Entries Tagged as 'Protomen News'

MIDWEST SHOWS: JULY 11th – 19th

THE FIGHT FOR LIGHT: Unrest In The Midwest 2008

JULY:
10thBowling Green, KY – Bread & Bagel
11thChicago, IL – South Union Art Center
12th – Madison, WI – The Frequency
13th – St Paul, MN – Station 4
15th – Des Moines, IA – Vaudville Mews
16th – Lincoln, NE – Box Awesome(TWO SHOWS – ONE NIGHT!!)
17thKansas City, MO – The Riot Room
18thSpringfield, MO – Outland
19thSpringfield, IL – Black Sheep
24thLouisville, KY – Forecastle Festival/Glassworks
25thNashville, TN – 12th And Porter
26thChattanooga, TN – JJ’s Bohemia

If we don’t see you at these shows…we’ll assume you’re dead.

-Commander

Vision Quest

-Willow Juan-
Recently, we’ve noticed a lack of fancy* super live action video of us in the world. This brings the sadness down upon us like a sack of rusty anvils. Because of the high volume of our sadness, we thought it wise to ask our friends at Version Industries to “make with the fancy” at a recent show in NY. It’s been a little while, since the show, and they’ve been hard at work. Now, you ask, were their fanciful attempts successful, or were their hard boiled labor efforts in vain? Were their countless hours in the proverbial fields fruitless, or did they effortlessly reap the bountiful/fancy harvest? Yes. Just like Reba, they made with The Fancy. Be proud of them. They are helping to take that sadness away.
We now present to you:
VIDEO FANCINESS

With that out of the way, it’s on to business…

-SUPER VOTE-A-THON-
For those of you don’t have your ear to the ground or nose to the grindstone or chin to the cobblestone or back to the …forget it. For those of you who don’t know, let it be known that we’ve been entered into a competition of power by the boys of Ernie Ball. This competition is to play at a festival known all too well across this United America. This festival is known as Warped Tour. Before you cough obscenities, know that this is a challenge, and we must be victorious. I can think of no other population on earth that is in more dire need of hearing good music. That being said, help us bring the Light.
In order to help, follow these steps:
•STEP 1. Head to Ernie Ball’s Warped Tour Battle of the Bands site and register an account.
•STEP 2. Once registered, head to our account HQ to vote for us and rate our songs/band once daily.
•STEP 3. This is a community effort, get your friends and family to help…get people you don’t know to help too..make new friends…it’s FUN!
•STEP 4. You and your new friends then visit your profiles daily to vote for your favorite robot band, besides Daft Punk.
Result:
The top 20 voted bands will have a shot to play the show date, so your votes are everything. Remember, it’s a daily thing so hit it often and rally your friends. It’s time to see what we’re all made of. Make the magic happen.

-ILIKE.COM PRESENCE-
If you happen to be on iLike.com**…..imagine that, we are too! Find us. “Like us”….or else.

-PHOTOGRAPHS-
We finally updated the Photos section of the website. Go there. Seek, and ye shall find. More to come soon.

-MAILING LIST-
If you’re already signed up on our mailing list, but haven’t gotten anything from us recently, we ask that you follow these two steps:
•STEP 1. Check your junk folders for our previous messages.
•STEP 2. If you find nothing in your junk folder, add communications@protomen.com to your safe list within your email account. Hopefully, that will allow future communications to reach you.

-STREET TEAM UPDATE –
Soon, we will have a resource page available to those of you involved. It will be a page with all the tools you will need to survive***.

-ROCK N ROLL ACROSS AMERICA SHOWS-
For those of you who don’t know, Scartoe is currently on a world-spanning Vision Quest. He’s searching out his deepest meaning. He’s discovering things within himself that he never thought possible. He’s becoming a man of mans. That being said, we are grounded from flight, for the time being. In this time, we’re recording our hearts out. Making jams that you’ve never imagined. Much is being done within the walls of Thundercon. Much left to be done. However, he is going to be back from his Vision Quest in the early parts of July. It is then, that we shall prepare for war.

I ain’t got time to bleed.

