ok, like heres the interviews with jello that andy asked me to post, 'cause he can't. please follow-up with any questions to him (AREBOLD@vax.clarku.edu) instead of me... thanks, pogo what the fuck is this, cultural day in dildohead? who cares, speak whatever language you want. anyway, here's those two jello interviews i got from alt.thrash. steam pms i've never met a flea i didn't like. This is an interview I did with Jello Biafra - Jan. '81 TC - When did the band form? JB - We formed in San Francisco although we don't originally come from there and we played our first gig on July 19th 1978, after being together a week. TC - What was that like? JB - It was great fun. Because of the name a few people turned up to see just what the bottom of the bill support band would be like. We were the first band in San Francisco to cause a lot of chaos for quite a while. In those days there were so few people at the gigs you could jump through them. You could run past the people at the front to the people who were drinking at the back, sitting at tables and you could knock over the tables and shampoo them with cigarette butts and things, pour beer over them. Oh, those were the days... TC - Who first influenced you to form a band? JB - A lot of things. Walter Mitty, if you know who he is? TC - No. JB - He's a fictitious character from America who spends all of his time dreaming about things he wishes he was. He's a fighter plane pilot, at another point he's a surgeon, things like that. Well, we've all got a Walter Mitty influence. Plus the Ramones. They played this Country and Western club in Denver, and the audience were scared shitless. I loved every minute of it. It was in Jan. '77. I loved all the energy they had and there weren't any guitar solos. It sort of hit me, I should do this, I could do this. I don't have to lock myself in a closet for 10 years and then come out and imitate Jimi Hendrix after all. I went to England that summer and saw some more bands, came back and I was in California and going to San Francisco at weekends to see punk bands. They were about 6 months behind the English bands. I could see bands picking up instruments for the first time and learning to play in public. I thought this would be a good place to form a band. So I quit school and went back to Balder where my parents lived, worked in a nursing home and washed very dirty linen, got some money and went back, slowly and surely help put the band together. It was actually Ray, the guitarist who put the band together. He put a little ad in a store "Guitarist wants to form punk band" so I rang him up, we got some songs together in the garage. Then we got this guy called Klaus to play bass and eventually, a week before our first gig we got a guitarist who called himself 6025 and he left about 6 months later. TC - How do American audiences differ to British ones? JB - Lets see...For the audiences I saw over here I think, at times the American ones are wilder. Which is good and bad because some- times they're into the bad side of violence instead of the good way, in that they're into kicking shit out of each other. They get bopped around like human pinballs. That's great fun. It's the difference between pogoing and fighting I guess. TC - You've had some trouble with your name over here, is it worse in America? JB - Quite a bit. Our album hasn't even come out over there. We played on the 15th anniversary of John F. Kennedys murder and the local paper turned up and had an outcry. TC - How did you first get your records out over here? JB - There was a few of the original 'California Uber Alles' that got shipped over here and somehow John Peel gotta hold of it and he played it a bit and Bob Last from Fast was staying at this guys house who he knew in New York and he just happened to put Dead Kennedys on the turntable and he liked it, so he called us up and wanted to put us out on Fast. That was really lucky. A fluke! It could have been 1 of 50 bands from America who were equally deserving. We're very grateful to Bob Last. We would have stayed with them but we wanted to do an album rather than keep releasing singles and E.P's. Cherry Red were the only label in the world willing to give us enough money even to put out a low budget album. TC - Are there many punk bands starting up in America? JB - There's lots of them. I would say since '77 there's been about 150 good punk singles or like good art singles as opposed to shitty ones Oh well, let's reel of some names...ones that are together, that are real good are...Flipper from S.F., who basically sound like Lou Reed's 'Metal Machine Music' album with vocals and a beat and they drive people to the same sort of mania as punk bands, but they call themselves pet rock instead of punk rock. There's 2 more pet rock bands called the Wounds and the Animal Things. The Wounds