*WARNING. EXTREMELY UN-TWEE CONTENT. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NO APPRECIATION FOR RAUNCHY PERFORMANCE ART.* currently in the metropolis of san francisco, california, there exists a young fat man who likes to perform as elvis. at his first show he took a dump on stage and threw it at the audience. he was not invited back to the venue, and the bay area's favorite new performance artist was born. six months or so later, eXtreme elvis has a following and a philosophy. he's even a bit heavy-handed. one doesn't expect to be preached to by a naked fat elvis impersonator with a penchant for publicly consuming his own piss. but one would be wrong. on saturday eXtreme elvis performed a show. a headliner for at least 4 months, his supporting act was, in the words of my friend, "one long anecdote for art school students. and it's the same anecdote-- i saw a naked handicapped man." their "set" consisted of one screechy aural assault that lasted an interminable 55 minutes. the band was composed of at least 10 members in various states of undress, fronted by a naked man in a wheelchair. all in all, profoundly pretentious and uninteresting. but sinister readers might be interested to know that their keyboardist was a mod. while the naked middle -aged female singers groped the naked frontman, while tits swung and cock was stroked, the young mod keyboardist carried on as if he was playing with a kraftwerk cover band. ah, the prescribed disaffection of hipsterdom. then, at about midnight, came mr. eXtreme. upon entering the stage, he immediately pulled down his pants and pissed in a pint glass. the contents were consumed by his keyboardist. after making out with a guitarist, he tore off all his clothes and began grabbing audience members. my face did not escape his grasp. topically, he was not performing elvis songs this night. instead, he sang a nice song about not being afraid of the terrorists, about not being afraid to drive on our bridges, and about getting over fear. its chorus was "reality," and it was a nice enough song. he passed out joints. soon he was rolling his naked body all over the club floor. people poured their beers over him, so he became absolutely filthy. he writhed around on the ground, his huge naked body covered in wet grime, grabbing the legs, ankles and crotches of onlookers. people ran. i hugged the wall, inches from his grasp. suddenly a naked woman crouched over him. with his microphone-less hand he reached up and pulled out her tampon. while singing "reality" he insterted the device in his own anal crevice. people screamed. he tried to stand up. after a few mis-tries, and a rousing finale of drums, sax and guitar riff, he stumbled out of the club, where he slowly dressed himself out on the firescape in the cold frisco night. and i drove home, back over the doomed bridge, thinking that seeing a man shove a used tampon up his own bunghole was the most effective anti-war protest i've seen yet. these are strange days, and sometimes comfort must come from the most unexpected places. god help us all. --kyla __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Find a job, post your resume. http://careers.yahoo.com +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+