MISSION STATEMENT ... To celebrate where it's deserved! ... To take the Michael out of institutions and individuals where it's deserved! ...
Recently I had occasion to prepare my gravestone epitaph:
GENE...
Educator, Novelist,
Humanitarian and Humorist
- TO KNOW HIM WAS TO LOVE HIM -
Rest in Peace
....... But while I am still walking the earth do not hesitate to contact me at:
bobbyslingshot8@gmail.com
Wednesday, 10 June 2026
Cuthbert and Julian
Those illustrations of Cuthbert and Julian seem to have made a big hit Gene. Herewith another.
Is this the "devastating satire" meant to make me cry myself to sleep, Gene? It looks more like the desperate barrel-scraping of an illiterate drunk with nothing to say.
Moreover, somewhere at the back of your crumbling mind is the nagging realisation that even had you something to say, your powers of expression are far too enfeebled to say it.
Did I not despise you it would be sad. As it is, it is delightful as well as funny. Gene Vincent, the modern McGonagall, finally revealed as he really is: a fifth rate mind reduced to cretinism by drink.
As I said, Groper, I have done with you - ie, I will never again waste time engaging with your bombastic bigotries or attempt to change the midden of bigotry that passes for your mind. Nor will I take any notice of your pretended interest in my family - your bogus attempt to humanise the nastiness and filth you have written about them in the past, so to that extent you can fuck off.
On the other hand, I will rip the piss out of you at a personal level with every chance I get.
"There will be no new posts published on Gene's blog from 22nd June until 15th of July 2026."
Tell us something new.
There have been no new posts published on this travesty these fifteen years.
It's been the same putrid gallimaufry of stupefyingly inept literary pretentiousness, mindless bigotry masquerading as Christian doctrine, viciously nasty and deceitful personal attacks on anyone who has the temerity to prove Gene wrong, and material plagiarised without acknowledgement from people who can actually write.
All of it applauded by a transparently bogus posse of sock puppets who help Gene "Groper" Vincent perform that most difficult of all gymnastic feats, the succulent and sycophantic kissing of his own arse.
It was the composer Brahms who advised that one should always play safe and praise music composed by a member of a royal family. This was because you never knew who might actually have written it.
Similarly one should always be cautious about praising anything in any of Gene “Groper” Vincent’s writing, particularly if it shows any trace of originality, wit, style or elegance.
If it’s any good at all, then you may be sure that he will have stolen it from a better writer - which in his case means everyone who has ever published anything.
The late Peter Cook used to refer to the late David Frost as “the bubonic plagiarist”. Gene, by the same token, deserves to be known as “the literary larcenist”.
SO: herewith two cases in point - two emails purportedly written to Gene "Groper" Vincent by the late literary genius Clive James. They arose because the Groper had lifted a passage from James's The North Face of Soho and passed it off as his own, and because this literary larceny was pointed out on the grounds given above - it was far too well written to have been produced by a literary neanderthal like the Groper.
The Groper's response consisted of these two fatuous pieces of flapdoodling balderdash, nonsensically purporting to be emails written by the late Mr James in praise of Gene's writing.
[1] Dated April 18th 2016 " Hi there Gene, Yes it's Clive James here. No worries about plagiarism Gene. I'm delighted you have used that quotation from my North Face of Soho memoir. As it happens many people seem to like the volume May Week was in June best, but I have a soft spot for North Face of Soho. I just love your blog, your writing style reminds me very much of my own. As I said no worries about plagiarism - it all comes under fair use in copyright law. And that's fair dinkum with me. This friend of yours Detterling seems weird cove. Love the way you take the Michael out of him. Back in school days he is the sort of fat kid that I would love to whang my donger at in Kogarah primary school back in Sydney. Love the way you have described him as the sort of man who would join in with the clap-hands Gloria in church. And the sort of man who would hang in his living room a Jack Vettriano print. Yes, I think we all get the picture. I liked very much the title of your new memoir: Heaven About us in our Infancy - the Sacred and profane memoirs from infancy to mid teens of Gene Vincent. Are you by any chance a fan of Brideshead Revisited? (Wonderful novel by the way, and those memories of Charles Ryder are indeed both sacred and profane.) Anyhow gene, wishing you all the best. She'll be right Blue. Tie me Kangaroo down Sport. Clive"
[2] Dated May 4th 2016: G'Day Gene, Yes it's Clive here again. I been reading through your blog. Boy can you write? Or Boy can you write? I note that you will become a full-time writer from 1st January 2017. Good on you cobber! Give it a burl. We need writers like you. As you know I may soon be shuffling off this mortal coil and it gives me a good feeling that someone such as yourself is around to ensure that good and original writing will continue. I have been absolutely enthralled by Granny Barkes fell in Woolworths. I don't know If you are aware but it is causing quite a buzz in literary circles. I love the way you handle metaphysical despair. And that ineffable way you have of communicating the effects of ennui. Sometimes I think you are something of an anachronism - that you have been born out of time. I can just see you back in 1920s Paris shooting the breeze at the left bank café tables with the likes of James Joyce, Ernest Hemingway, F Scott Fitzgerald, Ezra Pound, Gertrude Stein et al. Yesterday arvo I had a conversation about you with Germaine Greer (fine Sheila Germaine no matter what anyone says) and I told her to watch out for your star shooting through the literary firmament very soon. So, let's sink another tube of Fosters to you Gene.Tie me kangaroo down Sport. Keep me cockatoo cool. Clive [continued]
Gene "Groper" Vincent the Literary Larcenist Part II:
Note the pretentious - and totally meaningless - quasi literary jargon in the first "email", as well as the totally incongruous reference to "the clap hands Gloria" in church. What would the late Mr James, a lifelong and steadfast atheist, know about a trivial piece of Christian liturgical music? Note also, particularly in the second "email", the ridiculous attempt at Australian dialect, the clumsy use of the language of the Australian Ocker cult, a culture the late Mr James despised, as he despised professional Australians like the late Rolf Harris, later outed as a serial groper of young women and a paedophile. Is that why Gene admired the appalling Mr Harris enough to steal his song lyrics when pretending to be an Australian genius?
