Fantasy Fools

Posted: September 19, 2014 in Fuck You Friday, Humanity is a virus, Shovels

Well, that shitstain James O’Keefe has found a way to make himself look even more idiotic:

It’s a rolling lump of straight up paranoid insanity.  You have to watch it to believe it…especially when the dude puts a ski mask on, and then they say “nobody even notices the terrist!”  And since nobody would play along, they had to have a little scripted interaction with terrible accents.  And then, there’s bag full of rice that is labeled “ricin” and the big red ball of Ebola…. it’s a wonderful sticky mess of racism and delusion.

And O’Keefe, you laughable failure, it’s already been done, and far far better:


Jeebus, this guy is such an immense ignoramus with delusions of adequacy.  Isn’t he supposed to be in jail for one or another of his illegal lying hijinks?

Fuck, I hate these people.

So, am I a sucker for the marketing arm of Big American Sucker Chinese Made Crap?

Yes.  They have identified me as a target market, and yes, I am susceptible.  Yes, Fuck Damn it, I am:

I also plunked for the Zombie Yard Flamingo.

But at the end of the day, I figure that this obsession with my brethren will only make you breathers misunderstand the threat, but also mostly misinterpret it as a Walking Dead episode, until it’s too late.  So it’s all written into the Zompacalypse Master Plan.  My undead brethren are nothing if not adaptable…


Re the Post Title.  It is from one of my favoritest bands, and I am perplexed by the fact that BBBB knows people related to the band but has never seen them, when they are from his neck of the woods and play there ALMOST ALWAYS.  Yes, it’s the Figgs, from a full album release of an old EP of theirs (Badger!)

The Figgs are one of the most awesome pub-punk-garage bands I know of.  In a rational world, they would be playing at bars in every single city in the world;  They would be releasing free albums on iTunes, because they are more true and devoted to the heritage and passion of the music they love than U2 has ever been…

I have often talked about this band that I loved since I saw them back up Graham Parker on a silly TV show, but in addition to GP, they exploded out of the TV in a way that made me insist that we see them at a small punk club… and they kicked ass in a way that makes you stagger.  And we saw them so many times since, they are such great guys and they play just as extreme when it’s for many hundreds of people as when they play for me and Silent Mike and four other people and they are massively hungover….

But nobody gives a shit what I say about music, anymore.  Oh Well.  They are spectacular to see live, and that’s where music lives, ain’a?  in live performances.  I sit here, drunkenly eating grapes and trying to type this fucking  crap in order to push the things I feel out onto this fucking Mojo wire and what fucking difference does it make?  You still have to use mines to keep those stupid fucking dogs off the couch, and then try to keep people like Zevon from getting at the GOOD armaments.

I suffered the slings from a friend who went to see Bob Mould tonight, with Cymbals Eat Guitars tonight, because I bailed; but we are seeing War On Drugs next week with Califone opening.

And if you have never heard of those bands, you need to get your shit together and find some kind of suck-ass streaming service that hardly pays artists for their fucking postage, and listen for yourself…

No comment necessary…

I love that band.  counting back, seen ‘em three times: twice with Westerberg sober, once where he was so drunk he had to sit on a chair for the encores, and Chris Mars was wearing clown makeup.

Closest they’re coming (so far) is MPLS.

Hey, I had an email exchange with MenD on Facehell recently (yes, he IS apparently still alive!  Who knew?  But since the Bloggerhood has turned ghost towny….well, whatever and ever amen, right?) In which he missed an obvious straight line to which the answer should be “no, but if you play a couple of bars I will follow on my accordion”

So I wrote a song…


Alright alright, I RE-wrote a song (happy now?):

I ‘ve got a blog
Evading responsibility 
You’re de ninth person to link 
or comment in a posted  
Linkbait catastrophe 
It’s a minor site but fuck
Augmented by the hostility of commenters 
But if you’re lucky you won’t see
animated goat-se

Sheesh, it’s like Ian Dury has been re-animated or something…


As I mentioned a while back, we went to Irish Fest to see Black 47 for the LAST TIME THEY WOULD EVER PLAY MILWAUKEE. Zelmo was not able to make it, he had familial duties.  So I got him a copy of Last Call, the final Black 47 album (and it is a fine one, yes it is and you would be poor-served if you didn’t just go out and find yourself a copy.



So yeah, I stood in the line-up to talk to Larry Kirwan (Big Bad Bald Bastard’s Best Buddy, apparently) and get that disc signed for Zelmo, because that IS THE FUCKING WAY I ROLL FOR MY ZOMBUDDIES.  And managed to get a decent picture of the two of us:

zombie and Larry

LOOK how excited I am!


Worth mentioning is that this is, I am pretty sure, the FIRST TIME I have ever appeared in a blogpost, in any of the seventeen or thirty eleven different iterations of this blog.  So know you all know what I look like, more-or-less, and that I am WAY taller than Larry Kirwan.


Too much talk.  No write.  Post video. Von doesn’t care anymore anyway.

Neko with Friend of Zombie the Great Kelly Hogan:


Oh, yeah.  BTW and Such:

Much bittersweet tonight, with what Larry Kirwan said from stage ” the last time Black 47 will ever play Milwaukee”

But a bit of glorious shambolic Irish-American-punk-folk party at pretty much the largest Irish festival in America.  Irish Fest covers most of the Summerfest grounds for four days, and has become an annual stop for many  Irish heritage bands from America, Ireland, and Canada.  Walking up to the gates, the announcements are in English and Gaelic…

Oddly, the white racists gobs never say that these folks should be giving up on their ancestral culture or languages.  Gosh, I wonder what could the difference be?

