November 07, 2004

PAID AD FOR THE SHIT HITTING THE FAN

While you sleep, the unicorn quietly works on filing two years of back taxes, in hopes of proving poor enough that the federales and art academia say " Yes, we pity you, take our money..." and greenlights 24,000 a year for the education. By next Monday. Cross yr legs and your fingers, home peices. It will be a good thing for me to be off the mean streets and up in a classroom with teens acting like puzzled panthers, fighting about that celebrated dick J. Pollack.

Meanwhile, while I sweat dog biscuits over my taxation without representation homework, somewhere, in Chicago, a someone is hatching a plan .

My roomate pointed out to me an ad clipped from Section One of this weeks Chicago Reader. Totally curious. Ad was placed pre-election, and the day of "hitting the fan" is 11/9 - which my roommate believes is signifigant. Again, totally curious: performance art, vengence, speculation, conspiracy, scare tactic, renegade gov't agent, Anarchists, French Turncoats?
The ad copy is as follows:

___________________________________________
PAID ADVERTISMENT

On Monday, November 8, 2004 go outside of your home
about 10pm - 11pm. Try to
find a quiet place like a backyard or an alley. Listen
real closely. Off in the night you'll be able to
hear Barry Mc Guire singing "Eve of Destruction."


Go back in your home and be with your loved ones


The next day , it's gonna hit the fan.

Signed: Michael J. Foley, November 1, 2004
The government knows who I am.

_____________________________________________

Barry McGuire wrote "Eve of Destruction" as a protest anthem in the sixties. He is currently making a living as an entertainer on Christian cruises, according to his website. This, may or may not be signifigant.

The last major act of in-town shit hitting the fan on an eve of destruction was October 6th, 1969, during the Students for a Democratic Society Days of Rage convergance. The kids blew up the statue honoring cops killed in the Haymarket Riots. They did not settle for blowing it up once, they blew it up every time it was re-erected, and as a result, the statue was under 24 hour police watch for the next 33 years or so.

Google results for Michael J. Foleys of Chicago:

* Michael J. Foley, sorta-prominent attorney handling major brain trauma cases.
* Michael J. Foley, CEO of Heineken Brewing Co.
* Michael J. Foley, VP of the Chicago Trust Company.

HMMMMM.
My curious mystery non-threat-threat alert is up on yellow.
Details to follow after tommorows alley listening sesh.

Really:
I imagine someone renting out ice cream trucks to canvas the city with the foreboding folk tune, thinking that perhaps it is the most gentle way to warn the townsfolk of the impending apocolypse.


Posted by Jessica at November 7, 2004 09:48 PM | TrackBack