Message from Howl (w/ X-Day, new book)

From: "Rev. Ivan Stang" <stang@subgeniusNOSPUM.com>
Date: Wed, Jul 14, 2004

From: Hal Robins <halrobins@earthlink.net>
Subject: A Message From Dr. Hal: When Nomen Dubium Dinos Agress!

"Nobody reads this shit!"
-- Chicken John "Wow, are these lo-ong!" --Justin Credible

Volume II, No. 5 A MESSAGE FROM DR. HAL. July 14th, 2004
"Ask Dr. Hal" to Show Sanguineous "When Speculative Ceratopsians
Attack!"
Opening Act: Houston Bernard, the "Gay Porno Rapper"

c o n t e n t s :

AFFADAVIT - GHOSTWRITER EXORCISED - FEATURETTE: ASSAULT BY PEPPERY
CERATOPSIAN - MY SUBGENIUS "TRIP" - X-DAY AND BEYOND - DUBIOUS DINOSAUR
DYNAMICS - BERNARD OF BOSTON - SOCIAL NOTES: VARIOUS VULCANOLOGISTS;
BON VOYAGE ANNA AND ENA - BUY MY NEW BOOK! - UPCOMING EVENTS: SUPPORT
MISS P.; NEW SF MIME TROUPE SHOW; ZIPPY THE PINHEAD; ERIC CASHES IN -
FAVORITE QUESTIONS: WEASEL CHANGES; BUM BIRTHS; ISKANDAR'S NAG; SEAT OF
BEAUTY - DISCLAIMER

My friends, it is I, Dr. Howland Owll, who write these words once
again. Quite a few confused individuals at the Odeon asked me, just
before the July 7th show, if I "knew" that the Ask Dr. Hal Report
(Volume II, No. 4) had been "hacked." Ladies and Gentlemen! Messieurs
et Mesdames, Damen und Herren, Signore e Signori, Pani e Pane, it is
indeed true, most plainly true, that another hand than mine produced
the previous edition of this Bulletin. That ought to have been, I
should think, fairly obvious to any attentive reader-- it's not my
usual practice, for example, to conclude with "...aw, go fuck
yourself!" And it was, in fact, renegade scientist (and Odeon regular)
Pete Goldie who took over these writing chores while I attended a
certain religious Festival in western New York State. But there was no
"hacking" to speak of. The complex duties to the Order in which I
serve, together with the geographical remoteness and isolation of the
site, precluded any involvement on my part with last week's Report, and
ghostwriter Goldie, that elusive phantom, graciously stepped into the
traces in my absence at my express invitation.

But now I have returned-- to announce that the award-winning "Ask Dr.
Hal" show this upcoming Wednesday night, July14th, at the Odeon, San
Francisco's Variety Arts Showcase at 3223 Mission St. @ 29th, will
feature as an extra attraction the exhibition of a short but classic
featurette, lovingly crafted by crafty K-Rob, which we're calling,
"When Speculative Ceratopsians Attack!" This particular vignette
features no twenty-ton turtle, no pugnacious plesiosaurus. It's a
dinosaur, yes, clearly, but which dinosaur? I'll tell you to the best
of my ability, but some taxonomic mystery will still be present.

First, however, I'll speak briefly of my adventures among the SubGenius
faithful at the week-long orgiastic gathering culminating in that
consecrated date, "X-day," as we call it. True SubGeniuses assemble at
the same time each year in the Blessed Hope of experiencing the Rupture
(see The Book of the SubGenius and other sacred texts, to this day
still available in bookstores). According to the holy SubRevelation,
our world will end with the fateful econocataclysm predicted years ago
by the Sacred Scribe, Rev. Ivan Stang. According to Stang, this was to
occur on July 5th, 1998 at 7:00 AM; since that significant date, the
faithful now contend with each other over various interpretations, but
still dutifully show up each year at the fateful hour and day in full
expectation of being seized up into the clouds aboard the so-called
Pleasure Saucers of the Sex Goddesses.

