Crisscrossing the country to promote a dangerous mix of communism, cybercrime and drug culture, notorious rock band “The Phish” is pushing American communities to the breaking point. This sad fact can be seen in the headlines so commonplace they no longer shock us: “Phish Fest Nets $81,000 in Drugs; 1,200 Arrests” or “Police Seize $1.2 Million Worth of Drugs From Phish Fans” or “Phish, Drugs and Rock ‘n’ Roll.” As towns and cities across this nation continue to be torn apart by this havoc, it’s high time we get educated about the undeniable threat our children are now facing.

Many successful musical acts like Britney Spears, Gwen Stefani and Josh Groban profit handsomely from studio albums and videos played on cable television stations. What The Phish does is far worse. More than any other band out there today, they have devoted countless hours and incredible financial resources to crossing the country in search of new converts. They are continuously “on tour” performing at venues large and small, prowling for intimate personal contact with the youth of America. Any group of people that makes such a calculated effort to insert itself into the lives of the innocent should surely raise the eyebrows of concerned parents. For The Phish, their modus operandi is to induce the naïve with promises of sexual pleasure and peer acceptance. Like serial killer Charles Manson, they lower inhibitions through hardcore drug use. As with false prophet Jim Jones, the price for such kicks is a complete dedication to their larger agenda.

One concerned mother recently wrote to Oprah Winfrey:

So I think my son is hooked on drugs. He just turned 18 and says I can’t control him anymore. His favorite band is Phish and I’ve seen some of the movie’s he has of this band and they look like a drug band. He says he’s been waiting his whole life for this moment since I guess they recently reuinited (after the singer was caught with heroin!) He says he’s sick of being a noob (whatever that means) and he needs to see his first Phish concert this summer or he never wants to speak to me again. It’s so heartbreaking, he’s at the age where he will do whatever he wants to do since he doesn’t have to ask my permission. He doesn’t look healthy and I don’t want him going to this concert. I did some research on the band and they sound like bad news. I’m about ready to slash his tires on his cars its making me that upset.

A terrifying story indeed!

A closer look at this group’s music proves the implicit endorsement of drug culture that The Phish engages in. There are ballads with titles that celebrate narcotic experimentation such as, “Marijuana” and “Christmas Without Weed.” And then there are those who have secret messages difficult to decipher at first glance. One of their most famous works, “Prince Caspian” is centered on cocaine use and even opens with the noise of a bubbling crack pipe. The lyric, “the children in the fields all sowing seed and chaffing” is a clear reference to the cocoa growers of Columbia. “Bouncing Round The Room” tells the horrendous story of a man who brutally beats his girlfriend around his apartment while on a drug binge. “The Mango Song” talks about running out of marijuana supplies, while “Twist” celebrates a hardcore LSD trip. And the list goes on and on.

The concerts themselves are the foulest orgies of self-indulgent self-satisfaction seen since the tumultuous sixties. When first ushered to their assigned locations in the arena, these “Phishheads” will immediately scope out the area for the most pliable drug abusers within range of their tapping fingers and “Hey dude” calls so that they may score communal soft drinks and “drags” from poorly-rolled blunts. As the evening grows later, they will abandon any sense of camaraderie to lifelong friends in order to scheme closer seats and vivacious women. Eventually the night reaches a fever pitch of exposed breasts and mushroom peaks and the terrifying hippie dancing will begin. Naked, they writhe and commingle with erotic intensity as guitarist Trey Anastasio descends into confusing jam sessions. Children of all ages will tear off their clothes and jump in muddy mosh pits, kicking and penetrating each other with little compunction for common sense. Young girls have their precious bodies traded among eager, breaded elders and teen boys are forced into nightmares of sexual congress. Even regular Phishheads will admit that masturbation is shockingly common in their “scene.”

The music itself is demeaning at best and criminally violent at worst. For mature listeners, it will make no sense. There is an incomprehensible absurdity to their lyrics, like the loudest ramblings of a derelict beaten down by years of alcoholism and homelessness. The instrumental sounds they produce violate all the requirements of high art. There is no rhyme, no reason. Meter, particularly in the hands of keyboardist Page McConnell, does not exist on their stage. Quite simply, band members mash up violent drumming with amateur guitar screeches at such high speeds there is no doubt that heroin is doing a guest performance with the group. (Transvestite drummer Jon Fishman and shifty-eyed bassist Mike Gordon are clearly the most guilty of these auditory abuses.) Their noise seems intentionally calibrated to overload the central nervous system with false messages of terror and orgasm. If there ever were a soundtrack to schizophrenia, this would surely be it. No wonder there is a direct link between psychosis and fans of The Phish.