-Commander

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

*High Quality
**Don’t worry, it’s not an online dating site.
***Except for crossbows. Our lawyers won’t let us hand out crossbows.

Better Late Than Never II: The Sequel

Oh God.
Where have I been
What’s happened here?

The day is Wednesday, the 26th of May, year of our Lord 2000…something.
Today is the first day I can focus my brain since the beating we took in Greenville.

What can I remember…
There was the 14 hour bus ride/Indiana Jones marathon. I nearly won. I made it through the “Kali Ma Shakti de”…but the next thing I remember was “he no nuts…he crazy.” So really…no points for Temple of Doom.

What else…
There was Greenville.She was just as we left her…completely insane and brimming with the most bizarre creatures the night has ever born.
There was the Baby Dinosaur Guy.He fell to the floor in front of me and showed me how dinosaurs freed themselves from the egg-prison. His presentation ended with him screaming “If I cannot have life, then I will TAKE LIFE!” and then leaping onto some poor bastard’s neck and chewing on his ear.
Then there was the girl that Scartoe spoke to who was afraid that whales would somehow walk the earth again. This terrified her.
They had metal-workers. The head metalist forged a new MegaCannon from the fires of hell and the steel of the Devil himself. It was beautiful. It was heavy. It was magnificent.
Oh.
And we played a show.
Yes.
There was a show…I’m remembering bits and pieces now.
There were other shows.

Richmond, where the children run the streets with tattoos and clearly learn to party at age 9.

Connecticut, where the venues will let you sleep on the stage…for certain favors (Murphy took care of the details).

Boston, where the bars are built on the sun and the sweat fuels the machines that produce heat and feed it back into the bars.

Brooklyn, Where our old allies keep the fires burning all night, and then cook pizza upon them.

And Baltimore, Yes Baltimore. We love you the most. Although you’re a very strange bird. We’ll be back soon, honey.

And Snoop Dogg was there.
And we played on the New York Giant’s practice turf.
And we rode the Gravitron until we vomited with joy.

The Tour was a success, from what I can recall.
Thanks to everyone who made it the hazy blur that it was.
Those who played…those who offered shelter…those who provided food…those who turned the PA up until the death rang out properly…and that asshole at the motel in New Jersey who would not…I repeat, would not…let us sneak 11 people into a room reserved for two…Mola Ram… prepare to meet Kali… in Hell.

There have been other shows that need to be mentioned.There were benefits and battles that went unsung.Wax Fang…you will always be in our hearts (mostly because you broke into Thunderstruck at some point during the set…your rendition of ACDC brought Gumby back from hell.)

USN(University School of Nashville) and the kids at Zeitgeist…fantastic showing. We are fans. We are allies.

WRVU and WMTS…there are few people we love enough to stop swearing long enough to talk on air to…we are forever yours.

Springfield and Chicago…we learned some pretty disturbing things about Lincoln. Did you know that they had the minivan of outhouses? Look it up. Family style…creepy.

We’re hard at work now to make Act II a reality.We even showed some of the material to the more discerning(read: drunk) crowds this last run up the eat coast.With their official thumbs up…we will proceed.

Also…we have started a line of fancy Patches. Buy them. Buy them in large numbers. Many. Buy them. Be Fancy. Be fancy 10 times over.

Starting today, it’s time to start our street team attack. If you are interested in being on the Super Proto Street Team Attack To The Proto Death Attack Street Team(S.P.S.T.A.T.T.P.D.A.S.T)…FOLLOW THESE INSTRUCTIONS:
Step 1:
Go to the Protomen Forum.

Step 2:
Register with whatever name you feel just. Make it good.
*If you are already registered on the Forum, skip this step and continue to Step 3.

Step 3:
Email us HERE: lightbrigadestreetteam@gmail.com ….telling us your ScreenName and Location. Please put your State and Screen Name in the SUBJECT line.

Step 4(is our responsibility):
We will read the email and then grant you access to the Super Secret Street Team portion of the Forum: COMMAND STATION.

