Candia Dixon-Stuart was about to encounter Sydney Kingsford Smith.
Sounds romantic, eh?
Actually, all it meant was that I was about to touch down at the New
South Wales airport.
I’d just finished reading the Weekend supplement of an Aussie
newspaper, with its very interesting article on blobfish, when the
seat belt sign was turned off and I thought I saw one of those
psychrolutes micropons thingies trying to retrieve its amorphous
cabin luggage from the overhead locker, having a guttural exchange
with the stewardess.
At first it seemed to morph into a member of that Finnish group,
LORDI, who won The Eurovision Song Contest in 2006, but then
I listened intently and discovered that it probably spoke Swedish
and had momentarily broken out of its Transformer costume.
Maybe Security wasn’t having any of it and Passport Control had
asked it to remove its latex mask, or accept consignment to the hold.
(By the way, why do all those intent on ‘shocking’ their fellows have to
resort to blasphemy and childish usurpation of religious names and
terms? I mean, one such band member is called Amen. Get your
own language, losers.)
Anyway, I was given a death-stare and didn’t see him again until Baggage
Claim, when I tried to discern his group’s name from his promotional t-
Sounds like a kid’s cartoon character. Love-a-duck! Donald Duck?!
Later I Googled their current tour. So, they are a Satanic band with ‘Evil
be thou my good’ no doubt their watchword. Yawn!
His promotional photo showed something streaming down his head as
if a seagull had perched on a municipal statue. Or was it a merde-duck?
The thing about these ageing rockers is that they seem to be frozen
in some kind of time warp. Ozzie Osborne and Mick Jagger are
Establishment now. Why keep flogging a dead horse?
Alice Cooper was aeons ago. Meat Loaf is probably past his
sell-by date. Sounds like a recipe by Fanny Craddock. Things
Even James May has had a tidy up.
And it really is poor taste to be claiming affiliation with evil when the
real stuff is being enacted all round the globe, or had been enacted in
the Lindt cafe, not so far away from the airport. It’s not about
banging your head like a toddler having a tantrum in its cot.
Of course, it could all be an act. Probably my subject is capable of being
as polite as the Harry Enfield character Kevin’s chum, played by Kathy
Burke, when speaking to someone else’s mother. Life is a stage and we
all play different parts, don’t we?
Maybe the scowling rockster went on to buy his aged granny, Inge Soda-
Stream, a nice souvenir pair of Ugg slippers- often reduced, I noticed in
Sydney shops. The devil allegedly likes a bargain, so his spawn would
hardly be averse to one. He probably made plenty Mammon at the
Melbourne gig beforehand.
I expect he did probably send his mormor/ farmor a nice postcard of the
harbour so she could put it up on the mantelpiece of her Nykoping
nursing home and tell the carers that he is such a nice boy and that he
used to relish her meatballs. Really? It seems so.
Evil always looks a bit sheepish to me. Satan had to disguise himself
as a cherub to ask directions from Uriel, in Paradise Lost. A she-devil
wouldn’t have been so reticent.
So, Marduk refers to Baal, god of Babylon. There’s been a lot of music
created about that deity. Think Belshazzar’s Feast and, if you listen
to it, I am sure you’ll find it a lot more sophisticated than anything this
Scandinavian -collective term for a gang of demons??- will produce.
Bryn Terfel was on the award-winning Walton CD in which Yours Truly sang
the L’Inviti part. I am sure he could have personally taken on all minor
demons of that particular region with a Welsh rugby tackle and could
have shown Marduk how one blast from his lungs would blow them all
off the concert stage into the pit- not necessarily The Inferno.
But, you take my point: the writing on the wall must surely come for these
guys, in spite of their Brutal Assault Tour, 2015.
The Devil steals all the best tunes and they are advertising their steel-
armored (sic) death choir, which they are going to ‘unleash‘.
Puh-lease! Have they ever attended a cathedral choir rehearsal when
the solo snippets are being assigned? They don’t know what malice is!
In that context, it is serious internecine warfare, which would reveal
any spite that Marduk would exhibit as kittenish.
They’re even going to perform a selection of what they call hymns
from their current album. They could ask Alan Titchmarsh to present
They’re going to have a Hatefest in Leipzig. Surely, it’s not that bad a
venue? Mind you, it is probably preferable to that out-dated love-in!
Sorry, guys, but I can’t take you seriously. Good is the new sexy, in
case you hadn’t heard. Everyone loves Cumberbatch et al.
As C S Lewis showed, Satan is a mere parody of God. I think he
pinched that from St Augustine- and he was a reformed
When confronted with ranting devils in Pandemonium, God actually
laughed. A cosmic laugh. And it did not reflect amusement, so much
as true power.
Laughter puts an end to debate. So, I bite my thumb at you.