February 2, 2004
Here is photographic proof that Buddy Boze Bell is having gas problems. We see Peaches getting in as close as she can without getting burned, and we can clearly see the protective cone on Buddy’s head, designed to protect against rectal fumes overcoming his fragile mental capacity.

Actually, this is a photo from the days after Buddy’s neutering, but the basic point is sound.

Regarding Dan Buck’s insights into the genesis of Indiana Jones (art imitating art), his point is well taken. The art imitating art phenom keeps dividing and splitting into smaller and smaller cycles.

One of my old bandmates, guitarist Mike Torres (Smokey, Central Heating) commented to me recently that his son keeps trying to turn him onto new music, but every time Mike takes a listen all he hears is the original sources: “That’s not new my boy, it’s a rip-off of Led Zeppelin.” Of course, Led Zep is a recycling of old blues, and old blues. . .and on it goes

The same is true in magazines. The hottest new title in years is Maxim. All I see is an updated version of the old Argosy magazine (cheesy shots of starlets & manly man activities).

And don’t get me started on movies.

It’s always been true that there’s nothing new under the sun, but today it seems like the cycles are viciously short and getting shorter. Or is it just major geezerness rearing its ugly head? Does every generation go through this? I remember my dad laughing at fat, psychedelic neckties in the late sixties and showing me his (from WWII). Am I simply where he was then? Or is the world eating its young (old ideas dressed up like new ideas) at a frightening pace?

”New ideas can be good and bad, just the same as old ones.”
—FDR