If your mother was a werewolf, what would you do?

What if your mother became a viscious werewolf when the full moon's light spreads across the sky? Imagine: the excess hair growth, deadly claws replacing her painted fingernails, yellow eyes, a foaming mouth and one bad attitude.

What would you do? What could you do?

Clearly you would have a moral struggle in killing her. Most of the time, she's a pretty darned good mom. It's only every full moon that she's a rampaging werewolf who will kill anything in her path. Even you.

Perhaps you'd look for an antidote. Maybe you'd start making some silver bullets. Maybe you'd tell your dad and he'd say, 'I always knew something was up with that bitch...' Perhaps you'd lock her in a cage right before every full moon and then feed her several pounds of steak.

But, your mother is a werewolf! She wants human flesh. So the next question you have to ask yourself is this: while she's locked up, would you kill a human in order to sate her appetite. You don't want to see her unhappy. You want to please your mother, even in her altered state.

Or would you let her take a nibble out of your hand, so that you too could become a werewolf and join her in doing werewolf things?

These are all questions one needs to ask in the event one's mom turns into a werewolf.

Revamping The Blog & Welcoming New Writers

We've decided to enlarge the blog, or engorge it, so to speak, if you prefer an overtly sexual vernacular. Several writers will now be contributing pieces that will range from food and album reviews, to personal diaries and news commentary. That's not all! There's more! And its yours for the one time only price of FREE! Jesus will be offering up his commentary on the news. We're also thinking of having Mohammed write an editorial, but we're trying to avoid a Fatwa.

Here are the new columns:

'EARTH! A Jesus Story' - A weekly news commentary courtesy of the robed one. We're currently negotiating a daily piece with him. What? Jesus got get paid, too!
'Hi I'm Andy Banks' - A weekly update of the goings-on in Andy Banks life, written by Andy Banks.
'Dood Food with Uncle Ken' - A bi-monthly recipe column paired with classic album reviews. Apparently, Chili and ZZ Top are the first pairing. Stay tuned. Written by Ken Pangburn.
'This Week In...' - A weekly travelogue from travel correspondents who clearly know nothing about the places they've been. If they haven't been to Beirut, they'll make it up!
'Hannity's Hemorrhoid' - A column written from the perspective of Harry, a hemorrhoid located in the nether regions of Sean Hannity's ass. He will talk about anything and everything.
'Poster Child for Eugenics' - A weekly award given to the week's biggest idiot, with accompanying commentary.
'People You Should Avoid' - A column emphasizing people that you should avoid at all costs.


Several more columns are forthcoming and we'll keep you updated with the latest additions to the staff.

Cheers,

DJ

Klaxons Set To Invade America

Not on my watch! Stay in the UK you twats.

Gays and Christians United Against Snickers

Have we slipped into some bizarre, post-Super Bowl cultural vortex? If you haven't noticed already, Gays and Christians are united against a common enemy--a global candymaker? Oh, the Horror!

The Gays take issue with how the ad suggests an inherent immasculation exists in a homosexual kiss.

Religious conservatives take issue with the Homosexual kiss, in general, during the wholesome Super Bowl festivities.

What do we take away from this whole fiasco? Snickers makes you a self-loathing homosexual.

The Misshapes DJ parties and New York goes nuts!!!

The Misshapes... Angular haircuts have never been so finally tuned as with this group. Lots of black. Lots of white. Chic designs. Mugatu surely would have said, 'Misshapes, so hot right now!' Continuing with the Zoolander theme, every photo op for the trio is just another opportunity to project cool through carefully measured Magnum poses.

More to the point, what is it that has everyone falling over themselves to heap praise on these three stooges of hip culture?

- They DJ at clubs! So does Richie Hawtin, Darren Emerson and a plethora of others. If you know good music and have the skills to man the turntables, there's nothing spectacular about DJing in and of itself. This is where marketing and self-promotion come in and therein lies The Misshapes real talent: selling cool.

- But, they have such great fashion sense! No, not really. They look like just about every other rock star, DJ, fashion hipster on the planet.

Shit... I can't even think of any additional reasons why we should be looking at our watches to see if the 15 minutes are up with this group. Their image simply says it all. All image, no substance.

Marie Antoinette - Film Review

Pop culture film references have grown old, and nothing has sped these annoyances along as quickly as the modern soundtrack. In the right hands, a pop or alternative soundtrack can be a welcome addition to any film. In the wrong hands, you get efforts like Varsity Blues, any modern horror film, or any project that stars teenage divas like that waif of an actress who starred in Lizzy McGuire. In the right hands--in assured, tasteful hands, you can achieve brilliance. Enter Sofia Coppola and her 'Music Supervisor' extraordinaire, Brian Reitzell.

