A few words from Chris

A few words from Chris concerning last night’s Rolling Stone Private Concert Series presentation of Hoobastank:
Last night I attended the Rolling Stone Private Concert Series presentation of Hoobastank, which, I’d better just tell you straight away, is a name some guys gave their band. It was a funny thing at a funny place during a funny time in our nation’s history.* Now I’ll give you what I’d have traded almost anything for last night — the abridged version:
8:15 – 8:50 pm The opening band, Die Trying, plays. A bassist who looks like Josh Hartnett aside, I detect no reason that this band should possess any level of fame. Strip all guitar and vocal hooks from the Get Up Kids circa Four Minute Mile (not a time-intensive task) and you have the songs of Die Trying. But they’re fun to watch because the lead singer is such a dipshit. Chained to no instrument, he is able to jumble around awkwardly (dance?) and repeatedly thrust the trusty goat horns roofward — he brandished the horns with, honestly, the consistency that most of us draw breath. He also sneered a lot, which demonstrated a rakish disrespect for the proceedings/the man/parents/his own shitty emo vocals. Between songs he brought out some spectacular material, though. A partial list of quotes (all delivered with an enthusiastic cry, goat horns aloft): “New York, let me hear you SCREAM!!” “Okay, New York: Let me see your horns!!” “Who here loves to FUCK?!! I’m gonna say it one more time: Who here loves to FUCK!!!” “Okay, New York: get loud for me!!!” “New York, you guys have been great!!” It should be noted, in light of this last statement, that the crowd could not have responded less enthusiastically to Shitbrain’s demands for noise and horn display unless everyone had en masse laid down on the floor of Bowery Ballroom and observed naptime (only a handful did).
9:00 – 9:15 Corporate stooge from Rolling Stone gets on the mic; he rants, yammers, and barks some of the most confused, hateful promotional muck I’ve ever heard. In a tone that simultaneously mocked corporate capitalism, bemoaned and celebrated his own minorly powerful position in it, expressed hatred for anyone under thirty, and condescended to all of music fandom, this expired cocoon of a man harangued the audience for fifteen minutes with demands that we go buy the products associated with the event’s sponsors. He just went down the list: “A big thanks to Altoids! I want everyone to go out and buy Altoids tomorrow! BUY ALTOIDS! They’re paying for you to see Hoobastank tonight for free! How long’s it been since you had a BabyRuth! [answers shouted from the crowd] That’s TOO LONG!! Buy BabyRuth! Do it tomorrow! They’re paying for your show and your beer tonight!! They’re PAYING for it! Who watches the Discovery Channel! Watch it! For the brain! Order it from your cable company tomorrow! THEY’RE PAYING FOR YOUR BEER!!! THAT’S A GOOD DEAL!!!” He actually said: “Thanks to Hoobastank for bringing it up to the mainstream!!”, which I think even amateur ironists found amusing. And then came this great piece of advice: “Hoobastank’s got a new album coming out in 8 weeks! Go out and buy it — I know I will — and do it with a Heineken in your hand!” His editorial vision goes beyond a call for Sam Goody to vend beer, though: “Buy the album! What a concept! Actually paying for the cd! [angrily] Don’t burn it from a friend, don’t download it — BUY IT!! Cash on the counter for Hoobastank!!” ** A little cash on the counter for Hoobastank. I swear that’s his wording, not mine. So yeah, this guy put a bad taste in everybody’s mouth. If this had been medieval times, the crowd would have pulled him off the stage and broken his ribs.
9:00 – ? Hoobastank plays. Actually, they were fine. Though the musical arrangements were like another day at the office, Lead Singer was very charismatic and nice. He didn’t do any posing or any between song audience stoking (he substituted nice-guy chit-chat), and thus he became a hero for we who were coming off an hour and a half of watching the retard from Die Trying and the gooniest dick at Rolling Stone. I would never buy Hoobastank’s cd, cuz the music was truly uninteresting (I left after four identical songs). But don’t worry! I’d never download it or burn it either. The most intriguing thing about Hoobastank is their name, which I can contemplate for free. I suspect naming your band Hoobastank has everything to do with being in highschool. The trick is to change it when you’re older and realize what you’ve done. When they all turned 21, The Beatles didn’t hesitate to replace their original name, Snizzlebutt, with something more befitting their age. Likewise for Red Hot Chili Peppers, who formed under the moniker Snizzlestank. We Are Scientists, who happily converted their name from Snatchwhistle in 2001, urges Hoobastank to shed the vestiges of their childhood. Also to write better songs.
* President GWB at a press conference yesterday: “I am mindful that we’re all sinners. And I caution those who may try to take the speck out of their neighbor’s eye when they got [sic, obviously] a log in their own.” (NYTimes, 7/31/2003) Confusion ensues. Is he trying to say that it’s folley to attempt minor eye surgery on your neighbor when your own eye is the one with a log in it? Or rather, the one what got a log in it? If so, then that’s a helpful reminder. But if he’s speaking metaphorically — like, ‘people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones’ — then I think he’d have been better served choosing one of English’s many time-tested idioms that run along those lines rather constructing his own. Although the Speck/Log thing is nice in that it’s unambiguous. The Glass House metaphor, for example, leaves some room for interpretation, I guess, whereas if a person with a log in his eye is criticizing someone with a speck in her eye on the grounds that the speck-woman “sure has a lot of wood in her eye”, then the log-guy is — you’ve got to hand it to Bush — a hypocrite and a fool, and would do well to consider the president’s admonition.
** An interesting annotation to this tender little reproach can be found in Hoobastank’s bio, where we discover that “In 1998, Hoobastank went worldwide with their self-released first album, They Sure Don’t Make Basketball Shorts Like They Used To. While the disc sold well at shows and local retailers, it took off online, expanding the band’s fan base to places as far away as England, Israel, Russia and Brazil.” Hmm. ‘Took off online’…is that like cash on the counter for Hoobastank at Sam Goody or something?

