Well it turns out that Steven Daly’s former band Orange Juice won their little Mojo award after all—hopefully this will be the last time we hear about his musical “history” on this site. According to Steven the other highlight of the event—which was attended by the likes of Jimmy Page, Brian Wilson, Ringo Starr and Steve Cropper—was when John Lydon got on stage to pick up some kind of lifetime achievement award and launched into an addled tirade against the entire music business for suppressing his genius all this years. The Sex Pistols’ formerly proud “Irish” frontman then proceeded to call England “the best country in the world”—at which point the red mist descended. “Putting aside Lydon’s utter hypocrisy, you just do not flirt with English nationalism nowadays,” says the Scottish ex-pat. “It’s been completely hijacked by the the violent, far-right scum who follow England’s national football team. “So I found myself jumping up and shouting ‘FUCK YOUR ENGLAND!’ Cue nervous silence all round. “I’m not proud of my outburst,” Daly confesses. “Actually, yes, I am.”

01.Dean Martin “Little Ole Wine Drinker Me”
02.Orange Juice “Dying Day”
03.Frankie Miller “Brickyard Blues”
04.The Showmen “It Will Stand’
05.Chairmen of the Board “I’m On My Way to a Better Place”
06.Rupie Edwards “Irie Feelings”
07.Dr. Feelgood “Roxette”
08.Nils Lofgren “Goin’ Back
09.Dusty Springfirled “Wasn’t Born To Follow”
10.Lightning Seeds “Pure”
11.Billie Ray Martin “Your Loving Arms”
12.Paul Quinn and the Independent Group “Will I Ever Be Inside of You”
13.Thelonius Monk “Consecutive Seconds”
 

 
Download this week’s episode
 
Subscribe to the Dangerous Minds Radio Hour podcast at iTunes
 

 
Cornell’s Creative Machines Lab says, “What happens when you let two bots have a conversation? We certainly never expected this…”

THIS is how it begins!

 
(via Nerdcore )

 
Well, at least I think this is ‘daggering.’ Things get pretty hot and heavy between the host of the TV show and the marionette around the 1:30 mark. Enjoy!
 

 
Previously on Dangerous Minds:
The dance craze that can break your dick

(via BuzzFeed)

 
The Bible (allegedly) autographed by Jesus Christ himself is up for auction on eBay with a starting bid of $1,000,000.69. I like how Jesus dots his “i” with a heart.

You are bidding on an extremely rare copy of a “THE BIBLE.”  written by. Jesus, et al.

What makes this copy so rare is that it is autographed by JESUS CHRIST himself!!!  It appears he has signed it using a royal blue Expo marker…which makes it even more valuable.

Book is ‘like new’ with some slight use.  I’m not pointing fingers at Jesus or anything, but someone has included some crudely drawn PENISES on a few of the pages.

***  PLEASE NOTE ***
AND THIS IS EXTREMELY EXTREMELY EXTREMELY IMPORTANT…. The VHS copy of “The Fly” is NOT included in the auction sale.  Thank you!

“THE BIBLE” Autographed by JESUS CHRIST himself RARE

(via reddit)

 
Sinéad O’Connor wants a man, according Ireland’s Sunday Independent, in which the singer wrote an article in search of Mr Right.

So, if nothing compares to you and you’re over 44 years of age, based in Ireland and are “very snuggly” and “not wham-bam” (though occasionally “wham bam”), then this may be of interest:

The man who runs my site will protectively suggest I may want to visit the bathroom for a few intimate moments and a subsequent cold shower before deciding to post this on the site but I will of course ignore him as it’s too late now and the her-moans are having the best of me.

I recently read of a woman in America who married and regularly humps her truck. I don’t yet own a truck but I’m beginning to understand her head space. And am worried I too may be so desperate for sex that within days I might run up the road and hump Bray Cabs’ whole fleet of cars in one hour. Forty quid clear-up afterward. Can’t say fairer than that. Except maybe a photo for their website. Which’d be fine.

My situation sexually/affectionately speaking is so dire that inanimate objects are starting to look good, as are inappropriate and/or unavailable men and/or inappropriate and/or unavailable fruits and vegetables. I tell you, yams are looking like the winners. I actually do know

a woman who is a performance artist from America. I have a photo of her being escorted arm-in-arm by two UK policemen on to a plane back home cuz she humped a yam in the middle of her show. I just know that’s going to happen to me if I don’t take drastic action.

Needless to say what I do for a living makes it hard for me to find men that only want me cuz they like my (legendary) arse. Yet I am in the peak of my sexual prime and way too lovely to be living like a nun, and it’s VERY depressing.

So I’ve been pondering on whether or not I should join some Irish dating agencies. Of course if I did it would end up in papers

so I may as well save myself the registration fees. Besides which, a friend of mine uses dating agencies

and half the men actually have wives.

Am in desperate need of a very sweet sex-starved man. He must be no younger than 44.

Must be living in Ireland but I don’t care if he is from the planet Zog.

Must not be named Brian or Nigel.

Must be blind enough to think I’m gorgeous.

Has to be employed. Am not fussy in what capacity generally but vehicle clampers need not apply.

