• Jihad Frenzy
  • Modemac
  • Eric the Fruitbat
  • Bobdiddley
  • Dad Townsend



    From: (Rev. Jihad Frenzy)
    Newsgroups: alt.slack
    Subject: Boston Devival: The Tragic Aftermath
    Date: Fri, 24 Apr 1998 02:57:52 -0400
    Organization: Church of The SubGenius - PanOrthodox Reform
    Message-ID: []

    The tragedy is that it's over!

    It's 2:45AM as I write this, having my fiath in "Bob" justified by going there with no confirmed ride back, and GETTING a ride back with Friday, Stang and Dad of Dad's New Slacks.

    Praise "Bob"! Praise Dad!

    The spirit of Dobbs was thisk and meaty in the Middle East, even Brother Cleve Duncan was SEIZED BY DOBBS and ranted as a MAN POSSESSED!

    Legume, Meyer, and Stang an unholy Trinity if ever there was one, mesmerized the eager acolytes with SANCTIFIED PREACHING. Having thrown a bucketful of Pils and a pumpkin to the crowd helped greatly.

    Friday Jones. What can I say but that I stand in AWE of her. Organized this Final Devival and SOLD GENUINE SUBGENIUS GOODS until her FINGERS BLED.

    Gawdamighty, I am weary. I am saited with Slack. My feet hurt, my head has swollen, and I have yet to put the squid to settle down in the vat.

    The Head was Launched, a possession by the Anti-"Bob" was foiled by the swift exorcism skills of Stang and other Preachers.

    By Dobbs, and I only had to pay $10.00 for it all.

    Bring on the saucers, I'm ready to go!

    Rev. Jihad Frenzy
    "Gadzooks!", quoth I, "But here's a saucy bawd!" 
    I, Libertine
    by Fredrick R. Ewing

    From: (Modemac)
    Newsgroups: alt.slack
    Subject: Boston Devival: TRIUMPHANT VICTORY for "Bob!"
    Date: Fri, 24 Apr 1998 07:22:34 GMT
    Organization: First Online Church of "Bob"
    Message-ID: [6hpeif$]

    April 23, 1998: a Thursday night. A work night (for people with regular jobs). One of the last episodes of "Seinfeld" on TV. A coastal storm driving sheets of rain and soaking anyone who dares to go outside.


    Of all the people who worked hard to put this event together, Irreverend Friday Jones was the one who stood to lose the most. She had agreed to hold the Devival at the Middle East in Cambridge on a Thursday, because the club wouldn't let us do it on a Saturday night. They didn't think anyone would show up -- after all, in the 1996 Devival only 89 people made it. Of course, the 1996 Devival had been at 6:00 pm on a Saturday evening, lasted only two hours, had been publicized here on alt.slack as starting at 9:00 PM, *and* there was snow falling outside, and yet 89 people *still* showed up...but that wasn't enough. So it had to be a Thursday

    Friday busted her ass putting this thing together. She posted flyers all over the Boston area, set up her remarkable Web page, faxed out press releases, and even paid the club fee out of her own pocket. If this thing was a dud, she would be in deep shit.

    And the weather forecast had said we would get steady rain today, though that rain wasn't supposed to start until "late tonight." But the rain started in the morning, and only got heavier throughout the day.

    As for me, I had somehow been conned into letting Dr. K'Taden Legume crash at my place. I picked him up at Logan Airport, and when I arrived at the terminal I saw something that I took as a good omen. There was a huge advertisement on the wall showing the Eye of the Illuminati Pyramid, and the slogan saying "Look Into My Eye: SALESGOD." Legume stepped off of the plain dressed in full clerical dress (after all, he's a preacher), and he grabbed me and forced me into a cab. Did you know the cost of a cab from Logan Airport to Cambridge these days is twenty-five bucks? What's more, only a few minutes after he had encountered my family, we were kicked out of the house and my dog was whimpering and walking funny. Hopefully she wasn't too traumatized, but Legume was in a relatively jovial mood after that. He was also amused at the fact that he was chastised by grocery store clerks when he tried to buy cigarettes in his clerical collar.

