Part 1 in my 5,000 part series, “The Dangers of Rock and Roll.” I have six hours of footage from this thing. Here’s the first part, which displays all the dangers of Rock music.

A taste of what you’re in for.

My friend Joe—better known to readers of this site as the Teen Turtle Pregnancy guy—has just released his new EP, totally for free, over at his website where you can download it and stream it for free!

The EP is pretty amazing (I mean, Christ, just check out that cover art, for one. And it’s getting great reviews), and the lead-off song is kind of a cross between NOFX and a cute Japanese girl kicking you in the face. I’ve been meaning to make a music video for Joe for sometime, and I came across some footage that seemed appropriate for this and this only.

Vlantis—KURO GOMA ICE from World of Wardcrap on Vimeo.

I was checking out a friend’s Facebook page this morning, and I realized I’d never seen his video blog. Or “Vlog,” if you prefer. Or “Internet Video Program.”

Then I realized, “screw it: It’s 4:46 AM, and I can’t sleep on account of the Pit-of-Hell-Itching All Over My Body. I’m watching these.” And not a moment too soon, as I was about to be DEPRESSED BEYOND THE CAPACITY FOR HUMAN THOUGHT when I read a press release sent to me about the new Michael Jackson MMORPG coming out.

Shown: The Casual Raping of a Dead Man’s Corpse. Level Up, America!

To wit:

Entire continents will be created that will celebrate Michael’s unique genius in a way that underscores his place as the greatest artist of all time.  Michael’s longtime fans will feel at home as they find themselves in places that seem familiar and yet unknown at the same time, and new generations will discover and experience Michael’s life in a way never before imagined.  At its core, Planet Michael is a massive social gaming experience that will allow everyone, from the hardcore fan to the novice, to connect and engage in collaborative in-game activities with people worldwide.

You may be asking yourself, “Chris, what the fuck could this possibly mean? How could Michael Jackson’s legacy sprout entire continents? I don’t know. I just don’t. I can’t even process it. SO back to the thing I want to show you. Richard Fairgray’s Vlog. After I got done crying from laughing at these, I thought these would be a great counter-balance to yesterday’s blog, in which my friend Missy described me as looking like “a rapist who doesn’t know any better,” and my friend Hoffmaster 3000 described as “Holy Mountain Part 2.”

Not to mention my whole screed about Lady Gaga, which I felt bad about after I saw her ranting against Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell…the fate of which will be decided today. And, if someone in the Senate changes their mind, I’ll have Gaga, in part, to thank. I mean, Bad Romance is still a crap candle, burning bright (IMAO). But at least she’s using that fame to do something worthwhile, instead of just wearing USDA Select Choice Cuts to made-up awards shows. But if anything is going to help wash the reality of a Michael Jackson MMORPG out of my mind forever, it’s these videos. I’m making my own reality now. I can’t deal with the real thing anymore.

*On a totally separate, semantics-based note. Do you remember when you first heard the word “Blog”? Wasn’t it fucking annoying? Didn’t it feel like an infection you wanted to fight off with medication? Or the word “Twitter”? Or Tweets? Or Vlog? And while they’re still grating to an extent, I don’t really think about it much anymore. I use them casually, and without thinking. I don’t even say “InterWebs” ironically, like all these fucking hipsters. I wonder what crazy, annoying language we’ll be using every single day of our lives in 5 to 10 years? Will an upstart called Text Rooster.com make Google the MySpace of search engines?  Will we be Flooglecasting? We’ll probably be Flooglecasting.

I’m no stranger to gospel music, techno mash-ups or inappropriate religious iconography…so perhaps that’s why this perfect storm of videos (brought to my attention by Bryan Sandlegs Morrelli) is something I will never, ever, ever stop enjoying. Just try not to Get The Ghost when you watch these. Like, every time I see them I want to go out of my mind. I want to fly a cross shaped jet at supersonic speed. I want to cut someone’s head off with communion wafer ninja stars. I want blood to spray out of a Virgin Mary statue’s eyes like a fire hose and knock everyone over in the first 3 rows. I want to LIVE, dammit! LIVE!!!!

Shown: The one they call The Executioner.

You know, it says Jesus did an awful lot of healing “the lame” in the bible. And I don’t mean Lady Gaga fans, I’m talking about the handicapable. But that fact doesn’t seem to bother these gospel singers who are maimed, mauled and scarred beyond belief but still sing his praises.

