St Louis Sinner

Issue 8 Sept 2009

The Best Health Care Money Can Buy 911Truth.org Statement to the Press

Say Uncle

UNMASKED!

Gen XX Invades the Fox Hole Jimmy from Bare Knuckle Conflict Mary Elizabeth of Sinifis

Fear & Publishing Covers & Copouts As an independent publisher it’s your call to what content you decide to publish, and what image you decide to run on the cover of your zine. Either choice can be the difference between having roses or stones thrown at you, but sometimes your just damned from the start. Take last month for example, when we featured the graffiti art of Low Down and Amen. We jerked some heads with that one, yet confused some at the same time. Well consider this a warning for October, you haven’t seen anything yet.

Those into graffiti loved our choice, commenting on the cover and interview that we featured with Amen on numerous occasions to myself and Amen. On the other end, some that follow The Sinner didn’t get it. Over at PT’s Sport’s Cabaret Big Moe asked, “What’s this paper about?” after looking at the cover. He had expected another half-naked vixen to be featured again. The closet thing to tits and ass for Moe to find that day was the gals inside PT’s.

It’s easy to fall into the pit of assumptions, even more so when you publish a paper titled The Sinner. After all, sex sells, in the billions of dollars. And when we make the call to run the half-naked gals on the front cover, they move faster than free condoms and ice cream. Then why not run a half-naked gal on every front cover? There’s plenty of photographers who shoot that type of content to choose from and keep us supplied with covers for years to come, but that would be a copout to the principle of our foundation, the fairest coverage possible of local artists.

About six-and-a-half years ago we decided to give the front cover to one local artist every month, dedicating that page and another to the local art scene, not moving papers. Although I enjoy the bare flesh of a sexy dame as much as the next guy or pervert tossing his cookies to it, I also appreciate art of different forms. In Seattle we have ran everything from oil paintings and construction art to plaster statues and pin-up art. And we have even run the infamous Nazi flag waving in the background behind Gak on the cover of our July issue a few years back.

That one caused us some grief, but the appreciation outweighed it ten-fold. It was a great shot, but the real issue was to make those who blindly wave the American flag unconditionally to notice how easy it is to confuse patriotism with nationalism. But doing the right thing is seldom easy.

The one thing an independent publisher, or those who work with one, must come to grips with is dealing with the pressures that exist in this line of work – and it is work, a shit-load of work. Beyond critique, finances, deadlines, advertising, scheduling, coverage and controversial covers of Nazi Flags, lies the most crucial part of publishing, delivery. It’s the position with no fame or glory and even less money, the job of the lone roadie.

We recently lost a delivery guy to the pressuresof this, and life in general. The call came from Seattle midnight our time, 10pm in Seattle. I was ready to hit the sack after a long day, but I checked the message that was left. I had that weird feeling in my gut that something wasn’t right, that shit had hit the fan and been splattered all over the walls and floor. At least that would have been a mess easy to clean, the one I found made shit on the walls look like puppy dogs and kitty cats on a fucking Sunday picnic.

Our man had went over the edge and lost his bag of marbles somewhere between life and dream. The edge isn’t friendly to those not accustomed to its madness.

Some who dare venture off the lit path are just damned fools, always questioning what lies beyond the darkness until they feel the edge disappear beneath their feet.

It’s too late then to scream for help, your splattered sixways to nowhere. Then again, some just have a feel for the edge, that animalistic gene that senses danger and death in darkness and sleep. Regardless of how you find the edge, it takes a beating on the soul and body, one that too many can’t stomach. We believe this is the case with our guy, The Cheshire Cat; that or someone just slipped him a bad Mickey out of spite or ignorance.

The call came from a local pub, but the message left linked me to a place that would frighten Alice and make Harry shit his pants. I returned the call, even though the same gut that said answer the phone now screamed not to. His first words were of men outside waiting to “whack” him for knowing too much. These assassins had

allegedly been following The Cat for days. Just the day before they had followed him all the way to Chinatown, where he only escaped demise by dipping into a lounge and calling a friend. Now they were pissed and death was waiting outside for him. He said he couldn’t shake them, not even after entering a friend’s house and borrowing a set of his clothes for disguise, work hat at all. He said he had even went out the back door and down the alley, but Lady Luck was against him, they still found him.

I could only give him what he desperately needed, a calm voice of reason. I wanted to tell The Cat that it was the Van Buren Boys after him, and his only chance of escape was to show their secret sign, but that kind of talk might have sent him running towards the Aurora Bridge. Instead I had him wait for yet another friend, who had previously agreed on the phone to get The Cat to the hospital. The way The Cheshire Cat was talking made me think that he needed his stomach pumped, not more stiff drinks.

The Al Capone character in charge of placing the hit on our friend was believed to live in the attic, where Al and The Cat’s girlfriend and family were dealing cocaine to the Cubans or some other group of Red bastards.

After this was explained, my friend got him to the hospital in Edmonds, but he escaped early the next morning and took to the streets. The next day he was found on the streets of Aurora, stumbling from bar to bar with the $50 our friend had slipped The Cat when he left him at the hospital. Our gracious friend doesn’t know much about the Edge, either. You never give a rambling nut-job enough cash to run for a few days, just enough to make it to a pay phone. Lesson learned.

Our friend finally got The Cheshire Cat to Harborview, who quickly shipped his crazy ass to University hospital for barricading the door with his bed to keep the assassins working for the hospital out. The next day he escaped University too, scurrying for freedom when the staff buzzed our visiting friend and his girlfriend out.

His last words were heard down the hall as he ripped his shirt from his body, “come on, cracker, let’s get out of here!”

Three or four days later The Cheshire Cat made it back to family, after living off of berries and insects for several days. Of course, Al Capone always gets his man, so the chase continued through the airports, where guns were allowed on planes and handed to passengers in flight. Even the captain was part of this grand scheme, who held the flight at one stop to board guns for the hitmen and hitwomen who were following The Cheshire Cat back home.

The Cat is safely back home, far from the Edge, back on the lit path, that safe road he should have never ventured from. And that, my dear reader, is just another tale of fear and publishing in two cities... until The Cat returns.

Sanity & Phsyc Wards

2

News, Rants & Politics 2. Fear and Publishing 3. Truth Between the Sheets 4. Presumptions of Perpetual Prosperity 5. Weapons of Mass Distraction 6. Piper’s Pit 7. The Best Health Care Money Can Buy 8. Why Are They Crying 9. 911truth.org Statement to the Press

Music, Film, Art & Entertainment Religion, Sex, & Other Sinner Shit

10. Huggy Talk 17. Our Sinful Community 21. Campfire Tales 22. Burlesque on the Rocks 23. This I Shamelessly Tell You 23. Dr. Dick Sex Advice

11. Prosevere - metal mania 12. Say Uncle poster 14. Roxotica 15. Say Uncle Unmasked 16. Gen XX Invades the Fox Hole 18. Art Potion 19. The Sinful Art of Plastic 20. Those Dirty Bastards

Publisher: Chuck Foster Layout: Terri Daniels and Danielle Correll Sales: Chuck Foster Cover Art : Plastic Writers, Ranters, Opinionists & Other All-Out Freaks: Matthew Gorman Rajkhet Dirzhud-Rashid Saab Lofton Henry Nicolle Mark Taylor-Canfield Jeff Diggs Danielle Correll Matt Pachmyer Kimberly Peters Joshua Merrit Dr. Dick Chet Chesterson John Cole Robbie Hays

The Sinner is a group of contributing writers.

A forum of opinions, rants and ideas which do not necessarily reflect the views of The Sinner itself.

The Sinner encourages contributions from its readers but retains the right to edit material due to content or length of submission.

For advertising or submission information, contact us at chuck@theseattlesinner.com.

myspace.com/stlouissinner

written by Joshua Merritt

Separtment of Defence

Truth between the Sheets

A

s this past month has come to a hectic end, the realization of my looming deployment is starting to set in. My trip to Iraq in 2005 through 2006 was a lot easier than compared to this one. Now I have a family that cares and 3 children; an infant, a 13-year-old son and a 9-year-old daughter. One of my friends, a medic, was sent home at the end of August from an IED blast after less than a month of being over there. The only thing that makes me want to go and do the job that I have volunteered for is to make sure my friends that I have trained with for the past two years come home to their families.

For all of those people out there who detest what us in the military do or what we stand for, I invite you to talk to one of us – you might be surprised. When I returned from Iraq after a year of doing what seemed to be small and unimportant, I was surprised to receive a standing ovation at the airport in Dallas, Texas. Granted, Texas being my home state, I know how everyone there feels about military members and our jobs overseas. However, to myself, my job was insignificant.

Imagine, if you will, being in a foreign country where there is an enemy who looks like everyone else around you. His only mission is to kill any American and make enough money to feed his family.

Sometimes it isn’t even the enemy who attacks, just an Iraqi in need of money to purchase food or clothes. Imagine sitting in a truck all night driving down a road that even at 1am is still 110 degrees with no humidity, where the heat is like a blow dryer in your face. There is sand everywhere and gets in everything and you can no longer stay clean no matter how many times you shower. You’re with guys ranging anywhere from 18-years-old to guys in their 40s looking to retire soon. You’re driving down a road for 8 to 10 hours a night, possibly longer, with 2 other guys in a convoy of 34 to 36 trucks and having conversations for a year with 24 other military members. The things you talk about to kill the boredom are horrendous, everything from what you miss back home to women and rants about the government and science.

After a year of worrying if every piece of trash on the side of the road could have a bomb in it, you come home and instinctively swerve around every piece of trash on the road and stare at the overpasses on the highway still thinking there might be a guy up there wanting to kill you. A tire popping on the highway or a backfire can cause you to momentarily return to a moment when you took gunfire or when an IED went off and you had to watch a buddy get hurt. After a year of all of this, you complete your tour and return home, only to be placed in a new unit with all new faces where you train for your next deployment and get ready to leave your comfort zone to go fight for freedoms that you defend with your life even when there are fellow countrymen who mock what you do. I have no quandary with them but I do get hurt when I look at pictures that I have where I am the only one left alive in the picture. The lives of my buddies who were lost for what someone else believed was a worthy cause to politicians and those in power have that blood on their hands every day to deal with, yet there are those who blame us, the soldiers.

Now imagine this: you and your best friend that you have known for a long time are out one day, getting to know people in a distant country that you have never been to but are obligated to meet and learn their ways and culture. Then as your walking down a road, what if you looked over just in time to see him or her get a bullet between the eyes, or even worse, watch them turn to vapor from a road side bomb? Now tell me you wouldn’t want to make someone within eye range pay for your friend’s death. Tell me you wouldn’t feel anger and hatred for every person you see in that country after that.

SPC. Gunney

photo by Staff Sgt. Sean A. Foley

E s s a y | Presumptions of Perpetual Prosperity - Cassandra’s View

by Henry Nicolle

T

he optimist side of my pessimistic personality upon prospects for the future. I have factored presumes an imminent apocalypse to be only that little piece of philosophy into my planning half as bad as I think it will be. Heck, how “BAD” as well. can it get? In keeping with the concepts of any In a local economy, which is a part of a prudent Armageddon - cum - Apocalypse - cum financial system which has failed, business goes - 2012 Jeremiah or Cassandra might follow, were on as usual. People are born, they live, they make they my contemporaries, I prepare for prosperity more people and they die. It is very difficult to during a radical transition in my neighborhood, stop this process. In between being born and while I work as best I can to prevent the worst dying, people need stuff and people who need from becoming reality. stuff provide an opportunity for people who make Our present presumption of peace and stuff or can find stuff or can grow stuff or can prosperity is cloaked in fog and what might fix stuff or can somehow otherwise improvise become our future is cast impenetrably opaque. In to provide a satisfactory substitute for the stuff plain English, that means, “Who the hell knows people want or need. what’s going on right now? And if we are clueless I figure that as our monetary system fails and about this moment in our world, only a moron our currency finds a new life as a cheap substitute would presume to speak confidently of our next for decorative wall-covering, that local business moment!” Still, we write essays today, presuming that someone might print them tomorrow and someone else might actually read them the day after that!

Tomorrow, she will come, and she will bring us plenty. We presume “plenty” of good and prosperous pleasantness.

What if our presumptions are false? If false, how disturbed will be our days and nights without the ease of prosperous presumptions? I don’t want to know.

Since our presumptions of tomorrow are firmly rooted in our experiences today, our Lower center of the The Last Judgement by Michelangelo preparations for tomorrow (by those of us who actually prepare for tomorrow) will proceed more or less as usual, but without resemble what we found necessary for today. the extravagance of buying a lot of “new” stuff.

