The INVISIBLE GUY a real soundtrack for an imaginary spy film   Episode Forty-Five - MOJO SURFS THE VOODOO DOWN   Copyright © 2002 - 2005 Arthur Jarvinen

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Scene: 

Mojo Stang supports a small seaside village on the mainland whose inhabitants operate the ferry service to The Inevitably Expoloding Island - home of the Diabolical Factory and Outlet Store - and also keep an eye on things just in case anyone should come around and start asking questions, or take too great an interest in the island's non-commercial facilities.

None of the villagers have actually seen Stang in the flesh, but as they are always well-provided for without doing much that one can really call work - consequently tending to spend much of their time surfing - Stang has come to take on the stature of a kind of demi-god, whom the villagers revere as their protector and provider. In fact, the village's frequent communal dining, drinking, and dancing celebrations have developed into a quasi-religious practice, with Mojo Stang as its figure of adoration.

One of the Diabolical Factory's most lucrative product lines happens to be exact replicas of vintage guitars, passed off as genuine and sold at an enromous profit on e-bay. They come with complete documentation proving they have had only one owner and were never taken out of the case, even to look at, the serial numbers are authentic, and a select few of them are given an implausibly ugly finish making it viable to describe them as "rare" and jack up the price even more. And of course, all the materials are subtly and skillfully "aged" appropriately. They have it down to a science, and no one ever suspects for a moment that what they have isn't really Jimi's Strat. What's more, the Factory doesn't even bother to make them sound any good, because it just doesn't matter.

Anyway, given the abundance of guitars on site, and many of the Island's inhabitants being competent surfers, a number of them have managed, like The Invisible Guy, to surf - or at least boogie-board - safely to shore.

The villagers have observed this, and one of the elders has brought up the fact that Mojo Stang was reputed to be, in the days of his youth, a highly competitive surfer. In fact, he even participated in the Eddie once, although, not having been officially invited to attend could not possibly have placed, but no matter.

It is thus that we find the villagers chanting, dancing, and drumming frenetically, invoking the name of the Revered One in hopes of working some magic that will bring him to them, safely, on the waves.

Claude, not desirous of a beverage just now, thank you, but having recently read a review of The Drink Nightclub - purportedly the night spot to hit when in Surfer's Paradise - decides to check out their web site, only to discover that they don't really have one yet. How lame is that?