A reply to a reader on Eurovision II

I have taken my time, but I have finally drafted my reply to Ms Emily Boots on the question of Eurovision.

I replied to Ms Boots original comment.

She replied.

Now, I have finally provided my long-awaited answer.

Ms Boots writes:

Dear Mr Sands,

Let me say that I was devastated to hear of your death and was forced to take refuge in a bottle of chilled Stolypin (rum being so 20th Century) and said Stoly being a tribute of sorts to the upcoming you-know-what (which hopefully has not been marred by the Georgian acts of aggression).

I confess to great disappointment in your failure to tell me exactly how to watch the Eurovision contest (assuming it occurs--- we need to watch closely the entrants from the Ukraine, Latvia and Estonia, who are rumoured to be planning to sing 'We don't wanna put in' as part of the CIA-Mossad campaign of disruption).

However, I am prepared to give you a bit of leeway, given your state of health (death being generally considered a bad sign). You can redeem yourself in my (bloodshot) eyes if you can pass on to me some information to which you seem privy: you claim to know where I am (your reference to rum), which is something I have been trying figure out for a while now.

Meanwhile, I will create a google alert for 'The Death of Carlo Sands: the Sequel' so I can be the first in my neighbourhood (wherever that is) to know about upcoming events. Idle gossip (the worst kind) has tapped Johnny Depp for a key role, but we've been disappointed before.

yours,

emily boots (definitely my true name, more or less)


Carlo Sands replies:

Dear Emily More or Less,

Firstly, I wish to offer my sincere thanks at your condolences for my most unfortunate passing. You be surprised at how hard such sympathy has been to come by.

I had always been of the belief that it is the worst possible manners to speak ill of the dead. Alas… it appears little store is placed these days on such common human decencies.

I must, of course, apologise for the sizable time lapse between your comment and my reply.

My only excuse is I have only just, more or less, finished the drinking binge I embarked upon in celebration over the results of Eurovision 2009.

It is not so much the precise winner, which was Norway as it goes. I did, of course, say the Scandinavian countries were a reasonable bet.

No, the real victory lies in the fact that finally decisive action was taken against the absolute disgrace of blocs of nations voting for each other.

A new system of voting was enacted, after concerns about, as the source of all knowledge Wikipedia put it “some broadcasters' continued complaints about politically charged, neighbourly and diaspora voting”.

It was clear the situation was untenable. Esctoday.com explained: “The perception of biased voting has led to a decline in reputation of the Eurovision Song Contest in Western Europe as a fair music competition and led Sir Terry Wogan to resign as the UK commentator after almost four decades of coverage.”


Sir Terry Wogan! What a loss to the Eurovision competition.

In response to this outrage, a new system was introduced for 2009. Under the new arrangement, 50% of the votes in a final round were determined by the popular vote, via the method of televoting. The remaining 50% will be allocated by a properly selected national jury.

Of course, some may raise questions about a weakening of the popular vote. Is this truly democratic?

Let me say this: until the fucking masses learn to use their votes with a bit of responsibility, then such measures shall remain necessary.

That may controversial to some of the more anarchist-minded ultra-radical readers of this blog, but reality bears this out.

Of course, I take personal credit for this development.

I exposed it in my brilliant piece of investigative journalism in the lead up to Eurovision 2008. I exposed, ruthlessly, the shocking abuse of the profound Leninist principle of the right of all nations to self-determination purely in order to secure more Eurovision votes.

This, if I may say so, is exactly the sort of investigative journalism, and commitment to the truth at all cost, that is so sadly lacking from the modern corporate media.

So I take Norway’s victory as a personal vindication of my position. Someone needed the courage to stand up, whatever the cost, and state the truth.

And history will record that that person was Carlo Sands.

So, I hope that you will forgive me a month or two of celebratory drinking, which may have affected the pace of my correspondence.

As to the question of where you are. Let me answer that in a profoundly philosophical sense: in my experience you are you where you want to be. That is why I find myself so often in the pub.

(Though, I may add, not so much the Shannon — readers of the blog should stay tuned for that explosive story.)

yours as ever,

Carlo Sands (deceased)

PS: At to the possibility of Johnny Depp appearing in "The Death of Carlo Sands: The Sequel", I could not comment. Our relationship of late has been somewhat rocky. But I feel consrtained from saying more.

Shane MacGowan gets his teeth fixed??? First sign of the coming Armageddon?

I never thought such a day would come.

I mean, this is one crazy, mixed up world — that no one can deny.

But there has always been a constant. One thing on which we could hold on to. Something solid in this ever-changing world.

