Archive for May, 2013
As I was walking to Walgreens on Friday, a carrier pigeon with seven wings landed on my shoulder. I opened the message in its talons and it summoned me to a cave 52 miles outside of Provo, Utah. I immediately ran to my car, sped to the airport and bought a ridiculously priced ticket for Provo on a plane leaving in 35 minutes. After all, this sort of thing had never happened to me before.
The message read simply “The Guy From Universe Number Five Has Summoned You”. Then, it gave me the coordinates. That was all.
When I arrived in Provo, I stole a car out of the long term parking lot (2009 Ford Focus…the thing handles like a dream) and drove about 120 miles per hour to get to the cave. I arrived five minutes later with the hoof of a deer in the car’s front grill and a look of complete panic on my face.
When I entered the cave, I encountered a beast like I had never seen before. It had 47 horns and 22 tails. Fire shot from its gills.
“Are you…..Grimlock Von Myxlplyx?” I asked shyly.
“GRRR4AGDR7WHWY#U+=Y#U??!#?&#YG$#Y!#%#%aHB!#UJN$@NTR,” it responded.
And the interview began….
Grimlock…..where is Universe Number Five located?
A question a child might ask, but not a childish question. First, one has to look within themselves to determine where Universe Number Five is NOT. Then, after one has verified proof that a certain point is NOT Universe Number Five, one must accept that everything else is Universe Number Five. Up to and including this. And that.
What is your Universes current relationship with Universe Number 14?
Being that Universe Number 14 is part of Universe Number Five, I treat it in much the same manner the band Dead Horse would treat the Spice Girls. Even though there is a perceived separation, one can’t escape that beyond the illusion it is one and the same. And neither. While both.
What is the relationship between spirituality and metal?
If you cannot enter a deep meditation while listening to Gore Beyond Necropsy or Exit-13, you are simply not trying hard enough. When metal isn’t tried hard enough, you get bands like Asking Alexandria, Pantera and Black Veil Brides. When spirituality isn’t tried hard enough, you get religious zealots who want to manipulate the social structure of society or groups of easily misled young men willing to blow themselves up to further a cause that would ultimately seek to suck the life from humanity. When both are merged and utilized to their maximum potential in our everyday lives however, we can do a myriad of wonderful things, up to and including drinking coffee and eating fried chicken. That, my friend, is Mu. That, my friend, is Enlightenment.
I’ve heard you and the DRI mascot had a falling out. Can you tell us a little bit about what started the feud? Is there any chance of reconciliation?
If I were a lesser man, I’d blame Wendy Moncrief. However, I believe in accountability. Foremost, I should never have assumed that he was without emotion and basic human feelings when I reported his survival of the building fire. While I’m glad that he didn’t become a victim of a Righteous Pigs song, I was very callous in the way I handled the conversation with him. Plus, he’s Bobby Gustafson’s friend. For that he deserves a hug and some understanding.
If you were trapped on an island with one Incantation album for the rest of your life, which would it be?
If it can’t be their entire discography slammed into an mp3 CD, then with apologies to “Onward To Golgotha” and “Diabolical Conquest”, I’d have to select “Make It Big”.
If you were trapped on an island with Incantation what album would you listen to first?
I wonder if they’d play “Make It Big” in its entirety. Kinda like the “Mindcrime” tour… Just play “M.I.B.” followed by an assortment from their other albums. Hell, they could even do it unplugged if they had to. Ukeleles, Hawaiian style. “Oahu To Golgotha” Tour 2013, get your T-shirts! Get your programs!
If you were trapped in the belly of a giant narwhal all with the former members of Sepultura what would you listen to first?
Oh, that’s easy. I’d listen to something Wu-Tang-y like Sarcofago’s “I.N.R.I.” I figure if anything will get the Seps back to their roots (bloody or otherwise) it’d be that. Perhaps it would wake them from their coma or whatever malaise they’ve obviously been going through for the last 20 years.
According to Congressman and former Obituary saxophonist Allen West, one of the main reasons he lost in his bid to become President of Florida was because of the Universe Number Five article claiming he was made of gorgonzola cheese. How do you respond to these charges?
