Back to Norbal (Post-Devival)

From: "Rev. Ivan Stang" <stang@subgeniusNOSPUM.com>
Date: Wed, May 26, 2004

I have to get 20 copies of brand new Hour of Slack into the mail by
this afternoon. After producing it. Time for a Lymph Node Institute
rerun, methinks. The Devival was Saturday, and I'm just now getting my
lab reassembled. I made so many monsters in it that it'll be weeks
before all the left-over necrotic tissue is hosed out of my poor
fragmented hard drives. Plus we had a whole houseful of Ygors and
werewolves rotating in and out all weekend.

Yesterday I fixed my befucked, relatively new keyboard by replacing it
with my OLD keyboard. I had kept it because I had a feeling that soon
enough, my old one would become again better than my new one.

If only I could replace my BACK with a new, already-exercised one. It's
taking much longer to be brought back to normal than, say, my sleep
patterns.

The devival, while it earned the numerous performers no more than gas
money, at least paid off that much. The real recompense was in the
results of the PANIC that an upcoming show brings on -- panic about the
horrid condition of one's house before guests arrive, and panic over
the need for new and improved sights and sounds for the show itself.

And those results are GLOWING with POSSIBLY HARMFUL UNKNOWN RADIATIONS!
The Slackermansion is now MIRACULOUSLY CLEAN AND LIVEABLE. Until Friday
night, it was crammed to the rafters with stuff moved out of the Queen
Mom's home when she put it on sale last summer -- Princess Wei took
three days off work and attacked it with her super Space Princess
powers. I didn't help at all. I was wrapped around ever-overheating
video editing gear, striving to get ONE SHOWABLE COPY out, of the hour
and a half of all-new animation that was generated using this show as
an excuse -- and to visually embroider all the cool songs on the
BobSongs 6 album.

So now, very much as a direct result of telling the Beachland we'd do
another devival on May 22, we have a NEW HOUSE and a NEW VIDEO
COLLECTION to sell, to help PAY for the house. (The ARISE video is
what's been paying for the house lately, so my intention is to keep
remaking ARISE, so to speak.)

Also generated entirely as a result of this otherwise not especially
lucrative event were COMPLETELY NEW and MIRACULOUSLY WELL RECORDED
RANTS by me, Nickie Deathchick, and Rev. Carter LeBlanc. Not to mention
the folks in the amateur rantathon at the end, such as St. Bucky, who
managed to convince THREE NON-PLANT SubGENII to give up their perfectly
good wrist-watches for Time Control smashing with a hammer.

I had been reading Rev. John Shirley's new book about the guru
Gurdjieff, and by golly if it didn't cause me to crystalize some
thoughts about the process of thinking about one's own brain (and how
easy it is for one's ego to HORNSWOGGLE one's brain just by
sweet-talking it). Also, I had a lot of new Onanisms to use for the
first time, thanks to Onan. Rev. Nickie's Spanking Ritual was greatly
informed by the armed forces' recent scandalous Torturing Rituals. Rev.
Carter LeBlanc, as I expected he might, had a KILLER all-new rant
crammed with all-new concepts and all-new one-liners and
one-paragraphers. I can die now, knowing there' a SubGenius preacher
who gives a shit to something like the degree to which I shit-give.

The Amino Acids were no surprise; they ALWAYS galvanize even the
galvanized walls of whatever venue they're playing in. Their buddies in
the band SERRATED EDGE turned in a SURPRISE performance: 5 Dead Milkmen
covers in about 8 minutes. I am not familiar with The Dead Milkmen, yet
the music seemed so familiar that I was driven to work the live
Videodelic screen projections like crazy for those guys.

But what MOST people said to me after the show, the one thing I heard
most, was:

"THANKS FOR BRINGING MAN TO CLEVELAND!"

All are in agreement, MAN is a superstar. NEVER has there been an act
that SO WELL said "FUCK YOU" to the Pinks, especially the Pinks of the
music industry, so it's surely only a matter of MINUTES now before the
Conspiracy starts marketing him like the greatest thing since Eminem.
He bites the hand that feeds him so viciously and deeply that those
pussy-ass Pinks are LAPPING IT UP. I am considerably PROUD that we were
able to have him play at TWO devivals already before he's fully
"discovered" and exploited.

