Monday, December 08, 2014

'I just can't make it by myself' --Tom Waits turns 65 and thank god he's still here.



'I just can't make it by myself...' 

It is a very hard call, and I certainly don't stand by it. But for what it is worth, I think Tom Waits' "Shore Leave" is my favourite Tom Waits song. Or, put another way, it is my favourite song.

A vivid tale of a lonely sailor on shore leave in Hong Kong is transformed into something almost frightening in its heartfelt despair. The sailor's declaration that "I just can't make it by myself, I just love you so..." is how I sometimes feel, in my more fanciful (ie: drunk) moments, about the veteran American songwriter who turns 65 today (well OK, that is yesterday here in Sydney where I write this, but it is still before midnight on December 7 in California where Waits resides). 

Tom Waits was inducted into the Rock'N'Roll Hall of Fame in 2011 by Neil Young in a move Waits described as "very encouraging".

In his more than 40 years in the music business, Tom Waits has had a huge impact  -- from his songs that YouTube mash-ups prove could easily have been sung by the Cookie Monster, to inspiring disturbingly accurate parodies like Tom Waits sings Christmas songs to being immortalised on the Internet via the Nyan Waits

Waits' turning 65 really makes you think -- mostly, it makes me think: "Oh for FUCK'S SAKE you GODDAMN  BASTARD! You are NOW FUCKING 65!!! TIME IS RUNNING OUT! TOUR AUSTRALIA! FOR GOD'S SAKE JUST COME AND TOUR AGAIN BEFORE YOU'RE TOO DECREPIT AND/OR TOO DEAD YOU ARSEHOLE!!! FUCK!!!"

We are probably lucky we even have the chance, however slim, that he might come back here for the first time since 1979. After all, this was a man who spent the 70s seemingly trying to drink himself to death in a bid to inspire the ultimate barfly song.

By the end of the 70s, Waits was in a bad way -- so bad he said he looked in the mirror one day and saw Billy Joel.

He was saved by the women he married, Kathleen Brennan. But this is not some patronising "woman saves man with her love and became his 'muse'" bullshit story where the woman only exists to further the leading man's narrative.

Brennan did not just help inspire a totally new direction for Waits, starting with 1983s Swordfishtrombone, she has been his creative partner, co-writing most songs ever since. On the nature of their songwriting partnership, Waits has variously offered such insights as "You wash, I'll dry" or "I'll hold the nail, you swing the hammer". 

One example Waits gave of one of Brennan's lines is one of the finest in any Tom Waits song -- "She's a diamond who wants to stay coal" from "Black Market Baby". At first, Waits thought she said "cold".

Essentially, from the 1980s on, the musical entity known to the world as "Tom Waits" has been a more-or-less entirely Waits/Brennan collaboration.

But we can also appreciate the fact that, had he never met Brennan, by his own admission, Waits probably would not be alive right now and tormenting Australian fans with his steadfast refusal to tour here, while making infuriating comments on the topic when pressed about it, like when he told Triple J in 2011 that, while he had no plans to tour, "Life is long, I'm sure it will happen."

Yeah, life is long, Tom, but it is not fucking infinite.




'We're all gonna be just dirt in the ground...' That's right Tom. What you just said. You might want to think of your own words in relation to your long-suffering and fucking desperate Australian fans.


I am obviously a big fan of Tom Waits. His poetic tales of ordinary people staggering through a hellish world frequently make me cry -- especially, but not only, if I've drunk reasonable quantities of beer and/or whiskey.

Others say Waits makes them cry too ... but for different reasons. Not everyone shares my... well obsession is really the only word. His (in)famously ultra-gravelly voice -- as well as his often eccentric sound and persona -- tend to divide opinion between obsessives and large chunks of the rest of humanity.

But whatever. Waits' music is theatrical and sometimes cinematic. It creates an atmosphere and mood in which to tell a story and evoke certain emotions.

And no two people like the exact same films or plays or books. At the end of the day, I just don't give fuck. And through four decades or recording and performing music, Waits has never given much indication he does either.

But rather than keep adding to the many, many words I have written already on this blog about Tom Waits, I'll highlight a couple of quotes from other songwriters and performers on the man -- who has inspired much praise and awe from all kinds of performers across many genres.

Former David Lee Roth guitarist Steve Via, best known as a hard rock metal guitarist, describes himself as "an overzealous fan" of Waits. In an interview about his love of Waits last year, he spoke of the first time he ever heard Waits (when he bought 1999's Mule Variations), saying:
I bought the CD, put it in my player, and I tell you, it stopped me dead in my tracks. I was stunned into silence. I just listened to the entire CD, and then I went out and bought everything that he ever did.
On why Waits affects him so, much Vai explained:
He's 100% committed. When you watch him perform, he's fully present; he's in the moment with every single word... What I look for in music is artistry, sincerity, and simplicity and Tom Waits has all of that ... That's what I get from Tom's music, and that's pretty special.
More recently, Ben Nichols, frontman of country band Lucero (I refuse on absolute principle to use that idiotic phrase "alt. country" -- it's just fucking country music) wrote a November 12 piece for American Songwriter on his deep admiration of Tom Waits. He says:
I remember driving from Memphis to Little Rock listening to “Blind Love” from the album Rain Dogs and saying to myself, “That right there is the type of song I’d like to write in this Lucero band.”

Now, that is all well and good but I’m still trying to write a song like “Blind Love.” In the 16 years I’ve been writing songs for Lucero, I am still struggling to achieve what appears to come so naturally to Tom Waits...
Nichols concluded:
I never go very long without listening to some Tom Waits records. And actually, I just realized the best part about writing this essay … it made me want to stop typing, pick up a guitar and try to write a song, cause that’s what listening to Tom Waits makes me want to do.
So here you go, in honour of his 65th birthday, a pretty random selection of Tom Waits songs, just ones that I feel like including tonight -- there are countless ones I could post and I've done various themed Waits' song posts before.

As ever, the songs are helpfully compiled in a nice YouTube playlist. Yar, don't thank me, buy me a beer sometime. Via the paypal donate button on the right side of the blog...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOM WAITS NOW COME AND FUCKING TOUR AUSTRALIA YOU GODDAMN BASTARD!

***



'Don't you know there aint no Devil, there's just God when He's drunk...' As well as just generally a great song and a cool performance, that "Devil/God" line is one of my favourite quotes of all time. And it's followed by 'This stuff'll probably kill ya... let's do another line...' Hollywood summed up.





'The smell of blood, the drone of flies, you know what to do when that baby cries... Hoist that rag...' War, via Tom Waits. One of the tracks from 2004's Real Gone inspired by Bush's futile, failed wars on Iraq and Afghanistan.





'Two dollar pistol, but the gun won't shoot. I'm on the corner in the pouring rain...' Sure, other times, I'd go for the full emotional bombast of 'Downtown Train' -- one of the most poetic songs there is about urban alienation. But I've done that before on this blog, and 1985s Rain Dogs has many more tales of the madness of urban life in a major city like New York and this is just one.





'Well my parole officer will be proud of me...' It probably says a lot about me that I tend to lean towards the "heartboken, drunk and filled with melancholy and regret" side of the Tom Waits ledger.  Here is a Waits' track cutting loose a bit.





'And all the news is bad, is there any other kind?' That one line sums up how, on this track from his 2011 album Bad As Me, Waits combines pointed social and political jabs ('It's hard times for some, for others its sweet. Someone makes money when there's blood on the streets') with his more usual territory of heartache ('Well she told me she'd leave me, I ignored all the signs...')





'The piano is firewood, Times Square is a dream... ' Well I guess I couldn't stay away from the 'bitter sweet songs tinged with melancholy and regret' for too long.





'I'm the last leaf. The autumn took the rest, but they won't take me...' Great track, sharing vocals with Keith Richards.... But still... I mean don't forget Tom... I know you sing 'I'll here through eternity, if you want to know how long. If they cut down this tree I'll turn up in a song', but you know... NOT LIVE. You live on forever, or at least until the climate change-induced eco-holocaust destroys us all, in *song*... But NOT LIVE!!! TOUR AUSTRALIA YOU PRICK!!!

Thursday, November 20, 2014

The 6 Things You Should Never Say To A Psycopath

As anyone who has been near the internet at all in the past couple of years knows, some people in this world are introverts and others are extroverts. And both groups have their own special needs that only other introverts/extroverts could possibly understand.

But what about psychopaths? It can seem like our special nature and needs are all too often ignored.

This is not surprising when you consider all the negative portrayals of psychopaths coming out of Hollywood. What, with films ranging from American Psycho to Texas Chainsaw Massacre to the seemingly endless versions of Snow White (seriously, couldn't Hollywood manage to have at least one of them try to depict things from the Evil Queen's perspective???) it is no wonder psychopaths are so misunderstood and even feared!

No doubt you have many preconceived, and possibly quite wrong, notions about psychopaths -- that we are all mass murderers, torturers or CEO of major banks! I mean, it just isn't true -- some of us also run large oil companies!

Well you need worry no more! I have compiled this list to help you better understand and relate to the psycopaths in your life, and also increase your chances of staying alive! Yes, here are "The 6 Things You Should Never Say To A Psycopath"! Don't thank me, just buy me a beer sometime! Seriously! Just do it! Don't make me hurt you!


* * *


1) "Why are you carrying that machete?"

Yes we know we are carrying a machete! And yes we know it is dripping in blood! This is because psychopaths find social interaction to be difficult and frustrating if we don't have some sort of deadly weapon at hand with which to brutally slaughter whoever we are talking to, should the need arise.

This is just one of the defence mechanisms we have to help us cope with the outside world. It doesn't make us lesser humans or mean we hate you. It just means we are constantly weighing up whether or not to slash your ugly face to pieces with our machete.

Healthy relationships are all about maintaining respect, so keep in mind that pointing to the deadly weapon in a psychopath's twitching hand is basically like asking a disabled person why they have a wheelchair or asking someone what their false leg is for. As well as rude, it will also likely shorten your life expectancy.


2) "Why do you kill people?"

Why do you ask stupid questions? Seriously, it might be well-intended, but asking this is almost guaranteed to offend/enrage a psychopath.

But basically, so you know, it is kinda how we recharge our batteries.

Imagine that every person has one cup of energy that can be emptied out and needs refilling. Generally, non-psychopaths find the act of brutally butchering another human being to be a draining activity, after which they will often need a decent rest or even a long holiday on an entirely different continent with a fake passport and new identity.

Psychopaths, on the other hand, find the act of slaughter to be an exhilarating and uplifting experience! It really gets the blood flowing (haha bad pun!)

Essentially, it gives us the energy we need to face another day on this truly godforsaken hellhole of a planet. Best to just get out of the way and leave us to it, if you know what is good for you.


3) "Where do you bury all the bodies?"

OK, now asking this is a pretty big "no-no". No psychopath will want to answer this one partly for some pretty obvious legal reasons and partly because each psychopath's burial ground is a deeply personal space. For many of us, the place we bury our victims is one of the few places we can ever really truly feel at peace.

Also, it can be hard to find a decent place to bury bodies and space is often at a premium. Asking this of a psychopath will just lead to us having one more dead body we have to find a place to hide and this will increase stress levels unnecessarily. So just be respectful and avoid this one. For your own sake.


4) "ARRRGGH!!! FUCK!!! YOU'RE SLASHING MY LIMBS! OH MY GOD THE PAIN!"

Yes, OK, we know. Sometimes we start hacking away at anyone in our general vicinity when we get anxious or upset. Often it happens if someone tries to ask us where bodies are buried. It is a spontaneous response and often we won't even realise we are doing it!

However, you highlighting the fact in a public situation is unlikely to help and will only raise levels of anxiety and/or murderous rage. The best procedure is to wait for a quiet moment to discreetly raise the matter with the psychopath in your life and explain, gently and very, very carefully, your negative feelings towards having your limbs hacked to pieces.

Assuming you are still alive, of course. Which is probably pretty unlikely, because if there is one thing you can say about us psychopaths, it is once we start hacking, we tend not to stop until your body is in small, easy-to-dispose-of pieces! Sorry, it's just how we are!


5) "You are under arrest."

This is definitely a very bad thing to say to any psychopath. It is about the most offensive thing you could say -- and yet amazingly, you'd be shocked at how many times I actually hear this said to me! Even in 2014, some people still seem to think this is acceptable!

And why does it always seems to be police officers?!? I don't know what it is, but I can tell you right now the police forces in this country are clearly long-overdue for some "psychopath sensitivity training". Honestly, you'd think some of them have never seen a blood-splattered psychopath standing over a dismembered corpse before!

This really is one sure way to guarantee more blood being spilled. If you say this one to a psychopath, don't expect to stay alive much longer. You've been warned!


6) "Hey, psycho!"

"Psychopath" is the proper name for people who suffer from the medical condition psychopathy, which is characterised by enduring antisocial behaviour, diminished empathy and remorse, and disinhibited or bold behavior. The term "psycho", however, is widely recognised by psychopaths as a negative slur.

Yes, a psychopath can, and sometimes will, call another psychopath a "psycho" -- often when engaged in a battle to the death over some prime corpse-burying territory. But for a non-psychopath to use the term is deeply offensive.

Other terms to avoid include "crazed killer", "deranged lunatic", "freak", "murderous fruitloop", "serial killer", "monster", "The Butcher", "blood-stained axe-wielding maniac", "The Spawn of Satan" or "The Very Personification of Pure Evil".

Also unacceptable are "the suspect", "the accused" or "the defendant" (see point five). 

Use of such terms is likely to lead to your brutal death and it is unlikely to be quick or painless. Of course, if you have a psychopath in your life, you will probably die a horrible death sooner or later anyway. But you can do your bit to ensure your last remaining time on Earth is as non-offensive to your almost-certain-to-be murderer as possible. We thank you in advance.

* * *

OK, I hope that was useful, but if you wish to know more, I recommend these tracks about psychopaths and our culture. It is important to highlight those parts of popular culture treating psychoths with respect, so no I am not putting up any versions of Leon Payne's "Psycho" -- not even the Beasts of Bourbon's version despite Tex Perkin's fine vocal performance -- on grounds it uses the unacceptable "P" word.