What they have done with Marie Antoinette is added a heretofore unheard of emotional dimension to the tired genre that is the Bio Pic. It is one of the more perfect blends of filmmaking and music that this critic has ever seen, aside from The Graduate and, well... Lost In Translation.

Back in my college days (at film school, of course), one of my professor's teaching assistants banned us from using music for our short films. She said it was an emotional cheat. I always took exception and let the rest of my classmates know my displeasure. Sure, film must stand on its own artistic and creative merits; but, music is such an important aspect of filmmaking (going back to the silent era), that the two artistic forms are joined in ways we really cannot fathom. The emotional power is elusive but profound.

However, none of this talk would amount to anything if Coppola hadn't written and directed such a wonderful film. My use of the word 'wonderful' bears some explanation. I am not essentially elevating this film into a pantheon of objectively great films. For what is art but deciding on subjective grounds what each person finds pleasing, intriguing or repulsive? By wonderful I mean that this film is full of wonder. It is a dream biopic. As if we, the audience, are experiencing the short life of Marie through a dream. And dreams are nothing if they are not wonderful, whether they are beautiful or terrible. Coppola deftly fuses the beautiful with the terrible in Marie Antoinette. She has channeled the spirit and sense of surreal wonder found in a Fellini film. In fact, if Fellini were alive, he would have directed this film. Of that, I am sure.

The politics of pre-Revolutionary France are relagated to the periphery in favor of a more personal, human examination of what it means to be young and royal, and responsible for producing not only a male heir, but a strong, strategic relationship with another country. And the wonder of such a predicament, the beauty and the terror of it all, are lovingly conveyed by Coppola.

And the modern music of Kevin Shields, The Radio Dept, Squarepusher, Aphex Twin, and many others, helped this film resonate with audiences who live in the present, not in the past.

Bon Voyage Syd... You Always Felt So Unreal.

There was once a magazine with a face on it. Not just any face, you see, 'cause this face was quite beautiful. Sad, mysterious, lost and all that business, you know, all that jazz. The curly, disheveled hair intrigued me. The dark eyes were dark globes, and the face was asking, "Wouldn't you miss me?", but I didn't know this was the question being asked of me at the time. Now, of course, I realize that this face was asking if I'd miss him 10 years on. The face transcended time I tell you. It weaved through the wondering years with me: a pocketbook companion for a musical soul. My uncle Von Frederick lent me this dandy of a magazine. Methinks it was pre-ordained by God: a bona fide deus ex machina, if you will. (Christ, I used more Latin there than I have in the last 5 years combined.) It was meant for me, and I for it. It was written in the stars, as it were.

Who was this fellow with the dark globes for eyes and medusa-like curls? Why, it was The Floydian Syd Barrett--the imperfect flower. He whispered to me something inaudible. And I said, "What's this that you say?" Syd replied, "I never lied to you." To which I said, "I'm sorry to be harsh, but we've never met Mr. Syd." "Of course we haven't, you twat, I've lived alone for the better part of 30 years in me mum's house. That was the name of one of my songs. I was in Pink Floyd" "No need to call me a twat, I'm a 13 years old, Mr. Syd. And I have listened to Pink Floyd as long as I can remember," I said. Syd looked down and then whispered, "Sorry, people think I'm crazy, so I'm a bit irritable. As for Pink Floyd, you've never heard the songs that I wrote. But, you will some day."

I nodded obediently.

I looked into his globes and said, "Don't worry, Mr. Syd, I know you're not crazy, you're just a wild flower who was tired of the music.... no worries."

Syd smiled and said, "I've been painting since I left the music." "Oh really?" I said, "That's wonderful."

Syd went on to tell me that many of the major works of art from 1975 on were actually his works, and that in fact he hadn't been all that absent from the public eye. You know Jean-Michel Basquiat, the black artist with similar medusa-like hair? Well, that was actually Syd. He simply painted himself black so people wouldn't recognize him. I had a grand laugh at that one.

He also related how he had developed diabetes and he feared his time on this planet was growing shorter. I cried a bit and said, "No, Syd, you're just a beautiful flower that never quite blossomed. You can blossom still!"

Syd paused and then parted with, "I go to blossom in the gloom."

And with that... he vanished, and I played a merry air.

Bon Jour

This is a recent interview in its enitirety with the Zindane Zinadine red card, which sent him off of the pitch for the last time:

TuBeaucoup: whats your favorite color?
CarteRogue: azzuri! Anche sono il razzista!