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New Osama bin Laden Video Shooting Up Charts"Don'tcha Fuck wit Ma Allah" in heavy rotation January 21, 2002 |
Daisycutter, CT Anna Basil/AP Osama b. illin'
Following on the heels of the first two singles from "...in da Hizzouse,...
he latest video from self-styled "gangsta wrapped in a bedsheet" Osama bin Laden appears to be the most successful offering yet from his recent album. Produced and directed by Mullah Omar tha Hit Maker, from 2001's "Ol' Dirty bin Laden in da Hizzouse," the video, "Don'tcha Fuck wit Ma Allah," is the third single to chart. It is now in heavy rotation on VH1, has been shown many times on that network's popular Pop Up Video program, and is number one with a bullet on Al Jazeera's afternoon show, Fundamentalist Dance Party. It is also rumored that a twenty-second clip of the video was aired on MTV at approximately 4 AM Tuesday of last week, but those rumors could not be confirmed at the time we went to press.
Following on the heels of the first two singles from "...in da Hizzouse," this latest single promises to make it his most successful album ever, and could garner him a nomination for Comeback Artist of the Year.
Not many people would have predicted that when the first video from the album was released. "Wha' da 911?" suffered from poor production values, and many critics thought it ran overlong, causing viewers to quickly lose interest in the muddy sound mix. The second video, "I Ain't Dead Yet, Bitch," showed more promise, but topped out at number 37 on the charts and disappeared after just a few short weeks. "Don'tcha Fuck wit Ma Allah" appears to have staying power the first two singles lacked.
There are some dissenting voices, however. On the East Coast, especially, a few insiders who preferred to remain anonymous commented that "his shit is dead, man, it ain't fresh." In response, noted Marin County, California, critic John Walker Lindh was quoted as saying "That Al Qaeda beat is funky stupid, dawg, and Osama is Playa Numbah One. It's phat, it's phresh, it's... uh... it's phluffy. You can totally dance to it."
This album marks only the second release for bin Laden since his move to Al Qaeda Mob Records. The first effort, 1993's "Truck Bombin' NYC," failed to generate much critical acclaim, and dropped out of sight soon after its release due to poor sales. Prior to that, it had been a number of years since any product had been put out at all. In the late '80s and early '90s, bin Laden collaborated with former U.S. president George H. W. Bush (the one that was actually elected) in a series of forgettable albums for the now-troubled label CIA Assassin Records and Wiretaps. Their most notable release was titled "Tha Enemy of Ma Muthafuckin' Enemy," and prominently featured Bush, performing under the name Pukeface Killah GH-Dub, with his minor hit, "Nitty Ditty Gritty Big Bird." Bin Laden's contribution to that song was the turntable-scratching and chanted background chorus, "Yo, muthafuckah, yo muthafuckah, yo muthafucka, yo." The only other song from that mix to chart at all was a cover of Tone Loc's "Funky Cold Medina." the commune news wishes to go on, like a blister in the sun. Bludney Plud doesn't suffer from self-esteem issues, he revels in them. With a revel yell, he cries "More, more, more."
 | Ashcroft Leads Hands-On Instruction TeamAttorney General seeks to nip terrorism in the bud January 21, 2002 |
Hindquarter, VA Alexa Doogle At-risk youths await anti-terrorist training
Citing a need to "keep American boys on their toes and pure from the effects of Islamic terrorists," Attorney General John Ashcroft, in an impromptu press conference yesterday, unveiled a plan to teach young men from the ages of 8 to 15 how to recognize the signs that they are being, or are about to be, recruited, seduced and/or molested by Muslim fanatics. In an unprecedented gesture of self-sacrifice, and sweating profusely as he spoke, the Attorney General said that he has taken it upon himself to personally teach "as many boys as I possibly can."
ll it took was one crying 10-year-old boy spotted bolting out of a prominent federal office, wearing what appeared to be darkly-stained lederhosen, to signal a surprising new twist in the ongoing war against terrorism.
Citing a need to "keep American boys on their toes and pure from the effects of Islamic terrorists," Attorney General John Ashcroft, in an impromptu press conference yesterday, unveiled a plan to teach young men from the ages of 8 to 15 how to recognize the signs that they are being, or are about to be, recruited, seduced and/or molested by Muslim fanatics. In an unprecedented gesture of self-sacrifice, and sweating profusely as he spoke, the Attorney General said that he has taken it upon himself to personally teach "as many boys as I possibly can."