First of all, I stand firmly behind the reporting of my sources. If Source X says that West is Gorgonzola, then it’s true. Look, this is Florida. The strangest things in the entire universe happen in this state on a daily basis. So bizarre are we, in fact, that the West/Gorgonzola news wasn’t even newsworthy enough to make the papers that day. It was seriously news item #1,178 the day it broke.
What was your first reaction when you realized that Ice Cube was doing children’s films?
I was stoked, actually! The carbon-based electro-soul that represents itself to humanity as Ice Cube is a multifaceted being. People like to label him as the guy who made some of the greatest hip-hop albums of all-time. While, of course, that is true, he’s not to be pigeonholed. He is a rapper, an actor, an activist, a soccer mom, a balloon enthusiast, a kangaroo caretaker, the tuba player on Opeth’s “Blackwater Park” album, an electrician, an electric eel, eclectically ill, and has a license to chill. Respect.
What’s your opinion on consonants?
As a Scrabble player, I love them. Especially ‘Q’. Until I started playing Scrabble, I didn’t know that “Qi”, “Qat”, and “Suq” were actual words. Now they are straight up weapons of word game assassination. Also, when you experience getting “Quixotic” in a triple word score box, everything, including the Tampa Bay Buccaneers winning another Super Bowl, pales in comparison.
Who is your favorite Black Sabbath singer Tony Martin, Ian Gillian or Leopold Stokowski?
It troubles me that you neglected to include Jeff Fenholt here. Fenholt has a resume that would make George O’Leary proud. According to his autobiography, he was once a full time vocalist for Black Sabbath during the 80’s. He even wrote of tales of drugs, abuse, debauchery, etc. Why? To further his televangelism career, according to his siblings. He wanted to sound as awful as possible so as to make his redemption seem more impressive. Once it came to light that the dude was at least semi-fraudulent, Trinity Broadcasting Network fired him, or at least kinda started neglecting him. In reality though, he was romantically linked to Salvador Dali’s wife in her last days. That is much more impressive than singing for Black Sabbath. Think about it, anyone could sing for Sabbath, heck they let Ozzy do it. However, scoring with the wife of the greatest artist of the last 200 years?? THAT is metal!
In closing, thanks Keith. When I grow up, I wanna wear your shoes. Also, if you don’t own “Testimony Of The Ancients” by Pestilence, I’ll pray for your lost soul. And stuff. Read the “Boomer Bible”. Tip your waitresses… over. Out!
If you haven’t been to Universe Number Five, you’ll end up there eventually. So…why wait?
The President arrived at The East Room at an event honoring the remaining CIA members responsible for helping to illegally arm the Contras in the 1980s with (OMG….you are not going to believe this!!!)…lipstick on his collar.
“I don’t want to get in trouble with Michelle, so I’ll have you know that this isn’t lipstick…it’s blood!!!” quipped the President to raucous applause and laughter from the fawning, ever-diligent press corps.
The President also took the moment to announce that he has personally ordered drone strikes on former members of the band Sepultura. Some ex-members of Sepultura, which means “grave” in some weird foreign language, have been linked to a sinister splinter group that goes by the ominous name “The Cavalera Conspiracy”.
The former lead singer, Max Cavalera, was involved in the 1990s with a project referred to only as “Nailbomb”. A nail bomb is an explosive device often built by terrorists out of ordinary household items. It often contains nails (or other sharp, pointy things) and can explode and cause harm to people who are susceptible to injury from flying shrapnel. They are very, very dangerous, particularly when they kill people. These cheaply built weapons, often referred to as IUDs, have caused death and injury to thousands of people, including Americans.
Max and his brother, a shadowy figure who goes by the name “Igor”, are both wanted in connection for their parts in The Cavalera Conspiracy. “The greatest threat to America, besides Michelle if she finds out about the lipstick, are The Cavalera Brothers,” trying to hold back his trademark grin as throngs of reporters collapsed to the floor and began spasmodic seizures of laughter.
The President assured the audience that no current members of Sepultura would be harmed. “The United States government has an avowed policy of only killing people when they are in the way or within a hundred mile vicinity of evil people. As far as we known, in spite of their current status as Brazilians, the people of Sepultura are 100 percent safe,” said the President in a calm, confident, comforting, assuring, Presidential tone.
