Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Tag: mickey hart (page 1 of 58)


Okay, can someone take the phone away from Grandpa Drumsalot? We’re two weeks from Minions memes.

Three Dead In Massachusetts

“You want some, Pig?”

“Keep that devil’s lettuce away from me! The ol’ Pig smokes Camels like Jesus said to in th’ Bible!”

“He said that?”

“I’m just repeatin’ what I heard in Sunday School.”


Anything made of metal that remained still for more than ten minutes got a Stealie welded to it; objects not made of metal would get Stealies stuck to them.


Garcia’s head looks like a chimney brush. Just saying.


This is also from the Kresge Plaza show in 1970; like I said, the students had taken the campus in protest of the Kent State murders.

We speak now to the Younger Enthusiast, may they stay so forever. On April 30th, 1970, Nixon announced his new strategy to win the Vietnam War, which was by going to war with Cambodia. And, if that failed, Laos. Nixon was going to win this war, no matter how many wars he had to start. Naturally, this alarmed able-bodied young men, whom are required to have a war, and it doubly alarmed students because in 1969 the college deferment had been eliminated.

(Did people avoid the draft by taking a couple credits each semester for the length of the war? That might have been my method. I could have easily hid from the war for a decade at my local community college, taking whatever class interested me. That sounds like a pleasure, actually: you could learn, and make new friends.)

In 1940, the Unites States started drafting young men, which makes sense, but then the government forgot to stop when WWII ended, and so there was conscription until 1973. Any amount of thought or research will lead you to the fact that armed forces rarely want conscripts; they’re just going to fuck everything up on purpose. Remember how Klinger from MASH was always trying to get thrown out of the Army? In real life, that’s less cute because the guy who really wants out of the Army is surrounded by guns and grenades. How are you going to get any soldiering done when half your time is making sure your squad isn’t trying to escape? Throughout history, a conscripted troop will bolt the first chance he gets.

But this is the US government we’re talking about, so the draft stayed. There were free passes, though: college, marriage and/or children, homosexuality. The nation needed to protect its thinkers, families, and gays, so they were not allowed to go to war. (That’s why gays weren’t drafted, right?) In ’69, like I said, Nixon removed the student deferment.

And then, right before May Day, he announces the whole “Start two wars to win one” campaign. The students responded with equanimity.

And then they began setting things on fire.

They did at Kent State, at least: things got out of control. A little bit by the kids, but mostly by the adults. And the adults had all the weapons. The bayonets, too: on the 3rd, several students got stuck. The National Guard had brought bayonets to the campus, and then used them. That was on the 3rd. On the 4th, the National Guard remembered that they had rifles, and they used them, too.

Two of the dead were 19 years old, and the other two were 20. Nine others, all students, were wounded. The closest was not within 100 feet of the Guard’s position, the farthest was over 700 feet away. All were unarmed.

No criminal charges were ever brought. Civil cases failed. The public blamed the kids, and reelected Nixon in a landslide 16 months later.

This is what the Alt-Right are trying to do at Berkeley right now, this is what they want. Ann Coulter masturbates to that photo of the girl crying over her dead friend.

That went from history to current events kinda quick.

Everything happens at once.

It does tend to do that.

M.I.T As Well

When dunces give you that “Jerry didn’t want it to be about politics, maaaaaaan,” jive, just remind them the Dead were literally the house band of a student riot. This is 5/6/70 on the Kresge Plaza at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. The band was scheduled to play the next night in the gym, but when the kids took the campus in protest of the National Guard murdering four Kent State students, the Dead agreed to provide the soundtrack; they were hidden in the back of a bread truck and smuggled onto the site. (It looks like they didn’t bring Pig’s organ.) It was cold–May in Boston can get wicked chilly–and they had more trouble keeping their guitars in tune than normal, but the set’s got a crackly and wired energy; Dancin’ in the Street is the highlight, which makes sense given the context.

Garcia didn’t do politics because he was terminally passive-aggressive, but the Grateful Dead always chose sides, and it was always the side you’d expect.

Do You Know What The Street Value Of This Mountain Is?

I just don’t understand why you’re here.

“I can’t take a vacation?”