Accordingly, I have done some minor physical When “times get hard” we relearn the old preparation conforming to my own political skills which served us well in the thousands of and social philosophies. I have set aside an years preceding the 1960 to 2010 American “interim” supply of food, fundamental luxuries, consumer society. Who knows? Perhaps we will money substitutes, Stone Age-essential tools and relearn the lost arts of darning our socks, patching materials which may be difficult to acquire or our clothes and repairing our shoes. If we can do scavenge on the run. that, there’s a good chance that other valuable I am good to stay alive, comfortable and skills will find a place in our spare time. Say, immodestly entertained during the run-of-the- quilting, weaving, sewing quality into our clothes mill local emergency such as a couple days to and bringing back the art of fine embroidery and couple weeks of recovery to normality following crochet work. Who knows what will be valuable a severe fire, earthquake or local catastrophe. I’m tomorrow, anymore than we recognize what is also good to stay alive and comfortable (so far as truly valuable today? comfort may be achievable) during an extended So, being domesticated folk, not adventurers, recovery period, considerably less comfortable a couple friends and I put our talents and our little however, if friends and neighbors show up to savings to work with the idea of building now share a meal or two. What I have is also highly to prosper in the future. We began a micro-sized pedestrian-portable, allowing an instant (if slow) management company for assisting craftsmen relocation. and professionals to build and profit from Of course, every major change which appears their labor. There are a lot of licensed men and to be a disaster on the surface generally turns out women who excel at their work and are lousy at to be an improvement - if not upon the past, then managing their professions and revenue. The men and women we are nurturing provide a collection of the skills and knowledge of maintenance, repair and rebuilding which may be essential values in the transitional phase of our society.

If we succeed, we will benefit as times get sharp and if times get bad, we will prosper where others may suffer from false presumptions of perpetual prosperity. Nothing of our labor will be lost, either way.

Wish us luck!

4

photo and paint by Plastic

myspace.com/stlouissinner

Health care in the US: Propaganda Rules The Debate!

H

ow do you “swift boat” a US president who is trying to expand access to medical care for the country’s citizens? Answer: undermine the national debate on the issue with irrational paranoid warnings about “socialism”. The reactionaries have been very busy pushing this line in the national media. Once again, the powers that be are using fear as a political organizing tactic.

Huge medical corporations and pharmaceutical companies, along with their neo-con and fundamentalist Christian friends, are derailing health care reform for financial and political purposes. It’s just that simple. Here’s a quote from an article about the funding of these organizations written by journalist Margaret Talev, published August 17th in The Seattle Times: “Much of the money and strategy behind the socalled ‘grass-roots’ groups organizing opposition to the Democrats’ health care plans comes from conservative political consultants, professional organizers and millionaires who hold financial stakes in the outcome.”

One of the largest lobbying groups - Conservatives For Patient’s Rights - is led by a medical industry entrepreneur named Rick Scott.

Scott was CEO of the Columbia/HCA hospitals until he left during a federal investigation into Medicare fraud. The corporation paid a $1.7 billion historic settlement as a result. Rick Scott was never prosecuted. In fact, he was awarded a very generous “golden parachute” after he left the company.

Two other powerful anti-reform groups, Patients First and Patients United were actually created by a larger organization called Americans For Prosperity. AFP was formed by billionaire David Koch. Through their corporation Koch Industries, the oil rich Koch family has become one of the nation’s largest contributors to conservative political causes.

AFP’s president, Tim Phillips, is a former Republican congressional staffer and political operative who helped Christian Coalition Executive Director Ralph Reed set up a consulting firm. The firm, Century Strategies, was formed to build Christian support for various business interests and their political causes. One of their clients was the notorious neo-con lobbyist Jack Abramoff who was convicted on corruption charges and is now serving a long prison sentence.

The arguments these groups are using often sound just like classic Cold War propaganda. A revamped kind of McCarthy-style Red Scare has been their latest strategy. Hordes of antireformists have been gathering across the nation to challenge any attempts at establishing universal health care. The funding sources behind many of the most effective organized opposition groups is largely unknown to the general public, thanks largely to an ill-informed and irresponsible corporate media that refuses to look below the surface and take a critical look at the current political debate.

It is truly amazing to realize that these forces have once again accomplished the task of all oppressors.

They have convinced much of the population to fear and to resist social reforms designed to enhance the quality of their own lives. Miraculously, they have succeeded in deceiving the masses by claiming that increasing the average person’s access to medical services is actually a bad thing.

It’s absolutely mind-blowing to think that we live in a nation where folks can be so easily misled, especially on such a vital public issue. The corporate propaganda machines are working overtime to provide enough lies to sink any attempts at providing universal health care for the populace. This debate, which should have been decided fifty years ago, is still being sabotaged by corporate interests who are making massive profits off of the current broken system.

I present, as exhibit number one, a shocking conversation I had with a physician in Seattle who graduated from Columbia University medical school.

While my usual primary care physician was out of the country giving a lecture on new medical research in Europe, I had to go to another doctor who was filling in.

After a routine exam, he began a political tirade after asking me what I thought of Barack Obama’s health care proposals. Actually, he wasn’t interested in my answer, he just wanted to state his own opinions. Since

I hadn’t come to the medical clinic to seek a lecture about national health care legislation, I considered his disputation to be quite unprofessional and extremely annoying.

The good doctor went on at length about his dislike of any publicly subsidized proposals to create universal health care coverage in the United States .

He said, “I don’t want to provide medical care to poor people. My family spent a lot of money to send me to medical school. I deserve to make as much as I can.

Obama’s plan would force me to accept patients who would have government sponsored medical insurance that pays me less than private insurance companies.

I don’t like it. The damn thing needs to be stopped before we turn into a socialist country like Cuba .”

I was shocked, to say the least. Here was a prime example of one of the problems with the US health care system – a greedy capitalist physician with no sympathy for those less fortunate than himself,

including people who were not born into a wealthy upstate New York family. I kept wondering if he had forgotten the Hippocratic Oath. Or had he taken the Hypocritical Oath instead? Aren’t doctors sworn to alleviate the suffering of people no matter who they are?

Unfortunately, old sawbones went on and on, deriding any kind of national health care reform proposals. ”That’s why I refuse to accept any patients on Medicaid or Medicare,” he said. “People who need welfare are usually stupid or morally weak. Why should I have to work with them? I make more money dealing with well-to-do clients. That’s my choice. I don’t really care what happens to people who can’t afford health care insurance. That’s not my problem. Most of them could go out and get a decent job if they wanted to.

They know they will never get good medical care with government funded health insurance.”

The doctor at this metropolitan medical establishment reeked of arrogance, bigotry and prejudice. I really couldn’t believe my ears because I knew for certain that I wasn’t paying him to deliver caustic diatribes about national politics. All of this seemed highly unethical.

Later I filed a complaint about him with the clinic and the American Medical Association.

Since I suspect many of the administrators at the AMA are actually in agreement with many of the doctor’s positions on health care, I doubt they will ever respond to my complaint.

Finally, after listening to his endlessly vapid comments and crass arguments against reforms, I could take it no longer.

I couldn’t hold my tongue. I said I was in favor of universal health care for everyone in the US . I pointed out that the United States currently ranks 36th among the world’s nations in terms of medical care, just behind Costa Rica .

I talked about our country’s high infant mortality rate and unhealthy nutrition standards.

I also mentioned the fact that universal health care is available in nations in Northern Europe and that those nations have a higher standard of living than the United States .

Finally, I told him that his elitist aristocratic attitude is part of the reason why the US medical industry is developing such a foul reputation. At this point the doctor became very agitated and his face turned red with anger. I thought he might have to monitor his own high blood pressure. Then the conversation turned even more bizarre.

When he found out I was an independent journalist he told me, in a very condescending tone, “You know, you should get a real job. Working at Dick’s Drive In would be more honest employment. Flipping burgers would be a better job and they give you pretty decent medical insurance.”

Now, not only was I being derided for my political views, I was also being given career advice from an MD - very strange indeed. Of course, I realized he was being extremely facetious in his comments about my journalism. So I told him that my job was to “afflict the comfortable and to comfort the afflicted”. He didn’t

written by Mark Taylor-Canfield seem to understand that reference. Then I quoted some news stories that KBCS had broadcast about the current state of US health care. One of the stories involved a US reporter who was injured in a bicycle accident in Germany . The German doctors performed a complicated high tech hip surgery on him and charged him 7,000 Euros.

When the man returned to the US he was ordered by his American physician to report to the local hospital for x-rays. The US doctors later declared that the German surgeons had done an expert job repairing his hip. When the man received a bill for the tests and x-rays at the US hospital, he was charged over $4,000.

Another example of counter propaganda is the story I told him about my Canadian friend whose father had to spend weeks in the hospital before his untimely death several years ago. Despite the best medical treatment, including 24 hours a day nursing care, the family did not have to pay any medical bills. Similar circumstances in the US have often led to bankruptcy, foreclosures on family homes and total financial ruin for those who can’t afford that kind of intensive medical treatment.

By the time I had finished my impassioned ad hoc expose’ on US health care reform, the good doctor was absolutely furious. He told me that my views were “typical liberal misconceptions” concerning health care legislation. He claimed that the Canadian health care model was “inefficient and dangerous.” I asked him to back up his claims with some documentation but he refused to discuss the matter any further. He quickly wrote me a prescription for some pharmaceutical drug that I didn’t want and waved me off like I was some poor ignorant child. He told me he did not want to see me again, that I should seek out another doctor. I said I would prefer another physician.

After that discouraging encounter, I wrote a letter to the Obama health care team outlining my own personal experiences. The Obama administration decided to post my letter on their website. They asked me to meet with my congressional representatives, letter in hand, to discuss my views about legislative reform measures to revamp the US health care system.

Actually, I am very disappointed that President Barack Obama has already made so many deals with the pharmaceutical lobbyists and other powerful corporate interests who are opposed to universal health care. We all remember how the Clinton plan was destroyed by the use of false propaganda and threats of imminent disaster. It remains to be seen just how much reform is actually possible at this point, given the vast resources of the anti-reform lobbying groups and the tight control they exercise over their puppets in the US Congress.

The shame of it all is that poor folks are still being denied medical treatment and middle class families continue to declare bankruptcy, losing their homes due to the high cost of medical care in the US. Some kind of solution must be found despite the well-funded efforts of corporate lobbyists to obstruct the process.

As usual, their main goal is to keep the populace confused, afraid and divided. It’s time for the country to challenge these lies and see the lobbyists for what they are- crass liars who will say anything in an attempt to block the promise of any real health care reform.

We have a long way to go before we can claim to be truly proud of the way we take care of our people in this country. The people need to win this one. We need a victory over the selfish self-interest and outright greed that was displayed by the doctor I had to deal with that day. He may have the right, according to the law, to deny medical care to the poor, but is it really ethical and in accordance with the Hippocratic Oath which states “Do no harm”? Hopefully, it will not be left to the corporate medical industry lobbyists to decide this question.

Those Damn Hippies! written by Saab Lofton

“[Rhonda Byrne’s The Secret] boldly and ignorantly states, ‘The only reason any person does not have enough money is because they are blocking money from coming to them with their thoughts.’ Tell that to the 36 million Americans living in poverty. Even worse, tell that to the 3 billion people worldwide who live on less that $2 a day.”

-Courtney E. Martin of AlterNet “The new age/hippie types who insist we all ‘create our own reality’ never had to think much about the privilege that was created for them before they were born. They drive me apeshit.”

-Geov Parrish of Eat the State (from a personal e-mail he sent me on July 20th, 2007) South African photographer Peter Magubane compiled shots he took during the Soweto protests in his book Never, Never Again. In its forward, the Reverend Desmond Tutu made this statement: “I wrote an open letter to the then-Prime Minister Mr. B.J. Vorster. In it I was warning him that unless something was done and done urgently to remove the causes of black anger then I was fearful of what was likely to erupt.” Now pay attention, ‘cause if ya blink, you’ll miss it: Rev. Tutu stated, “to remove THE CAUSES of black anger...” My main problem with New Agers/hippies is they instead try to remove the anger itself, all the while leaving those causes intact.

Yogis have been known to walk barefoot across a bed of hot coals, but does a yogi have the mutant ability to freeze those coals like Iceman from The X-Men? Obviously not, the yogi simply blocks the pain from his mind. That’s exactly what New Agers/hippies expect the poor/ oppressed (left-wing) to do. So no matter how much one suffers from racism/sexism/capitalism/imperialism, is squatting in a Lotus position and singing Kumaya the answer? Wrong!

No problem in history has ever been solved by ignoring it.

Nor can problems be solved by playing referee. How did Edward R. Murrow put it in Good Night and Good Luck? “I’ve searched my conscience and I can’t for the life of me find any justification for this. I simply cannot accept that there are, on every story, two equal and logical sides to an argument.”

In contrast, New Agers/hippies love to wallow in solipsistic moral relativism like pigs in slop and they let the rich/powerful (right-wing) off the hook whenever their asses spew this shit; I can just hear them now: “Hey man, if profiting from nuclear weapons is, like, your thing, who are we to judge?”

