JANUARY, 2003 E.A.
(goddamn Raiders issue)

(oh well, there are still more things that you need to figure out in the December issue anyway).

For the rest of you, welcome to what promises to be an exciting read, full of fascinating revelations about Sacramento’s favorite band. I’m in a particularly good mood today (a notice of jury service will do that to a person - now I get to go to that puddle of bum piss called downtown L.A. with my pink summons [itself, essentially a future parking ticket, the bastards] and use my fullest creative ability to get out of it. This time it might be something like: "I don’t think anyone can be guilty of any crime due to the chem-trails the shadow government is spraying on US unless of course I don’t like the way they dress in which case you don’t need me to tell you that they should be locked up in a golden cage, placed inside a rocket a blasted into outer space." Either that or: " If the trial has ANYTHING at all to do with drugs, the defendant is gonna get a big fat not guilty vote complete with a golden star from me! Now I’ve gotta get my Cheech&Chong video back to ‘Blockbuster’ (that’s a reminder to you, Stacey)." Alright, that was the rant, now here’s the solution: Let me watch the trial at home on my computer and decide their fate with a simple keystroke... goddamn Raiders!

THE RESULTS ARE IN... and they’re inconclusive

Recently I commissioned a poll by the prestigious firm of J.D. Powers and Associates (using my own money) to determine whether Toolband fans wanted more personal information about individual band members in their newsletter, or if you preferred to know more about Western esotericism, ufology, and other related subjects that are of great interest to the group itself. It turns out that the vote was split, 48% each way, with the remaining 4% (or 4 people undecided, meaning, I suppose, they don’t know what they’d prefer). But in that I am in such a good mood, let’s find out what’s going on with the guys these days, shall we. ADAM JONES: I think I might have seen Adam playing with The Melvins last Saturday night while visiting the surfer girl down in San Diego. It sure looked like Adam, and the guy played a Silverburst guitar (I think) like Adam’s. I’m going to see The Melvins again tonight in Santa Barbara, so I’ll try to find out for sure whether it’s really him or just someone who looks and plays a lot like Adam.

And speaking of San Diego, what a great time I had down there over the Superbowl weekend. Draped in their silver and black finery, Grandpa Al’s gangstas had descended upon the palm-fringed, sun-splashed streets like a tenebrous shroud, extinguishing the melodious whistling of songbird in the prismatic beams and filling the crowded gaslamp district with a palpable drone of Raiiiiiiiiddddders (familiar to anyone who has been to a game at the Oakland Coliseum). In the world famous zoo (no, not the Oakland Coliseum), giraffes were peaking over their pseudo-African tapestry to see what tameless animals(i.e. Raider fans in general) had disturbed their repose.

At night, members of the Raider Nation paraded to throbbing hip-hop, their immaculate Nikes trampling the carrion of locals who braved the flaunting, skull and crossbones-befestooned masses to watch the hellish spectacle in the gaslamp. Corporate Tampa Bay fans were conspicuously absent, except for in a few bar&grills on the periphery of the madness (in one tavern in Little Italy, the surfer girl walked up to the bar to get us another round, when a balding Buc fan in a hilarious vermilion turtleneck complained to the bartender that he had been waiting longer. "Yeah, but I’m the one with the nice tits" the surfer girl responded [having recently been swayed over to the dark side], and promptly got a big smile and two sparkling gin and tonics). Despite the barbarous carnival that was downtown San Diego, Stacey/surfer girl/violinist/Soror Mystika and I enjoyed the other parts of her city, looking for treasures in dusty bookshops on Adams Street during the day, sharing a burrito and Corona by moonlight, exhaling the pleasant aroma of sweetleaf* from a shiny new purple one-hitter while watching Cheech&Chong’s "Up in Smoke" and damn near going deaf while King Buzzo and his Melvins rocked the Casbah. But in the end, it was the Buccaneers who feasted on the meat of the boar and received the aureate jewel (in a game with scenes reminiscent of the 1919 Chicago Black Sox scandal).

* Technically a bud (as opposed to a leaf); this according to Stacey, the horticulturist. And yes, when people ask me what she does (in her presence), how I enjoy telling them that she is a hor...(long pause)... ticulturist. Or, when mad: You little hor... ticulturist.

DANNY CAREY: The tall guy has a new recording project with Adrian Belew (of King Crimson) and Les Claypool (of Primus and Oyster Head). From what Danny has told me, things are going well and the trio have been jamming with other material (besides that recorded for the album) that, schedules permitting, they might try to make something of in the late Spring. now back to the goddamn fix.

