Archive: 10-1-05 to 11-25-05
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11/25/05
SO...how was your thanksgiving feed?
If you maintained control of the celebration and held it on your home turf...good for you. If you ignored it and went to the bar and were happy...that's very nice. If like scores of millions of Americans..particularly those under the age of 35 or 40...you felt obligated to attend a "family" get together hosted by a relative that you had doubts about in the light of past observances...I'm here to ask you: WAS IT WORTH IT?? Will you attending a Christmas gathering that you're also leery about? Or will this be the year that you grow a pair and put your foot down and enjoy the days off from work dead drunk in the sack or with your REAL family...your surrogate and more meaningful contingent of friends??
Oddly enough, Elvis observed that he was sick of hearing friends whining about attending a family holiday feed and thought they were being crybabies.
He's spent most thanksgivings with his Mother and me in a very quiet, private setting. That's the way this one was too...so it's no wonder if his perspective is different from mine. As an analogy, he's never had christian horsecrap pushed on him by his parents..so he's able to shrug religion off easily compared to we children of holy middleclass American prudes.
Let's get back to you though. If you had a good time and get along with your blood relations, more power to you..you're luckier than you may think.
I know goddamned good and well that plenty of you came home with horror stories about hard to get along with relatives. If so, will you put your foot down and attend their Christmas observance on your own terms?? Or be a pussy and allow yourself to be brow beaten into submission?
Since I'm a confirmed hedonist...a dedicated devotee to having fun 365 days per year in whatever carnal fashion you choose to (provided that you're willing to pay the consequences if you impose your vice on the innocent) I know that a lot of you reading this bristle at having to act square and cover up tattoo's and downplay piercings and bite your tongue when your windbag relatives start talking like Sunday school teachers about drugs, booze, glorius smut and rock and roll.
As I've related here several times over the years, I put up with it up into my mid 20's or so...then I grew a pair.
I was raised attending thanksgiving feeds with large groups of relations involved in a very, VERY stodgy evangelical church. I loathed all the small talk and poop from grumpy males watching football games; I felt like an ass pretending to observe their pre meal prayer..the food was good...but the dialogue always became very catty and self righteous and derogatory towards the rebellious relatives that didn't show up to go through their day of play acting. It was at a thanksgiving meal as a newlywed that I had to sit through a bombastic spiel on the part of my Father-in-law pontificating on marijuana being the seed of all that was wrong in our society. To just sit and listen to self centered jackasses like that spout on and on goes against my nature. I never did through down verbally with him over such silly horseshit...I just quit going. My decision was made easy by the fact that I had become a Father and I didn't want my son remembering my as being some sort of wean-bag hypocritical milquetoast.
For a few years Marla and Elvis would spend thanksgiving with those folks..and I'd sit at home and eat a steak and get shitfaced..or maybe eat at a buffet...and then get tanked up. The "problem" of attendance was solved when we moved away from their region.
The last thanksgiving I can remember spending with my side of the family was at my sisters house. My mother was there which meant we had to deal with her religious wackyness...and also strangely several people I had never met from my sisters small town whom she felt sorry for and invited.
She's a kind soul at times..and it's to her credit I guess that she feeds relative strangers she barely knew....but it creeped me out. I HATE STRANGERS.
If I want to spend a few hours with strangers I'll go to a goddamned bar. I want to eat in peace and not feel like I have to plaster a phoney smile on my face. There was some friction even during the holy watching of the football games on TV. Marla and I overstepped the boundaries of politeness by not feeling compelled to root for the regional favorite football team...and felt cold stares.
After that hellish experience I was determined that Elvis wasn't going to see me put up with that sort of crap either. By "that crap" I mean knock myself out to drive for hours to eat in an awkward environment.
Really, weighing all these factors it's not mostly the religious overtones or stranger factor or mandatory sweaters. It's more likely the prudish finger wagging. I'd enjoy spending a thanksgiving with my recently discovered blood relations. They likely pray before eating (probably for Grannies sake) and they're not bohemians..just blue collar country folk. They drink beer and wine freely and they don't lecture or act pompous. I've never heard them utter a word of advice to me on societal or vocational or moral subjects. They're more likely to tell fart jokes as the day presses on than badmouth relations who aren't present.
I guess the bottom line is, they never felt compelled to expect me to live any certain way since they weren't aroun when I was a child..and they treat me like an adult...which like it or not I suppose I have been for a damn lot of year. My Mother in Eugene thanks largely to her judgemental church still hasn't adjusted to that. When we get together (which is rare) I still usually have to undergo some amount of assinine bullshit. The same goes for her holy extended family.
They couldn't conceive of tolerating the way I prefer to live and spend holidays for even one day...NOT EVEN ONE FRIGGING HOLIDAY out of twenty. It's always their rules. I don't exactly want to tell them how to live their own lives..I just want the respect they'd give a co-worker or neighbor or non-family acquantance. But that'll NEVER happen.
So, frankly...FUCK 'EM.
If you don't put your foot down at some point and insist on being treated like an adult and maybe show them you mean business by skipping a few holiday fests...you'll be fighting that battle forever.
If I hadn't came to the very brink of cutting off all contact with Mother if she didn't tone down her preaching by 90% or so...I would've cut her off for good. She still shows signs of reverting back to the past...a case in point is revealed in a phone discussion she had with Marla today.
She had the audacity to advise her that if we wanted her to visit we had to move to a specific city..Phoenix Arizona...because her nosey, busybody sister has a son living there and she approves of the airport.
Does this sound bizarre?? Let me explain a bit more. I've challenged her in the facing of her whining about wanting to see us more often to visit US. It's cheaper for one retired person to fly somewhere than uproot three peoples lives to make a long trek to a bass-ackward shitheel State (Boregon).
For years she refused our offer demanding that I fly to Eugene to meet her and travel with her (like a child) both ways. NO WAY Mother...no fucking way. You'll just have to put up with the rare visits we can financially handle if that's the case.
Anyway..her sister's son flew her to Phoenix at great expense...when a flight was available into Las Vegas that was a fraction of the cost. Why?? Because she had developed a senile attitude that the Vegas airport is no damned good.
HELLS FUCKING BELLS!! If my cousin Al wants to shell out $650 to fly his Mother into an airport she "likes" and approves of instead of spending $99-$125 to fly her into Vegas and haul her sourpuss ass a couple hours back home...that's HIS BUSINESS. I'll be goddamned if I'm gonna do that.
If I gave into my Mother on that issue...she'd just raise the ante in other areas..being more demanding about what I wore in her prescense or my consumption of alcohol or my holy afterlife prospects.
If she wants to visit us, we'll buy her a normal ticket and treat her respectfully. If we caved in to her she'd just see it as a sign of weakness and make more selfish demands based on her Sisters whims.
You can learn from my experience.
It's time to demand that you be treated like the adult you are.
If you need to be a pariah and be badmouthed by relatives for a few years...well, that's part of standing up for your basic rights as an adult. ONLY attend family gatherings on your own terms. If there's been heat in the past..attend..but stay in a motel and be ready to put distance between yourself and those judgemental fucks when you decree it neccessary.
If they live in town....point out your attendance stipulations ahead of time...and cheerfully follow up when and if they cross the line. It's the only way you'll ever be respected and treated like an adult.
There's plenty of time between now and christmas for you to lobby behind the scenes and gently tell them what you'll not put up with.
Point out that you wouldn't think of telling them how to run their own lives or how to behave at a family gathering. Represent your rights as being simply common decency amongst adults and they'll be forced to either behave or spend the day without you. Present it as THEIR CHOICE.
Let me know if they blow a gasket and I'll help you through the experience. UURRPPPPPPPPP.
11/22/05
R.I.P. LINK WRAY
As I said about 10 days ago, this year is so damned sick....too many deaths. One after another after another. I can't wait until this year is over; I'm not sure if the next year will be better...but the odds are it can't be "worse" unless the entire damned planet just explodes putting us all out of our misery in one fell swoop.
If this diary is beginning to resemble an obituary page, well what can I say? So be it. The passing of people we love or maybe just admire from afar needs to be noted. I come to grips with deaths in my own way. Besides the cerebral portion of the process, I usually wind up hoisting shotglasses filled with booze to the sky and say a few words and in many cases try to keep from breaking down. This is the emotional side of things.
I'm an agnostic....and as such I don't believe or disbelieve totally in heaven or hell or reincarnation or any sort of after life. Of course being a tactful individual, I don't bicker or argue philisophically with grieving loved ones or fans of the departed.
Some people slice their hair off and burn their clothing when loved ones die...some burn their hair off and slice off their clothing. I simply drink booze in a ceremonial manner.
Last night Elvis and I hit the jug pretty good saluting the departure from earth of arguably REAL rock 'n roll's coolest guitar player of all time...Mr. Link Wray.
I don't mourn him in the same manner that I would a relative or personal friend or a wrestler or other hero who dies many years too young. He lived a full life and died at the age of 76 in his loved ones arms. I hope I'm that lucky.
I sat down to write here about him and I got about 2 1/2 pages into details about his life and career and impact and I decided it was getting out of hand for this "diary" and should be a column. Therefore, I'm going to shape it into a column for AMP.
Also, I want to just sit and drink and listen to his music for a few more days before I attempt to complete a full blown comment on his existance.
Ever since I heard the first rumors of Link's death last Saturday or so I've been aware of how hard a lot of my greasy haired rockabilly loving pals must be taking this. I can picture a few of them who read this diary lurching around banging cans together out of their minds...beer spraying in all directions....on HELL'S OWN DRUNKEN SPREE. I envision some of them getting their butts chewed by girlfriends the next morning or afternoon whenever they come out of it.
My friends, LINK WRAY IS WORTHY OF THAT SORT OF DRUNK.
This is a man who attacked his guitar amps with an icepick poking holes in costly speakers to give his fans a dark, sinister, throbbing fuzz tone.
This is a man who raised the bar on excitement in rock and roll instrumentals. One minute he'd be walking the strings swaggering along...(Rumble)...the next he'd be throttling the hell out of the fret board with frantic guitar licks like in "Run chicken run".Link even had a knack for shifting into a sort of melancholy nuetral gear within his songs...letting the pressure build up much like hypnotic bands that came along many, many years later and also some of the early 50's sax honkers I admire like Big Jay McNeely. With his Brothers the Wray men backing him he held court at bars and roadhouses like the infamous "1023" club in D.C.
You may think you're a big badass punk rocker braving your local music dive in spite of mean spirited jock bouncers or occasional naughty slam dancers.
Pal, you wouldn't last 5 minutes back in the early 60's at the "1023" from what I've read. Speed and booze fueled bikers were there in large numbers..greaser hicks from the nearby Virginia sticks would show up itchin for a chance to get their kicks by putting the boots to some unlucky bystander. As the 60's rolled along and Link and his boys maintained their long residency bricks would often come sailing in through the windows from the increasingly angry streets of the black neighborhood outside. The Wraymen had to pack heat and defend their stage.
You can even read about it in a book by an author I enjoy a lot George Pelecanos in his book "hard revolution".
Hey, every musician had their own crowd..and Link's was one of the baddest.
Link Wray was NOT for pinks or mollycoddles.
Well, not back then at least. Nowdays even wussies can pick up the excellant Norton records 2 CD collection of 63 of his tracks recorded for Swan records and listen to his tense, often distorted tunes in the safety of your own compound.
I also really enjoy his late 70's work with Robert Gordan..I even have a video tape from that period.
There are plenty of other worthy Wray LP's and cd's worth having. I've probably got 10 or 12 full lengthers. The most recent one I own was 1997's "Shadowman" recorded by Link at the age of 68.
He hadn't softened up a bit. Track 1 "rumble on the docks" which is an updated version of his biggest hit is steamy and very, very moody and..uhh..sonically BRUISING. He croons a tear dripping salute to ol' Hank "I can't help it if I'm still in love with you" accompanied only by a soulful echoey electric guitar; he gives a similar heartfelt reading to "Heartbreak hotel" (the King and him were personal buddies of course). He even delivers a bone-crunching version of CCR's "run through the jungle" that gives me goosebumps. Shadowman, night prowler, hells fucking bells the album's LOADED. And, best of all there isn't a hint of fashionable alterno-rap bullshit or hippie peace creep "sensibility".
