According to Moonalice legend, Nashville was one of the original bases of the Moonalice tribe. From before recorded history began, the tribe lived happily in this area. It was here in Nashville that many Moonalice traditions evolved, both in music and agriculture. What we discovered is that the ancient tribe smoked liked chimneys. Hemp in those days was far more primitive than it is now. You had to smoke a couple pounds to get a buzz. To protect the environment, the tribe constructed special buildings that have survived to the present time. They called them Smoking Barns. You may know them from the role they play in curing tobacco for cigars, but do you know what actually goes on inside a Smoking Barn? The Legend knows!

According to Moonalice legend, tribal agriculture and music have always shared a special bond in the area that is now Nashville. The tribal clans helped each other out in ways we have not seen elsewhere in the tribe. At harvest time, thousands of members of the musical clan put down their instruments and went into the fields. Why? Why here? Then it hit us. Of course the musicians near Nashville would go into the fields at harvest time! They’re pickers!!!

According to Moonalice legend, the lands around here are home to a variety of unusual creatures. Our favorite is the Rocky Mountain River Hippo. Unlike its African counterpart, the River Hippo has adapted to survive in the mountains. First, they are equally happy in water and on land. Second, the hippos are indistinguishable from granite, which protects them from predators. Third, they are actually made of granite, which protects them from having to work, eat, or think. Some adventurers have discovered Rocky Mountain River Hippos covered in a green organic material similar to Polar Fleece, but mostly on the north side. If you come upon a Rocky Mountain River Hippo in the wild, be very quiet. This is especially true if you are white water rafting. You don’t want to wake River Hippo. Nobody knows what happens when one wakes up . . . and we don’t want to find out.

According to Moonalice legend, the calendar is not fixed. It is a matter of personal choice. We bring this up because today (August 31) is Hardwood’s New Year’s Eve. He will be distributing party hats and noise makers after the show. We invite you to join us in celebrating with whatever organic material suits you best.

According to Moonalice legend, the trout in the Gallatin River have special powers. They emit signals that certain humans find irresistible. The signals circle the globe, causing otherwise sensible people to drop everything, come to this valley, and stand for days on end in water up to their elbows. Apparently there is no cure.

According to another part of the Moonalice legend, Labor Day Weekend was the product of a multi-generational negotiation between the tribe’s agricultural and nomadic clans. The nomads – musicians like us – were totally dependant on the hippies for hemp products. As you can imagine, the hippies tended towards sloth, thanks in large part to the high quality of their produce. Fortunately, the hippies were equally dependant on the nomadic bands for music. In the end, they compromised: the hippies promised to complete their harvest over the first three-day weekend in September, if, and only if all tribal bands would spend that weekend playing gigs. Every year for three days, the whole tribe works. That’s why they call it Labor Day.

According to Moonalice legend, the tribe has always preferred female leadership. Tribal men have always found it easier to say, “yes, dear!” than to come up with ideas of their own, particularly after 4:20 in the afternoon.

I bring this up because the tribe in its heyday was an oasis for independent women. Faced with limited rights in European, Asian, and African cultures, women who wanted respect and political power found a home in the Moonalice tribe. For all intents and purposes, Moonalice had a monopoly on matriarchy as a political system, but the tribe worked hard to spread its philosophy. They didn’t make much progress for hundreds of years, until the women’s suffrage movement took root in urban cultures in the late 19th century. Leveraging its thought leadership, the tribe fought to make suffrage happen as the first step towards matriarchy.

The moment of triumph came 88 years ago today. That’s when the 19th Amendment became law in the United States and women got the right to vote. Unfortunately, the 19th amendment came after the 18th, which was the law that banned alcohol. Prohibition shook the tribe to its core, depleting its numbers and resources at the moment of triumph. As a result, women’s rights stalled for another fifty, sixty, seventy years. But if you heard Michelle Obama’s speech from the Democratic National Convention, you know we’re back on track.

According to Moonalice legend, Lake Tahoe is a study in contrasts. Very dry land surrounds the lake. The mountains are tall and the lake is deep. On one side there is Nevada; on the other, California. We didn’t understand the significance of this last one until a couple of months ago when we played in Crystal Bay on the Nevada side. Everywhere we looked in Crystal Bay, there were casinos. Enough to support an entire economy. But what supports the California side? They have boats, and golf courses, ski areas and fancy homes. Where does the money come from? We consulted the Legend. The answer was so obvious we slapped our foreheads. Gold. One hundred fifty years ago, the gold was mineral. Now it’s vegetable. We understand the local Moonalice tribe grows enough “gold” to support every Tahoe resident in high style!

According to Moonalice legend, August 24 is Mundus Patet, a harvest feast involving the dead. That sounded kind of creepy, until we discovered that Mundus Patet was the first known Acid Test. The Testers were Romans about two thousand years ago. They smoked hemp products and consumed unusual mushrooms. For them, Mundus Patet was a very high holy day. No wonder the tribe liked it so much.

According to Wikipedia, on this day in 1858, 90 blacks were arrested in Richmond, Virginia for learning. In 1967, Abbie Hoffman and the Yippies brought the New York Stock Exchange to a halt when they dumped a bag of dollar bills from the visitors’ gallery to the Exchange floor. Traders who normally worked in millions scrambled for singles.

Wikipedia has no entry for Laurelton, PA. We find this disappointing, as Laurelton clearly deserves an entry. The place has a smoky Moonalice charm. Fortunately, the Moonalice legend can tell us what we need to know about Laurelton.

According to Moonalice legend, the Jurassic period saw some unusual dinosaurs around Laurelton. Our favorite was the Brown Nose, Blue Haired Cross-Eyed Potapus. This giant herbivore was an eating machine, but its diet consisted entirely of hemp. It spent its day in the hemp fields, chewing intently. When it was full, the Potapus would pause for a few minutes, which led to serious munchies, after which the Potapus would go back to lunch. Every morning, the Potapus would poop out masses of hard black crystals to clear the decks for another day of eating. Unfortunately, hemp is a seasonal crop in central Pennsylvania, which caused the Brown Nose, Blue Haired Cross-Eyed Potapus to die off every winter. The Potapus didn’t last in Pennsylvania, but the carcasses decayed over the millennia, leaving behind huge pools of light sweet crude. Potapus poop, of course, turned into anthracite coal.