    After somehow surviving the initial encounter, Legume and I headed off to Friday Jones' lair, where we caught her and Reverend Ivan Stang in the middle of doing something I won't describe here. But other than that, they were in the final stages of preparing for the Devival, and Friday was practically a nervous wreck. But another good omen visited us at this time: A brand new SubGenius preacher's pulpit arrived via courier, courtesy of Reverend Strange. It was bulky, but it wasn't that difficult to get it to Cambridge.

    Anyways, we headed out through the driving rain, narrowly missing being hit by skidding cars several times. This didn't exactly calm us down, but when we arrived at the Middle East, Bill T. Miller and Vernon Tart were already in the final stages of setting up the sound equipment. The preparations proceeded smoothly, and all of the scheduled SubGenius preachers arrived on time: Pope David Meyer, D.K. Jones, Brother Cleve Duncan, and several friends from alt.slack, including a few I hadn't met in person before. (Hi Nully!) There was also a camera crew there who had flown in all the way from Belgium especially to film this Devival! It's a documentary that should show up in Europe some time in the next several months.

    Still, all of these preparations would have been for naught if we didn't bring in a big crowd. And the rain continued to fall, and we wondered would happen when the doors opened.

    But lo! We had not been prepared for "Bob." In his almighty luck and stupidity, "Bob" let the Slack flow freely this evening, in a way that has rarely if ever been seen before.

    The people came in, and they came in, and they came in. The place was packed, wall to wall, standing room only. Not only that, but THEY STAYED FOR THE ENTIRE DEVIVAL! The Doktor Band didn't drive them away, the hate-filled ranting didn't drive them away, and they ALL got Slack! For this was a night where EVERYONE felt the touch of "Bob," and the audience inspired the preachers to Rant as if this was the very last Devival! And indeed, IT WAS!

    Stang gave us a new Rant, and this time he didn't even begin it with his standard "SubGenius 101." It was all new material, though some of it I recognized as being improved from his same Ranting at the X-Day Drill last year. X-Day is coming, dear friends -- it's less than 75 days away!= And X-Day was on everyone's mind, as Stang urged us once again to stay alive until X-Day, and he pondered the stupid questions of those dumb-ass Bobbies who keep saying "Neener neener neener! There are no saucers coming, you guys are just so dumb, give me back my $30!" Ha! Those poor fools will be singing a different tune in just a couple of months...and I sure as hell won't have any pity for 'em.

    But even Stang's rant was not the highlight of the evening...nay, it was only the beginning of a succession of climaxes, orgasm after orgasm, as the energy surged and the crowd made noise and the Doktors belted out noise that assaulted the senses and OPENED THE WALLETS.

    The King Of Slack, Bill T. Miller, gave us a taste of what's on the Orgy of Slack CD with his famous rant, "X-Day's A Comin' And The Pinks Are Bummin!" The crowd ate it up. They screamed, they danced, they fucked, they let Bill know that he truly IS the King of Slack! Brother Cleve Duncan belted out a rockin' tune of "'Bob' Is My Load," *and* he got up with a microphone and ranted. D.K. Jones gave us still more Slackful music, and *he* ranted. All of the Doktors got their turns at the microphone, and the Rants were not just rants -- they were RANTS! They were EXCITING and INSIGHTFUL and SLACKFUL!

    But none of this could compare with the triumphant return of David Meyer, the Pope Of All New York, who gave us not one but TWO sermons. His first sermon, "I Serve The Conspiracy," had the audience eating out of the palm of his hand. They responded to his every whim...and he was so excited that a little later he rushed out and seized the mike and Ranted again! "In my seventeen years of preaching, this is the GREATEST SubGenius Devival I have ever seen! You have restored my faith in 'Bob,' my children!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. And he was RIGHT. For ALL of the ranters were in top form.

