South by Si Wang-mu
[ Table of Contents ]
12.1 SxSW! -news/reviews- (etrigan@eden.com)
12.2 Cow eye. -URL- (membryk@madison.vislab.com)
12.3 Sesame Street Live. -ascii art- (mjankows@beta.centenary.edu)
12.4 Sesame Street Dead. -humor- (kelly.mccollum@chronicle.com)
12.5 Military rank. -humor- (mjankows@beta.centenary.edu)
12.6 Bill, the anti-christ. -humor- (membryk@madison.vislab.com)
12.7 Ruston, land of the free. -news- (etrigan@eden.com)
12.8 Ruston, home of the brave. -news- (anonymous)
**********************************************************************12.1
One of the top 10 reasons I moved to Austin is the yearly new music
festival called "South by Southwest". For the past two years, I have
attended as a local and reviewed it in the WU. Last year I was afraid
SxSW was on the verge of selling out. With Matthew Sweet, Cracker,
Ned's Atomic Dustbin and innumerable other "big name" bands, last year,
it was almost hard to find anything "new". I was extremely happy to
see this year's list had only a few big names and many many many artists
I had never heard of. I saw a lot of shows, several good ones, and a
few not very good ones. I'll only talk about the good ones, since re-
viewing the not good ones would only cause us both misery.
[][][][][][/ /] South Thursday:
[]+--+[][]/ /[] by Probably, the best overall night for
[]| |[][/ /][] SouthWest SXSW. There were actually more shows
[]| |[]/ /[][] that I wanted to see that night then
[]| |[/ /][][] all the other nights combined. No, I
_ []| |/ /[][][] didn't get to see Throwing Muses, Al-
/ \_[]|_ / /_[][][] ejandro Escoveda, Ben Folds Five, The
| |_ _===------ --- Geraldine Fibbers, The Idle Wilds,
\_/ []|__________][] Man...or Astroman, Emergency Broadcast
[][][][][][][][] Network, or Rise, but what I did see
was worth the price of the wristband.
Earthpig & Fire: Earthpig has been gaining noteriety on the Austin scene
as a fairly good guitarist, and since he shares a moniker with my fav-
orite comic book character I've been meaning to see him. He's teamed
up with a bassist and drummer and hence the birth of "Earthpig & Fire".
Extreme talent here. He played mostly in the manner of Jeff Healey (the
blind guitarist that had that video on Mtv), but his style was very much
Stevie Ray Vaughn. I'm not much for rip-off artists so you can trust me
when I say that Earthpig does SRV justice. He plays for the love of the
music (not the love of SRV which a lot of the Austin "blues" guitarists
suffer from.)
Prescott Curlywolf: Another local band I've heard about, but never seen.
There's a lot of talk that "all the new bands are just re-hashed Nir-
vana", and it's true. The nice thing about PC is that, to them, Nirvana
isn't a roadmap, it's just a general direction. Heavy influences from
Kansas and Credence make PC a great band. (http://www.hyperweb.com
/prescott/)
The Gourds: Let me just say: Wow. My high school senior class hired a
local punk band called "Picket Line Coyotes" to play at our Senior Party.
I don't really remember them that well (no age jokes, now!), even though
I probably still have their tape stashed in box in storage somewhere,
except for their country and western cover of "Anarchy in the U.K." that
should have clued me into what kind of music Kevin Russell and Jimmy
Smith would be doing nowadays, but I wasn't prepared for pure bluegrass.
Kevin Russell may be the best damned mandolin player I've ever heard (and
I've been to Silver Dollar City -- twice!!) These guys are a must-see;
even if you don't think you like blue grass The Gourds will change your
mind. (http://www.eden.com/~seagreen)
Hamell on Trial: I could populate the rest of this edition of the WU with
all the wonderful things I think about Hamell on Trial, which consists of
Ed Hamell and his guitar and his mike and "the Rock n Roll". (Go see Ed.)