According to Moonalice legend, the tribe’s nemesis is a creepy figure called Red Barns. Red was the oldest of three Barns brothers, and by far most violent. Brother Whitey was pretty random – sometimes good, sometimes not -- but the third brother, Smokey Barns, was a good soul. All three are immortal. Whitey and Smokey have tried for centuries to protect the Moonalice tribe from the evil brother, Red. The battle rages on in rural areas across the country. Each side colors its battlements distinctively. The ones at Bear’s Picnic are smoky yellow, a clear sign that this festival is under the protection of Smoky Barns. But don’t get overconfident. Avoid Red Barns. You’ll find no empathy there.

Did you know that August 16 is Xicolatada? We thought not. It’s a traditional festival celebrated only in a village in Catalonia. It has been a rite of summer for over 300 years.

According to Wikipedia, August 15 – it seems like only yesterday – was once a festival day in Catalonia, and the locals in the village were known to drink quite a bit, to the point that many still felt ill the following morning. Wikipedia goes on to say that the village chocolatier would offer the people a hot chocolate to ease the pain, as he claimed cocoa was an excellent remedy. Over the years, this act of charity grew into a custom, and eventually a municipal association was formed to remember the tradition and to organize the distribution of hot chocolate every year on August 16, at precisely 11 in the morning. It sounds real enough, but that can’t be the whole story. What happened to the party on the 15th? We need to consult the Moonalice legend. The hot chocolate was not a headache remedy. It was a cure for the munchies. The Catalonia tribe treated hangover the way they treated everything else: with heavy smoking of local hemp products.

Xicolatada appeqrs to have a discordian element. While the date is always the same, the organizers mess with the calendar somehow so that no one knows in advance when chocolate day is coming. Quite logically, the local Moonalice tribe smokes continuously, because they never want to be caught unprepared.

According to Moonalice legend, Greensburg, Pennsylvania began its life as the village of Newton, a stop along the wagon trail from what is now Pittsburgh to what is now Philadelphia. Right after the Revolutionary War, a colonial veteran established an inn right here to cater to teamsters driving wagon loads of hemp from Fort Pitt in the Three Rivers area to Philadelphia. As you may know, hemp was the most important crop in America in those days, due to the essential role of ships of sail in the colonial economy. That first crop of hemp from the Three Rivers region produced excessive flowers, which made it unsuitable for rope. Luckily, ol’ Big Greens Moonalice was sleeping off a hangover out back of the inn in Newton. He arose from his stupor just long enough to demonstrate other uses for flowery hemp, saving the crop and the day. Everyone rejoiced! Philadelphians loved the new hemp products, which caused them to love each other as brothers. And the people of Newton immediately changed the name of their village to Greensburg. The rest, as we say, is legend.

According to Moonalice legend, education is really important. Especially higher education. That’s why we were pleased to see that the University of Pittsburgh at Greensburg campus is located in Hempfield Township. Everyone there gets a full Moonalice education. And the local secondary school is called Hempfield High. We are not making this up. Chubby has a Spartan hat to prove it.

According to Moonalice legend, Acadians are French-speaking Canadians who may or may not have been affiliated with the tribe. Uncertainty exists because no one in the Moonalice tribe really knows what an Acadian is. However, they sound like nice people. Plus, they got pushed around a lot, which is also true of the tribe. We raise this because August 15 is Acadian Day. We encourage you to salute Acadians tonight with the herbal remedy of your choice. They may not appreciate it, but you will.

According to Moonalice legend, young members of the ancient Moonalice tribe in upstate New York developed an unhealthy fascination with the neighboring Iroquois Confederation. The, you see, were very sophisticated in comparison to the very down market Moonalice tribe. The Iroquois represented everything Moonalice was not: they were rich; they were educated; they had lots of friends. In short, they were mainstream establishment. Moonalice had just the two clans – the nomadic musicians and the hemp farmers – and they couldn’t get anywhere near the Iroquois Confederation without getting laughed at. In spite of this, young Moonalice read fan magazines like Iroquois Tonight! and QuoisFanatic in teepees adorned with posters of great Iroquois chiefs. It annoyed their parents to no end.

In a bright corner of the Moonalice legend sits one of the great inventions in the history of the tribe: the refreshing fruit-flavored ice dessert. For hundreds of years, the tribe searched far and wide for something sweet that would salve the savage throat after smoking. A few unlucky tribe members discovered that snow was unreliable. Not only was it available only a few months a year, it came in flavors that no one liked, such as “citrus.” Fortunately, in 1905 a kid in San Francisco left a mix of fruit soda powder and water on the porch overnight on the coldest day of the year. It had a drink stirrer in it. By morning, the Popsicle was born. We bring this up because Wikipedia reveals that August 14 is National Creamsicle Day. There’s no way this can be a coincidence. Not here in Ithaca. So the Earl of Moonalice went grazing and came back with a couple of boxes of Creamsicles that we shared with the audience.

According to Moonalice legend, the tribe has struggled for millennia against the forces of prohibition and intolerance. The battle has ebbed and flowed. Outnumbered and lacking in aggressive tendencies, the Moonalice tribe learned early on to avoid direct confrontation. It found hideouts in times of trouble. One of these was the town of Willits, California. There seems to be a powerful shield around Willits which repels most bad guys. We’re not sure how it works, but last time the band was there, we felt its effects. Hardwood and Chubby Wombat Moonalice got burritos at a restaurant in town, looking forward to a tasty hot sauce platform. About an hour later, the whole world started dancing and it didn’t stop until long after the show ended. Some hot sauce!!! Needless to say, we’re looking for more.

According to Moonalice legend, August 10 is National S’mores Day. Eat ‘em if you’ve got ‘em. If you haven’t, fall back on traditional herbal remedies.

According to Moonalice legend, reality is only interesting in moderate doses. We bring this up because today is the 60th anniversary of Candid Camera, the original reality TV show. Did you know that the show began on radio as Candid Microphone? Didn’t think so. In the mid 60s, there were brief experiments with other reality TV formats, including Candid Acid Test, Candid Human Be In, Candid Inner City Riots and Candid Vietnam War, but none of them had any staying power. It turns out that people only want phony reality on TV. Which brings us to the Moonalice philosophy of Confusionism. Reality is all well and good, but you will be happier if you make your own.

According to Moonalice legend, August 9 is the designated day when really bad leaders are supposed to resign. Unfortunately, really bad leaders generally lack self-awareness, so they don’t know how bad they are . . . and they generally don’t leave office without help from a firing squad. In fact, the only really bad leader who ever took advantage of the tribe’s Really Bad Leader Resignation Day was Richard Nixon in 1974. Everyone should freshen the air in honor of Tricky Dick’s exit from public life. If enough people do so, perhaps others will follow Nixon’s example.