Predator drones have become the President’s weapon of choice because of their uncanny ability to allow for maximal destruction with minimal impact on public opinion poll numbers. Americans aren’t in the planes, so unless one of the soldiers operating an aircraft from a hangar in Nevada accidentally chokes on a ham sandwich, they harm only bad people. Even if one goes off course and destroys a questionable military target, like a hospital or school, the President could always buy a new dog and mollify the American public until the next atrocity comes along.
Westboro Baptist Church To Protest Funeral of Iron Maiden Guitarist Janick Gers; Gers Claims He’s Not Dead
The Westboro Baptist Church is at it again. This time, they have planned a massive protest at the funeral of Iron Maiden guitar player Janick Gers. There is only one problem; Gers believes that he is not dead.
“The whole thing is preposterous! My pulse is beating….you want to feel it,” claimed Gers to a roomful of skeptical reporters.
In spite of Gers protestations, the Internet has been filled with articles about his passing into the afterlife. Facebook has registered over 10,000 “RIP Janick” posts in the last several days. The Westboro Baptist Church has already flown 4,000 protestors to Des Moines, Iowa, where Gers’ memorial service is supposed to be held next week. Yet, in the face of overwhelming evidence, Gers will simply not admit that he is dead.
“You have to believe me! I’m alive! ALIVE!!!!!!” howled Gers as he fended off two EMTs who were trying to force him to lie down on a stretcher in order to be transported to the morgue.
The cause of death is yet to be determined and probably will not be until Gers agrees to an autopsy. So far, he has refused to be dissected. “If he’s alive, then let’s have him prove it,” said Des Moines Chief Medical Examiner Claude Perineum, “if we get in there and find out he’s telling the truth, we will immediately stich him back up and send him on his way. Otherwise, he’s just being dishonest and wasting the time and money of the taxpayers.”
While many in the metal world have grieved the supposed passing of Gers, Westboro Baptist Church leader Fred Phelps has been overjoyed. Phelps, who believes that America is being punished for its acceptance of gays and lesbians and its tolerance for high amounts of fluoride in the water supply, has already arrived in Iowa for the funeral. According to Phelps, “the decadent lifestyle and love of Satan preached by these British ne’er-do-wells has eroded the moral fabric of America. Iron Maiden’s singer, Ron Halford, is, in fact, an admitted homosexual!!!”
At a rally last night at The Des Moines Church of Christ The Climate Change Denier, Phelps announced that he had in his possession proof that heavy metal is a Trojan horse being used to turn America into a “breeding ground for the gay way of life”. “In my hand right now is a list of 205 homosexuals in the heavy metal world!” hollered Phelps with his grocery list grasped tightly and held over his head.
Many Iron Maiden fans plan to attend the memorial service whether Gers is dead or not. “Iron Maiden is the greatest band of all-time and, even though no one can figure out why they needed a third guitarist, this is indeed a terrible loss, if it is true, which it might not be,” said devout Maiden listener Kent Tekulve, who plans on walking over 1,000 miles from his home in Flagstaff, Arizona to the service.
Citing fears of inflation and the dollar’s weakness against foreign currency, Tool vocalist John Maynard Keynes has decided to part ways with his band of nearly 20 years. Keynes, whose work was strongly influenced by Bertrand Russell, King Crimson and the Melvins, has decided to drop out of the music scene for a while and focus on making claymation videos of economist David Ricardo being attacked by swarms of Marxist killer bees.
This is not the first time Tool has had to deal with the loss of a lead singer. In 1958, singer and former beatnik Maynard G. Krebs was forced to leave the band after being arrested for selling nuclear secrets to the Soviets. Krebs, who later went on to star on the television show The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis, is still best known for studying how the body oxidizes carbohydrates. He was 58.
Former Atlanta mayor and person who they named half of an airport after, Maynard Jackson, also briefly sang for the in the band in the 1970s. Jackson, who was the least well-known member of the Jackson 5, also played alto-sax, guitar and zither on the first Tool album Undertow. Jackson, the mercurial, but powerful rightfielder for the New York Yankees, led the team to a title in 1977 after hitting a record three homeruns in one game against the Dodgers. Later to be known as Son of Sam, Jackson was responsible for a series of homicides that rocked the New York metropolitan area later that year.