As you can imagine, in anticipation of this Event there is considerable
uninhibited, er, roistering, around and near the Saucer Landing Field
at the Brushwood campground (and Nudist Colony) near Sherman, New York.
Since it's the End of the World, anything goes... And how to describe
that incredible moment when, after less than an hour of sleep ( I was
up till dawn initiating various SubGeniettes in the hot tub and pool),
I looked up to see the sunlight suddenly blotted out as the huge disc
of the great saucer hovered, then descended from above in absolute
silence? The chorus of the frogs ended and the birds also held their
notes. No one said anything; some of us held hands through an
unconscious reflex. For once Stang, cut short in the middle of an
impassioned, angry speech, was at a loss for words. Nearer and nearer
it came... Unfortunately, the rest must remain "classified" for the
time being-- the world is not yet ready for the complete story.

Needless to say, we're all still here, the world hasn't ended (to the
best of my knowledge) and I must resume the devoirs of my Ministry at
the Odeon. So be it, at least until next year. Meanwhile, about that
dinosaur attack we're viewing next Wednesday. This time, the dino wins.
It's that simple. There's no spectacular death of a prehistoric
"monster" for a change. Oh, there's a killing, all right, but this time
the human gets it. Boy, does he get it. I should caution the more
sensitive among you that the demise in question is accompanied by
extreme, bloody violence; you may need to hide your eyes delicately or
momentarily look away at the moment of the denouement, wherein a
struggling Homo sapiens is vividly impaled and mangled by a... what?
Here is the difficulty. I must respectfully disagree with Mr. Goldie's
statement last week, by the way, that "dinosaurs are not reptiles."
They certainly weren't like modern reptiles; that's a given, but
reptilian they indeed were in quite a few respects. Let's say they were
super reptiles, with reptilian integument, brains, dentition and other
recognizably diagnostic features, but in respect to size, metabolism
and overall dynamism unique among Earth's organisms. Anyway, what we
have here is some kind of ornithischian, some sort of ceratopsian (or
ceratopian), but an unidentified species. It has some features of
Styracosaurus, some of those of Centrosaurus, some of the recently
discovered Einiosaurus. It's a specimen unknown to Science. Let's leave
it at that. And this educational, scientific presentation has been
prepared exclusively for our show by none other than K-Rob, who
isolated himself in his Church Street redoubt to prepare this augmented
stop-motion entertainment just for you, folks. So return with us this
Wednesday to that time in cinema history when "special effects" were
just that-- special, produced non-digitally, yes, but instead by the
dexterous digits of the human hand-- this sort of thing was the work of
inspired individuals working with extreme concentration in trance-like
solitude. As always, narration shall be provided by me, Dr. Howland
Owll. We hope that ever after you'll always retain fond memories of
having viewed the "revenge of a rampaging, animus-bearing archosaur"
presented with the "Odeon touch." Do consider this e-mail your personal
invitation.

Our Opening Act

Ladies and Gents! Our brand new opener for Ask Dr. Hal will be one
Houston Bernard who hails from Boston, Mass. A self-described "gay
porno rapper," Mr. Bernard will expand your conception of hip-hop with
his provocative, puissant presentation. And this is only the beginning
of that night of virile, variegated showmanship known as "Ask Dr. Hal."
Oh, by the way, have I mentioned the cover charge for this piquant
portfolio of enlightening entertainments? Hold on to your
headgear--

Believe it or not, it's all COMPLETELY FREE!

Social Notes

Last week was the first Dr. Hal show of the new month. It ended with a
bus ride for everyone, after the show, as is our custom, to the
all-night bowling alley, Serra Bowl at 3301 Junipero Serra Boulevard in
historic Colma. It began with a stylish new opening act, an acoustic
musical set by singer Kierstin Gray from N.Y.C., providing a stressless
and affable beginning to the evening. Even if you weren't there you can
listen in at

