Isaac Hayes' Three Laws of Robotics
- A robot must risk his neck for his brother man, and may not cop out when there's danger all about.
- A robot must be a sex machine to all the chicks, except where such actions conflict with the will of his main woman.
- A robot must at all times strive to be one bad motha-shutchyomouth.
``Oh, it's like that?'' Mr. Cheney queried.
As a quick-thinking senatorial aide switched on the Senate's public-address system and cued up the infamous "Seven Minutes of Funk" break, Mr. Leahy and Mr. Cheney went head-to-head in what can only be described as a "take no prisoners" freestyle rap battle. Despite the fact that both participants brought their A-game and succeeded in dropping mad scientifics, the bout seemed to end in a draw.
DNA Lounge: Wherein we explore equipment failure and rock star attitude.
I took photos, but it was really difficult. It was pretty crowded up front, and W.A.S.P. had us rent barricades for in front of the stage. This made it pretty hard to get decent shots: those barricades make it hard to move around near them, and when I went on the stage side of the barricades to shoot, I was too close and was getting these great shots right up peoples' noses.
The barricades were totally unnecessary, of course. The crowd was enthusiastic, but there wasn't even a pit. We've had rougher goth shows here.
Then, when I got home, I found that 2/3rds of my pictures were toast: most of Sparrow's Point and all of W.A.S.P. were zero-length when I got them off the card. I don't know if the card got corrupted, or if this was the "your computer is our learning experience" Linux USB drivers screwing me again, but either way, zap.
- Apparently W.A.S.P. gave Sparrow's Point a lot of shit after they played together in LA last night for "upstaging" them. Which I guess means "putting on a more energetic and entertaining show."
- We printed up some W.A.S.P. posters to sell (same image as the flyer), and the band agreed to have their merch guy sell them for us. He put them on display by hiding them under a stack of t-shirts. He was actively trying not to sell them, so the only way any got sold was if someone spotted someone else walking around with one and asked where they got it. Sweet.
So, we've got a big stack of those posters left. If you want to buy one, ask the next time you're at the club. We've got a bunch of the Sister Machine Gun posters left, too. (This selling posters thing, it's not working out so well.)
oh those kids today
Do not frighten the citizens, over.
The official cover-up was ordered by San Diego Police Chief William Lansdowne [...] Under the new rules, uniformed police must ensure that their dress blues hide any tattoos, brands or "scarifications" that are "excessive," or visible over more than 30 percent of their biceps, forearms or hands. The rules also outlaw most inked skin renderings above the officer's collarbone, at a time when body art has become big business across the country.
The crackdown came after members of the public complained of excessively decorated police at community meetings and also after a few emergency calls. Some victims of crime were taken aback by the sight of extensively tattooed patrolmen turning up to help them, the chief said. "We have had complaints from citizens who called and said they didn't believe that (the cops) were police officers," he said.
DNA Lounge: Wherein you admire our bouncy castle, for starters.
Photos of that, and of tonight's Glis / Regenerator / Ayria / Title show are now available for your convenience.
consume, obey, no thought
But I just love this statement:
Meyer said the company generally does not run copy that would be unsuitable for children or cause them to ask difficult questions.
Those meddling kids and their difficult questions!