Music is said to soothe the savage beast, but sadly, the New Agers/hippies assume they can similarly sedate the angry black man with the power of positive thinking, again, fixating on anger rather than its causes. As Yoda said in The Empire Strikes Back, the dark side is quicker, easier and more seductive. So what’s easier?

Addressing a cause of black angst such as poverty or police brutality or chastising a brother for not masochistically castrating his emotions?

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As the great black author James Baldwin once said, “To be a Negro in this country and to be relatively conscious is to be in a rage almost all the time.”

On August 26, 2001, John Leland interviewed the award-winning musician and Civil Rights legend, Harry Belafonte.

Leland: You once described yourself as being in a constant state of rebellion, fueled by anger. How is your anger different at 74 than at 34?

Belafonte: The anger hasn’t changed. I’ve got to be a part of whatever the rebellion is that tries to change all this. The anger is a necessary fuel. Rebellion is healthy.

There’s an excellent commentary Harvard professors Michael C. Dawson and Lawrence Bobo tag-teamed with Blackcommentator. com to produce, headlined Different Moral Universe, and it explains this righteous rage: “Blacks and whites see the world from opposite ends of American Manifest Destiny, which is at the very core of the white national personality, worldview, and sense of self. Like a Black Hole, Manifest Destiny exerts a near-irresistible pull on white Americans, distorting history and even the near-past beyond recognition. Realities are made invisible, even as they unfold in plain sight.”

There is hope, however. Beth Quinn is white and she definitely understands. On August 28th, 2006, Quinn wrote the following for the TimesHerald Record: “Why do they accuse us Bush critics [now Obama critics] of being ‘bitter and angry,’ as though our lack of complacency is some sort of character flaw? Their implication is that being bitter and angry is just so unladylike.

Do they imagine we’re all at some 19th-century lawn party? That perhaps we’re throwing an unseemly fit because a croquet ball went off in the wrong direction? Of course we’re bitter and angry ... and if you’re not, I can only ask, what planet are you living on?”

Well, I’ve had enough! The rich WILL be taxed, the military’s budget WILL be cut and eco-friendly jobs that pay a living (NOT minimum) wage WILL be created for the poor! If anyone else tells me to pull my bootstraps (yuppie advice) or to create my own reality (hippie advice), they’re gonna have a fight on their hands!

photo by Alexander Konovalenko

myspace.com/stlouissinner

Only the Best Health Care Money Can Buy, well, for Congress

written by Jeff Diggs Over 46 million Americans have no health insurance and millions more are under-insured. Your Congressional representatives currently receive outstanding health related services and benefits that the average American will never get with or without health care reform.

The United States is the only industrialized nation on the planet that does not guarantee health care to all of its citizens. Health care has become a privileged benefit for those who are fortunate enough to afford health care services. This is not the case for members of the United States Congress.

Your Representatives and Senators receive the very best in health care benefits. Now, give yourself a big “Thank You” for paying for these health care related services for your law makers.

Congressional members may choose to participate between several health care plans and include their spouses and dependents.

There is no waiting period and coverage begins immediately. Likewise, there is no exclusion of services for any preexisting condition. Most Americans who are lucky enough to receive health care benefits are still excluded from some services due to preexisting health conditions. Your tax dollars pay 75 percent of the insurance premiums for your Congress members even if you don’t receive insurance coverage.

Your law markers also get some great perks. Members of Congress have their own pharmacy right inside the Capitol. They also have a team of doctors, technicians and nurses standing by just in case someone needs medical attention. They can get a physical exam, an X-ray or an electrocardiogram all without leaving work.

Of course taxpayers have to pay for these lavish services totaling $2 million annually.

Even with these lavish services that Congress receives at the taxpayer’s expense, Congress has been unable or unwilling to extend even the most basic health services to the rest of America; especially those who cannot afford or get health care services. Instead, Congress has focused on the financial well-being of pharmaceutical and insurance companies.

For example, the Medicare Reform Act of 2004 prohibits from negotiating with pharmaceutical companies for lower prices.

Other world governments and large private insurance companies always negotiate prices for prescription drugs. Law markers were clearly protecting pharmaceutical interests and not the taxpayers. Members of Congress, regardless of party affiliation, take millions of dollars annually in contributions from the health care industry which includes health providers, insurers, and pharmaceutical companies.

As long as lobbyist are allowed to “buy” Congress members and write law on behalf of the lobbyist agenda, true health care reform will never occur in the United States. Millions of Americans are receiving inadequate health care or no health care at all. Millions more are at immediate risk of losing their health insurance at any moment. Americans who are privileged enough to have health insurance have seen their premium rates double and triple in recent years along with rising deductibles and rising co-pays.

Some Americans even with health insurance have ended up bankrupt due to an illness and outrageous medial expenses not covered by insurance.

But there is good news.

Throughout all the recent rising costs of health care services in the United States, the health care coverage provided for members of Congress has remained unchanged and the cost kept down. Congress has proven that it knows how to take care of itself with outstanding health care services that are affordable and cost controlled.

It’s time for Congress to extend the same basic health rights to all Americans.

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written by Robbie Hays There is no greater lie present in America than the existence of an “America.” Even if one ignores the fact that the Americas technically encompass the entire Western Hemisphere (and thus it is the height of our arrogance as “Americans” to even refer to ourselves exclusively as “Americans,” as if none of the other countries count), one still can’t help but notice the obvious multitude of races and people present within the United States of America.

Despite this, the lie persists that there is an ideal America, a true American, an “American Way,” just like the one Superman has supposedly been fighting for since the 1930s.

Well, I would hate to come across like an unAmerican (see, even I’m doing it!) Lex Luthor, but this is simply not true. One cannot possibly combine the various opinions, beliefs, and religions present within the US into one, single, pure American person.

However, politicians, pundits, and the mass media are able to sell the American people on the simple lie that there is a true “America,” and that we are a part of it, while whoever our opponents are on any issue, aren’t. Thus, “American” is clearly defined as anyone who believes what we happen to believe, while “un-American” is anyone who doesn’t.

Simple, right? Anyone who wants us to follow whatever he/she is saying just claims theirs is the “American Way,” thus making their opponent’s opinions “un-American” and thus invalid.

Sadly, this lie/ brilliant marketing tool has become so ingrained in our culture, that many believe it to be true with every fiber of their being. It is as real and omnipresent to them as the sky, the Superbowl, or Denny’s Grand Slam breakfast (now available in sandwich form, what an awesome country!).

The concept that a true “America” exists and that they are a devoted part of it is simply unquestioned to these people; hence their obvious heartbreak when they are proven wrong, and also, hence why they are crying.

So, who are “they” exactly? In this case, “they” refers to someone interviewed for the documentary Right America: Feeling WrongedSome Voices from the Campaign Trail by filmmaker Alexandra Pelosi (Nancy Pelosi’s daughter… and if you don’t know who she is, watch CNN!). In the film (which takes place during the 2008 presidential campaign), Pelosi attends Republican rallies, follows a woman knocking on doors for McCain, and even goes to a NASCAR race to speak with the white, bluecollar Americans who feel they are being underor misrepresented by the media.

Emotions runs high for these people, especially on election day, with Obama leading in every pole and the chance of a McCain victory seeming smaller by the hour. One man (a grown, Southern, hard-working man who would probably feel awkward shedding a tear during Brian’s Song) very nearly breaks down into tears while standing in line to vote.

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This scene struck me as odd. His reaction was unexpected, and it made me feel pity for a man whom I doubt I agree with in regards to anything. I thought of this scene again recently, when I watched In the Heat of the Night.

For anyone unfamiliar with the film, Sidney Poitier plays Virgil Tibbs, a homicide detective who ends up investigating a murder in a smalltown in Georgia. The investigation leads to a confrontation with the richest man in town, an open racist named Eric Endicott. In the scene, Endicott, upon discovering that this Black man is daring to accuse him of murder, slaps Tibbs in the face. Tibbs responds by bitch-slapping Endicott.

The film takes place in the 60s, so Tibbs’ act is the ultimate expression of the new Black Power movements smacking down the old, racist regime, represented by Endicott. Endicott’s response to the slap is to squeak out, “There was a time when I could a’ had you shot,” while holding back tears. After Tibbs leaves, Endicott’s face twists and he lets out the emotions he has been withholding.

So, why is Endicott, the rich White man, crying? Because the country that he has grown up believing in (one where Blacks know their proper place and are happy there) doesn’t exist. The slap he receives is the reminder of a realization which he has probably been battling for years; the fact that the America he was raised to love and defend was no more than an illusion, a fairytale told to him to uphold, defend, and continue the racism that had persisted for centuries.

I’m not saying that the man Pelosi interviewed is a racist, nor am I saying that all the emotions expressed by the Republicans she interviews are due to racism (some of them are racists and admit it, one man even tells the female filmmaker that he doesn’t believe women should have the right to vote).

What I am saying is that similar to Endicott, the man who weeps in line is suddenly faced with the possibility that the country he has grown up worshipping as passionately as Jesus and the Cross, isn’t what he believed it to be.

The country he believes in, the capital “A” America with the “true” Americans, is strong in the face of the enemy (none of this “extend our hand if you unclench your fist” crap), Christian God-fearing (no possible secret Muslims running this show), and does not, no matter how dire the financial situation, get anywhere near Socialism (though most people don’t even know what that really means). He cries because he sees this America dying before his eyes, because this country he loves with all his heart is turning into someone else’s “America,” which is, of course, just as much a lie as his ever was.

So my fellow Americans, remember that “America” (as it’s been sold to you) doesn’t exist.

End of the lesson.

Greg Correll Photography model: Clarissa

SINNER myspace.com/stlouissinner

911truth.org Statement to the Press

Issued September 4, 2009

Numerous media outlets have contacted 911truth. org, asking us to “make sense” of Van Jones’ “strange” behavior. We have issued the following statement: As the eighth anniversary of 9/11 approaches, what doesn’t make sense to us is that media outlets choose to impugn the character of the signatories rather than carry out your responsibility as watchdogs to call attention to the as yet unanswered questions raised in the 2004 statement. Five years later, we challenge you to finally print those same unanswered questions and pursue their answers with the same vigor with which you pursue the signatories.

For readers’ convenience, following is the actual Truth Statement signed onto by Van Jones in 2004, currently being discussed in the media.

THE STATEMENT We Want Real Answers About 9/11 On August 31, 2004, Zogby International, the official North American political polling agency for Reuters, released a poll that found nearly half (49.3%) of New York City residents and 41% of those in New York state believe US leaders had foreknowledge of impending 9/11 attacks and “consciously failed” to act.

Of the New York City residents, 66% called for a new probe of unanswered questions by Congress or the New York Attorney General.

In connection with this news, we have assembled 100 notable Americans and 40 family members of those who died to sign this 9/11 Statement, which calls for immediate public attention to unanswered questions that suggest that people within the current administration may indeed have deliberately allowed 9/11 to happen, perhaps as a pretext for war.

We want truthful answers to questions such as: • Why were standard operating procedures for dealing with hijacked airliners not followed that day?

• Why were the extensive missile batteries and air defenses reportedly deployed around the Pentagon not activated during the attack?

• Why did the Secret Service allow Bush to complete his elementary school visit, apparently unconcerned about his safety or that of the schoolchildren?

• Why hasn’t a single person been fired, penalized, or reprimanded for the gross incompetence we witnessed that day?

• Why haven’t authorities in the U.S. and abroad published the results of multiple investigations into trading that strongly suggested foreknowledge of specific details of the 9/11 attacks, resulting in tens of millions of dollars of traceable gains?

• Why has Sibel Edmonds, a former FBI translator who claims to have knowledge of advance warnings, been publicly silenced with a gag order requested by Attorney General Ashcroft and granted by a Bush-appointed judge?

• How could Flight 77, which reportedly hit the Pentagon, have flown back towards Washington

D.C. for 40 minutes without being detected by the FAA’s radar or the even superior radar possessed by the US military?

• How were the FBI and CIA able to release the names and photos of the alleged hijackers within hours, as well as to visit houses, restaurants, and flight schools they were known to frequent?

• What happened to the over 20 documented warnings given our government by 14 foreign intelligence agencies or heads of state?

• Why did the Bush administration cover up the fact that the head of the Pakistani intelligence agency was in Washington the week of 9/11 and reportedly had $100,000 wired to Mohamed Atta, considered the ringleader of the hijackers?

• Why did the 911 Commission fail to address most of the questions posed by the families of the victims, in addition to almost all of the questions posed here?

• Why was Philip Zelikow chosen to be the Executive Director of the ostensibly independent 911 Commission although he had co-authored a book with Condoleezza Rice?

