaman.  He has seen the hedge yetis and has spoken to their king!  Too long has society locked the shadow side screams of schizophrenia behind the materialistic bars of insignificance.  Too long has society left the Ghetto Shaman shaking and quivering in his drunk-tank retreat (after the last Mardis Gras Enlightenment Party bust).

What are these spirit worlds where ancient shamans traveled to find health and wisdom for their people?  Does the shaman’s spirit world wisdom have any relevance today?  Our current medical and psychiatric ‘symptom cures’ leave us empty and unsatisfied, but who has the money for the Amazonian Sacred Healing Vision Quest?  Who has the time to beckon these ‘plant spirits.’

The Ghetto Shaman is closer than you think. He resides under the Market Street bridge (southside).  The Ghetto Shaman’s flesh has been affectionately stripped from his bones by the Thunder Gods and then reassembled during a seven day initiation/barcrawl.  Why do scientists balk at this?  Can I make this stuff any clearer? The Ghetto Shaman uses his own rituals, special substances, and ‘avante guard’ sexual techniques to stimulate the induction of unusual frequencies of consciousness (snorkel not included).

The Ghetto Shaman leads workshops on discovering your sacred parasite, as well as an interdimensional escort service (the inspiration behind the movie, Happy Hooker Goes to Narnia). The Ghetto Shaman’s ‘weekender,’ constitutes two days and two nights in the Raystown boiler room.  Rates vary—survival rates, that is, and for those concerned about last month’s ‘incident,’ the Ghetto Shaman is now CPR certified.  Home visits available—for no extra charge…well, one item from the fridge is the recommended donation and there is always the chance of a Forced Sleep Over (FSO).

Ayauhusca, DMT, peyote, Ibogaine and psilocybin are all illegal and difficult to unearth. No problem. Meet Mr. Nutmeg (spice of the gods), Robutussin, DM (nectar of the odds), and Maddog 20/20 (vine of the sods).  All three are legal to possess and with the right guidance can induce profound changes in the nervous system, accessing ‘abnormal’ frequencies of consciousness (don’t try this at home).

The Ghetto Shaman is also a wizard with the earth’s most life-enhancing foods like lentils, curry powder, cumin, and ginger.  A dash of this and sprinkle of that, add whole nutmeg and slow cook to a saucy paste (seriously, don’t try this at home). Toss it in a tortilla with rice and healthy puddles of Bob’s Big Bad Mamma Jamma Hotsauce ®.  Sell the recipe on-line to Jenny Craig.  Jumpstart the Further bus and get the band back together. It’s the Electric Nutmeg Taco Test. For the even more adventurous, there’s his Electraquilla Mad Dog Mess (for god’s sake, man—don’t do it).