The Week in Weird

Since we're among those who'd think that talk of sodomy would help people work up a thirst, we're a little baffled that the folks at Starbucks are taking a -- so to speak -- hard line against such activity. The bean counters at the coffee bean purveyors' HQ have decided that Bruce Springsteen's Devils & Dust is unsuitable for sale in their shops due to the song "Reno," which contains a rather graphic lyric about a man pricing certain sexual activities with a prostitute. While we don't recall Springsteen going out of his way to celebrate anal sex on any of his previous efforts, we think the coffeemongers should play it safe and refuse to stock Born to Run as well. After all, that stuff about wrapping legs around velvet rims is bound to conjure up images of Ginger Lynn in some folks' minds . . .

There are those who think our court system is overburdened with frivolous lawsuits. But even hardcore conservatives would be hard-pressed to deny that a man has a right to sue over being associated with Matchbox Twenty against his will. That's the claim Frank Torres has lodged -- admittedly a bit on the late side -- after finding his image on the cover of that band's 1996 album, Yourself or Someone Like You. Torres says that the band caused him great emotional distress by "knowingly and maliciously" using a photo of him -- wearing a flying helmet -- on the disc's cover, and now he wants restitution. From the looks of that cover, Torres would probably settle for a cut of backstage deli trays in perpetuity, although he'd probably have to battle Rob Thomas for the good stuff . . .

If you know us, you know how hesitant we are to play nice with Fred Durst. But as much as it pains us to do so, we have to tip our hat to Red Hat for letting fans know that some retailers are ripping them off by selling Limp Bizkit's new The Unquestionable Truth, Pt. 1 for a higher price than it merits. We'll leave our opinion on just how much it should be going for out of the equation for the moment, and thank Durst for using the band's Web site to note: "We have received word that a lot of stores are selling this EP at full CD price, and we do not think it's fair. If you want to own the actual EP and can't find it in any retail store for the price of an EP, we are very sorry and want you to know our intentions." That attitude actually makes us feel quite warm and fuzzy -- as does the fact that The Unquestionable Truth clocks in at under half an hour in the first place . . .

A gaggle of folks are meeting in London this week to discuss whether or not the concept of time travel is actually valid. And while we previously had no opinion on the topic, a school official in Michigan has landed us firmly in the "yes" category by taking her district back to the Dark Ages. Last week, Benton Harbor school superintendent Paula Downing forbid a local junior high school band from performing "Louie, Louie" in the town's annual Grand Floral Parade, citing the objectionable content of the forty-five-year-old tune. Despite the fact that the FBI failed to find anything obscene about the song during a two-year investigation back in the Sixties -- not to mention the technicality that the marching band wouldn't be performing any lyrics at all in its instrumental rendition -- the ban stands. Wonder what Ms. Downing would think of a big-band version of that "Reno" song.