Information service furnished by The Underground National Archives
Cultural Studies Department, with other excerpts provided by the
Appalachian Institute for Advanced Ignorance

Oak Ridge, Tennessee.

The towering radiation experiment that went fowl, "Chick FilX-Ray" formerly reported by Oak Ridge Scientists to have been stolen by a subversive cult, is now confirmed to have escaped into the backwoods of the K-12 reservation. State and Federal authorities searched the city limits of Oak Ridge for several days for the unbelievable ten foot tall rooster with no results. The experiment went bizarre when a researcher fed a baseline test rooster an unauthorized dose of nickel and beryllium contaminated boron hydrofloride and water. A boron and ionized water composition is found in all off-the-shelf U-240 Rooster Ramper only far less a massive dosage. Martin Merrywater President Harvey Farquare told reporters, "This is one of those things the media has blown completely out of proportion. Every time your hear the story the chicken gets taller and taller, well the truth is - Chick FilX-Ray is only nine and a half feet tall!" Dr. Dan Van Dew told federal investigators at an interview Friday "It was kinda like having like a big chicken can opener start up on it's own, tear hell out of everything and then run off," recalling how the barn yard freak pecked its way out of an aluminum enclosure and drank a reactor dry. The Hollifield-Styvison Hyperflex Reactor Unit 9 Chief Operator Charles Dale Teasley said at an interview with the Watchrat Friday, "We thought it was kind of funny - the reactor core sitting there smoking. Then, somebody hollered 'Where'd the coolant go?' And a fellow said "Seen that big chicken getting a drink in there a minute ago." I said you fucking flying squirrel YOU, you better catch him before he takes a leak!" As far as the public taking precautions out of the ordinary, Detective Dick Barheel of the QRQP said Friday "It's best to stay indoors till the damn thing blows over, Ray could be dangerous. He's got one hell of a pecker on him." And considering the estimated 545 gallons of class A contaminate he supped up, he is his own walking BBQ about now.

* Don't drink any water out of mud puddles
* Don't stand near any chicken over 5 feet tall
* Dont but any cheap chicken until further notice.

A 1-800 number will soon be established for information and counseling for victims of bantum trauma.



A popular Pigeon Fiord attraction Dollyweed will host an acid rock blowout with headliner rock groups such as Eric Clapton, Pink Floyd, Bushe, and the Hoo. "Its a get together to kinda show that hillmen can be a little bit cool too," says Randy Noggewls a debris salesman employed at the park. Park Music Promoter Sandra Weally said: "We're agona have a good ole time country jam with stars from Pink Roy and Guns and Roses too and we're atrying to get aholt of that Jimmy Hendrix and see ifin we caint get his ass up here too!" Grandpa Jones said it "all sounds like a bunch of pig squat" but would give him a "good excuse to drop." Eddie Rarebit said he was ashamed to show his face around some of these big name rock stars cause they dont make as much money as I do," but then added he might "could come up and wiggle my butt for a couple of hours." LooLoo the corpulent camera stuffer will receive a work release for the show as she is still serving time in the penitentiary on the weekends for a pound of marijuana she bought off a Nashville narc in 1970. Eric Clapton who recently completed a tour with the Rolling Stones says he "cant wait to get to Gatlinhole for the show," Clapton jokes. "I've always wanted to blow some snow with ole Hanke Snow." Says the wistful Axal Rose of "Guns and Roses." Roy Clarke who had agreed on the performance earlier, had to cancel because HeeHop fans rioted for three days the last time he left Nashville for a weekend. Roy did send his blessings and an ounce of uncut smoke for the stage. Dolly is "getting excited" she says. The event was cancelled last year when all the rock stars were thrown in jail by Pigeon Fiord Police before the first string was plucked. "Its OK this year though, I've asked them all to get haircuts and dress like they're going to sunday school." Says Dolly. Tickets are on sale now at park concessionaires.



