I had NO IDEA that the detergent aisle at the supermarket smelled so TOXIC!
I've been pretty much "GONE" in every sense of the word since last Saturday, when I smoked the last Merit UltraLight in the house and slapped on a 21 mg Nicoderm patch. The patches help, but 21 mg is still a big step down from 3 packs a day, and I have not even TRIED to work since then. There are probably about 100 email letters stacked up around here, not to mention all the other SubJobs I blew off. But I know ya'll will forgive me for disappearing. Believe me, it was necessary.
But, yesterday I put together a new radio show, and my 3D graphics how-to books are starting to make sense again, my vision is returning, and I'm no longer twitching and screaming every 15 minutes. I'll probably even get on the SubIRC chat-devival tonight, upload to a.b.s. some of the Bryce art I did as therapy, start returning phone calls, and maybe even upload and link in all the incredible new stuff for SubSITE that's been stacking up.
It was as if I had myself hospitalized all week. In some ways it was great. For one thing, nicotine withdrawal -- if tempered with the patches -- is not unlike tripping on hallucinogens, albeit real CONTAMINATED ones. And I probably needed the break from the routine. Smoking isn't the only habit I was breaking. Lately I've been sinking back into my old bad ways, staying up all night in work-fits, being nasty to everybody during the day, blowing off any exercise, and letting myself fall into depression over little things like failure and loss. FUCK THAT SHIT! As Puzzling Evidence once said, "Let's 'frop up so we'll quit hating ourselves and get back to hating the Conspiracy."
My biggest regret is that I can't drink as much coffee, because it makes me want to smoke a LOT worse. I miss the 5 pots a day. I miss the tar, the additives.
Most of the week I wasn't capable of doing much besides pacing, taking the guard beasts for long walks, and reading sci fi. I devoured the entire Christopher Hinz trilogy about the Paratwa (LEIGE KILLER is the first book) -- that was a gas. Cheesy sci fi has been a major source of Slack for me lately, after ignoring it for history and other nonfiction for several years. The cheesier the better. I even read a Robert Heinlein book.
Most AMAZING sci fi book I've read all year, however, is John Shirley's SILICON EMBRACE. I may be biased because it has some SubGenius characters, but actually it's all over the map in terms of UFO mythology. And it's SERIOUS, too. Call the library and see if they have it... it's hardcover only, dang it.
I also started going to movies again, and even rented one, although I have an aversion to TV (looks too much like a computer screen).
DON'T MISS the film SYNTHETIC PLEASURES, which is playing city by city in "art" theaters. It's an absolutely astounding documentary, expertly edited, and CRAMMED with some of the most advanced computer animation I've ever seen... stuff I'm familiar with from THE MIND'S EYE video series, but on the big screen it's JAW-DROPPING. The film is about all things "virtual" -- the Net, computer games, inddor environments like the ocean-in-a-mall in Japan, body alteration, drugs, etc. etc. -- all that Mondo 2000 trendy bullshit, but presented with a refreshing lack of worship, and visually rivetting. It made me feel a lot less like a crazy man for having been completely seduced by computers in late 94. It's not narrated exactly, but features the offscreen commentary of about 15 "pundits" -- A THIRD OF WHOM I'VE HUNG OUT WITH! Made me feel like I must be doing something right.
Mainly though, the barrage of animated computer generated surrealism is just about the most staggering collection of moving graphic art I've seen since the claymation in Zappa's BABY SNAKES.
Saw MARS ATTACKS last night. Creamed. Thought it delightful from beginning to end. Guffawed out loud, watching the giant "Transformer" robot chasing the pick-up down the road, and the newscaster with her head sewn onto her yapping little dog's body and vice versa. Somebody told me that Tim Burton had originally wanted to do the Martians in stop motion, Harryhausen-style, but that was too expensive, so it's all computer animation. BUT THEY DELIBERATELY DEGRADED THE MOTION to make it look more JERKY and UNREAL, like stop motion. Don't that beat all.
I was relieved to see that the Pierce Brosnan character who LOOKS like "Bob" in the trailers is obviously not patterned after Dobbs in any other way.
The special effects are much better than those in INDEPENDENCE DAY, and the film is infinitely more intelligently written. The title sequence alone... AIEEEEE. (Now when we do OUR X-Day movie, we'll have to have 10,000 saucers, all bigger than the Death Star and ALL DIFFERENT!) I didn't think about cigarets the WHOLE TIME.
THE NUTTY PROFESSOR, sucks.
