Here we are. I know, it has been an entire week of desperate waiting. Fear not, the moment you yearned for has arrived. It’s Asshole Fuckface Roundup time. I’ve been wading through this shit for a week and it takes its toll. I am drained, weak, saddened and very much in need of a meatloaf... more

Here we are. I know, it has been an entire week of desperate waiting. Fear not, the moment you yearned for has arrived. It’s Asshole Fuckface Roundup time. I’ve been wading through this shit for a week and it takes its toll. I am drained, weak, saddened and very much in need of a meatloaf sandwich on sourdough. I had an exciting week; having learned my new neighbor is an Asshole Fuckface. He hired a drug dealer as a contractor, took out insurance and then, the very next day, burned a couple of rooms down in his duplex by piling rags on a floor heater. Go figure. One plus one equals obvious. But he’s just a tiny, local Asshole Fuckface! I’ve scoured the earth and discovered the worst of the worst, so put on your best plastic moo moo because this is going to be ugly.

First up, some tough guy Asshole Fuckfacery.

Chuck Norris was a sad excuse for an action hero. Now he’s a sad excuse of a human. Oh, and he’s completely insane. Chuck penned an article this week for World Net Daily. It’s pretty fantastic, as it is a classic example of the ramblings of a madman. Ordinarily, a man like Chuck would be milling about in an alley, explaining these theories to a box, but since Chuck was once the poor man’s Steven Segal, he gets to write it down and say it on the radio.

Oh, do tell. And not the part about how Texas becomes its own nation –– the part where you win an election. Even Texas is not that stupid.

Wait. Um. Okay. I think I got that.

Huh. Why do I think your version of an American Revolution includes a handmaid, whose legs you thrust your sweaty body between while holding your wife’s hands?

Did you seriously just use the term “Right wing cells?” That’s awesome, mostly because “cells” are what killed thousands of Americans on 9/11. But, by all means, take that term and fucking run with it. It's all yours, rebel.

Lighten up. You’re a pathetic, washed up, Hollywood action hero. During a revolution, your stupidity would probably not be a valued commodity. And your karate skills would not work so great against an assault rifle. And no, I won’t link to WorldNetDaily (hit Buzzflash, who reposted the pertinent excerpts, if you need a source).

Next up, the first Asshole Fuckface fight club.

Thankfully, we don’t have to leave Texas to find our next Asshole Fuckfaces. Corpus Christi State School is a Texas residential facility that houses disabled young men. Obvious, if one were an Asshole Fuckface caring for disabled young men, one would start a fight club.

I’m going to go way out on a limb here and say that is wrong.

Ha ha! I’m laughing so hard –– but that’s only because I don’t have a soul.

First rule of fight club: You're going to prison. I would also like to recommend a fight club to the death.

Next up, some Catholic Asshole Fuckfacery.

Sometimes we face very tough decisions in life. It must be tough for the big wigs of the Catholic Church because they have to make decisions that will effect whether someone gets to go to heaven, or some shit. They are like gatekeepers, who don’t have sex, except with the occasional boy, and they live a sweet, pampered life in a special city. It’s a bitch. Also, they are all men and have never been pregnant and can’t comprehend giving birth, or dying during childbirth, or the many complicated aspects of carrying a child, so they make harsh rules about abortion. It has nothing to do with them not being able to have a child, or sex.

Anyway, this week an awesome Archbishop of Brazil, named Jose Cardoso Sobrinho, faced a very tough choice: Be one of the worst Asshole Fuckfaces of all time, or not. He went with the first one.

Yes, read that correctly. The Catholic Church would very much like a nine-year-old girl, who was raped by her stepfather, to carry the twins to full term –– even if it would kill her.

The Church, of course, has the back of the archbishop.

Totally. The girl is supposed to die, unfortunately, at the age of nine, after being raped by her stepfather, so she could produce two motherless children, who would grow up knowing they were responsible for their mother’s death, so she could get into heaven. Thems the breaks.

Somebody better call the PR guys.

Finally, a plethora of Republican Asshole Fuckfacery.

Where to start with these amazing fucking idiots. Oh, I know, John Boehner.

Yes. During the worst economic crisis of our lifetime, the thing to do is to stop spending money. Everyone should stop spending. Government, the peoples, everyone. Because economies always do well when no one is spending money. That’s not at all the worst idea and won’t at all lead to the worst possible scenario. This guy is the most powerful Republican. Holy shit.

Next up, Boehner’s underling, House Minority Whip Eric Cantor.

Right. Because people losing their jobs and becoming uninsured will not at all have a negative effect on the already terrible economy. Heathcare is not one of the reasons we are suffering. Healthcare and the economy are totally unrelated. This guy is the second most powerful Republican in the House. Holy shit.

Next up, Governor Mark Sanford of South Carolina. You may have heard of South Carolina. It is #2 in unemployment, currently at an exciting 10.4%. So, what to do with that stimulus?

Yay! Check you out! Taking a stand based on no economic understanding!

I don’t want the money, but I don’t have any other ideas! Reform government! It’s bad. Make it good! This guy is running the state of South Carolina. Holy shit.

They actually don’t know a thing about economics. Hey kids, there are no monetary fixes because you and your peeps fucked everything up. The interest rates are at zero. The dollar is not worth a whole lot. All you’ve got left is debt. Welcome to what you created.



FearTheReaper is a writer, actor and stand up comedian. Check back each Tuesday and Friday for more from FearTheReaper

He's been variously known under monikers such as Buck Satan, Alien Dog Star and Alien Jourgensen and is the brain trust behind such thought-provoking band names as Ministry, Revolting Cocks and 1000 Homo DJs. But Al Jourgensen, who cut a frightening figure with these bands' even more provocative... more

He's been variously known under monikers such as Buck Satan, Alien Dog Star and Alien Jourgensen and is the brain trust behind such thought-provoking band names as Ministry, Revolting Cocks and 1000 Homo DJs. But Al Jourgensen, who cut a frightening figure with these bands' even more provocative industrial music when they emerged in the late eighties and early nineties, is a surprisingly friendly and relatable guy. Once the picture of cocaine and heroin rock star excess, the six-years sober Jourgensen is far more likely to be found at the opera than at an arena concert these days.

Last year, Jourgensen announced the official end of Ministry, and is now marking the occasion with a live CD and DVD (both called Adios. . . Puta Madres), featuring material that's been culled from the band's last tour. And while Ministry is winding down release-wise (a documentary, Fuchi Requiem, will be out later in the year), it's still all systems go for the industrial-techno machinations of Revolting Cocks (now called RevCo), which just released the saucy new album Sex-O Olympic-O.

In a telephone interview from his home in El Paso, Texas, Jourgensen, who is currently working with longtime co-hort/Dead Kennedys frontman Jello Biafra on new music for their Lard project and will soon begin producing the new album from Prong, discusses why RevCo's latest is a personal musical highlight of his career. He also reveals how classical musicians party rock stars under the table and how life is better on the independent side of the music business.

Tamara Palmer: I really appreciate you taking the time to speak with us today.

Al Jourgensen: That's okay, for SuicideGirls, I'm on constant beeper call! I wear a beeper and if it rings from you guys, it's like, "Stop the presses! Everyone stop the bickering! Shh!" But it's kind of like having a harmonica player with a beeper; it doesn't happen much.

TP: But you're prepared in the event of an actual SuicideGirls emergency?

AJ: Yep, I'm prepared just in case. Yeah, I'm there. So, what have you got for me today?