    Father K'Taden Legume warned us that X-Day is not going to be nice. We're not going to be able to sit back and let the Xists do our jobs for us, no matter what Stang may say about it: the Battle of Armageddon is coming, and WE, the card-carrying dues-paying SubGenii are going to have to FIGHT for our Slack! Are YOU ready? Have YOU sent your money to "Bob" yet? Legume did. I did. Several long-time friends of mine did, right here at the club tonight.

    And truly, the Ranting seethed with Slack! The Ranting cast an electric spell upon the audience, and it continued 'til well past midnight, and NO ONE was tired. (Except for me, who had been standing in one place for three hours straight working the video camera. But just my feet were tired -- my brain wasn't.) The Ranting was so strong that the final Doktor Jam Session had to be cancelled, because the audience had to take its turn ranting. And Rant they did: they gave us some fine Rants that matched the FIRE of Stang and Meyer, the HATE of Legume, and the LYRICS of Bill T. Miller and Vernon Tart! A couple of dumb-asses even ranted about how great they were because they hadn't sent their $30 to "Bob." "It's all lies! I'm going to fight my way onto the saucers and not pay any money!" Ha. When July 5, 1998 comes, it's gonna be JUST TOO BAD FOR THEM.

    But the audience ranters were so good that even they didn't drive the rest of the audience away! I had donated some items from my personal bulldada collection to give away as prizes, and they even enjoyed that. (When the L. Ron Hubbard writings were given away, the person accepting the award said "Now I have something new to wipe my ass with!")

    And as if all this wasn't enough, something else happened that was just as important: The sales table sold shit like no one had ever shit before and shit was a rare commodity. The books sold. The videos sold. The T-shirts sold. The stickers flew off the table. And Friday was so pressed to keep up that she had to press some unsuspecting Yeti into service with her. She kept busy, and she and her tits sold damn near EVERYTHING.

    Praise Be to FRIDAY JONES! If it wasn't for her perseverence, her risk-taking, her sheer GUTS to get together a Devival here in the Northeast where the SubGenii outside of alt.slack seem nonexistent, then we never would have been able to experience more Slack, more Church Air, more fun, and more GREAT PEOPLE than any time at all since the 1997 X-Day Drill.

    And this was the VERY LAST DEVIVAL. There is only one more event, and you had better be ready.



    Reverend Modemac (
    First Online Church of "Bob"
    (FINGER for a FREE SubGenius Pamphlet!)

    From: (Eric the Fruitbat)
    Newsgroups: alt.slack
    Subject: Re: Black Helicopters Over Cambridge
    Date: 24 Apr 1998 08:16:23 GMT
    Organization: Brown University
    Message-ID: [6hphon$]

    >See you there. Bring protection. Kevlar is recommended.

    Fuck THAT shit, you should have given some kind of warning about what kind of shit the cops would bring. Damn! I'm still peeling the burned skin off my hands and picking the toenails out of my forehead.

    So I should have been better prepared. It was my first devival -- and my last, by G'Brogfran's middle tit -- and I didn't really know what sorts of things were likely to happen. First of all the place was PACKED, and it was brass knuckle and machete work in the back rows just to get good standing room. And it started out all nice and friendly-like, Stang sermonizing gently to the pleasant strains of Slackbringer, the band, as if the entire BUILDING wasn't going to end up a smoking pile of ASH in just FOUR SHORT HOURS... But I'm getting ahead of myself. Because you see, Slackbasher started their anti-riffs and it started to get weird.

    The place seemed to be heating up and I was sweating like a stuck pig, in more ways than one, and suddenly it seemed as if things were happening ENTIRELY outside the range of my senses. Modemac (since it turned out to be Modemac, so THAT'S what you look like) was plugged into some kind of something, because he didn't hear or see a thing -- or he did see it all, and this is entirely normal for him and those .. those OTHERS, who had seemed like Stang and Legume and so forth but who could be SURE anymore?? It was hard to tell which way was which, except for the nice people in front who had come all ready for the show, with their folding chairs and little drink trays, all gussied up in the oddest shades of Pink, complaining about the noise and the speaking in tongues and looking at their programs when they started getting CONFUSED.

