A Navel-Gazing Origin Story (as opposed to a Naval-Gazing Orange Storey)

Big Henry in "Mentholated marching powder up the nose":



I just ran across a few of these "Big Henry" comic strips I created for the original Celebrity Cola back in the day (yes, I was obviously under the influence of Max Cannon's RED MEAT at the time).

For the uninitiated, Celebrity Cola began as a fake news-type website that lampooned celebrity culture and political hype. It was kinda like the old National Lampoon Magazine meets The Onion meets The National Enquirer. It also satirically poked fun at worshipful celebrity websites and fansites, for the amusement of our few dedicated readers. And, for better or worse (but probably worse), it had an entirely sophomoric, sex-based sense of humor, with lots of images of scantily clad women that we didn’t actually have the copyright permission to use (but, dang, they was hot).

I was the editor and primary writer of the site, which was part of the larger (and far more noble) RoboFilms.com enterprise. When RoboFilms went belly-up, Celebrity Cola lost its server and disappeared from the Internet... and none of us felt inspired to find a new home for it (nor did anyone offer – there were some decent jokes, gags, and graphics on the site, but nothing worthy of the hundreds of hours we’d put into it or the cost of web-hosting and domain-owning and upkeep).

RoboFilms.com, on the other hand, was a great site -- it was briefly a hot property acclaimed by the likes of USA Today, and it got some nice recognition for it's sleek, simple design and the super-indie-minded nature of it's films. (Essentially, RoboFilms was intended as DIY alternative to "the man," e.g., AtomFilms.com or iFilm.com, and showcased experimental indie shorts, avant-garde comedies, politically progressive material, and some of the early work of the most-excellent Homestarrunner.com guys).

However, with no profit-scheme in place, we eventually ran out of cash and couldn't afford to host the site ad-free any longer. (Streaming high-quality short films to thousands of people gets expensive, and updating and improving the site was incredibly time-consuming. And there were also plenty of backroom shenanigans and power struggles and fishy investors lurking about, but that’s another story for another time).

So the UGO network kindly took us on, offering to cover our server and domain costs and provide marketing (while promptly demoralizing us by dominating a 6th of our layout with cheesy ads). But even with tens of thousands of visitors, we still weren't generating enough ad-clicks to satisfy Ugo, and none of us ever really saw a dime (and we were tired and restless and bored and poor and our once tight-knit group was spreading across the country as unfocused artsy-types are wont to do). So, eventually, Ugo.com swallowed up our domains and we all sauntered off toward other pursuits.

When I decided to start this blog, I thought I'd call it "Celebrity Cola" as an inside joke. But these "Big Henry" comix are still chuckle-worthy, IMHO, so I thought I'd go ahead and post a few.

Whatevah, right?

Historical note: The only old-school Celebrity Cola story still online is located at, of all things, the website of a company that sells shoe lifts. ShoeLift.com apparently thought that a parody I wrote was a legit news item, so they picked up the story -- and still have it running as one of their top news articles to this day. They've entitled the fake article "TOM CRUISE WEARS SHOELIFTS!!!!!!" (Personally, I think it's awesome that they stole my text, which describes how Cruise is suffering from a rare disease that makes him shorter by the year.)

Later, my work on the original Celebrity Cola came full circle when I was hired to do some legit field reporting regarding Nicole Kidman for the The National Enquirer. Oh, the irony...

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For a look at my other surviving "Big Henry" comic strips, visit:

Comix: Big Henry & Baghead Bob Joyfully Asphyxiate the Bourgeois.


The Final Nail in the Coffin of Punk Rock

If the ongoing pop-punk phenomena, the popularity of faux-punks Avril Lavigne and Kid Rock, dreary rock radio, mass-maufactured hip-hop, Clear Channel, and the corporate-monopoly-controlled music industry had yet to convince you that mainstream music had congealed into the devil incarnate, well, maybe that’s because you’d heard that Creed had finally split up (there is a god!). However, Saturday night, I spit out my tea while watching Saturday Night Live.

And not because SNL was shockingly unfunny (we’re all used to that by now, but I decided to watch because Jude Law was hosting, and I was on a "I Heart Huckabees" high). No, I spit up my Earl Grey because the Punk-fakin’ Ashley Simpson shot her career in the foot on live TV. (Ah! Now this is why SNL is worth watching! Still, it’s a shame Tina Fey hasn’t dumped this albatross in favor of writing and acting in something more decent).

The “Rock ‘n’ Roll” Simpson sister later fessed up to MTV News:

"Ashlee Owns Up, Takes Responsibility For 'SNL' Lip-Synch Snafu" (This article was later updated and renamed to make Ashlee appear more sympathetic. It's now called "Ashlee Blames Gastric Distress For 'SNL' Lip-Synch Snafu" and aims to make the reader feel bad about this terrible medical condition Ashlee has that forced her to lip-sync. Yeah, right? Maybe MTV news wouldn't have changed this article if Ashlee didn't have her own show on the same network. That's the world of hard-core MTV journalism for you. Half-assed Viacom news you can trust as much as your uncle with the booze problem.)

Apparently Simpson was also supposed to act in three SNL skits as well, but, as far as I know, they all got mysteriously scrapped -- so I wonder if she wasn't causing trouble during the entire rehearsal process for the show. I'd bet anything that an angry sound guy or balls-of-steel/career-suicidal associate producer purposely yanked those wrong lip-sync vocals up on her early as revenge of some sort. Which is an awesome thing to do. More talentless hacks need to be exposed like this.

The fact that she first stormed off stage in a hissy fit and then blamed her band for the mistake are clear signs she's a bit of a prissy diva, to say the least -- so much for her being the smart, hip, DIY punk-rocker her marketing machine has sold her as. She hass officially revealed just how much no-talent she has in common with her sister, the walkin 'n' talkin' uber-dumb-blonde-joke Jessica. Watching the smiles grow across the faces of bratty brunette Ash's bandmates (who actually seemed be playing their instruments, and who handled the snafu with professional aplomb, despite the fact that they’re playing in a soulless sell-out band) was priceless.

Of course, Britney Spears got caught lip-syncing non-stop in front a television audience of millions on an HBO special in 2001 (now preserved for prosperity on DVD) and it didn’t hurt her career -- it just became a running joke, and nothing more. And plenty of other pop superstars have overcome the same hurdle with little trouble. With Michael and Janet Jackson, for instance, fans like to defend all the lip-syncing by explaining that the Jacksons “have to dance a lot at the same time.” Well, so do Broadway performers, but they’d never get away with constant lip-syncing; so why should we expect less of our much-better-paid pop stars?

The other excuse often used is that “it wasn’t a lip-syncing, it was just a back-up track used to enhance the vocals!,” which is such B.S. -- if a musician needs electronic backing vocals overpowering their real voice, then they shouldn't be singing in the first place. Why even perform on stage, when it would be much more fun watching professional dancers, super models, or drag queens lip-syncing the paltry tunes instead of the hack singers themselves? Why do audiences fall for this? Why did Jessica Simpson’s record and concert sales skyrocket after she revealed just how brain dead she is on her funny-because-she’s-obnoxious reality show, “Newlyweds”?

And how can we possibly worry about the upcoming presidential elections when the music world is falling down around our designer heels?