TP: We should probably start by talking about the new RevCo album since it just came out a few days ago.

AJ: Yeah, that's a pretty good album. Have you heard it?

TP: I have. I'm not the biggest trainspotter of your entire career, but it does sound like you've reached a new level of technical precision. It's so clean.

AJ: Yeah, I actually had to work for that one for a living, profession-wise! And in that case I have to give myself a pat on the back, great self-satisfaction.

TP: Are you normally your own harshest critic?

AJ: Yeah, a lot of other times you put it on tape or digital, just let it fly, get drunk and forget about it until a couple of months later. But this was actually eight hours a day trying to make it sound all professional. The production on it sounds like we had a $500,000 budget and we did it in a garage in El Paso for about 5,000 bucks. I love taking those little challenges, those hurdles, to make you seem like something you're not, which is always what the Cocks have been. There's a couple partiers in the band and a couple porn freaks in the band, but, to be honest, we're a bunch of posers.

TP: All just sitting there, drinking tea?

AJ: There's a couple guys in the band that are married now. Some of them don't want anything to do with the lifestyle and they just come to get their little vicarious thrills for like a week and hang out with the real weirdos and then they go home feeling like they're Vikings.

TP: All pumped full of Cock street cred.

AJ: Right, right, right!

TP: When you first came out, I was in junior high school and I just remember how terrifying the name Revolting Cocks was to me. But it also made me curious to know what you sounded like.

AJ: Well, you know how the name came about, right?

TP: I don't, actually!

AJ: We went to a corner pub in Chicago in 1983, me and these two Belgian crazies, Richard 23 of Front 242 and Luc Van Acker. We wanted to do work together and we wanted to do a band, so we cemented it by going to the corner pub and throwing bar stools through windows and just basically attacking each other and breaking everything in the bar, starting a fight with the bikers and this and that. The owner of the place, I'll never forget, was this guy named Dess. He came and yelled at us, he had this big accent and he said, "I'm calling the police! You guys are a bunch of revolting cocks!"

TP: Your life's work and mission was defined for you, right then, was it?

AJ: Yes!

TP: The RevCo album is released independently on your label 13th Planet, but you've been working this way for quite some time. How does it compare, doing it yourself versus working with larger corporations who are so focused on how many sales the album gets in the first couple of weeks and forget about it after that?

AJ: Oh yeah, especially now. It didn't always used to be like that. But now, you know what? The entertainment business is just a nuisance to the major corporations that own the record companies. The record company is like a leper or pariah within a company like General Electric or something. They wish they didn't have it in their hair, but they keep hoping for some big American Idol hit that can actually make them some bottom line. But they don't want to deal with the artist and they don't understand it. It's just gross.

I remember a time when I was releasing records in the nineties and I didn't even know my record was out. People would have to tell me. There was no build-up. But when you're on your own label, you have to nurture it, stroke it with care. This is starting to sound like a porno: Stroke it with care! But you know what I mean? It's different, I'm actually involved in the process of marketing releases and dates and schedules and interviews and blah, blah, blah. Back then, I didn't give a fuck. There wasn't a three-month lead time, they'd tell me I had an interview today and I'd be like, "Okay, about what?" And they'd be like, "You released your album," and I'd be like, "Really?"

TP: Are you sure this also didn't have something to do with your lack of sobriety at that point in time, that you might have missed your release date because you weren't really paying attention?

AJ: Well, yeah, c'mon, that's probably part of it. But now, even if I wasn't sober, if you own your own label you have to be hands-on and involved. Or your label is basically your own band, like some kind of vanity label. I have other bands to worry about, too, and so you actually have to suit up and show up for these people and work this thing. Yeah, it's a lot different than it was back then, but there's no way I could have done what I'm doing now back then as a spoiled, pampered little rock star. And then you just grow up.

All rock stars have had to grow up over the last few years because of the economic crisis and everything bottoming out, everything being about bottom lines -- there's no room for art anymore. A lot of people have had to grow up. Bret Michaels had to go out and get a reality show, although I think he'd probably do it anyways! But you know what I'm saying. People have had to grow up and face the sobering consequences. But we saw this coming for a long time, so we were prepared and built our bunker.

TP: Back to the album for a minute, can you tell me about the songs "I'm Not Gay" and "Lewd Farrigno?" Where did they come from?

AJ: I'm glad you touched on both of those, because I think those two and "Wizard of Sextown" and "Robo Banditos" are four favorites on this record, and are all true stories. Here's the best part. Our singer, Josh Bradford, who is certifiable; I mean, he's insane, okay? He lived in El Paso for about a year while we were doing this record, and the best part is: I couldn't handle him in the studio. I was like, "You're a freak. You have to get the fuck out of here. Go do your vocals at home."

He lived in an apartment complex and I gave him this little mixer board and some headphones and a microphone that he could do his vocals in, on headphones. So nobody heard the music, they just heard him screaming at 3 in the morning, "Lou Ferrigno!" Loud as he could, waking up the whole apartment complex. It was this gated community condo and they voted to throw him out thinking he was a terrorist or something because, at 3 in the morning, they'd wake up to him screaming the chorus of "Lewd Ferrigno." He got thrown out of his house for doing these vocals, which I had to respect him for, because nobody could hear the music, they'd just hear him screaming into a microphone, repeating and chanting the same thing over and over again and not making any sense. They didn't understand he was recording music, they just thought he was going on some weird rant. It was awesome!

TP: Why do you live and work in El Paso, anyway?

AJ: It's like a real accident that I wound up here, but now that I am here, I will never leave. I will be dead and buried here. Maybe as you know, I lived in Chicago for 30 years and that's the only city I really, really like. I love Chicago. But here? It's amazing weather, real estate prices are so cheap -- I couldn't have the compound that I have here, in L.A. And I gotta say I love L.A., people think it's cool to bash it, but I love it. We lived in Venice Beach for like three years, me and my wife.

TP: That's a great place to live.

AJ: I love that place. But there's no way we could have what we have here anywhere near L.A. We'd have to go way the fuck north or way down south to get the kind of property we have here. We have a beautiful, beautiful, beautiful place. It's a gigantic compound with a recording studio, and people come to see us so we constantly have a stream of visitors and people from all over the world that are here and they stay here. And it's gorgeous, we have waterfalls and ponds and things in our backyard. Where am I gonna get that in L.A. for less than like $25 million dollars? Which, I don't have, sorry.

TP: And if you did, you would probably think of better things to do with that money, right?

AJ: Yeah, so here it's just really cheap real estate, really great weather and then you take the rest. The rest for us is, instead of hanging out on the [Sunset] Strip on a Friday or Saturday, we go the opera or we go to the symphony. The El Paso Symphony is great and we've actually donated a ton of money and equipment to them and we work with them whenever we need strings or anything like that on a record. That's our scene. Instead of going to the [Rainbow] or the Whisky on a Friday night and paying ten times the amount of money you need to live there just so you could say you were at the 'Bow? I'd rather be here and go hang out with the symphony. Which, by the way, party much more than fuckin' rockers.

TP: What? I don't believe that, actually.

AJ: No, really. Rockers are pussies. The country people and the symphony people party way harder than rockers. So rockers are pussies.

TP: So the string players are getting all strung out and shit?

AJ: Let's not go quite that far. But let's go with getting completely naked and running down streets.

TP: Having real fun.

AJ: Not only that, but somehow the people in the symphony always get absinthe. Rockers get stupid shit like coke and heroin, while the symphony goes for absinthe. I love to hang with the symphony crowd.