Those who are demanding deeper inquiry now number in the hundreds of thousands, including a former member of the first Bush administration, a retired Air Force colonel, a European parliamentarian, families of the victims, highly respected authors, investigative journalists, peace and justice leaders, former Pentagon staff, and the National Green Party.

As Americans of conscience, we ask for four things: • An immediate investigation by New York Attorney General Eliot Spitzer • Immediate investigation in Congressional Hearings.

• Media attention to scrutinize and investigate the evidence.

• The formation of a truly independent citizensbased inquiry.

• Given the importance of the coming election, we feel it is imperative that these questions be addressed publicly, honestly, and rigorously so that Americans may exercise their democratic rights with full awareness.

In closing, we pray and hope for the strength to approach this subject with wisdom and compassion so that we may heal from the wounds inflicted on that terrible day.

Signed,

Anthony Jones

Weekly Metal-Mania @ Just Bills!

By day this dive on Woodson Rd. in Overland sits idly with regulars and locals wishing to wet their whistles and share conversation, but on the weekends a metal transformation occurs. Equipment begins to roll in and cords are plugged into amps and electrical outlets. Then the ground begins to shake as the first chord is struck, metal at its sharpest then pounds the new clientele till the wee-hours of the night.

On this Saturday we showed for Sonic Recoil, a heavy hittin” group from here in St. Louis. Of course we were late, but the rest of the bands this night were razor sharp, as are the wells at Just Bills. This is the place to be for Metal any given weekend, but the shows start on time, around 7:30pm. Check out www.chunksofmeat. com for more show info at Just Bills.

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Being new to the area it was a few months before I learned of the thriving district along Cherokee Street, which is home to Apop Records & Binge And Purge. I was also unaware that these two independent stores support the local music scene and their community so heavily, with free live shows, huge sales, and even old fashioned BBQs. Even though I seldom eat at BBQs of this nature, opting to let others chow first, it was their MySpace bulletin with live music and BBQ that caught my eye. While I can only say the food that afternoon looked scrumptious, the music was a bite of St. Louis that filled the mind and soul.

Somehow I lost the photos of Cardiac Arrest, a scene of hardcore madness. We did manage to capture Medical Tourist behind Binge And Purge, a new-wave type of punk that had the backyard BBQ smokin’ like the dogs on the grill. Unfortunately, I also lost the flier with the first band we caught, featured to your right. I do apologize, but if you know these cats, give them some love, they certainly deserved it with the show they put on!

by Paul Ace Diamond “Huggy” Blow ROCK’N’ROLL ROADIES... This month’s Huggy Talk column is dedicated to all the unappreciated, hardworking dirty dudes doing the dirty work behind the scenes of a rock show -- the rock’n’roll roadies.

The thing I hate most about being in a band is loading gear. I really hate it. I really, really hate it. Every time I have to load cabinets and drums I start thinking how nice it would be to quit the band. This is where roadies come in handy...

Think about it... Every time you play a gig you load all your stuff into the van, unload it at the club, load it again after the show, and then unload it again back at the practice spot. Did I mention how much I hate loading gear? Having a roadie can help take the hassle out of being in a band, and all you really need is one good one.

The best roadies are friends who are “mentally challenged” and love your band’s music. A good roadie will meet you at your practice spot the night of the gig and will do all the humping for you. I always make sure that my roadies load my gear before they touch anything else. A good roadie will also diligently guard your gear at the club while the band goes off to drink some pre-show brewskis. A good roadie will wrap your guitar cords and pick up stray picks on stage after the gig while you shmooze with the ladies. A good roadie will also be willing to fight to the death to protect the band while on stage or off. If anyone spits on you while you are on stage playing, a good roadie will hustle them away and teach them a lesson in manners. A good roadie will also possess a van or car, although most “mentally challenged” roadies don’t have drivers licenses. A good roadie will also never ask you for a ride home after the show. He will take the bus or walk.

To keep your roadie working hard for you, there are a few things you can do in return: Put them on the guest list as “head roadie” (even if there is only one) at the shows. Maybe even give him one of the drummer’s free drink tickets. Let the roadie hang with you at the show -- he will feel cool hanging with a cool band. Give him a nickname -- roadies like that. Some of my bands’ roadies have been named “Goldfinger”, “Drunk Keith”, “Ratprick”, and “the Vulture”. Tell your roadie that they can have the “leftovers” after a gig (but of course, never let them). Don’t forget to add their name to your “thanks to” list when you put out a CD. Give them a pair of fingerless leather gloves (they sell ‘em at the 99 cent store) to make their job a little easier. Do these things and your roadie will love you and your band even more.

One thing you should never do... never, ever pay your roadie money for his services. If you do this he will expect it every time and it will cheapen his loyalty. Let him know that you’re doing him a favor letting him hang out with you. If your band has an exceptionally good night and makes a few hundred quid, maybe buy your roadie a nice cheeseburger. Most of my roadies have been unemployed schmoes who need something cool to add spice to their otherwise boring lives, and they appreciate their affiliation with the band.

That’s all I have on the topic for now. Now go get yourself a good roadie and let him do the dirty work for ya, unless, of course, you enjoy moving 100 pound cabinets. This may all sound coldhearted and mean, but rock and roll is a dirty business, man...

HUGGY BLOW’S ROCK STAR OF THE MONTH: PAUL STANLEY: If you’ve never heard of KISS then you must’ve either been born yesterday or you’ve been living under a rock your entire life. KISS is simply one of the greatest, most entertaining rock bands of all time. Not only did they have a slew of great rock anthem songs (mostly from the 1970s) but it was their stage show complete with make-up, costumes, and theatrics that made them the legends that they are. To me, Paul Stanley is the real heart and soul of KISS. He’s my personal favorite singer of the band (I do love his voice) but it’s his performance and energy on stage that sets him apart from most rock stars. Paul Stanley is simply one of the most entertaining showmen in rock and is truly inspiring to watch. In fact, if I ever need some inspiration to keep playing in a rock band myself, all I have to do is play a live KISS concert DVD and watch Paul Stanley sing, dance, and strut his sexy stuff on stage and I say, “THAT’S WHAT I WANNA DO!!!” In fact, I recently saw Paul Stanley play a solo concert in Seattle (in 2008) and the man still has it! Indeed, it is Paul Stanley’s charisma, pouty lips, hairy chest, and over-the-top exuberance on stage that makes him my Rock Star of the Month. Go get ‘em, Paul!

Paul Stanley!

METAL MANIA LIKE ONLY MEMPHIS CAN DELIVER Brought To St Louis By Sheri @ The Library - as seen and heard by Malice 706 LAFAYETTE AVE in the LOU myspace.com/thelibrarystl

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shamelessly admit that I’mma metal freak and I was in desperate need of a severe metal moment recently. I’ve had/am having a really bad day, week, month…it’s been bad for awhile. Work, real life and everyday bullshit are getting to me and I needz to escape. I needz Primal Scream Therapy…I don’t wanna talk about it, I don’t wanna think about it, I wanna get lost in this huge wall of sound for a couple of hours.

This was our first excursion out to The Library, which used to be just that. A short jaunt up a flight of stairs (a test in sobriety in itself) sits the bar, a former librarian’s checkout desk. Upstairs you can still see traces of where the bookshelves used to be around the Mezzanine seating, which has its own bar, and the wait staff is very attentive!! Great munchies, too. Get there early, because parking downtown really sucks, and stay late, as this is a great place to expand your social circle.

National acts such as LA Guns and my local boys Dust And Bones were in recently, and The Trip Daddys will be there in October. If you’re looking for a great place to just hang out – THIS is it. Very cool atmosphere, too – decorating the walls you’ll see drum heads, cymbals, guitars, and the Bitch Slap Barbie logo hanging alongside the Budweiser sign. Elaborate woodwork from the banisters to the ceiling, iron railings, and the bar itself, reveals a bar steeped in history, now a part of music history.

PROSEVERE, METAL MANIA LIKE ONLY MEMPHIS CAN DELIVER I first saw PROSEVERE play The New Daisy, opening for Egypt Central (if you don’t know who THAT band is, you really haven’t been paying attention!). These boys kick some serious ass, a hard edged, yet CLEAN sound, that’s not sludgy or murky. And at times, some really sweet tender love songs. The water in Memphis treats the boy’s pipes well.

Gary is the baby faced powerhouse with crazy wild hair, and did I mention the pipes on him? Eric has a gorgeous rack of flashy guitars, while Matt thumps king-hell out of his bass, and Rocky, god bless him on the drums. “Takin’ Names And Kickin’ Ass!!”

These guys are on their way UP, and this could very well be the last time they’ll be playing smaller venues. They’ve already played Memphis In May 09, shared the stage with other Memphis bands, Sore Eyes, One Less Reason, and as I’ve mentioned, Egypt Central. These guys ARE Memphis Metal, no need to look anywhere else.

It was such a thrill to see them HERE in my new hometown, bringin’ me a lil of that Memphis vibe that I been severely missin’.

According to their “About Me” section on MySpace, “Prosevere is the van with no air-conditioner that travels from New Orleans, LA to Little Rock, AR in the middle of July to play yet another show. Prosevere is the unshaved beards, the dirty clothes, and the sweat covered road cases that go in and out of venues night after night for little more than the love of playing music. Prosevere is the handshakes between the band members and those that appreciate passion. Prosevere is motivation.

Prosevere is dedication. Prosevere is rock 'n roll.”

I could not have said it better, myself! This is one of the hardest working metal bands to come out of Memphis in a very long time. Go check ‘em out. I’ve got them on my page on MySpace (www. myspace.comk4_space), on my player, and in my “Flavor Of The Week” spot in my top friends. Send em a friend request, tell em Malice sent ya!

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A Night Of Erotica, Dance And Comedy P

lans can change quickly when you run an independent publication, and if you can’t adapt, you die. The show at hand was ROXOTICA on August 29, and the venue was Grandel Theater, contrary to what had been advertised in The Sinner for two months. On our plate already sat The Arch Rival Roller Girls’ championship bout and their after party at Firebird. Adding another piece of meat to the plate this late can cause the best glutton to choke, luckily for us we’re always a bit hungry, and thirsty.

The original location for this event was Casa Loma Ballroom, a bit of a drive from home. Grandel Theater, on the other hand, is just a skip and moan from our sinful abode, which made the challenge of shifting plans and juggling events possible. Even with the last minute change, all seemed well, as if the gods seemed to be in our favor this night. And that they were, brother. Not only is Grandel Theater down the road from home, it’s a sinner’s haven, a unique balance of eloquence and erotica. Amen, brother!

This night became the perfect cliche, to never be fooled by the cover of a book. As we approached Grandel Theater I thought we were under-dressed, even in dress-jeans and buttoned shirts and sweaters. From the sidewalk Grandel Theater’s simple, yet grand architecture can appear a tad overwhelming, even intimidating for the ilk of blue & browncollars. All fears were quickly smothered, though, as we entered the main Hall (after hitting the wet bar first, of course).

This perfect balance that I mentioned prior was as evident upon entry as the erotica on stage under spotlight. Attendees were dressed from shorts and flip-flops to suits with ties and even in leather, and their age was easily as diverse.

We caught the second half of ROXOTICA, having missed some of the thirty-or-so performers for the night. Minutes into the first act we regretted missing the first half of the show, which included burlesque, pole dancing and fire acts. The pictures around this review speak loudly for what each of you witnessed or missed this night, whether that be acts of living blow-up dolls carried by their tuxedoed John’s or beautiful vixens painting each other’s skin, only to later roll their breast on a canvas as souvenirs for two lucky attendees. And who can forget the two then washing themselves free of paint in a kiddie pool? Talk about erotica! Amen again, Brother! Amen!

ROXOTICA is the masterpiece of Teya King and Andrea Morse, the owners of Outrageous Productions. These two gals have spent their lives performing for audiences around the world in a wide variety of settings, including band and recording projects, theatre, radio, stage and even film productions. Their years of experience easily shined this night, whether it was the overall production of the show or Teya singing along with the band, Guilty Pleasures, who took the audience back a few years to a day when glam-pop and long hair ruled the day.

For upcoming events and other information on Outrageous Productions, please visit www.outrageoustalent.com.

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myspace.com/stlouissinner

“We spent most of our time playing out in the mountains and trying not to attract mountain lions or bears. Listened to tons of music, especially during the hardest part of winter.

Johnny Cash will get you through any blizzard.” Valor my friend’s kids started to play some really cool punk songs and needed a bassist. They couldn’t find kids their own age so I said I would step in until they found one. Well, after 3 years, I guess written by Chuck Foster I’m stuck with the little shitheads.”

