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Ashlee Simpson Debacle Becomes 'October Surprise'November 1, 2004 |
New York City, NY Assad the Unseen Ashlee Simpson, apparently no relation to O.J. Simpson, prepares to fake her way through a song on Saturday Night Live's "October Surprise." In the foreground, a music fan prepares to get medieval on her.  
Legendary "October Surprises" have become a part of election year speculation, most memorably in the Carter-Reagan battle for the White House in 1980, when some suggested Carter's administration would pull off an October release of Iranian hostages and seal his re-election. Instead, he completely and utterly failed to release the hostages, and maybe that was the October Surprise, for the other guy. But you get the picture.
In the Bush-Kerry race, wild postulations on 2004's "October Surprise" included the capture of Osama b...
nyone waiting for the much-talked about "October Surprise" may have found it when, on an Oct. 23 broadcast of Saturday Night Live, musical ingénue Ashlee Simpson suffered a technical glitch that revealed her lip-synching to the world.
Legendary "October Surprises" have become a part of election year speculation, most memorably in the Carter-Reagan battle for the White House in 1980, when some suggested Carter's administration would pull off an October release of Iranian hostages and seal his re-election. Instead, he completely and utterly failed to release the hostages, and maybe that was the October Surprise, for the other guy. But you get the picture.
In the Bush-Kerry race, wild postulations on 2004's "October Surprise" included the capture of Osama bin Laden, another terrorist attack on U.S. soil, the release of new information about the economy, or a major degradation in the already-shitty Iraq situation. But if anyone had any money on a hack pop singer igniting the lip-synching controversy, you can collect your winnings, Charlie.
Simpson, a teen tart and possibly sister to "Chicken of the Sea" Jessica Simpson, was caught close-mouthed on stage before a live studio audience while the wrong vocal track rolled as her band played a different song. She apologized to the audience at the end of the show, blaming the incident on a wardrobe malfunction; later, Simpson admitted to using the backing vocal, but said she was sorry and it was the first time and she would never do it again, for honest this time.
The embarrassing event follows another flare-up in the lip-synching issue, when Elton John recently blasted ancient crumpet Madonna for allegedly lip-synching in her live concerts. John was drunkenly furious to hear Madonna had been nominated for "Best Live Act" in some shameless back-patting awards show. "Anyone who lip-synchs in public on stage when you pay seventy-five pounds to see them should be shot," said the famous "Crocodile Rock" singer, who is very gay.
As such flaps become newsworthy, it becomes harder and harder for the candidates to avoid the lip-synching controversy that divides the nation. For younger voters and pop-music, lip-synching is often a necessary evil that helps make stage-shows more involved and choreographed, while other voters and real music fans denounce it as technical trickery for the untalented. Older voters also often ask for the candidates to take a hard stance against rap music, which they proclaim is "just talkin'."
Although his platform is definitively against lip-synching, except on M-TV parody shows, Bush and his campaign would rather avoid a public stand-off on an issue that might alienate the young voters he seeks. While preaching to his conservative base at rallies across the nation, Bush has been known to challenge the legitimacy of music acts using pre-recorded vocals.
"My personal favorite has always been the Charlie Daniels Band," said Bush, to the same vigorous roar of applause he always receives. "If you can catch him lip-synching, I'll give you a coupon good for one free kick in my ass."
The Kerry campaign, on the other hand, has played it close to the vest, trying to court voters who feel that lip-synching should be regulated by the states and private citizens, rather than the government.
"I am against, and always have been against a constitutional amendment banning the use of pre-recorded vocal tracks by a live act," said Kerry. "This should not be taken as support of those who would choose to use such tracks live. I believe live music should be sang, not played back. Clearly, I would like to be elected." the commune news has never lip-synched anything, but we have lipped sink, and caught a nasty communicable disease from it. Boner Cunningham, teen correspondent, has a sharp little outfit you should check out next time you're in his house.
 |  November 1, 2004 |
President-Elect Al Gore reacts in good-natured WTF disbelief when informed by Airhead the Good-News Lady and assorted supporters that he will be the next U.S. president
Though Gore has not been a frontrunner in most of the supposedly-reputable national polls heading into the election’s final week, a highly scientific sampling of unregistered voters within a two-block radius of the commune offices has confirmed the reports of future correspondent Future Bob, who recently contacted the commune from the year 2006 with the news that Gore is president and that pop music had gotten really, really shitty. Also: buy stock in flavored condoms now.
