Egads, my regards to the good Dr. Roberts. I'm sure its been fifteen years since I've seen him. In fact I think the last time I saw him was at an Altogether Morris or Doug Feaver gig in Hamilton the night before he left to go to teacher's college at U of Western Ont.

my latest book review for the paper......sorry about the length.


Vernon God Little
By DBC Pierre
Published by Faber and Faber
Price:

By Kevin Wood
Daily Yomiuri Staff Writer
Acid-tongued author Dorothy Parker once remarked, “If you can’t say anything nice, come sit down next to me."
Judging by the delightfully dark and vicious satire of Vernon God Little, author DBC Pierre ought to pull up a chair.
“Dirty But Clean” Pierre is the pen name of Australian-born British novice author Peter Findlay, who reportedly grew up in Mexico and now lives in Ireland. How much first-hand experience Findlay has had with small town America is an open question, but in Vernon God Little he shows us the face of Martirio, Texas, highlighting every scar, wart, pimple and wrinkle in a way it hasn’t been done since Sherwood Anderson’s Winesburg, Ohio.
Vernon God Little – A 21st Century Comedy in the Presence of Death was a hit with critics in Britain, but the book has not been published in the United States and given the subject matter, it isn’t likely to see print there any time soon.
The book is a darkly comic account of the aftermath of a Columbine-style massacre at a small town high school, told in fluent profanity by Vernon G. Little. The G stands for Gregory, but also for Genius, God, Gonad, Gucci, Godzilla—an ever-changing middle name that is one of several running jokes in the novel.
Vernon, 15, was spared in the massacre by the need to move his bowels while running an errand for his teacher. When he returns to the school, his best friend, long the target of his classmates’ homophobic and racist abuse, is dead by his own hand, having first gunned down his entire class. As the only survivor, Vernon is sure he is about to become the town’s “skate-goat” and the novel opens with him being interrogated by an a swinish and sadistic barbecue-eating sheriff’s deputy who is convinced there must have been a second gunman.
“When the rubbing of her thighs has faded, I crane my nostrils for any vague comfort; a whiff of warm toast, a spearmint breath. But all I whiff, over the sweat and the barbecue sauce, is school—the kind of pulse bullyboys give off when they spot a quiet one, a wordsmith, in a corner. The scent of lumber being cut for a f----- cross.”
As the media descends en masse on the “barbecue sauce capital of America” and the minions of the law get closer to a misleading, but nonetheless damning piece of evidence, Vernon is too embarrassed to reveal his fecal alibi. His mother seems more concerned with materialistic one-upmanship, sleeping with a sleazy reporter and “trolling the town for sympathy” than doing anything to help her son, though she does reassure him in front of the police and press that “Even murderers are loved by their families, you know.” Vernon decides to head for Mexico, only to have every murder in the state tacked onto the list of crimes he’s now wanted for.
Vernon’s eventual capture, trial and incarceration on a death row that has been turned into a “reality TV” series in which viewers vote on which inmate should be executed next, ends happily -- as all comedies should, with Vernon's returns to his small-town life in a world more Jerry Springer than Norman Rockwell.
The cast of characters are named with a flair worthy of Thomas Pynchon: Sheriff Porkorney and his deputy Vaine Gurie, housewife Leona Dunt, journalistic poseur Eulalio ‘Lally’ Ledesma, sensitive teacher Marion Knuckles, high school redneck Lothar ‘Lard-Ass’ Larbey.
The author has managed to capture the profanity-laden vernacular of 15-year-old boys to perfection and voice of Vernon is absolutely authentic. Vernon’s near-miss cultural references to “Princess Debbie, or whoever the princess was who died” and “Ricardo Moltenbomb, or whoever Mom’s favorite was who had the dwarf on Fantasy Island” provide a comic counterpoint of innocence to the to petty maneuverings of the likes of Leona Dunt, an “almost pretty blonde with a honeysuckle voice you know got its polish from rubbing on her last husband’s wallet” who “only shows up when she has at least two things to brag about.”
It would be a mistake to write the book off as simply another tasteless swipe at pop culture. Many doubtless have been offended by the notion of a humorous take on something as horrific as the Colombine massacre and Vernon God Little is a merciless, nasty and at times intentionally offensive piece of work. However, it is also screamingly funny, truer than any of the news coverage of similar events and written with exceptional skill. By turning the satiric razor on such a tragic event, the author manages to provide some insight into how and why such hideous incidents occur. As the collective memory of the real tragedy fades, Vernon God Little is apt to gradually acquire the status of a vulgarian Catcher in the Rye.