These youngsters take their punk seriously, too. For example, they mention the fallacy of what they label, “Hot Topic Punk” on their MySpace page. Valor says the kids in his neighborhood listen to stuff like ICP and Green Day, confusing it with punk. “There are kids wearing Ramones T-shirts because they’re ‘in style’, but they are listening to Twiztid and other crap like that. They will listen to or wear whatever the mall says. I try to get my friends to listen to real music. I like to share The Bad Brains, Tom Waits, old school ska, stuff they won’t hear on mainstream radio and they can’t buy at Hot Topic.” Aspen adds to that, saying Hot Topic tried to turn punk into a fad, but says real Punk music is in the soul.

When it comes to musical influences Aspen mentions Johnny Cash and Tom Waits, and really likes local bands Mazeltov Cocktails, Armatron and the old Malchicks. Benton throws out Suicidal Tendencies, but admits to liking everything from Wanda Jackson to Billy Childish. He says that his favorite local band is AYCE (All You Can Eat), adding that “Kevin is the coolest front man EVAR.” Valor says his first influence was The Misfits, but also cites The Bad Brains, D.I., The Vandals and old California punk. His favorite local bands are Bob Reuter’s Alley Ghost, Maximum Effort, The Rum Drum Ramblers and The Pubes.

With lyrics such as these: “So one night I was was sitting at Mamacitas one night talking that “Johnny Cash will get you through any local music with owner Tom Woolever when blizzard.” Aspen agreed saying it was cold and playing my CD release party and this guard walks up to me and he’s like, ‘Hey, your too small too he mentioned Say Uncle. At the time he explained small, all the while with a smile upon his face. that they were a three piece punk band, with two Aspen says long before the lonely days and be here!’ And I’m like, this is my show Motherof the members, brothers Valor and Aspen, only cold nights in the winnebago that he was actually Fucker! Whatever!!” I had to ask the band about being 12 and 13-years-old. I had been wanting to listening to music before he was born, that his their song writing. Valor says he walks around cover a young local band, but I was thinking high mom used to put headphones on her belly when with an acoustic most of the time, when he isn’t school kids, not middle school. I was sure that Say she was pregnant with him. But his first touch of skating. He even says that he has even skated and played at the same time but it doesn’t Uncle would be a novel piece, really work. but their age would certainly On a serious note, Valor says that limit the band’s experience and him and Aspen do most of the writing true punk sound to be taken but then Benton comes in and screws it seriously. Tom assured me that all up – once again having a little fun these kids were pretty damned at Benton’s expense. Honestly, he says good. After watching their CD that it’s from that point that the songs release at Just Bills on YouTube, come around. And for the cursing in the I felt it was time for me to kneel lyrics, Valor says that it’s a rarity, but he and say, “uncle”. thought it was appropriate at their CD Tom was a bit off on their A Sinful thanks to Rampriders Skate Park for allowing us to shoot & skate release party for their opening song. ages, as lead guitarist and “I did it for the shock value. Grandma vocalist Valor recently turned 13, and his brother Aspen, on drums, is now 14-years- the guitar came a few years later after one of their didn’t like it but she gets it.” old. And only a few years senior is Uncle Benton mom’s band practices. He says that her bassist He added that they don’t write at the age of 23. With only one member in the taught him the bass line to a Stooges song and profanity into their songs but band old enough to purchase cigarettes and booze, he was hooked from there on out. The brother’s says he will curse on covers to and to enter most venues, it’s easy to first assume first stage performance, though, was at the end stay true to the song, but it isn’t that this band is just a novelty, nothing more. of a Horrorshow Malchicks set at the old Creepy often. Aspen then laughs and That is the wrong assumption when it comes to Crawl when they were 9 and 10. “We played says, “I’m cussing back there Say Uncle. This band is better than “pretty damn ‘Crucified’ by Agnostic Front and the crowd really but no one can hear me.”

One quality that stood good” for their ages, easily matching most local liked it.” Valor was originally the drummer, but punks twice their age in song writing and skill. Of has since swapped that role with Aspen, saying out about these kids beyond course, once you know the entire story of these that he quickly learned enough about the drums their music and true punk two kids and uncle Benton, it’s easy to understand to know that he digged the guitar more. He still appearance, was their perfect how they have progressed into the punk band they fools around on the drums, and says that him and spelling and grammar for these are today.

Aspen are contemplating a song where the two questions. Their answers were more coherent than musicians On Say Uncle’s MySpace page their “About will switch places in the middle of a set.

Me” section mentions the time they spent on Benton’s spot on bass is the piece that I have interviewed twice the road living in a winnebago, listening to an completes this punk trio. Benton says that his their age, a trait not typically array of music since their mother, Kitty, was first record was Harley Davidson’s Road Songs, associated with punks. I asked once a musician. At first I thought this might be featuring bands like WASP, Foghat and REO, but Aspen and Valor what it’s like a promotional line, to pump the hard-luck life it was an Earth Crisis album and a skateboard to be in a band and deal with the that many famous musicians have lived. Not so, given to him by his brother that led him to mental and social pressures of says Valor. He says that his time on the road was punk. Even though he couldn’t skate, he says he school, like grades, future plans, “beautiful but very isolated” and that they spent loved the music. From there he began playing in bullies and, of course, girls? most of their time trying to avoid mountain lions Haynus Anus (Val asks Benton if he is serious), Aspen says him and his brother and bears. He said that they did listen to a lot of No label, The Horrorshow Malchicks, and other are home schooled, but that they music through the hardest parts of winter, noting side projects with friends here and there. “Then do have a few “haters” out there.

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And he says that has an “awesome girlfriend” who attends almost all of their shows, with her mother of course. Valor says that he doesn’t tell girls that he’s in a band, to avoid those young groupies who only like him for being in a band. He says that he has a cool chick now, but she knew he was in a band, so he’s waiting it out – once again, a bit of humor interjected into a serious response.

We also talked about the St. Louis punk scene, and what the band thought of it. Valor already acknowledges that not enough people are coming to random shows. “There don’t seem to be any kids our age coming up into it. Kids now are at Hot Topic buying trip pants, not going to shows.”

Aspen finishes his thoughts with, “Posers suck!” and Benton just asks, “There’s a punk scene here?”

Regardless of scenes and haters or groupies and school, Aspen and Valor agree that the whole thing so far has been positive, having met so many cool people and having had the chance to jam with so many other musicians. The only downside was a bad experience with a crappy promoter a few years back, so they admit it was weird for a minute.

I asked Say Uncle about their self-titled CD, a must have for fans of Punk! It was recorded by Valor- Mario Viele, who the guys say is awesome!

The band says there’s another album in the works, but Aspen says, “Recording is more like work.

Playing shows is like playing.” And Valor warns that they’ll keep pushing them out until you guys start buying them, which he adds can be purchased through the band, Vintage Vinyl and on the web.

Say Uncle’s next show is at Mamacita’s on Saturday, September 26th. It’s an all day party of sorts and they will be playing the main stage at 6:30. The guys says they’ll be sharing the stage with numerous other great acts, like Bob Reuter’s band and Reverend Whiskey Richard And The Buster Hyman Band. They also recommend the pork torta for a snack while there.

Last I asked the band if they had any last words or shouts to any friends or family? Valor wanted to first mention Liam, their real punk rock friend, then Freedom (Good to be in the same state again) and DeQuin...”and I’d like to shout out to Renaissance Roofing to give our Dad a raise! We need studio money!” Aspen only said, Lurves to Kat, and Benton just wanted to say Hi Mom. To find more about this new punk band, check them out on MySpace at www.myspace.com/ sayunclestl. Before doing so, remember to take this band seriously – if not, you may just find yourself on your knees saying Uncle to a couple of Punk teens!

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GenXX Invades

A

few months ago when Carrie Harris introduced Conspiracy to St. Louis’ more underground crowd at Club Lit on North Broadway, it quickly became the place to be on the third Saturday of the month.

Burlesque, rotating Djs, Erotica, fire performances, live body painting, photography, all you could drink for one price, and much, much more became the norm for this evening, but then tragedy struck over some licensing issues and the night abruptly came to an end.

Luckily for St. Louis and us sinners, Carrie has revived this event at Atomic Cowboy’s new stage, The Fox Hole.

After the raid at Club Lit Carrie says she was determined to keep the momentum of Conspiracy going, and that by luck, her friend from Tampa was looking for a show in the area that night – that friend being none other than Gen XX of Genitorturers! For those unfamiliar with the music and off-the-wall stage antics of Gen XX, know that you are truly sheltered.

With or without Genitorturers backing Gen’s dominant vocals, she is a site to witness on stage.

She adds an anything-goes stage presence to each show, which this night included St. Louis’ own Greta Garter and Gogo McGregor beside her. And by anything goes, I mean anything from a body being disemboweled while Gen screams lyrics from above to Ol’ Lucifer himself coming on stage and raping a nun while she edges him on.

Beyond the highly-anticipated performance of Gen XX, Carrie also managed to bring the other trademark acts of Conspiracy to The Fox Hole. One area was dedicated to the Goth/ Industrial/EBM scene in the Fox Hole, the back patio featured Rockabilly, and her infamous fetish playground was under the stars on the deck outside The Fox Hole. Best of all, Carrie played the raid of Club Lit up by having some sexy ladies dressed as cops wondering around, giving citations for being naughty and passing out free shots. It was by far, one of the better shows that we’ve attended here in the past seven months.

Carrie says that Conspiracy will remain at Atomic Cowboy for the time being, and that the next one on September 19th will even be bigger as she’s taking over the entire venue – and it’s free! It’s also the Grand Opening of The Fox Hole with Seven Shot Screamers, Trip Daddys, Red Light Runners, Dj Al Swacker, Dj 486 and SubRosa in the Lounge spinning an eclectic mix of sexy rock. Forensic & Chrome 242 will also be mixing in some Future Pop, EBM & Darkwave on the patio. And last for the night, Atomic Cowboy will also be home of the Official Femme Fatality After Party and Official Grove Fest After Party!

Well, we know where we’ll be on the 19th, how about you?

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HELLO, ST. LOUIS!... AND WELCOME TO THE SECOND EPISODE OF

OUR SINFUL COMMUNITY!

I’m still your host, Chet Chesterson, and every month we feature some of your local businesses with a bit of sinful flare to them. So all you in the audience please stand up and give yourselves a round of applause for supporting your sinful community, and all you folks out there watching on the boob-tube, give yourself a pat on the back, too. You all deserve it!

The WolfPack I tell you what, folks. It’s going to be a challenge to beat last month’s guests, and Tori Berdeaux from Beauty Bar and Salon. But I believe the little fireball backstage might just surprise us. So, come on out Yvonne Loveland!

Everyone give Yvonne a big round of applause for taking time out of her busy schedule to join us for a few minutes. I know your a busy woman, Yvonne, so let’s get right to it. What is this Wolf Pack all about?

Well, thanks for having me, Chet. My other half and I started the Wolfpack in October of last year. We originally decided to create it due to the fact that there was no support anywhere. I have been in the music scene for the last 14 years and was honestly disgusted by what I was seeing. I have never taken from any of my local bands, whether it be from their ticket sales or a percent of the door. Though there are so many promoters in the St. Louis area that do. I wanted to quit... then we came up with the idea of working with bands that wanted to really go... to travel... to push... to support... and to respect other local musicians.

WOW, Yvonne! Some pretty harsh words about the music scene. And I thought it was all candy and cupcakes and everything nice. But what’s the real premise of The Wolfpack?

Good question, Chet. The Wolfpack is basically an organization that is set up for the local music scene across the Midwest. A support system with bands of different genres to help in a few different ways. We have been very segregated in the sense that rock has its own followers and metal has its own. However, with life and the economy the way it is now, and everyone being so mixed, we have decided to push the boundaries of all we know of musicians and their lifestyles. The venues are dying and so are many of the bands that were once strong and well known, The labels are not doing anything as a whole for bands anymore and it is up to them to push their music, merch and in general everything for themselves. I have made the Wolfpack an avenue of help and support for all of them that want it and are willing to push.

I tell you what, Yvonne. That’s an interesting take on the music scene, even more so after hearing all the issues young bands face. How’s this approach taking off so far?

Well, Chet. To be honest, I see the Wolfpack traveling through the Midwest like a disease. I have bands as far as Texas and up through Ohio all the way to Colorado that want the same thing and are willing to work for it. I also have business sponsors that are working with us to help the bands in their fight for success and in turn is helping with the economy in the musical industry. We have 12 Bar Studios from the Westport Industrial area from MO helping out bands that are in so dire need of recording for a very small price as long as they are Wolfpack. Out in Rockford Illinois we have a couple that owns 815 Buttons that do everything from Buttons and bottle openers to T-shirts for such a small cost that is almost beyond compare. These business to name just a few are in link to the Wolfpack as sponsors and we open the doors to any other ones that are wanting to work with us as well. This organization will push its limits as long as there are people that want to help each other out!

My Goodness Yvonne, that’s great news for all. So any last thoughts for our audience today?

