Even More People I Want Sent Away Forever!

So today is December 31; the end of a tumultuous year that found our minds numbed by reality television, our bodies flushed over the sight of a nude Paris Hilton halting her sexual escapades to answer her cell phone, our hearts broken by a last-second desperation pass that symbolized the Minnesota Vikings 43 year existence, and shocked by a tragic accident that sees our most powerful politician facing a prison term.

With all due respect, one of the few constants over the year was the whining, ranting, and raving by a certain former journalist turned radio talking head. Yes, I’m talking about myself. No matter how sunny the day was, or or how many young babes I saw showing cleavage and leg, one could count on me to bring a dark cloud to the KRRO studios every Wednesday.

Because it is the end of the year, and to jump on the media bandwagon that wastes space with list after list, I am here today to run down 2003’s Top 5 Get Out of Town recipients.

Now this was not an easy chore. I spent hours (or at least one hour) of research going over old rants. It wasn’t easy to narrow the list down to five. How could I ignore Mitch Kreb’s hairpiece, the bitch in Lennox who used her political clout to get her daughter’s ticket tossed, the perky bimbo at Fox, fake bikers, telemarketers, Starbucks, and that damned blackbird that made my life hell this summer? Or the entire state of California, who ignored porn star Mary Carey’s innovative ideas and instead elected the worst actor in Hollywood’s history?

After much debate between my multiple personalities, this is what I came up with for the 2003’s Top 5 Get Out of Town’s.

At number five we have a tie. Truthfully, I just wanted to fit in a sixth person. But they are related. The fine folks at the Pavilion made the list for not only their piss-poor booking but their piss-poor marketing department. They actually booked a couple of great bands this year, particularly Wilco, but then just sat on their asses (at the sushi restaurant) instead of doing any work to get the word out. Lunch breaks and committee meetings are more important than actually doing the job that we as taxpayers expect.

Tied with the Pavilion staff is the person who designed the monstrosity. Supreme architect Jeff Hazard made the list for somehow getting his nose (and pocketbook) involved in any overpriced building that we’re forced to finance. Rumor is that this man is quietly buying up all of the property around North Phillips Avenue. If the Phillips to the Falls project ever happens, I wonder who’s going to see a financial windfall?

At number four we have the people behind a certain project that will probably be decided later today. Of course, I’m talking about Vikingland. Now don’t get me wrong. I like the Vikings, although I found great humor in last Sunday’s tragedy, and the idea of them going through training camp in Sioux Falls is quite cool. But as I said a few months ago, I’m against any tax dollars being wasted on bringing them to town. And I’m especially against using school system money. Every week I am bothered by school kids selling popcorn, candy, and wrapping paper to fund their activities - yet millions are going to end up helping the Vikings? There’s something wrong with our system of values.

I know the response - it’s an investment. Sorry, but the numbers don’t add up. It’s not going to bring in a million a day in tax revenue. There’s not going to be tens of thousands showing up to watch the “C” squad do calisthenics. The first day may see a record turnout, and the first couple of scrimmages, but otherwise training camp isn’t as exciting as good ol’ Kelby is trying to make us think.

Plus, any project with a title as awful as “Vikingland” deserves to be booted out of town.

On to number three. I feel awful for including these ass clowns on this list, but looking back at my old rants I’m struck by how often they pissed me off this year. And they are such an easy target. Yet they continue to get under my skin, particularly a couple of days ago when they had the seemingly thousandth story about how a certain local fluff rocker is on his way to stardom. Do they have a promotional contract with this “ar-teest”?

Yes, I’m talking about KELO. It really hasn’t been a good year for them. First they pissed and moaned about losing the rights to broadcast high school sports. Then there was their unholy reliances with Sioux Valley and other news sponsors. And let’s not forget about their infamous KELO connection to the Sars virus, or Mark Antonitis’ obvious conflict of interest for his role in Vikingland. To top things off was their awkward news “reporting” of Wild Bill’s courtroom battles. I think they’re very deserving of the number three spot.

Moving on to the runner-up position is three members of our esteemed City Council. No, make that two members because I refuse to kick out Andy Howes. He’s a good man who’s just misguided on this issue. But Kenyon Gleason and Darrin Smith definitely deserve a boot for many reasons, but particularly their role in this past summer’s Loop controversy.

If it was up to these ass clowns, it would be illegal to be young and bored. Now I was never a Looper, but I spent most of youth pretty damned bored. Hell, most of my adult life suffers from this same syndrome. Instead of creating solutions, Gleason and Smith decided to legislate against an entire age group of people instead of just having our fine men in blue actually do their job and enforce existing laws. Now these young men and women are spread out all over the city, creating havoc in restaurant parking lots where they now have absolutely no supervision. At least when they were downtown they were easily policed.

Finally, it should be no surprise who is number one...and it’s not just for the reasons one would think. Yes, I’m talking about Wild Bill Janklow, a man who was first mentioned in this year’s Get Out of Town in one of the first rants of the year. It seems like years ago that word came out that he had secretly pardoned dozens of convicted felons. Was it just eleven months ago that he was ranting about a liberal media bias making a big deal out of a few political favors?

Unfortunately for Mr. Janklow, that controversy was the high point of his year. We all know what happened the past few months - a tragic accident that resulted in the death of a man just out on a weekend cycle run. A controversial trial that hanged on a “lack of sugar” defense. A guilty verdict that led to his resignation from Congress. And now the possibility of him wiggling his way out of trouble with an appeal.

There’s a part of me that wants to feel sorry for Wild Bill. I’ve been through a serious car accident; I know about the guilt that one feels for the pain of the others involved. Yet it’s almost impossible to feel nothing less than contempt. Luckily, he kept his comments to a minimum concerning the accident. But nothing less than arrogance came out of his mouth on the few occasions he did speak out. “I was hurt, too.” “You people in the media aren’t fair to me.” “Those nasty letter writers are Democrats.” Wah wah wah. You made a career out of being Mr. Law and Order; of being a Man and taking your punishment. Quit your whining and take your punishment.

Special recognition must go to some of his more insane followers. Hey, there’s nothing wrong with supporting your man but some of these morons were certifiable. Remember that one psycho who took it upon himself to conduct his own investigation? Or that goofball who keeps writing letters to the editor placing the blame on the victim because, after all, he ran into Janklow. As I said before, that means that I can blast onto 41st Street from a side street because it would be the other guy’s fault if he hit me. What are these people smoking?

It’s time for me to calm down. 2003 may have a few hours left to haunt us, but it’s now over as far as this segment goes. Please tune in every Wednesday morning to see who pisses me off in 2004. I have no idea what will be on my plate in the next 12 months, but I can guarantee that I’ll have some comments directed at local newscasters, politicians, businesses, musicians, neighbors, relatives, friends, lovers, enemies, reality television shows, actors, and other various bitches and ho’s.
(December 24). Nine years ago, I published in the Tempest a letter to Santa. In that I didn’t ask for stuff for myself as I am blessed with family and friends who treat me very well. Instead, I inquired about a few items for the betterment of society in general.

Some of my wishes from that Dirty Bastard from up north included a new music bar, quality DJ’s at KAUR, an investigation into the monopolistic nature of country radio, a ban on any bands that feature little more than the original roadie, and death sentences for Phil Collins and Michael Bolton. Sadly, Santa did nothing with these requests.

But Santa did grant one wish that year. If you recall, at the time I was in a bit of a feud with a certain radio station. Here’s what I wrote about the station I called at the time “Really Rotten Oldies”:

“Please send KRRO a thorough rock ‘n’ roll history book. Someone needs to set them straight as to what is classic rock and what is Jurassic rock. Foreigner, 38 Special, Heart and Boston are nothing more than mere footnotes in rock history, and definitely do not need to be aired at a greater ratio than true classics like the Stones or the Kinks. As for new stuff, I think the only reason they’re playing Cracker is because they think they are a distant relative of Lynyrd Skynyrd.”

Ouch! Happily, Jurassic rock is now rarely aired on this station, except for the occasional Ozzy or AC/DC. Not that some of the current nu-metal is much better, but at least it’s current.

So I’m here today with another letter to Santa and his lovely wife. Yes, I said lovely wife. He traded in that old bat for a young babe. Why do you think he keeps saying “ho ho ho”?



Dear Santa,

I generally don’t write to you very often, but every few years I feel that it’s time that you visit a few people who probably don’t deserve gifts. They’ve been bad, bad people, but I believe in the general goodness of people. If you find a place in your heart to reward them, I’m sure the general public will greatly benefit. And I’ve been a pretty good boy this year, so you owe me a couple of wishes.

1. For the fine folks in the KELO Storm Center, how about a super-duper Dirk Diggler Doppler 10,000? Please, Santa, they need some upgraded equipment – something that allows them to predict snowfall more precisely than 2 – 10 inches. They need a device that doesn’t turn every bit of precipitation or wind into proclamations of impending doom. And if you can’t turn up a DDD 10,000, how about just putting in a giant window in the storm center? Just sticking their arms outside for a moment or two should greatly improve their forecasts.

2. While we’re on the subject of KELO, I have more suggestions. How about a new bar right next door to their studios, with a reserved stool for Steve Hemmingsen? If this was in place, then anytime they need a real reporter for a breaking story he’s only a few yards away. He wouldn’t even have to leave his stool. Instead of a remote right outside their front door (which is a huge waste of resources), they could move that camera right into the bar.

3. For Sgt. Jorgensen, I think it’s time for you to start a border war. I know, Santa, war is bad but I really believe he needs to see some action. God knows he’s probably not getting any at home. But think about it, Santa. The KELO-land borders are very imprecise. Is it really from Spencer to Spencer? Minnesota, Iowa, Nebraska, and Wyoming can’t be happy with our people infiltrating their territory. We need some sort of battle in order to restore order within the KELO-Land regime.

4. I thought long and hard on the perfect gift for Mayor Munson. At first, I thought that he deserved a local version of the Sims computer game – you know, like Sims Sioux Falls. But I have my doubts that our fearless leader can operate a computer.

Instead, how about a scaled model of Sioux Falls? Our honorable leader could then spend days and weeks experimenting with unnecessary buildings at inconvenient locations. He could try opening a new version of Louise Avenue through Tuthill Park, or tourist traps at every interstate exit. Or he could build the largest concert hall of all time. If his theory of more seats equals lower ticket prices, then a building that holds a million people should result in free tickets for everybody!

5. An empty bucket at Minerva’s for the next time a certain KSFY anchor feels the need to toss her cookies.

6. A morning show crew at 104.7 that actually lasts more than six months. Oh, wait – scratch that one.

7. A sense of humor to that perky host of that awful country video show, and anybody else who has bothered Cade and Jen because of something I’ve said. You’re in the public eye, people, expect some criticism!