Another entertainment establishment has been charged with drinking and dancing on the premises. Mabol's Tennessee Tavern was served a warrant by city police early today in violation of the cities drinking and dancing statute. Since the election of Major Victor Elshahad Ash©Hede, drinking and dancing is strictly forbidden in the eastern city. Detective Luther Swumpback mumbled to reporters "if your gona drink, drink, if you aint gona drink dont drink but if your gona dance, dance, if you aint gona dance dont dance." We are just trying to keep people from hurting they-sevs. We've had some of these drunks roll out of here like bolling balls and off under trucks wheels, and worse, make revolting fools of they-selfs." Recently, passersby complained of sickening music droning from the club and could see the combination drinker-dancers swarming around mindlessly inside the tavern through the barf stained windows. "It looked like one hell of a stinking wad of googoo eyed hillmen and women just shufflin around in the smoke and howling, I aint got nothing against them personaly now... but hell it's the LAW!" said Juanita Goins, a mop haired-bazooka titted seventh-eleven clerk on her way home late one night. This seems to be an increasing problem for city police. The public has been duley warned and undercover agents are being placed at several locations throughout the district. Detective Swumpback warns "if your gona drink, dont dance, if your gona dance, dont drink and ifin ye'll cost ye."


With Reverend Lucifa Silas Dobson 14 August, 1997

As the state's case against an area minister is mounting, The Watchrat has acquired exclusive interview with Reverend Lucifa Silas Dobson, the South Knoxville Baptist preacher accused of sexual misconduct with minors at his Summer Youth Disciple Camp. Other accusations against the minister include the propagating of racial epithets to children, and unauthorized punishments. The reverend arrived early at the interview accompanied by a fifteen year old boy named Todd whom the reverend said he was trying to "hep out." Dobson was dressed in black slacks and microsoft suspenders and a wrinkled white shirt with a yellow stained collar and bolo tie. He seemed calm but determined to have his say.

WATCHRAT: "Thanks for coming Reverend Dobson. Tell us a little about Your Disciple Youth Camp."

REV DOBSON: "Uh, Ok... it's uh, located a half hour from Knoxville in beautiful Hind End Cove about a mile from the dam. And what a setting for training the young in how to go about serving a god of love and truth! We have a really great facility for a six week summer program... it's not vacation bible school, for alot of em it's a bible boot camp is what I call it, with lots and lots of activities for the youngsters."

WATCHRAT: " What sort of activities?"

REV DOBSON: "Why, we have good character building games like The Elephant Walk, Hide the Weenie, then thars dinner on the ground and we might play Where's Woodie? It's one big happy family thar at the camp. Let em go in swimmin, They just have a great time up thar that's all."

TODD: [with a hoarse and cracking voice] "Sometimes they let us go in skinny dippin’ - sez it'll free ye of bondage like when the jews went in neckit after crucifing the party of the red sea YOU KNOW?" [Todd farted, shifted in his chair, embarrassed, figits, fights for composure. Reverend Dobson stared a hard eye at him..]

WATCHRAT: "Did he mean to say skinny dipping Reverend? The children?"

REV DOBSON: "Oh yeah.. uh... not much... I just let em run down there sometimes in the evening, with the counselors. I 'm up thar on the porch a-watching...lifeguard...a-watching them little bouncing bottoms with my binoculars. he he... Uh, Oh Yeah, uh, Also, we got darts, bows & arrows, checkers, letem make plaster-paris molds of thangs, there's frog gigging, fishing, you ought to hear em squeal when they catch one of those wrinkle neck trouts!"

WATCHRAT: "What other kinds of things do you have for your students?"

REV DOBSON: "Oh lordy all kinds of things, he he."

WATCHRAT: 'Like what?"

REV DOBSON: "Just all kinds of...stuff."

WATCHRAT: "For instance, give us an example."

REV DOBSON: "Well uh, Friday nights we make somhores and tell ghost stories - goodens like the One Eyed Snake, or the Little Bugger Man (he slaps Todd on the knee and rubs his hand around, Todd grimaces). And, uh, religious activities..."

