MK Magazine Editorials

Chicago Bike Nazi's

How do you know when your local administration has gone too far?
10 years ago last July marked 10 years since I had first seen Chicago. I came here for a 2-day event with only 1 goal in mind, to see the band LYCIA. I fell in love with Chicago, her people and all of her beauty. It was so clean, and families were rollerblading in the streets downtown and bicyclists were everywhere. I knew that scorching hot Sunday, Chicago was going to be my home. It took 3 years to make the move, but it wasn't going to be something I was going to do overnight. It would take some planning and seed planting.
So as of 98� I was here. And the environmentally local government pleased me even more.

]]> Well Mayor Daley has been getting lots of negative press over the last couple of years due to some rather "shady" choices of his administration. That press has snowballed massively as of late. And who in the long haul has paid that price? The commuter.

Think about it. The CTA our wonderful public transit system rates have hiked. Tolls have doubled, and the Chicago Police spend countless man hours driving the opposite way up one way streets running every license plate to find out who has the dreaded 3 outstanding tickets resulting in the cursed �boot�. Lately though, it has gone from ridiculous to simply ludicrous. The city has hired uniformed city "officials" to run plates in our cities parking garages, and the parking lots of the Midway and O'Hare airports.
So, scofflaws they may be, yes I agree. However, I think our tax dollars should go towards the manpower to make this city safer. As a bicycle enthusiast myself, I cheered when Chicago passed a law making it a movable violation to talk on your handheld cell phone while driving. It makes perfect sense considering how many times I've been hit and knocked off my bike by someone on his or her cell phone when they should be paying attention. That law passed this past summer hasn't stopped many. I still see car after car being driven by someone who is talking on their phone when they should be more attentive to what they are doing.

But I highly question the most recent executive decision made by the powers that be. The police are now ticketing bike riders who run red lights or stops signs, those who ride the wrong way down a one-way street and those who are not basically adhering to the laws of the everyday car driver; Including being on your bike on a city sidewalk. Okay, some standards are in place for a reason, and as much as I think a good many drivers are more dangerous to innocent citizens, I think the muscle of the boys in blue are being pumped a little too hard.

For example, two weeks ago on a Thursday evening I was biking around Lincoln Park and doing some shopping. I crossed the street and was taking my bike up on to the corner and coming off the seat. From out of nowhere a bike cop comes up to me and asks what I'm doing. I tell him I'm going into a particular store to buy a shirt. He warned me that if I had not been off my bike when I took it to the sidewalk I would get a ticket. I told him I am very aware. I mean really, I'm a self admitted news junkie, I know every new rate hike and moronic law passed by this city by now. So believing he was satisfied I walked my bike to where I parked it and he actually followed me into the store to see if I was really buying the shirt I had mentioned. GIVE ME A BREAK, BIKE NAZI!

Oh, it gets worse from here, yes it does. The weekend of the Air and Water Show I was biking through the park on one of it's many bike paths and traffic was bumper to bumper. It was evening and everyone wanted out of the city. You can bet these people will never lower themselves to take public transportation. There are cops everywhere trying to direct traffic to insure an even flow out of the park and out of the city. I'm trying my best to get downtown when I suddenly hear commuters yelling at somebody calling him a fucking asshole. The next thing I know a guy driving a BMW crosses through traffic going the opposite way and he's coming at me on the bike path while talking on his cell phone. He blasts his horn and I'm off into the grass yelling at him, "What's wrong with you asshole?" WHERE WAS HIS TICKET???? This was not only against the law but extremely dangerous as far as I am concerned. I wanted so badly to throw something at his car. ANYTHING. But then I would have been the one being arrested while he got away.

To add salt to the wound, while taking an afternoon walk last Sunday my girlfriend and I see the new sign. NO BICYCLES PERMITTED ON SIDEWALK / VIOLATORS SUBJECT TO ARREST. ARREST! Isn't arrest a little extreme? What about that guy on his cell phone or the prick who was driving at me on the bike bath last month, or those pulled over for speeding? They are never subject to arrest. I believe "subject to arrest" is a lot extreme.

But the real clincher was yesterday. I had my bike chained to the fence off the sidewalk outside of my girlfriend�s apartment. I retuned to find a city warning sticker that my bike was subject to be tow/ impounded due to illegal parking. I'm dumbfounded. Extreme?

I think excessive is the word.

Alex Zander
Citizen of Chicago

HUNTER S THOMPSON July 18, 1937 - February 21, 2005

I am almost too shaken up to write, or work today. I could not sleep a single wink last night. I am shaking due to insomnia/sleep depravation. I have induced so much sleep over the past week to prepare for this week and having an event every night, two on Thursday, that I think my body is in shock.

Nonetheless, I think I was being sent a message of sorts last night.

The following is from a letter I wrote back to my brother this morning after he heard about HST's passing.

Feb 21, 2005 08:41 AM
Thanks for thinking enough to write to me this morning. I know you're busy.

]]> This is really sad. HST has been a massive influence on me. Yesterday I was thinking about changing my profile of people I'd like to meet to HST and Sonny Barger, cause I usually always meet my heroes. Then last night I took out the 2 DVD set of Fear and Loathing to play in the bedroom so I could fall asleep to the interviews. It wouldn't play. And I didn't sleep a wink at all, nit a bit all night. At 6:09 AM I looked at the TV and thought, I'll get an hour. I had a guest who had to be up at 7 so he could catch a plane. Then at 6:11 AM I hear the news. I yelled out loud FUCK. Too weird man, like I knew something wasn't right.

No more details yet. I'm waiting. That is totally out of character for him. Of course the conspiracy thing comes to mind, the government is shutting him up because he's so outspoken against the ultra conservative right. he really let it out last year on MSNBC when he did an interview with Tim Russert who was obviously uncomfortable with Hunter and didn't know quite where to go with him. For a media journalist like Russert, you'd think he would have done his homework on his subject. The book "Kingdom of Fear" had just come out, and I had already read it.

And that's also ironic, last night or or early morning around 2 AM "Meet The Press" was on and I recalled how Tim Russert was confused and nearly scared by HST.

This is more than coincidence with me. Thompson had a lot on energy within him, it was like his passing, sent out a huge power surge. I don't know how else to figure it. Eithe rthat or it's the old family curse rearing it's ugly head again.

I know that me incorporating myself into my writing is solely his doing, his influence and the world can squarely place the blame on his existence.

I do know this. I'm drinking tonight in his honor.

- Alex

I was initially introduced to the works of Hunter S. Thompson in 1988 when Lori Levy gave me a paperback copy of "Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas" and it became a turning point for me at a time that my life was at a huge junction. In fact she was really the very first person who really believed in me as a writer, and encouraged me to do so. A little over a year later I was a free lance journalist embarking on my on "gonzo" journey as a writer of rock n roll misadventures. Lori introduced this ol country boy to a lot of things that I never had the chance to thank her for.

As years came to pass I became a collector of HST Hardback First Editions. In 1993 I got the Action Figure Comic Strip book by Doonsberry creator Gary Trudeau that came with the Uncle Duke aka HST action figure which is still my mascot to this day. (and you all thought it was a 16 oz bottle) That same year Cathy Wrona bought for me a book which I've had to buy twice since, Hunter: by E. Jean Carroll. Every time I'd loan it out I never got it back. One of those people I loaned it to was Tom Tretter who claimed to have loaned it to Dave Blake who I never saw again. Ironically, Tom figures into the near end of this story. I got everyone hooked on the very first film based on HST's life, "Where The Buffalo Roam" starring Bill Murray. It was actually Lori who first showed me the film. I wanted to see it when I was 16 by my father, and in his reasoning I see why, would not permit me to go to the theatre to see it. I'll never comprehend why he condoned seeing Cheech and Chongs movies but Hunter Thompson was out. Maybe it was because I always wanted to be a writer, and maybe because HST was a real life personality and successful writer.

So I had tuned my brothers in Pittsburgh onto the Thompson lifestyle which was maybe not such a grand idea. We often aspired to mimic the authors inebriated manner. We dubbed the act of slurring and acting out drunkenly to being "Thompsoned". Often we would say, "Man, you were so Thompsoned last night." the same way we'd say, "Man, you were so Morrisoned last night."

I continued to work Thompson stylings into my own writing after I started MK in 1995, 10 years ago to this month. I would begin and continue to work myself into the story, which I was a part of to begin with. I think it reached it's boiling point in 1996 when we went on the road with MACE and 3 of us combined and compared tales into one which was titled "Fear and Loathing In the Midwest", by Alex Zander, Leigh Marino and Elaine Thomas. And ever since, I would make sure if I was there, I would be in it, and many times in front of home and/or TV cameras. For my career it has worked out in my favor, many times to the amusement of you the reader or viewer. Like it or not, but I have become a significant part of the nightmare.

So I continued to pick up our beloved heroes work, and those who felt close enough to me would occasionally offer me a gift of a first edition or new release, all of who would be best sellers. In 1998 just prior to moving to Chicago, Heather and I went to see "Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas" starring Johnny Depp at the only theatre in Indianapolis that would show it. And even after our break-up for a Christmas gift she bought me a volume of HST's work. Even in the death of relationship, his work meant that much. (Thanks HH)

In 1998 the long awaited first novel by Hunter was finally published. "The Rum Diary" continues to be my favorite book by Thompson. I read so many letters than he wrote prior to the publication of his breakthrough, "Hells Angels", about his frustrations with trying to get it published. He wrote it in San Juan in the late 50's when the author was in his early 20's. I've red it 3 times since, and the film of it has been in pre production for several years, and will star, of course, Johnny Depp.

To this day I have a shelf-full of HST books. On nearly everyone one of my plane trips I take a volume of his work with me. His collections of correspondences is something a reader can pick up at any part and start reading. many of them his rants against local TV stations for not providing programming his then young son could watch. His son Juan named for San Juan the focal point of his very first novel. A good many of the ravings of a intoxicated lunatic suffering from lack of sleep due to ever imposing deadlines. And a lot of them his unapologetic social viewpoint of our political system. From Thompson, I read the true account of the 1968 Chicago Democratic Convention and riot. From HST I got an education from an unbiased point of view. What the reader chose to do with that knowledge was another thing completely. I, speaking for only myself, took it to heart.

In the summer of 2003 I wrote "Fear and Loathing in the Land Of Oz" based on me and Greg tovars roundtrip to see Ozzfest and the parties at the lodge the night before and in the parking lot the next day. And my style of itemizing everything that is induced into the human shell for consumption came from HST, though when people copy me on that, they have no idea where it came from. The same imbeciles who when they anonymously call me a "loser" in emails spell it "looser". I hope in my case that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery when it comes to me, mimicking the styles of Thompson, but when I am mimicked, it is simply, I consider, pathetic.
In response to my long an decadent tale of our adventure at Ozzfest, Tommy Victor of Prong (Danzig) wrote to me after he read it. He simply stated,"Zander you are the next Hunter S." Not even close but I appreciate the reaction.

On my expeditio to Alaska while in a sea of ice, I read Sonny Bargers book. "Hells Angel" and there were many references to HST, and though they had a very big falling out and never mended any fences, Barger does hail Hunter S Thompson as a great writer. I also read another collection of rants, "Better Than Sex" (1994), which was penned right up to the election of Bill Clinton, and the aftermath of Bush 1. I recently found another copy of Hunter the biography by E Jean Carroll. and I'm not loaning it out to anyone for any reason, except for maybe Grego. He'd get a kick out of it. A first edition by the way, of course.

The last new book I read of my favorite authors work was "Kingdom Of Fear". I'm not a sports fan so I do not read his sports reports in any form. And when the book came out HST did what I consider a hilarious publicity spree on the media. On Conan and on Letterman, they got him, on MSNBC Russert did not. Russert was visibly uncomfortable with Hunters presence and manner, almost like he didn't know what to do with his hour of time. I loved it, I enjoyed seeing a political newshaired TV boy in the midst of our hero.

Last January, Tom Tretter, through whom I lost my first copy of Hunter to, the one Cathy bought for me, insisted on meeting me in Las Vegas. He said, we HAVE to do the Hunter and his attorney. I think I was certainly Hunter while Tom played to my, well lets just say, best interests. But the combination of the two of us in Vegas was a tribute to Hunter if not for anything else. Little did we know it but we were paying our resects. Next year we shall rent a red convertible.

Last night, something didn't feel right. I couldn't sleep, I was antsy. And before I laid my head down to bed, I went to the office and pulled out the copy of Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas that I had never seen the second disc with commentaries and more hoping I would fall asleep to it. Oddly it would not play and I was too tired to fuck with it. At 2:30 AM I still could not fall asleep, something wasn't right. So I laid there tossing and turning. Frustrated. Then at 6:09 AM NBC 5 News came on and I said to myself I would be able to get about an hour of sleep. I had a guest who I needed to wake at 7 in order for him to get to the airport. At 6:11 AM I heard the news, Hunter S Thomson had taken his own life. I went out to the computer looked it up and put the story on my website www.mk-magazine.com

Details are sketchy. I am waiting to hear why etc, just like all of his other admirers. The thing that really hurts and bothers me about this is that, as much effort as I've made to meet and sometimes befriend a good many of my heroes, I didn't get to meet Hunter Thompson. You never ever know. You just never do. I won't let Sony Barger slip by that easily. I have all summer ahead of me. And I have to take my mothers ashes out to Arizona anyway.

This morning I have had a lot of emails regarding it from people who know me well enough to care that this has hit me pretty hard. I thanks them and I thank my little brother who is usually too busy for me, for his letter this morning.

Tonight Hunter, Jymbo and Grego drink to you. Where ever you are the party is just getting started. See you up around the bend.

- Alex Zander

Every Picture Tells A Story: MK Krew Takes On AVN AEE In Vegas

FOR ALL THE PHOTOS SEE OUR GALLERY SECTION

What do Gene Simmons, Huey Lewis, Lemmy Kilmister, Heidi Fleiss, Stephen Tyler, Miss Howard Stern, Las Vegas, a thousand hot girls and myself, Alex Zander have in common? This story.

]]> PRELUDE:

I found out a week prior to heading out to Las Vegas to the Adult Video News Adult Entertainment Expo that it would be a Grego-less trip. And after a year of planning it seemed doomed from there. However, it'd be just Karlton our greatest glamour photo bug and yours truly. I had Talia Juliette the former porn starlet, and current Vegas based fetish model, who appeared in a number of films under the name Midnight Isis added in Grego's place. I also acquired a pass for my old drinking buddy and partner in crime, Tom Tretter who now lives and works in LA. He designs action figures for films and other retailers, and is currently working on next years Star Wars and Fantastic Four figures for their related films.