"Shadowman" is a perfect CD that you will listen to over and over again if you like ballsy rock and roll. Unlike so many mega-super-duper star "rockers" and their wimpy recorded attempts at being in tune with the trends Shadowman is as good as a batch of his songs from 40 years ago. Elvis and I speculated between blasts of booze raised to the ceiling last night that NOBODY at the age of 68 ever cut such a cool record...whether you're talking rock and roll, country or blues.
I'm gonna back on outta here and let you already obsessive Link Wray fans get back to yer shots and yer paint peeling rebel yells in his name and back to throwing crushed depleted cans at each other.....I have only one request....CRUSH A CAN AND THROW IT AT THE WALL FOR THEE WHISKEY REBEL....I'm there with you in spirit oh my maniacal brethren who honor the spirit of...like I said.. REAL rock and roll's coolest guitar player ever.
11/19/05
Just in case anybody is worried that I've slipped into a state of over-serious "stuffy" chess obsession, I've got to point out Elvis and my latest kick for clearing our minds late at night (well, early in the morning for you) over alcohol. He found a rare copy of a Play station game from the U.K. titled "theme hospital".
We used to rent this game when we lived in Philly. I may have written about it years ago in this diary; I don't know. I don't remember 2% of what I've written.
It's a semi-serious game you could play with your school aged kids...and they'd likely never realise how much fun it is for people with an obsession with foul, juvenile bathroom humor....like us.
The supposed goal of the game is to build and run efficient hospitals.
Luckily, the Brit's with their wicked sense of humor rescued the game from being merely "educational" by allowing for options similar to the foul, vile, evil side of "SIMS".
If you don't have enough janitors on your staff...if you hire lazy Doctors with "cabbage breath"...if you hire uncaring nurses...you'll wind up with a rat infested hospital with actual scurrying rodents and globs of poop everywhere left by patients with cases of the "squits". Patients can collapse and die...and indeed do in droves when that suits our whim.
We've been playing it straight for the last week...but it's inevitable that our evil sides will take over and wind up creating a Play Station death camp instead of a hippocratic castle of purity.
It's a shame that a great game like "Grand theft auto San Andreas" has been attacked and shut down by prudes. Elvis (who has also competed in a couple chess tournaments I might add) has spent hundreds of hours pimp slapping ,vehicularly running over and sniper-shooting thousands of innocent victims in what he considers the best video game of all time.
Of course he hasn't run out and commited those sort of acts in "real life".
When you have a video game system you can blow off steam with...you don't need to.
Have you heard the Video game slogan for one of the systems "live in your world..play in ours"??? We've thought for a long time it would be better if it was turned around: "LIVE in OUR world....play in yours".
I get the spins from too much Grand Theft auto.....I have to settle for passive games like Tiger Woods golf.....which is fucking superb. I haven't actually golfed since I was 19 or so due to my increasingly BAD temper. When it got to the point I was trying to wrap clubs around trees it was time to quit.
Maybe if I inherit money or invest in a successful emerald mine I'll take up the game again someday.....you never know with me.
For now I've got Tiger Woods PS2 2005...and it kicks ass.
I love the simulated beauty of a video game golf course. I understand the strategy of the game....and I'm a firm believer in escapism...so it's to be expected that I'd treaure it.
While I'm at it, I guess I should point out that I've been enjoying the NFL once again. They seem to have really gotten the game back to the traditional basics I enjoy. I don't mind the hip-hop lifestyle being a part of the NFL...it got disgusting when it seemed to dominate. Likewise, I'm not a fan of Vince Lombardi stick-up-yer ass christian values football.
Since the team Marla and I followed in both our childhoods as well as for the first 15++ years of our marriage (the Raiders of course) is "re-building"...and considering I have no regional loyalties whatsoever I've felt free to pick and choose teams to follow.
Of course the Colts look great; I'm not a band wagon jumper for front running teams though. I like the Steelers quite a bit. Their coach has a handsome lantern jaw as prominent as that of Sgt. Slaughter by god. We'll see. I remember their 3rd string quarterback from Vince Mcmahon's delightful XFL.
UUURRRPPPPPPP. Enough...back to chess. I'm gonna go watch some 3 minute blitz games played by grandmasters on the Internet Chess Club and then try to pass out for a few hours so I can be fresh for some NFL games tomorrow....UUUhhhh...and of course some eventual larfs with "Theme hospital".
11/16/05
For those of you who don't follow wrestling websites, Espn issued a partial apology on behalf of Colin Cowherd.
Mike McNally called me tonight to point out a fact that somewhat explains Colin Cowturd's smarmy stance towards wrestling: he spent a lengthy period of time working and living in that holier than thou, breast beating 3rd rate city I often refer to as "Snoreland Boregon"; this is the same burg that local-legislated the long running Owens wrestling promotion into throwing in the towel back in the mid-80s'. Remember, Snoreland Boregon is the same city that the WWF/WWE couldn't book in for many years.
In spite of a fantastic wrestling legacy going back many years the city became too "smart" and collectively "witty" and oh Sooooo "progressive" to permit shows that catered to "Bubba's" and morons to continue to give the city a black eye.
Colin Cowturd likely was just capitalizing on a segment of society that he thought it's safe to insult.
I knew that all along...that he WANTED attention. He might have gotten a high five from management for a job well done (the petition alledgedly drew 5,000+ signatures).
Still, in this case I think that it was a good outlet for fans of Eddie's to blow off some steam and let their voices be heard.
I've read that there was a copycat yahoo somewhere in New England who topped Mr. Cowturd the same day by ripping into Owen Hart as well as Eddie.
I think it's pretty clear that when these guys say stuff like this we can assume they're under pressure to attempt to be the next Stern.
Wrestling is holy to a lot of us. Even though I don't think he's a huge fan, Stern himself books quite a few wrestlers onto his show. Thanks Howard.
Cowturd evidently doesn't believe wrestlers are "real" athletes. Maybe his ratings have been sagging so bad that he hasn't gotten out and talked to in the flesh professional athletes in a while; as we all know, lots of them are huge fans of wrestlers. Guys like Flair, Foley, Big Show, Jericho, to name a few are always being invited to make special appearances at games.
Hey,...I'll bet my left nut that Eddie Guerrero had a HELLUVA lot of fans amongst the ranks of NFL, NBA, MLB and NHL athletes. AM I RIGHT?? Of course I am.
One of my hero's Playboy Buddy Rose used to engage in athletic contests at public appearances with "legit" (huh..) athletes and had a great success rate at out running them in the 100 yard dash in spite of the fact that he carried a few extra pounds perhaps. Not all wrestlers over the years have had a sports background prior to entering the rhealm of the squared circle..but a good percentage of them did. Ernie Ladd, Wahoo McDaniel, Pillman, Angle, Lesnar, the Funks, Tully Blanchard, Leon White (Vader), Chris Taylor, Ken Patera, Randy Savage, Brian Lee, Luger, etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. come to mind.
Just like all the other pencil-neck-geek journalists who like to drag wrestlers names through the mud I'd like to see Mr. Cowturd lace up a pair of boots and try to show us moron's and inbred necks how easy it is to "wrassle".
I'd like to see him repeat his daring, ratings hungry statements in the prescence of some of Eddies family. I bet even Granny Guerrero would kick his ass.
He's nothing......and when he's replaced by some other host I bet he'll vanish with little fanfare.
11/14/05
"WHO CARES THAT HE DIED"
That's what a piece of shit attention seeking talkshow host "Colin Cowherd" for Espn had to say about Eddie Guerrero on his show Monday.
If you are disgusted by that (like me) there are two things at least that you can do. Join an on-line petition to get this clown fired or fined or chastised in some way.
www.petitiononline.com/firecc/petition.html
If you're still steamed, call their customer service line: 1-860-766-2000 and state your case.
What a cheap s.o.b....I'll avoid their network like crib death if they don't address this situation. We all have that choice...and yes, I DO CARE.
I'm passing this info along...and I hope you do too if you care.
11/13/05
R.I.P. EDDIE GUERRERO
For me personally, this year has been so far without a doubt the goddamned worst parade of death in my lifetime. It's been horrible in many other ways too...but it's hard to bitch about being broke or upset about the way some things are going in life when people you've known and admired, loved, or wanted to know better but never got the chance have been snuffed out.
I associate this calendar year with this streak of misery partly in hope that if I survive it and the rest of my closest family members survive it and my good friends survive it and people I respect whom I've never met survive it...well, maybe we'll have a few years of peace.
Lots of friends have lost a number of people this year; parents, spouses, longtime friends, siblings...I'm fucking spooked by it without doubt.
I'll feel a lot safer (and I know it sounds childish and illogical to say so) on January 1st.
The mood stated above described my state of mind when I woke up today and checked my email and learned of the death of Eddie Guerrero.
SHIT!!! Is there no end to the deaths this year??
I've been numbed to such an extent that even though I was shocked and abolutely speechless for a minute, I think it's going to take a long time for it to sink through. The normal phases of mourning I go through for heroes, relatives and friends are all different in nature. I've been shocked by so many deaths of folks I have a personal connection of sorts to this year that I think it won't completely hit me about Eddie today. Still, after a few more rounds in his honor maybe I'll wind up having a nice dream about him tonight.
I've read literally scores of nice obit's and tributes to Eddie at wrestling websites. To paraphrase one of them, he was a HERO to many folks for more than one reason apart from his skills in the squared circle.
It's silly the way that Hispanic wrestlers are often presented as one dimensional in the U.S.; But let's face it, wrestlers have willfully used their ethnicity (and in some cases "suggested" ethnicity) to their advantage for many, many years. It's not all that sinister. Bruno Samartino was a special hero to Italians, Ivan Putski a favorite of Poles, etc. Eddie was GOOD FOR BUSINESS in a big way in cities like El Paso, L.A., San Diego, Tuscon, Phoenix, etc.
I remember seeing members of Eddie Guerrero's family working in the Pacific northwest territory for Don Owens when I was damn young. They didn't hide their racial heritage...they used it to draw in more fans. That's part of their appeal as workers for a promotion. Why not? Coa Coa Samoa and Jimmy Snuka brought in the Samoan community. What the hell?? Yeah, there were some stereotypes that were ugly and all...but the wrestling business has always been about capitalizing on that sort of thing.
Having grown up watching a rotating cast of mid-card level Guerrero's on "Portland Wrestling" for many years it was only natural that I was interested in Eddie when he made waves all the way from Mexico tagging up with the son of Portland's longterm referree Sandy Barr..Art.
Imagine how we Irwin's perked up when Eddie went to work for ECW a mile away from our house in South Philly. To be honest, we were bigger fans of Sabu and Cactus Jack. Still, we always followed Eddie G.
When he went to WCW we didn't tune in to watch him...but we hated that promotion intensely.
It was a big day clear in my memory when him and his pals jumped as a group from WCW to WWF. Eddie seemed to really be a "total package" by this point in his career. Great on the mic, great in the ring. He had been good as far back as we knew...but when he hit the WWF he was complete.
After dealing with some bad luck injuries Eddie eventually made his prescence known in a big way. His work with Chyna was frigging brilliant. His wrestling was always top notch...and his facial expressions and promo's were gifted.
As the years went by a lot of WWF/WWE workers have often been criticized for their in ring and/or mic work. Eddie Guerrero just got bigger and bigger.
When he was needed to come across as a slimeball...he seemed scummier than anybody on the roster. As a fan favorite type he boosted the ratings by jaw dropping amounts in the South west.
While the WWE roster has deteriorated over the years Eddie kept growing in strength. You always knew that you could count on being entertained by him and a shrinking number of other guys. He's been one of the most complete, INTENSE wrestlers in their stable for a long time now.