Instead I'll tell you two of the jokes he told and then leave off my HoT
tip with some news:
- Mr. Lizard's wife is having a baby and Mr. Snail is at their house when
she goes into labor. Mr. Lizard goes frantic and asks Mr. Snail to run
get the doctor. Mr Snail agrees and Mr. Lizard starts getting impatient
after 10 minutes...then half an hour...then an hour...then 3 hours. He
leaves his wife's side to look out the front window for Mr. Snail and he
sees him on the front step. He throws open the door screaming "Where
have you been? It's been nearly 4 hours!" To which Mr. Snail haughtily
replies "If you're gonna be that way about it, you can go get the doctor
yourself."
- A guy walks into a bar and tells the barteneder "Fix me a drink, but
not the same one you fixed me last night. I got high, went home, and
blew chunks." The bartender says "How do you know it was the drink? It
could've been something you ate or a virus.", to which the guy replies
"No, you don't understand, my dog's name is chunks.
The Scoop- As drummer of the ex-Habitual Sex Offenders (and manager/
owner of Chicken Ranch Records) Mike Dickinson attended SxSW, also. As
he was looking for a cab to ferry him from the Electric Lounge to 6th
street he met up with a fellow traveler who was willing to share a cab.
It turned out to be Ed Hamell's manager who let on an insider tidbit: Ed
is being considered for gigs as a host, possibly with Mtv! Also, Hamell
on Trial's CD saw national release last week, so look for it in your
town.
Friday:
The best night for meeting people, and one of the more interesting stories
for the weekend. My friend roseylocks@aol.com was in town for SxSW and
I gave her a ride to the Electric Lounge where she was to meet up with her
brother and friends to see the Grifters. Since noone was around when we
got there I waited with her outside the gates, and who should I see, but
fellow SxSW regular Maya Misra and her beau Eric with this story to tell:
They were crashing at the same house as Roger Manning, one of today's top
three "Bob Dylan of the times" contenders (along with Hamell on Trial and
John Wesley Harding). Roger was supposed to be with his band, but they
couldn't make it so Maya and Eric got band-grade wrist bands (much better
than the local-grade tags I had to wear) AND they got to go around every-
where saying they were Roger Manning's band! Don't you wish you were that
cool? When everyone finally showed up, I split and met up with a new
friend who books bands for Altlanta's hottest live venue and then wandered
6th street for a while trying to hunt down either the people I'd left at
the Electric Lounge or Mike D. Luckily Mike was who I found and we met
at Roger Manning's gig, a new BBQ place called Stubbs. Great venue, and
even though I didn't try it, the BBQ smelled great. The quirkiest event
during SxSW was Stubb's choice for between-band entertainment. If you
ever walk 6th street you'll come across a crown-and-sunglass-wearing, bad-
ass-bass-playing fool who calls himself "the King". Stubb's hired him to
play next to the BBQ pits during set changes. He funked it up right.
Roger Manning: As I said previously, he could be the next Bob Dylan.
Cowboys and Indians: Mike D. dragged me to this show and I was wary to
hear someone labled as "Texas Swing", since doing Swing well is very
rare. I should have been tipped off to what to expect when Kevin Russell
(previously mentioned in "The Gourds") showed up. Cowboys and Indians
is the closest thing live or recorded I've heard to a modern group doing
good Swing. To say these guys kick ass is being conservative. They were
so tight and on, I thought it sounded like a CD. I'm learning to two-
step just so I can see this band next time they come through Austin.
Acetone: I'm not including this band just because they gave me their 7
inch. I caught them simply by accident and at first was only mildly im-
pressed. Then as they continued to play (despite the annoyingly loud
band downstairs) I couldn't help but be drawn in. Their sound is very
much like there name. A slow, sharp, clear guitar with quiet, crystal
vocals...very somber, and very cool. (http://www.bizmag.com/mvideo
/AceTone.mov)
Saturday:
This was quality, not quantity, night. After two really great shows and
a dissapointingly long line to see George Clinton, we gave up on the funk
and decided to hop from club to club without seeing anything worth any
mention. The two great shows, though:
John Wesley Harding: The third contender for the "Bob Dylan of the times"
title (and no, I don't miss the irony of him naming himself after a Bob
Dylan song). An honest man with his guitar and a seemingly endless flow
of song-writing talent. If you're an Elvis Costello fan (before he lost
his mind and started doing bizarre spoken word), then I highly reccomend
picking up JWH's new album "new deal". (http://web3.starwave.com/showbiz
/musicreviews/music/johnharding.html or http://lemur.magnet.com/~alaken
/wes)
Arlo Guthrie: Without a doubt one of the most entertaining folk singers
from the 60's. Of course, most of them have died of drug overdoses or
moved to Amish communes...regardless Arlo was really impressive. His
style is more polished then I would have liked (I prefer the Arlo of the
late 60's) he's still got a hilarious view of life and it shines in his
performances.