Lastly,
I need to make clear the rumors that Doug Fetterman made a Baltimore appearance.Ladies and Gentleman, Doug Fetterman is and will forever be…gone from us.He was our friend. He was our most beloved leader and confidant. He will forever live on in our music. Last month was the one year anniversary of his passing. That being the case, we have decided to commemorate this fallen hero with our newest shirt. I guess we’ll just have to figure out what that “one thing” is on our own. We’ll miss you, Doug.
Viva Fetterman…long live the king.

Man, this message is long….I guess that’s what I get for being silent for 6 months now.

You know what they say…
Fortune and Glory kid, Fortune and glory,
Panther.

Operation: Better Late Than Never.

It has been a along time since last we spoke….for that, I am sorry. There are some things in this world that cannot be helped…like The Death Flu Sick. Our 3 day mini tour to KY, OH, and MI took it’s toll on us. We have also been obscenely busy lately recording and writing. Would you rather us write on the internet …or write on the songs?? Make the right decision. Don’t blow this for yourself.

When last we contacted you, we were preparing for a vicious show with Wax Fang and Velcro Stars on January 12th. It happened..and it was amazing. A strong “thank you” goes out to all who were there…and an even stronger “sorry for your loss” goes out to all who weren’t. All is not lost, however… there seems to be rumblings of a Round 2.

Since our Jan. 12th show, we have been many places(and by “many,” I mean 3), and seen many things(and by “many,” I mean we saw some stuff). One of said things was the basement of a bowling alley in Louisville, KY on Feb 8th. We played with a band known only as Ultra Pulverize…and that names suits them all too well. That night, we slept with the dead. In a mortuary. With dead people. We’re super tough. Supposedly there weren’t really any dead people there at the time, but I like to think there were…and that they came back to life and ate Scartoe as he slept quietly on the stairs….like a little lamb.
The second night was spent in Akron, OH, and “OH” what a night of nerdiological debauchery, it was. A&G Ohio. There were wizards and warriors a plenty, there were ravers and weirdos galore…you want Pokemons?…there were too many…but who cares. no big deal. we’re still poor(Demon Barber’s got one hell of a fountain Pepsi habit)……….we also ate vicious Italian at a place called Mr. G’s Pizzeria(go there, if you want to live). It was ferocious. Once again, Ohio was overly entertaining.
Anyway, day 3 was spent in Detroit where our mustaches froze upon getting out of the bus. Intense cold. Although the outside temperature was in the negatives…it was a temperate 74º inside the bar. Marvels of modern technology. Space technology. Future Computers. Half frozen and half warm, we played a show to a fierce crowd of also half frozen and half warm Robocop lovers. They have to love him…he’s hometown. After the show, we jumped back on the bus and froze our asses off for 9 hours of intense driving fury. Feet were nearly frostbitten…hypothermia nearly took our dear sweet Murphy, for he’s a fragile one. This cold took it’s toll on us all. The Death Flu Sick jumped on us like a happy dog at a picnic. Gross. Even now, we’re still feeling the aftershocks. Not of the dog…but of the Detroit Sickness. It’s a little less gross than the dog thing.
So, that pretty much wraps up Operation: Drive to Kentucky to Play a Show, then Drive to Ohio to Play Another Show, and then Drive to Detroit to Freeze to Death(sorry, I’m not a very efficient operation namer).

The future holds much for us. What Murphy was trying to say in his cryptic/confusing bulletins on the myspace was that we are coming for you Chicago. Two nights of lusty bliss:

Thursday——-March 27th———- Chicago—————Empty Bottle – supporting Howlin’ Rain
Friday———-March 28th———- Chicago—————-Ronny’s – w/ Kid Static
Saturday——-March 29th———- Springfield, IL—-Black Sheep

Springfield..you’ll get yours, as well..

After that, we come home and begin recording….viciously. Songs. Music. America.

That’s all I’m telling you, for now….because this message is too long.

More, soon…very soon.

-Commander

Death Race 2007

December 13th, In The Year of Our Lord, 2007

As the sun rose on the Thundercon, the day after the Last Battle of The End, some awoke to the sound of men dying, some never woke up at all.

 

I was one of those that never awoke.