8. Equal time for the other side of the political fence on any political-oriented radio station. Those pansy-assed liberals also deserve some time to preach to their choirs.

9. A bit of humility for Mr. Janklow. The people have spoken, Billy-Bob. You have always said that those who do wrong onto others must pay the price for their misdeeds. Well, you did wrong onto Mr. Scott, and you must accept the jury of your peers. Appealing the decision does nothing more than make you look arrogant.

10. A special channel devoted only to the young and untalented. Beyonce, J-Ho, Justin, Britney, Diddy. Oh wait, that’s called MTV. But Santa, keep them off all of the other channels so I can just delete them from my remote.

11. Every season of Married With Children on DVD. Seriously, and, while you’re at it, why not some classic episodes of Springer?

12. Some new writers for Saturday Night Live. This is easily the worst season ever.

13. Temporary child support amnesty for my sister’s baby’s daddy’s other babies. After all, my niece and nephew deserve to get what’s theirs. You know what I’m saying?

First of all, if Governor Pawlenty’s tax-free zones work in Worthington, imagine how they’ll work for the local Brotherhood.

Ok, Santa, I think I have exhausted my allotted list of wishes for this year. But before I leave, I do have one serious request. This is a real request. A good friend of mine has a young son who was diagnosed with brain cancer last year. He successfully completed treatment, but recently the cancer reappeared and he’s extremely ill at this time. I’m not a very religious man, but I am requesting that everybody who’s out there listening to give up a few seconds of their time and pray that at the very least little Jakob, and his parents, relatives, and friends, are able to enjoy this holiday season.

(December 3) There are two kinds of Thanksgiving traditions. There’s the enjoyable types of traditions – stuffing one’s self with turkey, stuffing, and other tasty treats; football, even if it is the dreaded Lions and Cowboys; that after-meal nap that for some reason is unlike any nap you take at any time of the year; and catching up with the relatives that you actually enjoy being around.

Then there are the bad traditions – nothing on television once the football games are over; the post-meal, post-nap boredom; the relatives that you have absolutely nothing in common with. The only way to keep that fake smile on your face is to drink heavily and pretend that you care about Aunt Bertha’s constipation.

The worst Thanksgiving tradition, however, doesn’t actually occur on turkey day. Every year, though, it slowly creeps up on the latter part of that evening. I’m talking, of course, of the day after Thanksgiving, also known as the Biggest Shopping Day of the Season.

Every year, the most vile, dirty, Springer-esque people start lining up in the freezing cold waiting for retailers to open their doors. In the old pre-internet days, these kinds of lines were saved for playoff or concert tickets. You’d keep warm by drinking heavily, and would possibly profit from reselling whatever you managed to buy.

While some of these people may carry on the tradition of drinking heavily while standing out in the cold, they’re now protecting their place in line for the right to shop. That’s right – shop. Something that can be done any day before or after Thanksgiving. Something that should be done before or after Thanksgiving.

I know what you’re saying – “but, Scott, everything’s on sale that day”. Ok, but they’re also on sale the next day, the next week, the next month. Here’s the retort to that piece of fact – “but they’ll be out of that special gift”.

It’s all a myth. Stores have sales throughout the Christmas season, and oftentimes the prices are even better as you get closer to the big day. And with the exception of a trendy toy that comes around once or twice a decade, there is no product that has any chance of completely selling out.

One of the ways that retailers get away with this myth is the dreaded loss leader. Every year there is some product that’s advertised at some unbelievably low price. Well, folks, there’s a reason that DVD player is only twenty bucks. There’s a reason that Clay Aiken CD, or that seasonal knick-knack, is practically given away. They’re junk. You’re getting what you’re paying for. As someone who has both a nice DVD player and a cheap junker, there is a difference. It’s not unlike the difference between one of those old-school Close ‘n’ Play record players and an expensive turntable with a brand new cartridge.

Even if there are true bargains to be found, there is nothing in the world that would convince me to be elbow-to-elbow with these trailer park cretins. It’s bad enough being at these joints during normal hours. Just the other day I ventured into a certain music/electronics retailer and within a few minutes I was ready to trash the joint. First there was the old lady who would waddle down the aisle and then suddenly just stop without making any effort to let anybody, particularly me, get by. Then there were dozen or so pseudo-cheerful clerks carrying little red baskets bothering me every second asking if I needed any help or would like to buy this goofy discount plan. Trust me, I can wander the CD section without any guidance, and without sounding cocky none of them would be able to answer any question I’d have anyway.

And then there were the dreaded carts. The DVD section in this store has narrow aisles to begin with, along with utility poles strategically placed in the middle of some of these rows. There’s barely enough room for more an person or two, let alone these morons with their close-to-empty carts. Yet there they are, trying to figure out which Van Damme, Schwartzenegger, or Julia Roberts dreck they want to watch millions more times.

My plan for Christmas shopping is simple – get in and out as quickly as possible. My son and I got most of our shopping finished two weeks ago when we had the first KELO blizzard misfire. The mall was our playground as it was almost completely empty, except for those bastard kiosk operators who now think it’s cool to accost people as they walk past. This past week I snuck into a store early Sunday morning before the hicks got out of church. A couple more early evening visits and I’ll be finished.

As I sit here today, I wonder what can be done to make the day after Thanksgiving a more livable, more enjoyable day. Obviously, most of these people will refuse to listen to reason, so let’s have some fun with them. How about we set up a giant wrestling ring in the parking lots of the big retailers and have a massive battle royal – an over-the-top-rope battle royal. Once you’re tossed over the top rope you’re eliminated, and your place in line is determined by your performance. The last person standing is the first person allowed in the store, the runner-up is second, and on and on. That would get me out of bed on Friday morning!

(November 19) Once again, the Get Out of Town segment is expanding its homebase. In the past, Hudsonland has expanded outside of the KRRO listening area, including a few weeks ago when I kicked out the entire state of California for their embarrassing gubernatorial mess.

Well, this week we’re going international! The American borders can no longer harness my rage, so I’m crossing the ocean to get rid of a Brit.

Anybody who is acquainted with me knows that I’m a Beatles fan. I’ve stated before how this was destiny – after all, I was born on the day when the Fab Four recorded “Love Me Do”, their first single.

My very first album was a copy of A Hard Day’s Night that I liberated from my mother. Sgt. Pepper was my initial plunge into purchasing albums with my very own money…although it was undoubtedly cash that was given to me by some family member. My first bootleg album was also the Beatles, as was my first bootleg CD, my first box set (every vinyl album in a cool blue box), my first radio contest win. I’ve heard tales of being propped in front of the television for the Beatles legendary first Ed Sullivan appearance and the television debut of Help. When Yellow Submarine came out, I convinced my father to take me to the theater. I recall the television ads stating that anybody over 30 won’t understand. That ad was correct, as my pop had just turned 30, and he hated it.

And if one was to take a look at my music collection, it’s pretty obvious that the Beatles (along with the Stones, Dylan, Chuck Berry, and the Who) continue to influence my purchases to this day. My love of power pop is well-known, and the pop-influenced punk I love so much is generally revved-up Help-era Beatles. Most of my singer/songwriter faves owe as much to Lennon as Dylan, and even my more avant-garde choices owe quite a bit to Sgt. Pepper and the White Album.

As much as I love the band, though, I have to admit that for the most part they suck as solo artists...and I’m not alone in that thought. My favorite critic, Lester Bangs, wrote way back in 1973 that the “splintered Beatles may well have weathered the pall and decay of the 70’s the worst.” Paul McCartney, in his opinion, was “as inconsequential as the Carpenters”. Lennon would “do anything…to make himself look like a Significant Artist”. George Harrison “belongs in a daycare center for counterculture casualties…his position seems to be I’m Pathetic But I Believe in Krishna”. And poor Ringo was simply “beyond contempt”.

To be fair, there was no way that the Beatles could have continued to be musical and cultural heroes. Their career was just too intense; every record was expected to top the last, and the whole world was watching their every move. They changed rock ‘n’ roll from a silly teenage novelty to an actual art form. That kind of pressure can only drive you to excellence for so long.

And there is also the reality that the truly great bands are the sum of their parts. The four Beatles together had an exponential power that can’t be exaggerated. And that’s true of all great bands. Look at the members of Led Zeppelin after their breakup. Or the Who after Keith Moon’s death. Or Mick and Keith’s limp solo releases. Johnny Rotten without the Sex Pistols. Strummer and Jones outside of the Clash. Paul Westerberg without the rest of the Replacements. Nick Lachey without 98 Degrees…oops, forget about that one. He sucks no matter who he’s paired with.

Because of what they accomplished as a group, I’m willing to cut the solo Beatles some slack. I’ll forget that Harrison spent himself with a triple album solo debut that emptied his song stockpile. I’ll forgive Lennon for Yoko Ono. I’ll even forgive McCartney for dreck such as “Say Say Say”, “Let ‘em In”, “Coming Up”, and “Freedom”. And I obviously forgive Ringo since nobody, and I mean nobody, expected him to do anything after the Beatles.

But I can no longer forgive McCartney. He has crossed the line. The bastard should just take his two billion dollars and his new legless bride and just go away forever.

Why am I so pissed? It’s because of yesterday’s release of Let it Be…Naked. The name alone is too cheesy…a title that I would expect from someone like Britney or Justin.

The story of this album is well-documented. Let it Be was the last Beatles album, although it was recorded before Abbey Road. The concept behind the album was that after the excesses of Sgt. Pepper and the White Album, the band was going to “Get Back”, so to speak. They were going to record live in the studio without any overdubs.

Unfortunately, they were in bad shape. Lennon had writer’s block for the first time in his life, undoubtedly because of a newly found love for heroin. Plus, Yoko was never more than a few feet away. Harrison, on the other hand, was writing a ton of tunes but was finding it impossible to get them recorded. At one point he was so angry that he quit the band for a few days.

And McCartney had decided he was going to be the leader of the band, no matter what anybody else thought. He wanted the band to hit the road, to film concert footage for the accompanying movie at exotic locations such as the Taj Mahal. The other three wanted nothing to do with his ideas or his leadership.

After weeks of filming and recording, the tapes were left to engineer Glyn Johns. He put together a couple of albums ideas that were rejected by the band. Months later, the band (except for McCartney) asked Phil Spector to salvage the project. His version, which added strings and other overdubs, was released in 1970.

McCartney was so pissed by this album, especially the strings added to “The Long and Winding Road”, that it became one of the causes for his lawsuit against the rest of the band. And with Lennon and Harrison, who liked the results enough to work with the accused murderer on their next few albums, now six feet under, he has decided to rewrite history.

