It’s late August. You know how I can tell? People are starting to lose their minds about pumpkin spice lattes. Like bald eagles in heat they screech: “PUMPKIN SPICE LATTES ARE COMING! PUMPKIN SPICE LATTES!”
At some point in the past five years this artificial coffee flavoring surpassed Thanksgiving and the leaves changing as the apex of the Fall season. The wonder of nature? The warmth of your family? Fuck that shit, we can make hot liquid taste like a gourd!
But I kid the industrial beverage complex and its tight stranglehold on our emotions. Living in Florida I of course welcome the arrival of PSLs, as they provide the only concrete evidence that the season is actually changing. It’s a blistering ninety-five degrees here year round. Oh sure, for a couple days in February it pretends to be cold, but generally there’s nothing in FL to counter the belief that pool season is eternal.
That can really gum up your melon, the endless summer. How can it be Columbus Day? I’m still wearing shorts and flip flops and this Orlando Magic jersey from 1996. Thankfully, the pumpkin spice latte sends important signals to my brain, saying, “Christmas is coming. You’re gonna be broke again!”
This is a good place to note that Pumpkin Spice Latte would be the perfect name for a celebrity baby. Pumpkin Spice Latte Kardashian. Pumpkin Spice Latte Theron. Pumpkin Spice Latte Ciccone Penn Ritchie Kabbalah.
How’m I doin’ on time? I can stretch this out for another five minutes.
Jerry Only and Glenn Danzig in August of 1981. Photographer unknown.
Central District of California Judge Gary Klausner threw out Glenn Danzig’s lawsuit against former band mate Jerry Only on August 6th, stating that Danzig failed to specify which exact terms of a 1994 legal agreement between the Misfits Only violated when the latter began merchandising Misfits emblems under his own name in the early 2000s.
Noting that the ’94 agreement does not “address any obligation regarding trademark registration or negotiations with individual retail merchandisers as to licensing,” Klausner stated “the Court finds no alleged facts that constitute a breach of the merchandising provision…the [original paper] contemplates that [Only] has a non-exclusive right to merchandise…and otherwise exploit the designs…[and to] to retain 100% of earnings from such exploitation…the Court also finds no other terms that govern the parties’ conduct as it pertains to trademarking and licensing.”
Indeed, the original settlement clearly states “the parties shall be co-owners of [the Misfits name] and all logo(s)” with no obligation to communicate with each other concerning merchandising deals, but it also says “each party shall retain exclusive ownership of any artwork created by that party.” That’s where Danzig lost this round, it seems: by not emphasizing that he created many of the designs Only’s been licensing. Danzig’s suit merely says it’s his era of the band that’s most closely associated with that stuff. Had he stated, “I created the ‘Fiend Skull,’ I created the ‘Horror Business’ cover and all the other classic Misfits artwork Jerry’s currently selling on his website,” things would probably be moving forward.
Is Danzig afraid of coming right out and claiming to be the hand behind the Fiend Skull, a.k.a. the Crimson Ghost, now that the Crimson Ghost film serial he took it from is owned by Paramount? I’ve mentioned this previously, but Paramount is well aware of that skull’s value. They wanted an astronomical fee to let me print a still from the serial in my book. I imagine this is why every legal paper refers to the logo as the “Fiend Skull.” They’re dancing around the fact they appropriated their most beloved icon from a property that’s now in the hands of a billion dollar company.
Not that Paramount would necessarily bother going after the Misfits; they didn’t own TCG when the band began using that skull, the band has been using it so long w/o repercussion, and how much in damages could they really get? Nothing compared to their weekly budgets, surely.
It’s unclear what will happen from here. Danzig certainly receives his due for making all those album covers Only is putting on t-shirts. However, Glenn did wait a very long time to flex his legal muscles, and although he made some fine points in his lawsuit they weren’t fine enough. To be honest, I’m more concerned about his next album, the covers album. I want that yaz to drop already. My fingers are crossed that it’s close to release and Glenn will hit the road behind it on a “Tryin’ to Pay My Lawyers” tour.
- I have no affinity for the first Grease but my house mates were watching this last night and I have an iron clad rule about always stopping to view anything with Eddie Deezen
- Michelle Pfeiffer often resembles Deborah Harry in her role as Stephanie, which is probably no accident; according to Grease 2 lore (now there’s a phrase) the filmmakers approached Harry for the female lead but Deb felt she was too old to be playing a high schooler (never mind that everyone in Grease 2 is too old to be playing a high schooler save Pamela Adlon)
- if we’re to believe this movie, the sport of bowling is an alien concept to the British and they need guidebooks just to have conversations about it
- if we’re to believe this movie, Adrian Zmed is a fucking great singer
- Eddie Deezen is only in Grease 2 for about three minutes and does not seem to be present at the final graduation scene (spoiler alert); this must mean Deezen’s character flunked out or died…we’ll never know for sure, though, because plans for Greases 3 & 4 were scrapped after this one imploded at the box office
- can you imagine the suffocating reheated hell of a Grease 4?