Of course, Chet. I just want to say thanks to all of those who show support and are not in either the bands or the business blocks... but are just everyday fans and friends of these musicians who do all that they can to support. And remember to stand tall and believe in yourselves. Music is in our hearts and our dreams and without it the world would be a very dull place!

You got that right, Yvonne. Thanks for stopping in today. And until next month, check out Myspace.com/voodooqueenwolfpack or Myspace.com/vqmanagement for more info on The Wolfpack!

GET YOUR HOOLA HOOPS READY! WHAT HAPPENS WHEN HOOPS, MUSIC, AND ART COME TOGETHER? A REVOLUTION OF THE HOOP! Hoop Revolution, aka World Hoop Day, is having a night of mayhem! This Revolution will take place at the Koken Art Factory (2500 Ohio Avenue / www.kokenartfactory.com). Entry is all ages and is $14 at the door. Doors Open @ 6:30pm and Music runs from 7pm until 1am.

Ana Sia headlines this event with her amazing interpretation of electronic music hailing from San Francisco. Madahoochi, a well known local act, will be bring original psychedelis rock and roll energy. Also performing is Thumpasaurus, a Dj from St. Louis that has recently emerged on the scene with a vengeance, playing all over town. The Hoop Revolution Art Show will feature St. Louis art talents such as Craig Downs and the Artists of Concrete Ocean Art Gallery. Some of the art featured will have a “HOOP” theme. Performance Art includes the St. Louis Hoop Club, Fire Technicians and Live Art! Also there will be food and craft vendors.

This special event will celebrate the “hula” hoop. Since 2006, World Hoop Day has been dedicated to bringing dance, exercise and toy hoops to under-privileged children living in extreme poverty and underdeveloped neighborhoods of our world. Here in St. Louis the STL Hoop Club will be donating hoops to local schools and offering instructional classes.

Other attractions for the evening will include performances by the STL Hoop Club. The Fire Technicians will also be heating things up outside throughout the evening. Several craft and vending booths will be set up to share interesting handmade creations and Triple Jam Production will be bringing a professional light show.

I invite everyone to join in this special night of music and art to celebrate the hoop!

For More Information: www.kokenartfactory.com

V I S U A L A RT O P E N I N G S Create St. Louis Gateway Gallery DURING THE CLAYTON ART FAIR Mixed media painter JO REZNY McCREDIE, oil painter NANCY FRIEDERICH, and the dynamic painting partnership of MARLENE LEWIS and HENRYK PTASIEWICZ. Opening Reception Sept 11 6-9 pm.

Exhibit runs from Aug 28 through Sept 26, 2009 Open before, during and after CLAYTON ART FAIR hours: Sept 11 Fri 11 am -10 pm , Sept 12 Sat 9 am - 10 pm, Sept 13 Sun 9 am -5 pm. For more information go to www.gatewaygalleryonline.com Gateway Gallery 7921 Forsyth Blvd. Clayton, MO 63105 314 503 3880

ion, theater, dance, vocal and instrumental music, television, and radio, as well as a full range of academic subjects.

Urban Asia Atrium Gallery Works by Kirk Pedersen. Urban Asia will feature paintings and photography drawn from Pedersen’s recent journies. Opening September 11, 2009 6-9pm which includes a book signing by the artist. Exhibition continues through November 8th. More Info: www. atriumgallery.net

Spoked!

Opening September 4th 7-10pm & September 5th Opening 7-10pm. Admission is free. Refreshments will be provided, featuring Schlafly beer.

Backpack Blues: Art by Students of Central Visual and Performing Arts High School September 25, 2009 – February 6, 2010 This exhibition by students of Central Visual and Performing Arts High School celebrates the rich legacy of blues music.

Organized as a companion to the Legends of St. Louis Blues Music exhibit in the History of Jazz Gallery, the students have created vibrant works in many media including painting, ceramics, drawing and photography. Musicians like Muddy Waters, Robert Johnson and even Jimi Hendrix and Billie Holiday, among others, are represented. A St. Louis City school, Central VPA is located at the corner of Kingshighway Boulevard and Arsenal Street and fosters a rigorous academic curriculum with an environment of artistic excellence. The school offers visual arts, photography, fash-

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Opening Reception: Friday, September 25, 5 – 7 p.m.

More Info www.thesheldon.org/galleries.asp

Sukanya Mani, Thomas DeClue, Thomas Hoyt, Tim Bottchen, Tim Eisenhoffer, Tony DiMattia, William C Hutton Jr., also included; S.A.M.’s 15 residential artists in a diversity of media. What an exciting event!!

More Info: www.soulardartmarket.com

LUISA MESA September 11 – October 10, 2009 Opening Reception Friday, September 11th from 5-8 pm

Grove Fest Saturday, September 19, 4-10pm

Duane Reed Gallery, 4729 McPherson Ave 63105 info@Duaneredgallery.com PH 314-361-4100 www.duanereedgallery.com

Exhibition runs through October 2nd. This bicycle themed exhibition works in conjunction with the Tour of Missouri, which is a world-class cycling event, We sought out bicycle themed artworks from some of the area’s most talented and respected artists for inclusion in our show. Our gallery is on the race route and we have special hours and events planned that are sure to draw a crowd. The eyes of the world will be looking our way and we’re gearing up for the liveliest show this town has seen. Get stoked about Spoked!

Participating Artists include: DeVill, Angela Ament, Brei Bird, Brian Anderson, Daniel Elavsky, Danny Reise, Dennis Fickinger, Elizabeth A. Harris, Greg Kluempers, Greg Mattchick, Jeff C. Williams, Jerrianne Wallace, Jim Trotter, Jim True, Kelcey Towell, Kelsey Cook, Marc Semanoff, Mark D’Harlingue, Matt James, Monica Rose, Naomi Runtz, Neil E. Das, Nikki, Patrick Andrew Adams, Quenton Colby, Rena Hasse, Rosie Phillips, Sam Mills, Sarah Ansell, Scott Ernst, Stephen Pollihan, Steve Truesdell,

Live Art, Live Music, Eats and MORE! You do not want to miss this event!

Sites of the Grove will have Art Dimensions Artists Village which will feature large mural painting - Live Art Contest - Grand Prizes donated by Big Shark Bicycles! Art Vendors Galore .

Taste of the Grove will feature sample food from all the great eateries in St. Louis’ hottest dining destinations.

Sounds of the Grove will feature on the Main Stage UDI and his fellow villagers, earthworms with fresh heir, Dogtown Allstars, The Brothers Lazaroff, Teddy Pressberg. DJ’s: DJ Uptown, Mark Lewis, DJ Shae Marie, DJ Who?, DJ Landyn, Beat Streets (Alejan, BMoney & G.Wiz, and London Calling’s own DJ Nick O Other Attractions include: Zombie Squad benefitting Operation Food Outreach, Future Legend skaters, Arch Rival Roller Girls, Freakers Ball featuring Clownvis Presley More Info: www.grovefest.org

myspace.com/stlouissinner

er Fost uck y Ch

The real challenge I face when finding words to describe Pl@stic’s work is figuring out where to begin. Unlike painters and photographers, who are often limited to their one particular style of art, Pl@stic is bound by few limitations. He sketches, uses oils, draws with chalk, sprays graffiti and even paints flesh with markers, each phase at a level of its own. Understanding his talent is an enigma, as is describing it.

As Cliche as it sounds, Pl@stic developed an interest for art at a very early age, remembering days long ago when the adults played Spades as he sat with paper plates and black sharpies. “I was obsessed with anatomy since I couldn’t think of anything else more creative on this planet. Anatomy of man and animal and all in between are the most creative pieces of art on this planet.” Pl@stic believes that artists are always trying to capture it in some way, whether it be through painting, music, poetry, sculpture, etc. “ We can make it dark and disturbing. Sexy and alluring. Sad and gloomy. Playful and funny. And so on... But all we can do is compliment it and hopefully make others appreciate it like we do.”

Pl@stic’s art has evolved into something far more grand than simple doodles on the back of paper plates, but it’s those days that has helped define who he is as an artist today. After doing a variety of fine art shows and “serious art” in his teens and early 20s, Pl@stic discovered street art as a way to escape. He says that he never went out to do it for malicious reasons, that he just liked to draw and it was nice to get away from drawing on paper and painting on canvas. The fine art world made Pl@stic feel trapped, like his youthful tools of crayons and chalk weren’t good enough anymore. “Stupid, pretentious, adult rules that society made law of for fine art to be considered proper” just wasn’t for him, even though he still has a lot of respect for fine art.

Pl@stic is known around the club scenes for his live body art.

He considers this form to be a basic concept, one that is fueled by other artists, musicians and Djs of all genres. He first started live body art in the Hip-Hop scene, but says he later discovered that Heavy Metal can make you tap into other styles and energy that doesn’t flow well to funk jams. He adds that a lot of people say they like the feeling of having their skin painted. He doesn’t deny the art being sexual. “It’s like touching someone with out touching them...You can make people feel comfortable.

Sexy. Beautiful. More then they realize they already are.”

When we met about the cover shot, Pl@stic mentioned the concept of him body painting some models to keep with the sexual theme off past covers. I agreed. But it wasn’t until Mary Elizabeth of Sinifis offered her sultry temple to be used as a canvas that the entire scheme came together. After that Pl@stic thought of making it a musician-style theme blended with his art. His first choice was Jimmy from Bare Knuckle Conflict since his look just fit the cover and theme. Two weeks later we had our first body painted rock cover, and a great one, at that!

You can find Pl@stic September 11-13 at Clayton Art Fair in the JBUCKS booth rockin’ out art. He says, “Yeah it’s a crazy concept but I love adventures out of the norm when it comes to art.” And he will also be part of the live art wars during the Taste of St. Louis in Oct. Last but not least, you can find more of this enigma on MySpace at: www. myspace.com/plasticbradley.

writ ten b

Th

nful Ar t of i S e

review by Robbie

Hays

THOSE DIRTY BASTERDS SPOILER ALERT!!!

Do not read if you have not seen Inglourious Basterds, or if you do not want the ending spoiled. Unless you’re one of the many people who no longer care about spoiling the ending of anything, in which case, fuck you! You’re the reason I can no longer read anything about something I want to see, for fear of knowing more than I want to know.

You’re ruining film and television, and I hate you all!

Getting the obvious critique out of the way first, Quentin Tarantino’s latest film, Inglourious Basterds, is slow, but it is intentionally slow. This is, like the director’s last film, Kill Bill: Vol. 2, a modern spaghetti Western, which means a slow pace, a cast of morally questionable characters, and slow build-ups to explosive action sequences.

At times throughout Basterds, these build-ups can be infuriating. The audience knows what’s coming, but the film denies the inevitable climax like an annoying, teasing lover. One scene in particular, in a French pub filled with Nazi soldiers, becomes so talky and takes so long I was waiting for someone in the audience to yell out “Get on with it!”

However, this scene, and others that feel drawn out and take a bit too long, ends in a brilliantly bloody conclusion that is, like the film itself, worth the wait.

Plot-wise (for anyone who’s been living in a cave for the last few months), the film follows the brutal exploits of a group of Jewish-American soldiers who go into Nazi-controlled France, for the specific purpose of “killin’ Nazis.” Led by Lt. Aldo Raine (Brad Pitt, with a Southern moonshiner twang that’s so ridiculous you can’t help but love it) and Sgt. Donny Donowitz (Eli Roth, who might want to stick to directing from here on out), the group tears through France, become infamous enough to gain the attention of Adolf Hitler, and earn their nickname of the Basterds.

Keeping in line with the spaghetti Westerns of Sergio Leone, the film’s characters are ambiguous when it comes to morals. The whole reason the Basterds go to France at all is to be as brutal to the Nazis as the Nazis have been to everyone else. You can pick your cliché for this reasoning: “Turn about’s fair play,” “All’s fair in love and war,” or even “Hell, they’re Nazis, who gives a fuck?”

(Not technically a cliché, but true nonetheless).

Liza Schwarzbaum refers to Tarantino “simultaneously glorifying (sic) and deconstructing (sic) genre;” in this case, World War II films, noir, action movies, and spaghetti Westerns. However, QT isn’t deconstructing genres and other films so much as he is putting them into a blender in his imagination, mixing them up, and then producing what has become his personal style of filmmaking, which is really just pieces of a lot of other films thrown together to make a whole picture.

Not that I don’t like Tarantino or this movie, I’m only making the point that this is not a deconstruction of genres or generic expectations, it’s more of an amalgamation (look it up!) of familiar traits. Take Pitt’s character for instance. With Aldo’s cornpone accent, he could be Slim Pickens giving his “Aww, shucks” speeches in Dr. Strangelove right up until he rides a nuclear missile straight into the ground thus destroying most of the human race (thanks a lot, jackass). Pitt’s character screams Western/ war movie hero, which is hardly ever close to someone who lived in the actual Old West or fought in a real war.

