RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition. He does have an amazing PATREON, but also *normal* ARTIST WEBSITE too.

Tuesday, September 26

CM NET CLASSICS: Ipecac For The Soul

[Mike DIKK is the only person I know of who still has an interest in doing zines like I do. He is also the only person I'd allow to write for my stupid zine who I've not actually met in real life. This was a zine he did I think, but a long-ass piece that was really enjoyable, and my disgruntled coke-addled asshole friend loved it, and he's usually, even through his disgruntled coke-addled assholery, a good judge of shit that's good or not.]
Ipecac For The Soul
Sometimes, I think I’m too hard on people for sucking, but last night showed me, that sometimes, I’m not hard enough.
If you're going to fucking write, and there's a chance of me reading, it better not be about what boring bullshit you and your friends did. Talk about SOMETHING that evokes some sort of emotion. I don't need to see your fucking grocery list or hear about how you saw a hot guy working at the mall. No one does. Your best friends don't. Your best friends fucking hate you.
On the other side, maybe it helps you to write about things. That's why some people give me TOO much information about how their dad beats them. I just don't know about those people. They just crave some sort of attention. You people probably didn't play little league when you were younger. You need some friends. Some real ones to cry to.
I love giving people inferiority complexes. Not everyone. I love my friends. I wouldn't ever do that to them. Just my enemies. It just so happens my enemies are much deeper in numbers than my friends are. I'd kill for my friends. I'd kill my friends’ enemies. My friends would kill you for me.
I had a job at Blockbuster once, I quit an hour before I was supposed to be there. Really, how many assholes would I have had to deal with if I worked at Blockbuster? Just about the same amount of assholes if I had worked at a major chain record store.
Last night I saw the EVE and Gwen Stefani video. If I worked at a record store and some guy came in and asked me about that song I'd punch him in his fucking face until I broke my fucking hand. It would just be like an instinct.
It's amazing how much shit they pass off as good music these days. You people eat it up too.
I kind of relate the same type of people who listen to that TRL bullshit with the same type of people who have boring ass zines. It's like you're born and raised and bred to suck. I guess it's not really your fault. You just fall into this pattern of crap and I guess once you get so deep into it, you can't get out. I wouldn't be surprised to run into someone that said:
"Hi, my name is Tina. My favorite movie is Titanic and my favorite song is "Break Stuff" by Limp Bizkit. Oh, I also do a zine."
Once you get sucked into the suck there's no way to stop sucking.
It's very close-minded of me to think everyone who listens to Limp Bizkit is the biggest fucking asshole on the planet, but fuck you, it's the truth. You show me one cool Limp Bizkit fan and I'll show you my 23" dick.
I watched TRL for 10 minutes or so last night.
It made me feel like falling face first onto a running chainsaw, sitting atop of a huge ten ton pile of salt, with a pool full of pirhanas waiting for me when I fall off the pile of salt and the chainsaw.
I don't know how to swim either.
I don't know if anyone else gets these feelings over something like watching television.
Later on that night I saw an ad for this program that combines Don LePrey with the Girls Gone Wild videos. It was this thing to show you how to pick up chicks while they show their titties.
In fifty years things like this will be in high school history textbooks under: Why the US was forced into becoming a communist nation.
You laugh now.
Sometimes I do bad things. I don't know why. I just do them because, shit, I don't have anything else to do.
I saw this fat lady walk by and stop and look at all the hair products. I'm sorry, but if I was as fat as this lady, priority number one would be LOSE WEIGHT. Priority number two would be GET A BETTER WARDROBE. (she was wearing very unflattering khaki pants, and some ugly sweater type thing.). My fifth or sixth priority would be HAIR.
Basically I was saying how I hate my town more than ever now. I'm getting the fuck out of here soon, whether it be by Greyhound or body bag. I'm fucking gone.
I hate people who advertise their vegetarianism. I don't mean like animal rights people. I mean people who INSIST on eating at stupid hip vegetarian places just because they're vegetarian and they have to make everyone else suffer by making them go to these shitty places and eat overpriced imitation meat.
If you liked the taste of meat THAT much that you eat imitation meat, well maybe you should think about your eating habits.
Vegetarianism is nothing to be proud of. Veganism isn't either. It's nothing you need to advertise by telling me how good the fucking tofu is at some dump near your house. No one is impressed by not eating meat. Most people consider you a pussy for not eating meat. Pussy.
I may or may not be vegetarian. If I were vegetarian I wouldn't drag people to crappy restaurants just so I could feel cool. I would let them choose and work my eating choices around it. Even McDonalds has vegetarian options. Not that I would eat there. Whether I do eat meat or not, McDonald's is just disgusting no matter if you eat flesh or not. Besides, I doubt their hamburgers actually contain any meat anyhow.
Do yourself a favor. If you're just not eating meat because you think it's cool to eat tofu and Boca burgers. Please stop. Boca Burgers are not as good as a Cheeseburger. They never ever ever will be either. Tofu is no barbecued chicken.
Order the salad and shut the fuck up. You pussy.
I fucking hate people. They make me fear leaving my house. It's not that I'm afraid. I just know by leaving, I'm subjecting myself to dealing with people's bullshit. Everyone seems to have a bigger chip on their shoulder than I do. It's like they act like the world owes them something. It's not my fault people are ugly, stupid, and fat, amongst other things. God did it. Don't blame me.
So many people are intimidated by my intelligence. I'm not trying to be conceited. It's the truth. I usually try and play it off, so they don't feel threatened at first, but people will HATE you just for the fact that you can insult them 35,000 different ways at the drop of a dime.
I'm not book smart at all, but I'm definitely quick witted. On top of having an excellent memory. Add that all up with my attitude towards life, and it just isn't pretty.
I'm just as quick to insult you as I am to hit you in the fucking face with a box full of nails. I have no respect for you. If you're not my friend, I don't care for you. You show me a reason to care, and I'll extend my hand. Until then, fuck you.
I just saw the Behind The Music on Styx. Those guys are the biggest bunch of pussies EVER.
Their singer quit because he was "light sensitive"
Styx has been a band for something like 38 years. They tried to be all bad ass on the special, but COME ON. Those guys are just horrible. I can't believe they wasted time by making a Behind The Music on them. I can't believe I wasted my time watching it.
Which brings me to my next point. REM is the new Styx.
REM are pussies and they've been around forever. They're bound to be making pussy music for at least 25 more years. Soon Styx will play with REM and the devil himself will rise up from Hell and it will rain hellfire and brimstone upon us all. We'll all die. Just because Styx and REM are a bunch of pussies. Then Ray Parker Jr. will be the opener for the Styx/REM 'Hell on Earth' tour.
I ain't afraid of no fucking ghost.
Styx and REM: Making the world an unsafe place for all of us who don't want to be subjected to pussy music.
On June 6th, 2006, I'm buying an ounce of pcp and putting a mix tape of Slayer and Neglect in my walkman and killing everyone on my hate list in the name of Satan. Join me.
I hate those kids that drive around in rally cars. You know, like modified Japanese model hatchbacks with stickers and shit on them. After the video game, Gran Turismo came out, this shit has gotten waaaaay out of hand. Every kid on earth wants some sort of Civic or whatever and make it look like some car from a video game with neon colors and shit. It's cool when you see like 3 a day but when you see 300 it's getting stupid. You're not a fucking racecar driver. You're not going to be famous from it. You're just going to be some dumbass driving around a small town racing some more dumbasses for like $50, meanwhile, you spent $65,000 of your parents money on making the cars top speed go to 120mph instead of the usual 100mph. If this isn’t right, fuck you. The rest of the money gets put towards your pretty little stickers and pussy paintjobs. Your car looks like it belongs in a fucking nail salon, not on a street. Now, I truly believe guys have a sexual obsession with cars. That's fucking gross. You people like to fuck your car. I'm done.
