The Two Man Flannel Springboard 14" Flying Hack

Dear Friends,

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In this issue:

I. Toe Heel Flap Step Stomp Buffalo Scuff He-ball

II. We Came, We Saw

III. New Hard Taco CD Available... wait for it... NOW!

IV. The Frugal Philatelist

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I. TOE HEEL FLAP STEP STOMP BUFFALO SCUFF HE-BALL

Maybe you're a tap-dancing junkie, or maybe you're just a kid that likes to party now and again. Either way, I'm your pusher-man. The Hard Taco song for August is called, "The Funny Wagon," and it has all the real tap-dancing you need for some real good times this weekend. I've got your basic paddle and roll, your shim sham shimmy, and of course, I can set you up with some shuffle ball change heel dig flea hop flap triple cramp roll.

As a child I idolized the great tap dancers, many of whose names have long since been forgotten (I want to say Teresa Heinz and Danny Glover?) They had so much grace, and they could say more with a bunch of clicking sounds than most dancers could say with no sound at all. Truly, there is nothing more satisfying than the sound of metal on wood. Not only does that explain our universal love of tap-dancing, but it also explains our universal love of hitting cymbals with wooden drum sticks and watching horses walk back and forth on covered bridges.

It is also why one of the most popular sports on television is the Lumberjack Games.

II. WE CAME, WE SAW

What can I say? If loving lumberjack games is a crime, you might as well whip out the ink pad and take my fingerprints now, because I have no intention of being rehabilitated. I cannot resist the erotic sounds of the underhand chop, the jack and jill crosscut, the hot saw double buck, the ironjack axe throw, or the two man flannel springboard 14" flying hack.

You may be saying, "Hold on, Hard Taco. You didn't mention log-rolling (otherwise known as birling) in your list of favorites."  That was intentional, and asking only makes you look more foolish. Many of us do not feel that log-rolling should even be considered a Lumberjack Sport, because when the event is completed, the appointed log has not been chopped/cleaved whatsoever! You wouldn't say someone is a great axe-murderer because they can stand on top of somebody, would you? Of course not, and standing on top of a log doesn't make you worth beans as a lumberjack, either.

In reality, my beef with log-rolling is that it is the only event that doesn't produce that satisfying metal-on-wood sound. I have thought about this a lot, and I have reached the conclusion that the rules need to be modified so that the competitors wear tap shoes. It would sound just like regular tap-dancing, but soggier!

Anyway, if you want to get a taste for lumberjack sports, I recommend the Squamish Timber Sports Games in Sqamish, B.C., on ESPN3, or the Vicodin International Lumberjack and Lumberjill Games in Oconto, WI, also on ESPN3. The Vicodin International is the only event that I know of in which the chief sponsor is a schedule III narcotic.

III. NEW HARD TACO CD AVAILABLE... Wait for it... NOW!

Run, don't walk, to the nearest record store right now! Now turn around and run back home again!

Now you've burned off enough calories so that you can sit and listen to this CD a few times and not gain too much weight. The dazzlingly new album, "Down the Wrong Pipe," is guaranteed to be as loveable as your own children, and as magnificent as that necklace of human ears you made in Vietnam. As usual, the price is lung-shatteringly low at just $6, including shipping!

IV. THE FRUGAL PHILATELIST

Have you fantasized about owning the rarest stamp in the world? When I was a kid I used to dream about that stamp with the upside-down airplane on it. Then I discovered girls. And then I discovered this stamp with 12 small tacos on it and forgot about girls completely. You, too, will lose interest in women once you see this stamp, and with enough of them, you can ship that mail-order bride back to Greece!

With warmest regards,

Zach

Those Hot Pierogies at the Bottom of Your Spine

Dear Friends,

The Hard Taco song for June is called, "I MOON YOU!" It pays homage to two of the most beloved performers of the Russian stage. "Belka and Strelka", as they were known, were conjoined twins born in Moscow in 1855. The brothers were joined at the elbow, facing opposite directions, so one of them could speak to the audience while the other one mooned people.

Mooning was already a fashionable pastime by the middle of the 19th century, but the twins elevated the discipline an art form. Strelka was the traditionalist. He tirelessly studied the works of the European masters, attempting to replicate the buttock-unveiling techniques of contemporary and historical virtuosos. Belka was the innovator of the pair. He experimented with radical new methods, incorporating state-of-the-art technology into their act, such as Bunsen Burners and gyroscopes. In fact, Levi Strauss designed his prototype "blue waist overalls" at Strelka's request in 1873.