Let it Be…Naked, which should be called Let it Be...McCartney, is now his version of the sessions. Naked is supposed to represent the fact that the overdubs are gone, but McCartney has also tidied up the album. Extraneous remarks, one of the few charms of the album (particularly Lennon’s sarcastic “thank you very much, I hope we passsed the audition” following a firey take on “Get Back”), are now gone, and most of the tunes are remixes or spliced-together different versions. And the sparse new take of “The Long and Winding Road”, whose overdub-free version was already released on Anthology, now stands as one of the hokiest tunes McCartney has ever written, which is saying a lot.

Oh, and initial copies of the thirty minute disc comes with a bonus disc which features a collage of song fragments and studio chatter. What’s missing is context. Various babbling on the bonus disc adds nothing to the story or the music. Presented without context gives us nothing but trivia; including them as intended add insight to the musician’s state of mind. But if this pieced-together babbling was to be placed on the disc why wasn’t this stuff just added onto the main disc as a bonus track? I know the answer – money.

That’s the other reason this album exists – pure greed. And everybody shares the blame here – particularly the surviving families and the record company. It’s been a couple of years since there was new Beatles product for Christmas – what better than McCartney’s version of the worst Beatles album?

I’m not against having another Beatles album in my collection. But they could have done a better job enhancing the band’s legacy. If Let it Be was to be examined, why not the pre-Spector version put together by Glyn Johns? Why not just expand the original album to include other songs and other versions to tell the true story of the band’s demise? Hell, I already have a eight disc set of outtakes – why not just put out an official box set?

So Paul, just beat it. Or as you said on one of your own songs on this album – “get back to where you once belong”.

(November 12) I’ve got a lot to bitch about today, so I’m not going to waste any time with some cutesy introduction. This week features a grab bag of locals and nationals that deserve a giant kick in the ass.

First off, I must start with a group of people that I’ve complained about in the past. They don’t seem to get the hint, so I must reboot. Please keep in mind that I have nothing against people that still support Congressman Wild Bill. You need friends in times of trouble, and Bill is certainly facing a few bad days in the next few months.

Sometimes loyalty stretches credibility, and a few recent letters to the daily paper are simply incredulous. A number of people have actually came out and placed the blame on the victim, saying that Randy Scott is actually the cause of the accident. After all, he was the one who struck Janklow’s vehicle…at a so-called high speed.

What exactly did Randy Scott do wrong? He was driving the speed limit on a state highway. It wasn’t Mr. Scott who blasted through a stop sign at a speed estimated to be around ten miles above the posted limits. One letter actually stated that if Mr. Scott had taken a few seconds to put on a helmet then the accident wouldn’t have even happened. What is wrong with these people?

Using this logic, I could barrel through 41st Street from a side street without worry. If a car was to hit me, it would have to be their fault, right? I don’t think so.

While we’re on the subject, it’s also time for Wild Bill to just shut up and wait for his day in court. His behavior last week at the daily paper was, while typical for the man, horrendously offensive. In his twisted, narcissistic mind, the so-called liberal media has it out for him. They’ll do anything to take him down, which is why the paper has reported so many “negative” stories on the man. He’s even had his people investigate the backgrounds of those writing letters to the editor.

I guess we’re back in Nazi Germany, where a negative word about government officials is a crime. Yes, the majority of letter writers against Janklow is bound to be from registered Democrats, just as the majority of favorable letters has to be from Republicans. That is the current state of political discussion. But I’ll bet there has been a few anti-Janklow letters from Republicans, along with a few pro-Janklow letters from Democrats. We are, after all, a reasonably open-minded state. Or at least I thought we were.

As long as we’re talking about the so-called liberal media, I have further proof that it’s nothing more than a myth. CBS’ gutless move to shelve the Ronald Reagan miniseries is more evidence that the conservatives actually run the airwaves.

I would never watch this show; I don’t watch any network miniseries’. But I respect the right of the networks to put on this garbage…although in a few minutes I will have some comments against a couple of shows that were on this past weekend. Les Moonves’ ass-kissing of Bill O’Reilly and other self-important media censors has not only made CBS the laughing stock of the industry but has also set a dangerous precedent for future provocative programming.

Before you toss me into the stereotype of a “liberal”, which I really am not, please keep in mind that nobody that was bitching about the show had even seen the program. Nobody had. One must remember, however, that before any script is put into production the suits pour through it to determine if there is any libelous material. The lawyers gave the production, which was based on a 1991 book, a thumbs up and nobody seemed to care until a couple of blowhards, who wouldn’t be happy with anything short of a gushing portrayal, started whining.

CBS should have just given these morons the middle finger and broadcast the show. It really wouldn’t have mattered. Nobody changes their opinions based on a miniseries. Those who love Reagan would have still had a woody for the man; those that despise him would still hate him.

CBS unfortunately did air the Elizabeth Smart story the other night, head to head against NBC’s fictional account of Jessica Lynch. Now these are two shows that should have been censored. Lynch can’t remember anything about her ordeal (oh yeah, now she claims she does since there’s a book to profit from), and there are disagreements over the government’s account of the story, but that didn’t stop NBC.

I don’t have as much of a problem with Lynch’s story, though, as I do with the parents of Elizabeth Smart. While I do feel for what the family went through, and I am as happy as anybody else that she safely returned to her family, I blame her parents for whoring out her story. They didn’t need to write a book; they didn’t need to peddle the poor girl like a sheepdog onto Oprah, Katie Couric, and those cows on The View. Be happy that your little girl is home, and retreat into private life.

The private life that I am excited about, however, is little Paris Hilton, the star of the hottest download since Pam Anderson went boating with Tommy “Bigboy” Lee. Last night I found five minutes of the tape, and it is a beautiful sight…except for the night vision camera that makes both participants look a little like creatures from the X-Files. A handful of positions and a little bit of oral find Ms. Hilton finally showcasing a talent. She’s no longer famous for being famous; she’s a porn star!

Yet I still must place Mr. and Mrs. Hilton on my hit list. They’ve been all over the press complaining that their precious little girl was drugged to a state where she was almost comatose. Trust me, the girl was wide awake, preening for the camera and searching for the perfect angle to showcase that luscious little body. She even took a time-out to answer her cell phone. She knew what she was doing, and if the Hilton parents had raised their daughters a little better she wouldn’t be in this current predicament.

Finally, no tale of family wealth is not complete without a commentary about MTV’s new series, Rich Girls. I never in my wildest dreams thought there could be not one but two young women even more stupid than Jessica Simpson. But these twits, one of whom is the offspring of Tommy Hilfiger, make Jessica and Paris look like brain surgeons…and neither have looks to fall back on. Truthfully, they’re butt ugly. I sat through one episode, which dealt with a shopping spree for their prom. As they’re about to visit one exclusive boutique, one girl states with a straight face that clothes should be free as they’re “a necessity”. The following week, the same person states that in a past life she could have been either Benjamin Franklin, who “discovered the light bulb”, or Muhammad Ali, who is thankfully still alive.

It’s an old bitch, but I’ll revive it one more time. Maybe it’s time that MTV actually shows broadcasts some music…and not the same Pink, Beyonce and 50 Cent videos that somehow finds airspace. We don’t need Punk’d, that dating show where snoop into the bedrooms of potential dates, the cheerleading school show, or any of those pseudo-documentaries that somehow turn geeks into homecoming queens or basketball stars.

Unfortunately, it’s time for me to wrap up this week’s segment. I haven’t even started on a few of my planned topics, such as this year’s awful episodes of Saturday Night Live; the inept announcing of Joe Theismann, or the horror story named Clay Aiken. There’s always next week.

(October 29) Fall has always been my favorite time of the year. The weather is reasonable – warm during the day (except for today) and cool during the evening. You can wear almost anything you own, from shorts to sweatshirts.

The highlight of the fall season is Halloween. It’s the perfect holiday – no pressure to purchase gifts, no religious dogma, no family obligations. But it’s also a great father-son bonding holiday. From the time he was barely walking, Halloween was always my kid’s favorite holiday. Even during the great blizzard of (I think) ’92, when we received over a foot of snow, we still made our way to a number of homes for free treats.

Unfortunately, that bitch ex-wife moved my son out of town, so we have rarely been able to spend the holiday together. And now that he is in his mid-teens, he obviously would rather spend the time causing havoc with his goofy friends.

But Halloween is no longer just a kid’s holiday. It’s become one of the biggest party events of the year. It’s a great night to drink, ogle women, laugh obnoxiously at morons, and just act like a complete imbecile.

Of course, I wouldn’t be myself if I didn’t have some stuff to bitch about. There are things that I absolutely hate about Halloween, as you’re about to hear.

First off, there’s Thriller – the album, song, and video. The album is the most overrated recording by the most overrated artist of all-time. It became the template of every record Michael Jackson has released ever since – all thankfully with shrinking sales. Now I’ll admit that there are moments on that disc that aren’t too bad. Unfortunately, I can’t think of any right now. But Thriller – the song- was the filler tune that concluded the album. If every other song on that disc hadn’t already been released as a single most people would probably still not even be aware of it.

But we are aware of it, because of that godawfully insipid video directed by John Landis. I don’t want to be too mean to Mr. Landis, as he did direct Animal House, one of my favorite movies of all time, but a bunch of dancing ghouls, a Playboy Playmate-turned crack whore, and a thirty minute running time did nothing more than set the stage for future movie studio budget videos for crap tunes.

Yet every Halloween the video channels pull this garbage out of their files for constant airing. I seem to recall VH1 running it for 24 hours straight a year of so again. Please spare us this misery this year.

Now let’s talk about costumes. And I have some serious bitching here. First off, I don’t need to see any more beefy dudes dressed up as women. It’s a serious buzz kill. If that’s your deal, then fine. If that’s the case, there is a bar in town that caters to that activity 365 times a year, and at least the people who frequent that establishment know how to pull it off. Really, I don’t want to see any hairy legs in high heels sitting in an un-ladylike way while drinking mass-quantities of PBR’s.

And please, when designing your costumes, think about where you’re going to be hanging out. If it looks like your favorite bar is going to be a little past the capacity limits, maybe that bulky costume isn’t the best way to go.

I remember back in the mid-90’s when Janitor Bob was at their peak. They were so popular at the time that even on normal nights one got to know their neighbors a little more than they wanted. Well, the band played on Halloween and there is nothing worse than 1,000 costumed people crammed into one bar. If you weren’t careful you were liable to lose an eye, or get stabbed in the crotch by some strange costume accessory. It was a miserable experience.

And I can’t bitch about costumes without talking about clichés. You know, the pregnant nun, the Kiss guys, Elvira, etc. The Scream movies are almost ten years old; please retire those masks (and the other standard horror movie characters). But those aren’t as bad as the "crazy, wacky" costume of the year. I don’t know what it is this year, but every year there’s a costume that all of the normals believe is wild and crazy. Remember a few years back when seemingly every couple was Monica and Bill? God, those people thought they were clever…but they weren’t. Or the couples who think they’re dressing as punks when they actually look more like members of the Knack. What will be this year’s cliché? Tough question, but I’ll bet we see more than a couple Siegried and Roys.