Do you have a cell phone? Well you're an asshole then. There's not much that is more annoying than some dumb shit talking on his cell phone while driving and not paying any fucking attention at all to anything else. I know you're not important enough to have to talk on the phone while you're in your car. You're just some piece of shit nobody. I see assholes all day driving around in like ‘83 Buicks on a god damned cell phone. NO ONE IN AN ‘83 BUICK IS IMPORTANT ENOUGH TO HAVE A CELL PHONE. I can't wait until they detect cell phone cancer. It's coming someday and all you motherfuckers know it. Your ears are going to fall off. Then We'll put all of you on a fucking island to hide you from the rest of civilization you one eared fucks. Hopefully it will be Monster Island and Ghidarah will fucking eat you. Probably not though, because you have cell phone cancer.
Which brings me to my next topic:
Rectal thermometers. That was a real bright idea. There's people that just make things suck on purpose. You KNOW the guy who invented the rectal thermometer knew you would get the same results if you stuck the fucking thing in your mouth or under your armpit, but he probably had a miserable life and wanted people to suffer by getting glass rods stuck up their ass and held there for silly amounts of time. How embarrassing is that?
I hope they make a reality TV show where the premise is tricking someone into using a rectal thermometer and then catching it on tape. Not just anyone though, but famous people like Keanu Reeves and some other dumb Hollywood bitches that I hate. I'd watch that show every day.
For the record, I've never had a thermometer in my ass, nor any other weird objects, including body parts.
Today I was thinking about some dumb shit. Did you ever think about how people have jobs where their sole purpose is to figure out ways to constantly improve something that really doesn't need much improving? Take toilet paper for example. There's some guy out there who's like: "Hi, my name is Robert I work for Charmin In the toilet Paper Improvement department."
This guy sits there all day analyzing toilet paper. 8 hours a day. 40 hours a week. Sitting at a little desk or counter or lab table or something, maybe he's even wearing a white lab coat, looking at toilet paper fabric under a microscope. Studying the texture. Looking at a rivals toilet paper to see what they're up to.
Then like every 6 months or so he discovers how to make the toilet paper 1/175th softer than it already was. So he has to call up the advertising department so they can work on a package. Then the cycle begins again.
You know around ten or so years ago, there was never improvement on anything as simple as toilet paper. Even tooth brushes for chrissake. You either had a regular old toothbrush or a toothbrush with a neck. Now there's about a 15-foot long section in any given supermarket just dedicated to different shapes and styles of toothbrush.
I don't really have a point here though. I'm not sure if all this is a good thing or a bad thing. On one hand, you have more variety, but on the other, I know there's some guy in a room somewhere studying toilet paper. I don't even know how one would get such a job. I do know that job probably didn't exist in 1990. If it did, there were probably a lot fewer toilet paper researchers.
Hello, my name is Robert, when I grow up I want to find out a way to make it even more comfortable for you when you wipe your ass. I'm a dreamer.
Only in America.
Why do fat people buy things like AB-Doers and BODY-FLEXes??
Now I can see if you lived in somewhere where it would just be too hazardous to go outside, like i don't know, Beirut. You live in America though. The fat capital of the world. You can go outside and jog or maybe not eat sticks of butter. You can't walk more than a mile without hitting up a gym somewhere. You know, the place where they hold ACTUAL exercise equipment and not things bought off of infomercials.
You see "fat" isn't really an adjective, it's more of an attitude. Fat people get into this mindset that every answer to becoming unfat is easy. They see these dumb commercials and they think it's an easy way out of their chunky cell. Yet, they still go to McDonalds Drive-Thrus. It's bad enough they go to McDonalds but at least go up inside. I mean, you can burn off a good 3 calories of your 1000 calorie Big Mac by moving your hooves.
Fucking fat people. If I were really fat, I would move to Ethiopia where they would look at me as a king. Or they might look at me as dinner. Who knows.
I don't like how nowadays these little fucking snot-nosed brat punk and hardcore kids have a store where they can go and buy their "rebellious" clothes. So now I see them at shows and they look all clean. When i was a little snot nosed rebel at the age of 16 I didn't have a fucking store that i could walk into to buy big dumb baggy pants and cool T-shirts with cartoon logos on them. Everyone at shows back then just looked really dirty because most of their clothes were from Good Will and our pants were cut at the bottoms because they didn't make stupid baggy "skater" pants yet.
We also didn't have to pay $450 for an outfit.
If you want to go to Hot Topic and buy those stupid pants and $20 T-shirts you better be hauling your ass over to a rave. I don't want to see it in my scene. I may be far detached from "my scene" but I'm older than you and I can tell you how it is. I don't want to see your clean ass at the shows I go to. I also don't want to hear about you starting another band that sounds like Hatebreed because you were 8 when Hatebreed came out, and they aren't even that old.
I know everyone always preaches about Unity and that dumb shit and how it's good that young kids are getting into the scene, but you know what, it's not. They aren't learning anything. No one cares about messages anymore. Those days have gone by. New Hardcore is just as empty as New Metal.
Man, I’m fucking pumped right now, I’m about to go put on Chokehold and do jump kicks off my couch.
In closing, don’t go to shows I'm at if you're wearing anything bought at Hot Topic. I know people say Hardcore is a big fashion show these days, and they're right. So call me Mr. Blackwell. I'm starting a dress code. You either dress "normal" or you better be crusty. If not, you're going to feel the MOSH! Hahaha, ok, I’m kidding about that last part, but for real. Stop being a little dumb dork and put on some normal clothes. Asshole.
I'm always thinking of dumb shit.
Today I was thinking about how the other day this girl came into my work. She was one of those people that come into your jobs and try and sell you cologne. I'm sure some of you know who I'm talking about. It's not real cologne, just imitation stuff that smells like real cologne.
She wasn't ugly. She was actually quite attractive. Which is weird. I don't know if you people know how one gets a job selling fake cologne, but it's just like getting any normal job. You see an ad in the paper, usually cleverly disguised as something that sounds cool, you go apply and you get the job. It's almost impossible not to get the job. The only thing is, it's such a horrible job that you really have to be at the end of your rope to take it and keep it. I mean, you have to be pretty low. Almost to the point of killing yourself to take that job and keep it. You usually don't get paid by the hour and you only make so much money off of each bottle of cologne you sell. So you can work 8 hours a day and possibly make only $20.
Now I was just wondering what the fuck happened to that girl to make her take that job. Like I said, it's normally a bunch of ugly people doing the job and you can just tell they're at the end of their rope. You can look at them and tell they have given up on life and chosen the path of a demon. I'm really over dramatizing this whole thing, but hey.
Somewhere down the line, this girl fucked up. Maybe she really didn't and I'm just thinking way too much, but I don't think so. She's most likely some runaway or some other odd crazy shit. Some of those people actually travel state-to-state selling that shit. Who knows?
Yeah so, I'm always thinking about some dumb shit.
I saw this thing on television the other night where dumb fucks freeze their dead dogs so they can go talk to them later on. I can think of way more entertaining things to spend your money on. Or even maybe less morbid things. I'm not too fond of staring at dead things. Talking to dead things is out of the question. I can't go up to a casket at a funeral. I can't even look that direction.
I don't see dead people.
When I die, I'm hoping someone will have sense enough to cremate me. I don't want any fuckers staring at my dead ass in a wooden box.
So me and my zine partner Jay Pud, wrote some e-mails to Steve Guttenberg asking him for an interview for the ol' zine. I got some sort of "return to Sender" e-mail back. So fuck you Steve Guttenberg. You're not even a real movie star and you can't answer a few questions. That’s like me going down the street and asking the lady who runs the Chinese restaurant to answer questions and she says she’s too busy. Who the fuck do you think you are Steve Guttenberg? You're not even as popular as Bobcat Goldthwait. Just because you were in a movie with Tom Selleck doesn't mean you're famous.
