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Submit to pulp

May 2001

Download the word version, perfect for printing and handing out on street corners!
In this issue:    Suicide Sandler!     Coping With Satanism!     Doin' it Crankenstyle!     PLUS: Hippie Holocaust!, And a castration-free CULT PICK!.
Rock Rock Rock Rock Rock n Roll Funeral

Well kids, the unthinkable has happened. That's right, pack up your $100 Laredo electric guitars, put away your leather jackets and torn jeans, and start using the modeling glue for the purpose it was originally intended, because the founder of all things rock and roll has passed away. On Sunday, April 15th , at the age of 49, punk rock pioneer Joey Ramone has died in a New York hospital of lymphatic cancer. To some, Joey and his band the Ramones were an inspiration, causing an entire culture to take their lead, pick up a guitar, a microphone and some solvents and rock out in garage bands all over the world. To others, he was an iconic symbol of the violent, anti-establishment, anarchistic political spirit that fueled the punk revolution of the late seventies. To still others, he was merely the ugliest man in America, looking essentially like a 7-foot tall version of the Elephant Man with longer hair. But while some may argue his merits as a performer, musician, and human being, it must be admitted that he was the single most important figure in modern American rock music, and few would disagree that his death is the worst thing that has ever happened in the history of mankind. Ever since their formation in New York in 1975, the Ramones have consistently rocked the socks off anyone who dared attend their blisteringly aggressive, high-speed live shows, while simultaneously boring the pants off anyone who tried to sit through their unbearably slow albums. But despite their meager album sales, the Ramones took the rock world by storm, playing over 2000 live shows before finally calling it quits in 1996 when it became apparent that it's difficult to convincingly belt out the lyrics to Teenage Lobotomy when you're fifty years old and having difficulty getting through the chorus without taking a nap. More mainstream audiences may remember the band from their classic theme song for the Stephen King film Pet Sematery, which the band composed and recorded for the film's soundtrack despite, judging by the lyrics, not actually having seen the movie, but us true fans will always remember the Ramones for penning the songs that defined teenage rebellion, social activism, and leftist anti-authoritarian ideals, such as Bonzo Goes To Bitburg, Rockaway Beach and of course the immortal, deeply moving The KKK Took My Baby Away. Without the lyrics that finally vocalized the turbulent and conflicting emotions of every kid's teenage years (the bittersweet and poetic words to Now I Wanna Sniff Some Glue come immediately to mind) where would all of us who grew up in the late 70s be? Most likely productive members of society, maybe holding a job that requires a suit and tie instead of peddling porn cassettes in a seedy Montreal video store, but where's the fun in that? Well, spending the thousands of dollars you earn with a real job, I suppose, but that's beside the point, which is that the Ramones were cool. They managed to make a career out of playing good ol' fashioned rock and roll, all the while scaring the crap out of parents the world over due to their disheveled appearance and generally incomprehensible speech patterns carried on breath that no doubt reeked of anti-freeze and corn chips. No mere eulogistic article in an immensely popular entertainment newsletter could do Joey Ramone and his cronies justice, so I think that all loyal readers of PULP should take a moment of silence to reflect on the life and times of the man, followed by a moment of retching to vomit up a half-litre of Listerine 'wine' cooler. I know he would have wanted it that way.

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