WATCHRAT: "What sort of religious activities are there?"

REV DOBSON: "Why, we lead em in hymnals like The Ram and the Lamb, Down in the Moist Valley of Darkness, and thu Oh How Thyne Sin Burns. They go to prayer meetings three times a day. Uh, twice on Sundays he he he. We gather for Vespers at the Rectaltry. Then feeling the spirit, I may give one of my famous sermons like Big Peter and the Gate to Heaven. It's all within the covenant and under the eyes of the lord. You know."

WATCHRAT: "Has a background investigation been done on your staff."

REV DOBSON: "Nobody's has touched my staff! My staff is hard to beat. Thars Melvin, Blackie, Shannon, Felatia, and Dickie. These folks will really bend over for ye. Saturdays we have council coffee wher they bring in the donuts - the sweet sixteens. Them sweet fourteens is what I like, that's how ye keep ye eye on the hole and not on the donut. hu hu"

WATCHRAT: "You of course know your past conduct is under legal scrutiny, the accusations of your alleged sex offenses, uthe nauthorized physical punishments, and the spreading of racial epithets."

REV DOBSON: "I had a feeling you'd bring that up."

WATCHRAT: "First, what is the camp policy on discipline?"

REV DOBSON: "Im glad you asked that sir. As one of god's sheppard's I caint brook no misbehavior See, you got to shape a tree while its young so that it may grow straight and tall into a mighty oak. However, mr. uh... uh.. yeah... uh... iffin someone uses a dirty mouth, I give em the rod yes. It sets an example for the children when they see one of their puurs red faced and rubbing their fanny's. You see sweetness caint come from the same fountain as bitterness, I know I tried em all... uh, methods of correction that is."

WATCHRAT: "Do you think all that has happened to you will give your church a black eye?"

REV DOBSON: "No... uh, NO... it wont give the church a black eye, it wont give the church a black eye a'tall, church ain't got no eyes. Man has eyes, god has eyes... only man can git a black eye, god caint git no black eye. When it comes to black eyes man can, church and god caint. I ain't gona git no black eye off of it no. To git a black eye you got to do something to somebody that's wrong or whur some ones actions ain't puur you know...unto thee. You get what you sow, and so shall ye reap you see... No, I ain't never got no black eye, yeller eye, red eye, or blue eye, all I gots brown eyes." (chuckles)

WATCHRAT: "By that answer you are saying that the accusations against you are false? In that you haven't misbehaved in a sexual manner with children of your bible camp?"

REV DOBSON: "You see, its got to whur you caint touch em or say nothing to em without somebody hollering. These parents today don't wont to pay nothing to send children to vacation bible school so they look for a way to git me fired so they can send em to a cheap school like catholic or Nazi."

WATCHRAT: Do you think there is a conspiracy against you Reverend Dobson?"

REV DOBSON: "Well... Uh, look how they persecuted Christ? And for what? His only crime was the love of man! Here was god's only begotten son sent to Earth to teach holy ways, what did they do to him? He was CURSED and STONED, They called him a son-of-a-B! They SMOTE HIM WITH THEIR HANDS! Luke: 4:42, uh... Said that uh..."He who is without sin be the first one to casteth thyne stone. That whuther beggar, banker, or hooker be, lie down with thy sins before me and uh..."

WATCHRAT: "Excuse me reverend I'm not a preacher like yourself but I don't think that particular passage is in the Chapter of Luke."

REV DOBSON: "Seems a man of god caint go no whur without being denegrated by the ungodly- mutilating MEDIA! [his hands flailing high into the air] What this world needs is a little less Simpsons and a lot more SERMONS! [He jumps up with a karate stance, kicks, spins about] "Get thy behind of me thy unholy Satan," [ his eyes roll back in his head like a shark as he shakes about and blubbers vehemently] "I serve only the true and living lord. Uh.. Chapter..." (The interviewer interrupts firmly).