TP: As an artist that breaks ground, I think you do have to hang outside of your expected circles. Why would you just want to hang out with people who follow you?

AJ: You know, there's safety in numbers. Me, I'm in a completely foreign environment if I'm at the Rainbow on a Friday night. I completely feel ill at ease and nervous and weird. Some people live for that night at the Rainbow so they can hand out cards and talk about how they're gonna be in some cosmetic surgeon's son's band. It's no longer how great the music you write is, it's if you're on a retainer and a beeper.

TP: I understand you're not too fond of the computer, either.

AJ: I don't trust it. One solar flare, one meteor away from having no satellite communications, and then what are you going to do? I don't even like phones because I can't see you when I'm talking and I want to know [what you look like]. You work off of facial expressions and you work off of humanity and it's just all so cold to me. I'm kind of old school about it, but then I go into the recording studio and I'm using multi-million dollar equipment that I know exactly how to use and it's like being a 747 pilot.

TP: That's what I was getting at, like you obviously embrace technology in the studio.

AJ: Right, but not in my personal life. That's the last thing I want to be bogged down with in my personal life is a cell phone. Having someone call me while I'm driving so we can have a chat and I can wreck my fucking car or drinking lattes while talking on the phone and texting, that's just stupid.

TP: A woman was arrested last week for breastfeeding and texting on the phone while driving.

AJ: Oh God, is that a felony?

TP: I don't know, but it should be.

AJ: You know what's funny? I've had that exact same charge –– breastfeeding!

While all D&D characters begin as a collection of numbers (on paper, my Eladrin Avenger is 14,12,14,14,16,12) those numbers don’t mean anything without a story to bring them to life. Maybe it’s because I’m a writer, maybe it’s because I have an imagination that I’ve... more

While all D&D characters begin as a collection of numbers (on paper, my Eladrin Avenger is 14,12,14,14,16,12) those numbers don’t mean anything without a story to bring them to life. Maybe it’s because I’m a writer, maybe it’s because I have an imagination that I’ve always had to actively keep under control, but as long as I’ve been gaming, creating backstories for my characters has been as much fun – in some cases, more fun – than actually plunging them into a dungeon.

This comes from the backstory I wrote for Aeofel Elhromanë, the Eladrin Avenger I played for the most recent Penny Arcade D&D podcast. Though I have created hundreds of NPCs and dozens of PCs in my life, Aeofel was the first character I’ve created in about twenty years. As you are about to find out, I spent a little bit of time fleshing him out...

Two days’ journey from Mithrendain, beneath a thick canopy of leaves in the Forest of Astranz, there is a school, where, for countless human centuries, Eladrin have lived and trained, under Melora’s watchful eye.

Aeofel Elhromanë lived in this school for his entire life, devoting each of his 142 years to the service of Melora. He trained beside monks and clerics, and though he never saw battle firsthand, many of his instructors were veterans of the war with the Drow. He never knew his parents, but his fellow students were his House.

Eight nights ago, during the Court of Stars, the school was attacked by Goblin and Kobold raiders, lead by a human warlord. The school’s alarm, which had been silent for a generation, shook Aeofel and his brothers from their daily trance, and they ran from their quarters, ready for battle.

Aeofel dashed across the training grounds, ready to push the invaders back, but all he found was a trail of bodies –– attacker and defender alike –– from the school’s entrance to its shrine. Near the gate, a few warlords skirmished with kobolds, and wild magic crackled in the field beyond, but the attackers had fled the grounds.

His master, the great Avenger Immafen, stood beside the shrine’s entrance. His sword was slick with Goblin’s blood, and he breathed heavily.

“Master,” Aeofel said, “what has happened? Why were we attacked?”

There was no war. There was no reason. The school’s wealth lay in the knowledge it gave its students, and its power was in their training. Why would anyone attack? What could they possibly gain?

“They have taken the Crest,” Immafen said.

Aeofel gasped. The Crest of Melora was a powerful artifact.

Hours later, when the few remaining Kobolds and Goblins had been captured or killed, the surviving students and teachers gathered in the school’s arbor, where Lady Caelynna, an ancient Sword Marshall who was the school’s headmaster, spoke.

“We know that this attack was well-planned, and our captives prove it did not originate in the Feywild,” she said, her milky violet eyes shining with righteous fury.

A murmur of concern passed among the students. Entrance to the Feywild from other planes wasn’t impossible, but it was infrequent. Whoever lead the invasion was powerful, indeed.

“We do not know who took the Crest or why,” she said, “but should it fall to disciples of Ocrus, it could provide a disastrous bridge from the Shadowfell - or worse.

“All schools guard and hold a different artifact of great power within their walls. We were charged with protecting the Crest of Melora,” she said, her musical voice darkening, “and our failure has placed all Eladrin at risk.

“Many of you have never left this place, but you are our most powerful warriors. The fate of the Crest, and perhaps the fate of us all, is in your hands. You will gather with your masters, and follow their instructions.”

The arbor remained silent long after she left. Gradually, the gathered students broke and found their masters.

Immafen put his hand on Aeofel’s shoulder. “You will travel to the mortal world, at a crossing in the Winterbole Forest.”

“The mortal world is vast, Master. How will I know where to look?” Aeofel said.

His voice was kind and reassuring. “You are Eladrin, child. When the crest is near, it will call to you.”

Aeofel self-consciously gripped the hilt of his longsword. “What if I do not hear it, Master?”

“You will,” he said. “At the crossing, you must open yourself to Melora’s grace, and allow her to guide you. She will tell you where your quest begins.”

He took Aeofel’s hand, and gave him a small implement fashioned from dark Sennalwood into the shape of a shell. “Take this, and carry your House with you as you travel, my student.”

Aeofel closed his hand over it. “By Melora’s Grace,” he said. 

Immafen gazed, unblinking, upon him, for a long while. “By Melora’s Grace.”

+=+=+

In the Winterbole Forest, far away from any path, there is a clearing among the oldest trees. At the center of this clearing can be found a trio of stones, just taller than a halfling. To those who are unknowing, they are little more than an anomalous monument, perhaps left by forgotten ancients, or deliberately built by mischievous children to confuse those who happen upon them. To those who would use them, though, they mark a fey crossing, one of many points where the boundary between the fey and mortal worlds is thin and passable to those who know the way.

Aeofel Elhromanë appeared in their center, in a crackling flash of azure light. He clutched his chest as a cry escaped his lips. He had never been to the mortal world, and feeling his House, his people, his entire land ripped away from him was a pain almost too great to bear.

“If I do not retrieve the Crest,” he reminded himself, “I will feel nothing but that pain for the rest of my days.”

He reached into his robes. On a strap around his neck, he wore the implement Immafen had given him. He held it now, and spoke softly.

“Meloratoh Ancien Ethlochmir. Fea galena sindath.”

Where there had been silence before, he heard the thundering of a river, and knew that it he would find it, several leagues away, through thick forest that would be unpassable, even to Sylvans. A gust of wind blew into his face, swirling leaves into his long hair, and around his face. A voice heard only by him whispered, “Fallcrest.”

With his free hand, he touched one of the stones. He could see the feywild within, the way a footprint remains on the beach, after the sea has washed over it. 

“I will not fail,” he said. “I will return the Crest, and I will punish those who stole it from us.”

He walked into the forest, and began his journey.