In spite of losing several singers, the band has still managed to be one of the most popular hard rock acts in the world. They gained a great deal of popularity due to their hit songs Schism and Sober along their outlandish stage performances that feature economist David Ricardo being attacked by Marxist piranhas. They have won over 17 Grammys for their 1987 cover of the Taylor Swift classic “I Knew You Were Trouble” back in 1985.
They became a major part of the American lexicon in 2006 when the members began starring with Wilmer Valderama on the popular children’s television show Handy Manny. Tool drummer and Orioles cleanup hitter Adam Jones, who plays Felipe the Screwdriver on the show, was awarded the Disney Kid’s Choice Award in 2010 for the episode “Felipe Screws The Pooch” where he deals with the accidental dismemberment of a Portuguese Water Dog by Dusty The Handsaw. I’m wearing a Belgian waffle on my forehead.
For years, the biggest mystery in heavy metal has been the identity of Ghost vocalist Papa Emeritus. Ghost burst upon the scene in 2010 to rave reviews from metal fans everywhere (including an endorsement from one-time Presidential candidate Sarah Palin). However, up until this point the band has been highly guarded about their identity, never appearing without their trademark corpse paint and hoods in public and forcing interviewers to be blindfolded and driven seven hours to a cave in an undisclosed part of New Mexico to do interviews.
However, our staff of investigative reporters at Tyranny of Tradition have uncovered exclusive documents proving, without a shadow of a doubt, that Ghost’s enigmatic front man is actually former Geto Boys rap sensation Bushwick Bill.
The documents, which were passed to one of our reporters in an underground garage by a high level government official who went by the fictional name “John Holmes”, show tax returns filed by the band for the past two years along with handwriting samples from checks supposedly written by Papa Emeritus that, when analyzed by the CIA, appear to have been signed by Bushwick Bill. Included with these documents was a DNA sample taken off of Papa Emeritus’ fake Pope hat by FBI agents while it was at a dry cleaners in Provo, Utah that is close to matching the DNA of the rapper.
The Jamaican born Bushwick Bill, whose real name is Dr. Wolfgang Von Bushwickin the Barbarian Mother Funky Stay High Dollar Billstir, has had a checkered past that included being shot in the eye by his girlfriend, nearly being deported for a drug arrest, and penning the script to Superbabies: Baby Geniuses II.
He had all but disappeared from the public eye after a short tenure as the backup point guard for the Sacramento Kings during the 2008-09 season. According to a source close to the band, it was about this time that Bill devised his plan to start the band Ghost.
Few people suspected the diminutive 3 foot 8 rapper of being the singer from Ghost because of his strongly held religious beliefs. Bill became a born-again Christian back in 2006. Ghost’s over-the-top satanic imagery and hedonistic lyrics seemed a poor match for the rapper’s monastic lifestyle.
Credible press reports had even surfaced that several other people were Papa Emeritus including actor Jonah Hill, former Knicks Center Patrick Ewing and Def Leppard drummer Rick Allen. However, these reports were fabrications created by the band in order to throw the press off of Bushwick Bill’s trail.
(The Dissection of The Soul In Three Parts)
Bethlehem, Pennsylvannia-How much would you pay for the soul of a 5 million year old man? 10 million dollars? 20 million? 100 million? What about a billion dollars? 10 billion dollars? 100 billion dollars? A trillion dollars???
Would you give up the pinky finger on your left hand? What about your right pineal gland? Would you watch every episode of the television show Manimal? Would you become a cannibal who injects himself with Dianabol? Would you sell your children to a band of angry Saudis? Would you trade in your mother for three broken down Audis? Would you endure an hour-long attack from ravenous dogs? Would you reprise Ray Milland’s role in the movie Frogs? Would you trade dentures with Martha Raye? Would you spend Father’s Day with Marvin Gaye? Would you elope with an antelope? What about a cantaloupe?