Their windfall came on a Spring day in 1882. Czar Alexander III was riding by the Golitsyn Hospital Gardens in his Imperial Troika when he happened upon the twins doing a street show. As luck would have it, Strelka was bent over at that very moment, performing a poignant rendition of Catherine the Great. The Czar reportedly stepped down from the carriage, raised his arms to the heavens and bellowed that he could not distinguish between his ancestor's butt and that of the artist.  Alexander immediately commissioned the twins to moon his wife, Czarina Maria, for her 35th birthday. Three weeks later in an extravagant banquet at the Terem Palace, Belka and Strelka had the opportunity to moon more than 400 of the wealthiest and most influential aristocrats in Europe. The event was so successful that the Czar named them Chief Mooners to the Imperial Court, and moved their workshop into the palace. 

For the next twelve years, they performed at the Bolshoi Theater four nights a week, honing their craft and their asses to perfection. It is said that their bare buttocks were so expressive, so emotive, they could make grown men weep with a single pants-dropping. They could moon at different speeds, different angles, and different levels of intensity, elegantly gesticulating a visual vocabulary of over 50,000 words and phrases. These moons did not just say, "Hey There!" These moons told stories.

Oh, and what great stories they were! They would moon Aleksandr Pushkin poems. They would moon Leo Tolstoy novels. After one show, Fyodor Dostoevsky himself dejectedly took the stage to confess to the audience that the twins' all-butt interpretation of "The Brothers Karamazov" was much more moving than the book he had written. "That's exactly what I was going for," he announced, "But I just couldn't figure out how to say it."

Belka and Strelka did not run from success, but they never forgot their humble beginnings. So long as they were in the employ of the Czar, they insisted on mooning the public at least one night a week, usually from the roof of the Grand Kremlin palace. These performances brought hope to the people of Russia during the bleak winters, and undoubtedly delayed the proletarian revolution by a number of years.

The twins died in 1896 when they were trampled to death on the fields of Khodynka following the coronation of Czar Nicholas II, along with over 1300 other civilians. When Nicholas heard of the tragedy, he immediately ordered their asses bronzed and hung in the antechamber at St. Basil's Cathedral, where they remain to this day. However, many historians feel that the buttocks on display in Red Square are poor representations of the original architecture, probably due to the trampling that occurred immediately before they were cast.

Now over a century later, the rich legacy of Belka and Strelka continues to touch people and inspire artists throughout the world. I hope you enjoy their song.

With Warmest Regards,

Hard Taco

DID YOU KNOW?

Belka and Strelka were commemorated in 1960, when two dogs carrying their names were launched in to space aboard Sputnik-5, returning safely to earth one day later.

Let's Do the Timewarp, MacDuff

Dear Friends,

In this issue:

A. Rock Simply that Others may Simply Rock

B. Not Just for Pedophiles Anymore

C. Better than a Nose Zit, not as good as Entenmann's Glazed PopEms

D. Let's do the Timewarp, MacDuff

A. Rock Simply that others may Simply Rock

The Hard Taco song this month is called, "Stairwell of Bended Knees," and if you've got a battery-powered dancing Coke can with sunglasses, turn it on now... it will go absolutely NUTS to this song.

B. Not Just for Pedophiles Anymore

I have set up a Myspace Account for Hard Taco. Those of you who are over 14 are probably asking, "What's MySpace?" and "Where are my goddamn dentures, Gloria?" Time to bump up the Ditropan, you doddering old prune-beast. MySpace is a web community where bulimic teenagers and their favorite crappy bands can send each other flashy messages like "That's pimped!!!" and "Thanks for the ADHD!"

Hard Taco is changing all of that. The Hard Taco Myspace page openly welcomes moth-eaten carbuncle-encrusted relics like yourself to mingle freely with the beautiful people. It's also the only place in the universe where you can listen to the EXCLUSIVE release of "Down the Wrong Pipe," the eyebrow-furrowing title track from the upcoming Hard Taco album. I finally got the whole band together for this song, plus the entire lineup from USA for AFRICA!

C. Better than a Nose Zit, not as good as Entenmann's Glazed PopEms

The Hard Taco Project has received a GLOWINGLY NEUTRAL review on a popular website that I'm sure most of you visit frequently, jeremybroomfield.com. Jeremy Broomfield makes Consumer Reports look like worthless crap. On the same page, he reviews Pedialyte, Tom Robbins, and nostril zits. I am proud to say that Hard Taco received higher marks than the nose pimples, but lower marks than a website dedicated to outlawing the use of the font 'Comic Sans.' Overall, I'd have to say that's a pretty appropriate assessment.