***

Now I don’t think it’s reasonable to expect the average gamer to write a fucking novel about their characters like I do, but I love that D&D makes it possible if they want to. D&D is all about engaging your imagination and encouraging you and your friends to build a world and tell a story together. Because I knew exactly where Aeofel came from and why he sought out Acquisitions Incorporated, I knew how he would act in just about every circumstance. I knew why he carried the equipment he carried, why he cared about ridding the world of evil, and why those basic numbers were laid out the way they were.

Here’s a little insight into how I designed him, and why:

All of these stats are at 3rd level, so there’s plenty of room for him to grow and develop as he gains experience. Depending on a whole host of different factors, we may see Aeofel develop a stronger constitution, gain deeper wisdom from his travels, or even become more charismatic as he adjusts to life in the mortal world. As his player, I have some idea of where I’d like him to go, but I prefer to let his actions (via the choices I make during the campaign) shape his destiny. It’s important to me that there is a logic to how he grows, so that he remains a “he” who I genuinely care about, instead of an “it” that’s just a collection of numbers.

It's easy to create a character these days, and much faster than it was when I was a kid, but if you have some time and your imagination is willing, grab some paper and dice, sit on the floor surrounded by your PHB, DMG, and Adventurer's Vault, and take some time to get to know your character while you're creating him or her. Speaking from personal experience, it's well worth the investment.

It was just Wil Wheaton’s imagination, running away with him.

America may, in the very near future, be harboring a war criminal from justice. His name is George W. Bush. Maybe a few war criminals, in fact. Dick Cheney, Condoleezza Rice, Donald Rumsfeld and a few others. They sort of decided that if people weren’t wearing uniforms, they could be tortured and... more

America may, in the very near future, be harboring a war criminal from justice. His name is George W. Bush. Maybe a few war criminals, in fact. Dick Cheney, Condoleezza Rice, Donald Rumsfeld and a few others. They sort of decided that if people weren’t wearing uniforms, they could be tortured and other exciting stuff. Because of what they were wearing. You know, their clothes. It’s a fabric defense. Good luck defending that genius idea in a world court.

At some point, Bush will certainly be indicted.

Sure. We all know we tortured people and that many of them were probably innocent. The world doesn’t usually go for this sort of thing. The only way to possibly avoid an ugly black mark is if we take care of our own business, but that’s not going to happen because some Democrats in Congress were aware of and approved of the torture. So, it will come down to a world court, in which an ex-president of the United States will be accused and indicted for war crimes. Hold your heads high, Americans.

A trial will probably never occur, because the US doesn’t recognize the court at The Hague and would definitely block the UN Security Council from issuing an order. Also, we would never give him up. So, that will be good. We will then live in limbo until Bush dies. Many people across the world will want Bush and Rumsfeld brought to justice, but no such thing will occur. How's this for a future headline?

Sounds good, doesn't it? Totally warms my heart. America will be a country harboring fugitives for many years. There will be no getting over it, no getting past it, because there will be no resolution. It will be an awesome shame we will all live with everyday, that we can pile on top of our current heap, which includes The Jonas Brothers, Baywatch, that Hiroshima thing, the Shah of Iran and Mama’s Family.

As the years go by, we will learn more and more about the horrible, illegal acts committed by Bush and company. The evidence will mount. The disturbing truth will slowly be revealed and we will circle our wagons around the guy nobody seems to like, because he’s our guy we don’t like. You can’t not like the guy we don’t like. Back the fuck off.

He will remain with us and become our great shame until his death. He will be like a tumor, slowly eating away, but never killing us. We could cut the tumor out. I would actually prefer to remove it with a shotgun, but we won’t because we are weak. And we don’t really believe in the law and human rights, as we pretend to do. We believe in politics and not rocking the boat to avoid “the other party” from taking over. Meanwhile, this will eat at us every single day. Seriously, why don’t you let a wanted pedophile stay in your basement and see how it makes you feel? Bush tortured many people, and if a number of reports are to be believed, many died during torture. I’m pretty sure that’s a bad thing.

Bush is a criminal and we should allow whatever evidence is out there to be presented in a court of law. If we don’t, we can’t say shit about guys like Omar al-Bashir of Sudan. We are also going to spend a couple of decades feeling like total dirtbags.

So, that will be nice.


FearTheReaper is a writer, actor and stand up comedian. Check back each Tuesday and Friday for more from FearTheReaper

Despite crashing and burning in a cloud of youthful excess at a point when they'd barely begun, Thomas Anselmi's first band of note, Slow, left an indelible mark on the Canadian music scene. The punk rock band are still considered to be one of Canada's all time greats, nearly a quarter century... more

Despite crashing and burning in a cloud of youthful excess at a point when they'd barely begun, Thomas Anselmi's first band of note, Slow, left an indelible mark on the Canadian music scene. The punk rock band are still considered to be one of Canada's all time greats, nearly a quarter century on from their all-to-brief heyday.

An infamous riot after a truncated gig at Vancouver's Expo '86 festival dealt the final blow to Slow. Anselmi regrouped with guitarist Christian Thorviston, forming alt rock band Copyright out of the carcass of Slow. For a while Copyright's future looking promising, but their much-vaunted six-figure deal with Geffen soon soured, and a subsequent sideways move to BMG failed to reinvigorate their fortunes.

After the demise of Copyright, Anselmi spent time in Berlin before settling in Los Angeles. Taking absolute control of his destiny this time, Anselmi self-funded his next project, Mirror. He spent three years assembling Mirror's self titled (and self-released) debut album, working in tandem on a multi-media live show to fully realize his vision for the project.

The album was produced by former Grapes of Wrath band member Vincent Jones, a fellow Canadian musician whose résumé as a hired gun includes albums by Dave Gahan, Sarah McLachlan and Morrisey. Anselmi was able to capitalize on Jones' impressive connections, securing a stunning performance from the Depeche Mode singer for Mirror's lead track. While such cameo appearances can often distract, Gahan's haunting performance on "Nostalgia" adds to, as opposed to detracting from, the whole -- Mirror's music being an atmospheric homage to a future now past.

Nicole PowersThis album is very different from the music you made in your punk rock days. How does one make the leap from what you were doing with Slow to Mirror? Musically there's quite a chasm there.

Thomas Anselmi: I guess just a few years ago I became a lot more interested in exploring music that was more familiar, and to create more of a dramatic, or a staging context, rather than it being a complete expression unto itself. I wanted to take music and use it more in quotations. I think that punk rock, and rock & roll in general, is very expressive, it's expressive of the person, it's sincere right? It's like a direct expression, and Mirror's not really that. These songs are more the soundtrack and part of an overall experience. They use familiar melodies in a way that manifests that experience -- to help that experience. It's really part of the whole show -- and that whole experience is a lot more punk rock.

NP: You talk about familiar, but in what way do you mean that? Do you mean there are melodic elements that can become familiar, or are you borrowing refrains from places that subliminally might be familiar?

TA: I think it's not so much that anything was consciously borrowed, or stolen, not so much that. It's just that specifically, as a songwriter, I've spent a lot of time in my music career trying to be innovative. And one thing that stuck me was watching the way [David] Lynch would use music in films; Rather than being innovative, the music was used in a way that was familiar. In other words, anything that sounded kind of challenging melodically, I got rid of. I made everything in a way like a lullaby.

NP: So in a way it's like the anti-punk record.

TA: In a certain way it's an anti-punk record, as such, but as part of the whole, the whole is not that. The whole is pretty taxing.

NP: It's a very expansive sounding album, a total soundscape which is orchestral in parts. You wrote the songs prior to creating the sound with producer Vincent Jones. What were you writing the songs on?

