Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Tag: snl

I Fixed The Jenkins, And A Picture

February 9, 2021 / / 5 Comments

I didn’t have the energy to write anything new, so I went into the “Jenkins” tag and fixed all the broken picture links. This, of course, was so much more work than the writing would have been.

But you all seem to like the poor bastard, and so do I, so here we are.

And here’s a picture of Laraine Newman in Paul Stanley’s actual KISS gear: He used to leave a set at photographer Lynn Goldsmith’s studio, until she started dressing her celebrity friends up in it and selling the shots to Rock Mags. Can’t really blame him for asking for his clothes back.

So there: Jenkins and a lady in semi-stolen leathers making a silly face. What more do you want from me?

Fear Of A Black Terrapin Station

December 22, 2019 / / 2 Comments

Enthusiasts, it’s rough being the World’s Leading Grateful Dead Authority. My opinion is sought out–demanded even–from hither and yon. More yon than hither. Honestly, I can’t even recall hearing from hither since the incident with the blowtorch and his nipples; he’s holding a grudge, apparently.

Stop being dumbfucky.

The question is brought before us: Which Grateful Dead is each of these famous comics? The obvious man says, “Obviously, Eddie is Garcia, obviously,” but the obvious man is oblivious. Chapelle is Garcia. There is no act more Garcia-ish than being unable to go 30 seconds without a cigarette. The man’s Garcia reborn, plus he disappeared at the height of his fame, which is an incredibly Garcia thing to do.

Eddie is Bobby: charismatic, handsome, spent the 00’s not doing too much of note.

Chris Rock has enormous teeth and an even enormouser need to be thought of as intelligent; he’s Phil.

Kenan is clearly Billy. Y’don’t wanna see him solo, but he holds the performance together. In addition, both men enjoy white women.

Tracy Morgan is Mickey. He does one thing really well, but that’s it.

Sinbad (not pictured) is Mrs. Donna Jean, and I will not explain my reasoning behind that.

It Starts Out Like A Murmur

October 9, 2018 / / 1 Comment

Who are these people?

“Kevin Parker and Travis Scott.”

…

“Kevin’s the white one.”

Those names don’t give much of a clue.

“True. It’s not like Benmont Tench is standing next to Yung Thug.”

Right. You would be 99% sure of who was who in that situation.

“Are we being racist?”

I think we’re just being observant. But we could rephrase what we just said in a way that would make it racist as fuck.

“Let’s not.”

Why do you know these people?

“I did SNL with them.”

Oh, John, do you have another band? Do you need to see someone about this?

“It’s just a sit-in. I wrote the song with Travis.”

Lemme see this so-called SNL performance.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QcHxxwAXS_E

Is that what we’re calling a song nowadays?

“What was wrong with it?”

It didn’t have a chorus. Or a verse. Or a hook. It was, like a meth addict masturbating, both busy and pointless.

“Your opinion is neither welcome nor informed. Travis’ last record went to number one.”

Sounds like number two.

“You’re such a miserable–”

CELL PHONE NOISE

“–prick. Goddammit.”

Just answer it.

…

“You’re on with John.”

“Jonno, me lad, I hear you’re in need of management.”

“Is this Peter Grant?”

“The one and only.”

“I’m all fixed as far as representation goes, Pete.”

“You call me ‘Pete’ again an’ I’ll rip your fish-lips off, you right cunt.”

“Wow.”

“I’m your manager now. Me and your Jew worked it out when I dangled him out a window.”

“You dangled Irving Azoff out a window!?”

“Jus’ for a little bit.”

“Wow.”

“I’ve booked us some dates. 30 shows in 28 nights starting tomorrow. Also, I get 50% of your earnings from now on.”

“I don’t deserve this.”

All I Said Was, “Come On In”

November 21, 2016 / / 6 Comments

http://https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vKOb-kmOgpI

It’s a powerful segment—and not only because it’s intimately informed by things SNL’s writers likely know very well: the cultural and commercial habits of a very particular, and very stereotypical, cross-section of young progressives. “The Bubble” is Brooklyn, essentially, presented at once as geography and as a very precise set of political assumptions. SNL, with “The Bubble,” is making fun of that, and of itself—of its own generally progressive viewers, of its own generally progressive writers. It is having fun with, but also giving credence to, one of the criticisms most commonly lobbed against progressives: that they are smug. And that they are, in their way, just as narrow-minded as the people they condemn for their provincialism. – Megan Garber, The Atlantic – 11/21/16

How dare you judge what’s become of the Right? To label a movement as fascist or racist simply on the basis of their stated beliefs and unambiguous writings makes you a bigot. It wouldn’t have a few years ago, but words no longer have any set meaning, so now you’re a bigot.