So the time came to leave and we got hit with the biggest snowstorm in Chicago in the last four years all in 1 days. We got a foot in 24-hours and it didn't stop, hence causing hundreds of cancellations at both of our airports. And on Wednesday it was hopeless and the airlines reported if you can change flights, to do so. But I wasn't heading to the airport till 3:30 AM on Thursday so I thought I'd be okay for a 6 AM flight out. Just in case I phoned Delta. And it's a good thing I did. Originally they had me flying from Chicago to Cincinnati to Dallas and then to Vegas. They switched it to flying to Cincinnati, to Atlanta and then to Vegas, which ironically would have gotten me in Vegas before noon.

THURSDAY:

When I got to O'Hare after only maybe an hour of sleep at the most, I was told the flight they had booked me on was cancelled when they booked me on it, and proceeded to tell me I could get to Vegas by 10 PM that night. Well my horns must have come out, because within minutes they squeezed me onto a 9 AM to Cincinnati and then to Vegas, which didn't get me there till 3 PM, which SUCKED.

My first interview on the trade day was scheduled at 4 and even after getting my bags and checking in would no way get me to the church on time. But there was nothing I could do. So I sat at O'Hare waited for a few hours to boarding and when I got to Cincinnati I called Talia and left her a message if she could, would she meet me at the airport baggage claim and pick me up. Well hours in the air I had no idea whether she would or not. While in the air against the window, unable to doze off I was stuck next to an older couple who of course had no problem sleeping whatsoever. So I could not get past them to urinate.

We arrived in warm Las Vegas about 2:30, I dashed to the restroom, went to baggage where I found our tiny and beautiful viXXXen, Talia Juliette who was know in the adult industry as Midnight Isis. I guess I'm not hard to pick out in a crowd and we hugged, grabbed my bags and drove off towards the hotel. Well not after getting lost and ending up back at the airport. She's a great person, but as far as living in Vegas, she doesn't know the strip well enough to navigate it. In her lil red wagon I called the hotel to see if K Rawk had yet arrived. They claimed to have no record of him. I called him and he said he was there en route to his room. I arrived and cut the long line of CES nerds checking into the hotel and the folks at the desk claimed to have no record of the K man still. As I was walking back to Talia's car, I hear him call out, "ZANDER!" and I turn to find our guy. He was quite unimpressed with the room and went in to give the staff more shit. This was about to become a trend as I would learn. Nobody fucks with Karlton, Karlton does the fuckin'"

Finally we checked in and I changed and we were off to the Sands which also proved to be ill fated because Talia was getting lost again. We needed up parking in the adjacent Venetian Hotel parking lot, which like all Casinos offer free parking. Hell, the airport only costs $1 an hour at the meters in the parking garage. Not bad.

We got into the Sands as we saw a lot of the girls coming out. Passed Ron Jeremy and Vince Neil and Mini Me, and being it was 4:30 PM and the days Industry Only affair ended at 4 it really sucked. But still we went in and a dozen cameras filmed us, we met up with Carly, then Elizabeth and Kevin Starr, had a few drinks, (their security were bikers) and found Jef Hickey from Kick Ass, a guy I've been wanting to meet for years and I even grabbed Deauxma as she was leaving. You may remember reading about and seeing her photos from our Glamour Con expose' titled "Glamour Is A Rocky Road" from the end of last summer. On the way out I caught up with Adam aka Seymore Butts for a minute and he signed my book. Despite what you or anyone may think, this guy is a class act. We took a minute to rap and then our krew started making our way out.

We saw a few others and drove back to the hotel a few hours later. By the way we stayed at the Best Western Mardi Gras which is right of the strip and for the inflated convention price of $90 per night, was a bargain. It was only a $5 ride for 3-4 people in a cab, they had 99 cent shrimp cocktail, Steak and lobster for $9.95, and $1 Heinekens, not to mention after midnight, hot dogs and 23 oz beer for only $2.50. Karlton was getting ready and Talia and I dropped downstairs for Nachos, potato Skins and wings (I believe) and we had a head start on the big bottle of Makers Mark I brought along.

We headed out to the Hard Rock Hotel via taxi and walked in on the way to the AVN AEE big kick off party hosted by Pure Play and Seymore Butts aka Adam Glasser and company. The very first person we bumped into was non-other that 80's top 10 rocker, Huey Lewis. I wasted no time in asking him for a photo-op and he polietely declined, stating, he chat with me all night but didn't do photos. Then he saw Talia, and said he'd do a photo as long as she was in it and he could have one of her cigarettes. We all jumped in and a guy who reconized me (nameless, in a white pimp-like outfit) who was obviously known in the industry jumped in the shot and hung around us till we went to the red carpet area. As Carly walked us from the stuffy line to the red carpet area we mingled with some of the girls walking in. The paparazzi lined up as the eye candy began to file in. Talia and I walked down and cameras snapped away. The line to the party was about 2000 long from what I've been told and a lot of stars were unable to gain access. I even had to take Seymore and Mari Possa in, and it was his party. Unable to get a wrist band for the VIP area Adam announced he was leaving. Security heard this and quickie arranged for his wristband.

Upon entering the rocking party I literally tossed Talia onto Lemmy which sort of freaked him out. However, Talia had stated that her dream was to get a pic with Motorhead's mainman so I had to make it happen, and felt obligated to keep my promise. Gene Simmons was there and being that he has never done any drugs or been intoxicated, and is 5 years younger than Lemmy, for whatever reason Lemmy looks better and more fit. Maybe the liquor has embalmed him thus causing preservation. Whatever it is, Lemmy was more cordial than the Tonguester. Stephen Tyler was floating around and I looked for my friends in the industry and YES I'm referring to stars. I did finally bump into Jimmy Mofo of www.mofowear.net and we rapped and grabbed a quick photo. The place was jammed and I was separated from Talia and Karlton, on my way out the line was as long as the casino and people were getting turned away and/or getting tired of trying to get in. These were all industry people and I felt their pain. I loathe those type of lines. I refuse them. I jumped into a cab and went to the hotel, met up with a "friend", and went up to grab some well needed shut-eye. I was later than the duo and before I could count sheep, the alarm went off and it was time to shower and get to the show. And our first interview on this snowy Friday morning in Las Vegas (a snow K - Rawk and I were blamed for bringing) would be at 9 AM.

FRIDAY:

Karlton and I went downstairs for the white trash buffet. It left us both with quite an impression, we wouldn't be eating the buffet again. We got there a little early, Talia who got home a little late/early would meet with us a bit later, as would Tom Tretter who called informing his flight was in and he'd be meeting us later. I had his press badge on me so we were ready to rock. The first person I saw was the legend Janine Lindemulder, and she signed my book in the front because she didn't like the pregnancy photo of her inside, which I feel looks just fine. She is pretty well known for only doing girl-girl scenes during her reign in the business, until her recent highly publicized divorce from TV's Jesse James, which whose child was carrying during their separation. She recently did her first official boy-girl that is if you don't count the bootleg video of her and Vince Neil which "leaked" out a few years back. Howard Stern always called her the most beautiful girl in porn.

Dominic from Cherry Boxx is one of the BEST. They had Cytherea and I've wanted, wished, desired, lusted and craved to meet and talk to her since Jimmy Mofo mentoned her to me in an email a year prior. She has an uncanny ability to squirt, spray and soak from reportedly 12 ft. I think 5 at best, but I ain't one to argue aginst a pro, Hell yes I am). We had a long, in-depth discussion, on tape I add, about squirting, fucking etc. She ROCKED, and I must add, went on to win Best New Starlett, and deservingly so. I CANNOT imagine how drunk, or a contact drunk, she may have achieved after tongue licking me.

I caught Teagan Presley walking around, she's the latest Digital Playground signee, and we talked a few minutes. She's the one whose claim to fame is three things, 1) She looks incredibly like Britney Spears, 2) She got famous from having a scene on the second disc of the One Night In Paris DVD, 3) Has the nicest round and plump ass of any gal her age in porn. Of course a butt boy like me has an eye for that. She was really nice and we took a few pix and we agreed to talk about a few subjects during our interview later on.

Afterwards we were scheduled to interview Sylvia Saint, Danni Ashe (most downloaded lady on the net) and Mari Possa. Everyone was running late and I imagine due to the party the night before We eventually got Sylvia (fucking gorgeous) and the Mari Possa who hung out with us here in Chicago back on Halloween weekend. Mari wore a Damage Manual shirt for us. We shot over to meet Nina Hartley the legend and up and coming Puerto Rican beaut Carmen Luvana at the Adam and Eve booth. KSEX was up top filming us with their cameras and there was a HUGE crowd gathering for the live broadcast. Nina was great addressing censorship in-depth and with passion, as well as Anal sex. And Carmen was lovely as can be, we took some fun pix, Carmen sported a DAMAGE MANUAL shirt for us and we discussed her first on-screen anal.

We kept making our rounds and I dropped by the Digital Playground booth at 1, which is when I thought out interviews with Teagan, Devon and Jesse Jane was supposed to be, at least according to my records. Adella had us down for Sunday which one of us goofed up. We had a few minutes with Devon and she was sweet as last year and more together than last year when she was a bit hung over and pre-occupied, which it seemed at the time. Jesse saw us and Karlton shot as she pointed at us and was distracted by someone else......

After we hung out at the Digital Playground booth it was off to make our rounds, but we had to grab Tom Tretter. We found him and began circling the place over. We seemed to spend a lot of time with Starr productions where they were surrounded by heavy biker security, and it was a great time because as far as I'm concerned, the Starr's are the most rock n roll people in the Adult genre and it's no wonder we like them so much. One of the people I ended up running into was Arianna Jolie, and I must insist she is incredibly hot, on film and in person. She sure does fill her jeans nicely. But she did or is doing that 50 man anal cream pie and I've got to wonder why. I love nasty but that eclipses my definition of the word. We grabbed a photo op and I moved on.

We hit up Jef Hickey at the Kick Ass booth. Jef and I have been corresponding for years back to when he published New Rave and Dirrty Magazines, two of the finest in filth. He always had bands like Electric Hellfire Club , Type O, Lords Of Acid and Manson in his rags. He gave us to the lovely Violet Blue who after our interview I bit her toe and then to Mary Carey who had run unsuccessfully for governor of California against Arnold what's his name. Karlton thought she was fat but I think she's just a cool, pretty chick with big naturals. Which is something that Kick Ass specializes in. That and worms. I have to say, K Rawk has the most discriminating taste I know of. No wonder he has Natalie.

Occasionally we'd drop by the Pure Play Media booth to say hi to Carly, she had her arms FULL. I have no idea how she managed to juggle so much responsibility, but she did. Some of her girls were late but it was no problem, that's something that comes with the territory, these gals are high maintenance, believe me, I know from personal experience.

A bit later we dropped by to see Deauxma and she introduced me to a girl whose name I didn't get till after I picked her up in my arms and bit her on her boobie. After which I asked, in a polite way as possible, "What was your name?" It was funny cause she kept sneaking me the stink eye whenever I walked by. She was fun, that's for damn sure. Hell, she put up with and joked with us. (and didn't lose a clear-heel all weekend)

I grabbed Max Hardcore and chatted a bit about Queeny Love, someone who I was hoping I'd get to meet, but didn't. And ran into people like Penn Gillette, and on the way out stopping by the Pure Play booth and inside the VIP area it was no other than Gene Simmons and he was being a condescending jerk. And that's being nice. I mean this, Gene used to call me allot back in the in between make up days and want to do interviews. And we supported him and KISS a lot in those days. After the KISS Konventions and subquesent reunion he replaced shock and theatrics with playing the role of a money hungry mogul. And this day he was old and there was lots of bad press about him from the people covering the show. But for myself, everytime I asked a question, or made a statement, or any attempt at conversation he simply answered and turned his head. Tom was appalled. I was just annoyed. Finally his body guard came over and said 'Gene was too tired" to talk, but that changed the minute that they started bringing girls into pose with him. And me and everyone else in the inside knows what a tired facade this has become and it's more like a joke. But someone is buying it. We all concluded the same thing. Fuck em. He seems to forget the fans and others who supported his band all those years. MANY YEARS.

Carly writes on her blog:

"And up walks Gene Simmons.

I stood to the side to get out of the way. He stared at me and offered his hand. So I shook it.

“Hi, Mr. Simmons,” I said. “I’m Carly, and I do publicity for Pure Play Media.”

He gripped my hand and shook it, but then he didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled me into the booth and started muttering in my ear as he put his arm around my shoulder.

“You know, you’re hotter than any of the other girls in here,” he said. “I like you.”

“That’s very nice, but I’m taken.”

He yanked his arm off me. “Then I have no interest in you.”

With that, he took a seat in our conference room and sat on the couch.

Priceless."

A bit later on the way out I heard a woman's voice call out to me over some annoying rap/hip-hop music. It was Kelly Erikson, and she was all smiles. I looked over made a few gangsta' rap gestures resulting in a few laughs from her, and then walked over for a hug, kiss and brief conversation. Then I saw Janie from Metro and apologized for missing my interview but other girls were late, she was cool and happily rescheduled for the next day.

It was about this time I ran into Skeeter Kerkove and to my surprise he was very cool. And I mean extremely gracious and a true gentleman. I was amazed. By the look of his films it seems he'd be a prick. But he was awesome. we promised to meet up the next day and that was that. I said goodbye to all of them and Kelly and moseyed through the massive crowd.

We all split, Tom and I hit up my room for some Makers Mark and some antics downstairs at the bar, and later karaoke. Talia and Karlton hit up a store for a video card which took hours and then commenced on the MK photo shoot with her. With the limited amount of entertainment to be had at the Mardi Gras bar we somehow managed to have a decent time. And I stress on somehow. But TT and I can pretty much find fun anywhere. I did some Karaoke to the Doors, of course, drank a bit more, talked to some ladies etc. It was funny cause they had no idea we thought it was funny that they were hitting on us. One woman told me I would be cute if I shaved off my goatee and cut my hair. I replied rather loudly "Fuck That!" Oh well, what happened to Sampson when they cut his fucking hair? End of discussion.

I went back up, saw the images Karlton and Talia had worked on and grabbed some shut eye. I was D-E-A-D!

SATURDAY:

The alarm, again went off too early. We rose showered, shaved and made our way to the venue, only we were, somehow much too early. So we had to kill some time in the lobby and the press room.

Naturally our initial stop was with Pure Play to say hello to the lovely Carly and then to Starr Productions to see Kevin and the krue. They were ready to rock and as we hung out Steve ( guy we know from Chicago) and Lemmy dropped by to get some photos. Poor Lemmy, the guy cannot go anywhere without seeing my crazy face. However, I do need to make one thing perfectly clear, for the record. Gene Simmons who brags, claims and boasts that he's never in his life been drunk or high. And then there's Lemmy, who turns 60 this year and is five years older than Simmons somehow looks healthier, in better shape and a lot more refined than Gene. And Lemmy makes no secret of his substance abuse. And I bet he , for real, gets more tail.