    Confused? This one dude was buying all the pins he could afford and scarfing them down as quickly as possible, and when he ran out of cash or just got swept back into the crowd or something he started GNAWING on one of the support columns. I drank some of the water that the familiar-looking man next to me offered, trusting his assurance that there was nothing funny in it, in the hopes that somehow I could make some sense of things -- but it only got worse, and when Pope Meyer of New York and wherever the hell ELSE he's Pope of these days got up it was like a human wave frothing over the seawall, Dobbs be PRAISED that man has a gift, and he gave the BADDEST-assed conceptual rant I've EVER heard from a man, woman, or ANYTHING, SlackBonger, the band, laying down a tight riff, and the crowd was out of control, kicking down lawn chairs and spilling iced tea everywhere, and the Pink-clad ones muttered about nobody sitting quietly and watching the show, and I'm thinking WATCH? That shit is filling your GLANDS with AEROSOLIZED 'FROP and you just want to WATCH? You got off at the WRONG DAMN T STOP, yeah, and the Pope was all over it, sweating it all out, and his sweat filled the room and it started to get slippery, and it started to heat up and heat up and heat up, they tried music but it just got worse, the whole place tipping and sliding, at this point BLOOD sloshing against the walls, and Legume is beating this dead cat, and SOMETHING comes out, like some horribly mutated form of Stang, did someone get PICTURES of that? Modemac, did your little contraption record images? Because the next minute it was Stang again, and I think we had Lectroids there, like a Dobbsdamned trip to the EIGHTH DIMENSION.

    By the end parts of the wiring had melted from the heat and the walls were starting to spontaneously combust. SlackBinger played on through, and the management had to call in for backup to clear the place out, cops EVERYWHERE, RIOT gear, TEAR gas, I heard they NAPALMED the place after I had left, but I didn't stick around to be sure, the ranting and demonic screaming just kept going on, I don't know how else the Con could have stopped it, shit, you want BLACK helicopters, I wish black was the ONLY color they came in, it would have been easier to deal with. The merchandise was being thrown around the room, the pumpkin had long ago disappeared in an orgy of gourd guts somewhere in the middle of the floor, and it was the best anyone could do to make out on the street with their heads still in their hands and their guts on the inside. I don't even know if Stang made it, it was a ZOO, it was unending NOISE, I'm STILL seeing everything from 30 degrees off in every direction...

    Or maybe that's just how it seems the first devival you go to. I guess I'll never know.

    (Monsignor) Murcielago Frugivoro

    Kind hearts will, in the long run, prevail on the net.

    From: (Bobdiddley)
    Newsgroups: alt.slack
    Subject: Boston Devival review
    Message-ID: []
    Date: 24 Apr 1998 21:36:49 GMT

    The Boston Devival was the greatest by far which I have ever attended! Not surprising, since it was my first. The luck plane was severely sloped, for me to travel from Western Quebec to be at the Middle East.

    The ten-hour flight in a hijacked lil grey saucer was interrupted onl= y by a brief stop at the border. I've entered the US previously at Detroit and Watertown; I wasn't prepared for my close encounter at the Vermont crossing. I thought for a moment I had gotten turned around; the US border guard was acting like a Canuck! Why didn't someone tell me they'd just wave me through? I mean, I didn't even get to show any birth surfaticket, show off my collection of newly-printed currency, or get out my Lilac cue cards of top ten reasons I should be allowed into this country, and what I intended to do here. I might have brought along some "passengers=94, such= as a supply of 'Fropstitute, or the severed head of former prime minister Brian Mulroney. (In Quebec, we're not big on golf; we go in more for extreme curling, wherein the head is held by the hair, and slid along the ice, or down a hallway, etc. Also we don't use FAKE PLASTIC HEADS!)