"You've got to get them young," Ashcroft said. "Otherwise, there's no telling what kind of corrupting influences they may have had that will keep them from realizing the terrible tragedy that potentially awaits them at the hands of these fundamentalist zealots. That's why I'm making it my personal mission to educate these fine, young, trim, well-proportioned… uh… boys."
"It's a known fact that these terrorists are bound and determined to infiltrate our society and subjugate our way of life by forcibly introducing our youth to the Homosexual Agenda," Ashcroft went on to say. "Why, just look at the pictures we have of them—most of them walk around every day in these long white dresses! You can't tell me these fellows aren't a little light in their loafers, or sandals, or whatever it is they wear on their feet. Maybe kicky black patent leather pumps, who knows?"
The program apparently involves hands-on demonstrations of the types of Arabic buggery that Ashcroft claims is widespread throughout the Middle East, and that poses a significant threat to the well-being of male American youth. "We show them—and I mean we show them good—just what those terrorists have in store for them if they're not careful. After all, you know what it says in that fake Bible of theirs, the Also-ran—excuse me, I mean the Ko-ran—'in sexual congress, for children, a woman. For pleasure, a boy.' It also goes on to say, 'for real pleasure, like you've never had before, an overripe melon,' but we'll leave the melons alone for the time being. Better, we think, to concentrate on the boys."
When asked about the actual methods of instruction, Ashcroft said, "We simply follow what it says in the real Bible—you know, 'Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.' We also like the passage that says 'Thou anointest me with oil.' In fact, we're ordering up dozens of cases of Crisco for this project, with the money coming out of the Homeland Security budget. I'm envisioning a number of one-on-one, or maybe a few two-on-one sessions, as many as I can fit into my schedule, with as many young, nubile, half-dressed… er… boys as we can recruit, here in my private, comfortable, tastefully-appointed office."
The Attorney General, when asked if he had a list of boys who might qualify for this training, replied that he had approximately 600 young men in mind to get the program off the ground, but that he would not reveal any names, on the grounds of national security. "You think I want to hand Osama bin Laden a ready-made list of American boys to pursue for his evil, filthy machinations? No sir. No sir. We're keeping this list private, and that's that. Just me and Ari and Karl. Not even the president has access to those names. No sir." Ashcroft then mopped the considerable sweat from his brow and called an end to the press conference, ignoring the muffled wails heard far down the corridor from his office. the commune news is like a burst of fruit flavor, or a burst of something at least. Boner Cunningham feels it is his appointed duty, he keeps trying to tell me, uh huh, all you want to do is use me.
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 January 21, 2002 Call of the Bugle BoyWell, bless this mess, Shorty! You ever see a toe done swole up 'at big? It's durn the size of Fran Hufnagel's bosom now. No, the left one, Shorty. Shyeeoot, ain't you never seen a infection of this cal'ber, Shorty? Well, sure 'nuff, look who I'm talking at.
There's a buddy of mine, you know 'im, Shorty, Jeff T. Silobottom, he says the only way to sure-fire cure a infection of gangrenous p'portions is to get on that thing and suck it full force 'n' get all the sick outta there. Jeff T. Silobottom, you remember 'im? He died a few years back now. Some mysterious mouth ailment, I do believe. Kind soul, but his advice is less useful than a Democrat at a gun club picnic.
All this talk of suckin' reminds me of a awful urge I gotten lately, Shorty. You know what I'm talk...
º Last Column: Chicken in a Bisket
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Well, bless this mess, Shorty! You ever see a toe done swole up 'at big? It's durn the size of Fran Hufnagel's bosom now. No, the left one, Shorty. Shyeeoot, ain't you never seen a infection of this cal'ber, Shorty? Well, sure 'nuff, look who I'm talking at.
There's a buddy of mine, you know 'im, Shorty, Jeff T. Silobottom, he says the only way to sure-fire cure a infection of gangrenous p'portions is to get on that thing and suck it full force 'n' get all the sick outta there. Jeff T. Silobottom, you remember 'im? He died a few years back now. Some mysterious mouth ailment, I do believe. Kind soul, but his advice is less useful than a Democrat at a gun club picnic.
