By Hillel Aron
By Joseph Tsidulko
By Patrick Range McDonald
By David Futch
By Hillel Aron
By Dennis Romero
By Jill Stewart
By Dennis Romero
Predictions Gone Wild
I DON'T KNOW ABOUT ANYONE ELSE, BUT I don't feel much like George Jetson. When L.A. Weekly's fifth issue appeared, on January 5, 1979, punk rock was kicking disco in the nuts, Michael Jackson was still black and had a nose, the Beatles, while no longer Beatles, were still alive, and our cover story was "L.A. in 2002: Speculations on the Future." While some of the predictions about things and people of the far-off future (that would be us) were just plain goofy — I haven't noticed any flying cars, networks of moving sidewalks or robot maids that can play basketball with the kids — a handful of the Weekly's predictions weren't too far off the mark:
1. Sony will become king of the world, almost. (Who is this Sony guy, anyway?)
2. "More than 1,500 people will live and work on four orbiting satellites," as long as there's also a Starbucks, a Burger World and a Bally's.
3. "Psychics will prove accurate at predicting earthquakes, and police departments will employ [Dionne Warwick and Miss Cleo] to help catch fugitives."
4. Tattoos become as popular as socks.
5. "Beta-Mix" — TiVO-type shit.
6. "Cable Phreaks" — telecom hackers.
7. Cable television for the masses; home theater for the rich mass, with "records . . . to be plugged into your TV." (Whoa!)
8. Virtual rides like the ones in Las Vegas and Universal CityWalk; elaborate computer games in the home.
9. Laptop computers. (But not ones that fry your crotch.)
Read MORE Predictions from the fifth issue of the L.A. Weekly - an online exclusive!
That Good Old Rock & Roll: 66 Actual Band Names Anal Blast Anal Cunt Angel Corpse Anybody Killa Atrocity Autopsy Autopsy Torment Bleeding Display Blood Coven Bloodflowerz Bloodgasm Bloodvomit Brutal Mastication Butchery Cadaver Inc. Cadaverous Candy Striper Death Orgy Cannibal Corpse Carcass Carnage Cattle Decapitation Cephalic Carnage Corpsevomit Cradle of Filth Dead Jesus Decapitated Decayed Remains Death Dismembered Fetus Dying Fetus Entombed Exhumed Exposing Innards Flesh Grinder Gorehammer Gorgasm Grave Digger Impaled Impaled Nazarene Infest and Corrupt Intestine Lividity Malignancy Massacre Meatshits Mortician Napalm Death Postmortem Putrilege Pungent Stench Regurgitation Rotting Christ Sadistic Intent Satanic Slaughter Satanic Surfers Skinless Slaughter of Souls Slaytanic Splattered Cadaver Tears of Decay Victims of Internal Decay Viral Load Virus Visceral Bleeding Vivisect Vomit Remnants
9 Reasons To Ditch a Fuckin’ Momo
In Casino, Sam "Ace" Rothstein (Robert De Niro’s character — based on the legendary Stardust boss, Lefty Rosenthal) came up with the absolute lowest name to call anyone who comes off as a rube in Las Vegas. "Don’t be a fuckin’ momo," says De Niro with a scowl. Even one momo at your 21 table can ruin the game for everyone, so before you head for Vegas on your next blackjack run, memorize this guide:
If someone sitting next to you asks for "some red chips," it’s time to get up from the table. Red ($5) chips are "nickels," and green ($25) chips are "quarters." (The black $100 chips are simply called "blacks," but don’t worry about them — you won’t get any.)
If someone sitting next to you thinks a shoe is only something on your foot, or if they’ve figured they can drink enough free Jack or Jim to make up for the stack of nickel chips they’re mindlessly blowing through, or if they have to use their fingers and move their lips to figure out how much 5 and 7 add up to, it’s time to get up from the table.
If someone sitting next to you splits face cards or 10s, or splits sixes, sevens or nines against any dealer’s up-card of a higher value, or doesn’t split 8’s against almost anything, or they tell you they learned any of this playing on the riverboats in Dubuque, it’s time to get up from the table.
If someone sitting next to you tries to double down on ace-9 (a 10 or a soft 20), or if he keeps looking at his watch worried he’s going to miss the turn-around bus back home, or if he supplements his bet with a promotional "free-2-for-1-bet" coupon, it’s time to get up from the table and run screaming from the casino.
If someone sitting next to you hits his 13, 14, 15 or 16 when the dealer is showing a 4, 5 or 6, or refuses to hit a 16 when the dealer is showing a 7, 8, 9, 10 or ace, or tells you that he knows what the dealer’s hole card is so it’s okay to break strategy, it’s time to get up from the table.
If someone sitting next to you keeps counting his miserable little stack of chips after each hand, or doesn’t know to increase the bet 50 percent after each winning hand, it’s time to get up from the table.
If someone sitting next to you thinks there’s no difference between playing multideck, single-deck, or with perpetual automatic-shuffle machines, it’s definitely time to get up from the table.