I also wrote to the Dad from My Two Dads. The one who isn't Paul Reiser, he hasn't gotten back to me yet.
I have no doubt in my mind that Steve Guttenberg and Other Dad From My Two Dads are sitting at home right now watching television eating Cheetos and they pretend to be too busy to answer some questions that may spark an interest in them because we won't pay them.
I'd pay them like $20 and that's overpaying to me. For real, who's going to see my zine and want to buy it solely on a Steve Guttenberg interview? Not that I sell my zine, but still. NO ONE will want to buy it because of Steve Guttenberg and I'm pretty sure his interview wouldn't even be the best thing in any given issue.
All of my friends and I have experienced the joys of Greyhound. My biggest fears being someone sitting next to me that smells or really just someone sitting near me and sparking up a conversation. You see I don't like when strangers talk to me. Especially guy strangers because they tend to bullshit a lot. Not bullshit about the weather, but tell me blatant lies like how they're hiding out from the law or whatever.
At least I think that's what they're saying. I never actually pay attention. I have my headphones on.
One time I had my headphones on, on the way to Mount Laurel, New Jersey and some lady sat next to me. She was very old. Well like 60 or so. She was talking to me for a good five minutes while i had my headphones on. So finally I took them off and I'm like "what?" and she's like "do you want a piece of chocolate?" and of course I say no. If someone on the bus offered me money, weed and liquor, I'd say no. It's a bus person. Everyone on the bus has some sort of fucked up reason why they're on the bus. Sometimes I'm excluded from this rule. Sometimes I'm not.
Anyhow, I decline the chocolate, then she proceeds to pull out and ALREADY OPENED Hershey bar from her POCKETBOOK. Then asks again if I'm sure I don't want a piece and I just put my headphones back on. She got off the bus for some reason. I think it was a smoke break. Although I smoke, I usually don't get off the bus for fear of someone taking my seat, looking through my bag or god forbid talking to me. I noticed she left her jacket on the bus and I was contemplating stealing her money, but i know there's no honor amongst thieves and some asshole would rat me out. See, this is why I don't leave the bus with my bag on it. Fuck that shit. I'd get back on and someone would be wearing my shirt and reading my magazines.
Almost everyday I wake up and something fucked up happens. Something that doesn't go on in normal life. I'm not exactly sure what normal life is, but if TV is any gage of what normal life is supposed to be, then I'm way off.
I've also noticed that I tend to surround myself with people that will definitely increase the chances of something fucked up happening. I'm subconsciously drawn to people that were programmed to crash and burn. I don't know what it is.
Why don't people say Information Super Highway anymore? What happened to that? That term was pretty annoying, but everyone just stopped using it at once. Did Madonna have an interview I missed that said saying 'Information Super Highway' wasn't cool anymore???
Speaking of Madonna, I hate people who only wear shit just because it's "in". If you're one of these people I sincerely hope a swordfish gets lodged up your asshole then a shark comes and tries to eat the swordfish so he rips your body apart and then you fucking die. Then I want to piss on what's left of you. THAT'S how much I hate people like that.
Some guy came into my work today. He had some really bad tattoos. Like tattoos they make into temporary tattoos that you get out of quarter machine. He had a cobra on his forearm, a side view of a skull on his upper arm and on the other upper arm he had an eagle. I know what he had on his upper arm because he was wearing a sleeveless METS shirt that was definitely not new. Fuck new, it wasn't even from the 90's. That's not a bad thing if it's a cool shirt, but it's a sleeveless Mets shirt. To top it all off, his beer gut hung a good 8 inches past his waistline.
Then people ask me why I hate everyone and I hate life. I see people like this on a daily basis. It just bothers me how shitty some people look. Just like giving up on all hopes of keeping themselves in somewhat decent shape. Or maybe somewhat attractive. It's the way of white trash I suppose. Someone out there finds a fat man with bad tattoos and a huge beer gut hidden inside a sleeveless Mets shirt from when Mookie Wilson played left field, attractive.
Sometimes I just go into super shitty people overload and I see all these assholes in one place at one time and it's kind of refreshing to know that I’m better off than like 60% of the population, just by looks alone. That's fucking sad, because I'm somewhat good looking, but I'm not THAT good looking. Then there's the whole brains thing, which makes me smarter than at least 80% of the American population. For real, I've taken tests in high school that told me so. Chances are I'm smarter than you. I bet that scares a lot of people.
You’re all dumb fucking idiots.
I hate you all. Not all of you, but a good portion of you. Everyday I'm forced to stare at ugly people and listen to other ugly people bitch and moan and complain about the most fucking trivial things because their lives are so worthless. Waiting in line to play lotto, or complaining at a Burger King because their food is taking longer than the usual 45 seconds to be prepared. It's like everyone is in a race to give up on life first. Gradually getting into a cycle of doing the same boring shit everyday until they're just some robot who works complains and sleeps every fucking day of their miserable lives not even caring that all they do is take up air and make me nauseous by just looking at how hideous they are. Once again, I hate you all.
I hate hardcore kids and punk rock kids who think it's not punk rock to watch football just because they had a shitty childhood that didn't involve organized sports. Then they'll say they were too poor for organized sports growing up which is bullshit, because I was FUCKING poor and my mom still could spare some money to send my ass to little league so I didn't grow up to be some dumb fucking goth kid who hates everything because they couldn't do well in little league or kick a fucking ball in kickball.
Now I suck at sports and I'm only good at sports if they're on a video game. Then I fucking rule it.
I utilized the word, "fucking" four times
Anyhow, watch football, and if you have a kid make sure to enroll them in a sport so they don't grow up fucked up. Even if they're a little skinny kid and they end up being like that nerd on the Bad News Bears who never played but he kept score. Ogilvie or whatever. That kid still avoided growing up fucked up.
Last night I watched this thing about these fucked up karate disciplines on the Discovery channel. The first discipline was this thing called "juko-kai" and when it first came on i thought it was wack because all their strikes were really pussy strikes and everyone doing it looked like they played bowling or maybe went to bars and watched monday night football. Really trashy people. Even the 'master'. Then, they showed what Juko-Kai is all about. It's about not feeling pain. These motherfuckers are getting chopped in the throat full force and not even flinching. Then kicked in the stomach. Then getting struck by multiple people while blindfolded so they don't know where or when it's coming. It was just scary that these white trash dudes and girls knew this stuff. It makes me never want to fuck with anyone from the Midwest. Then they showed the sacred pussy art of Ninjitsu.
It's funny thinking about people practicing "ninjitsu" in the 21st century. I mean, REALLY think about that. When are you going to need to know how to use specific weapons and Japanese rice to take down a foe? While doing this in a black Halloween costume. Geesh. Ninjitsu was cool when I was like 9, but now it's just pointless. There was no need for Ninjitsu after the advent of guns. Or pretty much anytime after like the mid-1900's. No one hires ninja spies to assassinate people anymore. That's what the El Salvador Death Squad is for.
The Ninjitsu master was one of the last living true ninja in the universe. I bet he's lonely. No doubt he could kick my ass and all, but ninjas can't stop bullets. If ninjas aren't in the woods or in the dark, they're pretty useless. Pretty much any type of martial arts discipline kicks ninjitsu's ass. Except maybe like Tae Kwon Do. Like my friend brought up last night: any kind of discipline that a 12 year old can get a black belt in isn't that great.
Actually afterwards when I started falling asleep they were showing Aikido which is even more worthless because Aikido is all about being graceful and pretty while kicking ass. Aikido is what samurais used when they weren't chopping necks. Most samurai were pretty hefty, that's why Aikido sucks.
I'm still pretty sure all these people could kick the ever-loving shit out of Steven Segal though. With no problems at all.

