Ax Mrs. Chicken Pants

Dear Mrs. Chicken Pants:
Should I stop playing badminton or live with the guilt?

-Stalwart

Mrs. Chicken Pants Response:
While Mrs. Chicken pants does not condone any sport which entails hitting little birdies with a racket, Mrs. Chicken Pants is an advocate of exercise and feels you should continue with your "sport" if the alternative is sloth. However, you should continue to feel guilty as hell!!!


Dear Mrs. Chicken Pants:
In Poultrygeist, is it safe to step into the light?

-Du4jay

Mrs. Chicken Pants Response:
Mrs. Chicken pants suggests you watch the damn movie to find out. No spoilers here folks:)


Dear Mrs. Chiken Pants:
Bob Dylan is my hero. How can I make my voice sound more like his when I sing?
Fondly,

-Lucius Barnswallow McFinster

Mrs. Chicken Pants Response:
Mrs. Chicken Pants would suggest that you take up smoking, again, and drink plenty of whiskey...Before you attempt singing!!! This should give you a basic platform to begin with.
P.S. Mrs. Chicken Pants hopes you are no longer "scared shitless"...you gave us all a scare.

Mrs. Chicken Pants would like to take this opportunity to introduce the 'bubers to her new beau. A hansome devil named Speedo Shades Waterfowl...



He has helped fend off unwanted advances from roosters and Mrs. Chicken Pants thinks he is the Cats Meow!


Please leave questions for Mrs. Chicken Pants in the Comments section of this post.


As always, Mrs. Chicken Pants is very busy eating bugs and fending off unwanted advances from single Roosters but she has assured me that she will be able to find the time to answer questions at least once a week.

Big E's Friday Sizzle

Happy Friday everone!!!! Have a great and safe Labor day Weekend!

Bob Dylan "Modern Times" (released 8/29/06) Album Review

The Old Croaker's still got it! If you loved "Love and Theft," his 2001 masterwork, you'll really like "Modern Times." It's kinda like "L. and T.'s" kid brother: easier-going and shorter, but coming from the same song-gene pool. Both feature a predominance of blues-based songs with a few old-timey parlor tunes thrown in for texture and richness. However, "Modern Times" does one thing different. Dylan has included three standard blues gems made famous by the elders of the tradition but with lyrics rewritten as only Zimmy Boy can. He never credits the originals (possibly because he believes in the "Folk Process" as Pete Seeger calls it whereby music is always out there and in the air and anything you do with all you hear is how all music is made anyway) but neither did Zeppelin (although I'm sure Jimmy Page was no Seeger fan).

Here are the tracks:

1. Thunder on the Mountain...A Great opener; rollicking blues; lyrics include lusting after Alicia Keys (him, too?) and avenging his father's death.
2. Spirit on the Water... a little snazzy, a little jazzy. Good, but needs to grow on me a little more.
3. Rollin' and Tumblin'... This is excellent, better than Cream's version and almost rivals Muddy Water's.
4. When the Deal Goes Down... A very pretty waltz that I liked right away. Then I saw a video he made of it that basically follows Scarlett Johanssen around all day as she smiles and pouts. I was hooked. Ironic because I seldom see any videos of anything. Dylan's website just sent it to me. He's a big fan of mine, I guess.
5. Someday Baby... Another great cover. I can't wait to see him do this one live. I've heard Van Morrison cover it with Them, even the Stones do it, but this is better.
6. Workingman's Blues #2... a beautiful love song that I could have seen my grandfather woo my grandmother with to get her in the sack back in the 1930's. And yes, she was hot back then.
7. Beyond the Horizon... Another parlor tune that sounds like a leftover from the last record.
8. Nettie Moore... The second best song on the album... it has a haunting and pounding percussion like something out of Plastic Ono Band's "Well Well Well" or "Remember,"
but lighter with a lament for lost love and disconnection.
9. The Levee's Gonna Break...third best; it takes Memphis Minnie and Kansas Joe's 1929 version and backs it up with a breezy rhythm guitar that reminds me of Canned Heat's "Goin' Up the Country;" then he just rocks it out Bobby-style. Page and Plant eat your heart out.
10. Ain't Talkin'... This is the gem, folks...I'll shut up now, just give it a listen....

Kevin Smith, Superman, and The Giant Spider

When you have a spare 20 minutes check out this excerpt from "An Evening With Kevin Smith." He tells the story of his experience re-writing a Superman script for Warner Brothers and producer Jon Peters in the mid-90's. For those who don't know, Kevin Smith is the director of Clerks, Chasing Amy, Dogma, et al, but even if you not a fan of his movies, I think you will enjoy this. He is a great story teller and very funny in person. It's worth your time.

AOL Search Logs As Window Into The Soul Of Man

Removed pending review and input from readers.

Big E's Lagniappe Sizzle

After a weekend of clouds and rain I thought a little Lagniappe Sizzle was in order for this gloomy Monday....Ahhhh...nothing like a little sunshine to brighten ones day:)

Sunday Morning Smelku

Icy Ales in the Fridge
Doc quotes "Must slow for a while"
Time up yet Smelly?


Fiber is our Friend?
Wheat beer chilling in cooler
Fiber can be fun!

Katrina Dinner

http://www.katrinadinner2006.com/

Big E's Friday Sizzle

Nothing like Fan Appreciation Day !!!! Happy Friday Everyone!!!