WATCHRAT: "So you never had sex with any of the youths at your summer camp?"

REV DOBSON: "Jumpin Jehovah you caint call it that! (stammering around the room, shaking hands upward with head bobbing) It just a bunch of SUNDAY SAINTS trying to make a MOUNTAIN OUT OF A CORNHOLE!"

WATCHRAT: "Well a child of fifteen is going to testify at your trial that you did commit a sex act with him."

REV DOBSON: "That's that little lyin' Andy Farlow!"

WATCHRAT: "Who is Andy Farlow?"

REV DOBSON: "He was the one did it to me! All I did was lay thar! I don't do nothing dirty. (hollering and stammering around the room with limbs jerking like a errant robot, Todd looking down) "I'm a clean preacher and I only do clean things cause cleanliness is next to godliness and I serve only the true and living lord, and I only like clean young boys. If I was gona do something it wouldn't be to no liar Andy Farlow!"


REV DOBSON: "Cause his got hare on it that's why! I don't touch em when they got nasty hair on em. YOU SEE I DON'T take their pants down and call em nasty names and put my mouth on their little thangs like people say, I just don't do em like that! Look how people lied about Jim Baker and said he stole their money. Peoples got to whur they believe the devil more than they do god. It was the devil put that rubber snake up little Jessica's thang I didn't!"

WATCHRAT: "What rubber snake?"

The reverend continued to rant incoherently for several more revealing minutes, at some instances, apparently "speaking in tongues," judging by the many butchered consonants he bellowed as he twirled uncontrollably. Add that to the amount of aerosol slobber and it's profound conical projection. Also our staff was struck down with a heavy viceroy, coal soot, and bacon grease aroma in the hollow rec room as he performed more wild arm swinging incantations. At any rate, the content was far too graphic and repulsive for even this stinking publication to print. Representatives from the Department of Human Services were on hand to take custody of Todd, whom it was discovered is a runaway from a Florida foster home. Reverend Dobson was released on his own recognizance. The Summer Youth Disciple Camp will continue to operate this summer despite court orders, civil suits, and opposition from community action groups. For information write: The Tennessee Bureau of Investigation, your local Department of Human Services, or Reverend Dobson, 666 Chicken Hawk Lane, South Knoxville, Tennessee 37919. We at The WatchRat support Reverend Dobson, whom we feel has been genuinely wronged in his treatment by the Knoxville community. We will support him and his beleaguered bible camp throughout the upcoming trial.



Celebrations are springing up across that state as the news was announced nationally. East Tennessee is heralded as the unanimous winner of the Most County Sheriffs In The Slammer Than Any Other State In The Union Contest. However, this news is not really a surprise for East Tennesseans, because we have seen it for years. Now we have county law enforcement executives going to the can with bigger and better federal charges than ever before, and at an ever increasing rate - up to one a week. On the federal investigator competition New Jersey again won, (NewYork being the "off-the-record" uncontested winner in all categories in the Who Has The Balls To Say It In Public Contest.) An un-named federal official in Washington quipped: "East Tennessee sheriff's candidates should be sentenced to a mandatory five years just for running for Sheriff." Then, a smart mouthed New York Times Journalist tried unsuccessfully to give East Tennessee a putdown by accusing us of being a "vast collection of primitives who will gorge on the deceit of any dishonorable dunce who will stand up and wear a badge." The Watchrat says PooPoo on you! WE WON! GO BIG ORANGE TOO!



