SPOILER SPEAKS

I"M A MEMBER OF THE...

2009-09-22T22:32:00.005-04:00

(click the image, dumbass)

WWW.SPOILERART.COM

2009-09-12T22:42:00.001-04:00

Updated. I think I might just use that blog from now on. Not sure.

THIS AGGRESSION WILL NOT STAND

2009-07-27T20:36:00.005-04:00

Big things are happening here at Spoiler HQ!

OMEGAS put a brand new song online, it will appear on the 4-song "Sonic Order" E.P. on High Anxiety Records this fall.

ADULT CRASH demo'd three new songs with the new and improved line-up.

FOREIGN BODIES just put out a demo.

Updates will follow, you mother fucker.

RIGHTEOUS JAMS, MORGADO, AND THE SUPERNATURAL

2009-07-23T16:58:00.002-04:00

It must have been around 1996 when my best friend Tom got the internet at his parent's place. I spent most of my summer there anyway, because his parents would go on trips and leave us tons of food and money to rent movies and nintendo games. He would always go online until he went to bed, which is when I would go online until ridiculously late hours of the night (a habit I can't seem to shake to this day).

One night I was talking to a girl who claimed her mother had supernatural powers. I laughed at her. I laughed until the mother, who was in the room with the girl, wanted to talk to me. Sure, why not, voodoo lady. She was actually really nice and funny, and asked me some questions. She asked if I had ever been able to tell if the phone was going to ring before it did, and such. She could tell I was not buying any of her mumbo jumbo, so she started to describe my surroundings. She could tell I was in a dark room, with a small light at the left of me. She could tell I was wearing shorts and a white t-shirt. This was all accurate, and no, Tom did not have a webcam.

I was still not buying it. Lucky guesses. I asked her how she knew. That's when it got real. She said she communicated with spirits, and she had found one near me. She said he was standing next to me, and was describing me and my surroundings to her. It sounds like some X-Files nonsense now, but to a teenager alone in a dark room, it was enough to feel uncomfortable.

She kept giving me accurate, detailed information. Then, she said I had a scar on my left leg, right in between my knee and ankle. HA. She slipped up. I did not have any scars on my legs. Bull Shit. So much for ghosts, lady. She replied claiming that sometimes she could see into the future. Yea, good save, I thought, but she guaranteed one day I would have a scar on my left leg as she described. Whatever, lady.

Almost a decade later I was on tour with Justice in the US. The Boston show was the record release for RJ's "Rage of Discipline" LP. I was moshing when Morgado started throwing garbage cans around and getting wild. At one point he grabbed me from behind and ran forward, for some reason or other, and I got smashed into the stage. I kept going, but after the song I noticed I was bleeding. Whatever.

I didn't realize it was a fairly deep cut until I took a shower that night. I put a bandaid on it and didn't worry about it much. I was on tour.

I don't remember how long it took me to realize that this wound had turned into a permanent scar. The stage had been about a foot high, and I got cut on my left leg, right in between my knee and ankle. I can't really describe how I felt when I remembered her, that fucking lady. That god damn supernatural ghost lady, she was right. That scar was staring right back at me. It hit me. I wasn't scared, or worried, but it was profound.

I don't really believe in ghosts, in spirits, or the supernatural. That said, I don't exclude them from my belief system either. I find it best to just not worry about it too much. I don't know how that lady predicted that scar. Maybe she took a wild guess, maybe she really did put a spirit next to me. All I know is she predicted the only visible scar I've ever had. Ironically, it did eventually fade. It was there for a good three years. So now, I don't even have proof of this ridiculous story anymore. Believe it or not, it matters little to me. But the Rage of Discipline record release will always have a different meaning to me than it does to you.

I LOVE THE INTERNET

2009-06-26T02:15:00.003-04:00

More email lolz: http://dontevenreply.com/

MOVE OVER, LOLCAT

2009-05-08T02:13:00.002-04:00

AND MAKE ROOM FOR KEYBOARD CAT.

Keyboard Cat Blog

THIS HAMMER I'VE GOT

2009-04-25T00:40:00.000-04:00

This just dropped today. Shoot out to Craig Arms.

FOUND

2009-04-09T01:00:00.001-04:00

I found this in my inbox after cleaning it up. I don't remember where I got it, but it's Porcell talking about Schism fanzine, so it's probably from LW. Either way, good read:

When I did the Agnostic Front interview for issue #7, I also wanted to interview John Watson, who was the original AF singer and by that time a notorious Cro-Mags roadie who spraypainted "CROMAGS" on every city block of the lower east side. One day I saw him in the health food store I worked at and told him I was doing an article on AF for my fanzine and asked if I could interview him. He looked right through me for about 10 seconds and then said "You're in maya (illusion) bro... HAAAARE KRISHNAAAA!" and walked away. On a side note, John Watson gets my vote for the best mosher/stagediver in hardcore history. As legends go he invented the circle pit. Whether that's true or not, one thing's for certain, he was the first to come up with the fistpunching "mosh dance" that kids do some 25 years later, but never with as much style as that guy.

I also saw James "The Russian" Kontra, the second singer for AF, on Avenue A one night around the same time and also asked to interview him for Schism. He just looked at me and didn't say a word. I'm not sure if he didn't speak English or wanted to kick my ass, but after about 60 of the most awkward seconds of my life, I just walked away. That dude was not one to be messed with.

Around the time I interviewed Al Barile of SS Decontrol for issue #8, SSD had gained a reputation as "sellouts" due to the releases of the overtly non-hardcore/classic rock vibes of How We Rock and Break It Up. When I asked him the question "How do you feel when people say SSD stabbed hardcore in the back?", the written word doesn't do Al justice, because his response was like an attacking pitbull as he screamed at the top of his lungs into the phone "Ya know what I think? I THINK HARDCORE STABBED US IN THE BACK!" Homeboy was pissed!

DOLPHINS, MOE

2009-03-17T18:19:00.005-04:00

©SPOILER'09

YOU DON'T WANT NO CHOCOLATE IN YO VANILLA?

2009-03-14T16:57:00.005-04:00

I just spent an entire saturday afternoon watching youtubes. It's 5 pm and I'm still in bed. I haven't even eaten breakfast yet. I watched a couple of early 90s rap jams and then some black metal parodies (theres some good ones out there) and eventually I stumbled upon an old classic, the perfect mix of both:

I found the caller's site, he's got a pretty sick remix of this call plus a bunch of other prank calls, some pretty good ones in there. Enjoy: Original Pranksta

I USED TO TAKE PICTURES

2009-03-12T19:42:00.003-04:00

YNGWIE

2009-02-23T10:19:00.004-05:00

The first tape my dad ever made me was a memorex with yellow labels, featuring Yngwie Malmsteen "Trilogy" on side A and Helloween "Keeper of the Seven Keys" on side B. I must have been around 6 or 7 when he gave it to me. Apparently it was the two records I responded to most, so he dubbed them for me so I could listen to them in my room.
Two decades later, I'm sad to say not a lot of people remember Yngwie (Helloween does a bit better). I see it as my duty to keep the spirit of music alive, so let's talk Malmsteen. This Scandinavian master basically tried to play operas on his guitar as a little kid, and so developed his own epic sound. The man was such an incredible guitarplayer that he could put out records under his own name, without even singing on them. He just got random dudes to sing and play the non-shredding instruments, like it was all just filler to him. Amazing. Well, if you want any more bland info, check wikipedia. I know you're too lazy to do that, or to download any of his albums, so here. Let's just go the youtube route. This is the video for "You Don't Remember (I'll Never Forget)", the first song off the Trilogy album (also my favorite Yngwie jam):

This video features everything a good cock rock video needs. Seen in chronological order:
Fast cars, men that look like fast women, pirate shirts, a drummer making obscene tongue gestures, a multitude of completely ridiculous guitar-throwing moves, bandanas tied around mic stands, Yngwie doing a low kick in spandex, Yngwie's classic pose (1:17), an obvious Cro-Mags reference (2:08), Marshall stacks, green alien lights emanating from a guitar during a ridiculous solo, and the best post guitar solo sequence in a music video ever: Yngwie waving at his guitar while playing a one handed outro to his own solo, footage of cops arresting a rocker interspersed with the bassplayer oddly swinging his bass left and right, imitating either a grandfather clock or a huge cock, Yngwie doing a high kick in spandex, and finally a good half minute of ridiculous poses intertwined with shots of the crowd, featuring a hot babe, who when viewed in slow motion clearly wants a piece of Malmsteen. As should anyone who just saw that.

COOCH SEZ

2009-02-16T19:15:00.004-05:00

"i just got a breakdown gig-soliciting tape today that pre-dates the '87 demo"

no big deal.

THOUSANDS OF WORDS pt III

2009-02-11T20:15:00.014-05:00

The memory on my phone is full, so here is every picture I took with it.

DANZIG LYRICS WORD COUNT

2009-01-09T13:12:00.006-05:00

I asked my friend Kim, who I speak to about Danzig and nothing else, which word she thought Glenn used more throughout his lyrical career: "Wolf" or "Hell". Her answer was Hell. Out of sheer curiosity and nerdery, I compiled a word document of every lyric Danzig ever released (no, I didn't put "Rat Fink" and no I didn't put any songs twice if they were recorded twice) and did a word count. Well, she was right. Here's a few results.

Hell: 165
Evil: 127
Blood: 120
Die: 109
Death: 101
Black: 96
Dead: 66
Pain: 66
Demon: 48
Mother: 32
Wolf: 25
Beast: 25
Horror: 22
Father: 13
Mars: 13
Dying: 12
Sex: 12
Cum: 7
Sexy: 0
Puppies: 0
Pizza: 0

He also used "World" a stunning 145 times, but that's not that cool. If there's any words you'd like me to do a count for, comment them and I will reply.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

2008-12-24T18:20:00.007-05:00

Oh wait, that's not Santa. That's Sinterklaas. He's the real deal. He's the guy that Coca-Cola ripped off to create Santa. He's a tall, skinny version with a pope hat and a sick golden staff. He looks like he could beat the shit out of Santa with that thing. On Dec. 6th he brings gifts to kids in Belgium and Holland. Not because of some lame religion, just because gifts are awesome. He comes down on his boat from Spain and brings oranges. He rides a white horse across the rooftops and he has slaves that go down the chimney to drop off the presents, and pick up the cookies and milk you leave him (plus a carrot for the horse - no joke).

If you're wondering who the dudes in the blackface are, well... those are his slaves. As a kid I was told their faces are black from going down the chimney, but as I grew I realized it was just straight up racism. People still keep up the chimney excuse, but then I wonder why they have big red lips painted on as well. The "black Petes" as they're called also like to run into class rooms and throw candy around. That shit is terrifying as a kid. I think they do it to scare you out of eating too much candy. Not sure.

Sinterklaas also carries a bag of presents just like Santa, but guess what else is in there? A stick. A stick for beating kids that were naughty. And if you REALLY fucked up, he puts you in the bag and takes you back to Spain. Dude just loves slavery I guess. Basically he is a hard version of Santa. A huge dude in a staff with a thing for kidnapping, not a jolly fatass. So that's Belgium in a nutshell for you. Slavery, racism, and free candy. Merry Christmas!

IF YOU JERKED OFF TOO MUCH...