Leather trouser-wearing gardai, fire-men, rugby players, farmers and Robert Downey Jnr will be given special consideration. As will literally anyone who applies.

I like me a hairy man, so buffed and/or waxed need not apply.

No hair gel.

No hair dryer use.

No hair dye.

Stubble is a non-negotiable must. Any removal of stubble would be upsetting for me.

No aftershave.

Must be very ‘snuggly’. Not just wham-bam.

Must be wham-bam.

Has to like his mother.

Has to like his ex and/or mother/s of his children.

Has to live in own place.

Countless rumours have it that opera singers are recommended to have sex half an hour before each show. So by even applying you are part of my artistic advancement.

Interested parties can apply at (for real): vampyahslayah at yahoo dot com

 
Via Ireland’s Sunday Independent
 

 
This comes with the customary warning: ‘Do not try this’.
 

 
With thanks to Jonathan Mackenzie
 

 
More from the interior of Lou Reed’s amplifier.

The Velvet Underground played Boston on March, 15 1969 at famed music venue The Boston Tea Party. Someone put a microphone inside Lou Reed’s amplifier and the result is pretty magnificent.

Bootlegged as The Legendary Guitar Amp Tapes, the recordings are formidable in their unadulterated rock and roll fire and fury and a revelation for anyone who hasn’t paid close attention to Reed’s dynamic guitar playing

A beautifully seductive, gently brutal and ultimately ferocious version of “Heroin” is followed by an incendiary “Sister Ray” driven by Moe Tucker’s shamanic skin thumping and Lou Reed’s electronic raping and pillaging of the small villages in our punk rock imaginations.

This is rock and roll at its magical best. And when I say “magical” I refer to that which draws our attention to the spirit that animates concrete, steel, meat and heartbeat. When it’s truly divine, and in this case it is, divinity pulses through radiant, vacuum tubes made of metallic alloys, ionic melts, aqueous solutions, molecular liquids, pumping mystic fire into the wet molecular slop of our hungry brains resonating from the head to the cock/pussy and all the way down to the balls of our feet. And then we move…and then we dance…and then…rock godhood descends upon us like a sweet cloak of diaphanous love juice.

Play this so loud that your neighbors pound the walls, begging and imploring you to rent a room in the Super 8 up the block. Ignore them. Or invite them in.
 

 
The Velvet Underground played Boston on March, 15 1969 at famed music venue The Boston Tea Party. Someone put a microphone inside Lou Reed’s amplifier and the result is pretty magnificent.

Bootlegged as The Legendary Guitar Amp Tapes, the recordings are formidable in their unadulterated rock and roll fire and fury and a revelation for anyone who hasn’t paid close attention to Reed’s dynamic guitar playing which in this set is a monolithic roar, a pulverizing electronic kaiju (strange beast) grinding whole universes into pebble and sand.

Listen as Louzilla annihilates the planets and their multiple moons with blasts of amplified frequencies as sublime as they are world crushing. This is the sound of heavy metal thunder!

I’ll be posting more soon.

The louder, the better.
 

 
The year before he made If…, Lindsay Anderson produced and directed The White Bus, a short film adapted by Shelagh Delaney, from her short story “Sweetly Sings the Donkey”.

The White Bus was originally commissioned as one third of a three-part film RED, WHITE & ZERO, to be directed by Anderson and his “Free Cinema” collaborators, Tony Richardson and Karel Reisz. It proved an ill-fated project, and The White Bus was the only part to be finished and given a cinematic release.

Delaney was best known for her play A Taste of Honey, while Anderson had established himself as critic and as a documentary film maker, winning an Oscar for one of his first films, Thursday’s Children in 1954. Anderson was also Britain’s leading theater director.

In 1963, Anderson directed This Sporting Life, starring Richard Harris and Rachel Roberts, and based on a novel by David Storey.

Writers were important to Anderson, and he formed highly successful collaborations with a handful of playwrights and authors. In theater,his work with David Storey produced the acclaimed dramas In Celebration, Home, The Changing Room and Life Class. While his collaboration with David Sherwin led to the Mick Travis trilogy, If…, O, Lucky Man! and Britannia Hospital.

The White Bus has many of the hallmarks of Anderson’s later films (most notably O, Lucky Man! ), and suggests that the teamwork of Anderson-Delaney could have led to greater works. One can only wonder how Delaney’s film, Charlie Bubbles would have turned out if Anderson had directed it.

The White Bus stars Patricia Healey, and features Arthur Lowe, Anthony Hopkins, and is the story of a young woman numbed by London life, who returns to Salford in search of her northern roots.

Through the eyes of her disillusioned protagonist, Delaney creates a beautifully warped city symphony about an industrial town vivid with history yet ever-changing.

 
Seen on today’s Austin Craigslist:

Drunk Clown needed to party with a group of friends this Sunday.

Dress up like a clown, be willing to get drunk, and hang out with a cool group of people and bar hop with us this Sunday (August 28th) You will meet us at Kung Fu probably around 3:00 pm- (you MUST be dressed up like a clown, face paint.. etc… it would be awesome if you had those little blow up balloons with you too).... and we will have a Sunday Fun day on West 6th. We will pay you $10 an hour, and pay for your drinks. Contact me for details.

 
Thanks Angel Trevino.