Working at CBC Radio, I have access to tens of thousands of CDs through the record library. (Pause) Ohgodilovethisjob. I've been revisiting some of the same things, including the legendary Dr. Sardonicus, which I still love. The Dead is a little more difficult for me these days, as are a few other things. Even better is digging out the old vinyl and playing that, because it sounds better anyway to my ears and induces less listening fatigue (a real occupational hazard in what i do for a living).
By the by, I'm playing with Compton again in Edgar Breau's band....and the guitarist from Teenage Head took my pop music history class a couple of years back. We almost collaborated on a Teenage Head history, but in the end....didn't.

Ah an excellent question from mr. Johnston. The things that stand up and the things that don't are not always what one might expect. I still love the blues stuff on the Alllman bros. Fillmore east album and I think some of the more self indulgent stuff still stands up, like 'whipping post' and mountain jam - though the later is a bit long. Oddly enough stuff I didn't think would stand up like Spirit's The Twelve Dreams of Dr. Sardonicus, a psychedelic gem, are just as great now (Animal Zoo still kicks as hard as it did when the fabulous 'winged marsupials' covered it and the rest of the disc still gets me - "You've got a smile that turns me on") Stuff that was very poppy back in the day doesn't fare quite as well - anyone listen to their Police albums lately?- and don't even get me started on the stuff I thought was crap back then that is trying to come back like Duran Duran (although I think there might be a market for a punk cover band that changes the lyrics to be all about the Kennedys and is named Sirhan, Sirhan, but that is a totally different and much more tasteless story) Elvis Costello now ranks as one of the great songwriters for me, whereas back when he was popular I had little time for him aside from his watching the detective album. Ditto the clash - I liked them back in the 80's but they were hardly a favorite. The Beatles, the Stones, Zep and Pink Floyd still stand up, as do the Dead - though I am much more interested in Jerry's acoustic bluegrass stuff these days than yet another 80's bootleg with 'touch of grey' or 'Brown eyed women'.
I'd have to say that the bands I like in high school - largely thanks to being exposed to them by Brent and Clutton and Pentilchuk and Daley and to a large degree later on by Hoffman - are still groups that stand up now. Of course most of them were no longer popular when I got turned onto them (not many Jefferson Airplane fans around my high school in 1984, except for Compton Roberts) What amazes me are the band that were around then that I had no interest in at the time, labelling them New Wave or just plain Lame that I now appreciate like Talking Heads and Elvis Costello and Dead Milkmen.

The next question is what are all of us former sixties rock fans listening to now?

So, having read this my question is: Did they serve Freedom fries to the evacuees or just a heaping helping of crow?

CDs Revisited
I'm sure that I am not alone in buying CD versions of vinyl albums that I one adored. I find this a fascinating experience - there can be as much as a ten or fifteeen year gap between the last time I listened to the vinyl and when I buy the CD. It is very surprising what stands the test of time, and what doesn't.

For example I used to love that Allman Brothers album "At Filmore East" so I bought the CD. The first few blues numbers stand up (Stormy Monday is sublime). However the rest of the album - the improvisational jazz rock bit - is over indulgent nonsense and I can't bear to listen to it.

On the other hand, one of my most prized CDs is Teenage Head's "Frantic City", which to me sounds as fresh and vibrant as the day I first heard it. A tight band, superb guitar playing, and truly original vocals from Frankie Venom...what more could you want.