    What a thrill to mix air (although I must say, there was far too much tobacco smoke, and nary an offered whiff of anything else) with some of my ShorDurPerSavs, add facial image data to some alt.slack correspondents, but mostly to hear some authentic ranting, simply not available where I live.

    While Rev. Ivan Stang is a much better writer than a ranter, in his role as get-it-started, keep-it-going, wind-it-upper, he was, well perfect is not exactly a SubGenius mode; let's just say he was very good at it.

    I was most curious about Dr. Legume. His dire warnings and Holocaustal hatred are new and troubling to me. He didn't diappoint! He is a mighty scary warrior, and I'm sure as hell glad he is a SubGenius!

    Brother Cleve Duncan Donuts did an unexpected turn as a godspell ranter, and really set the tone for the evening to follow. Right on, Bro!

    What I was not, could not be prepared for, was the triumphal exhbition by what HAS to be the best preacher on this planet (ok, I've not yet witnessed the Legendary St. Janor) the Rev. Dr. Dr. Mr. M.D., David Meyer, Pope of All New York. He tore the house down, ripped it to shreds, put it back together, and had us begging for him to do it again! AND HE DID! His preaching alone made the $10 admission fee seem like a paltry downpayment.

    Of course, this all would not have been possible without the superhuman (duh!) positively SubGenius Slack-fall courage of the IrRev. Friday Jones. She bet her own ass that it would happen, and by "Bob" and Connie, it did!

    Oh yeah, one reason I really wanted to attend this devival was to get some first-hand insight into this Ivangelical/Holocaustal rift. My mind is now made up, and I am Ivangelical! Legume rules with an iron fist, but Stang leads with a wooden pecker.

    Your cyber-cruising correspondent,

    3-D Bob Diddley
    Living it up, in the smouldering debris of Pinknocracy

    From: (Ragin' Pope Angus)
    Newsgroups: alt.slack
    Subject: Re: Boston Devival review
    Date: Sat, 25 Apr 1998 02:02:47 -0500
    Organization: Our Lady of the Apocolypse
    Message-ID: []

    In article <>, says...
    > Oh yeah, one reason I really wanted to attend this devival was to get some
    >first-hand insight into this Ivangelical/Holocaustal rift. My mind is now made
    >up, and I am Ivangelical! Legume rules with an iron fist, but Stang leads with
    >a wooden pecker.

    {kla-chik} Another round in the chamber for an Ivangelical on X-Day.

    Bro. Diddley, are you prepared to offer yourself as a human body shield to absorb the pain and brutality that first volley offers. If your do, you will see a direct frontal assault by the Holocaustals, charging down on YOU, while Stang fires up HIS escape saucer. What will his reaction be when you turn to him, so see what support and cover fire he is offering you?

    What will be going THROUGH your mind as you turn back around as the first wave of Holocaustals hit you, the first line of defense?

    I'll give you a sneak preview.

    Like that bug on your windshield, the last thing that goes through your mind will be your ass as a Holocaustal Louisville Slugger baseball bat smacks your body and hobnail boots crush the life from you.

    And you're willing to do this for a Yeti with a wooden pecker???

    Glad you enjoyed the show.

    Ragin' Pope Angus, XXIII
    Our Lady of the Blessed Apocolypse
    Research Institute of SexHurt

    The Aftermath...

    From: (Michael Townsend)
    Newsgroups: alt.slack
    Subject: Dad Safely Transports Bleeding Head In Aftermath of Stellar Boston Devival!
    Date: Fri, 24 Apr 1998 17:14:50 -0400
    Organization: Dad's New Slacks
    Message-ID: []

    You knew it was inevitable that I'd be moved to report on my experience (had a great time!) at last night's Final Devival and Armageddon Party in Boston. I was tempted to bait (but NOT troll) our braggadocious friends in the northwest with the news that this event blew their pitiful efforts to smithereens, but, but...I was advised against it. I will say, however, if that old Pop Truwe had witnessed this Supercollossal Superstars of Slack non-stop review, he would have undoubtedly been somewhat more impressed. Not that I think Sacto didn't sound like a cool show, but cmon, the most famous Subgenius there was Matthew A. Carey fer chrissakes!