Felton’s role in the legend has expanded since the last time we were here! According to Moonalice legend, all school age children in the tribe must complete a three-year course in freedom fighting before their 16th birthday. Taught by tribal elders, the course prepares young Moonalice for a life of independence, free from prohibitions. One of the great benefits of the course is the development of immunity to the power trips of others. The best example in recent times occurred in Felton on July 13, LINdependence Day. The Moonalice tribe has campaigned for Freedom from Windows since 1990. While our allegiance is to the fruit of Cupertino, we came tonight in solidarity with the LINdependence Freedom Fighters of Felton. Windows sucks!

According to Moonalice legend, you can lead a horse to water, but why would you want to?

According to Moonalice legend, the area of northern Michigan now known as the Sleepy Bear Dunes National Park was discovered by the tribe a long, long time ago. The place later got its name from an old Chippewa tale about a mother bear swimming across the lake with two cubs. It’s a sad story, but the Chippewa version leaves out the saddest part. For that, we must consult the Moonalice legend.

As is so often the case, the tribe found the place by accident. A few brave Moonalice souls walked down the dunes to the water. They got to the water’s edge at precisely 4:20 and sparked a fat one to celebrate. No one knows precisely what happened next, but it appears the Moonalice dudes got so buzzed they didn’t notice a mother bear as she swam to shore. She was not only pissed off – her cubs had both drowned en route – she was really hungry, particularly after one of the Moonalice gave her a couple hits off the fatty. At that point, the munchies set in and the mother bear ate one of the Moonalice tribe members. Very sad. It could have been much worse, but the mother bear fell asleep. At this point in the story, the tribe hit the road, the Chippewa and the National Park Service took over, the sun came out, there was a pretty rainbow, and those who survived lived happily ever after.

On this run in Ohio and Michigan, Steve Parish uncovered a major new figure in the Moonalice legend: Red Barns. According to Moonalice legend, the tribe faced many philosophical challenges over the millennia. One of the most significant occurred in the middle of the 19th century, when a young tribe member in the agricultural clan, Touchofrouge Moonalice, agitated for radical change. He wanted the tribe to focus on corn and moonshine, rather than hemp and Moonalice. Once they recovered from the initial shock of the proposal, the tribe resisted for many years, until finally Touchofrouge packed up his still and his combine and left the reservation. He changed his name to Red Barns and campaigned for years on behalf of corn, moonshine, ethanol, and related products. Red built a huge following in the Midwest. Followers by the thousands planted corn and built large, brightly colored, wooden storage structures to honor their leader. Given that corn farming takes a lot more work than hemp farming, it is no surprise the vast majority of Red’s converts came from outside the tribe. Big Steve assures us that the next chapter in the story of Red Barns includes great peril for the Moonalice tribe. So tune in next time for another installment of “Who the Hell is Red Barns?”

According to Moonalice legend, dogs make the best copilots. Especially basset hounds.

According to Moonalice legend, August 2 is known as Prohibition Day. On this day in 1937, the Marihuana Tax Act was passed, essentially rendering hemp and all its byproducts illegal. As usual, the tribe was caught completely off guard. They were paying no attention to Washington. When the Feds showed up, the entire hemp crop was still in the field, a month from harvest. It was a bud bath. Most of the tribe was rounded up. When 4:20 came and went on the first day without the ritual Smoke Out, the tribe began to see that its way of life was over. Most of the tribe was sent into the desert to pound sand. A few brave ones escaped and went underground, waiting for the moment when the Moonalice tribe would rise again. Ever since, August 2nd has been a day of contemplation. A day to prepare for the end of Hemp Prohibition. A day for consuming mass quantities. Every member of the tribe must do his or her duty.

According to Moonalice legend, if it ain’t broke, don’t get excited. Just give it to George Bush. He’ll break it.

According to Moonalice legend, no one really knows how many holes it takes to fill the Albert Hall. And they never will. The math is just too weird.

According to Moonalice legend, the spirit of tribe members lives on after the body goes to the Happy Hemp Ground. The legend tells us that Moonalice spirits follow the nomadic clan in the hope that low tones will eventually bring them back to life. Unfortunately, spirits don’t have money for tickets, so they mostly hang out in the parking lot. And so it went on for millennia, until August 1995, when a great chief moved on to the Happy Hemp Ground. You may not know this, but Jerry Garcia was a Moonalice on his mother’s side. And on his way out, Jerry did something brilliant for all Moonalice spirits. He made sure that each year on his birthday, there would be a gig where all spirits were welcome. The gig would be in a big venue with comfy seating and very few live bodies to get in the way. We can’t see them, but we’re surrounded by Moonalice spirits. Happy Birthday Jerry.

According to Moonalice legend, the tribe struggled for centuries to survive along the shores of Lake Tahoe. Way back then, the hills were too steep and the trees too tall to support hemp farming. And the musical clan had no place to play. And so it was for generations on end, until the white man came along and created a paradise they called Nevada. It was a large place and mostly desert, except along the shores of Lake Tahoe. And to those shores came the developers, and with them, the casinos and concert venues. The Moonalice tribe rejoiced! The nomadic clan – the bands -- added Crystal Bay to every tour itinerary. The paradise state even passed a law to permit the use of hemp products for medical purposes. To the surprise of no one, the Tribe lived happily ever after.

Elsewhere in the legend, it is written that the border between chaos and confusion cuts through Lake Tahoe. If you look really closely, you cannot see it, but the legend leaves no doubt.

According to Moonalice legend, the hemp fields of Sonoma County are protected by the spirit of Smokitall Moonalice. As a child, Smokitall was nothing special, but he was incredibly impatient. He grew up in a thermonuclear family, with five generations under one roof. All day long, every day, he nagged his family with a single question: are we there yet?

Smokitall was tone deaf, so he had no choice but to go into agriculture. There his impatience produced an innovation: Beaujolais Hemp. Smokitall had an insight: if you harvest hemp when it’s six inches tall, you can smoke the stems. The tribe tried to tell him he was crazy, but Smokitall persisted in his dream. He inhaled prodigious quantities of Beaujolais Hemp, resulting in black lung and early death. His spirit has lived in the fields ever since.

According to a different part of Moonalice legend, the shortest distance between two points doesn’t matter. What matters is how sharp the points are.

According to Moonalice legend, somewhere in the world there was a hidden conspiracy – known as The Conspiracy – that planned and connived for centuries to take over. The Conspiracy’s strategy was to elect a dishonest moron to the presidency and then rip off everything of value. For the longest time, they couldn’t get it done. Then they found a candidate from the end of the alphabet. He and his cronies did an Al Capone on the place until there was nothing left. Not even the sewer. The end.