Seriously, I will not be surprised when 5 years from now I get on an
elevator in a mall and hear a Muzak version of "Fuck the Team" oozing
out over the speakers. Well, WE EXPLOITED HIM FIRST!

Actually I must thank The Amino Acids for turning us on to Man, and I
must thank Rev. Toth Wilder for turning me onto The Amino Acids in the
first place.

But here's who I REALLY must thank the MOST for everything about this
show:

PRINCESS WEI "R." DOE.

I was going through the video and audio footage yesterday and it sunk
in that, after singing with Lonesome Cowboy Dave (did I mention he
threw a band together THAT DAY??), after hostessing and feeding a whole
houseful of people, after giving me a haircut and holding my hand while
I freaked out over all the production minutia, she had shot hand-held
with the ACE dv camera pretty much EVERYTHING -- half of Nickie, all of
Serrated Edge, all of MAN, all of Carter, much of The Amino Acids, and
all the rantathon. She turned down a DOZEN offers to "party backstage"
in order to videotape. And she spelled Pater Nostril at the swag table.

And there's another person who knocked himself out JUST FOR SLACK --
Pater Nostril. He drove in from his job at Brushwood and again SAVED MY
ASS by completely handling the swag table, and DECORATNG THE STAGE. My
back was shot and I was of little use in doing things like going up
ladders to hang the Full Metal Dobbshead by Blackout or the Giant Vinyl
Dobbshead by Jesus. Pater Nostril (with Wei and our pal Capt. Horatio
Shroomberry, aka Sound Man from X-Day) did all the ladder and duct tape
work that makes the Beachland stage look temporarily like a Temple of
Baal-Bob. And the projector-and-doohickies-hauling.

I must thank Dr. PissOff for ditching Banjo Bob at our house. I can
honestly say it was a gas to finally be able to get to know Banjo Bob
when it isn't the End of the World. Usually I only see this saintly
prophet of spazzitude when I'm under the gun (X-Day Drills) and when
he's releasing all his brain cells to fly free (X-Day Drills). He
completely lived down from his reputation and was the ideal houseguest.
I was kinda sorry to see him go. Although when everybody finally WAS
gone, I slept for like 13 hours straight.

Wei and I have been replenishing our Lazy-Style Slack by catching up to
the movies that were posted to Monter in the last couple of weeks,
which my machine was too busy rendering to download.

Last night (thanks to Nu-Monet's post) Princess Wei got to see the
amazing Terry Southern-penned classic, "THE MAGIC CHRISTIAN," a 1970
film with Peter Sellers and Ringo Starr, which she had never seen, even
though she's one who can most FULLY appreciate it. Any young punk who
hads never seen it, or has seen it only on TV (with the climactic
shit-bath of Pinks deleted), MUST NOW GO FIND AND VIEW THIS SUBGENIUS
CLASSIC.

The story, if you're unfamiliar with it: an incredibly rich
proto-SubGenius (Sir Guy Grand, played by Sellers) uses his wealth to
completely and utterly blow the minds of the humans around him. His
little pranks run from paying a hot dog vendor way too much for a
hot-dog, to building an ocean liner designed to terrorize the social
climbers who book passage. Bit parts include a veritable who's who of
British comedians as well as icons like Raquel Welch. Yul Bryner in
drag sings a torch song to Roman Polanski.

That movie is still on alt.binaries.monter-movies, at least the
Giganews version of that ng has it, and it also has all the short
animated videos that I've finished THAT HAVE THE END-CREDITS ON THEM. I
have to finish the end credits on 10 more shorts before I can post
them. I also have to finish an Hour of Slack by this afternoon, as I
said, so I imagine it'll be an Hour of Lymph Node Institute's Slack, in
this case a hilarious special on Creationism.

That would be HoS 944. I guess 945 will have the Devival audio. Which
was NOT fucked up incidentally. I thought it was, during the show.
Seems to have all gone down fine off the board onto a VHS tape (audio
only) plus we have the sound off the ACE dv camera, which is good
enough in a pinch.

The Amino Acids are mixing a new album this week!

Busy, busy, busy little SugDeemies everywhere.

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

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