MY LETTER TO THE MINNESOTA SWARM

So some marketing monkey at the Minnesota Swarm Lacrosse team is trolling MySpace trying to get bands to participate in an "Extreme Battle of the Bands" at the Xcel Energy Center. They sent a message to the Die Electric! page. What follows is my response:

Jora Deziel
Account Service Executive Minnesota Wild Hockey Club
Minnesota Swarm Lacrosse

Jora,

A "Battle of the Bands," you say?

That could be fun. And may I add that your use of the word “extreme” sure makes it sound exciting! Can I assume Mountain Dew be served?

We in the band, Die Electric! would love to know more! For instance; what kind of weapons will be allowed? In past battle of the bands we have fought, only one’s chosen instrument could be wielded. That’s fine by us, but since it’s “EXTREME,” we were kind of wondering if we could use samurai and/or broad swords? I’m guessing the answer is “no,“ but then it never hurts to ask.

If swords are proscribed, I will be sure to bring my, “hitting people” guitar, rather than my “guitar playing” guitar.

Before I forget, are blows to the head allowed? At the Hopkins Area High School battle of the bands a few years back, I was disqualified for striking a teenage keyboard player in a Cars cover band “above the neck.” (As far as I know, he still accepts all sustenance through a complicated apparatus of pumps and tubes.)

(They may have said, “no heads” before we started, but I sure don’t remember hearing it!)

And what about the classic, “Drum Stick Eye Gouge?” This maneuver was perfected by Rick Buckler of The Jam at the “City of Manchester Community Centre Battle of the Bands” in April of 1976. It has fallen out of favor with many of the kids today, but our drummer, Josh, is a masterful practitioner of the move. He would like to know if it is accepted in your rules.

On a similar note, are nylon-tipped sticks allowed? While not the best for actually playing the drums, they are particularly well-suited to the eye gouge because the tips themselves easily detach and become lodged behind the Sclera, thus exerting pressure on the optic nerve and rendering the opponent temporarily without sight.

Or, permanently. Either way.

Our bass player, Dave, is primarily concerned with what he calls, “the electrocution question.” Possessed of astonishing wiring and electronics skills, he has developed a method of channeling electrical output from his SUNN COLUSEIUM amp through the body of his bass (he has quite ingeniously come up with a way to keep himself fully “grounded”) whereupon the current travels to the tip of the headstock and can then be discharged into an opponents chest, usually stopping their very heart from beating.

Boy, it’s something to see! (Lots of twitching, if you know what I mean?)

So yes, more specific information on the rules and how to register would be most welcome.

We would very much like to help you promote an exciting activity like Professional Indoor Lacrosse! Let’s face it, a “sport” practiced almost exclusively by well-to-do white kids at prep schools and eastern universities --and UNDERGROUND ROCK MUSIC, largely played by people who grew-up wanting to rid the world of such people-- just seems like a perfect combination!

(Note: Whoever signed-off on this in your Marketing Department deserves a raise!)

Yours Most Sincerely,

Brian David Shuey Die Electric!

MY LETTER TO THE ALUMNI DIRECTORY

I recently received a mailing indicating that a company in Virginia is compiling an Alumni Directory for my old high school, Central Dauphin (which is in fact, in Pennsylvania.) They included an address in Norfolk or, for my convenience, a toll-free telephone number to reach them. It seems they would really rather not print the directory without my current biographical information. I agree that that would be unfortunate. My immediate response is "urgently requested." What follows is the letter I sent them:


Alvin J. Himmelman
xxxx Nicollet Ave S. #xx
Minneapolis, MN 55404


To Whom It May Concern,

My name is Alvin Himmelman. I am writing you regarding your recent attempts to contact Brian Shuey for the purposes of including him in the Central Dauphin High School Alumni Directory. While Mr. Shuey did at one time reside at the address in your records (he was my roommate) he left Minneapolis for a life on the high seas over six months ago.

The last time anyone heard from him, he was working on a tramp steamer that sailed out of Jakarta. Two months ago the "Lady Macbeth" was reported attacked and boarded by pirates 20 miles out of Medan in the Straits of Malacca. It has not been heard from since.

So it is with regrets that I inform you that Brian Shuey (Personal ID#: JZK0018671-LB) is currently listed by the U.S. State Department as, "whereabouts unknown."

Anyone who knew Brian would tell you that he was a cheap hustler and something of a swine. However, in honor of his memory I have little doubt that he would like to be listed in your directory as, "Whereabouts Unknown. Presumed Lost At Sea." (It would befit his overly dramatic nature.)