 

The death had come for me. It was a valiant beating we gave the forces of evil that fateful night, but I had left myself open to the most sinister weapon the robots could think of… S.T.R.E.P. Throat.

 

 This new post is long overdue, faithful readers. I’ve been dead. For that, I apologize. 

 

Here is the News:

 

Firstly, We’d like to thank all who travelled from near and far for the battle on Dec. 1st.

 

I’m pleased to announce that the verdict is in…We were victorious. But this was no easy victory. We were forced to fight with half as many men as we needed. 

 

The End made a grave mathematical error.

 

The End’s Official Story is this:

 

The End’s Official Story

 

…So that’s why many of you were turned away at the door.

 

It is possible that The End will eventually get it’s Ability to let more than 125 people in the door back…and thus become a good venue once again. Unfortunately, Commander is easily scared and made us turn that movie off before we could see the conclusion. 

 

So that’s it. We have lost faith in The End. 

 

We shall play there no more.

 

The Protomen New Deal:

EVERYONE GETS IN!

 

To make it up to you, Nashville, we are joining forces with our brothers from the north: Wax Fang.  On January 12th we will battle to the death with Wax Fang and long-time allies, The Velcro Stars, at the Mercy Lounge…the Biggest Venue in all the Land! (not true)

 

Furthermore, it is entirely possible for you to buy tickets now to ensure you will be among the fighters fighting the fight that night.  (Alright!)

 

Here is the link to the Ticket Purchasing Department at the Mercy Lounge:

The Ticket Purchasing Department at the Mercy Lounge

 

What else… what else…what…else…what…

 

A Sea King-sized thank you to all those helping with the

“Protomen take over College Radio Station Airwaves Campaign” 

As of last week we broke the top 100.

Our New Year’s Resolution: Breaking the top 90!

Keep up the good work comrades.

We will be Victorious!

 

I was just handed a communiqué from Murphy regarding future shows.

It reads:

 

Panther, 

Don’t forget to mention these shows in your news post. (stop) 

 

Feb 8 —  Louisville, KY @ Pour House w/ Ultra Pulverize (stop)

Feb 9 — Akron, OH @ The Hilton – The Protomen cut ties with The Marriott tour (stop)

Feb 10 — Detroit, MI @ Painted Lady Lounge (stop)

 

Ok, That’s it. I’ve got to head back to Eagleville for a few hours. (stop)

Then I have to switch out cars and go to my Mom’s house (stop)

I’ll be at the Thundercon in a few hours (stop)

-Murphy

 

 

I think that’s all the news so far.

 

Except this: Commander has discovered an NES game he’s never played: Cliffhanger.

He played it today and it’s pretty awful.

Way to go Sony Imagesoft…way to go.

We expected better from you.

 

Also, We had a few of you very concerned with 525-SEA at the last battle

All i can tell you is this:

Keep your ears tuned to the proper channels. 

 

I wanna bop with you… baby, 

Panther

 

-End Transmission- 

Battle on the New Front

The Protomen would like to formally thank all of our allies who made the Southeast leg of the Fight for Light an overwhelming victory. Keep the fire, dear friends. We will return. 

The horrific catastrophe that was the midwest tour was narrowly avoided. Juliette Lewis will fall, mark my words. Do not fret, Midwest…your time will come. In its stead, however, we crossed Nashville’s watery Berlin wall and barricaded ourselves deep in the heart of East Nashville (It’s really a much nicer place than the American government would have you believe). In this bunker, we began to record Act II. Fury. 

We will work through the cold harsh winter and emerge on the other side for the next leg of the Fight for Light. Keep y our eyes tuned to the proper channels for more information. 

In Other News: 

For the last few weeks, we’ve secretly been sending out copies of The Protomen Act I (Hope Rides Alone) to college radio stations around the country in boxes labeled “Peter Cetera presents: The Greatest Hits of Chicago as performed by Peter Cetera and the Peter Cetera orchestra.” So far, it’s made it through every security check point unquestioned. College radio security officers love Peter Cetera. The point is…the album is there. It is now up to you, comrades, to get the message out. Call your local college station and tell them to play it to the death. 

