Each year animator John Butler produces his own distinct Christmas image to send to friends. Rather than the traditional jolly Santa or nativity scene, John creates “a sinister festive image,” inspired by a work of classic science-fiction. This year’s image was inspired by John Carpenter’s The Thing and John has sent it to Dangerous Minds for all of us to share. Nice.
The end of 1981 likely saw highly influential British anarcho-punk band Crass both energized and exhausted after dropping their third album, the remarkably complex feminist manifesto Penis Envy.
One speculates that the idea for their final release of the year came to the band as a “eureka!” moment. Why not release a 7” novelty record made up of a department-store-style, organ-and-drum-machine medley of their anthemic and obnoxious tunes, including “Big A Little A,” “Punk is Dead,” “Big Hands,” “Contaminational Power” and others? Slap on an innocuous Santa Claus intro and obnoxious outro at the end, pop it into a sleeve with a strange and horrific collage of an Xmas-day family holiday scene by Gee Vaucher, and you’ve got an instant inside-joke punk classic on your hands.
As a horror-day bonus for you Crass-heads, here’s a wide-ranging, as-yet-spotlighted 2007 interview from pancrack.tv with your man, drummer Penny Rimbaud…
Westboro Baptist Church would be dangerous if they weren’t so fucking insane. In this sick little ditty sung to the tune of “Santa Claus Is Coming To Town,” the Phelps clan concoct a rape scenario involving children and a non-existent mythic character named Santa Claus. These freaks are fantasizing on a level so evil that Charlie Manson would cross the street to avoid their collective bad karma.
Forget about chestnuts, these religious whack jobs would love to see us all roasting on an open fire.
Santa ain’t coming to town. He doesn’t exist. But Jesus does and he’s pissed.
British artist Nic Ramage describes the Jelly Wobbler as being non-utilitarian, fragile, struggling to do its job and always on the verge of giving up. All of which sounds like bad sex to me.
In this video, the oddly erotic Wobbler starts slowly, hesitantly, but eventually finds a groove as its little mechanical pelvis starts thrusting and trembling with increased frenzy toward a gelatinous petite mort.
I have no idea who the evil genius is behind the Pin the Mustache on Hall and Oates game. The only thing I can find on the Internet leads me to Michele Rosenthal’s web site.
Here are some incredibly touching Black Metal greeting cards by Etsy seller Cozmiclady of Dark & Somber Greetings. My personal favorite says, “If I had a heart, I’d give it to you.” ♥ ♥ ♥
Why don’t I believe in God? No, no no, why do YOU believe in God? Surely the burden of proof is on the believer. You started all this. If I came up to you and said, “Why don’t you believe I can fly?” You’d say, “Why would I?” I’d reply, “Because it’s a matter of faith.” If I then said, “Prove I can’t fly. Prove I can’t fly see, see, you can’t prove it can you?” You’d probably either walk away, call security or throw me out of the window and shout, ‘’F—ing fly then you lunatic.”
This, is of course a spirituality issue, religion is a different matter. As an atheist, I see nothing “wrong” in believing in a god. I don’t think there is a god, but belief in him does no harm. If it helps you in any way, then that’s fine with me. It’s when belief starts infringing on other people’s rights when it worries me. I would never deny your right to believe in a god. I would just rather you didn’t kill people who believe in a different god, say. Or stone someone to death because your rulebook says their sexuality is immoral. It’s strange that anyone who believes that an all-powerful all-knowing, omniscient power responsible for everything that happens, would also want to judge and punish people for what they are. From what I can gather, pretty much the worst type of person you can be is an atheist. The first four commandments hammer this point home. There is a god, I’m him, no one else is, you’re not as good and don’t forget it. (Don’t murder anyone, doesn’t get a mention till number 6.)
When confronted with anyone who holds my lack of religious faith in such contempt, I say, “It’s the way God made me.”
Grace slithers around the playhouse set like a futuristic vision of Maria Montez’s Cobra Woman as she sings a wonderful version of “Little Dummer Boy” on Christmas at Pee Wee’s Playhouse in 1988.