||THE INTREPID FOX'S VIEW FROM THE BAR: PAST, PRESENT AND FUTURE..."THE FIVE OF PENTACLES"
18 March 2014
"Shamefast he was to come to Towne, but meet with no-one save a Clowne..."
20 years and twenty days ago, on February 26th 1994, the only comedian worthy of inclusion in the same sentence as the great Lenny Bruce died, aged 32.
"...blowtorch, excavator, truthsayer...like a reverend waving a gun around. He will correct your vision. Others will drive on the road he built...". (Tom Waits)
"With his clarity of vision and gift of words, if (he) had had any more time he might of started a revolution". (Keith Olberman)
"...his words still burn with righteous truth...". (Paul Brannigan, former editor Kerrang)
It was a privilege to see the man whose words were a "bullet in the heart of consumerism and capitalism" perform live at the Dominion Theatre, London, November 1992. His name was Bill Hicks...
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With a depth of perception that was astonishing, brutal honesty and incredible political insight he used "comedy" to educate, inform and entertain. In short, the man was a fuckin' genius; a shaman. If he could see the world today he would turn in his grave.
Comedy has been used to expose the lies and hypocricy that pervade our cultures for centuries. In the 16th Century the Italian character of Pulcinella was a trickster figure rooted in mythology; essentially the Norse God, Loki. In 1662, in the UK, the puppet known as Mr Punch made his first appearance. In the British 'Punch and Judy' show he dresses in a brightly coloured jester's costume; a hunchback with a hooked nose; he carries a "slapstick" as big as himself; speaks in a distinctive squawking voice; exudes menace and causes mayhem wherever he goes. And this figure is used to entertain children? Seriously? We have a "funny" way of finding our kicks sometimes.
Fuckin' humans: we're very over-rated. There's too fucking many of us for a start. Stop re-producing. Let's work out this 'food/air' ratio. Would you really miss one less car in traffic? Surely the world would be a lighter place without a few of us; spin a little faster. Sometimes I think we should do this wondrous planet of ours a favour and collectively walk into history and extinction, heads held high, and let evolution takes it's natural course: move another species to the top of the fucking food chain.
Just turn on the television. When we can 'lose' 239 people on a fucking Boeing 777, with all the fucking technology we've spent all our lives refining to the point when we can read a newspaper headline from fucking space; something's wrong. No cell-phone calls connected, to or from the passengers or crew; 'cloaking devices'; 30 minute gaps in radar coverage; an altitude well over the maximum the fucking things s'posed to fly; 'swooping manoeuvring' over major cities; no Twitter or Instagram: just an "all right, good night" from the pilot. What the fuck? It's all very "Lost".
Can anyone tell me the difference between the current political climate in the Ukraine and what Hitler did in October 1939? And what genius manages to crash a helicopter and miss Seattle's Space Needle? It's fucking huge. It's a fucking "Tower"... At least in the UK we hit what we're aiming at, when we're whacked off our heads at the controls of a lethal weapon with rotor-blades: a fucking pub. And the Pope don't wanna talk to Russell Crowe? Seriously? I don't wanna talk to fucking Russell Crowe...he's a cunt.
It's like some crazed, crack-addicted pitbull's outside yer front door. "Let's just stay in tonight 'n order pizza, babe. Let the delivery boy deal with that shit." Methinks Mr Punch is 'aving a little chuckle. Baby- bashing, wife- beating, sausage- stealing Mr Punch. Whose victims include "the foreigner, the blind man, the publican, the constable, and the devil." Oh, and he kills "Death". While Joey the Clown moves the corpses around behind him to confuse. Really? The first case of 'serial killer humour'. For kids.
The fucking Five of Pentacles: the dark night of the soul.
On a lighter note we've got another cracking week of entertainment here at the Fox. Upstairs in "THE BOM SHELTR", Thu 20, we've got the mighty STORMBORN+THE RAVEN AGE+SPIDER BYTE live. Fri 21, London rock royalty KING LIZARD+THE MERCY HOUSE and the hard-rock showcase. Sat 22 is the first anniversary of CLUB SERPENT, hosted by the VICIOUS BREED dj's. An' all dayer' wiv too many bands to mention. So check out the calendar at www.intrepidfox.com for details 'n put that in yer crack-pipe 'n smoke it...!!!
THE INTREPID FOX now has two weeks before its eviction from its home here on St Giles High St. Every week we shall be posting a statement around 5pm on the Tuesday. We ask our many friends out there to please share...
And just in case the planet seems to be spinning crazily off its axis, for this week we leave you with the words of the late, great, sadly missed Bill Hicks...
"The world is like a ride at an amusement park. And when you choose to go on it, you think that it's real because that's how powerful our minds are. And the ride goes up and down and round and round. It has thrills and chills, and it's very brightly coloured, and it's very loud and it's fun for a while. Some people have been on the ride for a long time, and they begin to question-is this real, or is this just a ride?... We kill the good guys and let the demons run amok...But it doesn't matter because: it's just a ride. And we can change it any time we want. It's only a choice. No effort, no work, no job, no savings and money. A choice, right now, between fear and love.
The eyes of fear want you to put bigger locks on your doors, buy guns, close yourself off. The eyes of love, instead, see all of us as one"...
PS. The fucking plane's been abducted by aliens...
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