Sinister: Winners, losers, loopers and stuff

[Tim Hopkins]

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

=====

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