We walked over to the Metro booth where Tom Tretter stood waiting. We all went to a private room where I interviewed Kelly Erikson, a busty blonde who for the past year is fast becoming my favorite porn star. The girl is an absolute blast, she's fun and funny and possesses a great sense of humor, one that easily accommodates some of our twisted sense of. She was quick to plug her first on-screen anal, which was something I intended to bring up. Funny how when these girls do that, it's the BIGGEST news. Certainly one for the fans, for her pocketbook and certainly pleasure. Kelly who really hasn't made that many movies in 2004 informed me that being that she's under contract with Metro that she's pretty much salary. This means no stripping or any of that other stuff non-contract chicks need to do to make ends meet. I suspect she may have a well to do b/f or s/o but who knows. I didn't ask, however, I insisted she must do something with us in Chicago and she seemed open to it. I think we could put the week we had with Gauge here to shame. Kelly is great and always the most fun to chat with at the show. Plus she loves putting my drinkage between those big boobs. I had mentioned that Tom and I did white trash karaoke the night before and I mentioned that the one older lady who was coming onto me, mentioned I'd be better looking if I shaved and cut my hair. In unison, Kelly and I both said out loud, "Fuck that." Whether she was being nice or just playing cool, it was funny, at least to me. Tom probably sat there thinking of me as an aging-ugly fuck. Though I don't feel that I look my age, I'm certainly starting to feel it.

Next up was the man, Skeeter Kerkove. We had a lot to talk about and one was his $10,000 off to prove that squirters are faking. He claims and has a great argument that it's piss. Now all this time, in my mind I was hoping it was real. For I'd love nothing more than to have Cytherea soak my face and more. But to be pissed on, like Skeeter says, is fucked up. Screw that. Now I do need to interject here, that Skeeters movies are well, for lack of a better phrase, brutal. The damage he puts a woman's anal cavity through is astounding almost gut-wrencthing. His wife does the same thing to herself. They are quite the pair. My point here is, I never expected Skeeter Kerkove to be as cordial, polite and nice as he is. It was a true surprise, something I'm getting more and more accustomed to in pornland. He even invited me to stay at his house on my next visit to LA and sit in on one of his productions. Now, that is truly an offer I cannot refuse.

I need to save the rest of the details for the interview I did with him, but it was pretty funny when I asked the following question. "How does your wife (Bridget) do all that stretching stuff with her bung?" He smiled and replied, (polietely) "PRACTICE." Now that's a quote.

Finally it was time for Andrea Brookes, more popularly known as the famous, Miss Howard Stern. I couldn't wait to talk to her. She has a baby voice and a teenage and petite body and she was very very entertaining and made no secret that she is in search of a sugar daddy. The details of the interview I shall save for the in print version of MK, but let's just say, it was incredibly entertaining. I got her autograph for Marc Osorno as promised, and did some photos as the manager posed us provocatively, and we were done at Metro. We were supposed to see Ron Jeremy but his line was so long that I didn't want to leave his fans waiting while we rapped with the Hedgehog.

Then by sheer accident, I ran into Vicky Vette. And I broke into her line, introduce myself, and caught up with the lady who I've been waiting for over a year to meet. Vicky's story is an interesting one, and one that I feel is important and significant for all women over 30, and into their 40's.

Born in Norway, Vicky Vette has come to be known as the Viking Vixen. She writes of herself, " I only started modeling in Feb 03. I sent in a snapshot to Hustlers Beaverhunt. I figured I had nothing to lose and it was now or never. I was already 37." 37 in 2003, which makes her 39 now. And a hot 39 indeed. Proof in the pudding people, you don't need to be "barely legal" or just 18 to be this smoking HOT. Married to her swinger husband of 16 years, she has now done over 75 videos, done 20 magazine layouts, and appeared on several websites, including Danni.com, and many more.

I managed to get her to stop signing autographs and do an interview with me. Vicky is SMART, lovely, beautiful and a perfect example of how comfortable a woman should feel about her age, in an era where all of our "it girls" and celebrities are post pubescent teensters. It was a true and overdue pleasure meeting her.

Karton, Tom, Talia and I spent the remainder of the afternoon strolling around the giant floor of the show, stopping often by Starr Productions and goofing off with stars and their managers. We gathered a lot of business cards and Karlton looked for gifts for Natalie. I posed for a photo with a gal at the worm, I mean Kick Ass booth and my tag came off again. This happened to Karlton in the booth on Friday, to me on Friday with Violet and to me again, Saturday night. This time it was gone. Someone had gotten ahold of it and must have used it in the wrong way, and for the wrong purposes. However it's hard to get far posing as me, since most of them know who I am by this point anyway. The we all split and talked about meeting later but all ended up going solo.

I spent most of the evening at the casino lounge, and talked with an older British gent named Bob, and made small talk with the staff. Later I went up and got Karlton and he joined me for a bit and we met a young lady who hung out a while then came up to the room to hangout and drink. I sacked out and somehow K Rawk got rid of her. He said I layed there in bed giggling for about 20-minutes before falling asleep. It echoes what my bro JSIN says, the SAME DAMN THING.

SUNDAY

We awoke, packed, checked our bags and dragged our tired asses to the show for one last run. I had a hard time getting a new pass, in fact I didn't get a replacement at all. Talia woke up and drove hers over to me and I used it. Nobody really looked at the name since they had seen me pass almost 100 times at this point. I got in and went to Digital Playground where I was supposed to meet Jesse and Teagan, but neither of them nor Devan was there. We waited and waited and went outside in the lobby. Then I spotted a true hottie, it was Kelly and she was coming in late, she waved me over, and we hugged and kissed and said our see-ya's. Then I went to the press room to find Adella who dropped the bomb on me. All the Digital Playground girls had food poisoning and were out of there rooms, trying, to no avail get, newly re-booked, flights and wouldn't be making it. I felt really bad for them as I felt for their fans who would certainly be disappointed. But most of all I felt bad for Adella, who had to deal with all of it. The girls, their arrangements, the fans and the press. Shit, both her and Carly who I couldn't find to say goodbye to, were having a horrible go of it.

I grabbed a couple gift bags that Adella offered us, complete with toys, lube, DVD's and more goodies and then we sat and chilled. I spotted Heidi Fleiss and we talked for a minute and Karlton grabbed a photo of us. Then he asked me who she was. I about pissed myself. I replied, Bro, that's Heidi Fleiss. And he asked who Heidi Fleiss was and I tried to refresh his memory, and he said he didn't know or hear of her because he was married in the 90's. I guess that meant no TV in the 90's. Hell I hardly watched TV in the late 80's and 90's but I watched the news and read the papers. But that's me and my spongelike mind. I need, I feel the desire and the sheer addiction to absorb knowledge. Otherwise I wish I could also put the 90's out of my mind. For fucks sake, there's a lot about the last 5 years I'd like to put out of my mind, especially the last calendar year, save hanging out with TV and film stars and rock bands and porn stars. Ms Fleiss was also very cool, and I was most surprised. I guess we can smell our own.

That was about it, we were BEAT, went back up, said goodbye to the Starr Crew, Deauxma and some of the girls and caught a cab back to the casino. We sat in the lounge, ate, and Talia joined me as Karlton gave the staff a bit more attitude, and we fucked with the waitress. Karlton left for the airport the lucky bastard, and Talia sat with me drinking Heinekens and eating shrimp cocktail till 6 PM when she drove me to the airport where I waited 7 hours for my 1 AM flight. I suppose I could have hung out at the show, and maybe I should have gone back as opposed to sitting all night at the airport but I was brain dead and couldn't take anymore porn for the time being.

But the time I spent with Talia was really nice, she told me a lot about her life story and some of it's trials and tribulations. And I thought, wow, I thought I had a story, and I do. But it's too much to lay on her. cause if we shared both our stories we'd had purchased razor blades and slit each others wrists. All in all she's much more than a pretty face and I'm really glad I got to know her.

MONDAY:

At the airport I tried to no avail, sleep on the floor, to try to rest and keep from pacing the airport. I couldn't. At 1230 AM on Jan 10, I boarded my flight which would take me to Minneapolis. And there I'd have to catch a connecting flight to Chicago. On the flights I did not sleep. At the airport I watched the news. In LA where Angie was there were mudslides and rain. In Southeast Asia there was the aftermath of the earthquake and tidal wave. And back home in Chicago, where I landed at approximately 830 AM in was cold and snow covered. Suddenly spending a few more quality hours with the warm tan and fun-loving lades of porn at the end of Sunday, seemed like it would have been a good idea.

For me it had been over 27 hours with no sleep, and even in Vegas there was very little sleep. I dragged four overfilled and heavy (MOTHERFUCKING) bags though the airport, to the subway, out of the tunnel and about 4 blocks that may have well been 20 with the snow and cold. At 930 AM I was greeted by cats and a warm bed and cable TV. It must be Chicago. I must be home.

Would I do it all again? You can bet your ass I will in one year. See you in 2006. - AZ

Epilogue: I returned to work to learn that Carly was "dismissed" from Pure Play, to the DISMAY of every other signifigant reporter covering the industry. Hence, the next rant which I have "ONLY" just begun. CM we, and I speak for the community for which you serve, love. appreciate and NEED you. - Your fiend AZ

The Best Advice I've Ever Heard

I just caught the KING OF THE HILL episode titled "Dang Ol' Love", the one where the Arlen stud Boomhauer falls in love. At the end of the episode Bill, the town loser is sitting on the hood of Boomhaur's car, drinking beer, and he offers our hero the following advice.

"I know how tough it is for you right now, curled up lying in your own emotional vomit. You're in hell now, Boomhauer, and the only way out is through a long dark tunnel. And you're afraid to go in because there's a train coming at you, carrying a boxcar full of heartbreak. Well, let me tell you something: All you can do is let it hit you, and then try to find your legs. I know. I've taken that hit more times than I can remember. Look at me, Boomhauer. I'm fat, and I'm old, and every day I'm just going to wake up fatter and older. Yet somehow I manage to drag this fat old bald bastard out into the alley every day. I'm out there, digging holes, falling into them, climbing out, trying again. And tomorrow I'm going to hang outside at a ladies' prison, and the first thing those lady cons are going to see after twenty years is me. Will I get one? Experience says no. Will I be out there next month? If I'm alive, you'd better believe it. You've got to get up off that cannon bed, slip into a tight T-shirt, wash off some of that cologne, and get yourself out of that tunnel and into some strange woman's bed!"

And that's how you (I) can get though it, every damn day.

Being Me: Pre and Post Porn

I never set out to start a business or corporation. When I conceived the idea of MK back in 1994 I wanted to provide a service to the demographic of people who share the common love for the entertainment that we do. That we absorb ourselves in, and separates us, from them.

They dubbed us a Goth read. Why? I guess at the time there was a lot of really good gothic industrial music on the scene. I don't think it's ever been as significant and successful as it was from 94-97.

A lot has changed since then. About music, me, and I hope MK became better. I hope. And from what I've been told it has.

]]> At the time I created AZ, the person you al know and the person I now am. I created a character and became him. Partly because he was always in me, ad partly as a defense mechanism. Along the way I buried the person I was before. An insecure womanizer. Yes, I do miss him sometimes, but I don't miss what came with him. It was if anything a symbolic suicide.

By my own admission I had no idea what I was doing at the time, but I learned a lot in the last 10 years. In a lot of ways I still don't know what I'm doing. Like I said, I never started this thing to make a living. I simply wanted to provide a service. It was one persons selfishness that forced me to become a businessman. Story of my life.

And speaking of stories, most of you know the reason I started MK ULTRA was because I conducted a wonderful interview with our beloved Peter Steele and a particular got zine I freelanced for insisted Type O were a mockery of Goth. I've found over the years that although TON are a tongue in cheek group pf artists, that the Gothic audience has embraced them and are not threatened by the bands testosterone. If fact if anything the vain gothic people are flattered by Type O's sonic therapy. (thanks pete)

So here we/I am 10 years later. I've succeeded more in making friends within the industry than I have a businessman, and for me that's okay. I like these people, a lot. We are tight, we are loyal and we are capable of having a pretty good goddamned time. And though many people see that as a bad thing, I do not. I enjoy drinking and I love girls and you get that and more in the entertainment industry. And I get to see a side of the reality that nobody gets at a meet and greet. And when they come to town who do they call? And contrary to what some people have heard, I do not sell cocaine to rock bands. I would be a rich man if I knew enough about the drug trade to be a dealer. I do sometimes get them girls. In the end, I write stories about them, and I share good times with them. Other than that, I am the luckiest fan in history.

At the same time I have not been as lucky in love. And for someone who fancies himself a bit of a romantic, that is the real downside. I've lost girls to rock stars, I've lost girls because they cannot handle themselves in the company of celebs, and I've lost girls because they cannot handle some of the things such as free alcohol that come with situations. For instance when waiting to meet some one like Alice Cooper who has been sober for a good many years now, you don't get so intoxicated and obnoxious that the tour managers insists that "you get that drunk chick away from here, you're not taking her backstage." There is indeed a breaking point and when dealing with a legend the likes of Alice, good behavior or at least decent behavior is in order. And it's respectful at the least. Now imagine me and having to deal with someone who had to deal with this level of disappointment and rejection. When it's a pretty little thing who is totally self absorbed with herself it's not a very enjoyable encore.

Sometimes it really sucks being AZ.

MK has always embraced anything that had to do with the adult entertainment industry and last year I mad the decision to take it on as part of what we write about. Many ex's in my past were intimidated by me having anything to do with "porn stars". And I finally said fuck it and went balls out. I was taken in by AVN and the rest of the industry in a way the music biz never did.

This is not to say that I haven't been embraced by a large part of the music business. But in the reality of things the music business is not as healthy as it was a decade ago or prior. Remember the good ol' days. I mean MK and myself have been lucky enough to be mentioned in many advertisements, in the inside of cds, on TV, the radio, and by record labels. For fucks sake we had out name on two pigface tours as sponsor because of what we deliver. And I've been asked to speak at Colleges, and High Schools about my involvement in the industry, it's influences and have dispelled many of it's rumors etc. Remember for some reason I've been accepted as insider.

I'm not stroking myself people, I'm only stating the facts.