Combined with this image of a traditional fictional hero is Aldo’s complete lack of moral restraint when dealing with anyone not among his own men: the Basterds

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take scalps, beat their prisoners to death with a baseball bat, and carve swastikas in the foreheads of anyone they let live. But, it’s Brad Pitt killing Nazis, so it’s automatically alright. Seriously, that’s what Tarantino assumes with this movie: that audiences are automatically going to like Brad Pitt because he’s Brad Pitt and not give a damn about the Nazis, because they’re Nazis.

This absence of morals in the hero is a spaghetti Western trait, best seen in The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. In the film, the title pops up piecemeal, as the characters the audience is meant to consider good, bad, and ugly first show up onscreen. Thus, Clint Eastwood is good, because the title says he’s good, Lee Van Cleef is bad because the film says he’s bad, and Eli Wallach is ugly because… well, actually he is unattractive, but you see my point. Similarly, in Basterds, Brad Pitt and his men are good and all Nazis are bad, despite anything any of them do; including slaughter an entire cinema filled with Nazis, their women, and any random people that happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

In terms of film influences, this ending could be The Dirty Dozen’s finale mixed with The Wild Bunch, capped off with a nice, big explosion. However, consistent with the film’s moral ambiguity, the Basterds are more bloodthirsty and sadistic than the Dozen or the Bunch.

After killing Hitler and Goebbels (yes, QT kills Hitler and Goebbels!), instead of just letting the crowd burn, the two last Basterds standing mow them down with automatic weapons as they head for the exits, the whole time waiting for the bombs strapped to their ankles to go off and blow everyone left alive straight to hell.

This scene might make one rethink films like The Dirty Dozen. After all, the Dozen kill plenty of women just like the Basterds; however, at no point does Jim Brown look like he’s enjoying his job. Eli Roth, on the other hand, fires indiscriminately into a crowd with a smirk that says, “I’m loving every minute of this.”

You assume going into Basterds, as you have going into numerous other WWII films, that you can guess how it’s going to end, based on historical facts. Well, you’re wrong. You’re not watching a usual WWII film, you’re watching QT’s WWII film, and you don’t know how this one’s going to end until you see it for yourself (or you learn the ending beforehand, you pricks!).

One last thing I have to mention about the film is the acting. Brad Pitt’s dark-comedic hero is brilliant, and even if Roth’s attempt at a New York accent (at least, I think that’s what he was going for) fails miserably, it is brief and he barely speaks for most of the rest of the film. Also, while Christoph Waltz is soaking up much of the critical attention for his interesting yet despicable Col. Hans Lando (a.k.a. the “Jew hunter”), I think more people should be talking about French actress Melanie Laurent’s Shosanna Dreyfuss, who stumbles into an opportunity to get revenge on the Nazis for killing her family. Not to besmirch Waltz (who makes an amazing villain), but Laurent’s soulful avenger was the most moving role of the film.

Like the aforementioned teasing lover, Inglourious Basterds is worth waiting for, and it ends with a shattering climax that leaves you completely satisfied. And it’s got Brad Pitt killing Nazis, how can you possibly go wrong?

THE SINNER & present a Sinful Offer to All Our Fans

Enter to win an UNRATED copy of The Last House On The Left To enter, email chuck@theseattlesinner.com

Winners announced September 30th

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by Matthew Gorman

I

n the world of true hauntings and ghost hunting it seems that at every turn somewhere or some place is being heralded as the most haunted this or the most haunted that. I’ve been known to employ such superlatives. The true measure of how haunted a locale might be may forever remain within the realm of the subjective. And yet, when one is confronted by the sheer number of hauntings in the small river town of Alton, Illinois, one almost can’t help but concede to the town’s moniker of “The Most Haunted Small Town in America.”

The town of Alton sits along the banks of the Mississippi River about 15 miles from St. Louis.

Once referred to by Mark Twain as “a dismal little river town”, at one time Alton was actually growing faster than St. Louis. That is, until a group of St. Louis businessmen concocted a plan to establish another town to compete with Alton and draw business away from it. The result of this plan was Grafton, Illinois. Alton was eventually incorporated as a city but its less than 40,000 residents belie this fact. To this day locals and visitors alike still refer to Alton as a ‘town’.

Alton has a rich history filled with all manner of triumph and tragedy. Alton, for example, was one of many stops on the Underground Railroad as it sought to deliver former slaves to freedom in the North. It was also in Alton that Elijah P. Lovejoy, a printer and avowed abolitionist, became the abolition movement’s first martyr after being murdered by a mob of slavery proponents.

The town was also the site of a Union prison during the Civil War, housing many captured Confederate soldiers. The conditions at the prison were said to often be less than humane. Many prisoners met with their untimely death due to the squalid conditions, torture, and even outright murder by the guards or other inmates. As we will see later, the former prison may be one of the largest factors contributing to the mass of hauntings that plague the town of Alton to this very day.

During the prohibition era, Alton served as a refuge for bands of bootleggers looking to keep a low profile from the law. This criminal element was responsible for a series of gang-related murders during this time. Many of their victim’s bodies were dumped into the muddy waters of the Mississippi.

It is undoubtedly this sordid history that has left the town with more than a few tales of otherworldly inhabitation within the historical buildings and homes that still stand throughout Alton today.

One of the oldest haunted sites in Alton is a former hotel known as The Mansion House.

Originally constructed in 1834 by one Captain Botkin, the good Captain operated The Mansion House as a hotel for many years. In 1864, during a smallpox epidemic, the building was turned in a hospital (Alton’s first as a matter of fact) to treat those afflicted with the disease. Many died within the walls of the Mansion House and witnesses say that their ghosts still roam the rooms and hallways of the edifice today.

But the most prominent specter still holding court at The Mansion House is that of Tom Boothby who lived as a shut-in inside a downstairs room at the hotel for several years. Boothby had been an Indian fighter during the Indian battles of the war of 1812. Guests at the hotel were often awakened in the dead of night by Boothby’s screams that the hordes of Indians he had killed were coming for him. One night his screams became pleas for help as he cried that the Indians had finally found him.

He was found dead with his one hand (he’d lost one of his arms in the war) strangling his own throat. His ghostly cries of terror and frantic footsteps can still be heard in The Mansion House today.

The Enos Apartment building on Third Street in Alton was originally a private residence and a stop on the “Underground Railroad.” This mansion was once the home to Nathaniel Hanson, a wealthy farm implement manufacturer and abolitionist, who built the home in 1857. When the mansion was erected, it was built with a series of tunnels and hiding places

originating from the home’s basement and running under Third Street. While the “Railroad” was designed to aid escaping slaves, many met with their deaths from factors such as disease, injury, and malnutrition along the way. It is believed that the ghosts haunting the basement of this former home are those of fleeing slaves that never quite made it to freedom.

The upstairs of the mansion is haunted as well, but by a different group of people. In 1911, Dr. W.H. Enos purchased the home and converted it into a sanitarium for the treatment of tuberculosis.

Unfortunately for many of the afflicted, survival rates were extremely low as tuberculosis was still basically an incurable disease at the time. Many perished here, and their spirits still play havoc with the tenants of what is now an apartment building.

Phantom footsteps are heard, doors open and close by themselves, lights turn on and off unexpectedly, and objects disappear only to reappear days later in strange places. Some believe it is the puckish ghost of a small child performing this latter type of phenomenon, as the objects tend to be small and attractive things such as shiny keys and jewelry.

Another historic Alton building with ghostly goings on is The Franklin House. This building was originally constructed in 1836 to house the headquarters of an insurance company but was converted into a luxury hotel just four years later.

The Franklin House was quite posh and Abraham Lincoln even stayed there once with his wife Mary Todd, inspiring the hotel’s owners to change the hotel’s name to The Lincoln House for a period of time.

It was during such time that a traveling salesman and his family stayed at the hotel, and the man’s young daughter met with tragedy after chasing a ball into the busy street in front of the hotel.

She was hit by a wagon and killed instantly.

Soon after, her ghost began to haunt the hotel, playing pranks upon the guests and tugging at their clothes. McPike Mansion located on Alby St. She would move objects as well, and appear as a full-blown apparition to the frightened bewilderment of many a guest and staff member. Her ghost continues to haunt the building to this very day.

The ghost of a pastor who committed suicide in the church’s sanctuary in 1934 haunts Alton’s First Unitarian Church. Rev. Phillip Mercer, hung himself for unknown reasons at the age of 48. His ghost is extremely active and is one of the more frequently encountered spooks in this town full of ghosts. The church’s basement is thought to be haunted by a different entity all together about which little is known.

The former Milton School in Alton is allegedly haunted by the ghost of a young girl who had been a student there as well as by the ghost of the janitor that raped and murdered the girl sometime in the 1930s. He had hung himself after being hounded by the police as they pursued the case. A scrawled note on the floor beneath his hanging corpse declared quite succinctly “I did it”.

Employees at the Intaglio Design factory that now occupies the space (the school closed in 1984 after being open for 80 years) have reported encounters with both the benign spirit of the young girl as well as with the malevolent and unsettling ghost of the sinister janitor. How horrible it must be

if the poor girl can’t escape her rapist and murderer even in death.

Another haunted institute of learning in Alton is the Lewis and Clark Community College. The ghost of former principal Harriet Haskell is thought to haunt the college, particularly the library. Haskell was a beloved principal at the institution when it was called Monticello College, an all girls’ school founded in 1838. Haskell Alton Prison (Credit: Illinois State Library) passed away in 1907 and reports of ghostly activity have surrounded the campus ever since. Lights and faucets turn on upstairs windows at people on the lawn below.

Another ghost is thought to be that of a and off by themselves and an old steam-powered elevator travels up and down the floors at night domestic servant named Sarah who lived and when no one is there to operate it. In the library that worked in the home at one time. She announces her Haskell was so fond of in life, people have felt the presence with the strong odor of lilac and she often ghost touch them upon the shoulder and Haskell’s touches people who visit the house. In addition, apparition has been seen there as well. On the day there seems to be an ominous, perhaps even that Monticello was changed into Lewis and Clark malevolent, entity that occupies the basement and College in 1971, one of the oldest and largest trees the even deeper wine cellar. The phantom footsteps on campus fell over although there was no wind or of a spirit and a door opening on its own were storm. Many people claimed it was Haskell’s ghost captured on video down in the basement by a team of ghost hunters at one point. Many people have expressing her displeasure with the change.

Located in Alton’s old downtown, the Mineral strong feelings of uneasiness or even terror when Springs Hotel is considered to be one of the most they venture into these subterranean regions of the haunted spots in town. Opened in June of 1914, home. The mansion has fallen into a state of abject the hotel gets its name from a naturally occurring disrepair but the home’s new owners are attempting mineral spring that was found when the basement to restore the home as a historical site and possibly for the building was being dug. It was originally set a bed and breakfast. I’d skip the mimosas though to be a cold storage facility for August and Herman if you don’t want to venture downstairs for the Luer’s successful meat packing business. With the champagne.

Finally, we come to the aforementioned discovery of the mineral spring, however, it was Alton prison that was first a state prison and then suggested the two German immigrant brothers open up a health spa instead. One thing led to another later used by the Union Army to house captured and the Mineral Confederate soldiers during the Civil War. The Springs Hotel area where the prison once stood is rumored to was born. It was a be haunted by the ghosts of the hundreds of men luxurious hotel that who died there from conditions said to be among once boasted the the worst imaginable. Most of the prison has been largest swimming dismantled over the years, and in fact, this may play pool and the largest a large part in why Alton is so very haunted. It seems dining room table in much of the prison’s stonework was appropriated the state of Illinois. for use in the foundations and construction of many Wet footprints have of the previously mentioned haunted homes and been found in the buildings throughout Alton. Many of those who swimming pool area study paranormal phenomenon believe that places although there has can hold sense memories particularly when those been no water in the memories are of such potent territory as pain and pool for many years, suffering and death. The stones of Alton prison and apparitions are therefore may contribute to the potential for being occasionally spied haunted in the buildings where they were used.

It’s only a theory but it seems to be a common (credit: McPike Mansion) in this room as well.

The stairway denominator in many of Alton’s haunted locales.

Also haunted is the old Hop Hollow Road near the old hotel which led from the prison through the woods of lobby (the hotel is now retail shops like many an old building in Alton) is haunted by a female presence Hop Hollow to a cemetery wherein the Confederate known as the “Jasmine Lady” because of the strong, prisoners were interred after they met with death at times almost putrid, smell of her jasmine perfume at the prison. Union soldiers entrusted with the which signals that the ghost is near. It is possible task of bringing the bodies of their former foes to that she may be the spirit of a woman who fell to their final resting place would often simply throw her death down the stairs in 1925. There are lots of the bodies into the woods along the road and use ghost stories concerning the Mineral Springs Hotel the time allotted for their job to drink and socialize although most have been debunked as fantastical instead. The ghosts of these restless Confederate inventions. Nevertheless, the place is said to be full dead are sometimes seen along the Hop Hollow Road and have been known to flag down passing of ghosts, whoever they may be.

