Issue 28:

To Eschew Is A Virtue

Look how many paragraphs I’ve written thus far without referencing how alone and miserable I feel. Sniff. Perhaps it’s that certain recent events have put my pathetic pain into a bit of perspective, or perhaps it’s that I’ve discovered the crisp, refreshing stupor of numerous gin and tonics.
Scott Hefflon, Prelude to a Lick

The big question: Would the little man with the monosyllabic moniker consolidate the honky-hop-folk-pop gains he made on ’94’s Mellow Gold, or would he choke and twitter off into self-possessed Alternavegas gas oblivion, bound for the post-indie supperclubs and one-hit-wunderkind ’90s retro-comps of the future? Well, take the word and pass it on from DGC to shining sea –Odelay is A-OK and it proves that Beck is here to stay. (Never said I could rap.)
Nik “Scratch” Rainey, Beck

You’re Here, You’re Queer, Get Over It.
Steve Tremain, Extra Fancy

The Hunger sees their music as a math equation: elements of one popular music style plus elements of another popular music style equals money, fame, adulation, and something to show for that music school education… The worst part is, this equation probably works in the end, making it inevitable that this band is gonna be huge, massive, kings, gods (for a few weeks, anyway). So, when all the accountants start bands, who’s gonna do my taxes?
Jon Sarre, the Hunger

Not as enjoyable as a good blow job, but even at under 2 minutes each, the 21 songs (on Short Songs for Short Attention Spans) last longer and don’t bitch at you for smoking while it’s going on.
Scott Hefflon, Nobodys

Did you catch Pauly Shore in 1988’s Phantom of the Mall? Pauly basically acts like a moron and even moons the camera. This was the historical moment when the term “butt-ugly” was born.
John Bikowski, Coroner’s Corner: Sucky Memories

By the age of seven he thought he had smashed them all. He had clapped a conch shell over his twin sister’s head. He had busted oboes over his knee. He had stolen a harp and thrown it off the roof of Symphony Hall. He had split violas, decorated cellos with thumbtacks, and stuck $250 flutes in the asses of cows. His uncle laughed at him and said, “No, idiot. A guitar. If you want to rock, you have to smash more guitars.”
Lars Paul Linden, Norwegian Surgeons

I was the kingpin of the playground candy circuit which ran from my 6th grade year to the summer of junior high… Most of the kids were just hungry, naïve gullibles with a sweet tooth not even a Beverly Hills dentist could cure. Then there were the junkies. …They showed up on the playground strung out from a night of licking their parents’ coffee cups for hints of sugar… anything they could get their tongues on.
Mark Phinney, Candy Man

Adulation filled the room as adulation will if you don’t leave the seal on the jar it’s contained in, and leave it within reach of the cat. (Never mind, move on to the next sentence.) …And yet a creeping sense of unease descended to chill my spine. No, wait, that’s the left hand of the reporter from Roman Fingers. Still, I was beginning to feel a sense of disillusionment I hadn’t experienced since I found out that all of Henry Rollins’ tattoos are press-ons. Didn’t Hitler start this way, telling the dispossessed masses exactly what they wanted to hear and appealing to the worst, darkest places in their soul? Or am I thinking of Merv Griffin?
William Ham, The Culture Bunker: Beer and Loafing on the Campaign Trail

Experience The Nixon Difference:
1) Clinton: Accused of wrongdoing before he was president.
Nixon: Accused of wrongdoing while he was president.
2) Nixon: Never ended our country’s involvement in the Viet Nam war, like he said he would.
Clinton: Never began his personal involvement in the Viet Nam war, like he said he would.
3) Nixon: Bugged Democratic National Headquarters and even his own office.
Clinton: Sometimes tunes in to Rush Limbaugh.
4) Clinton: Smoked an “evil weed,” said he didn’t inhale.
Nixon: Fucked his “enemies,” said he didn’t get off.
5) Nixon: Burglarized the office of Daniel Ellsburg’s psychiatrist.
Clinton: Tried to look down Carly Simon’s blouse.
6) Clinton: Feels our pain.
Nixon: Was our pain.
Kerry Joyce, Vote For Clinton – He Is Not a Dick