Posted November 20, 2007 in News


“That may be brutal/May be gory/But whatever else it is/It’s my story



It’s the attack of the smoking Nazis! At least in Murrieta, where last night the city council voted unanimously to ban smoking in the outdoor dining areas of restaurants, children’s play areas, schools, and within 15 feet of the front entrance of businesses. Rundown doesn’t smoke, so we really don’t give a rat’s badonkadonk about whether the rights of cancer-stick-suckers are being trampled upon. But is this a sitch of as-Murrieta-goes-so-goes-the-IE? God, we sure hope so! Because we’re salivating at the huge irony potential of, say, San Bernardino adopting similar ordinances, when the good citizens of that burg regularly inhale the equivalent of 50 packs a day (so say the people who work in the Rundown Data Research Lab, who may or may not be drunk) in the form of airborne toxins emitted by everything from idling 18-wheelers to the fart gasses queefing from the asscracks of titty bar patrons (at least Murrietans have a semblance of an ocean breeze to clear their atmosphere). Naturally, some are miffed over this slice of perceived government intrusion on people’s lives, like the chickenshit hiding under the alias Boston Tea Party, who whines on the North County Californian website “This ordinance smacks of the kind of tyranny that our Founding Fathers fought against!” Neither the Founding Fathers—or their slaves and mistresses—could apparently be reached for a rebuttal.



Rundown was supposed to go to Corona today to play with other reporter-types for a media preview of the Promenade Shops at Dos Lagos—a “lifestyle center” (that’s what they’re calling shopping malls these days) scheduled to open October 6—but we had to shine it due to our rock star sleep patterns (really, 10:30 a.m. may as well have been 5 a.m.). We just wanted the free lunch, anyway—that, and the rare chance to live out our Village People fantasies by donning the required hardhat. But we’ve been on enough junkets to know exactly what would’ve gone down: paid flack would’ve pointed out all the amenities, the Craftsman-style architecture, the pedestrian-friendly design (“You can park right in front of the stores!”), the vine-covered trellises, the T.G.I. Friday’s, blah-blah-bleah. Several things strike us about the mall: for one thing, there’s a coffeehouse called Maui Wowi, which means the master planners had no clue this is a slang term for a particularly potent type of Mary Jane; for another, the mall’s opening weekend will include such kitschy western novelties as stagecoach rides, country music bands and staged gunfights—and nothing gets us in the mood to part with our disposable income quite like gratuitous depictions of firearm violence (good thing the mall isn’t in San Bernardino, the murder capital of the IE). We guess the mall will be fine, if a bit empty at first—most of the restaurants won’t be open till 2007—but our general ‘tude can be summed up by Ronald Reagan, who we’ll paraphrase: “A mall’s a mall—how many do you need to look at?”



The IE—home to three of America’s sleaziest politicians. That’s according to the group Citizens for Responsibility and Ethics in Washington (CREW), which just released their annual list of the 20 crookedest legislators. Take that disckhead Kenny-boy Calvert, who was involved in a shady land deal he profited from. Then there’s Jerry Lewis, he of the porcelain hair and creepy, child-molester-like grin, who’s steered zillions of dollars to line the pockets of his family and friends in exchange for contributions to his campaign committee and personal PAC. And Gary Miller, who reps Chino, made the list on tax evasion charges. But wait! There’s more—sooo much more! Read the full report at—then vote these mofos out November 7.



What the fuck’s up with Ron Oden, the black, gay mayor of Palm Springs who signed a welcome letter to the Focus On the Family offshoot group Love Won Out, who are holding a conference today in the nearby burg of Indian Wells? Really, how self-hating can somebody be? If a gaggle of hood-wearing, cross-burning Klansmen or Temecula skinheads held a lynching party in the town’s Warm Sands ‘hood (where most of the all-male clothing-optional resorts are), would Oden bend over? Yeesh! Love Won Out, by the way, is one of those bizarre Christian cults that claim those evil, sin-soaked homos can be changed into happy, hetero breeders, so they hold numerous conferences every year around the country—charging gullible, questioning queers $50 a head and up, because there’s good money to be made off perverting Scripture—to sell their lie, and anything else they can profit from. Too bad their argument has more holes than a Bangkok whorehouse. Rundown will take this opportunity to provide a few inarguable facts: Exodus International, one of the first gay-to-straight groups, was co-founded by Riverside’s Michael Bussee (call us, Mike—we’d love an interview!), who later left and denounced it after falling in love and marrying his male colleague, Gary Cooper; Exodus and Love Won Out can’t provide any statistics that prove their programs work (because they don’t); If there are people who truly have gone from gay to straight, then they were never gay to begin with (it’s called bisexuality—look it up); and central to these groups are their freakish “reparative therapy” programs, which is the stuff of bad sitcoms—they claim homosexuality is caused by such things as jerking off, bad eyesight and extreme sarcastic behavior. Uh-oh, we just outed ourselves! For “cures,” they suggest men should play sports and burn their Barbra Streisand records, while gay gals should try wearing makeupyes, really! This shit would be pretty funny, too—if it weren’t so pathetic.



Ground was broken a couple days ago (Rundown was too hung over to notice) in Chino on a 100-acre branch of Chaffey College, which seems to have the whole town a-twitter—or at least Mayor Dennis Yates, who gleefully exclaims “Welcome to the college town of Chino!” Heh-heh-heh . . . don’t stop believing, Mr. Mayor, because you’ve got a looong way to go before anyone thinks of Chino as the Boston of the IE. Meanwhile, howzabout coming up with a more truthful slogan? “Welcome to Chino—We’re Incarceratin’!” “Welcome to Chino—Prison Rape Capital of the Inland Empire!” “Welcome to Chino—We’ll Make You Our Bitch!” “Welcome to Chino—It’s Shank-tastic!”



Asia’s back! The prog-pop giants of the ‘80s played last night at the McCallum Theatre in Palm Desert, and . . . well, yeah, Asia sucked then, and we’re sure they suck doubly so now. But their regional presence gives us an excuse to trumpet the local connection, which, as any self-respective sonic historian knows, is the fact that “Days Like These,” one of Asia’s final hits, was penned by Steve “John Henry” Jones of short-lived-yet-iconic IE band the Unforgiven. For a vintage video clip of the Unforgiven performing “Days Like These”—on a bizarre-looking Disneyland TV show, hosted by Peter Scolari, so you know it’s vintage—break out your duster and click up the Unforgiven memorial website at



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