I'm still feeling clammy and spaced and senselessly angry occasionally, but feel confident about my chances this time. In 94 I quit smoking for 2 or 3 months but then Simon & Schuster called up and said, "Either you finish the last half of Revelation X in 2 weeks, or you owe us $20,000," and I flew to SF so the illness-crippled, chain-smoking Vreedeez and I could lay out the last 7 chapters, a chapter a day. I HAD to smoke, or die. Now I have to quit, or die. But I got too much Hatin' left in me to GIVE IN to my NATURAL INCLINATION AS A SUBGENIUS in a PINK WORLD to KILL MYSELF SLOWLY.
Jesus is paranoid about all this, though. First I quit smoking. Then I started being nice to my wife. The office doesn't look like a foggy London street movie set anymore. I even changed the answer machine, and started LEAVING THE HOUSE. He seems to seriously be worried that this is the worst Sign of the End Times YET. "For the Scribe shall even not Smoke, and it shall be as a sign that the Time is Nigh for the Arisal." It may also irk Him that my clean and slobber new lifestyle insures that it'll be awhile longer before he can finish taking over the Church.
I could always relapse and just eat the humiliation. OR my luck will be like Bill Hicks', after all these years it'll be something ELSE that kills me, not lung cancer at all. GOD that would be a bitch. But it's one of those Involuntary Slack things -- you come to another crossroad where you HAVE to drastically undergo a total mutation, or else ROT like a HUMAN, and you can't put off the decision any longer. I've tended to suddenly shift lifestyles every 5 years or so anyway. It's like Repenting and Quitting your Job. It's always scary as hell for awhile, but at least while it's happening, you KNOW FOR SURE that you HAVEN'T "GROWN UP." PRAISE fuckin' "Bob."
Here's what you can do to help me, your fellow SubGenius. DON'T EMAIL ME with your BEST WISHES!!!! (Divert your energies into BUYING SUBGENIUS STUFF through JESUS! -- 1-888-669-2323, we take credit cards) I'm TOTALLY SWAMPED in SHEER CREATIVITY. There are about 2 dozen SubGenius artists and programmers out there (including me) who all happen to be in TECHNODOBBSIAN BULLDADA FITs right now, it's an incredible fucking renaissance of SubGenius productivity, totally computer driven, but it's coming in much faster than I can even LABEL it. I'm going through 2 Zips a week already just to STORE this stuff, much less display it in html so it's manageable, much less use it RIGHT. And Dr. Dynosoar has been lassoing and corralling the alt.slack text doggies so that's built up too.
Meanwhile Jesus and I are dealing with about 5 brand new SubGenius project coproductions with others, from new gimmick product like fridge magnets up to role playing trading card games and CD ROM weirdness, which requires a lot of attention. Hopefully this stuff will all congeal in some PAYING GIGS, and outlets whereby all this great artwork and so forth can be exposed through other media besides SubSITE. Like in STORES, for SALE.
We finally got the old Interim FIST mailed to the Californicates. Still have the foreigners to go. Already printed the NEXT issue, there are 4,000 of 'em in the Foundation warehouse/garage. Hopefully we'll be able to mail the first HALF of those before xmas.
Would you believe, just to be contrary, someone else and I went out this morning and bought a 9 foot Xmas tree. Jesus is REALLY gonna be disgusted when He sees that. He HATES Christmas. You can imagine. Not as much as Easter, though.
I guess I can't put off that email any longer. Just looking at what's in the new ATTACHMENTS will take an hour... so here goes...
+++++++++
HOS 558 Smoking and Xmas/New Years
Joe Auffricht/Jimi Hendrix intro/Title/Wellman & G'Broagfran on "relationships with SubGeniuses, tape recorders", KPFA
"You can lead 'em to the Promised Land, but don't expect that to mean they're gonna keep their promises to you." -- J.R. "Bob" Dobbs, c. 1938, despairing in his cups at the Hop Frog Tavern, Wichita, Kansas, following a fight with his girlfriend. 10 minutes later, while heading for the bathrooms to puke, he met Connie Marsh for the first time.
Mondo Cane clips on strange Love customs... RING OF FIRE, Johnny Cash clip... Thought Alchemy depresso-clip... Wellman "Happyland" -- old Stang MB "Devil in the Supermarket" clip
Trad. Song: "The Worms Crawl In, the Worms Crawl Out"
STANG: Dear Friends, I think I'd be a serial killer without ya'll to UNLOAD on sometimes. I really value these moments on the airwaves, being able to bitch and gripe about every little thing. I truly appreciate the support. I don't know what I'd do without you.
(THE WIND CRIES MARY sans vocals in bg)
1996 was a wonderful year, the best one since I don't know when.... Life was great up until last weekend, when it turned into a LIVING NIGHTMARE.
