with DeadSun
You've seen him in Fan Speak all around
the antiMUSIC network, now DeadSun gets his big show as the host of his
very own talk show, The Not Quite-So DeadShow ! Forget Oprah and
Dr. Phil, DeadSun knows how to liven up a talk show.
 .
.
The
Not Quite-So DeadShow : "Madonna's Crisis of Identity"
( hit stage lights, and cue the Rollins
Band's "Disconnect" )
Host DeadSun : Ah yes--- there's
nothing quite like a little Rollins to start the day off properly. Gotta
love it when the good Reverend Rollins lays it on the line. Good, good
stuff.
Well, here we are as Spring starts to stir
in the air. I am your humble host, the DeadSun, and this is the March installment
of the Not Quite-So DeadShow. What does that mean? It means unbuckle your
seatbelts, remove those irritating safety helmets, and assume the crash
position, because THIS month's serving of sardonicism is titled "Madonna's
Crisis of Identity".
Have any of you ever wondered to yourselves
how all of these air-brushed, bleached, as brained Pop Divas continue to
enjoy the level of market saturation that they do? Of COURSE YOU HAVEN'T,
because insightful minds such as yours already know how and when all of
this came to--- the answer is "Madonna".
From her humble origins, when she brought
new meaning to the word "overgrowth" posing nude for a certain erotic magazine,
to her latest identity morph into a spiritualized bulwark of socio-political
thought, I think Madonna's clever "identity morphs" ought to be given to
ailing people as an ipecac solution. Granted, until recently many of those
varied disguises of hers made a lot of the "right" people a neat little
pile of cash--- which is fine--- but as middle age sets in, it's getting
demonstrably harder for the goose to keep laying those golden eggs. How
come?
The reason is fairly straight forward:
because the buyer's market for consumers who desire seeing some 40-plus
year old trollop, fannying about with birthday party hats on her boobs,
and making out with religious statues, is RATHER tiny--- if you catch my
drift--- and so for the past several years, the "search has been on" for
fresh replacements, and as ANYONE with at least one good eye can see, we're
now UP TO OUR F*CKING NECKS in them. Take my word for it, just ONE "pop
tart" was nearly unbearable--- let alone three, or four, or eight. Unfortunately
for us, however, we're living in the NEW aeon, trumpeted in the year 1984
: "You know that we are living in a material world, and I am a material
girl."
The year is now 2004, and we're standing
in a PILE of "material girls"--- and it's starting to smell like low tide
at the ocean.
Now : I'm sure that you're all feeling
a bit impatient for me to bring the Material Girl out and commence with
the unmistakable "DeadShow" treatment that our malcontented audience has
come to expect. First, though--- a brief word from this month's sponsor:
( cue spoken advertisement for "Hippie
Chic" designer fragrances )
Are YOU a full time student between the
ages of 18 and 22? Are YOU an enthusiast of all-things hippie? You know
who you are. You've got the Birkenstocks, you've the endless supply of
certified organic trailmix, you're nearly doubled over from your vast supplies
of over-priced-yet-non-materialistic Phish merchandise, you've got the
Grateful Dead stickers on the rear window of your parent's SUV--- HELL,
maybe you've even got the falafel and chilled sesame noodle salad--- but
do YOU have that authentic "hippie smell"?
Unless you've adopted the hygiene practices
of a sow who rolls around in her own waste matter, we at "Hippie Chic"
brand designer fragrances say : WE BET YOU DON'T!
No worries, though--- because you, YES
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Be the life of the smoke-out or the protest!
Just doll yourself up with a few daubs of our enchanting top-seller, "Body
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there is : we offer a broad selection of authentic hippie fragrances, such
as "Urine Stain Euphoria", "Pungent Nutsack Nirvana", and our most recent
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Don't wait! Get a bottle today--- and REMEMBER---
if you act now, for a limited time you will be automatically entered in
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( end advertisement for Hippie Chic
)
DS : Heh heh--- good fun. That "Body
Odor Bliss" really strikes a chord of truth with anyone who has ever wandered
into a hemp clothing store to browse--- but NOW is the time when we bring
out this month's special guest--- and so without further ado, here she
is, the provocateur herself: Madonna.
( Cue applause light, along with Madonna's
"Material Girl". Enter Madonna. She is dragging a large trunk behind her.
)
DS : "Alright alright. Enough of
that song already. Ten more seconds of that, and a registered nurse will
have to come out and anesthetize me."
