Desperate Cry for Help 030

An electro-funk wizard begins his magical spells. He's armed only with special herbs he hand-picked in Tibet, a small stick of incense from the heart of Nepal, and a black and white Fender copy he picked up from a pawn shop in San Francisco.

His hair is giant, poofy, and most likely a fire hazard, and his second hand clothes were bought off a villager in Vietnam, except for the blue jeans, which he got at Oxfam, and his sneakers, which he stole from the back of a Reebok store.

As the noise gyrates from his frantic strumming, I believe I see the walls begin to bleed.

This is the dark magic of the ancient ones.

I am humbled. I offer to buy his demo tape, and he directs me to his free mp3 download website - he is truly wise.

And so the music flows freely through the world, and I sit and remember my encounter with the God of the Legends of Funkatude.