At the present time I have no more detailed information than this. However, if you should somehow manage to track him down, please inform him of the following:

-Your dog, "King Vitamin" is dead. It was not my fault. Not surprisingly, it was his fondness for chasing the #18 that finally did him in.

-I never returned those movies to Nicollet Village Video like I said I would.

-Stuff with me and Becky just sort of happened. Neither one of us planned it. Don't be too mad.

-Needless to say, you have been fired from your job.

-Your Mom keeps calling. I just let the machine get it. She sounds worried.

-I broke one of the controllers on your PlayStation. It was the one that kind of stuck anyway.

-You owe me a lot of money for bills. In light of the Becky thing, I'm willing to call it even.


Thank you for your time and attention to these matters. You may feel free to contact me by mail with any further questions.


Best Regards,

Alvin J. Himmelman

Is It Okay If I Have A Cigarette AFTER I Fuck Your Wife?

Those of you who know me are aware that I AM A SMOKER. You will also know that I am quite unapologetic about it. I am an adult. It is a legal product. I, in no way consider myself to be a social deviant. What's more, I kind of resent anyone who regards me as such.

Bearing this in mind, I have of late noticed a very odd trend running through the "sex classifieds" in the back of our local alternative weekly. Offers of, and requests for the most puerile, freaky and dare I say, unwholesome sexual acts are punctuated by the stipulation that the participant be a NON-SMOKER! (Emphasis theirs.)

Am I the only one-- smoker or otherwise-- who finds something perplexing in this. To wit:

WILD TIMES: ISO hot 18-30 guy. Fuck my ass until I scream! Come on my chest! N/S

Let me get this straight, "WILD TIMES." You are in no way concerned about my height, weight, personal hygiene, or political affiliations? As long as I don't smoke I am welcome to make your hind quarters the very gardens of my delight? You don't think that maybe your concerns ought to lay somewhere else?

Here's one that appeared recently:

BISEXUAL THREE WAYS: I am a bisexual male, 5'7", 140lbs, nice-looking, late 30's looking for others who enjoy Male-Male-Female three ways. Nonsmoker preferred (He will be "providing" the Female.)

So you would have no problem inviting a total stranger into your home to-- among other things-- WATCH HIM FUCK YOUR WIFE, but you'd really rather I didn't smoke? Because hey, lets face it. That would just be gross. (The smoking, I mean.)

Am I losing my mind? How did I end up getting kicked to society's margins by people who allow strangers to stick their fists in places ill-equipped to accept them while wearing S.S uniforms and listening to the original cast album from, "The Sound Of Music?"

In the interest of fostering openness and friendship, I would like to propose that we come to an understanding. I do not now and have never had a problem with the folks who place these ads. What grown-ups do with other grown-ups is nobody's business but theirs. Just don't be so damn snooty about the whole smoking thing. I'm starting to feel like an outcast. Remember how that feels?

Brian David Shuey

Confidential to swinging suburban couples: If she doesn't move too much I know for a fact that I can balance an ashtray on the small of her back. Are you hot yet? CALL ME!

MY WORST NIGHTMARE REALIZED

So my previous "Worst Nightmare Realized" was being stuck between floors on an elevator with a half dozen teenage musical theater students.

You can't imagine what torture is until you are trapped in a 8'x5'* box and forced to witness a gang of 14-year-old drama kids go from practicing their lines to, "living-out a REAL LIFE drama!" (An actual quote from one.) When we finally got out (after five minutes) they all hugged and wanted to talk about how, "it had changed them." Jesus.

My experiences today were almost on par.

I found myself with a savage hangover being shoved this way and that in the opressivly narrow confines of The Unique Thrift Store. It's truly depressing to witness a person surrender what's left of their dignity to shove a fellow human being out of the way... just to get to a BROKEN LEMON-YELLOW BUTTER DISH!

The only person who actually said, "excuse me" did so as though I had just pissed on her coffee table. THEN she knocked me out of the way. (I think it was to get at a used VHS copy of "The Heavenly Kid")

I could possibly have handled it all, but for the fact that the entire time Billy Joel's, "Piano Man" was being pumped through every tinny loud speaker-- broken only by screeching employees paging countless parents to come claim their countless lost children. Most were still waiting unclaimed in a corral as I left. Free babysitting.

The only revenge I got-- if you can call it that-- was to set every mechanical alarm clock in the place to go off ten minutes after I had left. For my own sake I would like to imagine it caused more mayhem than it probably did... "OHH baby, lookie thar, an alarm clock! An' it ain't even broke! Let's git 'er!"Brian David Shuey

* 1.52 meters by 2.44 meters, for my metric savvy friends.