Something that represented all that was good, decent and worth holding on to as we slide further and further towards the abyss of barbarism.

Shane MacGowan's teeth.

Comrade MacGowan's teeth were a symbol of everything right in the world. A rebellion against all that was false, manufactured, artificially smooth.

A permanent defence of permanent drunkenness — years of abuse of intoxicants created those teeth! They were an achievement, a life well lived!

Of course, it should be added than an apparently decisive moment came when he allegedly broke his set badly after an all-day drinking session that ended with him tripping over a pile of bricks.

But such a gain is not just the product of one day's work. You spend your life drunk, sooner or later you will trip over a pile of bricks and create a mouth to be proud of!

But, it pains me to say, no more.

No, Shane MacGowan has turned his back on everything he once stood for.

He has gotten his chompers fixed.

Yes, this is how he spent the money he eared from a recent tour with a re-grouped Pogues.

This raises serious ethical questions.

Did those Pogues fans forking out hard-earned cash to go and see the original Pogues line up, with MacGowan out front once more, know this is how the tour's profits would be spent?

Did they know that they would be complicit in MacGowan betraying everything he once stood for?

That he would bugger off to fucking Spain to fill the bank account of some overpaid tooth quack to fix him up with some new-fangled fangs?

Well check it out. Here is Shane as we knew and loved him.






And here he is after his cosmetic surgery.





You see how he has caved in to the demands to submit to the dominant body image? See how smooth and conventionally handsome he know looks?

Oh the shame of it all.

I firmly belief that this is the first sign of the coming Armageddon.

And I will say this: if it turns out that Comrade MacGowan has started attending AA meetings, then the final battle between good and evil will have begun.

If this is the case, I trust all readers of this blog will find themselves in the front line — broken whiskey bottle in hand.






Old-school Shane MacGowan. Pre-Armageddon days, before we were over-taken by the all-encompassing battle between the forces of Good and Evil.

The fucking bastards! Being ‘noticeably drunk’ is not a crime! It is a legitimate lifestyle choice!

Anyone who knows me will attest to the fact that I am, to say the least, slow to anger.

Generally speaking, I am pretty laid back. Little bothers me.

Carlo “Serenity” Sands — that’s me to a tea. It sure takes a hell of a lot to get me worked up.

I have always taken as my touchstone the advice offered by my good friend V. I. Lenin of how to proceed when faced with people who disagree with your historically correct analysis and prescription: “Patiently explain.”

But even “Carlo the Calm” (as I am popularly known) has his limits.

Sometimes, something occurs so blatantly outrageous and unjust, such a violation of what any decent person holds dear to their heart as the very essence of humanity, that, I, yes even I, get really fucking angry.

What could possibly upset the equilibrium of such a profoundly balanced human being as Carlo Sands?

I can barely bring myself to type these words. Tears of anger and sorrow roll down my cheeks.

The NSW government has launched yet another crack down on drinkers.

In it's latest assault on our fundamental rights, NSW police (famous the world over for their sobriety) have been given increased powers to tackle the scourge of alcohol consumption.

The law has been changed so that the point at which police can arrest you has been lowered from being “seriously drunk” to “noticeably drunk”.

Now, the original law was bad enough.

I mean, who the fuck wastes their time drinking if they are not aiming to get seriously drunk?

What the fuck is the point? If you are not going to take your drinking seriously, get out of the fucking way at the bar!

But noticeably drunk???

For christ sake, do these lunatics think people consume alcohol because they have run out of Bushall teabags?

Why the fuck would anyone waste their time and hard-earned cash drinking booze if the effects were not even noticeable?

If you can't notice the effects after a drinking session, you haven't been doing it right. You need to get back there and fucking drink some more!

Let's just look at the potential consequences of implementing a law that makes it a crime to be “noticeably drunk” in Australia:

Parliament would be emptied by the constabulary. All journalists would be rounded up and interned. English backpackers would face mass arrest. Footballers of all codes would be pre-emptively detained.

Now, I know what you are thinking: sounds pretty fucking good.

Yes! But because they are all noticeably arseholes!

Booze has nothing to do with it.

You want to pass a law declaring it a crime to be seriously, or even noticeably, an arsehole in public, then you've got my vote. The above mentioned groups would all be rounded up and hauled away, for the undoubted betterment of humanity.

But leave the great mass of us honest drinkers alone.

Let's just think about some of the consequences of this new law a bit more. If it was applied consistently, across the board, there could be disastrous consequences.

For one, The Shannon would never be open — what with bar manager Paddy's endless cycle of arrests and court appearances.

Every 15-year-old in a park on a Friday night with a bag of goon would end up in jail — just for taking it upon themselves to go out and learn some of life's important lessons.

In short, as my protest placard intends to read, Australia is noticeably drunk.

Apply this law across the board, and all of civilised life in this god-forsaken island would ground to a halt.

And surely our benighted rulers are not that stupid?

That is, could it be that actually this outrageous law is not intended to be applied to all, or even the overwhelming majority, of NSW citizens?

Well, some cynics have suggested such an interpretation.

Yes, it seems that this law is, in fact, just yet another way for the upholders of law and order to kick the most downtrodden even harder.

Thalia Anthony, a law lecturer at Sydney University, pointed out: “New laws giving police the power to move on people who are slurring their words will cement a long tradition of criminalising Aboriginal people for public order offences.”

Anthony explained: “History shows indigenous people are most likely to be caught by this type of legislation and incarcerated for the mere appearance of intoxication.

“The move-on laws have the peculiar flavour of targeting people who are not committing a crime or even suspected of committing a crime. They are activated where people are deemed drunk.”

Such outrageous laws are not unprecedented, and neither is their consequences, Anthony said. ”The discriminatory policing of drunk Aboriginal people is blatant. Indigenous people are 42 times more likely than other Australians to be in custody for public drunkenness.

“In 2005 the Australian Institute of Criminology identified public drunkenness as a key issue relating to police custody. In October 2002 it found that of those detained by police there were 17 times more Aborigines than all other groups.”

Anthony concluded: “Through its move-on slurring powers, the NSW Government has provided another back-door means for incarcerating drunk Aboriginal people ... It is another sad attempt to criminalise indigenous behaviour rather than criminal activity.”

So that is the story, eh?

What a bunch of racist scum. And to think, they would use booze as their weapon to attack a people already largely destroyed by ongoing colonisation. Such an innocent thing used to such evil ends.

But I say, we don't have to accept this.

The Indigenous people have never stopped resisting. They have never ceded sovereignty over this land, and they continue to raise their demands for justice.

I say we follow their example.

I hearby call for a campaign of mass resistance to these patently ridiculous, outrageous, absurd and outright racist law.

I call for a mass civil disobedience in a Day of Drunken Disorder throughout the state — bring it to its knees.

Personally, I hearby pledge, as an act of protest, to be noticeably drunk at all times until this law is repealed.

Being noticeable drunk is not a crime, it is a legitimate lifestyle choice.

In the worlds of Irish punk-folk band Flogging Molly: “Fuck you I'm drunk, fuck you I'm drunk! And I'm gonna be drunk till the next time I'm drunk!”





“Pour my beer down the sink, I've got more in the trunk”: Irish punk-folk bank Floggin' Molly tell NSW police what they think of the “noticeably drunk” laws.

A reply to a reader on Eurovision

I received the following correspondence from a reader, posted as a comment to my celebrated post exposing Great Balkan Eurovision Scam in the lead-up to last years Eurovision — in which I revealed the way that the fundamental right to national self-determination was being abused in order to score the Balkan region more votes.

I include the note and my reply below, for readers consideration before the May 17 2009 Eurovision Grand Final.

From Emily Boots...

Dear Mr. Sands,

Unfortunately, I am not privileged like you and can neither join you on the clean floor of the Shannon nor can I watch the Eurovision contest [I now realise I have been missing all of my miserable life].

Will you be ranking the contenders in the latter, and do you have any suggestions as to how I can watch the contest? Also, where can I place my bets?

yours,
Emily


My reply...


Dear Emily Boots (if that is your real name, and I have my reasons for doubting the claim),

I have yet to make a proper study of various contenders in Eurovision 2009. However, for reasons that should be clear from my post last year, any of the Balkan nations are a reasonably safe bet.

They are appear to be quite confident this year, judging from the fact that there have been no new moves since last year's contest by the region’s people to create yet another nation with which to rig the vote.

Having said that, there is still three days to go, so we'll see what they do.

Beyond the Balkans, the Scandinavian nations are always a decent chance, especially if one of them decides to put up a Death Metal band in fancy dress troll costumes — such as enabled Finland to take out the prize in 2006.

It is worth noting that Georgia would have been considered a genuine threat, having taken out the 2008 Junior Eurovision Award.

However, it has withdrawn under controversial circumstances — with its chosen song deemed to have breached the competitions rules.

With the contested being held in Moscow (after the surprise Russian 2008 upset) this outrage can only be interpreted as a "Greater Russian" power play.

Under no circumstances put money on England.

As to how to watch it, there really is only one way: with large quantities or rum.