www.kierstingrey.com

to get an idea of what you missed. As often happens, after a
discouraging interval with just a few stragglers in the house, during
which time we wondered if we hadn't lost practically all our usual
attendees to, say, the Burning Man Fire Festival, the audience suddenly
appeared more or less en masse, abruptly filling the club to comprise a
good-sized crowd. There was sculptor Al Honig, scholar of the
Unhallowed Arts D.S. Black, Odeon Cocaine All-Stars drummer Chris
Campbell, executive Chris Odell, and N.Y.'s Madagascar Institute's Jeff
Stark. Whisky Joe mumbled in the back corner, while alcohol-besotted
reading club the Belligerati was represented by members Geekboy and
Pete Goldie. The latter arrived with the elegant Sarah Szczechowicz.
Another notable couple were the peripatetic Don and Tracy, back from a
sojourn in the Eastern part of our land. It was good to see them--
sadly, we won't this upcoming Wednesday because they, along with
adventurer-explorer Rev. David Apocalypse will be investigating a live
volcano at close range-- watch out! --on one of the Hawaiian Islands
(once called the Sandwich islands). Speaking of sandwiches,
incidentally, the Dr. Hal Show Pot-Luck will not be held this time, on
the 14th, but rather next time on the 21st (probably, watch this
space). We had Ascended Yo-yo Master and star of stage and television
David Capurro among us-- Dave operated the house computer adroitly to
produce from the Internet, on our giant screen, some perfectly hideous
images of the deadly brown recluse spider and the ghastly, gangrenous
pathology of its necrotic bite, as the very matter was being discussed
in response to a question. Thanks, David! Josh the Orange Box Man was
not only Technical Director for the show but a personal storehouse of
esoteric scientific information, providing valuable assistance on the
subject of cholinesterase and its place in the function of the human
organism. You see, thanks to its in-house Brain Trust, the Dr. Hal show
is not just a goof; you can go home with more knowledge at your
disposal than when you came in. Beloved aerialist, chorine, ecdysiast
and house bartender Ena was there, but we won't se her for quite a
while. She's gone off with the Xtra Action Marching Band to perform for
the surly Serbs of Serbia and other lucky Old Worlders. We also saw
Sion Isaacs, poet Blake More, dancer Jamie Pickard of the Devilettes,
the captivating Captina, Anna Fitch, also departing for a season with
the Xtra Actioners, and Big Sculpture fabricator Rosanna, creator of
the fallen celestial Chandelier at last year's Burning Man Arts
Festival and the huge Black Widow Spider recently seen at Snooks'
Warehouse in Oakland. Rumor has it that her latest mammoth project is
15 feet tall, and in length 30 feet of metal, glass and Fiberglas. What
is it? Wait and see... Remember, folks, it's difficult for me to note
everyone who shows up; it gets hard to see into the house past those
brilliant, burning stage lights, and then, when I'm "off duty," many
have left by that time. If you'd like to have your name mentioned in
this space in these the possible last days of Dr. Hal, just write 'em
down on K-Rob's special sign-up sheet at the front of our stage.

Upcoming Events

Enjoy these shows now. Come to them when you can. Because the Odeon Era
will not last forever. Heaven and Earth shall pass away, and this too
shall pass away. But whatever the fate of the Odeon, don't forget...

The Last Party at 1907 Golden Gate -- All these years, "Miss P." Segal
has hosted those wonderful soirees. But now it seems they come to an
end. "The inevitable has finally happened," she writes, "the new
landlord... has decided that he must move into our apartment, and
we're supposed to be vacating as of August 1. Of course we have to have
one last, great party at this old place, and it will be July 17,
starting at 10 PM. Since moving is going to be an expensive venture,
this will be a fundraiser, $5 at the door, or more if you can afford
it, and there will be a no-host bar. We will also have a garage sale
room in the house, full of 1907 memorabilia, useful items and general
stuff. Please visit the late-night garage sale, take home a piece of
the old rock, and help us move into the next grand social venue."

"Showdown at Crawford Gulch"-- The San Francisco Mime Troupe's latest
play will keep going all summer, almost to the end of September.
They'll be in Palo Alto, Point Arena, Redway and Arcata this month--
then, July 28th & 29th they'll be in Oakland, Lakeside Drive at Lake
Merritt; show starts at about 7:00 PM; (excellent) live music starts at
6:30 PM. July 31st, Saturday, they're in Mosswood Park at MacArthur and
Broadway. The next day they'll play S.F. again, August 1st at Yerba
Buena Gardens, Mission and 3rd. And so it goes. These shows are FREE!
and they're always great; a Bay Area tradition. No kidding, S.F.M.T.
productions shouldn't be missed, and if I'm not mistaken this one will
feature in its cast the one and only Ed "SubHuman" Holmes, a.k.a.
Bishop Joey, the Grand Marshal of the St. Stupid's Day Parade (see Vol.
I, No. 5 of this Report).