To save it, I had to give up the thing I loved the most in all the world. Had to quit thinking about her. Had to banish her from my mind. Had to pretend I didn't care at all while I watched her let other guys use her. And I needed her so bad. Needed her so bad that I had to hate her, in order to free myself from her, because she was just hurting me more, and more, and more, and I couldn't stop coming BACK for more punishment. It was an ADDICTION, I guess you could say. Bob Dole might not agree with me, but I really think that's what it was. And I ain't over her yet, nosir, not by a long shot. Even now I can see her as if she were floating in front of my face, just like smoke, and I want to inhale her SO SO BAD but I know I must JUST SAY NO. There are some things that I guess that phrase DOES apply to. I know it's something I have to do, I know I'll be healthier for it in the long run, if the effort doesn't kill me, but... it JUST HURTS SO BAD.
Yes, friends, you guessed it -- Queen Tobacco broke my heart. Lady Tabacky, Sister Nicotine, Mizz Conspiracy herself. Tore my heart in two, just as she's done to so many countless millions of other fools before me. This ain't no New Years Resolution, this was a SOUL SEARING BATTLE. It has been for 25 years, but this was D-Day. I was -- again -- faced with 2 divergent paths -- LIFE, or DEATH. Life without her will be hard, but life with her will be... shorter. She's so sweet, so fine... she's the finest. But sooner or later she sucks you dry. The Slack is gone and black gunk and scar tissue has taken its place. And you feel... dumber than human.
(switch to Drs. for "Bob" "Can't Hide" instrumental)
But, last Saturday, I decided, since everything else in the world was going totally to hell, and life was an endless struggle, and only the fittest AND MEANEST survive, HELL, WHY NOT??!? NO TIME LIKE THE PRESENT!! DUMP HER BEFORE SHE UH FINISHES DUMPING ME!! DRAW ON MY HIDDEN RESERVES OF SELF RESPECT, STRENGTH OF CHARACTER, and SHEER GIANT EGO-DRIVEN GUT BLOWOUT SUBGENIUS WILL!! In fact, if I'm breaking ONE bad habit, might as well BREAK 'EM ALL!!! WHERE'S A CHAIR? I'LL SMASH IT!!! SITTING DOWN IS A HABIT!!! WHERE'S A CLOCK? Oh I already smashed all those last year when this happened. WHERE'S A PATHETIC BLITHERING HUMAN?? I'LL GUT IT!!! Suffering a Human to live is a nasty habit. Where's the CONSPIRACY?!?!? LEMME AT 'EM!!! I mean, JUST SAY NO!!! GOD DAMN IT!!! How many of you can make THAT new year's resolution and keep it, huh? Resolve that you're gonna break the Conspiracy habit this year. JUST TRY IT!!!
And by Gobbs, if you do JUST TRY IT, why, maybe this time you'll actually DO it.
(Thought Alchemy depresso-clips)
(Hendrix "Jam 292" instr.)
Sure... maybe you FAILED UTTERLY the last 500 tries. Hey, I got 150 rejection slips for the Book of the SubGenius, can you imagine that. Maybe your EVERY PREVIOUS ATTEMPT to follow your dream climaxed with you DREAMING about the day you'd start planning to pursue your dream. Well maybe you oughta try GETTING OFF YOUR ASS ONE MORE TIME!!! Of course there's something to be said for GIVING UP. As that great old forgotten wino said in the temple, "If I cain't whup it, I'll go down." And that's exactly what I had to do. QUIT. But whatever it is, you DO have to "DO" it, even if NOT doing something is what you have to do. Slack is not the same as sloth and indolence... not necessarily, anyway. I personally have always found the most Slack in ACTION. When I am IN THE ZONE, the PURE ACT of THE ACTION, the pure DO of the DOING, with total concentration, flying with the equipment and the words effortlessly, not even thinking, just... DOING, those are MY moments of true Slack. When one is most ALIVE.
But I was letting that which made me ALIVE, KILL ME!!! I was getting too uptight. I was pushing too hard. I was WORKING TOO HARD for SLACK, NOT gliding, but FORCING... and when you try to FORCE it, Slack hardens, becomes a wall, like cornstarch in liquid suspensions hardens like rock if you HIT it but is like water if you CARESS it. The most devilish trick is finding the delicate balance between too much and not enough.
Oh by the way, did you know we recently found the bottom half of that old Memo from "Bob"? You know, the top half said, "TOO MUCH IS ALWAYS BETTER THAN NOT ENOUGH." The bottom parts says, "BUT IT'S ALMOST AS BAD."
You gotta figure out the balance. But you can't learn that unless you try and try again. Screw up and then ADMIT you did, and do it better the next time.