That’s what the legend says. We didn’t think much of it until we saw a report in the New York Times that somebody has stolen 2,500 manhole covers in Philadelphia over the past year. That may not strike you as a big deal, but historically Philly only lost 100 manhole covers a year. It’s probably just a coincidence.

According to Moonalice legend, Necessity was the original matriarch of the ancient tribe. She was the mother of all Moonalice matriarchs, as well as of a young brave she named Invention Moonalice. Necessity’s vision – which combined low tones with high spirits – unified the tribe and helped it thrive in a period of chaos. Known for innovation in agriculture, Necessity was the first to discover the benefits of culling male plants in the field. Her recipe for hemp brownies changed the course of Moonalice culture, as it allowed the tribe to resolve conflict through catatonia, rather than violence.

Even today, tribe members turn to the spirit of Necessity for guidance in times of stress. Her adage – “smoke first, then forget” – has been forgotten by many, but survives as the foundation of the modern 4:20 ritual.

According to Moonalice legend, the tribe’s nomadic clan roamed North America in search of a mythical place called The Fair. Legend had it that The Fair was magical. That it existed in forest glades, with sunbeams dancing through the trees, and breezes crossing the meadows. According to Moonalice legend, The Fair was a kaleidoscope of beautiful creatures, settings, and music. Everyone at The Fair lived on a diet of mushrooms. For the Millennia, the nomads searched for The Fair as they played their music.

The Legend goes on to say that The Fair was guided by the spirit of Glinda Star, matriarch of the Family, a tribe worshipped by all Moonalice. Legend reports that Glinda was powerful. She was good. She had a green thumb for hemp. And she brought people together for a Fair of epic proportions. But no one in the Moonalice tribe could ever find it. Until now.

The Moonalice hunt for The Fair is finally over. We found it. It’s called Oregon Country Fair. And as so often happens, reality overwhelms the legend in the power of its buzz.

Other acts: Great American Taxi

According to Moonalice legend, the great explorers Lewis & Clark might never have gotten home from their trek across the continent had it not been for the Moonalice tribe. The explorers got lost west of Yellowstone Park – in present day Victor, ID - and were rescued by Witchway Moonalice, matriach of the local Moonalice tribe. Although Witchway’s story has disappeared from history, it lives on in the Moonalice legend. Here is just a bit of it:

Witchway was born some time around 1776. For reasons no one can explain, every member of her tribe operated on a different calendar . . . and no one kept records. All we know is that Witchway showed great promise as a child, debuting as first bassist in the tribal band at age four. She also demonstrated the greenest of thumbs. While her hemp was not much use for rope, its quick maturation and prodigious THC levels led to her tribe’s first great encounter with Confusionism.

When Lewis & Clark stumbled upon the tribal farming grounds in July 1806, they thought they might have found a new product that might compete with tobacco. Lewis & Clark put some in their pipes and smoked it. A fierce attack of the munchies immediately sent them scampering for snack food. Soon they were completely lost. Fortunately, they still had some of the interesting green flower they had found on Witchway’s farm. Just before they ran out, Witchway found Lewis & Clark. They were making funny faces at Lewis’ pet Newfoundland (Seaman) and giggling.

Witchway spent a few days teaching the explorers how best to enjoy hemp products, after which she put them back on their way home. Unfortunately, Lewis & Clark spaced their stash a few nights later. The good news is that they got home safely. The rest, as we say, is legend.

Other acts: Great American Taxi

According to Moonalice legend, July 4 is a day with magical powers. For one thing, it is the approximate date of aphelion, when the earth is at the furthest point in its orbit around the sun. When the sun is far away, interesting things happen, both in the tribe and out. In 18th century America – before the Revolutionary War – Moonalice tribe members lobbied aggressively for the freedom to grow hemp and play bass. Progress on the initiative was very slow until the tribe found a way to align itself with white colonists. They did so over the issue of taxation without representation. The tribe had no idea what taxation without representation meant, but it seems like a huge threat to the tribal hemp crop, so Moonalice joined the rebellion in the 1770s. Then, from July 1 to July 4, 1776, the tribe catered the meeting of the Second Continental Congress. They served traditional pub food with a variety of tasty deserts made from derivatives of the tribe’s own hemp crop. From all reports, the Second Continental Congress was a huge success. The best evidence was that somehow they lost the original Declaration of Independence. Legend has it that the document was written on hemp paper and that prodigious amounts of hemp were consumed that night. All we know is that the darn Declaration disappeared that night, never to be seen again. Fortunately, the tribe had kept a copy, so that Thomas Jefferson, John Hancock and the rest of the gang could issue a Declaration that would change the world. That part part is history. The rest, as they say, is legend.

Other acts: Great American Taxi

According to Moonalice legend, the tribe has inhabited the Big Sky region of Montana for many millennia. While the legend is vague about the early days, what little evidence exists is quite disturbing. For example, we have been told that cave paintings suggest some of our distant ancestors may have experimented with ménage à trois marriages involving moose and bears. The modern tribe’s lack of antlers and claws supports the notion that the mixed marriages didn’t take, which is too bad because antlers and claws might come in handy in the music business.

On a more positive note, later chapters of the legend refer to the extraordinary agricultural success enjoyed by the Big Sky tribe. They leveraged their superior elevation to produce exceptional hemp products and accessories, validating the First Commandment of Moonalice: higher is better.

Elsewhere in the Moonalice legend, the west was tamed thanks to the power of rope. Without rope there would have been no cowboys. Without cowboys, there would be no Westerns or Marlboros. Without Westerns or Marlboros, there would be no Friday night. Without Friday night there would be no Moonalice, without whom there would have been no rope.

[For those of you who are new to the tribe, Moonalice has two clans, one of which was agricultural. The agricultural clan grew only one crop. Hemp. Hemp is the key ingredient in rope, as well as a number of entertainment products.] So Moonalice hemp helped to tame the west. That’s kind of ironic, as one of the tribes being tamed was Moonalice. We hate it when irony slaps us in the face.

Tonight’s highlights: Jon Cousin and Shea Stephens got engaged at the gig. How cool is that? The fireworks were fantastic!