FRIDAY RANT

the last 3 letters of my most recent word verification were c-j-m... spooky

FRIDAY RANT

the last 3 letters of my most recent word verification were c-j-m... spooky

Ax Mrs. Chicken Pants

Dear Mrs. Chicken Pants: What's the difference between a ghost and a poultrygeist?
Scared shitless,

-Lucius Barnswallow McFinster

Mrs. Chicken Pants Response: Mrs. Chicken Pants suggests that you refer to the movie "Poultrygeist: Night of the Chicken Dead!" starring Jason Yachanin, Kate Graham and Allyson Sereboff. http://www.poultrygeistmovie.com/cast/

This scary and provocative movie is a prime example of the difference between ghosts and poultrygeists! Caution!!! This movie is not for any chicken shits!!!

Dear Mrs. Chicken Pants:

You tell me and my brother the egg came first, my uncle told us the Rooster cummed first and then the chicken cum and then the egg...

-Kelldog

Mrs. Chicken Pants Response:

Mrs. Chicken Pants feels that you, Kelldog, are a sick pup and should stick to getting excited about sex with your own species

Dear Mrs. Chicken Pants:

You chickens seem to keep yourself "regular". Do you have any advice for Smelly so that he keep his daily doodies?

-raw62

Mrs. Chicken Pants Response:

Mrs. Chicken Pants eats pebbles to keep regular. However, she feels this wouldn't be the way to go for humans. Her advise to Smelly, and all humans, is to eat more fried chicken after a night of drinking. This should add the necessary grease to lubricate the system so shit should flow freely!

Please leave questions for Mrs. Chicken Pants in the Comments section of this post.

As always, Mrs. Chicken Pants is very busy eating bugs and fending off unwanted advances from single Roosters but she has assured me that she will be able to find the time to answer questions at least once a week.

Presley Died

to the tune of "Hungry Heart"

Was a water boy in Miami back
In the seventies when Elvis was still intact
Like that halfback that we knew was still snorting
His doctor knew Elvis was sandwich hoarding

Griese told me Elvis Presley died
Bob Griese told me Elvis Presley died
Pour me some water then tell Pat, he sighed
Griese told me Elvis Presley died

I heard him on my phonograph
When I was young I then became a fan
I joined the Dolphins as a member of staff
My bubble burst by that quarterback man

Griese told me Elvis Presley died
Bob Griese told me Elvis Presley died
Pour me some water then tell Pat, he sighed
Griese told me Elvis Presley died

Everybody seems to name-drop now
All their stories start to sound the same
For generations they will never sound
Quite as quirky as my brush with fame

Griese told me Elvis Presley died
Bob Griese told me Elvis Presley died
Pour me some water then tell Pat, he sighed
Griese told me Elvis Presley died

More Euphemisms for "Dead", "Death" or "Died"

1. Beamed Down In A Red Shirt
2. Out-Leaned Ariel Sharon At The Tape
3. Hit For The Lipitor Side Effects Cycle
4. Groping For 70 Virgins With No Body And A Twisted Soul
5. Having A Highball At The 19th Hole With Gil Hodges
6. Entering Creak-Sound-Effects School
7. Driving An Empty U-Haul To An Eerie Cellar
8. Getting Poked By Perverted Embalmers
9. Applying For A New Dharma
10. Old Enough To Appear On Joe Franklin

Sunday Morning Haiku

For Smelly....

Binding, twisting, pain
Innerds are turned upside down
Is he still Smelly?

Get better Mike,
We have to rock Farm Aid soon and tear up Philly.

Bowel

For Smelly...

I saw the best guts of my generation destroyed by fiberlessness, cramped hysterical constipated,
dragging themselves through convenience store aisles at dawn looking for an angry fix of Fibercon,
middle-aged hipsters yearning for heavenly relief to the stopped up intestinal dynamo in the machinery of crap,
who poor in diet and exercise and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of finished basements submerged beneath suburban homes contemplating colonics,
who bared their ass to porcelin, and struggling, saw Mohammedan angels dancing on toilet paper rolls issuing gastronomical fatwahs,
who passed through universities in The Bronx among scholars of Star Trek,
who were expelled from bars and penned obscene odes to Landladies and McFinken,
who cowered unshaven in hotel rooms while Joey Ramone made long distance phone calls he would not pay for,
who got busted on Mummers Day while carrying ladies' underwear,
who ate frenchy ones in Clifton and drank buckets of Rocks in Flinstone muraled bar rooms,
with dreams of the muffiin circuit, and waking nightmares of moose lodge shows, alcohol and endlessly chuckling, black vested supermarket clerks,
but at last, Guinness did not count as whole grain food.
BOWEL!


Feel better Smelly.

Where is the FRIDAY RANT!!!!

Who Rocks More?

I pose the question to the loyal readers: Which Elvis was cooler? The leather clad, out of the army Elvis.... Or the bloated, sequin wearin', peanut butter and banana sandwich eatin', karate choppin' Elvis. You decide.

NEW EUPHEMISMS FOR "DEATH"

In honor of the 29th Anniversary of the death of Elvis Presley, I give you twenty new euphemisms for "Death" ...

