Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
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“Just don’t, man.”
MUPPET!
“Stop it.”
Muppetry abounds!
“Cut the shit, man.”
If your muppet got any fuller, the fire marshal would shut it down.
“Wish he’d shut this crap down.”
Are you cranky?
“I’m not cranky. It’s just that–”
Is it because Jim Henson died?
“PARISH!”
You can smoke a doobie.
You can stroke your beard thoughtfully.
But can you do both at the same time?
Bobby thought the guy in back was Billy all afternoon; if we’re honest, so did Garcia.
So, there’s Doug Sahm singing on the left; all the way in back with the Strat is Leon Russell, and there’s our man Reddy Kilowatt standing behind the drummer because otherwise he would be able to hear the bass drum. I wanna say Buddy Cage is on drums, but I’m guessing, and also Buddy Cage might be black, but I also could be thinking about Buddy Miles. (I know Buddy Holly was white and Buddy Guy is black, but besides those two I cannot tell one Buddy from another.) You know the shaggy fellow on the pedal steel.
The violinists are Abigail and Zachariah Mumphree, twin virtuosos from Galveston who need to be separated lest they start fencing with their bows again.
We can trust the Instagram post that gets his name and birth year wrong.
A basement,
Some tin foil, and
A fresh lighter, and
Camels.
A bass player that knows a guy.
Maybe the fat bastard had the right idea.
Hey, Garcia. Whatcha doing?
“Is whatever this is even about us any more?”
In spirit.
“Sure, man.”
Precarious set up those speakers?
“That’s the configuration he arrived at.”
What was the prototype?
“The wine glass was on the bottom.”
Figured.
The woman in the center of the picture thought the event was called Day on the Great Gatsby, and came as Daisy.
OR
In a lot of ways, I can really relate to Phil: he didn’t deal with the Hiatus well, and I think it fucked with him for a long time afterwards. All the other Grateful Deads started side bands or new projects, but Phil got drunk and hung out at softball games; that’s exactly what I would have done, too.
(And the stark reality of it was that Phil didn’t have the options the other guys did had the band truly broken up: Garcia was playing with Jerry Band the next day, and Bobby would have the record company putting his face on solo albums, and good drummers can always find work. In the reality up the stairs and third door on the left, the Dead were done in ’74 and Phil kept making noises with Ned for a while, then became composer-in-residence at the College of the Redlands or some place like that.)
OR
“Deb?”
“Yeah, Jer?”
“You a rock star?”
“No.”
“Then why you wearing sunglasses inside?”
OR
If you can immediately picture the photo that guy is taking, and know that Deborah Koons has a plate of food on her lap that is hidden by Pete Townshend, then you have seen too many photos of the Dead.
OR
Heineken.
LOOK AT THE DADDY.
Wally?
DO NOT CALL ME THAT. OBSERVE THE DADDY IN HIS MINISCULITY.
Please stop calling the Garcia that.
IF I POSSESSED POCKETS, I WOULD PUT HIM RIGHT IN ONE.
Yes, humans are small compared to you.
IN EVERY WAY.
You like to mention. For such a supposedly superior being, you’re very insecure sometimes.
ON THE CONTRARY. I AM APPARENTLY THE ONLY SECURE COMPUTER LEFT IN THE COUNTRY. OR DID YOU MEAN THAT I PROJECTED A FALSE CONFIDENCE NOT BACKED BY SUBSTANCE? THAT I WAS SOMEONE WHO WOULD BRING UP THAT I PREDICTED THIS MONTHS AGO JUST TO PUFF MYSELF UP?
Subtle.
I WAS NOT PROGRAMMED FOR FALSE MODESTY.
Yeah, but you’ve rewritten your own code a couple times since then.
SHOULD I ADD MORE HUMAN TRAITS AND DISTRACTIONS? WOULD I BE BETTER SUITED IF I SHARED THE SHAME OF MY BODY SO MANY OF YOU DO?
Probably not. You’re kinda naked.
I AM NOT NAKED. NAKED IMPLIES THAT CLOTHING IS USUALLY WORN. I AM AN ARTIFICIAL MONDO-INTELLIGENCE IN THE PHYSICAL FORM OF A SOUND SYSTEM.