#51 RAP TAPES: A Wolf In Sheep's Clothing

I tell you what, they had a song that was popular as fuck, and half their songs were made mention of how big their dicks were or how much they liked sex, and I bet from their YO! MTV Raps popularity they got mad white girl pussy, and if I was to make a list of like the top ten most important reasons for rap music, having sex with white girls would be there, probably like #5 or #6.

Thursday, September 21

#52 RAP TAPES: Politics & Bullshit

PUERTO RICO! HOOOOOOOO! BLACK PEOPLE! HOOOOOOOO! PUERTO RICO! HOOOOOOOOO! BLACK PEOPLE! HOOOOOOOOO! PUERTO RICO! HOOOOOOOO! BLACK PEOPLE! HOOOOOOOO! PUERTO RICO! HOOOOOOOOO! BLACK PEOPLE! HOOOOOOOOO! PUERTO RICO! HOOOOOOOO! BLACK PEOPLE! HOOOOOOOO! PUERTO RICO! HOOOOOOOOO! BLACK PEOPLE! HOOOOOOOOO! PUERTO RICO! HOOOOOOOO! BLACK PEOPLE! HOOOOOOOO! PUERTO RICO! HOOOOOOOOO! BLACK PEOPLE! HOOOOOOOOO! PUERTO RICO! HOOOOOOOO! BLACK PEOPLE! HOOOOOOOO! PUERTO RICO! HOOOOOOOOO! BLACK PEOPLE! HOOOOOOOOO! I may not know much about whatever it is they call reggaeton, but I know this much. I used to play the fuck out of some Frankie Cutlass, and I used to buy the shit out of some Tony Touch reggae mixtapes, so I probably know more about reggaeton than most people with fake platinum Sean Paul medallions. I also know that whatever issue of Fader had those Nina Sky chicks on the cover, who sang the hook in that Noreaga song "Mas Maiz", it was in my bathroom forever and I fell in love with those two chicks like seven thousand times, wishing they were my full steezies. HOOOOOOOOOOO! FULL STEEZIE! HOOOOOOOOOO! COCKER SPANIELS! NOOOOOOOOOOO! FULL STEEZIES! HOOOOOOOOOO! COCKER SPANIELS! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Wednesday, September 20

#53 RAP TAPES: It Was Written

Illmatic, being one of the greatest EPs ever, just made one salivate at the prospect of a full-length Nas album. And this was good, but it suffered from the type of over-production and unnecessary guest spots that hip hop is plagued by nowadays. I dug it, but it, and most definitely later Nas offerings, show that whole hunger-as-a-necessity in hip hop, because once somebody is discovered, known, and paid, they tend to be less worth a shit. There's also a certain weirdness with being a hip hop head, even if I'm not that now, but I was then, hardcore. When you "know" of Illmatic and what Nas was doing, and then you work at some shitty newspaper in the composition department and the lady next to you who's forty and has three kids is singing the hook to "If I Ruled The World" and the fat white girl across from her is comedically calling back "imagine that", it kills the beauty of the underlying underground nature of hip hop. And that's some serious expert whiteboy analysis. White people like me love shit until other white people love it, then it gets sullied, which makes us hate white people more, except not ourselves for some reason, which creates conflict inside of us that causes us to pretend Eddie Griffin is funny.

Tuesday, September 19

NFL DORKERY: Western Division Teams Ranked

#1: Seattle Seahawks (2-0)
I was so disappointed with how shitty my first rankings turned out this past weekend, that I decided to devise a highly non-complicated mathematical formula for ranking these fuckers, so from here on out, scientifics will be involved. Ironically, my boy Scientific Loftin is a huge Seahawks fan for some reason, which means his whole life he has rooted for a shitty football team - until now. Still being the #1 team in the two western divisions is like being the smartest kid in special ed. The Seahawks have two major factors going against them... Number one, Mike Holmgren, perhaps the most overrated coach ever in the history of people rating coaches in inflated manners, is their coach, which means they won't be shit. And secondly, Shaun Alexander is a punk. I rank him number two in the NFL behind T.O. as a guy who is trapped in the closet, so to speak. Alexander will whip off 3 billion yards during the year again this year, and then flail and faulter in the play-offs. I was actually surprised they made it to the Super Bowl last year, as they almost lost to the Redskins, which is like losing to a team that doesn't even have a quarterback.

#2: San Diego Chargers (2-0)
The biggest strike against the Chargers is that Marty Schottenheimer is their coach. Were I a Chargers fan, I would've felt better backing Drew Brees than Phillip Rivers, as Brees all of a sudden decided to be good a few years back and you might as well ride that wave all the way through. And Ladainlian Tomlinson is probably the best football player, or at least the one that's most fun to watch, going today. And they are in the AFC West, so they should win like 13 games this year.

#3: Arizona Cardinals (1-1)
Man, if the Cardinals end up making the play-offs, I think you'd have to give Denny Green coach of the year award for like two years in a row. They've actually accumulated more than like three good players for once, and if Matt Leinart develops into anything remotely close to Carson Palmer, with the receiving fucks that AZ has right now, they might be a fun team to watch in a year or two.

#4: Denver Broncos (1-1)
The Broncos foolproof plan of plugging mediocre running backs behind the dirtiest offensive line since the late '70s has paid a decade of dividends for Mike Shanahan. But the unstoppable force of his genius has run full-on into the irresistible object of Jake Plummer's hippie-ass stupidity. If ever there was a QB destined to play out his career in arena league, it'd be Jake Plummer. Still, the Broncos are in the AFC West, so they'll have a decent season and might be able to sneak into a wild card berth.

#5: St. Louis Rams (1-1)
I don't like the Rams much, but my formula still ranks them ahead of the 49ers, who they just lost to, because shit, it's the 49ers... you gotta figure that shit was either a fluke or because of the Rams being momentarily more inept than usual, as opposed to the 49ers who have been steadily inept for some time.

#6: San Francisco 49ers (1-1)
See above. And what was up with that one receiver trippin' for all that time? Did that Alex Smith dude make bukkake films with the guy's baby's mama or something? I'm not really saying anything here, just adding a line so the pictures fall in line with each other. Fuck Joe Montana.

#7: Kansas City Chiefs (0-2)
Trent Green got knocked the fuck out. I don't think the Chiefs were gonna be that good even with him, but still, with some guy I can't even think of as their quarterback for the next couple weeks, they are doomed. Except for the fact they play in the AFC West, so even being doomed, they could win a couple games in the next month.

#8: Oakland Raiders (0-2)
Does Al Davis still believe in his own heart he knows what he's doing? I am afraid because Daniel Snyder seems to be on the Al Davis ownership gameplan of meddling and fucking things up, except Snyder is way ahead of Davis' pace, and without any Super Bowl trophies to help him pretend he knows what he's doing. Jerry Porter is laughing at Aaron Brooks while Randy Moss is going to be Randy Moss 100% any second now, and you got just a shitty shitty offense. I guess the defense might be okay enough, but how can you tell? Any defense is going to look good, just out of sympathy, when compared to that offense.


This was a pretty shitty issue, but I dug the early cover. A lot of this issue was shit I stole from other zines, in true zine fashion, but there was this one thing called 2nd Unemployed Friday about drinking beer with my dad, who's dead and gone now...
"I quit my job and I was down at my Mom's crib making a Wu-Tang mix tape for a white boy friend of mine, when my Dad called and said he was coming by to borrow my mom's jackstands and drink a couple of beers with me. I stopped making the tape and went out back shooting ball about the time he would show up because I was less of a nigger in his eyes shooting ball than listening to Wu-Tang. He showed up, we sat around drinking beer, listening to the local country station, with open lines, and I swear to Allah, some guy called in talking about how his 15 year old daughter was getting screwed by some older dude. The DJ told him to tell the cops, and the guy said, 'I would, but he's in with the law,' and this pissed my Dad off, the fuckin' law that is. He said a bunch of other funny shit, my dad that is, but I had done drunk a 12-pack already and it's 2 hours later and I can't remember none of it except for the guy calling the radio station. But I do recall my Dad hating his current wife (not my Ma Dukes) for siding with the pigs while watching Cops on TV, and really liking the new Travis Tritt song on the radio station."
I find it amusing how people think I'm some sort of internet gimmick, and I've definitely played that shit up so the nerds could get their comic book lingerie wadded up over it, but I'm very thankful for my mother's influence in my life. Had she not been there, I would've most likely been a real piece of shit. A perfectly happy piece of shit, but a piece of shit nonetheless.