According to Moonalice legend, June 28 is the Perfect High Holy Day in the Moonalice calendar. This date is the only date each year where both the month and day are different perfect numbers. For those of you who forget your math – and we certainly had before we looked it up – a perfect number defined as a positive integer which is the sum of its positive divisors excluding the number itself. Equivalently, a perfect number is a number that is half the sum of all of its positive divisors (including itself), or _(n) = 2 n. Still with us? Here’s the money quote from Wikipedia:

“The first perfect number is 6, because 1, 2, and 3 are its proper positive divisors and 1 + 2 + 3 = 6. Equivalently, the number 6 is equal to half the sum of all its positive divisors:
(1 + 2 + 3 + 6 ) / 2 = 6.” It turns out that 28 is the second perfect number: (1 + 2 + 4 + 7 + 14 = 28)." How cool is that?

As a result, June 28 is Perfect Party Day in the tribe. It put a ton of pressure on the crowd in San Geronimo, but they were up to it. According to a different part of Moonalice legend, San Geronimo was the patron saint of sky divers. History books (and Wikipedia) tell a different tale, describing San Geronimo as an Arab boy who refused to renounce Christianity and was given the first Jimmy Hoffa burial in history, in the foundation of the Fort of the 24 Hours in Algiers.

San GeroniMo Moonalice fared much better. He never had to worry about martyrdom. Or skydiving. Along with his brothers San GeroniLarry and San GeroniCurly, San GeroniMo performed on the tribal vaudeville circuit. He was a master of the double eye poke, but his brothers always seemed to come out okay. N’yuck, n’yuck.

We were trying to figure out which San Geronimo was honored in the naming of a lovely little town in Marin County. The San Geronimo who was buried in cement? Or the one who performed to Three Blind Mice? The answer seems obvious to us.

Happy Birthday to Gilda Radner.

According to Moonalice legend, members of the tribe in San Francisco sought refuge in the 1960s in a church with an unusual name. The church had a fantastic choir and a commitment to helping those who could not take care of themselves. It had the best soup kitchens anybody ever saw. It helped HIV/AIDs patients. It had this really cool pastor-in-chief. Unfortunately, the tribe members can’t remember any of the names. What could possibly explain such a memory lapse? Hmmmm . . .

According to Moonalice legend, the festival of Midsummer on June 24 resulted from a mistake. More than a thousand years ago, the tribe flirted with sun worship, henges, and the like. They spent generations wearing funny hats and figuring out basic astronomy, before experiencing an epidemic of blindness. Whether the blindness was due to staring at the sun or solo forms of entertainment is not clear, but the tribal elders realized that they had to find an alternative to sun worship. They declared that the sun was too round to be worthy of worship, and suggested fire as a more suitable alternative. Fire’s unique role in tribal hemp ceremonies made it a logical target of worship, and for the most part it was easy on the eyes. The challenge was to persuade the tribe to switch. The great Chief Jellidonut Moonalice came up with a solution, they would convert all the sun worship festivals to fire festivals, starting with the Summer Solstice. He declared that it would become the festival of Midsummer. Unfortunately, Chief Jellidonut had been blinded by years of solo worship and could find neither the sun in the sky nor the Solstice on a calendar. He waved his arms towards the sky and then pointed at a date he thought might be the Solstice. He missed by only three days. The tribe could easily have corrected him, but chose not to. There is nothing that Moonalice likes better than a party, and two is always better than one.

Haight Ashbury Free Clinic Gala

Other Acts: Ramblin' Jack Elliott, Shana Morrison, Narada Michael Walden, Karmen. Emcee: Will Durst

According to Moonalice legend, the 22nd of June is Hangover Day. It is a day traditionally dedicated to recovery and contemplation.

Moonalice tribal celebrations of the summer solstice on June 21 and Midsummer on June 24 have been boisterous affairs since the dawn of time. Because it comes first, the solstice benefits from getting the tribe when everyone is fresh. Of course they don’t stay that way for long. Not surprisingly, each Solstice brought with it an oversupply of headache and nausea, necessitating the creation of a DIFFERENT KIND of festival on June 22 to deal with it. But Hangover Day was nothing more than a bunch of barfing and whining until some good Samaritans from the Haight-Ashbury clan stepped forward with a concept they called Rock Med.

Rock Med was an amazing idea. If people are hurting, don’t judge them. Help them.

The tribe immediately saw the brilliance of Rock Med. Rock Med meant you could party without fear. The certainty of recovery from Solstice celebrations . . . ensured readiness for the equally intense Midsummer party on June 24.

According to Moonalice legend, the summer solstice is the High Holy Day when tribe members coming of age participate in the Great Smoke Out. In addition to hacking and gagging, the holiday also came to have an unusual amount of daylight, presumably to ensure that the newly initiated could find their way home before dark. While the party often left tribe members in a fragile state, everyone had two days to rally before the equally intense Midsummer festival on June 24.

We consulted the Legend to learn the origin of Truckee. History claims the town was named after a Paiute chief, Tru-ki-zo. Tru-ki-zo was a great chief, father to Chief Winnemucca and grandfather to Sarah Winnemucca. We would be all in favor of naming a town after Tru-ki-zo, but we think there may be less of a connection with Truckee than people think. When the first white people got over the Sierras into present day Truckee, a very friendly Indian approached them. He smiled hopefully and yelled, “Tro-Kay.” The settlers assumed he was yelling his name – which is how Tru-ki-zo fits into this story – but Paiute scholars point out that in their language, “Tro-kay” means, “hello.” What they don’t tell you is that in the Moonalice dialect of that region, “tro-kay” is a question. It means, “Do you have any hemp?”

Apparently the white people had some hemp, because everyone lived happily ever after.

678 Party

According to Moonalice legend, one of the tribe’s annual high holy days was called Burning Bud. It was a one-day event devoted to the building of a henge. The tribe was not very practical. It took them a while to figure out that you can’t build much of henge in one day.

The one-day limit led to much experimentation with building materials. They tried dirt. Then mud. They even tried water. They tried practically everything that was available. Then one day, someone decided to make a henge out of hemp.

They built the entire thing out of hemp and it was done in a day! It was huge!!! It smelled great!!! They wanted to call it Hemphenge. Then they set it on fire. They got really stoned. And a name came out of nowhere.

Stonedhenge.

So began the festival of Burning Bud. With it began Fire Arts and people getting buzzed and running around naked in the desert. It is our understanding that some of these customs persist to the present day.

According to Moonalice legend, pow-wows associated with the spring planting season were a welcome respite from heavy labor in the fields. As Moonalice technology evolved, these pow-wows turned into trade shows with the latest equipment for growers … and lots of good music. Imagine our joy when we learned that the Harmony Festival is the modern incarnation of that pow-wow. There is such vitality in the agricultural side of the Moonalice economy!

