This the the program from last night’s show, which featured Will Pilot, The Ks, The Neutron Drivers, and Jupiter Deluxe. The show was a benefit for Bar Matchless, where audience members were encouraged to bring matches. The title really has nothing to do with this bunch of words following.
The Neutron Drivers swung their brooms in wide fast swoops as the particles spat past. The Will Pilot focused on keeping the spinning subatomics on course. Magnets whirred and the supercollider hummed with its mission.
Electrons found their twins in different parts of the universe. One day this would lead to a form of human transportation, but not today. One neutron brothered with one a mere quarter of a globe away, five feet underground in a basement in Queens.
“We need new angles!” said the captain of the Neutron Drivers.
“Very well” said the Will Pilot, and siphoned the particles down a new corridor.
Opening windows in the fabric of space (but not time! It’s not as easy as all that!) they fired their pellets along the length of the great K, a might axis of tunnels beneath most of the continent. At the nexus of the leg and the arm the neutrons collided, exploding.
In Queens a tiny black hole opened, it’s mouth wide like a hungry chick.
Meanwhile, further out in the solar system, Jupiter yawned and swirled. New colors emerged from its rusty stripes, and then the gas giant glowed and expanded.
Driving home from a speaking engagement, Roger Waters looked into his rear-view mirror. “Two suns in the sunset…” he mused, “…could it be the human race has won?”
I apologize to everyone involved. None of the other bands were consulted about this classic-rock fetishistic nerd bomb.