    Ok, enough insults, let me tell you about the devival. Last things first - when the show was over and a few of us were hanging around during the load-out, I was talking to Rev. Stang and mentioned that my pal who was gonna come down from Portland with me crapped out at the last minute (he always does), and Stang responds, "oh you have a CAR? You wouldn't want to give Friday and me and the remainder of the unsold swag a ride back to Friday's house..."

    Well, you probably wouldn't have turned him down either. So we get to my wife's little Chevy parked in the $3 garage Friday miraculously found two blocks from the club, load up the swag suitcases and a few other items (including the ONE TRUE BLEEDING HEAD OF ARNOLD PALMER), and all of a sudden there's this OTHER GUY standing there begging for a ride to Matta... Matta... someplace right outside the city. Well Stang knew him from way back and he DID help set up, so what the fuck. Dad's Taxi Service was in business.

    Turns out this guy lived in the exact opposite direction from where Friday lives, and took us through this slightly complicated route to get there, then says when we drop him off, "just go up here and turn right, then turn right again at the big intersection and then just head back to Cambridge the same way we came." Fuck. At least he gave me a good tip, though - 5 bucks.

    So, since Friday doesn't drive and thus doesn't know her way around the neighborhoods, we proceeded to get lost in the asshole-end of outer Boston. Can you picture it? Me, Dad, the hopelessly lost chauffeur at the wheel while Ivan Stang and his faithful organizer/promoter/sacred swag saleslady are crammed in the back seat with a suitcase of leftover t-shirts and a bag stuffed full of cash representing the take from THE MOST SUCCESSFUL DEVIVAL, EVER.

    Frankly, I didn't expect them to be so, um, NORMAL back there. Maybe I wuz hoping to hear some of the moans and squidly squirts you usually hear coming out of Bill T. Miller's Living Keyboard of Slack...but I guess they were both pretty shagged out after the show, huh. Instead we got to spend some low-key, ah, "quality time" - we swapped medical histories, talked about the success of the devival and ESO on Hour of Slack and Billy West and Mac OS8 and our kids and a few other small-talk topics. After about 15 extra minutes of driving around in circles through slummy, empty neighborhoods, eventually we found our way back to Waltham where Friday lives - but not before stopping at Dunkin Donuts. Here's a scoop you'll enjoy: Stang ate an aig 'n sausage croissant sandwich! Can you believe it?

    My sleepy passengers had mentioned several times that they were looking forward to chowing down on some roast beef sandwiches (!) and hitting the sack when they got home, but when we got there, Ed Strange's car was parked out front. NOW I heard the groans coming from the back seat. Turns out that Strange and his pulchitrudinous girlfriend and Legume and some others also got lost in Boston trying to find their hotel, so decided to come back to Friday's instead with the intention of crashing there. They were all huddled in the kitchen, Legume telling tales of sleeping on a sharp rock for three days and such. Should I mention the "decor" of Friday's apartment? Er, maybe not. Anyway, I just took a pee, and took my leave - actually Friday pretty much rushed me out the door. But maybe she was just showing concern for me getting back to Portland safely - it was by then 4am and I had a 2 hr drive ahead of me in the rain.