Well that's it for SxSW. If you want to join us next year for what has
become the biggest Indie and Big Name music industry event of the year,
let me know. Thanks to Mike D., Stormy, Erin, Mike, Greg, and Ruth for
joining me in my annual quest for new musical refreshments.
**********************************************************************12.2
http://www.exploratorium.edu/learning_studio/cow_eye/
[ and I quote "...The Cow's Eye Dissection is one of the most popular ]
[ demonstrations at the Exploratorium. For many years it has helped ]
[ people satisfy their curiosity about what is inside an eye. The ]
[ material presented here is meant not to replace the act of dissect- ]
[ ing a cow's eye, but rather to enhance the experience..." ]
**********************************************************************12.3
[ Does this bring back sweet memories or what? ]
. -- .
( )
( (/oo\) )
( \''/ ) WW
( \/ ) wwwwww /__\
( ) w"ww ww"w | oo | _WWWWW_
( ) W o""o W (o)(o) (|_()_|) / o o \ (+)(+)
oo ( )W ______ W w" "w \__/ (| __O__ |)/ \
w"()"w ( ) "w \_\/_/ w" W -====- W /|\/|\ \ \___/ / \ -==- /
W -==- W ' -- ' ww""wwwwww""ww "w w" |||||||| /-------\ \ /
"wwww" = = |||||||||||| w""""""""""w |||||||||=========| <\/\/\/>
w" "w = = ||||||||||||W W|||||||||=========| / \
Elmo Big Bird Oscar Cookie Monster Bert Ernie Kermit
Sunny day, sweepin' the clouds away;
Find my way to where the air is sweet.
Can you tell me how to get
how to get to Sesame Street?
Come and play, everything's A-OK!
Friendly neighbors there, that's where we meet.
Can you tell me how to get
how to get to Sesame Street?
This Message Has Been Brought To You By The Letter K
And The Number 16.
**********************************************************************12.4
[ I couldn't include that, without including this. ]
http://www.intersurf.com/~materva/junk/muppets.txt
an excerpt:
AP Online
AP 10/02 9:24 EDT V482
Copyright 1993. All Rights Reserved.
NEW YORK
NEW YORK (AP) -- Morning light has brought an eerie calm to Seseme Street
after a night of rioting. Smoke rises from most buildings. On the
street, lifeless, crumpled fur lies in mute testiment of the night of wild
outrage. Unknown numbers of muppets have died or been shot to death by
Police in full riot gear. Here and there, a muppet--still animated with
life--can be seen staring at the wreckage, or sweeping vacantly at the
rubble. The Count was reported running down the street crying and
yelling, "Ten, Ten Lifeless Muppet Bodies!" No humans were killed in the
rioting, although several people reported rug-burns.
**********************************************************************12.5
The Image of Rank
General:
Leaps over tall buildings in a single bound, is more powerful than a
locomotive, is faster than a speeding bullet, walks on water, and gives
policy to God.
Colonel:
Leaps over short buildings in a single bound, is more powerful than a
switch engine, is just as fast as a speeding bullet, walks on water if
sea is calm, and talks to God.
Lieutenant Colonel:
Leaps over short buildings with a running start and a favorable wind, is
almost as powerful as a switch engine, is as fast as a speeding b-b,
walks on water in an indoor pool, and talks to God if special request is
approved.
Major:
Barely clears quonset huts, loses tug-of-war with locomotives, can fire a
speeding bullet, swims well, and is occassionally addressed by God.
Captain:
Makes high marks when trying to leap buildings, is run over by
locomotives, can someimes handle a weapon without inflicting self-injury,
can doggie-paddle, and talks to animals.
