Question: What the fuck had we just experienced?

Answer: A freakish hell-ride through the deranged mind of a psychotic fantasist named Eric Carmen.

Just watch. Just watch.

As he sits in his grimly stylish industrial apartment, watching snuff-core porn flicks like a lunatic 80s yuppie version of Mark Lewis (from Peeping Tom), Eric dreams of a lovely lady who he'll stare (madly) at with his "hungry eyes". Did I say hungry eyes? I clearly meant rapey eyes. He's got rapey eyes. Just look at him. And listen to him.

I've been meaning to tell you,
I've got this feelin' that won't subside.

Yes, Eric. This feeling is called "murderous blood lust". I wouldn't tell anyone. I'd keep it to yourself.

Now I've got you in my sights.

Note – "sights". As in "the sights of my Mauser 86 SR sniper rifle".

It gets worse…

With these – hungry eyes,
now I can take you by surprise.

I mean, come on! Take? By surprise (in a darkened alley)? Brett Easton Fecking Eliis would struggle to come up with a sustained rape fantasy this grotesque.

1:44 on is my "favourite" bit. Eric louchely leans against a nightclub (or whatever) door as fantasy lady outrageously whips her come-hither (and rape me) hair about in the sexy rain. In reality, she was probably just waiting for a bus, dressed normally. On her way home from work. Eric's bulging and "hungry" eyes see what they want to see…and force us to see it too. It's fucking terrifying.

Oh and then there's the bit where she becomes 100 feet tall and wails out a sax solo. And the bit where she makes out with Stan Lee before becoming Asian.

I need to lie down…

Christmas is coming! It cannot be stopped! It will kill us all! Aaaaaarrrgggh!!!

It's been one of those years. Economy? Dead. Hope? Dead. Michael Jackson? Dead. Karl Malden? Dead. Patrick Swayze? Dead. Konstantin Feoktistov; Danny La Rue; Jeremy Clarkson? Dead, dead, and still fucking alive. 2009. A year destined to end in tears. A year that'll have your eye out.

But wait. Set aside the vodka and barbiturates for a moment. Pop the "End is Nigh" sandwich-board back under the stairs. In the midst of this thick fog of despair and tooth-gnashing there are still oases of joy and wonder. Well…an oasis at least. Singular (but, y'know, it's better than nothing).

On Friday, 11th of December - two weeks after its tedious, official twin bores the knickerbockers off the nation – the 3rd annual Manky Toy Show will be broadcast live from fústar HQ. The format will, in the great tradition of…great traditions, be almost exactly the same as the previous two years. Booze, shit toys, spontaneous analysis, exhaustion. You're all invited. Every last sad & stinking one of you.

The vibe is (as always) – interactive. So here's what I need you to do. a) Go forth and purchase a manky toy for less than 5 Euro (budget stretched for special occasion); b) Take some pictures of said toy and write some words about its shitness (or its charm); c) Send said pictures and words to me. I will do the rest.

Oh and don't forget to actually turn up at 9 PM on the evening in question. Otherwise I'll be here pitching my A-material to an empty hall. Like a sad and deluded fantasist. Unwrapping Transformer knock-offs as the world falls apart. *sniff*

Related Posts:
None for Anyone in the Audience: The 2008 Manky Toy Show – Live!
To Whom it Concerns…It’s The Manky Toy Show (Live)! [2007]