It was a great day for wrestling when he and his pal Chris Benoit won the 2 world title straps on the same day at Wrestlemania. It seemed right.....long overdue.
He was a convincing champion...putting lots of butts in the damned seats...and although he hasn't worn the strap around his waist for awhile, it's no secret he was going to wrestle for the WWE title this very night of his death.
It wasn't to be though; he was found dead on the bathroom floor of his hotel room with a toothbrush in his mouth....a victim of heart failure. By coincidence, about 3 weeks ago I bought and wore for the first time a "Latino heat" T-shirt that I found in a thrift store in Austin. When you see me wearing it (and I goddamned will until it's worn down to rags damnit) I want you to remember the Guerrero family that both presaged Eddie and his title reign...AND Eddie and Art and Spicolli and Chris and Hawk and Terry and Brian and...well, you get the damned idea.
UUUUURPPPPPPPPPP.
11/11/05
I'm NOT MAKING THIS UP...!
I read a "news" report that was attempting to get to the bottom of the riots in France staged by disadvantaged Muslim youths. Rather than cast the blame upon the racist French snotty upper-class some parents of these young folk evidently shrugged and declared there wasn't much they could do to discipline their children..since French law forbids spankings.
This raises quite a few questions...is there indeed a law in France against "spanking"?? I'm not a spanking advocate, but I don't deny that there's a time and place for a whack on the rump and don't quarrel with my friends who spank their kids. I can understand if there are French laws against wailing the shit out of your kid...but innocent spanking??
If this is so, it must create quite a clash between "progressive" French uppercrust and immigrant Muslims...there are nations ruled by Muslim law that prescribe STONING to death of adulterous wives. How can these people coexist?? NO WONDER there's problems over there.
It's awfully hard to resist saying "NYAH NYAH NYAH"!!!! in the face of such destruction. Folks in Europe have been pointing fingers at the "racist" U.S. for so many years as if WE invented or perfected it here.
It's often been pointed out how welcome black soldiers in the world wars were made to feel in open-minded, loving, caring France. That's heartwarming...and all cynicism aside a good thing. It's obviously one thing for the French or any other lily white euro nation to tolerate some black folks as guests...it's obviously another thing to exhibit the same sort of "tolerance" to a huge block of millions of low income immigrant workers from North Africa and their offspring. The fact that these people are largely loyal to a religion that's been in opposition to Frances longterm Christian faith for many centuries has simply GOT to lead to trouble.
ONCE AGAIN, Thee Whiskey Rebel gets to chortle: "BLAME IT ON RELIGION!!"
Of course there's nothing I can personally do about this crisis. I sympathize to some extent with the underdog immigrants who are being trampeled under the arrogant French bootheel.
I can understand how French people whose families have lived there for many generations may start to feeling hostile towards an immigrant population whose little cherubs burn 1,000's of cars and then have the nerve to DEMAND that jobs and opportunities be magically created for them.
I CAN'T UNDERSTAND teen rioters parents who shrug their shoulders helplessly as if there's no way to "discipline" their kids aside from corporal punishment. Hey, if they're old enough to make Molotov cocktails and loot stores the parenting battle's been lost my friends. If you want to help your kids why not sit down with them and make some sort of longterm plan for their FUTURE?? A good start might be to look for a Muslim-friendly nation with JOBS to take you all in...like France so kindly did not all that long ago.
SHIT FUCK, the other thing that bothers me about this mess is all the various media voices of the world trying to put a spin on this that will enhance their private adgenda whatever it may be. Go visit "Yahoo news" from various locations on the globe (there are icons you can click on to do so) and you'll see what I mean.
Sooner or later one thing is for sure...somebody'll find a convenient way to blame it all on the Bush administration...or have they already??
11/08/05 #2
A few random remarks to begin the voyage towards the next 100,000 hits.
Yes, I know it's a paltry number of hits compared to many other websites. We haven't been able to date to find any advertisers (I don't have a clue where to look..UURRPP) and we haven't hired anybody to create pop-up adds on the site that actually cause you to log in several times per visit. We haven't resorted to delivering these cheesy little modest often drunken bits in chunks like many websites..such as:
"To learn whether Thee Whiskey Rebel pooped his pants today click here!"
"The Whiskey Rebel to undergo sex change?? CLICK here!!"
"The Whiskey Rebel's opinion of your Mother's tit rack here.."
The underlying motives of this website are very easy to figure out. We don't bring you here to have you jump through hoops. If you're amused by my rambling you can either 1) email me and tell me so 2) thank me by buying something OR 3) do nothing.
I'm Thee Whiskey Rebel....a Texan by choice..hailing from parts unknown. LIKES: Beer, Whiskey, sometimes wine, sin, a wide range of music, old school pro-wrestling, hardcore wrestling, sex oriented dreams, coke in REAL glass bottles, military history, hardboiled films featuring guys like Lee Marvin, Bob Mitchum etc. and bombshells like Mamie VanDoren, MLB baseball, REVENGE, books (biography's, Westerns, hard-boiled crime fiction, some literature, memoir's from Bukowski to Goad,) serious chess (favorite players Bronstein, Tal, Reti, Korchnoi, Suttles, Alekhine) old commercials from the 50-s-70's. I prefer sleeping in motels to sleeping at home and always have. I enjoy watching brawls that break out in public. My favorite food is szechuan and other Asian styles of cooking. I'm a hedonist by nature...and a skeptic who enjoys making fun privately of other peoples silly causes, faiths, etc. Favorite Philosophers: Anton LaVey, Ayn Rand, Clemens, Blowfly. Favorite spots on earth I've visited: the top of the space needle, Gettysburg, the Presidio in San Francisco, Mt. McKinley, Stonehenge, Las Vegas, Munich's beer halls, the Empire State building, Griffith park, the Alamo, Myrtle beach, the former ECW arena, Santa Anita race track, Wall drug South Dakota.
DISLIKES: micro-spew, dark beers (all), square do-gooders, a wide range of music, soccer, college football & basketball (YECCHHH), school spirit in general, "diva" horseshit polluting wrestling, smarmy cock-sure "humor" from Letterman to Sandler, mainstream TV meant to appeal tonormal people, the whole "ditzy" blonde Paris Hilton (and her imitators) phenomena, whine-rock, organized religions of all types, swaggering jocks. I have little regard for spacey theories that can't be proven ranging from reincarnation to the Mormonic plague. I've lately been annoyed at the increasing numbers of mouthy bar cunts ("M.B.C's" ) who fancy themselves liberated and wild and free but actually are as obnoxius as typical rude males have been for many years. I really loathe fashion. My pet peeve right now is that unshaven & mussed-up hair "scruffy-hunk" look. I hate yuppies, hippies (both old and new) and business-person BUZZ words and phrases. I really, really, hate partisan politics. I'm suspicious of anybody who buys something touted on an infomercial. I hate people who have to obsess on retarded, medicore film series like "Star wars" or "Star Trek" to carve out a niche for themselves. I hate the fucking Simpsons...REALLY. Most of all I hate sourpuss, domineering moralistic types (including YOUR RELATIVES who fit this pattern). I don't dig perverts or cult whacko creeps who manipulate innocent rube kids. Oh yeah, I hate people who start up or join bands just for the experience.
I could keep going on this hate list until next week....hell, next year.
UUUURRRRRRRPP. BBBRRRRRRRRAAAAPPPPPP. PPFFFTTTT.
11/08/05
(UPDATE)
100,000 SERVED INDEED. I passed out about 6:00 a.m...the tense drama of the vigil drove me to drink too heavily. When I awoke I walked straight to the computer and punched up an email from Joel from Fresno, Ca. declaring himself #100,000. He says he passed through here at 7:00 a.m.
Congratulations Joel. Your prize is on the way..
Let's all start planning a big get together at the Stardust in Vegas for the MILLIONTH HIT...I'll get my pal Regis Philbin to host it...and my buddies from Z.Z. Top to entertain; it may be a few years though...UUURRRRPPPPPPPPP.....
*****************
99,989 Hits.......I'm sitting here at 2:00 a.m. waiting for the counter to revolve 11 more times. You know what?? I'm even sure what'll happen when it does; the counter might magically expand to contain 6 digits...or it might not. It might start over again at one...or lock up our computer.
UUUUURRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPP....
I could probably figure out an artificial way to speed things up on my end...but what the fuck..I'll tough it out. I've got plenty of beer and Dixie the cat is planked out by my side (in a death pose paws akimbo flat on his back) and I'll check it now and then as I write this.
I just checked it again...no more hits. HHmmm...that's to be expected. Euro WhiskeyRebel-roos have likely drank themselves to sleep now..and the ones able to maintain jobs are gonna be getting up in a few hours.
It's 3:00 a.m. on the East coast..getting a bit late to get hits from there..but just Midnight in California and Boregon. Maybe a few drunks out there are still capable of logging on and clicking onto their diary bookmark.
Yunno, if I was like some of the many bands out there who START their band website counter well in the tens of thousands to make themselves appear more popular than they are I wouldn't be able to enjoy a moment like this.
Hey, just to make it interesting...WHOMEVER MAKES THE COUNTER TURN TO 100,000...EMAIL ME IMMEDIATELY (whskyreb@centurytel.net) and point it out...and I'll send out some sort of surprise gift commemorating your acheivement.
UUUUUURRRRRPPPP.....
REMEMBER, I'm sitting here waiting....
11/3/05
When I was a child and heard the doorbell in my parents house ring or heard knuckles rapping on the door I'd get excited and rush to answer the door. As a seasoned adult of course, when I here a knock on my door and gaze out the window and see a stranger standing there with a sales kit or a clipboard or a fistfull of brochures I know damn well from many years of experience that it's very, VERY LIKELY that I'm about to be subjected to the individual at the door attempting to impose their will upon me by conning me into either buying a product or contributing to their "cause".
As a result I either ignore the door or answer it with a goodbye wave (and perhaps a single word "NO!") before they even get 5 words out of their mouth. My wave is followed with a prompt slamming of said door in their face.
Hey, if they're a salesperson I know they're up to no good. I worked that racket myself many years ago.
If they represent some sort of group or petition I don't give a rats ass how crucial they think their "cause" is....I don't want any part of it. I resent having my privacy disturbed.
Back in the days when Marla and I sold encyclopedias they described my sort of bad attitude as "door resistance".
The worst door resistance I think I ever personally witnessed was in the State of Montana...a place reknowned for being populated by independant thinking loners many of whom live there because they want to be away from all the bullshit and lies and insanity and cause oriented baloney found in urban centers.
I didn't enjoy having all those doors slammed in MY face years ago, but I've come to appreciate the fact that those folks had a damned clear and refreshing attitude. It's not like I think it's wrong for people to have religious, political and other assorted causes...I think we live in a time period in which there are too many people playing GOD.
There are too many people playing god who consider their group to be JUSTIFIED whatever the fallout from their stunts or demonstrations. Yunno..the old ends justifies the means line.
There are too many single issue voters and a sad trend against compromise or tactfully bowing out when your view is unpopular.
Religious extremists (including terrorists of all faiths) often bring about backlashes against more reasonable advocates of their cause.
Groups devoted to defending the virtue of one particular racial group (any of 'em) are often self-centered, humorless assholes who give their own people a bad image rather than raise awareness.
As a direct result of being harped at by idealists of every stripe for my entire adult life I've been left with little choice; I've got to act out on the behalf of my own "cause". What's that you say??
MY PERSONAL CAUSE is quite clear: ME!!! The advancement and preservation of ME and the people in my circle.
The difference between MY CAUSE and most of those other assholes is plain..I don't WANT to bring people around to a specific mindset. I don't expect that my agnostic, warped views will ever appeal to a majority. I want to be left alone to practice them in peace though. I want to link arms with other antisocial misanthropes who are truely TOLERANT like me and agree that it's important to QUIT PESTERING THE FUCK out of each other.