Th...
sing state of the art poll-tracking technology, the commune has been able to predict this year’s presidential election winner two days early with a probably 98.77439% accuracy, and the result may shock or disinterest you. That’s right; Al Gore will be our nation’s 44th president.
Though Gore has not been a frontrunner in most of the supposedly-reputable national polls heading into the election’s final week, a highly scientific sampling of unregistered voters within a two-block radius of the commune offices has confirmed the reports of future correspondent Future Bob, who recently contacted the commune from the year 2006 with the news that Gore is president and that pop music had gotten really, really shitty. Also: buy stock in flavored condoms now.
Though it is unclear as of yet whether the Gore win will be the result of an unexpected groundswell of support in the election’s final days, or the emergence of thousands of 2000 absentee ballots from Post Office limbo hell, one thing is unmistakably clear. More on that later.
Perhaps even more surprising than the Gore win was the news that both presidential incumbent George W. Bush and Democratic challenger John Kerry finished well out of the money in the general election, trailing such surprise write-in candidates as The Rebel Billionaire, J.R. Ewing, and “that black guy from 24.” Also receiving strong shows of support were Candidate Zero from the NetZero Internet Service commercials, baseball commissioner Bud Selig, and the soothing, dignified voice of actor James Earl Jones.
Though the point may be moot due to the tenth-place showing of Jones’ voice, it is unclear whether the entire personage of James Earl Jones would have been inaugurated had the actor’s voice won, or if Jones would have had to stay out of sight while his voice was electronically matched, Wizard of Oz-style, to a projected image of either Darth Vader, the dad lion from The Lion King, or some kind of CGI morph of the two.
The revolutionary new poll, devised by the commune’s in-house expert expert Griswald Dreck using the latest Polish technology, also revealed some surprising news about America’s political affiliations. Long-though to be a nation composed almost equally of Democrats and Republicans, this latest poll shows a surprising 74% of citizens who list their party as “Yes!” Another 10% belong to the hard-line “Fuck Yeah!” Party, with a small but vocal minority standing behind their “Not Since We Had Kids” Party affiliation. Also of concern to the current establishment are the upstart “Where?” and “Can I Bring My Brother Dave?” Parties, which appeared to grow in size exponentially between our 10am and 4pm polls.
The demographic splits were even more surprising, with over 80% of likely white trash voters believing that gun control means using both hands. And in a minor note, a surprising 82% of Americans believe Gore is our current president, and are happy enough with the job he’s done to vote for a second term.
In other political news, 65% of likely voters expressed their strong opinion that commune reporter Lil Duncan belongs in the “Hot” category, while teen correspondent Boner Cunningham led the “Not” voting with a skyscraping 92%. Though disheartened by the news, Cunningham informed the commune that he hopes to do better in the upcoming 2008 election, by which time he expects his mustache to have fully grown in. the commune news has been accused of making premature calls on elections in the past, but we still stand behind our claim that Steve Toner was jobbed out of his rightful place as our student body president in 1989. Lil Duncan is the commune’s White House correspondent, a title we would have defined more specifically if we’d known she was going to buy a white house just so she could telecommute on a bullshit technicality.
| God retiring Rehnquist from Supreme Court early Arafat sharing room with whining methadone patient Enron lawsuit settled for 3,000,000 ohms of free energy Red Sox outcurse Yankees to win World Series |
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 November 1, 2004 The Costumer's Always RightSuffice to say, after last year's catastrophe, I will no longer be dressing up like Saddam Hussein. Also, the thrill is gone. Since his capture, I have realized he is a poor man's Hitler, and not just because he no longer has any money. His system of genocide against his own people didn't appear to be race-based, although they did all happen to be Iraqi. Well, enough of my political soapbox. Let's just say Saddam isn't scary anymore, and I don't want to be apprehended by a wayward team of National Guard soldiers, so I'm packing up the wax mustache and Iraqi military uniform.
