Hello again, Smartass radio’s Michael Jackson correspondent Megan Riebesell here, just checking in to follow up on the status of our dearly beloved.  As we all could have predicted, not even MJ’s passage into eternity could ease the controversy that besieged him all his life.  Back here on earth, we are still picking away at every morsel of flesh that our ugly beaks can scrape off his bones.  People are still making  careers out of revealing any kind of sensitive information they can dig up in his wake, so-called “artists” are  still depending on his legacy for their own shot at celebrity or capital, and the fat, greedy vultures of the world are still milking his hard-earned masterpieces for every pathetic cent they can steal.  However, do not fret, I am here to remind everyone that Michael’s pure soul, which was always too powerful to be contained by a simple human body, has finally reached its proper ranking among the gods, as an immortal presence.  Of course, Michael’s kingdom in the great beyond is immune to the commotion of silly, frantic scavengers still chirping his name down here.  Rest in assurance, MJ smiles down on all of his children still, giggling at our antics.

That being said, skimming through Jacko’s most recent controversy was actually a pretty hilarious and  of course bizarre venture. Where do I even begin?

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Well after much debate, I have decided that, ultimately, my posts are better written in regular ink. These past few months, following the advice of friends, I experimented with writing in invisible ink. The obvious benefits being, a) hey, it saves money and 2) it’s easy on the hand. The drawback: eye straining. Hold on, Charlie’s calling me…

Hey Charlie, how’s it going you douche?
Haha, yeah, I hear THAT.
No, no, I’m ME. That was just something Ricky was spouting. But, yeah, everything’s good here.
No dude, I’m actually writing a blog post right now.
Yeah, SmartassRadio.
Yeah.
Yeah.
No, it’s just music blogs now, but, yeah, Rihanna’s fine.
Well that’s because I stopped writing them for months. I don’t think I’ve written since September or something.
No, I just told everyone I had been using invisible ink, it’s fine.
No, it worked, they bought it.
Charlie, they bought it, OK?
Dude, I don’t know why you’re trying to argue this with me. I told everyone I had been writing with invisible ink. That explains the hiatus.
How should I know how that’s possible? It’s just some digital invisible ink.
Yes, I know there are no lemons.
Yes.
Yes.
I know.
Thank you Charlie, I understand the situation.
Listen you douche I have to go.
It’s going to be about Kanye fucking West, happy?
Kanye West. The rapper.
No, it’s not about “the Taylor Swift shit,” no one is still talking about “the Taylor Swift shit”?
No, they’re not Charlie.
Charlie, you moron, if anyone is still making jokes about Kanye West yelling at Taylor Swift they are fucking out of the loop.
What loop? You really are dumb Charlie. The metaphoric loop of high society.
Yes.
No, I speak in metaphors all the time.
I do.
Yeah, I’m a rocket science at it.
I know that was the joke.
Anyway, I have to go.
No, I can’t.
OK, you have two seconds.
That was like seven minutes Charlie, I said two seconds.
No, I understand point though. It is a sick album.
This week I’ve been listening to this new album. It’s a collaboration between The Black Keys and all these different rappers called Blakroc.
Like Mos Def, Jim Jones, RZA. Ludacris is actually on the first track.
It’s funny, but the track kind of sucks.
No, the rest of the album is really good. I liked it.
So, yeah, that. I think me and my friend Felix are actually going to review it later. So that will probably get up on the site.
Other than that? The new Animal Collective EP is really good, but I wouldn’t really review that for the site.
I don’t know, it’s just not something I would do.
I don’t know, I don’t really want to write an actual review of an album I think is great.
Well the Blakroc thing is going to be fun and funny too. I don’t usually write seriously for the site.
More like joke stuff.
Yeah, they’re like half-music, half-joke blogs usually.
I actually haven’t come up with the jokes for this Kanye shit, I will though.
No, that’s it. I’m going to write it now. Good-bye.
Bye Charlie.

Hey everyone, sorry about that. That was my friend Charlie. He just wanted to know what time I’m going to Courtney’s. Well here’s the answer: never, because Courtney has swine flu and I don’t need to deal with that shit.

Anyway, on a completely unrelated note, I know there have been some rumors about me. Particularly, a set of rumors being circulated by one Mr. Rick Pachachsky. I don’t want to give this issue anymore “air time” than it deserves, which is frankly zero, but let me just wrap up this paragraph by saying, once and for all, I am not a paid actor playing the role of “Roy.” I am just one person. There is not some “idea” of “Roy” that different actors have been playing since 2001. I am not an experimental performance piece. I am just a single individual.