are really good but I've not seen the Animal Things which is embarrassing as I know every one in the band. TC - Are there many places to play? JB - A few. There's a lot of clubs that call themselves new wave skinny tie pop bands. I'll just mention a few more names of bands, Black Flag who have a single and a 12" ep, D.O.A. from Vancouver who are great. They have two 4 track ep's, 2 singles and an album out at this point. Subhumans also from Vancouver, the Government from Terado, the Misfits, the Mad and 8 Eyed Spy from New York. No Alternative from S.F., the Mutants, the Contractions, the Units are a really good electronic band. The Circle Jerks, you'd love them. They pay as much attention to commercial slickness as Discharge. There's a lot of bands that have a lot of trash appeal like Discharge. I like Discharge a lot. They reminded me of the Germs. The Plugs, The Go-Go's. TC - They're a ska band, aren't they? JB - No, they aren't ska. They're a type of 60's influenced pop rock but not like whimpo Elvis Costello type pop. They write real good songs. TC - Do you get much trouble from the police at your gigs? JB - Yes. It just happens to depend on the venue and who are playing when the police shut it down. Most venue's, especially rented halls have trouble staying open for more then 4 or 5 months because of the cops. TC - Is it as hard over here? JB - So I've heard. TC - Have you had any of your gigs stopped? JB - Paris, they pulled the plug on us both nights at 10 because the cops came around. There's going to be more trouble because of Reagen. If our album hasn't even come out over there and if it don't come out before Reagen takes office, it never will. TC - Would you rather live in England then America? JB - It all depends. There's some things I like about America better and some things are worse than over here. America is less crowded, which is a good thing and there's more of an extreme change of scenery. If you ever run into mountains, they're gonna be big mountains. You never know, we might have to live over here if Reagen goes too far, but if he starts a war I guess you guys will get dragged into it, lucky you. TC - Uuuuggg, run out of questions, do you want to rabbit on? JB - What should I say...there is nowhere as near as many fanzines in America as there are in England, but there's this guy who lives just below me and he does this fanzine called Creep. It covers bands and deals with political scenes. It covers what's happening rather than the theory. It covered the riots at city hall, San Francisco, after this gay politician was let off with man slaughter even though he'd shot the S.F. mayor and a gay politician. He shot them dead. But he was an ex-cop, a hero. His defence was that he had eaten too many pinkies, which is an American pastry, therefore he was temporarily insane and the jury believed him, so that night the gay community and a lot of punks, went down to city hall, broke a load of windows and burnt a lot of cop cars, and our album cover is from the riots and shows the cars burning. TC - What are your political views? JB - Well, lets nummerize the B volume of the encyclopaedia in 2 sentences Well I guess I'm closest to an anarchist. I basically try to take the issues as they come. The Indians are real close to an anarchist society being able to make it work. It would be hard to make it work in an area as large as England. Let's see what else I can talk about...One of the nicest things about being in a band is that you can shout your mouth off and complain about things for a living. One of the reasons we're in the band is that we're mentally unfit for work. Here's an interview with Jello Biafra I was shown recently and, since I am an oaf and have nothing but time on my hands (and maybe a little dirt), I decided to type it up for (hopefully) the enjoyment of others! ----------------------------------------------------- (from _Thrasher_ magazine, January 1991. This was copied without permission.) T: How old are you now? JB: Thirty-two. T: What's your favorite American band of all time? JB: The Stooges, as far as what they did over a fifteen or twenty year period. T: Elaborate a bit about the origins of your music. JB: I got hooked on rock and roll in the second grade. I discovered a used record store in high school that would give away anything they didn't think they could sell. I took every single record in the free bin every day for three years. I got all the Doors records in six weeks, the Seeds, 13th Floor Elevator. I got MC5 albums for quarters. _Fun House_ by the Stooges for 10 cents sealed. When I hit on the Stooges I was hooked. That was what communicated to me. At the same time I was real depressed because I knew the Stooges weren't around anymore and music was the only thing that really made me happy. Contrary to what the Washington Wives