Also if you have the machines to intercept XM radio transmissions…now is the time to point them at the sky and turn them up real loud. The time has come for the sounds of war to reach every corner of the world…yes, faithful soldiers…we are finally joining the ranks of Frank Stallone. This weekend XMU (Channel 43) will be playing select pieces of Act I. Let them know you heard the fury loud and clear. If they are to continue to play us, they must know that you enjoyed it. 

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••  

XMU: 43

November 22nd-24th

Thursday – 10pm Eastern Time Zone

Friday – 2pm Eastern Time

Saturday – 6am Eastern Time 

If you don’t have XM you can listen online with A FREE ACCOUNT simply go to http://xmro.xmradio.com  and use the following code: XMB4MD 

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Lastly, the strange documentary on Myspace entitled “The Protomen ‘Sup Girls and other things suppable from the Protobus” must have had a tremendous impact on several of New York’s greatest creative minds…because they have created, ostensibly in honor of us, “‘Sup (girl) Magazine”: 

Sup Magazine 

We give our official thumbs up to these fine fine allies and thank them for their gracious invitation to appear in an upcoming issue.

Super Important Info:

Everyone should make their way to Nashville on the day of December First. New songs will be heard by those who attend. Do not expect the rock opera….expect fury.  

 12.01.07

So spake the Panther, 

Panther. 

Conclusion: Pain

Jesse Christine is quiet now. All are asleep except for myself and Heath Who, who is piloting us homeward. Every man is clinging to the last breath of warm air, which is quickly fleeting from the cracks in the floorboard. The white lines outside are a blur as the Protobus nears the outskirts of The Land of Volunteers. I too am weary. But before I sleep I feel it necessary to tell you, faithful reader, about the last of the three battles.

The Battle of Carolina (Southern Front):

We pulled in to a string of shops stretching a kilometer or so up and down a main drag just outside the city. Buried in this front was the Maproom. A long-time underground haven for supporters of the cause, we were welcomed by her people and given food and drink to steady ourselves for the long night ahead. We were introduced to members of a local army who called themselves A.S.I.F. They were a ragtag bunch, but they kept in good spirits.

As the dark covered the land we found that we were not alone in our fight. Allies had traveled in from the surrounding towns, some had even made the voyage from the scene of the Great Juliette Lewis Tragedy of ’07… Disneyworld. More still had followed our bus, having nowhere else to go, from the ruins of the Battle of Savannah.

Every man fought hard and stood firm, until the battle was won.

Immediately following the battle, we danced to the sweet sounds of Brian Adams and Cyndi Lauper.

It was a good night for all.

The Battle of Carolina (Northern Front):

As we pulled into the town of Greenville, we knew something was very wrong. This city was unlike any other we’d fought in. It was small, dimly lit, and had the sour stench of Crown and locally brewed Energy Drink on its breath.

As we descended into the belly of a district called “Spaz” we spotted what we naturally assumed to be our enemy: They were a small army, but intimidating: A short man with an evil grin, dolled up as some kind of demon Saint Nick…A Irelander with a scar across her brow claiming to be a robot who only spoke in riddles, “bitch is crazy! bitch is a republican!” she kept chanting…and a burly fellow riding a long thin board and drinking everything in sight.

We moved in slowly from the south, but they were on top of us before we could think of a next move. Others followed, some friendly, some ready to strike…but all in a frenzy of alcohol and taurine. They came at us from all sides. We were barely standing when the blows suddenly ceased. Kilroy stood up and gasped for air…”They found me…I don’t know how but they found me.” “Who?” Murphy yelled across the din. “Who do you think, Murphy…The Libyans!”

And all at once the horrible laughter and the sounds of G.G. Allin songs stopped and the Libyan Death Squad gave us a beating we won’t soon forget.

We retreated to the safety of a nearby Sheetz…but were crushed under the mighty blow of 15 inch woofers and security guard batons. It was horrible…no words…

We slowly backed away from the Sheetz and again toward the Spazatorium knowing that we would surely be destroyed if we were forced to fight on two fronts. As we hesitantly returned to the scene of the first battle, the growling of the Shitagoddamns caused Commander to soil himself. The room was spinning and we felt this was our last moment amongst the world of the living, when the Spazbots turned on the Sheetzmongers.

