Shows are better if they do the nasty well, and dammit, Duckman did the nasty VERY well. That's probably the best compliment our favorite naked, yellow, glasses for eyes, thrust for pelvis, "What the hell are you staring at?", big mouthed duck (man) would ever want.
WILLIAM S. BURROUGHS 1914-1997
While we as school children read Hawthorn, Fitzgerald, Hemingway, and Faulkner, we always dreamed of writers who meant something to us. Writers who didn't suck on the cocks and breasts of the publishing world except for the sheer pleasure of it. Writers who had nothing to lose because they've lost more than they ever could gain back again, so they write with no inhibitions. Writers like William S. Burroughs.
The man had no barriers as we know them. Sex, drugs, reality. He was a slave to them all and yet he found the freedom in all the constraints. His voice was distinct and like no other. It seemed to hover two inches above the floor, and unless you intentionally looked down, you'd miss him entirely. But if you have no problem sitting with your ear near the floor, the truth parents fear their children will learn comes out in the form of an ancient junkie. A medicine man of sorts.
His writing inspired, but it was his life that held the real prize. He spent time with Ginsberg, Ferlinghetti, Leary, and Keruac and taught them all a thing or two. One constant reminder he gave was that The American Dream was a concept made up by men who wanted conformity of the masses. To his dying day, conformity was his anti-Christ. No matter how much he said or did, Burroughs fought the idea of a drug free, thought free society. That's what we'll miss about him. Sure, we'll pull out a copy of Naked Lunch, watch Drug Store Cowboy, and play his taped recordings. A thinker is dead, and nobody thought like Burroughs.
He spent his last days where the our editors spent some of their first: Lawrence, Kansas. His drug using body retired at age 83.
BEAVIS & BUTTHEAD 1992-1997
We wish we could've subverted America like these two assholes. All we could do was watch as they changed the lexicon of young America forever. They were blamed for all of societies evils and still made a shitload of cash from a semi-inspired 75 minute movie. Kids burned down houses, and Beavis had to stop saying, "Fire." Their contribution to society was deliberated in Congress. B & B made fun of the very videos MTV tried to hypnotize with, and praised bands that would've never been big without them (White Zombie in particular). Satirizing the very people who were watching the show, Beavis and Butthead pulled off one of the harder things to do: Make teenagers laugh at themselves. Of course they all started laughing the same way ("Heh, heh, heh."), but at least it was a step in the right direction.
And sure MTV is going to re-run the shows into the millennium, Mike Judge'll probably get around to writing another movie someday (whenever he gets time off from King Of The Hill), and another series by the once-Albuquerquean is said to be in the works for the music channel. Of course, what can you do after changing the world? Hope to hell that people remember what the series was really saying (teens aren't really evil, they're just kinda stupid--I'm sorry ignorant--sometimes), rather than just the way Beavis and Butthead laughed every few seconds.
return to the basement.