- it’s incredible how absolutely bland the music is in this high profile major studio musical; Michelle Pfeiffer’s big number is called “Cool Rider,” about how she wants to date a cool rider (of motorcycles), making “Greased Lightning” from the first movie look like Chaucer
- Tab Hunter is in this; yes, they make him sing, but he emerges unscathed
- of course the action climaxes in a motorcycle melée/pie fight that breaks out in the middle of a homecoming luau, but since this is Grease 2 the entire set piece is less exciting than a trip to Big Lots
- if you’re in the market to make ninety minutes feel like five hours, run don’t walk to the nearest copy of Grease 2
- if you’re in the market for gratuitous Deezen, take your ass to War Games
The relief map of Hawaii you see on my hand in this photo comes courtesy of a Family Dollar brand frosted toaster pastry (a.k.a. a fake Pop Tart). During this morning’s toasting procedure, the pastry cracked, allowing a few globs of s’more-flavored filling to leak out. Said globs came in contact with my palm as I attempted to remove the pastry from my non-industrial toasting device, searing me like a branding iron.
Coincidentally, just yesterday I was joking on Twitter about the possible radioactivity of Family Dollar brand frosted toaster pastries. Oh, how carefree I was in my mirth, unaware of the shocking and dangerous truths at hand.
I’ve been toasting edibles for over thirty years and nothing like this has ever happened before. Family Dollar, why do you put lava in your frosted toaster pastries? More importantly, why don’t you list the lava in the ingredients? I would have never purchased your off-brand Pop Tarts had I known they contain molten rock.
Yes, I’ve already picked myself up a nice pair of toaster-friendly wooden tongs. Thank you for your concern.
A: Thirty-Nine Years Of Short-Term Memory Loss by Tom Davis; yes, he jumps all over the place and spends too much time talking about the Grateful Dead, but it’s still an entertaining read that offers many a colorful Al Franken story (if you can’t handle Al Franken at his worst you don’t deserve him at his best). All I Did Was Ask by Terry Gross; she mines gold out of Albert Brooks and Grandmaster Flash, manages to handle the entitled jackassery of Gene Simmons with grace. Flipped through Growing Up Brady by Barry Williams; apparently he had great difficulty straightening his hair as a youth. Flipped through Titanic: The Ship That Never Sank? by Robin Gardiner; reads like incomplete text book translated from a few different languages.
Just started Carrie Fisher’s Wishful Drinking; so far so candid and engaging.
- Mandatory Fun’s cover is funny, but not as funny as the fact we could go to war with North Korea over that James Franco movie
- my issues with late period Yank: he doesn’t scream as much as he used to, and rarely do any songs break mid-tempo (even the polka medley here speeds too safely); in Al’s defense, he’s creeping up on 55, and he went plenty nutso on his older albums
- I want to say the Lorde parody “Foil” should be longer to milk more out of the subject twist, but laborious college fight send-up “Sports Song” proves brevity is the soul of wit
- “Word Crimes” is disappointing because Al spends more time just shitting on the grammatically ignorant instead of trying to educate them; it’s very “get off my lawn,” but at least his heart’s in the right place
- Mandatory Fun’s polka medley may be caught in second gear but it’s also plenty fun, as most of his medleys prove to be
- while I appreciate Al taking the piss out of Frank Black on his Pixies style parody “First World Problems,” the song itself is nowhere near as clever as the first world problem rap that mush-mouthed teen posted to YouTube a few years ago; this could be because mush-mouthed teen legit feels the struggle and Al is (generationally?) removed from that kinda thing
- a few of Mandatory Fun’s originals lean alt country, which makes one wonder what a non-weird Yank album would be like at this point; maybe like Wilco, with more references to boogers and socket wrenches?
- “Weird Al” has some major cajones calling out other people for being tacky (“Tacky”) when you consider the fact he’s worn nothing but Hawaiian shirts for his entire career
- overall, Mandatory Fun is limp; not one song is on par with classic Yank, and the album’s closing ballad “Jackson Park Express” (a tale of love and miscommunication on public transit) could be the least engaging song Al’s ever done; of course, it’s all lightyears better than whatever Dr. Elmo’s doing right now, and what do you want from a guy twenty-six years after “Stuck In A Closet With Vanna White?”
- this would be a great place to post a link to the interview I did with “Weird Al” in 2011 where he clears up that rumor about getting punched by Billy Joel’s wife; alas, evil forces have taken it offline
- yes, I am bragging that I interviewed “Weird Al”; career lulls aside, he’s still “Weird Al,” American comedy god, hero of my youth, the Gozer of parody
Orlando Weekly let me go last week. They said it was a budget thing, but to be honest with you I think they were sick of me pitching Delta Burke stories every day. Hey, it’s not my fault the world’s most beautiful and talented actress hails from this corner of the universe. It’s like Plato said: you can either get on the Delta Burke train or you can get flattened by it.
Stay tuned for the soft launch of my new periodical, Burke Beat, where you’ll finally learn “the real deal” about Delta’s experiences overseas filming Where The Hell’s That Gold?