2008-12-22T19:20:00.005-05:00

JERK OFF SOME MORE! You know how people used to say that if you beat it too much, you would go blind? Well, if that were ever to happen to you, here is the solution: Porn for the Blind! What a thoughtful organization. Thanks to Jessica Willow, the biggest pervert in the world, for the link. And if that doesn't do it for you, maybe try asking Santa for this.
PS I promise I will make real posts again before the year ends.

QUICK CLASSIC

2008-12-16T01:27:00.002-05:00

No time for real posts, enjoy this timeless scene until then.

I'M A KID - THAT'S MY JOB

2008-12-09T12:18:00.006-05:00

This is what I do when work is slow.

Miles and Buck

Buck and Pooter

RIP John Candy.

MOORDENAAR

2008-12-05T13:27:00.005-05:00

Osdorp Posse from Amsterdam was the first rap group to ever rap in Dutch. They started out in 1989 and put out their debut album in 1992. Back then, if you spoke dutch and you were cool, you had that shit. If you caught me walking down the street with my walkman in 1993 and I wasn't jamming Obituary, you know I was listening to this. These dudes were actually metalheads themselves, main rapper Def P is still rocking his long ass hair in this 1990 video. This is a different version of their infamous track "Moordenaar" ("Murderer"), recorded and shot for some tv show. Rare find! The song and its lyrics had the same controversial effect as Bodycount's "Cop Killer" did in the States at the time. It's pretty hilarious to see Osdorp now since it's some juvenile shit, plus they kind of turned into a joke, but back then the Posse was hard. Their logo was an upside down cross, and their lyrics were offensive. Def P had a trademark gimmick: he made up direct translations of common rap terms and phrases from english to dutch, and used these made up words in his songs constantly. He said his dutch version of "motherfucker" so often that it became popular enough to be added to the official dutch dictionary. You probably never heard of this guy, but when did you ever get a word into a dictionary?

CROWE

2008-12-03T21:32:00.011-05:00

Oh right, it's GPOYW again. In 2006 I was talking to my man Jesse Boots about how he was going to do a solo band ala Danzig in the future, and I was going to be his rhythm guitar player. The band would be called Crowe, after his last name, and the first album would be named Serpent (later on I would be starting another band under that name). I told Jesse I would start growing out my hair and practice my guitar skills. I recently took these promo shots to send to him, in hopes he would accept me into the band. I don't think he was expecting me to keep that promise. Spandex Youth '08!

Promo Shot:

Action Shot:

"Backstage" outfit:

TELEPHONES AND LETTERS

2008-11-27T00:51:00.001-05:00

I started to write when I was 14 years old. At the time my life evolved around death metal, nintendo, and masturbating to Callahans' pool scene in Police Academy III. I had zero interest in reading anything that wasn't a lyric sheet, and even less interest in writing. My best friend Tom and I spent a lot of time just hanging around his house watching movies and doing all kinds of stupid shit before we got into skateboarding. That particular summer, our thing was prank calling. The phone was right there, so was the phonebook, and we were pricks. We pulled some incredible pranks, too many to mention (ask me about them some time). But there was one in particular, the grand finale, one that changed my life.

It had to do with a combination of teenage boredom, Full Metal Jacket, and a guy named Dufour. One day after randomly dialing numbers, we ended up on an answering machine for a hair salon. The guy on the recording sounded, shall we say, not so manly. Being dumb teenagers from a small town, we figured all male hairdressers were gay, and having just seen that movie, we quoted the entire 'steers and queers' scene til the tape ran out. We continued that process throughout summer, sometimes even when someone answered the line. Soon enough "Dufour" became our joke slur of the summer.

The joke ended rather abruptly when the cops showed up at Toms house. Turns out good ol' Dufour had kept every single one of those tapes, had the number traced, and took the evidence to the cops. Turns out Mr. Dufour was actually gay. Turns out Mr. Dufour had problems with nasty phone calls in the past, including several death threats. I guess the cops were a little surprised when they found a couple of bored kids in tie dye Metallia shirts instead of the murderous gangsters they had hard-ons for. We had to go into the police station and speak to an officer, one by one. He pulled the good cop, bad cop routine, except there was no good cop. He tried to bully us and wouldn't believe that we had no idea that Dufour was actually gay. He was convinced we knew him, were purposely harassing him with finely crafted movie quotes, and may have been connected to the death threats.

Once the copper finally realized we were just a couple of stupid kids, he got Dufour to drop the charges, on two conditions: we were to pay for all the tapes and phone tracing equipment he bought (it was like 20 bucks, which is a fucking lot when you're a kid). And, he wanted a face-to-face apology. And that, my friends, was the worst one. Tom's mom drove us to Dufour's Hair Salon, and we went in to greet the thin, bleached blonde man who looked a little bit like the guy from Scooter. We stared at the floor and apologized. He had a talk with Tom's mom and mentioned that we had said some 'very naughty things'. He then looked over at us, uncomfortably hiding in a corner, and said 'I'm sure I don't have to repeat them'. Please, sir. Don't. I just wanna go home and catch the Simpsons. Well he didn't, which doesn't help he story much, but props, Mr. Dufour.

So that was it for hanging out at Tom's place. The rest of summer, I was on my own. Apparently I was considered a 'bad influence' to parents and I guess my mullet and Megadeth shirts weren't helping my cause. One day I was reading some kind of magazine that was available in schools nationwide or something, and it had an ad for pen pals. It sounded pretty lame, but I had no friends and no life. I placed an ad, and pretty soon the letters were flooding in. I asked all of them for pics and then replied to all the hot ones. Score! You're probably laughing at me right now, which is kind of the idea, but I'd still like to point out that this was all before the internet existed, and that I was a metalhead. That means I hung out with scumbags and girls didn't talk to us.

I got bored with all of this letter business pretty quick, but there was this one girl that I liked. I kept writing to her, and the letters kept getting longer. Through all of that penpalling I learned to express my thoughts in writing, and I've been doing so ever since. I guess I should mention that my teenage thoughts were often focused entirely on boobs. She had a huge rack, and she didn't mind me talking about it or wanting to know everything else that every boy in his puberty wanted to ask a girl, but never could. Well I could. It was awesome. Eventually I started to hang out with my friends again, and after a year or two, we lost contact. We tried to start it up a few times, but we were too old. I never did end up meeting her, and I think she ended up joining the army or something weird. But she was great. She is the reason I write, she's the reason I did a zine, she's the reason I could bullshit my way through my college papers, and she's the reason I'm writing this story. Well... her, Mr. Dufour, the cop, and Lee Ermey. Thank you.

ONE THOUSAND WORDS, pt II

2008-11-26T11:29:00.005-05:00

Priceless: Carl The Mosher rolling his eyes at Cappo in a pink dress. Pic by Ken Salerno, stolen from Double Cross for the lolz.

GPOYW/OI

2008-11-20T01:03:00.006-05:00

I figured out what GPOYW means, and I am jumping on the bandwagon ("Don't you mean off the wagon?"). It basically means once a week you get to be a stupid douche that posts pictures of himself and sort of get away with it. That said, it's also been one week since I shaved my head, so I have an excuse. Here it is, in it's full pathetic-myspace-picture-taking glory: an ode to my lovely locks. Goodbye, hair. You have served me well.

This is by far the best post I've ever done. To save face I wil say I listened to United Blood on repeat while I shaved my head, just like I did when I first shaved it, 7 years ago. And the question remains: I'm a skin, you're a skin, who's gonna suffer?

YOUR MIND IS BUSTING

2008-11-13T09:29:00.003-05:00

I don't want to be that guy that just posts youtubes on his blog, but check this out. Sent to me by Ewan, I first thought this was just another cutesy 'mellow' cover of a hardcore song, but I should have known better. After all, we're talking Walter here. This song is actually really well done. I sent it to my man Flip the Switch, and we got to talking about the cool references in the video. The obvious first one being A.F. written on his guitar (attn:noobs, this song is originally by Agnostic Front). I added that the kids throwing the eggs are wearing full camo outfits, a good nod to Vinnie Stigma's classic style. Flip noted that in the first shot, Walter is wearing shades and a chain around his neck, Raybeez style. The flowers in his basket may be for Raybeez (RIP) as later on the chain is hanging from the basket. There's a photo on the basket as well, which looks like it could be Ray. Hard to tell. Things we have yet to figure out are: what Walter's shirt says, what the drag racing refers to, and why there are no AF records in the record bin. If you notice any more nerd details, please contact me or FTS. If you just like this song, that's cool too. Thanks Walter.

THERE'S ONLY ONE WAY OF LIFE

2008-11-09T04:00:00.003-05:00

I never thought the day would come where I could write about a band consisting of a bunch of british hippies from the nineties with dreadlock rat tails, and have the focus of the text not be about how much I want to kick their ass. But here I am, about to speak highly of such people, though affected by melancholy.

The Levellers were huge in Europe in the early to mid '90s. Or at least in the shitty town I grew up in. Back then you were either into house music and thus wore yellow or orange pants, or you were 'alternative' and your favorite bands were Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and the Levellers (if you were angry, you also liked ratm). The Levellers were on everyone's list, and their hit song "One Way" was everywhere, all the fucking time. Obviously I hated the shit. I hated Nirvana, hated grunge, hated anything that was not related to Slayer.

See, I had long hair my whole life and had spent most of it being called a "beatle", a "girl" or a "fag". Nirvana meant that all of a sudden, every douchebag who gave me shit for my hair was ripping knee holes in their jeans and wearing flannels. They were being me. Every girl I knew had a crush on Kurt Cobain, a long hair, and they all got into being touchy-feely to grunge hits. Fuck that, if a song didn't have lyrics about satan, gross diseases or mutilation, I didn't wanna hear it. In my teenage brain, grunge had taken my shit and made a more acceptable, pussy version of it. The day after Cobain died, tons of girls stayed home from school. Then "Kurt Lives" started to show up on all the school benches, to which I added clever lines such as "...in your ass".

Anyway, over fifteen years later and a long way from the shit town I grew up in, whenever the 'alternative' era would be brought up with canadian friends, I'd always mention the Levellers. Eventually I realized no one knew who the hell they are. I couldn't believe it. That song is such a classic of that era. So I did some research on them, and it turns out they were in fact huge in europe but never in the states. I also found out that despite being folk punk hippie commies with dreads and a violin, they were kind of cool. They went out there and spread a pretty decent message to the masses. I'm sure it was all lost on the braindead morons that were their fans, but the lyrics to this song are pretty good along with a few others songs that I remember of them.

I kind of like this song now, I don't know if it's actually good or if it's just nostalgia from hearing that voice sing that chorus fifteen years later and thinking back of those days. Fuck, I'm getting old. But check it out, it might be terrible but at the very least you get to hear a real forgotten classic of the early nineties alternative era, euro style.

SIX MONTHS

2008-10-29T00:08:00.007-04:00

You can't really tell from this picture I just took through my window, but it's snowing outside. People always tell me I exaggerate when I say it snows six months a year in Montreal. Well, six months ago I did a post, stating that it was still snowing in Montreal. And here we are again. It's been almost six months of staring out that window, a miserable summer, so maybe this time I'll welcome back the snow. Oh wait, no I won't. Fuck you.

I USED TO WORSHIP SATAN

2008-10-14T01:03:00.006-04:00

If you've read this blog before, you know that I grew up in a family of hard rockers. I was born and raised to the sounds of Maiden, Helloween, and Sabbath. As I got older, metal got harder. My dad would come home with new albums from Metallica or Slayer and it's all we would listen to for days. My older brother always felt the need to outdo my dad, so he started getting into death metal bands like Carcass, Deicide, and Obituary. Being the youngest one, I had to try and do my best to keep up. When I was around 12, I had finally scraped enough allowance money together to order the most extreme album I could find: the Emperor/Enslaved split. I was now into black metal. Full on satan worshipping, church burning bands that murdered eachothers members and ate their remains. Fuck you, dad. And fuck Metallica, I heard those guys go to the gym.

Soon enough I was wearing an upside down cross around my neck. Well, actually it was just a cheap plastic crucifix I found, where I poked a hole through Jesus' feet and put some string through. Later on I also melted Jesus' face off, because that's how badass I was. Mind you, this was the early 90s, when black metal was still run by dudes that would carry dead ravens in a bag for sniffing purposes. Not a bunch of videogame testers that live in their moms basements and play the evil keyboard. Black metal had a cause, but since I was too young to be raping any nuns, I tried to do my part by carving upside down crosses, pentagrams or a straight forward "Satan" into pretty much anything I could find.

One late evening, in my room listening to Dark Funeral, I came to a painful realization. If I was a Satan worshipper, I was missing one pretty important part: the actual worshipping of Satan. Once I realized my faults, I knew I had to do it. Right then and there. I needed to immerse myself in evil, man. I lit one of my mom's candles, turned off the lights, and kneeled in front of my Baphomet poster (as seen above). Alright, sick. That's pretty evil for a twelve year-old. Now what? I didn't know any Satanic rituals, and that Anton Lavey Satanic Bible shit was too expensive. I didn't do drugs, so I figured I would just close my eyes and say some Satanic shit until I got into some trance, or something. Alright, let's say his name in many different ways to summon him, or something. That'll do the trick. Baphomet, Goat of Mendes, Lucifer, Satan, um... Satan. Satan. Uh... Satan. Yea, I just sat there saying "Satan" over and over for a few minutes. I don't know if I was expecting something really evil to happen, like maybe get possessed or something, but instead the door opened, which the Baphomet poster was on. So now, I'm facing my brother. On my knees. In candle light.

"Umm... do you... do you want some fries?" That was all he said. He was so weirded out he didn't even make fun of me. I got up, walked into the living room, and ate some fries like nothing happened. That was pretty much the end of my Satan worshipping days.

SOCIAL FUCKER

2008-10-11T02:19:00.003-04:00

This weekend is a milestone in my musical career. Omegas is releasing the 4-song "Psycho Dives on Slam Skank Anthems" Cassette Tape, and Adult Crash is recording eight songs, all on the same day! It's a Thanksgiving miracle! My only true inspiration to keep the Quebec music scene alive comes from two things. One: Being an OG Rock Dog, and two: the above classic by Madness Reign (best chorus, best songtitle, best bandname, best Special Defects). Updates will follow!

TOGETHER OR SEPARATE (internal dialogue pt. I)

2008-09-30T21:46:00.004-04:00

Separate bills? What the fuck do you think? I am wearing a t-shirt. Do I look like a yuppie that invited all these people for a business lunch? Do I look like I am going to pay for all of them? Do you think I will be needing the receipt? Are you retarded? Actually though, thanks for even asking. At least you didn't just show up with one bill for seventeen people without asking. I mean great idea, we all have exact change on us, it's going to make things much more convenient. You shouldn't take the two minutes to do your job and print out a couple of separate bills. We all love math, especially after a hearty meal. LOVE IT. We love figuring this out while you stand there gawking at us. And don't you fucking look at me that way, I said I want to pay with my fucking debit card, and you aren't going to say shit. I know you hate it, but guess what, I have yet to tip you. So smile all the way to the counter, smile while you hand over the little machine with the little buttons, and smile while pretending not to see I answered "Tip?" by pressing the little button that has the little "0" on it. Fuck you. Separate bills, always, all the fucking time, do not even ask. If I really want to be that schmuck that goes 'I got it guys' and then argue with the other guy for ten minutes because he also wants it to be known he is a good guy with money, well then I would be a fucking douchebag. So basically, you are implying that I'm a douchebag. That's it, I want to talk to your manager.

RETURN OF THE JOY BOYS

2008-09-11T00:30:00.005-04:00

Just letting you all know the Omegas put another track "Gimme Oblivion" from the Rock Dog Sessions up. The Summer of Hate is over, Ryan is done being a Commie Vampire, and Tony might get a saturday off work. In other words, we are back. Quick note about this track: Tony "The Vezz" Frenchman recorded that solo minutes after spending a few hours alternating between puking into a trash can and passing out on the studio floor (kind of ironic how the posman in the band was the one doing this, esti). The Vezz, the Legend. Oh, and we're also playing this:

YOU CAN COUNT ON ME, YOUR FELLOW MAN

2008-09-03T17:32:00.005-04:00

The other day I was talking to my man Hinkey. He said his band True Colors was playing some fest in Germany, and they had the brilliant idea of asking every band on the bill to write a blurb about every band on the bill. Sensing he was not up to the task, I offered to help my good friend out. He sent me the list of bands, most of which I'd never heard of, I wrote this little gem in about five minutes and sent it back. I think Hinkey ultimately passed up the opportunity of sharing my penmanship to the germans, so instead I will share it with you.

analena: named after packos sisters moms pastery chef, this band can do no wrong. sounds like madball.
blacklisted: named after the best breakdown record*, this band can do no wrong. featuring dave sosies!
cheap thrills: named after a great killing raw deal time song, this band can do some wrong, since they are from germany.
common cause: named after the label that put out the Krakdown EP, which isn't as good as the demos, but still pretty awesome, this band cannot do wrong despite having a German singer, who was in the best non-true blue german hardcore band. great band!
fallbrawl: named after two words that rhyme, this band is probably amazing. slick rick used to rhyme and he was the man, so these guys are great by default.
fargo: Fargo is based on true events that occurred in Minnesota in 1987 with the names changed to protect the victims. Jerry works in his father-in-law's car dealership and has gotten himself in financial problems. He tries various schemes to come up with money needed for a reason that is never really explained. It has to be assumed that his huge embezzlement of money from the dealership is about to be discovered by father-in-law. When all else falls through, plans he set in motion earlier for two men to kidnap his wife for ransom to be paid by her wealthy father (who doesn't seem to have the time of day for son-in-law). From the moment of the kidnapping, things go wrong and what was supposed to be a non-violent affair turns bloody with more blood added by the minute. Jerry is upset at the blood shed, which turns loose a pregnant sheriff from MN who is tenacious in attempting to solve the three murders in her jurisdiction. 8/10
goldust: named after a homosexual wrestler, whose dad was some famous wrestler in the 70s, which is when no one really gave a fuck about wrestling because a) acid was still good and b) the ultimate warrior, the undertaker and tatanka were not around.
the homefront: named after the homefront, which is possibly germany, these guys may or may not be fascists. since such rumors were spread about the best bands i have ever seen, such as dead stop, mumbo jumbo and agnostic front, these guys are in good company.
lighthouse: what the fuck. really? light house? that's the opposite bandname of shipwreck and shipwrecked (norway - great band) so make of that what you will.
make it count: named after a song most likely written by a posi band from 1997, these guys can do no wrong. i love BOLD.
nothing gold can stay: named after a line in a movie that was a book about greasers which quotes some other book, these guys feature members of H-Street who unfortunately looked like elvis presley last time i saw them, which rules unless you are not actually elvis presley. H-Street though, awesome demo. the last song sounded like COS 'impact' so much. epic.
oathbreaker: great name if you are sellouts. are they? named after sellouts? really? haha, i used the word sellout in 2008.
the real danger: named after a real danger, featuring de enorme bril on vocals, these guys are totally a hardcore band with the singer of uppercut, who used to beef with the singer from abusive action, who wrote one of the best demos of the zotte sfeer era. good times.
rhythm to madness: stief would always write thrashmetal riffs in between justice practicing. i knew it would happen one day. and here it is.
something inside: i once gave these guys a terrible review, but then they just sent me their next demo. i thought that was awesome. i also remember seeing one of those dudes at ieperfest '98, totally ripped and wearing an OG PX shirt, so this dude was way ahead of his time and is probably like 40 now. great band.
sunpower: de mon decker op drums. megazotte sfeer.
tomorrow tomorrow: named after duran duran, but with a different word, these guys are probably terrible. i mean you never know, they could sound like the singer from ENUF singing on the unreleased CFA EP, but somehow i doubt it.
true colors: named after the band that the dude from citizens arrest was in, these guys can do no wrong. featuring peers, who loves showing you his nutsack, packo who loves showing you his wang, and two members of the justice villa stomp crew. het is nog altijd geen uur voor frieten.
paint it black: named after a famous song by the Beatles, these guys are pretty old, but then so is abe vigoda, and he is the fucking best dude ever.
trash talk: these guys tried to cross into canada, and the border patrol noticed a sticker on their van of some rap group holding guns, and were like 'why do you guys have a picture of yourself holding guns on your van?'. racism in 2008, kind of fucked up.

*breakdown demos are not breakdown records

ONE THOUSAND WORDS

2008-08-30T17:11:00.000-04:00

REVIEW: BALL OF DESTRUCTION

2008-08-27T00:49:00.017-04:00

(This review is part one of a Vinnie Stigma Special series) Madball's "Ball of Destruction" E.P. came out in 1989 on In Effect/ Relativity Records.

This album, which is the best album ever written whenever you are listening to it, starts off with the songs "Smell the Bacon" and "What's With You" played back to back. The very first thing you can hear on this album is Roger Miret playing bass. That in itsself is something to think about. One of the coolest frontmen in hardcore for a decade, suddenly playing an instrument (not counting when he 'played' guitar on cable access). The second thing you hear on this album, is Vinnie Stigma. This very second is the same second that this record goes from great, to instant classic, such as with every other record that Vinnie Stigma ever played on*. The first thing that Stigma does on this album, is hit the shittiest powerchord you have ever heard. I don't know if he did that on purpose, or if he really didn't give a shit, and this is exactly why I love Stigma. The drums build up, and the next thing Stigma does is a pick slide, also known as the worst thing you could possibly do with a guitar. Pick slides are for assholes and have never sounded cool, ever. Except ofcourse, if done by the best guitarplayer in the world: Vinnie Stigma. The song gets going, and is composed of the manliest of manly riffs. It's hard, stupid, and amazing. After repeating this riff four times, the song is done. I can only picture Stigma writing this riff, and figuring well, what kinda fuckin' riff am I supposed to play after this? Fuck it, song's done. Next. So let's recap what we have up to this point: one song, consisting of one riff, that clocks in at about 20 seconds, featuring lyrics about cops (pigs, bacon, smell the bacon, get it?), and is basically just a moshpart.

As soon as this song is done, Will Shepler hits the snare, announcing that it is time for "What's With You". This song, unfortunately, I cannot review. I do not know how. OK, fine, let me try: this song consists of a two note riff, that is played and then stopped, interrupted by a split second pick slide, played and stopped again by another pick slide, then played faster four times through, paused again, then played even faster. Then, a two note 'moshpart' is played (which lasts for two seconds, and features the best line in music: "what's this fucking revolution about?"). Then, the fast part is played again. And that's it. The total of both songs played back to back adds up to zero minutes and thirty-three seconds. It is at this point that you realize you are, in fact, listening to the best music album of all time.

The next song is a little gem called "Discriminate Me", originally written by the Psychos and popularized by Agnostic Front. This means that Stigma had been playing this song for about a decade when "Ball of Destruction" was recorded. Discriminate Me is literally the only song that could have been played behind the madness that is the opening track/s, because the opening riff is, basically, retarded. It sounds like it was written by a mongoloid child, who had a spasm in his left hand, forcing his fingers to uncontrollably slide back and forth between two notes over and over. It is the best guitar riff written in New York City. Once Vinnie is done partying up the fretboard with it, he knows only one thing: do a fuckin' pick slide. It's the only way he knows to let the listener know that the next part of the song is going to the sickest moshpart he or she has ever heard. This pick slide is a harbinger of truth, and the next three notes played will get anyone with half a braincell in the pit. Is there anything better than moshing while a twelve year old kid is singing "Give me a job, I gotta survive"? Apparently this kid also kept getting called a crook and a scum. NYC in the 1980s, it was a rough place to live. And let's not overlook Shepler, playing more drumrolls than humanly possible underneath a three note riff. He was thinking of Raybeez when he did this, I can feel it. Once the moshparts ends, a dumbed down version of the first riff (the mongoloid one) is now played, just for good measure. Fuck, that rules.

After these demented brainmelters of songs, Madball finally chooses to take it easy on their listeners with "We Should Care". At a mildly slower pace, a simple four note riff is played, until one of the highlights of the E.P. comes up: those two notes accompanied by the words "why...die". I have always wondered if this line was inspired by the band YDI (pronounced "why die") and I will never find out, because I'm definitely not going to ask. This is one of the only songs on the album where I'm not sure if it was written by Agnostic Front/pre-AF bands. It's slightly less insane and doesn't show up on any old demos or setlists. Then again, it features a classic party skin moshpart, and the New York classic "Bleh!". Anecdote: One time I saw Madball, and I'm not sure if they played this song (doubt it), but Freddy ended the song with a good old Bleh, and then went on to explain the origin of this classic word/sound. I felt honored, and I am going to honor this moment by not telling you.

Side A of the record ends with the best title any song has ever been given, namely "Colossal Man". Written by the Psychos, this song is perhaps the most retarded one out of the whole bunch. The song starts with a single chord hit/cymbal crash, followed by the hardest words ever uttered into a picrophone. You know what they are, and I would feel ashamed to have to repeat them in text, on a blog, on the internet. The song starts (after a sick pick slide, ofcourse), and the riff doesn't make any sense. The chorus doesn't either. One time they played this song with Hoya singing, and Stief and I (us being in a band named after the song) went totally nuts, moshed like idiots and confused every wigger in the house. Anyway, once the chorus is sung a second time, the moment of truth has finally arrived. This is the moment where the best guitarplayer in the universe and beyond does the one thing that guitarplayers do to show off their talent: Vinnie Stigma plays a fucking guitar solo. A feat he had not accomplished, or felt necessary, since roughly 1984. This solo, without any doubt, defies not hardcore, not loud music, not even all music ever composed. It defies human nature. It defies consciousness. It defies rules, regulations, rationale. It is beyond any and all comprehension. I don't know if Vinnie accomplished this masterpiece by an outer body experience, a moment of clarity, or smoking a fuckload of dust, but I'm sure if Jesus would have been alive to hear it, he would have moshed.

If you are not yet convinced that this record is in fact the best product ever sold to mankind, you can now flip it over. There is a side B. The first song on this side is my personal favourite. Simply called "Get Out", this song is about getting out. It starts off, oddly enough, with a riff from Agnostic Front's thrashmetal album "Cause For Alarm". It is played once, until Shepler decides he has had enough. Shepler wants to party, and announces this with his signature single hit on the snare. Now, another one of Stigma's patended four note riffs is yanked out of his guitar over a completely stupid drumbeat (sometimes referred to as the "skinhead fast" beat), one that no one had played in New York in years (unless you maybe want to count ABC No Rio as being part of New York). All over this animal of a song, the words "get out" are repeated endlessly, along with some other ones. If that isn't convincing enough, this is all followed up by... you guessed it, a pick slide by Stigma. You know what that means. A three note moshpart is coming up. Only this time, you prick, it is accompanied by Freddy Madball, the singer of Madball, saying the only thing that would have made sense: "Madball". When writing a moshpart for this song, Stigma knew that nothing would ever beat the moshpart from "Discriminate Me", so he figured he would just play that one, but altered, just enough. Well, either that happened, or Stigma had no fucking clue what he was doing, I don't know. Stigma rules. Ofcourse, once the moshing is done with, the fast riff is once again repeated, but before you start to notice similarities to the other songs, Freddy grabs your attention with this: "stay the fuck out". That's right, get out, AND stay out. The fuck out.

The next song is the Agnostic Front classic, "Last Warning". What can I even say about this one? Classic bassline, another shitty hit on a chord, another pick slide, another four note riff, another chorus written by a mongoloid with broken fingers, and the song ends with the stupid riff being played even faster. Is there anything this else songs need?

And what's best to play after an Agnostic Front song? That's right, an Agnostic Front song. Well, Psychos song, fine, but from an Agnostic Front record. This one is called "Fight", and is about fighting. I am pretty sure Freddy picked the songs by awesome one liner content, because you just cannot go wrong with "break their legs, we're gonna break their legs". The word "fight" is said 22 times in this 13 second song. You should probably give up on writing music now.

The final song on this record, is apparently the first Madball song ever written, and perhaps the only Madball song on Madball's first record. It's a party skin anthem called "It's My Life", with lyrics by a kid who just started growing pubes, talking about shaving his head. The verse has four notes, and the chorus has two. When the song is done, Freddy yells "skinhead" (the 15th and final time this word is said on this record), and then they play the song again. Fuck you.

*United Blood, Victim In Pain, Cause For Alarm, Liberty and Justice, One Voice, Live at CBGBs, Last Warning, Ball of Destruction, Droppin' Many Suckers, Set It Off.

SPANDEX YOUTH

2008-08-24T15:49:00.013-04:00

About a decade ago, I was extremely obsessed with the 1980s. This obsession was focused mostly on exclusively listening to and knowing trivia about '80s hardcore, and fanatically watching '80s comedies preferably themed around high schools or police academies. At one time I was doing Push The Limit fanzine and was working on another zine that I named Spandex Youth, which would focus entirely on '80s stuff I was into. I was going to review all kinds of movie scenes, old hardcore and skateboarding photos, 8-bit video games, etc. I made a few pages, but never got around to finishing it. The other day though, I stumbled upon the only tangible evidence of my obsession from that era: the original photos I took for a Spandex Youth ad. I figured I'd pull a few of them out of limbo for you.
Keep in mind that when I took these (1999-2000) most hardcore kids were still either wiggers or singing about suicide in tight black shirts and studded belts. Being 'goofy' was not cool. Hi-top sneakers or 'oldskool' vans had not yet been remade. Ironic hipsters had not yet ruined the style. The 1980s were frowned upon by most in this terrible era, but I was on my own, "Livin' in the '80s"...

TURNBULL ACs

2008-08-22T17:58:00.000-04:00

Nuff Said.

SHIRT STATS

2008-08-20T00:34:00.005-04:00

As I was cleaning and doing laundry the other day, I finally decided to sit down and do something I had been meaning to do for a long, long time: figure out how many shirts I own. While I was at it, I figured I'd go all out and get some serious shirt stats going. So here we go:

Number of t-shirts currently owned: 182
Number of shirts I designed: 56/182
Number of shirts I paid for: 44/182
Number of shirts I actually wear: approx. 40/182
Newest shirt owned: Rush shirt given to me by my boss last week.
Oldest shirt currently owned: Megadeth shirt given to me by my mom when I was 11.

Do I think my shirt collection is impressive? Not at all. Do I think it's ridiculous to own that many shirts I don't wear? Kinda. Do I want to sell any of them? No. Why? Because some of them are too cool, because I still cling to the idea that one day I will fit into some of them again, and finally because most of them, even the shitty ones, have a story behind them that's worth more than your twenty bucks.

Oh wait, I forgot some stats:

Number of Beavis & Butthead shirts currently owned: 5
Number of Beavis & Butthead shirts that currently fit: 0
Number of Beavis & Butthead "school sucks" shirts I wore to high school graduation: 1

SHOOT GUNS, EAT PUSSY

2008-08-18T10:50:00.007-04:00

Hey guys, still not much time to be doing quality posts lately. Working full time, size em up, doing art, playing guitar a lot, and I've also gotten into collecting guns which is starting to take up a big chunk of my free time. What do you think of my collection so far? Once the worst summer of my life is over I can start working on putting my assgroove back in the couch that is life. Both Adult Crash and Omegas will be releasing new stuff, I'm working on some other bands/projects, and I even have a few things I want to write about on here (whoa). I can't wait for this pathetic excuse for a summer to end. See you then.

A7 1983 THE PSYCHOS AGNOSTIC FRONT

2008-08-07T01:13:00.001-04:00

(just in case you missed it)

THE NILS

2008-08-06T01:47:00.006-04:00

I think it was 2002 when I picked up the "Something to Believe In" compilation on one of my trips to Montreal. Once I played it at home I couldn't say I was that excited about it, but there was this weird little song at the end of it called "Scratches and Needles" that I liked, for some reason. I hated melodic punk, but this song was too good. I considered it a guilty pleasure. I had heard of the Nils before, but pretty much dismissed them as 'not hardcore' and 'not Genetic Control'. Fast forward a few years, I'm now living in Montreal, and this guy Yannick does a post about the Nils and puts a link to the discography. He sarcastically says they do have other songs than the Scratches and Needles one, but at first listen, I don't agree. That song and it's hooks and vocals have been in my brain for too long, the rest doesn't hold up. Ofcourse, a few weeks later those other songs are creeping into my brain, as well. Around this time Chico posts a link to a Montreal Mirror article written about the band and the suicide of Alex Soria, their singer/guitarplayer. I started to read it, and while I could usually care less about some guy I don't know offing himself, this story really got to me. I have read it many times since. If you have a minute, I highly recommend it. Ever since then, the Nils have grown to be one of my favorite bands of all time. Songs like "In Betweens" or "I am the Wolf" are just plain incredible, and I like the former so much I have actually come to respect horns as musical instruments, which is quite the step for me (coincidentally, Yannicks band Whiskey Trench cover it on their new record). Alex Soria was an incredible songwriter, a tortured soul type of musician (like any good one, really), who had a soulful voice that managed to capture so much emotion, it just grabs me every time I hear it. I don't think I've been able to play a single Nils song without having to hear the entire album. In fact, a random updating of my muxtape is what brought forth yet another late night Nils session and this very blog entry. It also brought me to a video I never knew existed:

If that song didn't convince you, you might not have a soul. If it did, I'm sorry. You might spend many late nights listening to the Nils.

Trivia for the nerds: Carlos Soria played in Electric Vomit, a seminal 1979 Montreal punk band whose EP came out only last year. Alex and Carlos also both played in a band named Chino after the Nils (but I have yet to hear it). The Nils put out their last record on Rock Hotel/Profile, a notorious scam label you may know if you like the Cro-Mags. That's it. Go listen to the Nils. I can't believe you haven't already.

