Jamming with New Friends

The first time James McEvoy and Evan Ignatz ever jammed:

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Conspiracy Theory 5: Area 51

PHOTO 5: Area 51

Evan hasn't just MET aliens. He was giving this one his phone number.

Truly, these photos raise more questions than they answer. Who is this elusive young man? What will he do next? One can only speculate...

Footprints, Second Edition

Evan had yet to finish unpacking his worldly possessions when the courier arrived with a telegram from God Himself. “It’s urgent”, the courier said. “God requests your presence now.” Evan thought it quite strange that an eternal being would be such a stickler for time, but he obliged, and while considering grabbing his coat, realized the weather is always a sunny 70 degrees, walked to meet Him.

God was seated on the front steps of the grand hall, impatiently tapping his foot and humming Thriller. He arose and smiled as Evan and the courier approached, clearly excited for their arrival. “I’m glad you could finally make it. I’ve been building this for years.”, God said, as they came within earshot. He hopped down and extended a hand to Evan. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ignatz, allow me to show you to your eternity.”

As they walked down the long corridor, there were many labeled rooms. One for “Art”, another “Music”. Another was labeled “Philosophy”. Evan was curious; “God, what’s the deal with all these labeled doors?”

“Ahh, my child, “ he replied. “This is the heaven that has been custom created for you. I’m sure you’ve heard people tell you your entire life on earth, ‘Oh, there’s a special place in hell for people like you’. Well, that was just my idea of a joke, because all of your existence on earth was really just a temporary housing while I finished up my work here for you.” God made a point of using finger quotes when he mentioned temporary housing. “Think of it as my way of testing out all of the things I thought I’d want to include up here. I named it Heaven for a reason. People down there just can’t seem to spell.”

“So lemme get this straight,” Evan said. “I get to live here and get the best of earth?”.

God replied, “Oh no. This world is yours to rule. Allow me to show you the Earthly things that I have summoned for you.” And with that they approached the door marked “Music”. “Six years ago I summoned for you a Mr. Robert Moog. I have kept him as my slave, forcing him to craft for you the finest of musical synthesis instruments. They are all vintage, all analog, and whenever you want a new musical partner to jam with, just give me a ring and I’ll work some ahem mysterious ways and they will be yours to do what you will with.”

Evan was excited at the prospect of having any musician he wanted on call, but wanted to see what was in the other rooms. Evan stopped at the room marked “Hockey”, and peaked his head in. A blustery wind hit his face, and he could smell the dry ice air. “I was particularly proud of this one,” God boasted. “I scoured the earth for the best ice, but I was having trouble finding some decent players you could play with that most people wouldn’t miss, so I summed you an entire KHL team.” And with that, Evan was holding his very own personalized Lokomotiv jersey, finely stitched with his name and number.

Evan was too overwhelmed to speak, and he stumbled out and into another door marked “Carnal Pleasures”.

“I know that it may seem like I’m a stickler for sex related stuff, but it’s really only the gays that give me the heebies.” God said. “But I think you’ll like this none the less. Allow me to present to you the finest sampling of women I could find. And for you they are in endless supply, for as long as there are irresponsible teenagers drinking at prom, I will always find a way to bring them to you. My greatest gift to you, Mr. Ignatz, is an endless supply of idealistic and nubile teenage girls. Do you see how their parents mourn? This, I care not about. I am only here to serve you.”

Evan, perplexed at this last statement, finally spoke. “What do you mean, serve me? Aren’t you God?”. “Nay,” God replied, I am but one God. You are the ruler of this world, for you shunned your old ways and wed one of my people... the good people of the Mormon faith. She will come here to rule with you eventually, but until then, enjoy the pleasures which I have created for you.”

And with that, God was gone, and Evan began his rule.

Law and Order Evan

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Slicker Than Snot

Can't really remember when I didn't knew

the sight or sound of this wild haired jew

stared in revulsion at this gigolo hunting buffalo

although… I heard he once skin dipped with A Ho

But whatevs, it's all good - that's not what I'm here for

I want to hear the sound that makes the booty drop down PAST the floor

And see the drunken offerings coming to the stage just begin' for more

He can just go down the aisle and see with whom he wants to score

Now there are a few stories that need to be told

About this chosen one talking about who he'd bang in front of a 12 year old

A drunken night spent in the middle of ancient trees and aging mold

But who knew this dude was the goose that laid the eggs of gold

And need I remind you his great grandfather killed a giant with a fucking sling-shot?

And one of his other grandfathers gave some of what the haves have to the have-nots?