All this talk of suckin' reminds me of a awful urge I gotten lately, Shorty. You know what I'm talkin' 'bout. Yessir, every once in a cycle I get me the hankerin' to lissen up to some bugle music. Which reminds me here of a story I do believe you ain't heard none yet. It's about a ol' army boy, bugle player, Donny Calhoun.
Donny was a good ol' boy, one o' the better of the good ol' boys. He went and signed up to fight in the double-double-U two, can't get more r'spectful of the country than to sign up for the service, you know. Sure 'nuff I would have were it not for my trick knee and flat foot on the right side, you know to which I'm referring, Shorty. And you needn't explain again about your fear of gettin' killed, I perfectly unnerstand. But despite our failin's, Donny Calhoun got in the service fine and was defending our right to avoid painful humiliation on the battlefield over in that far away German place, I forget the name of it now.
Donny's job was to blow on the bugle when this fancy red light come flashin'. The red light warned of air raids an' business comin', and the bugle horn sound was demanded to warn the sleepin' army men of a air raid, in which case they could get up and get to the bombin' shelter to keep from getting' bombed up by the enemy. You're right, Shorty, a more important job there'n never was in the army, at least for the purposes of this here story.
Well, Donny settled in and got all soft and easy-goin' what with the enemy on the run. Last thing anyone expected was a attack at this point. The Nazis was runnin' for the hills, and the good guys were in hot pursuit. So nobody was more'n surprised but poor Donny when a attack did come. To beat all, Donny had been dippin' into a mess o' radishes since no one else in camp wanted 'em, and he also dug deep into some bean pudding mailed from home. This here combination was not a wise idea, as you can 'magine.
So Donny's in camp holdin' his achin' belly when the red light starts flashin'. He's done panicked right, he ain't seen a red light in months and almost plum forgot what to do. But he sucks it up in good fashion and darts out the tent and up the highest tower in the camp.
As you know, Shorty, climbin' high ladders and sick stomachs don't rightly mix, and Donny's only human. He gets to the top o' the tower and he can't summon the breath to blow the bugle. And his belly's about to blow out from the inside with all the vittles fightin' up a storm in there. Donny's so upset he's about cryin', he can even see Hitler's planes comin' in low in the weak sunlight o' the mornin'. This is the time for heroes, Shorty.
Well, what Donny Calhoun did won't be in any learnin' books, Shorty. Ol' boy Donny won't be getting' any purple hearts or green clovers for his effort in the great war. But he saved lives and that's all 'at matters. The men scrambled out of the beds to the sound of the most awful chokin' horn and the flattest note in history, but it woke 'em up. Kinda sounded like a dead beagle's last howl of pain 'fore he meets his maker, spoken into a high quality micr'phone.
Them boys rush out of the tent and see the red light flashin', the German horseflies closin' in, and Donny Calhoun in the highest tower with a bugle stickin' out his backside. That tol' them all they needed to know. They got to the shelter and avoided a awful German decapitatin'.
Poor ol' Donny didn't make it. He missed gettin' all bombed, but died later o' complications from removin' of a bugle from one's personals. His s'periors listed his death as unnatural causes. Now all that's left o' Donny is the stories, passed down from one good ol' boy to the next.
And his horn, which I happen to have right here. You can play a bugle, can't ya, Shorty? º Last Column: Chicken in a Bisketº more columns | 
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Quote of the Day“If you're not a liberal when you're 25, you have no heart. If you're not a conservative by the time you're 35, you have no inheritance. Die already, Uncle Franco… just… die.”
-Winthrop ShurikenFortune 500 CookieWho's the man? More specifically, who's the man who shattered your kneecap with a club and took you out of the competition? Now would be a good time to switch to NetFlix from your previous practice of watching the movie on the video store display TVs. Keep your eye on the sparrow. Lucky jeans: Levi, Bugle Boy, Lee, and Auel.