Easy for me to say, since right now, I'd rather be killing optimists. In fact I would very much like to go out and KILL, KILL, KILL!!! TO CRUSH AND DESTROY ALL IN MY PATH!!! Hell it's better than just sitting here DREAMING about it! I'll break EVERY HABIT, and EVERY LAW TOO!!! I'll go through a FIFTEENTH TOTAL LIFESTYLE REBUILD before I let the forces of ENTROPY, DEVOUR ANY MORE OF MY SLACK!!! THAT'S my NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTION!! YES!!! THAT'S MY CHRISTMAS PRESENT TO MYSELF!!! I'm good enough, I'm SMART ENOUGH, and GOSH DARN IT, PEOPLE LIKE ME!!!!
THE RAMONES: "STRENGTH TO ENDURE"
ZOOGZ RIFT, "In the Ultimate Scheme of Things")
So, So I have resolved to turn from the quick-fix comforts of my old mistress, the Demon Weed from Hell, cigarets, and devote myself solely to that true and faithful wife, FROP. NO MORE will the Soul Eaters get my 20% interest. DESPITE the sheer mind-obliterating, total relentless agony of giving up HER, I shall... deal with it. I'm no superman; I must sate my physical desires with a plastic lover.... a little square patch slapped onto my skin daily, 21 miligrams, next month 14 milligrams, then 6, and by then you forget. UNTIL you're SURE you got it licked, and THE DEMONS LEAP OUT OF HIDING AND HIT YOU WITH THEIR BIG GUNS!! But this time I know I will defeat them. The patches REALLY help. $5 a patch, and FUNNY HOW THE INSURANCE COMPANIES WON'T PAY FOR CANCER PREVENTION.
If they made a Frop Patch, I'd replace CLOTHING with THOSE. I would make a WETSUIT out of Frop Patches.
Seriously, folks, I had a MEAN, I mean a VICIOUS cigaret habit, and just like EVERY TEENAGER NOWADAYS I started out thinking I'd just smoke one now and then for the buzz. Thought I was TOO SMART to get HOOKED.
Wait, what am I doing?
((Cuts off sad Zoogz music, switches to "8 1/2 Theme" by Nina Rota))
I ain't that kind of preacher. I don't mean to preach to you. I'd MUCH RATHER WHACK YOU UPSIDE THE HEAD WITH A STICK!!
And speaking of sticks with dead guys on 'em, MERRY CHRISTMAS, and HAPPY HANUCKAH, and HAIL SATAN, PRAISE "BOB," NAM YO HO RENGE KYO, IHEMSAH!!!
Christmas is, needless to say, the most DEPRESSING of holidays, the special time when so many take time out to find suicide in their hearts, when the SubGenius skulks through the malls HATING and HATING all the happy chappy faces and piped-in everpresent Christmas Carols and the forced dinners with the family who are mostly Pinks or else CRAZY, and... well, the presents are cool. And everybody gets DRUNK and all weepy on New Years, I know I'll be the weepiest bastard of 'em all this time, too, I can already see it coming, but let me tell you one thing, boys and girls, NOBODY hates Christmas as much as JESUS. For ONCE, let's let JESUS speak for himself?
JESUS TAPE NOT AVAILABLE because JESUS had to WORK FOR THE CONSPIRACY.
Ain't it IRONIC that the ONLY STATIONS that WOULD play tapes of Jesus Christ are the SubGenius stations that carry Hour of Slack.
Improvs on Jesus's complaints about Christmas... Stang gradually reverts from screaming at the audience to babbling surreally as tape ends side one.
_____________________________
SIDE TWO
((Background music by Messengers of Deception/Cosmic Triad))
Improv rant on
BOOK OF SUBGENIUS predictions -- 1996 mostly came true; 1997 predictions, and improv rant.
And friends, we here at the Church HQ wish you a VERY happy new year, cause it's the LAST ONE YOU'RE GONNA HAVE. 1998 won't LAST a whole year. When you get that 1998 calendar you might as well do like Dr. Legume did, just tear it in half, tear the whole back end off starting at July 6 1998 because there ain't gonna BE a July 6 1998. Ahimseh. AHEUNMSEH!!
THE RAMONES: "It's Gonna Be Alright"
Stang reminisces about the old station in Dallas.
XMAS CLIPS: The Nuclear Xmas Tree from old Superman record.
KHUS SubShow radio clips (Arcata station) with St. Dogsamatic and friends discussing the holiday of Advert, chocolate crucifixes, SubGenius FAITH before reason. Misc. bits copped from The Book. Pro Choice Dobbs.
Old radio clip: "If Every Day Was Christmas", quick collage of Pink and Horror Xmas Sounds -- "The Giant Yule Log" and Preparation H
PO BOX --
end with Hendrix DRUMMER BOY/SILENT NIGHT/AULD ANG SYN
also Hendrix AULD ANG SYN from BoG bootleg "Happy New Year Jimi" (first Fillmore East show) plus opening of WHO KNOWS.
Original file name: HoS 558 Smoking Xmas New Years
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