First Lieutenant:
Runs into buildings, recognizes locomotives two out of three times, is
not issued ammunition, can stay afloat if properly instructed, and talks
to water.
Second Lieutenant:
Falls over doorsills when trying to enter buildings, says "look at the
choo-choo," wets himself with a water pistol, and mumbles to himself.
An NCO:
Lifts building and then walks under them, kicks locomotives off the
track, catches speeding bullets in his teeth, and chews them, and freezes
water in a speeding glance.
He is God.
**********************************************************************12.6
The real name of "the" Bill Gates is William Henry Gates III. Nowadays he
is known as Bill Gates (III), where "III" means the order of third (3rd.)
By converting the letters of his current name to the ASCII-values and
adding his (III), you get the following:
B 66
I 73
L 76
L 76
G 71
A 65
T 84
E 69
S 83
I 1
I 1
I 1
--------------
666 !!!
Some might ask, "How did Bill Gates get so powerful?" Coincidence? Or
just the beginning of mankind's ultimate and total enslavement???
Before you decide, consider the following:
M S - D O S 6 . 2 1
77+83+45+68+79+83+32+54+46+50+49 = 666
W I N D O W S 9 5
87+73+78+68+79+87+83+57+53+1 = 666
Coincidence? You decide...
**********************************************************************12.7
The next couple of stories are somewhat cathartic for me. I haven't
been too vocal over the reasons I dropped out of college and fled the
town of Ruston, La. (that would be Louisiana Tech University, for those
of you without clue). In trying to explain what it's like to be going
to college: a place of growth, eperimentation, a life-test of trial and
error (or so I believed); and have to deal with the oppresive mentality
of a tiny "Bible Belt and Louisiana Redneck" town, I present for your
consideration the following two stories:
A good friend of mine still lives in Ruston. He grew up around there
so he's more acclimated and has been able to deal with it better. Still,
after this incident he almost moved out the next day. He had been at his
next door neighbor's house smokin' some "God-given green" and was just
settling down to read a magazine when there was a loud knock on his door.
Expecting an over-jubilant friend, he was shocked to see three of the
large variety of "Ruston's finest".
"Mr. X, we hear you're growing marijuana plants in this house."
"Um, no."
[ Rights being read, and then...]
"Do we have your permission to search the place, Mr. X."
"O.k."
The search ensued and the police proceeded to open every canister and
drawer and cabinet they could find (which seems a little odd, in retro-
spect, since there are no marijuana plants that you could keep in, say,
a coupon-sorter, or the silverware drawer, or a CD's jewel box.) They
did find two pipes with resin deposits and from there they began the
'interrogation'.
"Did you know that if this tests positive for marijauna we can take you
in?...Who's your dealer? Who do you buy from?...You're in serious
trouble...How can someone unemployed have so many CDs?...You've got
the hot potato now, who you gonna pass it to?...etc., etc."
Mr X. made it clear that he wouldn't be 'passing the hot potato' and the
police made it clear that he was gonna go to jail if he didn't come up
with something. "Well, if you're taking me in, let me get my shoes on."
says Mr. X. "Alright, we're gonna go finish some paperwork, and we'll
be right back."
That was several weeks ago. Mr. X is still waiting, though he's changed
his shoes several times since. (And by the way, the worst he could have
seen from the incident is $250 for paraphenelia, and another $250 for an
immeasurable amount of marijuana (the resin in the pipes).)
**********************************************************************12.8
[ Another anonymous story. You may be thinking that all this ]
[ anonymity takes away from the credibility of the stories, but ]
[ remember even people in Ruston have web access, and more than ]
[ once my e-mail conversations with people from LaTech have ]
[ mysteriously ended after they find out I used to be in Comp. ]
[ Sci. there, so... The attitude of the cops in the previous ]
[ story, the antagonists (and the subject) in this story should ]
[ clue you into the fact that's it real easy to get bored in ]
[ Ruston. Different people just find different ways to relieve ]
[ the boredom. ]
This has been the coolest week as far as crazy stuff going on. This
story is absolutely 100% true. I must just have a knack for getting
psychos to have deathwishes on me. Read on, and if you repost this
anywhere, don't have my name anywhere on it, because they know my name
but they don't have verification that I am who I am. This would do it,
and I don't need to let them have the upper hand.
