We’ve been hearing from our friends that clear instruction is needed. So we have taken it upon ourselves to provide some simple steps to achieve success. It is best to follow these as closely to the letter as one can as skipping one or two of these or being lazy about the details often results in that queasy, unfinished feeling – and we certainly don’t want any of that.
Thank you for watching our Instructions For Success and if there are any questions, please let us know.
Ukulele master, Stretchlinks member and cultural philosopher Heinous Rynz can often be found sipping ice tea from a large brandy snifter, strumming his uke and waxing poetic about the evolution of society and the deeper meanings of social media.
“My humble desire is to share wisdom with those unfortunate American’s who may lack a certain historical perspective. Some of it comes from an iron deficiency while others suffer from a lack of sleep or overexposure to household cleaners. Hell, I’ve heard even eating too much cinnamon can make you ignorant to history. But what all American’s can get excited about is the marvel of new media and particularly the societal profundity of YouTube.”
Yes, Heinous did say “profundity” in a sentence, even modifying it with the heady term, ”societal” which by some standards makes him an elitist while in other circles it simply means he likes the sound of the word. According to long time friend and Stretchlinks partner Uncle Wonkles, Heinous will often repeat long, multi-syllable words aloud late into the night simply to experience their “musicality”.
“When we’re on the road I honestly don’t sleep most nights. Heinous has this way of focusing on certain vowel sounds and then just pummeling them over and over through the night. I’m usually bringing in the morning donuts by the time he finishes his “verbal calisthenics” as he likes to call em.”
Despite his admirable infatuation with words, what Heinous seems to most genuinly admire is the cultural revolution, the sheer science fiction of the YouTube phenomenon.
“You have this place you can go that is essentially the closest thing to a true Time Machine that man has ever created.” Heinous explains.
The amiable philosopher sets down his tea and scoots forward with an earnest smile.
“Imagine being transported to your parents’ home TV circa 1974. The color sucks, reception is fuzzy, you place your hand to the screen and get a satisfying static charge. You’re 11 years old again and you’re obsessing about a TV commercial, waiting desperately with a mix of fear and excitement for that one: 60 seconds of joy to share it’s glorious message of mirth and material satisfaction. And when it arrives, when is “airs”, it makes you whole, confirms that you are indeed an American Boy.
BAM!
Now it’s 34 years later and suddenly, there it is on YouTube, that same :60 seconds with its titillating shrill music and that eerie smiling actor boy who you had long ago pushed from your prepubescent memory. The history, the sounds, the smell, the happy faces, your childhood in all its facets descends on you like a synaptic freight train and you relive your youth in a way you never thought possible. But it’s not just advertising, it’s movies, songs, iconic events long since forgotten until the simple push of a button transports you through TIME.”
Heinous leans back breathless, then with an enormous sigh, drains the last of his tea.
“I don’t think it’s supposed to happen this way but our giddiness is beginning to hurt.” Those are the words of Uncle Wonkles, guitar player and singer of the comedy music duo, The Stretchlinks. He’s referring to a rare level of joy that when prolonged can cause physical pain.
“I experienced it too.” Recounts legendary ukulele player and renowned Stretchlinks member, Heinous Rynz. “Mostly on the backs of my palms.” The amiable Heinous leans back cradling his vintage uke and continues with a genuine amazement.
“It began a few months ago when we learned that our old pal Pete Miller might have access to a form of futuristic technology. In a manner that neither Wonkles or I even try to understand, various gurgling, clanking noises and bits of static from the Stretchlinks’ past have somehow been cobbled together with a kind of bleeding edge digital super glue to regenerate the sounds Wonkles and I made years ago.”
Wonkles interrupts his pal, grinning widely with enthusiasm. “It’s like someone was in the room with us and made a historical record of what we were doing! Kind of like cave drawings or some Neolithic scribbles. When you hear this stuff, it’s as though we transported a random outsider to the basement of our old house in San Francisco years ago and he brought our sounds back to the present day. It’s total science fiction.”
Wonkles pauses with a reverent gaze, reaching for the deeper meanings of this landmark Stretchlinks music release.
“It’s as though someone bottled the sounds that were happening in that room and put them out to sea with a note inside. And that lonely bottle just floated for decades out there in the foam. Finally, some primitive finds it and the note says something like, “Hello to you Mr. or Mrs. Future Person. Inside this bottle are sounds from another time. Share our ancient voices, melodies and mirth with your people and… be bountiful.”
Wonkles takes a deep breath, either holding back a flood of emotion or an enormous belch, then continues.
“I mean you’d want the message to inspire people right?”
Heinous nods vigorously. “This whole thing is experimenting with a new kind of Anthropology, one where ancient, forgotten sounds are heard by the world for the very first time in history. It’s damned exciting.”
Just Happy Inc. will soon be releasing the Stretchlinks singular brand of ukulele and guitar based comedy music in an album entitled, Stretchlinks Hits (the cream of the crop of the very best special stuff).