And then there are the envious, and you do not want these people twisting the facts kiddies, but they do, because they are so entirely unhappy with themselves they cannot live with the fact that those of us who struggle to create something that people admire, can actually, at times, have a good time and reap a few rewards of our hard work and tireless devotion to something we love as much as music. When you're us you find out that they say things like this

*One of the main reasons Alex's magazine swtiched from
music to porn is because he burned so many bridges in
the music industry and has no idea how to run a
business. So he had to tap new resources where he
knew there would be money and they weren't hip to his
lack of business ethics

I'm the king of typos, but use spell check when you spew such venom.

Accusations like this do two things. People who know better laugh it off, and people who do not know better spread the lies like a dirty slut does herpes. And it gets around and gets worse with time because those on the outside who do not know and have no clue how it really works. And it's true, I'm not really a businessman. To devote oneself to the demographic that I do requires love and dedication. Ratings and popularity do not pay the bills, selling out does. And I refuse.

As far as the part about the disrespect of the music industry, well I think my record and kudos speak for itself. So I won't even try to defend myself on this issue. So, enjoy the show.

I like being on the inside of the porn industry. There are many things that people tend to believe about the people who work in the business that is complete bullshit and that I know the truth about which is totally ridiculous.What's so bad about hanging out with porn stars like Jenna Jameson, Jesse Jane, and even Ron Jeremy? Don't you wish you could? if you don't I have no clue why you even come to my website. When Gauge was here where do you think she went for a good time? Who took her? I had a great time as did everyone else.

I had a great time hanging out with, having lunch and dinner with, and partying with Seymore Butts, Mari Possa and company. Who wouldn't. I get to be on his Showtime reality show because of my liaison with the industry. I also learned a lot more and I love with great passion gaining knowledge from personal experience.

So why porn? It's because I know about it as I know as much as I do about rock n roll which comes from 30 years of being the ultimate fan. My father had a stack of Hustlers, Penthouse and Playboy that would rival that of any hardcore sofa jockey. That's what I call a chronic masturbator. And no, my old man wasn't, he's an infamous womanizer. I'm sure his collection inspired him. It certainly inspired me.

And working in a video store with free rentals, of course you occasionally take porn home. You neighbor rents it, and so does your family and co-worker. Don't let them lie to you, I rented to them. And when working inside sales at the cable industry you really get a look at what people are watching on pay per view.

So why porn? It's as American as baseball, hot dogs, apple pie and Chevrolet. And besides, the people in the adult industry are more fun to hang out with and work with than most anyone I can think of. Plus the woman are freaking HOT! So if I want to make a few more bucks by association myself with the industry, I don't see anything wrong with it. MK and AZ have earned more publicity, respect and exposure in the last year that in 9 years before that. And PR doesn't come cheap, and for me at least in this respect in comes free.

I may not be Donald Trump when it comes to running a business, but I have been told I'm the ultimate publicist and promoter. I only happen to not deal with top 40 horseshit. So, I'm not wealthy. But at least I have my self respect. So being AZ is not always an easy job, but it does have it's benefits.

I've been doing this for 10 years, I've been an industry insider in one way or another be it radio, clubs, theatre, sales, or a freelance for most of my life. It's what I'm good at, so why should I do anything else.

I'll see you from the VIP seats, and then at the party. If your invited. I know whoever wrote that BS about me isn't.

I have the best friends in earth and I don't have to buy them or fuck them. So sometimes though it isn't easy being AZ, it's at times, pretty fucking cool.

Now if you would excuse me I have a very successful rock band to hang out with, and it's time to go.

Alex Zander 10/2004

NEW MK ON THE WAY

The new issue is being prepared for shipping as I type this for you all to read. I am including my Hear Me Hear Me editorial that you will read in the printed version of the mag in the next few weeks.

This is the end result of the work Kevin Malone and I had conceived.

Months of hard work were completely scrapped and overhauled in the creation of the new MK issue. Suzan Abud and I began working in Late November and a few bitter cold days in December. The cold drove her out of Chicago and we were left with a 1/2 finished magazine. More interviews were done and reviews were piling up and lo and behold our web guy Kevin Malone came into the picture. He has done wonders wit the site. We had a move across town before we could begin, advertisers were backing out, the economy was in shambles and we had to switch servers due to a ridiculous amount of money being spent on our former server. I was beginning to see the light that our popularity was being taken advantage of. But it took a long time before I realized the people I had trusted for years had their paws in the honey pot. And believe me, their ain't ever been much nectar in that jar.

Two concepts of a Jesse Jane cover we had scrapped in favor of an exxxclusive image Digital Playround sent to us. Photos by Joone. Layout by Kevin Malone, concept by Zander.

]]> Jeremiah Chiu was the best intern we ever hired since Moe and his time with us ran out early. But the kid did great work. All of the other interns completely flaked on us. So it was a hard winter. Brigette did some work on the new MK as far as some layout and proofing, but has since resigned.

Our new venture into adult will hopefully be followed by a massive publicity campaign on their end. And the advertising will hopefully triple, quadruple or more. We're banking on it. It has to work or I'll have to call it a day. Next February will mark the 10 year anniversary of my venture into publishing MK ULTRA and merging it into MK Magazine. We have a series of DVD's coming out on Underground Inc and some great new t-shirts for sale. And we boast more viXXXens than ever before with more on the way.

So without further adieu the following is a sneak peek into the new MK Hear Me Hear Me letter from the editor

The old cover Suzan Abud had created in December that we scrapped when we decided to re-do the entire layout of the latest MK. Suzans work is great but our new venture into Adult made sense to go with a well known figure. We figure it will result in our best sales to date.

And a sneak peek at the opening page of our CHEMLAB interview. Layout by Kevin Malone, photo by Betty Cobb and concept by Zander.

I am sure that when many of you familiar with MK Magazine first saw this issue you wondered, "what is Jesse Jane doing on the cover of the Darkest Rock n Roll Publication In The World? Is this a bad dream? Is this still the same MK Magazine, that rose from the ashes of our beloved, dark MK Ultra?" To answer your question, yes, it's still the same MK, we're still dark we still write about many of the same bands, movies, books, and music you’ve come to associate with MK. But we are also expanding our boundaries, moving in new directions.

For years MK Ultra was considered a gothic-industrial zine and magazine. We do love many artists labeled as goth, but we’ve also written a great deal on punk, rock, metal and glam bands. It's funny how our society is so intent on labeling everything. Tommy Victor's band Prong has been dubbed industrial, yet called goth when he’s filling in on guitar for Danzig. I've always thought older Danzig had more in common with Elvis and Jim Morrison, than Bauhaus or Christian Death... From our inception and seminal debut in '94/'95 we were never interested in labels. It's another form of segregation. As Paul Stanley once said, "There's no reason you can't like steak and cheesecake." And just because my favorite bands are The Doors and Type O Negative does not mean I'm not into crooners like Pat Benatar or Neil Diamond. It's all about entertainment, and I am lucky enough to work in that business (in all its glorious forms)!

With this issue, I am certain we will finally shed any previous, restrictive labels. In addition to featuring a bevy of musical and other “marginal” artists, we promise more features on the adult entertainment industry--the products, the films, the stars, and the movers and shakers behind the scenes. This is not our first time flirting with adult entertainment. In our second issue of MK Ultra, I wrote about Christina Angel. In 1997, we featured Ron Jeremy and Hyapatia Lee. Two years later we sat down with beautiful Seka to discuss her career in our legendary Safe Sex issue. It was at that time I also decided to address sex on a regular basis, featuring a regular column that has seen a handful of talented, licensed sex advisors. Showcasing more sex is a natural progression, and it’s very rock 'n' roll--not to mention a glamorous decadence we really like. And let's not forget the MK ViXXXens, who are an integral part of our website, covers, and centerfolds!

I have been covering multiple forms and genres of entertainment since I was a youngster--from my sixth grade Sci-Fi zine, my early days as a freelancer writer, to my years as a radio and club DJ. When we put Type O and Pigface on the cover of the first MK Ultra in 1994, we were immediately labeled goth/industrial. And even though we've featured lighter, radio-popular acts like Sheryl Crow, Melissa Etheridge, Garbage, and The Donnas, as well as non-musical talents such as comic book legend Stan Lee, Disney’s Stuart Gordon, and comedian/magician Penn Jilette, we are still get snubbed from time to time by execs, publicists, reps, and artists for being "too goth" for their tastes and only being about music. Five years ago I sat at a bar in Chicago next to a really cool beer drinker I later found out was Kid Rock. We carried on about rock music, canoeing, and David Allan Coe. Yet, on his most recent tour, his record label refused to set me up for an interview or concert review, considering "MK a gothic magazine". What the fuck? If I was so goth why would I want to see Kid Rock and why do I play his new CD so much? Just because I enjoy a backstage moment with Daniel Ash or enjoy Ministry from the front row doesn’t mean I can’t also dig Kid Rock. I went to the show anyway with a friend after purchasing two last-minute tickets, and not having the vantage point of media seating to properly review the performance.

So, over most of the last decade we have been written off by many in the entertainment industry because we write so much about Nine Inch Nails, Filter, The Hellfire Club, Pigface, The Misfits, Type O Negative, and other similar notable musicians. Never one to accept limitations imposed by others and always one to network and explore new avenues, I sent an e-mail to the new leaders of the adult entertainment industry, AVN (Adult Video News) Magazine. The cold-shoulder and narrow-minded attitude I so often got from the music industry was about to fade... AVN quickly telephoned me with much refreshing enthusiasm.

AVN President Tim Connelly and I chatted. Fifteen minutes later their music columnist, Frank Majors, phoned me. Within a week I was interviewed for AVN Online about the emerging rock and porn connection. Six weeks later I was on a plane with Greg Miner, on our way to Las Vegas as special guests and reporters of the AVN Adult Entertainment Expo and Awards Show (an event many people consider the "Greatest Show On Earth"). We kept day one of our itinerary open so we could take some time to learn the massive show's floor layout housed in The Venetian Hotel. We introduced ourselves to many of the publicists that I’d come to know in the six weeks prior. That evening we attended one of the many VIP invite-only parties for which the Expo is known to host. On day two we were booked solid with interviews, the first of which was our cover girl Jesse Jane. Day three was spent doing more interview and photos to document our venture. Since then, I've been featured as part of an AVN cover story, they've run my photo (alongside Larry Flynt's, I might add), and they’ve favorably reviewed our on-line home www.mk-magazine.com.

We are now making this official. MK Magazine not only exposes the most intense music, films, and artists on the planet, but we’re also striving to be your premier rock 'n' porn publication, highlighting the best in adult entertainment. However, we are executing the task in a unique style you won’t see in other publications that "dance on the edge". We will not show nudity in the magazine and the ViXXXens website gallery will never display full frontal nudity. Our new adult film review column, "Fast Forward", will not use profanity or purposely vulgar words and phrases to describe or critique the flicks. We want to avoid obscenity and indecency (as deemed by us, and the law). Many times the film titles alone are enough to do that, so we don't need to! We hope that you'll enjoy our latest expansion, taking note that we are not turning our backs on the MK original mission established nine years ago.

I'd like to make a few significant points about the adult entertainment industry. Contrary to popular belief, most of the girls who have made this their chosen professions are not victims of child molestation, incest, and/or drug abuse. They are all beautiful in their own ways. Some are highly intelligent. They are eager young ladies using their bodies and sexual talents to provide entertainment to the millions of Americans who devour every aspect of the industry. And we at MK have the utmost respect for them. The producers, agents, publicists, and all of the other hard-working behind-the-scenes laborers are by far THE most professional, courteous and respectful people I have ever met in the entertainment business. They are not the greasy, slime ball caricatures that the more conservative, mainstream media typically portrays. They are also not all men as some less informed people might think. For example, Digital Playground was founded by a woman, is masterfully managed by an all-female staff, they are represented by wonderful media relations women, and they produce grand big-budget films with the female consumer in mind. I am pleased and proud to be associated with this industry, and to continue exploring new frontiers for MK Magazine.

And honestly, the majority of the MK "demographic" plays a significant role in indulging in the many adult products that rake in billions of dollars each year. The idea of the occasional trench-coated pervert sneaking into a peep show "quarter arcade" or a dingy adult bookstore is simply a conservative manufactured fiction meant to divert us all from identifying with and acknowledging the mass consumption of adult entertainment. The AVN AEE was proof in that. Men and women, business professionals and everyday joes, public officials and Hollywood entertainers, as well as me, you, and your next door neighbors were all present at the Expo. Just say the names Ron Jeremy, John Holmes, or Jenna Jameson, and most any ordinary person will know whom you are talking about--even if they do scoff, snicker or grin sheepishly at the mere mention of pornography. Take a look at your television programming. Ron Jeremy recently bunked in a posh home with Tammy Faye in a highly rated reality show. This is further proof of the acceptance and integration of pornography into the mainstream world. Whether you are an avid fan, an "in the closet" consumer, or an openly critical antagonist of adult entertainment, you are nonetheless familiar with the art form. If an honest, unbiased poll of all adults was take, I guarantee we’d find there are far more zealots and supporters than there is opposition. Adult entertainment in its many varieties and incarnations is here to stay. And MK is here to bring all of the naughty, sleazy, glitzy, and glamorous adult lifestyle to you in a darkly humorous, respectful, unique way we hope you enjoy.

Rock and sex were actually married long ago. The two genres mingled when Elvis's gyrating pelvis was deemed too explicit for television, when Gene Simmons's sexually charged tongue lashings tantalized his squirming female fans, and when the term rock 'n' roll was coined for that matter! So welcome to our growing family, welcome to a new MK frontier, and take delight in this latest merging of extreme, and sometimes controversial, art forms in addition to our usual menu of musicians, writers, artists, books, films, and other media we are so fond of sharing with you...

SINcerely,
Alex Zander

Subject: Five Years Since The Columbine Massacre

An examination by Alex Zander

Five years ago, on April 20, 1999, Columbine students Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold killed 12 students in their sleepy Colorado town high school, before committing suicide. The events that followed had an unfortunate and enormous domino effect on the entertainment business, including myself, in it's path.

]]> At 7:20 AM this morning NBC’s Today Show did an extended special about the Columbine tragedy. One reporter reviewed the facts of that fateful day, then capped his segment commenting, "It's been 5 years, and we still don't know why this happened." This is yet another example of irresponsible media reporting, tabloid TV, yellow journalism, hype and above all… denial.

April 20th was also the same day as the final KMFDM album was released on Wax Trax Records, and it was Hitler's birthday. People were at first quick to somehow blame the music of KMFDM, and Rammstein for the boys’ outburst, before finally settling on Marilyn Manson as a scapegoat. Suddenly the two boys were considered Goth, and what little mainstream America thought they knew about Goth music and style was about to change drastically.

