Note: Due to the well publicized and bilious hatred between intelligent pop godhead Stephen Morrissey and NRA rocker Ted Nugent, it is with great irony that each of them shall play in Portland this week--at the same venue, to boot. Each other's nemesis since the demise of their 1983 collaboration, Jazz Hands, Morrissey and Nugent have reportedly only spoken to each other twice in the past 20 years. And now, because of the intense vitriol that seethes between them like so many boiled beets, they each desired an opportunity to vent their gripes--and hopefully, find a solution to their woes; after all, it is this sort of dispute that sets off wars in less civilized nations.

Ladies and Gentlemen, may I introduce two of America's grandest exports--exclusive to the Mercury-- in a great debate that is finally let loose in public, it's the MOZ and the NUGE. --Arts Ed.

Oh, Woe is Me
by Morrissey

Morrissey
Sat Aug 24
Roseland

Oh! Woe is me! The music industry has wronged me.

But nothing is more despicable than that murderous savage, Theodore Nugent. That man knows nothing of true pain--knows nothing of a deepest yearning, lodged and weighing heavily in the soul.

He knows nothing of unrequited desire.

If Theodore Nugent knew of pain, would he tote that embarrassing entourage of guns with him, wherever he goes? The entourage that is so overt, so obvious a ploy, a call to arms for man's inhumanity to man. So boring. So silly so ugly! Oh, just thinking of him, with that lazy smile, and such ghastly style. It sickens me!

I will die alone. This much is true. But Theodore Nugent will surely die with a bullet in his gullet. So butt out, butt your pig head out, Mr. Nugent. Your take on this big life is errant.


My Wang is Huge
by The Nuge

Ted Nugent
Thurs Aug 22
Roseland

Wang Dang Sweet Motherfuckin' Poontang; The Nuge is here to show you the light! Please avert your eyes from the frail vegan frame of that Limey whiner Morrissey. When you come face-to-face with the sizzlin' Motor City Mad Man your world will be rocked six ways to Sunday. That limp-wristed fruitcake will be lucky if he doesn't get a bow in the back and his head mounted on my wall like a trophy buck.

Kids, you gotta take life by the balls and squeeze those puppies 'til they know who's the motherfuckin' boss. You gotta celebrate the flesh by penetrating the spirit within--whether it's learning to master the axe, bangin' some tail or skinning the warm carcass of an elk--you gotta show 'em who's boss.

God, Guns, & Rock N' Roll, baby, that's all that matters.

Oh, one more thing. Be sure to pick up some of my "Gonzo Meat Biltong" jerky. It now comes in three flavors: Original Beef, Barbecue Beef, and Flamethrower (for those who like their meat SPICY!), and is available at finer military supply stores.