Music Is A Felony?

A pre-release leak of Chinese Democracy has attracted the attention of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Chinese Democracy, the long-awaited Guns N’ Roses album, was leaked earlier this month by Kevin Skwerl, owner of the Antiquiet (antiquiet.com) blog.

Digital Music News

Something is terribly wrong with the world when ENTERTAINMENT has anything to do with PRISON. Dr. Zoltan is unable to express how insane this is. People go to prison for violent crimes: like rape, murder, and kidnapping. Not for things like cheesy songs. 

In case you have not noticed, the fundamental PHYSICS of the music business have been changed in recent years. Music is no longer a solid, tangible item. Music can be copied with one click of the mouse. Anyone who enters into the business of music and overlooks this idea is a fool. Anyone expecting to be paid for something that can be shared for FREE is crazy. Do not get into the game without reading the new rules. Businessmen are usually smart enough to realize that when a business is no longer profitable. They pack up and move into a different business. Sell something else. Instead, the Record Industry actually calls up The Government and makes their loss of business a FELONY. Do not start a business that is not profitable and depend on Federal Police to force it to stay in business. 

Copying music (especially rock and pop music [particularly that which is created by Axl Rose]) is not important enough to be considered any sort of crime. The Record Industry had a good 50-year run. A lot of plastic things were sold. A lot of money was made by people in suits, and people who were attractive but untalented. Now it’s over. Too bad. Get a job.

{ This post was written and approved by Dr. Zoltan! If you have ever made a bad business decision, please visit http://www.drzoltan.com/blog. Not everything should be measured. }
 

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Mohamed Atta’s Ex-Girlfriend In Venice, Florida

Quite possibly the strangest evidence in the 9/11 Mythology. 

Self-Quiz:

1.) Why were the Islamic Extremist Suicide Pilots drinking alcohol and snorting cocaine in Venice, Florida? Aren’t those behaviors forbidden in Islam? Why fly a plane into a building for something you don’t really believe in?
2.) Would a Terrorist who wants to be buried on his right side, facing East, wearing three white pieces of cloth date a pink-haired stripper from Venice, Florida?
3.) Out of 4 million square miles of land in the United States, why was George W. Bush in Sarasota, Florida — 30 miles north of Venice, Florida — on the morning of 9/11?
4.) Are the real details behind 9/11 far more complex than the popular story?

According to Noam Chomsky, none of this matters anyway.

“If you look at a controlled scientific experiment, the same thing is true. When someone carries out a controlled scientific experiment at the best laboratories… at the end, there are lots of things that are unexplained. Funny coincidences, and this and that.”

…and with that, Chomsky has proven the invalidity of science and the unimportance of evidence. Now we know why it is better to spend $300 MILLION DOLLARS A DAY to occupy Iraq, instead of spending money to INVESTIGATE and EXPLAIN what happened on 9/11.

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Dr. Zoltan "Tool" YouTube Video Passes 500 Text Comments

To find out more about how 15-year-olds are a waste of the First Amendment, visit: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l2Tb5U8riXE

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Dr. Zoltan Vs. Drippy The Waitress

Dr. Zoltan stood in the lobby of the worn-out Florida diner. 

His awkward, stiff arms posed at his sides like a Masters of the Universe action figure. They appeared to be plastic appendages, forced to adhere to a swiveling and mechanical track, their only moveable joints being his shoulders. His gloved hands were clenched into tight fists. He was fond of occasionally opening and slamming them closed to make humans nervous. He had heard from a colleague that insane characters in Stephen King novels do that. 

The length of his black trenchcoat and glued-on beard seemed to blow in the wind, even indoors. It was as if a fantasy video game animator programmed it as a special — yet unnecessary — effect. Dr. Zoltan preferred to look artificial and the extra money spent on his costume was worth it. Alien, android, cartoon character, whatever… he wanted to be anything but human. 

His red and black X-Ray goggles sparkled as he cocked his head at strange angles, like a canine bending its ears to hear the feet of an imaginary spider crossing a wall. He enjoyed seeing his face from different angles, and the anti-social narcissist liked to believe one or more cameras were always pointed at him. One can never be too sure that YouTube isn’t watching. One false move and 12,000 RATM fans would be all over it. 

Do not lick your lips. Breathe through your nose. Prepare the next line. Deep voice. You are not Sir Millard Mulch any longer. No more contractions. Formal. 

The sad truth was that no one actually took notice of his grand and regal entrance to the retirement town’s only 24-hour diner. He marched into the room as if he was none other than Emperor Norton coming to inspect the restaurant and issue a decree to nullify Congress. 