On a second completely unrelated note that has been brought to my attention in a very similar way, I know there have been some rumors about me. Particularly, a set of rumors that I began circulating last Valentine’s Day. I don’t want to give this “issue” anymore air time than it “deserves,” but let me just say: Yes, Rihanna and I are doing fine.

OK, now that we have taken care of that housekeeping, so to speak, let me get down to business: As you undoubtedly glanced by from the title of this music article, I will be discussing some new leaked inside information about Kanye West’s upcoming album. This information, for a series of complicated reasons, is very exclusive and I would imagine this is the only news source that has the dubious scoop:

Kanye’s next album, “Lust,” will contain eleven new tracks and comes out December 25th.

Pretty interesting information. Personally, I’m excited to learn more about this project. Particularly, I would like to know if anyone could possibly verify those facts for me? Let me also take this time to emphasize an important, but completely unrelated point, I am not a music journalist. So, this new Kanye album is going to be awesome.

Hello all: In our efforts to provide an ever-better site for you, the crew here at SAR INC has decided to make another web-page revamp. However, this time the site change isn’t cosmetic, it’s content based. If you are a long time follower you probably remember our first content change. Initially the site was just metal music interviews, but in an effort to broaden our horizons we started writing about anything we wanted with no real continuity (aside from authorship) between posts.

Well, after punching the numbers, DJ suggested that we may have made too big of a jump. Apparently moving from very specific to infinitely undefined didn’t help us establish the regular foundation of readers we’ve been looking for.

It makes sense if you give it even a half-second of thought. When I do my rounds of the internet I make my stops in very categorized ways. E-mail, social networking site, indie-music blog, celebrity gossip news, fake-news, entertainment site….etc.

So how do you categorize SmartassRadio?

Well, it’s a frankenstein monster of things DJ and I find hilarious and/or noteworthy. Which would be fine, if DJ and I were an established brand of humor. But alas, outside of our group of friends, we are not.

So, in order to make the site more directed, legitimate and (hopefully) visited, we’ve decided to say that from now on: we’re a vegetable-porn music-based website.

It’s not a tremendous change really…I’d say we’re already 75% music-based, but from now on you won’t be seeing any more posts like, “What Angelina Jolie Would Be Thinking If She Drove By Me While I Was Running One Of My Intermittent Three Mile Runs”

(I mean let’s be honest, if Angelina Jolie drove by me while I was running one of my intermittent three mile runs she would probably just think, “Wow that guy looks terrific, I’d like to give him a massage” and then she’d just start thinking of something else.)

Of course, this doesn’t mean we’ll be abandoning humor (if that’s what you want to call this). We’re just saying, “HEY, all these posts are about music.” Connections. Full circle.

So, that’s the announcement as announced by me. Why am I announcing it? Why don’t I just make the change without informing the readers explicitly?

Well, that’s the SAR difference. We put ourselves on the same level as our delicious readers. Does Billboard make these kind of personal announcements? No, Billboard.com is written by a robot. Would Pitchfork be this gracious? No, they would just make fun of you for not realizing that they are just called Pitchfork now instead of Pitchfork Media. Would some snobby-blog be this up-front? No, they’d just post some shitty mp3s, provide some tour dates, give a lousy review of a lousy album and call it a day.

So, that’s it. You might be seeing some more reoccurring segments now (I’m planning one called “Rewinding with Roy”) and of course the podcast and interviews will be going strong!

As always dear reader, comment if you have any suggestions, because our real goal is to become a pleasant stop on your internet hit parade.  And to continue rocking, but that has never been a problem.

Many of you may not know this, but I’m a pretty well-read guy. I’m not implying I’ve read any particular library of classic books – I’ve made it a point to never read a single Charles Dickens book no matter how many I was assigned throughout high school, I have a particular disdain for Ernest Hemmingway and, frankly James Joyce can suck my hog (I assume based solely on his name that he’s of the homosexual persuasion). However, I do read the news every day. The real news. The New York Times – not Metro NY, The Post, anything posted on CNN or any of that other silly hogwash. (Morris Day and) The Motherfucking Time(s). That shit is the MAD notes!

Anyway, I was reading an article yesterday about Michael Jackson’s memorial (Michael Jackson: The Memorial, rather) and I came to a phrase that was totally worthy of a tweet, however Twitter tells me “Arrow_on_red” and to “watch a video,” which I never do.  So, unable to share this hilarity in my normal manner for quips of such insignificance, I decided to let it stir for an entire day and be evacuated from my body in a long form post. My original tweet will be followed by my elaboration:

yesterday the ny times referred to the michael jackson memorial as an ‘orgy of mourning’ http://bit.ly/ZSqkY sounds like an awful goth band

(Note how I refuse to use proper punctuation for my tweets.)