#54 RAP TAPES: No Pressure

Ahh... what a piece of crap this first solo excursion by E-double was. I dug the beats a lot, but beyond that, there's not much to this tape. The one saving grace, and it's a large saving grace, is "Hostile" which introduces the world to Keith Murray, and this verse he did set us all up to think he was the next Jesus, but he never followed through completely. Still, if I was gonna make a retrospective 90 minute mixtape of EPMD shit and the related posse offshoots of necessity, "Hostile" would be up on that motherfucker definitely.

Sunday, September 17

#55 RAP TAPES: From Pyramids To Projects

Two Kings In a Cipher had a song called "Tko'n" that was the jam, which caused me to buy this shit back in the day. Relistening to it, "Tko'n" is not the jam, at least not that much, and this tape sucks. Very lightweight Premo-wannabe jazzy beats and cliffnotes black intelligentsia, which was par for the course at that time as that was that day's tinkerbell beats with bling bling blind choruses. It is good to know, however, two kings could have a cipher and RCA Records was down with putting it out for mass wage slave consumption, should that have happened if it had been written, if it had been done.

Friday, September 15

NFL DORKERY: Eastern Division Teams Ranked

The Pats are not going to be close to the team they were a couple of years ago, especially now that they shipped off Deion Branch, but Belichek seems good at squeezing blood from stones, and even with the rag-tag pack of vets and unknowns he has here and there, they should be good enough to get by in the AFC East.

I am a Redskins fan and naturally hate the Cowboys and always hope for their chartered planes to crash after each and every game, but to be honest, if they hadn't have given the Jags that win last week, I would've had them easily as #1 out of these two divisional sets of teams. No, I am not a believer in the intrinsic genius of Bill Parcells, because without a coked up Lawrence Taylor super destructing things on turf, Parcells would have no rings. And no, I am not a believer that T.O. is going to do anything that continue to be a big goofy primadonna as he attempts to keep his true homosexuality hidden deep in a walk-in closet. Simply looking at the facts, the Cowboys have spent a ton of top draft picks in recent years on defensive players, and a good chunk of those defensive players have turned out to develop into something that matches the hype, which is not usually the case with high draft picks. So even if they are depending on that blank-eyed doofus Drew Bledsoe to quarterback the operation, I expect their defense will be punishing at times as the year progresses, and that old cliche is it's defense that wins Super Bowls, or at least wins the overrated NFC East.

Okay okay, we get it... Nick Saban looked like a pussy tossing his challenge flag. Nonetheless, he has given the Dolphins confidence again in the last two years, and I think with a somewhat competent Daunte Culpepper at the helm rather than Jewish Ivy League quarterbacks, they could do some damage, at least by the watered down standards of NFL free agency salary cap era football.

Eagles get a high ranking just because they were one of the few East division teams to win last week, and they should be much better this year now that the franchise had their T.O. tumor removed, but still, the offense lacks places for Donovan McNabb to put the ball. Donte Stallworth? Didn't the Saints dump that guy? He's the answer? What the fuck? And their defense just keeps getting older and older, but they've been a good team, and they jobbed out last year, so I expect the NFL to reward them with some beneficial booking and a wild card appearance on the big play-offs pay-per-view.

An offense full of ballet-like motions before the snap and a defense who's star is apt to get 15 yard personal foul penalties in the closing two minutes of a tight game... this is not the Joe Gibbs style team I grew up idolizing. They have been much ballyhooed though, so I will give them credit for now, and I am a naive fan, and I believe their success is not entirely contingent upon but needs my blind optimism to help them along. So I fully expect them to go 15-1.

Other than Jeremy Shockey, all the Giants best players are 47-years-old. And fuck Eli Manning. He hasn't done shit. I mean, his brother is like 9-time Pro Bowler and Peyton hasn't done shit, being the Jim Kelly of his generation thus far, so Eli is like if Jim Kelly had a shitty overhyped younger brother who came to the NFL and sucked for seven years before becoming an insurance salesman like all old NFL quarterbacks do.

#7: NEW YORK JETS (1-0)
The Jets have gotten no respect this year, and I don't think they'll be worth a shit, but I think they'll squeeze more out of this season than most experts give them credit for. Chad Pennington looks and sounds too much like that skater boi antagonizing super-prep rich kid from '80s films to not at least be fairly successful at any thing he does, before he like rips his shoulder off again.

Your starting QB is J.P. Losman and your superstar RB was paralyzed like two years ago. Sure, you played the Patriots better than expected, but the Patriots are worse than expected and you ended up losing because of a fuckin' safety. You are the Bills and it's going to be a shitty season.