www.sfmt.org

"Zippy the Pinhead in FUN: the Concept" -- Impossible Productions'
next play, an original stage adaptation of Bill Griffith's beloved
comic strip featuring the titular pointy-headed character; Fridays &
Saturdays through the end of the month-- July 16th, 17th, 23rd, 24th,
30th and 31st.. This is from the folks who brought you, among other
things, "Dr. Strangelove-- the Play" and "Clue-- the Play." At The Dark
Room Theater, of course, 2263 Mission St. between 18th & 19th. All
performances 8 PM-- $13 in advance, $16 at the door. For all
information:

http://www.darkroom.4t.com

"S.C.A.M. Featuring the Inevitable ERIC CASH" -- a potpourri of
Carnival Arts, all from Eric Cash, co-host of the Chris Karney Show,
and ex-emcee for the Know Nothing Zirkus (S.C.A.M. = Stunts, Comedy And
Magic). Sundays, July 18th, 25th and August 1st at the Climate Theater,
285 9th at Folsom. I, Dr. Hal, have seen this entertaining show, very
affordably priced at a mere $5.00. How can you lose? And it also
features the lovely Krista Bray on stage with other special guests.
Cards, flames, broken glass, airsickness bags, and firearms all
chaotically collide in this hour-long, hyperactive extravaganza. Not
much else is happening on Sunday nights...

A Special Announcement

I, Dr. Hal, have written a book and it would please the Gods (let alone
me) if it would sell. It's The Meaning of Lost and Mismatched Socks,
from Frog, Ltd. (North Atlantic Books), written, indexed and
illustrated by Yours Truly. In it I finally answer a question
originally put to me at "The Wizard of Ass" out in the desert some
years ago, as Chicken just tonight reminded me. You see, I eventually
do get around to answering all questions; with some it just takes me
longer, as in this case. This book costs a cool $9.95, but all books
are expensive these days-- I can't help that. However, I'd hate to have
written a "dud" book that didn't sell, for that would sully my already
besmeared reputation even further. So, Dr. Hal fans, if you really are
out there, prove it by going out and getting this book. If you like it,
you might want to get my next book (now in preparation). But first
things first. ISBN number 1-58394-097-9, paperback (but my dinosaur
book, if I ever get it done, will be a hardback). Available in
bookstores, I suppose. Help an impoverished author-- I have to sell a
mountain of these for my royalties to kick in; I have a terrible deal
with the publisher. Hey, bring it to the bar and I'll sign it. That's a
promise.

Some of our favorite Questions

"Dr. Hal, what's the difference between a weasel and an ermine?"
Thought you'd trick me, eh? Nice try. Yes, the weasel and the ermine
are the same animal. This mammal's coat changes with the seasons-- in
its white winter fur it's an ermine, in its brown fur it's just a plain
old weasel. "Dr. Hal, is rectal birth possible?" Welll... yes. That's
right, there are recorded cases of babies that have been delivered ex
fundamenti-- that is, through the rectum. Sometimes, during a
pregnancy, blockage of the mother's vaginal orifice may occur, forcing
the full-term fetus into the rectal area; the baby must then be
expelled through the anus. A 19th century British doctor named Payne
(appropriate, eh?) cites the case of a thirty-three-year-old woman who
gave birth in this manner. Dr. Payne palpated the perineum, and seeing
the child was located near the rectum, anesthetized the mother, a Mrs.
N_____, and delivered the infant with forceps through the anal aperture
"with little haemorrhage," he writes, " and an easy removal of the
placenta." And, Presto! A bouncing (if somewhat smelly) baby boy. "Dr.
Hal, what was the name of Alexander the Great's horse?" This was asked
as recently as our last performance. The answer is, Bucephalus. "Dr.
Hal, is my ass too big?" This query, often made, is not, strictly
speaking, a "Dr. Hal question." Yet its reiteration from many of my
(female) acquaintances merits a reply here. In all cases to date the
answer has been an emphatic "no." An unrealistic standard, set by
freakishly thin fashion models and non-heterosexual fashion designers
has caused many normally formed girls and women to feel insecure about
this essential element of their natural beauty. But if we travel
through time to the wellsprings of our culture, we find that in Ancient
Greece temples and statues were set up to Aphrodite Kallipygos, the
"Goddess with the beautiful buttocks." Within such an aesthesis, the
robust is more classically favored than the gracile. Cercidias of
Megalopolis recites in his Iambic verses the tale of the
"fair-buttocked sisters of Syracuse." Two beautiful girls, daughters of
a farmer, argued over which of them had the more beautiful behind. To
settle this, they both displayed themselves, bending over unclothed
before a fair (and wealthy) youth who passed by. The latter was so
struck by the charms of the elder sister that he went to bed ill; this
prompted his younger brother to view both the fair contenders,
whereupon he was smitten by the charms of the younger of the pair. So
obsessed became the boys that at length their father arranged to have
the girls joined in marriage to the two brothers. Pleased by this turn
of events, as well as by their newly acquired splendid wealth, the
sisters endowed the temple of Aphrodite, calling the goddess the
"Fair-Buttocked" as related also by Archelaus. And they lived happily
ever after. Now, I may not always enjoy the forum provided by the Odeon
to respond to your questions; it all has to end some time, you know.
So if you want to hear these answers, we strongly suggest you come to
our show-- or you'll miss 'em-- forever. Do you really want that? All
right, then! Long Live the Odeon!