Indeed, Alessandra Stanley decided to equate the ramblings of a bunch of aging stars and the sobbing of a child to a sex act involving three or more people. For this, I cannot fault her. I’m almost positive it’s the first time I’ve ever laughed while reading the Times – unfortunately for me, I was drinking hot coffee and ended up with second degree burns inside my nose, but that’s neither here nor there. What I can fault her for, is the exact words she used. An orgy of mourning carries a ton of possible connotations. For one, had her left pinky slipped and hit the shift key, she would have ended up with an “orgy of Mourning,” conjuring images of retired Miami Heat basketball star Alonzo Mourning having all kinds of kinky sex with other people with the last name Mourning.

Pimp.

As my tweet above will inform you, though, this was not my initial reaction. At first, I thought it sounded like a bad high school “goth” band. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure what the term goth actually means. In middle school I know we used to call anyone who listened to KoRn goth. I don’t think I used it in high school, but if I did, I’m relatively certain it was in reference to the fat asses who watched Anime (and by association Hentai). In college, I realized both the definitions were wrong as I became more entrenched in what I know as “metal” and listened to idiot girls refer to other idiot girls who happened to be wearing a black t-shirt as goth.

Now, I tend to associate it with darker rock acts and (at the risk of upsetting either a frigheningly fat or skinny mongrel of an outcast) some more feminine black metal acts and people who still insist on wearing trench coats and ponytails. (Ghaal, I’m looking directly at you.) With that, let me set the scene for how Orgy of Mourning came to be:

Greg Schmidt (or Devastatorious as he liked to be called, not realizing how retarded and off-base it was) was a skinny lad, aged 15. At one time, he was very much into N*SYNC, but never told anyone. As a direct result, he was driven head first by the denial of his own homosexuality to black metal. First it was just once in a while, when he was bored of his Metallica CDs, but with the advent of high speed Internet and P2P networks, he found he needed to own and know everything about every band ever, which brought him to his current position in life – trolling message boards, blogs and news sites to point out whenever someone forgot to mention the latest Abigail Williams release.

One particularly rainy afternoon, Devastatorious was ham-handedly playing something resembling a ham-handed Mayhem song on his Line6 Pod Pro, which he got on eBay for “like half of list price.” As he came to what some would call a chorus, his buddy Mike Shea (Khhal for our purposes) came running down with a great idea, “Let’s start our own band!” Of course, this sounded like a great idea to Devastatorious. “Ok, well first things first – we need a totally bitchin’ name,” he explained.

“Well, yeah of course. What should we call ourselves?”
“The most dark and hardcore thing ever.”
“Nothing was darker than when my mother mourned the loss of Sprinkles (the shivering family Teacup Something or other).”
“Fuck yeah, the idea of mourning is deep as hell.”
“What else should we include?”
“How about something sexual? Not because we’ll end up having sex six months from now, or anything.”

As he said this, Greg shot a look to the right to avoid eye contact with his new bandmate. Mike continued looking at him awkwardly for a moment before breaking the silence:

“This might not be cool, but check it out.”
“Ok”
“Remember that totally gay band from back in the day Orgy.”
“Yea, they suck.” No they don’t, he thought to himself.
“Well, how about we take ‘Orgy’ back and make it cool again?”

As if they had both sprung rods simultaneously, Greg and Mike looked up from their in-progress black painted nails and exclaimed triumphantly:

“ORGY OF MOURNING!”

-END-

And that’s how I imagined that going.

It’s my understanding that we have a lot of international readers. So for their benefit, I’ll briefly describe what we in American call an “election.” You see, once every few years, when hack comedians run out of bad jokes about our beloved president, another man challenges his throne. Then we watch “pundits” bicker about the merits of these two men on TV for about three years. When the American people decide they can’t take it anymore, the men choose other men as their partners through civil union and the pundits argue about the partners’ merits for another six months or so. Finally, if the groundhog doesn’t see its shadow, three states get to choose who our next president will be. This year, the man who won wore black face in tribute to the great minstrels of our country’s glorious past. Of course, he’s not any different than you or me or the last president, for that matter.

Apparently they’re holding erections in Iran now- Did I jus- HAHAHAHAHAHA. OHHHHH WHEW! Wow… that was crazy. Iran is holding elections over there now. As with any election, this one has had its fair share of problems. Held on Friday(?), the elections were really important, I guess. According to some reliable sources, Iran has been fucking around with nuclear weapons, or something. Unlike in the good old US of A, the Iranians couldn’t choke down the cold hard facts. Instead of realizing that they are a silly display not unlike the WWE, Iranians expected the words “change” and “hope” to actually mean something. It’s like they believe every movie they see over there. In their defense, there are only three movies available in Iran and they’re all documentaries.