Try again later.Women Other Than Christina Ricci We Want Chained to Our Radiator| 1. | Original Wednesday Addams, Lisa Loring | | 2. | Landlady—You spend the night there and tell me it's heating just fine | | 3. | Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen (still count as one) | | 4. | Diana Rigg, circa 1968; or now, what the hell | | 5. | Anybody but that hippie chick protesting for radiator rights I got now | |
|   Barnsley Wins First Annual Smoka Bowl BY roland mcshyster 1/7/2002 Hello hello, America and welcome to a very special Entertainment Police with which to ring in the New Year! The time has come for the first ever "Ask Roland Special Edition," and if that doesn't put exciting lumps in your oatmeal, I don't know what will. As I'm sure you all know, your old friend Roland gets all kinds of letters, faxes and emails here at the commune and under the windshield wipers of my car and I do my best to answer them in the semi-regular feature that you've come to know and love as… "Ask Roland!" But sometimes due to space considerations, I just can't get to every last letter and they start to pile up around here. When that happens, I sort them into different piles based on the kind of question being asked and whether or not any naked pictures came in the env...
Hello hello, America and welcome to a very special Entertainment Police with which to ring in the New Year! The time has come for the first ever "Ask Roland Special Edition," and if that doesn't put exciting lumps in your oatmeal, I don't know what will. As I'm sure you all know, your old friend Roland gets all kinds of letters, faxes and emails here at the commune and under the windshield wipers of my car and I do my best to answer them in the semi-regular feature that you've come to know and love as… "Ask Roland!" But sometimes due to space considerations, I just can't get to every last letter and they start to pile up around here. When that happens, I sort them into different piles based on the kind of question being asked and whether or not any naked pictures came in the envelope with the letter. Seeing as there's squat in the theaters right now that's interesting to write about, I figured this was a perfect time to address my biggest pile, which is all letters asking about famous Hollywood legends and rumors. So sit back, relax, and drink in the "Ask Roland Hollywood Legends Special Edition!"
Q. Yo, Roland, I was hangin' over at my buddy Steve's house and we were, like watching some TV and the Wizard of Oz comes on and Steve says to me, he says "Dude, you know if you play some Floyd or some shit while you're watching this movie, it'll like totally fuck up your life, right?" and I said no way Steve, and I pissed in his aquarium. But anyway, I asked this other dude down at the head shop about it and he says it's totally true, that if you watch the Wizard of Oz at the same time as you're playing Dark Side, you'll trip into some alternate dimension or some shit. No way! So what's the deal Roland, are they totally yanking my shank or what?
Chuck Meadley, Hangrow, Vermont
A. It's totally true, Chuck. Except your drug-addled friends seem to have mixed up a few basic details in that what you actually have to do is listen to Nick Drake's 1972 classic "Pink Moon" while you're watching The Wizard of Oz, preferably on Betamax. The album is like a perfect soundtrack to the film, even though you have to restart it four times during the course of the movie and there's no dialogue so you never know quite what the hell is going on. But you'll be shocked out of your socks when "Which Will" plays right when the wicked witch is shaking her broom at Dorothy and again when "Things Behind the Sun" plays during the scene when Dorothy gives the Wizard a knob-job behind that big fake sun prop.
Also, if you play the album backwards, while fast-forwarding through the film, a small elf will come out of your television set and give you a kiss on the nose. You heard it here first. And this isn't the only album-movie synchronicity that you should check out. Hip listeners have known for years that Elton John's "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" forms a perfect counterpoint to the 1980 classic "Herbie Goes Bananas," and some folks say "The Graduate" is pretty cool if you watch it while listening to some Simon & Garfunkel, too.
Q. Hey Roland, is it true that a bunch of hicks were watching "Twister" at the Drive-In when the Drive-In itself was hit by a tornado? Man, talk about your special effects!
Meryl Dunkle, Pitchwater, VA
A. Don't quit your day job, Meryl. This is another example of a true story that gets blown way out of proportion in the telling. What really happened was that some out-of-work fish-hook bender in Alabama was watching Twister on video in his trailer home when a tornado hit the trailer park, picked up his trailer, and dumped it right in front of the drive-thru of a nearby Rax. The guy didn't realize there'd been a tornado, even though a live pig was blown in his bedroom window and had sex with his sleeping wife. He just thought someone had built a Rax on his property, so he went nuts and shot a bunch of kids or something. Business as usual in Alabama, I'm afraid. So even though it would be really cool if your Drive-In story was true, Meryl, real life just isn't that strange.
Q. Roland. Is true Three Men Baby? Nastenk tell dead boy of movie. In window! Tell of apartment boy dead of shotgun. I do not of belief. You drunking, Nastenk! You get out from my window! Roland, you think? Is true?
