Conrad Black Is The Basis For A Good James Bond Type Villain

Conrad Black looks like a rich bastard.

Born into a rich family. In one biography, they said he was kicked out of college for selling stolen exam papers. Because when you're in private school, you gotta do what you gotta do to survive, ya feel me?

[I'm watching The Wire too much.]

He later hustled some two widows out of their massive holdings company.

He bought into The Telegraph in London. This got him into the British press.

He wanted to be in the house of lords. Now he's Baron Black. (That's a fucking villain name, right there, game over. Need I make any more comparisons? That's such a villain name it almost goes into self-parody, then you realize it's real, so it's cool.)

The Canadians wouldn't let him do that and keep his Canadian citizenship, so he gave it up just so he could be called Baron Black. He renounced his Canadian citizenship. When life became rough, he went back and tried to get it back. Because supervillains are like that, a superstitious and cowardly lot.

Baron Black does not talk like regular foks. Baron Black orates like a genteel aristocrat of utmost position.

For example, he didn't like one biography of him. You and I might say that, "Hey, in your book, when you talked about me when I was a kid and my family, that was all total bullshit, you stuck up liar." He says, "Bower's portrayal of my youth and family was an astonishing farrago of snide falsehoods." Because that's how Baron Black of Crossharbour speaks his words. Because he is a James Bond villain who escaped the fictional world.

Shit, all he needs is a nuclear bomb somewhere, a henchmen with an eye that's also a gun, and James Bond will appear again in Never Live Tomorrow In Time For A Gold Kill.

North Korea Week Continues

See, here's the thing. There's a lot of light in Western civilization. From streetlights, from office builldings, from people going about their business.

Now, look at this pic of the Korean Peninsula:



















Basically, the lights on the top are China, the lights on the bottom are South Korea, and everything's in the middle that lovely Orwellian getaway called North Korea.

I know I'm going on and on about it, but these kinds of places aren't supposed to be real. At best, we should read about them in books, and a sexy devil-may-care rocket pilot must save the day. But they are, and we shouldn't forget about them. So there's my piece.

Continuing North Korea Week

More propaganda of a totalitarian state.






Notice the unrelenting violence, without humour. Perfect for little soldiers.

There's bastards in the world.




You don't see much other third-world nations doing massive gymnastics displays.















Notice only one car.

On Crazy Bastards

This is just a reminder. There are crazy bastards out there who deserve a bullet in their brain lobes, and they're not going away because you watch television.

You watch YouTube instead. I know the irony. I'm hip to what the children are doing.



Although really, if you're gonna be the world's bastard, at least you're the world's biggest most super-villainish moo-hoo-ha-ha villain.

Brief Interludes of Songs I Would Create If I Started A Band

Track 1 - Machine Gun Fucking
Machine Gun Fucking - lyrics repeat often and loudly.
Then later on it would go to this part where we get a porn stars moans to match up fast enough to machine gun fire. You know, "Uh uh uh uh uh uh" so on until it gets crazy.

Track 2 - Don't Censor Me Or I Kill You

Basically, it would show my bandmates and I looking bad ass. Then it goes to this little punk reading out lyrics from one of my other songs. He says, "Guys, you realize we're going to have to censor this, right?" That's when it goes to a close up of me, I wince, then I go, "Oh yeah?" Which is were we all beat him up and then rape him and then kill him and then rape his corpse and then rape his ashes. Not that this would be shown, just implied by me handing out condoms with a grin. Finally, as we've done everything we could to the guy, my camera mates would say, "Hey man, we ain't got no money cause we can't play our number one hit on the radio." I say, "Oh yeah. Well, let's go deal drugs." Then one of my bandmates, Stinky I'd call him, would say, "Oh yeah. Dealing drugs is cool."

Track 3 - I Love Your Mother

"Ooh baby, you know I love the way your mother looks/in/the moonlight/Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah oh yeah. And you know when the mood is right/(so right)/you know I'm just gonna have a good time/(A good time) because you know I-I-I love your mother."

I'm thinking it'll be similar to Styx's "Heat of the Moment."

Track 4 - Karma Police

Think the Radiohead song only done like Sabotage for the Beastie Boys.

More when I think of them and Stinky gets out of prison and I earn enough to get my steel guitar back from the pawnshop.

I'm Back, Again, and I'm Pimping Myself Harder Than A Diamond That's Been Through A Hardening Machine

Sorry about that. I was kidnapped by Vietnamese mercenaries. Let's leave it at that.

In my jail cell, while I survived on a thin stew of my own urine and damp rice, I found the time to write a piece about a chalk artist in Toronto, Chalkmaster Dave. I got paid for writing for the first time. It's out now on Nowmagazine.com. Here. Read it or die.

Oh, and if Lo Duc is somehow alive and reading this, thank you, my friend. I'll never forget your sacrifice.