I hope you enjoy the below tracks, however, featuring, somewhat unsurprisingly for anyone who has read more than one post on this blog, Tom Waits, Shovels and Rope and Alberta's finest country singer Corb Lund. DO YOU HAVE YOUR OWN PSYCHOPATH SONG? Suggest it in the comments.



'Cause there's nothin' strange about an axe with bloodstains in the barn. There's always some killin' you got to do around the farm...' Damn straight Tom! You tell 'em.




'She saw a thin man and a shadow make their way across the lawn ... And it'll be a long time before the sun shines on Shank Hill street again...' The South Carolina husband-and-wife duo's sensitive song by about a psychopath's sometimes strained relationship with their surrounding community.




'I ain’t got time to savour ‘em, I gotta drink ‘em quick
I’ve conveyed my urgency, I hope
If they catch me it’s all over, I’ll be way on up the creek
And I’ll be swingin’ on the wrong end of a rope'


Such a sad song by Canadian country singer Corb Lund! All about a psychopath from the American Wild West on the run from the law (does persecution of my kind ever stop?) who stops for a badly needed drink, only to be cruelly gunned down by the bar tender when he turns his back! I mean really, if you can't even trust your own bar tender who can you trust? Sad, sad song.

Sunday, November 09, 2014

All your questions answered PART 2!!! FEATURING SHOVELS AND ROPE!!!

Well fuck yeah people! I told you to tell me your fucking problems and then I answered your fucking problems! That's just how I roll! I fucking solve shit. I am a "solver".

More than that, I'm a fucking "doer". It took me less than four months to answer the last lot of "Agony Aunt/Ask Your Friendly Prophet" questions, and this time I was even quicker! Just a matter of weeks since you asked your questions!

This is what progress looks like. Goddamn governments claiming to take "the need for climate action" seriously might want to take notes here. Action should be as swift and decisive as a Carlo Sands blog post, you motherfuckers.

It did help that there were a just two questions. It helped even more that one came from a man whom dedicated readers of this blog will immediately recognise as the cad who beat me in a duel to the death -- yes, Leslie Fucking Richmond!!! Having basically killed me with the help of the Facebook quiz "when will you die?", the prick now has the sheer fucking gall to ask me a question!!!

But, personal feelings/murder notwithstanding, I made a solemn promise to my multitude of fans that I would answer their questions -- and that my answeers would come with a specially designated song by the glorious American country/folk husband-and-wife duo Shovels and Rope

I made a similar promise last time with Tom Waits and I fucking delivered... so you better believe I will come through with SHOVELS AND FUCKING ROPE!!!! Yeah? So here we go...


1) Alright let's start with the goddamn cad and get him out of the way -- literally, with any luck. "Leslie Richmond" (and I am confident that is his real name coz why would anyone impersonate such a prick?) has the unspeakable gall to ask:

Sorry, is this Room 101? I was told to report to Room 101. It looks ... scarier ... than I imagined it to be.

Well, don't you fucking even bother apologising to me, Richmond! Jesus fuck! But... to answer your question. No.

There you go. That is your answer, straight up. No, this is not "Room 101". It is not the fucking fictitious room George Orwell invented in his novel 1984, whereby people are tortured by their own worst nightmares.

Nor, for that matter, is it the British TV show of the same name in which comics and other celebrities nominate pet hates they would like condemned to an Orwell-inspired Room 101 -- which, and never let it be said this blog is not "up-to-date" with show bizz "goss", is going to be recreated for Australian TV with Paul McDermott as its host.

So I hope this answers your question. You get a Shovels and Rope song -- even if you don't fucking deserve one. It is, however, highly appropriate. It is like the song was written for you, you evil prick.



But every now and then I get evil
I’m ashamed in the shadow of the steeple
I’m a lunatic looking thru a keyhole


2) OK I was quite grateful to receive a second question... or so I thought, until I saw the questioner! It was one "Simon Ronald", who I am sure all dedicated readers of this blog immediately recognise as that fucking freak who in the last round of questions confessed to being a degenerate and compulsive TOUCHER OF HIS EYEBROWS!!! 

Now, I'll admit it takes some courage to come back after admitting something that and daring to pose a new question. So, purely out of respect for his sheer bravery, I'll report and seek to answer the degenerate's new question, which is: 

how often should one "treat oneself"?

Well, jesus christ, you try to give a fucker a break and he throws this at you! How often should you "treat yourself"??? Now, I don't presume to know exactly what you mean by "treat oneself", Simon Ronald, but I assume, to go by your past sinful admissions, what you mean is how often should you "treat yourself" by touching your eyebrows, you sick fuck!!!

To which I can only reply: that is NOT A TREAT, THAT IS A SIN!!! YOU ARE CLEARLY BEYOND HELP AND YOU DO NOT DESERVE TREATS!!! 

Nonetheless, I shall take mercy on you. Yes, despite your degeneracy I hereby assign you the following Shovels and Rope song "The Devil Is All Around". I think you will find it highly pertinent to your "eyebrown-touching" predicament. I pray you will listen and consider its message of possible salvation.



So I'm gonna be a good man, gonna do the best I can
Though I'm a shell of the man that I once was
And if I find forgiveness in the eyes of god
It will be hard won, I assure you

PRAY LISTEN TO SHOVELS AND ROPE, SIMON, AND DO THE BEST THAT YOU CAN!!!

Well, that is your questions answered once more. I really feel that deserves a beer, which you can purchase for me via the PayPal donations button on the righthand side of the blog. I PROMISE ALL MONIES DONATED WILL BE SPENT ON BEER!!! THAT IS A CARLO SANDS GUARANTEE!!!

Do you have more questions for Carlo Sands? YEAH? YOU DO? Well ask me in the comments section under this post and I shall rush to answer them!!! I will even award you with your own personal song by Texas singer-songwriter Hayes Carll!!! GO ON!!! GIVE IT A GO!!!


BONUS TRACK

Yes, a bonus Shovels and Rope track! I have chosen "Boxcar" coz I think it speaks to the universal experience of being a couple of in-love desperados on the run from the law somewhere in Depression-era United States -- and "bleeding out in a boxcar, shot in the back". Christ, we've all been there.



Well ain't it just like you and me to go down like that?
Bleedin' out in a boxcar, shot in the back
We were all out of luck, all out of time
Law was waiting for us at the end of the line...



Friday, October 31, 2014

'There's a killer and he's coming through the rye' The Tom Waits Halloween Playlist


Tonight is Halloween -- the night of demons, ghouls and the undead. Like federal parliament unleashed across the globe.

Now, I live in Australia, and each year, to judge by social media, the angst over the fact more and more kids want to "trick or treat" and adults want to dress up and get drunk every Halloween just grows...

Because this is Australia! If you want to dress-up in scary costumes, evoke horror tales and get drunk, Australians do that on January 26 by drapping themselves in oversized flags and painting their faces the ever-horrific colour scheme of green and gold, celebrate a genocidal invasion carried out with gruesome violence and... well get drunk.