Now, lest you think I’m cruel, we have a family friend who is a blind pastor. But here’s the thing: he was born with one eye, and the other was poked out in a basketball game by an ornery 10-year old when he was in junior high. How’s that for rotten luck? You think I’d be kneeling at the old rugged cross if I was dealt that hand? Much less cutting gospel records?!? I’d be drinking alone in the dark and cursing to myself, mixing a Downward Spiral follow-up on my Fisher Price tape player.

That’s my best guess, as I’ve never known real adversity and would be a total puss in the face of any physical challenge that doesn’t involve me retrieving a bright orange flag from a vat of baked beans.

So, I guess I can’t tell if these albums are inspirational, exploitative or  terrifying…and I don’t know if it makes me a prick for posting them….but they are kind of awesome. Enjoy the misery.

Yes, it truly is a miracle to tickle the ivories when you have nothing to tickle them with. There’s a guy in my hometown, a lawyer, who comes into a diner every single day and eats breakfast with no hands. He uses utensils like a pro. That’s impressive. I’ve seen a guy with no arms and no legs roll and light a cigarette. Amazing. So equating this woman’s hard earned adaptation to a “miracle” is a bit of a stretch, and actually kind of condescending to her when you think about it—as if she had nothing to do with the work that went into learning the organ with no freaking hands. Like, if it were really a miracle, wouldn’t Jesus give her new digits? Otherwise that’s just a half-assed miracle, and God don’t make junk, as my t-shirt once said.

…Also, would “The Handless Organist” be her given Christian name, or is this a nickname she earned later? The record gives no indication. [This one, and a few others, come from Ester Goldberg's blog. Her true treasure lies in heaven for uploading these.]

Illinois: my state invented the corn dog, the ferris wheel, and the Raul Julia of singing midgets. Like The Handless Organist, The Singing Midget apparently doesn’t have a name—first, last, middle or otherwise. It was also an affront to the tens of other Singing Midgets in Illinois, and spawned the landmark copyright case “Singing Midget v. Billy Barty’s Half-Pint Jug Band.” In the case of the album’s name, “Colorful” is obviously an old-timey way to say “Ghastly” and “Evil in God’s Eyes” while seeming fun and innocent. But the Singing Midget knows better, and when these three aren’t suspecting it he’s going to leap out of that bass cello and gnaw their crusading faces off. Then we’ll see who’s “colorful.”

What Handicapped Gospel Album article would be complete without Little Richard Miller, he who is without arms and legs? I wrote extensively about his life story in comic book form HERE, but still think it bears repeating that this dude is the Conan O’ Brian of armless, legless gospel singers. His follow up album—”Jesus, Use Me, Just Not For A Doorstop This Time”—was poorly received, and the tour bus was cut in half and sold to the Singing Midget. Also worth repeating: this album has tracks like “In the Shelter of His Arms.” You don’t see the Handless Organist doing “He’s Got The Whole World In His Hands,” you know. That’s sick. Also sick? The dude was double-promoted twice in high school. What’s that even mean?

I call bullshit—these dudes ain’t blind. Look at ‘em yuck it up, knowingly. I call bullshit. The fact is, you could get PRET-TY far as a blind act in 1939 and the money was just rollin in and…what’s that? They’re STILL TOURING 60 YEARS LATER? Man, that’s a long time to keep up the blind shtick. Especially after that dust-up with another band calling themselves “The Blind Boys of Alabama,” forcing them to add “Original” to their name…and then Gallagher’s brother was calling himself “The Blind Boy From Alabama” and…the whole thing just got ugly.

They finally had a hit not too long ago and…well, this video kind of makes me goosebumpy. Plus, “their rendition of Tom Waits’ ‘Way Down in the Hole’ was used as the theme song of the HBO series The Wire in its first season” according to Wikipedia. Pretty good for some fake blind fellows. Don’t believe me? Listen to the subtext of the song: “Was Blind But Now I See.” I’m not asking for “Paul is Dead, Paul is Dead…” but c’mon! Hide your ruse a little better!:

Maybe they should have called this album “Lord, It Is By Faith in Our Calculations Alone That This Trio is a Five-Piece.” These guys did a bunch of albums in their day and don’t sound half bad, but it’s unclear who did what. I think the tall guy sings, and the guy in the wheelchair is like the Professor Xavier of gospel music—I only say that because he’s surrounded by mutants.