would like people to think about music causing kids to commit suicide, seeing the Ramones live in Denver probably prevented me from committing suicide. I was out of high school. I hated everything, especially myself and my options for the future. A few friends and I knew what the Ramones were about and went down to see them in Denver in January 1977. They came out, Johnny played one chord and the whole audience was horrified. I looked around and thought, this is going to be great. The Ramones were the most powerful thing I had ever seen. I got a sense that anybody could do this. I could do this. So then the plotting began. Me and some friends screwed around in my parents' living room when no one was home and called ourselves the Healers. I got every punk rock single I could get ahold of. Over the summer I went to Europe and saw bands. Unfortunately, being a creature of habit, I only saw bands that I had heard of and ignored bands like Flowers on the Streets for the Cortina's and the X-Ray Specs. I realized that the English scene had tons of bands, but America didn't. Then it was time to go to UC Santa Cruz. Oh great, a hippie school where they don't give people grades, an alternative to the bullshit educational system. Just what I wanted. Instead, I found a school of mostly deadheads who were more into smoking pot than learning anything. I was reluctant to give up my hippie duds and long hair. It meant so much to me because I was the first one to grow it out in sixth grade, but I was the first person at UC Santa Cruz to chop it all off. One night, while blasting the Sex Pistols and emptying the rest of the dorm hallway, I cut off my long hair, put it in a plastic bag and nailed it to the outside of my dorm door along with my pin up photos of Son of Sam. On weekends, me and another friend began going to San Francisco to check out the local punk scene. The first night we got to the Mabuhay Gardens, the CBGB's of the west, we realized after we'd paid to get in that we got there on heavy metal night. This guy dressed in 1977 punk garb was making faces at the metal bands and trying to distract them in any way he could. He turned out to be Will Shatter and he invited us to a party the next night with the Avengers playing in a basement. Complete mayhem the whole night. I was going, "Yeah, this is what matters here." So, I decided, well, time to drop out of school. In retrospect, when you think about it, what a stupid, naive thing to do. But, there you go. I went back to Boulder and got a job doing really dirty laundry in a nursing home until I had enough money to move back. I was going to acting school out here for a while. I knew I could perform, and I knew that none of the other bands in San Francisco were into theatrical performances at that time. So, maybe there was room for me. I answered an ad at Aquarius Records, "Guitarist wants to join or form punk or new wave band." That was Ray. Klaus then answered the same ad, and we began to play. We figured we had enough songs to get a gig. We lied to Dirk Dirksen, claimed we had a drummer. We made up a fake press biography, had a photo taken with a friend I had met at a Screamer show standing in as a drummer. Dirk gave us a gig. We had a week to go, no drummer, then Bruce Slesinger turned up. My friend Carlos' band broke up that week, so we added him as a second guitarist named 6025. So, when we debuted opening for the Offs and Negative Trend, we had been together one week. Dead Kennedys are born. T: How about that name? JB: A couple of people I knew in Colorado thought it was a great band name, but they didn't dare use it. Strangely, there was another band called the Dead Kennedys playing in Cleveland at the time. They changed their name to Public Enema because they couldn't get any gigs. My first proposal for the band was to call it Thalidomide. They didn't like Thalidomide so I proposed Dead Kennedys and they liked that even less. But I began mentioning it to people I knew, like people in the Avengers and Dils. They all did a doubletake, whether they liked it or hated it. I immediately knew that this name draws strong emotions. Ray wanted to call the band The Sharks, but by that time we couldn't get rid of the Dead Kennedys. Of all the names of bands that I've written down since then, none tops that one as far as unmitigated gall goes. That was great in a way; it meant that major labels stayed away from us. So, I couldn't wind up finding myself outvoted by the band wanting to sign with RCA or something. That was thankfully out of the question. T: Why Dead Kennedys? JB:What it wound up meaning to me and the band, was the beginning of the end of the American Empire and of the American Dream. The beginning of the Me Generation, yuppie bullshit, cynicism that you find even worse today than it was when we picked the name and