TA: I've written a lot of songs in the past where you write a part on piano or on guitar, most of this stuff came directly from the same melody, and was orchestrated around that. I would figure out what the chords were. I definitely wanted the album to sound very broken, like something far away, like almost the sound of something in the past, like the memory of a song you heard on the radio or something.

NP: Given that brief, how did Vincent fulfill that?

TA: He really understood it right away. Even before Dave [Gahan] sang "Nostalgia" we were talking about it, and I was trying to describe that feeling to him, and he said something like, "It's as if that future that we were promised around the Second World War, the dream of that future that never really happened." For instance something like synthesizers, you know, they sound so futuristic, but because of the way that, if you've been a music fan for a long time, synthesizers have also started to sound retro. They sound like the past as well. So it's this dream of the future that appeared in the past.

NP: How did the collaboration with Dave Gahan come about?

TA: Vincent played with Dave, and he sent Dave what we were doing and Dave really liked it, and we asked him to sing it. I really wanted something special for that song. I can sing that song, and it was kind of a natural song for me to sing, but, with me singing it, it didn't have that extra dimension that I was looking for. Of course Dave brought something I couldn't have been looking for. He has such an incredible style, but also there's the other part of it; it added something because of his history, and the fact that he is that to so many people, that a lot of people have so many memories that they attach to music that he's sung.

NP: That's the thing, it add a whole other ironic level. Did Dave appreciate the irony of it -- the Brits are big on irony.

TA: I never discussed that. But I think that the video made that a little bit clearer, that extra element to the song.

NP: The video is beautiful.

TA: Really? Thank you. I'm really proud of that. It took a hell of a lot of work. We really worked on that a long time.

NP: I heard that Dave was so cool, he even paid his own air fare to record the track.

TA: Yeah. Amazing! What a guy!

NP: I'm presuming the video was shot at a later date, how did that happen?

TA: Same way. We asked him, and, amazingly, he said yes. I just couldn't believe it -- that he said yes. I had an idea that I wanted to use in the show and in the video, because in the show we use a lot of video. I wanted to really make apparent that other element -- that we were just talking about with the song -- to lay bare the subtext of the song. Honestly, he just completely trusted us. We shot the whole thing green screen, my brother, Sean Starke, directed his performance.

NP: Where was that done?

TA: It was done in New York. And then I started just making video collages. Then we had the good fortune that a friend of a friend, Dane Smith, who is a producer of visual effects, his company worked on it, and they took those crude a approximations I was doing and keyed it in properly and made it look all beautiful.

NP: It is like a moving oil painting.

TA: That's very sweet. What you just said was exactly what I was trying to do with the collages, was to make it like an oil painting, so that's great.

NP: You talk about how the music grew out of a live show, but I understand you've only had about five performances. Are you going to be doing more live shows?

TA: Oh yeah. We're just putting together something right now. We're going to be in L.A. in the not too distant future, but we're just trying to figure that out. We've actually done quite a few more than five shows, but it's just that we do smaller things and bigger things. It's always this compromise between doing something that is either a small installation in an art gallery or a performance in a nightclub, verses taking a warehouse and decking it out, and making it what we'd really like to do, making it this immersive complete experience.

NP: You've been selling downloads of the album directly via your website, and I read in an interview that you made more in the first ten days of download sales than you did in your whole career with the major labels.

TA: But that doesn't account for what needs to be paid back, because you have to remember major labels paid for the whole record.

NP: But because you can self-finance records these days, because the production costs are so much cheaper, are the major labels almost an irrelevance now?

TA: I think that the game is changing, and that's very, very exciting. I think that you always need ideas, they're in very short supply, and I think that the fact that there's a lot more people putting stuff out there, in a way, it's become difficult to differentiate. Like what the hell is going on? There's so much stuff now.

I think major labels, obviously they missed a lot of stuff. In their twilight years they became very, very cautious and conservative. But I think there was a time, in the 70s and 80s perhaps and maybe even a little into the 90s but I don't think much, where major labels were actually nurturing artists -- it wasn't sink or swim immediately -- you had a bit of a window to develop.

NP: Did you ever feel nurtured by a major label?

TA: I never did you know. I was on Geffen and I was on BMG, and I was talking to this executive from Geffen, and he was just saying basically, when we were first signed to Geffen, we put out a couple of indie records before that, that was the shift, it was right at that point. And I guess a lot of other things happening that I wasn't even aware of, you know radio became owned by just a few companies, also the labels became a lot more conglomerate.

NP: Also, at the major labels, for all their corporate structure, it got to be more about the egos of a few key execs.

TA: [laughs]

NP: I know at Geffen you had some spats with David that were very personal.

TA: In a lot of ways Mirror was born out of this frustration. I've never really been able to accept, ‘OK, I've just spent a year on this record, or two years or something, and now someone's just going to start creating visual accompaniments, and creating the marketing plan and all that.’ And I was thinking back to when I was getting into stuff that was before my time really, but stuff that I loved, like David Bowie, Lou Reed, that stuff, where the whole project seemed art directed from the beginning to the end. It didn't seem as though anything was tacked on by someone else. If you went to see David Bowie, the marketing, the record, and the show and his look, all of it was this one thrust, and that's exciting, and I think that's what people have an opportunity to do right now, to control all that. That's exciting because I think that it's been a long time since people really had that experience of someone with that vision trying to tackle all that stuff.

NP: Control is very important to an artist, and going back to the end of Slow, it was very much out of your control, and very traumatic. What were the most vivid memories of that time?

TA: Honestly, the last record that I made with Copyright, we were signed to BMG, and I remember we were starting to make this record. I thought it was going to be the best record we'd ever made, you know, and the label, all of sudden I could see very clearly because I was an adult now, really the fear that was going on, with people just wanting to keep their jobs and all of that. If we didn't make a record that was going to be played on modern rock radio, then that was going to be a danger to somebody's livelihood, and everyone was pushing for the same thing. I just started to realize, I don't want that. I don't want to be responsible for that. I don't want to be on modern rock radio. I don't care about any of that. It doesn't make any fucking difference to me. Then I could see that what I had suspected the whole time, that if you take that money, you have to be willing to see it through.

NP: Well you certainly seem to have successfully stepped outside of the machine, and made it work for you.

TA: Yeah, it's pretty exiting. I get up in the morning and I'm happy to do what I'm doing, and that's the best -- the best, you know.



Above: "Nostalgia" by Mirror feat. Dave Gahan.

The Mirror album is available via Mirror.fm

In the late 60s I began to write for the LA Free Press. One of their writers, an underground icon who was still unknown to the mainstream at that time, was Charles Bukowski. This story recounts the time I decided to stop by his house. I'm not quite sure what I was expecting, but with Bukowski you... more

In the late 60s I began to write for the LA Free Press. One of their writers, an underground icon who was still unknown to the mainstream at that time, was Charles Bukowski. This story recounts the time I decided to stop by his house.

I'm not quite sure what I was expecting, but with Bukowski you can guess it turned out to be quite a night. We went on to become regular friends and drinking buddies until heroin addiction took me out of the world of human affairs for a number of years. When I finally came to one day, I was living in Rio de Janeiro and Bukowski was a dead legend.

This piece, which I'd like to share with you today –– on the anniversary of Charles Bukowski's death –– is an excerpt from my upcoming memoir, Scabvendor: Confessions of A Tattoo Artist.