Moving away from costumes, let’s bitch about a few other Halloween clichés. What’s a Hudson bitch-fest without a rant about television? Please, let’s get rid of special Halloween editions of television sitcoms (except for the Simpsons). Renaming ABC "A B Scream" is simply embarrassing. Most of these shows are awful enough without trying to write in a costume party. Or the morning news shows that will inevitably decorate their sets and give helpful hints to parents for a safe Halloween experience.

While we’re at it, can we retire those horror movies that we’ve already seen a million times? I have friends who enjoy some of these movies, but I’ve never understood the appeal of Jason, Freddie, and Jamie Lee Curtis. They’re not scary, the plotlines are as poorly written as Steven Seagall flicks, and the acting is even worse. But if you do need to watch one of these movies, please go for the original. There’s no point in the endless remakes of Night of the Living Dead or Texas Chainsaw Massacre. They’re the cinema’s equivalent of Mandy Moore’s new covers album.

To wrap things up, I must bitch about the latest trend in trick or treating. I’m sorry but I think it’s wrong to trick or treat at the mall. The candy’s lousy, the mall staff could care less about the kid’s costumes, and it’s all just a gimmick to get mom and dad to buy some more unneeded crap. Trick or treating is supposed to all about wandering around the neighborhood, or a few neighborhoods, and seeing who gives out the best treats. For every house that gives penny suckers and tootsie rolls there’s the home that hands out real candy bars and sometimes other treats.

The mall scene is another example of how our nation has become a land of fear. There are all of these myths floating around about razor blade apples, poisoned candy, and abducted children. If we lived in Compton maybe this fear would be real, but there has never been a proven case of tampered treats. As for the abduction angle, I can’t think of an evening that would be more safe than Halloween. Everyone that’s handing out candy has their lights on; and there’s kids and adults all over the place to report any strange activity. So I plead with everyone to let their children have a good time – plus I got a buttload of candy to hand out.



(October 22) Imagine, if you can, the following hypothetical story. Let's say that out of nowhere, a complete unknown candidate emerges for a major local political office. Imagine the public reaction if one of the local television stations is completely up this person's ass, flashing grins whenever this person's name is brought up. Nothing but positive statements are read about this candidate; with no rebuttals from critics or political opponents.

Ok, maybe I just described Fox News. Just kidding…sort of.

What kind of uproar would we see if this sort of situation would occur. Everyone would be completely up in arms. That station would be the laughing stock of the state.

But that's exactly what's happening with the situation concerning the possible move of the Minnesota Vikings' training camp to Sioux Falls.

This rant is not to once again debate whether the Vikes should or should not move here. That was handled last week. My stance then, as is now, is that while I would love to see the team in this city, I don't believe that it's worth spending millions of dollars on fields and other renovations to entice the team.

One point from last week carries over to this discussion, however. If you recall, one of my main beefs was that KELO head cheese Mark Antonitis was a member of the organization who are preparing the proposal. As someone who represents a company who reports the local news, his personal involvement raises questions about the quality of news that his channel provides. Well, we know the quality of KELO news, or at least my opinion of those knotheads.

Anyone who believed that there was no conflict of interest should have seen their Sunday evening broadcast. Their top story at 5:30 and 10:00 was the fact that everyone at a local sports bar, including fans of the Denver Broncos, was in favor of the team's move. Well, duh. That's like going to a Nascar event and asking if those attending like racing. Or going to a strip club and asking if the patrons like firm breasts. Even an ass man is going to nod in agreement.

Certainly, there is room in local television news for fluffy, obvious stories such as this. But the role of local news is not to be simply cheerleaders. Their duty is to report every aspect and angle of any major story, with as little obvious bias as possible. Don Jorgensen's eyes should not light up whenever the topic is discussed. Financial issues should be discussed and investigated. As I said last week, this group is already inflating the figures, with the three million that Mankato claims it brings to their city now becoming a million a day, and over a million in sales tax revenue per year. Inquiring minds want to know how they came up with these figures, and why is their such a huge discrepancy?

The tactics used by KELO, and to be fair the other local stations, stray from their obligation on reporting the news. Not that is anything new. They're all famous for their creativity…and that's not a compliment. There are voices in the community that are upset about the five to fifteen million that may be spent, and it's not just the Skyforce players pissed that their girls will be stolen by multi-millionaires. I hear some of these voices everyday, and whether they are right or wrong in their bitching, their views deserve to be heard.

Some listeners may wonder why I'm singling out television news. After all, a well-know talk radio host is also on the committee, and most local radio stations have had few negative comments. Cade is a loud and proud fanboy…and he should be. Radio and television have different news standards. Radio stations such as this one are entertainment. While news is a part of the program, it's not the major focus. There is no obligation for music stations to have news reporters, or to investigate stories. The news that is read is mainly short headlines to keep their listeners semi-informed, or as a launch for opinionated chatter.

Television news, on the other hand, has much larger standards. They do have duties to be fair and balanced (oops, poor choice of words), to show diverse opinions, and to do everything in their power to keep commercial interests out of their broadcasts. Unfortunately, these lines have been blurred in recent years, which is why we have the Sioux Valley/Ace Hardware/Lewis Drug/insert more advertisers here Healthbeat, or the Subway Hit of the Week. Although most of these tie-ins are innocuous enough, the mere fact that television stations are in bed with their advertisers raises many questions as to how real news stories, including this one, are covered.

One final thought - when I was reading the article in yesterday's daily paper, I noticed that this committee is looking at calling the Howard Wood/Arena area "Vikingland". Hmmm, I wonder who came up with that cliché? Already, I can imagine KELO's new headline - "Vikingland comes to KELO-land".

(October 15) The views that I’m about to express are bound to be not very popular. They’re sort of against the grain of the current wave of support. Like that’s any different than normal. But I wanted to warn everyone, and also plead with those that don’t agree to just listen to what I have to say.

I must say that like everybody else I would love for the Minnesota Vikings to move their training camp to our little city. It would be great to spend a summer afternoon watching a real professional team (at least during a good year) working out and evaluating rookies, free agents, and grizzled veterans. It certainly would be great for my family’s businesses, as I would bet that a 290 pound offensive lineman can easily devour more food than the average family. And it would be good for the fine bartenders at Acme to have a few actual multi-millionaires slipping them a few generous tips instead of those cheap bastards that usually hang out there. And, of course, there’s a whole crop of young, stupid, slightly overweight young women just salivating at the thoughts of a lifetime of generous child support checks.

So yes, I am in favor of the Vikings relocating across the border. But here’s where my conservative side kicks in. I don’t want any government entity – city, county, or state – paying a dime to entice the team. Wait, I take that back. I probably wouldn’t be upset if a few thousand was spent on upgrading the locker rooms, or even the extra practice fields the team claims to need. Actually, I’d prefer that private funds were used, but let’s not quibble on the minor points.

What I don’t want to see is a major outpouring of money, particularly a dome covering for Howard Wood Field. Even the cheapest roof is bound to cost tens of millions of dollars, and, despite what the supporters claim, I don’t see a decent return on that investment.

Now let’s talk about the financial impact on our city. Obviously, there would be some extra cash floating around, from players, coaches, reporters, and the dozens of fans who would actually take vacation time to watch their team practice. But let’s get real. Officials from Mankato say the three weeks the team is in town results in 2 – 3 million a year. Keeping in mind that political-types and chamber of commerce officials tend to inflate numbers even more than those involved with Jazzfest, the figure is probably a little less.

But that doesn’t stop the locals from bragging. The initial reports stuck to Mankato’s figures, but suddenly that number seems to be taking a giant, albeit improbable, leap. Now it’s up to a million per day! How can that be?

This is the sort of rhetoric that has made so many of our citizens disillusioned with the Pavilion. Remember, they didn’t need a parking lot, and six months later we built one anyway. And we were also sold a lie that the facility would be self-sufficient, yet we still kick in six figures per year. You get the drift.

A lot of the major players in that building, and other taxpayer-funded enterprises, are now involved in begging the Vikes to SooFoo. Let’s talk about a couple of the bigwigs that met at Monday’s heavily-publicized meeting. The self-professed leader of this motley crue is Sioux Valley’s Kelby Krabbenhoft, the man responsible for using profits from his non-profit hospital to put their name on seemingly every weather machine, scoreboard and artificial turf in eastern South Dakota. While I don’t doubt that he has a passion for the sport, it seems obvious to me that he has a master plan that has nothing to do with Daunte and Randy.

It’s my belief that he sees this bid as a way to get the state to pay for a domed stadium, and his company would take credit and would get their name on the building for a pittance. Does the words Sioux Valley Doppler 3000 Stadium ring a bell? Get used to it. If the Vikings turn down our bid then he’s got the ammunition to get it built anyway. I can hear it now - “we’ve got to build it so we don’t lose our next opportunity”. Other members of the panel, including former Mayor Rick Knobe, have also been pushing for a domed stadium for years.

Please, let’s not again start in on this supposed need for a domed stadium. It’s a myth that big-name bands are just screaming for an opportunity to play in a half-empty Sioux Falls stadium. Our local semi-pro and minor league teams can barely fill their current locations; the demand for their tickets is unlikely to suddenly double or triple. We may have a larger population than Fargo, but we don’t have our own version of Moorehead or a real university to draw fans. The concert industry, like the record industry, is going through some tough times right now, and there are few bands that cross enough genres to attract the numbers needed to be profitable.

And a dome is not even needed for the team. There are very few days in late July and early August where the weather would affect the team’s practices. If a storm does come through, there’s always the Arena. The Storm plays during that time period, so there is a field for light workouts. One more thing – 10,000 people are not going to turn up to watch a scrimmage. Maybe the first time they host a scrimmage this could happen, but otherwise there’s about as much chance of that regularly occurring as there is that Jenna Jameson is going to marry me.

Let’s now talk about a representative of the state’s largest media outlet - KELO’s Mark Antonitis. As a member of the media that has a duty to report on both sides of the issue, Antonitis has no business being involved with the bidding. Certainly, having the team in town will be a boom for their reporters, but how can we trust any of their reports on this story? So far, they’ve been nothing but cheerleaders, even stating last night that “virtually everyone in (the mythical world) of KELO-land is in favor of the move”. Really? I guess that can occur when you only give one side of the story.

One final question. The reported plan includes an offer for the players and staff to live in the Sheraton during camp. Who pays for this? If it’s the city or state, then the hotel should be reimbursed for only their actual expenses. There’s no way that a private business should profit from the government.

Let’s be real. It’s highly unlikely that no matter what we give away, or whatever buildings we construct, they’re not leaving Mankato. Or at least not moving any further than St. Cloud. Given the fact that the team is trying to break out of their Metrodome lease, and rumors see them eventually landing in San Antonio or Los Angeles, maybe it’s for the better that we don’t get screwed.

