The thing about sFshzenKlyrn … If you dare him to do something, he’s just liable to do it. Kind of a 14-year-old Earth kid in that way.
Second leg of our interstellar tour is now underway, and we’ve already broken some records. I mean 45s and LPs – Mitch Macaphee, our mad science advisor, insists on bringing his cache of vintage sides with him everywhere he goes. (He’s an analog kind of guy.) That’s where the dare comes in. You know how these deep space passages can be – lots of time on our hands, watching asteroids go by. A few hours pass in silence and you start looking for something to do. That’s when anti-Lincoln dared sFshzenKlyrn to spin a record in mid air with his heat ray vision. Now, I know what you’re going to say … they are in Big Green’s entourage, and therefore, their actions are our responsibility. Well… that only makes sense on Planet Earth, my friends. Whole different ball game out yonder.
Well all right, so… whoever may ultimately be responsible, sFshzenklyrn started spinning that sucker with his various rays, turning it several notches faster than 45rpm I suppose, until it shattered into splinters. As luck would have it, the artificial gravity was off at that moment, so the shards just floated off in all directions. (I’m still finding them in the oddest places.) Now, one would think that that experience would have been enough to discourage any further attempts at the same, but if one would think that, one would most certainly be wrong. Explosions are what Anti-Lincoln lives for. They are his elixir. He must have more!
All those rare sides! Some of them broken to bits, others vaporized, some melted into caramel-like pretzels. A dismal end for Mitch’s record collection, to be sure. He didn’t take it very well. In fact, I think he’s building something special for Anti-Lincoln… something that may be the gift of a lifetime. Marvin (my personal robot assistant) has a sixth sense about these things, and he’s been avoiding Mitch’s cabin like it’s a fire hole. (For all I know, it may be a fire hole. Fire in the hole!) Crikey… if we make it to Antares in one piece, I will be astounded.
B.t.w. – our next gig is on Antares, that crazy red giant in Scorpio. (Our old neighbor Gung-Ho thinks it’s a commie solar system, but that’s just his thing.) Let you know when we get there.
Point two: Corporate cash. It likely has not escaped your attention that corporate interests – spearheaded by the U.S. Chamber of Commerce – are pouring money into this election like never before. Newly empowered by the Supreme Court’s execrable Citizens United decision, non-party groups are performing as cutouts for the financial industry, the energy sector, manufacturing, you name it. Karl Rove’s groups alone have raised more than $50 million and are now shooting for $65 million; the Chamber something like $75 million. They see an opportunity to bag this election, and they’re willing to spend the coin to make it happen.
Just coming off of a ripping good string of performances on Neptune, mother of all Big Green fans in the outer rings of our solar system. (Good to know we’re still loved by someone… or some THING.) When I say “ripping good”, I mean it certainly seemed that way to us. As some of you may know, however, the atmosphere on Neptune contains many elements not prevalent in our own sweet Earth-bound air, so frankly, after a couple of sets breathing that stuff, I get a little punchy. You could tell me iron is chocolate and I’d believe you. You could tell me Carl Paladino is sane, and I’d buy it. It’s just that crazy. So… we may have played well, but possibly not. Or “splunge”, as Monty Python would put it.
many of the objects are molten or flaming. Mitch Macaphee, our mad science advisor, developed flame resistant suits for us to wear on stage, but they are less than comfortable. Suffice to say, we are good duckers. I’ve also programmed Marvin (my personal robot assistant) to emit a robotian cry every time some projectile is header our way. “INCOMING!” he shouts, and we know just what to do.