One of the most well known haunted hot spots motorists seeking a ride (perhaps to the graveyard in all of Alton is the McPike Mansion on Alby Street. where they should have been taken). Like many The McPikes were a proud and wealthy family of accounts of hitchhiking ghosts, when someone Scottish descent. Members of the McPike family does unknowingly offer one of these specters a ride actually fought with George Washington at Valley the ghost always disappears into thin air inside of Forge. The family was very active in both a number the car before any destination is reached.

Well, like I said at the start, Alton is one haunted of businesses as well as in the political arena. The little town, and with its numerous ghost tours and sixteen-room Victorian mansion was built for Henry Guest McPike (Mayor of Alton from 1887-1891) in general lore it might prove to be a rather entertaining 1869, but other members of the family continued to Halloween-time excursion, particularly for our St. occupy the home for some time after his death. A Louis’ readership with their close proximity to the man by the name of Paul A. Laichinger purchased town. But be careful or you might just wind up like the home from the McPike family in 1908 and owned so many a deceased denizen of Alton and linger the mansion until his death in 1930. His is one of there…forever. several ghosts that haunt the property, and his apparition has been seen peering down from the

B

etween our end-of-the-month deadline and an endless list of loose-ends to finish before we print The Sinner, we barely have time to sleep before work calls the next morning, much less commit to drunken ventures on a late Wednesday night. But when Lola Van Ella puts on a free show you bend the rules a bit, if not break them altogether.

The venue at hand was St. Louis’ renowned rock venue, The Old Rock House on 7th street; that strange location between downtown and Soulard where roads crisscross only to be lost and reborn again. Despite numerous wishes, we had yet been inside the Rock House for a show or even a simple quench of the thirst, other than to deliver new issues of the Sinner.

Walking through the door of The Old Rock House seems to take you back a century, or almost so, to a simpler day where the stiff drinks poured were often paid for with a handshake, days of the wild Midwest. While one’s good name and signature may have been replaced with credit cards and IDs today, The Old Rock House still pours a turn-of-the-century whiskey, price and stiffness alike. And their stage, located past the elaborately decorated midsection of the bar, bleeds of drunken hoots and hollers long gone, yet is perfectly catered for live rock-n-roll or shows like Lola’s, a scandalous night of burlesque.

This was the first night for Burlesque On The Rocks, and to project the night as error free would be misleading. From the very first minute technical difficulties plagued Lola’s show; the mics batteries went dead and the second song wasn’t in order, plagued etc., etc. It was as if the Gods were against her sinful performance. If so, the God’s underestimated Lola’s true sense of professionalism. She comically worked the crowd through the mic swap and seductively laid on the stage as the song issue was worked out with the sound guy. She and the troupe then went on to produce one sinister evening of rockin’ burlesque, a staple Lola is known for.

Burlesque on the Rocks is now a weekly Wednesday event at the Old Rock House, something that Lola is really excited about. She says that overall it’s a unique show that will have a group act choreographed and performed exclusively for the Old Rock House.

In addition, she says the show will include 3 sets, starting at 9:30 with a “classic” set, then a “rock n’ roll’” set second, and then lastly, an “anything goes” set which will feature neo-burlesque acts and other fun pieces that don’t fit into typical categories.

But best of all, for this class act, which was recently invited to Europe and New Orleans to represent St. Louis, it’s 100% FREE! Now if that doesn’t give you a reason to get off your asses on a Wednesday night, what the Hell will?

For a detailed listing of Lola’s upcoming productions, click on www.lolavanella.com. And be sure to check out Burlesque On The Rocks Wednesday night, it’s sure to be an evening of hoots and hollers that will haunt the Old House for centuries to come!

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myspace.com/stlouissinner

And now for some sex in the news!

Mainstreaming SEX

W

hen I want the latest buzz on what’s shakin’ in the sex toy and adult novelty business I turn to trusted industry periodicals like ASB (Adult Store Buyer) Magazine, AVN Novelty Business Magazine or Storerotica Magazine. Hardworking industry insiders keep me abreast (so to speak) of what’s happening in the ever-changing world of what we used to call (ahem)…”marital aids”. I never expect the mainstream media to cover this beat even though we all know that sex sells and sells big; tens of billions of dollars annually BIG. So imagine my surprise when I happen upon a lengthily article in that bastion of conservative capitalism, Forbes Magazine, that sings the praises of those rugged pioneers who are tirelessly laboring to bring adult products to Main Street. Pioneers indeed!

At least there’s one bright spot in this dreadful economy. The cash-strapped masses may be spending less on restaurants and entertainment, but not necessarily on the quality of their sex lives--and manufacturers of sexual aids are broadening their lines to meet the demand.

To wit: Trojan now offers a condom that comes with a disposable vibrating ring. Durex, another condom maker, sells a vibrator and a line of lubricants. Even Philips Electronics (nyse: PHG news - people) has joined competitor Hitachi (nyse: HIT - news - people) in the vibrator business. “We’re much more open now to experimenting sexually,” says Louis Friedman, chief executive of Liberator, a maker of sex toys in Atlanta. “We’re seeing countless new products being sold to a much larger audience than people realized. Even the more conservative retailers have begun to come around.”

Indeed, Wal-Mart (nyse: WMT - news - people), Walgreen (nyse: WAG - news - people) and Target (nyse: TGT - news - people) now peddle sexual aids, including condoms, lubricants and personal massagers. Walgreen’s Web site features a “sexual wellness” tab, behind which are listed not

only contraceptives and fertility tests, but also pleasure-enhancing dietary supplements, romancethemed costumes and games, massage oils and lotions, and the “Emotional Bliss Femblossom” vibrator. (Representatives from Walgreen’s and Target were unavailable for comment; a Wal-Mart communications manager would say only that the chain “has a diverse mix of shoppers who visit our stores each day, and we are committed to providing customers with the selection of products they expect to find in our stores.”)

This is particularly mind-blowing in light of that fact that there are still several states in the union (Alabama, Virginia, Georgia, Mississippi and South Carolina among them) that prohibit the sale of adult novelties, particularly dildos. I mean, we all know what a corrupting influence a faux penis can be on the virtue of our women folk.

And it was only a couple of years ago, February 2007 to be precise, that a federal appeals court ruled that a Texas prohibition against the sale of dildos and masturbation sleeves violated the 14th Amendment.

The normally conservative 5th Circuit Court of Appeals struck down the state’s ban on the grounds that it violated the right of ordinary citizens “to engage in private intimate conduct in the home without government intrusion.” You GO 5th Circuit!

This is real progress, sex fans! Even though we all know it’s the bottom line of the giant retailers that is stimulating this evolution, not their abiding concern for individual rights. But hell, I’m pragmatic enough to accept progress in whatever guise it may cum.

And I suppose it’s reassuring to know that in these troubling economic times one can find quality sex toys that will provide years of pleasure for under a hundred bucks. Ok, so it ain’t a holiday in the Caribbean. But who can afford that extravagance right now?

Scientists Develop A ‘Sex Chip’!

Oh baby, Oh baby, you make me so hot!

I know; can you stand it? Apparently scientists

This, I Shamelessly Tell You

Dr Dick’s Sex Advice

Richard Wagner, Ph.D., ACS Sex Therapist, Sexual Health Counselor and Sex Advice Columnist www.drdicksexadvice.com

happened upon a repurpose for implanted brain electrodes originally developed to treat Parkinson’s disease.

Apparently scientists have been focusing on the area of the brain just behind the eyes known as the orbitofrontal cortex - this is associated with feelings of pleasure derived from eating and sex.

A research survey conducted by Morten Kringelbach, senior fellow at Oxford University’s department of psychiatry, found the orbitofrontal cortex could be a “new stimulation target” to help people suffering from anhedonia, an inability to experience pleasure.

Neurosurgery professor Tipu Aziz, said: “There is evidence that this chip will work. A few years ago a scientist implanted such a device into the brain of a woman with a low sex drive and turned her into a very sexually active woman. She didn’t like the sudden change, so the wiring in her head was removed.”

He added however that the current technology, which requires surgery to connect a wire from a heart pacemaker into the brain, can cause bleeding and is

“intrusive and crude”.

He continued: “When the technology is improved, we can use deep brain stimulation in many new areas. It will be more subtle, with more control over the power so you may be able to turn the chip on and off when needed.”

“In 10 years’ time the range of therapies available will be amazing – we don’t know half the possibilities yet.”

I’m gonna go all old school on you now. I think nature provided most of us all the equipment we need to blow our mind…as it were, so to speak. We have hands, a mouth, feet, assorted naughty bits and most important of all — an imagination. No electrode is gonna beat that winning combo.

Before we go stickin’ things in our noggin, perhaps we could take the time we need to arouse ourselves and our partner(s) using all the yummy things we have available to us. I know, it sounds really old fashioned, but it works. It actually works better that we think. It’s remarkable how few of us are even scratching the surface of our lusty potential.

by Rajkhet Dirzhud-Rashid

The True Last Frontier, Gender, Or the Pink Or Blue Question, and My Thoughts On Health Care Reform

I

’m outraged, and not just because I’m overly hot and my boobs hurt. Ah, perimenopause, my dear you suck rotten lemons and monkey butts. No, though my body’s uncomfortable, going through yet another ‘dry cycle’ (trust me that’s all you want to know about that). What I’m outraged about is that in South Africa, former home of the extremely racist Apartheid system that was finally overturned last century, is in the middle of testing young, female runner Caster Semenya on the basis that she “might not be a real woman.” I’m putting quotation marks there not because the news report I read on Yahoo said that exactly, but because of my outrage at the implications that a woman who has a “muscular build” and “deep voice” (quotes from the article) cannot be a “real woman” (my quotes again).

This little gem put the finishing gelling on what had been rolling around in my skull every since I thought about writing a column about the whole gender issue, that being the way even intelligent people still feel a need to define a person by what’s between their legs.

Or in the case of young runner Semenya, how they look, as opposed to who they are. I mean, does it matter anymore that someone has a penis or vagina under their clothes, even though the clothes they might be wearing are from the closet of the opposite gender?

I’ve been mulling this whole thing over as my slave/lover/sweetie continues to turn the gender

question on its ear and even make origami out of it.

This came up especially when we were out recently, him dressed as a ‘her’, and me in my ‘punk boy’ get up (meaning leggings, tee-shirt and minimal make up).

Z (the new term for us gender-queer folks), my honey, commented that my way of fondling Z and possessively putting my arm around Zim in public was very ‘male’.

I giggled and agreed that yes, it was and realized that now when we go out dressed as we were on that occasion, I automatically take on the ‘boy’ role, without even thinking about it, make up or no make up.

I also take the dominant role in bed, whether Z is dressed in femme drag, with lingering makeup from the date, or not. Whether I’m very aware of his male genitalia pleasing mine.

Sometimes Z’s commented that dressed as we were, with me wearing makeup and looking pretty ‘girly’, some folks might even think of us as a Lesbian couple. That made us both break up laughing like wicked, little children with a naughty secret between us. Yes, we enjoy spoofing gender and noting that sometimes people flirt with both of us, or one of us, because the ‘rules’ aren’t clear as to what we are as a couple. Then, sometimes it’s aggravating too, as people still say things to me like a woman in my zumba class said when I let her know I considered myself male. She said, without blinking ‘but you’re so pretty’.

I wanted to slap her overly made up face, but didn’t.

That comment and similar ones and those questions to parents about the gender of their children (I admit I still do that too, but more out of politeness than anything else), or those parents who insist on separating humans into one sex or the other bore and anger me.

When the hell are we going to get beyond this ridiculous need to box people in? Probably not in my lifetime or my sweetie’s lifetime I’m sure. Still, in our world at least, we can be who we are, rocking the boat, rocking each other and making each other very happy.

Unfortunately, in the real world, not only do gender issues crop up to piss me off, but also those questions about where health care is headed in this country. To any of those boneheads who think that we should just leave the whole medical establishment alone and keep government out of it, I say this: and what better plan to make sure that people below a certain income level have adequate health insurance do you have, moron?

I mean, even Cuba has better health care than this country. Maybe if I lived there, or in Canada (both of which have something resembling universal health care) I wouldn’t be sitting here suffering, waiting for the damned UW Medical Center radiologists to get off their asses and make my appointment for a much needed and fairly uncomplicated procedure to free me

from some of my more uncomfortable gynecological issues around perimenopause. Me, I think it’s time for a real revolution in this country, not just electing a Black president.

This, I shamelessly tell you.

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photo by Eric Christensen