(October 8) Before I begin, I have a couple of mini-topics to throw out at you. First off, here’s my thought of the day. Why didn’t that tiger that attacked Roy make his way to the Celine Dion show down the street? Then the animal would have became a national hero.

Secondly, did you know that the FCC has ruled that the “f-word” is now acceptable for broadcast? Earlier this year, Bono from U2 uttered the word while accepting a Golden Globe on NBC. Conservative groups filed a complaint to the government agency, which issued the ruling earlier this week. The bureau wrote, “the word may be crude and offensive, but in the context presented here, did not describe excretory organs or activities. Rather, the performer used the word to emphasize an exclamation.” In other words, I can say that’s “f-ing” great, but I can’t say I want to “f” Liz Phair.

Ok, with that out of the way it’s time to send someone the “f” out of town. As anyone who regularly listens to this segment, I cannot stand partisan politics. Politics is supposed to be an exchange of ideas, and political parties are designed to bring forth multiple ideas to solve our nation’s problems.

Unfortunately, politics in this day and age is nothing but showmanship and character assassination. At times, it seems like nobody on either side of the fence is interested in anything but power. This is why we get nothing but scream-fests on Fox and CNN, and why otherwise rational people still believe Janklow did nothing wrong.

Being as our state is generally more rational than most of the rest of this country, one would think that partisan politics would not play a role in running our government, particularly in our state legislature. Republicans completely run the show in Pierre, so there should be no need for silly games. Whatever Bill…I mean Mike…wants, he has the votes to get.

Yet there is a legislator from our fair city who takes great delight in pretending that he’s the local version of Trent Lott. It’s become his mission to embarrass anybody who doesn’t think like his party. Earlier this week, he crossed the line in my mind.

I’m going to tread a bit lightly while dealing with this man. You won’t hear me calling him a moron, or a Nazi, or any other disparaging term…even though he may resemble those remarks.

You see, this man has a day job. He’s a lawyer, one of the few professions even sleazier than politician. And I don’t need to be sued. I have enough problems in my life without that sort of headache.

The man in question has been in the running for a boot up the ass for quite some time, but there has always been bigger fish for me to fry. But after reading Monday’s daily paper, it has become time for the man to get his due.

If you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m talking about Republican Representative Matt McCaulley, who made headlines earlier this week with the announcement of his plan to introduce a bill to ban any sort of state income taxes.

I’m not here today to debate whether this state should have an income tax. That’s for another time and place. In fact, there’s probably no need to talk about this issue for quite some time, as it’s unlikely that we’ll ever see such a tax.

Income tax is a four letter word in this state. Just mentioning the words sends shivers down the backs of a vast majority of voters. In fact, the last time it was seriously discussed was in the 1992, and a ballot issue over this issue was shot down almost three to one. In the mid-70’s, the Democrats, who had a slim majority in the Senate, killed their party over this same issue. They’ve never been the same since.

As mentioned earlier, the Republicans have such a majority in the legislature that even if somebody did try to introduce such a bill it would be shot down quicker than I am on a Friday night. They have the votes and they have the money to fight any such future proposal.

McCaulley’s bill is nothing but political pandering; a method to put people in a political box. Anyone who votes against this bill, even if they just object to putting this ban in the constitution, could be painted as pro-tax in any future campaign. Keep in mind that our constitution already includes a prohibition against any new tax or tax increase without a vote of the people or a two-thirds vote in each house. Keep in mind that future generations can and will have completely different economic and philosophical challenges to deal with. Why tie the hands of those living in the next century?

In other words, this bill is just a waste of time and money designed for future radio and television commercials. And for McCaulley, it’s just business as usual. This is the same man who wasted our legislature’s time with votes supporting the President’s tax cut, the Iraq war, and the controversial nomination of Miguel Estrada to the U.S. Court of Appeals. That’s fine if McCaulley supports all of these issues; but since our legislature has no jurisdiction their opinion means nothing. Again, it’s just fodder for future races.

And McCaulley is also responsible for the “anti-Daschle” bill; a controversial piece of legislation that passed last year that would have prevented Tom Daschle for running for President and the Senate at the same time. If Daschle had decided to run, he would have been the only Senator in the race who would face this restriction. Yet McCaulley claims that he wasn’t even thinking about Daschle when he penned this bill. Yeah, right.

My Google search yielded a few other facts about Representative McCaulley. He’s against industrial hemp, stating that “it’s questionable as to whether there’s even a market for it.” As someone who once worked at a local retailer who sold hemp clothing and jewelry, I can assure the honorable Representative that our state is losing a ton of potential revenue on imported hemp products.

McCaulley is also in favor of home-schooled children participating in high school activities, and earned a thumbs down from the NEA for introducing a bill allowing anyone to teach in a public school.

Probably most damning is McCaulley’s work last year to enact a number of bills to restrict Native Americans from voting. One such bill would require any absentee voter desiring to vote by mail to apply to the person in charge of the election for an absentee ballot. The application would have to be in writing and be administered by a notary. This would be quite a hardship, particularly for those in ill health, in certain areas of this state where the county seat is miles from the voter’s residence.

These bills were the result of 2000’s tumultuous Thune/Johnson race, where large numbers of Native Americans led to allegations of voter fraud. McCaulley was behind the scenes on this mud-slinging, which culminated in three allegations of paid votes. All three allegations were dismissed by the Attorney General, a Republican, as being fabricated to support the Republican claims. Yet McCaulley used the words “voter fraud” to push these bills through the legislature.

It’s time for McCaulley to take his political bonfires to a state that thrives on such infighting. Maybe he’d be better appreciated in California.

(October 1) With September now nothing more than a distant memory, many people will start to spend more time lying around on their couch scanning the television dial. In my case, it’s not much different than any other time of the year. But for most people, the change between summer and fall is quite drastic.

With outside activities slowing down, the television networks take advantage and roll out their new season. In the past two weeks, every network has unveiled their lineup. All except Fox, who are tied up until the end of the month with baseball. Then again, when was the last time that Fox put on something worth watching? Probably twelve years ago when the first episode of the Simpsons was aired.

So the last few days I have felt a duty to sit through hours and hours of bad tv. And I’m here to tell you that this season could quite possibly be the worst season in television history. Of course, that has been said about the last few years, but I really don’t think any season could sink lower than what I have witnessed the last few days.

Here’s a few trends that need to be immediately stopped:

1. Reality television. I know, I’ve ranted and raved about these shows before. But they need to be eliminated, kicked off the island, tarred and feathered, tortured at that Cuban military camp. Anything to get rid of these shows.

Thankfully, dismal ratings this summer has spared us of new versions of the kiddy porn version of American Idol and a few other similar shows. But that hasn’t stopped the networks from putting on new versions of Joe Millionaire and The Bachelor. These shows are pure evil, pushing forth that stereotype that a woman is not a complete person unless she’s married. And the guys they choose for these shows couldn’t be any dumber. I never, ever need to see another tearful model-wannabe cry because the soulmate she met three hours ago kicked her off the show. “We had such a connection”. Boo hoo.

And let’s not forget Survivor, which should have never attempted a second, let alone sixth season. Jeff Probst is the devil incarnate, and the words “fire represents life” should never, ever be uttered again. And how is it that every year is the most shocking season?

2. Under-performing, over-hyped, nonsensical new shows. Anyone who watched any network programming this summer was forced to endure promos for shows featuring Alicia Silverstone, that guy from the Sopranos whose head was cut off, a comedy featuring that woman from the Regis show, some drama trying to take advantage of the popularity of the word Matrix, and about a dozen CSI ripoffs. Trust me, I never ever need to hear that fluffy teen-pop song that’s the theme for that Silverstone show.

Nor surprising, but all of these shows suck. An extra special suckage award has to go to Coupling, which has managed to turn a great British show into the worst show of recent memory, even while utilizing the exact same script.

3. Over the hill, way past their prime, former hit shows. Hey Joey, I don’t believe for a second this romance with Jennifer Anniston. Carter, every other star of ER has left, why haven’t you? Frazier, just admit that you and your brother are gay and go count your money. Sipowitz, we’ve seen your ugly naked ass way too many times, and that young blonde cop is way too hot for a fat drunk like you. And I won’t even go into the nonsense that’s called Boston Public and The Practice.

4. Dr. Phil. I just have one question – how can anyone who’s got a belly bigger than mine dole out weight loss tips? Why doesn’t he follow his own guidelines?

Dr. Phil is pure evil. The fact that he got his gig thanks to Oprah, who really is the anti-Christ, is reason enough to fear this fool. He berates people, particularly husbands, after interviewing them for just a few minutes. That’s just not right.

And his tour pimping his book was just embarrassing. Like any good pimp, he traveled form the Today Show to the Tonight Show, from Leno to Letterman. His show during that time period just happened to deal with the issues from his book. Who needs infomercials when you have your own show?

By the way, my silly sister was conned into buying this travesty, so I took a look. He seems to have stolen every weight loss idea from every other book and somehow combined them all together. Every paragraph or so features what he considers a bold statement, but in reality is nothing more than common sense. Save your money; don’t buy anything with Dr. Phil’s name on it.

5. Jessica Simpson. Or Jessica Simpleton, as I heard someone say a few days ago. God, where does one begin? There has never, ever been a more unlikable entertainment subject then this twit. I never thought I’d actually feel sorry for a member of 98 Degrees, but having to deal with Jessica completely absolves him from any musical sins he has or ever will commit.

The girl doesn’t know what rigor mortis is, confuses tuna with chicken, thinks buffalo wings are made out of buffalo, and is scared that she’ll swallow fishheads while swimming. She burps, farts, has pet names for her poop, and bitches and moans even more than Roseanne Barr.

The obvious question has to be whether she’s faking it. Could she really be this stupid? I say yes, but she definitely plays it up. Watch the next time she’s confused by something her husband says. That empty look in her eyes indicates she’s not playing dumb. But it’s also obvious that this moron has lived her whole life with people catering to her every whim. Her silly utterances has always been “cute” and “precious” She’s lived in a sheltered world where she’s the Princess. And now that she’s sort of rich and somewhat famous, people continue to kiss what she likes to call her stinky ass.

But I’ve come up with one way to deal with her show. I propose a drinking game. Every time she says something stupid, you drink. You’ll be drunk in ten minutes.

(September 24) It was approximately 18 months ago that I upset quite a few folks at a certain large granite building that looms large over this section of downtown Sioux Falls. Thin-skinned beuracrats caught second-hand knowledge of my babbling, and Cade’s phone started ringing off the hook. It marked the first, but hardly the last time, that one of my weekly rants resulted in a few headaches for the fine folks in the Midco building.

