If you’re like I was, and you’ve never heard of an MC5-esque black punk band from Detroit called “Death,” A Band Called Death is going to take a long time getting you there. But when it does, hold onto your handkerchiefs because shit’s about to get touching.  In telling the story of a forgotten punk trio with a vision, Drafthouse’s new documentary from Mark Covino and Jeff Howlett bears more than a passing similarity to the 2013 Oscar-winning documentary Searching for Sugar Man. Amazingly, it might be even harder to get through without tearing up, at least for lesser viewers (NICE TRY, PUNKS, THESE EYEBALLS DON’T RUN, OOH RAH!). And while A Band Called Death might suffer a bit for having been pre-empted thematically, Searching for Sugar Man had to massage the truth a bit to spurt that heartwarming ending. They conveniently left out the part where Rodriguez toured Australia with Midnight Oil years after we’re led to believe that he assumed he’d been forgotten. Sorry, bros, that’s cheating. To my knowledge, A Band Called Death doesn’t commit any similar lies by omission, and in any case, the unfairly-forgotten rockstar story it has to tell is even wilder and more emotional. And I mean that in a good way, not in a bipolar actress kind of way.

Raised in Detroit, David, Bobby, and Dannis Hackney are three brothers – by virtue of biology as well as by being three black guys hanging out together in the seventies – who dreamed of playing loud and kicking ass like The Who. They called themselves “Death,” based on a vision David had while staring at the clouds, and in 1974, recorded a demo of fast, hard-driving rock songs that inadvertently stole the balls-out sound of later bands like The Ramones, Bad Brains, the Sex Pistols, et. al. Only no one wanted to buy it at the time, mainly because the band was called “Death.” Which doesn’t seem like that much worse of a name than “The Who” or “The Guess Who,” but whatever. They could’ve just changed the name, but hey, man, you don’t argue with clouds. The demo collected dust in an attic somewhere for a while, while the members of the band gradually gave up and went on their separate ways, playing, at various times, Christian soul music, and cheesy reggae, with songs like “Fire Up the Ganja,” which might be the most generic-sounding reggae track of all time.

And then… And then…

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One of the more memorable subplots of Snatch was Alan Ford’s Brick Top constantly threatening to feed people to his pigs. The reasoning exposited was that hungry pigs will eat anything, including people, with the added benefit of not leaving behind a pesky skeleton like those finnicky-ass piranhas I keep in my bathtub. And if you were wondering whether that plot point was based on truth or urban legend, wonder no longer:

An Oregon man trying to feed his 700-pound hogs was eaten by the animals Thursday, and sheriff’s deputies are trying to determine what led up to his death.
Terry Garner, who lived near the rural town of Riverton in southern Oregon, went to feed the animals on his farm at 7:30 a.m.
When he wasn’t seen for several hours, a family member went to look for him, and found Garner’s dentures on the ground in front of the hog enclosure, which housed several of the animals.
While searching the hog enclosure, the family member found Garner’s body in several pieces, with a majority of it consumed by the hogs, the district attorney said.
Now deputies are investigating how Garner ended up in a position where the hogs were able to eat him.
District Attorney Paul Frasier said there are a number of possible scenarios, including one in which Garner suffered a heart attack. Another possible scenario is that given Garner’s age and health, the hogs were able to knock him down and kill him. Frasier said there have been reports that at least one of the hogs had been aggressive toward Garner in the past. [KPTV]

Yikes. I especially like the part about “reports that at least one of the hogs had been aggressive toward Garner in the past.” So, uh… who was filing these “reports,” and who were they for? Is that a regular thing, aggressive hog reports? “A hog ate Terry? I ain’t surprised, it was probly Linda. Linda and Terry, they ain’t never got along, ever since Linda accused Terry of bogartin’ her slop.”

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We’ve suffered an unusual string of celebrity deaths over the past two weeks, and things were getting pretty depressing. I even tried to convince myself that the aliens that are going to destroy the planet on December 21 were actually taking our best and brightest minds from us to take to the next planet, but then I was like, “WTF ALF? What about me and Kate Upton?” And now, I am sorry to report, it gets so much worse.

Prince Harry, a three-month old pygmy hippo, passed away yesterday due to complications from hernia surgery. I don’t know how many times I have tried desperately to spread awareness of the dangers of infant hippopotamus hernia operations. All for naught, I guess.

The wildlife park is devastated by the loss, especially Prince Harry’s primary caretaker, Toni Inggs. Harry was a beacon of hope for the ranch that was trying to boost the population of the critically endangered species. Prince Harry will be missed by those who took care of him and by the countless fans all over the world who fell in love with him during his brief life. (Via Pawnation)

You may be thinking, “Burnsy, you’re both sincere and handsome, but this isn’t movie news.” And I suppose you’re right, and you’re a sweetheart. But I am using this opportunity to implore Hollywood to tell Prince Harry’s story. Tell the world that this baby hippo, rejected by his cruel bitch of a mother, lived, damn it. Also, the part of the hippo’s trainer should be played by Kate Upton.

After the jump, please remember our favorite pygmy hippo.

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In the immortal words of Kenny Powers, it’s with much disbelief that I ask, “Sh*t, you can die from that?”. Apparently, watching a porno ranks somewhere up next to fighting terrorism on planet Earth’s danger chart. The UK’s Daily Mail recently ran an article featuring the timeless story of a beautiful young woman who died whilst masturbating to a porno flick. Oh don’t you worry, in respectable Daily Mail fashion, the article was sure to feature the woman’s full name, yet still manage to withhold the title of the porno that did her in. I’m guessing she must have been watching Eff Me To Death: Volume 3, but I could be wrong. It definitely may have been Volume 2.

A 30-year-old woman’s death as she used a sex toy while watching pornography was probably due to her state of sexual excitement, an inquest heard today. Children’s nanny Nichola Paginton was found dead in bed naked from the waist down last October with pornographic material running on her laptop. A sex toy was discovered next to her.

A Home Office pathologist told the inquest in Gloucester that Miss Paginton died from a sudden heart arrhythmia, probably brought on by her state of arousal.

‘After they [the neighbors-Ed.] broke in they realised Miss Paginton was dead,’ said Sgt Webb. ‘She had a computer on her lap and when they moved it and lifted the duvet, they found she was naked from the waist down and there was a vibrator in the bed.

‘The laptop was still displaying pornographic material.’

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When I saw those ads for the Final Destination movies, I always just assumed it was gore porn for stupid people.  Little did I know… THE STORIES WERE TRUE!

An Italian woman who arrived late for the Air France plane flight that crashed in the Atlantic last week has been killed in a car accident, it has been reported.
Johanna Ganthaler, a pensioner from Bolzano-Bozen province, had been on holiday in Brazil with her husband Kurt and missed Air France Flight 447 after turning up late at Rio de Janeiro airport on May 31.
All 228 people aboard lost their lives after the plane crashed into the Atlantic four hours into its flight to Paris.
The ANSA news agency reported that the couple had managed to pick up a flight from Rio the following day. It said that Ms Ganthaler died when their car veered across a road in Kufstein, Austria, and swerved into an oncoming truck. Her husband was seriously injured. [TimesOnline]

Pensioner – that means hot twenty something, right?  In the movies, death only cares about you if you’re hot and young.  But it seems, try as it might, it hasn’t finished the job on her husband.  And Death is intent on collecting the souls of the ones who cheated it.  I smell sequel.  …Oh, and uh, my condolences to the family or whatever.