Here at The Daily Campus, we receive a plethora of freestuff from record labels eager for some good reviews. Sometimesit’s little more than a sampler of a group’s latestefforts, sometimes it’s a full album. For the longest time,this mountain of music has remained untouched for fear of what liesbeneath its shrink-wrapped surface of bad cover art and exclamationmark-laden cover letters. After all, if a record label has resortedto sending full albums to a college newspaper, they must bedesperate. But no longer — I have taken it upon myself todive headfirst into this stagnant pool of mediocrity and bring tothe surface the very worst that music has to offer. You may notagree, you may think I’m too harsh, but that’s thenature of this business.

This is Bad Press.

Kitchen Komforts by LuLu Roman

Published by Cumberland House

You probably don’t know who LuLu Roman is. Originally aDallas go-go dancer, LuLu was an original cast member of thelong-running country variety show, “Hee-Haw.” Aftergrowing to an impressive 300 pounds, LuLu was dropped from the showafter several drug-related arrests. She then found Jesus, rejoinedthe show until its cancellation in 1992, became a gospel singer,and now she’s trying her hand at a cookbook.

Let’s start from the very beginning — the title.Kitchen Komforts. Komforts. Yes, with a K. Because after all,it’s not enough to have alliteration in the title, youactually have to add the letter K. I might mispronounce”Comforts!” I’d miss out on the clever titlealtogether! Kitchen Someforts just doesn’t pack the samepunch, but thank goodness I won’t have that problem.

At this point, let me express my deep-seated confusion over whya publisher in his right mind would send a cookbook like this to anSMU newspaper. The average SMU student is, after all, stereotypedas a rich and appearance-oriented yuppie-in-training. Either thepublisher has no idea what a “target market” is, orthey are under the delusion that a book that features an immenselyhuge, grinning woman standing over a table full of greasy, gloppy,deep fat-fried food on the cover will somehow appeal tocollege-aged young adults. We’re in the era of the Atkinsdiet, Metabolife, health food and liposuction, yet Cumberland Househonestly expects us to buy a book that screams “YOU TOO CANBE THIS MORBIDLY OBESE!”

I’m sorry, that was a cheap shot. It’s too easy topick on the more inflated portion of the population. But can youblame me? I’ve had to read this thing, people. I’vebeen subjected to terrible recipe after recipe, broken up only byterrible pictures of LuLu and terrible “short stories”that seem to only deal with:

a) How much LuLu loves God, b) how much fun making”Hee-Haw” was, and c) how God and food helped herovercome all her terrible problems brought on by her terrible drugproblem.

All in all, it’s terrible. And the real kicker? You get topay 15 bucks retail for it. Isn’t that a kick in theteeth?

The whole theme of the book is “comfort foods,” or”komfort foods,” whichever you prefer. This means, foodto comfort you in your time of need — with lots of butter andoil. And by lots, I do mean lots. I suppose that at the very least,it’s true that these recipes will comfort you, if by comfortyou mean “double your waistline.”

Here, I’ll give you my own little recipe. Take one washedup TV actress. Add a hefty cup of Jesus, and mix thoroughly. Add adash of a failing recording career and three cups of pure lard.Actually, make that four. On second thought, add as much as youwant because LuLu loves you. Isn’t that a komfort?

Death Metal

In another case of poor target marketing, The DailyCampus has received several death metal samplers over the pastweek. Not plain old heavy metal, mind you, but metal’sgreasy-haired cousin, the one that spends all its time in thebasement drawing flaming skulls in the margins of its pre-calculushomework. These are the bands whose members are completelyindistinguishable from one another. It seems like it’s arequirement for all death metal rockers to have long, stringy hairthat hangs down to their elbows, and skinny goatees that look morelike drool than facial hair.

My beef with death metal is about the genre’s apparenttotal lack of originality. The band names are two to three syllablecompound words: Hatebreed, Nevermore, Archenemy, Soilwork andShadows Fall. Okay, that last one was actually two words, but youget my point. The music sounds the same, the singers sound thesame, the subject material is identical, their albums are similarlyadorned with worm-infested skulls, guys in chains and scenes ofhuman misery. Etc. etc. etc.

I won’t review any specific album because I’m sickand tired of the genre as a whole. If you’re into that sortof thing, have a ball. I just prefer music that actually makes aneffort to be a little bit different. And please, don’t sendme any flaming skulls with death threats attached. My collection isgrowing too large as is.