Out of the corner of his eye he could see his reflection in the smudge-covered plastic case on the stuffed animal crane game. He cleared his throat a little too loud and adjusted his long-haired wig slightly. “You can’t have composer without poser,” he had once declared before a crowd of Berklee College of Music graduates. It was the entirety of his commencement speech. He often prided himself on alienating musicians even more than non-musicians. 

As he smirked in memory of his musical elitism, his attention turned to the music blaring from a distorted, monophonic, mid-ranged speaker above his head. It was a bad 80’s funk pop song that sounded like a collaboration between a poorly-intonated Prince and a rhythm section ripped-off from The Police. It was perhaps some Muzak tape that someone forgot to throw away or a subscription-based radio station transmitted from a tower that someone forgot to tear down. Dr. Zoltan cringed at the vocalist’s repetition of the word, “yeah.” He counted 17 consecutive, all sung in pentatonic minor, with no regard for the purely Ionian key signature. There was also unnecessary reverb on the kick drum, the same problem that ruined Pork Soda

The only human in the place was a high school drop-out named Tanya. She was only a 19-year-old waitress, but South Venice had taken its toll. 

Dr. Zoltan had seen her in this time-space before. Her hair was an ugly, de-saturated brownish-yellow, extremely curly near her bulging skull and increasingly thin and stringy towards the ends. It all seemed to grow away from her forehead in every possible direction, torn up and burnt. Her skin was red, covered in acne. Her cheeks were so hairy it almost counted as sideburns. She was vigorously stacking up plates or something… as if the activity was somehow important enough to occupy the entire focus of her consciousness. She was trying HARD, and Dr. Zoltan could hear her breathing heavily — almost grunting along with each motion — across the room. 

Her teeth and gums were too big, so she left her mouth hanging open most of the time. It made some observant customers worry what might fall out onto their plates. An old man had once gotten mad and referred to her as Drippy, due to an unfortunate mishap involving her nose adding an ingredient to his soup. She worked and worked, even if she was sick, which seemed to be every and all day.

The thing that disturbed Dr. Zoltan the most is that Drippy fit comfortably into the small world surrounding her. This worn-out diner was everything she could imagine for herself. She had found her home. She needed nothing more, and saw no reason to change anything whatsoever. No science. No art. No philosophy. No magic. No time-traveling… no ANY traveling. Within the limits of her reality, she was able to feel satisfaction. Dr. Zoltan had observed many post-19th Century humans like her who accept the simple rules right from the beginning. At the end of their lives, they successfully complete their journeys around the board game and collect their points. They are lucky, he thought; their goals are attainable. Dr. Zoltan wondered if such a system or place existed for him, or if he would have to travel through time and space incognito for the rest of his immortal existence. 

“Sit wherever you want, UH” she said, with her back turned, shuffling really boring things around on the counter. “Ima git a cigarette. That table over there already has a water already on the table.” He recognized her accent: it was the non-denominational, international tongue of ignorance. Dr. Zoltan could only imagine how long that water had been sitting there becoming room temperature in that light blue plastic glass — and who had stuck their puffy roofing fingers in it. His attention turned back to that distinct, “UH,” she said at the end of the first sentence, and wondered why it was specifically placed where it was. Even at 2 a.m. he couldn’t stop over-analyzing the mysteries of the lower class. 

As she turned to face him and pointed her dirty, pale, freckled, self-tattooed finger at the table, Dr. Zoltan saw that she was either pregnant or horribly misshaped. Wrapped tightly around her bulging abdomen and skinny arms, she wore some sort of worn-out one-color-ink-silk-screened-on-white Venice Indians Car Wash or Wacky Winter Relay ringer t-shirt. It was covered in generic, default system fonts that had been scaled disproportionately by an amateur. Dr. Zoltan would have none of that. 

Every door was a magical inter-dimensional portal, and this one had mistakenly led Dr. Zoltan to the wrong time-space. 

{ This post was written and approved by Dr. Zoltan! If you have ever been trapped in a small town, please visit http://www.drzoltan.com/blog. There is no escape! }

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The Happiest Place On Earth Is Not Disneyland?

According to Happiness Economics, the following places on Planet Earth are the happiest (shown here in green):

Canada, New Zealand, Norway, Sweden, Finland, Iceland, Austria, United Kingdom, Malaysia, and what appears to be Costa Rica. 

{ This post was written and approved by Dr. Zoltan! If you are in outer space and you own a very large magnifying glass, please visit http://www.drzoltan.com/blog. Dr. Zoltan is seeking to rent one. }

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Dr. Zoltan Disturbed And Confused By Disturbed’s Land of Confusion

Dr. Zoltan did not listen to this song repeatedly when he was 9 years old, only to hear it full of “problems” many years later:

1.) What is with all the “…ah!” added at the end of every line? Example: the word, “Right,” becomes “Right-ah!”
2.) Just to make it even more obvious, the vocalist overdubbed several repeated “Ah! Ah! Ah!” and then end of each verse, to make sure we heard him doing it. 
3.) Dr. Zoltan is disturbed and confused by how they left out the most important Lydian melody directly following the words, “So long ago…”

Original Version, far more strange, creative, surreal, and demented:

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What Disney World Was REALLY Supposed To Be…

Mr. Disney was so excited about this idea that he continued to plan it on the ceiling above his death bed. Unfortunately, it turned into yet another superficial amusement park full of mechanical animals.

