April 1998

You Canít Fool The Children Of The Revolution. Can You?

I resolve to watch Real Stories Of The Highway Patrol. I resolve to watch Extra, American Journal, and America's Dumbest Criminals. Have you been to Algeria? You know where that is, it's in North Africa. A little while ago some REBELS killed over 400 people there in a small village while they slept. I resolve to watch Baywatch and Friends. We all need some friends. We all need a reason for something. They lock up people who don't have reasons. They call it being 'unreasonable'. Which are you? Frosted or whole wheat?

Lasers. They've got lasers in outer space. For laser surgery. For laser discs. They've got infra-red lasers. For laser tag, for better night vision, for insurgence reassurances. There's a room, way underground, where they know the future, where it's all been decided before hand. They've got accurate maps and detailed intelligence, the cure for Cancer, real cream and not coffee whitener. No one's sure who exactly runs this operation. No one's exactly sure of anything. That's why you're not in charge. Simple.

What would you do if you did know? What would anyone do with the facts if they knew the facts. I call it the Gilligan's Island theory. You'd think that if they could find the time to invent a device that can vaporize an entire city they could find a fat guy, a skinny guy, two complainers, a prude, a tease, and the world's most brilliant scientist. Shit, if you could make a telephone system out of coconuts they'd come looking for you, no doubt about it. But no one could find them. Probably because no one was looking. Maybe because that was the whole point of the show. The fact remains that without the stupidity of it's design it wouldn't exist. Therefore, no one's exactly sure of anything. It's better for you that way. That's why you're not in charge. You might go and do something like change the rules. And we can't be having that now, can we.

Looking back at the Earth from the Moon I am reminded of inadequacies. Of futility and the mistakes of time. I am reminded that it is a small thing in a place of much larger things. It is, after all, one of billions. I am also reminded of an ant farm that I used to have when I was young. It was this little plastic tank filled with dirt. The ants made tunnels. The ants multiplied. Eventually, the ants ate each other. I had forgotten about it. I had left it on a shelf. One day they were all gone. Just a few dead ant bodies. The dirt was all dried up. There are some footsteps on the Moon. Reminders. Fossils for someone to find. The Earth looks small from most places, I would think. Unless you're standing on it, looking up. Then you're the Master of the Universe. Either that or a fool. Flip a coin.

I have no reason to believe that anything is possible. Impossibility is a greater motivational force than probability. The human condition dictates this. And you thought you were upwardly mobile. Silly you.

Quote Of The Month
'They're magically delicious!'

I just got off the phone with Dave. I always read Dave the manifesto before I give it to the computer gurus that facilitate our on-line temple. Dave said it's heavier than usual. Not enough HA-HA. Dave likes the HA-HA. I also like the HA-HA, but have come to live with the fact that everything I say isn't always funny. Don't be confused, funny and funny-looking are two totally different things. One is based on luck. The other is pretty much a given.

I am reminded of funnier times, now that Dave has made me aware of the fact that I'm far too serious for my own good. All those manifestos of the past laced with witty humor and sly jabs of cunning. Oh how I long to be that person again. The wild, care-free me. Now I'm just sugar free. It seems that my dream of living on a tropical island with the Budweiser Girls may not come true.

I suppose my days are numbered then. Everyone loves a clown, I guess. Well, maybe except for scary clowns. No one much likes them at all. Well, maybe except for people who are too serious for their own good. But, then again, I hear they've just past a new law allowing funny people to round them up and ship them off to re-education centers. Which is a good thing, because there's no telling what I could do next.

Your Questions, My Answers.
Dial 1-900-Idiot Savant.

1] For all you under-agers out there in the lower mainland, your request has been granted. We've put together an all-ages event at the Coquitlam Rec Center on the 8th of May. Tickets are cheap, cheap, cheap. So tell your parents you have an overwhelming desire to ROCK. If they still give you shit, tell them to come see me and I'll see what I can do. If you happen to live on the island, or way out in some far reaching wilderness, you could always steal the car and go on an all-weekend bender that will most likely leave you behind bars. But, what the hell, you're only young and stupid once. So there you have it. No more excuses. I'd better see everyone who's given me grief at this show or I'm gonna kick some ass. You've been warned. (Matthew Good and the Matthew Good Band hold no responsibility for any person who actually does steal the car and goes off on a weekend long bender. Though if you do happen to take any pictures please make sure you send us some copies).

2] What are my favorite books of all time you ask? Well, I'll tell you:

A) Anything by Kurt Vonnegut.
B) Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End Of The World by Haruki Murakami
C) Immortality by Milan Kundera
D) My Uncle Oswald and Switch Bitch by Roald Dahl
E) A Bridge Too Far by Cornelius Ryan
F) Snow Crash and The Diamond Age by Neil Stephenson
G) Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka
H) The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien
I) Still Life With Woodpecker and Skinny Legs and All by Tom Robbins
J) Henry V by William Shakespeare, which is technically a historical play, but what the fuck.

3] No, I don't really like playing music for a living. You're right, I'm just in it for the fame and the chicks. I'm sure as a welder you've had your fair share of problems dealing with your skyrocketing popularity, but I'm not the one to ask for advice. I'm too much of a self loather to be of any assistance.

4] Eric Weitzel. It wasn't me. I lived on Cypress street, between Winslow and Foster.

5] Mary, Mary, Mary. Egotistical, eh. Well, thank god I have you acting as my barometer. God only knows what lengths I'd go to. I really don't think too much about what anyone thinks when it comes to what I write in this thing. Just me. As far as giving the people what they want, you'd know better than I, I suppose. And although I can't draw any comparisons between what I write and self gratification, I wonder if anyone out there bothers to ponder the fact that what I say doesn't mean a fucking thing to begin with. (Does it?) It's people that search for the literal that find the literal. And there's one reason why people like Hitler came to power. Self application is a much better principle, don't you think. Or do you?

6] Andrew. Yes, we are a Canadian group.

7] Rachelle in Edmonton. Ian says hi.

8] Mandy. I just write them. The computer gods do the rest.

9] Starr. I used to have one about my friend Corey pushing me off a cliff. Does that help?

10] Adrian Schmidt. Thanks for the drawring.

11] Lindsay Ross. Can you get me a deal on a new Bug or what?