An open letter to the fans of Alex Jones

A few years ago my cousin called me up for a hang out, when I arrived at his house we went to his attic; our regular place to hang out, we rolled a joint and put on a dvd. He had a special one for the day he said, Alex Jones, Martial Law: Rise of the police state. It was my first foray into the world of Alex Jones, his message was simple and terrifying, act now or be doomed to a life of slavery. He showed us what a lot of us knew already that G.W Bush was an idiot, and a tyrant. He detailed what he believed as the truth behind 9/11, as that particular event was still fairly fresh in my mind and still talked about on the news, it got me hooked and I spent my days trawling his websites in order to educate myself on the ins and outs of the new world order, the 4th reich, skull and bones and a host of other subjects. During the years I spent talking to people about these things I was subjected to the usual bullshit about being a 'conspiracy theorist' or 'conspiracy nut', until people got fed up with Bush and towards the end of his reign people would start spouting the very 'nonsense' I had been telling them a couple of years before.

Now Jones has come out with a new film called 'The Obama Deception', which does what it says on the tin, and sets out to destroy Obama. The current president has only been in office a matter of months and so far he seems to be doing an ok job, and I feel that Jones is profiting from the weak minded 'individuals' that subscribe to his sites, who call others sheep while themselves following the word of a man who knows just as much as everyone else. I still admire Jones in a huge way, he takes the fight to the establishment and has been arrested countless times for his troubles, including once for simply asking then Governor of Texas G.W Bush a question. My issue is the people who post on his sites, Jones' ethos in his early films, particularly 'Rise of the Police state', were that you take the information and make up your own mind, and then pass on the word. I'm pretty sure he didn't stipulate that you should be an asshole about it, which is exactly what I would call the people who post things like "You know not of what you speak. Please go back to NBC, CNN, FOX, ABC, etc. Your mind is not ready for new information." What these people fail to understand is that most people care not for the rantings of a select few, they have real worries, kids, bills, jobs etc. They are not worried about what may or may not happen in 2012 or any other year for that matter. Maybe that is a bad thing, maybe not, but the point is Alex Jones preaches freedom of speech, free thinking and the right to decide. A lot of his fans do not, they are narrow minded idiots with no apparent thoughts of their own, who think that by watching his films and reading his words, then regurgitating them with malice in other peoples faces, they are helping the cause. They could not be more wrong, they represent the opposite side of the ignorant coin that people like Bill O'reilly adorn, and attacking someone you have never met within the security of your bedroom or the anomynity of the net is not brave, nor is it helping.

I realise that by attacking fans of Alex Jones I would have to include myself, and I do to an extent. Except when I grew up I realised shouting debatable "facts" to people was not getting me anywhere, and that offering the available information to people who showed an interest in the subjects was a far better way to approach it. It is important to keep in mind while addressing the subject that there are some people who will never give a shit, for what ever reasons. These people are not your target audience, stop banging your head against the wall and learn which fights you can win. If you have strong feelings about anything then stop wasting your words by posting on the comments page of some website, learn both sides of the argument (yes that means actually paying attention to the dreaded news networks and not just dismissing them outright) and form your own ideas and arguments, then put your words together and forward that to as many people as possible. That is how to talk to people, if you find that doing such a task is too difficult and you can't form an opinion without the help of Alex Jones then you have no place in any argument or debate, especially one of such stature as the 9/11 debate, the prospect of a totalitarian takeover, or the sullying of Obamas name before he has had a chance to prove that all American politicians are not illiterate dumbfucks with criminal tendencies like George W Bush, and the entire Bush family.

I continue to read Alex Jones, and will always pick out like minded individuals and point them in the direction of his sites, and other sites for that matter. You have to remember that if you approach someone while acting like a dick, start calling them sheep, and telling them that they are asleep etc, it will probably result in said person telling you to fuck off, and they will never read these sites at risk of turning into a cunt like the one you came across as.

The Twodayer.

