Rot In Hell, Fred

I am usually inclined not to speak ill of the dead or to gleefully await someone’s demise, but there are exceptions to any rule. Fred Phelps of Westboro Baptist Churchinfamy is an exceptionally egregious exception to that rule. His only claim to fame is being pastor of the homophobic cultish church that protests at people’s funerals. The lowest form of protest imaginable.

Contemplating his passing makes me want to dance a jig, piss on his grave, and/or flush his ashes down the terlet. Of course, the latter would pollute the sewer and some poor Ed Norton bastard would have to clean it up so maybe not.

The news has given me an earworm. It comes from the 1970 Procol Harum album, Home. All the songs are about alcoholism, death, and self-loathing. And lyricist Keith Reid really nailed the themes too, y’all. Still There’ll Be More is one of the nastiest, most vindictive songs I can think of. The lyrics are vicious, misanthropic, and appropriate for a human shitstain like Fred Fucking Phelps:

On a postive note I showed a live version so you could see the superb technique of drummer BJ Wilson. Just a pity that Robin Trower had left the band before that appearance. Trower did, however, co-write a song about death for the album: