Bringing Metal To The Children: The Complete Berserker’s Guide to World Tour Domination. Rob Zombie

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СКАЧАТЬ I believe in Jesus and everything he represents. Having compassion for others, giving to those who are less fortunate, protecting the innocent, empowering others as opposed to enslaving, making sacrifices for the benefit of others, and bringing someone other than yourself happiness. And through Jesus, the crucifix represents unconquerable and everlasting strength, sacrifice, blood, commitment, and faith in all that is good. Then I just ask the good Lord, why have you put JDesus in my life? Why? Why, beloved Father? Why?

      Now, if your religious leader tells you to go out and murder a bunch of innocent people because they think the Stones are better than the Beatles, or that Lady Gaga can bench-press more than Madonna could when she was the same age—try to stay away from this religion. As history has shown, in the poker game of life, when you try to explain to a judge that your religious leader told you to murder innocent people over a Stones vs. Beatles debate, you will usually find that the law carries a royal flush over your religious leader. If you need any proof, ask the Manson girls—as their long-awaited album and tour has been pushed back so many times at each passing year’s parole meeting. It makes Geffen Records look like they got off easy with Chinese Democracy.

      The next religion I would try to persuade you to stay away from would be the one where the religious leader tells everybody that a meteor is coming to take us all away. But before we jump on board the meteor to go to the promised land where the McDonald’s two-for-one is eternally on, we each have to put a Hefty bag over our head and seal it around our neck, suffocating us, while we slice off our fucking genitals! Now, this religion and religious leader can put a goliath fucking damper on all of your rock ’n’ roll dreams. For not just one but four terrible reasons:

      

      1. Putting a Hefty bag over your head to snuff the life out of you is bad.

      2. What happens if your favorite football team is making a push for the play-offs after several bad seasons?

      3. You find out that Carvel ice cream is reintroducing the legendary ice cream cake that is Cookie Puss.

      4. Your wife tells you she wants to do the threesome with her girlfriend who you think is slammin’.

      Well, guess what? Forget your football team holding up the Lombardi trophy. Forget having that crazy birthday party with all of your friends while enjoying Cookie Puss. And definitely forget about throwing back some Viagra and pounding and dominating the living shit out of your slammin’ wife and her hot girlfriend. You ain’t got no cock and balls, you dumb motherfucker! Oh, and another thing, Einstein—you’re fucking dead.

      In the end, find a religion that enriches your life and the lives of others and try to avoid religious leaders who land you in jail for thirty years to life. It is also advisable to keep sharp objects away from your genitals—they don’t like that.

      Determination only comes with you straight out of the womb. You can’t learn determination. You either have it or you don’t. That’s why as hard as I try to beat it senselessly into JD’s body, I’ll never be successful. His body is already full, but with holes and emptiness that befuddle all laws of physics. Just like you can’t fill a colander with water, you also can’t fill JD’s body with an ounce of determination. Whereas the Black Label creed is stronger than death, JD’s is weaker than life. His heartless, soulless, lifeless, and friendless existence is an astonishing anomaly that will always amaze me.

      That being said, the two most determined guys on the planet I’ve ever known are my father and Ozzy. These are two guys who lead by example and who’ve been there, done that. They had their asses handed to them repeatedly and never played the role of a victim. Instead, they said, “Fuck this,” and never stopped pushing forward. If I ever needed advice in my life I could always look up to Dad or Oz—and that advice would always be, “Start drinking heavily until the pain subsides, only to awaken sober, realizing that you’re in a rock band with a wife and three children who you need to provide for. Then keep drinking, trying not to remind yourself how much your wife and children are going to cost you, continually asking yourself why you couldn’t have taken up another hobby, such as basket-weaving or crochet.”

      You think I’m fucking kidding? That’s what they both actually told me. After that, they asked me to lean a little closer toward them, and then poked me in the fucking eye. Blinded and confused, I asked my wise elders, as they stood there laughing at my misfortune, “Why did you do that?” And they answered, “We’re not really sure either. It fuckin’ hurts though, doesn’t it?”

      I started listening to Ozzy’s music when I was twelve years old. If I had a crappy day at school or whatever, I could get off the school bus, go home, and listen to Sabbath albums, and it would just lift my spirit. Then I would come crashing back down to earth when I realized I was actually forty-four years old and still living at home with my mommy and dada, plus the rude awakening that my allowance hadn’t gone up since I was twenty-eight. So Ozzy’s actually been a part of my life the whole time, far before we ever met or started jamming together.

      I’ve seen it a thousand times in my life: The musicians who were determined and had faith became successful, and those who were only looking for a paycheck are no longer around. When I actually auditioned for Ozzy, back when I was nineteen years old, some of the other guys trying out were a lot older than me. They were waiting their turn, saying, “I hear the gig pays pretty well . . . ,” and shit like that. That was the whole motivation for their being there. I would have taken the gig with no pay. I had shrines back home dedicated to Ozzy, Randy, and Black Sabbath. So when I realized that a slew of guys were there looking only for a payday, my attitude changed from nervous to “Fuck those guys, I’m going to get this gig!”

      The first time I ever sat down with Ozzy he set me at ease. He said, “Zakk, just play with your heart, man, that’s all I want you to do.” His next piece of advice was for me to go into the kitchen and make him a ham sandwich. “And don’t fuck it up by going in heavy with the mustard,” he counseled me. I took his musical words of wisdom, and his instructions for the perfect lunch, to heart. With these treasures and my love of the music, I landed a gig that changed my life forever.

      Determination: You can’t manufacture that shit, it’s gotta come from the heart. A lion doesn’t choose to be a lion, that’s just what he is. He knows what’s expected of him, and he gets it fuckin’ done. Kind of like JD—we expect nothing from him and that’s exactly what we get.

      Merciless—to me Merciless means to be relentless in your pursuit, whether it’s for the love of your wife and kids, or for your passions and goals. You never give up on what’s important to you. If you want your band to be successful, or if you want to open the best fucking ham sandwich deli in town, you need to be Merciless in that quest. Just make sure you don’t go in heavy with the mustard—words of wisdom from the Sandwich Tao of Oz.

      Black Label Society is going to continue to make records and will never stop kicking ass and tearing across the globe like a nuclear assault vehicle . . . Fuck it—MERCILESS!

      If I have to light myself on fire and eat my own shit onstage to outdo the other bands . . . Fuck it—MERCILESS!

      If I have to get one more sex change after the three I’ve already undergone to keep selling Black Label records . . . Fuck it—MERCILESS!

      If I gotta hang a forty-pound plate from my labia majora to impress some record company executive, if that’s what it takes to keep moving the Black Label Armada forward . . . Fuck it—MERCILESS!

      If while doing those special engagement Black Label family meet-and-greets I have to rub all my fans’ shoulders and then finish them off with a happy ending . . . Fuck it—MERCILESS! (Remember—it keeps the vocal cords lubed anyway! Stay positive!)

      On СКАЧАТЬ