I have addressed this issue time and time again in the five years since this tragic occurrence. Newspapers and radio stations from all over the country contacted me for quotes. One interview actually happened from the office and in the company of my then employer HBO and manager Bob Hoeksema. I was interviewed live on the air by a station in New England about Goth music, the style what they through it was and what my version of it was. I was also asked to discuss what Rammstein and KMFDM represent and what their music was about. I found this very difficult because these two German bands have very little to do with what the two boys, other than being listeners of their music. And being that they represented nothing more than an art form and original music, they never made a “statement” other than there is something better than what is dished out and over-produced for mainstream masses consumption. For whatever reasons (probably because Manson was a more well-known name, had more controversial exposure in the American press and thus was an easier target than Rammstein or KMFDM), the witch-hunt quickly turned to Marilyn Manson whose popularity was on the brink of fading away. This is not to say Manson had slipped completely below the radar, but his hype and sales slipped from where they were during the heyday of the Anti-Christ Superstar era.

I also addressed this topic in the pages of MK ULTRA as well as on my weekly syndicated radio program MK ULTRASOUND when I had Martin Atkins on as a guest. And the subject of whatever musical influence “must have” had over these guys seems to rear it's ugly head from time to time whenever the media reports on it.

It's grown redundant to me, but it is equally important to me, striking a very personal chord. First and foremost, please note that neither Harris nor Klebold were “Goth kids”. PLEASE give me a break and get over it. They are about as Goth as I am and I'm not—not by any stretch of the word! They wore black trench coats. Big deal. So do the characters of “The Matrix”. These were suburban spoiled rich kids whose parents didn't pay attention to what they were up to. And I don't feel like I'm being too harsh here because, after all, they were building explosive devices and hoarding weapons right under their parents noses! I could have never gotten away with that, even though my old man rarely came home except when it was time to lay down the law (as he saw fit) and dish out heaping serving of punishment.

However, I'm not going to rest the blame squarely on the shoulders of their parents here, because this runs much deeper than poor parenting.

Maybe Harris and Klebold were geeks or nerds or dorks. Who knows… The kids that picked on the two and bullied them probably know. They did have girlfriends, and it looks like they had a good time at the prom when they had a rented limo to take them to and from the spring annual dance. And being neither of them sported an “alternative” haircut—such as dying it jet black, using Manic Panic colors, or sculpting a large Mohawk—it seems that they were both far from what any knowledgeable person would consider Goth. But someone used this word and the media ran with it. And KMFDM and Rammstein are not Goth, though they are popular in some circles of the Goth community (as well as other “marginal lifestyle communities). Nine Inch Nails are more accepted by the Goth community than the latter, and even more popular in the mainstream. I'm sure for every Goth kid who listens to NIN, there are two mainstream kids who buy the CDs at Tower Records as well.

So lets rule out music and Goth. In order to be responsible and reasonable, not to mention LOGICAL, we have to.

Now let’s examine a few of the facts that have been reported over the years. The diabolical duo were originally dubbed ''Trench Coat Mafia" by the bullies who poked fun at them on a regular basis. If you went to a public high school, you know that there were always a group of kids that were picked on. And shame on you if you felt bad for them and did nothing about it. So, at some point they adopted the label "Trench Coat Mafia" and ran with it. Just like the homosexual community have accepted the Queer tag after all these decades and the country folk wear Redneck proudly. These kids were isolated from the majority of the school community and formed their own small clique as a statement against those who pushed them around (verbally, physically, and mentally).

By relating to what these boys went through I can give my honest take on the events that followed because I was one of the kids that got beat up at least once a week throughout my school career. I had my books kicked down the hall, my clothes dunked in the toilet while I was in gym class, my locker jammed, my locker robbed and all of my notes, and my homework stolen—all on a regular basis. I got called fag everyday even though my girlfriends (and I had a few of them) were much "hotter" than any of those good ol’ boys would ever even dream of as they rubbed snuff. High School was the hardest time of my life. I dreaded everyday I had to go. And if it wasn't for my dreams and my love of playing music, I would not have made it out of there. Every time I got in a fight I was given an in-school suspension. And I never once started an incident, however the principal informed me the only way to avoid it would be to ball up in the corner until a teacher stopped it. I would not do that, even though at 5’10 and 120 lbs I was hardly a match for the football player who usually pounded my head against the locker. So I took the suspension. By my senior year I took to walking to school in order to avoid getting jumped in the parking lot when I got off of the bus. And as for the teachers, at least in my school, they enjoyed watching a few minutes of a good fight before feeling obligated to break it up. Where I went to school two of the teachers, who were also sports coaches, got into a knock-down drag-out fight in the hall during school time. When I was a freshman, one of the teacher/coaches dated (A nicer word for screwed) and married the prom-queen right after she graduated. My junior year, they were already divorced and he married the prom-queen from that school year after she graduated. These are not exactly the kind of men who are going to stop the town’s only cop’s oldest son from getting his head bashed in daily. Because who busted these kids every time they were drinking or drag racing? My old man. Who busted the teachers for having parties with underage students? My old man. And it didn't help I was into punk rock music and proudly sported the accompanying fashions. No, in fact as far as everyone else was concerned, I was asking for it.

Perhaps the students who picked on Harris and Klebold are responsible for triggering what happened. And let’s not overlook the teachers responsibly for allowing the more “popular” kids to make each day hell for those they prey upon. To even imagine that the teachers didn't know about this kind of constant ridicule and abuse would be a horrible injustice. That's the bottom line. The popular kids and the athletes are commonly allowed to skate through classes and enjoy all of the privileges their school and society have to offer, while the same experiences are typically not served up to those who march to the beat of a different drummer. That is just a plain and simple fact, and whether you agree with me or not reveals which side of this division you experienced.

A few of the more popular excuses are, "well the kid didn't have to be such a freak." Or "you can help how you dress and wear your hair. Hell, they were pretty much asking for it." I'm sorry but that's bullshit. If they didn't break a dress-code, there should be no problem with their appearances. After all, it was 1999. There's little excuse for such social prejudice when there are more impactful issues, leading to such safeguards as minorities and homosexuals having laws that are supposed to protect their rights. In America, we’re guaranteed Freedom Of Speech/Expression/Choice by The U. S. Constitution, the founding doctrine of this Republic’s livelihood. Talk about a social injustice! It seems that in this day and age, the Bill Of Rights is pretty much insignificant to the common citizen. That alone is a damn shame.

Furthermore, abusing someone due to his or her appearance whether it is hair, attire, or musical taste should also be considered a hate crime, but in our society IT IS NOT! And this as far as I’m concerned is something that needs to be addressed. A punk rocker, a Goth kid, a metal head or a modern day hippie should be protected by the same laws that protect someone who opts for any other type of alternative lifestyle, and are protected by laws against “hate crimes” (which are simply criminal activities targeting marginal/minority persons based on ignorant prejudices). But the powers that be in their ultimate wisdom have chose to ignore the prejudice faced by those who chose a different identity to represent who they feel they are inside.

So, we can assume that the outrage and despair that the kids who took the lives of 12 students and of their own was one of desperation. Again, I will put my own youth and experience in perceptive in order to attempt to answer the query: "And we still don't know why it happened?"

A kid in that/my position might very well feel one of two extreme ways. For me, it was thoughts of suicide or revenge. Taking my own life or inflicting pain on someone else seems the easiest way out of the daily trauma and pain. But when you're backed into a corner daily, you tend to feel desperate. “What have you got to lose?” goes though your head an awful lot, especially when you're forced into that position. Of course, “the system” teaches us that suicide and revenge are the cowardly ways out. But taking a loaded gun to school and confronting who you believe at that time is your enemy is far from what I would call cowardly. (Ironically it isn't called cowardly when you tote a gun into a war you’re forced into, in order to kill someone you don't personally know and hasn’t inflicted personal trauma on you.) I also felt the urge for revenge. To say the thoughts never crossed my mind would be a lie. Though I didn’t dwell on the horrible thoughts they way the Columbine kids did, instead I absorbed my self into rock music and creating music with a band. The exact same art form that the professionals probing the Columbine issue blame for the tragedy. In my day KISS was Marilyn Manson, and now KISS are nostalgia.

Nevertheless it bottles up in you and when you feel totally alone, and you have parents who don't care and aren’t involved in your life, teachers who don't care, a system that turns it back on anyone perceived as a rebel (which in all honesty, these guys were), and your “fellow classmates” bully you to the point that you dread the thought of walking down the hall and facing any more ridicule and abuse, sometimes you want to strike out. And unfortunately, for all involved, Eric and Dylan took action in a way they were never conditioned to understand was as inhumane as the suffering they faced each day. And a lot of people paid for it.

What I am saying absolutely does not justify or excuse what they did! It was a terrible act of violence. But it was also a reaction to the violence and neglect they felt in their lives. For myself my “revenge” was “getting the fuck out of Dodge”. I got silent revenge every time I passed through that small dirty town, only to see one of my old bullies pump my gas as I sat in the car with a buxom beauty they'd never get to experience. I felt a tingle of sweet revenge when I stopped by my 10-year class reunion with that month’s featured Playboy model on my arm. No guns were ever drawn, nobody got hurt. Well, maybe a few fat balding guys with the girls they dated in high school as their miserable wives got their egos bruised a little. I tell you what, they didn't call me faggot that time, at least to my face. And maybe it's a cheesy way of dealing with it but it was my way and it's better than being dead or being in prison for life or for being notorious forever in history as a skinny little freak kid who massacred a dozen of my classmates, no matter how much I could associate with how the “Trench Coat Mafia” boys felt.

So, when approached with a statement "It's been 5 years, and we still don't know why this happened." We all need consider the variables of this examination.

Why did I feel the need to address it one more time? Because I feel a responsibility to address it one more time for all of those who are so absorbed with the CNN version, or Hard Copy, or Fox News or for Bill O'Reilly to dissect and assume what is responsible for what Harris and Klebold did. The mass media is completely missing the point, and it’s not as scandalous and glamour as blaming Marilyn Manson, when they should blame the system and the parents and their own kids for being bullies and intimidating the people they feel are different”. The bottom line is the truth wouldn’t generate the same ratings as Manson’s band canceling a tour and being banded from OzzFest shows in Colorado.

But the truth is the truth whether you chose to accept it or deny it. It's not Marilyn Manson's fault, nor Goth, nor KMFM or Rammstein or anyone at Wax Trax Records. But it sure is easy to point the finger at someone else to take the blame when it's nothing more than the unwritten rule of popular society, to pick on what they think is weak and to feel power over this who are unable to protect themselves, because after all, there is power in numbers. And on this day five years ago two kids in Littleton Colorado turned the tables and became the ultimate bully.

Special thanks to Brigette Sullivan for contributing editing skills

10 Years and 1 Day Since Cobain Suicide

Tuesday April 6, 2004

Kurt Cobain and his band, Nirvana, spent only three years in the public eye, and they released only three studio albums. But what he accomplished before committing suicide 10 years ago Monday at age 27 — deciding it was "better to burn out than fade away," as he quoted Neil Young in his suicide note — was remarkable.

Beneath a bridge above the muddy banks of the Wishkah River, a troubled young Cobain would come to escape his unhappy home and the persistent gray drizzle of the Washington coast.

Among the cracking concrete supports, he would smoke pot and drink and plot his stardom, bragging to friends of his "suicide genes" and that he would die a young rock star.

]]> It's here that many of his fans pay their respects since he fulfilled that prophesy with a needle and a shotgun.

"Peace, love, empathy," reads one message scrawled in graffiti under the bridge.

Critics describe 1991's "Nevermind," which has sold more than 10 million copies, as one of the decade's most important albums. Its biggest hit, "Smells Like Teen Spirit," remains a seminal expression of teen angst. Cobain brought the dark, driven sound of grunge rock to the nation, helped save the world from hair metal, and with a single line — "Here we are now, entertain us" — captured and captivated a generation that had grown bored and cynical about popular music.

I own the Nevermind album but as far as it being credited as one of the greatest albums of all time up there with Sgt. Pepper or The White Album, I don't get it, I never did, not then and not now.

The video and the single Smells Like Teen Spirit for me represents everything that is bad about MTV and radio and the mass media in general. I was sick of that song, and I always believed that there were 3 or 4 other songs on that album that were better. A song where I never understood the words was the voice of a new generation at the time. That is pathetic. Nirvana were to me just a mediocre band, at best, that made it. All it really represented to me was the backlash to hair bands like Motley Crue and Poison who dominated MTV up until then. It was just another trend, and not a glamorous one at that. And the really bad hair bands were overplayed and over rated as well. Overkill is what I prefer to call it.

There was never anything tongue in cheek about Cobains lyrics. They weren't a fun band to listen to, as they were live. One of the greatest moments in music history is at the MTV Video Awards after Kurt and Courtney traded verbal words with Axl Rose. And apparently Axl made a fuss, since he never had a sense of humor. During the Nirvana performance, either David or Chris was yelling "Hi Axl" over and over, and Chris tossed his bass up and it came down on his head.

Kurt Cobain wasn't the first rock star to battle addiction, but he was the fastest to disappear . Three years is hardly enough time to validate one as a legend. Who knows if Nirvana would have fallen off the charts or would become the victim of another passing trend and be has beens in the wake of urban music's domination of the media. It is very likely they could have become the same thing that they had helped turn watered down hair band cock rock metal into. It's not that illogical, infact it is probable but we'll never know.

It's too bad Kurt Cobain couldn't have become a better example to the kids who worshipped and idolized home, but like Sid Vicious, he has his Nancy in Courtney. And if you've ever read the book by Nancy's mother, Deborah Spungen "And I Don't Want To Live This Life Anymore", you'd see the simulates are horrifying right down to a young Miss Love appearing in the film. it's sad because if Kurt could have shed his demons including drug abuse and his wife he could have said to Gen X "Hey, I made it and so can you."

None of Nirvanas music celebrated life. It hailed angst as a party. It held negativity in high regard. And if rock n roll is a downer than I'm in the wrong business. There's enough of social unrest in real life, escaping into it as an artform is not fun. But that's just me and my favorite band is Type O Negative a band who does it in such and extreme way you can laugh at yourself later. Does that make me a hypocrite? Well, a bunch of long haired tattooed hippies from Brooklyn who are as lily white as they come singing "Kill All the White People" for me is fun. A learch of a sinner who could crush you in his bare hands, and has women throwing themselves at him screaming I Know You're Fucking Someone Else" offers comic relief to those of us who were distraught of the same shit.

My point is, life is tough and sometimes it simply sucks, but it isn't so bad that you can't get through it. To make a legacy out of fifteen minutes of shame doesn't make sense. And like the Sex Pistols "Near Mind The Bollocks" album, yes it makes a statement, but as far as I'm concerned is hardly worthy of being credited in the top 5 of all time let alone the top 10 or 20 for that fact.