My question to the Woodshed is what stands the test of time, and what doesn't?

Hamish

Check this out!
Blog Edit WBloggar( www.wbloggar.com ) is a cool
Blog editor that connects to nearly all Blog servers including
Blogger.com. Makes it easy to post when not online. Includes a spell checker too.

check the list of words not to use when writing a song according to steely dan

Notes from a texan chili tastingThe notes are from an inexperienced Chili taster named Frank, who was visiting Texas from the East Coast:
Frank: "Recently, I was honored to be selected as a judge at a chili cook-off. The original person called in sick at the last moment and I happened to be standing there at the judge's table asking for directions to the Budweiser truck, when the call came in. I was assured by the other two judges (Native Texans) that the chili wouldn't be all that spicy and, besides, they told me I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted".
Here are the scorecards from the event:
Chili # 1 Mike's Maniac Mobster Monster Chili

Judge # 1 -- A little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick.

Judge # 2 -- Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild.

Judge # 3 -- (Frank) Holy nuts
, what the hell is this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your driveway. Took me two beers to put the flames out. I hope that's the worst one. These Texans are crazy.

Chili # 2 Arthur's Afterburner Chili

Judge # 1 -- Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight jalapeno tang.

Judge # 2 -- Exciting BBQ flavor, needs more peppers to be taken seriously.

Judge # 3 -- Keep this out of the reach of children. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to rush in more beer when they saw the look on my face.

Chili # 3 Fred's Famous Burn Down the Barn Chili

Judge # 1 -- Excellent firehouse chili. Great kick. Needs more beans.

Judge # 2 -- A bean less chili, a bit salty, good use of peppers.

Judge # 3 -- Call the EPA. I've located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now. Get me more beer before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me on the back, now my backbone is in the front part of my chest. I'm getting sh it-faced from all of the beer.

Chili # 4 Bubba's Black Magic

Judge # 1 -- Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.

Judge # 2 -- Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish or other mild foods, not much of a chili.

Judge # 3 -- I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Is it possible to burn out taste buds? Sally, the barmaid, was standing behind me with fresh refills. That 300-lb. b itch is starting to look HOT...just like this nuclear waste I'm eating! Is chili an aphrodisiac?

Chili # 5 Linda's Legal Lip Remover

Judge # 1 -- Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.

Judge # 2 -- Chili using shredded beef, could use more tomato. Must admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.

Judge # 3 -- My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off my forehead and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted and four people behind me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from the pitcher. I wonder if I'm burning my lips off. It really pisses me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming. Screw those rednecks. > ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ >

Chili # 6 Vera's Very Vegetarian Variety

Judge # 1 -- Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of spices and peppers.

Judge # 2 -- The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb.

Judge # 3 -- My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous, sulfuric flames. I sh it myself when I farted and I'm worried it will eat through the chair. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except that s lut Sally. She must be kinkier than I thought. Can't feel my lips anymore. I need to wipe my @ss with a snow cone.

Chili # 7 Susan's Screaming Sensation Chili

Judge # 1 -- A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.

Judge # 2 -- Ho hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chili peppers at the last moment. I should take note that I am worried about Judge #3. He appears to be in a bit of distress as he is cursing uncontrollably.

Judge # 3 -- You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I wouldn't feel a thing. I've lost sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili, which slid unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are full of lava like nuts
to match my shirt. At least during the autopsy, they'll know what killed me. I've decided to stop breathing, its too painful. Screw it; I'm not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I'll just suck it in through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.

Chili # 8 Tommy's Toe-Nail Curling Chili

Judge # 1 -- The perfect ending, this is a nice blend chili. Not too bold but spicy enough to declare its existence.

Judge # 2 -- This final entry is a good, balance chili. Neither mild nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge # 3 passed out, fell over and pulled the chili pot down on top of himself. Not sure if he's going to make it. Poor dude, wonder how he'd have reacted to really hot chili.