1. Making Maggot Soup
2. Saying Hello To Grandma
3. Sleeping With The Tribbles
4. Feeding The Vultures
5. Joining The 100 Billion
6. Paying The God Tax
7. Giving My Stomach Enzymes Something New To Eat
8. Having Worm Sex
9. Taking My Last Poop
10. Finally Quitting Smoking
11. Going To Kick Adam And Eve's Asses
12. Joining The Super-Duper Slim-Fast Club
13. Seeing What The Hell Poe Was So Excited About
14. Hanging Out With James A. Garfield
15. Giving Up Breathing For Lent
16. Letting My Hair And Fingernails Grow Out
17. Going To Really Stink Up The Joint
18. Growing Wings (Or Horns)
19. Playing For The Pittsburgh Pirates
20. Having Lunch With Elvis

Don't Try

Charles Bukowski, the poet and novelist, and inspiration for the 1987 movie Barfly, died of leukemia on March 9th, 1994, at the age of 73.

His gravestone reads: "Don't Try".

According to Linda Lee Bukowski, her Husband's epitaph means "If you spend all your time trying, then all you're doing is trying. So don't try. Just do."

Don't try, just do.

Big E's Friday Sizzle

Enjoy the all american Sizzle!!!!

Ax Mrs. Chicken Pants

Mrs. Chicken Pants has not had time to answer many questions lately and lucky for here there were only two in her mail bag. This however has thrown Mrs. Chicken Pants into somewhat of a blue funk. I hope there will be a few more questions for her or she may actual up and retire.

Dear Mrs. Chicken Pants:
Dear Mrs. Chicken Pants, me and my brother want to ax you a question, what did come first, the chicken or the egg?
-Kelldog
Mrs. Chicken Pants Response:
Why the egg, of course:)



Dear Mrs. Chicken Pants:
Why is the incredible egg edible? And what happened to that goofy guy from F Troop in the commercial.
-Du4jay
Mrs. Chicken Pants response:
The Incredible Egg is edible because you can eat it. It's that simple. As for the goofy F Troop guy...Mrs. Chicken Pants assumes that you are speaking of Larry Storch... Mr. Larry Storch has just completed the film version of The Aristocrats... http://www.thearistocrats.com/





Please leave questions for Mrs. Chicken Pants in the Comments section of this post.

As always, Mrs. Chicken Pants is very busy eating bugs and finding off unwanted advances from single Roosters but she has assured me that she will be able to find the time to answer questions at least once a week.

Wake of the Flood

Here Comes Sunshine? Down here in the bowl, within the bowl we have wrestled the aligators.

Now that more and more houses are coming up repaired and once again fully operational, we have been going to dinner parties. Just walk past a few abondoned caves and arrive at a spruced up born again, ready to party it up.

Tonight we are going to a fish fry, right down the street, in New Orleans. It's not going to be on a Saturday night but awful darn close. Now that's what I call Sunshine.

Friday Rant

I think CJM is Andy Kaufman, alive and unwell!

My Last Time

Raw's comments on the JGB show reminded me of the last show I attended. So I thought I’d share it with the Hubbubers.

Although I agree with Raw about the JGB show (JGB at the Mann Music Center in Philly, circa 1985, is in my top 5 shows EVER!) my last Dead show was pretty interesting, to say the least.

It was in the middle of the corn fields of Indiana at a place, not unlike the Mann in Philly, called Deer Creek. This was a month or so before Jerry’s untimely death. The reader may recall that the summer of ’95 was a down year for the Horde, Lollapalooza etc. and the Dead tour seemed overrun with Phish Heads and hangers-on with nothing to do that summer but take mom's car and follow the Dead. There was an exceptionally strange vibe in the camp sites and parking lots before the first of what was to be 3 shows there. One chick, that was hanging with our group, liked to wear mini skirts with no panties so most of the men in our group were having trouble concentrating on anything but…well, you get the picture. One of them wound up marrying the chic, but I digress.

Once tickets were secured we were on are way to rock-n-roll with the boys in the band. Upon getting to the gates we noticed something different was going on. The security was scanning folks with metal detectors and heavily searching people. Hard to realize that before 9/11 this was very unusual for Americans to go through. Rumors held that there was a death threat on Jerry’s life from a disgruntled father who lost his little girl to the dreaded “Dead.” This was the reason for the added security. They even left the house light on for the entire show. I don’t remember much of what the band played that night except that Jerry was totally off his game. They played a “Playin” that they had to slow down to like one beat per 10 seconds trying to get jerry back into the song without any luck. Then it happened! Loads of people started rushing around when we noticed that the fence at the rear of the venue was torn down in sections and people were streaming in for free. Bobby went into “Victim or the Crime” at that point but that is about all I remember of the music. The rest was just a crazy scene. After the show, while waiting to get out of the grid locked parking lot, we were held up for at least a half an hour as police car after police car left the area after the “Riot.” That’s right, the authorities were calling this a riot, but really it was just a case of mass gate crashing.

Next day we found out that the rest of the shows were canceled. There was a fella selling medical grade at our camp site and he was selling at whole sale prices because he no longer had two more shows to sell it at. My lasting remembrance from that show is Du4 and I sitting by the pond, that the hippies washed themselves in, huffing on balloons and fantasizing about selling Fresh Steamed Lobsters on tour with Fatty Taddies and Drawn Butter. Best laid plans of mice and men I suppose…

Our next stop was Mammoth cave since we had some time to kill on our way home; but that is another story for another day. Oh…FYI we never made it to the cave.

