X-Cops
at Mama Kin
by Smak
In case you haven’t noticed, cops are the most hated people on Earth. Teenage rebels hate them as a symbol of the authority figures they’ve been programmed to rebel against. Rich yuppies, being mostly ex-hippies, hate them as guard dogs of the dehumanizing Imperialist Empire they’re now a part of. Ghetto boys hate them as the cock of Mighty Whitey who’s fucked them up the ass for four hundred years. Even your average jerkoff hates them for giving them traffic tickets. The only people who like cops are, well, cops. To be honest, you can throw me in with the pack. In my misspent youth as a Midwestern suburban reject, it seemed to me that cops were bored thugs, overgrown bullies too stupid to break out of their home towns. But then again, so are a lot of hardcore fans. And I’ve always found something humorous about a person who augments their God-given penis with one that cums hot lead.
With all the animosity running around, someone was bound to harness it for comedic exploitation. Hence the X-Cops were born. Consisting of members of GWAR, they claim to be policemen booted off the force who formed a band to get the youngsters to straighten up and fly right. All of the power-junkie stereotypes are there in bountiful abundance: A Boss Hog lookalike in sheriff’s uniform; a bondage-masked S/M gimp; and a Satanic, homosexual Nazi cop. All members dress as the bullies in blue. With songs like “Paddy Wagon Rape” and “You Fucked Up,” they’re sure to be a hit at your next wedding or Bar Mitzvah. Their stage show is dominated by the beating of a black man Rodney King-style, tugging at heartstrings everywhere.
It was the aforementioned ode to police-van fun that prompted the swarms of overly-sensitive, humorless PC-types to leave in droves. Of those who remained, at least half were tough-guy gore-hounds who seemed upset that their teeshirts remained unsullied. Folks, they’re not GWAR. They seem like they don’t wanna be. So relax a little, okay? Although the show was enlightening, I’ll be the first to admit it wasn’t perfect. Seeing as this was the first night of the tour, there were some misfires in staging and a lack of coordination. But the band was talkative and easy-going, lending a more personal feel to the whole thing. Fine by me. Unfortunately, they also had a short set.
Because they were over by 11:30, the kindhearted management of Mama Kin sent everyone over to Bill’s Bar for free. There, the rock ‘n’ roll antics and calls to get stoned and fuck from the band sat much better with the general audience. Sorry, folks, but I had to leave. Enjoy.