People, do we deliver, or

People, do we deliver, or what? Because we woke up this morning and were feeling kind, we’ve decided to go ahead and throw the out-of-print Bitching! EP up onto our “Songs” page in it’s entirety. There it is, you heathen masses – go at it with your crazed downloading. For too long now, we’ve protected our little baby behind a $7 price tag, but now that we’ve gone and run out of actual, physical copies, we’re just going to hang it out to dry there in MP3 form. Is this fair to those people who have actually paid for this music, we can almost hear you asking, and so we’ve already begun rolling our eyes in anticipation. Of course it is fair: what those people – those lucky few who got in on the ground floor – actually paid for was the cover art, which features photos of not one or two but – no! – all three members of the We Are Scientists, and which heavyweight journalist Roger Ebert himself has declared, “the handiest aid to onanism since the final act of The Muppets Take Manhattan!” So, there.
Also added to the page was one song from our new EP. It’s just a wee, unmastered sample of what’s in store. Why, you ask? Why are we so good to you? You, with the pudding stains and the G.E.D.? We don’t know. God help us, we don’t know.
Also, we have a show in Boston on August 6th, so if you have friends there, tell them to go, or, we swear to God, you and i will have words.


The members of We Are Scientists love fresh fruit. The fresher the better, says Michael, his mouth full of blackberries and his heart full of malice. We can’t help but notice, though, that most of our fans can’t tell a fresh piece of produce from a member of sensationl soul act Boyz II Men. All too often, we watch with only a small bit of amusement as one of the many dolts who constantly surround us bites eagerly into what he thinks is a soft, juicy apple, only to have the unripened fruit shatter his incisors like fine china against a prop propeller. So, in the interest of protecting you, the ignorant consumer, we offer these helpful tips and tricks for choosing only the choicest pieces of summer produce:


Rap on the side of the melon opposite the stem. If you hear a hollow “knocking” sound, this means that the fruit is ripe. If not, it means that your wife is cheating on you.

Golden Pineapple

If a pineapple at the market looks green, take a look at the base. If it has begun to turn a little orange or red there, this tells you that your job title is a laughable euphemism for the actual duties entailed by the position.


At the market select dry, firm fruits with excellent form and hollow centers. This will help distract you from the fact that your are forever victimized by predatory males.


Check the rind. If it feels puffy – that is, if it feels like there’s any space between it and the flesh – then the fruit is ripe and ready to be eaten. If, however, the skin feels taught, then that girl is only pretending to be pregnant so that you will marry her.

Honeydew Melon

Good aroma, color, freckles, and a sticky feel are the telltale signs of sweet honeydew. People tend to check the stem end of the melon to see if it’s soft, but this tells you only one thing – that these people are weak of mind and spirit, and can be easily felled by a hard karate chop to the throat and/or groin. Dig in!


