Ersatz-Love

I’m marginally interested in Fetish stuff. Not like wanting to get whipped by the heavy ball chains wielded by some Helga wearing a Nazi uniform. Well, not really anyway (I supposed there would be some kind of catharsis evolved there). I’ve pierced my nipples (I had to take them out because of jail but that’s beside the point) and I don’t have an O gauge Prince Albert.

Although I like tattoos I have none. I have instead, more than one scarification (next time you see me you can trace the marks of stigmata on my hands and feet), including my name in Tibetan cut into my leg (a different rock band, a stupid tour; crazy time had by all).

Now, our Alex JD he’s the one who openly wears his interest in dominance and submission – guess which role he divines pleasure from. If you’re right he’ll smack your ass and make you call him daddy. If you’re wrong, he’ll smack your ass and make you call him daddy but you won’t enjoy it. He wins either way though.

Or our Jonathan; you wanna get that boy off, show him a girl with glasses and a pony tail. Make her blonde, and he’ll call you from Cuba next week.

But back to me… [Read more →]

I Make Monsters

And I’m good at it.

Out of my pit I can only see a small part of the sky. But down here there’s a whole world of suffering. I’m digging deeper and deeper, interrupted only when one of these ripping, tearing creatures of my own making jumps me from behind. Caught under this blunt trauma shock of a falling mortar my psyche is simply blown to bits. From now on I cannot protect myself.

They feed on me down here. They won’t let me go.

When they’re done and I’m alone I find myself again. Slowly I sit up in the darkness and look up from the mud and the blood and the tears. The stars are so beautiful. Heaven is a circle. [Read more →]

Lost And Trapped

Self-loathing or just loathing in general? I can’t make up my mind. Yeah, my ambivalence. It’s like that sometimes.

Today makes the second time I’m reading an insipid review on my record by someone who is clearly not a music critic but just a moron with attention deficit syndrome. Now, first let me establish something…

If you’re a critic and hate the music – I have no problem with this… go ahead. Seriously, if most people loved it (and I think I’ve been pretty clear how I feel about most people) I’d shoot myself for sure. Like one of my favorite pretend writers says, “I hate you all.”
However, this isn’t the problem that is so evident with these “critiques”. The problem is, THE FUCKERS CLEARLY DIDN’T LISTEN TO THE GODDAMN RECORD. They didn’t even read the lyrics!

Come on, a real music critic wouldn’t just read the PR firm’s tear sheet and then do a review based on that and song titles, would they? Maybe I’m being too optimistic about alleged music lovers. But really, to have to say the number one rule of a music critic: Put the fucking record on! Jesus Christos! It’s their job! They’re supposed to listen to it from beginning to end and make an informed judgment on it. The key word there is “informed”. Know what you’re listening to. If you don’t, find out. Don’t like doing that? THEN DON’T BE A GODDAMN MUSIC CRITIC.

But that’s the problem isn’t it? Most of us are all jerks, lazy and just plain narrow-minded. We don’t want to be good at something – we just want to get it over with. [Read more →]