A few weeks ago, I was almost willing to grant these folks a pardon. 2003 has, for the most part, been a banner year for the Washington a Pavilion. Schlock artists like Lori Line and Bill Cosby are still the norm, but they’ve also shown a little bit of testicular fortitude in some of their booking. They booked a couple of current country artists, a few rock shows, a bit of reggae, and in a couple of weeks they’re breaking down the hard rock barrier with an appearance by Queensryche. And I am impressed that they have opened their doors to the local punk and hip-hop scenes.

But the show that really made me reconsider my position was last week’s booking of Wilco. Here was a band seemingly tailor-made for the building – a critic’s darling touring behind the biggest album of their career. A band with an extremely devoted following of fans who trade CDR’s of concerts, radio appearances, and studio outtakes.

Personally, I had a lot at stake with this show. After all, this was a band that I quite often used as an example of the sort of band that should appear at the Pavilion. Since this city does not have a club that regularly features national touring acts, I feel that it’s their duty to reach out to those kinds of acts. With that in mind, along with the hope of getting a bit of help in acquiring premium seats, I reached out to Steve Hoffman a few days before tickets went on sale.

In my email to Mr. Hoffman, I acknowledged that I probably wasn’t a person he wanted to hear from…but if he was willing to put all that behind him I was willing to do anything and everything to help promote the show.

Three weeks later, I finally received a reply. Claiming to be out of town when the email came in (but in truth they probably had a series of meetings to determine how to deal with me), Steve claimed to be happy to work with me on this show, and stated that he was forwarding my message to Mary Staddick Smith, the Pavilion’s Director of Marketing. But he also took an opportunity to criticize the so-called "bashing" the Pavilion receives on my website (www.ScottHudson.20m.com). Although he claims to "respect" Freedom of Speech, he offered to "fact check" anything I put on my site or talk about on this station. Yeah, like that’s going to happen.

That same day, I received an email from Mary, who requested my phone number to talk about promotion. Within seconds of receiving the message, I replied with both my home and cell numbers.

Once again, I heard nothing from anyone from the Pavilion for the next few weeks. Finally, I sent another email to both Steve and Mary. In that email, I expressed my disappointment that they had yet to contact me and their lack of promotion so far. I included a list of ideas, from papering record stores, coffee shops, and bars with posters and flyers to working with the college radio stations not only in Sioux Falls but Vermilion and Brookings. I pleaded with them to buy cheap cable television or Fox ads, and to also maybe work with the television stations on doing some feature on this unique band. None of these ideas were earth-shattering, but it was time for them to get off their asses and do something. And I was willing to do it for them.

They both sent complimentary emails concerning my ideas, and promised to follow through on them. Days later, Rick Huffman was here to talk about another event, and I begged and pleaded for some posters from him. Although he said they didn’t print many, he promised to provide me a few. Not one was left at the agreed-upon drop-off. Hell, I would have been happy with just one, as I was willing to make more at my own expense.

Still, I heard nothing. What’s worse, they did nothing. Besides a few spots on this radio station, and the daily eight-page ad that nobody notices in the newspaper, they did nothing.

The day of the show, I did finally receive a phone call from both Hoffman and Smith. To their credit, they called to offer me free tickets to the show…although if they had read my piece in Etc. they would have known that I already was in the front row. But I have to admit that it was a nice gesture. I missed Hoffman’s call, but was home when Smith called. While I was pleasant to her, I did admit that I was disappointed in their promotional efforts. She immediately became defensive, first stating that they didn’t have much money to spend, and then finally admitting that while it was no excuse, she "just didn’t have the time". What the hell is her job then? And why do I see huge stacks of promos, on heavy paper, for the Beethoven exhibit?

Obviously, the show didn’t do so well. 800 people, which is almost a half-full auditorium. But it could, and should, have done better. The over-priced tickets didn’t help, as tickets in Minneapolis and Chicago to see this same band is rarely over . But promoting the show is more than slapping yourself on the back. You have to get out on the road and let the people know about the show. When I co-promoted the Replacements at the Coliseum way back in 1987, my partner and I spent a day where we canvassed the entire southeastern portion of the state, from Yankton to Brookings and from Mitchell to Marshall. Every bulleting board and restaurant/bar that was willing was given flyers. We talked one of the local television stations to air a story on their early news promoting the band.

That’s what promotion is all about. You have to reach as many people as possible. There should have been a huge display at Ernie’s and Last Stop. Zandbroz, Black Sheep, Kristina’s, and every other hipster hangout in town should have had fliers hanging in the door. Best Buy should have had Wilco programmed into their background music, just like the Jazz and Blues Society does for their shows. Hell, the day after the show a number of people told me they would have gone if they had known about it. Hell, this past weekend in Minneapolis a handful of fans said they would have made the drive down here for the show (not that I expect them to advertise in the Cities). All of the necessary promotion listed above could have been done for less than the cost of one Argus Leader ad, and would have done more to put butts in the seats.

So instead of a Hudsonland pardon, this week I’m sentencing those fine folks at the Pavilion to once again take a hike. I appreciate the fact that they brought in one of my favorite current bands, but I can’t help but think of the missed opportunity to bring joy to a certain segment of the population that is generally ignored…and I also shudder at the future possibilities for more shows of this ilk.

(September 10) You know, I wanted to attack a local this week. It’s been awhile, actually, with the exception of that imbecile who decided he’s a private eye working for Wild Bill.

But this past weekend, I didn’t get much sleep. No, it wasn’t because of booze, pills, and whores. I could only dream of that sort of weekend.

My lack of sleep was due to those bastards from the RIAA. That’s the Recording Industry Association of America, who promised to launch a wave of lawsuits against anyone caught trading MP3’s online.

Actually, I didn’t lose much sleep. While I do download a lot of music, it’s mainly higher quality shn files of concerts, and a few upcoming releases that I inevitably purchase when released. I don’t waste my evenings looking for the same Eminem and Pink tunes that you hear on the radio every few minutes.

And I rarely use Kazaa, or it’s similar sister networks. My downloads come from newsgroups and other obscure programs that are next to impossible to trace…which also shows how futile the record industry’s heavy-handed approach really is.

This story began earlier this year, when the RIAA filed lawsuits against a handful of college kids who had set up their own search engines on their campuses. What wasn’t publicized was the fact that these programs weren’t used primarily for music – they were search engines to assist students in research.

Aided by quick settlements with these students, and a crazy court decision that opened the records of Verizon Wireless, two months ago the record industry announced plans to initiate lawsuits against anyone that they discovered downloading.

Last week, the bastards offered what they called a “general amnesty” to file traders who stepped forward and promised not to do it again. Like anyone would do something as stupid as assisting these people in creating a database that could be used against them in the future.

Here’s what the RIAA required in this so-called amnesty – a notarized form promising to delete illegally downloaded files from their computer, a submitted copy of a photo identification, and a pledge to refrain from future downloading. In return, the RIAA would agree to not sue them.

Wired Magazine covered this story last week, and many experts questioned this idea. “I would think that many of the people who have downloaded music would be concerned about their privacy rights,” said attorney Tom Lewry. “I think people distrust the RIAA.” I would think that we should be worried anytime a giant entity starts collecting information on individual Americans. Who knows how that info will be eventually used, especially since there are many questions concerning the RIAA’s authority to even grant amnesty. After all, they don’t represent songwriters and music publishers. I don’t think it would be a stretch to imagine the RIAA providing this information to someone else looking for a quick buck.

People that were already being eyed by the RIAA were exempt from this program, and earlier this week 261 people were sued. That number may not seem very high, but it’s just the beginning. Included in this group was a twelve year old girl, whose parents have stupidly already settled for ,000, at least two grandparents, and a number of other parents who had no idea that their computers even housed illegal files.

I don’t deny that downloading is a part of the record industry’s declining sales, but it’s not nearly the entire problem. As I stated a few months ago, the entire economy is struggling, and more and more of the ever-shrinking discretionary dollar is going to DVD’s, video games, and even cell phones. Plus, the cash cow for the record industry for years was not new releases but old catalog. Twenty years after the CD was unveiled, anyone who wants the Eagles Greatest Hits already owns it. But they don’t already own those Simpson’s box sets on DVD.

And let’s face it, this has been a piss-poor year for new releases. I’m not saying that there isn’t great music coming out this year; I’m talking about the so-called superstar releases that make or break the industry. With the exception of Metallica’s new album, no new release has had realistic dreams of multi-million sales. You can hype Ashanti and Mya all you want, but those albums were dead on arrival. Madonna had to suck face with Britney just to stay in the news.

So what does the record industry do to bring attention to themselves? They piss off their potential best customers. Keep in mind that an independent study conducted earlier this year indicated that the biggest downloaders were actually purchasing more music than ever before. Keep in mind that people like me are almost forced to use downloading to discover those hidden gems that are a bit off the beaten path.

And now listen to these numbers. If the record industry’s intention was to piss of their best customers, they have succeeded. The backlash has begun. While downloading has declined since the RIAA’s crackdown, the decline in CD sales also accelerated. On June 15, the day the RIAA launched their subpoena campaign, CD sales were down 6.1 percent for the year to date. In the seven weeks since, the sales decline has accelerated 54 percent.

And let’s face it, this entire problem is the fault of the record industry. They were the people who developed a digital version of music that was easily duplicated. They were the people who constantly resisted calls to set up a system for LEGAL downloading. They were the ones whose initial attempts at downloading services were so cumbersome that nobody in their right mind would subscribe. Who’s going to pay for songs that you couldn’t even burn to disc? Who’s going to pay to listen to low-quality streams that expire at the end of the month?

It’s time that the record industry changed the way they operate. They need to look at the success of Itunes and develop a model that grants access at reasonable rates. They need to realize that downloading services are vitally important during a time when discovering new music through traditional methods is next to impossible. And they need to realize that the majority of people who fill their computers with song files are the same people who borrowed their friend’s album to copy to cassettes just a few years ago. They didn’t buy music then; they don’t now.

I’ll conclude with a pledge…or is it a promise…or maybe it’s a threat. I currently purchase an average of five CD’s a week. Just yesterday I dropped on new releases. I’ve been a lifelong consumer of music, from 45’s when I was barely out of diapers through the eras of albums, cassettes, CD’s, and now DVD-Audio discs. If I ever receive any sort of threat from any label or any music-related organization, I’m through. My music collection will suddenly be considered complete. I’ve got more than enough tunes to last me a lifetime…and maybe that extra money will be better spent on booze, pills, and whores. If I’m going to break the law, I might as well do it right.

(September 3) Friends, enemies, babes, Cade, and Jen. This past Thursday evening you almost lost your Get Out of Town correspondent. I don’t recall precisely when – was it during that contrived, non-shocking, no tongue-in-sight kiss between Britney, Christina, and their grandmother…I mean Madonna? Or was it during that wretched mall-punk sound of Good Charlotte? Or maybe it was during the 50th airing of that Beyonce Pepsi commercial, or her not-even-close lip-synching Super Bowl halftime performance of the same song. Wait; I know when it was – after the seemingly 100th reaction shot of Justin Timberlake.