And as for trick or treating... the consensus among many seems to be Aussie kids should just go without lollies rather than cave in to the insidious invasion of American cultural imperialism, and if the kids don't understand that, if they want to be pathetic cultural defeatists, then they can expect a lecture on the subtle lingustic distinctions between Australian and American slang ("it's not a cookie, it's a biscuit!"), which is about the last serious distinction anyone can think of these days.

Now, I want to be as clear as I can: I don't give a fuck for the petty inward-looking, island-induced nationalism that Halloween seems to bring out in otherwise sensible people in this country, people who every other day of the year vacuum up American culture with glee, but I will tell you this straight up -- there is NO FUCKING WAY ANY GODDAMN BRAT IS GOING TO GET ANY OF MY FUCKING CHOCOLATE!!!

That is my objection to trick or treating. Plus, it encourages kids to try to talk to me, which really isn't in anyone's interest.

Anyway, it turns out the whole fucking thing isn't American at all! It's actually Irish in origin, as seems to be social media's obession with pointing out this year, and comes with this really cool tale about how this Irishman tricked the Devil to get a free drink. And I sure as hell approve of free booze, so that's enough for me.

That and the fact I'll take any excuse to create a Tom Waits playlist.





And Halloween is as good an excuse as any for a new playlist of songs by the grizzled old man of American music. 

Waits songs have always been very cinematic -- evocative images fill his wide-ranging stories populated with battered characters from the dark side of town. And, in doing so, he covers a range of genres -- or, more accurately, a range of Tom Waits tropes.

Waits himself dealt with this -- in a self-conscious if simplified way -- on his triple album of previously unreleased songs and rarities Orphans. He divided each three albums thematically into "Brawlers", "Bawlers" and "Bastards".

There's no question that Waits is justifiably best known for his "bawlers". Few have perfected the genuinely emotive "crying into your beer" tale in popular music the way Tom Waits has -- songs about having a "Bad Liver and Broken Heart", to quote the title of his track from 1976's Small Change that playfully acknowledges his penchant for the trope.

The songs on the Halloween playlist are, unsurprisingly, much more of the "bastards" type. In going for the more "horror"-esque Waits' songs, there are some obvious sources tapped -- 1992's Bone Machine, 1993's Black Rider and a couple from 2004's underrated Real Gone

One of them -- the truly unsettling "Army Ants" from Orphans -- features nothing more than Waits reading, over some basic background music, a text from a biology book about a predatory species of ant. As horror stories go, it is as spinechilling as it is simple.

But at least some of the tracks are not about horror that is supernatural or even the threat of a lone deranged killer (like the one in the post's title, from "How's It Gonna End?", who is coming through the rye, although "maybe it's the father of that lost little girl, it's had to tell in this light..."). 

Instead, the horror is wedged firmly in the society humans have created -- none more so than in "Hell Broke Luce", a very modern horror tale centred on America's Middle Eastern wars.

And that is probably fair enough. When you consider the all-too-real horror of climate change-induced droughts, fires, floods and super-storms; the gruesome unhinged violence of the American war machine echoed in minuture by ISIS beheaders; starvation; poverty; out-of-control gendered violence; and thousands of other constant, unrelenting day-in-day horrors that the decaying system of late monopoly captialism inflicts on the world; then perhaps the greatest horror is captured by Tom Waits haunting "Dirt In The Ground", when he sings: "We're chained to the world, and we all gotta pull..."



Anyway, here are the fucking songs, all 19 of them. I have helpfully compiled them into one easy-to-access YouTube playlist for your listening pleasure! And all for free! No really! Just buy me a beer sometime. You know, via the paypal donation button on the right of this blog.





Seriously... buy me a beer. I am feeling thirsty.

Saturday, October 18, 2014

'If you don't love it, leave...' THE PATRIOTIC SLOGAN EXPLAINED!



Cairns Woolworths caused outrage by stocking a singlet with the Australian flag and the phrase "If you don't love it, leave..." But, let no one be confused by such a slogan, which, at first glance would seem a little reminiscent of "Fuck off, we're full" stickers or even the famed "I grew here, you flew here" slogan raised during the 2005 Cronulla race riots.

That is all a misunderstanding, it seems. Because an online poll of Daily Telegraph readers found an overwhelming majority believe "If you don't love it, leave..." is not racist at all, but mere patriotic.

As I think we can all admit that devout readers of the Daily Tele know a thing or two about racism, it seems to me the big problem here is confusion over the slogan's meaning. If you don't love "it" ... but what exactly is "it"?

In the interest of clarity, I hereby provide some concrete examples of the slogan's meaning to clear up all misunderstandings and explain to the possibly confused reader what it means to be patriotic in Australia... OR ELSE FUCK OFF.


IF YOU DON'T LOVE...

If you don't love labelling newborn babies "unauthorised maritime arrivals", leave...

If you don't love jailing children in isolated prison camps, leave...

If you don't love racist abuse on public transport, definitely leave... Seriously, get the fuck out now.

if you don't love threatening physical violence against foreign heads of state, leave...

If you don't love shirt fronts, leave...

If you don't love bombing the Middle East, leave...

If you don't love ASIO raids, leave...

If you don't love media beat ups about terror threats involving plastic swords, leave...

If you don't love crack downs on freedom of speech, leave...

If you don't love banning freedom of association, leave...

If you don't love jailing whistlebowers, leave...



GET OUT!


If you don't love spending billions on a new war, leave...

If you don't love paying for visiting the doctor, leave...

If you don't love working till you're 70, leave...

If you don't love de-regulated university fees putting many university courses out of the reach of all but the rich, leave...

If you don't love forcing the jobless under 30 to starve, leave...

If you don't love more than 2 million people living in poverty, leave...

If you don't love politicised witchhunts against trade unions, leave...

If you don't love corporate interests buying politicians, leave...

If you don't love corporate tax evasion, leave...

If you don't love huge subsidies to big polluters, leave...

if you don't love mining companies, leave...

If you don't love Gina Rinehart, leave...

If you don't love coal, leave...



LOVE IT OR LEAVE!


If you don't love logging old growth forests, leave...

If you don't love destroying the Great Barrier Reef, leave... Really. Just go. Your are not welcome.

If you don't love climate denial, leave...

If you don't love sabotaging global talks on climate action, leave...

If you don't love more and more roads, leave...

If you don't love trying to dump radioactive waste on Aboriginal land, leave...

If you don't love stolen land, leave...

If you don't love apartheid-style laws in the Northern Territory, leave...

If you don't love Black deaths in custody, leave...

If you don't love creating a new Stolen Generation, leave...

If you don't love domestic violence, leave...

If you don't love slashing funds for victims of domestic violence, leave...

If you don't love blaming women for rape, leave...

If you don't love rugby league players getting away with gang rape, leave...

If you don't love one of the most monopolised medias in the world, leave...

If you don't love Andrew Bolt, leave...



DON'T LOVE HIM? FUCK OFF.


If you don't love Alan Jones, leave...

If you don't love celebrating a national day on the anniversary of the start of a genocidal invasion, leave...

