Tag Archives: interstellar tour

Usual Rubbish

Podcast rundown: November

Just getting a few things packed away in my cozy little cabin, in the makeshift rent-a-spacecraft we’ve hired for our interstellar tour in support of Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick (our latest album). A few sticks of chewing gum, some duct tape, an x-ray of a tooth (not mine, as it happens – just some random tooth) … all stuff I wouldn’t want to be without for the stretch of weeks we’ll spend in the icy void of space. Brrrrr!

Big GreenAnyhow, before I do another hand’s turn of real work, I wanted to post my usual visitor’s guide to our most recent podcast. I know, I know – podcasts should explain themselves, right? Well, in a perfect world they would, but this world is far from perfect. Just ask Dr. Pangloss. (Wait … he’s probably exactly the person you shouldn‘t ask. Try Candide instead.)

November’s THIS IS BIG GREEN included some very useful tidbits, such as:

Ned Trek XIV: The Wrath of Carl – Amazing to hear myself say this, but this fourteenth episode of our epic Star Trek parody, starring Captain Willard Mittilius Romney, his first officer / dressage horse Mr. Ned, and a crew of neocons and misfits, pits our cast against the most terrifying enemy they’ve ever faced: a real astrophysicist (Carl Sagan), armed with actual facts about the universe (most of which we made up, but you’ll get the idea). Carl can wreck the Free Enterprise merely by commenting on it. What will Willard and Ned do? Download it and find out.

Song: Volcano Man – A selection from our album International House. We’ve played this number on the podcast before, so … here it is again. (The rapture’s comin’!)

Put The Phone Down: Matt and I talk about a wide range of issues, touching on health care, hunting, blah, and blah-blah. Some rare moments of insight. (Did I say insight? I meant instep.)

Song: Little Pig Flies – A selection from the 4-track cassette production archives, previously unreleased (of course). This number has echoes of Richard Kimball, running from Inspector Gerard. Toiling at many jobs. You get the idea.

Song: Good Old Boys Roundup (Demo Version) – The demo of a song that was intended for International House but never made it to the final version. We may have played this on the podcast before, I don’t know. Anywho, here it is … again-ish.

Back to packing. Hasta la vista.

Usual Rubbish

What to bring?

I don’t know. Do we really need a hibachi? We’re all vegetarians, except for Marvin, who only eats electricity and petroleum distillates. Well… okay, then.

Big GreenHi, friend of Big Green. What are they doing now? It’s called getting ready for an interstellar tour, as yet unnamed, to support extraterrestrial sales of our most recent album, Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick. It took us long enough, but we did secure adequate transport for the seemingly impossible journey ahead of us. (Carl Sagan would say it is simply impossible, but he is not available to comment. Ergo … it’s possible.) Some over-the-road hauler dragged the missile here from the Moon, where its (asshole) owner left it for our retrieval. Jesus H. Christ, the company brought the craft all the way from Neptune, but apparently thought the moon was close enough.

The accommodations on board, mind you, are a tad spare. Spartan, you might say. Ever read a book by one of the original NASA astronauts? Yeah, it’s kind of like that. A bit like a t.v. submarine, only with rocket engines instead of propellers and no periscope. I’m no Wilt Chamberlain, and I have to duck down low to get under the rafters. And the cockpit is full of retro-looking levers and switches. One of the toggles is marked, “Kill” – not sure Wait, it does have a periscope!what that does. I wonder … if you switch it back and forth, does something, somewhere, cease to exist and then come back to life again? Important question.

On a rack in the control room is about a dozen pressure suits that look like something out of a 1960s sci-fi movie. You know – the ones with accordion-like joints and white crash helmets with visors. I’m guessing that means there is no artificial atmosphere in this beast, but I’m counting on someone with some technical knowledge to determine that for us. Marvin (my personal robot assistant) has been serving as a surrogate mad scientist while Mitch Macaphee continues to enjoy his hammock in Madagascar (if that is where he truly is, the bounder!).

We need all the help we can get. Now, where did I pack my packing list? Hmmmmm….

Usual Rubbish

Down for the count.

Okay, I think we have this thing settled. Everyone in agreement? No? Good. We value diversity of perspective here at Big Green. Especially when LIVES HANG IN THE BALANCE….

Big GreenSorry, friends. I hate to raise my voice, but sometimes you just have to. With sketchy-looking promoters breathing down our necks (and judging by the aroma, they had limburger hoagies for lunch), we are still hashing out the details of our means of transport on our rapidly approaching interstellar tour in support of Cowboy Scat: Songs in the Key of Rick, our latest album. We have, in fact, identified a rent-a-wreck spacecraft that is within our budget. It’s being offered by a subsidiary of our corporate label, Hegemonic Records and Worm Farm, Inc., operating on the planet Neptune. Fortunately, they deliver. (But only as far as the moon. I guess that extra 239,000 miles is a bridge too far for these goons.)

Okay, my thought was this. We program Marvin (my personal assistant) with the ability to fly the craft from the moon back to Earth. Then we, well, get him to the moon somehow. Matt suggested one of those really big rubber bands, stretched between the legs of the St. Louis Arch – just aim and shoot! Sure, that sounds good, dear brother, but how the hell are we going to get to St. Lookin' good, Marvin. Louis? We can’t even get to the moon, for chrissake. Then there’s always the option of telemetry – just flying the ship here by remote control. But with Mitch Macaphee, our mad science advisor, in a hammock in Madagascar for the fourth consecutive month, we haven’t the means of contriving such a device.

Damn … if that hammock were only here instead of Madagascar, we could maybe use that instead of the rubber band. Hmmmmm…

Anyhow, I saw a picture of the ship, and it looks pretty tight. Kind of like a 1979 Oldsmobile diesel station wagon, only a little less buff. (Matt doesn’t see what I’m seeing. He thinks it’s a death trap. I see only goodness and niceness.) If I can share it with you, damn it, I will.

Well … while we’re waiting for the countdown to begin, we’ve got a podcast to finish. So, down to the basement, man the mics! Stop making sense!