Uncle Wonkles mumbles in a kind of endearing murmur that often requires a steep lean-in to hear all of what he has to say. Today, the elusive singer and writer of the comedy duo, The Stretchlinks rests casually atop a formidable stack of broken reel to reel tape machines piled in the corner of his Burbank, CA office slurring his way through an elliptical but amusing theory about America’s troubles – and perhaps some of his own.
“America’s Stupid,” he explains. “In the dazed, confused kind of way. Stupefied, you might say. No one can think clearly. Nobody. You don’t have to be blind to see it. We’ve all gotten numb. And you can save the hate mail cuz I’m not saying we’re all a bunch of dopes, that’s another debate entirely. It’s just that we’re caught in a trance, a mindless stare that’s allowing an awful lot of silly things to happen in this country. I’ve seen it in the flesh and it’s not pretty.”
Wonkles first hand experience with Stupid began 16 months ago while hammering nails into an 8-foot 2×4.
“I figured I’d do some hammering. I own a great hammer, loads of nails, that sort of thing. Thing is I realized a bit too late that my hammering might not have a particular purpose.”
Wonkles continues in a low somber tone, his startling blue eyes and perhaps most of the rest of him, fixed on an elusive point in the distance.
“Kind a spooked me really. See most of the time you get out the hammer and nail after a great deal of measuring, designing and consideration. That’s how I’ve always done it. Perhaps you want to build something for your kids or widen a doorway and all that kind of stuff. People get really happy when it’s done right. Wood just comes in real handy for those sorts of things. Instead, my “plan” was to just hammer nails into a piece of wood.”
According to Wonkles the inexplicable hammering went on for most of that afternoon until he had exhausted his entire supply of 3,200 nails and left his palms near bloody with the effort. Once the lumber was saturated with the sharp metal, he carried it to a neighboring office and did his best to gift the ungainly and now dangerous piece.
“I thought it might be of use to someone,” Wonkles continued. “All those nails, right there on a piece of wood. You wouldn’t even have to look for them cuz every nail you owned or might need to own would be right there.”
The reaction from his neighbors was not what he expected. Seven local fire teams responded and to Wonkles’ amazement proceeded to comb the area for flammables, explosives and reports of toxic gasses emanating from The Stretchlinks’ offices.
“I gotta’ say though, these guys wore the greatest gear. Fire retardant, waterproof, rip proof and the stuff smelled great, kind of a fresh peach smell. They had oxygen tanks, CPR gear, GPS, hook and ladder. None of them seemed all that interested in my lumber though. And that’s partly what I’m talking about. All these smart, trained professionals. They just stood around looking dazed, bewildered. And I’ve seen that look before, not just on fireman or paramedics but on the faces of a lot of Americans these days, people looking pretty darn Stoo-pi-fied.”
The Burbank police did confiscate his nail-board. However with only a modest fine for disturbing the peace, Wonkles was able to return to work the following day. Back in his offices the next morning and feeling generally sanguine about the affair, Wonkles had these final thoughts.
“We just gotta’ help each other, come together as good citizens and watch out for the stupid stuff.”
After years of rumor and speculation, ukulele legend Heinous Rynz has broken his mysterious silence and admitted responsibility for the invention of the “Missionary Position”.
If proven true, this stunning announcement, which came through Mr. Rynz associate and fellow musician, Uncle Wonkles, contradicts the established historical record.
Most historians subscribe to the notion that The Missionary Position or “Man On Top” position for the business of propagating the species was first used by primitive peoples or even apes. Mr. Rynz claims he can produce explosive evidence and first hand accounts proving his sole responsibility for the Missionary Position’s origin.
“That 13th century Dominican priest guy, Thomas Aquinas had nothing to do with it” scoffs Rynz .“It was that quack Kinsey who stole my ideas and blabbed them all over. The bonehead mucked things up for me and never once mentioned my name”.
According to Rynz’s own account, in the late 1960’s he was an intimidating and unnaturally mature 7 year old when famed sexual behaviorist, Alfred Kinsey heard the young boy speak at a Hell’s Angels Rally in Cleveland Hts. Ohio.
His friend Wonkles remembers the event. “Even as a kid Heinous had radical views and that place was packed with the perfect audience; hipsters and bikers, anti-war protestors, and he just got up there and wowed em’.”
Wonkles asserts that the published record is dead wrong and that the Press and most serious Academics have overlooked young Heinous’ speeches and writings. “The true story is that Rynz was teasing the Presbyterian proselytizers, making them look silly, it was more of a joke than anything else. And that Kinsey dude made off with the kid’s words. Hell, even at 9 years old I spotted that phony entomologist a mile off.”
Mr. Wonkles recounts the day fondly. “I heard Heinous say it for the first time, the first time ever, loud and clear, “Missionary Position!” I was there with my mom, right on Coventry road. The crowd went nuts! They loved the tiny, uke-toting kid spewing crazy anti-establishment stuff. Man, seems like it was just yesterday”.
In 2009 Mr. Rynz launched a series of legal challenges to correct the record and prove his first use of the term. Armed with the legal services of Elmer, Johnson and Dupree of University Hts. Ohio, Heinous is now filing for a U.S. Trademark. He hopes to secure all rights to the “Missionary Position” term and retroactively collect significant royalties due him and his estate.