---------- Forwarded message ----------
Date: Fri, 15 Mar 96 01:12:55 CST
From:
To:
Subject: Bill Clinton Saga... trouble!
Friends... I have some disturbing news for you. Right now I am hiding out
in the computer lab of my dorm. This may sound wussy but I have about
eight guys looking for me to kick my ass right now. They are in my dorm
with all the evidence as I speak. Let me tell you the story from the
beginning (this might get long, but right now I have nothing but time on
my hands).
A couple of weeks ago, some sickos hung a Bill Clinton doll from the
lamppost in the Centennial Plaza by a noose with his hands tied together
and with a piece of duct tape over his mouth. No, I don't like Clinton
that much, but this was a disgraceful thing. At the urge of [Fred], who
does sympathize with Clinton, we went and took it down that afternoon.
Now if you were to hang an effigy in your school's plaza, wouldn't you
expect to lose the doll? Instead, this guy starts looking for it. This
monday, I was at the school radio station hanging out with friends doing
a talk show and this guy calls up. He says he is looking for his Bill
Clinton doll. I tell the guy on the phone that I have the doll, and he
hands me the phone. I put on a phony Iranian accent (the first to pop
into my head) and tell him that I have the doll. He immediately starts
bitching, and finally the DJ hung up the phone on him.
My friends back in the dorm were listening to the show, and when I came
home they thought that was the awesomest thing they had ever heard. We
came up with a plan to play with these fools.
A photography major friend of mine has access to a darkroom, so Tuesday
night we went and took pictures of Mr. Clinton in all kinds of dangerous
positions, such as hanging off the balcony of a building, being dangled
over a flushing toilet, and having a aerosol flamethrower being aimed at
it. Of course, every Tech prank has to have the obligatory Lady of the
Mist angle, so we perched Bill atop the fountain and took his smiling
picture.
[ The "Lady of the Mist" is a statue in the center of Louisiana Tech's ]
[ quad that's neck is absurdly thick from layer upon layer of repair ]
[ plaster after all the beheadings she's suffered. She's not had a ]
[ good year since she was first erected, poor thing. ]
Next we began to write ransom notes. I mirror wrote them for weirdness
and we signed each letter "King Taproot, the Irate Iranian". We deli-
vered one each on Tuesday and Wednesday nights, and tonight dropped the
bomb on them. I had pizza for lunch, and saved the box. I took a
Mastercard promotional poster and mirror wrote a lot of bull on the back
of it, and scratched out the cardholder's name and wrote in "W. Clinton".
At the bottom of the poster, it said "Bill is closer than you think".
First I got into the Dungeon of Hutcheson (the owner's dorm), and taped
the poster up opposite his door. Then I went back and got the pizza
box from the stairwell, dropped it by his door, knocked and ran. Inside
the pizza box was a picture of Bill Clinton's ass hanging out of a
garbage can, and a note. The important part of the note read "You should
go to the post where you left Bill for dead. There may or may not be
important information there for you." I got the other three accomplices
to tape a white cardboard envelope (the same every other ransom note/
picture was sent in) to the post, where he had left a sign advertising a
generous reward for Bill Clinton's doll with the home phone number of Dan
Reneau, president of Tech. (I responded to this sign with a phone call
to the doll's owner saying "I talked to Dan and he said that you could
help me out with that reward" at which point he hung up. Then I forged
email from Dan Reneau saying that his behavior would not be tolerated.
Cool huh?)
