By P Blood
Lady Gaga is coming to SA.
With the Born This Way Ball already netting in excess of $45 million, whoever controls where The Face of Fag-hags In The 2010’s goes, decided it would be great to send her to Joburg and Kaapstad later this year.
Not hugely exciting for me. I’ve seen her music videos, heard a couple songs and I’m not especially moved in anyway. I didn’t think very highly of that Poker Face song. It would have made a better parody called Poke Her Face… You’d agree if you had seen the list of things I wrote down to poke girls in the face with for the video. It was a long list…
Reactions to the news have been nothing short of extreme.
All the Little Monsters (as they’re called) ridiculed Computicket something terrible for their inability to handle traffic, and have been rather sulky that they couldn’t get their glitter-covered hands on tickets right away.
I tend to agree. Bombing out whenever a big draw artist announces their plans to play here is just too typical in our service delivery deficient country. We won’t take it anymore! You hear me Computicket!? If I want to pay you in excess of R500 for something as extravagant as concert ticket, do me the pleasure of being able to take my damn money when I want!
Many comments from non-Gaga fans have proclaimed that she is evil – worshiping Satan evil – and unwelcome on our shores.
After a very quick Google search I found that this was totally true. Lady Gaga is Satanic, and makes Satanic music, according to numerous sources across the interwebs.
This is hugely worrisome. What kind of world do we live in these days? I mean, what about all those bands who have openly worshiped the dark lord in their lyrics, iconography and actions for years? Where are all the websites and bloggers proclaiming them as evil and satanic?
When did a bottle blonde Catholic girl suddenly become a general in Lucifer’s army?
Robert Johnson sold his soul to a pale guy at the crossroads to play the blues in the 1930s. Johnny Rotten proclaimed he was the Antichrist right out the gates, on their first album back in the 1970s. Metal bands have been drinking red wine, burning down churches and swinging dirty long hair all over, wearing pentagrams since the 1980s. Bad Religion’s logo is the Peter Cross with a big red bar over it. Marilyn Manson dressed up like the pope, a nun and worse, and everyone’s almost forgotten about him already.
All of these people are far better candidates for agents of the archfiend! Lady Gaga is just a fashion accident that likes to play around with religious iconography. She doesn’t even have the decency to call herself a bloody sister of Satan’s church!
It just isn’t fair. Far more deserving artists have all been proclaiming they’re going to be the ones to lead the world down to hell and the title has suddenly been swiped away from under them by some pop singer!
Who the hell is in charge here? This silly girl in her meat dresses, Kinder Joy eggs and videos with the guy from The Boondock Saints can fuck right off.
If I was any kind of person to get off my couch/bed/barstool, I would rally the proper candle lighting, goat sacrificing, nutjobs and make it known that Lady Gaga, aka The Charlatan, does not speak for their little black souls.
I called up a Goth mate and asked him, “Is Lady Gaga your satanic leader?” He said, and I quote, “Fuck off. Don’t call me with bullshit.” and hung up. That is from one of the creepiest people I know.
Then I called up this card-carrying jock chick I found on facebook. She goes to rugby, listens to Nickleback, hasn’t seen the original Star Wars trilogy and she said she, “Ehhhhh, so excited! I luff Lady Gaga! Totes going on a road trip to see her.” To make doubly sure, I called her back and breathed heavily in to the phone and she didn’t like that at all. So she’s definitely not in to Satan, just shitty vapid pop music.
So, to all those ignorant, sheltered, doomsday prophesying people claiming that Lady Gaga, Mother Monster, is in bed with the devil: Spare a thought to those more deserving, and who actually are trying to get their lips around the baddest baddy’s cock ring.
Suffering from an inexplicably large ego and ignoring common courtesy, Mr P. Blood indulges his opinions about whatever comes to his cesspool of a mind, and strangely people don’t seem to hate him for it. Making him a writer, of sorts.