Anyway, I got my picture took with Larry Kirwan after the show, and got a CD signed for Zelmo, who was elsewhere attending to a new babby in the fambly-adjacent.

And following B47, we had a date for the Irishfest headlining gig of local zombie faves Whiskey Of The Damned.  We have been watching Eoin (pronounced Owen?) play sweaty punky drinky songs since he was helping out the DIY Refugee Stage at Summerfest. He used to play some Pogues covers with pick-up musicians there.  But  eventually he put together a band of his own, and what a goddam band.  He has partnered with Gina on violin, and I like to joke that the other three members of the band look like BOC roadies from 1975.  But they all play like motherfuckers, and trust me friends and guinea pigs, but I have to tell you that tonight they played an old classic “Streams Of Whiskey”, which had also been previously defined by the Pogues.  But tonight, o yes tonight, they re-defined that song; gloriously fast, and the Pogues version is now in second place and sorry Shane.


Eoin McCarthy’s father is Finbar McCarthy, another Irish musician who immigrated to Milwaukee because the nickname was Brew City.  Finbar played before WOTD on the stage, so it was quite a family affair.

I remember when Black 47 played Irish Fest for the first time.  Many of the older attendees were distressed about the emphasis on guitar and the addition of hip-hop rhythms and rapping vocals by Chris Byrne.  The overt populism and political bent was off putting to a crowd that had largely found that the best way to get along was to not talk about the politics.  Larry Kirwan says that “to be Irish is to BE political!” and tonight the crowd roared.  The anthem “James Connelly” was greeted with screams and cheers, and the crowd held fists aloft to this populist, working class and union hero.

On the drive home, we mused about the bands I tried to remember when I first discovered Black 47.  It struck me that it was due to an interview with some guitar hack from some small-time band  who ridiculously called himself “Edge”, who referred to this punky New York Irish Hip-hop band, that made me curious enough to search out their independent first release (which Wife Sublime famously hated; of course, now she loves them).  I am pretty damn sure that I saw them the first time they played Milwaukee after that, and after that they instantly were escalated to the Zombie Pantheon.

They once did an entire album based on letters they had received from soldiers stationed in Iraq.  Called , of course, Iraq.  With the history of Irish fighters in the homeland, and in American wars, how could they not?

On stage, Kirwan reminisced about starting the band with Chris Byrne, when they talked in a bar about the demise of the Clash and the death of Bob Marley, and there was a gap for political bands.

Amidst the musical gumbo of NY avant-garde, hip-hop, old school New Wave and Irish Heritage, I have always been in love with the political content.  Populist songs like James Connelley and the Big Fellah enthralled me; at the same time stories of working class desperation in Livin’ In America, Losin’ It,, and Danny Boy sing about the travails of real working class people.

Speaking of the travails of real people, one of the fellow travelers among some of the Usual Suspect Blogs, jurassicpork,  has been in rough times lately, but has persevered, putting together what looks like a fine book, and has been shopping it.  He has been shopping it and is getting close to a publishing deal; but in the interim has the standard Modern American Economy shitstorm need to keep life and limb and hope together and as such, is stepping up a financing effort.

He has a great setup of incentives (and a mordantly sarcastic account of why he won’t do it through Kickstarter.  Mainly revolving around potato salad).  The book looks great and I encourage you to go there and throw a couple of dollars in the jar.  More, if you want to participate.

Look, most of y’all know that I have been skint as fuck for quite a few years (it tracks pretty closely to the activity in construction Weird huh?).  It’s been a very tough several years for me, and it now seems to be loosening up — just a bit!- and although I am not taking anything for granted, I am also finding it possible to help others out.  I don’t know if I believe in Karma, and the idea of “pay it forward” is treacly bullshit.  But I DO believe in paying for music and art and writing that I enjoy.  So I punted some money his way, and you should too. 

If you ain’t familiar with the dude, check out his writing.  He’s pretty good, and he says fuck a reasonable amount.  Not as much as I do, typically, but then for me it’s a crutch.  TAlks a lot about politics, more focused than I do; We disagree on a fair bit, but I disagree with most of you as well, but you’re still basically good people. As is JP, so help him the fuck out, ‘K?

Added emphasis.  JP needs every few clinks in the internarfles jar that he can get.  It’s not just the booksicles, but there are living expenses and mediacal shit that they need help for.  I know there are a few of you that read this from time to time who have been in similar straits, and are now less skint; so open up your empathy and spare change to send him a dollar or two, willya?  Don’t be dicks.

On stage, Larry reminisced about starting Black 47 as an overtly political band.  They blistered a trail that went far afield from that, of course; but when he talked about disbanding after 25 years, that there needed to be a political band to step back into that void.

There is an argument to be made that political bands make little difference. I think it’s a weak argument, because musicians can both write political songs and be politically active; its easy to point to bands that have done both.

It’s bittersweet that yet another of my favorite bands ever have called it quits, and we will be painting the town 40 shades of blue, indeed.  But even that song ends in exultant anthemic charging fervor.  Black 47 has never been about depression, but always about fighting against the bad shit, kicking against the pricks.

Black 47 has retired, and clearly put out a call for someone to step up into the void.  They stepped up from Marley and the Clash; 25 years on, what a fine fine tradition they can claim, and I am so so happy that I have been able to be part of it all.  BUT  as Larry and Chris said in those long ago days, where is there a political band?  Black 47 and RATM are long gone, who will step up?

Who can sing. Guthrie level, you don’t have to be able to sing so well.  Springsteen and Bono tell us that singing is only OK, but passion is most.  Where is there some passion?


What do you know, there’s this guitar in the corner….