began talking about this very same problem. The people didn't have a word for yuppie then, but the problem was there and we knew it. People gave up on themselves, cocooning, in other words, figuring that since the President got blown away by outside forces, and Nixon is a crook, and Martin Luther King and Robert got shot, well, I might as well be out for myself and be a crook too. It's all I can do, just feather my own nest and build my own little cocoon. That's how you have the cycle of greed and sheer stupidity today. Ray came up with the analogy of the shattering of the American dream. You read back in the magazines before Kennedy was killed, it was all, "Atomic age astro dreamworld, movie star president, good-looking wife. Great! America is just going to get better and better and better and we're going to have more appliances to make us more and more comfortable. Wow!" Bang! All gone in one second. It didn't happen all at once, of course. I think that what really got the whole yuppie syndrome started more than anything else was the Kennedy killings. Therefore, Dead Kennedys. If you're going to try and tackle a problem, even just as an artist saying something about it, you might as well go to the roots. T: What lead up to your first single, "California Uber Alles" and "Man with the Dogs"? JB: We recorded an earlier tape that never came out because the producer got mad at us for not letting him mix the band any way that he wanted to. Kind of ironic, because I listen back to those earlier tapes now and it sounds almost like early Joy Division or something. We were slower, a five-piece band, and had a dreamy sense that wasn't there as much later. I knew early on that we would go with other independent labels and stay militarily independent. That's what punk rock gave us, the ability to take the chances and turn into Flipper, The Birthday Party, whatever. I've kept up with a lot of stuff. One thing that's maintained the fan in me and not turned me into a cynical musical yuppie bureaucrat clap puncher is that I'm always after something fresh that blows me against the wall and makes me want to bounce through the windows, bounce off of the walls, run down the street and burn down a bank or something. T: What happened after your first single? JB: We took the time to do the single right and get it to sound really nasty and jump off of the record loud. Nobody knew how to record this kind of music, especially not in America, where engineers are trained to record smooth, ECM Jazz style. Part of what put us on the map was that nobody had done anything like "Holiday in Cambodia" or "California Uber Alles." We figured that we would probably do more than on record at that point. Then we kind of hit some bad times. We lost 6025 and couldn't find a suitable guitarist. I was getting very discouraged. At that point, I had kind of made up my mind to quit when we got home unless the single took off. Lo and behold, it went beyond any of our wildest dreams after that. It even got released in England, which everybody in town had wanted for their record and nobody got. By sheer fluke, the guy booking Hurrah's in New York got a copy of the record and he played it for Bob Last at Fast Records in Scotland, where up until then they were considered a really crucial cult label. What better luck could we have. By the time it was released, I was running for mayor of San Francisco. T: Why mayor of San Francisco? JB: Why not? I guess, basically, not knowing not to do it. Not knowing how weird or how hard it would be. I was probably inspired more than anything by people like John Link, who was the first hippie to run for city council in Boulder. After he came in second to last, he said, "Hey, even a creep like me got a thousand votes." I was still pretty new in town, and I realized that I was old enough to run for Mayor. You have to be twenty-six to drive a cab in San Francisco, but at eighteen, you can run a whole town. What the fuck. I was twenty-one. Our old drummer said that I had such a big mouth that I should run for Mayor. I thought, why not? While watching Pere Ubu at the Waldorf, I was staggering around telling everyone that I was running for mayor. After that night, I couldn't back out. I wrote most of my platform on a napkin that night. I figured out that I had to go get petitions, so there i was begging people to register to vote, so they could sign my petition legally to get me on the ballot. A lot of luck I had that way. I was ready to give up when Dirk Dirksen from the Mabuhay, smelling lots of fun in the future, told me not to quit, that we would have a benefit to raise money and buy my way onto the ballot. You can do that in this town if you don't have enough signatures. We raised the money and with about ten minutes to spare, I got on the ballot. I was there at City Hall, on the