Which leaves me with a very short amount of time, good people, to come up with the perfect Halloween costume before the commune's bi-annual Halloween party. Now I love a challenge as much as the next pers...
º Last Column: They Canceled My Favorite Show
º more columns
Suffice to say, after last year's catastrophe, I will no longer be dressing up like Saddam Hussein. Also, the thrill is gone. Since his capture, I have realized he is a poor man's Hitler, and not just because he no longer has any money. His system of genocide against his own people didn't appear to be race-based, although they did all happen to be Iraqi. Well, enough of my political soapbox. Let's just say Saddam isn't scary anymore, and I don't want to be apprehended by a wayward team of National Guard soldiers, so I'm packing up the wax mustache and Iraqi military uniform.
Which leaves me with a very short amount of time, good people, to come up with the perfect Halloween costume before the commune's bi-annual Halloween party. Now I love a challenge as much as the next person, but considering I'm near flat-busted since I invested all that money in the World Series (Yankees all the way this year!), this is one challenge I'm not up for.
The children's Halloween costumes at my local Wal-Mart fit reasonably well, although they clearly weren't planning on children having shoulders as broad as mine. But still, the fit I can manage. But who are these damned characters they expect me to dress up as? I am familiar with Snoopy dog, but not Snoop Dogg. What the hell is a Shrek? Where are the Hogan's Heroes costumes I had hoped for? Does no one else want to dress up as President Ulysses S. Grant? I know who Martha Stewart is, but I'm not dressing up as a girl. Not for free.
That leaves me no other choice than the old reliable home-made costume. I am no slouch when it comes to making creative things out of whatever's left lying around the house. One year, I wore my ex-wife Arvelyn around my shoulders and went as some sort of bizarre alien bourgeois widow, with a human stole. True, it wasn't all that impressive to look at, and I did supreme damage to my back and lost a good half a foot in height, and I had to spend all night explaining the elaborate premise of my costume, but… no, it was a bad idea. No defense there.
I have before, on short notice, annexed Camembert's wheelchair and gone as Franklin Delano Roosevelt as a child, but this year Camembert's bruiser Elvis girlfriend is watching for me to make my move. I'm better off not trying anything. By the way, Camembert is going as a handicapped robot and Girl Elvis will be wearing her usual Halloween costume, Buddy Holly.
I'm left with very little, and no imagination, to pull this one out of the fire, friends. Even my calls to Arvelyn have gone unanswered. If only I had a woman who would let me wear her around her neck, I would have something!
Perhaps nude body painting is the answer… then again, my mother might have been right when she told me nude body painting was not the answer to everything.
A quick rummaging of my house has revealed next to nothing to use for a costume, but it is all I've got. I'm tempted to stick a spatula between the crack of my buttocks and go as a fried egg. But the last thing I need is another costume with a lengthy explanation.
So here are my choices: I can put on a diaper and go as a giant baby; I can put on the diaper and go as a small geriatric man; or I can put on the diaper and go as a man totally out of his mind. Which is your favorite?
Hmm. No time to do that phone poll I had hoped for. Maybe I'll just go with the diaper on and let people guess what I am. Winner receives… I don't know. A spatula. º Last Column: They Canceled My Favorite Showº more columns | 
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Quote of the Day“No man is an island. But I have met several women I would like to live on for the rest of my life.”
-John Donne JuanFortune 500 CookieBy the pricking of my thumb I have really fucked up my keyboard playing. Trust in a higher power this week—the Waffle King knows what he's doing. Why be merely happy when you could be shit-yer-drawers happy? The world is you oyster, which explains that nauseating fish smell you can't escape. Lucky hammers roofing, jack, ball peen, MC.
Try again later.Top Other Inventions by the Crash Test Dummy Creator| 1. | Self-ejecting canned corn | | 2. | 5-string bass | | 3. | Hot Hands®, the cheapest, safest, easiest way to light your hands on fire | | 4. | Crash Test Dummy Secret Base Playset (Figures sold separately) | | 5. | Freshomatic, battery-powered freshness-testing meter | |
|   Republicans Organize "Poor People Rock!" Festival BY roland mcshyster 11/1/2004 Yoho, America. It hasn't exactly been a pirate's life for Roland McS lately, though I did get seasick the other day after taking a nap on a friend's waterbed. Okay, you caught me in a lie there; I didn't actually know the guy. But this isn't a column about my recent Goldilocks antics, though I'm sure many a pirate wandered into the wrong apartment (or boat) and slept in some stranger's bed until they were awoken by an insane Chicano woman waving a pool cue. No, I seem to remember this column having something to do with movie reviews, and taking the best and brightest Hollywood has to offer and exposing it to the harsh, shit-flinging light of day. That's what pays the bills, anyhow. Let's take another stab at that flabby Hollywood ass, shall we?
