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Author: Subject: You Are What You Is
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Registered: 29-8-2006
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[*] posted on 6-11-2010 at 19:08
You Are What You Is

Is this Phase II of Joe's Garage? Maybe. Is this sides 7-10 of the continuing story of Joe from the Garage without the hissing poot- chortle of the evil denizen of futility The Central Scrutinizer? Could be. Is there a happy ending? Depends on what you think is happy.
This wonderfully sonic tweaze-ship of frank Zappa beadlets begins it's merry traipsing with the youth engorged claptrap of mindless escapism exhotrting any and all to be as free as is stupidly possible. Our story takes off in a gust of wind and rapidly drops us into some poorly lit saloon with a tale describing another kind of freedom. Namely being let go by someone who probably wouldn't want Joe anyway. As Jimmy Carl Black puts it, "I don't want our love affair to end in a fight."
But all of a sudden in struts Doreen. An '80's bombshell if ever I seen one. A kind of updated Magic Fingers that just rocks in bright red lights, glam shoes and insistent soulsmacking harmonies, call and response, low-frequencyharmonic modalities and wrenching guitar all over the top. Woops! Like a floor-dropping chute that opens before us, we drop again into gurgling goblin land. It seems subterranean in here and you probably shouldn't drink that water but the Goblin Girl herself is not just from a mystery land. But everybody else seems congregated here, Jimmy Carl Black, the guys singing 'bout Doreen and these other googly characitures. Once again the backdrop falls away, and the gem encrusted underworld reveals itself in all the splendour of the Theme from 3rd movement of sinister Footwear. And then Joe pops out.
What happens next follows in rapid succession: the story in The Society Pages keeping people dumb, The Beautiful Guy who's the son of the Society Pages lady and makes her feel special, but not pretty enough. Beauty Knows No Pain stands as a thundering admonition to those who would worry about such tings. It could always be worse, the creepy narrator seems to tell us -- Hey! was that the Central Scrutinizer? It's hard to tell anymore as the story takes a dive in another direction. Worse? Right down Charlie's Enormous Mouth along with everything else right into the grave. A heavier number with the demise of mr or missus Charlie that their friends should have been able to avoid, but now all they can think of is if there's Any Downers? Well, no surprise really, whether the papers or the teevee we get drawn in by what seems entertaining, like the Conehead.
Which is as good a place as any to stop and ask ourselves "Do you know what you are?". You Are What You Is. After all, in such a parade of so many different colorful characters it's easy to get lost.
"If you don't like what you has got/ drop it in the dirt and let it rot. //
Someone else will surely come/ and pick it up 'cuz he wants some. //
There will come a day/ I wonder too who I was anyway/ I use to work at the post office".

Well, he ends up at the Mudd Club where twisting and frooging has become a way of life for still more walk-on characters. Meanwhile still others take their religimous officers entirely too seriously and will get a whole lotta nothin for their sacrifice and timidity. Just in the nick of time the voice of the Central Scruitinizer flies in again with a message that sounds quite the opposite of any the Scrutinizer might regularly say. Really this triptych of audio sermonizing is essential for understanding Frank's general beef with the monching churchnuts and their minions. The Meek All Over Shall Inherit No Heavenly Bank Account. Leave it to the TV Preachers, eh? Ahead of his time. In desperation poor synchophated Joe or someone like him wonders what's the use of livin? But scolded as a Suicide Chump he becomes rescued from his impending doom by the nearest random strolling bovine who saves him just in time for dinner. More rescuing, more debate, more judgemental commands until left by himself he wishes what could never be. Left at this extremity, cold hard reality hits him on the front door, with the certified mail delivery of his very own conscription orders. You Are What YOu Is. Teach Your Children. Don't let it happen to you.
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