All right, Chester. Reggae is not about ratty dreads, tye-dyed T-shirts, smelly Birkenstocks and smoking spliffs the size of baguettes. It's, like, love man. Reggae is love. Because, you know, it's like the rhythm and the beat and the spirit of coming up in the swelter and squalor of Jamaica and still loving, really loving life. And loving the music. It's the music man. I love you. No, I mean it, I LOVE YOU. Hey, do we got anymore Doritos? I'm fucking starving. OK, so sucking the wacky tobacky out of a 4-foot wizard bong is sort of part of reggae. But it really is the music of artists such as DJ Lion Dub, roots reggae singer Paul Elliott and the ska-reggae-soul-swing-jazz-rock hash of the Slackers (pictured) that will bring people to the Halloween Extravaganja. Plus, it gives you a reason to toke from a ventilated Pepsi can and stare at your hands. Not that you needed one.