From our perch on the stage, we noted widespread evidence of last year’s successful harvest in the region. The sweet smell of prosperity . . .

We read in Wikipedia that Santa Rosa has been looking for a new motto. Apparently the Luther Burbank-inspired phrase “The City Designed For Living” doesn’t cut it any longer. We don’t anticipate that our views will carry any weight, but we have a few modest suggestions:
• Santa Rosa: Where Your Own Grows Best
• Buds For Living
• Buddy Up to Santa Rosa
• Our Music is Better Than Your Day Job

According to Moonalice legend, sacred places exist where the magical beat of Confusionism overwhelms gravity and other forces of nature. Today, Sir Sinjin led us to Confusion Hill, a roadside attraction just south of Garberville, where time fluctuates, balls and water flow uphill, and nothing is quite as you would expect. So powerful was the magic emanating from Confusion Hill that both Hardwood and Chubby felt its effects from miles away. Of course, being Confusionists they weren’t sure what they were feeling.

We played today’s show for Alton Kelley, one of the great artists of the 20th Century. With his partner, Stanley Mouse, Kelley was a giant in the San Francisco poster art revolution of the mid-60s. Kelley died today and we miss him already.

According to Moonalice legend, change is good. Especially if you are a coin collector.

In Canada, today is the Day of Action for people of the First Nations. We lost the receipt for Moonalice’s First Nation status, but that didn’t stop us from taking action on behalf of all Canada’s First Nations. Ironically, today is also Oak Apple Day in Great Britain, a day which celebrates the restoration of the British monarchy. Can’t say we were excited about that until we learned that the Oak Apple ceremony may have descended from pre-Christian nature worship.

Did you know they have 20 miles of tunnels under Montreal? You could live down there if you wanted to. Especially in the winter.

According to Moonalice legend, three is a very powerful (and lucky) number. It symbolizes the bewildering trinity of sects, hemp, and low-toned music. Every Moonalice tribe member trains in the entire trinity for many years before choosing a “major,” which determines the clan with which he or she will spend the rest of his or her life. Most choose to stay with the clan in which they were born, but the tribe supports those who choose a different path. Always tolerant in matters of personal choice, the tribe also supports those who choose not to. In addition, it supports those who can’t make up their mind.

Whether the context is Blind Mice, Stooges, Musketeers, Wise Men, or Little Pigs, three has changed the world for the better. Why should the Moonalice legend be any different?

The band’s third gig in New York City (in only six weeks) was a Bill Graham Foundation benefit at the Fillmore, née Irving Plaza. Since it opened in 1914, the venue has been home to burlesque, Yiddish theater, and Polish dance, as well as rock ‘n’ roll. It once saw Gypsy Rose Lee (all of her, in the Full Monty sense). It’s on an island that the Moonalice tribe once swapped to Peter Minuit for $24 in trinkets and a piece of Connecticut. (Moonalice legend, 4-19-08.) Coincidently, the gig celebrated Mother’s Day in Bolivia and Sweden, as well as the birthdays of Rachel Carson, Vincent Price, Harlan Ellison, and Batman.

According to Moonalice legend, the answer to most questions is “42.” Not every question, mind you, but enough to matter. You can imagine the tribe’s surprise when Douglas Adams published “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” and declared that “42” is the answer to everything. Perhaps it is, once you get beyond the Earth’s gravity. But here on earth, where Confusionism reigns, some questions have no answer. “Hey! Where’d everybody go?” is an example.

Today is Towel Day, which commemorates the life and writings of the great Mr. Adams. We took the stage, armed with a lovely red towel from the bus, and played a set where every song was connected to the one before and the one after. Some kind of Force emanated from the audience and the ring of majestic oaks that surrounded the stage. No wonder. Today is also Universal Day of the Jedi, and the 31st anniversary of the release of Star Wars. Played our hearts out, we did. Great show, it was.

According to Moonalice legend, the tribe didn’t really sell Manhattan Island to Peter Minuet for $24 in trinkets. They swapped it for a piece of Connecticut where hemp grew better than it did on Manhattan. The $24 in trinkets was a bonus, like in a Ginsu knife commercial. The Manhattan deal was 382 years ago today, but it seems like only yesterday.

On this day in 1820, a song called “Mary Had A Little Lamb” was published. What they don’t tell you is that the song was based on a Moonalice tribal song, “Alice Had A Little White Rabbit.” Legend also refers to an obscure alternative version called, “Alice Had A Little Weed, Then She Had the Munchies.”

Happy Birthday to Tommy Chong and Bob Dylan.

According to Moonalice legend, the tribe declares a High Holy Day whenever a nomadic band plays a gig. Some High Holy Days are Higher than others, but all gig days are high. May 23 is High and Holy three ways to Friday. First, it is the Day of Disunity in the Discordian calendar. (Disunity was the word of the day for Moonalice, the band, as Blue was not with us for family reasons.) Second, it is World Turtle Day. By coincidence, two large, green dancing turtles adorned the stage. One member of the audience said she was a Goffle, a person who celebrates turtles. Others in the audience did not claim to be Goffles, but were celebrating turtles in their own way, often with small offerings of burning plant material. Third, today is the saint day of Aaron the Illustrious. Aaron was a monk in the 4th century, which probably means he got to be a saint by having hallucinations. All we know is that Aaron was also known as Aaron the Nuts. We are not making this up. Aaron the Nuts. Hallucination? Anatomy? You be the judge.

Schwagstock is a great scene in a really cool location. We celebrated with a set that included three – count ‘em THREE – bass solos by Sir Sinjin. Sir Sinjin, Jesùs H., and Chubby all joined the Schwag on stage for a rowdy rendition of Goin’ Down the Road Feelin’ Bad.

According to Moonalice legend, the Northern California coast has always had magical qualities that protect the tribe from harassment. The soil is also unusually fertile, enabling hippies to grow some of the world’s finest strains of hemp. While Humboldt rope no longer enjoys huge demand from ships of sail, the tribe in the region has adjusted with a range of alternative hemp products. Hemp beer, milk, and clothing are in evidence around Arcata, as are high end, organic products based on hemp flowers.

The politics of Arcata are unusually hospitable for the tribe. In 1989, Arcata made itself a Nuclear-Free Zone. In 2003, the city was the first to make voluntary compliance with the Patriot Act illegal. While they have not been able to reverse the Prohibition of hemp, the citizens of Arcata have demonstrated a commitment to doing so. In short, it’s a Moonalice kind of town.