A couple of people emailed asking if Danny had been razzing me about the Raiders defeat last Sunday. The answer is an emphatic NO. Hell, how could he? His still muddy Chiefs were watching the game from their million dollar teepees in Los Angeles just like the rest of us (huh?). Actually, most of my friends (who aren’t Raider fans) phoned to tell me that they believed the game was "fixed." I rather doubt that it was, but there were a few things that raised a brow or two at our little gathering. Personally, I believe the Raider’s defeat was due to their wearing white jerseys and the barbarous word "eaitehr" scribbled haphazardly by a sorceress who then EXITED the ‘The Black Hole’ like a banished prism of sunlight. Some body (sic) actually wrote that "at least you were surrounded by family..." What? Nobody close to me f***ing died! (only that quarterback in the livery of the East Bay - they should have brought in George Blanda in the fourth quarter, even though I’m not sure if he’s still alive - still if they really needed a miracle, George would be the man, especially if arrayed in the peacock-wings of death). It was a glorified football game! How about, "at least the Raiderettes’ gorgeous big t*ts weren’t eclipsed by polyester warm-up jackets! But I digress - this literary tumbleweed keeps rolling...

JUSTIN CHANCELLOR: Haven’t seen him since the glittering New Year’s Eve bash at his secluded *******canyon manse. But I can tell you that he looked good (I think his hair was alittle longer). Oh, and, from what Danny told me, he’s got lots of riffs that the two are going to begin jamming as soon as Danny gets back from the ‘Belew project.’ Yes, ‘Tool’ riffs!

Before I get to that other guy in the band, there’s something else about the surfer girl that I think needs to be brought to the attention of the class (i.e. those of you who are interested in the more esoteric aspects of the newsletter, as opposed to How Long [Raider’s could have used him too] Justin’s hair is.) With stories of ultra-bizarre ‘dreams’, OBEs, MIBs, and a father involved with Black opts(?), it’s little wonder that she got caught in my web(more to come).

(NOTE: Does anyone remember Staci from about two and a half years ago? The girl that laid down her Barbie and picked up a copy of Opiate, wanting to know if the members of Tool were Christian? Well, don’t think that I didn’t consider that ‘my’ Stacey and the other Staci might not be one and the same, with the Staci subjected to my sarcasm in the newsletter [see October, 2000 e.v. - Halloween edition] plotting some diabolical revenge). Anyway, in light of these things Stacey/surfer girl/violinist/hor...ticulturist/Soror Mystika has been telling me, it may have been no coincidence that we encountered the ‘phantom convoy’ while returning from Las Vegas last October (a smile). As a footnote, here is what one person emailed me about the incident:

"What you saw are vehicles that use fiber optics as a ‘smokescreen.’ These vehicles (i.e. cutvees, deuce and a halfs, hummers, 5 tons, tanks, etc.) are equipped with cameras mounted all over their surfaces and use what is filmed in front of them. For example, say between you and a desert/mountain range is one of these vehicles. The cameras in the rear are constantly filming what is behind them (the mountain/desert). Other cameras are projecting the rear filmed images in front of the vehicle - that’s right - onto thin air! Therefore what you see (they hope) is the mountain range. Like cutting and pasting an image over another with photoshop to cover it up. So you’re right, it is a technology, just much more expensive than that magic invisible cream Jerry uses to get away from Tom."

MJK: No real news from Maynard’s terroir, although I’m sure he still plans on trying to produce the true Templar wine from his property in Arizona. Ditto on the object that was unearthed by workers digging holes to plant the diffuse shade trees for the vineyards. But I can tell you that neither Maynard nor any other member of Tool did actually bid on that defunct missile silo on ebay a couple of months ago. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but I was told that the members of the band ‘Creed’ actually bought it as a shelter of sorts, spending most of their personal fortunes to do so. Evidently (and again, this might just be a rumor), they mistook our mentioning of the Messianic Star, "Nibiru" on Toolband ( see "Nibiruan appearance") as the signal of the Biblical End Times, instead of as a dimension of consciousness (i.e. a stratum of the Mauve Zone) that I was really writing about. Oh well, I suppose there’s nothing wrong with divergent points of view (tee-hee).

As for any new musical projects (is that what you wanted to know about?), I think MJK and Billy are still working on ‘A Perfect Circle.’ Hey, now that I think about it, Maynard did tell me something that might interest some of you. This had to do with a new tattoo that he is planning on getting. I will need to first check to see if he wants this information made public, but I can tell you that the truly unique thing about this particular tattoo is that NO ONE ELSE will be able to copy it. At least not without undergoing the same expensive (and revolutionary) surgical procedure. The other unique thing about it is that the tattoo is not just one set design, but has the ability to morph into several other images in rapid succession. S***, how’d they do that? Well, stay tuned, and I will tell you (and to think, one emailer and MJK fan called this the "snoozeletter.") goddamn Buc’s defense!



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