Dear Reverend Hanson: I like to rock out with The Book out! In the two years since my brother Brad and I formed our band, HISJUICE!, we have become Hillsboro's hottest and most inspirational purveyors of alterna-Christian thrash-clash. With God's inspiration, Brad and I (and our cousin Tad on drums) become a whirling worshipful tornado of pounding, thrusting brotherhood and gnarly fealty. But now, just as Our Lord has introduced us to the A&R agent of a major Christian rock label from Memphis, HISJUICE! faces a crisis of biblical proportions.

You see, I am the lead singer, and I write the lyrics, though I truly believe that my pen is guided by a Higher Source. But recently, my brother Brad has started writing lyrics to songs, and he believes that same Higher Source guides his pen as well... but sadly, it guides him to suck massively! He rhymes words that don't actually rhyme, like "love" and "groove," and in one song he calls the Holy Ghost "baby"! His lyrics are so bad they're almost Satanic! And now Brad insists that if I don't sing the cheesy lyrics to his cheesy songs, he'll quit the band!

Reverend, is my brother a dupe of Satan, or just a jerk?


Chad Chadwick: lead singer of HISJUICE!

Dear Chad: I don't know who's "JUICE" you've been sipping, but it's certainly not HIS.

According to the King James Bible, a Rock is something you sit on, or build a church on, or stumble over, or throw, or suck oil and honey from. Music, by contrast, is a joyous noise we lift up to the heavens! "Rock" music, with its unkempt, gyrating egotists and its ear-splitting "boogie," occupies no position on the Lord's Top Ten!

In Biblical times, the sweetest music mankind has ever known was made using only harps, cymbals, psalteries, trumpets, coronets, flutes, sackbuts, and dulcimers. But who among today's young people cares for the mellifluous hooting of the sackbut, or the vibrant bleating of a well-oiled psaltery? When I was young, I sang tenor in the St. Lawrence Young Baptist Choir, a wholesome and spiritual organization. We feared God and wore chaste gowns and sang hymns from The Good Book itself, not some "cheese" music. We didn't take any "A" agents or "R" agents back then--milkshakes, apple pie, and prayer breakfasts were enough to get us "high."

Chad, do yourself a favor: get thee to a sackbut! Lay aside that lewd strutting and painful twanging called Rock, and open your ears to the sound of one psaltery strumming.