Features
Tours de Farce: Identity Crisis
That was the query that arrived in our email last week amid the questions about The Rolling Stones and the observations about the routing for Morbid Angel. Is it for real? Is it accurate? Correct? Is it true?
The short answer would be “yes, it’s all true,” for we’d hardly be a messenger of information and detail if it was anything but. In fact, you can rest assured that everything published on this Web site, from the schedules for Evanescence and Slaves On Dope, to the cold, inescapable conclusion that three-legged trolls are responsible for the upcoming Edwin McCain tour, is the sincere, bona fide truth, filled with exactness and specifics that you can take to the bank.
After all, we are the media.
And as the media, we are dedicated to providing you with the news you need to know, whether it’s a listing of bands supporting Kittie on their fall tour (40 Below Summer and Motograter), or the 800-pound promoter who shows his love for humanity by booking shows with 50 Cent, Dan Bern and The Nadas, we deal with nothing but facts and datum. The news may not be pretty. Heck, truth hardly ever is, but it’s one hundred percent gospel. After all, we are the media.
Of course, sometimes the truth is strong medicine that needs a bit of sugar to slide down the esophagus and into the tummy until its digested by internal fluids so caustic that it would remove the grit and grime from one’s windshield. That’s why we publish concert schedules, like the listings for Ladysmith Black Mambazo and Karla Bonoff. That way, handling the truth, such as recent stories concerning Sasquatch working as a roadie on the Indigo Girls tour, seems much more believable when framed within the context of Big Bad Voodoo Daddy playing in Chicago on November 7. Yes, sometimes the truth is hard to handle, and no one understands this better than ourselves. After all, we are the media.
So the next time you spit on your monitor in disgust while reading stories on this site pertaining to shows, lizard people and governors groping bosoms for votes, as your spewed spittle oozes down your screen and your so-called sense of ethics stands aghast at what you’ve just mentally consumed, remember this: Whatever you read on this site, no matter how outlandish, no matter how dreadful, has been patiently checked, double-checked and verified for accuracy. From humpbacked space aliens disguised as Canadian David Bowie fans to secret enclaves engaged in transforming the world into “Weird Al” Yankovic groupies, everything you read on this Web site is pure, unadulterated, truth.
And if you can’t trust us, who can you trust? After all, we are the media.