By Mike D'Ariano
I took a break from writing from this, my beloved web site, to pursue a few other avenues in life. There's a new girlfriend, a new job, a new liver, and various other things going on in my world, and frankly, the time just wasn't there. Then, this afternoon while sitting on the couch watching a heavily-edited edition of Oliver Stone's Any Given Sunday, I glanced over and saw someone else's copy of the new Rolling Stone magazine. I had a look, and remembered why I started writing for this site in the first place. The mainstream music press is so incredibly full of shit that any effort no matter how small, to put it in it's fucking place, is not only welcome, but also the true music lover's duty.
So I thought I would do my duty, and get back into the swing of things here. Let's start it off with a quick list of all the bullshit in this week's Rolling Stone magazine which coaxed me out of my own personal tora bora. It was going to be longer, but after three, I think my thoughts were laid about as bare as could be.
1. The front cover Where to start? Well it's a music magazine and at the very top of the page we're hit with a story about politics of course How Bush Fumbled, blah blah blah. Then there's a story about the Rolling Stones making an album not either of the two that came out in the last 12 months, or the inevitable live album that should be out shortly following the tour. Nope, this story is about an album made three decades ago when only 3 of the band's current 12 man (and woman can't forget Lisa Fischer) line-up were actually in the group. There's a story on new TV shows, and two stories about hot, sexy (their words) men in music; one on John Mayer, who's apparently a soul man (God I hope Marvin Gaye's dad shoots him too) and one on cover boy Justin Timberlake. Hot and sexy? yeahhhhh.
2. Ads, ads, ads There are 7 full-page ads in the first ten pages of this issue. Then going through the 105 pages of the issue there are 59 full pages of ads and 46 pages of content. 59 pages of ads and the vast majority of them are NOT for music or even entertainment products. They're for cigarettes, milk, cell phones, cars, computers, Coke, Pepsi and credit cards. Actually as I write this, I'm starting to have a change of heart. You're telling me that for just four bucks I can get information on 59 products I surely need to get though my day and a photo or two of sexy man Justin Timberlake. DEAL!
3. Cartoon on page 8 On page eight of this issue, dated September 21st, there's a cartoon that deals with 9/11. It suggests we act like nothing happened to make Osama say to himself "Did I not totally knock down those god damn infidel towers." At the end it has the catchy phrase "Never Forget." Never Learn Shit. Ladies and gents, I'm a fan of humor and even like offensive humor. I laughed my ass off at The Aristocrats, and even when Gilbert and South Park poked fun at 9/11, but to publish in a national magazine released on the fifth anniversary of one of the darkest days in American history a fucking cartoon that says we should act like it never happened could only warrant one response from me FUCK YOU Rolling Stone Magazine. I hope the next plane hits your fucking NYC offices, and while we're at it, hey Jann Wenner, if you hate Bush so much why not try Iran. I'm sure they'd love you there. You could tell them how hot Justin Timberlake's airbrushed buns are while they cut your balls off and feed 'em to you in the name of Allah. Also, I hear they're really itching for news of the new Sean Lennon album which you were good enough to kill millions of acres of trees to publish in your magazine this month only to have not one single person give enough of a shit to actually read the whole thing. Some fucking ultra-liberal environmentalist you turned out to be, you world killer.
I'm back folks. There are some other words of mine in this issue and the rest of the gang who held the fort while I was on safari in Kenya chime in with words of their own.