The Libyans…the Shitagoddamns…everyone within the walls of that terrifying place turned on the city that surrounded it and destroyed the evil that consumed Greenville with a mighty roar of Rock and Roll Hellfire.

The battle was over. We didn’t win…the Rock and Roll fury of the warriors of Greenville won. They embraced us like Dr. Allan Grant embraced Dr. Ellie Sattler at the end of Jurassic Park…or like Jeff Goldblum embraced that small gymnast at the end of the Lost World, or like William H. Macy embraced Téa Leoni in Jurassic Park III…the point is it was like a movie about dinosaurs where everyone makes it out alive except for the fat guy from Seinfeld who wanted to make a quick buck and opened a Sheetz and turned it into a terrible beacon of retard.

But I digress.

We celebrated the rest of the night listening to the Devil Santa sing the songs of his homeland while being beaten with an empty keg of beer and a broken scrap of rod-iron.

Greenville…you are like the Thundercon of North Carolina.

The Battle of Richmond (The Last Front)

Richmond won this battle for herself. We never had to raise a finger. If we hadn’t been there…She would have thrown her fists up…she would’ve sang every word…she would have thrown herself off the stage and into the open arms of her children….she would have done all this by herself. And she’d have won too. We were just there for moral support…and to throw ourselves off the stage during the final song. We thank you Richmond. You stand in our hearts next to Baltimore. We will never again fear for your safety, and we will always fight alongside of you.

And now, tireless reader, as we pull into the shadows of the Thundercon, in the breaking light of morning, our story comes to an end. We are beardless and bruised. We have many repairs to make before our next battle. We have stories to tell our loved ones. We have one member of the Richmond army who hid on the bus and didn’t get found out until Knoxville. We have a renewed sense of courage. We have hope.

…we have work to do.

-Panther

Black Friday.

We woke today with a false sense of calm. The air was crisp. We slept the night in the safety of Fival’s Bane in the city of Savannah. Our ally here, Prof. Phil Keeling esq.  has been a generous host and spent the morning on watchtower duty allowing us to sleep into the early afternoon. I suppose I should catch our dear readers up on the last two battles.  Let us start from the end and work backwards. Here is the official transcript of last night’s show:

Kilroy- “Please welcome your hope…the Protomen.”

Panther- “Tonight we have come to tell you a story… For there was no one left who could remember how it had happened…at least no one who…

…silence…

Commander- “We’re in a jetwash. Shit!”

Murphy- “This is not good. We’ve got a flame-out. ”

Commander- “Engine one is out!”

Scartoe- “Engine two is out!”

Panther- ” I’m losing control. I can’t control it!”

“It’s coupling up! This is not good!”

Heath Who- ” Mayday. Mayday. Panther’s in trouble.”

“He’s in a flat spin heading out to sea!”

Panther- “Altitude 8000…7000…”

Scartoe- “I’m pinned forward. I can’t reach the ejection handle!”

Commander- “Demon Barber…You’re going to have to punch us out.”

Demon Barber- “I can’t reach the ejection handle…”

Heath Who- “I’ve got it. Eject!”

“Everyone watch the canopy!”

Panther- “Oh God…”

-End Transcipt-

We came to in the cold water, we think it was a fuse that blew…but no one will ever know for sure…

What is known is that this morning not a one of us had any hair on our chins.

Whiskerino, Whiskerino…

We finished the battle last night as best we could.

We won. We were victorious. But we did not make it out. A piece of each of us remains. Lost.

Follow me now, faithful readers, further into the past. Two nights ago. In the Village of Gaines.

We were outmatched.
There were just so many of them…

They came in waves.

Killer Robots.

