__ V. The Slam Gunther Incident
11:00am - Maude’s Café - Gainesville, Florida - The Center of the Universe. 1 Clove, inserted in mouth, burning. 1 glass of white wine, staring at me, wondering to itself, when is he going to start or stop drinking? I take a sip and begin the chapter about the Slam Gunther Incident.
Slam Gunther is my own invention. I have many specific details about his back-story written up. But for the purposes of Project r, I prefer to recount them here as I remember them, not necessarily as they happened, and of course, they never really happened, did they? Well, something happened.
I’ll start at the end: Slam Gunther was lost at sea after allegedly being pushed over the side of a cruise ship by his new wife, Performance artist and ‘art’ film star, Khandi Starr. Slam Gunther’s body was never found and Khandi Starr was arrested for the crime.
A month later, she escaped from prison in Europe and the only thing left in her jail cell was 1 yellow book-pressed yellow flower and a memory stick for a computer (what a beautiful name for a piece of modern technology; a memory stick) which contained an unreleased track from the U.S. Rock-n-Roll band, The Righteous Kind. The song was, ‘Let Freedom Ring’.
You see, Slam Gunther was an original member of, The Righteous Kind, a sixties-style band, before I replaced him as the bass player. Our band issued this statement:
“The band is very disappointed with this sad news. We have worked so hard on this new album and were hoping to surprise our friends and fans on our own terms with the release of our new song. This kind of mishandling of intellectual property we see every day, and it hurts the artist and the fans. We hope this track won’t circulate around to any other news media. Why Khandi Starr had access to our secret recording files and why she did this, we may never know. We hope Khandi is returned to justice. Our thoughts now are only with Slam, and our upcoming tribute show will go on as scheduled.” -- The Righteous Kind
I remember Slam as a charismatic fellow with all the Bohemian chutzpa one would expect from a hard drinking pot smoking drug using sex addict who, as it happened, also had a raw fast natural aptitude for the electric bass guitar. He used to tell me, “Roberto,” (he never could remember my name) “I do not practice of the bass, I only play.”
He had long blond hair, wore outlandish red pants, fur coats, jewelry, and had a dick the size of a summer zucchini that could never be missed. It led him as he strutted which is what he did instead of walking. The outline of this organ looked painted into the leg of his pants. And then there was his odd goatee mustachio. Sometimes it looked glued on, and sometimes I could swear it appeared drawn on with magic marker.
There are major plot holes and unfathomable inconsistencies. Reason presents itself to doubt. And yet, his charisma kept analytical thoughts at bay. How can you doubt a man from Europe when you are sharing the biggest hand-rolled spliff of sticky red-haired flowering tops of the female cannabis plant? No need to ask a question or know an answer when you’re smoking weed with Slam Gunther.
And now, I’ll end at the beginning using documentation, notes, eye-witnesses, and empirical evidence:
SLAM GUNTHER’S BIOGRAPHY - From the Slam Gunther Home Page on the World Wide Web:
Last Log In: 8/18/2008
About Me:
I greet you. I was born in Germany and spent many years growing up in the rough neighborhoods where I ran prostitutes for money. It was not the life I choose for me, and so I discover music to change everything for the better. I go to artist school and become artist painter, and begin to paint my backside to impress women. I am discovered by a man named Einrich Hassl who transport me back and forth from Germany to U.S. And Then I get in trouble.
To disguise myself, I pretend to be a man called, Tom Miller and live in Gainesville, Florida many years undetected until I meet Guru, Charles Ray, who was also in disguise.
I meet a drummer next, and then a man who has biggest organ and is philosopher. He say to us, “Be who we are to make music and spread love, as we did in the 60’s.” So we make a band.
Later, police drop all charges for lack of evidence and I can now be myself, so long as I stay in U.S. never to return to my homeland. I miss my prostitutes but there are many here as well, only they are shaven of their hair. I play electric bass in band, The Righteous Kind, and am allowed to speak as I wish on microphone to our many people who love us. I say anything I want and is okay. No one will remove my limbs.
There is no more to tell yet, but soon as we arrive to be famous, I will say more. Until then, may everyone love in peace and with great loud Rock-n-Roll.
-- Slam Gunther
Who I’d Like To Meet:
I would like to meet women who can shave away their hair, and also who are fast in bed. Also, those who will go quickly in the morning. I enjoy to meet President Bush to tell him I do not care for him. I would like to find place to smoke hash, but is not legal yet. So I wait. I want to meet bass player from Anthrax. He can play very fast and I like to learn how he can go so fast.
So for about two years, Slam Gunther, no longer restricted by having to pretend to be me, was free to be himself. I envied his talent. But then, she came. Khandi Starr. She changed him. He became someone else, someone I no longer knew.
And off they went. He became unreliable for The Righteous Kind, showing up late for gigs, saying wholly inappropriate things at the live shows, and arriving to performances so drunk his remarkable and legendary bass playing suffered. Slam and the band parted ways and he and Khandi left, presumably to make ‘art’ films, recite poetry, and get as high as inhumanly possible.
It didn’t take long before they decided to get married. In the meantime, because I had studied with Slam on the electric bass, it was a natural transition for me to replace him in the band. After all, there were many things we had in common. I have even been mistaken for Slam Gunther in real life. “Slam, did you get a haircut and a shave?”
Then, the tragedy: Slam Gunther, lost at sea. What happened, how it happened, why it happened is still a mystery as I pen this account.
These are, in a way, the same mysteries philosophers have been opining about forever: How? Why? Lost at sea.
As for me, I think he’s still out there, somewhere, stoned out of his mind, and swinging his enormous dick in the wind.