Madonna : "I don't know why you
played Material Girl, Mr. Sun. That's simply not who I am right now. Do
you know exactly how many identity changes I've gone through since 1984?"
DS : "No I don't, though I'm SURE
you plan to tell me..."
Madonna : ( before answering,
she removes some items from the trunk, and puts on a long, black wig, then
perches a plastic crow on her shoulder ) "I've gone through 287,934
different identities--- counting THIS one--- and each new incarnation is
a bold artistic statement. Everything I do smashes all previously established
boundaries of convention. I am virgin. I am mother. I am whore."
DS : "You are pretentious. You are
donkey. You are--- well, the whore bit is actually DEAD ON, so we can leave
that one alone."
Madonna : ( a new identity emerges
: she removes the black wig and stuffed crow, streaks her hair pink, puts
on a pinstriped business suit, and two big plastic clown shoes ) "No, Mr.
Sun--- you apparently don't get it. You see, my controversial veneer of
image over substance is an ironic testimony to the ethos behind consumer
driven Pop culture."
DS : "Really? It was ALL OF THAT,
was it? All I see is a transparent hand puppet wearing different costumes
to dress up cheesy dance music. There's nothing controversial and shocking
about that, let alone IRONIC. Pop culture is plagued with perfect facelifts
and empty heads--- it fits you like a glass slipper. I fail to see any
irony. Sorry."
Madonna : "WAIT... I've just had
a flash of artistic brilliance... one which captures my recent quest to
explore the very essence of American lore."
DS : ( arching his eyebrows,
and in a flat tone ) "You have?"
Madonna : ( removes her top,
puts on a rubber Richard Nixon mask, and starts finger painting "peace
signs" on her breasts with butterscotch pudding ) "There. Isn't this
a BOLD and provocative statement?"
DS : ( dials outside line on
studio speaker phone )
Voice : "Vittorio's Gondola, can
I help you?"
DS : "Is this Marco?"
Voice : "Yeah..."
DS : "Hey Marco, it's DS. Listen---
do me a favor and cancel my lunch reservation. I just lost my friggin'
appetite until Easter Sunday."
Voice : "Don't tell me... Madonna...
she's grossin' you out again? Just thank God she hasn't started RAPPING
yet... f*ckin' awful."
( hangs up )
Madonna : "Rapping is just another
vehicle that I put to use in my expressionistic attacks on the senses.
I am so controversial."
DS : "Yeah--- your rapping is an
attack on the senses, alright. I'll bet there wasn't a single Madonna fan
that had an unoccupied bathroom on the day they heard THAT for the first
time."
Madonna : "WOW. You're a hostile
prick, aren't you?"
DS : "Yes I am. Particularly towards
HACKS like you. Let's not pretend what "talents" you put to use 20 years
ago to get yourself where you are today. I'm sure over the past two DECADES
you've taken some singing lessons and learned a little music theory, but
I also find the fact that you still opt to lip sync during your live performances
to be MIGHTY revealing."
Madonna : ( furious ) "I
AM AN ARTISTIC VISIONARY!"
DS : "Look jackass--- you're obviously
suffering from a cranial-rectal inversion, because in the minds of THINKING
men and women, there's nothing VISIONARY about sucking tongues with two
plastic surgery disasters who are half your age."
Madonna : "You leave Britney and
Cristina OUT OF THIS."
DS : "Why should I? You're LARGELY
responsible for their careers. they're your indirect offspring. I even
hold you responsible for Courtney Love, too. Take away the heroin, and
you two addle-brains are like twin sisters who have probably boned all
of the same men."
Madonna : ( stands up ) "I
AM VIRGIN. I AM MOTHER. I AM---"
DS : "You are nuisance. You are
pissing me off. You are getting THE F*CK off this show."
Madonna : ( storms off the set
in a huff )
DS : "Good riddance to bad rubbish.
Now before I go and scour myself with steel wool and rubbing alcohol, I
want to thank you folks for checking in, and I'm going to close the show
by playing a song by a band who were honest-to-goodness musical visionaries.
So I'm going to kick back, and help myself to a bit of Sambuca. The song
is called "Sabbath, Bloody Sabbath", and--- if I need to tell you who it's
by--- then you're probably a true-blue Madonna fan who now wants me dead.
This is the DeadSun, signing off. Salute!
( roll credits, and cue the immortal
"Sabbath, Bloody Sabbath" )
Your
turn.
Fan
Speak:
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