With cherries, what you see is what you get. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for your cabinet. Do a background check on your Secretary of the Interior. You’ll find that he neither attended Harvard Law nor served in Washington, D.C. as Associate Solicitor of the U.S. Department of the Interior. Now take a closer look at the man himself. Surprised? He’s actually a 2 year old Bull Terrier.


WAS loves celebrities — loves them! So it comes as no surprise to us that we’ve decided to run a few pics of some of our very favorite big-screen personalities: Matthew Modine, Kathy Bates, Tom Selleck, Chris Tucker, and Sylvester Stallone.

See if you can guess which is which!

Surprise! Those were all Kathy Bates!

According to MSNBC, here are

According to MSNBC, here are some stats re: the firefight that killed Odai and Qusai Hussein:
“The brothers were killed in a six-hour gunbattle with about 200 U.S. troops on Tuesday.”
“10 TOW anti-tank missiles fired from Humvees had silenced most of the resistance, apparently killing three of the four suspects.”

200 soldiers!
Launching missiles!
At 4 men!
Who only had machine guns!
For six hours!
10 anti-tank missiles needed to kill three men, one of whom was a 14 year old boy!
Rambo appears to have lied to us. That or Stallone is the greatest fighting force this country’s got.

W.A.S. Espy Odd Ant, Refreshment

W.A.S. Espy Odd Ant, Refreshment
It was a big weekend for the gentleman republicans of We Are Scientists, what with two shows on Saturday night alone and a whole weekend’s worth of casual leisure packed into sixty-or-so hours. The shows were so milk-curdlingly, nut-bustingly hot, though, that there’s no sense trying to bottle the experience and serve it up here in verbal form.
It is, however, not only sensible but very important that you be told about a couple of things that we discovered on Saturday afternoon while in D.U.M.B.O. for a soundcheck.
The first we located in Peas and Pickles, an AllNite grocer/snackmart with the kind of comprehensive snacking selection that would make a hardened jailor weep. We asked the man who works the register, a well-aged Korean, when P & P closes; he didn’t respond, acted as though we had said nothing (nothing!). We asked again when they close, and he responded with maximum terseness: “Never close!” We take this as a moral dictate, and shall henceforth try to obey its absolutist proscription in all things.
But here is what we found squirreled away behind one of a dozen refrigerator doors dedicated to the non-alcoholic beverage trade:

Take a closer look:

“Welchito”, can you believe it? Verily, that is a short can of jugo de uva. “Welchito”, in Spanish, means “Cat’s bladder”; Beverage scientists came up with the name when, during a development session, one among their rank remarked that 222 mL is exactly how many milliliters of feline urine a cat can “stomach” (“bladder”?) before he must relieve himself. The ad campaign in South America features the tagline, “Welchito: How many can you stomach?”, which won a lot of awards, naturally.
The other thing we saw we saw on the sidewalk, a block or two from P & P, where we stopped to absorb the lovely river view of Manhattan and some Entenmann’s Chocolate Pop’ems.

Look at that beast! That’s a big ant! It occurs to us now that we should have done a few shots of him next to a pencil or a Welchito for scale, but, stupidly, we didn’t. What’s really amazing about this ant, though — what really caught our eye — is the ratio of Butt to Rest Of Ant (B/RoA), which is staggeringly high in this ant’s case (60/1?). Look at this:

Striking. One pretty neat trick we were able to teach this promising, if gruesomely malformed, ant was the old Ball Up. The cue that we gave him so he’d know it was time to assume Ball Up posture is that we’d set a can of soda atop him, closing him into the shady world below the can-bottom’s cold aluminum dome. Once in there, he had the privacy necessary to cobble himself into this posture:

Incredible. Look closer:

Once the jokes about our little friend kissing his own ass subsided, there was a rather solemn silence during which time each of us quietly made peace with the fact that we’d never be half the athlete this little Evel Knievel is.
If we were to sum up the weekend graphically, this is how we’d do it:

Scenes from the Boda Dome: General Huffy Discusses the New Weapon w/ Ratley (telephone transcript 26414.51, JUL/14/33)

ring ring…ring ring…ring ring

RATLEY: Hello. R&D.

HUFFY: General Huffy, here. I want the status on our new weapons system, ASAP.

RATLEY: Well, I can give it to you now, how’s that? Is now good?

HUFFY: Yes. Report.