If you don't love the Cronulla race riots, leave...

If you don't love ALL of that ...  JUST FUCKING LEAVE!!!






Now you might be saying "OK Carlo, we get the message, but WHERE are we to go?" THAT IS NOT MY FUCKING CONCERN!!! JUST FUCK OFF! 

"Will our air fare be paid to assist us in fucking off?" Jesus christ, you GODDAMN bleeding heart pinko left-wing nanny state bludgers even want a hand out when getting thrown out of the country!!! FUCKING JESUS! JUST GET OUT!

Now, in case there is anything STILL unclear about all of this, I hereby post below a clip of country punk band Sydney City Trash singing their song "Southern Cross Tattoo", which provides as clear an expression of Aussie Pride and patriotic love for the country as anyone has ever come up with. Have a listen, and if what it describes is not for you, LEAVE NOW!




There's this nation they call Down Under
But to me it's top of the world!
And I love this nation so goddamn much
I'd marry it if it were a girl!
And when you talk bad about this nation I love
Well it cuts me deep inside
Coz I seriously love, I mean actually love
Well I'm so filled with Aussie pride... 





Friday, October 10, 2014

The Reason I Have Not Jumped From My Window Today #1 Featuring Shovels And Rope

I am thinking of starting a series along these lines. The world is dark, it is horrible, it is filled with bands like Mumford and Sons. Sometimes, it all seems too much. Why live in a world where shit like that passes for "civilisation"???

Because there exists acts like Shovels and Rope and listening to this clip below, one of a number of YouTube clips showing full performances of the GLORIOUS country/folk/roots/Americana duo and not even the best, just the one I have listened to today, well... that is why I haven't jumped. Because there is good in the world. And it is really fucking good.




YARRRRRRRRRR


Bonus track




We're hangin here within an inch of our lives
from the day we're born until the day we die
don't it make you want to take your time
are you gonna let it pass you by

Made every way cut you like a knife
any moment in time could change your life
will you be ready with the time you got
maker is ready if your ready or not

Hangin on by a fragile thread
livin your life like your already dead
will you be happy with the time you gave
these words will be your final days...

Wish i could look death in the face
transcend both time and space
and reclaim those bygone days
that i was such a fool to waste...

When it comes my day when it comes my time
I hope to hear y'all moaning in the second life
Just throw my ashes on some hollow ground
and sing me on my way with a joyful sound
you can sing me on my way with a joyful sound
you can sing me on my way

Friday, October 03, 2014

YOUR QUESTIONS ANSWERED! You asked for my advice and I DELIVERED!

On a famous day, a date which will RING OUT THROUGH THE AGES -- or at least until the eco-holocaust renders human civilisation unsustainable -- I posted the following question: "What the FUCK is your problem?"

The day was June 16, 2014.

To that question, I added a second: "And what the FUCK are you going to do about it???" But I did more than simply pose such hard-hitting questions. No, I offered help! I further added, and I quote, "ASK CARLO SANDS THE ANSWER!!!"

Yes, I offered my services as a sort of "Agony Aunt". Only drunker and not an aunt. But I think the "Agony" bit was probably right, because I went through agony to get these answers!!!

Yes, I know what you are thinking! June 16 was like pretty much yesterday! How the FUCK did you come up with answers to the questions asked of you in the comments under that post in SUCH A SHORT AMOUNT OF TIME???

Well, blog reader, I value you all, I really do. I truly care about your problems!

The simple truth is I have been meditating DAY AND NIGHT on all of your questions, and while I appreciate that some of you may feel answering so soon is dangerous or even foolish, all I can do is assure you I am confident I reached a point that us "Agony Aunts/Prophets" like to call "Maximum Wisdom".

And I appeal to you to let my answers be your guide. So... here we go featuring, as promised, a Tom Waits song for each question.





1) The first question was from "Anonymous" and it was:

HELLO????????????????????????????

Well, anonymous, if that really is your name, I am not sure what you are asking me here, to be honest. I mean, I am here to help, but first, I feel you need to find out what it is you need help with, because I am not convinced you yourself know.

However, my conclusion is your issues are probably to do with an addiction to the "?" key, or perhaps it just sticks on your keyboard when you press it. Either way, it is probably something you should get looked at.

As promised, here is your Tom Waits song. I feel it relates directly to your predicament.




She sends me my blue valentines
To remind me of my cardinal sin
I can never wash the guilt
Or get these bloodstains off my hands
And it takes a lot of whiskey
To make these nightmares go away...




2) The second question was *also* from anonymous and it was:

YES??? HELLOO??????

Well really, anomymous, I feel this is just a replay of the first question, only with the addition of "YES???". It is almost as if the author of the post was trying to figure out if the comments bit actually worked, but obviously that can't be true coz I'm the author and I would remember such a thing. Unless I was really drunk.

Anyway, see my answer to the first question, as it is the same. Here is your Tom Waits song.




Got a crazy sensation, stay or go, I gotta choose. And I'll accept your invitation to the blues.



3) OK, now "Fretful Mother" (if that is truly their name and I for one wish to express some doubt as to the truth of the claim) has actually managed to ask a very serious question -- one requiring some very serious thought and a very serious answer:


Dear Carlo, my 17 year old son insists on lying in his undies rubbing his belly while we watch the Mighty Boosh. What can I do about this issue? Thank you! Fretful mother



Ah, yes. The old "17-year-old-son lying in his undies rubbing his belly while watching The Mighty Boosh" issue. Yes. Well, you know this is actually a far more common problem than you might imagine.

And "Fretful Mother", you were right to ask me about this. An issue this sensitive requires the handling of an expert. It requires someone who understands what is truly happening here.

See, an amateur Agony Aunt would just be lost, totally out of their depth. They might suggest all kinds of crazy things, like asking him to put on some pants and maybe a top of some sort, or possibly even to switch to watching a different British sitcom from the first decade of the 21st century, such as The IT Crowd.

But obviously, that is just not going to work, and not simply because both sitcoms feature Noel Fielding in some capacity. No, the reason is far more simple: Your son is in love with what we experts call a "Jersey Girl".

And, you see, "nothing else matters in this whole wide world" when "you are in love with a Jersey girl". It makes you crazy, it causes you to behave in all kinds of nutty ways, from taking "my baby" to the carnival and taking "her on all the rides", to watching The Mighty Boosh in your undies while rubbing your stomach.

No, your son has "no time for the corner boys", you know the ones "down on the street making all that noise". He is too busy thinking of taking "that ride, across the river to the Jersey side" and/or rubbing his belly while watching a sitcom starring Noel Fielding on the TV. (Don't bother trying a sitcom not involving Noel Fielding, he is actually irrelevent to all of this and there is no reason at all why I keep mentioning him, so I shall stop henceforth.)

So, what can you do about this problem? Well, how much do you like people from Jersey? If you don't mind Jersey-ites, then just go with the flow and accept that your grandkids will speak with a Jersey accent.

If you don't like folk from Jersey, and I believe many don't, then all you can do is disown your son. It may sound harsh, but the bitter truth is you will never succeed in stopping his love for a Jersey Girl.