I realised on Sunday morning, after reading the papers while waiting to be picked up, that I was in the wrong business. If you want to make money these days then you better be a polititian or the head of a bank, they are the only people in the position to steal money and get away with it. Hell if you are PM you can kill people, thousands of people, and not only get away with it, but paid well to boot. There is certainly little money to be made in the music industry. When I was finally picked up I wondered if what they say is true, if everyone really is on the breadline, will people venture out to gigs on a sunday and monday night? I certainly hoped so. Myself, Fergus and Stu hit the road, Dragon was not with us as he had business in London for his other project, so we arranged to meet him in Milton Keynes. Before that we had to negotiate our way down the Country. What started as a leasurely Sunday avo drive quickly turned into a race against time to make soundcheck, and to prevent my bladder from exploding all over the front seats/windshield/friends. We made it in time, dispite being late, there was alot of technical dificulties holding up proceedings. I did manage to piss for atleast 3 minutes solid however. The venue was a place called The Crauford Arms, or something like that, it was big and the show went well, dispite the failing P.A and the stained carpets. We ended up having a rather big night after the show, and the landlord let us drink until 4 or there abouts. The place was grotty but the drink is well priced and you don't worry about making a mess, because there already was one. I filled my system with many different ciders, pear, strawberry, regular and the new flavour walkers. Which, by the way, are all shit, none deserve to win, the fish and chips are awful, only two things should smell and taste like that and neither of them are crisps.
By the time we retired up to the bedrooms we had gained two new room mates in the shape of Mac and Scat, who bunked on the floor of Dragon and Gus' room. Later myself and Spider would try to share a single bed to watch the news updates on the Oscars, but by lights out I had to bail on to the floor, the bed was just that little bit too small and the close proximity of my face to the sharp corner of the sideboard had me worried about falling out of the bed. When we woke up I was not too shocked to find out that the hotel didn't have a shower, just a bath. At least it wasn't a tin bath like in the westerns, I was alomost positive it would be. If you ever stay there I would suggest always wearing shoes when walking about on the carpets, that's all I'm saying. As everyday tour tasks go, the early morning load out and waking Dragon up the morning after the night before are the two biggest, sadly both needed done on this morning, me and Spider took care of it, then Gus, like our American cousins, joined in for the final push. We eventually woke Dragon up, ofcourse all the packing was finished, he was suprised to find out there was no shower. We got some good hot rolls and escaped to London, with me cosying up to the gear in the back of the transit.

Day two was a first in Sucios touring days, a press day. First stop was to record an interview for the Dan Carter rock show, not with Dan, but with the lovely Nan. We were met there by Jon from the label, who made sure we got from there to the next interview which was a video interview for an online magazine of sorts, if my memory serves correctly. Everyone was phone mad during that interview, except Spider who didn't seem to get any love from his phone. Even I got a call, and I never have calls. The Riff was on the blower trying to find us, which only served to show just how little I know about London, and how little I pay attention to my surroundings. The Riff was in Kentish town heading to the venue, and it turned out we were in Hackney, that's what the giant fucking sign above my head said anyway, which was pointed out to me when I asked a passer by where exactly I was. When we finally finished with the press, we made our way back to the van, where I finished off the amazing Costco sandwiches I brought with me, really incredible sarnie, cheese and parmaham, shaped like a massive bagel, it had lasted since leaving Ayr the day before. The band were very excited about playing the Bull and Gate again, the Promoter Michael is easily the best young promoter in London, the complete polar opposite of a certain terrible promoter from a gig in our not too distant past. Yet again he made sure as many people knew about the show, that coupled with Sucioperros heavy rep pretty much guaranteed a full house. Anyone who was there will know how good a set it was, for those who couldn't be there you missed a big one, the level of excitement in the room for the duration of the set was palpable. The crowd vibed the whole way through, at one point it got a little explicit in the front row. If you can make your girl wet while standing at the front of a sucio crowd with the sound of fancy new guitars wailing and cymbals crashing, and the acidic smell of the shirts worn by the band then congrats, you are a true swordsman. After the show and the load out, we made moves for the travelodge which was located somewhere in London, it got a bit mad in there, as Dragon was the only one of us who was more than a little pissed, we decided to leave him on his own in the room while we went out for munchies, it turned out we only had to go downstairs to the vending machine, so were only away for five minutes, but in that space of time he had managed to get into his Duke get-up and scare us half to death upon re-entering the room. Being confronted with a half naked Scotsman in riding boots, trousers and zorro style mask is enough to put the fear of God in any man. The credit crunch finally hit me on the long journey back from London, and I completely ran out of cash, well, it's easier to blame the crisis than it is to blame my inability to keep money, and my addiction to spending. The credit crunch doesn't seem to have made much of a difference to my life, I still have a job, I still have money in my bank, which enables me to travel around the country with my favourite band. If that ever changes, to no fault of mine, I will drag our unelected, blind, fat, fidgety fuck of a PM to a Sucio show and watch his glass eye explode. When unelected dictators run other Countries, we kill them, so why not here? Forza Sucio.