–– Jonathan Shaw




Remembering Buk Part 3
By Jonathan Shaw

Stubby fingers pound away at an old Royal typewriter. Classical music is playing from a radio on a kitchen counter next to an empty whiskey bottle...Bukowski is sitting at a cramped breakfast nook by a window in his kitchen, wearing a wife-beater and boxer shorts, writing. He moves his head in a strange rhythm to the music, like a prizefighter, bobbing and weaving in a motion so subtle, only the benevolent spirits of his poetry respond...

He stops typing just long enough to fish a half-smoked cigar out of an overflowing ashtray, surrounded by a dozen empty Miller beer bottles. He shoves the cigar stub into his battered, junkyard face, lights it, and resumes his work. He hears a timid knock on the living room door...

"Go'waaay!" he shouts automatically, as he types on.

Several short raps on the window beside him get his attention.

"Who arrre yaaaa, whaddya waaant?" he growls.

"Hey, I'm sorry to bother ya," I say. "I write for the Free Press..."

Bukowski mumbles distractedly.

Standing on the dirty concrete porch, I talk to the window, playing my last card, "I got some beer..."

Bukowski starts to say something, then stops, editing himself. He surveys the empty beer bottles standing like little ghosts around his typewriter. Finally he speaks, in a weary, W.C. Fields-like drawl.

"Yeahh, alriiight... just hold onnnaa minnit." He pounds out a last line and stops. He grabs a dirty kitchen towel off the counter, throws it over his work, and gets up. The big man steps into a pair of ratty slippers and walks, slouching, across the little living room to the door.

I'm standing on the porch, looking down at the cement...hallowed ground. No welcome mat. Shivering nervously, shifting my weight from foot to foot, holding the heavy case of beer. It feels cold in my hands in the summer air that smells of cat piss and night-blooming jasmine. I hear classical music playing behind Bukowski's window. A baby cries and a television blares from apartments across the courtyard. A gunshot pops off in the distance...Awkward as a schoolboy on a blind date, I stand by the dirty screen door and wait...

Suddenly, the door opens and Bukowski's big, battered face is there before me. I'm standing in the presence of Genius...and it looks like it's about to knock me flat on my ass.

Without ceremony, Bukowski reaches into the cardboard box I'm holding like a temple offering. He casually extracts a can of beer and cracks it open. Without giving me another look, he turns and disappears into the little bungalow. My eyes scan the cement porch, my brown leather boots, the cuffs of my dirty jeans...

"Jeee-sus, kid, ya just gonna staaaand out there? Bring it in-siiiide," he drawls from the darkened room.

I step over the threshold.

Later, I'm sitting around a cheap coffee table covered with empty cans. An empty pint bottle of whiskey sits on Bukowski's end like a captured Queen in a chess match. A pile of my poetry sits out on the table between us. I reach into the empty cardboard box and crack open the last can of beer.

"Heeey, giii-me thaat", Bukowski protests. I ignore him, drinking the beer.

"Soooo, yer a wriiiiiter, haaah?" he says finally.

I pass the half-finished can over. Bukowski takes it and guzzles it down.

He burps.

"Weeeelll", he says, looking drunk and rather nasty now. "If yer a wriiiter, what ya do is ya wriiiite, get it? What ya don't do is sit aroooouund taaalking abooouuut wriiiting with other guys who wriiiite. You wriiiite. And then, ya wriiiite some moooore. That's it, baby. But... if ya got nothing to saaaaay, then youre just another bum with a ten dollar typer, with alotta taaaalk, and shit for braaiiins...And, to be brutally honest, Jono, yoooou impress me as a self-conscious punk who needs to do some liiiiiving..."

"Who you callin' a punk? Ya old fart...," I hear myself say, instantly regretting it. Too late...

"YOU! YA LITTLE CUNT LICKIN, FISH LIPPED MOMMA'S BOY. PUNK. PUNK. PUUUUUNNNNK!!!"

"Motherfucker," I yell, rising to my feet, fast, knocking beer cans off the table.

"Yeeeaahhh, I fucked your mother. And I'll fuck you too, fish fucker," Bukowski taunts, coming at me like a train.

Drunk and crazed, I take a swing at him and feel my fist connect with the rough, bearded skin of his face. Not phased, Bukowski clobbers me in the ear. I see stars. Now it's two of us, drunken poets, trading drunken blows. I taste blood in my mouth and keep hitting him, but Bukowski is getting the best of me, pounding away with those big, red, ugly mitts.

I crouch low, defending my face, and try to head butt him in the gut, but he grabs me like a bear, and we both wrestle to the floor, toppling over the coffee table which cracks and splinters. I'm rolling round on the dirty wall-to-wall carpet in a spinning chaos of beer cans, pages of poetry flying, pissed and gasping like some savage, lumbering beast of old, an ugly, deformed, drunken puppet, breaking everything in it's terrible path...

Finally, breathing hard, bloody and sweating we both stop, laughing hysterically...

"Geeeeez, kid," he says finally, "Ya fiiiight just liiike a giiiirl I useta fuck in a toiiii-let..."

"Was that before, or after she shit in yer mouth?" I snap back.

"Shit, I shiiiit bigger than you... Look at my beautiful cofffeeeee taaa-ble. You oooowe me for that, ya little shit..."

We end the night sitting on the floor, drinking, trading insults, reading poetry, and toasting to each other's speedy demise as the sun rises, emerging like a punch-drunk sea monster over the smoggy purgatory of Bukowski's doomed Los Angeles...



(c) Jonathan Shaw 2009.

Jonathan Shaw began writing as a contributor for the LA Free Press in the late 60s. In the early 70s, he trained as a tattoo artist in Long Beach under the legendary Bob Shaw. He opened his own joint, Fun City Tattoo, in 1976 in New York's East Village. After traveling the world extensively as a tattoo artist and managing editor of tattoo magazines, he retired from tattooing in 2001, moving to Rio De Janeiro to begin his next chapter as a full time writer. His first book, Narcisa: Our Lady of Ashes, is available from Amazon.com. To read more of Jonathan's writing check his blog at ScabVendor.com. You can also follow Jonathan on Twitter @jsfuncity.

Click HERE and HERE for more of SG's intermittent series, "Remembering Buk."

Soilwork are one of the originators of the Swedish melodic death metal sub-genre. The band formed in '95 in Helsingborg, a rigorous international touring schedule being the route to their global success. But life on the road took its toll, and a decade on, much to the disappointment of fans, songwriter... more

Soilwork are one of the originators of the Swedish melodic death metal sub-genre. The band formed in '95 in Helsingborg, a rigorous international touring schedule being the route to their global success. But life on the road took its toll, and a decade on, much to the disappointment of fans, songwriter and lead guitarist Peter Wichers announced his departure from the band. Soilwork continued to toil, touring and recording sans Winchers, but the chemistry wasn't the same. Then in September 2008, Soilwork surprised fans with the news that Wichers would return to reprise his previous role.

SG caught up with Wichers, while he was in Florida with the band, who are embarking on a major North American tour, their first since Wichers reunited with his bandmates. We discuss his reasons for leaving –– and returning –– and find out what he did in the intervening years.

Holly Breckenfeld: What you have been doing for the past three years?

Peter Wichers: After I left Soilwork, I worked for a lot of up and coming bands in the U.S., and I also helped out Adam B with the All That Remains record. I helped him track some guitars for it. I also got offered the gig to do the Nuclear Blast 20th anniversary record. They did two of them and I was the one who did the more extreme one. I kind of tailored ten songs to fit ten different singers. I wrote, produced and recorded the whole thing and then I mixed it in Sweden. After that one, I helped write Warren Dale's (Nevermore) solo record The Burden of Duplicity, which actually was something that we talked about doing, before I quit Soilwork. I started writing for the album about a year before I quit Soilwork. Other than that, just tried to keep busy working with local bands. That's kind of where I'm at right now.