According to Moonalice legend, the Coast Miwok tribe of the northern California coast held the regional franchise for Moonalice in the years before Europeans arrived. The Miwoks had many villages in and around present day Petaluma. When the Spanish showed up with their plan to build a mission, they asked the name of the area. The Miwoks said, “péta lúuma .” The Europeans thought the phrase meant, “hill backside.” Huh? We looked for guidance in a Moonalice-English dictionary . . . “horse’s backside.” Ah. Those Miwoks were such kidders.

According to Moonalice legend, clowns are the social equivalent of Crazy Glue. They stand out in a crowd because of their red foam noses and very large shoes, but their commitment to adding mirth to every situation is what commands respect in the tribe. “Mirthiness” was the hallmark of the Moonalice philosopher Confusion, whose multifaceted career included a stint as master of ceremonies for the ancient festival known as Clownstock.

Like so much of Moonalice culture, Clownstock adapted to survive. Its present home is Camp Winnarainbow in Northern California, where the master of clown-emonies is Saint Misbehavin’ himself, Wavy Gravy. As spiritual leader of the tribe in the Bay Area, Wavy had the honor of being the first to moon the band at a show. He also channeled the philosopher Confusion with his statement at Woodstock, “if you aren’t sure, only take half.”

Wavy was born this day in 1936, a birth date he shares with the great cartoonist Ralph Steadman. May 15 is also the birthday of Las Vegas (1905) and the Asylum for the Relief of Persons Deprived of the Use of Their Reason (1817), the first private mental health hospital in the United States.

One highlight of this great celebration: Ratdog guitarist Mark Karan joined us on stage for Tell Me It’s Okay and Sugaree.

According to Moonalice legend, the tribe revered children of multiple births. Twins are special. Triplets are one and a half times as special. When there are more than three born together, the tribe stops everything and declares a regional holiday on the birthday. In Pennsylvania, the biggest Kahuna of baby holidays is for the Gosselin Sextuplets, who are – you guessed it – triply special. Alexis, Hannah, Aaden, Collin, Leah, and Joel were christened the Hershey Kisses, on account of where they were born on May 10, 2004. This was their day; we’re just lucky to be part of it.

Today is also the 136th anniversary of the nomination of the first woman to run for president. Her name was Victoria Woodhull and she was nothing short of amazing. She made a fortune on Wall Street with her sister, the first women brokers in stock exchange history. Then she dedicated herself to two propositions: women’s suffrage and free love. Those of you who are experienced in the Moonalice Legend can probably tell where this is going. Victoria was not popular with other leaders of the suffrage movement – such as Susan B. Anthony, who apparently had a problem with the free love part – but Vickie was REALLY popular with Moonalice tribe members. Still is. We’re hoping she runs again.

Three members of Tea Leaf Green joined us on stage for the final song of this great east coast tour. We love TLG and look forward to touring with them again soon.

According to Moonalice legend, the tribe had a slang term for anything that is pure in an old school sort of way. They called it, “ornithologically correct”. In the context of hemp, this meant reversing centuries of genetic engineering, working from heirloom seeds, and growing plants that are vintage, if not potent. The term “ornithologically correct” has also been applied to team mascots. The Legend suggests that Mr. Celery and the Philly Phanatic are “ornithologically correct,” while the plush version of the Oriole Bird is, well, you know, a cartoon character.

According to Moonalice legend, the Philadelphia branch of the tribe organized itself as a matriarchy centuries ago. The tribe didn’t know much about biology and nothing about estrogen. They just knew that putting woman in charge meant less war and more hemp production. And so it was until the Revolutionary War, when a bunch of very bright young men took over. From that point on, womenfolk – as well as the entire Moonalice tribe – were on the defensive. A few brave souls in Philadelphia, beginning with Betsy Ross, stood up for the matriarch, but few people listened until the very beginning of the 20th century. That’s when Philly resident Anna Marie Jarvis lobbied successfully for a holiday to honor the matriarchy on the second Sunday in May. She called it Mother’s Day and dedicated it to peace and feminism. The first Mother’s Day was 100 years ago tomorrow. Unfortunately, somewhere along the way Anna Marie’s values were replaced by those of Hallmark. Peace and feminism gave way to cards, chocolates, and roses. We honor Anna Marie as she honored her mom, a Moonalice chief of great repute.

According to Moonalice legend, hemp grown on Manhattan island has unique powers. Apparently it makes you incomprehensibly generous. How else do you explain the Lenape tribe selling the island for $24 in beads or the Dutch trading it for a microscopic island in Indonesia? Such acts of generosity eventually resulted in the tribe’s agricultural clan being displaced and the island going “smokeless”. In the process, New York became the biggest city in the country and the one with the lowest per capita carbon footprint. When the nomadic clan comes to town the locals break out their tribal air freshener, confident that they are not contributing to global warming.

This show will remain forever etched in our memory because it was the first North American performance by Yuto Miyazawa. Yuto is 8 years old. He plays a Randy Rhoades Flying V with black polka dots that is at least six inches taller than he is. But Yuto knows guitars. He played and sang Crossroads. It was unbelievable. If we get a video, we’ll post it somewhere you can find it.

According to Moonalice legend, the tribe’s agricultural clan was often forced to disguise its crop to avoid confrontations with the authorities. As we discovered in Charlotte, tribe members in the Piedmont region went so far as to grow something else: tobacco. But in mid-Atlantic states like Delaware, the tribe stuck with hemp, making subterfuge a necessity, as well as a fine art. We learned more in the 3rd inning of the Wilmington Blue Rocks game, when a mascot like no other ran onto the field: Mr. Celery. We kid you not. A stalk of celery with a goofy grin, green shorts, and green knee socks. The entire ball field could have been full of hemp and you would never have known. All eyes were on Mr. Celery.

In Atlanta, we learned about the Discordians, who believe that chaos is as worthy as order. It went from theoretical to real when we arrived in Wilmington. Across the street from our hotel was the 1st and Central Presbyterian Church. You would think the church must be at 1st and Central, right? And you would be wrong. It’s at 11th and Market. This has to be the work of the Discordians.

The signs point to Moonalice culture valuing confusion more than chaos. The tribe accepts that life is uncertain and recommends enjoying it. If you don’t know how, go to a minor league baseball game.

For the second time, lightning struck twice in a short set.

According to Moonalice legend, the 3rd of May is Trio de Mayo, the Day of Rehearsal for the tribe. Traditionally, it was a practice day for Cinco de Mayo, with a day off in between to recover. This year, May 3 was also Gig Day in Atlanta.

