blog safari: Marilyn Manson concert

the following slideshow contains foul launguage, obscene gestures, partial nudity, puke, ear bleeding music, sacreligious imagery, net abuse, etc. full commentary can be found below the slideshow so you can skip it and still get a review of the evening.

so. the marilyn manson concert. i spent the best light in the parking lot. there were a bunch of evangelist types with bullhorns out there trying to save souls. they thought the clothes and piercings and tattoos were evil. i said to one of the guys "you know, seems like real evil kinda likes to blend in like Ted Bundy or Jeffery Dahmer types. clean cut. "normal". doctors with a wife and 2.3 kids and a secret hole in their basement where they keep ferrets and missing schoolgirls. i mean Jame Gumb was a seamstress for rotties sake! how threatening is that?

after some discussion of the bible it was determined that i too, was destined to the eternal lake of fire by my association with catholicism. i moved on and took pictures during the opening act "Slayer". *grrrherhahaha*

Before Manson came on i wanted to take my cheap digital camera inside the gates for the last photos before dark. i could have brought better equipment to shoot in low light but a good camera would be too big to get past the "pat-down" and "confiscation" part of the experience. as it was, i had to smuggle the camera inside the gates in my underwear along with a small water bottle of cazadorres. it was a real struggle just to walk in without looking like i had a serious health issue.

the stage glowed red from behind the curtains. the smoke machines cranked. a weird taped gibberish began. the figure of Manson was sillhouetted in a pose like in the Exorcist when Regan is kneeling on her bed reaching for the sky with her claws.
the low end drum beat started and it was so overdriven it literally blew back my hair. as the first "song" started in earnest i thought i might be having a heart attack. im not kidding. i considered leaving right then before i became a spectacle myself. it was pretty insane the sound level. i couldnt discern a melody of any kind. everyone was smoking. i was kind of scared.
grrrherhaha not really. well maybe, a little tiny bit.

Manson pranced around the stage which had a giant chair in the center. he would climb onto it now and then and lay with his butt to the audience and his legs in the air spread eagle as he reached through to fondle himself. the crowd roared in approval. i couldn't stop laughing, but when i did i kept sucking up smoke and body odor fumes and worried about the heart attack again. we were only a few rows back from the pit and i was sorta worried that the pogo people's piercings would somehow get hooked up wrong and they would tear, but i really couldn't see that well because there were millions of strobe lights aimed at the crowd that pulsated in a frantic disturbing pattern. i bet this kind of aural and visual abuse is unheard of at Gitmo or wherever our dark nefarious torture labs are.

Every so often Manson would hump the stage or put his hand down his pants and writhe around. it was not real impressive for me. i mean, this guy was flaccid and pale, floppin around like somebody snuck into his black den one night and sewed some tilapia to his upper arms. he might be forty or so. i had adjusted to the sonic boom of sound and had sunk into deep reflection: what a drag to have your art form be this restrictive! what if he doesn't want to do this anymore? what if he is tired of black fingernail polish? how bad do those goat's eyes contacts hurt? why doesn't he have a chin? can't he afford a weight room? i wonder if the cokes are 7 dollars?

suddenly a famous song began and the activity around me ramped up enough to break my thoughtful repose. The dope show! famous song. "we're all stars, in the dope show!" a screen behind Manson showed a montage of pills floating through space interspersed with the word "drugs". another roar of approval. i was truly embarrassed for him to have such a pitiful lack of imagination. but then embarassment gave way to anger. why in the hell am i not a millionaire? what's wrong with me? if Manson, with limited talent and makeup thick enough to scrape up a shingle with an american express card can do it, so could I! as i planned my meteoric descent into low culture prosperity the damn thing came to an end. just like that.

we filed out like dumb animals on a plank to slaughter. i griped about the litter. "how hard can it be to take your can of "freek" to the waste bins...located every 50 feet?" my buddy shrugged. on the ride home she started telling me how great Che Guava was. i slumped over in the futility pose and realized i was really really tired. i got home, ate a bowl of orange sherbert and layed in bed still throbbing but holding salvation in the form of sweet Flannery's words, sporting a smile of appreciation for this dog's life./grrr

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Mute Monday: Dog Daze

tagged by new blogmate artfulsub with a new meme: no talking ('cept for this explanation) just pictures....each new monday brings a new theme. this week is "dog days". my apologies for the recycling and Trout heavy imagery. next up: the marilyn manson concert. (aunty belle stay away!) grrrherhaha. okay. no more talkin' now.