I couldn't give a rats ass (ohh....sorry for victimizing innocent rodents) whether the neighbors on my street are lefties, righties, etc. We're all pretty good at leaving each other alone. The only trouble comes when some SAP from a do-gooder self righteous group comes around to educate us and lift us up...deliver us from our ignorant Texas ways.
WWWWHHHHHAAAAMMMMMM!!!! That's the sound of thee Whiskey Rebel's door slamming...flattening the nose of some pesky Jehovahs witness or over zealous advocate of the rights of endangered clumps of barely visable stinky fungus stuck under bridges.
Oh look...here comes a couple Mormons in navy blue suits...
WWWWWWHHHHHHHAAAAAAMMMMMM!!!!!
Tickets to the policemans ball???
WWWHHHHAAAMMMMMM!!!!!!
"Hi!!! I'm your local Fuller brush representative..."
WWWWHHHHAAAAMMMMM.
Hello...we're taking signatures for...."
WWWHHHHAAAAMMMMM!!!!!!!
"Hey Mister wanna buy some cookies?"
WWWWWHHHHHAAAAAAMMMMMM!!!!!
FUCK OFF.....ALL of you. I've been pushed too far. One of these days I'm gonna take a barbed wire broom to one of you....keep pushing me and you'll see I'm not bluffing. Once more for ol' Montana.....
WWWWWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHAAAAAMMMMM!!!!!!!!!
11/02/05
HOLY SHIT...these "RANCID VAT vs. the REST of the WORLD" CD's are indeed lovely. They showed up today and I went through my usual ritual of opening the first box and looking at the completed product.
I've lost count of how many times I've done this...60-70 times I guess.
A few releases we've been on have wound up fucked up in minor ways. This 2 CD retrospective came out perfect and I wanna give a tip o' the fifth to Steel cage records.
I can guaran-fucking-T you that we've had hassles with labels over single track compilation tracks that could've and maybe should've lead to pier 6 brawls; not so the case here. The 33 tracks came from many original sources which heightens the percentage of a mistake coming about. To be honest, we'll find a tiny boo boo or glitch or screw up somewhere if we examine it closely enough...but it won't be significant enough to sweat.
25 FUCKING YEARS....33 FUCKING TRACKS..
A lot went into this which I hope even dorks..er, "friends" who don't like our band can recognize. A lot of long hard drunken and high hours were spent in studios in several states over a quartery century. Hundreds of hours were spent of course rehearsing the damned songs and of course we had to write and arrange the blasted things too....UUURRRPPPPPP.
It's a lot easier to write songs these days for me and my end personally..and we're better at learning them now than ever (it must be the gallons of Lone Star beer we all swill).
Later tonight I'll play both CD's back to back in a ceremonial fashion and get smashed while listening to all the songs in order. That's a chunk of time...over 2 hours. Yeah, yeah...I've heard these songs lots of times before...but I still get a fresh kick from listening to all the faint squawks of distortion units and background voices and other audio recording spacejunk which can sometimes give me goosebumps.
I'm shipping out PRAWN-TOE the cd's that some were smart enough to prepay for. For the rest of you, NOWS THE TIME...SEND IN YOUR MONEY. I have a stack of mailers and have sworn a solemn booze-oath to process orders FAST.
I was gonna write about some other crap, maybe later; I want to spend just a few hours fondling these discs. That Stan Stasiak was a handsome fella, wasn't he??
10/27/05
I was reading a batch of comments at a chess discussion website when an idea hit me that could apply to many other discussion forums.
The thread I was reading concerned the top rated player in the U.S. and his public statement yesterday concerning some questionable decisions made by the international chess federation that effected him and some other top players.
There were respectful posts made but also a lot of remarks by mostly anonymous posters that I thought were rude in an unintentional, IGNORANT way. It seems like everybody in discussion groups of all sorts wonder why public figures don't participate in those forums..but when they do they attack every aspect of their life ranging from professional and competitive decisions to alleged personality traits.
How would you react if you were sniped at by "fans" from all directions? Most well known figures have some sort of dark period in their career or life that people seem to have to dredge up; how would you like it if you had to face that sort of crap whenever you sat down to post on a discussion board?
You won't ever have to, because YOU ARE NOBODY. But if you were...how would you react? You probably would bail out and never submit yourself to the scrutiny of morons hiding behind their clever little handles.
Anyway, here's my idea. It's not very practical..but I can dream can't I? I'd like to see one day out of the year in which a panel of experts...PARTICIPANTS in whatever the forum concerns from movies to books to music to chess to badminton to baseball is selected by the webmasters of the world to TURN THE MOTHERFUCKING TABLES for just one day. On this day the "celebs" or "experts" or "creators" would be given folders to study concerning amateur year round posters and their lame efforts in whatever the field of discussion is. For instance, if the subject is bowling the pro's for one day would have a chance to discuss REAL amateur bowlers with their names and leagues disclosed. Besides criticizing their bowling, the pro's would be given free reign to comment on the individuals politics (or lack of), relationships and bad moments both at the bowling alley and away. The average bowler under discussion would be allowed to respond...but then would be subjected to further probes or one liner injoke jabs based on their remarks.
If the subject was politics we could have a day...JUST ONE DAY...that's all I ask...of real live politicians hiding behind handles like "hitlersmustache" or "booshdotter" or "algoresweenie" questioning every aspect both personal and private of the lives of regular anonymous posters who would be "outted" for this one day to be examined under the microscope. Of course comments wouldn't be limited to factually proven matters. The public figures would be able to feel free to accuse the targets of everything from being Klan members to commies..crooked thieves stealing from their places of employment, blah blah blah. Of course nothing would be off limits; it would be considered within the realm of "freedom of speech" to drag the spouse and children of the citizen into the fray.
Remember....the individual under scrutiny wouldn't have any clue exactly who was ripping into them. The public figures identities would be kept secret.
If you were one of the ordinary Joe's being discussed for the day, how would you like knowing that whatever was said about you that day could well be read by your family, friends, co-workers, etc. for an unlimited period of time into the future thanks to the wonders of the internet?
Wouldn't it be cool for just one day...if some pro wrestlers hiding behind fake names raked some slob wrestling fan over the coals?? It'd all be fair game...his or her physical condition, eating habits, past relationships, temper tantrums, bad decisions, drug and alcohol use, etc. etc.
It'd be an especially nice touch if to accompany the day of commentary beside the marks full name and address somebody could post an unflattering photo showing their gut or general unfittness.
So, tell me...if somebody were examined for just ONE DAY by the famous people they run into the ground on a daily basis...would they go back to making statements like..a certain professional baseball player who bats "only" .255 "CAN'T PLAY"?? Would they go back to bitching how certain 6 foot 8 wrestlers "can't wrestle"and therefore "SUCK"??
Would you spend hours joking, bitching, threatening, pissing and moaning on discussion boards about REAL LIVE famous people..if that little shoplifting conviction from your past was posted on a website along with your name and maybe a few references to your Mother??
OK, Forget for the moment yourself being the target of discussion...how would your gossip forum habits change if your name and address were accurately posted alongside your remarks...HHMMMMM??? For the whole world to see????
I wanna know...are you one of the anonymous gutless little punks that have inspired this rant??? Maybe you perceive yourself as lord of the board, but you're fooling yourself. You're a cowardly runt..thats all...nipping at the heels of the movers and shakers.
I bet you squat to piss, too....and your Mother has hallitosis from guzzling so much sailor sperm....UURPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP
10/26/05
Here's a nice new twist on people mistaking "Rancid" for "Rancid Vat". I just received an invite directed to "Rancid" to join some sort of special group on "my space.com" for another huge band I won't name (I got an earlier request by an obvious huge Rancid fan to be "friends..I wasn't surprised). I was going to accept but the music that forced its way into my speakers was somehow toggled so that I couldn't use my "stop" button. I don't fancy being manipulated so I bailed out of netscape and went back into our "space" and deleted it.
Hey Rancid fans...I don't have anything against those guys. For their sake I hope the ouija board spirit who gave us the band name doesn't.
The Chicago White Sox wrapped it up tonight. Congrats.
All I can say about my fellow Texan's the Astro's is that their veteran players have confirmed there place in history as choke artists. Good thing you're pulling down 7 figure salaries fellas...cushions the blow.
I have nothing to say about the controversial WWE Raw segment wherein Vince pulled items out of Jim Ross's "ass". I wasn't even watching. I hope I see indy great Samoa Joe pull some goodies out of his ass some time. That I'll watch.
All this talk of ass croutons reminds me that I'm making up a special batch of meatballs tomorrow. I better go research the recipe at Alton Browns website....UUURRRRRRPPPPPPPPPP......
10/25/05
Humpin' jumpin' Jesus! Yeah, I noticed my error reading my counter on this page...I thought it was about to turn over to 6 digits and wrote a lengthy hoo hah about it...but so what. It'll still be flipping over in a week or so.
If I was one of those big assed oft quoted influential political blog meisters there might be a scandal....but hell...UUUUURRRRRRRPPPPPPPP!! Around here we laugh when we pull a fucking boner and crank open beers to celebrate.
I want to point out here and now how goddamned funny an 80's film that's been on the top of my want list for years is upon finally owning a VHS copy and watching it many a time.
It's a polka humor schtick epic known as "the Shmenges" starring (and written and produced by) two of my favorite comedians of all time: the late great John Candy and Eugene Levy. These guys tried the bit out on SCTV..which was the lesser known but by far superior "competitor" to that hippie mentality, overworked catchphrase oriented hit or miss show Saturday night live.
SNL had it's moments...I suppose...but SCTV was the REAL SHIT.
John Candy was truly the 80's incarnation of rotund funnyman Fatty Arbuckle. His characters on the TV show such as "Johnny LaRue" were enough alone to tip the scales in the direction of SCTV. Yeah, Belushi and Akroyd and some of the other over the years had their moments I guess....but SCTV steered clear of the trends and the post-hippie smarmy Letterman hogwash style of humor that makes SNL impossible to watch both these days and back then for me. It didn't age well...and SCTV is timeless. Johnny LaRue's "speed drinking" skit always leads to us Irwins rolling on the floor laughing knowing damned good and well it was the sort of bit that went over the head of the passive hippies. Belushi could've pulled it off...but he was too wasted to revolt and break out of his catch phrase straight jacket.
Have you seen the classic SCTV "Sammy maudlin show"?? My god..those Canadians understood those boozing rat-pack generation types...in a way that went over the heads of most SNL viewers.
Eugene Levy recently co-starred in a buddy film with Sam Jackson that I'd like to see. The reviews on the net that I read seem to be totally in the dark about Levy's versatility and talent. That doesn't surprise me of course.
Check out his swinging but uber-disgusting charachter from the "Sammy maudlin" show Bobby Bittman. He also played cross-eyed septuagenarian "Sid Dithers" and the uncool "cool" host of a teen dance show "Mel's Rockpile".
Belushi and Akroyd's "Blues Brothers" film was really without doubt one of the great funny films of our time (uuhh..let's not forget that Candy appeared in it too). It received all the acolades it deserved.
"The Shmenges..last Polka" received little attention comparatively speaking...but it hangs in there very well with the Blues Brothers and makes mincemeat out of any other SNL alumni film I can think of.
Candy and Levy play Yosh and Stan Shmenge...the leaders of a Brother polka act who within the confines of the film stage a gala final performance loosely based on "the Bands" 3 night star studded Last Waltz.
My 3rd going on 4th year theatre degree seeking son sums the film up by saying that it achieves the near impossible goal of appearing to be a documentary of a couple polka guys from eastern Europe as opposed to being a film about two guys PLAYING a polka duo. They used a broad range of old cameras and film developement affects to follow their career dating from the early 50's up to the mid 80's. Lots of touched up photos and b&W shots worked in. The result is a movie that is pleasing to our drunken eyes...holds our attention and steers totally clear of cheap yuks from overworked catchphrases.
Levy's charachter looks like an accordian playing Jewish version of Porter Wagoner; Candy's looks like a grinning, tubby buffoon wailing on a clarinet (convincingly) selling the hoaky lyrics to polka numbers.