Interesting that even this hidebound paragon of journalistic tepidity is weighing in on Bush's Big Lie re WMD. Will this go anywhere? What is the alt press saying?

"Hey I can see my house from up here" (on the mountaintop that is)

Much ooohing and aahing over the 360 degree view from everest, cool site Mike!

Care to join me on the mountaintop?

From our Light at the End of the Tunnel dept. comes a hint that God may exist after all: The Montreal Canadien have announced the hiring of Habs legend and front office wizard Bob Gainey as their new GM. When Gainey retired from the ice and went behind the bench with the Minnesota North Stars he took them to the Stanley Cup finals in his first year as a coach. Following that, as coach and GM he built up a team that has been an NHL power for several seasons in Dallas. His tranfer back to the Canadiens is a very, very good thing. Just wait until the year after next. Assuming there is no strike next season (a major assumption admittedly) the Habs will be a force to be reckoned with in two years as the lazy old-timer squad they have now retire and the young stars of the AHL-leading Hamilton Bulldogs graduate to the NHL team.

I will not make gratuitous Anne of Green Gables jokes, I won't I won't I won't



Typo in newspaper article links P.E.I. tourism to phone sex line



SUMMERSIDE, P.E.I. (CP) - A misprint in a U.S. newspaper article on Prince Edward Island has caused some red faces in the province's tourism industry.

A 1-888 number mentioned in a recent Boston Globe article was inadvertently changed to a 1-800 number that connects callers to a racy phone sex line.

Don Cudmore, executive director for the Tourism Association Industry of P.E.I., called the mistake "unfortunate . . . a 30-second story."

Cudmore said Wednesday he hopes the story's appeal will end soon and his industry, whose slogan is Come Play On My Island, can get back to the basics of trying to attract more visitors to the province.

Carol Horne, an official with Tourism P.E.I. in Charlottetown, said her office has received several calls and e-mails about the misprinted number.

She said the province is trying to locate the U.S. owner of the sex-line, but has had no luck so far. The government would like to purchase the number and retire it for good.

Horne admitted that purchasing the line may not fit into P.E.I.'s budget since initial research has shown it could cost up to hundreds of thousands of dollars.

(Summerside Journal-Pioneer

You can try Graeme and Kate at: anterra@kw.igs.net

btw good sir,
my cattle have taken GREAT offense at being compared to that Sheila Copps, and have plain stopped givin' milk.
c'mere bessie, c'mere girl, it's ok
he didn't mean it....

eatin' dry cereal,
earl

this note is regard'n yer flush-out-the-taliban-with-the-neked-women-trick.

i support it!!!
now i'm ready and waitin' in my lawn-chair, a cold beer in one hand, and you know WHAT in the other, thats right, my SHOTGUN!
so fars i've eyed:
- two snakes
- half a squirrel(the result of 7 cats)
- a porcupine
- a rusty, smokin' chevy truck complete with gun-rack and...
- a voracious horde of blackflies.

there are no, i repeat NO neked women walking by, DAMN!!!!
this ain't gonna work for us backwood rural types, so i'm a goin' back inside ta find my own neked woman. EMMA!!!!!

p.s. i think the guy in the truck might a been half neked

rough hugs,
earl

I have just found the greatest antiwar, antibush site
http://homepage.mac.com/leperous/PhotoAlbum1.html go there now, thank me later

Fatherhood
What can I say except that it is extremely cool....how is it going at your end Cliff? does she have you wrapped around her little finger yet? Have you slept since January?

'there's no sex and drugs for Ian, I find mandolin strings in the middle of Austin'
Actually it isn't madolin strings I need, its madolin lessons, though not necessarily for me. One of the guitar player in my band, the Voodoo Hoodoos, bought a mando this week and needs to learn some chords etc. Anyone have any advice? Anyone have Chris Scales email? How about Graeme's?

May ghod and Pierre Trudeau forgive me, I know its a serious issue and all, but when I heard they had found a mad cow in Alberta, my first thought was that it was Sheila Copps trying to drum up support for her bid for the Liberal leadership.......