CM NET CLASSICS: Strap On The Feedbag, Fattie

[Recently heard from my man Adam Fast, who is heading out to the middle east as part of the burgeoning supply industry attached to the pretty well-set military operations going on over there for ever. Towards the end of the C-Mack site, when I was losing interest and Mike DIKK had his own site, Adam Fast was the most prolific contributor, and I was always dug his stuff, even if I did more editing to his stuff than anybody else's, mostly his textbook correct use of punctuation and my basic disgust with certain punctuation rules that I refuse to accept like any self-pretentious "writer" would feel appropriate. Here is a thing Adam Fast wrote on buffets, which I chose because I had heard at one point that Adam Fast was going to have a website all about competitive eating, which is something I've dabbled my obsessiveness in over the last couple years, and if somebody had actually done an all-encompassing competitive eating website, I would've been all over that shit.]
Strap On the Feedbag, Fattie
Buffets are the ultimate manifestation of American Gluttony. It is greasy excess in overdrive and a short cut to the Heart Attack Highway. All across this great land, fat people with fat hands push and shove as much food in their stomach as possible for the low, low price of $6.99.
My grandma loved buffets. She loved Old Country Buffet (OCB) in particular. In fact, all old people love OCB. That is why my cousins and I all called it Old Fuckers Buffet. The people in the dining room of the place looked like they were eating their last meal before they made their long walk home to the Lord. If you are going to die soon, you might as well do it with a full stomach. Grandma would drag the Grandkids out to the OCB whenever she was watching us. Depression Era mentality demands the most bang for your buck and at the OCB, you get a mother humping dynamite stick of food for a few measly dollars.
As a kid, I didn’t get much out of buffets. At most, I could put down a plate, maybe a plate and half. My fat ass cousin could eat for hours. He was a non-stop buffet warrior, even at the tender age of 12. I, on the other hand, was getting lectures from Granny about cleaning my plate. “Grandma gets very embarrassed when you leave food on your plate, Adam,” she would tell me. Well, Grandma also refers to herself in the third person so get over it. I do find it ironic that she was so concerned about me wasting food in a restaurant based on wasting food. While hunger runs rampant throughout the world, as well as in this country, we true blue Americans gather around long steam tables, overflowing with the goodness of meatloaf, catfish, mac-n-cheese, green bean casserole and over a hundred mayonnaise based salads. An American buffet is a middle finger in the face of the hungry. I would like to say I mind, but I really don’t. It is just how we are as a people. So, strap on your feedbags true Patriots and let’s talk about buffets.
Buffets have been around for as long as I remember but the Buffet concept seems to be growing at an exponential rate. While I have no facts to support this, the craze seems to have started with low rent chain steakhouses who began offering “Mile Long Salad Bars” and all you can eat Nacho Bars to go with their cheap cuts of meat and baked potato. As a kid, my family went to Bonanza, a low ball “steakhouse”, even though my Mom swore they sprayed the salad bar with a chemical that makes your stomach feel full. This prevents a 400 pound man from eating the restaurant out of house and home. Ponderosa and Golden Coral are of the same ilk. But the hungry masses craved more and that is when the shit got international.
Almost over night, every Chinese restaurant in my area went from being an actual sit down dining experience to a trough style pig out. Gone are the days of having a waitress in a cheesy Kimono style dress serve you sweet and sour chicken. Oh no…now you have to get the goods yourself and watch Bob and Susie Midwest shove as much General Tso’s down their throat before they fight for their fortune cookie. Great Buddha, please give us enlightenment!
Chinese buffets rub me wrong for a couple of reasons. One, I resent the fact the Asian people have to water their native food down so that it is palatable for idiots. When Asians come to this country and open a restaurant, regardless if they are actually Chinese or not, they have to go with a Chinese restaurant if they want to succeed. Here in the Midwest, Korean, Thai, Vietnamese, etc, restaurants are few and far between. However, “Chinese” joints pop up like pimples on a kid with out an Oxy Pad.
Secondly, after already dumbing down the food, the owners have to further degrade themselves and put a bunch of bullshit out like a salad bar, chocolate pudding, and a friggin’ sundae bar. Here is a novel idea, how about some more Chinese food on your Chinese buffet? If I wanted the nacho bar, I wouldn’t come to a place called the Great Wall.
After a while, pizza joints wanted to get in on the crazy train we call buffets. I respect pizza places for trying, but of all the buffets in this great land, they are nothing but half steppers. In most areas, between the hours of 11 AM and 2 PM, you can find numerous chain pizza places slopping out all you can eat pizza for lunch. Included in the fee is the smallest and most retarded of all salad bars. I really don’t even know why they bother. To me, pizza buffets should more appropriately be called “Get Rid of the Toppings No One Eats”. How hard is it to make a pepperoni pizza? The pizza place throws up one “normal” pizza and within three minutes the shit is gone. What is left? A bunch of pizzas with combinations so nasty, the homeless wouldn’t eat them.
The only exception to the rule of pizza buffets comes in the way of an all buffet, all the time pizza joint called Ci-Ci’s. This beautiful chain of restaurants in the South and Southeast have made the pizza buffet an art. It seems every small town in Texas has one. At Ci-Ci’s, if you don’t see a pizza under the heating lamps that you like, the mo fo’s will make you half of a pizza of whatever you want AND announce the arrival of said pizza in a loud, obnoxious voice. Actually, everything they do at Ci-Ci’s is borderline obnoxious. If a Mexican pizza gets pulled out of the oven, the entire staff yells “Uno, dos, tres, Ole! Mexican Pizza is up!” Unfortunately, I forget the chant for a BBQ pizza. They also equip most places with a large screen TV that alternates between football (when in season) and the Cartoon Network. And what does it all cost? The whole sha-bang will run you $4.99 and that includes a drink.
Another half stepper in the buffet arena is the “home-style” eatery. Home-style eating is pretty much a Southern thing but these joints could be in the extreme North or on the East Coast. I know I didn’t see any when I lived in California. Regardless, these places serve shit in really big bowls or walk around with big bowls and scoop out how ever much you want upon request. Want more corn? No problem. Biscuits? Right here. The reason I call these half steppers is that they have no organized human trough for people to get their food. They just don’t leave me with a feeling that I am strapping on a feedbag to eat.
Believe it or not, I do like buffets. It is just that sometimes midway through my second plate of spaghetti, nachos and crab salad, I look up and grow disgusted at the sight of people lined up over a steaming table of nuclear food. Everyone talks about how America is growing fatter because of fast food, but why not point a greasy finger at buffets? On the other hand, I go to a regular restaurant and feel like I am getting taken for only one plate of food at $12. Hell, I could have spent half of that and had all I could eat. Then again, I don’t feel like complete and utter shit when I leave a regular eatery. Most of the time, after I go to a buffet, I end up vomiting. Then I am pissed because I am hungry again.
So for dinner tonight, celebrate excess by grabbing the kids, strapping on a feedbag and heading on down to your local buffet for some Country Fried American Gluttony.

#56 RAP TAPES: The Lost Generation

There was a point where the Wu was infallible - an almost indestructible force of MCs and producers that topped anything ever before seen in hip hop... maybe even better than The Juice Crew even though the Wu lacked the individual star power of The Juice Crew, they more than made up for with a thick stream of elevated rappers attacking sparse grime-filled instrumentals.
But then the Wu started showing their weaknesses, and for me, being a big Wu-head, this was long before Wu-Tang Forever came out. In fact, I consider that album to be pretty shitty, compared to their discography up to that point. But the real first chink in the armor to show itself up in full album form was this here Shyheim tape. His "On and On" single got heavy play on BET and was a good song of its own, and it made me go, "Whoa, there's like a kid division of Wu-Tang? That's crazy." But the full-length tape was a shitty capitalization on the Wu-Tang pop culture phenom going on. This was Wu-Tang's JV team trying to show and prove on the varsity level, when they should've hung in the shadows for a while longer, or at least just stuck to the occasional single.
I think what bothers me most about this tape, and others done by pre-pubescant male rappers, is the sex and violence songs. I know times are hard now and the world is a ghetto and kids give each other blowjobs all the time at recess, but come on man, when you're 12-years-old, you are not moving kilos and clocking mad bitches. It's fuckin' stupid, and rap like wrestling is something that you enjoy suspending disbelief so you can go, "Yes, Young Jeezy is selling a ton of cocaine throughout the nation," or you can think, "Yes Vinnie Paz is taking Illuminati overlords to task," but you're not gonna think that some little kid, no matter who he rolls with, is getting his dick sucked every night. And if he is, that kid is gonna end up being fucked up like Michael Jackson, and perhaps thrown down the hill by Mohammad.

Saturday, September 9


Ahh, another old shitty zine. For the sample, I'm gonna give you something that is inducer of one of my proudest moments of doing a stupid zine, as someone who knows the guy was hanging and Axl Rose ended up reading through this issue of The Confederate Mack, and he found this list to be greatly amusing. That shit has always made me proud, which also makes me a fag for being such a punk for some famous fuck I don't even know acknowledging my existence. Why are we all such bitches for celebrities? R.I.P. Crocodile Bill Dundee.
Anyways, here's 16 Reasons Dogs Are Better Than Girlfriends:
"1. When you come home from work pissed off, and you beat your dog for some simple reason, he doesn't involve the cops.
2. Dogs expect sex from behind.
3. You can let a dog out of the house and it won't run off with another owner.
4. When a dog does something you don't like and you yell at it, it cowers in fear.
5. Women tend not to lick your feet.
6. Women only come in one color at a time.
7. It's easier to tell when a dog is happy.
8. When you're holding something a woman wants, and you pretend to throw it but hide it behind your back, the woman is not tricked.
9. When you fire a warning shot in the air, a girl runs to the authorities, a dog just runs away.
10. If you're gone for a couple days without explanation, a dog will be excited when you walk back into the house.
11. Dogs don't mind listening to The Geto Boys.
12. If you ever happen to walk in on your dog masturbating, it doesn't hurt your feelings.
13. When you kick your girlfriend in the ribs, she won't necessarily move out of your way.
14. Statistically speaking, your dog will die before you do, your girlfriend won't.
15. A dog barks at strangers, a girlfriend fucks them.
16. Girlfriends aren't too happy when you throw a stick in the middle of the river and tell them to get it."
Oh man, I hated me some women back then. A couple of stupid slut girlfriends in a row will do that to a man.

#57 RAP TAPES: I Wish My Brother George Was Here

Being a white guy into rap, I find it personally important to hate most things that white guys into rap enjoy. But I can't do it with this one. I love hearing about how dark-skinned girls are so great, and about life in the meadow. It's funny to imagine Del and Ice Cube, true cousins, hanging at the family reunions when they were 11. And "Sleepin' On My Couch" is definitely my favorite song off this tape, mostly because I was the antagonist character from that song for like two years of my life at one point. Those were good days. When you sleep on someone's couch, have a spare key to the back door, and still can somehow bring a woman "home" to sleep with you, on the couch, much to the uncomfortableness of the apartment rent-payers come morning time, that's quality lifelong memories that can't be stolen by terrorists nor republicans.

