Posts tagged “life imitates art”

Rock is dead they say

Rock is dead they say

If you want rock and roll all night, KISS Coffeehouse will be the place to be. On Tuesday, June 27th, legendary KISS band members Paul Stanley and Gene Simmons will be on hand at Myrtle Beach South Carolina’s Broadway at the Beach to cut the ribbon on the most outrageous coffee and dessert shop ever constructed.

One of the sublime pleasures in being a longtime fan of the Simpsons is that once in a while things happen that seem as if they are torn from the script pages of a recent episode. I suppose the corpse of rock-n-roll has already been flogged, flayed, broasted, turned into a B-way musical, re-released, remastered, repackaged, revised, endorsed, divorced, sold-out, infotained, bleeped and crammed into its Kiss Koffin where it revolves at a dramatic thirty-three-and-a-third revolutions per minute, but damn, this is sweet and bitter (like the coffee and desserts, no doubt).

Check out their menu:
Rockiato (size: Gold, Platinum)
Cinnamon Rollover
White Choc. Symphony
British Toffee Invasion
Rocket Ride Espresso (sizes: Single, Deuce, Destroyer)
Firehouse S’Mores
Kiss Kooler
also, Cotton Candy, Strawberry Shortcake, and Assorted Cakes, Pies & Sweets (as priced).

Is this what former Flintstones writers are doing nowadays? Frozen Rockuccino! Yikes.

[And is that even the correct KISS lyric they are referencing in their press release? Didn’t they want to rock and roll all nite?]

Senate panel says, ‘No way, dude’ to claim on ‘Surf City’ moniker

In an article about a dispute between two cities, the SF Chronicle masquerades as The Onion

Campbell pointed out that neither Santa Cruz nor Huntington Beach qualifies to be Surf City, under the terms of the classic Jan and Dean song, as neither place has ‘two girls for every boy.”
‘I’ve done some research,” Campbell said. ‘Neither city has two girls for every boy, so neither should be Surf City.”

Design imitates art

William Gibson’s Idoru

Laney, glancing down as they passed one of the glowing loops, noticed, on the treads of the stairs, hardened trickles of something that resembled greenish amber. ‘There’s stuff on the stairs,’ he said.

‘Urine,’ Arleigh said.


‘Solidified, biologically neutral urine.’

Laney took the next few steps in silence. His calves were starting to ache. Urine?

‘The plumbing didn’t work, after the quake,’ she said. ‘They couldn’t use the toilets. People just started going, down the stairs. Pretty horrible, by all accounts, although some people actually get nostalgic about it.’

‘It’s solid?’

‘There’s a product here, a powder, looks like instant soup. Some kind of enzyme. They sell it mainly to mothers with young kids. The kid has to pee, you can’t get them to a toilet in time, they pee in a paper cup, an empty juice box. You drop in the contents of a handy, purse-sized sachet of this stuff, zap, it’s a solid. Neutral, odorless, completely hygienic. Pop it in the trash, it’s landfill.’

They passed another loop of light and Laney saw miniature stalactites suspended from the edges of a step. ‘They used that stuff…’

‘Lots of it. Constantly. Eventually they had to start sawing off the build-up…’

‘They still…?’

‘Of course not. But they kept the Grotto.’

Another flight. Another loop of ghostly undersea light.

‘What did they do about the solids?’ he asked.

‘I’d rather not know.’

And today, this – Dog Poo Spray – the spray hardens the dog stuff so its owner can dispose of it more easily. I think it’s a concept at this stage, the winner of a design contest.


About Steve