Maybe after one of Kurt's failed suicide attempts in Europe on a tour that became postponed his estranged wife shouldn't have taken his child away and left him alone. Things may have turned out differently. Instead she rode on his untucked shirt tails and for a short while was a rock star herself. And where is Hole now? It's likely Nirvana would be in the same place. But we will never really know this for sure. But according to history of popular music over the last decade the smart money is on the trios popularity maintaining cult status at best.

The Nevermind album still sits on my shelf but as far as playing it, I don't think the actual disc has come out of it's case is over 5 years, maybe more. And yesterday MTV programming centered around Nirvana and the channel that made the band what they are also managed to find another way to cash in on the Cobain tragedy. And that alone says it all for me.

Alex Zander

The Men In Black Invade Sin City for The Greatest Show On Earth

MK’s Alex Zander and Greg Miner cover the 2004 AVN Adult Entertainment Expo

(For complete photos see our gallery section)

- by Alex Zander MK Founder and President

FRIDAY 1/09/04

Every January right after the holidays, Las Vegas hosts the largest Adult
convention of the year. Attendees include fans, vendors, buyers, and of
course porn stars.

]]> Very early Friday January 9, Greg Miner and I were in Chicago's O'Hare
International Airport boarding an American West flight to Sin City, otherwise known as Las Vegas Nevada. It was a business trip for the annual AVN Expo and Adult Video Awards.

The arrangements were only made 2 months earlier, when I was interviewed by the publication that sponsors the ever-popular event. In fact by the time we had put in our request for press credentials the show was already being hailed
as the most popular to date. And it was about to become evident when we entered the Sands Expo Center adjacent to the Venetian Hotel and Casino.
More on that later.

After we checked into our rooms and cleaned up as much as two long hairs
draped in black are able to, we walked into the massive convention center, got
our badges and were photographed for their records. Security was tight at
this shindig and rightfully so. As we passed the endless line of the thousands who were wading through the line, we had our badges scanned and our images would appear on the security guards hand held monitors. It was nice to know our credentials sand identities were secure and nobody could pose as either one of us. From what I understand, there had been a ridiculous amount of badge swapping in the past.

Once inside we sought out the many names to put with the faces of the
publicity people I've been conversing with over the last 60-days. They also
happen to be the same people who are flooding me with pornographic DVD's.
During our first day at the AVN Expo we mostly shook hands with the appropriate individuals we would have to find on the following day in order
to conduct the interviews we had scheduled.

Jenna Jameson had a line of gargantuan proportions waiting for her. It was unbelievable. Ron Jeremy's line was rather large as well but was a nice counterpart to his bloated head. Now don't get me wrong. Ron is a very nice guy and an extremely respected cultural icon, however the size of this mans melon looks like it needs to be tapped. It appeared like a great pumpkin on his short yet hairy and plump frame. Ron doesn't seem to mind, and why would he. The man holds the world’s record for appearing in the most porn films
and he has worked with every beauty from Ginger Lynn in the early 80's to the platinum perfectly sculpted life-size Barbie's who monopolize the industry today.

Greg was in his element as we weaved our way around the massive convention center. As my cameraman he proved to be eager, able and willing. He was relentlessly shooting images of booths, porn stars attendees and celebrities who also attended the event. The truly amazing thing about the Expo to me was the enormous amount of paying public and fans of the industry who popped out $75 per day to stand in long lines to meet and get autographs from the starlets.

Legends Nina Hartley and Ginger Lynn were virtually unattainable. Unless you wanted to stand in line for hours there as no chance of speaking a word to them or looking in their eyes, or their other famous attributes. I don't do lines anymore. I haven't stood in a line since I got into publishing and I'm not going to start now. Besides, I met Nina years ago in Ohio and she wore my leather biker jacket as she posed for a photo with me, and Chris Curry obtained Gingers autograph for me almost a decade ago. I hold these leading ladies of porn in high regard, but I’m more fascinated by the young hot crop the industry has recently spawned. What has been dubbed as gonzo has me completely in awe and as we were about to learn, a good many of these young ladies aren't even 21, or if they are just happen to be just over the legal drinking age.

I met the people at Abyss who manufacture and design the Real Dolls. Drew Carey owns four of them, but I never want to see one of these creepy things in my home. They do appear to be "real" girls, and in the dark they could fool even the most clear headed social drinker. However they are cold and dead to the touch. And even a necrophiliac would freak over these things. I posed for a photo inserting a middle finger into a particular
orifice I chose, laughed and continue to converse with it's creator.

We again made our way around the ever-expanding parade of attendees and we
noticed that barely any of the new ladies in this profession are over 5 ft tall. In fact most of them are approximately 4'11 under 100 lbs with about 10 lbs. of silicone/saline and collagen. Some are naturally beautiful and some are only attractive in the light under about a pound of make up over their flawed skin. The male stars of this generation are not nearly in the 6 ft. range but are muscular and buff, and with the creation of viagra any man now can perform in front of a camera and room full of onlookers, producers and fluff girls.

So far we were well received and we treated with the utmost respect and admiration. There was no attitude amongst the professionals the way there are in rock n roll. No attitudes and no massive egos were apparent.

I came across Tiffany Mynx signing Buttman posters and postcards and mentioned I owned her comic book. She smiled, looked me in the eye and asked, "Are you going to whip it out?" and I responded "What the comic book or? " She laughed and looked at a fan and asked him, "Honey why are you shaking, you're shaking baby." I couldn't help but laugh. There we a
lot of guys who may have never been laid or at least had the pleasure of
being with such willing and lovely specimens. Not being vain myself, but
working in the entertainment business and being engulfed with celebrities and sex symbols, it's become a life of experiences that I have become numb to. And have been for a long time.

I sent about an hour plus in the private B2B (business to business) area
Which was wholesalers and vendors and was cut off to the general public. This was where I exchanged most of our newly printed business cards and collected samples of their products. I spoke at length with the sales rep for Vivid Virility (a supplement which contains a proprietary blend of all-natural herbs designed to enhance a woman's libido and maximize orgasms.) He gave me a few samples of the male and female variety and I moved on.

This was not an area for photographing and meeting porn stars, and Greg was
getting annoyed by it. Granted it wasn't fun but this was one of the biggest reasons I traveled here. I exchanged cards and then we went back out with the masses. And it was crowded, too crowded. And there was no alcohol allowed on the floor, as my claustrophobia kicked in. When I'm in a crowded room of this magnitude and don't have a drink to calm me down, the result is not comforting.

So we made our exit, decided to grab a bite to eat, a few drinks, go to our
room and prepare for the parties that would begin later in the night. On the
way through the lobby I met photographer Suze Randal who both Grego and I are fans of and got a photo with her. She seemed honored to be asked for a picture. We met her husband, daughter and babysitter.

We got to our room, grabbed a bottle of Tequila that Marcos Vato had sent us to Vegas with and walked around looking for a place to eat. Las Vegas after Thursday should be called Las "Read The Small Print" Vegas. This is because many deals that are advertised are not valid on the weekend. This was something we learned pretty quickly. We filled our bellies and hopped a
cab to the Venetian where Jill Kelly Productions had us on the guest list for their all night party. The line of people trying to get in was hilarious and VIP's were light. I was to discover the next day that it was due to the Seymour Butts party-- which we were on the list for--that was also going on with open-bar. I was under the impression Seymour’s party was the following evening. Anyway, we partied there for about 4 hours and then went back to our hotel.

SATURDAY 1/10/04

I had no problem falling asleep since I got very little sleep the previous 48 hours, and I had a full day of interviews lined up back at the Expo in the morning.

At 8:30 I was alive and kicking and got my bag together with tapes, a recorder, a video camera and my materials with instructions for my interviews. We arrived at the Expo and waited to be let in with the industry types at 10AM which
was when our first interview was scheduled for. After getting past Hitler Jr. we shot directly back to the Digital Playground booth.

We were surprised to learn that alcohol was banned at the show. It turns out that somebody was busted giving away beer and (simulated?) blowjobs at the AVN Expo. The ATF (Bureau of Alcohol,Tobacco and Firearms) shut somebody down and stopped the entire convention from selling alcohol. On the first day, the AVN Expo was selling beer and alcohol. Then it stopped. Why?

Whoever was giving away the beer at the Expo faces a $500,000 fine.

XXX says: Two girls were caught exposing themselves on day one. Sands Expo
Center was cited for serving alcohol in a place with nudity....one more citation and they would have lost there license to sell booze altogether so they just shut it down instead of risking it.

We actually had a bottle of Jack Daniels half full of Arizona Ice Tea stuffed into our bag. We wanted the girls to pose with it as mans best friend. Something Grego and I thought was funny. We found a bar in the lobby to periodically refill our blood system with drinks every hour or so. can't have too much blood in the alcohol system.

In the DP booth Adella (the publicist for the company) set up interviews with director Bobby D, and Nic Andrews, who both vowed never to work in the mainstream again. The industry is so profitable and the money far exceeds anything in the mainstream. With the exception of Gregory Dark, none of these guys have any desire even to do music videos.

After talking to the two fellows we were introduced to the lovely Jesse
Jane. Her presence was intense and she was soft spoken, witty and a
pleasure. She truly has some brains to go along with her body. Jesse is 22,
started off at Hooters and later on was a Hawaiian Tropics girl. She has a perfect little face with enhanced lips as well as seriously exaggerated breasts. Miss Jane is very tiny at 4'11 and a lot of fun. We shared a few laughs, and then she posed for a few photos and a brief video before we were off.

After taking a little break we returned to talk with Devon, another of the contract starts for DP. She was really nice as well but appeared to be tired
and a little hung over. She spoke of an abusive relationship and many things
that were totally the opposite of JJ. We were caught off guard to learn that
she took 8 hours to complete her energetic virtual DVD which is one of the
biggest sellers. These girls only do the big budget films by the way.

We wrapped up and it was time to head over to Metro to begin our interviews. Their publicist Janie directed us to the most cozy and hospitable location for press and stars, complete with deli tray and refreshments. Our first interview was with a hard-edged but gorgeous director named Britney Foster. She had the platinum curls and killer body that the stars all own, but films only girl/girl films. She had a well-hidden tattoo on her neck that read “Fuck off”. She was very-very cool and seemed to understand our distaste for all girl scenes.

We followed up by interviewing Kelly Erikson, Latin Bombshell AnnMarie, and the tiny and insatiable Gauge. Gauge was fun and quite open, despite her reputation for being difficult. We talked about her house arrest, her upcoming gonzo series for Fusxion and her contract with Metro which was almost never came to be.

Bridgette Kerkove was nowhere to be found but we saw her hubby hobnobbing all day in a booth we didn't really expect to see him in. Ron Jeremy was also late and rescheduled the next day, but unfortunately we had other obligations with Wicked on Sunday at the same time.

Over at Sin City we talked to the young, tall and energetic Aurora Snow, who has been appearing in some truly gonzo and anal stuff. Now you have to keep in mind that I’ve been out of the Adult Film loop for several years and just becoming aware of gonzo and the young girls that appear in the genre. It's not what I consider self-preservation but it is awe-inspiring and some fun eye candy to behold.

Greg and I decided to gather some more photos and a bunch of autographs for Marcos, who was nice enough to send us out there with some killer tequila. Marcos is also one of those loyal friends who’s always there and asks for nothing. He already has an O in his name and is always and O in our book.

As we walked about we ran into a few celebrity types. Mike Tyson and his large posse rushed through the crowd in what looked more like an attempt to be seen. Unless he was on a butt hunt. I couldn't help it and yelled out
"rapist!". His crew looked around but we were hidden in a crowd unlike any I've ever seen. It rivaled that of any rock concert I've been to. And the lines were endless.

I ran into Hulk Hogan and he was cool enough to pose for a photo. Then Max Hardcore smiled for a shot, and he seemed like a really nice guy. He’s also a short man. I asked him if he remembered Shane Bugbee (aka Mike Hunt) from Chicago. He denied. I followed up with, "yeah he and his wife Amy have EvilNow.com, mikehuntsonfire.com, hosted the Expo Of The Extreme and several Court Of Porn show, and said you know them" and he claimed to never heard of them. This made me feel like a fool because I truly believed Shane had worked with the guy as he claimed. Max took it all in stride and was a perfect gentleman.

Next I ran into Kevin Starr who I met in Hollywood a year ago at The Key Club and his wife Elizabeth who has seriously overblown torpedoes. She's in the Smashmouth video "Your My Number One" She now measures a 44 double I breast size. Kevin provided us with a couple beers. It didn't occur to me at this time that the booze was shut out of the show. It was great seeing them again and then they introduced me to a very whacked member of Pretty Boy Floyd who just did a show here in Chicago with our friends I LOVE RICH. This guy, as cool and friendly as he was, had been up for days and it showed. He was sloppy and funny at the same time. And I reminisced about the times I've been in public in that condition. Now I know what it looked like to others. Sure makes me glad I've put those days behind me. Hunter S. Zander. We rapped and traded contact info And he promised to come play Chicago again soon.

Greg and I were on a quest to meet Rob Black and Extreme Associates, who were temporarily suspended while under investigation by the government. When we found his booth we were thrilled. We met his mother and father who were great and we explained how we were behind what they’re about. Rob’s father hung out with us till we found Rob and then Greg and Jimbo were at 100%. This guy is shocking to say the least. He cranks out the stuff people who love Porn are offended by and we find that amusing. Extreme and shocking is fun to the two men in black and we made our own suggestions which Mr. Black seemed amused by, or maybe he was disgusted and just wanted us to go away. Either way, we praised him for taking on the people trying to suppress the First Amendment.

We were really starting to get tired and as we strolled around the ever
expanding crowd it seemed like it was closing in on us. TV and film crews
were showing up and the fans were coming in by the boatload. So we decided to get out of dodge and finish up the following day. We grabbed the bottle and as we arrived outside were appalled by the lines for the cabs and limos. There was no way we would be able to stand the wait after being up on our feet all day. We were told the wait would be well over an hour at any location so we headed for the strip. There we heard the annoying pumping of bass and bad music. It was two rich kids and I flagged them down. We asked them for a lift and they obliged. We were laughing our asses off at their poor choice of music and at our destination jumped out of their car and ran up to our hotel.