Sure, you can. But you’re at a ski resort in non-ski clothing. If you skied, you would have a custom coverall with Stealies¬† all over it. You look like a guy schlepping down to Kossar’s to get bialys.

“Have you ever heard a mountain? So many sounds just waiting to be recorded.”

Please don’t turn the mountain into a drum.



“The ski lift.”


“When you hit the support cable with a hammer, it makes the most amazing noise.”

Don’t hit the support cable, Mickey. With anything, let alone a hammer.

“It’s perfectly safe.”

How so?

“No one’s died yet.”

That isn’t what makes something safe.

“The snow is very fluffy, too.”

People are still using the lift while you’re doing this?

“They increase the resonance! Their bodies are like echo chambers.”

I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.


We’re A Two-Gong Band

“How many cables do we need, Precarious?”

“All of them.”


“All of them.”


“Put everything we own on the stage.”



They must be playing one of their bibbledy-boppidy songs that Pigpen can’t understand, because look how sad he looks with that stupid tambourine.

Just Here For The Fresh Powder

Louise Mensch just accused Mickey’s hat of being a Russian operative.


Mickey doesn’t ski. Those are “guy who doesn’t ski” clothes, and I can’t even make fun of him because that’s exactly what I wear when it’s cold. (Except for the track pants. I don’t know why Mickey’s wearing Adidas track pants. Maybe his pants are also Russian operatives.)

Beam Me Up, Mickey

One of these days, Mickey and Bill Walton are going to have a Dead shirt-off, and I don’t think both of them will survive the ordeal.


In Donald Trump’s dreams, his hands are the size of Bill Walton’s. (Holy shit, look at those paws.)


What’s the doohickey? Bottom right on the near side of the Beam. It looks like a coin slot. Does the Beam take quarters? If someone is playing the Beam and you put your quarter down, do you get next?


Is Mickey about to perform? Or–and this is my guess–has he begun wearing those sweatbands at all times?

Reunited And It Choogles So Good

“Hey, Billy?”

“Yeah, Mick?”

“Who are all the new people in the band?”

“Piano player’s named Keith. Some kinda bullshit last name.”

“What about the chick?”

“That’s his old lady.”

“You’re shitting me.”




“He got a big dick or something?”

“Haven’t seen it yet.”

“Tell me if you do.”


“Something wrong with her throat?”

“No, that’s what she sounds like.”

“Okay. Billy?”


“Who’s the little guy with all the synthesizers?”

“He belongs to Phil. Neil? I wanna say his name is Neil.”

“Is he contributing?”

“No one’s quite sure. Tell you this, though: this whole tour, him and Phil have been making the most unholiest racket you ever heard during set break. Merch sales went up 20%.”


“They scared everyone into the lobby.”

“Sure. Hey, Bill, it’s nice to be back.”


“The Rhythm Devils are back together!”



“That’s what I said. Yay.”

Horny Billy

“Ass! I got horns on my dick!”


Nice dick-horns, Billy.

“Gonna play ’em again!”


That is a very comical sound. What’s with the headphones?

“Listening to the game. Got five grand on the Pistons.”

Holy shit, is that a ponytail?

“I’m going through one of my mid-life crises.”

One of?

“Yeah, I’ve had like a half-dozen. I grow my hair out, buy a sports car, and start plowing real young skank.”

How is that different from your normal life?

“I told you: I grow my hair out.”


“Real young, too. Wait, maybe not. When am I?


“Still socially acceptable! Real young, too.”

Jesus, Billy.

“I got a whole system with ’em: first I get ’em an all-day sucker.”

And then?

“Then I buy ’em a lollipop.”

Badum bum.

“I can’t help myself. They’re still covered with, like, a downy fur.”

You’re talking about baby ducks.

“Tawny. With a dewy lip. Oh, Ass, they’re loamy of loin.”

Stop being weird and obscure.


Stop it.

“I actually use these horns on the skank.”

In God’s name, how?

“Stick in in their crotches and blast it off. If y’hear an echo? Find new skank.”

We’re done.

So Many Rhodes



What’s the little one on the left?


Not the little person. The small wooden box on top of the monitor.




Keith’s posture can be used to calculate Pi.

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