Some were giants. Some were small and quick. One climbed to the top of Jesse Christine and attacked Hank the Tank (our Tour Manager) from above. It was a massacre. We never knew what hit us. By the end there were robot parts everywhere. Those of us who remained drank the memory away as best we could…but there was nowhere to go. We stood for hours in the very place where we were nearly destroyed. We decided to split into two factions: Half marched into the darkness to find shelter. The other half barricaded themselves in the Protobus and prayed for morning.
We rendezvoused at daybreak…put the hammer down and made a line to Savannah.

Now you know what we know.

The story is over halfway written.
We fear the light outside but know that we must somehow make it to Charleston.

Until our next meeting…
-Panther

[The following is a transcript of a conversation between Demon Barber and Commander
This conversation takes place late in the evening following the battle of Savannah]
Demon Barber - "You've got to let your beard go."   

		"You've got to let him go."

Commander- "I think maybe it was my fault."   

		"I don't know."

Commander- "I don't know what the hell went wrong."

Demon Barber- "I'd like to help. I know it's difficult."

Commander- [light sobbing]                      

Demon Barber- "God, he loved flying with you, Commander."

		"He would have flown anyway...without you."

 		"He'd have hated it, but he would have done it."

Commander- "God, I want him back"

Demon Barber- "I know bro, I know."

-End Transmission-

Southeast: Day Two.

Atlanta is burning. We left the city this morning under the cover of a heavy fog and aluminum foil poptart wrappers. There was a dog barking…a pug who’d, the night before, wandered out into this wasteland, and in this blighted place, we think, learned to live again. God’s little mistake…The Warrior..The Pug…Max.
The night before was a thing of beauty. Our candlelit dinner theater extravaganza was witnessed by one transplanted Mississippian and a face-painted warrior comrade from Atlanta’s neighbor: Georgia. He was a fierce beast. And although their combined cover charges weren’t quite enough to cover the bar’s steep production costs…we were treated like kings and rewarded for our valor in Ireland’s finest Vodka. The Vodka was divided amongst each of us and every man celebrated with it in their own way. Most drank. Commander dowsed himself with his share in hopes of human-torching up and down Piedmont street, but he failed.
We stayed the night in The Major’s Nest high atop Bald Eagle Hill on Bald Eagle Way…just before you get to eaglet street. The Major wasn’t in, but we were welcomed and made comfortable by an old friend and ally, Kristin:the Entomolgizer. She showed us to our, as yet unmatched, sleeping quarters complete with a glorious Lego fortress. Scartoe slept in the arms of a giant brown bear.
Tonight, Tallahassee showed us a good time. She held the door for us, and picked up the check, and treated us to a crapload of tough metal. We are recovering from the night’s wrath, even as I type, from our new-found Tallahassee home base: W.A.S.P.N.E.S.T.
Our new allies: Lee, Hogan, and Alex (and their Harry P. look-alike roommate Rob) are fading quickly as I write these words…They are dropping like flies…Charlie is all around us, and that Charlie’s name is Sleep. Tomorrow we make for Gainsville with everything we’ve got. God-willing, we’ll be there by sundown.
Sleep well faithful readers, for tomorrow brings untold danger and unmatched fear…Samhain is neigh…
-Panther

–end transmission–

The Seven Days War.

Last night, we packed our bags and slept our last good night’s sleep for seven days. For today, we begin our journey to the SouthEast. Repairs were made to the machines late into the night (those that suffered near destruction on our last two battles in Baltimore).  We are southbound now. As I type from the belly of the rolling Thundercon, this machine called Jesse Christine the last of the V8 Interceptors, we see that we may well be too late. For miles now we’ve seen nothing but destruction. A white line nightmare. This sight weighs heavy on our hearts. Onward we drive… into the smoke… into this maelstrom of decay, where ordinary men are battered and smashed. If we make it through the night, we will count ourselves lucky. This is a shell of a place. A burned out desolate land haunted by the demons of its past. And as we wander out into this wasteland, we can’t help but wonder, in this blighted place… will we crumble? Will we fall? Or will we learn to live again?…like Max did…you know…The Warrior Max.

“The Fight for Light”

If and when we return home on the fifth of November…we will finally return to the studio to begin the fight of fights. Stand with us now men and women of the Southeast. We need you more than ever.

-Panther