Boilerplate

"Ask Dr. Hal" is open to all seekers and questers after enlightenment,
and special consultations and initiations are available in private,
particularly for comely, gracile, nubile females over the currently
legal drinking age of 21. Everybody else and all prospective opening
act performers should present their resumes, CDs, DVDs and/or audition
tapes to "Chicken" John for evaluation. I am unable, owing to serious
demands on my time at present, to give off-the-cuff psychological
evaluations, advise you in legal, medical or personal matters, critique
your poetry, artwork or manuscript of your novel. Sorry, I refrain from
answering questions when "off duty." This is a period and condition
which begins at the moment the show ends and regularly lasts until the
beginning of the next week's performance. Step right up, no shoving,
room for all. Not for the fearful, tearful, fretful, regretful,
self-obsessed or feeble-minded, nor for fanatics, smack addicts,
charismatics, hysterics, epileptics, cataleptics, or chronic dyspeptics
(but we rarely turn away narcoleptics), young, impressionable children
or those who are no longer children but are too easily shocked. Some
restrictions apply. Easy to play. Be the first on your block to attend.
We provide an Oracle of Truth; you provide the consequences. Available
for weddings, funerals, corporate entertainment retreats, bar and bat
mitzvahs. Scientific, educational. Healthful, revivifying, nutritive.
Take cum grano salis. Does not (usually) stain clothing. No complicated
machinery to buy. Fun for the whole family (if, that is, the whole
family is of legal drinking age). No salesman will call. Tells the
future, casts spells, locates missing objects, heals, sickens,
communicates with the Spirit World, knows the Meaning of Life and the
secrets of human hearts in this world and the next. Bring your parents
and loved ones. Do not exceed recommended dosage. Acts involving
Chihuahuas need not apply. A co-production of the Church of the
SubGenius. Dobbs Approved. Ameliorates the Terror of the Gods. Brought
to you by Lucky Strike cigarettes (remember L.S.M.F.T.-- Lucky Strike
Means Fine Tobacco), and by the Miracle Liquor Fernet Branca, proud
sponsor of the Ask Dr. Hal show since 2001. From now until the heat
death of the universe, all questions become the property of Ask Dr.
Hal, Hal Robins, Chicken John, and Roboxmanhalchick Productions. We
retain the right to reject inappropriate questions (or questioners)
abruptly, firmly, forcefully, gleefully and at will. Although it is not
strictly necessary to pay to enjoy the performance, and payment will
not ensure your appreciation of the evening, all questions should
ideally be submitted in a regulation envelope containing a premium to
receive the fullest possible consideration. No refunds given or answers
guaranteed. You pay for it, you get it. No one religion or political
party endorsed. If you don't see what you want, ask. Time tested.
User-friendly. Preserved for Posterity. Written up in the weeklies.
Taped for TV. Simulcast on Pirate Radio, 87.9 FM. Quoted at parties.
Remembered in dreams. Astrally projected. Alive in Living Memory. The
subject of after-dinner anecdotes. We're not for everybody, but what
is? Don't let the terrorists win-- They Hate our Freedom to laugh our
heads off at shows like this, so this November vote them out of office.
Located in the fibrillating heart of the teeming Deep Mission,
fashionably below Cesar Chavez. Read all instructions before
participating. Drink responsibly, but heavily. Robust alcohol
consumption recommended for full enjoyment. Some of us can't drink at
all, remember. Boy, do we wish we could. And buy my book.

--
4th Stangian Orthodox MegaFisTemple Lodge of the Wrath of Dobbs Yeti,
Resurrected (Rev. Ivan Stang, prop.)
PRABOB

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