D. Let's do the Timewarp, MacDuff

I am amazed by modern adaptations of Shakespeare, because no contemporary director would even consider setting a Shakespeare play in Elizabethan England. They feel the need to put Juliet in fatigues, give her 80's hair, and have her lean off a portico in Managua, saying, "Art thou not Romeo, and a Sandonista?" I've seen everything from Hamlet set in Nazi Germany (where Claudius is Hitler and Hamlet's father represents the 6 million Jews) to Timon of Athens changed to a modern day San Fernando Valley high school dramady.

Furthermore, a good director should arbitrarily change the race or gender of one of the main characters. This trend took off in 1985 when Nell Carter starred in an Off-Broadway production of Henry V, coining the phrase, "Sugar, go get yo bad selves up on that breach one mo' time!" That’s not offensive at all!

This summer, I am excited to announce that the Stratford Shakespeare festival is putting on a version of MacBeth done Rocky-Horror Picture Show style. I would like to share a brief excerpt I saw on Good Morning America:

Witch 1: When shall we three meet again, in thunder lightning, or in rain?

(Audience: "When will you stop being a filthy slut?!")

Witch 2: When the hurlyburly's done, when the battle's lost and won.

Witch 3: That will be ere the set of sun.

(Audience throws SunChips at the stage and starts pelvic thrusting somewhat apathetically.)

With Warmest Regards,

Hard Taco

Weapons of Moon Destruction

Dear Friends,

This Hard Taco song for April is called, "Let's Dig Up Harry." This is the song that puts the Rave in Grave-robbing! It's 30% folky, 30% extreme and 100% free.

At the height of the Cold War, it was often said that Russia and the United States had enough nuclear warheads to blow up the entire world 10 times over. Of course, this would have required a fair amount of cooperation on the part of both nations, and the logistics of organizing it were probably prohibitive.

Since the Soviet Union dissolved, Russia has been left with a mere 22,500 nuclear missiles, while the U.S. still has about 12,000. The other confirmed nuclear powers have even fewer... China, Great Britain, France, Israel, India, and of course, Pakistan. With only 12-18 missiles, Pakistan clearly lacks the firepower to destroy the planet several times over. In fact, 12-18 nuclear warheads are barely enough to blow up the moon, and certainly not more than once. I had the opportunity to sit down with Pakistani President General Pervez Musharraf to discuss his nuclear arsenal and other subjects in a rare interview...

HTP: Since your successful military coup in 1999, you have embraced the civil rights movement, denounced extremism and made enormous strides in the peace process with India. What has been the key to the success of your administration?

Musharraf: All of that may be true, but make no mistake - If the Federal Republic of Pakistan feels threatened in any way, I will not hesitate to use pre-emptive military force... and destroy the moon IN ITS ENTIRETY.

HTP: (pause) Your brother Naved lives in Chicago and is actively involved in an organization that supports increasing trade and dialogue between Pakistan and India. What does he think of your policies?

Musharraf: Naved is a fool. His apologist tea party will not deter me from carpet bombing the moon in a cataclysmic thermonuclear inferno. Not a day goes by that [Pakistani Prime Minister Shaukat] Aziz and I don't fight about who gets to push the big red buttons and rain vengeful hellfire on our lunar enemies. He thinks we should split them, but I feel that as President, it is my privilege to push all 12-18 buttons myself.

HTP: I see that you have made this the foundation of your reelection campaign. You ran a recent TV spot saying, and I quote, "Musharraf in 2007: I will personally destroy the moon without anyone's help. I will lay waste to it, reduce it to scorched rubble and slag in the name of Pervez Musharraf, and to a lesser degree the people of Pakistan. And perhaps Allah." Do you think that this accurately reflects the political climate in Pakistan?

Musharraf: Most definitely. I do not make false campaign promises. I will annihilate, despoil, and atomize the moon. I will ruthlessly blanket the lunar surface with ferocious mushroom clouds, grinding the entire terrestrial body into offal and debris. I will then incinerate this debris, torching whatever remains until it is nothing more than aerosolized particles screaming through deep space. This interview is over.

Sincerely,

Zach

P.S. Here is the slogan from Pervez Musharraf's last election in 2001: "I like Hi-C because it comes in so many different flavors. The size of the box is convenient. If I had to pick a favorite? Probably Either Orange Lavaburst or Stawberry Kiwi Kraze. Vote for Musharraf!"