Hitler was Cloned

Congratulations Kelldog on being the first contributor to The Hubbub XXX. See your post here.

The Hubbub XXX: Uncut and Uncensored

We at The Hubbub have a Libertarian bent. That's why it has been so distasteful to have to remove some posts recently that we had deemed inappropriate.

Some contributors reacted rather badly to this.

Here is my compromise, The Hubbub XXX: Uncut and Uncensored. Rather than delete posts deemed not appropriate for this site, they will be moved to this uncensored blog. Contributors will also be able to post directly, of course, and their posts will be completely uncensored.

Wanna go on a political rant? Go for it, Lee Harvey. Declare God is dead? Hallelujah. Shit on a Pizza. Can't wait to see it.

So all you nut jobs out there have at it. Give us your worst.

Happy Birthday Jerry!

It is the fat mans birthday, have some cheese in honor of him!
Long Live Jerry!

The Original of this Post was removed by a Dictator!

The Original:

Democracy is Temporary in Nature...

Thucydides, author of History of the Pelopennesian War, described the fall of the lazy, hedonistic Athenian democracy. About the time our original thirteen states adopted their new constitution, Alexander Tyler, a Scottish history professor at the University of Edinburgh, had this to say about the fall of the Athenian Republic some 2,000 years prior:

"A democracy is always temporary in nature; it simply cannot exist as a permanent form of government. A democracy will continue to exist up until the time that voters discover they can vote themselves generous gifts from the public treasury. From that moment on, the majority always votes for the candidates who promise the most benefits from the public treasury, with the result that every democracy will finally collapse due to loose fiscal policy, which is always followed by a dictatorship."

"The average age of the world's greatest civilizations from the beginning of history, has been about 200 years. During those 200 years, these nations always progressed through the following sequence:

1. From bondage to spiritual faith;
2. From spiritual faith to great courage;
3. From courage to liberty;
4. From liberty to abundance;
5. From abundance to complacency;
6. From complacency to apathy;
7. From apathy to dependence;
8. From dependence back into bondage."
   

Professor Joseph Olson of Hamline University School of Law, St. Paul, Minnesota, believes the United States is now somewhere between the "complacency & apathy" phase of Professor Tyler's definition of democracy, with some 40 percent of the nation's population already having reached the "governmental dependency" phase.

Apathy is the greatest danger to our freedom.

While you're pondering all that, here's the obligatory post-ending sizzle:

_____________________________________________________________

Date: Mon, 07 Aug 2006 23:05:54 -0400
Subject: Your Post
From: "Slag" poekicker@gmail.com
To: "N--- M---" m---1-----@y----.com

Your post about America's slide into apathy, just before our inevitable bondage at the hands of a dictatorship was borderline. Your follow-up comment re-visiting the results of the 2000 presidential election sent it over the edge. I removed it.

Rise up complacent Hubbub Contributors and readers! Fight The Hubbub Dictatorship! Stop the slide now! Slag is a megalomaniac with too much absolute power who thinks his two legs are better! And we all know where that leads.

Playing Drunk Scrabble

Hesus, I had a rough weekend. Or rather the half of it I can remember. On Saturday night my wife, Kristin, and I decided to take a walk on the wild side, sit on our front porch like a couple of senior citizens and play Scrabble. You know the game where you get a bunch of tiles with letters and then try to make words out of them connecting them on a game board and get points ... blah, blah, blah. But we decide to create our own version called "Drunk Scrabble." The rules are exactly the same except...duh.

We've decided that Scrabble can reveal a lot about your psychological profile. Like those dirty pictures in the psychiatrist's office, the words you create tell a lot about your personality. (What do you mean they're not dirty pictures?)

Anyway, just wait until you've finished the game and look at the words on the board. If they look like something from a old George Carlin routine, then baby you've issues. No this is really true. Next time you want to find out about somebody, give them the letters "C" "U" "N" "T" "A" "S" "S". If they don't come up with the word "cantus" which of course we all know is a style of church music, then well ... whatever.

It doesn't really matter what words I make, because in the end my wife always wins by tremendous margins. Okay, I have to say that I'm the %$#@!ing genius here damn it, but my wife is vicious when it comes to this game. The best word I could think of for the night was "deviant" which was one letter from using all my tiles. (You get an extra fifty points for that.) That wouldn't have been a game winner, but it sure says something about my personality.

It always seems like I'm stuck with four "I"s and three "U"s. Not too many words you can make out of that kind of crap. I..I..I...(say it aloud to get the joke damn it!) I tried that one, but it was not a word. I always end up with words like "huh" and "duh." Then I'd try to make it into "duhd" but Kristin would always call foul "NOT A WORD" in which case I lose my turn.

But last night was different. You see under the demon alcohol's influence, as the inebriation became more pronounced, my abilities became almost super human. By the second game even drawing the tiles from the pouch seemed like an act of ESP. I took out what appeared to be the letters, "H" "M" "Blank" "I" "Blank" "C" "N". Using my Brainiac brain, building upon her letter "a", I was able to create the word, "champion" which was my first word of the game. Blank tiles can be used as any letter. I was no doubt going to win this damn game once and for all! My house would no longer be stained with endless defeat. Of course half-way through the game, Kristin noticed that there seemed to be an extra "blank" tile. So she turned over one of the tiles I had incorrectly placed in upside-down. It was a "G". God, I'm an idiot when I get drunk.