RATLEY: Okay, um, it’s ready.

HUFFY: Why wasn’t I told about this!

RATLEY: Well, when did you want to be told? We just finished it like twenty minutes ago.

HUFFY: I need to be brought up to speed on developments of this nature A-S-A-P, you got me Ratley? Absolutely A-S-A-P! Stat!

RATLEY: Well, when should we have told you?



HUFFY: Ratley, do you know what ASAP means?!

RATLEY: Yes, Gen-

HUFFY: It means as quickly as humanly possible! Do you get me!

RATLEY: Um, yeah, but that’s not what ASAP means. It means as soon a-

HUFFY: Ratley I do not give a good god damn what you think! Not one good god damn, do you get me, Ratley?

RATLEY: Yes, General.

HUFFY: Do! You! Get me!!!

RATLEY: Yes. I don’t know what else to say besides yes. Yes. Affirmative.

HUFFY: Ratley, I want you to report on the new weapons system ASAP.

RATLEY: Um, it’s doing well. All, um…All systems go, I guess.

HUFFY: What is the exkrat?

RATLEY: Um, the exkrat? I’m not…I’m not sure wha-

HUFFY: Ratley! What is the Expected Kill Ratio, if you please!

RATLEY: Right, um…I would say good. Good to very good, I guess. Medium to high.

HUFFY: I need numbers, Ratley! Numbers!

RATLEY: Oh yeah, uhhhhmmmm…. three out of five, let’s say. Or, uh, three point five.

HUFFY: What are you telling me, Ratley?! I need an accurate gauge of this weapon’s destructive capability! It is your job to give me this gauge! Now please report on that gauge!

RATLEY: Okay, well, lemme just…I mean, I’d say pretty high, cuz, like, it’s got the flame, um, parts, y’know…the things that shoot the flames. And then…well, the blade-dealies, the slice-n-dicer thingers…. plus, uh… that…fin…thing, um….with the feathers and the, uh…little, uh, dialer; the, the, rotary-dialer guy on there… I don’t know, general, honestly, what the kilrat is. I’d say like a hundred percent. A hundred percent?

HUFFY: One hundred percent?! Outstanding, Ratley!! How soon can we deploy?!

RATLEY: Uh…I guess, I guess whenever you wanna come down and get it, you could, um, dep-, deploy it. I suppose.

HUFFY: Outstanding!

RATLEY: Okay. So-

HUFFY: Outstanding, Ratley!

RATLEY: Um, okay. So I’ll just leave it out on the desk, and you can get it whenever. I’ll probably be at lunch for the next hour or so, but if you want to come by, I’ll just leave it on the desk, under a paper towel or something.

HUFFY: Outstanding, Ratley. You’ll receive a medal for this, mark my words.

RATLEY: Okay. I’m gonna grab some lunch, then.

HUFFY: You’ll get more than lunch, Ratley; you’re going to receive a medal! What do you think of that!

RATLEY: Honestly? That sounds terrific, General. I’d- but I think I’m going to go eat real fast. If that’s okay…

HUFFY: Go right ahead my friend–the Republic salutes you!

RATLEY: Yes. I salute them, uh… also.

Scientific MAKEOVER

Rick’s from Cincinatti, where he runs wild with a pack of dogs; for Rick, scavenging, rulership of the hills, and the caress of a gentle breeze as you sleep are a way of life.

We played around with Rick’s look, and we think you’ll agree that the results should help him to hump all the bitches that have been eluding him.

Don’t take our word for it…

Uh oh!

Yes yes yes!!! Here come da humping!!

Any bitches reading this are almost certainly in heat at this point!

MAAAAKE-OOOOOVERRRRRRRRR!!!! A look like this might even give Rick a shot at some human females! Can you dig it? Or can you not, and therefore you have brain damage?






Final test: what do the ladies think?

“Rick…is something different? Did you lose weight?”