Honestly I think this is all that I got - cause this ain't my lot

But the licks this jewden lays are slicker than snot

Evan on his Synths

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Conspiracy Theory 4: Paul McCartney is Dead

PHOTO 4: Paul McCartney is dead: Evan replaced him.

Ever wonder why the Beatles remained so awesome in their later years, singing about trippy things? Evan still moonlights as McCartney and was the inspiration behind "I am the Walrus", "Yellow Submarine", and strangely, "Helter Skelter".

Ever wonder why "Paul McCartney" ended up marrying an amputee? Evan is into some freaky shit. This photo, taken right before the transition, illustrates Evan's close ties to the fab four.

Evan Ignatz, lady flatterer extraordinaire.

20 minutes till the Fiasco was to take the stage for their most epic show ever and they still didn't have their hands on the live music permit. The permit was being held captive by a down on her luck diva who wanted anything but to hear a spunky band playing mood lifting mashups while eating her kung poa chicken. The force field of negativity surrounding this chicks bitter heart could only be broken by the most adept lady ; this was a job for Evan Ignatz.

Evan sauntered up to the target leaned over smiled crookedly and said, "Hi Darlin." "Hi, Evan, how are you, remember me?" returned the diva flatly. Terror struck deep in our heroes heart. He had meet this lady before? Was he the cause of her bitter heart? Would he be able to win this minx over before their fans started rioting? The band waited with baited breath to see how he could navigate his way out of this one.

Without skipping a beat he ran his fingers through her hair and said, "Oh Helen, how could I forget you?" as he slid into the booth beside her. "My name is not Helen," she said as she slid further away from him. "I know, but you're so beautiful, a war could be fought over you." Just like that a laugh escaped her throat and a smile brightened her face. Seeing his opportunity Evan slid his fingers through, his hair again, locked eye contact and asked for the permit. Under his hypnosis the diva reached in her handed and hand over the paper that all their hopes and dreams were riding on. "Thanks darlin. Maybe after the show I can pay you for a shoulder rub," Evan said as he deftly got out of the booth. "Sure" she squeaked never taking her eyes off of him.

Cheers went up for Evan as he handed over the permit. "Ain't a thing," he daid humbly as he placed his fingers on the keys and started the show.

A show saved, a bitter heart turned sweet, all in a days work for Evan Ignatz, lady flatterer extraordinaire.

Evan's Favorite Color!

Conspiracy Theory 3: 9/11

PHOTO 3: 9/11

No, Evan was not in Manhattan, nor in DC. He was too close to the project to risk being near the detonations. Instead, the mastermind was placed among students (a particularly dastardly decision, considering his Penn State ties) while President Bush read to the class. "My Pet Goat"? More like "My Pet Sheep".

Evan 4 EVA

Conspiracy Theory 2 : Faked "Moon Landing"

PHOTO 2: Faked "Moon Landing"

Evan's role in the staged moon landing is yet to be determined: one common theory is that he provided soothing background music to "astronaut" actors. This enhanced photo reveals that the moon's "surface" was, in fact, a slippery set piece and an opportunity for Evan to practice skating during film breaks.

[EDITOR'S NOTE: This is also unquestionable evidence that we should not support a space program that never actually got us to the moon in the first place.]

The Monogamous Weak

In faith, I do not dream of shared desire
With one so free; so untarnished and wild;
Unburdened by morals, ethics defiled.
But I feel in my heart, burning with fire
my passions, unrestrained, never shall tire
of Evan, my Evan, my near man-child.
Oh my love! My heart shan’t be reconciled
I love his eyes, hands, his hockey physique
(It puts to shame the monogamous weak)
I know I’ll ne’er have the loving I yearn
For he is too free, to give love in return

I see him everywhere

The Present

We met on the metro. I didn't think people actually met on the metro. I thought it was one of those romantic occurrences you only see in movies and read about in the engagement section of The Express. But there he was, 7a.m. on a Wednesday, plopping down beside me on our morning commute.

"I got you a present," he said. His luscious brown curls fell lightly on his forehead as he leaned in close.

"hmmm?" I half mumbled. I wasn't even sure if he was talking to me at first. The second he had walked into the train I had done my best to concentrate on my newspaper. I didn't want to embarrass myself with staring. When he had sat down next to me I nearly shivered with excitement.

"A present." he restated. "for you." I looked at his outreached hand and took hold of the small piece of paper he was offering. I prayed to god he couldn't see me shaking. As our fingers briefly touched I savored the tingles that ran up my arm. His hands were soft, yet strong. An artist I thought to myself or maybe a musician. I was so wrapped up in our moment of physical contact that I didn't even think to read the piece of paper I held in front of me. It took me a moment to force myself into the present. But with my recollected self, I read aloud the words before me.