Marfushka Khvylya, Bronx, New York
A. Well Marfushka, I'm going to run with the idea that you're asking about the infamous "Three Men and a Baby" suicide rumor, because otherwise I don't know what in the hell you're talking about. Ever since the video release of "Three Men and a Baby," people have been saying that they see the ghostly image of a boy with a shotgun standing in a window in the background of one of the apartment scenes. Rumor has it that the boy committed suicide with a shotgun in that very apartment, which was later rented by the studio for use in the film. Pretty creepy, huh? Even creepier is the true story!
In fact, the ghostly figure is not a boy at all, but rather the infamous suicidal munchkin who hanged himself on-camera during the filming of The Wizard of Oz. "Three Men and a Baby" wasn't filmed in a real apartment, but rather on a Hollywood soundstage, and one known to be haunted by the munchkin's ghost, no less. It's been known around Hollywood for years that the munchkin's ghost has been sneaking into dozens of films and hamming it up for the camera, appearing in the background of such diverse movies as "Breakin' 2," "Cannonball Run," and "Young Einstein." Creepier still is the fact that when you watch the Wizard of Oz while listening to Nick Drake's "Pink Moon," during the Tin Woodsman scene, the munchkin suicide coincides perfectly with Drake singing the line "I'm hung up on little things," no fooling!
Q. Greetings, Roland. I'm curious as to your take on the old Hollywood legend of James Dean's Death Car, and the rumors that several of the car's subsequent owners met with untimely ends as well, like in that one episode of Alf. Should we place any stock in these stories of "Little Bastard" and it's legacy of woe?
Sterling Bosnich, Santa Fe, New Mexico
A. Interesting question, Sterling. For years people seem to have been intoxicated by the lore surrounding James Dean's car. And although Dean himself considered his car to be cursed, the rumors that have surfaced in the years since his death have been totally unfounded. Few doubt that Dean's car was remarkable: a remarkable piece of shit. Many have understandably turned to the supernatural to explain the behavior of this rusted-out shitbox El Camino that wouldn't roll down a hill unless the parking brake was on. No one knows how great Dean's film legacy could have been if he'd had more reliable transportation. He was considered a shoe-in to play the starring role in "Gone with the Wind," but the car's air conditioner exploded on the way to the audition, spraying mosquito-egg infested water all over the interior of the car. When Dean pulled over to inspect the damage, the engine caught on fire and this shitty Herb Albert 8-track that he was only borrowing to appease a pushy buddy of his melted permanently into the radio. The knobs even melted solid but the radio continued to work, blasting Herb Albert and the Tijuana Brass at full volume every time he started the car from then on. Even after this incident, the car continued to run, though just enough to piss Dean off and to keep him from buying a newer car. The windshield leaked, the entire front end was held on by a bungee cord, there was a spring that poked up through the driver's seat and the windshield wipers only worked when it was warm out, at which time they ran constantly and couldn't be turned off.
The car didn't earn the nickname "Little Bastard," however, until the night of Dean's infamous arrest when he ran over an aluminum can while driving behind a police car. Little Bastard, as if on cue, simultaneously lost it's muffler and the horn began to blare constantly, which it continued to do for two whole days until someone took an axe to the hood of the car in a police impound lot. Dean was arrested for embarrassing the police officers, who thought they had driven onto the railroad tracks and bailed out of their squad car in the middle of Hollywood Boulevard. However, remarkable as this car may have been, the rumors of its subsequent owners meeting with suspicious ends are untrue. After Dean owned the car, it was sold to a Puerto Rican man named Henry, and it spent the better part of the next two years up on blocks on his front lawn. Never able to get it to run, Henry opted to have the car towed away, only to have his plan foiled when the rear axle broke during the attempted towing. Henry later pushed the car off a cliff in desperation, but it got caught up in some trees halfway down the cliff face and Henry was arrested for endangering a nest of baby condors. No one is quite sure where the car went to after that, but the consensus is that wherever it is now, it's most likely pissing somebody off.
And that's a wrap! I hope it was informative, enlightening, and deadline-fulfilling for you, too. Be sure to check back in two more weeks for a return to your favorite movie, video and electronic game reviews, and keep those letters waltzing in!   |