11:00am - Maude’s Café - Gainesville, Florida - The Center of the Universe. 1 Clove, inserted in mouth, burning. 1 glass of white wine, staring at me, wondering to itself, when is he going to start or stop drinking? I take a sip and begin the chapter about the Slam Gunther Incident.
Slam Gunther is my own invention. I have many specific details about his back-story written up. But for the purposes of Project r, I prefer to recount them here as I remember them, not necessarily as they happened, and of course, they never really happened, did they? Well, something happened.
I’ll start at the end: Slam Gunther was lost at sea after allegedly being pushed over the side of a cruise ship by his new wife, Performance artist and ‘art’ film star, Khandi Starr. Slam Gunther’s body was never found and Khandi Starr was arrested for the crime.
A month later, she escaped from prison in Europe and the only thing left in her jail cell was 1 yellow book-pressed yellow flower and a memory stick for a computer (what a beautiful name for a piece of modern technology; a memory stick) which contained an unreleased track from the U.S. Rock-n-Roll band, The Righteous Kind. The song was, ‘Let Freedom Ring’.
You see, Slam Gunther was an original member of, The Righteous Kind, a sixties-style band, before I replaced him as the bass player. Our band issued this statement:
“The band is very disappointed with this sad news. We have worked so hard on this new album and were hoping to surprise our friends and fans on our own terms with the release of our new song. This kind of mishandling of intellectual property we see every day, and it hurts the artist and the fans. We hope this track won’t circulate around to any other news media. Why Khandi Starr had access to our secret recording files and why she did this, we may never know. We hope Khandi is returned to justice. Our thoughts now are only with Slam, and our upcoming tribute show will go on as scheduled.” -- The Righteous Kind
I remember Slam as a charismatic fellow with all the Bohemian chutzpa one would expect from a hard drinking pot smoking drug using sex addict who, as it happened, also had a raw fast natural aptitude for the electric bass guitar. He used to tell me, “Roberto,” (he never could remember my name) “I do not practice of the bass, I only play.”
He had long blond hair, wore outlandish red pants, fur coats, jewelry, and had a dick the size of a summer zucchini that could never be missed. It led him as he strutted which is what he did instead of walking. The outline of this organ looked painted into the leg of his pants. And then there was his odd goatee mustachio. Sometimes it looked glued on, and sometimes I could swear it appeared drawn on with magic marker.
There are major plot holes and unfathomable inconsistencies. Reason presents itself to doubt. And yet, his charisma kept analytical thoughts at bay. How can you doubt a man from Europe when you are sharing the biggest hand-rolled spliff of sticky red-haired flowering tops of the female cannabis plant? No need to ask a question or know an answer when you’re smoking weed with Slam Gunther.
And now, I’ll end at the beginning using documentation, notes, eye-witnesses, and empirical evidence:
SLAM GUNTHER’S BIOGRAPHY - From the Slam Gunther Home Page on the World Wide Web:
Last Log In: 8/18/2008
About Me:
I greet you. I was born in Germany and spent many years growing up in the rough neighborhoods where I ran prostitutes for money. It was not the life I choose for me, and so I discover music to change everything for the better. I go to artist school and become artist painter, and begin to paint my backside to impress women. I am discovered by a man named Einrich Hassl who transport me back and forth from Germany to U.S. And Then I get in trouble.
To disguise myself, I pretend to be a man called, Tom Miller and live in Gainesville, Florida many years undetected until I meet Guru, Charles Ray, who was also in disguise.
I meet a drummer next, and then a man who has biggest organ and is philosopher. He say to us, “Be who we are to make music and spread love, as we did in the 60’s.” So we make a band.
Later, police drop all charges for lack of evidence and I can now be myself, so long as I stay in U.S. never to return to my homeland. I miss my prostitutes but there are many here as well, only they are shaven of their hair. I play electric bass in band, The Righteous Kind, and am allowed to speak as I wish on microphone to our many people who love us. I say anything I want and is okay. No one will remove my limbs.
There is no more to tell yet, but soon as we arrive to be famous, I will say more. Until then, may everyone love in peace and with great loud Rock-n-Roll.
-- Slam Gunther
Who I’d Like To Meet:
I would like to meet women who can shave away their hair, and also who are fast in bed. Also, those who will go quickly in the morning. I enjoy to meet President Bush to tell him I do not care for him. I would like to find place to smoke hash, but is not legal yet. So I wait. I want to meet bass player from Anthrax. He can play very fast and I like to learn how he can go so fast.
So for about two years, Slam Gunther, no longer restricted by having to pretend to be me, was free to be himself. I envied his talent. But then, she came. Khandi Starr. She changed him. He became someone else, someone I no longer knew.
And off they went. He became unreliable for The Righteous Kind, showing up late for gigs, saying wholly inappropriate things at the live shows, and arriving to performances so drunk his remarkable and legendary bass playing suffered. Slam and the band parted ways and he and Khandi left, presumably to make ‘art’ films, recite poetry, and get as high as inhumanly possible.
It didn’t take long before they decided to get married. In the meantime, because I had studied with Slam on the electric bass, it was a natural transition for me to replace him in the band. After all, there were many things we had in common. I have even been mistaken for Slam Gunther in real life. “Slam, did you get a haircut and a shave?”
Then, the tragedy: Slam Gunther, lost at sea. What happened, how it happened, why it happened is still a mystery as I pen this account.
These are, in a way, the same mysteries philosophers have been opining about forever: How? Why? Lost at sea.
As for me, I think he’s still out there, somewhere, stoned out of his mind, and swinging his enormous dick in the wind.