No, not while she "thrills him" with "all her charms". It is just a cold hard fact that, whatever you do, "someday" she'll wear his ring. That's just how it is. Once a Jersey Girl gets her hooks into your son, he's gone.

I hope that helps. Your Tom Waits song is "Downtown Train"... haha, just kidding. It's "Jersey Girl".




Down by the shore, everything's alright. You with your baby on a Saturday night.



4) This next question is nowhere near as profound or important. Someone called "John Passant" (and I cannot for the life of me understand why anyone would invent such a patently false and frankly ridiculous name) wants to know:


How can we get rid of Carlo Sands? Send him to interview Tony Blair? Only one would be left alive. But who?


Now, this is actually a hard one for me to answer, because I simply do not understand this desire to rid the world of Carlo Sands. I mean, have you not SEEN my cheekbones??? The world needs such beauty at a time of such ugliness.

As to who would be alive after I interview Tony Blair, the answer is I would not interview a wanted war criminal. I mean that is just fucking stupid.

Obviously a war criminal who has evaded capture for so long is a dangerous man and would not be willing to accept an interview from one such as me without arriving heavily armed and with extensive back-up.

I mean, as a journalist of sorts, I would obviously do anything for a story -- so long as there was no risk whatsoever to my well being. So no, you'll have to try harder if you want to bring Carlo Sands undone!!!

Here is your Tom Waits song. It is highly appropriate to your question, but I'll leave it to the reader to decide whether Tom is growling about my good self or Mr Blair.




Some say they fear him
Others admire him
Because he steals his promise
One look in his eye
And everyone denies
Ever having met him
Ever having met him...




5) Ah, now here we go. This is more like it. My old friend and occasional "Alcoholic's Guide To" contributor Conehead the Barbituate has a highly pertinent and topical question:


Know anyone who can lend me some cash?


Well, yes. A very good question indeed. And one to which, to be honest, I wish I knew the answer myself. What I suggest, Conehead, is you ask absolutely everyone you can think of and, if you get a positive response, make sure to tell me who they are and give me their phone number, email and home address.

Failing that, do you know anyone called Frank? Coz here is your Tom Waits song.




See you tomorrow, hey Frank can I borrow a couple of bucks from you?



6) OK, someone called "DMCDF's dhopec lyric's blog" (seriously, some of the parents out there... they should be jailed for child abuse the names they lump their kids with) wants to know:

Dear Carlo, Waleed Aly claims that the arab spring was a byproduct of the invasion of Iraq. Is that true?

Ah, finally! A question about geopolitics! Well, you have come to the right place. I am very glad you asked me this question, because few others would have the courage and common sense to say to you straight out: "What the FUCK are you ON ABOUT???"

This Waleed character clearly has no clue what he is saying and you referrencing him as some sort of "expert" does you no credit, DMCDF (if I may call you that, only "Mr blog" sounds terribly formal).

Arab Spring a by-product of the invasion of Iraq??? HA!!! No, I think you'll find the Arab Spring was a by-product of the fucking repression, brutality, exploitation and betrayal of common people's interests that the regimes targetted by the Arab Spring were responsible for!

This, of course, was combined with their support for neoliberalism and worsening social conditions caused by the global economic crisis, with rising food prices and greater unemployment!

I mean sure, maybe to the degree these regimes were complicit in supporting the Iraq invasion, I mean that cannot have helped the sense of alienation from their rulers ordinary people felt. Sure. I will conceed that. But really. I mean come on! This is a serious blog. Such pathetically infantile questions and approaches to serious matters is unworthy.

You want to know what the Iraq invasion led to? You really want to know? I will tell you. It led to songs like this one, which is your Tom Waits song.




I had a good home but I left
I had a good home but I left, right, left
That big fucking bomb made me deaf, deaf
A Humvee mechanic put his Kevlar on wrong
I guarantee you'll meet up with a suicide bomb
Hell broke luce
Hell broke luce




7) Someone calling themselves "Simon Ronald" asks the next question (and for fuck's SAKE people, if you MUST make up a name, at least TRY to make it believable). "Simon" wants to know:


Dear Carlo, I keep touching my eyebrows and I have bald patches and a little sore. What can I do? Simon


OK. Well, first of all, what KIND OF FUCKING *FREAK* are you??? You keep touching your eyebrows??? WHAT THE FUCK???

I am not in the least surprised that you have bald patches and a little sore! And, actually, I now fully understand why you chose such a patently false name under which to ask this question. You are quite rightly utterly ASHAMED of your actions.

I don't know how I can help you. I am not sure you CAN be helped. You are a degenerate who cannot resist the temptation to touch your own eyebrows, even though you know full well the horror of your actions. I pity you. Here is your Tom Waits song. It is for degenerates like you.




My will has disappeared
Now my confusion is oh so clear
Temptation, temptation, temptation
Whoa, whoa, temptation, temptation
I just can't resist




8) OK, the FINAL question comes from Andrew Bolt. I'll admit to being a little flattered that Andrew took some time out of his busy schedule inciting race riots to ask me something. At least, that was until I read the fucking question! Which is:



How do we reconcile quantum theory with relativity?


Oh Jesus FUCK! Now I know why so many people have a serious beef with this prick! How do we "reconcile quantum theory with relativity"??? Look, I am a FUCKING BUSY GUY, ANDREW!!! YOU FUCKING THINK I HAVE THE FUCKING TIME TO FUCKING SIT DOWN AND FUCKING STUDY GODDAMN QUANTUM THEORY JUST BECAUSE YOU ARE TOO GODDAMN LAZY, YOU RACIST FUCK?!?!?!?

SERIOUSLY, YOU UTTER PRICK, STOP TRYING TO DRAG THIS COUNTRY EVER CLOSER TO A FASCISTIC TOTALITARIAN DICTATORSHIP FOR THE MASTER RACE AND TRY TO *EDUCATE* YOURSELF IN *AT LEAST* SOME OF THE FUCKING *BASICS* OF QUANTUM MECHANICS!!!

Fuck. Jesus, I mean... just FUCK YOU!!!

Here is your Tom Waits song. I am not sure you deserve one, but I *DID* promise and Carlo Sands is a man of his word. And this one truly is for you, Andrew. You should study every word.




There aint enough raised right men, there's your trouble.



ALRIGHT! There you bastards go! You asked me the questions you most desperately wanted answered and I complied! I worked night and day to get you these answers! And more than just answers... I gave you, EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU, a Tom Waits song too (which can all be heard via this very handy YouTube playlist).

Jesus, sometimes I think I do TOO MUCH, you know? If you want to give a little something back, then I strongly suggest you consider buying me a beer, which can be achieved via the PayPal button down the right hand side.

DO YOU HAVE *MORE* QUESTIONS FOR ME??? HUH??? JUST CAN'T STOP HARASSING CARLO SANDS??? Then by all means, ask them in the comment section under this post and I shall answer them PROMPTLY! And this time, I shall give you a song by Americana/roots/folk/country duo Shovels and Rope to go with each answer!



