Hello people, Well the results of the profanathon have been counted, skewed, laughed at and hopelessly twisted. Peter Snow was round our house last night desperate to undertake a graphically-based statistical analysis of the projected and real results, but I told him to get lost. It was late and anyway I had a nice cup of tea to drink. I am going to tell you the names of the winners but not give you the full horror of their entries because, frankly, I'm embarrassed to. You people are disgusting. Vile. Twisted. Perverted. First some disqualifications. David Moore Chelmsford UK is disqualified for purchasing two copies of Nalda Said last night. Fluffy Sarah is disqualified for having won Vic Godard's guitar the other day, which is quite enough winning for any lifetime. Peter Miller has already won a copy, albeit while he was masquerading as Honey's father. Stevie Trousers is disqualified on the grounds that him winning might look like nepotism. Honourable mentions and near misses to Paula Cullen for the revolting earwax reference, to Rob Halcrow, to Matthew Dogbert and to Cynthia Someone. I couldn't award the prize to Merci Buckets, Baby Chris and Daniel Hooper, because their entries scared me too much to make me laugh. And so it falls to me to award the much coveted prizes to: 1. Mister Carsmile Steven Hewitt, with a special mention for Jisobel Campbell and Stuart Merde-och. 2. Rich, AKA Which, for usine the sort of rhyming slang which would appeal to a Mockney like me. 3. Paula Cullen for a genuinely revolting tirade. Honey will be in touch about the claimimg of your booty. Yes indeed. Congrats to the winners and commiserations to the others. Bless you all. I also very nearly awarded a copy to Joss Moorkens for writing a whole short story of such spectacular filth that it doesn't bear repetition. He earned my respect for flagrantly ignoring the rules and going for the out and out offence angle. Paula, will you lend your copy to Professor Joss, please, because I think he deserves it. Now, on to the burning issues of the day. To whit: Pooper and censorship. In reverse order: CENSORSHIP I suggest that we combine the two most important list issues of recent weeks and compile a TOP TEN LIST of things that should be censored. If this works I will sugest we compile a TOP TEN LIST of erect penises in film. I myself am a firm believer in censorship, refusing to let 4AD Records t-shirts in my house. Tell the truth, I keep a little 'secret museum' of photographs of 4AD t-shirts under my bed, with which to frighten myself and someties visitors to the house. But I would never show them to children, dogs, the lower social orders or the womenfolk. No-one knows what damage might be done. Peter Miller asked for appropriate questions for Pete Townshend. How about "why don't you retire, bignose?" or "next time you play live, how about providing your audience with a soundproof box?" LOOPER This week's compulsive mailer Deeeno said:
It was OK, spoiled by the hippy
Andy is overly generous. Looper were poor to the point of being rubbish, a fare of stodge leavened by 'Impossible Things' and one more good one, the name of which I forget. The more melodic end of their output is tolerable if rather out-takey, while the dancier stuff just sounds pathetic and weak. Someone was right on the money when he said that 'Who's afraid of Y2K' sounds like Jesus Jones. Except (and I am truly sorry to say this, in full knowledge of the gravity of what I'm saying) Jesus Jones's lyrics were better. However, Looper looked like all-conquering genius by comparison to the Khaki Necromancing Octopus Buddha, a self-congratulatory, ranting hippy whose drugs experience was, like, so, like, enlightening, maaan, that he had to, like, come and bellow at us about it. Yes indeed folks, more boring tripe about the pineal gland. I might see if I can have my pineal gland removed if that is what it does to you. His third eye was as wide as the sky, apparently. I dedicate 'Spit In The Sky' by Lee Perry to him. The only thing that dragged the evening away from intolerable shiteness was the fine company. Hello chaps. Looper were so late taking the stage that the quality of their fare needed to be damned good to make up for it. It wasn't, and neither was Stuart David's ungracious, mumbling apology. I wish I'd trusted my instincts and left before they came on. OOH! CENSORSHIP AGAIN! I wrote:
4AD t-shirts are banned from my house
Wrong again, me, I am afraid. Not two weeks ago there was *more than one* 4AD shirt in the house at the same time. What's more, you invited Steady Mike round the other day while he had a Wolfgang Press shirt on. Didn't I? And what about Trousers's collection of early Bauhaus shirts? Eh? EH? Rachel, if you think I have a foul mouth, you should see the rest of me. Perhaps not, actually. That's all for now. Peace and love, children Tim ===== __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Bid and sell for free at http://auctions.yahoo.com +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the reborn Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail "sinister@majordomo.net". To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to "majordomo@majordomo.net". WWW: http://www.majordomo.net/sinister +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "tech-heads and students" +-+ +-+ "the cardie wearing biscuit nibbling belle & sebastian list" +-+ +-+ "jelly-filled danishes" +-+ +----------------------------------------------------------------------+