I should point out, I enjoy polka music; it's a pure form of bouncy drinking music. Yeah, that's what it's about...SIMPLE BLUE COLLAR PEOPLE with cabbage rolls and sausage on their breath SUCKING KEGS DRY. No politics...no smarmy Letterman style sarcasm with the usual acceptable targets being ridiculed.
The audience for the live music portion of the film seems to contain a handful of ringers...but also a large number of older people who seem to be 1) convinced these guys are the real deal and 2) exactly the type of normal everyday folks you USED TO see at wrestling cards 20 years ago.
The boys spoof "modern" rock and roll by attempting to tap into the Michael Jackson youth market dressing up like him and doing a polka "moon walk". Also, to give the finger to long winded obligatory arena rock bass solo's..they slink offstage as their tuba player goes into a self indulgent workout...HAH!!
It's pretty damned funny from start to finish....and if you see a copy you'd better get it.
10/23/05
100,000 DIARY HITS....22,960 beers and 1640 shots of whiskey!!!!
Some time before noon tomorrow my happy little counter will crank over into it's 6th display digit. that'll mean yep....100,000 legit hits since this diary began. I figure in the same period of time I've poured down 22,960 beers (give or take a few) and washed down perhaps 1,640 shots.
Probably 20% or so of those have been washed down while I'm sitting here in front of our Imac in my swivle chair starting out in Philly, turning up next at the apartment we lived in for several months and finally here in our house on Ranch Road 12. Most of its been tapped out in the middle of the night. My companions have been a small ceramic turtle, a plastic pig and except for a year long period of absence from his perch with the other guys ontop of the monitor a duck with a chipped beak that spins drunkenly. This is the Whiskey Rebel diary crew. Oh yeah; there's also been occasional visits by our cat Mr. Jinx ("Elvis's cat") and our black, antisocial moody goth cat Dixie who has payed me a visit during likely 90% of my sit down diary sessions.
I don't need or want human contact when I'm sitting here...I want alcohol and a few chilidish little hunks of bric a brac.
I haven't actually gone over the now huge archive of entries ever. I searched out a few pieces for a couple readings a couple times...and I've used maybe 3 or 4 of the more substantial ones as the basis for expanded columns for AMP magazine when their deadline has found me without a fresh topic.
When I started this diary up I wanted to give people a reason to visit our website more often. My inspiration was the diary of Bill Nelson whose music I've been following on and off for 30 years. Over the years a zillion "blogs" have popped up many of them dedicated to politics in a serious way and many of them just serving as a cyberspace blather fest for lonely people with either real or imagined writing talents.
Nobody has to come visit me and sit me down to break the news to me that some of my entrys over the years have been valueless hogwash. I've ranted when I was so drunk I could barely post the damn frigging thing to our website. Believe it or not, I've always left these bits up the next day and in a few cases sat down to write something of more substance.
But really...WHAT THE FUCK IS SUBSTANCE??
If I chit chat about the wrestling scene for a page or two it may be worthless to non-wrestling fans...but it sure as hell can entertain diehard squared circle fans who can't get enough of that sort of thing.
When I've written drunken "cute cat" observations it may make some folks (even myself the next day) want to puke...but it's the highlight of this website for others. When I've expressed political opinions (and believe me..I HATE politics) I've likely turned off a few long term readers...well, so what?? One of my favorite targets is organized religions; I can picture some of the faithful (and believe me..I know LOTS of you are christers or meditators) being very disturbed by what I have to say.
Well, what can I say?? THEE WHISKEY REBEL DIARY IS NOT PINK TEA..AND MOLLYCODDLES SHOULD ENTER WITH CAUTION.
I'm not here to play games; I'm not polishing up these prescious little essays to enter them in some damned writers workshop contest. If that's what your blog is all about, MORE POWER TO YA. Me, I'm into my own opinions by god! What's the point of a free and open opinionated rant log if you're always tap dancing around your true beliefs??
I've heard that some people are disgusted by graphic descriptions of my bowel movements here; well, so be it. I'm not surprised. I haven't written MORE OR LESS about my daily fecal fests faced with that reality.
That doesn't make me brave or stubborn...I just don't care. If I had to worry about what people whom I know or dont know thought of what I write here...it wouldn't be fun.
A man (or woman) should have the basic right to stroll around his own home in his shorts or butt naked if there aren't kids around. Likewise, a man (or woman) has the inherent right to either distinguish his or her self intellectually speaking in their internet journal...or blather total nonsense if they so desire.
Again, I'm not trying to pretend to be some sort of brave freedom of speech advocate here; I'm just using my personal brand of common sense.
The worst and maybe only bad result that actually gets to me in reaction to what I lay down here in my sometimes serious sometimes drunk and silly fashion is when somebody I know takes a vague comment I make about a large pool of people I know or a way of thought in general and perceives it as some sort of smarmy blind attack upon them. This especially applies in my opinion to musicians I know. I'm fairly confident that there've been a few times somebody from a band I didn't have in mind at all took some sweeping critical remark personally without actual reason.
I think some friends from bands I like have wondered what my problem is when I don't write more about their band. Over the last couple years I've hesitated writing anything about friends bands except in special situations as a result. I guess it's a weakness on my part that I just don't cut loose and say to hell with possibly hurting somebodys feelings over their band...but that's whats come about.
This is as good a time as any to say right here publicly: If you know me personally and I've written something vague that you suspect applies to you or friends of yours and are hacked off about it....READ IT OVER AGAIN SLOWLY....and think of how my comments may apply to an awful lot of other people and NOT you or your friends.
Also, this isn't a local gossip column. When I've dragged friends into the fray here (like Mark the alleged "pants shitter" for instance) it's meant as a jolly tip of the fifth to them and anecdotes concerning them are related in fun. Some of you may be happy to know I have to face Mrs. Irwin every time I write here about her longterm Japanese paramour...or her death futon she tried to kill me with. Elvis is so used to me writing about him in books and columns and diary entries his reaction has been just to NEVER BOTHER TO READ THE SHIT. That's my payback. He still has never read the books he's a charachter in. OH WELL.
There actually are limits to what I will write here about people ranging from actual relatives to former bandmembers you may think I have a beef with. I've pledged to some (but not all) of my discovered blood relations that I wouldn't write about them anywhere..period. I was never asked to...I just thought it was a polite thing to do as part of getting to know them. I try to point out these limitations from time to time. My background is like a big goddamned out of control soap opera. You've only read bits and pieces here. There are truths about my background that would amaze you if you are favorably disposed to me. If you hate me anyway...you'd just be even more bored of course to hear it.
I'm not here to use this space to spew out vitriol about personal acquantances; that's business that's better solved in private. On the rare occasions I've done that (and there have been a few) I've been responding to an attack by somebody usually on another website. I'd rather do it here using my homecourt "advantage" when faced with guff from some coward hiding behind a secret handle. Shove your little anonymous flame war remarks up your ass.
One of the satisfying aspects of this diary I didn't envision is having space to lament the death of somebody I've respected. It feels very good to publicly salute these folks and maybe point out their greatness to people who should know but don't.
That's a lead in to point out the loss of another great wrestler over the weekend...the original CRUSHER...Reggie Lisowski. Wasn't he cool?? Happily he inspired 40 years ago one of the best wrestling songs of alltime recorded by the Nova's. The Cramps recorded it...Rancid Vat recorded it. It's one of my favorite dances: "DO THE HAMMERLOCK YOU TURKEYNECKS!!"....here goes a shot in his honor...UUUUUUUUUURPPPPPPPPP.
10/22/05
I watched "Saturday night fever" in its entirety tonight. I think it goes without saying that I've never been into disco dancing for even 5 minutes of my life..but the movie is fun to watch these days whereas when it came out in 1977 you couldn't have dragged me to the theater without slipping something in my drink to render me unconscious.
This is the normal course of things. I remember ol' Uncle Anton LaVey making the same point in relation to some old songs. The essence of music and films changes over time. A lot of people took the fashion and look and dance style from that movie to heart and went crazy with it. Millions of them began to hang out at trendy disco's in their own hometowns. In Portland we had several big ones.."Earthquake Ethels" being a massive one near where I grew up.
Hey,, some people will do anything to get a piece of ass...right?
I won't name names..but a certain early singer from our band could be found on the sidelines looking for some available snatch.
Of course other people reacted oppositely. There were disco record burnings sponsored by hard rock radio stations and scores of "disco sucks" message songs.
By the mid 80's, Marla's parents and groups of seniors across the nation were all learning how much fun it was to "shake their booty" on the dance floor; of course that was disco's moment of death in most places. Earthquake Ethel's went from being a hot disco you had to wait in line to enter to being a vacant...and eventually bulldozed relic.
It didn't die everywhere though. When we lived off of "two street" in Philly near a dozen mummer clubhouses we'd hear those locals booming ancient disco hits through huge loud speakers when their party spilled outside. They were a ham fisted and burley crew for the most part...and I have to give them credit for hanging on to sounds much of the rest of the world has been plugging it's collective nose at for a quarter century. If they enjoy it, they should go ahead and play it loud as fuck...since I'm no longer within hearing range when they do.
Marla and I watched the dance scenes very seriously in "fever". In retrospect you can see distinct elements of both ballroom style dancing from earlier on AND catch a whiff of what was to come dance wise 15 years down the road "country line dancing". We felt like a couple social archaeologists on a pop culture "dig". I honestly think I'd rather watch snuff films on mushrooms or footage of autopsies or limbs being twisted off whole or nazi's making lampshades out of skin or even attend a Billy Joel concert and be seated in the first row than actually have to see the expressions on the faces of REAL LIVE disco dancers up close in a trendy exclusive club.
Isn't it more natural to picture your Mom and Dad screwing..all giddy and sweaty...than seeing them wearing dorky clothing mimicking some stupid ass movie like a couple brainless rubes?? Yunno...the little finger shooting up into the sky at just the right moment??
Since most of you are too young to remember, Thee Whiskey Rebel is here to let you know..he DID see "disco dancing" in person in the 70's...and most of the dancers FUCKING SUCKED...just like you may have suspected. Just like the later urban cowboy craze brought out hordes of newbies in too clean jeans and hats and boots, disco's attracted lots of embarassing squares who came out clad in the silliest leisure suits imaginable in order to "fit in".
What's that??? You wonder where it was that I saw disco dancing up close if I wasn't perusing the club scene back then?? The answer is simple. Marla and I went through a brief year long or so attempt early in our marriage at trying to be "normal" and respectable". Never godly, but otherwise in the pattern of our parents. Our experiment failed of course. We were pretty shitty at being normal. We haven't tried again since then. We'd dress up and go out to dinner at nice places like "Alioto's" in San Francisco or Trader Vic's or the Benihana of Tokyo steakhouse in Portland. Our respectable travels lead us all over the west coast. We felt at home in hotel lounges since we courted on the road selling encyclopedias door to door and hung out with both each other and lots of other sales clowns working for our company. I still feel a bit nostalgic when I enter a Holiday Inn lounge (we once drank in the one in Glendale the week they shot scenes from the "Blues Brothers" film there). You didn't have to wait in line to pass muster for some snotty pinprick door man at an elite club if you had "boogie fever". Half the bars in town began booking D.J.'s and adding lighted floor panels. We saw our fill of disco dancing back in the day...BELIEVE ME.
Everytime we found ourselves in one of those boogie palaces we'd see at least a dozen clueless, potbellied shoe salesman-from-Ohio types sporting hair pieces shaking their lard clad in polyester shirts and pastel leisure suits with cheesy Florsheim half boots on their clumsy hooves.