Just a note: Four large glasses of vodka & soda, lead to a night of prayer at the porcelain pagoda.

Well, it may not be funny, but here enjoy my video clip from Cabo San Lucus. It should spice up this place a little:

WAKE UP YOU MORONS!!

Context Here.

Little Boy...

On the morning of August 6, 1945 the United States Army Air Forces dropped the nuclear weapon "Little Boy" on the city of Hiroshima, followed three days later by the detonation of the "Fat Man" bomb over Nagasaki, Japan.

It's a Dr. Strangelove World after all

Comments:

1. The best line in that movie: "Gentlemen, you can't fight in here. This is the War Room!"
2. Toured Australia for two weeks with three college friends in 1993 (none are Contributors here...yet). We went on this organized two day camping outing with a large group in what's called The Center, the barren middle part of the land Down Under. Main attraction: Ayers Rock (aka Uluru). We camped out the night before under the stars and climbed The Rock early the next morning. There were two, rather sweet, Japanese girls that were part of this group. They spoke very broken English, were quick to smile and giggled a lot. We soon forgot their names so, in private, we referred to them as Hiroshima and Nagasaki. While climbing along the chain rope positioned on the 60 degree incline of Uluru that morning we passed the two, who had started up earlier. I turned back to them and exclaimed "Just like Mount Fuji!" They laughed. I wish we had taken a picture of them.
   
3. To win a war you must annihilate your enemy.

Get them hammers out of my head.

No more birthdays. That beautiful California sun? Flooded my room this afternoon and hit my eyes like stinging lather. Tongue's still furred. Throat: raspy dry. Bad tequila hangover from Hell. I gotta fill this screaming white monitor with some words to shade my damn eyes. At least the Bub's that dark blue. Took four Excedrin and started reading some of the new stuff. That Star Trek "Crew" script. It's the weekend man and I'm still half bent. Reading that thing was like work. I'll finish it manana. Promise. The Beatles? Aren't they dead? No really, aren't they? Robin Williams. Yeah, he's annoying. Like a chirping cricket you can't find in the house at 3AM. But he was buyin' last night. Re-ceeding hairline. Yeah, yeah. I'll see it when I look in the mirror and be sure to hum that Diamond tune. But I ain't goin' back in that bathroom 'til the maid cleans up the floor. Knew I shoulda put that wastebasket next to the bed. Neighbors. We had the Hensons down the lane from us in Hot Springs. They didn't have a dog named Mike or nuthin' but they did have a daughter, Phoebe Gray, four years my junior, who sure looked sweet in denim shorts. Her Daddy walked me off the yard with a shotgun at my back. No 2^nd part to that story. My Aunt Jeannie Lou. I ain't heard from her since she left Uncle Earl 30 years ago. Like she'd even have five dollars to her name. Hold on. That was room service with the bloody marys. Time to end this anyway, every keystroke's like a damn firecracker. As for the site, I just wanted to say that it needs a little more sizzle. Know what I'm talkin' about? A little more of THIS!

-Posted by Billy Bob Thornton, my former alter ego.

Friday Rant

CJM, you're slipping!

F*** The Beatles: What New Music Are You Listening To?

The new releases that are wearing a hole in my iPod are The Flaming Lips "AT WAR WITH THE MYSTICS" (Review) and My Morning Jacket "Z", an album that I can only describe as groovy, in the best sense.

What new music are you listening to?

The Hubbub, vol. 3: The Trilogy Is Complete!

The Original Hubbub volume 3 (a.k.a. The Jim Dagistino issue) is now up, and located in the Links sidebar section.

Highlights include: the most popular feature ever (recently reprised here),
"Excerpts From The Jounals Of..."; winner of the Mario vs. The Nose Guy contest from the previous issue; another installment of "Axe Greggy"; a new crsossword puzzle; and lots of stuff about Jim Dagistino.

May I suggest keeping a copy by the crapper?

Stewie Griffin addresses harvard gards

All Hail Stewie. Harvard students get useful advice for their graduation.

The Fab Faux

When was it that Rock 'n Roll died? If I had to guess, I would say it was somewhere around late September 1983. That was when Culture Club's KARMA CHAMELEON began it's 20 week run on the U.S. charts, including 6 weeks at number 1. We were only four years removed from THE WALL, LONDON CALLING and RUST NEVER SLEEEPS, but you knew it was over. And even if it wasn't completely dead, it was really sick, and it had that old person smell. And surely, sometime not long after that, it dropped into a coma, briefly popped its eyes open when NEVERMIND was released, then completely flatlined.

So Rock is dead (long live Rock), at least as the dominant musical art form in our culture. What does that mean for the music? Will it slowly fade into oblivion? Will it remain, but only as dusty old discs archived away in a basement in the Smithsonian? My thought was the latter. Unlike previous eras in modern music, Rock was unique in that it inextricably linked the writer, the performer and the recording, at least in the classic rock era. How can you separate "A Day In A Life" from John Lennon and The Beatles' recording of it. It is the definitive incarnation of that song. Anything else is imitation. The song remains, but it remains locked in a time capsule on that disc.

Or so I thought.