I was beat so I grabbed a few drinks and one of those 3/4 pounder hot dogs
and by 7:30 was out cold. After I fell asleep Grego had apparently said “Fuck It!” and went across the street to “The Girls Of Glitter Gulch” a topless gentleman’s club. 6 hours later I was awakened by Greg—raging, intoxicated and in his rarest form ever. He was a screaming like a madman, having apparently spent the previous 6 hours boozing it up. He told me had the best lap dances of his life and had a white chick, a black chick a Asian a Brazilian whose sister also worked in the club. After he passed out I was wide awake for the rest of the night, and that was the last sleep I'd get until about 11PM on Monday back in Chicago. In my state of unrest I wandered around looking for anything to eat and all the eateries were closed but the bars and gambling tables were open for business. I made a few calls had a few hair of the dogs to wake me up and decided to wake up Greg from his drunken slumber.

Sunday 1/11/04

We had one more day to go and made our way by noon for one more exhausting day at the AVN Expo. Our driver for some reason felt the need to drop us off about a mile away from the Venetian, and normally I wouldn't mind but I was carrying a bag from shoulder to shoulder that was heavier than most of the super-sized cat litter bags I buy for my boys. And a nylon strap 2 inches wide can be rather painful digging into ones shoulder. It was about this time a female valet called me out and said, "I saw you on Channel last night". Greg asked "us?", and she replied, I don't know about you but I saw him on Channel at the Porn Awards." BUSTED!

In the press room as I made an update to this site Daniel Metcalf from Wicked asked if I’d be dropping by. I confirmed and we went back upstairs. The crowd was far lighter then the day before. We saw Vince Neil and his chick and said goodbye to a few others. We conducted interviews with Syndee Steele, Stephanie Swift and Kaylani Lei. With them we hung out in the Wicked Booth for a while took some photos and autographs and made some small talk.

Walking around I ran into Dino Cazares who I knew from back when he was in Fear Factory. He was a big fan of Tyfanny Mynx when we last talked a few years ago. I pointed her out and he told me that they are now friends. We chatted about his new band Killing Spree and about Dez and his new band Devil Driver who I am old friends with. He talked to Greg about when Electric Hellfire Club used to open for FF. Greg incidentally used to play guitar of EHC and that’s How we met back in 1995.

And we wandered off into the mix, tired, hungover and washed out.

By mid afternoon we were wiped out. And from the looks of everyone else working the show so were they. I mentioned to a few of the girls that I never thought I’d be tired of porn and they agreed. As we made our third and final exit we stopped at a Hotel bar in the heart of the Venetian and saved a young Asian porn starlet from some middle-aged fat cats throwing their money around. They even bought me a drink and I chatted with their prey till she managed to make her escape thanking us in the process.

We had a few drinks and watched some drunken girls make out for cameras, and I stopped Vince Neil in the lobby for a photo and to talk about his appearance on Expose in Chicago, which he doesn’t recall. Grego and I had a few more laughs and managed to hail a cab to our final destination.

By early evening the event was behind us and we had some laughs and stopped by my friend Elizabeth’s house and her mother made us dinner. We got to the airport a bit early for our redeye flight in hopes that there’d be space on the plane but we were wrong, it was capacity. Somehow after we were on-board it seemed there would be a seat between Greg and I. But as the flight prepared to depart, they paged a customer who was late for the flight. And as luck would have it Hey Hey Hey he was headed our way. Fat Albert squeezed his obscenely obese frame between us. With his headphones on he shouted out as he shuffled his ass between the arm rests, “Don’t be a Player”. Shortly after 530 AM and after Fat Albert ate 2 bags of Taco Bell we were back hone in Chicago, home of the cold.

And so ended a glorious weekend of decadence in Sin City. We’re already looking forward to next year!

This story could not have happened and our trip to Las Vegas would not have been a reality without the help from the following people:

Tim Connelly AVN President
Frank Majors AVN Editor
Adella Digital Playground
Dominic Cherry Boxx
Tina Tyler Sin City
Janie Liszewski Metro
Daniel Metcalf Wicked
Jason Secrest DV8
Andrew Mun Video Software Distribution
Scott Hoover Jill Kelly Productions
TJ Pure Play Media
Pamela Peaks
Matt Real Doll/Abyss Productions
Max Hardcore
Kevin Starr
Rob Black and Family Extreme Associates
Seymour Butts
Venus Niteclub staff
And all the lovely ladies of porn

See you in 2005- AZ

“DRINKING DECADENCE DESPAIR AND INDULGENCE IN THE LAND OF OZZ”

…………………………………………I woke up to the humidity that is August in Chicago. I knew it was going to be the start of a long day. I walked across the street to the MK ULTRA Office and began to pack my essentials for an overnight visit to what some metalheads wait 364 days of the year for. It was to be Ozzfest 2002. I've attended Ozzfest every year since it's early stages in 1996 when Filter and Prong played w/ Ozzy on the Fourth of July in Indiana –and it was scary then. It began getting scarier every year since. I only missed one year, 2001. 2001 was a bad year for AZ and it was a bad year for me in terms of bands that would be playing that year. Manson was the only act that appealed to me. It wasn't worth braving the mullets to see a 45-minute set of Manson, so I opted to skip. Even now I have no regrets. That year, the guys from Rock Out Censorship, Kenny and Mike stayed at the old MK ULTRA office for a little over a week. Some days they'd drive as far as 8 hours to attend an event and then trek back to my place. From what I've been told, they like the water. But I think they enjoyed the big-budget porn. But that's another story, and now I'm writing about Ozzfest 2002.

]]> That morning my attorney and partner in time made it known to me that she was feeling too ill to go to the festivities that we agreed to attend the night before Ozzfest. SuZn, one of our photographers secured a room at the ski lodge months before. She was taking Scott and got a room for just under $500 for two nights. Our share for Saturday night only was $120. I figured at that price this was the sweet of suites. That's as much as some of the resorts I've stayed in with Susan, not to be confused with SuZn. Nevertheless, my attorney and I took the 22 bus downtown to rent a car. We rented a new Dodge and took it to the grocery store. We stocked up on necessities and I got supplies for tailgating and the pre-Ozzfest party.

"...two bags of charcoal, seventy-five cans of domestic and imported beer, five jars of high-powered salsa, a half-full bottle of aspirin and a whole galaxy of multi-flavored veggie burgers, chicken legs, vegan hot sausage, and Frontera Arbol Hot Sauce, Frontera Red Chipotle Salsa and lime flavored tortilla chips...also a quart of tequila, a quart of Capt. Morgan rum, a bottle of Jim Beam, a pint of vodka, and a dozen mixers...but the only thing that worried me was the Arbol Hot Sauce. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible, or as unforgiving than a man in the depths of an Arbol Hot Sauce binge.”

The most important item other than food and liquids was music. I went through my library and chose the type of music only a couple of post-punk hellraisers could enjoy sans the company of my attorney, who just happens to be of the female persuasion.

The person I chose to take her place was my mailman, who also happens to perform as a guitarist in a Mexican punk rock combo called Mas Loco Amigos. A Latino gentleman who in person has always had me convinced that he was partially born and bred a Samoan. He was a former Mexican wrestler in his native land; a masked champion who was known in his homeland as “The Latin Of Doom,” but he was retired by Santanico in the brutal Mexican Chair Fight in 1997. Rather, he was forced into retirement and works for the postal service under the American name Greg Tovar. The CD’s I chose to bring in the silver Dodge (we christened the car Silver Bullet due to a lot of its power being charged by Coors Light.) was: TYPE O NEGATIVE’S “Slow Deep And Hard” and “Bloody Kisses,” PRONG “Cleansing,” DANZIG, JOEY RAMONE’s “Don’t Worry About Me,” THE RAMONES “Ramonesmania” MINISTRY’S “Greatest Fits” and “Filth Pig” THE CRAMPS single “Let’s Get Fucked Up,” WHITE ZOMBIE “Super Sexy Swinging Singles,” ROB ZOMBIES “The Sinister Urge” and “American Made Music To Strip By,” REVOLTING COCKS “Linger Fickin Good,” MISFITS “Famous Monsters,” MY RUIN, TITO AND TARANTULA, IGGY POP “Beat Em U,p” FILTER “The AMALGAMUT,” The CULT “Pure Cult” and CRANK IT UP “a collection of covers about cars and driving”. The latter was only for the latest TYPE O song, a cover of DEEP PURPLE’s “Highway Star.”

Armed with bottled water we flushed our systems to prepare for the abuse we were about to endure and brought energy drinks to boost our stamina, the A/C was blasting and the music was loud. For the first hour of the drive we didn't speak, we just banged our heads to the heavy tunes. The trip began with a comp of driving tunes and then PRONG. We were somewhere around Six Flags on the edge of the stateline when the tunes began to take hold. It was only one song into the CD, the opening track of "Slow Deep and Hard,” in fact my favorite song of all time: a song about betrayal and psychological retribution, “Unsuccessfully Coping With The Natural Beauty Of Infidelity.” At the end of the tune, Tovar looked over and inquired in his broken English and thick Latino accent, “Was that all one song amigo?” Yes, I replied, a near13 minute opus. He was buying this one Monday, I knew it. Mission accomplished: another one sold. Someday TON would pay me a huge fee for the CD’s I’ve pimped for them since our meeting in 1994.

Driving along the desolate rural highway where the locals who lived far and few between lined up their lawn chairs and beer coolers roadside to wave and laugh at all the tattooed longhairs that journeyed to Alpine Valley for concerts. To them it was as much of an attraction to scoff at us, much as we do to them. It was an equal trade-off of amusement that none of us seemed to mind.

We arrived at the entrance of the lodge and security tried to veer us to the concert entrance. “No fucking way!” Tovar screamed out in the clearest English I’ve ever witnessed him speak. Yes, I agreed, no damn way on this earth would we enter a lot full of Christian rockers who were all on hand to see Creed, a band we all loathe, who just happened to be at the venue that night. We gave them our press credentials, MK ULTRA would be our way into the lodge, a place we thought and hoped would be luxury in midst of the Land of Oz. But the true horror we were about to behold. “Ye Fucking gods!” The Ozzheads had already transformed the hotel and it’s lot into bad beer and tattoo mullet heaven. Oh, we were going to get killed I thought for sure. I don’t know if it was my pre burn tan or Greg’s Central American skin tone but we had heard the word “Nigger!” being screamed throughout the halls as we wheeled our massive cooler and food items up to room 202 where our saviors, SuZn and Scott were starving and already toasted from alcohol and drug abuse. The room smelled of weed and we kept hearing that dreaded “N-word” echoing thru the halls. Maybe it was paranoia, mullet fear or mullet envy, they were everywhere. But we were safe inside. Scott asked if we had the grill. They were both starved and ravaged fiends with the motherfucking munchies.

“Suddenly there was a terrible roar all around us and the resort halls were full of what looked like 80’s mullets, all swooping and screeching and swarming around the door ...

Greg opened the door and shadows fluttered across his face. The reflection of mullets swirled within his eyes. I pushed in close to one eyeball …SCREECHING SWIRLING MULLET-LIKE SHAPES!

“AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!” He screamed. I knew he was in dire need of his first beer. I cracked him open a cold one. Scott’s voice was screaming: “Holy Jesus! What are these goddamn animals?” I asked him, “What are you yelling about?”

He replied, “Nevermind, it's your turn to drink.” He mixed me a very strong drink but there was already too much blood in my alcohol system. “No point mentioning these mullets.” I thought. “The poor bastard will see them soon enough.” We decided it would be best to leave the room door open to stay alert of the beasts. Besides, nobody brought a portable stereo and we could listen to all of the rooms playing different Ozzy records in unison. It would be a soundtrack to the savage racist members who took over this lodge, and if it was a resort it was certainly a reflection of its inhabitants. Certainly not worth the price paid. The wallpaper was peeling, there was NO ICE in the ice machines and the cost was easy to explain. It was a way to cover the damages and repair needed the next day after the majority of the celebrants tore the Inn to bits. It was their insurance. The lounge was the saddest part of the entire estate.

8/14-8/15/2002

So here we were at the Alpine Valley Resort. SuZn fired up the camera and we approached the outer perimeter of the lodge, viewing the balconies of many a shirtless metalhead. These were die-hard Ozzy fans. A lot of them drove ½ day to stay at this broken-down lodge. They had a lot more booze running through them by 7PM than I could hope for by the time I would retire around 4AM. But that’s another story. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in all of my years of documenting the rituals of this breed, it is that once the crank is running through their systems and they’ve pumped their bellies full of Budweiser and Miller High Life they love nothing more than the roving eye of anyone with a video camera. Granted they’d likely “kick our asses” if they could remember spilling their guts to us, but that has never been the case. We wasted no time in starting our docudrama, which wasn’t slated for filming till the lot opened the next morning. Tovar had gotten quiet. I think the former champion was afraid, but after we poured several beer bongs of Amstel into the man, he got his groove on. Between visits into the trenches that the other guests used as their rooms, we’d occasionally step into the lounge. It was full of it’s own lizards. Hell no, we didn’t need the parking lot; we had all we needed right here in the fucking hotel drinking facility. All we had to do was get them out of the lounge and into their own environment. And that didn’t take much. Just as we came prepared so did the metal fans. Why did they even bother with the overpriced drinks in the lounge? Every room was stocked. Bud boxes were stacked against the wall each one on top of another as if to create some sort of noise reduction. Things began to get a little vague and blurry as the midnight hour approached. For some reason against my wishes SuZn felt the need to keep taping my Latin counterpart and I. Though I haven’t seen the dammed testament as of this writing, I imagine there are over a dozen instances where you see and hear me say something like, “STOP FUCKING RECORDING ME!” In fact, truth be told she was asked not to record us but the shirtless wonders and their female prey in their bizarre mating rituals and bellows of incoherent banter. At some point latter in the wee early hours of the AM, a lost and sobbing girl who appeared to have not eaten in recent memory was running down the hallways tossing beer into peoples arms. She was coming in the right direction and before long had re-stocked room 202 with loads of free alcohol. She was indeed the bee’s knees for a hotel full of booze-soaked party-hardy metalheads. I even walked to her room where a young child aged 13 was asleep on the bed oblivious to the decadence and destruction going on around his adolescent existence, and good for him and his well being. So I aided her in pilfering the last of the booze from her room and transferred it to 202, where it rightfully belonged. Seems she was upset with her date that had abandoned her for another girl from another town, and was in another room. This was her way of paying him back and my hosts were more than happy to oblige. In fact, so were the others in the rooms around us. Such was the revenge that in my mind, I’m sure some hung-over fellow was wandering the puking lot the next day trying to retrieve his bounty, knowing that for his sins he would be paying $6.50 a cup for warm non-light draught beer. After we restocked our massive cooler with the catch of the day and had a few shots and toasts we retired. The next thing I know is I missed the wake up call, and at 745AM was back up and in the shower. No sooner was I done than Greg got rinsed off and we were pulling our newly refilled cooler and grub out to the Silver Bullet. On the way we witnessed the janitors with brooms and dustpans sweeping up the yard of shattered windows and broken bottles. Sad as it is that these people are who they are, they can’t handle a good time without doing this type of thing. Thus, resulting in inflated room rates for hardworking journalists such as us. A song by NASHVILE PUSSY comes to mind, and that song is; “You Give Drugs A Bad Name.”

