textfiles/magazines/MIKE/mike09.txt

Mike's Madness #9

   Join the Royal Army now and you can win these valuable prizes:
   A trip to Bristol
   Three crates of Spam
   And . . .
   7 years for Crimes against Humanity!

This issue:  Mike expresses his opinions about his favorite music album.

. . . Think about Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon for a moment. To start
with, we have a smart black cover with a rainbow coming out of an almost
transparent prism.  Such soothing imagery.
   And then the music. We have instrumentals, a vocal solo, incredible sound
effects, a sometimes heard conversation going on in the background, whiz-
bang technical effects, all wrapped up in a musical commentary about death,
the meaning of life, isolation, madness, capitalism, war, religion and the
military. Each song is rhythmic, and this rhythm can by wholly appreciated
even by the everyday layman. Although, personal experience tells me at least
2 or 3 good sized joints of KGB is needed to get the full effect of the
music.  And those can't be no little "California Slurp" joints, either. I
mean fully packed bombers laden with resin-rich buds from plants that have
been under the earth for a few months (or years). You smoke three of these.
You can't move, you can't talk, and your mind just shifts into over-drive.
And that's when Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon and its rich stew of
tunes is at its best.

   What else are you going to listen to??:

o Polka? No, polkas only conjure up images of fat, drunk, old German men in
shorts stomping drunkly along to music that sounds like it's written to
compliment the scores of farts (mostly comprised of beer, sauerkraut and
polish sausage and have been known to stun small children) that are
constantly being released.

o Rap? Uh-uh. You hear a single line from a rap song and your mind will
bounce back to your car battery. Remember it? The 3000 cranking amp battery
that cost you three paychecks? And remember how it was in your car when you
walked into "Frank's House of Chicken 'n Ribs" and how it wasn't in your car
when you walked out? Yes, you remember. Well, rap will give you that same
poisoned hate you felt for everyone after you found that one of them had
"sto't yo batt'ry".

o Heavy Metal? Nooooo you won't. The second you hear the heavy metal
artist's contribution to the store of musical wisdom you'll instantly
realize one of two things:
  1) This music that sounds like a bulldozer hitting a pile of bridge supports
after having been dropped from the top of the Empire State Building is in fact
being sung by a man who is possibly wearing women's clothing.
   - or -
  2) I'm very stoned. Too stoned, in fact, to want to listen to music written
for people who amp 21 days straight. Put the Floyd CD back on.

o Classical: Be serious! This stuff was written by people who were either
totally insane or totally boring. It sounds like music written to combat
insomnia. Three strands of this stuff and you're out. Period. You'll go
comatose and your friend'll have to call up someone to score a dime of crank
to wake your ass back up again. Nope, avoid classical at all costs.

o Show Tunes?  Shirley, you jest! Show Tunes are the Devil's contribution
to music. One stanza of Oklahoma and into your mind snaps the image of some
fading alcoholic actress who quit drinking five minutes before her first
number going onstage and belting out an ode to a state that is best known for
nothing. Nope, avoid these at all costs too.

o ELO?  Hell no! All that stuff was done in the 70's. When you hear it, you
think abou how you used to be in the 70's. And then you think how young you
were in the 70's. And then you think how old you are now. And how much
closer to death you are. And then your whole damn trip turns into a nightmare
reflection upon your own mortality.

    So, as you can plainly see, Pink Floyd's _Dark Side of the Moon_ is the
perfect musical companion for any trip of the head.  Enjoy!

  . . . And now a message from the Pope.

   Hello, this is the Pope and I would like to talk to all you young men
about a delicate subject -- self abuse. That's right boys, I wanna talk to
you about jacking off. Cut the shit, boys. You give your willie a whack and
you're going straight to Hell. The Devil's got a special level for boys who
can't keep their hands busy. Just ask any of these famous world leaders:

  Adolf Hitler: A bit of self abuse helped me get through the Invasion of
		Poland.
  H. Hirohito: A quick one off the wrist made me forget all about Hiroshima.
  N. Bonapart: I liked to have a quickie while crossing the Alps.
  O. North: I used to flog my dolphin while shredding documents.
  R. Reagan: Well, I used to like it before I forgot how.
  Senator J. Tower: [RETCH!]  Bllaaaaaap!! Peeeewwwwwkk! [*HEAVE!*] Huka-
			      huka-huka-huka PEEEEEEWWWWWWWKK!
  D. Qualie: Why do you think I joined the National Guard?
  G. Bush: I like to pound my potato before every cabinet meeting.
  M. Gorbachov: I like to do it while reading Das Capitals.
  K. Marx:  'ere! That's revolting!

    As you can see boys, self abuse is the easiest way into the geopolitical
realm. But it's also a quick ticket to Hell. Remember: Think once, think
twice, think "I'm goin' to Hell if I caress my carrot". The soul you save
may be your own! And if you're having those kinds of feelings, talk to your
preacher. He's a pedarast . . . ooops! Pedagog.
    Now I must go, I have important work to do. (Hey, will one of you 
Cardinals hand me that copy of Penthouse? Thanks . . .)

						Sincerely,

						The Pope

						Not associated with the Mafia.
						Well, not a lot, really. Some.
						A bit. More than a bit
						honestly, but not much more!
						Maybe. Well, to be honest,
						a lot, actually. Wholly
						associated, he is.