The Fab Faux are a New York-based Beatles "tribute" band, but that term doesn't do them justice. This isn't Beatlemania. Hell, there aren't even four of them. This is five professional musicians, most notably Will Lee from The Late Show with David Letterman and Jimmy Vivino from Late Night with Conan O'Brien, performing note-for-note, perfect, live reproductions of the most complex Beatles recordings. They rip The Beatles from their time capsule and the give the music energy, urgency and a beating pulse they way only a live performance can. The Fab Faux play The Beatles the way the New York Philharmonic plays Beethoven.

I saw the band perform this past Saturday at the magnificent Beaux Arts-style State Theatre for the Performing Arts in Easton, Pennsylvania. We attended the 8 PM show dubbed "Beyond 1: Fab Faux Fan Favorites" (they had performed The Beatles "1" album in its entirety earlier). Appropriately, at least for me, the evening was dominated by Lennon and Harrison songs. Yes, Harrison songs. These guys are George-heads big-time, covering a joyous "Here Comes The Sun", a rollicking "Old Brown Shoe", the always fun "Savoy Truffle" and a beautiful "While My Guitar Gently Weeps".

But if these guys love George, they bleed Lennon. "Rain", "Nowhere Man", and "Hey Bulldog" all showed off the power of these songs in a live setting, and the incredible vocal skills of the group (they take turns singing lead).

The highlight, though with one exception, were the the Sgt. Pepper/Mystery Tour era Lennon songs "I Am The Walrus" and "A Day In A Life", complete with live strings, horns and sound effects. Sonic masterpieces, heard as even The Beatles never heard them, full compositions played note-for-note, as single, end-to-end performances.

The one exception? A searing, bluesy "Oh, Darling" that had singer/keyboardist (and apparent Fab Faux heart-throb) Jack Petruzzelli leaping up from behind his piano and dropping to his knees Little Richard-style to belt out the scorching McCartney ABBEY ROAD classic. They tore the place to the ground with that one, and left more than one post-menopausal fan with a wet spot on her seat.

With The Fab Faux out there keeping The Beatles alive, is Rock dead? Nah, its not dead, but it just may need a set of Depends.















Catch The Fab Faux around the New York area next at Queens College - Colden Center for the Performing Arts, October 22.

RE-CEEDING HAIRLINE! (A Song Parody for the Over-40 Crowd, well, maybe some of 'em)

So, it was 100 degrees today and I was caught for a brief yet painful few moments outside without a hat on.
This song came to mind... (to the tune of Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline")...


Where it began
I can't begin to know it
But then I knew it was growing wrong...
Was gettin' thin
Then it became a bummer
I need a comb-over so long...

Hair...
Losing Hair...
Falling Out...
Onto me, onto you...

RE-CEEEDING HAIRLINE!
My looks never were so good!
I've been inclined!
To start wearing a hood..

(Now when I shower I...)

Look at the drain
It doesn't seem so empty
I fill it up when I shampoo...
If I use a brush
Hair runs off my shoulder
How can I brush, I'm losing you...

Hair...
Losing hair...
Falling out...
Onto me, onto you...

RE-CEEEDING HAIRLINE!
Please don't say my hair looks good!
(So Good, So Good, So Good!)
I've been inclined !
To start wearing a hood...

(etc.)

MY CREW!

SCENE I (BRIDGE)

LULU
Captain, there's something headed directly at us.

KIRK
At what speed?

LULU
Warp ten, sir.

KIRK
Red alert!
(Red alert goes off)
Lock on phasers, Mr. LULU. Lieutenant Manure, try to establish communication. And get a breast reduction operation, will you? I can't concentrate on space, my life's work. It IS the final frontier, you know. Spock, get a reading on it.

SPOCK
Fascinating.

KIRK
What is it, Spock?

SPOCK
Fascinating... truly fascinating.

KIRK
If you've got something, Spock, we'd all like to know!

McCOY
Yeah, Spock! Spit it out, you green-blooded half-human!

SPOCK
Impatience... most illogical. I appear to be getting a reading on an animated life form.

McCOY
Are you out of your pointy-eared head!?

KIRK
Elaborate, Spock.

SPOCK
It is approximately eight thousand four hundred and twenty years old.

KIRK
The Stone Age. I learned about it during my days at the academy... Manure, establish visual communication.

MANURE
Visual communication established, Captain.
(Shot of Fred Flintstone on screen)
(Shots of faces on bridge)
(Shot of Spock with one raised eyebrow)

SCOTTY
(entering bridge)
Captain, I dun't think a red alert is a good time to be watching cartoons.

KIRK
It's not a cartoon.

SCOTTY
You mean it's Fred Flintstone himself? Aye, I remember watching him when I was wee bit high. Don't fall for it, Capt'n. I'll bet it's those bloodthirsty Klingons playing another trick on us. Aye, I'll bet a bottle of five hundred twelve year old scotch it's the Klingons.

SPOCK
Flintstones... a highly successful prime time animated series on earth during the 1960's. In fact, the only earth cartoon ever shown in syndication on Vulcan.

KIRK
Mr. Flintstone... assuming you are in fact Mr. Flintstone--

FRED
Yabba dabba doo

KIRK
Gibberish... Spock?

SPOCK
Negative, Captain. An exclamation signifying jubilation.

KIRK
Mr. Flintstone, we're going to transport you to our ship.

FRED
Yabba dabba doo... ah, c'mon guys, the joke's over. Alright, Rockhead, Shale, where's Rubble?