Actually, I really don’t know when suicide crossed my mind, but sometime during last Thursday’s MTV Video Music Awards I had this sudden urge to run to Wal-Mart to buy a rifle and rid myself of the misery I was enduring.

Even during the worst of years, the VMA’s had some redeeming value. There was always something that was entertaining – even last year there was the segment featuring the Hives and the Vines.

Not this year. With the exception of Chris Rock reading my mind while dogging everyone from Paula Abdul to 50 Cent, there was absolutely nothing worthwhile on this year’s telecast.

Should I be surprised? No; it’s actually been years in the making. There was a time when MTV was ahead of the curve; playing future hits and plenty of them. In the early days, you could catch British pop and rock that was way cooler than the steady dose of Journey, Styx, and REO Speedwagon that was all over the local radio waves.

Later, they accepted the mainstream pressures that came with success, but still mixed in up-and-comers with the Michael Jackson and Phil Collins videos that drove us all nuts. And there was always 120 Minutes, which in its prime was everything college radio should have been but rarely was.

All of that seemed to change when Kurt Cobain died. I don’t know how or why it happened, but I truly believe that MTV execs colluded with the record industry to make sure that nothing as scruffy as grunge and Green Day would ever happen again.

Around that time, MTV cut their music programming to just a few hours a day, replacing it with endless reruns of Real World, Road Rules, and other silly shows. (The award to worst show would have to go to Say What Karaoke, with the Frat and Sorority Lives right behind it. And let’s not even go into the Anna Nicole imitation that is Jessica Simpson.)

As for the music, if it was real it couldn’t be on. Starting with the Spice Girls, the past decade has been nothing more than a running progression of created no-talents, from Hanson to Da Band. All it takes is a pretty face, a sampled 70’s r&b hit, and a producer with the latest in Pro Tools technology. Those model-types lacking charisma hide behind layers and layers of ghetto-tastic pimps and ho’s. The little bit of rock that is aired appears to be cast out of a sitcom casting call, with the same sort of behind-the-scenes guru forcing their every move. And no matter how vapid these people obviously are, they’re still fawned over by mega-tool Carson Daly on TRL.

No, MTV is no longer a music channel. It’s a fantasy lifestyle channel, equal parts Nickleodeon and E! A never-ending commercial for the latest in mall culture – programmed into young adults and teenagers minds through constant repeats and overexposure.

Look at the buildup to this year’s show. For weeks they ran the same clip shows repeating that same line about how one has to expect the unexpected. Look, there’s Courtney Love ambushing the Madonna interview. Look, there’s Krist Novoselic hitting himself on the head with his bass. And don’t forget about the infamous kiss between Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie Presley. Every clip is accompanied by some pseudo-celebrity commenting on how it’s “off the hook”.

And then there’s the pre-show. Thinking they’re the youth version of the Oscar red carpet, we get to watch the stars arrive. Generally, you can judge the talent level by the amount of clothing. Coldplay wear normal clothes; Christina shows her ever-growing ass. Beyonce’s mother tells Rolling Stone that her daughter would never show cleavage in an issue that arrived on the same day that Beyonce’s breasts were begging for release out of her J-Ho-inspired scarf-wrap.

This is all accompanied by repeating that mantra from the clip shows – the VMA’s are crazy; expect the unexpected. “Anything can happen”, explains one of the Olsen Twins. I don’t know who that Asian VJ is but I want to know who she blew to get the gig. After listening to her interviews and self-hype for an hour, I long for the days of Selena Altschul and that red-head twit who asked Clinton if he wore boxers or briefs.

Finally, the show begins with the infamous “Like a Virgin/Hollywood” medley. Was anyone really surprised by the kiss? Does anyone think that this happened only because Madonna’s new album has been the biggest bomb of the year? I like girl-on-girl as much as the next guy, but how about something truly inspiring and shocking – like maybe Britney with Jenna Jameson? And really, whatever boner one could conjure from that coupling was instantly gone when Missy Elliot appeared onstage.

I guess the kiss did it’s job – it got Madonna back in the news; it changed the normals’ view on Britney. And it’s the only thing that will be remembered from this year’s telecast, despite the constant replays and self-congratulation that we’re bound to endure for the next ten years.

As you can guess, I’m kicking MTV out of town; out of this country; out of this world. And please take with you the following people – Sean Paul, Fred Durst, every MTV VJ except for Kurt Loder (who just has to be a heavy drinker to endure this twitfest every year), Beyonce, the Queer Eye For the Straight Guys guys, Ashanti, Lebron James, Good Charlotte, Dave Navarro (for that wankfest appearance with Christina), Justin Timberlake, Mary J. Blige, 50 Cent (or 50 as everyone else called him), Duran Duran, Nelly, P. Diddy, and Metallica. Your time is up people. Let’s get rid of the Wal-Mart mentality and get back to what made MTV famous – the music.

(August 27) This week’s episode of Get Out of Town is dedicated to Al Franken, author of Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them, the number one non-fiction book in the country. And it definitely deserves that honor as it is the first book in years that has had me laughing out loud.

Before we get to today’s victim, I have another New Rule. Actually, I intended to include this one last week, and it was one of the main reasons I wanted to do a New Rule segment. Being the space cadet that I am, though, I forgot all about it when I was compiling my list last Tuesday night.

So this week’s New Rule – as of today nobody can ever use 9/11 as an excuse for their own personal failure. I’ve always found 9/11 as a convenient excuse. Anytime something goes wrong, it’s 9/11. That’s BS. But a few weeks ago, an article in the paper once again allowed a failure of a businessman to blame the terrorists for his own shortcomings.

This story dealt with a certain downtown restaurant that took over a formerly successful business. The new owner immediately threw money into the building. He expanded into the open spot next door; he hired twice as many employees as needed and also sunk a ton of money into advertising. Unfortunately, he mainly threw this money at an AM station that appealed to an age group approximately double of those that had frequented the former business.

He also held back his scheduled payments to the previous owner, a small businesswoman who had sunk her life savings into this place. Even when he made it known that he was going to close, he refused to throw her a couple of bones. She even requested that he turn over his overpriced wine inventory. Instead, he threw a big party for his friends the day after he closed. A few days later he declared bankruptcy. Not only did the former owner never receive her cash, she was ultimately forced to spend a ton of cash to buy it back.

So let’s declare a moratorium on 9/11 as an excuse. It’s been two years and we’re a couple of thousand miles from New York City. I don’t think the tragedy is really affecting our day to day life.

On to this week’s Get Out of Town. I must say that I gave this week’s victim a lot of thought before I put these words on paper. This guy is a pure nutjob, and as I discussed with Cade and a few other Midco staffers a few weeks ago, I’m kind of hesitant to give these morons any sort of publicity. You know, people like Neil Tapio, who has no reason to be in the news yet always manages to say something outrageous just to further his own self-interest.

But I can’t help but rant about this week’s victim. The story begins this past Monday. As you remember, this was two days after Wild Bill’s tragic adventure, and we still didn’t know much about what happened. I was listening to Greg Belfrage’s show that afternoon, and to his credit he was only allowing people to comment on what was known to be fact. There was no speculation allowed.

Greg was consistent in cutting off anyone who would provide second-hand info or just plain guessing as to what happened at Trent-aquidic. Around halfway into his broadcast, he received a call from a listener babbling uncomfirmed theories about Randy Scott, the victim of the tragic accident.

This gentleman was babbling about alcohol use and the driving speed of Scott, arguing that he had to be speeding or else he wouldn’t have flown as far as he did. He agreed that nobody should be speculating about Janklow’s actions, but for some reason he should feel free to do the same about Randy Scott.

Two days later came reports that a gentleman by the name of James P. Wainscoat, of Viborg, had been quoted at the scene of the accident by a Washington Post reporter as being hired by the Janklow family to “gather information about the accident and the cyclist”. The supposedly former Metropolitan Police Department officer from the District of Columbia, also was quoted as saying “even if you run a stop sign and somebody iskilled, there can be mitigating factors that help your defense. My job is to find those factors”.

When the story hit the papers, Wainscoat then called the Associated Press and denied that he had been hired by Janklow, and that he was “working on his own to scour the accident scene for evidence because he thinks news reports about the crash have not given enough information favorable to the Congressman”.

Further reports also stated that he had actually visited Janklow’s residence and tried to talk to Janklow’s wife, Mary Dean Janklow. He was quickly asked to leave, and Janklow even made his first and only comment since the accident – “This guy’s a liar and he’s invented this. It isn’t just a matter of denying it. It never happened…I don’t even know who he is”.

Thursday afternoon, Wainscoat, who turned out to be the insane guy who called on Monday, once again called Belfrage’s show. The Washington Post story came about because three days after the accident he had traveled to the crash site to investigate. He claimed to have found a Coke can that reeked of alcohol, and when he called out to someone to witness his find the Washington Post reporter responded. Asked who he was, Wainscoat admittedly told the reporter that he was on the scene on behalf of the Janklow’s….not investigating on his own but in behalf of Bill.

In his call to Belfrage, he also claimed to be investigating Scott’s background by visiting the liquor establishments in his hometown. All of this despite the fact that investigators had already concluded that Janklow was speeding, had failed to stop at the stop sign, and that neither driver had consumed alcohol. But this Coke, again found three days later, was supposed to lead investigators to retest Scott’s blood alcohol levels.

What a moron. As Belfrage said on his website, these are “reckless allegations. Wainscoat has not only harmed Congressman Janklow with his actions…but his brazen arrogance only deepens the wounds suffered by the Scott family.”

As if this wasn’t enough, it turns out that in November, 2001, Wainscoat was arrested in Omaha after climbing atop a fountain on the University of Nebraska at Omaha campus and burning a flag bearing the likeness of Osama Bin Laden. According to the AP, “Wainscoat, clad head-to-toe in fatigues, defied police for more than two hours as he waved an American flag atop the fountain, then burned what he deemed a Taliban flag.”

This guy is obviously short a few marbles, and needs to leave immediately. I’ve got a few suggestions for his next gig. Maybe the unsolved anthrax found in Daschle’s office? Oh yeah; wrong political party. Or the Laci Peterson case probably needs a few more nutjobs. Isn’t OJ still searching for the real killers? No, I got it. Let’s send him to Iraq to search for Weapons of Mass Destruction.

(August 20) This is another one of those weeks where we do something a bit different. I’m a huge fan of Bill Maher. In my opinion, Politically Incorrect was a groundbreaking television show, and his new uncensored HBO talkshow, Real Time With Bill Maher, is in some ways better than the original.

