THE SHAPE OF KISS TO COME

Yes, we have finally discovered the secret Protocols, the Manifesto of KISS. With this they will dominate the world, unless stopped by insurgent forces and fifth columns comprised of people who are probably too literate to read any article with Kiss’ name on it anyway, which means that NOTHING can be done to retard them. That’s right; we, CREEM as both sentient entity and journal of public mores, have seen rock’s future and its name is Kiss. In fact, we have seen rock’s past and its name also is Kiss, which makes them the ultimate band, especially since they stand 4-L7 for what the highest karmic whang-on emblematizes: namely, making lots and lots of money by peddling inflatable garbanzos!

Kiss was, were and will be —while not commies, they are the ultimate realization of a secret plot that goes back centuries. Ever hear of the Illuminati? Well, that was just a red herring, all you kneejerk sucker conspiracy buffs—the Delusionati were the real deal, from Tyco Brahe to the twin dead doctors-AND THAT’S WHERE KISS CAME FROM!!! You think they were just four zit-pucks from Queens (the town, not the group) and Brooklyn who sent away box tops for inflatable bat wings and firebreath pellets you can buy with Xray specs and hand buzzers out of comic book ads? Huh! Look again, Rock Critic Establishment. You ever hear of the Protocols of Zion? Yas? No? Well, no matter either way, because that too was a cover-up, because Zion spelled backwards is NOIZ, which is Kiss and no else’s body, mister! Slade were just a dry run, Grand Funk and Alamagordo testing twim—“Shout It Out Loud” is the anthem, the Internationale of the Blackjocks (forget Brownshirts— how moribundly European [ich] [R.I.P. Nazi Rock]) of the Future.

Herewith, then, in the interests of cultural D.E:W. lines and that you ALL may prepare yourselves—is the Manifesto, in the form of a TEN POINT PROGRAM (who but a trig freak needs to know how to count higher), of Kiss, and thus implicitly, tacitly AND YOU GOT NO CHOICE-ATIVELY, the FUTURE OF ROCK.

IN THE FUTURE:

1. All rock bands will model themselves not on the principles of Chuck Berry and the Beatles, but P.T. Barnum and Forrest J. Ackerman.

2. All rock bands will be geek shows.

3. All rock shows will be snuff movies produced by Walt Disney and starring Beany, Cecil, Gumby & Pokey.

4. All rock audiences will consider the highest form of boogie/ entertainment having ganglia spewed in their faces, with, of course, a protective screen erected in the space between (just like TV), because nobody REALLY wants to have diced intestinal tracts vomited all over ’em.

5. All rock bands will be FORBIDDEN by ECUMENICAL EDICT from having more than three chords. And they will have to play those three in the same order at least 50% of repertoire. In this way, all citizens will be happier, less divisive or deviant, united in the Flow That Glows a.k.a. THE TRUTH.

6. No rock bands will sing big words, multiple rhyme schemes like “change/rearrange,” or references to Biblical-historical-LITERARY ' figures a la Highway 61 Revisited. Edicts pertaining to an enforcement of this will not be necessary, because all language everywhere will have been reduced to a finite code (samples: “party,” “[simulated orgasm noise],” “yeah,” “my girl/ woman/cabbage/suckatootle”) which, in the arena of the arts specifically, shall communicate the traditional grand aesthetic/emotional flourishes and anagnorises through association blocks (cf. William Burroughs, The Job).

7. No audience will display appreciation and enthusiasm by polite applause, wry knowing laughter, or the mass rubbing of chins to indicate thoughtful digestion. They will, on the contrary, be vast heaving seas of atavistic GNARR-GNASHH (cf. Michael McClure’s Ghost Tantras—the only future-legal book—and the Israelites chasing ass around the Golden Calf before Moses came trudging down the mountain like Dylan with the Dix Douse Dictums in C.B. DeMille’s The Ten Commandments).

8.All “children” will remain that way, and live with (cooked for, cleaned up after, totally supported by—no jobs, not even “summer,” an insidiously exploitative ruse) their parents till they (the children) are 40 years of age. BY LAW. After that they (the children) will be free to go their own ways and die or whatever, and the parents will be put to death.

9. Everyone will be Normal (cf.

The Munsters).

10. “Music” will be a term of the past, like dodos (who may make a comeback), radio plays, plays, mono1 and new dimensions in sexuality. “Music” will be regarded as a noodle epithet redolent of sickly nostalgia, which will also no longer exist, and in its place all citizens of this planet will cavort on Babylonian sandbox monkey-bars of NOIZ, like Pinocchio on Pleasure Island. But your noses will not grow (tongues will instead), neither will you ever get gorge-geysered and throw up though thou shall sup (suck) on candy the day-long, nor will thee awaken from soporous golden slumbers to find thyselves lighting matches in the bellies of whales. Or, as Boy Howdy the Ancient of Days once did declare: “HAIL ERIS, ALL HAIL DISCORDIA!!!!!'’