8:15AM We enter the lot and pull into VIP parking. There’d be no long lines or no long walk for us across the lot. We were in the front row and within minutes had the grill lit and were well on our way to beer for breakfast, beer for lunch and beer for dinner. We used the food as a sidecar or chaser. It helped soak up the mass of liquids swimming around in our stomachs. The nice thing was we didn’t even have to re-start the buzz, we still felt the effects of the indulgence of the prior festivities. Hell, there wasn’t even time for a hangover. As soon as Tovar figured out how to use the camera we were taping the bad news was about to hit us: low battery. SuZn in her “ultimate wisdom” and all of her random taping of us just roaming the lot and sitting around the room had doomed our mission. We had very little to go on and now I’d have to contact the Copyright people in DC and change the title of our film in the works. My attorney and Scott the ticket scalper showed up at noon. Then Scott and SuZn showed up. I looked at Greg and he was confused. Scott met Scott and Greg met Scott and Scott and SuZn and Susan. My Mexican friend thought for sure at this point I put something in his drink –so he had nothing to do but drink more. He had that look like if I was going to fuck with his mind he might as well get a head start on me. In the meantime we made friends with a few of the security guards and they kept us out of trouble and the trouble away from us. Besides, nobody could cross the line from paying patrons to VIP access. Everyone partook in my spicy chicken recipe with the exception of Susan who refuses to eat anything that is on a bone. Then it was off to Ozzfest where it was all downhill until Zombie came onstage at 645. But for the first time in history I didn’t leave after the little Ozzy movie. I figured with all the poor old guy had been through recently with his wife fighting cancer the least I could do was stay in my seat in the center of row 10 and give him some respect. But to this date it is the first time I’ve ever seen Ozzy for more than 5 minutes.

This is the end. I hope you get the picture because it may not have come out on film.

Part Time Patriots And True Independence

I've been putting off writing this editorial because I'm not sure how to express the way I feel without rubbing the readers the wrong way. Normally I don't care about whom finds my rants abrasive, but this time I'm dealing with a much more sensitive subject. And for me to react that way, well, it must be something that is buried deep under my skin. It’s a response to the events of 9/11. I'm sure it will soon be a government holiday and not one that Hallmark can capitalize on. However it seems that a lot of Americans are capitalizing on the benefits of the American Dream, our freedoms, and pursuit of happiness. For example the sudden increase in the sale of American Flags.

]]> I was in New York City for the first time in my life on Labor Day Weekend. I had a great time. Stayed in the trendy Soho Grand, ate at some of the finest restaurants in Soho and the Village, and drank at the rowdiest biker bars in Manhattan. I found the people very friendly and fun, unlike the attitude of the uptight Midwesterners who instead of seizing the day, wait for opportunity to seize them.

A week after I got back to Chicago, ‘shit hit the fan’ I couldn't believe what I was seeing as the development unraveled right before my eyes and the eyes of the world of television. The city that seduced me just one week before was literally falling to pieces.

All this time my intentions were to write about keeping my memories of New York pleasant. Remembering what I indulged in rather than the rubble of what is now known as "ground zero". But something else was happening that sickened me. At first it seemed like a great and overdue idea, expressing patriotism. Everywhere I looked was the American Flag, Old Glory, the Red White and Blue symbol of our freedom, pride, and independence. Suddenly what began to trouble me had all dawned upon me.

Just prior to my trip to NYC I had moved from Humboldt Park to Lincoln Park. For those unfamiliar with Humboldt Park it is the Puerto Rican neighborhood of Chicago. When you enter and exit Humboldt Park on West Division Street the asphalt is sprawled over by huge steel Puerto Rican flags. The residents are 24-7 boasting PR pride by displaying flags on their cars, in their windows and on their persons. The people are very proud of their heritage and independence. Yet just over the past 2 decades I have witnessed as we have taken the Pledge of Allegiance out of our schools, and even gone as far as to make it lawful to burn the American Flag. The Freedom of Speech is constantly being challenged in our legal system, and we feed the world as we let our own people starve and suffer. Yet after 9/11 it almost seems that everyone is suddenly hit with a wave of feeling patriotic. And finally buying American Flags and singing the Star Spangled Banner. It wasn't that long ago that our country was going as far as to remove the National Anthem from public events. What’s wrong America???? Prior to the events of 9/11 I barely recall seeing my fellow Americans boasting the pride they now so proudly seem to display.

I see people jumping on the bandwagon as usual. Now much like the Gap ads that say "Everyone in leather", and abracadabra a bunch of main streamers go about trying to look cool in a fashion not too long ago only sported by bikers, rockers, and gays. (I recently attended an event and there were old women trying to recapture the style that escaped them by dressing in sagging leather pants. There is something very wrong with that picture.) It has recently become trendy to be proud to be an American. I see red white and blue sweaters and T-shirts where before it was fucking fleece and any other cookie cutter fashion of the moment that some magazine told you that it’s "the in thing". These people should have always felt the pride to be living in America, to sport Stars and Stripes. FOREVER. But over the last 2 decades you made the flag nothing more than a piece of history symbolizing, nothing. But now, be a patriot, it’s "the in thing to do".

Two weeks ago I flew to Las Vegas for the first time. They thanked us for being brave for flying, for being tourists and called us heroes. The real heroes were the firemen who went into the Trade Towers to save lives and attempt to preserve the structure. In Las Vegas tourism has suffered. Hundreds if not thousands of people are unemployed due to the domino effect of 9/11. It’s in the papers and on the news. Yet they want to call my girlfriend and me heroes. I don't think so.

Independence. What does it mean to you? Let’s examine the word. Independent. Being an individual. But those who dare to march to the beat of a different drummer are continuously and repeatedly singled out and outcast. I declare my independence everyday by letting my freak flag fly, but not a day passes that some mainstream trendroid judges my book by its cover. Certain folks say that my move uptown is an improvement. Don't get me wrong, I like living in Lincoln Park, but it doesn't make me a better person than I was when I lived in Humboldt. I'm the same guy. I'm an American, and in many ways a freedom fighter. I have been for 2 decades now, fighting for the freedom of expression. I don't have to wear red white and blue to be a patriot, neither does Jello Biafra, or Angsto The Clown, and neither do you. It’s in your heart and mind. If you do it to show your support keep it up, I respect that. Chances are you've been a patriot all along. But if you're just another sheep, following the herd, well, you're no different than those who stand by and watch innocent
people get victimized while doing nothing about it. Shame on you for not being a good American all along. So as far as I'm concerned for those people it is too late. (I wholeheartedly doubt that anybody who is looking at MK ULTRA Online fits those criteria)

I just want to say one thing in closing. I believe that if the Republicans didn't steal the election we might not be in this current situation. Now he’s used it as a way to, legally, look at our e-mail, our mail, tap our phones, and literally invade our privacy. (Not like they haven't been doing it all along.) Maybe you say, I don't have anything to hide. Fine, feel that way, but watch what will happen to a free society when they want to control what we read, see, think and hear. Hell, there is already a monopoly on the media.

A truly free society would neither fear nor suppress the freedom of expression. Nor would they attempt to control it. Think for yourself. Don't let your government do that for you.

AZ
An independent and proud American

What The Fuck Are You Looking At Asshole?

Commentary On Being a Longhair in 21st Century America by Alex Zander

As a society we've made a lot of progress over the past century in achieving equal rights for all members of our society. It's not perfect yet, but women, ethnic minorities, homosexuals, members of various religions and most other groups that once had no end of trouble "fitting in" are now allowed to live and work peacefully almost everywhere. Every day we get a little closer to our ideal of true equality for everyone.

But there is still one form of discrimination that has yet to be addressed. In fact, in many circles it is consciously condoned and actively encouraged. Many people who would be appalled at the idea of shouting insults at others regarding race, physical handicaps, perceived sexual orientation or any other difference from the "norm" have no inhibitions whatsoever when it comes to making their feelings known about what society deems as, "...FREAKS!"

]]> Whether it's tattooing or piercing the body, wearing unusual hairstyles, or any other form of physical modification or adornment that tends to raise eyebrows (at best) or incite violent language and attacks against the individual (at worst), "freaks" have lived with this discrimination long enough.

- We are denied jobs for which we are more than qualified.

- We have been subject to harassment in schools. Students have been branded a "distraction" and expelled because they refused to alter their appearance to match that of the rest of the student body. Teens endure unending daily torment from their classmates, while the adults ignore the abuse -- or even participate.

- We are refused service in some establishments, and are unjustly targeted by security officers in others solely on the basis of our appearance -- we look so weird, we must be troublemakers, right?

- We are subjected to general harassment from the public. We can't go anywhere without being confronted by complete strangers, demanding (politely or not) that we provide some justification for ourselves that they can understand. Our neighbors peer suspiciously from their windows at us, and lock their doors when we pass.

- On television and in the movies, we are consistently portrayed as villains, mentally disturbed, or "joke" characters. Is it wrong to subject any other group of people -- other than practicing criminals -- to this treatment? Yes. Is it any less wrong to treat the "Freaks" in this manner? No. Most people would say this is a different kind of discrimination -- since we choose to drastically alter our appearance, knowing the consequences, we should just accept the harassment and live with the stigma of being different. This is untrue, unfair, and a violation of our country's Constitution.

I happen to be a white heterosexual male. But this does not mean that I am not discriminated against the way that minorities and homosexuals are. I do not use what is considered my gender and race to my advantage and do not discriminate against anyone. I have been a victim of what is spelled out as a Potential Target for Discrimination. I have been physically violated, attacked and put in the hospital by people who do not agree with my appearance. Yet there is no classification for an individual who chooses to dress the way I do and wear my hair in a style that longer than the status quo. I have been told by Police it is what happens to people who come around to their parts of the woods looking like I do. I was told by my father, a law officer, politician and former Green Beret that people have no control over what race they are born, but one does have control as to what they look like. I feel this is an unfair as well as ignorant statement.

I do not wear my heart on my sleeve nor do I feel that I am a martyr of sorts. However, I do try my best to do my part as an activist to make society aware of such injustices.

Freedom of Expression is in fact supposedly protected by the Freedom of Speech, which is in turn supposedly protected by the First Amendment.

There is a lot in the news these days about "racial profiling", a practice that is in every sense a violation of our personal freedoms. An example of "racial profiling" is when the police will pull over a "minority" because there is something "suspicious" about a person of another race happening to be inside a predominately "white" neighborhood. The officer will then proceed to search the person, his/her vehicle and run a police check to see if there happens to be any outstanding warrants on the individual as well as their passengers.

Hands down, this is a crime and a direct violation of our personal freedoms. Yet, there is no fuss over what can safely be coined as "image profiling". The "white mainstream" and the authorities, or powers that be are no more kind to those of us who do not subscribe to their idea of what descent white folk think it's acceptable to look like.

Following are two examples:
It's a hot and sunny Sunday afternoon and my friend and I are driving an older model Chevy. My girlfriend is in the backseat. We are each wearing our trademark black attire. We all have long hair because it is our choice to wear our hair longer than the US Army standard. This should not be strange being neither of us are in the service. We are driving into downtown Columbus Ohio, which is where we all lived at that time. There is no cigarette smoking and nobody is drinking even a soda. I make a left turn and the city police signal me to pull over. Like any law-abiding citizen I pull off to the side. He instructs me over the speaker to stay in the car and place my hands on the wheel. He then walks to the cars and instructs me to show my drivers license and registration. I kindly oblige. I ask him if I didn't anything wrong and he instructs me not to talk. He proceeds to run my plates and my license and returns to inquire where I am going. I reply "Home". He asks where home is and I tell him the address and he acknowledges it matches the info on my ID. He then feels the need to ask me where I'm coming from. I answer and for some reason he asks why I was where I was. I answer in fact that I had organized a flood relief benefit concert for a town that was struck by disaster. I asked him again if I did anything wrong and he replied in the negative and told me I could move along. Without any explanation of why we were pulled over he just wasted his time as well as my own. Needless to say I was more than just a little troubled by this incident. So I phoned my father who just so happened to be a Sheriff in another part of the state. I explained the situation, and he informed me that two guys with longer hair riding in a car, is considered by the Police, "suspicious behavior". All I could ponder to myself was, "What year is it? It's not the 60's, longhair is everywhere".

Example two: Two of my friends and I were making a long drive home across 3 states after picking up a friend who was coming for an extended stay. It was about 10 and a very dark summer night. As we crossed the border into Ohio the car broke down. Oddly we were stranded in the exact county where my father was the Sheriff. As we looked under the hood in an attempt to diagnose the problem a patrol car passed by. And again, and yet again there was a third pass in less than and hours time. I finally opted to phone home for help. My father, the Sheriff sent the patrol car that had been passing us while we were stranded roadside. The officer was not only an employee of the county and my father, but a lifelong friend of the family. I literally knew this guy from the time I was 5 yrs old. Obviously he hadn't recognized me. When we inquired why he didn't stop and attempt to assist us, his answer was simply, " I only saw 3 guys w/ long hair, I wasn't helping."

Why isn't there a special interest or a special interest group that defend the rights of a single, white, heterosexual male who chooses to wear his hair longer than most. There are anti-discrimination laws that protect every other "minority group" but those of us who exercise a freedom of expression called freedom of choice. And I feel it's about time there is. I do not wear my heart on my sleeve nor do I feel that I am a martyr of sorts. However, I do try my best to do my part as an activist to make society aware of such injustices.

I am proud to write about why I am a member of the Green Party. This is my political affiliation and I joined them because of their beliefs that reflect many of my own. Their platforms include, equal rights for all persons no matter their sexuality, race, religion or birthplace and justice not vengeance.

The organization endorses Nonviolence and effective alternatives to our current patterns of violence at all levels from the family and the street to nations and the world. They encourage ways to constructively use nonviolent methods to oppose practices and policies with which we disagree and in the process reduce the atmosphere of selfishness that is itself a source of violence. . We encourage people to care about persons outside their own group. We promote the building of respectful, positive and responsible relationships across the lines of gender and other divisions.

The Green Party seems to be the only hope of correcting such hateful and bigoted attitudes toward personal freedoms. And whether or not anything is ever done to correct these heinous crimes against society, I shall forever continue to be a pain in the ass to those who are threatened by my freedom by proudly letting my freak flag fly.