Knoxville has always been a sleepy southern town, but it didn't come as an accident. City officials over the past 50 years have deliberately put the quietus on ole Knoxpatch and for good reason. Local food chain magnates/city government heads were certainly going to do without the competition of major franchises. "The good life we lead here is directly attributable to the wretched pay scale, no sense inviting unions." Says the then major. Local city official Wite Kessler says "Uh, We caint...dont wont...tu meny peoples got thar fingers in the pie as it is now...Uh, we caint have no smart elecks and Uh, we certainly caint all be kings...Uh."Others have tried in the past like the watermelon salesman who fiercely lobbied in the late 1920s to bring the interstate 75 connection here in hopes that traffic would stop and shop at his watermelon stands. This intersection created a severe traffic problem for Knoxville and the state highway system in the 1970s, that had to be corrected with millions of dollars of federal money. A subject of great embarrassment for Knoxville when then transportation secretary Warren Kyle Turdger told congress: "Please see that the hicks down there do not play around with theroads any more!" Look at Jake and all he tried to do, but look where it got him - in jail that's where! A Wall Street tycoon howled "Well, that's what happens when a bunch of hillbillies get hold of some damn money, Next time they want to through a carnival, come on up to the New York State Fair, now that's a fair!" he said. Let this be a lesson to any young upstarts who think they can whippersnap this city government and try to change Knoxville and its 170 years unmarked by progress. Dont be a source of embarassment to your community. Remember, you cant fight city hall nor tell them what to do, especially when you are a bottom forget it.



Residents of West Knoxville where shocked by dialouge that transpired over a weekend BBQ. Dirl Nailor was describing having to get a "72 year-old out of lay's stockyard one morning at four OCLOCK! What was he doing? "Making love to them PIIIIGGGs!!!! When the shock and mass hysteria wore off of the unsuspecting audience, he then took it to a new height by remarking: "Hey, listen and he was COVERED in PIG SHIT!" (a remark that killed again notably by the physical reaction of the crowd - they dove and spun) He continued "We took him to the emergency room where he’d been cut up and bit, and his daughter came by to pick him up. I was going to tell her he was just rustling stock but that would hep him so I didnt mince words. I just walked out into the emergency room and said Mamm... your Daddy had sex with a PIGG!" His description of a Cock County Beast Whorehouse had grown men collapsing around the pool and in the grass quaking with laughter from the following comment: "That barn had more meat going into it than coming out..." He then sequeged into instructions on how to fuck a chicken. The women had long dissapeared as the dudes stood around with quarts of beer marveling at this gentleman's crude country charm. "It’s what them boys up par on the ridge used to do!" He said. "That's their Friday night you see! They couldnt wait to get off work, get a twelve pack of stovepipes, get out-up par, off-on the front porch in a rocking chair, to watch that sun go down and let that head bob. Course they both had hens on their laps…they only squawk for a minute until ye ring their necks and catch their dying quiver... that's why they are called setting hens you know?!..." Later, one fellow spoke ardently about going to the state's legislature regarding legalization of prostitution, another said he thought someone ought to "get Nailor a spot on Conann!" Stay tuned. (Reprinted with permission: Appalachian Institute of Advanced Ignorance, Department of Cultural Studies)



For years southerners have joked about the difference between a yankee and a damn yankee. The joke goes: A yankee is someone who goes south for a vacation, but a damn yankee is one who goes south and stays. The joke however, is no longer funnyas thousands of oppo-dixonites are moving here in droves to take advantage of our great weather, paltry living expenses, and our daughters. This can account for who is buying all these upper range homes that bespeckle our once scenic countryside. The upper continental insurgens are to blame for putting most of our local industry out of business. Our depression is a bonanza for the yanks whose dollars stretches way far into the south. But being a determined breed, we are still able to make gracious livings mowing each others lawns and selling each other hamburgers. We are finding fasionable foreign automobiles crowding out the southern iconoclast institution of a filthy tail pipe dragging sedan with busted headlights. Other sideline repercussions of the influx are the degradation of our culture and depletion of the appalachian accent. New York Pizza heaped with grizzly hunks of italian sausage has taken over in areas where bean and cornpone establishments once flourished. The East Tennessee traditional dress of pointed black hat, corncob pipe, and plaid shirt is slowly being replaced by a rolled toboggan, and tank top shirt with slogans like "Rocco's Gym, Home of the Mighty." Even more disgraceful is the colloquialism of "yall" has surrendered to a verbal mutation of "yall guys." An emergency meeting of the Sons of the South (S.O.S.) will be held to discuss possible alternatives to the imminent yankee takeover.