Why do I admire this man? The fact that Democrats think he’s a conservative and Republicans think he’s a liberal is something that should be an aspiration of all political talk shows, but rarely is these days. He feels that it’s his duty to speak his mind, not caring which side he’s taking and/or who he’s pissing off.

My favorite segment of Real Time is towards the end of the show. It’s called New Rules, where he spouts off about various things that are currently pissing him off. Sound like someone in this room?

Here are a few New Rules that I’d like to implement immediately.

New Rule – (I adapted this one from last week’s episode.) White people cannot speak in Snoop Dogg-ese. There’s nothing more embarrassing than a white person, particularly a middle-aged white person, attempting to speak the lingo of the streets. Last night I saw a commercial for some horrible sitcom starring that blonde girl from 90210. She actually uttered the a few of the “izzle” words that are the highlights of Doggyfizzle Televizzle. Please, folks, you sound terminally white.

New Rule – a complete ban on the phrase “let’s get this party started”. It’s bad enough that this song haunted us for almost a full year. Now, similar to my first new rule, it’s become a catchphrase for the unhip. If you think you’re a wild and crazy person for saying these words, then you’re not nearly the party machine you think you are.

New Rule – weathermen must stay indoors. We know what rain, wind, and snow look like. You don’t need to go outside for us to understand. Stay at your desk. And while we’re at it, let’s put an end to this practice of sectioning off a portion of the newsroom and labeling these cubicles as “storm centers”.

New Rule – cellphone users must take special driver’s tests. I am a person who believes that some people can handle driving and chatting at the same time. But most people cannot. Just yesterday I was behind this clem on Grange Avenue from 10th to 38th Streets. He must have made eight calls during this time, and whenever he dialed he would slow down to about 10 mph. While waiting for an answer he’s speed up to 25; if they answered he’d dip to 15. I was ready to shoot this moron.

What did we do before cell phones were invented. Helping out at my parent’s restaurants, I sometimes see the exact same people multiple days in a row with a cellphone permanently glued to the side of their face. Who are these people talking to, and why can’t it wait until they’re off the road?

New Rule – summer clothing rules. I don’t want to sound too sexist, but shouldn’t there be rules to prevent people of certain sizes from wearing shorts? Maybe the benchmark could be 5’2” and 250 pounds – should they be wearing shorts that are above the knee? Or if your waist size is equal to or exceeds your waist or bust should you wear belly shirts? Think about the extra revenue from fining people at the fair.

New Rule – a hottie dress code. Those that meet certain requirements must at all times wear booty shorts, belly shirts, stripper heels, etc. Think of the boosted morale! I’d never be in a bad mood.

New Rule – no more hair metal stripper music. This is a plea for tonight’s amateur night. “Girls Girls Girls” was fine 15 years ago; it’s a cliché now. I could go on and on with more offending music; let’s just forget this stuff ever existed and find something new and fresh.

New Rule – this goes out as a preemptive strike before football season starts. No more use of the words “we” and “us” when talking about your favorite teams. Unless you play for the Vikes or Packers, or once played for those teams, or work for those teams, you cannot say phrases such as “we’ve got to win this game” or “the refs screwed us”. You have absolutely nothing to do with their performance. And while we’re at it, I am begging Packers fans to please toss out those goofy striped sweats. They look hideous.

New Rule – excessive Nascar paraphernalia will result in fines. I won’t pretend to understand this racing crap, but a simple t-shirt is more than enough to showcase your enthusiasm. Anything more results in fines…and life in prison for anyone caught with one of those jackets filled with the logos of the racer’s sponsors.

New Rule – KELO will no longer refer to any part of South Dakota, Minnesota, or Iowa as KELO-anything. They can also no longer refer to any press releases as a “letter to KELO-Land” as if they were the only recipient. Any violation of this rule will result in Shawn Cable and Perry Groten entering the “KELO DOME OF DOOM” for a bitchslap contest that doesn’t end until one of them cries.

New Rule – no local business owners are allowed in their own commercials. We’ll let this slide if they have some actual talent in creative art. Otherwise, there’s no need for these slimy car dealers, middle-aged furniture store owners (and their grandchildren), bar owners, or any other business men and women to appear in their own ads. It’s a dangerous business; let the professionals handle it.

New Rule – no more political double standards. You can’t deride actors or musicians for their supposed liberal views then celebrate when a supposed conservative actor enters a race. They either all should shut up or they all should have the right to state their opinions. You can’t pick and choose.

New Rule – no news means no news. There’s a recent trend in television news to run with a story for multiple days, weeks, and months, even if there is nothing new to report. In national news, examples are Chandra Levy, Laci Peterson, the West Virginia snipers, and last week’s blackouts. Local examples are military call-ups, the West Nile virus, the not-so-aptly-titled Twister Tuesday, SARS, and now Janklow. If there’s nothing to report, why are there still stories. Elvis is still dead, and so are these stories.

These are just a few ideas that popped into my head last night. I’d like to add to this list – if any of our listeners have some ideas please email me (Hudson@iw.net), or go to my website (www.ScottHudson.20m.com) or message board (http://shudson.hyperboards2.com) and send those to me.

(August 13) Every now and then, the scope of the Get Out of Town segment must be expanded so that I can rant and rave about non-Sioux Falls topics. This is one of those weeks.

But what should I call these sorts of essays? Get Out of Town just doesn’t work if it’s not in Hudsonland. Usually, when I bitch about out-of-jurisdiction topics I can justify things by saying they somehow affect some people in Hudsonland…but today is not one of them. So what works – Get Out of Here? Go Away? Please Kick Me in the Ass?

I’d rather not babble about today’s topic, but I feel that I must. A grave injustice is turning into a crazy circus that would have seemed impossible just months, if not years ago. An entire state is starting to look ridiculous, and will probably look worse in days and weeks to come.

Yes, I’m saying goodbye to California. It pains me to do this, it really does. It may be trendy to say one loves New York, but it’s California that has always had a place in my heart. I’ve been out there a few times in my life, and have always had a great time. California is the place where I first spoke to a hooker…no, I didn’t indulge. It’s the first place I saw full nude strippers. But these are other stories for another time.

On a more "chamber of commerce" vibe, California has Disneyland and Knots Berry Farm for the kids. When you get older you get art, music, film. You’ve got warm beaches just a few miles from snowpacked ski resorts. And at any age you have hot babes running around with very little clothing…and any place that offers lots of toned skin is alright in my book.

But there always has been a bit of a darkside to the state. My god, it’s also the state that has produced the Grateful Dead, Charles Manson, the Beach Boys, Altamont, and hippies.

Why am I bitching about this fine state? Well, if you don’t know then you haven’t been following the news. California has become a mockery of this nation, even more so than Florida, by this recall election engineered by a multi-millionaire with nothing better to do.

Before we begin with the details, let’s remove any affiliation with political parties. Both sides of the fence have their share of ignorance, and despite what many people may think I would be against this no matter who was in office. I know very little of current Governor Gray Davis except for what I’ve read regarding this recall.

This saga started earlier this year when the state found itself with an almost 40 billion dollar deficit. Is this the fault of the current Governor? Partly…but let’s take a look at what has gone down in the state over the past couple of years. First we had the tech stock meltdown, causing plenty of bankruptcies and a shattering increase in unemployment. Then we had those bastards in Enron manipulating the energy markets, costing the state anywhere from twenty to forty billion bucks.

And if that wasn’t enough, California has been one of the states that has been referendum-crazy, passing scores of bills and bond issues that costs the state tens of billions of dollars every year. It’s been estimated that Davis only has approximately 10% of the state’s budget to work with every year.

If these details weren’t bad enough for even a great governor, one must also keep in mind that the state has on its payroll a non-partisan financial analyst whose job is to predict the financial health of the state. According to various reports, as late as last fall this person was predicting that the state’s budget would be very close to balanced.

So everything that could go wrong went wrong, and Davis certainly has to take his share of the blame. But that wasn’t good enough for some people who saw an opportunity to eliminate someone not of their ilk. Instead of waiting for the next election to change the guard, this person started a one-man crusade, utilizing an obscenely easy law that only mandates that 12% of the people of the state need to sign a petition to stage a recall.

If you think this is fair, hear me out for a second. Is there any politician anywhere in this country that has a 88% approval rate? Does Bush, Janklow, Daschle, Johnson, Munson, Kant, Staggers enjoy such popularity? Hell no.

And if that California law isn’t silly enough, the rules for a recall were seemingly written by a five year old. One only needs a few dozen signatures plus to find themselves on the recall ballot. Which brings me to the candidates.

The most famous, and supposedly the most popular, is one of the worst actors with the worst accents in movie history. Yes, Arnold Schwartznegger. The admitted dope-smoking, steroid-taking over-the-hill action hero went on Jay Leno’s ass-kissing talk show to announce his candidacy. Did he talk about any issues? Hell no. He just reprised a few of his clichéd movie lines to incite bogus applause…a tactic he’s used in every interview since his entry into the race. Please, please, please. Anyone but Arnold.

Not that the other candidates are any better. Besides an admitted witch, a dog, and a housewife, there are strippers, porn stars, a cheap cigarette chain store owner, former Saturday Night Live writer/actor Don "Father Guido Sarducci" Novello, Hustler Magazine’s Larry Flynt, and Bill Maher’s buddy Arianna Huffington. Oh yeah, and Gary Coleman.

Personally, I’d choose porn star Mary Carey. I found an interview with the star of such acclaimed movies as Cheerleader Pink, Thumpin’ Melons, Decadent Divas 17, and Double Airbags 11. She’s got a lot of great ideas, including taxing breast implants. "From Beverly Hills alone, we should bring in millions in tax revenue", she says. She also wants to make lap dances a tax deductible business expense to help stimulate the economy. She also wants to wire the Governor’s Mansion with live webcams for subscribers, hire porn stars to help negotiate better electricity prices, and start a "Porno for Pistols" program, where gun owners can swap their weapons for X-rated films. "If guys had more orgasms, they’d be less violent," she claims. And her solution for global warming? "Wear less clothes."

Ok, she wouldn’t be the best Governor in the world. But would she be much worse than Ahh-nold?

Finally, here’s what really pisses me off about this whole process. When people go in to vote on this issue, they will first see a page that asks if you want to recall Davis. Regardless of their decision, they then get to choose who they would want to replace him. There are almost 200 people on these pages. Thus, it is possible for Davis to get the support of 49.9% of the voters, yet lose to a person who gets less than 10% of the vote. Seriously, is that fair?

So, California, have your silly little election. But don’t come running to the rest of the country when your new, untested Governor does an even worse job than your predecessor. Maybe you can have another election and pick someone even better. How about choosing between Snoop Dogg, Suge Knight, Drew Barrymore, and this year’s Penthouse Pet of the Year?