Happy 30, biggest marketing blunder in history! More New Coke Mashups for everyone!

the OLD stem.....

the NEW stem!!!!

OH NO! NO COKE?! THIS PARTY'S BUSTED! BUT AT LEAST WE HAVE....

THE OLD COKE....

THE NEW!!!!!

Remember the Coke....And the one video game!!! The 30th crack birthday bash continues!

Here's my old new coke ad Obama hope/change selfie...

AND THE ONE MASHUP!!

happy 30th, New Coke Crack-Cocaine Ads! Grab a couple a' cold ones in the fridge!

The new OLD New Coke.....

The OLD new New Coke!!!

The NEW COKE "AD" to end all NEW COKE FADS!!! HAPPY 30TH BIRTHDAY, CRACK!!!

The OLD New Coke......

The NEW New Coke!!!!(CRACK)

O Counterculture, where art thou?, part II: Occupy Wall Street

Keep hope alive. Those three words echo in my head as the OCCUPY movement across the country and around the world is about to celebrate its two-month birthday. Perhaps my prophecy of a new counterculture in part one of this article is bearing fruition. And it almost directly coincided with the 20th birthday of Nirvana's Nevermind. A movement which oddly enough is amorphous, has no leaders, and no one to claim as the spokesperson for the new generation. But perhaps these college kids want it that way. As with the punk movement and others before it, the proclamation has always been "kill your idols". Or have none to begin with. It makes sense, for idols always fail us. One thing is for certain, though. The phrase "Mic check!" is no longer a mindless hip-hop slogan.

Of course, the question is, is the OCCUPY movement with us to stay or is it just another flash-in-the-pan phenomenon? Never mind the brutal tactics of the NYPD or its surrogate police departments across the country. Or the relentless media machine led by none other than Rupert MURDERdoch lambasting the movement everyday, calling for pansy third-term Mayor Bloomberg to step in and shut down the encampment at Zuccotti park. Or the skels, drug addicts, rapists, and general provocateurs sent in by the police to divide and conquer. Do these signify a uncertain future for the occupy movement, or is the age-old adage certain, that that which does not kill us will only make us stronger? Two months is certainly not enough time to answer that, but rest assured, with the country and world behind what started out as an idea, it surely has gained enough momentum.

Only one thing is missing from this conglomeration of souls geared toward revolution. The clear absence of music from the 99% bursting upon the scene and dominating the airwaves. Have we gone too far as a nation that we can't overturn pop-culture and its accompanying Fashion Industrial Complex? That popular music must only be arbitrated by the judges of American Idol in order to gain mass appeal? Or do we have to wait four or five years for the 90's revival to take place in the club scene? No one alive during the 60s can forget how music shaped the counterculture in relation to the politics and everything else around them. Without a resultant musical phenomenon, OCCUPY is beyond stale. Its ill-fated. In order to create a successful movement, musically speaking, we're going to have to go far beyond a drum circle and a few random hippies strumming a guitar. We need a musical statement. One that flies in the face of Lady Gaga. One where people tune in and make the phenomenon mainstream. Or leave the occupation and go back home. Its your choice.

O Counter-culture, Where Art Thou?

With the 20th anniversary of Nirvana's Nevermind, writers and social critics are clamoring to pen articles of relevance to grunge/counterculture history. The August 2011 issue of SPIN Magazine includes the best and brightest of alternative rock relating their tales of what the album meant to them back in 1991. So naturally, I thought I might jump on the bandwagon.

In 1991 rock was virtually nonexistent and inaccessible to the public. It was the unofficial death of Heavy Metal and the advent of Pop garbage such as Paula Abdul, MC Hammer and Vanilla Ice. I was ten years old and going through my Vanilla Ice phase. The only radio station that mattered to me was Z-100, which was only concerned with top 40 hits. Needless to say, alternative rock had scarce outlets to promote its new acts, with New York being the Pop/dance music capital of the world. I didn't have an inkling of knowledge about Nirvana until early 1992, when a Nevermind poster caught my eye with its infamous naked infant submerged in a pool swimming after a dollar bill. Even still I didn't buy Nevermind as I was a jewboy interested in rap music. Until 1995, when I got sick of the hip-hop world and simultaneously bought Nevermind and In Utero as I was well into my teens and picked up an electric guitar for the first time. Even after Kurt's demise, it opened up my mind to the countercultural aspect of life crucial to my development as an activist and as a human being.

Even now in 2011, I still cling to 90's era politics, music and social commentary for a glimmer of hope that even during a time where music and pop-culture have been obscured by pro-aristocracy, pro-Fashion Industrial Complex in-your-face sloganeering, there are still buds and blossoms of counterculture activity that are still in the birthing stage. It seemed impossible in 1991, during papa Bush's administration when the majority of Americans were rooting for our troops to get Saddam Hussein out of Kuwait. And it seems impossible now, with two wars raging in the middle east and a third one added to the list in Libya by our wonderful Democrat president, all the while with the majority of our country being complacent. Yet there is always an underground culture yearning to burst out into the mainstream and topple the topless Lady Gaga. Only question is, where do we look for such a movement?

Forget the hipsters and their mecca, Williamsburg. Some arrogantly boast and confirm that the hipsters are the new Hippies. And some claim that hipsterdom is a hotbed of radical activity itching towards a modern day revolution. These arbiters of White Upper-Middle Class TRASH could not be any more wrong. Find me one hipster who does not fawn over Barack Obama's pseudo-intelligence, and I'll sell you the Empire State Building. And give me one indie rock band that doesn't find itself in complete adoration of societal abominations. They are a far cry from hippies, and they are even more far removed from the grunge era. How could you possibly build a countercultural movement on drowsy, Thorazine laden bands such as Deathcab for Cutie and My Morning Jacket? I once encountered a hipster so obsessed with his self-important image that he considered wearing an Operation Desert Storm t-shirt an expression of hipster irony. I parody these cretins in my idea for a faux-indie rock group called Deafening Aesthetic. Trying to fit in tight jeans is easier than trying to fit in in hipster circles.

One day, this mess will clear itself up. And rest assured, one day, hopefully soon, the countercultural sun will shine with brand new ideas on how to deconstruct society. Until that happens, I'll be humming along with The Strokes, asking the question "Is This It?" TO THE BATCAVE, ROBIN!