“I brought you some flowers, Rick. Go ahead…take them. Rrrrrrick…”

WOW!!! Another successful


Hi!� I am hopig you will be of service to me.� I am trying to find out what something is made of.� I get hair extentions and my stylist has a new medthod for the extentions. however the new treatment is extremetly costly. too costly. ( even for her to buy the hair..� ( if she knew what the piece that holds the hair strand together was made of, she could have it made herself.� Do you know of such a company that will analyze this piece for her / us?� or can you do it?� Please let me know.� It is very important to her to find put just what this is made of. it feels like the thin part of a horses nail. sounds weird I know.� thank you for your help [)) -ed.]
Janet ____
Holy shit, Janet!
Holy shit, we would love to do the analysis you require. Please give us the contract! (How will you beat our bid on this contract? Our bid of “free”?) Frankly, analyzing mystery compounds is something of a passionate hobby for us; we are a band first, yes, but most weeks our time sheets would probably show more man-hours spent on analyses of enigmatic substances than on anything related to music. In fact, we spent much of this morning analyzing a disgusting grey/green ball of nastiness that we found in the bathtub drain…(beat)…turned out it was Amanda Peet’s career!
But seriously, Janet, we take this job very seriously. Let’s put our thinking caps on and take a look at the clues. Now, you say that this new method of extending hair relies on a “piece” that “holds the hair strand together”, something like “the thin part of a horse nail”, apparently. There are three major methods of hair extension: Heat-sealed synthetic extensions (the ‘Dome’ method), Pinch-braided synthetic extensions (the ‘Hairpolice’ method), and Temporary loose extensions. I think we can throw out Temporary loose extensions for obvious reasons — that’s clearly not what the hell you’re talking about! Since Pinch-braided extensions rely on the use of a single length of thread or string incorporated into the 4-way plait at the top of the hair, it’s ulikely we’re talking about that shit right there either. No, we’re almost certainly looking at the Dome method, in which your own hair is braided with synthetic hair for about half an inch with a 4-way ‘box’ braid, which braid is then wrapped in more synthetic hair and heated to create a seal that can last months (hot tip: don’t have a Prostyles C2 heat clamp handy? Try applying rubber cement to the braided/seal area and lighting it on fire–save time by doing all the hairs at once…works like a charm and it’s fun! Make sure a friend has a camera and a tape recorder!)
So your stylist has some sort of new material that she can use to seal the extensions, but it’s very expensive and she’d like to circumvent the middle-man and buy straight from the supplier? We know exactly the stuff you’re talking about, and it’s expensive for a reason: it’s horse nail. Needless to say, horse nail is singularly difficult to harvest, especially the thin part, which is what you need. The fact is that the prices your stylist is probably looking at (somewhere in the neighborhood of $1000/bucket is standard) aren’t the result of a greedy intermediary, but rather because horse nail is super, duper rare. We recommend that you just pony up the cash — the stuff is worth every penny. Advantages include:
Strength: extensions will last years and are so strong you can tie pool balls to the end of every strand, if you want. You can tow cars or swing from bridges.
Smell: a pleasant scent, musty, powerful, evocative of chestnut or horse.
Taste: mouth-watering flavor; sharp, well defined, with a robust finish and plankton-y aftertaste.
What else can we say? Get out there and get some horse-nail extensions!!! Get a few of ’em!! We’ve all got ’em and love ’em!, did we mention that? C’est vrai!
Bon soir,
we are scientists, the

Players: Things are good. It's

Things are good. It’s been a few days away from the band for everybody, and here’s the conversaion we’re likely to have tonight when we meet at Keith’s house for our first practice since early last week:
k How are the models?
c I slept with all of them.
m Nice!
K Wow! All of them?
c Well, which ones?
k The swimsuit models you pointed out in the magazine store last week.
c Oh, no. I was talking abou the model airplanes. I fell asleep while I was working on them. No, I still haven’t gotten any contact info or anything for the swimsuit models.
k Oh, that’s cool.
m How do the planes look?
c Great! I smashed one with my head, but otherwise…
k Very nice.
m How was Miami, Kip?
k Pretty hot! [enthusiastically]
c Literally, I bet!! [laughs]
k [laughs]
m [laughs] Nice…
k How was things here? D’ja hit some sweet parties?
m Totally. Totally sweet. Totally ‘deck’.
k Oh yeah, ‘deck’.
m Chris went to Boston.
c I went to Boston; ‘Bean Town’, if you will.
k Does anyone actually call it ‘Bean Town’?
c Yes. Everyone in Boston calls their city ‘Bean Town’.
m It’s cuz they’ve got all those banks full of ‘bean counters’! [laughs]
k [laughs]
c [laughs] Nice…
We’ve got a show or two this weekend, powerful new advice on that one page, and, frankly, some red-hot tips on some racing ponies that supposedly have some sort of really good shot at winning or something.