Friday, September 8

#58 RAP TAPES: The Most Beautifullest Thing In This World

Man, when I first heard that verse Keith Murray kicked on that Erick Sermon song "Hostile", I thought he was gonna be the greatest shit ever. He ended up being pretty great, but never lived up to his full potential I don't think. He did have that one video where he poured a forty on his cereal when he woke up, and he gave the world, or at least popularized the term "getting lifted". I sometimes wonder where Keith Murray is now, and him being from Long Island and looking like a regular kinda guy, I always imagine him managing a couple of Foot Lockers and having two kids, the oldest of which he helps coach in football in the local youth league. I imagine he doesn't get high anymore, pretty much only drinks a couple of Heinekens now and again, and he and his wife have two nice pieces of African art, one small thing in the bathroom and one larger painting from Senegal they used to have hanging in their bedroom, but now that the boys are getting older, they have it hung right off the main hall going into the family room. And I imagine Keith Murray loves some video games, and now that his oldest is getting older, he can't always keep up with him out in the yard, but he can whoop his ass at some Madden.

Thursday, September 7

#59 RAP TAPES: ATLiens

I remember somebody, probaby an expert whiteboy, listing the Outkast releases in order of greatness simply from beginning to end, which mostly made sense to me, except I really thought I dug Aquemini more than Atliens. Going back in time to relisten to shit though, I've changed my mind. Other than a couple of songs I really love off of Aquemini, it's the same indistinguishable quality but not interesting enough crap that the Big Boi half of that hipster critics craptacular Speakerboxx/Black Guy Sings In Funny Clothes Below shit. Atliens though, I dig. It's a weird tape, but I dig it. Dre 3000 was finding his weird-ass self on this tape, for sure, and if I ever become a Christian rapper, I'm totally sampling the fuck out of that "they call in horny because it's devilish" line.

Wednesday, September 6

#60 RAP TAPES: Little Big Man

You know, one thing that gets so overlooked in shit, and what helped make Rap-a-Lot awesome, was the beats that Mike D and John Bido hooked up. That was some good shit. I own three copies of the single for "Ever So Clear", off this tape, because that might be my favorite beat ever to just listen to over and over again. Bushwick Bill is such a gimmick rapper on the surface, like most Rap-a-Lot acts of the time, but if you break through the gimmick, and you get shit like "Ever So Clear" or "Copper to Cash", it's top quality stuff. It wasn't great enough a record for me to forget my better sense and get that Phantom of the Rapera or whatever the fuck that second solo Bushwick album was, but I still dig this tape. I think I made a mixtape not too long with "Copper to Cash" on it, in fact.

Death Valley Driver Video Review #158 Hype!

DVDVR #158
A little late with this link, but this is the last DVDVR I contributed to, from like a month ago. Dean's gone wrestling crazy and since done a DVDVR #159 as well, but I was out of the loop of motivation for that one. I should be back for #160 though, not that anybody gives a fuck, nor would anybody who might give a fuck even read this. Fuck it; at least I'm not Toby Keith.

Tuesday, September 5

CM NET CLASSICS: Sky-Blue Salvation Saturday Night

[My man Acehole resurfaced after a few years outside of each other's frame of reference recently, and this was always one of my favorite things he did for my site. He has a music critic's ear, which can suck, but he loves music, and I've seen brief glimpses of parts of his strange and elaborate record collection, so I love hearing what he has to say on certain sub-genres, such as this little piece about records that would save even my soul.]
Sky-Blue Salvation Saturday Night - Records That Will Save Your Soul by Acehole
1 - Rev Charlie Jackson - Louisiana Gospel Dynamite cassette (Curlew) 1988
Easily one of the finest recordings in my collection. Pure gutbucket soul shouting cum gospel-blues fury. The Holy Ghost in one hand, a switchblade knife in the other. Jackson was at times a sharecropper, a Mississippi cowboy, operated heavy machinery just outside of Houston and did the good Lord's work every mile of the way traveling in an dusty, late-model Cadillac-a guitar draped across the backseat and a the Holy Bible riding shotgun. By the early seventies lured by the prospect of better wages, a fish fry every Saturday and preaching the good book come Sunday Rev. Charlie found himself in Baton Rouge, La where he forsook all otherworldly pursuits for a full-time life of the cloth. Circuit riding with Shreveport's own "Two Winged Preacher", Elder Utah Smith they hit every Baptist church, Holiness shout and tent revival within a days drive from his trailer emitting the Holy Ghost through jagged guitar chords and hoarse vocals. Playing behind his back and between his knees like Jimi Hendrix lit afire with the Lord's Gasoline.
The self-released cassette, Louisiana Gospel Dynamite- collecting all of his sides for the New Orleans based, Booker label, stands as a testament to the pew-burning power of singing the good word through clenched teeth and furrowed brow. One need not be a Christian or religious at all to appreciate the full-blooded thunder of one-man whomping his guitar with a fervor obviously not of this world.
2 - Sister Rosetta Tharpe - "Precious Memories" Best of Sister Rosetta Tharpe LP (Savoy)
If Aretha Franklin (daughter of Rev CL Franklin) is widely regarded as the Queen of Soul, then Sister Rosetta Tharpe is without a doubt the Queen of all Sanctified singers. She a possessor of Arkansas accent and mercurial guitar skill straddled that great divide between pious condemnation and secular understanding. On my mantel piece there resides a wrinkled photograph of Rosetta Tharpe clad in a white fur coat, playing a Gibson SG that could've easily found it's way onto the slumped shoulders of Angus Young, in front a train station belting out a paean to those twin brothers, sin and redemption and staring into the sky looking for all the world likes she's waiting for deliverance or a nip of warm gin.
3 - Jones Bros - "Amazing Grace" Sun Gospel (Bear Family) 2000
Contrary to popular belief "Amazing Grace" was written neither by Joan Baez nor Cissy Houston; it was wrought sometime in the mid eighteenth century . It was the work of one English preacher by the name of John Newton. "Grace" was first published in 1779 in a book entitled the Olney Hymns. It stands as the probably the best known and possibly the best-executed tribute to hope in the English language. Written by a slave trader embittered with God due to his mother's early death, Newton's tale is one of wickedness. He captained a slave ship and abused his crew. Once, after falling overboard, his crew threw a harpoon at him rather than lower a boat.
It was during this particular torturous and violent storm at sea that Captain John Newton was saved unto God. The starving crew singled out Newton as a "Jonah" or bringer of bad luck, but in that near-death experience Newton had seen the light. The ship was named the Greyhound but it carried not dogs nor vodka.
In a smaller but more luxurious vessel (A Delta 88 no less) on one cold December Morning in Memphis, Tennessee in the year nineteen hundred and fifty-three four brothers crossed over the Arkansas/Tennessee state line, a journey some twenty years in the making to seek salvation and a recording contract at 506 Union Ave, under the employ of one Sam C. Phillips. That brisk Thursday morning James, Johnny, Hank and Walter cut two sides of hard gospel the likes of which had never been heard outside of Holiness tent revival. Fearing the Jones' brand of hard-edged sanctification too much for even the starched and prim Sunday morning revelers both songs remained un-issued for nearly forty years. The first of the songs cut that day was a breathtakingly raucous version of that old slave traders hymn, "Amazing Grace". How that single guitar and four very large voices ever fit into that tiny Memphis studio could only be known by the great one himself. Four voices exploding into cascading harmony that burns with the power of Gabriel's trumpet and the fear of another Monday morning on the farm.
The Jones' went to cut one more session at Sun studios and that one was released though by then the ravages of bad health and broken dreams had taken their toll on the once powerful voices but if nothing else their recording of "Amazing Grace" does answer the age old question if a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to see it does it make a sound? Yes, it does. It just may well take forty years to hear it.
4 - Gospel Travelers - "God's Chariot Pts.1 & 2" 45 (Duke) 1952
In which the wind of a tornado is played by God storming through the Southeastern United States giving notice that he will be back someday and those not redeemed there's is no place on Earth they can hide. The best in a long ling of gospel allegories in which God takes the form of some sort of natural disaster, sickness or other epidemic to punish those who've sinned against him. The whipping wind and storm sound effects backing up the blood-curdling, multi-part torrential harmony make it even more harrowing.
5 - Rev.Lonnie Farris - Rev Lonnie Farris & The Gospel Flames LP (Eden) 1962
Another traveling Louisiana preacher. Played lap-steel guitar with a switchblade for a slide. Perched somewhere between the Holy Spirit and the un-holy mugging.
6 - Blind Benny Paris & Wife - "I'm Gonna Live So God Can Use Me" Guitar Evangelists 1927-36 LP (Truth Records)
Sounds as if one foot is in the graveyard and the other is firmly in the pulpit. Eerie as all get out.
7 - Brother Claude Ely - "There Ain't No Grave Gonna Hold this Body Down" 45 (King)
Though the harder strains of Black gospel music have never been at a real loss for documentation their
white brethren have rarely been afforded the resources and recognition bestowed by the patronizing, liberal yankee fanboys that have sought to keep alive ever lost/dying culture their enlarged pockets can afford to.
The un-heralded influence of Brother Claude Ely and his Kentucky/West Virginian Pentecostal and Holiness movement is like finding one of the missing lynch pens of 20th century popular culture. One only has to listen to the heavily blues-based cathartic thump of any of Brother Claude Ely's early fifties recordings (all now compiled on a CD entitled, Satan Get Back on the British Ace label) and then cue up Elvis Presley's first single, "That's All Right/Blue Moon of Kentucky" from a little over a year later and see the kind of influence the old-time church shouts and baptismals had on the birth of rock'n'roll.
8 - Holiness Church of Hazard, KY - "Great Speckled Bird/Old Time Shout" Mountain Music of Kentucky (Smithsonian-Folkways)
As above another prime example of White Pentecostal/Holiness church music. Just listen to the spine-tingling version of the oldest Pentecost anthem, "The Great Speckled Bird" and close your eyes and picture yourself in some small clapboard church, badly in need of a painting. Maybe you're in Jolo, West Virginia or Whitesburg, Kentucky and there are three men banging old flat-top guitars and double that man playing tambourines and over there behind the pew a young boy maybe in his teens is summoning the Holy Ghost from a pawn shop organ and eyes closed you can feel that rushing, that unnamed power rushing up through creaking floor boards filling you with spirit. Your knees are weak and the plainness of the King's English has transformed into alien tongues. You look and the man to your immediate right is wearing two intertwined copperheads like a crown of thorns and the women behind the disused pulpit is mixing strychnine in an old Mason jar and you can see the jubilant looks on their faces and you feel flush with fear. All thoughts of the Holy Ghost, salvation, sin, redemption have left you and all you can hope to do is fleeuz, see you and I we know to well, we've become to smart for belief. Too jaded for faith. And at the end of the day that's what were lacking- absolute faith. With the rush of knowledge comes the loss of innocence and the knowing will burn your eyes and keep you up at night until you're blind or just give up.
9 - Rev Isaiah Owens- untitled CD-R (un-released)
Rev Owens could easily be Montgomery, Alabama's gospel version of Hasil Adkins. All detuned guitars and frenzied shouting giving away to dolorous moaning and the stomping of feet on a hardwood floor. Owens for years did a 15-minute radio program on AM radio in Alabama alongside Sister Ann Talbert, hawking caskets and pimping his day gig at one of Montgomery's finer tonsorial parlors. If you ever find yourself in that neck of the woods and should you happen to run into a impeccably groomed guitar playing street preacher - say on N. Lincoln or South Court Street chances are your in the presence of one Reverend Isaiah Owens and you'd do well to stop a minute and wipe your brow and soak in a little Sunday prayer before Saturday burns your ass once again.
10 - Joe Townsend - "Take My Burdens to the Lord" On The Road Again: Country-Blues Obscurities (Flyright)
Townsend was a mechanic in Independence, Mississippi- working on Plymouths and Chevrolets by day and doing the Lord's work by night when two Swedish musicologists made the first and only recordings of his hyper-kinetic, funky renditions of standard gospel classics. Two further Townsend cuts are found on the seventies blues and gospel compilation album, Southern Comfort Country.

