With running out of places to pierce steadily creeping up the list of problems afflicting American citizens, we're happy to see Fabolous step into the fray with a solution. The jewel-loving rapper has found a painless way to sport a diamond right at the front of his skull -- by retrofitting a New York Yankees baseball cap with a genuine diamond. Always the generous sort, Fab is sharing his bounty -- for a fee -- with anyone who cares to pony up the dough for one of the limited edition "59Fifty" lids. While we're not sure that any self-respecting Yankee hater -- and, we're sure that all proper-thinking readers fall into that category -- would prefer taking a cap in the ass, we sure-as-shootin' think it a better notion than the below-the-belt piercing advocated by ol' Leonard Kravitz . . .
We began to wonder what kind of world we were living in around the time people started criticizing our rock stars for abusing illicit substances, but, for the love of God, we've gotta draw the line at forcing them to eliminate four-letter words from their vocabulary. We hit that danger zone last week when Darkness frontman Justin Hawkins launched a perfectly good string of profanities in the direction of a club patron in Los Angeles, only to be cowed into apologizing by do-gooders who informed him that the young lady was actually a fan who won a contest sponsored by a British magazine and not a dirty, stinking journalist from said paper. If the powers that be start demanding musicians share their beer, we're scanning the skies for the four horsemen of the apocalypse . . .
The "Springsteen Is God" bandwagon took a serious blow last week when the Boss proved himself unable to stop the demolition of the Carousel House he huffed nostalgic about in "Born to Run." Developers with a yen for waterfront condos spent plenty of time counting beans along to the strains of Broooce's Asbury Park romanticizing before finalizing plans to take over the blighted Asbury Park waterfront, but the time is now apparently right for a takedown of the wild, the innocent and the low-income housed. Springsteen did manage to win one victory, though: "Tillie," the looming (and pretty doggone frightening) smiley face that adorns one building in the doomed complex, will be preserved. The Stone Pony, where Bruce cut his musical teeth, is also said to be slated for the wrecking ball, but if that does happen, those "surprise" E Street concerts can always be held in a pair of Clarence Clemons' discarded trousers -- which probably have the same capacity . . .
Apparently convinced that voters have matured enough over the past decade or so to put the "did he inhale?" question behind them, former Jefferson Airplane guitarist Jorma Kaukonen has announced that he's running for president. His official platform includes an anti-hatred plank -- which works well enough for us, as long as we can claim an exemption for Phish fans -- and a healthcare position noting that "all human beings have the ability to heal themselves through love, faith and music," which should come as a relief to Deadhead doctors who might worry that Jorma might play the socialized medicine card. Since he's well-situated in the battleground state of Ohio, Kaukonen's chances easily outstrip those of your average Alaskan yodeler, but if New Hampshire's GG Allin had chosen to live free, rather than die, he'd have our write-in for sure.