I never got into dancing. It was forbidden to me as a kid for openers along with movies, playing cards, etc. because of my parents nutty church. I was one of those pathetic cubes that had to sit out dance class along with Jehovah's witness kids and other unfortunates. I was teased and humiliated over it. I guess I should've ran for the nearest dance club when I was old enough to...since I've taken great glee in boozing and smoking and drugging and poker playing and all the other forbidden vices. But, it didn't happen. I danced a few times drunkenly in lounges before I was married in a lecherous clinch whenever possible. I've danced like a drunken knucklehead at wedding receptions...if I went to one tomorrow I likely would. Once when Mike McNally and I happened upon one of the worlds best rockabilly bands in a club I was asked to dance (once) and did so maybe just to flabbergast him. The day after 9/11 when we went to a club to see some hot country musicians I danced a couple times with Jimmy Satan's gal..mostly to shock everybody there I knew who thought it was a real mindblower to see me dance.
In Texas, at country/rockabilly venues everybody dances...and it's done in a friendly, amateurish way. If I'm drunk and having a good time and you're a female young enough to be my Daughter or saucy enough to take the challenge you just may be able to drag me out on the dance floor (well, no slow lecherous stuff unfortunately).
Marla danced quite a bit....before she was saddled with me. I had to hear all sorts of story's when we were first together about smooth dancers she'd cut a rug with. She won't dance with me nowdays though. If she did dance it'd be with some young stud or maybe Blowfly or Bowie. The days are long gone since I'd get jealous over a dance.
BUT!!! You won't see either of us on the floor if the D.J. is spinning the Bee Gee's or Donna Summer or Alicia Bridges (unless Marla just wants to toy with what is left of my brain that is).
Saturday Night Fever isn't the worst movie I've seen outside of the dance scenes. John Travolta won me over with his role in "pulp fiction". I think he did a helluva job portraying a bonehead Italian type in the film. I doubt that Brooklyn locals have changed all that much over the years...and they're by all accounts very similar to South Philly neighborhood types.
I like "boneheads" who strive to make some sort of pleasant life for themselves just like I enjoy it when eggheads work up the balls to go out to "neighborhood" bars and let their hair down and drop their silly judgement of blue collar people.
The gist of S.N.F. seemed to be a sort of coming of age of the Travolta charachter; the neighborhood no longer had anything for him. If he was going to use his dance talents he'd need to move into the city. He decides to just as the final credits roll.
I left Portland because there was nothing left there for me that I wanted outside of a few good friends. It wasn't so much about artsy things like music or writing...it was hard to continue to live around people who got so into the breast beating localism...people who couldn't fathom why anybody wouldn't be a frigging Trailblazer fan or read the same worthless newspaper self-regaling the city as some sort of modern day "Zenith". The city banned happy hour, one by one all the good old bars turned into brightly lit havens for trendy alternative musicians and the wrestling promotion (one of the best anywhere) folded. My pal Jim Goad..a brilliant writer and swell pal...was voted the biggest heel in the city (or something like that) by a trendy newspaper...why should I stay in a shithole like that??
That's the conclusion that Tony Marinara (Marinaro, Macaroni.. Macareena??) comes to in Saturday Night Fever. His charachter may not have gone to college, but he's heard predicting that the dance scene as it was won't last. He sort of loves his pals and will back them up in a brawl but their way of having a good time is no longer his cup of tea. The scene in which he realizes that it was a rigged judgement when he and his partner win the 1st dance prize..a WORK because he's a local Italian boy...is perfect. With the evidently infectious strains of "stayin' alive" perking along to guide his step, he drags his partner across the room and hands the Puerto Rican couple (who he knows danced better) the trophy they rightfully should have won.
That was a good move, Tony. Leave that burg behind you. Start referring to yourself as from "parts unknown" like Thee Whiskey Rebel does, pal...and a helluva lot of fine wrestlers over the years too.
Go bite the big apple...DON'T MIND THE MAGGOTS.
Some people are happy as a fly flopping around in a glass of ovaltine in their hometowns and neighborhhods. Good for you! I raise my glass. Don't leave...ever. Rarely vacation...fine and dandy.
Others never figure out a way to come to grips with their home towns. Dean Martin rarely got misty eyed over Stuebenville Ohio. Sinclair Lewis was hung in effigy in his home town!! Sam Clemens home town had a love-hate thing with him. Jimi Hendrix was almost totally ignored by Seattle Washington until about a quarter century after his death. Johnny Ray is still shunned by the State of Oregon and his hometown (Dallas I believe) down in the Willamette valley about 40 miles from where I grew up.
I'm a nobody...and Tony Marinaro (if there is somebody the film was based on) was just a guy who shook his fanny and won some dance contests in his neighborhood..but we both had to get the fuck out. So, I kinda like him becasue he would've understood.
UUUUUUURRRRRPPPPPPPPPP
10/20/05
Goddamn, I was longwinded the last entry about the new CD...but people pepper me with questions about it...may as well say it all once and get on to something else.
A lot of people who are in bands for 3 months or 3 years or 10 years or whatever look down their noses at people who aren't. That's a huge crock of shit.
The last 20 years there's been an ugly outbreak of people feeling the neccessity to be in a band as some sort of lark or form of "expression". The problem is that most of the bands..I mean like 98% probably don't do anything more than fill in slots at clubs booked for them by friends of theirs who are little power hungry assholes. They don't do anything more than play the same sort of uninspired dreck in the usual patterns but feel giddy about it. Whatever and whomever the "slacker" generation is supposed to be have clogged the clubs with FUCKING DRIVEL. The generation a bit younger than them has gone about forming bands in a cookie cutter step-by-step fashion doing all the things bands are supposed to do on the appointed date...FUCK!! Let's hope a generation comes along that thinks its cool to NOT be in a band..and to have NEVER considered it.
If you've never been lured into playing in a band and you're between the ages of say 15-35...GOOD FOR YOU!! IF YOU LOVE MUSIC, steer clear of being another clown in a by-the-numbers band that the world doesn't need.
Isn't it about time there was a massive number of young people who got into photography, or painting, or home made porn...or crocheting or baking pies or hatchet tossing or pitching horse shoes or bringing back shuffleboard??
When will a generation come along and finally laugh off the worlds stage talentless and useless spoiled rich pop culture figures like Paris Hilton??? When is a generation going to finally going to collectively give the Bronx cheer to self appointed but truly mindless religious, racial and political "experts" ranging from Al Sharpton to Madonna??
I hope I'm around to see it when a wave of young people comes along and gives the fucking bums rush to the constant onslaught of useless and annoying and unsolicited CRAP we're bombarded with in this wonderful computer age: SPAM, SPAM SPAM SPAM SPAM...UP THE ASS.....RIPOFF INFO-MERCIALS on 90% of cable channels all night late night...the notion that all the useless litigation is somehow justifiable.....and the constant replay OVER and OVER and OVER and OVER of the same horseshit softrock crap night and day in anytown USA.
I wanna still be alive and kicking when a generation comes along that is able to create and INSIST upon films that aren't just spinoffs or remakes. Most of my life I've been waiting for the "next big thing" musically.....it never happened. Original music is being made all the time...but it's usually ignored in favor of the same old shit. Pop music has been deader than Grandpa's dick for 10 years at least.
No wonder the smartest people I know search in the PAST for the best music.
Anyway, being in a heel band that knows how lame everybody else is (with few exceptions) has never become popular...so we continue....with our negative double thumbs down to humanity "message" intact. UUUURRRRRRPPPPPPPPP.
10/17/05
THE 1st and MOST ACCURATE REVIEW "RANCID VAT vs. the REST OF THE WORLD" (release date 10/31) will ever receive.
It's the 1st, because it's not quite back from the pressing plant yet...and it's the most accurate because I understand the material better than anybody considering that I played on all of the songs, wrote or co-wrote a huge hunk of 'em, I know the lyrics to them all and have no biased historical preference for any of our bands lineups over the years. I'm a veteran reviewer and have observed reviewers at work dating back to Lester Bangs. Other reviewers can and will offer their personal perspective..more power to em...UUUURRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPP.
I'm gonna go through the entire 33 song aural extravaganza; if you're considering buying it...I may tip the scales one way or another for you. If you doubt you will or hate our music why don't you log off and go put your weiner to use in a knot hole in yer back fence...preferably one with lots of slivers to give you a home made custom piercing. Or better yet, why don't you go pop in a cd for the 172nd time by whatever goddamned band you're so stuck on like a little baby sucking on Mama's buppie you can't squeeze another band into your narrow little frame of reference??
I picked these songs out for inclusion personally and stayed up listening to proto-type cassette tapes all night and until noon the next day on 3 or 4 drunken and bleary occasions. Our guitar player and pal Mark can vouch for that. I sat him down to listen to these tapes a couple times and drank with him using him as a guinea pig (THANKS by the way Mark). I just wanted to see how somebody else reacted to the flow of the songs who didn't feel compelled to either sit there and kiss ass and rip into it all either.
You people in bands should pop a few tops and study my strategy for your own use in the future...unless you just give up when you hear how good WE'VE been the last 25 years.
I came into the project knowing we have 3 types of R.V. fans.."disc 1" fans..who know the old stuff is collectable on vinyl and like older stuff because either they were there or they wish they were. Then there's "disc 2" types...more recent fans who got into our stuff since we've been in Texas or Philly. There is a small but supremely classly group of "both disc" fans who like it all already. I'm knocking back a shot for them now.
I wanted to get the listeners to drop their predjudices about the phase of the band they have predispositions about long enough to give it a few shots and realize it's all the same band with the same purpose: insulting the human race in every way we could conceive.
I decided to only select well recorded studio material and not include any live stuff or raw home recordings. I also worked hard to pick no more than a few songs from any full length release. Why?? That increases the chances more people will be getting more songs they don't already have.
I was able to do that without any problem.
The material is NOT in chronological order within the 2 discs. Disc 1 is all Portland era material sung by Steve Wilson. Disc 2 is post-Portland. I realized when I had chosen the final song order that the 2 discs actually intersect in a mysterious and magically disgusting way I'll point out when we get to it.