floor, writing out my platform for the voters pamphlet, trying to cross it out to limit it to the proper number of words, news people with cameras were all around us. I turned it in, and then out comes the voters pamphlet. Next to all of the lies and jive of Mayor Dianne Feinstein, was Jello Biafra; Occupation: Punk Rocker. "If Mayor, I will ban all cars from the city limits. Make police run for reelection, voted on by the neighborhoods that they patrol. Legalize squatting in the buildings left vacant for tax write-off purposes." which was a direct barb at the owner of the San Francisco Giants, who left the JC Penney building at Fifth and Market vacant while homeless people slept in the doorways. Proposition 13 had just passed. Five thousand city employees had just been laid off. I proposed letting all of them panhandle to raise the money back that the city lost in Proposition 13 on a fifty-percent commission. It was a lot of work. It was worth it. We spent $1500 and came in fourth out of ten people, ahead of candidates who had spent as much as sixty grand. We caused enough of an uproar that the candidate who finished second, Quentin Kopp, of the board of supervisors, rammed through a resolution saying that nobody could run for public office unless they use their Christian same. Saying, "We're tired of people like Sister Boom Boom and Jello Biafra humiliating candidates who spent tens of thousands of dollars on their campaigns." Which was the whole idea. This is a guy whose name is Quentin Kopp. The first time that I saw that name, I fell on the floor laughing not even realizing how ridiculous he was in person. T: How did you come up with Jello Biafra? JB: First I called myself Occupant, but everybody confused it with Resident. This had to change real fast; we were playing our first show in a week. If you're going to analyze it after the fact, I guess I like the collision of the plastic American culture of Jell-O colliding with the squalor and starvation image of Biafra. T: What was Biafra? JB: The countries in Africa are divided by European boundaries. A lot of these countries were formed irrespective of cultural boundaries, meaning many different ethnic groups and tribes who have had rivalries for hundreds of years are stuck in the same country. The Ibo Tribe of Nigeria declared themselves an independent country called Biafra. Nigeria fought back, with the help of British and American aid, by cutting off the entire food supply to Biafra and starving them to death. T: So back to the DKs history... JB: Because "California Uber Alles" did well in England, we were able to make more records, release them over there, and in a rare first, go play over there. Over we went, on the crest of a wave of media hype, although, most of the publicity was bad. Because they lambasted us for playing punk, two generations of punks in England jumped on us immediately. They were hungry for raw primal music, no matter where it came from. Granted, there was some great shit going on in England; Crass, Bauhaus, Gong of Four, Discharge was just starting. When talking with these people I realized how much it would mean to them if I could get them all to hear Black Flag, DOA, and all of the bands that we took for granted over here. They were in many ways more confrontational, powerful, more insane than what was going on in England. For example, in England, Joy Division would write dignified lyrics about getting ready to commit suicide. In America, you had the Germs. That was the difference between the two cultures. It occurred to me that a compilation album would be great over there. The agent who booked our first European tour, Bill Gillian, had the idea to rehash the Alternative Tentacles label. At the time _Let Them Eat Jellybeans_ came out, hardly anybody in England wanted to know about American bands. Either it was from England, and it was cool, or it was nothing. The first people who picked up on _...Jelly Beans_, ironically, were Americans buying imports and people in places like Finland, Italy, and Germany. We went back a year later and guess whose underground scenes we had exploded? I would say the biggest impact of the Dead Kennedys was not in America, it was in Central Europe. That was where we had more effect on the culture than anywhere. Hardly any English bands had ever played in Germany, let alone Italy or Finland or Sweden. We did for them what the Ramones did for me. T: Talk a bit about Dirk Dirksen. JB: He was a behind the scenes guy who had access to the Mabuhay Gardens and decided to book punk rock. I'm not sure of his exact history. I think that he worked on _Bewitched_ and game shows. I think he was a lawyer once. He was a road manager for the Doors at one time. He claims he spent the night in jail in Florida instead of Morrison during that bust. He had a major hand in things with