Join Me or DIE


As a Great Mongolian Warrior once said: 
Join me or Die
Researchers working for the GingerZilla Organisation for Nurture and Development in Science (G.O.N.A.D.S.) have discovered the shocking link between the Shamans of Antiquity and the Monsters of Rock: 
One of the more important sites is Bleeding Nose Shelter, where the paintings stand out richly against the white Sandstone. This was probably a ceremonial site, and subjects include eland, small antelope, rare paintings of birds and a whole variety of humans standing, dancing and shooting with bows. This site takes its name from a painting of a man in the shamanistic ‘trance’ state, with blood pouring from his nose, who is joined to his companions by Mystical Lines of Power*
But wait there's more:
When entering a trance, shamans often bleed from their nose and experience excruciating physical pain. The shamans’ arms stretch behind them as the transformation into the spirit world takes place. Scholars believe that the trance dance serves as the foundation for rock art. [Bushman and San Paintings in the Drakensberg - South Africa]
GingerZilla is in no way associated with BK but would like to visit on his next virtual holiday
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So now that I've established the history, here's the ground rules to join: 



  • I am your Leader. Always. There can be no other. I hear voices, I trust them more than the ones you hear.
  • True Metalheads know the value of drinking and rock. Good Rock melts (not melds) harmony and rhythm. Good grog melts brains. Bingo! We are members of the Bourbon Appreciation Society. If you try to buy me virtual glass, it will not be a virtual glass that I am smashing over your head. Barred!
  • There is a difference between your mate after a few too many bevvies shouting so he can be heard above the jukebox and a drunken prick screaming at you. Modern Metal has forgotten this value. Thank the Metal Gods for Mash-Ups that can salvage most situations from these tone deaf idiots. You must bow down to the Schmolli One and the late Aggro1 who have breathed life through metal.  The GingerZilla often impersonates them. Badly. 
  • Only I can interpret the words of the Prophets Bill and Bob. 
  • In my more lucid moments I appreciate the softer side of Rock. I appreciate the odd ballad as long as there is a mighty ball wrentching solo.  Therefore I have final say in what does or does not pass. I will be cruel to be kind. Live with it. 
  • I will have you go forth and demand more Metal bands release stems so I can abuse their work in my 21st Century Cover Versions. I can become Live After Death. I will breathe new life into Metal and our Fallen Warriors. It is the foundation of my core beliefs and I will make the world understand. Join me or Die as a Mongolian Warrior in Hollywood once said.  
  • You can abuse any Metal band as long as you back it up in an (il)logical funny way. It's about banter not ad hominem attacks. Better still record your OWN version as your attack - Mash-Ups, Remixes, Cover Versions (live or not) all count. YouTube, Soundcloud and Vimeo are your reference points. 
  • AC/DC until 1984, are subject to Censorship. Most things here are subject to censorship. I do it on aesthetic grounds. I hate the PMRC. I am full of contradictions. Welcome to my world. 
  • I make demands. I retract them at a later date when I form a better conspiracy. I like setting challenges and give no prizes only praise or not. You are seeking a different reward in my virtual heaven. Go forth. 
  • Fallen Prophets (terms and conditions apply) are those who have sucked on the scaly pecker. They deserve it now they have Sold Out. I hate when bands do that. So must you. The Prophet Bill sayeth so. So let it be written, so Let There Be Rock! 
I demand only certain things:


 


and the odd post if you can manage. If not, Lurking is appreciated. It is very useful in cult societies. I know this as I watch the occasional Hammer film. 


Imagine a state of nothingness. You are an embryonic Vincent Furnier. A spark of life is breathed through you by the Rock Gods. The thing inside you wakes and as you use your beak to peck through and out emerges horror. The Ego that is Alice Cooper. We were deceived with him because we thought he was strong, but he had a terrible weakness. Alcohol kept his soul pure but he turned sober by sucking on Satan's fat one. He sold out and he hasn't stopped since he got the taste in his mouth. I love some of his music but dude! If I see that in an Egg I terminate. I am unforgiving (not really but the delete button comes in handy sometimes). 

You shall be born or you shall be aborted on the quality of your Service through Laughter. Although as I have found I can be distracted by talent.


submissions [at] gingerzilla [dot] co [d0t] uk

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