Disc 1 starts off not with the oldest songs, but with a solid batch of songs from our well produced (by Greg Sage), rocking and I have always been told surprisingly melodic LP "Burger Belsen". Track 1) "lonely at the bottom baby"...which was the time proven leadoff song for that LP. A song about what it feels like to be despised in a comical way. Track 2) "low blow"..a wrestling song that is short and catchy. Track 3) "trouble"...a cover of a song performed by both Elvis P. and Jerry Lawler to name just 2. There's a guitar battle between Greg Sage and Pig Champion in this track. Track 4) "guest list"...an early track that rips into mooch music scene twerps. Track 5) "larger than life"...a loving tribute to Johnny Wadd "X-rated god". The chords are Chuck Berry/ Johnny Thunders-ish. Track 6) "premature ejaculator" a filthy putdown of swinging pickup joint nitwits that paralells Antiseen's "meat market" in a totally unforeseen way. We leap BACKWARDS a couple years at this point to..Track 7) "most likely to"..a duet between Steve Wilson and Marla singing about the ultimate fate of all the popular fucks you hated in high school....one of our best for sure. Track 8) is from the same "profiles in pain" e.p. (which sells for $50-$80 bucks or so) "when the roll is called down under". It's one of my best guitar moments...I stole a trick from a rockabilly song and burned up the fretboard of a vintage mozrite guitar we sold soon after. The pace is Cramps-ish..the words nihilistic. Suddenly, the disc leaps back to our 1st LP..the highly collectable and creative but uhh...."raw" Stampeding Cattle". The songs I chose blend in well when set up by the earlier songs. They're the two "tightest" selections..Track 9) "ballad of Brigham Young" which was reviewed as one of the filthiest songs in RNR history and Track 10) "puke on my face" in which we are treated to Mr. Wilson barfing doubled over after contemplating our local Portland entertainment scene. Oddly enough, the production on these 2 older numbers holds up well after some professional re-mastering especially. It's my goal for "disc 2" neanderthal's to say something like.."hey, this stuff isn't so bad...load up the bong ..and lets here it again". Track 11) leaps forward to our post L.A. /Seattle adventures..the anthem "it's my fate (to be great)". It's loaded with bragadoccio...and I even play a new chord I learned by the late 80's. The song is cocky as fuck..and deserves to be covered by a few bands. Track 12) is "born to lose"...a 24 track recording for a tribute double 7" Thunders trib that's been touted by enough reviewers as one of our best songs that I don't need to crow any further. Well, maybe I will just for fun...all 4 band members kick ass..it's really good rock and roll. Track 13) "the Competition stinks" was supposed to be the title track of a Euro CD/LP...it's relatively unknown. It's got to be one of the most arrogant songs EVER. The production is some of the best we've ever achieved. Track 14) "apathy" is from the same session. It's large and romping..and comically uhh.."apathetic". We completed the mixdown by running the recording tape right off the frigging reel. Man, oh fucking man...we were LOADED...we being Marla and I and Mike Lastra our recording studio pal when we mixed the stuff from this entire final half of the disc. WIPED...but we worked carefully and played back the songs on multiple sets of speakers. Track 15) is the version of "H.H.H.H." from our 1st split with the boys from Brutalsville..Antiseen. It's NOT the widely heard live version. It's a grisly tale of a traffic accident caused by a potential sex conquest who suffers from a migraine...H.H.H.H. stands for "headaches and heartaches..hard-ons and headon's". Track 16) is one of our cover songs that has a life of it's own "Cracked actor" from our "Bowiecide" 7". It's featured on Bowie tribute websites often pictured next to Duran Duran and other commercial acts who love the ol' "thin white Duke". The production on this track is absolutely crammed full of every weird effect we had at hand. Wilson's vocal is priceless...I bet Bowie busted a gut over this tune. Track 17) "baptized in blood" is from "Rancid Vat Justice"...a clear vinyl 12" that sold faster than any other release we've ever had thanks to the fact that the nearby Seattle grunge horseshit was taking off. The musicians included our old buddies Ace and Ann from L.A...recorded in the late 80's when all the hardcore bands were taking either the speedmetal or stooges routes, it's the fastest stuff we've ever recorded..just so we could go against the grain I guess. "Justice" has never seen the light of day on CD....until now. Track 18) "destroy nature" is an epic that not only takes the following position about nature (you'll have to decide whether it was tongue in cheek or not) "what GOOD is it..if it's not earning us a profit?". Ace's 8 string bass guides the drums and about a dozen spacey floating guitar tracks in a "Hawkwind on cheap lager" direction. It's 8 minutes...and will be enjoyed by heavy pot smokers for sure. A guest guitar spot was provided by Captain Beefhearts final guitar player the "Reverend Toadeater". Ok, OK....this track is pretty wild..but it's got a fast couple parts....one reviewer said it bordered on an insane psychedelic/classical sonnet. Either way, as the one and only long-winded noise-fest on the disc it fittingly ends our West-coast phase..with a final nuclear explosion ominously concocted in the studio.
HEY>>>>>> GET UP AND STRETCH...get more intoxicants..time for Disc 2.
Track 1) "cosmic astro-boogie". The beginning of our Philly phase...a sort of theme song and intro for our next singer Thee Cosmic commander of wrestling. NOW HERE'S the strange "intersection" I mentioned..the cosmic balancing of the two discs that show that it really is the same old band. Cosmo's harmonica playing is impossible to tell apart from Wilson's on the Disc 1 Bowie cover...check it out..you'll be AMAZED. It was totally unplanned. Track 2) "Hostile city USA" is a snappy 3 chorder that is one of our most beloved songs...OF COURSE. ECW references, you can't miss with this one. Track 3) "loser leave town"...another perennial crowd pleaser that HAD to be included. Track 4) is a cover of Hank Sr's "why don't you love me??"...catchy and spirited. Originally released on a super rare split from Germany with our pals Born Bavarian. Track 5) "eat hot lead" is another cover..this time of a song by the immortal Puke Spit & Guts...some true pioneers in our deliberately obnoxius sub-genre. The lyrics (not PS&G's word for word by a long shot) run down Jews, white trash and blacks in turn...but sensitive types only hear the words they want to hear and a couple boobs who should know better assumed the worst when this came out on our epic "darkest souls in rock and roll" release. Well, FUCK "EM no matter what race or religion they are...we HATE 'EM ALL!! Track 6) "rulebreakers rule"...we had a mid-80's e.p. of course by this name, but this song wasn't written until 10 years later. It's more crowing and bragging about the Rancid Vat legacy!! A veritable HISTORY lesson. Track 7) "rock and roll fraud"..this is a lesser heard studio version from a compilation that went out of print quickly. We call out ALL the fucking frauds and suggest that they "be a man break up your band!". Track 8) "dead babies"..what can I say...an insensitive Alice Cooper band cover. Believe it or not we were a 4 piece at the time and we covered all the parts thanks to our great, immense talents. I suggest "disc 1" types who think we're nothing but boneheads now give it a listen...hey, we're boneheads with BRAINS. Track 9) "Hot and nasty"..a barnburner of a Black Oak Arkansas number; Mr. Perfect and I layed down more rhythm section FUNK than anyone imagined we lilywhite dudes could. To end the Philly segmentI decided we should go back and slap on the flip side of the Hostile city USA 7" Beauregarde's "Testify"as Track 10). We've released I think 4 or 5 versions of this of course over the years. You've gotta like it..or you're a piece of crap essentially. It's a stirring anthem.
We next switch to recordings from our home here in the lovely Lone Star State. Track 11) is the Italian 7" only mix of "Strychnine" which features our temporary crooner Elvis Rotten (Marla and I's sweet son). It's different from the version on our "we hate you all the way from Texas" cd with the Texas stud singing. Lo and behold Track 12) is indeed "we hate you all the way from Texas"...a musical postcard delivered with upraised fingers abounding. Track 13) is "nature boy"..our epic tribute to Ric Flair himself.....WWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! Track 14) is a totally unreleased tune "tears and heartbreak" which is a mean spirited post-mating ritual ditty. This song and the next one features our current hot lineup of Bobo, thee Texas Stud, Mark Von Diehl, Marla and I. Track 15) ends the 2 cd journey with an ode to the darkside "say you love satan" that proves we haven't learned to "get along" over the years. The final word is had by ME..on the "enhanced" portion of the disc. It's a 6 minute special message taped at my official throneside as i boozily reflect on just what it means to be in a goddamned band for 25 FUCKING YEARS.
That's it. I hope you enjoy it as much as we've enjoyed pissing off folks for the first quarter century. UUUURRRRRRPPPPPPPPP. If you don't...eat hot lead baby.
10/15/05
CHESS, BASEBALL, LIFE, etc.
All these things relate to one another. I've got my share of problems these days...it's been a BAD fucking year. Sometimes I've felt like not getting out of bed at all until something really good happens worth getting up over.
I don't want to sound like some sickening optimist, but the truth is that sometimes horrid years are follwed by good ones in which things fall into your lap; I can't say I've experienced much of that, but things can improve if you survive or make an extra effort even if things are closing in on you.
This is the sticky sweet truth...even though I don't want to recognize it a lot of the time.
Example: I just got done watching a chess game on the internet between a "fide" (world chess federation) rated master..a former State champion who I played in the early 80's. About the 6th move of our game back then he was so sure he'd knock me off quickly that he and a pal (who is now an international master and widely respected author of historic chess books) were obviously discussing in the hallway their plans for the night...after I was made mincemeat of. I overheard a little bit of it...I can't say I was insulted. It's part of the game that a player who is an established master will make quick work of a class "A" player like me. We exchanged Queens in the opening..he was confident he'd whack me good in the endgame..no reason not to simplify matters, eh?? Especially if you're just itching to hit the bars or strip clubs of lovely Seattle.
Much to his chagrin, I hung in there doggedly and didn't screw up. I wound up ahead a pawn in fact. The game lasted a LOONNNNGGGG time...he finally had to agree to a draw...the evening spoiled for the most part at the very least shortened. Well, that's chess.
The guy was cool about it.
His game tonight was against another player close to his level. He was ahead a pawn in an endgame game in which they each had 15 minutes for all their moves...plenty of time to play without making major blunders..a REAL game although quick. He wound up with a Queen, King and 4 pawns again a dead lost opponent with a Queen, King and 1 meager pawn. The guy who was behind kept trying to lure my old foe into cheap traps born of desperation. Finally, with only a 30 seconds left on his clock the guy who was losing baited a trap to win the obvious soon to be victors Queen....and whattya know...the guy FELL for it! A goddamned master for 25 years dropping his Queen when he was ahead on material and time. SHIT!!
I always groan when somebody yammers out the cliche "you don't win by giving up"...but really, sometimes it's the only thing that keeps competitors going in the face of doom.
BASEBALL: Uh, Yankee's / Red Sox in the playoffs last season...3 games down the Red Sox did the impossible. As far as an individual effort in the face of certain loss....let's look at good old Ty Cobb..one of my favorite players of all time.
If you were standing on 2nd base to tag Mr. Cobb out with a 3 second lead on him even...you'd be a bloody fucking fool to think he was going to go down easily. If he was going to be tagged out he'd come sliding in with his razor sharpened cleats pointed at some part of your anatomy. In the face of adversity he didn't give up...and he often wound up either scaring the fuck out of his opponent and causing an error or at the very least giving him a nice bloody wound that might make him think twice the next time.
It's been such a piss poor year that I wish I had somebody in my life who could sit me down and lecture me to hang in there and be stubborn. I don't at this point of my life...so I have to be my own coach when it comes to survival pep talks. I guess that's why you're reading this here. I don't get off on talking into the mirror or chanting or praying. I DRINK...and look for connections between seemingly unrelated things.
All you studs who think chess is for sissy's better wake up and realize it's got more in common with boxing or baseball or other man to man forms of legalized war than dorky boardgames.
Remember the kid portrayed in the film "searching for Bobby Fischer"??
He went on to become a titled player and chess pro for a while. His next pursuit was one of the most viscious forms of martial arts. He won a world championship in a sport dominated by Asians riddled with painful injuries and in the face of totally corrupt referees. He kept slugging and slugging away and maintained his cool...and suddenly things clicked for him and he went home the victor.
Hey, to my enemies I still say: GIVE THE FUCK UP...."be a man break up your band"...you're not a hasbeen you're a NEVER WAS. Be a "good sport" and throw in the towel.
To those worthy of my better advise I say: even if you've got to lose, ruin the other guys day if nothing else. Maybe you'll pull off a miracle comeback. On the rare occasions that you do..the victory shots will be sweeter than anything you've ever tasted.
Go read Bukowski's short story "home run"..he knew. UURRRPPPPPP.
10/13/05
OK, ENOUGH is ENOUGH Mr. McMahon. I've defended your "product" many, many times in the past in the face of some close quarters buttstench awful programming. In spite of the endless parade of your son in law triple ZZZ's title reigns that made me at first want to completely give up on your company..I've stuck it out and remained an occasional viewer. I've hung in there after seeing the same old same old SAME OLD recycling of ambulance gimmicks, police arrest gimmicks, burning caskets and burials that fool no one, stale "commisioner" type authority figure dominated shows, lack of respect for true talents ranging from RVD to Christian, insulting and dated portrayels of "furriners" like Tajiri and the absolute bottom of the barrel..thee parade of carbon copy cheerleader bimbo's that you've foisted on us known as the "diva search".
I've defended your company time after time after time...but what you've hinted at on the last RAW show will be..I GUARANDAMNFUCKING TEE you...the last straw. What I'm referring to is the "firing" (supposedly for "real"in his onstage capacity according to wrestling observor and other reputable sites) of Jim Ross. The reasons I've heard discussed are your own preferences Mr. McMahon to having a non-southern voiced, younger, cuter "hunk" announcing.
Hey pal, if your choice of play by play man is as piss poor as your decision to phase out tagteams, managers and in their stead tout overpaid and brainless bimbo's...well, I spent over 10 years boycotting your program throughout most of the eighties and on into the early 90's; I can and will do it again. I know, I know...I'm just some smallfry blowhard with an eensy weensy website. The fact is, whether you accept it or not it's guys like me who've been defending your several year slump that are keeping you afloat.