-Dr. Zoltan!

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Gene Simmons Mistakenly Gives Up

According to an article posted at Digital Music News:

Fans are responsible for destroying the record industry, according to recent comments by Kiss bassist Gene Simmons.  “The record industry is dead,” Simmons said.  “It’s six feet underground and unfortunately the fans have done this. They’ve decided to download and file-share.” 

That is precluding the group from recording new material, according to Simmons.  “There is no record industry around so we’re going to wait until everybody settles down and becomes civilized,” the controversial Simmons continued.  The outspoken glam-rocker also criticized Radiohead for offering their music for free, and promised that Kiss would not follow suit. 

Honestly, Mr. Simmons, you expect us to believe it was your great song writing that made you rich & famous, and not your endless KISS merchandising? You’re an action figure. A lunch box. You are the original Cafe Press. You put your logo on everything and mark it way up. Accept the fact that you are (were?) a costume-wearing entertainer. Your music has always been just a pretense. Come on, you’re not this stupid, are you? Anyone who has made money off of selling music has been lucky. Anyone who expects to make money off of something that can be copied with a single click is an idiot. Put your cape back on and get to work!

-Dr. Zoltan!

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Alternative Press: The Band Image Homogenizer

If you’ve seen one issue of Alternative Press, you’ve seen them all. Does anyone else see a common theme here? 4 or 5 losers with messy hair, standing in front of some sort of abstract post-apocalyptic background. Shame on Alternative Press for perpetuating this mass image homogenization. What exactly is this the “Alternative” to, if it’s on every cover?

{ This post was written and approved by Dr. Zoltan! If you are pre-occupied with adolescence, please visit http://www.drzoltan.com/blog. Dr. Zoltan believes he can help you. }

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7 Questions With Brooks Wackerman

The following interview took place via e-mail, and was conducted very carefully and responsibly by Dr. Zoltan!

You have drummed with Suicidal Tendencies, The Vandals, Tenacious D., and now Bad Religion. A lot of drummers of your caliber are shameless about pimping their abilities with endorsements, websites, instructional DVDs… and you don’t even have a website. Why do you keep such a low profile?

Well, I do have my own Myspace page, which I need to make a little more fan friendly (i.e. drum set diagram, bio, etc). That’s my New Year’s Resolution. As far as whoring myself out? I’m still waiting for Cadillac to call me about using my drum solo in their commercial. I’m shamelessly waiting.

Are there any mainstream pop bands or singer / songwriters out there that you’d want to drum for?

Elvis Costello, David Bowie, David Byrne, and PJ Harvey. All of these artists would be a dream come true to play with.

As a fan of Zig Ziglar and Dr. Laura, what is your idea of success and happiness in life?

To find a lady who loves you, not only for your 5 stroke rolls, but for the man that you are.

You’re a fan of some really quirky music… Mr. Bungle and Ween, to name a few. How cerebral do you get with music? Are you a music theory geek?

Not at all..Although I’m in the midst of learning the piano. I do know a lot about drums and I do know how to read music, so maybe I am…

You live in the Imaginary City referred to as Los Angeles. What is the worst thing about it?

The pomposity, smog, and world famous traffic.

Your drumming on “Look What I Almost Stepped In” was monstrous. What type of preparation went into the recording of your tracks? Did you work from charts or did you get to develop your parts with the other players? Were the songs completed before you arrived? How creative were you allowed to be? Would you have done anything different?

No charts in punk music. Warren Fitzgerald gave out demos and he had some ideas for me, which is usually a great blue print whenever we work together, but I definitely added my paprika into their mix. Yes, the songs which were 95% Warren’s were completely written… although when we rehearsed, minor changes occurred. I was pretty happy with my performance on this particular record. It allowed me to really play out and unleash my own fury. From a drumming stand point I’m pretty proud of that one, so i don’t think i would have changed anything.

To your knowledge (or according to your best guess), who was / is the greatest musician in the world, on any instrument, out of anyone who has ever lived? Why?

Buddy Rich… because to this day there’s no one that can come even close to matching his ability behind the trap set.

What instrument should be mixed the loudest on an album?

The trombone. Under all circumstances.

Find out more about Brooks Wackerman right here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brooks_Wackerman

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