    At least it wasn't pouring like on the way down. Like I said, I ended up coming on my own - the wife thought I was crazee, but I really felt compelled to make it to this show. BECAUSE I'M A DUMBASS, ok? Got there 20 minutes late and the place was PACKED. Impossible to see much, impossible to move. Stang had just come on for his first big sermon, looking somewhat like the Prophet Jeremiah with his scraggly hairiness and cheap robe and slick stand-up delivery. I immediately spotted Nully, had no idea what she looked like but just had an esp thing - but having just arrived myself, I didn't feel like going up to some complete stranger and saying "uh, are you, uh, Nully Fy...Fie...whatever that name is..." So instead I pushed my way to the other side of the room, where the Sacred Sales Table was. Ended up over on the right side of the stage which was perfect because a) it was out of the throng, allowing me to keep my vital jaded perspective on the proceedings; b) I had a clear close-up shot of all the performers, and took numerous photos accordingly; and c) I got to interact with some of the ones who came and went from the stage on that end.

    So what can I tell you about the show itself? Ok, I'd say it was the ultimate merger of old-time 80s devival energy with 90s devival dynamics. Sure, the west coast had Nenslo and Sterno and P-Lil and "Negativland" (urp), but this was BETTER. Among the old timers, Pope David Meyer upstaged everybody and lived up to his rep as "greatest subgenius preacher of all time." I especially got a charge out of the part where he explained how his advertising job made him the ultimate tool of the Conspiracy - ahahahahha. The amazing Cleve Duncan lent topnotch musical support to most of the preachers, and also put in a surprise performance doing some classic early 80s rants - to perfection. I missed DK Jones' short solo set cause I arrived late, but I heard him making noise with The Slackbangers - and enjoyed talking with him for a while about Huge Voodoo and mutual musical acquaintences we have from our NJ days.

    Legume was, as I always thought, a total huggy teddy bear. Which made Stang's introduction of him as "the world's meanest subgenius" or whatever he said pretty damn funny - hell, Legume didn't really seem to have a mean bone in his body, at least none that was visible under all that, ah, meat. The crowd loved him though - started slow with a long, boring story about a CAT, but eventually built up quite a strong foaming at the mouth. After his set he gave me a Dad's New Slacks ID on my microdeck - I guess I was sorta hoping he would give me some shit, too, but no such luck.

    I introduced myself to Friday early on, but I can't say she seemed too thrilled to meet me. Well maybe she was just too busy selling shit, which she did the ENTIRE night. But I think maybe she was a little peeved that I took a photo of her undulating when King of Slack BTM kicked in to his number one smash subgenius hit, "X-Day's A-Comin'" - hey sorry, but it just looked (and sounded) so GOOD. Anyway, I'm an unabashed Bill Miller fan, so you won't be surprised if I tell you that all his stuff RAWKED - solo, with DK Jones and Brother Cleve as the Slackbangers, doing the demonic duet "You Rang" w/Stang, all of it.

    Stang did all the classic devival bits - the ShortDurMarriage, the bucket of pils, the launching of the Bleeding Head of Arnold Palmer...and the audience response to all that shit was just HUGE. He also did the WAR ON GOD rant of course - in fact, didn't he do it twice? But hey, the second time had the Frank Marino music. Nevertheless, even with Pope Meyer so moved by the spirit of "Bob" that he did a second unplanned sermon, the Slack All-Stars ran out of material kind of early, so they opened up the stage for an amateur "rant-off" which was pretty ok. I think I liked the first guy ranting about "the SALTINESS" the best. Nully got up and ranted about Pinks. Eventually BTM pushed me up on the stage to say something, so I told the audience they were all dumbasses (and you ARE) if they didn't buy a copy of "the soundtrack to the entire Subgenius experience," Bill's ORGY OF SLACK cd. Actually I just got up there in hopes that somebody from the internet would recognize me and give me a dollar or something. Sure enough, Nully came right over afterward and gave me a *KISS* in lieu of a dollar in exchange for the truth about my diagnosis. Big deal, right?

    I'm sure there are many other exciting details I could give you about the devival, but I'm tired of writing. Since I didn't get home until 6am, I took the day off, slept til 1, and now, you guessed it, I'm slacking off for the rest of the day. Radio tonight though!

    See ya,

    dad's new crax	po box 4722 portland me 04112-4722
    remove "11 11" for email n



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