While actual footage may prove hard to come by, something tells me, Ms Boots, that, where you are, rum is one thing you'll find little difficulty laying your hands on.

Rum is the essential ingredient to enjoying Eurovision. Visual and audio from the actual contest are at best a useful addition, and some argue even a hindrance, to the evenings enjoyment.

Yours in the abuse of alcohol,
Carlo Sands (actually deceased — a long story)

A dystopian nightmare that speaks to our deepest fears

"I'm just gonna go home, lie down, and listen to country music. The music of pain."

So said a wounded Xander Harris.

Country music has always tended towards the sorrowful and downright depressing. The legendary Hank Williams, (the "granddaddy of 'em all" as it might, somewhat unfortunately, be put) is, after all, in the Guinness Book of Records for releasing the single greatest number of songs with the word "lonesome" in the title.

He is also in at least the top five for releasing songs with a title including the term "blues" — not uncommonly paired with "lonesome".

Sometimes the phrase "lovesick" is even thrown in for good effect.

Take, for example, this more or less standard Hank Williams number, entitled "Long Gone Lonesome Blues"

This is a song in which things are going so badly for the protagonist that he cannot even succeed in ending his agony via suicide.

While you need to hear Hank's trademark "yodel of pain" to fully appreciate the suffering implied by the song, the lyrics themselves give a taste.

It all starts innocently enough.

"I went down to the river to watch the fish swim by"

Perfectly natural, and sounds quite pleasant. What could possibly go wrong?

"But I got to the river so lonesome I wanted to die..., oh lord!"

Oh Jesus Christ indeed! How did that happen?

Talk about suffering a depressive episode. What is he, scared of fish? Then why did he go and watch them?

He must have known that would place him in a high-risk situation, in which the chances of suffering an attack of extreme anxiety would be quite heightened.

But it gets worse for our fishophobic depressive narrator.

"And then I jumped in the river, but the doggone river was dry."

When nothing goes right, nothing goes right. Not even suicide attempts to end the pain.

And the cause of all this?

"A man needs a woman that he can lean on"

Indeed, who could disagree? Assuming by woman you mean Johnny Depp.

"But my leanin' post is done left and gone"

Ah.

"Shes long gone, and now I'm lonesome blue"

No doubt.

Not one to be disheartened by a single failed attempt, Hank insists:

"I'm gonna find me a river, one thats cold as ice."

In case you have somehow missed the significance of the search, he adds:

"I'm goin down in it three times, but lord I'm only comin' up twice."

And people say the likes of Morrissey and Leonard Cohen are depressive.

Seriously, Hank Williams makes Ian Curtis and Kurt Cobain look like members of the Wiggles.

Since Hank's premature departure from the world of the living after he passed away in the backseat of a car after a difficult battle with alcohol and drug addiction (if only he gave some hint of that he was in trouble!), he has more or less provide a standardised template for the best of country music.

Pain, pain and more pain.

Mixed with a heavy lashing of heartache.

Nonetheless, no one has ever quite matched the utter despair put to three chords of Hank Williams with about the sole exception of the young and ridiculously angst-ridden Conor Oberst (best known for fronting Bright Eyes).

I give but two examples. "If Winter Ends", which contains the line "And I give myself three days to feel better, or else I swear I am driving off the fucking cliff".

Then there is this little number, entitled "It's Cool That We Can Still Be Friends". (Note, he is employing irony.)

The song does start quite innocently, as he pretends to be okay with the friendship status of the relationship he has with a former lover, only to build into a particularly extreme and disturbing expression of emotional pain.

At the height of this agonising, he sings/screams: "I'm pouring some whiskey, yeah I'm going to get so fucking drunk!"

Whatever the reason, I, of course, can not but approve.

Some fools grimace and label him absurdly self-pitying. I say Hank would be so fucking proud.

Young Conor himself notes the influence, singing in one song about a comment by his muse of sorts: "She said the best country singers die in the back of classic cars."

As to whether Oberst, already building a solid reputation as one fond of often extreme levels of alcohol abuse, intends to follow Williams through to that conclusion remains, at this point, unclear.

Now all of this is well and good, but I did actually have a point to this post. And now, somewhat belatedly, I seek to make it.

And it is simply this.

Country music is renowned for being depressing. However, at times it can be much, much more.

Sometimes, it can be down right frightening.

The song below depicts nothing less than a dystopian nightmare. One that speaks to the very heart of our deepest held fears.

It is one of the very few songs that sends a genuine chill right up my spine.

I am speaking of that truly terrifying horror-story-put-to music by ol' Merle Haggard, entitled "Tonight, The Bottle Let Me Down". (the best version, which for some reason has embedding disabled, can be found here)



"The one true friend I thought I had found ... tonight, the bottle, it let me down."