[ A coupla' sidebars: Hutcheson ("The Hut") is the jock/beau-hunk ]
[ dorm. It was not a safe place for long-hairs, rollerbladers, or ]
[ anyone not in a frat when I was there. I doubt it has changed ]
[ much. Also, it should tell you about his "endearing" support of ]
[ the students, that Dan Reneau (again, !President of Tech!) gave ]
[ his number to be used to recover a tasteless effigy of Clinton. ]
[ Whether you support Clinton or not, it's not only illegal to do ]
[ such a thing (should we call the FBI?), it's abhorrent. ]
I trucked on over to the Centennial Plaza, where my three accomplices were
waiting for me. After conversing for a minute, we got into an adjacent
building and looked out an office window. Soon the doll's owner, along
with two more guys and a girl (two of which watched me walk up to the
Plaza) showed up. He grabbed the envelope and they went crazy. They
cursed and stomped around, and looked for clues, then finally left. I
took one of my accomplices to his dorm to get his book so he could study
for an exam tomorrow. We had decided to make this an all nighter, with
phone calls bearing clues and other such spy-esque pranks, to make the
doll's owner's night more fun. I stared with surprise as I parked at my
dorm. The four individuals from the Centennial Plaza were walking to the
front door. (My dorm is all the way across campus from all the other
men's dorms, so they had no business being there at 1 am).
I sang 2pac's "California Love" as I walked among the ruffians, which was
probably a big mistake since one of the lines on the back of the poster
was "As 2Pac said, 'California knows how to party'", with my intent of
hiding the doll somewhere on California St. before departing Ruston
tomorrow. I walked directly to my room, removed the doll from his
incredibly visible display spot on my closet, and placed him in the
cabinet under the sink. Then I walked into the formal lounge, to see
the owner and his henchmen and a pile of evidence spread
------- End of Forwarded Message -------
Ok, I am back and safe. It is the next afternoon. I had to leave the
computer lab because one of their friends from my dorm came into the
lab.
What I was saying was that they had all the evidence spread out in the
lounge, and that when I walked in, I heard the psycho talking about
whooping some ass, and heard my name, but he doesn't know who I am. Then
one of my accomplices (all three of which were in the room) told me "get
lost, NOW" and I ditched to the computer lab and started typing the story.
I just got the following email from a friend who is not an
accomplice in this:
From: xxxxx@xxxxxxx.xxxFri Mar 15 15:35:43 1996
Date: Fri, 15 Mar 1996 07:45:41 -0600
From: Xxxx Xxxxxxx
To: xxx@xxxx.xxxxx.xxx
The guy does not want the doll back! He just wants you but he does not
know what you look like. This guy is a psyco!!!!!! I went down to see
[someone] and the whole wing plus30 were going on a lynch expidition, i'm
serious, this guy is nuts. He was running up the hall punching the
fucking wall! nutbag They totally missed all the clues (like I said)
and I had to point them all out, Hey look at this!
[end of email]
This friend lived on the floor above the Dungeon, and saw them before
they left. He called four or five times and told my roommate that the
whole dungeon was after me, and sounded really worried. He warned me that
I would get busted, but I didn't worry. In fact, it is more fun now that
I know they are playing back, and the fact that they upped the stakes
means two things: 1) I am the proud new owner of a Bill Clinton doll with
a cool story behind it, and 2) now I know what pushes this guy's buttons.
They don't know what they are doing. They know my name and room number,
well, my roommate tried to throw them off the track on my room number by
telling them I moved down the hall last quarter. After they went to look
down the hall, my roommate and my friend went crazy picking up evidence,
and I now have a laundry bag stuffed full of pictures, posters,
envelopes, and yearbook inserts with Dan Reneau, university president,
cut out, as well as some ads that I was going to post to get that guy a
lot of phone calls. Things like "Popular local alternative band seeks
guitarist", "Giant Iguana mountain bike, 18" frame, with Magic tires,
Grip Shift Xrays, and Rock Shox Quadra suspension. 2 years old. $125",
and one for free condoms, and my personal favorite, "Earn Cash Quick: I
need ten attractive subjects for my study on multiple female orgasms.
Paying $50 per orgasm (No Fakes!)". And my RA, who goes to Grambling on
Tuesdays and Thursdays for a class, wanted me to make him a sign to post
suggesting the sexual shortcomings of the black man and how this
particular guy could satisfy their unsatisfied girlfriend's needs.
The signs may still go up.
Now, I don't know what is going on. They are still looking for me,
whoever they think I am, and I don't care. I am about to go post the last
picture, that of Bill Clinton with a Lysol can and a lighter pointed at
him, on the front door of the dorm he lives in, with a message saying
he'd never get the doll back, and that he'll never find me. We'll take
it from there.
I may be back with a sequel to this, depending on what else goes on.