Maynard James Keenan: Being Wrong Sucks
Editor's Note: With a tip of the cap to the man, we bid Maynard James Keenan adieu. This is MJK's final column for Up on the Sun, as he's devoting 2013 to more music and more wine. You won't have to wait too long to hear some of the fruits of his labor: On Tuesday, February 19, Puscifer will release Donkey Punch The Night, featuring two new songs, Queen and Accept Covers, and exclusive remixes. I spent some time on the horn with MJK about the record, so stand by for that feature.
Check out Maynard'sNew Times archive, and follow him on Twitter, @Puscifer. Adios, Maynard!
This is dangerous. I'm pre-writing this column so I can submit it pre-holiday for publication in January. This is assuming January will arrive. So far so good. There's nothing obviously hurtling towards us from space, such as a comet, meteor, or very large impenetrable minimalist sculpture.
Not that we're aware of, anyway. No unusual spike in geological activity. No increased sun spot shenanigans. Snooky's spawn has no anti-Christ markings or disturbingly evil powers. Yet. Maybe we'll be OK. Maybe you'll actually read this and we'll all giggle with some modicum of humility over our collective paranoia. On some unconscious level I'll be more than a little disappointed if nothing semi-tragic happens. All that buildup and no money shot. Bummer.
Think of all that wasted end-of-the-world disaster footage: Tommy Lee Jones ass whooping some Beverly Hills lava (Volcano); John Cusack fleeing from the whatnots in a bunker submarine ship thing (2012); Charlton Heston battling plastic surgery disasters (Beneath the Planet of the Apes); Liv Tyler actually dating Ben Affleck. As if. (Armageddon). Bill Murray apologizing for breaking the seventh seal of the apocalypse by agreeing to do Garfield and then DYING (Zombieland); Jake Gyllenhaal surviving Brokeback Mountain (Day After Tomorrow). The list goes on.
20th Century Fox Beneath the Planet of the Apes (1970)
I had a thought. What if our understanding of the airwaves borders on knuckle-dragger? I mean, what if our flippant transmission of invisible signals isn't bound by our understanding of time? What if satellite transmissions go up into space and slip through black holes and fissures of the space-time continuum? We've only been broadcasting these various forms of sounds and images for less than a century. We've had no real time under our belt to measure the damage or far-reaching effect of these actions. What if these images reach back in time?