I haven’t written in a couple of days, and honestly, it’s because my brain has been completely hijacked by two pieces of information that have no business existing in the same timeline.
First off, I was sitting here in Eau Claire the other day when I found out that Silver Spring Foods—right here in town—is the largest grower and processor of horseradish on the planet. How the hell did I not realize we were living in the covert global headquarters of sinus-clearing root vegetables? They process industrial condiments for half the country. That means every time you drive through an Arby’s anywhere in America and slather Horsey Sauce on a sandwich, you are literally consuming Eau Claire soil. It’s mind-blowing.
But while I was still trying to process our local condiment empire, the universe decided to hit me with a 50-pound sledgehammer.
The Shatner Metal Protocol: Not a Pat Boone Stunt
When news first leaked that William Shatner was recording a heavy metal album, my immediate reaction was pure, unfiltered dread. I thought, “Oh no. We’re getting Pat Boone’s ‘In a Metal Mood’ all over again.” I envisioned a cheap, corporate novelty act—a sanitized stunt where an old pop-culture icon puts on leather and winks at the camera while ruining a genre that demands blood and sweat.
I was wrong. Shatner at 95 isn’t winking at anybody. He’s leaning into the madness with maximum velocity.
He didn’t just assemble a backing band; he recruited 35 metal icons—including Zakk Wylde, Henry Rollins, and Rob Halford—to lay down punishing, thunderous riffs under his trademark, spoken-word cadence. He isn’t trying to sing like Bruce Dickinson. He’s doing what Shatner does: delivering intense, dramatic, theatrical spoken-word poetry over blistering, double-kick-drum thrash metal.
The Shag Shack, GWAR, and 4 Feet of Sausage
To prove this isn’t just a studio trick, he isn’t playing some polite acoustic showcase. He’s taking his heavy metal band—literally named *The uckers—and debuting the album live at Riot Fest in Chicago.
And then his concert rider leaked to the press. It makes classic 1980s Van Halen look like a tea party. Among his mandatory tour demands, Shatner’s backstage requirements include:
- A dressing room transformed into “Shatner’s Shag Shack”
- Four feet of Polish sausage and eight pallets of Faygo
- A DeLorean to escort him to the stage
- An intro video created specifically by GWAR
- Fire breathers and a pen of adoptable puppies
- An actual boat renamed in his honor so he can “captain a ship again”
You can’t make this up. It’s either the greatest avant-garde performance art piece ever conceived, or proof that the simulation we live in has officially crashed.
The Morbid Reality Check
Which brings us to the ultimate, elephant-in-the-room question nobody wants to ask out loud: Is he actually going to make it?
The man is ninety-five years old. He is planning to stand in front of wall-to-wall Marshall stacks, surrounded by fire breathers, screaming spoken-word thrash metal at thousands of sweaty metalheads in Chicago. What are the actual odds he survives the soundcheck? What if he drops dead of pure, unadulterated rock-and-roll overload five minutes before he hits the stage?
If William Shatner goes out at 95 while being driven to a stage in a DeLorean after eating four feet of Polish sausage in a Shag Shack, it will be the most legendary exit in human history.
Between a spoonful of local Eau Claire horseradish stripping the lining of my sinuses and Captain Kirk fronting a metal band next month, my head is officially blown. Stay tuned.
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