The Mysteries of Koala Bilirubin

Dear Friends,

  The Hard Taco song for March is called, "Not Really a Bear," and I'm delighted to announce that it is based on actual events.

  And now, on with the actual events. When I was in elementary school, there was a kid in my neighborhood named Jared Ziegler. Jared was a couple years younger than me, and he was very apprehensive about starting first grade. As the summer drew to a close, I decided that it would be in his best interest for me to tutor him on the subject of everything that popped into my head while I was talking.

  For some reason, the first lesson consisted of forcing him to memorize a comprehensive list of bears. As it happens, the only bears I could think of were the panda bear, the grizzly bear, and the koala bear.

  That afternoon, in his living room, Jared proudly recited his lesson for his mother. I watched eagerly, expecting Mrs. Ziegler to shower me with praises for my devotion to her child's education. Instead, she completely chewed me out, informing me that "pandas and koalas are not really bears" and that I was teaching her son lies.

  My first-grade prep course had ended before it began.

  The story could end there, but it doesn't. You see, more than twenty years later, I have been vindicated, at least partially. In the early 1980's, the scientific consensus was that the giant panda was not really a bear. After all, pandas are vegetarians and they don't hibernate. This hypothesis was supposedly supported by a study of panda hemoglobin, which erroneously concluded that pandas were more closely related to the raccoon family (Tagel 1986). Since that time, studies of panda hair (Dziurdzik et al 1998), and panda chromosomes (Hashimoto et al 1993) have confirmed that the giant panda is, in fact, a true member of the bear family.

  In your damn face, Jared Ziegler's mom.

  Now I must bide my time. I must be patient and wait for someone to perform more definitive koala studies. You see, koalas are still classified as marsupials in most one-volume encyclopedias, but it might just be that the right scientists haven't done enough rigorous testing. My contention is that zoologists have been focusing on the big picture and not paying enough attention to the actual molecules (koala molecules), which might turn out to be convincingly bear-like. For example, they may have looked at koala hemoglobin, but have they studied koala bilirubin? I'm no zoologist, but it seems to me that bilirubin studies would provide more compelling evidence than hemoglobin studies (in all cases.)

  Years from now, I would like to have this whole anecdote published in one of those "Chicken Soup for the Soul" books. As you see, the current incarnation of the Jared Ziegler Story doesn't really have an emotional catharsis or any valuable life lessons, but that will all change as soon as koalas are reclassified as bears. I will then rewrite the ending of the story as follows:

"My first-grade prep course had ended before it began.

Or had it?

Nearly fifty years passed, and then one day everyone suddenly knew that pandas and koalas had been bears all along, and Jared flunked out of the first grade because his mother was mean/dumb. Retroactively, she is really sorry to both of us, but regretably, it's too late. NOW THAT'S CHICKEN SOUP, BABY!."

  I'm hoping that last line will sway the publishers into accepting my submission if they're on the fence.

With warmest regards,

Zach

Important Addendum: In the course of my research, I learned that the most common cause of death among koalas is a chlamydia infection called "wet bottom" or "dirty tail." Just thought I'd mention that for those of you who are trying to think of baby names...

www.(misspelledword).com is totally available

Dear Friends,

  This month's Hard Taco song, "Truer Then a Teardrop," is dedicated to my daughter Scarlett, who spent the last five days in the hospital with a nasty case of bronchiolitis, a word I did not make up. We're home now, and she's feeling much better, but I thought she could use a song.

  I would like to take a moment to introduce you to Steven Giamlalis, a Customer Installation Manager at a company in Albany, NY. I am not fond of Steven Giamalis, even though I have never met him. My antipathy towards this man is rooted purely in jealousy, for Steven Giamalis has something I have wanted for years. He has www.hardtaco.com.  I have written him two very persuasive emails in the last six years, requesting that he give up the domain name, but he has never responded. Meanwhile, I have to go on pretending that what I do is a "project."

  As readers of this digest, and supporters of the Hard Taco mission, I implore you to join me in sending a clear message to Steven Giamalis that his hard taco website is not welcome in our online community. Copy the following letter into your own email program, and feel free to personalize it, using the Mad Libs format I have outlined below.

Send to: Steven Giamalis

Subject: I am not fond of you, Steven

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Dear Steven,

   I am writing to inform you that many ___(PLURAL NOUN)___, including myself, are disappointed in you. Your website, www.hardtaco.com is a ___(NOUN)___ of mediocrity that has been __(VERB ENDING IN -ING)___ for over five years. If you were using the domain name for a viable commercial or personal purpose, I could forgive you, but Steven, your last blog entry was two years ago. It's time to let go. 