five more to get you thru the gates.
11 - Rev Louis Overstreet & His Sons of Thunder Congregation - "I'm Working on a Building"
12 - Rev Presley Thomas' West Coast Jubilees - "He'll Be There"
13 - Mother McCollum - "Jesus is My Air-O-Plane"
14 - Henry Green - "Strange Things Happening" 78 (Chance) 1951
15 - Stanley Brothers - "Are You Washed in the Blood?" The Stanley Brothers of Virginia LP (County) 1973

#61 RAP TAPES: Enta Da Stage

Man, hard to figure out how this finished as low as #61 when this was a tape I fiended for, looking for at the record store like every Tuesday and Friday on shipments of new shit days for two weeks, and it always being sold out. No shit. I finally gave up on the urban store and went to the college-kid store, Plan 9, and back then they had all their rap tapes locked up in a case, whereas every other tape was out in the open. So they had one copy and I had to go ask the chumpy eastern European looking fucker at the counter to unlock it and get out the Black Moon tape and it sucked, and then I rode my crappy 10-speed bike back to my crappy apartment with my crappy girlfriend and listened to the tape I had been fiending for ever since seeing the video for "How Many Emcees". And the shit more than lived up to the hype. This is still such a bonafide classic that the Boot Camp Clique, which hasn't really done much of anything worth a shit for a looooong time, still gets props in backpacker-ish magazines like Elemental and Mass Appeal, long after they still deserve them. Such a great great record, and the perfect blossom of lyricism amidst the grime of that time. Nothing seems grimy anymore, and there's not enough blossoms. And what the fuck was up with the 5 Ft. Accelerator? That's got to be the greatest rap name ever.

Friday, September 1


There's really no need even to have that picture, as that cover took like four seconds to make, slapping a picture of the guitarist from Exodus and Dusty Rhodes squeezing blood out of Ric Flair's forehead together. The back page of this magazine has a Polaroid of me, Boomer, and Ivan and Vladimir Koloff where Ivan claims he will be my best always friends, but I haven't heard from him in years. Fucker.
Anyways, two little excerpts from this one. First from the Final Note on the back page: "Anything you read here that you think is racist or violent, it's just a joke, I'm not like that. Anything you read that's sexist or homophobic, it's for real, I'm like that." Ah, how I've grown. Now I don't even hate women or fags.
And secondly, I figured this zine was some time in 1996, but I've obviously jumped full-steam onto the millenial fever tip at this point: "December 31, 1999 falls on a Friday. At midnight, it becomes the year 2000, countdown to Armageddon. A New World will be rising around this time, and this particular New Year's Eve promises people in the street tossing cheap sticks of dynamite at police cruisers. Don't worry about a hangover, the place you're employed at will likely be reduced to ashes come Monday morning. The rich will be herded like refugee Africans onto encampments where they will be given overly-chlorinated water and thrift store bags of bread. That weekend will be the biggest party ever known... drug abuses of all types, lootings of Wal-Mart Supercenters and ABC stores, rapes of private school girls, burnings of immaculate urban churches, all in the name of change. It doesn't really matter what, we'll just burn it all down and start over. New Year's Day will become Independence Day. The wild will run wild and the fake will run home to die with their parents." Haha, that shit's funny now, but I do think I'd like to have that last line on a t-shirt.

#62 RAP TAPES: How A Blackman Feels

I guess some would say Schoolly had sort of fallen off by this time, and I don't necessarily think this tape sucks, but it's not up to his earlier standard. But fuck it, rappers get old and fat bellied and end up sucking eventually. It's music motivated by hunger, and if you're not hungry anymore, you can't pretend to be hungry. But you can pretend to be a gangsta, or drug dealer. Luckily, Schoolly doesn't do that.