Feasting with Satan’s Minions

I had to travel to Eugene, OR, for work this week. I was lame and didn’t take any pictures, though. Especially because I happened to be seated directly behind two of the hottest Betties there are, Lael and Aimee (of Betty’s Divine, of course), on the leg from Missoula to Seattle: I would have liked to get photographic proof of that. The last time I saw them, I think, I was standing on their little stage at their Christmas fashion show, singing Christmas songs while holding a little dog (I wonder if anyone has photographic evidence of that?). Anyway, they were headed to Vegas and LA on a buying trip. Suppose there are any more death-defying rides in their future this time around?

Aimee was packing one of Julia’s purses. I thought that was awesome. I managed to stay comfortable even in the presence of such hotties because the pages of the fashion magazines they were reading were turning so fast it kept a nice, cool breeze flowing. I often get overheated on planes, I was pleased they were looking out for my best interests.

OBEY — Sign of the Devil?

After work Tuesday night, I drove up to the home of Mike and Angela Davis. Julia has been friends with Angela “since we were practically teenagers”, as Angela says, though I had never met her before. They moved up to Eugene from LA this past year. Angela is the “Svengirly” behind Svengirly Music, Inc. She manages bands, licenses merch, sells it, etc. Mike is the bass player for one of the greatest, and certainly one of the most influential, American rock and roll bands ever: the MC5. In addition to playing with the Motor City 5, Mike also played in Destroy All Monsters with Stooges guitarist, Ron Asheton. Mike wrote a moving piece about Ron when Ron passed away last month; dig it.

I had a fantastic time. It was great to meet Angela, Mike and their three boys. We had a big spaghetti dinner, then drank a little wine and just hung out a while. Angela had told me right out of the gate that they were expecting a washing machine repairman to stop by and fix their machine; when he arrived, Mike got up and was away for a while to take care of business. He returned, and announced, “I have to tell you all what just happened; I can’t keep this one to myself.” He then proceeded to relay his interaction with the repairman in most animated fashion. I will let him tell the story himself, since he blogged about it; here as an exerpt to lure you in:

In the dark I saw a wiry little man with gnome-like features. He was wearing a baseball cap. He looked to be around fifty years of age or so, and carried his toolbox over his shoulder. As we entered the garage in the light, he gestured toward my hoodie and made a curious remark. “You know what that symbol is, dontcha?” “Which?” I replied. “That one there, on yer shirt”. I looked down at the yellow icon printed on my black Obey hoodie, a gear with a five-pointed star depicting the face of Andre the Giant in its center. ” Yes, All City Posse”, I told him, “It’s a brand, you know, the name of the line, a brand”. “It’s the sign of the devil”, he said, with utter conviction. “It’s a pentagram, the sign of the devil!”

Really, you need to check it out.

We got a heck of a laugh out of the whole thing. Knowing now that this quiet, wholesome-seeming family are really instruments of the Lord of Lies further proves that you can’t make judgments based on appearances. Especially since they own a couple goats. Now, pygmy goats may not be the most evil-looking of critters, but believe me: where there’s goats, there’s got to be E-V-I-L.

It does make sense, when you think about it. The OBEY logo was created by a good friend of the Davis clan (coven?), Shepard Fairey. Now if that name sounds familiar, it should — he’s the guy who designed the iconic Obama “HOPE” image. Of course he “stole” the original image so he’s in hot water, which, according to Angela, is something he often finds himself in. So his latest run-in with Johnny Law probably isn’t that big of a deal to him.

My point here is that it shouldn’t surprise anyone that a guy throwing his creative support behind our new President, who some believe is the anti-christ, is also part of a plot to hand the world over to Lucifer. I mean, if this guy in the following picture doesn’t look like he runs through the city every night, spray paint in hand, screaming, “It’s all for you, Damian!” then I don’t know who does:

In all seriousness, these folks made me feel right at home. Angela was great to talk to; it was cool to hear stories of Julia in the days before I knew her (“Y’know, Chris,” said Mike, “Julia was really kind of an icon in Tucson!”). It was weird because, in addition to talking about her, a number of pieces of furniture in their home were pieces built by Julia in her days as a furniture builder. So it seemed like in a way she was there too. As awesome as the picture they painted of Julia was, it makes me wonder if they weren’t asking each other after I left, “How did she end up with that dork?!” I better delete all my posts about my comic book geekery and stuff like that, pronto.

Mike and me went downstairs so he could play me a track he just recorded in Seattle of a cover of “Helter Skelter,” the Beatles classic, that is going to appear on a Beatles tribute disc, with him on lead vocal. It sounded great. We then proceeded to surf eBay for gear, YouTube for band clips, and talk a little rock. It was fun. Mike is also a painter; Angela took this picture of us with a portrait of Lemmy that he is working on:

Note the satanic symbol on Mike’s chest.

I enjoyed my time there; I’m looking forward to imposing on them again some time.

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