   I don't want to be___(ADJECTIVE)___, Steven, but I also take issue with some of your colloquialisms. You use words like "fundage" instead of money. You call your guestbook "Ye Olde Guestbook," and refer to your computer as a "bucket-o-transistors." These perversions of the English language are akin to smearing __(SYNONYM FOR FECES)___ on Noah Webster's grave.

   Steven, there are plenty of good doman names that are still available. Do you have a hobby, such as craftwork or bingo? Why not change your domain name to www.craftworkorbingo.com?  How about www.___(MISSPELLED WORD)___.com?

   Finally, Steven - Can I call you Steven? I do not like your honeymoon photos. They seem very provincial and __(ADJECTIVE)___. Why would you take some many damn pictures of ___(THINGS FOUND IN IRELAND)___?  Of course, if I knew you or your wife personally, I would probably enjoy them more.

   Please understand that I am trying to be constructive. Feel free to write me back and let me know if you agree with my observations. 

(___ADVERB___),

(___(YOUR NAME)___)

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If anyone gets a reply from Mr. Giamalis, forward it to me, and I will send you a free Hard Taco CD or bib.

With Warmest Regards,

Zach

War re-enactments: What are they good for?

Dear Friends,

   The Hard Taco song for the New Year is called, "Egg Came First." I expect that taking a stand on this contentious issue will buy me a lot of hate mail, but I really don't care. To paraphrase Lauryn Hill, I'd RATHER DIE than have one "Chicken came first" person listen to my music.

    You know who else I'm really fed up with right now? Namby-pamby war re-enactors. I call them namby-pamby because they only seem to schedule their war re-enactments when the weather is nice. Where I live, one can go six to eight months without seeing a single war re-enactment! It’s not as if this is historically accurate... some of the world's greatest battles have been fought (or "enacted") in cold weather. Here is a timeline:

December 1777 - February 1778: The Continental Army entrenches itself at Valley Forge. Charles Wilson Peale would later write that it was "cold enough to fee George Washington'f nipplef through his tunick (sic)." 

November - December 1812: Napoleon's campaign in Russia. It was so frigid that the Emperor had to wear a double nine gore shirred overskirt with flounces atop his organdy polonaise and waist-bustle peplums!

September 1864: Sherman's Union army arrives in Atlanta. The weather is mild and refreshing.

November 1864: Sherman sends a dispatch to Washington stating, "I'm freezing my ass off." Two weeks later he sends another one that simply says, "Problem solved."

December 1944 - January 1945: The Battle of the Bulge, otherwise known as the Second Battle of Ardennes, takes place North of Antwerp. This may have been the largest land battle ever fought by the United States Army, and yet NO ONE HAS EVER HEARD OF IT! (The exception being people who learn about history in ways other than watching live war reenactments.)

    In spite of these pivotal winter campaigns, most namby-pamby war re-enactors prefer to commemorate cushy summer battles like Gettysburg and Bunker Hill.

    Give me a break! By all accounts, Gettysburg was more of a three-day weekend than a battle.  Obviously, there were thousands of casualties, but that's only because the Union General George Meade turned down Robert E. Lee's offer to "Suttle this like gentlemen in the volleyball pitch." (Meade had a nagging stomach wound from the Battle of Glendale that acted up when he tried to serve overhand.)

    Still, there is ample evidence that the "bloodiest battle fought on American soil" was, in fact, a charming and lively affair, owing in large part to the agreeable weather. In the South, it is still referred to it as "Gettysburg Days," because it was really more of a summer festival than a battle. For instance, halfway through the engagement, both sides stopped for twenty minutes while the Union Fife and Drum Corps entertained the crowd with a medley of Stephen Foster songs. They started marching in a group, fanned out to spell U.S.A., and then regrouped in the shape of Abraham Lincoln's face. Then the Confederate Drum Corp (they were too poor to afford fifes) marched around in the shape of Jefferson Davis' face, playing the drum part to "When Johnny Comes Marching Home."

    Meanwhile, George Custer ran a bonnet-making workshop out of his tent and did not participate in the fighting at all! (I learned this on ANTIQUES ROADSHOW, because this lady had one of the bonnets and it was worth over $250 in today's dollars.)

    Anyway (and in conclusion), when war re-enactors start waging some serious arctic warfare, I'll stop categorically calling them namby-pambies.

    Please download my song now.

With Warmest Regards,

Zach