UNREMITTING FAILURE

The Pocket Jerry

Bob and Shrooms were arguing over which was the better performance of "Deal"--the one recorded in Philly on July 16, 1977 or the version recorded at the Meadowlands on August 23, 1983.  Bob was totally convinced the Philly version was the better of the two, while Shrooms was equally adamant that the Meadowlands version was superior in every way.  

Shrooms:  "If only Jerry were here to settle our argument."

(Announcer appears from the shadows)

Announcer: How many times has this scene played out in your house or dorm room?  Well never again, thanks to  Ronco's new Pocket Jerry.  It will settle all your Dead-related disputes on the spot!

Yesstories

We were walking down the street with Jon Anderson of Yes when we saw an old lady get hit by a bus.  We were like, "God, how horrible!"  but Jon was like, "I'm going to write a four-CD song cycle, similar in sound if not tone to Tales of Topographic Oceans, about this!"

That's how we knew were in the presence of an artist.

To listen to Yes is to partake of the sublime, and to be dissolved into the awful in the true sense of the word.  We cannot listen to "I've Seen All Good People" without falling to our knees, polestruck by the genius of it, by the wimpy guitar and the way Anderson sings "Take a straight and stronger course to the corner of your life," making us wonder which corner? Or by the way he sings, "Don't surround yourself with yourself," like you're not just Custer, you're the Native Americans too!

Another quick story about Jon Anderson.  We once saw him heal a sick man.  The man was at death's front door and ringing the bell when Jon conducted his laying on of hands and said, "Rise, rise friend and be well!" 

And the man did, and he looked at Jon in wonderment, and he said, "Sir, Yes has another fan!"

Last Day of July

We hardly did any July stuff this July.  We didn't attend a barbecue.  We didn't swim.  We didn't set off any firecrackers.  We didn't redden in the sun like a cherry tomato.  Not once did we press a cool beer bottle to our forehead and say "Sure is a hot one!"  Nor did we play a pickup game of softball or a spirited game of intramural volleyball.  We croqueted not.  We didn't walk a single beach.  We didn't even go to any big blockbuster movies.  We didn't wave the red, the white, and the blue while watching a patriotic parade from our front stoop.  We don't even have a front stoop. Our life is horrible and if the Beach Boys were right about an endless summer, we're doomed.

Homage: Bob Welch

What can we say about the great Bob Welch, who turns 63 today?  He was the awfullest-looking member of Fleetwood Mac, ever.  With his skull face and wispy long hair, Welch looks like the missing link between Tom Petty and Weird Al Yankowitz.  Bob (that's him beneath the first "O" in the Hollywood sign) is best remembered for his super solo hits "Ebony Eyes" and "Sentimental Lady."  Both are tremendous AOR masterpieces that together prop up a world that would otherwise collapse into chaos, murder and despair.  Unfortunately, no amount of lyrical brilliance could undo the damage done by that scoop-necked t-shirt he's wearing.  No wonder they through him out of the Mac--or maybe he quit, we don't know--before they recorded Rumours, became multibazillionaires, and did enough cocaine to deviate the septum of God. 

Take off the sunglasses, Bob--you look like a bug

We Can Get a Shiny New Blog with Better Gas Efficiency

Cash monkey for old clunkers.  Wish they had something like it for blogs.

Griffito we intend to put up all over town

Rick Allen's Arm Lives!

Manna

It's the official food of Heaven.  Heck, it's the only food in Heaven.  Manna has a monopoly and it must drive the competition nuts.  You just know Pizza Hut would love to break into that market.

It must get old though.  Eating manna day in and day out.  It would have to get old.  "Manna again? That makes three million years in a row! What I'd do for a Ring Ding!"

Who knows though.  Maybe God's figured a way to throw some variety in there.  Maybe you get your own personal pan manna, with your choice of toppings. Like pepperoni. Or redemption.

Let's Throw the Burgermeister Out the Window!

Today marks the 590th anniversary of the First Defenestration of Prague.  The first?  Just how many were there?*  It would appear they have defenestrations the way we have Super Bowls.

  

*Two, according to some.  Others say three, or even four.  We say if you're going to Prague, stay away from high windows.

There's No Can't in Kandinsky

There are two kinds of artists.  The first kind "paint what they see."  The second kind drink too much coffee.  Wassily "Wassup" Kandinsky falls into the second category.  His paintings have so many points in them that our mom wouldn't allow them in the house.  She was afraid we'd run with one and lose an eye.  And her fears were hardly groundless, as Kandinsky himself proved in 1927, when he stabbed a man to death with his "On White II" (see below). 

The art critic Michael Henry described the "Kandinskian equation" as  "Interior = interiority = invisible = life = pathos = abstract."  He was almost right.  It should read  "Inferior = inferiority = failure = life = pathos = futility."

                                                                Lethal Abstraction

This Is Your Tooth on Drugs

                   "Dude, I'm so high I can't feel my enamel"