Fuck the Dead!

Ok, ok…that might be a little harsh. Maybe. But after playing Grateful Dead covers for years I kinda got sick of ‘em. But what’s more, I got sick to death of their fans. You know the ones…the ones that seem to compare every piece of music to the dead, they must hold all guitar players (from every genre) up to a special ‘Jerry comparison’ or something…I don’t know…just seemed to get old. Really. Fast.

But now I see I had a point, but about the wrong kind of Dead fan. After I read the story below, I could imagine the sound of Jerry spinning in his grave to be that of a jet engine. I mean, good god, Ann Coulter is a Dead fan? What’s next, a plague of frogs? The radical right has pulled off the biggest heist of all time! They’ve co-opted the Dead! I’d rather be in a scrum with 30 unwashed, patchouli scented, deadheads singin’ That’s It For The Other One out of tune, while shoving used Thai-sticks in my eyes, for the entirety of the rest of my life than to have Ann Coulter on this planet for a single minute more. The woman is poison. And I will speak of her no more.