Of course, drugs are irrevocably connected to this world. How else could one find meaning or even rhythm in their perverse sounds? Recently, authorities made a cursory sweep through a concert and seized:

“70 tanks of nitrous oxide, over 550 grams of marijuana, about 135 grams of mushrooms and more than 100 pills of various prescription narcotics, along with brownies, cookies and Rice Krispies treats laced with marijuana. Police also confiscated 21 cookies containing LSD.”

Other narcotics common in this crowd include: ecstasy, methamphetamine, cocaine, psylocibin, MDMA, hashish, heroin, Adderall and Klonazapin. Mix them all together and drip them into the bloodstream continuously for five years and that’s the mental state of your average fan.

Hedonism continues unabated in the parking lots after these shows. The band pays for tanks of hospital nitrous oxide to be wheeled out so that the hordes of regulars struggling with their symptoms of withdrawal can be managed. As people chug this controlled medical substance, their bodies are subdued with painful cardiac fits. These masochists seem to enjoy it, however, and their friends will find obscene entertainment in watching a comrade flopping helplessly in the dirt. Those too high to return to their parent’s homes will go anywhere nearby to sleep. In dirty motel rooms and even in the backs of old schoolbuses, these people will give their bodies over to painful patchouli sex parties in exchange for a wet pillow on which to rest their heads. (Rumors that roadies and band members regulary crash these events to demand gratification have garnered the attention of police detectives.) In other parking lot vehicles, puffs on pot pipes are bartered for hasty fondlings. Grungy tapestries may hide the worst of these acts from passing eyes, but the cries and splattered fluids on windows are enough to tell the horrific story. For the frustrated, reckless masturbation in Port-O-Johns is the highlight of their evenings. It gives them a small sense of control to harass their aching phalluses to the beat of drummer Fishman’s incoherent thrashings.

This after concert scene is an ideal hunting ground for pimps, ex-cons and manipulators. For the young, so eager to impress and be part of the “in” crowd, it is a terrifying conundrum. They undergo incredible pressures to extend the hippie party beyond a single night at the concert. Tie-dye shirts and cheap trinkets are sold on every corner. Little gas burners of organic foods light up. Marijuana clouds pass overhead. Crude shrines to lead singer Trey are constructed out of falafel wrappers and whippet canisters. And these weak young men and women are encouraged to take the leap into a full “on tour” lifestyle, abandoning family and faith as they pursue never-ending psychedelic trips and dreadlocked sex games in the nearby public parks.

One area of this culture that demands closer inspection is The Phish’s involvement in cybercrime. It may explain the tremendous growth of their empire and how these endless tours are financed. A few years back, investigators noticed a new type of theft across the internet. In a secret nod to this rock band, it was named “Phishing” and involved high tech identity fraud. The people behind it often dig through household garbage, looking for any documents that contain personal information like social security numbers and bank codes. These are then used to create fake drivers’ licenses or credit cards. Clearly, the gypsy-like lifestyle of Phishheads, moving from town to town, digging through other people’s garbage and making easy friends, assures that this a natural outlet for those who seek money outside of gainful employment.

As we take a broad look at this culture spreading to our communities, the question must be asked: What is the ultimate goal of The Phish? Clearly, there is a strong current of communist sympathies in this crowd. These people delight in shared seating and organic products. They demand that their members participate in a “green” lifestyle, despite the fact that it undermines American industries and flies in the face of traditional consumerism. They oppose wars and hard work, instead preferring drum circles and perpetual protest. They even aim to include fringe Christian groups, falsely claiming that the hippie lifestyle conforms to Biblical teaching. A closer look reveals a hidden hierarchy among these people. Older “trust fund hippies” occupy the power elite, using tactics not unlike those employed by the Politburo in the Soviet Union to monitor and control the unruly masses of newbies and the chronically overdosed. With relentless psychological warfare, these elders demand sacrifices to the cause, while at the same time secretly indulging in the plentiful supply of supple young women and fresh drugs that their status affords them. Rarely do they ever open up their discarded front row seats, hotel room suites and air conditioned luxury cars to the common man.

As for the band itself, one can only hypothesize where their broader agenda is leading. It goes without saying that they employ the very same tactics common among drug gangs, pedophiles and cult leaders to spread their dangerous message. If their activities are leading to gun violence, child rape or mass suicide, should we not do everything in our power to stop it?