You really want the Iranian Steven Spielberg running your country? Didn’t you see the last Indiana Jones?

So, in an unprecedented display of machismo and huge fucking nuts (being the opposite of giant, crying, pussy), Presidential Candidate Mir Hossein Moussavi claimed the elections were rigged in favor of current President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. To be honest, I don’t see it. I mean President Ahmadinejad did get 62% of the vote (a total of 13 voters made up mostly of his own staff) versus 33% for Moussavi and the obligatory 5% of crazies split between Ron Paul and Ralph Nader.  Mr. Moussavi, you should be ashamed of yourself. Seriously, your country is suffering from riots, its citizens are having their rights taken away and war with a super power is imminent and all you can think about is how you didn’t win an election? What are you going to tell me next, that this Pall Mall 100 isn’t going to soothe my sore throat? Puh-lease!

You see, here in America, we accept the harsh truth that a puppet government forces us to – we have no control over what happens ever. So what? You want to be burdened with making decisions which might affect someone other than yourself? Say Moussavi got elected and turned out to be a total nutjob and didn’t wear pants to work every day. You want to be responsible for that? Didn’t think so. A wise ex-English teacher once taught me a valuable lesson: the devil you know is better than the devil you don’t. Which generally holds true, unless that devil has demonstrated his inability to lead or string together coherent thoughts time and time again, James.

This guy gets shit done.

The point is this – it doesn’t matter and it never will. In fact, I’m fairly certain that every event I just mentioned was entirely fabricated by the media for their own amusement. No shit. For instance, I caught Anderson Cooper saying the following at dinner the other night:

We make everything up. There are more factual events taking place on Spike’s Deadliest Warrior.

I may or may not have actually heard that at dinner the other night. Come to think of it, I’ve never even met Anderson Cooper, but I did once hear his voice set to ominous music in a documentary on Google Video, so he might as well have been sitting in my living room revealing all his dirty, silver haired secrets, of which I’m sure there are many. According to some of his peers, that old queen hides a secret about as well as an elephant hides its trunk.

In the end, what will probably happen is the American people will once again be forced to watch the same view of the Missile Command championships in night-vision on CNN, ABC, NBC, Fox, CBS (yeah, assholes, you got listed after Fox), and a plethora of other shit-stain networks as our country bombs the fuck out of Iran for one reason or another. After two weeks of that, it’ll probably be football season and, frankly, most of us can’t be bothered – with the way the league is shaping up this year (what drama!), who could even blame us? Football rules and Iran drools.

After what felt like three months without a post we’re back with a killer interview. To celebrate completing school my girl and I went on one of the most metal tears ever. My last day of class was 5/6/09 and I capped it with an extreme performance by GWAR at the Chance in Poughkeepsie then after a night of debauchery with Frank we were off to NYC. On Friday, we caugh the No Fear Energy Music Tour with Lamb of God, As I Lay Dying (who definitely deserve a new found respect from me), Children of Bodom (who only played three songs – Alexi “Avian Bone Syndrome” Laiho destroyed his shoulder and couldn’t perform) and God Forbid. On Sunday we were able to see Mastodon perform Crack the Skye at the Williamsburgh Theater in Brooklyn – if you have the opportunity, you have to go.

But Saturday is truly the important night right now. I had the opportunity to sit down with Protest the Hero guitarist Tim Millar and got a great interview. Tim was a great guy and the staff at the Blender Theater was one of the best I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. Being in the midst of the most metal weekend I’ve ever had, I didn’t have too much time to prepare so please bear with the interview as I stumble through the first few questions. Also worth noting is the fact that Roy coming to the interview wasn’t ever even an option, so I don’t know why I felt it necessary to say he “pussed out.” I’m a horrible friend. Below is the interview and a flash gallery. After the jump is another gallery if you have trouble with this one and a transcription of some of the highlights.

Click here for .mp3

Lorraine took all the pictures, which you can see kick an insane amount of ass.

protest_the_hero_16.jpg

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There is a ton of evidence stacking up against me and it’s high time I acknowledge it. I’m becoming a piece of white trash human garbage. In the four years since I’ve left High School, I have absolutely let the semi-freedom of college destroy me as a person. While, I’m very comfortable with the latest incarnation of me, I think it’s important to look back at where I came from.

Here’s the earliest picture of me on Facebook:

Look at this sweet boy with his girlfriend enjoying a delicious lollipop after a day at the mall. Oh, look he has a Metallica cap on. You bought it where? Hot Topic? Precious.

I dare you to follow the jump and keep reading.

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