What a tale of treachery and betrayal. I tell you, if I ever find that bottle...

The song is just so, so goddamn sad.

Who is Carlo Sands? 25 things you never knew about the man behind the pint

There so many myths out there about the life of Carlo Sands.

His shady past, personal habits, love affairs, these things are speculated wildly about in the tabloids, online chat forums and scientific journals all over the world. Is he Rasputin's love child? Did he really go on a 25-year-long pear cider binge? And, is it true he has dumped Johnny Depp for Lily Allen?

The time has come to separate out fact from fiction. Based on one of those horrible Facebook "list" things that people insist on infecting their friends with, here are "25 things you never knew about the man behind the pint".

Tell your friends.

* * *

1. Carlo Sands is an alcoholic.

2. Carlo Sands likes to refer to himself in the third person. It makes him feel important.

3. Carlo Sands is not on speaking terms with his liver. He suspects the "generation gap" is to blame. His liver will enjoy its 90th birthday next weekend.

4. Carlo Sands was given two phone numbers for AA from a friend just the other day. He appreciates thought, but cannot attend the meetings as, worst luck, they clash with happy hour.

5. Carlo Sands does not have a drinking problem, 'cept when he can't get a drink.

6. He also likes to steal lyrics from Tom Waits and pass them off as his own original thoughts.

7. Carlo Sands believes strongly that work is the curse of the drinking class.

8. He also likes to take epigrams uttered by Oscar Wilde, and claim them as his own.

9. Carlo Sands beer consumption is such that he is the stimulus package. Kevin called him personally to discuss a bail-out of his budget to stave off the total meltdown of the Australian economy. In fact once, when he briefly threatened to stop drinking, the head of the Reserve Bank, the treasury department and a representative of the Chamber of Commerce staged an intervention to convince him the nation needed him at the pub.

10. Carlo Sands goes on regular health kicks, during which he goes out of his way to kick his health as hard as possible.

11. Carlo Sands' idea of looking after his health is to only smoke other people's cigarettes.

12. Carlo Sands' idea of looking after his finances is to only smoke other people's cigarettes.

13. Other people get pissed off when Carlo Sands smokes all their cigarettes.

14. Carlo Sands joined the Facebook group "Who is Carlo Sands?", even though he knows the answer.

15. Carlo Sands was once the subject of intense debate on a North American-based left-wing e-list. This is the highlight of his otherwise quite uneventful life, with the exception of his key role during the French Revolution.

16. Carlo Sands misses the guillotine. He thinks that, in the absence of the guillotine, it is hard to go past the garrotte.

17. Carlo Sands has been informed he is being seriously considered for this year's Nobel Peace Prize.

18. Carlo Sands has his own personal arch enemy, whom he believes to be the "anti-Carlo". His name is Ben Warren, he lives in Canberra and Carlo knows where he works. He runs a blog called "Get fit with Ben!".

19. Carlo Sands has currently two duels to the death on his agenda. The first of these is with a cad who chose aging as his weapon. Carlo looks forward to attending the cad's funeral but worries whether it will be bad taste to wear a triumphant grin. He has a second duel to be carried out after the first has been completed.

20. Carlo Sands likes duels.

21. Carlo Sands supports the Essendon Football Club, the Mighty Bombers. He finds the question posed by TISM in "Whatareya", of "Who is your favourite genius, James Hird or James Joyce?" strange. It is obviously James Hird.

22. Carlo Sands thinks that Lily Allen was easily "Person of 2008" for her very public champagne swilling drunkeness while hosting an awards ceremony and for telling Elton John to "fuck off" when he made a snide remark about it on stage with her. Unlike Lily, that man has no class.

22. Carlo Sands is engaged to be married to Lily Allen. However, this is top secret. And everyone knows that Lily Allen is good at keeping engagements secret. This is so that Johnny Depp, with whom Carlo Sands has had a complicated, off-and on again long-term relationship with, does not find out.

24. Carlo Sands is plotting to kill you all.

25. Carlo Sands' lawyer has advised him to make no further comment at this time.

So, which one is true?

Here we have two film clips.

They are by a band called Sonseed.

You can decide for yourself which of these clips is more likely to be literally true.

First up, "Jesus is my friend, I have a friend in Jesus".




Second, we have this version.





I do not wish to prejudice the case, but I feel obliged to note that personally, I think we have further evidence of the arguments I expounded in greater detail in relation to the case of the world's greatest ever Olympian, Michael Phelps.

And, while we are on this topic, here is a third version — easily the best of the three.