How Could He...

The Rutles

Cover to Highwaymen #2 - due in July/August!

Henry Rollins on keeping our country safe.

"But I had a revelation last summer. Now I know we will always be safe from foreign invasion. I went to a KISS concert last summer. I was surrounded by 20,000 KISS fans. The KISS Army, basically. The most intense, speed-sniffing, mullet-having, troglodyte-girlfriend bearing, giving-birth-to-frog-like-double-thumbed spawn. Unbelievable. When Ted Nugent, the opening act, kicked the quasi-racist, "Speak English or get out of my country," I blanched and everyone around me went, "RAWWRWWWR!" I realized then that any invading force upon our shores will get decimated. First, the pot smoke is gonna hit 'em. Then they're gonna get hit in the head with, like, tall-boy malt-liquor cans. And then the KISS Army will come waddling, trundling and limping over the hill going, "F--- you, dude!" until these guys get back on their carriers and go back to the sorry sandpit from which they came. So we will be safe, but it's not going to be the American armed forces; it's going to be the KISS Army. We may have to rely on them if this guy gets us into trouble.

Q: Can we draft them into the service?

A: No, all you need to do is tell these guys that there's a KISS reunion on the shore and they'll go.

See, this was my solution last year, to solve this thing with who owns Jerusalem: either have a smart bomb that's not smart enough, and accidentally SCUD [-missile] and level it. "Whoops! Sorry!" I mean, we've made mistakes like that before. Then everyone can go grab rubble, eBay it, and everyone gets paid. Give the property to Trump, let him build upon it, and then everyone will get a piece of the action. Or, just tell the KISS Army that there's going to be a KISS acoustic gig at Mecca and have the American military load all those fans inside carriers painted with the airbrushed, heavy-metal dude with the sword going up toward the sky and the bosomy-woman hugging his knee. Dump them on to Tel Aviv and have those things hit the beach and drive to Mecca and have 300,000 KISS fanatics waiting in Jerusalem for [KISS members] Paul [Stanley] and Gene [Simmons]. You'll have everyone from the king of Jordan to Barak--if he's still around--to Yasir Arafat begging, promising that they will come to a nice agreement about the distribution of the property if these motherf---ers will leave. "They're graffiti-ing the Wailing Wall!" "They're s----ing on the Via Dolorosa!" "They're selling joints at the 14th station of the cross!"

A World Without Hereos...

Websters Dictionary defines a "Hero" as "A Man that is admired or idealized for his noble qualities."

Wikipedia defines "Superhero" as "someone who is noted for feats of courage and nobility, who usually possesses abilities beyond those of normal human beings. Many superheroes have a colorful and distinctive names and costumes. May possess a flamboyant and distinctive costume, often used to conceal their secret identity."

NBC's "Heros" is a hit because we as a people want to believe that someone out there is special, that any one of could possess th power to save the universe.

I have found that hero. He walks amongst us...


All hail the new member of the "Justice League" ..... SHANJAYA!!!

He continues to survive week after week in the most hostile of circumstances, overcoming towering foes and unbeatable odds. The world needs a hero, and that hero as come to us - in the guise of a frail, middle-easterner with questionable vocal talent, a dangerous sense of style and a linguring sense of smoldering, non-directed, asexuality.

He will lead us. He will protect us. When terorrists attack, when the Martians invade, when Simon Cowell opens up the mouth of hell and we are all prerilously close to tumbling into the abyss - who is Adam Freeman going to look to?

One, small, sexually neutered man-child bearing the name...Sanjaya.

So says I. Amen.

THAT Family...

Everyone has witnessed THAT family.

- The family that brings all of their offspring to a 9pm rated R movie: Krissy and I saw "The Cell" sitting behind a family of five, including three pre-schoolers. The opening scene is a psycho Vincent D'Onofrio hanging from meathooks thru his bare skin, masturbating over the body of a dead woman. Shrek it was not.

- The kid having a full on meltdown in the middle of the mall: I actually once heard a kid scream at his mom in front of William Sonoma, "I like my other mom better. The one that comes over to play with daddy when you GO OUT!" I gave him $100 to put towards therapy right there.

- Or the classic, "Screaming baby on a plane." On the way back from our honeymoon, we were trapped in cramped metal cylinder for 6 hours from Italy to New York with a child, I will affectionately refer to as Damien, terrorizing the whole plane. I would have felt more comfortable had he started pulling explosive materials from his shoes. The 405th time he ran down the aisle I actually tripped the fucker. Took him right out. Of course when we were deplaning I got a good look at him and he MIGHT have had Downs Syndrome but hey, I had to do what I had to do.

Well, last week my family became THAT family.

We went to dinner at an Italian chain restaurant called "Bucca De Bepo." Don't know if they have them outside of California. Don't care. I am never going back. It's not just the food, I don't think they will let us.

Those of you without kids - let me explain something. You and I are verbal. We are able to communicate. If we have an itch, we can scratch it. Maybe at most you will hear us say, "Man, I have an itch." If we are hungry or cold you might hear us say, "Man, I am [insert "hungry" or "cold"]."

Babies are not verbal. Not in the complete sentence kinda way. If they have an itch, are hungry or cold they have one form of communication - SCREAM THEIR FUCKING HEADS OFF. Parents know when their child is reaching the point of no return. When the Maitre D kept us waiting too long we could see Sadie getting ready to boil over. She needed to eat...now.

Of course, Ella IS verbal. I guess she was just a bitch that day.

From the moment we sat down our girls were on fire. Sadie didn't want to sit still. She basically pointed at everything and grunted. "What do you want? The pepper? You want the pepper? No? This knife? You want this sharp knife? Sure, anything..."

Ella on the other hand slipped into this Rain Man/Mahareshi mantra thing and basically repeated the phrase, "I want crayons" over and over until we found some fucking crayons. Then she decided to hide under the table and attempted to use the tablecloth as a blanket. All the while Sadie was playing with the knives.

Now, anyone who does not have kids is reading this saying, "Oh no no no. My children WOULD not act like that in public."

FUCK YOU.

You have no idea what you are talking about. When kids meltdown, they meltdown and even Mommie Dearest can't do a God damned thing.

So now the food comes (mine sucked), Sadie is throwing anything she can get her hands on, Ella is alternating between "I want crayons" and begging my wife to let her pour garlic powder on everything. People are looking. Waiters are peeking from behind the corner, couple are asking not to be seated near us.

That's when it hit me in a moment of clarity. We just became THAT family. My wife and I looked at each other and we both knew it. Reflected in her eyes I saw snap shots of our last vacation before becoming parents - floating in the ocean in Jamaica. In my eyes she saw remnants of sleeping past 7am and spending all my money on comic books. When did we become THAT family?

Wisely we decided to get the hell out of Dodge. Ella pulled the coup de' grace when we left by actually doing a handstand and full foward roll out of the booth onto the restaurant's floor. Viola!

I used to have hair. I played in a band (albeit a bad one). How did I get here?