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this one's for Iamnot

I was tagged by iamnot to do the 8 random things about me meme. I have been tagged with this meme twice already, but because i have a minor (and completely non-threating) blog crush on iamnot, i cannot refuse his tag. However i will answer this tag in photographs as a nod to his own rather impressive skill behind the lens. so with no further ado:

#1: my new favorite cocktail: the hypnotiq martini. hypnotiq is a blue liqueur made of cognac, vodka and some kind of fruit juice. then i add coconut rum and orange-pineapple juice, a squeeze of lemon or lime, shake with crushed ice and strain. blue monkey optional.

#2: i am heart-broken and hardly able to work or write because i may have to send Trout, my sweet nut-brown hound, to the country to live on a farm. If i hadn't come back to the city this wouldnt be happening. regret is my co-pilot.

#3: number 7 on Iamnot's list was his problem with "completion". grrrherhaha. let's see if he can top this: i have a studio full of incomplete paintings. Here are just three examples:

this one's stuck at the background noise stage

this one, a painting of Luke, is stalled out for no good reason.

this one has been like this for almost 6 months.

#4: i was recently annoyed by the news story about how Cecilia Munoz, the spokeswoman for "La Raza", plans to start a campaign to register and mobilize voters and to address "hate" messages spewed by conservative talk shows.
"That had an extraordinary impact in and as a nation, I don't think we should be comfortable with the fact that the U.S. Senate responded to what was largely a wave of hate."

this is the level of political discourse in the USA now. Citizens decide they want to enforce immigration laws and that makes them racists. Irony alert: a short photo essay on "La Raza" which means "The Race" whose motto is : "Por la raza todo: "For the Race, Everything"

Grrrherhahaha! Instruction on "hate waves" provided by EXPERTS!

#5: favorite TV star:

Little Yellow Jacket

#6: This is a recent editorial illustration i did about "hiccups" starring Mr. She:

#7 i love thunderstoms and scary weather and love to be out in it. this is what the sky over Atlanta looked like last night:

#8:for some inexplicable reason my friend has tickets to Marilyn Manson and Slayer for saturday. predictably, no one wanted to go with her. But i agreed to go because of the potential for a fun photo blog for next week. Stay tuned.

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you'll get my carbon credits when you pry them out of my cold dead paypal account

This week was remarkable for the many ways the fraudulent left were exposed for the elitist racist jerks they actually are. these are people who are so rich they can insulate themselves from the dopey policies they want to foist onto us proles in middle 'merica.

Live Earth, the prelude to the shakedown, is a dream come true for anyone who wanted the liberal left exposed and televised in living color. Theres been a million funny hypocrisies to examine here starting with the obvious that the extravagant lifestyles the elite lead, both entertainers and politicians, leaves a carbon footprint you can see from pluto.

i don't care that they are richer than God until the super rich tell us mere mortals to live like the truly poor while exempting themselves. but wait, their careers require this, right? and and and look at all the good they are doing by pole dancing for the polar ice caps! Madonna even wrote a SPECIAL SONG thus doing her part to offset the 23 billions of gas units she emits.

nobody on the stage ever talked about stopping touring or leaving their hollywood gigs for a job that didn't contribute to global warming on such a monsterous scale. and did you know they had yousef whoever who used to be cat stevens educate us on what we should be doing? this guy who called for a fatwah on salman rushdie on TV? i guess it makes sense, one less writer=less carbon emissions.

it was fun to read the commentary on the internet trashin' out Live Earth. some of the best stuff came out of the UK and austrailia which isnt surprising since they are far better at creating cinematic art than the dolts in hollywood. it must've been annoying to suffer these fools. and, they rightly recognize that Islam presents a greater threat to the planet than your SUV and incandescent light bulbs. i imagine seeing their neighborhoods go wahabi crystallizes and prioritizes like nothing else.