OUR OLD FRIEND FATHER TIME

2008-07-31T17:17:00.003-04:00

Oh no, I didn't post for a month! Stop whining, it's only the internet. I moved out two months ago, and have been able to keep myself distracted by working 9-6, working a second job a few days a week, doing artwork, band practice, putting on shows, and the usual. In between the gaps I've just been trying to deal with life. Unprocessed thoughts should never find their way onto the internet (except n00dz onto the b9), hence my blog has been suffering. I do have a bunch of ideas in the back of my mind, but until I find time to write them down, here's a recap of my month: worked too much, saw a bunch of bands, was in a bar fight, got called a nazi, saw two female neighbors showering, didn't touch my guitar, went on a road trip, stopped taking pictures, didn't get any sleep, and I'll stop before this reads like a livejournal entry. Stuff you might actually be interested in: Adult Crash is about to record a live radio set consisting of 4 new songs. Omegas recordings are locked up in Jonahs house while he's in the EU all summer. I might update spoilerart.com soon (but probably not). America's Youth now feature Matt "The Husk" LaForge on bass, and are also on hiatus. Bogus Abuse might practice soon. PTL5 is not happening this decade, probably not next either. Wire 'ex lion tamer' is the best song ever. That's all I got, man. Here's a little taste of what the next few posts will focus on:

SNACK SABBATH

2008-06-30T15:58:00.004-04:00

I decided that one blog was just not cutting it for me. I also had been joking about doing a snack blog with my friend Alicia for about a year, and then the other day I realized hey... wait... Snack Sabbath... the ozzy of snacks? Have no fear, friends, this blog may have been a little weak as of late, but I've got plenty of utter nonsense to share with you. In the meantime, find out about Zero chocolate bars

(I'M) STRANDED

2008-06-22T00:10:00.003-04:00

Like a snake calling on the phone
I've got no time to be alone
There is someone coming at me all the time
Yeah babe I think I'll lose my mind

'Cause I'm stranded on my own
Stranded far from home, all right

I'm riding on a midnight train
And everybody looks just the same
A subway light its dirty reflection
I'm lost babe I got no direction

And I'm stranded on my own
Stranded far from home, all right

Stranded - yeah I'm on my own
Stranded - I'm so far from home
Stranded - you gotta leave me alone
'Cause I'm stranded on my own
Stranded far from home

Come on!

Look at me looking at you
There ain't a thing that I can do
You are lost, your mind is stuck in a whirl
Yeah honey such a stupid girl

Now I'm stranded on my own
Stranded far from home, come on

Livin' in a world insane
They cut out some heart and some brain
Been filling it up with dirt
Yeah baby dunno how it hurts

To be stranded on your own
Stranded far from home, all right.

-The Saints, 1976

MANBABIES

2008-05-29T13:28:00.004-04:00

GET MORE AT ManBabies.com!

I love it when really simple ideas work really well. Could this be the next Lolcats? Thanks to Jessica W. for the link.

SCHIELT ENDE VRIEND

2008-05-19T03:20:00.007-04:00

May 18, 1302, 706 years ago today, was an important day in the history of Belgium. As you probably do not know, the history of my country (before it's independence) is complex, and mostly depressing. There's not much pride to be found when studying the story as a young man. In short, it was a tiny chunk of land endlessly tossed back and forth, under a constantly changing rule and oppression. But there is one day that everyone remembers learning about. The one day the people had finally had enough of the oppression, and out of their own will, fought back. In 1302, a resistance rose to the attempted annexation of the country by the King of France.

"After being exiled from their homes by French troops, the citizens of Bruges went back to their own city and murdered every Frenchman they could find there on May 18, 1302, known as the Brugse Metten. At this time, those suspected of being Walloons or Frenchmen who could speak Dutch were asked to say "schielt ende vriend" (shield and friend), an expression regarded as particularly difficult for those who were not native speakers. Those who did not pronounce it correctly were determined to be the enemy and killed."

The King of France reacted to the massacre by sending an army of 8000, including a cavalry of 2500 knights (contemporary military theory valued each knight as equal to roughly ten infantry, making the total worth over 30.000 men) to fight a militia of 9000, mostly civilians. In what is known as The Battle of the Golden Spurs, the French cavalry was defeated by the small civilian army, using primitive weapons such as clubs and spears. No prisoners were taken, and thousands of golden spurs from defeated French knights were kept to commemorate the victory. The battle is of significance in military history as the first recorded occasion on which an army of footsoldiers defeated professional cavalry.

Two years later, however, the French recaptured the land, and another few centuries of oppression followed. So please, share with me just this one, this single glorious moment in the history of my otherwise depressing country.

OMEGAS: EXCESSIVE FORCE IN TORONTO

2008-05-16T12:55:00.031-04:00

On the weekend of April 26-27 the Omegas went to Toronto to record with J "No Pose Dogg" Fury. First things first: you can find a brand new song and a novelty cover on our Myspace for your slam skanking purposes. A full photo report of the weekend is below.

Rolled up in Bryan's car. Brought a Nintendo.

Tony brought the jams.

"Fascinating"... Tony nails his takes after puking in a trash can all day.

Harley watches over my playing.

Gossip Skins

Gettin' close with Mosher: rushed to the show, played, and rushed back to the studio.

Calling it a day, impersonating Matt Warnke.

Crashed a party.

Did a little slam skankin'

Did some dives.

Professional Moshing.

We were a real hit.

Brutal Knights cameo!

"We're bailin' this sausage fest, man"

"But not before I slam a skank in this here garage"

"HAHA!"

"Woooooo"

"Guys, guys. Come on, guys"

Sure, we got room for one more. On the way back to the Mosher Mansion.

"How much further, Mike?" "Oh, I'd say, roughly, about five minutes"

The Power and the Morning Glory

"Get your beat meat!"

Sleep okay, Dan?

"Tony, Tony, Oh-oh, he's the Veggio"

"That's a wrap, guys"

Unfortunately, Tony didn't survive the ride back home. RIP Tony.

THE END.

In case you're wondering "who the fuck is that guy?", the Omegas crew is: Ryan Hogan on vocals, he used to sing in local thrash retards Jaws of Life, who can be heard in this in this not-safe-for-work Brazzers trailer. Prior to his band days, we was a cult actor, most famous for portraying Brotha Trufioli in the classic short film The Trufioli Family. On guitar we have Tony Frenchman, Montreal's true posman. He sings in Get Busy (formerly Get By), invented the Flakestruction concept, and is king of roadtrip one-liners. On bass is I, Spoiler. And on the skins we have Dan Scheme, master nyhc storyteller. He spent time in The Bad Form and The Nihilistics, put out the Breakdown – hangin’ at WRSU 7", runs Mad at the World and has a whole bunch of other cool shit on his list. Our Number One Road Dog is Bryan, known for his gentlemanly conduct on the road, and completely disgusting conduct off the road. Bryan listens to Macho Man Randy Savage's rap album exclusively. Our Foreign Affairs Assistant is Mike the Mosher, known for his moshing. Also featured in this expose are Mosher's lady friend (who calls him Mosher), recording guru J. Fury (real name: G Beat) and The Beav (Urban Blight, Dangerloves, best mosher at Mad Men).

Now that recording is out of the way, we are focusing on putting out a record, playing more shows, getting more sponsorship deals, making a music video better than the Jaws of Life one, having Hogan's brother include us in one of his (NWS) scripts, and slam skanking.

GO PROLES GO

2008-04-21T23:40:00.008-04:00

The streets of downtown Montreal are covered in riots. I can hear police sirens, cars honking, I can hear screaming and yelling. Exuberance is the night. I see police cars in flames, police officers attacked, live on the television in my home.

Usually I would cheer, as these are some of the finer things in life. The people going out and taking a stand. Except tonight, the people are not taking a stand. They are out because five other people used wooden sticks to make a round black disk go into a small net. The people are not protesting. They are not showing their power. They are showing the power they could have, and what they would do with it. Running in a frenzy, whipped up in masses, releasing their confused blur of emotions. All for nothing. Hope lies not in the proles. They are dumb and I am numb. I may never have the honor of jumping on top of a police car, but if I ever do, I know it will be for a reason.

And I can't look down upon some good oldfashioned rioting. I can't look down upon a simple man, a simple sports fan. But hearing this uproar in my street, feeling this excitement, seeing this defiance, I cannot help but wish it was for something. That it was because of something. Something other than a god damned game. I will see you all tomorrow, when all goes back to normal, and nothing was changed.

QUICK UPDATE

2008-04-17T20:20:00.002-04:00

1) I stepped on an oilstain on saturday. Didn't die.

2) Watching sports is retarded.

3) Fuck my blog, read Scotty's instead. Major Lol'age guaranteed and updated many times a day.

PRINCES AND SAINTS

2008-04-15T23:03:00.005-04:00

On Friday April 4th, my friend Louis invited some people to come see his band play at the BlackDot. One of his friends walked south on St-Laurent towards the venue around 7pm. When he reached the corner of Prince Arthur, someone walked up besides him, turned, punched him in the face, and then stabbed him in the neck. It happened so fast that the victim started to punch his assailant, not realising he was fatally wounded until he collapsed. The assailant walked off and was not apprehended.

Anyone from Montreal will attest that the corner of St-Laurent and Prince Arthur is the heart of downtown, and probably the busiest corner on weekend nights. It is well lit and often patrolled by police. How such an act could be committed unnoticed is beyond me. The fact that this incident was not mentioned in the media at all, might be even worse. If you've read this blog before, you know how I feel about the news, and this didn't help alter my stance much. Apparently the fact that the busiest corner in the second largest city in Canada is considered a kill zone by some, isn't news worthy. Sure, you could blame me for being a sensationalist. But something tells me most citizens of Montreal would like to know what goes on in their city besides hockey and separatism.

SPRINGTIME IN MONTREAL

2008-04-11T17:41:00.004-04:00

SEE THE CITY'S RIPPED INSIDES

2008-04-10T14:57:00.015-04:00

(I enjoy taking pictures again)

MUXTAPES AND LURKAGE

2008-04-09T17:13:00.009-04:00

I was told about muxtapes by Misty 'Martin' Cuddly last week and decided to get in on this trend quick. It's a pretty fun idea. I made one at work, so it's mostly chill jams I keep at the office since my boss Pierre doesn't like "heavy metal". Now, usually I would slap someone in the face for claiming they dislike heavy metal, but Pierre is the man. I would however like to slap the dude that invented m4a, because he is the reason this playlist does not have Wire "ex lion tamer" nor Outburst "no choice" on it. But still, it's good. Listen to it and get in a good mood.

Spoiler's Muxtape

I am thinking of making a new mux every week, but I'm not making any promises. Just in case, I put a link to keep checking in this here new Lurkage list on your right. I decided it's kinda cool to go around from blog to blog and see what's up, even though it made me realise everyone has a blog, and most of them suck, and I think less of some of you, and your blog is just your new livejournal, and no one cool had a livejournal, ever. If your blog isn't linked, it either means I think it sucks, or I just haven't read it yet. Which do you think it is?

MEET BORIS

2008-04-08T22:50:00.000-04:00

SPOILER GOES TO HOLLYWOOD

2008-04-07T17:46:00.001-04:00

I am glad to inform you I have started active work on a very large project that has been in the works for a long, long time: I am making my first feature film. Seeing as most of my favorite motion pictures are based upon a novel, I decided the best way to make a name for myself as a filmmaker would be to work with the bestselling novel of all time, the Holy Bible.

Much like any good movie, I am adapting the script to be split into a trilogy. After successful works such as The Godfather, Indiana Jones, and Star Wars (those new ones don't count), I think this project is bound for great things. The Holy Bible trilogy will consist of:

The Holy Bible Part I, The Old Testament
The Holy Bible Part II, The New Testament
The Holy Bible Part III, Haterz Be Damned

I have recently finished all screenplay adaptations for The Old Testament, and am glad to say this installment is nearing production. A team consisting of talented musicians from various angles of the music spectrum is being organized to compose a complete score. I am speaking to, and am very close to confirming: Porcell, Kerry King, Raphael Ravenscroft, Madonna, The Super Disco Chicken Farmhouse Band, and the drummer from Urban Waste. Already confirmed: the original singer of Nickelback and Adam Green. Unfortunately, putting together such a diverse group of musicians has led to some altercations, resulting a few members to withdraw their interests from the project. Randy Savage, Sakevi Yokoyama, Cat Stevens, the dude from Kansas, and Sticky Fingaz, I wish you the best in your future projects.

I have also started casting some of the parts. I am glad to announce that none other than Fergie (Grindhouse, The Fog) has been emailed the script and is possibly interested in the part of Mary Magdalene. Also interested are Steve Guttenberg (star of the Canadian action thriller Airborne) for the role of Moses, and his Police Academy co-star G.W. Bailey for the part of Judas (inside scoop: word on the street is that the Blue Oyster Bar may or may not be worked into The New Testament!) For the part of Adam, I am speaking to Samuel L. Jacksons' dad, Bill Clinton's assistant's brother and Fred "Shockmaster" Ottman. I have faxed Sativa Rose as well as Tatjana Simic about the part of Eve, and I heard John Turturro is interested in both.

Several cameos are also being worked on, including Larry David (as the Wandering Jew), Zed (as himself), The Undertaker (Death), Freddy Prinze Jr. (Chris Farley) and Chuck Berry (Bobby/Satan).

But here is what you really want to know: who is already cast? Ladies and Gentlemen, without further ado, may I introduce to you: Keenen Ivory Wayans (Jacob), Uncle Phil (Joseph), Paul Hogan (Heath Ledger), Morgan Freeman (Samuel L. Jackson), Samuel L. Jackson (Morgan Freeman), Abe Vigado (God), Hoodrack (Carl The Mosher), and Babe Ruth as the guy who shot John Lennon.

Finally, for the two lead roles... drum roll... Rick Ta Life as Jesus H. Christ and Vinnie Stigma as Johnny, Jesus' sidekick! I know, right? With a stellar cast and crew lining up to work on this feature presentation, nothing can go wrong. Putting it all together, I have Director Dan Ducas (aka Triple D) and Producer Phil Spector (aka the Double PS) on deck, camera work by Kevin Mitchell Parris Cro-Mags Mayhew and Doink The Clown, and I have a skinhead eating a baby as stage manager/ props coordinator. I am sure I forgetting some important people, but I just wanted to take a minute and get the word out. I am still looking for sponsors, extras and stunt doubles (Brock Lesnar just tore a ligament). Give me some feedback, I can't wait to start shooting!

LIGHTNING SUPERSTITION

2008-04-05T03:23:00.000-04:00

As a young child, I would walk to school with my older brother. We lived a few houses down from the school, which was the best thing ever because I could sleep in, I could go home for lunch and always play with my legos until the very last minute. I actually think the proximity of that school to our house is the reason I cannot wake up on time no matter how hard I try, that I can never leave for the bus 5 minutes early, and that I have to struggle to be on time for anything.

Anyway, I couldn't have been a day older than five when my brother and I walked to school and passed one of those big oil stains in the street. You know, the ones with the psychedelic colors. As I was walking towards it, my brother yelled "watch out!". I froze. "Don't you know what those are?" he said. "They're where the lightning hit".

He knew that I was terrified of lightning. My dad loved to tell a story of a co-workers' daughter who got struck by lightning in an open field. The story travelled around our neighbourhood so much that to a young boy, it seemed like it could happen to anyone. Even at that age I knew where that co-worker lived. Everyone knew that the white house belonged to the family whose daughter got killed by lightning.

Feeding on my fear, my brother, probably around nine years old, made up this whole theory about how lightning would strike into the street, and the heat of the electric blast would leave those oddly colored stains. Here's the best part, though. He said that the stains would stay charged with electricity for days, and if you stepped on one, you would die.

I remember being really terrified, but oddly intruiged. How could something that looked so nice be deadly? Before he had told me, I actually thought they were remnants of a rainbow. But he was my older brother, so he knew better. From that day forth, walking to school was like walking through a minefield. I guess there was a lot of leaky engines in our neighbourhood. I would walk around them, stare at them, and I was impressed with their power.

I can't remember when I found out that those things were just oil stains from shitty car engines. But the funny thing is, when you truly believed that something could kill you, it's really hard to shake the idea. The thought is instilled into the back of your memory for a long, long time. You might not believe me, but I have never stepped onto an oil stain in the street. Ever. I know it won't kill me, but I won't step on it. It's not a refusal, it's an unconscious thing. I will see one every now and then, and they always remind me of my brother, and the neighbourhood I grew up in. And the old man across from the street who would come out to yell at you if you went near his lawn. And the house around the corner where the guy exploded a grenade into his hand and blew it off. And the bushes where the crazy girl let us watch her pee. And by the time my mind wanders back into the now, I realise I already passed the oil stain. I walked right around it.

2... 3... NOTHING

2008-03-08T14:13:00.001-05:00

This day crept up on me like the snowstorm that occurs on the other side of my window today. On the other side of the window, my friends are about to climb the stage together for one last time. On the other side of the Atlantic, people are travelling today, people are excited, people are worried, people are going to see the last Justice show.

I'm not there. I'm behind the window, on my own in a silent room, trying to look in from thousands of miles away. Trying to feel there, trying to be there, trying to find my place.

I'm not there. I was going to be. Sometimes life has other plans. I left Belgium. I left Justice. I had to go. And I didn't make it back in time. I'm not there, but I will be one day. I won't be there for a show, or a venue, or a band. I will be there for you, my friends.

Justice was the first thing in my life that made sense. It was the first thing that I put together, that I was part of, that I showed to the world. It was the first thing I was proud of. It was the first thing that worked. Because we made it work. It's been more than two years now since I left. It's been a rocky road. I had to start over. I took what I learned and tried to do it again.

Ever since I left, I haven't sat still. Sometimes I think I was trying to fill the void that Justice left in my system. So much to do, so little time. Everything I do now probably doesn't remind anyone of Justice. But in my mind, it's all connected. Everything I know now, I learned back then. Everything started back then. And as Justice dies today, no part of me dies with it. Instead parts of it will go on with me, always.

Reminiscin'... can I cope? YES!

Me, Dunk, Flip at the Justice Mansion, 2003. Me and my mom would housesit a mansion in the summer, so Justice would practice there in one of the little girls' rooms. We wrote most of the demo in there. Photo by Hinkey or Stief.

Dunk, Me, Stief, Flip at the Justice Mansion, 2003. We had prepared all these posters for our first show with magic markers. We then drove to Funtime fest to see Dead Stop, put a poster that said "I piss on Funtime" on the front door, walked in without paying and started moshing to Dead Stop before we even greeted anyone. Lino once said that was when Belgium hardcore started. Photo by Hinkey.

Dunk, Stief, Me, Flip at the Frontline, 2003. This is the first Justice photo ever taken, that I know of. This is our second show. No one gave a shit. Photo by Friday.

Justice near Dendermonde, 2003. The Deal had just played their final show, which was the first time a packed venue of people went nuts for a local band. Having just put out our demo, we caught that wave of energy at this show. The guy moshing in the left bottom corner is Erik Tilburg, who joined the band shortly after. PS: note my Adult Crash shirt. Photo by Sheep.

Justice in London, 2004. Our first tour in England, with Downslide. This show got cancelled, so Jamie got some girl to let us play her house in a bad part of town. We were supposed to play in her basement, but I couldn't stand up straight in it, so we moved the entire bedroom into the basement ourselves, and played in her room. This was the first cool Justice picture taken, so we were all really stoked. Can't remember who took it.

Erik, Stief, Me, Flip in Tilburg, 2004. Outtake of the first EP photoshoot. Photo by Friday or Bianka.

Me, Erik, Flip, Stief, Billy in Montreal, 2004. Our first time out of Europe. Alot of people say Justice was important as we were the first European hardcore band to be fully accepted into the American scene. I guess that's true (Americans weren't into True Blue until after they broke up), but alot of it was by a fluke. Dan said we should fly in, we talked to Mental (who we didn't know) and a few weeks later we were touring North America. We just had the balls to do it. Photo by Dan.

Justice at Ninjafest, London, 2005. Looking at these now, I never realised we played in front of crowds that big. We were just having fun, playing some songs, hanging out. Photo by Tok.

Me, Stief, Erik, Flip in front of Erik's building, 2004. I always said I would keep this a secret until we broke up, so I guess I can let the cat out of the bag now. This is the photo that was on the back of our EP. It was taken as a joke before the real shoot. I remember very specifically saying "we shouldn't take any photos here, it's gonna turn out to be the best one". Ofcourse, I was right. It was the best one, but it didn't have a cool background like all the real photos we took. So I photoshopped a brick wall behind it like a poser and never told anyone until now. Photo by Friday.

A BOY AND HIS BONER

2008-03-06T22:17:00.001-05:00

Yea I know, another blog update! It just so happens to be a glorious day today. See, I have a friend named Boner Hogan. I can't even remember how I met him, but we ended up jamming together for months, just doing some covers while I learned to play guitar. Our bassplayer Erin and me nicknamed him Boner one day, and no one can remember why. But it turns out we were true prophets when we did so. After working with some sketchy lebanese guys, and at a relay service where every harcore kid except myself has worked at, Boner came up to me one day and told me he got a new job. He then said the coolest thing anyone has ever said to me: "I write porn scripts".

I mean, seriously. I didn't even know pornos had scripts. I never stopped to think that somewhere, there are dudes that get paid to think them up. And if you told me they did, I would picture a tanned gino on a hollywood set somewhere, not this guy:

Every time I see Boner now, he tells me about life as a porn writer. Well, I endlessly assault him with questions about it, really. I almost tried getting a job with him, which would have been the only real way to go after telemarketing and video game testing, but I actually got hired doing graphic design. Today was my first day, but that is not what matters.

Today is the day that Boners' first script is online! Today is the day that I realised that I know a guy who goes to an office, writes down what he thinks a pornstar should do, and then the pornstar does it. And he gets paid for it. You can view the trailer here: Big Butt Massage

Next time you think you're cool, forget about it. Boner wins. Game over.

PS: Here is a photograph of Boner and myself playing together. One day I will show this to my grandchildren, who will be in total disbelief that I ever knew the man, the lengend, that Boner Hogan is destined to become.