KIRK
Scotty, you have the com. Spock, come with me. You too, Bones. Mr. Flintstone's hand appears to be connected to his face. You may have to operate.

McCOY
Damnit, Jim! I'm a doctor, not a cartoonist!

KIRK
It's a direct order. Sometimes I wonder whether you're the same hard working doctor that boarded my ship years ago.

McCOY
I assure you Jim, I am the real McCoy.

SPOCK
A pun... intentional, I presume.

McCOY
You're a hopeless case, you sexless logician!

SPOCK
Captain, I believe Dr. McCoy to be an emotionally unstable member of your crew.

KIRK
My crew!!! What about my crew?

McCOY
Perhaps I'm not even needed on the ship.

KIRK
My ship!!! What about my ship?

SPOCK
Captain, gain control of yourself.

KIRK
Spock, what's happening to me?

SPOCK
Captain, I request permission to assume command. You do not seem to be mentally fit to command the Enterprise. I believe Dr. McCoy will back me up on this issue.

McCOY
I'm afraid he's right, Jim. For once I'll have to agree with Spock. You've been having these ship-fits regularly. I'm afraid you'll have to report to sick bay for a day or two of rest. Report to Nurse Chapel and I'll be there in a minute. Spock'll run the ship.

KIRK
My ship!!! No, I can't. I must command the ship. My crew is depending on me.

McCOY
Jim, the crew can--

KIRK
MY CREW!!!!!
(SPOCK gives KIRK the nerve pinch. KIRK goes down.)

McCOY
Thanks, Spock. You did a kind-hearted thing, helping me out like that.

SPOCK
I did what I thought to be logical.

McCOY
Oh, blast your logic, Spock!...Wouldn't it also be logical to shut me up when I'm annoying you?

SPOCK
Vulcans are incapable of getting annoyed.

McCOY
You're a thickheaded half-breed!

SPOCK
Don't tempt me, doctor.

McCoy
POINTY EARS!! POINTY EARS!!
(SPOCK gives McCOY the nerve pinch. McCOY lands on top of KIRK)

SPOCK
(Looking down at BONES)
You silly, illogical human.


SCENE II (TRANSPORTER ROOM)

(SPOCK enters. He tries transporter... no go. He presses phony communicator button)

SCOTTY
Scott here.

SPOCK
Mr. Scott, the transporter is malfunctioning.

SCOTTY
I checked it myself just this afternoon... Mr. Spock, it's not the transporter that's giving us trouble. It's Mr. Flintstone himself. I beamed him aboard but now he's vanished. A little green man who sounded just like Harvey Kormann snapped his fingers and the both of them disappeared.

SPOCK
Gazoo.

SCOTTY
Gezunheit, Mr. Spock... But that's not all. He called me a dum dum. Now, Mr. Spock, I'm a patient man but nobody calls Montgomery Scott a dum dum and gets away with it.

SPOCK
Humans...Spock out.


SCENE III (BRIDGE)

SPOCK
(enters)
Quite a rapid recovery, Captain.

KIRK
I passed the examination.

McCOY
Physically, he's 100%. But I think he's got a screw loose.

KIRK
Crew? What about my crew!?

SCOTTY
Captain, If ya' dun't mind me sayin' so, I think you oughta take a few days rest. It'll be the best thing for us all. It's just my opinion but, goshdarnit Captain, you've been loonier than a drunk Mel Gibson lately.

KIRK
Be quiet, Scotty. Go down to engineering. Everything is always breaking down over there. Go check on it.

SCOTTY
I take that personally, Captain Kirk. Mr. Spock, do us all a favor and take command of the ship. I'm goin' t' the pub for a strong one.
(exits)

SPOCK
Acknowledged, Mr. Scott...Captain... Jim... According to Starship Federation Procedure I must now force you to relinquish command. As of now, I am in charge.

KIRK
NO. You can't pull that Castro's brother bit on me. This is my ship. I'm responsible for the crew. It's my crew. Nobody takes my crew. It's my ship, my crew; you can't have it.

SPOCK
Very well. Keep it, you selfish human.

KIRK
Lulu, where's Jerkhov?

LULU
He's hungover, sir. He drank another liter of vodka. He's been drinking quite heavily ever since the night he and I spent alone together on Fujjpaq II.
(laughs diabolically)

MANURE
Captain, I had communication with someone down on Sunev III but lost it almost immediately.

KIRK
Sunev III. Spock, you've been there. Who might be contacting us?

SPOCK
According to this data, it looks like it is that guy with the towel on his head.

KIRK
More specific, Spock.

SPOCK
I cannot get any more specific.

KIRK
We'll have to beam down to the planet's surface.
(KIRK and SPOCK exit bridge.)


SCENE IV (SUNEV III)

KIRK
You were right, Spock. He does have a towel on his head. But what is his name?
(to guy with towel on his head)
What is your position on Sunev III? And by what name are you called?

GUY WITH TOWEL ON HEAD
I am known only as That Guy With The Towel On His Head.

KIRK
Spock, you're the best first officer in the fleet.

SPOCK
I know, sir.

KIRK
Modest too.

SPOCK
I detect a tone of sarcasm. No, captain, I am not immodest. As a Vulcan I am simply incapable of false modesty.

KIRK
Okay towel guy, what is it that you want from us?

