kleinbl00

Ken Jennings, more human than human.

1) What do you think, 10 years from now, the lasting cultural legacy of 4chan will be?

2) If you could go back in time to 10 years ago and do anything differently, would you?

3) What aspects of 4chan (other than the obvious /b/ != 4chan) do you wish people knew more about?

Why hasn't a livable minimum wage been a campaign issue since, like, the depression?

How, exactly, does one watermark a genome with "a coded version of the names of the team members, a URL, and an e-mail address"? How do you know those segments of the genome are inert? How many generations will they last before mutating? And is this all a devious plot to make the scum in my shower spell out your logo you evil mad scientist you?

I was lower-rung about the time you were higher rung (the Metallica/Corrosion of Conformity tour - that was what? '98? I ran FoH and monitors at the club in Seattle that Corrosion of Conformity did a set at for reasons I still don't understand).

A little while after that Great White and Dokken came through. And I'm sitting there in our combination monitor world/ready room and Don Dokken is leaning over my shoulder, watching the stage, getting ready for his entrance. And I notice he's wearing this rather... glam leather jacket with the name "DOKKEN" in rhinestones on the back.

I look at him, he looks at me. I say

"What's it like having your own name in rhinestones on your back?"

He says

"Versace. You like?"

And then he jumps on stage and starts wailing in that famous falsetto.

During the set my boss and his completely trashed wife wandered down and started trying on Great White's wardrobe. Jack Russell comes in and starts asking them what they're doing and they think he's Dokken - they start asking him if he feels cheated opening for a pussy band like Great White (this was maybe 3 months before the Station fire and hell no we didn't let their pyro on stage). Jack Russell, to his credit, responded with grace and dignity and asked my boss' wife to get out of his Spandex.

Great White mixed their own monitors - they'd hop off the stage, tweak some knobs and hop back up. So me, my girlfriend and Don Dokken sat around drinking cognac and talking about sweaters and Lisbon for an hour or so.

All in all, probably my least metal moment, or collection of moments. I told that story once within earshot of Alexandra Patsavas and she gave me a glare that would have melted lead. Apparently telling stories about Don Dokken in the earshot of "Miss Death Cab" is gauche in the extreme.