All These Years Thinking There Was No God.






This kid is funny. Mostly it's his links.

I like the cut of his jib. I like to keep up on what's going on in Galway, Hope County.

Th' Lightfoot RepubliKKKan WeeKKKend Roundup

Oh, yes indeedydo and a fuckin' tax kut ta yoooo.

Big week for the fat fux in th' GOP, dawg, yes yes yes.

In breaking news, several million Americans took a butt-shellackin' by our fat bespectacled friends of Himmler.

Many millions of them were told to like it so they did. They UH UH OW OOOH liked it real good.

Bush mamma th' elder (she of the one dollar bill) thought the Katrina refugees (sorry- "Future Other-Abled") were sitting mighty pretty in the fucking Exxondome. Bush mamma the younger warned us all of the dangers of Hurricane Corrine Corrina.
Dribbleya got the beleaguered DPW of Lake New Orleans to fire up some goddamn generators so he could make his cruddy little speech in a glow of Christ light and many no doubt went without 'lectricity for their respirators and that.

But, hey- who fucking cares? Right? Fuck 'em!

In other news I heard some dillhole (what does that mean?) who is like some chief science officer for the Heeby Jeebis White House object to mobilizing against global warming "because if we're going to spend billions we'd better darned well have our facts straight".

Boy, yeah. That's a good idea. Good to have those kooky factoroonies reckinned right.

Am I the only one simultaneously chuckling and horking up lung chunks into my lap on that one? Huh? Fu-huh-huhuck that HURTS. Trust me. Mmmm. Yummy lung chunks. Kind of black 'n' smoky, but goo-oo-od.

Oh, you fuckers. Oh, it's like a perfect storm. It's the Fat Bespectacled leading the Fat And Stupid.

Hey, fuckers- I'm not a patriot. I'm not. I'm a bad American. I'm no patriot. I like France whisper whisper. See, French people have as much to do with their country's bad decisions as me 'n' mine have to do with America's bleak calls. 'Bout as much. See? See how it's the same? See how you have to apply the same standard of judgement?

See, other countries aren't "red" and "blue". It's just downright kooky.

You should go see one sometime. I mean, before the Endtimes. Most of 'em have MiKKKy Dee's now so you don't have to go without.

Fucking assholes.

Ah, what else? What else?

Oh, I took an elbow to the face today in basketball. Not a fucking PEEP out of fucking FEMA.


Ah, yes, and the emminent Mssr. Le Viscount LaCarte chimed in on 'bortion today. A fine read.

Here's the dealio with that- Conservative polesmokers seem to think 'bortion will go away if we legislate it away. Yeah, that'll work out real good, you Small Government folk. Yeah, that's how it works. That's why no one smokes weed or drinks 'n' drives. boy, put that shit down on a piece of paper and away it goes. It's like Republican MagiKKK.

So, here's what I think about you emminently compassionate polesmokers- you don't really fuckin' care if it goes down or not, you just wanna wash your hands of it so you and yer fella bowhunters kin get in to heaven registered trademark. So you can check th' box on the Saint Peter In Triplicate form.

How's about this- all you're going to do is make it so only your rich li'l white girls can get 'bortions safely. Little Missy and Prissy Rove can jet off to Sweden after the roofies do their work and the naughty frat boys knock 'em up. All the others? hey- it's like everything else in your vision of AmeriKKKa registered trademark, right?

Hey, fuck 'em. They can fucking die in alleys, right? Fuck 'em.

No, hey- FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. Get a fucking clue, you fucking bowhunters. Life is a dirty god damn mess. It's all wrapped up with guts and bad deaths. You can't Cinemax it away as much as you'd like to, you idiots.

And that, my friends and not-so-friends, is the Lightfoot RepubliKKKan Weekend Roundup. Registered Trademark.






Glurp I Have Untreated Banditis

What the fuck kind of good idea is it to have three or more grown men trying to work out music? Jesus, what a hassle.

I love what Lennon said when he was talking about the "Get Back" thing- he's talking about The Beatles being grown men and what a stupid and unpleasant idea rehearsal is to grown men.

I say let's meet on stage. Let's have some beers in us before we interact. Let's be really skilled and really focused. I'm not going to say "professional" because if you want to be "professional" just be a really good lawyer or loan processor or doctor or maitre deeee. I mean, come on- music made by "professionals"? Creepy.

Oh, a couple other things- don't beat up on me because I write good songs and I know how they're supposed to sound. If you don't write good songs be grateful someone in the band is talented enough and don't fucking undermine them. If you must, maybe you should play in a nice cover band. There's money in it. Do a gayass McCartney tribute band so no one ever has to put their shit on the table.

Songs aren't a thing that is put there for you to territorially piss on. If it's about that for you, maybe you should instead be gardening, or some other trade wherein there are benefits to territorial pissing.

It's not about you. It's about the song. And no, it's not about me, the songwriter. It's about the song. It's about the motherfucking cocksucking fuckin' song. It's not my goddamn fault I was chosen as its way of getting to Earth. No, there's no fucking guitar solo.

No, I'm not angry because you played a clam onstage. That would be ridiculous. I play many a clam. Sometimes I play the goddamn Oysters Royale. But I never take my eyes off the audience and I never take my ears off the band. We're supposed to react to each other. We're supposed to be greater than the sum of our parts. If we really, really listened to each other we could take the music to amazing places. I'm not angry about the clam. I'm angry because we don't listen to each other and as a result our dynamics are from 7 to 10 instead of from 0 to a fucking million. I'm angry about what could be and never will be because of ego.

Don't you realize there are people here trying to enjoy themselves? It's about them. It's not about your ass. Jesus Christ. This is why people hate live music.

If you are afraid of projecting, of embracing the audience whoEVER they are, don't be ashamed to BACK THE FUCK UP and let Bobby take over. The audience isn't in it for right notes, trust me. They're there to fucking SEE something. Pretend we're a movie. People want to see and hear something unexpected and crazy. People don't go to boring, self-involved movies where you always know what's going to happen and the dynamics are 7-10. I sure's shit wouldn't go.

There are only so many stages on the planet. Either you belong on some of them or you're just plugging the shit up so good people have to wait around. If you don't belong onstage then don't fucking be there.

Oh- if you're a boring person? Odds are good you'll be a boring performer. Here, take this little test:

1. Are you boring?

I have untreated Banditis. I thought it had backed off but it's chronic.

I hate teaching people songs. I'm so oversensitive to "imposing" after years of this shit that I get flustered and I come off impatient. If I have to explain something a couple of times I get nervous that someone's going to think I'm lording it and I get irritated by that and I come off as a dick.

I'm jealous of succesful people who can "cast" a project based on the needs of the repertoire. It's different when there's money and a track record on the table. You can get what you want and what's right for the thing.

Here's how I would cast my band if I was succesful and I could "cast" a project based on the needs of the repertoire:

guitar- me
drums- moi
bass- fucking me
keyboards- my ass.
lead vocals- me
backup vocals- mes

In heaven I'll get my band and it'll all be me and I'll be able to reproduce my recordings PERFECTLY. no arguments, no egos, no nothin'. And for the finale this huge curtain comes up and it's the LSO but it's me on every fucking instrument.

And the audience will be every musician who's ever undermined me to spank their own ego. Oh, it'll be a packed motherfucking house.