Dead Kennedys. He was a sort of father figure. Originally, he just semi-reluctantly booked our band. He would book anybody who was new, underground. He would try anything. You've got to give him credit for that. T: Do you consider your music and your lyrics a form of journalism? JB: Yeah. I deliberately pick subjects that people haven't covered in the way I see them. The spoken word tapes are even more intense in that regard. It's like a nonstop barrage of information about why our lives are the way they are, and what they can do about that. Nine times out of ten my message is, just say no to this bullshit I'm satirizing. A very easy thing, yet it's made to look so hard by our schools, media, churches, et cetera. We also though of our music as being a great prank. When the opportunity arose and we were invited to crash the political conventions we though, why not, Rock against Reagan. We went to Dallas for the Republican convention. That was the heavier one because right when we started to play, all of the conventioneers filed out of the hall after triumphantly renominating Reagan and Bush. Stay the course, as they said then, more rip offs, more apathy, more lies, more greed, more fundamentalist Christianity creeping into the legal system. Here they are coming out of the convention and twenty yards away is a band with one mike leading the crowd in a chant of... well, I figured, what what will get to these people the most and let them know what we feel about them? "US out of El Salvador," yes, they need to know that , but they won't understand that; they'll figure it's jut a bunch of stupid people who aren't afraid of communists. We just got the whole crowd to yell "Fuck you" to them, over and over again until they'd fled the convention site. T: How about the demise of the Dead Kennedys? JB: Well, that I'm not as eager to go into, because everybody has their side on that. Let's just say we broke up in 1986 and there are no plans to reform. I don't want to get stuck on the punk nostalgia retread circuit, which is why I've taken so much time to pursue things like spoken word, acting, collaborations with other people, visual art, no more censorship. I don't want to get stuck at 35 years old with no skills except being a retired rock musician. It would be a painfully whorish and humiliating life. So, I continue to push and explore. First, Lard happened, and then I did some more speaking tours. Believe it or not, I'm brought in as a college lecturer now. T: What is Lard? JB: I was in Chicago and Al Jorgensen and Paul Barker of Ministry and I decided to make a record. What should we call it? Well, how about Lard? Al fell on the floor laughing so I knew it was the right name. I mean, just think of it, and arena full of fans who, instead of shaking their fists in the air, metal fan style, are all holding giant cans of lard. The first thing that came to mind was that if there was going to be a song about lard, it would have to be an anthem about the power of lard. What is the power of lard? So I just thought of different one-liners that I didn't have room for in any songs and just put them all together at random. By the time I was done, a thread came through and there was the power of lard. I cut some of it out of and ad for condominiums in the _Chicago Tribune_. "Nowadays most of us need someone to run our personal life, blah, blah, blah." T: What are some of the other projects you're working on? JB: I just acted in a movie called _Terminal City Ricochet_. It's a very dark comedy set in the present, only things are more in a state of decay and collapse. In the fine tradition of the fall of Rome, people elect a TV talk show host to be their imperial leader and let him pretty much get away with anything he wants, including rubbing people out and banning music he doesn't like, kind of like what's going on with the PMRC and the record stickering controversy. I am the right-hand hatchet man of the corrupt dictator. I produced the soundtrack for the movie also. Doing work on the movie soundtrack got me together with the guys in DOA and NoMeansNo. We did one song for the soundtrack and now we're going on with it. At this point I'm working on four different albums, the DOA collaboration, one with NoMeansNo, one with the Steelpole Bathtub people plus Charley Tolnay from Kingsnake Roost in Australia. He used to be in a band we put out called Grong Grong, one of the most bent guitar players I've ever known. And there's the Lard album. There have also been a couple of collaborations by mail. Ice-T sampled the entire opening track off of my _No More Cocoons_ album for his album. You can expect more Lardcore soon, unless we kill each other in the studio or go nuts trying. Then I'm not sure what I'm going to do, because now that I've discovered all of these other things I can do, want to