Fantômas (aka Mike Patton is a genius, part three of many)

So I am sitting around, thinking to myself about what I am going to write next, and I think to myself “you know, Dean, you have just written about a piece of art that you enjoy by counting and laughing at all of the mistakes, so why not try writing about something you consider good or even great?”. And since I have not written about the recently-realised genius that Michael Allan Patton has been displaying over the last ten to fifteen years, why not?

Revisiting the classics: Faith No More – Angel Dust

I make no secret of this fact. I am getting old. And I do not merely mean old in the sense that I am now not young enough to see any novelty in being granted the privilege of voting in subtly rigged elections or buying my own vodka. I mean old in the sense that I see Death standing across the road from me, waving a hand, and promising that he will see me soon. I mean old in the sense that when he does this, I ask him if he can make it quick and at least relatively painless. I do not want to live in a normalistic world run by the kind of morons my grandfather would happily have lined up against a wall and shot, thanks very much.