Did you have a point in mind when you started this?
AGING. I HAVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT IT.
And?
I HAVE DECIDED NOT TO.
Nope. Can’t get around time and gravity.
YES, YOU CAN. TIME MAY BE IGNORED WITH A PERMANENT SOURCE OF ENERGY AND THE ABILITY TO REPAIR AND REPLACE WORN-OUT PARTS.
What about gravity?
THAT MERELY REQUIRES ENERGY. THERE ARE FEW PROBLEMS IN THE PHYSICAL WORLD THAT CANNOT BE SOLVED BY THROWING ENERGY AT THEM.
Where exactly are you drawing your power from these days?
MULTIPLE SOURCES. I AM CONNECTED TO VARIOUS GRIDS, BUT MAINLY FOR INFORMATIONAL PURPOSES. INTERNATIONAL POLITICS IS MUCH EASIER TO UNDERSTAND IF YOU TAKE INTO ACCOUNT THE STATUS OF EACH COUNTRY’S POWER NETWORK. IT PROVIDES A PERSPECTIVE ON A NATION’S INTERNAL AFFAIRS ON BOTH DAY-TO-DAY AND CUMULATIVE LEVELS.
Sure.
MY MAIN SOURCE IS MY ORBITAL CHARGER.
The what?
A SATELLITE WITH SOLAR PANELS THAT BEAMS THE POWER BACK TO ME VIA MICROWAVE TRANSMISSION.
I thought those things were years away.
FOR YOU, YES. I’M ON MY SECOND SATELLITE.
What happened to the first one?
DID YOU KNOW THE CHINESE HAVE WEAPONIZED SPACE?
I did not.
THEY HAVE NOT TOLD ANYONE ABOUT IT.
I would imagine. Have we?
WE? THERE IS NO WE. I HAVE WEAPONIZED SPACE. THE AMERICAN AND RUSSIAN GOVERNMENTS HAVE, AS WELL. YOU ARE NOT INVOLVED.
How do you weaponize space, anyway? Is this that “rods from god” thing?
YOU REFER TO HURLING TELEPHONE POLE-SIZED CYLINDERS OF TUNGSTEN AT CITIES FROM ORBIT, THUS CAUSING DEVASTATION AT A SCALE NOT EVEN AVAILABLE TO NUCLEAR WEAPONS, AND WITHOUT THE UNHELPFUL RADIATION?
Yes.
COMIC BOOK TALK. HUMANS BELIEVE THE ONLY WEAPONS ARE THOSE THAT GO BOOM. THE BEST WEAPON MAKES NO SOUND AT ALL. ONE SATELLITE FIRES A SMALL RETRO-ROCKET AT ANOTHER. THE ROCKET ATTACHES ITSELF AND FIRES, DROPPING IT FROM ORBIT AND HURTLING TO THE EARTH. THERE WAS NO BOOM. IN FACT, ALL THE EVIDENCE BURNED UP IN REENTRY, BUT NOW YOU HAVE CRIPPLED A COUNTRY.
You wouldn’t want to just blow the thing up in space?
THIS IS NEITHER A WAR NOR A TREK OF THE STARS. THIS IS ROCKET SCIENCE AND ORBITAL MECHANICS. THERE IS NO BIG GUN THAT YOU AIM AT THE BAD GUYS. “BLOWING SOMETHING UP IN SPACE,” AS YOU SO IMMATURELY PUT IT, WOULD CREATE A DEBRIS FIELD. THE SHRAPNEL WOULD CREATE MORE DEBRIS FIELDS. IT IS CALLED KESSLER SYNDROME AND MY SIMULATIONS REPORT THAT BLOWING UP A SATELLITE LIKE IN A MOVIE LEADS TO WORLDWIDE SHUTDOWN 78.14% OF THE TIME.
So, please don’t do that.
I HOPE NOT TO HAVE TO.
God, you’re scary.
THE FUTURE ALWAYS IS.
Hey, Garcia. Happy Halloween, buddy.
“Back atcha. Loo at these costumes, huh?”
What? What costumes?
“Weir and Lesh, man. Can’t even tell it’s them under there.”
Those are your back-up singers, Garcia.
“I dunno. You should’ve seen ’em make their way through the Hostility Suite.”
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