HB: Do you have any plans to do more producing in the near future?

PW: Absolutely! I'm actually working on a band right now on this tour. I brought my rig with me, so I'm going to continue doing production even though I'm on the road and in-between tours. I love being in the studio. I don't have anything planned as we come home because we are going to start writing very shortly after that. I'm going to put a lot of my focus into that.

HB: Will you be producing the next Soilwork album?

PW: It's definitely a possibility. We've spoken about it. I guess it's kind of early to say at this point, whether or not it's going to happen. It will be announced on the website (www.soilwork.org) momentarily.

HB: What were your reasons for leaving Soilwork?

PW: I was completely fried from touring. It was just way to much for me to handle. It was nine months of touring and they ended up doing five more months after I left. That was it for me. I kind of needed a break. I just wasn't cut out for that much touring.

When we started talking about me coming back, me and Bjorn [Soilwork's vocalist] were writing stuff on the side for a side project and they had a line-up change and after that, they extended an invite to come back. I thought about it, and I said I wouldn't want to do the same kind of touring as before, and everyone was kind of on the same page. Knowing that, and just the way that Soilwork is going to be run now, coming back is definitely a different story now than it was before. Everyone is a little older and a lot of the guys have families back at home so, obviously everyone doesn't want to be on the road all of the time.

I missed being onstage and the guys. I think that we still have a lot of creativity to write another phenomenal record. Also, my wife is very supportive of me coming back. She said, I think it's a shame that you should be cooped up in the studio all of the time, when you like to perform. Having my wife as a support, it was a pretty easy decision. Even though touring is always hard no matter how little or much you do it. I'm glad to be out here, we're having a good time and everyone is getting along perfectly

HB: Soilwork has had quite a few line-up changes, since you first formed in '95. How do you feel about the current lineup?

PW: This line up seems to be the most solid that it's ever been. I told the guys, "There can't be any more lineup changes." It already kind of looks like a soap opera right now, so this will be the final lineup. It's important for people to know that.

HB: So you've just kicked off you North-American tour...

PW: Yeah! I'm actually on the bus right now trying to get everything prepared for the stage, so that's why you might hear engine noise in the background.

HB: So, are you excited to be back onstage?

PW: Yeah, absolutely! We started up in Rochester, NY and played Detroit after that. It was pretty miserable actually. I mean, the kids were awesome but the weather was just so freaking cold! It was right when they had that major snowstorm. So, it's kind of nice to be in Florida right now and heat up a little bit before we head back up north to Canada, where it's one degree Fahrenheit right now.

HB: Do you have any pre-show rituals you do before each show?

PW: Well, we kind of started getting into the groove of going to the gym here on this tour, which is a nice change from previous tours. We are trying to time that right after we do sound check and before we go onstage. Because there's a lack of showers in the U.S. so, we like to go and lift some weights and then have a hot shower everyday.

HB: Well, that's good. Showering is definitely good!

PW: Oh definitely.

HB: You didn't play on Soilwork's last album, Sworn to a Great Divide. I know you get this question a lot so, I'm not going to ask you what you thought of the album, but does Soilwork want to continue to go in that same direction musically with the next album?

PW: We talked about maybe taking a little bit of a different approach for the next record. Having me and Sylvain (lead/rhythm guitar) back in the band, I think that we're probably going to try to do stuff that might be a little more technical. We want to keep the element of the catchy chorus but at the same time maybe have bit more guitar solos than on Sworn to a Great Divide and also let Dirk (drums) get more space on the record for drumming. That was one of the things I think that Sworn to a Great Divide was lacking a little bit. It's a good record but I think that with such talented musicians the next album definitely needs to have more performance.

HB: What influenced you to pick up guitar and what got you into metal specifically?

PW: I was forced at a very early age to take classical guitar on nylon and that was the end of me because I hated it and my parents had to chase me around town to force me to go to lessons. So, I lost interest in guitar for a while and then I wanted to play electric guitar. I picked that up when I was about 15. At that time it was Metallica and Guns 'n' Roses. I think the thing that really made me interested in metal was when I first heard Pantera's Cowboys from Hell. That was it. I was completely sold. That is the very reason why I chose to go on the path of writing metal.

HB: That's a great album!

PW: Yeah! It is great!

HB: What are some of your favorite metal bands now? And also some of your favorite non-metal bands?

PW: My favorite metal band right now would be Opeth. I think there last album Watershed is a masterpiece. I don't possibly see how they can top that record for the next time. But it doesn't matter because that album is absolutely fantastic. I think it has so many different elements of music. It sounds crazy to say, but it's kind of "intelligent death metal" in my opinion because it's such a dynamic sound that I have never heard anyone else do.

HB: I definitely agree.

PW: So, non-metal albums huh? I don't know. I listen to a lot of different stuff. I actually like a lot of guitar music like Tony Rice, and Gary Douglas, a great dobro player. There is an insanely good dobro player from Nashville called Andy Hall I really like. I actually recently got into Stevie Ray Vaughan. I know that's kind of embarrassing to say that I just got into him, but I never really gave him a chance before. I really think that he is amazing. I recently bought some records of his and I'm really getting into them. It's not the most complicated stuff to play on guitar, but he just plays it with such convincing feeling and power. He was incredible and it was a big loss for the guitar world. He was a great singer too.

HB: So, since this interview's for SuicideGirls, tell me about your first -- and I believe only -- tattoo.

PW: Yeah. Well, Soilwork in the past a lot of tattoo artists come out on the tour and everyone had always bugged me, "Why don't I get a tattoo?" So, I kind of got sick of it because I didn't really want one. I was kind of that guy who always found something I thought was really cool, so I would put it on my refrigerator door and if I didn't like it in a month than I probably wouldn't get it. So, finally I said, "Alright! I'll get a tattoo." So I told the tattoo guy, "I want a mole on my ass!" So that's exactly what he did. It only took about two seconds. So now, whenever anybody asks, "Do you have a tattoo?" I say, "Yeah I have a tattoo, but I probably won't show it to you."

HB: That's still my favorite tattoo story of all time!

PW: There you go. Well, I'm glad I can do that.

HB: I know you moved from Sweden to Tennessee with your wife. How long have you been living in America now?

PW: I think it's about four years now in the U.S. and I have been in Nashville for almost two years.

HB: How do you like living in America? Was it hard to adjust?

PW: Not really. We actually [moved] from L.A. and I think that Nashville had what me and my wife were looking for, that L.A. didn't. L.A. is a great place, but it's more of a single town, you know? The traffic just completely killed us! My wife spent probably three or four hours in the car everyday driving to and from work. We said that's not really a quality of life. So thinking about it in hindsight , you want to live in the area where you hang out. If you have friends in the valley you don't really go out there, and vice versa. If you live in the valley, you don't really go to West Hollywood to hang out with people. So, Nashville is a nice town. Great studios, and really friendly people.

HB: How did you and your wife meet?

PW: We met in Spain actually when she was living abroad after she graduated college. She majored in Spanish. We were passing through and she didn't know who I was and I didn't know who she was. She was friends with another band that was out there. So we met, sat down and talked for about twenty minutes and then she took off in a cab and we exchanged emails. We kept in touch and then we did our second U.S. tour and she showed up in the town where she was living at the time and everything after that is history. I fell in love with her and went home and broke up with my girlfriend of six years and have been together with my wife ever since.