While perusing the closest thing we know to the Encyclopedia Gallactica, we discovered that May 3 is also Discoflux, the fifth holiday of the Discordian calendar. Digging deeper, we learned that since 1958 there has been a Discordian religion, centered on the notion that chaos is as important as order. Wow. How could we not know about this? The Discordians’ key text, the Principia Discordia, begins with the following quote:

If organized religion is the opium of the masses, then disorganized religion smokes the marijuana of the lunatic fringe.

We couldn’t have said it better ourselves. Never has a band felt more welcome at a gig than we did at the Variety Playhouse. We parked the bus in front of the theater. Right across the street was an apartment complex called the Bass Lodge. We hadn’t realized it until now, but any place Moonalice stays in a Bass Lodge.

According to Moonalice legend, Charleston was a major hub of tribal trading in the 18th century, when the American Revolution began. When the British imposed the Tea Act on the colonies in 1773, two towns rebelled. Everyone knows the story of the Boston Tea Party (Moonalice legend 11-1-07), but the story of the Charleston Revolt remains clouded in mystery. As in Boston, the raiding was the work of Moonalice tribe members. Unlike Boston, the product they seized turned out to be hemp, which explains why they “impounded” it, rather than tossing it into the harbor. As usual, history makes much more sense through the lens of the Moonalice legend.

According to Moonalice legend, the ancient tribe struggled to survive in the Piedmont region of North Carolina. Then sometime in the 18th century, they went their own way and contact was lost with other Moonalice families. We learned the full story in Charlotte from local chief Tar Heel Moonalice, matriarch of the tribe in North Carolina. It turns out that the Piedmont climate was unsuitable for hemp farming, but too nice to abandon. And so the local tribe diversified into other crops: tobacco and corn likker. Tobacco lacked the versatility of hemp, but was addictive even for politicians and judges, which helped to keep in legal. According to Chief Tar Heel, tobacco supported the tribe economically while bootlegging provided much needed exercise. The local tribe members raced their product around in cars souped up to outrun tax collectors and police. This eventually led to stock car racing. Which means NASCAR descended from bootlegging, which descended from Moonalice! How cool is that? Of course, the tribe called their product “Moonshine.”

According to Moonalice legend, the tribe fled Boston in the early 19th century. This departure, long unexplained, is notable because Boston had long been a major center for the Moonalice tribe, which played a huge role at the Boston Tea Party (see Moonalice History for Nov 1, 2007) and Bunker Hill. Then they all hit the road, beginning in 1820. No one knew why . . . until now.

The band did some research and discovered a likely explanation for the tribal exodus: the leveling of Beacon Hill. Anyone who has spent time in Boston recently knows that Beacon Hill features a whole lot of expensive real estate, but not much elevation. This was not always the case. There used to be a real hill there, until the city decided to use the dirt of Beacon Hill to fill in the marshes in what is now Haymarket Square. What the city fathers did not realize at the time was that Beacon Hill was way more than a hill. It was a Moonalice burial mound. (For an explanation of Moonalice burial mounds, see the History for April 15, 2008). The Moonmothers of ancient Boston had mighty big bongs, which accounted for the height of the Hill. The tribe was so thoroughly dismayed by the city’s wanton disregard for Moonalice custom that it abandoned the area for nearly 200 years. It turns out that the tribe didn’t stay away because of unresolved emotional issues. Nope. The explanation is much simpler. The tribe sampled so much of its own crop that it just forgot to go back. We hate it when that happens.

So Moonalice (the band) returned to Boston this day for its second visit in four months. It was the last show of a ten-show run with Jack and we celebrated with an extra helping of Howling Monkey. Yowzah! We may never come down!!!

By the way, the National Weather service reports that the odds of an individual being struck by lightning over the course of an 80-year life are 1 in 3,000. The probability of being struck twice in a lifetime is 1 in 9 million. Ignoring the odds, we played two different “Lightning” songs in the same night. Who says music can’t change the world?

According to Moonalice legend, Vermont has magical powers.

Burlington is the biggest city in Vermont and one of the few known habitats of the Moonalice tribe’s nomadic clan. It has always had great music. Now it also produces really good ice cream. And snowboards. And craft beer. And chocolate. And bagels. In short, heaven. Burlington also gave us Orson Bean, Howard Dean, Patrick Leahy, Harry Bliss, and ¾ of Phish. Pretty cool.

April 25 is a big day in history. Our favorite fun facts . . . In 1961, Robert Noyce was granted a patent for the integrated circuit. Eight years earlier – on April 25, 1953 – Watson and Crick published their first paper on DNA.

According to Moonalice legend, Rochester, NY was a major center of Moonalice culture in the years before the white man came. From what we could see, the tribe is still prominent in Rochester. Around the corner from our hotel was Stone Street Café. A few blocks away was a huge sign on an overpass: Welcome to High Falls. We felt right at home.

Rochester is home to some amazing people. Susan B. Anthony was born here. Frederick Douglass lived here. Emma Goldman, Cab Calloway, Philip Seymour Hoffman, John Lithgow, Chuck Mangione, Ol’ Hoss Radbourne, Mitch Miller and Gorilla Monsoon all hail from Rochester. But our favorite Rochester natives are the Fox sisters, Kate, Leah, and Margaret. They were spiritualists in the 19th century. In their presence, people could communicate with the dead. Their séances attracted the best and brightest of the time, including James Fenimore Cooper, Horace Greeley, and William Lloyd Garrison. For 40 years the Fox sisters were a phenomenon. Then they got mad at each other and one of the sisters blew the whistle. They had faked it from the word go. Bummer.

According to Moonalice legend, the city of Troy, New York has long been a bastion of progressive tribal activity. According to Wikipedia, Moonalice tribe members in Troy showed great leadership during Prohibition, becoming a “way station” for the illegal alcohol going to New York City from Canada. Thanks to this infrastructure, Troy was able to diversify, complimenting its speakeasies with brothels to serve western New England. Wikipedia is silent about Troy’s hemp trade in those days, but it’s worth noting that Troy’s high profile ended with World War II, the same time that hemp prohibition took hold in the United States. Coincidence? We think not.

Today is the 26th anniversary of the Conch Republic, an outpost of the Moonalice tribe in the southeast. The Republic is the town formerly known as Key West. The town seceded from the US in 1982 to protest Border Patrol roadblocks – searching for drugs and illegal immigrants – which “greatly inconvenienced” residents. The Conchs declared war, surrendered a minute later, and immediately applied