THAT GUY WITH THE TOWEL ON HIS HEAD
Sunscreen... and towels.

SPOCK
The average temperature on Sunev III is 50.347 degrees Celcius.

THAT GUY WITH THE TOWEL ON HIS HEAD
And that little green guy for entertainment... and his three-toed loudmouth friend with the five o'clock shadow.

KIRK
We don't know their whereabouts. We believe the recent sightings were just illusions. What is it that you really want from us?

THAT GUY WITH THE TOWEL ON HIS HEAD
Beam down some of those pretty crew members of yours with the ridiculously short skirts. I'm prepared to offer you enough quadrotriticale to feed the Milky Way for a millenium.

KIRK
Perhaps we can spare----NO! I will not have you manipulate my crew! I won't allow some perverted towel guy to treat the members of my crew as objects of sensual delight and sexual desire. Only I can do that. It's MY crew!!

TOWEL DUDE
That's too bad, Kirk. Because if you don't send them down within one earth hour you and your science officer are dead meat.

KIRK
Better Spock and myself than my crew. Kill us now. Spare my crew.

T.G.W.T.T.O.H.H.
No, your own life means too little to you. There must be some other way to convince you.

SPOCK
(whispering to KIRK)
He fell for your bluff.

KIRK
It's no bluff, Spock.

SPOCK
You're full of tribble excrement and you know it.

KIRK
(His communicator sounds.)
Kirk here.

SCOTTY
Captain, we've been attacked by a vessel from Sunev III.

KIRK
What's the damage?

SCOTTY
Extensive damage to the bowling alley, sir.

KIRK
Damn. The Federation Finals... We'll have to forfeit home lanes advantage... Scotty, they'll have to pay for this. Launch photon torpedoes immediately. Then beam us up.

SCOTTY
I'm afraid I won't be able to do that, Captain. The transporter is malfunctioning.

KIRK
How long will it take to repair?

SCOTTY
A couple hours, maybe more.

KIRK
That's too long. You've gotta do better, Scotty.

SCOTTY
Captain, we're doing everything we can.

KIRK
Beam us up in thirty minutes.

SCOTTY
I can't change the laws of physics.

KIRK
Yes you can. Change them. That's an order. Kirk out.

SPOCK
Captain, what about that guy?

KIRK
Give him a nerve pinch, Spock.

SPOCK
(Walking towards TOWEL GUY)
That Guy With The Towel On His Head, perhaps we can meet your demands --
(Gives him the nerve pinch.)


SCENE V (Meanwhile back on the bridge)

SCOTTY
Fire photon torpedoes, Mr. Jerkhov.

JERKHOV
(With ice pack applied to his head)
Yes, sir.
(Photon torpedoes are fired. It's a direct hit.)
We got 'em, sir! Ow, my head.

SCOTTY
Aye. Blown to bits. Take the com, Mr. Lulu. I'm going down to the transporter room.

LULU
The transporter room! What is it?

SCOTTY
It's the section of the ship where we beam crew members and others to and from planets. But that's not important now.

LULU
What are you going to do there?

SCOTTY
I'm goin' to change the laws of physics.


SCENE VI (SCOTTY and LT. O'TOOLE are travelling to the transporter room.)

O'TOOLE
Isn't that Yeoman Rand's quarters, Mr. Scott?

SCOTTY
(Peeking through keyhole)
Aye, it's Janice alright.

O'TOOLE
(Nudges SCOTTY away and peeks)
She's bending over.

SCOTTY
(Nudges O'Toole away and peeks.)
Aye, and she's got the finest pooper in the fleet.

O'TOOLE
Mr. Scott, shouldn't we rush to go fix the transporter?

SCOTTY
No need to . It's not broken. Half the times when I tell Kirk it's broken I'm just toying with him.

O'TOOLE
Ha. Let's go grab a beer then.

SCOTTY
I'm right with ya' lad.


EPILOGUE (BRIDGE)

(KIRK and SPOCK enter)
KIRK
I knew he'd come through. I knew Scotty could change the laws of physics.

SPOCK
Captain, I do not believe --

KIRK
Yes he did. Scotty said it would take hours and yet he repaired the transporter in a matter of minutes. He knows this ship better than anyone, myself included. And it's my ship. My crew.

McCOY
Jim, I notice you have a very short haircut. Shorter than usual.

KIRK
MY CREW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Original Hubbub, vol. 2

I finally got around to imaging and posting the volume 2 of the original, hard-copy, Hubbub.

As most of our readers know, The Hubbub began life as a hard-copy 'zine, published by myself, Smelly and KO Stalwart from our secret, underground lair, in the Texas Weiner capital of America - Clifton, NJ (most famous resident, Rupert Pupkin), back in the early 90's.

The original 'zine was short-lived, mostly becasue it was a such a pain in the ass to put together (kids today have no idea how good they have it with these blogs), but featured some really great material from many of the current contributors to the current incarnation of the 'bub.

Highlights from volume 2 include: Mucha Ado About Beer; 2 cartoons (Battle of the Cartoon Centerfolds and Billy DuWott); Aks Greggy; several great poems and short stories, some ads for Sticky Finger Brown Ale; and a crossword puzzle by our own Smelly!

Do yourself a favor and check out what your younger, skinnier, hairier 'bub contributors were up to a dozen or so years ago.


The Hubbub, volume 2