In Theaters Now:
Yoho, America. It hasn't exactly been a pirate's life for Roland McS lately, though I did get seasick the other day after taking a nap on a friend's waterbed. Okay, you caught me in a lie there; I didn't actually know the guy. But this isn't a column about my recent Goldilocks antics, though I'm sure many a pirate wandered into the wrong apartment (or boat) and slept in some stranger's bed until they were awoken by an insane Chicano woman waving a pool cue. No, I seem to remember this column having something to do with movie reviews, and taking the best and brightest Hollywood has to offer and exposing it to the harsh, shit-flinging light of day. That's what pays the bills, anyhow. Let's take another stab at that flabby Hollywood ass, shall we?
In Theaters Now:
The Grunge
According to urban legend, when an Alterna-rocker dies in a fit of angst, his or her soul carries on to haunt the living in suspenseful and self-pityingly gothic ways. That's what I heard from the guy down at Kinko's, anyway, and apparently the suits down at Columbia Pictures talked to the same guy and decided to make a movie out of it. So leave it to Generation Y to clean up the lazy, ironic messes their older Generation X siblings left behind, as forever teen Sarah Michelle Gellar takes on The Grunge using nothing but her innate spunk and a spray bottle of spunk remover.
The film's mood and suspense were first-rate, since I didn't believe that Gellar would ever be able to get Layne Staley out of those drapes. Though I did have to question the film's inclusion of Blind Melon frontman Shannon Hoon, since that guy had about as much angst as the frothy head on a cappuccino. But I admit it did give them a decent excuse to bring that terrifying bee girl back from the grave. I don't know about you, but this is one film reviewer who won't be putting honey on his corn flakes for months.
Ralphie
Jude Law stars in this unlikely sequel to the much beloved 80's classic A Christmas Story, the harrowing tale of a school shooter's childhood years in a dysfunctional Midwestern family. Loved though the original film was, few were demanding a sequel, unless they were demanding it in a private, secret shame kind of way. I sure as hell never heard them. Jesus, you think you know people.
Regardless, they did make a sequel, this one taking place twenty years after the original, which follows an adult poon-hound Ralphie on his rounds through high society. Law's tender narration is a little grating this time around, since he's mostly talking about how much he wants to scrooge some dilettante, and frankly it's a little confusing at times since Law is all grown up now, so he and his mental narrator use the same voice. It might have been best to find a really old Jude Law sound-alike to do the voice-over narration, to reduce the confusion and possibly to add a touch of poetic perspective to the young Law's desperate ass fancy.
Teen America Womb Police
Those screwballs behind the R-rated antics of the Peanuts gang are at it again, only this time they're at something totally unrelated to what they did before, so it's not really "again." Sorry for the confusion. This time they're taking on the world of puppetry like a bee sting in the penis. Cashing in their two cents on America's hysterical reaction to the teen pregnancy epidemic, Teen America Womb Police finally gives Sly Stone and Peter Parker a chance to show the world what they think crappy marionettes say about the current state of our union.
If you're not a fan of the Morning After pill (or its generic equivalents, the Lost Weekend pill and the What the Fuck Happened? pill), let me warn you that you may come away offended. Also, if you happen to have a problem with violent gay sex with polar bears, you might want to leave shortly after the opening credits. And a note to my friends over at the Parent Alert movie ratings site: this is not the film to see with your fragile Catholic mother. As for me, Roland McShyster tends to fall into the Keep Your Laws Off My Body camp (unless we're talking about Jude Law, then I say Bring It On), so I wasn't nearly as offended as the little girl sitting to my right who threw up during the polar bear rape scene.
That's it, America. Fuck off, you've overstayed your welcome.   |