Returning from romantic San Fransisco was our terminal vacationeer Randy Dale Tucker with travel tips for those westward wanderers without wampum. He shares his experiences earning quick cash in the Golden Gate city the old fashion way... the REAL old fashion way, as in the first occupation. You know.. THAT line of work....Cept, over in the subdivision of Sodom and Gommora. He earns his vacation cash on the go as he tells us: "This one dude paid me fifteen dollars to piss on him; I pissed all over that son-of-a-bitch! Then, this other sick mother fucker wanted me to whop the peter to him. Boy you talk about somebody SQUAWLLIN!" "I aint no fag now..." Our guide reminds us. A Berkeley professor wanted him to "take a dive." Randy Dale told him "Smoking that there broken bone is one mighty tall order you screwed up old fag fart, why dont you get down and put a lip lock on the nozzel end of this here fuck stick?! He did, and it all paid the same!" Randy Dale said with a smile. That kind of payday can mean a great night copping in China Town or the Haight. Other suggestions: Get twirped on a jug of fine ass california wine with a side order of smoeke with the roughfees on Telegraph Hill, or maybe get fucked on psychodelics. If thats not your game, experience the classic west coast rush, mainlining good Frisco street Horse. "Butt fuckin' mother fuckers is a way out out of the daily grind" says our guide. His previous job was shooting the locks off pay phones with a twelve gauge and an old blanket to "deaden the noise~boize." In the olden days he preferred the foxes he says, skipping school, working that thang - with a number 10 can of green peas. Also, he earned high marks from pool hall revelers by tipping his hat to the ladys with a polite grin and question "Eat cha box Mamm? or belting out 'why don't we do it in the road!" A feisty lady passer by once confronted him with a demand for apology from "YOU BOY!" He remarked: I've been around the world nineteen times, drank every kind of liquor and every kind of wine, had every kind of woman in every kind of port, got enough hair on my ass to weave an Egyptian rug and you call me boy! You must have said ROY! His story ringing with poignance, and spoken like a true traveler, right before he puked his guts out in the bushes of the Ashbury Cemetery. Yes, that historic location where Jim Morrison used to blow chunks as well. We hope you find your California dream, and it's as beautiful and exciting a dream as was our guides'. That is...without getting busted; He's doing 11/29 in Sacramento for past warrants. As John Steinbeck once said; "San Francisco is a pair of golden hand cuffs with a lost key." So it seems, but we'll update that quote for the nineties: "Keep away from the yellow acid."

Next Month LETS GO Turkey!


Federal agents in cooperation with local law enforcement officials closed an investigation today that spanned nearly twenty years. Several men were questioned on suspicion of operating a stolen car ring at Worst Town Mill parking lot. Hundreds of automobiles have disappeared from the parking lot over the past two decades. Today Knoxville police discovered a sign owned by a local used car lot hanging over the west side of their premises near West Town Mill parking lot. Owners of Classy Cars Used Cars say they didn't realize their sign was at "such an angle to mis-lead customers" into thinking that cars parked in the Whizz Town Mill were for sale by Classy Cars. "I did thank it was kinda funny the customer always wonted a car over there." said Denny Ray Henshaw a sales employee. "but see I used to make keys... and uh it wernt no problem to slim jim a door specially when the customer was in a hurry or had caish, you know..." Multi-millionaire Barry E. Hoovgroten owner of scores of used car lots (near malls), said he was sorry this happened and it wouldn't happen again. Federal Magistrate Mr. Lacky Wenworthy said "I've never met a nicer millionaire than Mr. Hoovgroten." The misunderstanding was settled out of court.

Next Month: More crazy rap from real life psychos! Mizz Pepper, More Clips from Beula, and christmas stories from the Oil Field Comic General Homer. Views expressed aren't necessarily that of UNA.