Beware stupid people in large numbers....

September 13^th – Do you remember those one-sided conversations when you were a kid? Those ones that went,

“And if Jason Bigelowe told you to jump off that cliff, would you?”

“No, mum.”

“No, so why….?”

and the conversation would end just about there with a triumphant parent and a crestfallen you.

I know, you know, we all know that there’s always going to be the fuckwit in the feather factory. The one who, instead of using these soft items for snuggling down in, uses the quill end to poke people’s eyes out. Trouble is you can’t tell the pokers from the snugglers; no label, no neon sign tracking them that says;

 Beware, stupid shit underneath this sign,

 so they get admitted along with the rest of humanity to some gathering or other and then create havoc by thinking it’d be a good idea to throw some piss in plastic bottle into the crowd or set light to someone’s trousers; what poppets. In either case because you’re extremely unlikely to ever find out who it was that engaged in the merriment so you can punch their lights out, they move on to the next gathering where they can show their originality by doing exactly the same thing again complete with their minds like a cardboard box; one shape and full of air.

Far better if we could get them to self-destruct, like the tape in the opening of…that difficult task TV show…erm…Tom Cruise did a film… Mission Impossible. That’s it! Get them to self-destruct, like the tape in the opening of Mission Impossible. That way they’d only be able to do their thing just once before they imploded like a shot-gunned telly thereby limiting the possible collateral damage…(wasn’t that a Tom Cruise film too? Collateral? Wow, I’m on fire tonight! And for once, I actually though Mr. Cruise was half-way decent in that…didn’t his co-star get nominated for an Oscar or summat? Jamie Foxx…? Look at him go! Two names straight off; brilliant!) Anyway, enough of the self-congratulation; if self-destruction was used as a closure mechanism on such tomfoolery just think how much nicer communal events would be.

When Mr. Vance and Mr. Belknap shot themselves in 1985 it was stated by the survivor that their suicide attempt (successful in the case of Mr. Belknap, not so Mr. Vance) was caused by them listening to the lyrics of Judas Priest songs (the fact they were doing alcohol and dope at the same time having nothing to do with their decision of course) and Black Sabbath tracks and we all know they’ve been solely responsible for the upsurge in Satanism during and since the 70’s (Dennis Wheatley,  Aleister Crowley and human-kinds insatiable fascination with afterlife having nothing to do with it of course).

Thing is, rock music has been draped with all the ills of modern society ever since Elvis Presley thrust his pelvis into the face of middle-America, and the Christian right in the States has fuelled the fire throughout this time; like a musical, KKK, have vilified and damned the Devil’s Dancetunes. It’s an easy target ‘cos it involves the young and the young have big ideas about how to change the world but too little experience with which to articulate it so they chant the words of others and dance. Nevertheless, this causes palpitations in the breasts…(can I say that?)…in the breasts of those in charge of the status quo so they find ways of degrading it, ways of affiliating it with bogey-man, of frightening small children with dire consequences to their health and hearth should they take the words of these demon-preachers as gospel, as a way to build a life, a community, a nation. And, if they fail they can always be backed up by the wanker in the crowd to help their cause and justify their dire warnings.

On this day in 1960 in the UK, a movement to ban Ray Peterson's new single Tell Laura I Love Her’ was started. The fear was that the song’s powerful story of a stock-car driver, who dies young while racing for the love of his girlfriend, will inspire a death cult amongst teenagers. I don’t want to sound callous, but this is where my earlier suggestion of self-destructing arses comes into play: The Darwin Awards await.