COCK DOGS AND SEX MACHINES

2008-03-05T00:49:00.000-05:00

For those who don't know who Knightbus is, he is a member of the BlackDot Staff. He goes by nicknames such as Ratback and Minute Man for reasons I won't get into now. But I will tell you about his newest nickname: Cockdog.

See, Cockdog is the kind of guy that for some reason always ends up getting involved in stupid dares, idiotic challenges, and other plain dumb shit. I have seen him getting whipped with leather belts and extension wires, shirtless. I have seen him voluntarily taking kicks to the testicles in front of an audience. I have seen him strip down to his boxers and stagedive to Limp Wrist. I have seen him get hit over the head with a piece of drywall, chug jelly, and do listerine bongs. The list is endless. And none of these ideas were his. These are all things that Dan, myself or others came up with. We don't know why he does these things we tell him to do. But the other day while talking to Ollie, we came up with an idea that Knightbus would surely refuse. We were to let Dan tattoo him live on the radioshow run by Jackie, another BlackDot staffer. Dan, not a tattoo artist whatsoever, would get to pick the design, and Knightbus would not know what it was until the tattoo was finished.

We all went to the radio station today and well... I am not going to bother writing up the rest of the story. Just look.

I must admit, I don't know anyone who has enough balls to do this. Everyone in their right mind would refuse. Not Cockdog. He manned up and got a shitty tattoo of a hairy cock that says I heart mom and ridicules his sex life, all in one. Even GG Allin would cringe at it. My hat goes off to you, Dog.

Unfortunately I must end this post on a sad note. The night wasn't all fun. On the way back home, we passed by my favourite corner in the world, St-Catherines and St-Laurent. The four corners of sin. And I'm just going to come out and say it: the Sex Machine is gone. That entire strip of buildings is gone. I couldn't believe it. After losing the best Burger King a few months back, we now will never again stand on the corner looking at the silhouette of the dancing naked lady and wonder if she's real. We will never again bring touring bands up those smelly stairs to get them the sketchiest of sketch. She's gone, friends. Those who know, know, and those who don't... it's too late now.

UPDATE: cockdog radio session now on Youtube!

MY DAD IS A METALHEAD

2008-03-02T05:13:00.000-05:00

People that know me well enough, have heard a story or two about the character that is my dad. I originally posted this in a dad thread on the Loc board, but since you probably missed that, here you go.

Let's start with my dads' appearance. He is a large, built man with a huge gut, a big black beard, and a long black greasy ponytail halfway down his back. He is missing two front teeth. He only wears flannels, ripped jeans, and boots. When his jeans rip too much he glues them back together with industrial glue. He actually looks alot like Earthquake, but dressed like a hick biker.

The funny thing is that my dad was once a total nerd. As a young man he wore thick rimmed glasses, studied Latin, and excelled at math. Then the '70s rolled around and his mind was corrupted by hard rock music, and probably pot. He grew out his hair and beard and soon was known to his highschool peers as "Jesus". He grew rebellious, got into Sabbath, became a total slacker after graduating, and eventually got a job as a city worker (the ultimate slacker job). Though he was a smart man, he hung out with highschool dropouts and other hard rockers from work.

Fast forward to the '80s. He married a hippie chick and had two sons. He had upgraded himself to driving city garbage trucks. He had two interests: heavy metal and engines. His best friends were dudes from work who were even trashier looking than him. All of them had beards, long hair, and dressed in army attire. They all went to metal concerts together. One of them was known for getting so wasted, that the only way to remember what he had to eat the day before was by burping, and then smelling it (I witnessed this a few times). Another of his classic stories is of when he drunkely kicked down a bathroom door and picked a guy right off the toilet with his pants down, because he had to take a leak. Anyway, when these guys visited, many a camo painted pick-up truck would be parked on our lawn, with the rebel flag in the back windows. My dad however drove a Mini Cooper, which was his passion. His other group of friends were nerdier types of metalheads who were into Mini Coopers and lived with their moms. They would come over with stacks of "Mini Club" magazines and watch "The Italian Job" (the original) endlessly.

My dad had a huge collection of records and tapes. As a result, when asked what my fave band was in school when I was 5, my answer was "Iron Maiden". Speaking of school, you know when your parents come to school meetings? Yea. Lots of fun for me. One kid made a comment about my dad once and I stabbed him with a pen until he bled.

From when I was 7 to when I was 10, he used to take the family out to a hard rock bar called "The Witch" where bikers hung out. My brother and I would sit at the bar and request songs, or we would draw on their blackboard (the early roots of spoiler art). The owner sang in a band called Ambush who I saw live at the Witch when I was around 7. I still have their "suck you into heavy metal" demo. My mom made me a jeans jacket with a Whitesnake backpatch to wear to the bar. My whole family had jean jackets and long hair. When I was a kid everyone had buzzcuts, and I had a beatle-bowl. Unfortunately The Witch was burned down, most likely by rival bike gangs.

Most of my dad's free time was spent working on Mini Coopers with his buddies. He always bought them for dirt cheap (around $100) to fix them up and sell them. He drove the really shitty ones himself. He always left the keys in his car because they were too fucked up to steal. Many times when he went to drop me off somewhere he'd say stuff like "we gotta take a longer route because this one doesn't turn to the left too good". Most of them he fixed so they ran on some kind of illegal cheap gasoline. He never had insurance on them either since that cost more than the actual car. He got in a few mild car crashes but always fled the scene. His cars were always parked on the front lawn because our garage (and the shabby wood shack behind it) was stuffed with engine parts.

One time someone actually tried to break into his garage. Luckily my dad was still up watching soft porn and went out and hit the guy with a huge wrench. He somehow escaped but my dads' precious car parts were unharmed.

Whenever my friends came over, he would sit next to them, then slap them really hard on the leg and say "HOW ARE YAAAARGHH!". He would always fart and burp extra loud when I had company. When we played Mortal Kombat, when you turned it on the screen said something that looked a little bit like it spelled "sepultura" (not really though) so every single time we played he'd say "WHAT? SEPULTURA?!". If my friends stayed over for dinner, him or my brother would turn to them, burp in their face and then blow the stench in their face while they ate. I still like to do that one myself from time to time. I guess some things run in the family no matter what.

After many years of driving a garbage truck he was given a desk job at the city workers office. When I say deskjob I mean sitting at a table in a small room surrounded by passing bulldozers. Somehow he became interested in politics around this time. He worked for some guy who eventually became the mayor. He was then offered a fancy office job working for the mayor, but he did request that my dad wore 'appropriate clothing' and maybe shortened his hair a bit. They didn't mean wear a suit, they basically meant wear jeans without holes. My dad agreed. The next day he went to the office wearing a metal t-shirt with spaghetti sauce stains, ripped jeans, and dirty boots. He was fired.

I was in my teens and slowly started to understand my dad. He liked to 'stick it to the man'. He wanted to be young and careless. I also started to notice we were dirt poor and he was getting fired over not getting to wear King Diamond shirts to work. His being a metalhead/ rebel/ scumbag didn't go too well with good parenting, and I started to get pissed at him alot, being an angry teenager and all. My brother had followed in his footsteps as a metalhead and car fanatic. I was a metalhead but I hated cars, so eventually I got into hardcore, straight edge, cut off my long hair and bummed out my dad and brother thoroughly. My parents got divorced when I was 18, and I haven't seen him since. When I think about him now, I think that he might have been my hero if he hadn't been my dad.

IN OTHER NEWS

2008-02-14T01:47:00.000-05:00

A few days after my "Oblivion" post I realised that besides being oblivious, I often have the memory of an aging pothead. I totally knew about that writer's strike. I knew because of Conan O' Briens' beard. I guess it faded from my memory as quickly as it entered. Perhaps because I don't care, or because at the time I had other things to worry about (i.e. how underrated the first Boys LP is), or because my interests shift back and forth from time to time. But I do that stuff all the time, and it weirds me out.

Anyways, I've been home sick for two days, and with murphy's law by my side, my free satellite went out on the same day I woke up sick. This resulted in me watching CBC all day long. I followed American Idol, watched Scrubs, and I even watched the local news with Friday. A few minutes in, I noticed the announcer stating that someone 'punched a teacher in the face'. Isn't an announcer supposed to say something like 'a teacher was assaulted'? I'm telling you, the news is slowly morphing into a bad action movie. Which is good. So apparently some dude punched a montreal gym teacher in the face for giving his kid a bad grade. 'What's he teaching his kid like that?' Friday said. 'To be more awesome' I replied. Apparently the coach suffered a broken nose and a concussion. Solid punch, man.

Anyway, I've been documenting my sick days, a photo essay will be posted soon. Until then, to make up for this bland post here is something I did the other day while extremely tired. As you may know, exhaustion is the edgemans' alcohol, so this is basically me drawing drunk. I usually draw in pencil and trace the best shapes in pen. For this one I did the whole thing in pen so that I couldn't erase anything. I was truly... Not Afraid.

SEXDEATH

2008-02-10T16:11:00.000-05:00

It's been over two years since I graduated art school. By the time I was done with it, I had grown sick of the high brow art snob scene, and turned away from anything but my 'dumb drawings'. I haven't been to a museum or gallery since. I never went alot during my studies, either. Mostly, art school was a good way for me to live off government money, be able to go on tours, while still pretending I was getting an education. Not that art school was an easy ride. While there weren't as many books and papers, it was basically five years of making art that I believed in, then having it criticized by my professors. Constantly having to defend your work, constantly being asked questions about things that are personal to you, is not an easy thing. Especially if half of the people trying to get into your psyche are complete lunatics themselves. But in the end, I learned alot that way. Unconsciously, I don't do anything anymore without being able to back it up. I usually don't explain anything I do, but if you ask questions, I will have answers. Half the time I don't even think about what something means until I am done, or if I'm asked about it. But it all has meaning. Often it has multiple meanings. That goes for anything I do, be it paintings, a drawing of a moshing skinhead, lyrics, or the photos above and below. Ofcourse, you could take the most meaningless thing and give it meaning, if you're a good bullshitter. That's another thing I picked up in art school.

I don't know why I took these photos. After my two year withdrawal, I started to get interested in (non-illustration) art again. Started taking some pictures, started wishing I still had a videocamera. Alot of my work in school was borderline obscene. And my work usually sprung from the fact that I was lazy. While alot of students would plan trips to find a perfect setting for their photography, I rarely left my block. It was an approach that I stubbornly argued to my professors, until they agreed that I would be lying if I were to pretend I wasn't lazy.

For these images, I didn't even leave my desk. If you can't tell, I took these right off my computer screen, and left them unaltered. They were an idea, an instinct. I made them, gave it two seconds of thought, and gave it a name. That was it. I like them. I actually came up with the name sexdeath in art school. It represents the fact that everything we do in life can be traced back to sex and death. Besides that, it also sounds like something a horny teenage metalhead came up with, so that's a bonus.

I'm sure if you're only familiar with my illustrations, you might ask 'you call this art?'. Why yes, I do.

OBLIVION

2008-02-05T19:29:00.000-05:00

Yesterday while waiting for the bus, Brendan (Omegas roadie) and Troy (Douchebag) were talking about tv shows, mainly Flight of the Conchords (pretty good). In the process they mentioned the writer's strike, and I said "what's this about a strike?". They looked at me like I just murdered a baby. "Have you never heard of the writer's strike in Hollywood?". Nope. So apparently this has been going on for months. No scripts have been written since. I had no idea. Troy explained it to me, while being amused at how oblivious I am to current events. Well, for a guy who's got 'out of step' (with the world) tattooed on his head, he should understand the way I live.