And the little joke about how they don’t see color in the bubble, and then the actress does a take? Hilarious, and cutting: bubbleheaded thinking is surely the same as government registries. Smug is the worst thing someone could be, the worst thing at all.

Stop overreacting.

There was a victory party in DC this weekend. Balloons, booze. Speeches.

soencer

Don’t be close-minded. Let’s wait and see.

The bullet will come from the Right, but we’ll be led to the wall from the Left.

Hi Phil

April 22, 2014 / / 0 Comments

bobby phil hi mom donna jerry 78

Bobby’s hair just made the Kessel Run in less than 12 parsecs and, for this evening’s performance will be played by Gary Cole

Plus, if you’ve read Phil’s book, you’ll recognize this as their SNL appearance in ’78: Phil had that “Hi Mom” shirt made up  and he was ridiculously proud of it. Sawbuck says he still has it tucked away in a closet somewhere.

And, Garcia is–as usual–totally aware of where the cameras are and which one is on and is completely playing to it; he would later declare television “jive, man” and Dan Aykroyd would agree with him.

Mrs. Donna Jean is a pirate.

Saturday Night Dead

June 6, 2012 / / 0 Comments

Found this and thought you’d like it, but before you click on it, know this: you will be going to a desert, a ghost mall of the internet, a junction far, far across the Rio Grand (EeyOoo): MySpace. There exists a MySpace. Still. I wonder if their office still has the half-pipe and yoga studio? Didn’t “Tom” die in an auto-erotic asphyxiation thing last Winter Solstice? (That’s how I mark time, because of my beliefs. TOLERATE ME.)

So, you have to go to MySpace because, well, it’s on MySpace, but mostly because I don’t know how to grab the video, so just aim your clicker over the blue letters–not the blue thing, the blue let–good aaaaaand: there’s your bank account, Grandma.  Love you, Gam. NOMNOMNOM your face Gam. Gonna kill you in your sleep, Gam. NIGHT!

EDIT: I’m not even going pretend to know what went wrong there. It’s beyond just apologizing and moving on: this is High Crime or Misdemeanor time.  Fuck…WHOO, where was he even GOING with that? These are decent folks out there getting high and listening to the Dead while reading about the Dead. Fuckin’ stoner-ass stoner asses. Who am I again? Am I the Reader or the Faithless Narrator? Sometime, he uses italics for one, and sometimes…sometimes, I think this is all just a bunch of obscure lies and silliness, man.

SUPEREDIT: Play the video or I’ll teach you what the word ‘flense’ means.

So: the Grateful Dead playing Saturday Night Live on 11/11/78. (You should open the video in a different window or, you know what?  You’re bright and capable and more than equipped to wrangle the doodads. Just be yourself all over the place.

Casey Jones on SNL

And we start off with everyone’s favorite secret genius, Buck Henry!

And Billy!

.26     It’s called conditioner, Garcia. Plus–and I’m just saying–for a guy who always bitched about being on TV, he certainly does play adorably to the cameras.

.38     Here we see Donna, who for some reason is easy skanking.

.50    Was Phil just yelling at the drummers on live TV? Seriously, can no one get Phillip Lesh to exhibit anything even resembling human behavior?

1.05   Donna was always dressed like your grade-school art teacher that time you ran into her at the supermarket.

1.15   We need to talk about Bobby’s pants. Young man, are you wearing jodhpurs? Or are they riding pantaloons? Are you playing Young George Washington? Will you golf later? If so, is your caddie Bagger Vance? Are you the renegade scion of the House of Bourbon? How are those socks staying up–is there a garter in play here? EXPLAIN YOUR PANTS.

1.45   Although if we’re going to be honest, they do hug his ‘tocks quite nicely. Bobby’s sexy and he knows it.

2.00  The slide. That’s a choice.

2.22   Hey, there are other people in this band!  (None of whom are attractive enough for a close-up, apparently.) And a great shot of both drummers, um, drumming.

3.00  Donna gives me boners.

3.12   It’s Rowlf the dog!

3.27 Hey, Mickey’s in this band!

The Stacks

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