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 April 29, 1998 In this issue: |
 Funked-Up Muzak Full Metal Jetta Gonzorama Living Color Gathering Up The Cheese |
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The Passenger's job is alpha-prime. Try to prove me wrong. Even as we speak,
I am literally beyond the infinite -- the reclusive engineering arm of
Department Lemur have successfully built and launched the first high-orbit,
70's-chic costume ball and cocktail mixer. The Zombies are flowing freely
(poured by an android that bears an uncanny likeness to Henry Africa), Seka
films are looping in the Nano-Tech Lounge and those old Steely Dan 8-tracks
are booming like the music of the spheres. With all this and heaven too, you
might think The Passenger would fail in his pop culture duties. Think again. |
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I HAVE A CAR WAITING
Road rage? Don't make me laugh. I'm behind the wheel of my tricked-out
Chevrolet Suburban 2500, fortified with such non-factory goodies as
multi-layered ballistic glass, opaque steel armor, ram bumpers, gun ports, a
remote starter with bomb scan, supplemental oxygen tanks, the ever-popular
global positioning system and an underbody blast protection system that
defeats grenades. The Ogara Company custom armors
vehicles and trains drivers to deal with what is fast becoming a normal Los
Angeles commute. Never fear valet parking again. |
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ORDERS FROM CAP'N ZEEP
The film of Hunter S. Thompson's funny, desperate novel "Fear and Loathing
In Las Vegas" slithers into theaters May 22, and we're as ready as we're
going to get. Director Terry Gilliam ("Brazil," "12 Monkeys") has taken
Thompson's savage roadtrip and transformed it into a neon freakout of the
first order. Even the official site is
bent, with a well-executed Shockwave version of the popular story and a
fitting end to Godzilla. Lengthy production notes explain how co-stars Johnny
Depp and Benecio DelToro helped Gilliam transform the death of the 60s into
the last gasp of the millenium. Mere pharmaceuticals cannot begin to
approximate the monkey fun you'll have here. |
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A BETTER TOMORROW
The page of multimedia artist Dike Blair only hints at the artist's playful sensibility. Drawing from influences
ranging from Disney World's EPCOT Center to the employees of your local
strip bar, Blair's work takes the cold wash of reality, breaks it down to
its base matter, and rebuilds it from the atoms up with a proclivity for
offbeat colors and shapes. The piecemeal nudes of his 1993 Grey Goo Lounge
installation turn smut into something oddly scientific, while his recent
gouaches make dreamlike work of such flat, utilitarian objects as napkin
dispensers and steering wheels. The Passenger's only regret is that you
can't hear Blair describe his own work live, as did just last week at a
Vegas opening; his self-deprecating charm almost masks the pride Blair must
feel, turning out such visionary work. Almost. |
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REELING IN THE YEAST What'd he say? The Archive of Misheard Lyrics even takes its URL from a famous misunderstood song lyric -- the infamous " 'scuse me while I kiss the sky" verse from Jimi Hendrix' "Purple Haze." Readers mail in their versions of popular song excerpts, explain how they arrived at their conclusions and even rate their version against the original. Paula Cole's musical question "Where is my prairie song?" becomes "Where is my fuzzy sock?" Peter Gabriel celebrates "Jacques the Monkey." Pink Floyd's "Another Brick In The Wall" becomes the sad story of "Another Mother Breaking The Law." A special input page allows you to submit your own entries to what may be one of the flat-out funniest pages on the web, hands down. Bring your dusty cajun rug! Rock the asphalt! Baby, you wouldn't believe how well bellbottoms flare in zero gravity. The Passenger has just espied a well-fitted pair on a neo-Barbarella by the Kubrick shrine, so he'll leave you in the charge of fate until next week. Peace!
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