When I got home from practice, Friday asked me who I thought was going to win the elections. Now, I knew that this referred to the american presidency, because I knew it was about time Bush got booted. Then Friday told me apparently the next president is going to either be a woman or a black man. And seriously, as I am typing this, I am still wondering if she was pulling a fast one on me. Even I am shocked at just how oblivious I am. I had never heard of such a thing. Last time I checked, a female or black president was something only mentioned in a sentence that ends with 'will never happen'. Seriously, what happened while I was busy analyzing Vinnie Stigma's guitarplaying (more on that later)? Did the world suddenly become awesome? Well, I don't know anything about either candidate's agenda, but I am stoked. It's kind of sad that the entire world is following another nations' presidency so closely, mostly because they want to know who is going to bomb their children next. Well, no matter who wins, it will finally blow a hole in the thought that only white males are idiots. But then again, if you're going to follow up Bush you could get caught smoking crack off a dead hooker's tits and still look respectable.

The point of my post, I guess, is to say that I really do not follow the news, or current events, or anything that does not immediately affect me. Sure that is ignorant, but so is the Breakdown demo. Sometimes ignorance is genius.

My thing with the news is, too many times have I read a story or seen a report on something I was involved in, and every time it was nothing but beefed up nonsense and lies. Sure, there's a difference between sensational newspapers and real journalism. But then I remember flipping channels between CNN and unbiased european newschannels during 9/11. Pretty mindboggling. It's all the same to me. I don't trust it. I just finished re-reading 1984, so I might be a little paranoid, but the 6 'o clock news smells like propaganda and mind control to me. It always has. What are they saying, what are they not saying? And how will I ever know the difference? I'd rather not follow, and if it is important enough, it will get to me eventually. Sure that's a theory with a lot of gaps, but that's how theories work, isn't it? I don't tend to live my life based on hardcore lyrics, but Antidote said it pretty well: "Don't you listen to the news, by the time it gets to you, who knows where it might have been (MOSH PART)".

BIG BRAINS, BAD BOOBS

2008-01-27T03:23:00.000-05:00

Well, I haven't had any time to do proper updates, but I figured I'd share this with you until I do:

http://emuse.ebaumsworld.com/video/watch/16671

This video is pretty solid on it's own, but if you fast forward to 4:14 you can hear the Bad Brains' "Don't Need It" (Black Dots version) as an asian boob jingle. Don't ask me how I find these things. Shoutout to Boner Hogan!

WIKIPEDIA SPEAKS

2008-01-12T15:07:00.000-05:00

1) "What's great about this country is that America started the tradition where the richest consumers buy essentially the same things as the poorest. You can be watching TV and see Coca Cola, and you know that the President drinks Coca Cola, Liz Taylor drinks Coca Cola, and just think, you can drink Coca Cola, too. A coke is a coke and no amount of money can get you a better coke than the one the bum on the corner is drinking. All the cokes are the same and all the cokes are good. Liz Taylor knows it, the President knows it, the bum knows it, and you know it." -Andy Warhol

2) "In 1990, [Chuck] Berry was sued by several women who claimed that he had installed a video camera in the ladies' bathrooms at two of his St. Louis restaurants. A class action settlement was eventually reached with 59 women on the complaint."

3) "When "That's All Right" was played, many listeners were sure Presley must be black, and most white disc-jockeys wouldn't play his Sun singles. However, black disc-jockeys didn't want anything to do with a record made by a white man. To some, Presley had undoubtedly "stolen" or at least "derived" his style from the Negro rhythm-and-blues performers of the late 1940s. Some black entertainers, notably Jackie Wilson, countered, "A lot of people have accused Elvis of stealing the black man’s music, when in fact, almost every black solo entertainer copied his stage mannerisms from Elvis."

4) "...other early rock and roll scandals such as Jerry Lee Lewis's marriage to his 13-year-old cousin..."

5) "Vinnie Stigma (born Vincent Cappuchino)"

6) "On November 14th, 2007 [Jeff Koons'] art piece "Hanging Heart" sold at Sotheby's auction house for $23.6 million becoming the most expensive piece by a living artist ever auctioned." (I like this guy even more now)

7.1) "Belgian historian Jo Gerard recounts that potatoes were already fried in 1680 in the Spanish Netherlands, in the area of the Meuse valley between Dinant and Liège, Belgium. The poor inhabitants of this region allegedly had the custom of accompanying their meals with small fried fish, but when the river was frozen and they were unable to fish, they cut potatoes lengthwise and fried them in oil to accompany their meals."

7.2) "Many Americans attribute the dish to France — although in France they are often thought of as Belgian — and offer as evidence a notation by U.S. President Thomas Jefferson. "Potatoes deep-fried while raw, in small cuttings" are noted in a manuscript in Thomas Jefferson's hand (circa 1801-1809) and the recipe almost certainly comes from his French chef, Honoré Julien. It is worth noting, though, that France had recently annexed what is now Belgium, and would retain control over it until the Congress of Vienna of 1815 brought it under Dutch control."

8) "On January 9, 2001, Richard [Lewis] visited the Howard Stern Show to promote his book The Other Great Depression, which described his recovery from alcoholism, and was told that he "was not an alcoholic". He was then subjected to several stories from the staff and phone callers that made his alcohol intake and "horror stories" seem insignificant."

SPOILER SPEAKS ABOUT THE INTERNET ON THE INTERNET

2008-01-06T02:59:00.000-05:00

I'm working on some cool shit for this blog, but until the time is ready here is some aimless jabbering.

Looking back, I think 2007 was mostly eventful on the internet. We had Youtube, YSI, and public Facebook all new in 2007. Makes a man wonder what people did on the nerd before. On the other hand, Oink (RIP) saw it's demise last year, and Myspace was also effectively ruined (if you guys are reading this, I still want to work for you). We've had Wikipedia since 2001, but I can't remember it being too useful until about 2-3 years ago.

I can't imagine what life would be like without free music, wikipedia, facebook, and late night youtube sessions. Considering I had never even owned a computer up until two years ago, technology has been advancing especially fast for me. It has seriously affected my life and my modes of thinking. For instance, I used to be a little hopped up on knowing all kinds of stupid shit, and surrounding myself with other nerds who knew about this stupid shit. I liked to listen to the Altercation demo (you had to beg to get a bad quality dub off a nerd friend) as I looked up press info on the Left LP (obscure punk) in my Flex book (hard to get a hold of), while my VHS of the Married With Children episode with Antrax (classic) was playing in the background. I thought I was a pretty cool guy. Now, ofcourse, any jackass can find all of the above in three minutes, so any and all concepts of cool went straight out the window.

It changed a number of things in my life. For one, I could stop acting like such an obsessive dweeb. Though I still like to nerd out and reference the Iron Youth demo from time to time, I have calmed down and started listening to some of the music I was neglecting that whole time (Dinosaur Jr is good). Also, I started taking people for what they were, instead of judging them on wether or not they'd seen the YOT video in Aalst where Porcell feet firsts onto a guy for throwing a beer at him.

And finally, sure I could complain about the widespread availability of, well, everything, and nothing having any value anymore. Personally, I like to think that just because it's out there, not everyone will look. Some people just don't obsess about getting their hands on the Breakdown WNYU sets that much. The ones that do, can get it alot easier, have it mean a little less to them, but take it in just the same. The difference is while I spent a good chunk of my youth obsessing over shit from the past and then trying to recreate it, to finally realise I should be creating something of my own, well these kids can get the obsession part out of the way quicker and make something new out of these widely available things. And because they're taking in alot more, in a much wider variety, I'd like to think they might actually come up with some new, fresh shit. Hopefully I haven't gotten to the point where I hate it because it doesn't sound like the Altercation demo.

ADD THIS TO THE LIST

2008-01-02T21:43:00.000-05:00

...OF THINGS I SHOULDN'T HAVE MISSED.

BEST OF 2007

2008-01-01T17:15:00.001-05:00

I reserve the right to edit this list endlessly.

Records:

Texans worshipping Germans? Who would have thought. Some serious riffage, well thought out songs and good lyrics. Solid.

When Vice says it sucks, you know it's good. The title track is a rager. You and I both know it.

Records haven't had this much balls in years.

Hardest record of the year. Also runner-up for the balls award.

Coolest drummer in current music. Yea so it's not as good as the s/t but it's still ten times better than most records that came out.

The moshpart in "Oh How We Laughed" is harder than anything you will ever write.

I got this when it dropped just to up my ratio, but it's actually pretty good.

It's no ROIR sessions, I know. Still, no other man could write riffs like these for the life of him.

Honorables: I have yet to hear these albums but I know they're good: Witchcraft - The Alchemist, Dinosaur Jr - Beyond, War Hungry - new ep (my recordplayer broke).

Demos:
The Reactionaries
Union Town
Barn Burner
Mad Men

Movies:

Possibly more one-liners than the Big Lebowski.

The scene where Ian walks down the street to the beat of No Love Lost, and the guitar chord comes in as you see HATE sprawled across his back.

If you didn't like it, you didn't deserve it.

Masterpiece. I happen to like movies that are all dialogue and no action.

Feel-good movie of the year.

The bathouse murder scene was unsettling even to someone who laughs at most movie violence.

No music in the entire movie. Something I have always wanted to do. I guess I can let go of that dream.

A little hard to watch, but some incredible scenes nonetheless.

Honorables: This Is England, 300, Alpha Dog, Walk Hard.

Books:

Read the entire thing in two days even though I knew all the stories by heart.

Shows:
Black Dot Benefit
Break North (Final Word!)
Barn Burner at Dan's BDay party.
Madball at Foufs.
Career Suicide at Pop Montreal, A Varning, and at Katacombes.

Roadtrips:
Baker Street weekend
Morrissey weekend
JJ's book reading/ Red Bamboo trip

WELCOME TO VENICE

2007-12-04T23:27:00.000-05:00

I believe this is my 5th attempt at a blog. Over the last two years, I have tried doing blogs with different themes and 'angles', but it didn't work out. Fuck it. This blog is going to be about everything and nothing. It will be the Seinfeld of blogs, if you will. It will be filled with nonsense, inside jokes, opinions, updates on my thousands of projects, photos, and whatever else I feel like. It will not, I repeat NOT have any photos of any new jeans or designer socks that I think you should check out.

Here is a list of reasons why this blog will not be updated daily:

-OMEGAS recording in January.
-ADULT CRASH demo out soon/ writing new songs.
-BLACK DOT stage of quarrel built, floors not yet stained due to weather.
-SIZEEMUP always on top (even when bands don't have their shit together).
-AMERICA'S YOUTH on songwriting hiatus.
-SPEAK OUT filling in on bass.
-NAMELESS GARAGE PUNK BAND in which I'm the only non-chainsmoker.
-SPOILERART.COM has never been updated, but I still do art almost daily.
-might start another band with Dan, third time is the charm?
-BLACK DOTS are now called the STIGMAS and will start practicing again in 2008.
-finally got a job, more video game testing, sweet.
-I'm not as lazy as people say I am (see above) but still kind of lazy.