i must've missed the concert against saddam burning all those oil wells polluting the air, saddam the largest killer of birds in all of history (by burning up migrating birds) and poisoning the wetland areas they counted on in their long journey. which is weird since rachel carson is a liberal demi god for bringing DDT to an end, saving the birds, but condemning millions in africa and other equatorial nations to death by malaria. let's see, save the birds, kill the black and brown people. but it wasn't that simple...see the bird kill was overuse of the DDT and could be managed to minimize environmental damage. but the africans never had a chance cause it was banned outright.

what was the point of the LiveEarth concert? to raise awareness? the point of the concert was to raise awareness of the megalomanics performing. in fact a "cause" is merely a vehicle for which compassion can be demonstrated by the most narcissistic people on the face of the earth.

they have a 7 point plan they want US, read: us in the USA, to pledge we will meet personally. if everybody in 'merica does that it wont matter because China is coming on strong. right behind them? India. Oh, and these people lovers don't want africa to follow in our footsteps. so, china and india are excluded but these poor guys in Africa got to be kept down. these are the people who decry "racism" when they are the poster children for racism.

don't believe it? then how about this other lovely tidbit from the week: Vanity Fair's "Africa" issue.

on the eve of the planet saving narci-fest, i stood in line at the book store looking at the current copy of Vanity Fair with a photo of Madonna (planetary savetress and the final performer at LiveErp) and Maya Angelou (poet-laurate, wisewoman). the issue was about Africa. there was an alternative cover too. this one had leonardo di caprio with Djimon (?), the black actor that was in gladiator. Leo was full frame and the other guy was half off the page. now, vanity fair is helmed by liberal activist editor graydon carter, the elitist anti-america butt kissing celeb worshipper. and he has offered us a breathtaking view of the limo left in a single shot.

elitists show their true face when you see a fake-british-speaking pop star included with the portrait of maya on this very important issue on africa. why werent the elegant residents of the actual continent on the cover? why not Maya on her own? surely her resume trumps madonna's. and since libs think you cant comment on anything unless you live it, then i say being black like maya gets her closer to africa than madonna therefore making madonna completely superfluous. but remember! the real point of the cause is too showcase the compassion of the celebrities, just like Live Earth.

this photo tells me that the makers of this magazine think an issue is not important unless some rich, and in this case white, celebrity signs on and implores the broke ass everday working guy american to pony up for the sorrows of the world to balance out all the bad shyt they do like breathe.

how insulting is it to see that a scholar and class act like maya angelou still has to pose with an aging white pop tart to sell a magazine. if they didnt believe that they wouldn't print it. these are the people who instruct us on racism! whos the biggest name on that magazine? it's Bono! the image itself is irritating...what is Madonna doing? giving Maya a blown kiss to bestow upon her the supreme benevolence of attention and concern from the Great One Who Comes Down Off Her Mirrored Cross To Care About Africa By Posing For Yet Another Photo?

remember after katrina when the celebrities manned the phone lines so they could take the offerings of everyday people in 'merica. how much more effective, less bloated and bureaucratic would it have been to simply write a check?

it would have been SO much more simple, BUT IT WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN TELEVISED!

How many refugees from Darfur do you think could fit into Leo's house here, and er, what kind of carbon footprint do you think running this place leaves? you think he pays more for pool chemicals then say, the 13K al gore spends a month on his electric bill? On just one of his houses?

Its time for us dogs and horses and bulls and other barnyard animals to get revolutionary and get the Animal Farm back from these pigs. and i think the tide is turning against these phony marxist pricks. i really do!

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doin' vanille's baby photo meme

vanille here is my "baby" photo. I couldn't find one earlier than this. how about those white gloves and hat? and check out my "power stance"! grrherhaha

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happy fourth of july!

she/chickory reporting from the sidelines at a small town parade. see all the photos here

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valentine for a guitar player and his mistress Fender (a killer trip down memory lane)