The Return of The Duke.

There are somethings that will always be terrifying, watching The Shining in the dark, Nazi Zombies, both in real life and on Call of Duty, Alexandra Burkes ego, and The Marmaduke Duke live show. The venue hosting the first show of this week long tour, their first in three years or so, was The Bongo Club in Edinburgh, if it wasn't for the terrible, highly incompetant bar staff it would be a decent wee place, they even let us smoke in the dressing room. Well, not exactly let us, but they only noticed at the end of the night and told us it was non smoking, to which we all made out it was brand new information, 'no smoking you say? sorry, we didn't know.' So Edinburgh priced drinks and incapable bartenders aside The Duke took the stage to a hell of an ovation. Led on by a six foot funky disco Errol Flynn in a Don Johnson cast off, the band were cloaked, masked and feathered. A large amount of patrons had also made the effort, top hats, capes and weapons littered the crammed venue, I felt under dressed with my slacks, jumper and handsome face. The set thundered into life with the exceptional False and Cinematic, quite possibly their best song, and from there it was a collection of their best cuts from both joints released thus far, sadly Je Suis Un Funky Homme was missing, but you can't have it all I guess. During the insane 'Demon' the poor chap next to me looked completely befuddled, I pictured what was going on inside his head, and from what I could gather he was a little girl with pigtails in downtown Baghdad, crying in the corner amidst a carpet bombing. It was around this point in the show when the bar closed, there are few things as defeating as someone closing a bar shutter right in your face, especially at ten o'clock at night. Just another reason not to return to this potentially good venue.

Marmaduke Duke are in your face, gloriously so, they care not for your ear drums nor your feelings, they will not play an encore and they will remain silent during the breaks. All together it is a very surreal experience, and with so much music around these days it takes something special to stand out, and when the band is made up of two of Scotlands best bands there is little doubt that it will be anything but unique, intricate and completely ferocious. The Atmosphere spent as much time in the crowd as he did on the stage, wearing a mask that is best described as terrifying, combined with his beard and hair it was what nightmares are made of. The Dragon, hooded, bearded and vibed did what he knows best and rocked the shiznit out of the songs, the two drummers and the bass were hidden from my sight because I seem to get shorter at every gig I attend, and it didn't help that one guy in front of me was also so fat that he eclipsed the stage. He moved, however, when I leaned forward and told him they were giving away free deep fried pizza and chocolate dipping sauce at the front door. 'The Duke' will be on tour all week, playing such venues as The Deaf Institute in Manchester, a social club in Leeds, gay haven Heaven, and even gayer... Glasgow Art School, it's clear that they are not an average band. Their outfits could influence people either way, if it wasn't for the music, a collection of some of the finest riffs, beautiful melodies and incredible lyrics. Some bands would do well to take note. Image is all very well, but if you don't have the songs to back up the image then, thankfully, you will dissapear as quickly as you arrived.