Jim Ross is a true legend. I've heard him broadcast for so many wrestling promotions over the years I won't even bother to try to remember them all here. He's a voice we TRADITIONAL wrestling fans have learned to respect. He's often been particularly over the last few years in which your ratings have slumped the only thing seperating your program from being a total "Glow" style joke without redeeming qualities. If you bring in some pretty face under some misguided notion that suddenly all the viewers you've turned off are going to come back...you've been gazing at your much vaunted tools in the mirror too long; you're WRONG. You're only hoping to pander to a segment of the audience with short term loyalty. I'm on the verge of switching my long time allegiance. I'm in the process of viewing a small stack of DVD's that will determine which company I'm gonna get behind from this day forth. Stay tuned here for more opionated guidance. One of these upstart companies can indeed make a big difference and get you following the biz again. Vince came out of nowhere and ran the regional promotions out of business; don't think for a minute he's got a permanent lock on things.
Thankfully to my knowledge Mr. Ross is still employed in a powerful capacity behind the scenes. Some people identify with TV news anchormen. Others of us look up to classy pro's like ol' J.R. in the same way. If in actuality he wants to remain behind the scenes..well, so be it...but that's not what I've been reading. Maybe it's just an angle meant to coincide with Stone Cold coming back to face Chump Hogan at mania. I hope that's the case. I'll keep watching if that's what transpires.
But, to be honest it's time for thee Whiskey Rebel to get behind another promotion and make them the focus of my occasional squared circle blather. I can't defend Vince & Co. anymore.
UUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPP........
10/10/05
Today was the best day of the year here at the Irwin household; no, it's not because it was Columbus day. No, we didn't celebrate a birthday. It was the BEST GODDAMNED FUCKING DAY OF THE YEAR...and it happens on a different day during this season most years.
What dignifies this day as the best???
Why did Elvis and I clink shot glasses a couple feet over our heads as we clicked our heels together and bellowed out animalistic primal grunts??
This was the day that the New York Yankees were eliminated from this years MLB baseball playoffs; this is the day that signifies the true annual beginning of the REAL post season that we can lean back and enjoy as baseball fanatics.
We were also overjoyed seeing the Atlanta Braves (yawn..!) eliminated 24 hours before. We're left with 4 teams whom we can now enjoy play solid baseball while the baseball elite cries and pisses and moans about the need for the yankees to do well to attract the optimum number of viewers TV ratings wise. FUCK 'EM!!
We think it's better for the sport if LONG TERM national interest in the game is buoyed by some other teams grabbing the spotlight.
FUCK the yankees "corporate" image; the wild and hairy Red Sox were a nice antidote for that last season. This year there are some great teams to follow too. We've both independantly predicted that the St. Louis Cardinals would win it all this year. If somebody knocks them off...more power to them at this point. It'll be good baseball one way or another. That's what we're into. UUUURRRPPPPPPPPP.....
10/08/05
OY VEY Y'ALL........give me a fucking break; Madonna fancies herself as some sort of religious scholar of the Jewish persuasion. Hey, just check out her new dance record.
She's a fucking joke any time she's assumed a serious pose. This is no different. What a desperate old grizzled piece of crap she is...she's my age for fucks sake. This episode takes the goddamned cake.
You may as well bow down to the hasidic commander of wrestling himself...even his hillbilly Jew gimmick. Even his "Cleotus commander" personna for all the good it's gonna do ya.
It's a frigging joke 98% of the time when celeb's try to weigh in on political subjects...it's 100% a smelly mound of poop when they try to advise we ignoroids on spiritual matters.
I almost can't believe it..but yea verily check out the Yahoo headlines.
When I worked at Tower records a few years back one of the things that really amazed me was how seriously she's taken by people in their 20's like the fucking Beatles or Oasis or some other bunch of over touted clowns out to make a buck.
She's flipped her wig...and has no more sense than your friendly neighborhood bag lady. I'd say she's even farther gone than Cindy "the shill" Sheehan.
It's a good day to be agnostic or atheist or from the dark side
Jewish scholar my hairy, sweaty rump!!! HAHHH!!
10/07/05
25th RANCID VAT ANNIVERSARY EXTRAVAGANZA ETCHED IN STONE. That's right. It's gonna be held here in lovely San Marcos Texas (25 miles south of Austin) on 12/31/05 at lovely Gordo's on the town square. Gordo's will be serving a full range of booze and beer of course but it's not a 7 day per week bar. It's an old movie theatre...the stage is wide and deep...the audience area wide but not so deep. The rules are thus: 21+ to drink...18 - 21 to gain non-guzzling admittance and kids with their parents are ok. It's confirmed that the other bands will be our pals ye HAMMERCOCKS from the Waco vicinity and good buddies BEFORE I HANG from Mississippi. There should be some special recognizable guests on hand too.
Since the students are out of town that time of year we're obviously gearing the show to long term fans and friends from far away. Californians have already bought airline tickets..and I've heard discussion of overseas attendees too. We want to help anybody with travel plans. Marla is going to post a map with local motel advice. There's a lot to do in the general area from music to out-doorsy shit. The tattoo emporium "Live electric studios" Mark is based at is just around the corner from Gordo's...although it's a good idea to book work for that time period with him. There's 24 hour food here in San Marcos ranging from Whattaburger (a Texas tradition) to the joint Elvis slings hash at. For travelers who show up early by a day there'll be some festivites involving an arrangement to gather with other show attendee's since a lot of the people who don't back out from all over the globe will likely know one another.
We'll be taping the show audio wise and likely DVD too..or at least VHS up the ying yang.
UUhhhh..what else?? If you're staying in the area a few days please remember that the Texas highway patrol will be out in force especially between here and Austin and San Antonio. Gone..LONG GONE are the days you could drink legally in vehicles in Texas like local boy LBJ (his house and museum are 30 miles away) liked to do in Lincoln Continentals at high rates of speed. If you expect to see a show in Austin that night and ours, better pick one or the other. New years eve there is a huge crowd scene and the cops will be combing the highways for drunks. It's a 25 minute drive in normal times but expect 3 times that.
The Austin airport is a bit closer to San Marcos...but if you can get a better rate from San Antonio it's only about a 45 minute drive except during peak traffic times and of course on New Years eve. There's a back road from the Austin airport that gets you here without having to deal with I-35 traffic or drunk insection stations. Marla should be posting a map about it. There's a close by Econolodge that's a long half mile from Gordo's that touring bands use. You can get a two bed room for $59 and so I here cram a few people into it. It's a "tolerant" motel in other words to some extent. Some motels in the area sound good on paper but due to being on access roads are farther from the club than you might think. We're more than happy to answer the silliest questions in advice since it's so far off.
What can I say about San Marcos....uhhh..there's at least 20 bars in the town square area. Park and walk and drink. We prefer 3 or 4 of them. Next door to Live Electric tattoo is a place called the "restless wind" that's perfect for non-Gordo's night of show drinking. Another good one is the "Showdown" which is loose and airy and attracts lots of hardcore drunks. The "triple crown" is a place we've played at a couple few times. I give it a triple thumbs up...beware of live bands charging cover at the door though. A trivia note is that our pal Craig from the Bulemics played in the first band that ever played there...wow. There's a mandolin on the wall celebrating that. Avoid the pretentious joints with "dress codes" like the plague. If you want to drink imports and eat good burgers go to the tap room. Elvis's place of employment is the "Allniter diner"...lots of Texas type spicy food served all night (ask if he's on duty cooking").
Lots of well known musicians from a wide range of genre's have lived in or near San Marcos. Wayne Hancock and Stevie Ray Vaughan stories are heard in every bar; Arthur Brown (remember "fire" from the 60's) and Jimmy Carl Black from Frank Zappa's Mothers of Invention painted houses nearby for years I am told. It's been a musical party animal town for decades.
The best known alumni of the State university is of course LBJ. He lived near campus (which back then was the huge old looking castle on the highest hill) and enjoyed taking "Jumbo" (his pet name for his penis) for a stroll in town.
I'll close with a local anecdote..something that happened tonight. I was at a convenience store at about 9:00. A car load of fairly young people into some sort of music (???!!??????) pulled up at about the same time I entered for a pack of peanuts. When I left the store I was approached by a thin guy in a leather jacket; he was obviously holding something close to his chest that was wrapped in restaurant napkins. He approached me and offered me his treasure: "hey man...I've got these jumbo shrimp and I thought you might like 'em!?!?!?!?"
I tapped my gut indicating I had already ate...got in my Mercury cop model auto and left that place behind me.
10/05/05
MY 21 YEAR OLD CAN DRINK YOURS UNDER THE TABLE..
It's true. He received XLNT training. All those years of an open bar around the house lead him to a great 21st birthday drinking bash...but he had a safe ride home when he wanted it too..and not from me.
Elvis's tastes run more to clear booze..rum and vodka than my own leanings towards beer and whiskey shots. So be it.
When he got off work after the midnight of his birthday I was there to hand him his first 21 year old beer. Then, he went off to drink elsewhere. He opened up the triple crown bar and guzzled a beer, a couple screwdrivers and a couple fingers of Chivas regal. Then he went to an early class or two.
Later that evening he went out with a couple friends to get free drinks out of the local bars. After a couple rum and cokes, a rum and cranberry and two amber Jack's he and his "San Marcos Mafia" met up with Marla and I and Mark at the Restless wind (the preferred nearby bar for attendee's of the upcoming 25th anniversary extravaganza) where he sucked down 3 rum and cranberries in prompt fashion. I saw good old Roderick waltz in the door and knew things would be heating up. The classy gent ordered a round of Jager shots. Elvis slammed his down. Then, he went off into the night for more adventures. He sucked down a couple hurricanes (LOADED with 5 kinds of booze) at his place of employment...and squeezed in a couple more rum and cranberries before the rather early San Marcos last call. he repaired to friends pads for additional lubrication.
We Irwin's don't "count" drinks ordinarily...
This occasion called for some account keeping.
Finally today I had the pleasure of facing my son over a pool table in a fucking bar with pitchers of beer at hand he could legally drink. It made me think of the times we hit Mosconi's in South philly and he'd have to chug a few in the car before going in because he was an early teen.
You can knock European countries all you want...the fact is we NEED some sensible drinking laws like they have....UUUURPPPPP. If we did more 21 year olds would turn out capable of tying one on in grand fashion rather than making bungholes of themselves.
He doesn't drink everyday...by choice. When he does it's a treat and not a fiasco.
What a great parent I am.
Oh yeah..he won the pool game..but I was the overall victor because i sucked down more beer...he knew it...........HAW HAW HAW HAW...
10/01/05
We're really gonna miss Kristi King. I've thought quite a bit about her over the last couple days...and I've shared stories and memories with more than a few folks on the telephone. I'm not gonna lay them down here in this diary right now. Maybe some time in the future. It's not that I don't have memories worth sharing...it's that I prefer to share them person to person with folks who also knew her.
I've been pretty worthless when it comes to getting anything done of course the last couple of days. It seems silly to even mention it..when you stop and think what Alan is going through.
Think what his inlaws are going through....
My blood Father lost his wife of 45 or so years a few weeks ago. They lost their son (my younger "half" Brother) in February.
I've heard from several longterm email buddies just this year about losses of relatives and good friends they've gone through. I know folks in town here who've lost several friends all aging in their 20's this year. 2005 will go down as one of the worst goddamned years of my lifetime for myself and lots of people I know.
I'm completely down with focusing on enemies heavily...but it's only gonna hurt you if you do so at the expense of regularly appreciating the people you know who are good to you..no matter whether they're a friend or blood relation. Take 'em aside once in a while and tell them what they mean to you...buy 'em a few shots. If they don't drink give 'em a big bear hug out of the blue.
Anybody you know could be gone tomorrow. Remember that.
This isn't a sunday school lesson...just a few true non-faith oriented words even the most black hearted of you would do well to think on. Well, I'll back out of here before I give in to further pontificating...for once.
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