By Jim Schutze
By Rachel Watts
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Anna Merlan
By Lee Escobedo
JaM's acid test
Thousands of North Texans are probably convinced their kids are druggies after seeing a particularly inane news-you-can-use graphic on Channel 5. The helpful advice came as a bonus during a report from Jammin' Jane McGarry on the Bedford junior high school LSD scandal. McGarry, backed up by a computer-generated graphic, shared with viewers the two warning signs of LSD-using kids: Their eyes might appear to be "glazed," and they might be "rebellious." "Glazed eyes" and "rebellious?" Isn't that the definition of the average adolescent?
Free the Arlington 10, please
Continuing its support of the nation's turn toward know-nothingism, the Fort Worth Star-Telegram is running daily reports on its hand-picked shadow jury, The Arlington 10, with its coverage of the O.J. Simpson trial. The S-T, if you remember, convened a panel of 10 Tarrant County folks to sit through the entire televised trial at the paper's Arlington office.
The comments of the panelists, who apparently have no special qualifications beyond having nothing better to do (no small feat), are transcribed by a reporter. High points of the panel's reactions during the first days of the trial, as reported in the pages of the paper:
On February 2, two panelists temporarily weren't speaking after arguing about the credibility of a prosecution witness.
On February 3, "The testiness started when a panelist asked someone to turn down the TV; her ears were ringing. Another viewer repeated the request; the person with the remote control snapped back that he had heard her the first time." In a personal moment, a panelist divulged that "her deceased husband once held a pistol to her son's head" and told other panelists, "You men don't know how women feel."
On February 7, the panel turned its attention to coiffure. "Wouldn't you think with all the money Robert Shapiro makes, he could afford a decent hairpiece?" one asked.
The Dallas-based Church of the SubGenius has reared the ugly head of "Bob" once again on the pop-culture front. Dallas filmmaker Ivan Stang, who is responsible for the parody cult which reveres J.R. "Bob" Dobbs, recently has taken his peculiar form of sacred theater on the The Jon Stewart Show. Even the Washington Post felt compelled to print a lengthy tongue-in-cheek exposŽ on the cult last week.
"Bob" is the chosen emissary of the alien space god Jehovah-1 who created all life on Earth and...well, you know. (If you've really got a hankering for SubGenius theology/folderol, help yourself to the Alternet's alt.slack newsgroup--or just wait until "Bob" makes himself known to you.)
The Post goes so far as to posit that the teachings of "Bob" have endured long enough--since its beginnings in 1980, it has ordained 6,000 "ministers"--to make it a legitimate (if that's the right word) cult. SubGenius was labeled a satanic sect in Bedford, England, when "Bob"'s image was found stenciled on sidewalks. Enough said.
Buzz us at 757-8439 (voice) or 757-8593 (fax) or via Internet at email@example.com. Luddites can reach us at P.O. Box 190289, Dallas, 75219.