And THAT brings us to this little album I bought not but 2 days ago: Merrill Womach’s “Happy Again.” So, basically, Merrill Womach is like a burned face version of Mickey Rourke, with a little Tom Waits sprinkled in.

According to the album, the guy was horribly burned after surviving a horrible plane explosion. And, praise be to Jesus, they even show you on the album’s inner fold!

Hey, now that’s something I wanted to see. You could have just told me “it looked as if someone had taken a marshmallow and left it in the fire too long,” and I would have believed you, Mr. Womach. But, no we get to see it. We get to see it all. He even does a song called “Here Comes the Son,” because actually doing “Here Comes the Sun,” (or “Hot, Hot, Hot,” or “Fire Down Below” for that matter) would just be in poor taste. And thank the maker, we get to HEAR him thanks to the magic of the internet. You’ll be surprised to learn his vocal chords are completely melted, he sounds like a dehydrated donkey braying out praises. Just kidding, he sounds like this:

“He has promised to dry every tear in my eye…”

Yep. That’s fucked up.

Maybe Merrill and this guy can get together and do a world tour. I mean, I’d pay to see that. If one blown up dude is an inspiration, two would be like an inspiration explosion!

Did you know there exists a Science Fiction Museum? Well, I guess if you’re a hardcore fundamentalist Christian, every museum is kind of like a science fiction museum (but I kid WASPs! I kid! Sorry to kick you when you’re down with the passing of Oral “Snicker!” Roberts). The Bad News is, it’s in Switzerland. The good news, my best best buddy Joe….who you know from THIS VIDEO about Teenage Turtle Abortion…

…has been selected for THIS!:

A new music compilation CD, produced by Maison d’Ailleurs, is now accepting submissions. The CD will be produced in 5600 copies, distributed for free with the music magazine Vibrations in March 2010, to accompany a Music and Science Fiction exhibition at the museum.

About the exhibition:

Maison d’Ailleurs is staging an exhibition about Music and Science Fiction from March 6th to August 1st 2010, which will explore the way that Science Fiction has permeated music genres. Not only has Science Fiction been linked to technological innovation in musical instruments since the theremin, but thanks to its metaphorical potential, Science Fiction narratives and images have been widely used by musicians, from Sun Ra to Magma, Kraftwerk to Carl Craig, Louis and Bebe Barron to Hawkwind…

Sounds cool, right fellow geeks? Joe and I have been making music together—sweet, sweet music—since we were kids (there’s still an Angelfire page out there to prove it. More on that later), and lately he’s really grown leaps and bounds despite the fact that neither of us have any clue what we’re doing, and are just having fun. Well, that’s actually just what Joe would want me to say. He’s actually very talented. Add in the fact that he teaches “bad girls” for a living in Japan, and his super-talented wife makes stop motion Wookie films, and it’s possible I actually hate him.

Say, why not listen to his MySpace tunes? his albums are available for free download HERE.

And here’s another from his Super Battlestation Robot EP: “Prepare for a Mind War.” I did they original vocals for this song but they succccked hard. If you listen closely, you can hear me doing some of the screamy stuff in the background. But thank god he didn’t use my tracks.

I got to go to a three year old’s birthday party yesterday, which would normally be hell on earth but her dad, Eric, had the insight and wisdom to have the party at Hooters. A very good time was had by all. Between distractions, he mentioned something to me his buddy said: “The only way I would listen to Lady Gaga is if her name was Lady Galaga.” I thought this was the most brilliant thing I’d heard all week. Then I remembered seeing this in eighties issue of Electronic Monthly. Or maybe I dreamed it [click on image for full size]

Step 1: Go to Six Flags with your kid brother in the early nineties. Step 2: Appear in a karaoke version of a New Kids on the Block song. Step 3: Shamed by the video and shunned by peers for admitting you like NKOTB, you lock it away in a cabinet for 20 years and begin a downward spiral of social stability. Step 4: Accidentally donate it to the Salvation Army. Step 5: Smart-ass finds it. Step 6: Internet star.

Step by Step, the Bad Ladds! from World of Wardcrap on Vimeo.

