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09.18.02
Update from the AAP -Associated ArnoCorps Press
compiled by M. Calahan
ADLER LAWSUIT BEGINS NEXT WEEK
Beginning September 23, 2002, ArnoCorps bassist Toten Adler will appear in a SF courtroom to begin proceedings in a civil law suit. Members of the legendary East Bay band The Weasel Behinds are suing their original bass player, Mr. Adler, for copyright infringements, claiming that Adler is no longer entitled to bear the logo of the band, as he has been discharged from the group for several years. Unfortunately, the logo (a big-eyed weasel with an enormous back side) had been permanently tattooed to Adler's shoulder blade at the band's incarnation. Prosecutors want the court to order Adler to have a plastic surgeon remove the tattoo. "I can't afford that crap," Adler commented to this reporter. "I offered to take it off with a cheese grater, but their pussy lawyers got nauseous at the idea. What the fuck do they want from me?"
When asked if the band members that brought the charges would consider contributing to the costly laser surgery, prosecuting attorney Daniel Mayhew replied, "All the money the band ever made was done so after they rid themselves of this sociopath. They were never able to even complete a gig when Mr. Adler was in the band. By the third or fourth song, he would have gone mad and already have destroyed a good portion of the equipment. If anything, Mr. Adler should thank his lucky stars for ever being part of such a talented group of young men."
Reiterating the question whether the band would pay the medical bills, Mr. Mayhew added, "Oh. Not really, no."
Adler, well-known for his nonconformist style of living, insists on representing himself. "I've seen like 15 episodes of Perry Mason. If that fat queen can do it, so can I."
When asked what his main argument will be, Adler commented, "What makes them think the tattoo's about their stupid band. It's just a weasel with a big ass. Come on."
The trial is expected to last several weeks.
NAGELBETT HOAX REVEALED
On the evening of July 12, 2002, members of the band ArnoCorps waited for their drummer, Erich Nagelbett, to arrive for practice. After an hour, the band members searched for Nagelbett in nearby bath houses, strip clubs and other known haunts, but failed to turn up any leads. Then, as he passed the English pub The Two Lumps, near First and Central, lead singer Holzfeuer heard a voice over the throngs of cheers from inside. "At first time, the thing I hear I think is just a happy person who sounds like Nagelbett. Then, I hear something that made my ears stop like two trucks. Someone yelled the name Nagelbett. I walked past the puny bouncer and there I saw Nagelbett on a stage wearing a crown and sash. He had just been won English Gardener of the Year award. I was so upset, I looked at him."
Realizing the futility of attempting a lie, Nagelbett broke down and confessed his true identity to the band members who had thought they had known him. "I'm English-Austrian. Born and raised in London's north side to Austrian parents who set out in search of a more durable fiber for their mail-order handmade suspenders business. My whole life, I never felt that I belonged among the scones and crumpets. It felt somehow alien to me. Then, in 1997, one of my lads smuggled in a bootleg cassette of a live performance. The moment I heard it, a strange sensation came over me. It was as though the lyrics were written for me and me alone. They spoke to me. The band on that tape was ArnoCorps. When I brought this to my father's attention, it was then that he admitted to me my true Austrian ancestry.
"I followed ArnoCorps with a near obsessed devotion all across the UK and Europe. After the band was lost in the mountains and presumed dead, I felt as though, well, that was it. Then, when I read in the trades that Holzfeuer was reforming the band in the States, I dropped everything, including a blue-eyed Bog 5-months pregnant, and made a mad dash west. I had always derived a pleasant feeling from knocking a bat over the heads of my mates during drunken scuffles, so I hoped this would aid me in drumming for my favorite band.
"When I met Holzfeuer, I worried that my Queen's English would work against me, as it is no secret the animosity between Austrians and the English. It goes back centuries. So, I adopted my father's accent, told a joke my grandfather would always tell at Christmas and got the job. After that, I was afraid to let on about my true identity. I only smoked cigars in lieu of fags and found the only way to disguise my tea drinking everyday at 4 o'clock was to hide it in my canteen. Now, I don't care if you're Johnny Royalty or Jimmy the Serf, cold tea is utterly barbaric."
Asked if he was angry with Nagelbett, Holzfeuer answered, "No. I would have done the same thing had I worn the same shoe size. His devotion to Arno is still evidence. It is not about where you come from or what skin color your arms have. Arno comes from within."
Still, it seemed the guilt was too much for Nagelbett to endure. On the evening of July 17, while walking along the shores of Fisherman's Wharf in San Francisco with fellow member Inzo, on what was supposed to have been a reconnaissance mission for a really good bowl of chowder, Nagelbett made a bold decision. The majority of the details of what followed remained a mystery, as sole eyewitness Inzo's only response was to point west and mutter, "Splash. Mmm."
Exactly one week later, a telegram arrived at the band's practice space. It was from Nagelbett. In it, he admitted to jumping into the Pacific, in an attempt to reach Austria. He was picked up three days later by a cargo ship bound for Thailand. From there, he planned to make his way to the motherland where, through a complete and total immersion into the culture and language, he hopes to give birth to that part of himself he feels he has never fully known or understood. He apologized to his band mates for doing wrong by them and hoped that someday they could forgive him.
ArnoCorps and its legions of fans wish to extend good luck to Nagelbett in his attempts at betterment of self. May the footsteps of Crom lead you.
THE SMELL OF STALE DEATH
Stemming from complaints made by club owners regarding the stale smell left behind by guitarist Inzo, this reporter's curiosity was jolted. Asked to describe the smell, Alan Kenne, owner of Bay Area club {omitted}, answered, "It was like my grandmother's closet."
When asked why he ever had reason to smell his grandmother's closet, Mr. Kenne answered, "Like you haven't. Don't act so pious."
Another club owner, who wished to remain unnamed, described the smell as "...the air that creeps into your nostrils after its been released from a cedar chest opened after many decades."
Not only were these observations made by people outside of ArnoCorps, but from those within the group itself. One member, who also wished to remain anonymous, said in confidence, "Since I've joined the group as guitarist, I've had to spend a lot of time with Inzo, learning the ArnoChords and what not, and I've noticed that I get kinda creeped out whenever I'm alone with an article of Inzo's clothing. The two of us were practicing in his room one night and when he left to make a sandwich, I felt like someone else was still in the room, watching me with cold, dead eyes. I don't know what it is, man, but I always get chills."
Inzo, when asked about the claims, grunted twice before turning his back on the question and walking away.
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