Friday, September 26, 2014

Abbottalypse Now! On Abbott, Bernardi, Palmer, Putin, Israel and GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING COLDPLAY

Well jesus fuck this fucking country. Seriously you cannot keep up. The fucking video below was shot like a month ago and since then the descent into insane fascistic crap has escalated rapidly. Because YEAH I fucking LIKE to mix my phrases as though something can both descend and escalate at the same fucking time! THAT IS HOW I FUCKING ROLL!

This was the second Green Left Weekly annual comedy night in Sydney. The first one was last year and called "Welcome to the Abbottoir" and this year was called "Abbottalypse Now!" so you know, there is a roaring trade in lame Abbott puns going on. At least someone is doing OK out of this horrific ultra-right wing government of lunatic class war ideologues that never saw a poor person they didn't want to kick or a racial minority they did not feel a burning desire to demonise.

I mean Jesus FUCK. Just... anyway. You can see my performance at last year's show. You can also see Shayne Hunter's performance at this year's show. it also featured Alice Fraser, Mark Williamson and Nick Sun. But here is my FUCKING THING!

TRIGGER WARNING: Includes referrences to Coldplay.





Thursday, September 25, 2014

'This too shall pass...' Australia probably needs this song right now


This too shall pass so raise your glass to change and chance, and freedom is the only law shall we dance...

Australia probably needs those lines by the ever-glorious Stephin Merritt right now. And by "Australia" I mean that section of it, which may not be a majority but is probably bigger than seems the case by simply following any section of the mainstream media, watching in some despair at the seemingly ever-growing turn to fascistic madness -- pushed by a desperate government on the ropes due to the deep hatred generated by its savage class warfare against the majority -- that has taken over a country that was... well, let's be honest, already PRETTY FUCKING FUCKED UP FOR A LONG TIME.



When the rhythm calls the government falls. Here come the cops.
From Tokyo to Soweto viva la musica pop.
We are black & white and we dance all night down at the hop,
and the letters were tall on the Berlin Wall viva la musica pop.
So if you're feeling low stuck in some bardo,
I, even I know the solution
love, music, wine and revolution.
love, love,
love music, wine and revolution.
This too shall pass so raise your glass to change and chance,
and freedom is the only law shall we dance...

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Tom Waits rocks. That's all. Two songs. Buy me a beer some time.

Because, you know, I haven't posted a Tom Waits song for a while. In fact, not since December last year. Also, most of the Waits' songs I have posted tend to be devastatingly heartbroken ballads, of which I proved in my groundbreaking post Tom Waits' Top 20 Tearjerkers Of All Time that Waits is a master, second to none.

I did include a wider range in my considered Top 20 Songs of the Past 20 Years list, which rather conservatively only featured 19 songs by Tom Waits, But still. I figured the world needs me once more to post Tom Waits and to post Tom Waits live and rocking out as only Tom Waits (and his band of brilliant musicians) knows how.

So here is a song that is neither a devastatingly sad song of melacholic beauty, nor from the past 20 years. It is a live version of "Sixteen Shells From A Thirty-Ought-Six" from 1983's Swordfishtrombone album. Waits is in his full "mad-preacher-as-frontman" mode and the band... well they rock.

It is followed by a live performance of the title track off his 1980 Heartattack and Vine album, just to prove that, whatever you do, you'll be anywhere near as cool as Tom Waits.




'I strum it loud just to rattle his cage...' 




'Don't you know there aint no Devil, there's just God when he's drunk.'


Right. There you go. Buy me a beer sometime. In fact, do it now! Seriously. There is a PayPal button on the right hand side of the blog. ALL MONEY DONATED WILL BE SPENT ON BEER! THAT IS A CARLO SANDS GUARANTEE!!! JUST A COUPLE OF EASY CLICKS TO BUY ME BEER!!!

Tuesday, September 02, 2014

I'm so sorry for what I did. Here, have some Shovels and Rope and Hayes Carll to make up for it

You know, it's hard to admit when you are wrong. Luckily for me, then, that I wasn't.

However, it is true that my last post was about that strange and disturbing "celebrity" called (for what I am sure is some horrific reason) "Redfoo" and I did fail to provide a "trigger warning".

Now, as part of my research for that post, I subjected myself to some of the clips for Redfoo's "songs" and, believing pain shared is pained doubled, felt it was only fair readers also had the chance to have their faith in the future of humanity decimanted by posting the clips as part of the post.

It had to be done. I am sorry, but it did. THE WORLD HAD TO KNOW! But I am truly sorry for any suffering my actions caused.

To make it up to my huge number of readers, fans and fanatical followers, I hearby provide some brain-cleansing music from two of the greatest acts on God's Own Earth -- Shovels and Rope and Hayes Carll.

I have ranted on the glories of both on this blog at some point. Hayes Carll is the brilliant country singer-songwriter from Houston, Texas who has never written a bad song. He is your classic drunken and slightly dishevelled troubadour, staggering from gig to gig with various degrees of facial hair, singing songs alternately witty and heartbreakingly beautiful.

Hayes has increasingly made a name for himself in the US with the sheer quality of his songwriting and performances, but he is not well-enough known in this country by any measure. I saw him in Sydney a couple of years ago with maybe 100 others, max, and he was stunningly brilliant.


Also, this beer can from the US reads 'To Carlo, love Hayes' and was sent to me by DonnaCat, my friend/only person I know from Arizona, who got him to sign it after a gig. It may be the most valuable thing I own.


Shovels and Rope... well... they are another act getting increasing well-deserved attention and critical acclaim. They are the truly glorious husband-and-wife duo of Cary Ann Hearst and Michael Trent, both established performers before joining forces -- Hearst a country singer, Trent heading a rock'n'roll band. Together... they are something else.

With the pair alternating between guitar and drums, their music is ragged, rowdy, rough-edged and earthy. It is filled with raw energy and features absolutely beautiful harmonies. That combination -- of the raw earthiness of their frill-free recordings (their breakthrough album O' Be Joyful was recorded in the back of their van while they travelled around gigging endlessly), with the beauty of their harmonies raises their tales of low-life desperados, murderers and battlers to a whole other level.

Listening to Shovels and Rope is one of those all-too-rare experiences in this godforsaken world -- it actually makes me feel happy. They are so good, I feel like crying when I hear them.

There are, of course, countless labels thrown on their music -- from "Americana" to a wide range of subgenres ending in "-folk" or "-country". It is the kinda thing they take up in a good-natured way in their song Cavalier.

But all that really matters is Shovels and Rope are how music should sound, a reminder that late monopoly capitalism has not, despite its best efforts, snuffed out all talent or enthusiastic energy out of popular music.

They have also just released a great new album called "Swimmin' Time" and there is a documentary I am desperate to see about them called "The Ballad of Shovels and Rope". Tragically, I also have no beer can signed by either half of Shovels and Rope.

So here are the clips. One Shovels and Rope song as a taste, then a clip of an extended live performance, then the formula is repeated for Hayes Carll.

AND THEN THERE IS A *TOM WAITS* BONUS!!! I KINOW RIGHT??? A TOM WAITS BONUS!!! Yes, clips of Shovels and Rope and Hayes Carll each covering a Tom Waits song live!