do, et cetera, how do I make time for it all without doing a half-assed job at each one? I haven't figured that out yet. I want to write another batch of songs and then decide what to do with those. It might finally be a real Biafra band, but I don't know. We'll have to see. I guess my current dream would be to cross the _Frankenchrist_ era of the Dead Kennedys with the avant-industrial aspects of people like the Beat Nigs or some of what Ministry or Foetus or Head of David or some of them are doing. I have no idea where it'll all end up. But at least this way it's more of an adventure. I would hate for spoken word, acting, music, or whatever to turn into a job. When it turns into that, I'm gone. There are times when I get so frustrated and depressed I just want to chuck the whole thing and go find a shack in Colorado and slam the door and not talk to anybody anymore. But for now I'm here to do damage. T: Describe the DOA collaboration. JB: The entire second side of the Biafra/DOA album is one song called "Full Metal Jackoff," all about the connections with the Contras, helping bring drugs into this country with the help of Oliver North, who's been made into this hero. I wouldn't call North the Adolf Hitler figure of American politics, more like Roberto Del Wesan, the head of the death squads in El Salvador. Same kind of guy, same kind of magnetism as marketed by right wing owned corporations, who own our media. I mean, now almost eighty percent of American mass media is in the hands of only twenty corporations. They may buy _Thrasher_ in the very near future, who knows? If you study papers, you'll see that there's less and less actual news in there. It's more and more like the _USA Today_, which is a Soviet style paper in terms of telling people as little as possible except hot vacation tips for the weekend. Happy news for happy people with happy problems. That's why so many rock songs pushed by major labels have one message alone: shut up and shop. Same with TV shows. So here we have our own intelligence community bringing in massive amounts of drugs, ruining the lives of countless people, and yet the same people bringing in the drugs are the ones saying we need to crack down on people as part of the war on drugs; make them pee in jars at work, have the cops sweep the ghettos. I mean, William Bennet has even proposed sweeping Washington, D.C.-- and the city proper is almost all black, mind you-- and locking suspected drug users on barges floating in the Potomac River and leave them there. If it's part of the war on drugs, then concentration camps are okay. How close are we to somebody busting down our door and saying, "Hey, you oppose concentration camps? Let's lock you away." That's exactly what's going on. The lunatics have taken over the asylum. Bush is a banana republic dictator. He's not a wimp at all. He knows enough to make himself look like that, but he is a very smooth, efficient Nazi machine who's studied all of Hitler's mistakes to know how to do things right. You don't take over a country overnight; it's a thirty year slow coup so nobody asks questions. You make a big stink about the American flag. Guess who else made a big stink about desecrating the flag-- the Nazi party right after they took over Germany. Bush is doing the exact same thing. Back in '82 I read an article in the Wall Street Journal linking people with names like Richard Secord, William Colby, William Casey with running heroin and opium out of Laos through the bodies of GIs in the Vietnam War to America. And sending whole battalions on missions on behalf of drug lords, not the South Vietnamese government. And guess what name has popped up in that as well-- George Bush. That is who's running our country now, make no mistake. That's what "Full Metal Jackoff" is about. T: Any summarization? JB: That's hard to put into an advertising slogan that sounds catchy at the end of an interview. Keep asking questions, find out what's really going on and do something about it, yet be true to yourself without being an asshole about it. There's a way, no matter what you want to do where you can still give something back to other people and society at large. The lawyer I had for the _Frankenchrist_ trial was a criminal lawyer, not a constitutional lawyer who would argue before the Supreme Court. He was a Perry Mason. Of course, most cases that would come his way would be drug dealing, murder, robbery, whatever. He said the reason he took my case on for no fee was because he wanted to give something back to his profession, and he was tired of people picking on the First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution. In other words, even if somebody does want to go for the nice house, the two-car garage, the 2.3 children, there is still room to give something back and dig doing it at the same time.