HB: Moving forward, would you ever consider doing a solo album?

PW: I would love to do one, but I'm not actually sure what it would sound like and what direction I would take. Because if it sounds very metal, then I think it would kind of sound like Soilwork and if I took a different music style approach, I would want to find someone I could write together with. I wouldn't say that it's in the works. I definitely have thought about it and it's not an impossibility, I just don't know when I would do it.

HB: What do you see and hope for with regards to the future of Soilwork?

PW: After this tour is over, everyone is going to go back home and we're going to start writing the next record. I am very positive that we are going to write the best record to date. That is a very bold statement, but I believe we can do that. It's going to be fun to start bouncing ideas. It's really hard to say when we are going to hit the studio, but I'm thinking that it might be sometime later this year, or the beginning of next year. Because we are really going to take our time and try to really analyze all of the songs and make sure that every song is perfect for us.



Soilwork are currently on tour. Check Soilwork.org for further info.

SuicideGirls love to get knitted, rock & rolling with ripping yarns that add color and flair. Those that take to the needle can express the punk rock DIY ethic with easily affordable, one-of-a-kind designs, that are as fun to create as they are to wear. (image) (image) (image) (image) (image) (image)... more

SuicideGirls love to get knitted, rock & rolling with ripping yarns that add color and flair. Those that take to the needle can express the punk rock DIY ethic with easily affordable, one-of-a-kind designs, that are as fun to create as they are to wear.

























Fashion Notes
KnitzAndFeltz offers handmade scarves knitted in eco-friendly bamboo blend yarn. There's a range of styles, but we like this long and skinny, open knit one, which is finished off with a 5" fringe at each end ($25 from Etsy.com). * Fair Indigo sell fair trade fashions for men, women and children. We like their handknit popcorn hat, made from 100% merino wool ($34 from FairIndigo.com). * Those with a DIY aesthetic will love these striped, punk rock corset gloves. You'll find the pattern, detailed instructions and 'how to' videos at TheRunningYarn.com. * And for the ultimate punk rock knitted accessory, head over to Knit-Head.com. They sell handcrafted Mowhawk hats, which can be custom ordered in a variety of styles and colors -- we like the subtle all black Punk Is Not Dead and the outrageous red, white and blue, God Save The Queen versions. * Those who don't have $110-$175 to invest in a head gear right now might want to take a look at Knit-Head's Pretty in Punk book. It features 25 projects for needle lovers inspired by the designs of Vivienne Westwood and John Galliano, and is available in paperback ($13.57 from Amazon.com).

Did we miss your favorite woolly shot? If so, upload it to our Woolly Remix Album HERE (the girls are also name-checked at this link).

Check back every other Saturday for more Dirty Laundry and let SuicideGirls show you the best way to (un)dress.

Manny Ramirez can get back to being an intermittently-entertaining nutcase now that he finally signed that fucking contract. The all-world slugger/all-universe flake is staying with the Los Angeles Dodgers after he nearly haggled his way out of $45 million for two measly seasons. Most people would regret... more

Manny Ramirez can get back to being an intermittently-entertaining nutcase now that he finally signed that fucking contract. The all-world slugger/all-universe flake is staying with the Los Angeles Dodgers after he nearly haggled his way out of $45 million for two measly seasons. Most people would regret possibly losing a shot at $4.50 these days, but reality's standards have never applied to this baseballer, who is either a careless free spirit or a detestable weirdo jackass -- it's your call.

What's indisputable is that Ramirez is the equivalent of a slightly less productive and much less drunk Babe Ruth. He may be the only member of the 500-home run club who is both 1) untainted by accusations of steroid consumption and 2) not in the AARP or Baseball Heaven. Ramirez doesn't just swing for fences, either, as he owns a fantastic career .314 average; he hits the ball both frequently and far.

It's that sublime aptitude that has allowed him to get away with being a character that borders on brattiness. His eccentricities have spawned the nauseatingly familiar phrase "Manny being Manny," an expression as irritatingly clichéd to sports fans as "Deal or no deal?" is to everyone else. The contrast between his tremendous abilities and weirdness was most prominent when he played for the Red Sox: Boston fans who grew weary of his harebrained tendencies will nonetheless adore him eternally for helping the franchise win two World Series in four seasons. They hated someone they also loved; it's as if the fans and player were married.

While he helped bring titles to a squad that last triumphed during Charlemagne's reign, he also frequently acted foolish for the same reason that a dog will lick its balls -- because he can. For one, Ramirez faced allegations about loafing his way out of Boston; unhappy for whatever reason, he supposedly made an effort to make a lack of effort. Specifically, observers accused him of not running out ground balls, becoming so thoroughly unproductive in the process that the team was forced to trade him. Not trying hard enough is the one thing all sports followers consider unforgivable, as games are worthless without the integrity of effort. Pout if you want, but play hard, ya bastard.

It's both unfortunate and unsurprising that he was also once spotted in a bar during a stretch when he was missing games with a sore throat; the sort of medicine to which he would have access to in a tavern doesn't really cure anything. As for more active unruliness, there was the moment last June when he slapped then-teammate Kevin Youkilis in the dugout. He should have at least had the sense to engage in face-smacking in the privacy of the locker room so as to avoid having his "Rick James, bitch" moment caught on camera.

Accosting a fellow employee is best done in private, a lesson he applied later that month, when he shoved the team's traveling secretary during a dispute over a request for free tickets. Couldn't he just have asked nicely -- of paid for more seats? Then there was the incident last season where he high-fived a fan in the outfield stands after making a catch; it was a moment that induced grins among even somberly hardcore baseball purists. The fact he then doubled off a runner didn't hurt, either, as Manny characteristically followed foolishness with a phenomenal athletic feat.

Ramirez is also known as much for how he looks as how he plays, as his lengthy, borderline unruly dreadlocks are part of his charm. Imagining him without them would be like seeing John Shaft without the moustache.

That's why news about his excruciatingly slow contract talks seemed especially dreadful: Ramirez seems like the most un-businesslike human being imaginable. The tedious drama as reported by the even more tedious sports news networks, would feature an update each day about how there was no update that day. Even more frustrating is that nothing changed despite all the bargaining: he ended up pretty much accepting the same offer the Dodgers made ages ago. His agent wanted him to get all his money immediately, while the team wanted to defer some payments for a few years; the team won, if paying $25 million over time for him this season and $20 million for a player-option year in 2010 can be considered a victory.

There's nothing worse than a rich asshole agent and an unfathomably wealthy sporting club bitching about stipulations for a ludicrously prosperous outfielder. All parties should've inked the agreement weeks ago. But signing immediately would have made sense, and that wouldn't conform with Manny's odd take on existence. The question has always been how many of his quirks fans should embrace. Is he an entirely colorful individual who stands out in a bland world of corporate sporting automatons? Or just a flaky ditz who lucked-out by being born with ungodly talent? Yes, and...yes. At least now all is agreed, Manny can get back to goofing effortlessly toward baseball immortality.



Anthony Bialy is SG's no-jocks-required Sweaty Pursuits sports columnist. He follows sports religiously even though he's quite bad at them. He ran cross country and played rugby in college, and was horrid at both. He schedules his life around his favorite NHL team's games, and sadly lists his alma mater winning the NCAA basketball championship as his happiest moment. He likes other things besides sports, too, and requests a minute to think of them.