I love these kids. This video is almost too adorable for this website. I wonder who they are? I wonder why someone would get rid of a tape like this? I wonder if the kid on the drums was so bored because, in the overpriced Six Flags “Make a Music Video” studio, the drums have no drum heads. It’s true. Sorry to ruin the magic. I convinced my parents to let me do one of these videos only because I wanted to play the drums, only to learn there are neither drums to play or guitars with strings. I can’t remember what song we did, either. But I remember how disappointed I was between the sham music video, and the chalk caricature of me in roller blades. I wonder where my Six Flags music video is? Probably in my parent’s basement in a box marked “Donate to Goodwill Center.”

A magical thing hit the internet yesterday. And it finally allows me to tell an amazing story that I’ve been waiting to tell for years. If you’re not “in the comic industry,” (and, lord knows, I barely am at this point) you may want to skip to the hilarious audio bits at the Jump.

Because, at its heart, this post is about a shitty band. The world’s shittiest band. The band that drove Scott Kurtz to the place of madness he is now. The band Court Jester.

But why not hear the whole amazing tale, hmm? Why not dip your toes into the daily cry-baby shenanigans that make up The Comics Industry, won’t you?

CLICK THROUGH TO EXPERIENCE SCOTT KURTZ’S WILDEST NIGHTMARE!
(more…)

Hey, why not listen to a really amazing 80s flavored Halloween Mix by my friend DJ Daymage while you read this post? You can even Download it RIGHT HERE.This jam is perfect for Halloween parties, or as you’re putting on your slutty, slutty costume (you tramp!).

I’ve been listening to “Hall09een” every day since I got it, and haven’t been in a bad mood since.

DJ Daymage’s mix is cold Halloween rain on a rubberband-and-staple mask. It’s not believing in the razor-blade apple legend, but secretly believing it. It’s Elvira and Spuds Mackenzie, like holiday clockwork, on your television. It’s a hard plastic pumpkin bucket. It’s my childhood in headphones.

The punk/hair metal/goth industrial blend (naturally) just oozes with a kind of gritty, Vestron Video/Cannon Films/Golan-Globus Productions quality that takes me back to marathon VHS viewings of anything directed by Fred Dekker or starring Donald Pleasence. I can’t get enough of it. It makes me feel like I have a little candle in my belly, and I’m sitting on your front porch.

Every Halloween since high school, I have a tradition where I blare The Misfits Collection II as it gets dark out. This year, I think I officially have a new tradition.

The thing I like most about it, is it doesn’t go for the easy Halloween inclusions (there’s only a cursory nod to Thriller, along with that hilarious Michael Jackson voice outtake from the Special Edition). That said, I enjoy the cheap chainsaw and scream effects here and there, because those terrible haunted houses are so closely tied to low-budget horror movies in my mind. The audio segues are both hilarious and organic (sorry, I hate using that word…but I’m too tired to come up with something else and it fits), especially the Dead Alive clip about “a splitting headache, and the stupid hip hop is not helping.”

This is pure 80s, low-budget, grimy slasher stuff. I instantly feel 10 again when I hear this…from the scratchy excerpts from kid’s read-along records, to Freddy Krueger in not one, but TWO endearing and cheesy raps by DJ Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince and the Fat Boys. Say what you want, “Are You Ready For Freddy”‘s chorus is catchy, like trying to put a razor-bladed glove through the arm of your sweater.

Pictured: Someone pitched this at a meeting. They voted “yes.”

And even that Fresh Prince song, silly as hell, still makes me feel a little freaked out. This guy Jess Matthews and I had it on a little brown tape recorder when we were kids, and used to walk through this tiny alley by my dad’s office (where we swore there was blood on the wall), made up our own Freddy mythology, listened to the song, sang and acted out the parts (I was usually The Fresh Prince. Too scared to watch the actual movie to get Freddy’s moves down).

Similarly, a girl I work with made me turn the mix off when the Silver Shamrock song from Halloween III plays. When there’s no more logic in hell, irrational fears will walk the earth.

Also, to this day, the bass line from “Bela Lugosi’s Dead” can still reanimate a thousand zombies.

So you’ve got the J. Geils Band Fright Night theme, “Halloween” by Siouxsie and the Banshees, Pet Semetary by the Ramones (as seen in my friend TJ’s amazing Weirdest Horror Movie Songs write-up at Topless Robot), and Evil Nine’s “They Live,” an amazing song I’d never heard (it’s a lot like Daft Punk’s Technologic meets a 7-minute John Carpenter fist fight). And a whole bunch more.

My only complaint is I wanted it to go on a little longer. But, if it’s anything like it’s subject matter, I expect a cheap and easy sequel. With more blood.