***




Shovels and Rope!!!






'We're hanging here within an inch of our lives, from the day we're born till the day we die...'




'I love you like gunpowder loves a good spark...' Just one of the great lines...


***




Hayes Carll!!!





'Ah, some people just gunna sneak on through, others gotta rattle that cage...'




"I'm gunna leave these blues behind, for some other fool to find...' HA! As if Hayes! As if.



TOM WAITS BONUS!!!




'You're the letter from Jesus on the bathroom wall, you're Mother Superior in only a bra...' Shovels and Rope cover the title track from Tom Waits' most recent album.




'When I see the five o'clock news, I don't wanna grow up...' Hayes' covers Tom's classic from his 1992 album Bone Machine.


EXTRA EXTRA BONUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yeah I know what you are thinking! The Tom Waits Bonus is just AWESOME surely there is NOTHING ELSE AWESOME to give us???

Well... indeed there is an extra bonus after the first extra bonus! And that is... a "duet" between Hayes Carll and Shovel and Rope's Cary Ann Hearst!!! I KNOW RIGHT??? HOW MINDBLOWING AWESOME IS THAT??????????




'You were falling like the Alamo, talking fast and drinking slow...' This duet was featured on Hayes Carll's 2011 album KMAG YOYO.

No need to thank me for all this, world. Just buy me a beer some time. No, seriously, BUY ME A BEER I AM REALLY FUCKING THIRSTY!




Friday, August 29, 2014

Wow! You are kidding me! A reality TV show judge got glassed??? Who'd have guessed?

If you are anything like me, you'd have greeted the news on Thursday morning that X Factor judge "Redfoo" had been glassed in an incident at a Double Bay hotel the night before with a resounding "who the FUCK is Redfoo?" followed rapidly by "WHY the fuck is Redfoo???"

Now I don't in any way endorse the glassing of Redfoo, I really don't. For three simple reasons:

1) Glassing is a barbaric practice.
2) I am against violence in pubs on principle due to the unacceptably high risk of booze getting spilt.
3) It means I now know who the fuck Redfoo is.

Of the three, the last is unquestionably the worst. I have long been aware I was not exactly "in touch" with much of mainstream popular culture, but never, until I learned of Redfoo's existence, have I been so grateful for that fact.

Now, it is not nice to glass someone. It really isn't. And sure, while you might say anyone who hangs out in Double Bay probably had it coming, it is still pretty damn unseemly, to say the least.

And yet... and yet...

I just cannot help but think... I mean... come on... who among us has not, at some point in our lives, wanted to glass a reality TV talent show judge? I call any prick that tries to deny that a goddamn LIAR!

I mean *sure*, I'll agree, as was pointed out to me in a discussion on Facebook, that if you are gonna glass one of these bastards, then Kyle Sandilands is without question the most obvious and deserving target... but, then again, by all accounts Kyle was not in the pub!

(Also, by all accounts, Kyle is gonna die soon anyway so why waste a decent glass?)

Admitting that is not in anyway to endorse the actual act, but you know, before we rush to condemn the attacker, let us all recall Jesus's wise words -- that before we judge another, we should try walking a mile in their shoes.

I mean, we might not approve of this bloke's methods, but if we found ourselves 15 schooners the worse and suddenly our goddamn pub was taken over by some prick with really stupid hair, ridiculous oversized glasses WITH NO LENSES IN THEM and some variety of costume a drunken five-year-old would feel embarrassed to be seen in ... well COME ON! Who among us can honestly say that, faced with the sheer HORROR of it all, in a sudden desire to be rid of the SMUG, PRETENTIOUS and TOTALLY TALENTLESS SHIT THAT HAS SUDDENY ENVELOPED OUR PUB... we may not have decided to take matters in hand?

It is wrong to do so. Of course it is. But that doesn't mean you can't understand where the impetus comes from.




 Redfoo. I don't know why... any of it... either.



See, in researching this blog post (the sacrifices I make), I now know FAR MORE about Stefan Kendal Gordy, who for some truly inexplicable reason calls himself "Redfoo", than I ever wanted.

It is not just the fake glasses or dumb costumes, this is a guy who is famous coz he is the son of someone who meant something in popular culture -- the guy who founded Motown Record Company -- and whose own contribution has been to form some horrific group called "LFMAO" (get it???) with his nephew.

And yes, as research, I actually subjected myself to some insanely ridiculous clips, like the one below.


 

He's sexy and he knows it.



I even watched a full performance of one his "songs". Warning: it features the opening ones: "The Foo! The Foo!"


 

'The Foo! The Foo!'


Further lines include: "I'm laid-back! I'm feelin this! Tonight's the night and I just wanna let it go! Hit the play back, I know your feelin this, c'mon baby, lets get ridiculous!"

The Foo continues:

And I love to dance, this be the beat that'll shake ya pants
Shake ya pants, yeah take a chance, and if ya can't move ya feet then wave ya hands
Wanna know a lil something bout me? (Hey!) I was born to rock the party
I was born to rock your body, I'm fresh, I'm slick, I'm ladi dadi, oh!

OH YEAH BABY!!! 

But The Foo goes on!!! I know what you're thinking! You're thinking: "Where can The Foo go from here??? He has NAILED the whole 'It is a party and I like parties' thing. .. Surely there is LITERALLY NOTHING else any grown adult could possibly want to say on the topic???"

But that is where you'd be wrong! For the Foo explains:

All the time I be seeing you at school, 
And you so fine I just had to play it cool
You blow my mind, all the crazy things you do
I see that you wanna act a fool so baby, lets get ridiculous!

YEAH! HE BE SEEING YOU AT SCHOOL!!! That is like really cool and not in any way creepy despite the fact that "The Foo" actually like turns 39 in September and, if he was at school, it would be as the geography teacher, the gardener and/or the local peodophile.

I mean, just watch as much as this clip below as you can stomach and then see if it is any mystery HOW Redfoo ended up glassed.


 

'You could be my new thang'


Now I know the justification for all this is it is deliberately and consciously cheesy and knowingly OTT.

Except I think "The Foo" plays the "let's make it really bad and pretend it is a joke" card... because he is actually just really bad.

And I don’t think his sexism is some sort of ironic act. I just think he is really sexist. Because, on available evidence, "thang" is literally how Redfoo refers to women. So for instance, when he was glassed he was, by various accounts, surrounded by a number of women. But not by his own account.

No, by his own account, he was "sitting in the back area with my mates, surrounded by some thangs". You get it? Some “thangs"!!! IE: SOME WOMEN!!! THIS GUY IS A CHARMER!!!




Did I mention the guy has no lenses in his glasses?


The Foo took to twitter not long after the attack to claim: "Jealousy is a hell of a drug."

Look, maybe. But also, Redfoo, maybe you are also just some middle-aged man in a band with your own fucking nephew who wears stupid glasses and performs totally creepy songs with sexually suggestive lyrics involving school students.

Doesn’t mean you deserve to be glassed, maybe. But also, maybe you probably don’t deserve to be on national TV and also... let’s be frank.... you should probably not be left unattended around young female school students. I mean, I am just going by your own words here, dude.