The Agenda

by Saruman the White, Chief Scientific Policy Advisor to President Bush

[This article first appeared in The Agenda #14, January 2006]

Honestly, you people with your ridiculous “science.” Bah! When I bring agony and ruin upon your villages with the power of the One Ring, will the pathetic explanations of those blasphemous witch doctors you call “scientists” ease the pain of your destruction? I ask you, will their “logical conclusions” based on “data” and “experiments” drown out your screams? Only so foolhardy a race as men could build a society based on “scientific methods” and “empirical evidence.” Such nonsense! Istari magic and the visions of my palantir—those are the foundations of a functioning society.

Point: My Band, The Jacobins, Slays with Unparalleled Heaviosity

by John Taraborelli

A lot of rock bands are into the music for the fame, the money, the women, the piles of free, pharmaceutical-grade coke—and I can understand that mentality. Those are the kinds of things they care about, but not the Jacobins; we care about one thing above all: melting your face.

Three Ways To Lose An Argument
by John Taraborelli

[This article appeared in The Agenda #14, January 2006]

There are three all-purpose arguments in American public discourse that are so insipid, so hackneyed, so insulting to our intelligence, that anyone who invokes them cannot help but forsake their credibility. They are: the Nazi Argument, the Terrorist Argument, and the Founding Fathers Argument.

[This article first appeared in The Agenda #14, January 2006]

Point: Bruce Springsteen: The Emo Meatloaf

by Eric Smith

With the recent release of a Bruce Springsteen concert DVD shedding new light on his dim early ‘70s output and allowing hordes of rock scribes to wax ad infinitum on the staggering Boss-ness of the Boss, please allow me—a non-fan—to speak from my heart as a non-believer of the highest order while imparting some much-needed sense into the thick skulls of you poor, poor, sad fucks.

by John Taraborelli

My fellow board members, I come before you today to silence the growing voices of concern, speculation, rumor and innuendo. There has been much controversy surrounding our fine institution as of late and much ballyhoo has been made of the sudden, indefinite closure of the Dr. Timothy Leary Memorial XXXtreme Monkey and Primate Conservancy, or as it is affectionately known, the monkey zoo. The dearth of concrete information coming out from behind our walls has given rise to a growing tide of gossip and criticism-some of it baseless, some of it startlingly close to home. Today I intend to go on record with the most current and frank assessment of our situation.

[Note: This letter was originally published in The Agenda #15]

Dear President Bush,

So I guess it's official, Samuel Alito is
your man for the Supreme Court. OK. That's your prerogative, I guess. I mean, I
don't want to tell you how to do your job here, but I just thought ... well, I
don't know, I kind of thought that maybe after the whole Harriet Miers thing
didn't work out that you would ... I don't know, kind of look my way. I'm not
saying that I necessarily expected the nomination per se, but I just
feel like it would have been nice to know that you at least gave it some
thought, that maybe I stood a chance. The least you could have done was give me
a little heads up so I didn't have to find out from the media. That's not too
much to ask, is it?

by
John Taraborelli

What
is this? Look at this. What is this? A hot dog. Ah yes, a hot dog. Maybe you want it; maybe you don't. What difference does
it make? What does this hot dog represent? A meal? Maybe. A snack? Perhaps. An opportunity? Yes. You're not going to be
swayed away from eating this delicious hot dog-by what? By a bullshit, middle
class morality that tells you what to eat and when?

The U.S. and Iran Show Their True Colors—And They're Not a Rainbow

by John Taraborelli

[Note: This article first appeared in The Agenda #15]

As tensions mount over Iran's nuclear ambitions and Sudan's President
Bashir is denied his seat at the African Union's rotating presidency due to his
regime's perceived complicity in the genocide in Darfur, it is reassuring to to
see a brief moment of unity in increasingly unstable international relations.
On January 26, the New York Times
reported on a vote in the United Nations that demonstrated rare solidarity
between the United States, Iran, Sudan,
Zimbabwe and Cuba. Perhaps
this is a sign that all hope is not lost for peace and cooperation between
these disparate and often contentious nations.

Wu-Tang Clan at Lupo’s

by John Taraborelli

Wu-Tang Clan’s utter failure to put on something at least resembling a good show
when their “reunion tour” rolled into town is completely incomprehensible.

For all the credit they get as musical innovators, Wu-Tang’s deepest and most indelible impact on hip-hop is likely their business sense. As the gravitational center of the music has shifted from New York, and slick, club-oriented music has become dominant, the gritty, minimalist beats and cerebral, paranoid lyrics of the quintessentially New York Clan are no longer the pervasive influence they once were. However, the hip-hop industry as it stands today bears the unmistakable stamp of the RZA’s master plan. The “W” became hip-hop culture’s first real brand name, as innumerable solo projects, vanity projects, a clothing line, several movies, and even deodorant endorsements eventually stood beneath the Iron Flag. For better or worse, the Wu established the hip-hop-artist-as-entrepreneur model that is the industry standard today. It is for this reason that their utter failure to put on something at least resembling a good show when their “reunion tour” rolled into town is completely incomprehensible.

City Council Protests, Is Dissolved

by John Taraborelli

Dresden Calling: 10th Anniversary Deluxe Edition (The Liner Notes)

Before There Was Iraq, There Was Rock. Before There Was Gitmo, There Was Guitar. And Before He Was the Secretary of Defense, Donald Rumsfeld Was the Secretary of Rocking Your Fucking World!

by John Taraborelli