Billionaire heiress Angelina Corpsegrinder did just that. Corpsegrinder, the granddaughter of former President John F. Corpsegrinder, purchased the soul at a nearly incalculable price at an auction on Friday outbidding thousands of lustful members of the American aristocracy. Corpsegrinder now has, within her beady little hands, possession of the one object that proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that God not only exists, but also intends us to hear his outrageous and inconsistent demands.
Encased in glass in case of loss, this abandoned soul sits in a vault, collecting interest at nearly 8 percent. Corpsegrinder has had the soul examined by thousands of religious icons and hundreds of other idle idols of the breathing class. Their findings all point to one inescapable fact, that people, given the correct amount of compensation and fearing for the devaluation of their name and the deflation of their credibility, will say anything to remain unforgotten by strangers. That we are conspiring against all logic and pinning our dreams and hopes upon an empty vessel is not important, what is important is that the conspiracy continues to hold true no matter how vengefully its core fiction has been used.
Thousands have filed past a replica of this soul in the Museum of Spirit, Fellowship and Other Inane Cruelties. For years, it was thought that this replica was the only soul alive in captivity. Many believed that, in nearly every case, when one expired, the soul passed into another realm leaving only a husk of body in some embarrassing pose. And teeth. Now, thanks to the generous nature of those who possess most of the world’s resources, we can rest assured that a real soul exists.
The soul originally belonged to a Neanderthal named Arnold Mulligan. In his haste to consume the flesh of a recently slaughtered pig, Mulligan’s soul fell out of his body and fell into a tar pit somewhere south of Tupelo, Mississippi. After being discovered some years back, the soul was passed to different collectors in high stakes poker games. It eventually fell into the clutches of former Presidential candidate Adali Stevenson and has languished in a coffee can in his basement since 1964. But, that is not important. Who needs chain of evidence when there isn’t even the evidence of a chain?
Finally, a pawnbroker from Jamaica, Queens named Arthur Leo Sclerosis slumped into the vault and examined the artifact. It was elliptical. No bigger than a marble. It had been poked and prodded by the finest pokers and prodders on this planet. Its verification had been peer reviewed by peers and reviewers who had all made tenure at the finest educational slaughterhouses on the planet. They had stood in line for hours to see it, all seeking to be part of a truth that, as keepers of truth, they were free to invent. Some of them, the rebels, tried to destroy it, but Plato had told them long ago that it couldn’t be destroyed, so they stopped.
Sclerosis didn’t care. He was dying and had the freedom that only the truly condemned and utterly forgotten can ever gain. His body, ravaged by disease and disrepair, crawled towards the altar upon which the soul had been placed. He made several silly motions with his hands to confuse the guards into thinking he was part of a group of fiction providers larger than himself, then he dove face first into the case, shattering the shatterproof glass and freeing the soul from the most recent in its series of cells.
The alarms sounded. Everyone on earth froze and locked their eyes upon him. Were it destroyed, they’d have to go back to having faith in something implausibly stupid. Were it destroyed, the whole edifice would plunge headlong into a nothingness of materials careening off one another and going nowhere in particular for an undetermined period of meaningless time. Were it destroyed, they’d have to accept the possibility that God or whatever creative force begat us from Its stomach was cruel enough to simply leave us in the middle of an endless wilderness of despair with no map to get home. Were it destroyed, they might look in the mirror and come face to face with a walking pile of animated flesh killing time between now and when its life functions had ceased.
“Please…we beg you! Leave us at least the illusion of stability in this demented nightmare of an existence!!!!” they cried in unison.
He held it aloft for all to see. “This,” declared Sclerosis “is nothing more than an M & M!!!!!”
He popped it into his mouth, chewed and swallowed. He died at that moment, for no other reason than his heart stopped beating.
People were aghast! So little truth had flashed before their eyes since religion adopted the game show format in the 1950s that this mockery of their very existence flung them into an orgiastic fit of rage. Still…there was something to this. After all, this was an experience they had just experienced. An event. A happening. A thing. They were all a part of it. Suddenly and without warning, the guards draped an American flag over the former man’s lifeless body and hoisted him on their shoulders as if he had just scored the game-winning touchdown in a championship football game.
“HE………IS………..RISEN!!!!!” they shouted in unison.
Everyone went back to work.