"Tonight. Kettler. 1am." it said. Confused I asked "What is Kettl..."

but he was gone. The seat next to me was empty.

The day felt a million years long. I had looked up Kettler online and it seemed the only plausible location was an ice skating rink in Arlington. A skater I thought to myself No wonder he was so beautifully built. Of course I questioned the late-night encounter, but throughout the day I knew I didn't have a choice. I couldn't resist my dark haired stranger.

Night arrived. I was at the ice rink an hour early and I just stayed in my car. I checked myself in the mirror. I brushed my hair a million different ways. I would turn the radio on, then off again. Those 60 minutes seemed an eternity. But finally... it was time.

As I slowly walked up to the glass doors of the venue, I wondered if they'd even be open. It was, after all, late at night. And I wasn't even sure I was at the right place. But they opened with ease and I found myself in a dark lobby, surrounded by benches and strewn with Capitals paraphernalia. All the lights were off save for the glowing room to my left. I let myself follow the light. I walked through another set of doors and into the arena.

There he was. Standing alone in the middle of the rink. He was shirtless and the dark shadow of chest hair made a batman stamp on his manly chest. The low lights made his presence ethereal. I felt as if I'd walked into a dream. He held his hands out wide and I felt myself drifting in his direction. The slick surface beneath my feet only seemed to quicken my eager approach.

And then finally. Finally we were together. Our hands joined and we looked deep into each others eyes. "I've been waiting" he said.

"I know I..." but he stopped me short with a finger to my lips.

"Closer" he said. His arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me in tight. I started into his eyes for what seemed like an eternity. I didn't dare make the first move, but I waited in delicious anticipation of what I knew was to come. He must have known how much I was struggling with the moment, for he didn't keep me in suspense much longer. He leaned in close and our lips met. His soft lips upon mine. A connection I could have only dreamed of.

I fingered his chest hair and laid my head upon his shoulder. He held me tightly and rocked me back and forth. "I want this to last forever." he said.

The words flowed through me like a drug. I could feel every part of myself melting into his being. I didn't want a thing in the world to change. Everything was right. I looked up into his face and said the only thing in the world that mattered "I don't even know your name."

"It's Evan" he replied, as he brushed a strand of hair out of my face. "What's yours?"

I stared deeply into his eyes and leaned in closely. "Caleb. My name is Caleb."

Oh Those Balls

I long for his touch, his hand upon mine.

My miami jew, his fro so divine.

He plays in a band, I go every week

To steal a glance is all that I seek.

He's a conspiracy theorist
Pianist extreme
He is my own inappropriate meme
I can never forget how he made my heart skip
When onto my boyfriend’s face he did dip
Those balls.
Oh what balls.
I’ll never forget
It was only a few months after we met.
And now til forever, I’ll swoon from afar
And wallow in pity, alone at a bar.
For I know
yes I know
It never can be.
He’s meant for a fat girl, and never for me.

Conspiracy Theory 1: The Kenney Assassination

Evan makes suspiciously well-informed arguments when discussing key historical events (like September 11th or the Kennedy assassination). He appears to understand the truth behind major incidences that the rest of the public cannot comprehend. Some (those perhaps, with a less astute eye) might assume that Evan believes in conspiracy theories. They don't know the truth. Evan doesn't just question conspiracies...

Evan is PART OF THEM.

Incredibly astute research and photo analysis has revealed that Evan is, in fact, a major part of several conspiracies that have unfolded over decades.

Evidence of his role follows

PHOTO 1: Kennedy Assassination

No, Evan is not the "black umbrella" man. Look closer, into the shadows. Could that be a perfectly styled hairdo in the grassy knoll? We have found our second shooter, looking dapper in the shade...

Things Evan Ignatz has taught me - Part 1

Eurotrash is the new hipster.

4 synths is better than one. Each one is unique, like a delicate snowflake.

Growing chest hair in the form of a bat signal on your chest is a great way to impress the ladies.

Searching for the absolute perfect patch for a song is more important than hitting correct notes, any day.

Always be ready for a government takeover. Guns? Check. Gold? Check. Precious jewels? Check. Abundant supply of condoms to comfort the frightened masses? Double check.

It's not at all mutually exclusive to be a badass and drive a prius. No, seriously.

Don't attempt to make sweet love to tall females in the doggystyle position.

A Simple Ode