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For a long time now this record existed as nothing more than myth. A rumor circulated thru the record biz for some time that Bulb Record's Mr. Velocity Hopkins finally went TOO far and there existed an acetate documenting his irrevocable demise. There was a six-month period before these recordings, Mr. Velocity Hopkins Family member, Aaron Dilloway (Hanson Records impresario), revealed, "where Velocity was draggin us into these truly upsetting circumstances at gigs where he d invite these Haitian voodoo lords on stage, sometimes Navajos or Iroquois. Our allergies reacted severely to their emagic dust but for Velocity it numbed his frontal lobes, man, a pure animal frothing all over his frets. This record, which I still hope gets nixed as a release, is the consummation of our allergy-induced hell and Velocity as a modern day six-string shaman. It broke the Family up in the process." For this final ritual Hopkins needed men (or multi-instrumentalists, if you will) possessing nerves made of titanium or at least Pyrex to conjure up this 22-song, 26-minute blast of metallic-fried oompah-oompah circus music. Several members of the Hanson Records clan (in addition to Dilloway) descended into the vortex as well as one Weezel Walter (Flying Luttenbachers, Lake of Dracula). The Bay of Pigs ended in dead Cubans, broken promises, no air support and a secret hatred for a good-looking Irish guy who is sleeping with your ex. Similar to the current scene involving a friend of mine and his gi