Not to mention that the notion of Mr James admiring a nosegay of literary turds like Granny Barkes shat her pants in The Good Yarn is beyond ludicrous; and add to this the fact that Mr James was dying of cancer when Gene wrote this abysmal crap - an example of the ironclad dreadfulness of his taste and manners, and you have here a good definition of literary sewage
A critical review of segments from one of Gene "Groper" Vincent's earliest literary crimes against prosody - "Gene Vincent - close up on a phenomenon". In this, the Groper, in the persona of a literary journalist "Libby Purvis", interviews himself and produces a cringingly awful, unintentionally hilarious wankfest of stomach-churningly overwrought self-approval.
Notably, it celebrates the Groper as a man of impeccably tasteful culture [no hints of furtive frottaging in deserted classrooms and empty corridors here, thank you very much] and wide and distinguised literary achievement. It hardly needs saying that the culture is entirely bogus and the literary achievements non-existent. This painfully extruded nonsense pre-dates "Granny Barkes pissed her knickers in Waitrose", and celebrates an imaginary novel "Heartbreak at Hillingdon High" which never got beyond a terrible first chapter.
The whole, deplorable mess is written in the Groper's uniquely dreadful prose style - laboured, pretentious and semi-literate, cobbling together half-understood borrowings from better writers uneasily laid end to end like literary Meccano.
Pitiful, Groper, except that I cannot find it in me to pity a bastard like you.
Admit it, Gene, you're at your wit's end, aren't you - not that that's any distance.
The interview with A N Wilson - you wouldn't dare...
The devastating satire by Swashfuckling Bullshittigan that was supposed to make me cry myself to sleep - you can't think of a single word to write that you haven't posted already, can you?
You're a busted flush, a burned out case, the dry heaves, the damp squid, the ultimate faked orgasm...it would be sad if it weren't so wonderfully funny.
"But the powers under the Parliament Act, which have only been used seven times in the last century, mean that if MPs pass an identical bill in two consecutive parliamentary sessions, peers cannot block it a second time.- would have allowed people over the age of 18 who were expected to die within six months to be given help to end their own life, subject to certain safeguards."
And who told you that, Gene?
And how you scoffed and derided, as you always do when you are presented with facts that you can't refute.
And why? because you are being lined up for yet another in your sequences of failed lost causes, Gene Vincent, the patron saint of self-deluding tossers, as witness this incredible piece of swollen-headed pomposity:
"Nil Desperandum all. They will have Gene to contend with!!!"
And Gene's participation will make the same difference to the outcome of his campaigns against abortion, same sex adoption and same sex marriage - that is, THE SQUARE ROOT OF FUCK ALL.
Is this the "devastating satire" meant to make me cry myself to sleep, Gene? It looks more like the desperate barrel-scraping of an illiterate drunk with nothing to say.
ReplyDeleteMoreover, somewhere at the back of your crumbling mind is the nagging realisation that even had you something to say, your powers of expression are far too enfeebled to say it.
Did I not despise you it would be sad. As it is, it is delightful as well as funny. Gene Vincent, the modern McGonagall, finally revealed as he really is: a fifth rate mind reduced to cretinism by drink.
Terrific Gene! I just love this banter and rip-roaring, rollicking good fun. You always brighten my day.
ReplyDeleteFrances 'Fanny' Dango
You’re not even kidding yourself, Groper. You’re burnt out, a busted flush, with a mind as shrivelled by alcohol as is your prick.
ReplyDeleteDetterling I wonder what Cuthbert and Julian think? My guess is that they are delighted with their new status as gay icons.
ReplyDeleteAnd by the way, how is their adopted little boy? How old is he now? He must surely be in this twenties.
All the best,
GENE
As I said, Groper, I have done with you - ie, I will never again waste time engaging with your bombastic bigotries or attempt to change the midden of bigotry that passes for your mind. Nor will I take any notice of your pretended interest in my family - your bogus attempt to humanise the nastiness and filth you have written about them in the past, so to that extent you can fuck off.
ReplyDeleteOn the other hand, I will rip the piss out of you at a personal level with every chance I get.
Got that, Groper?
Swashbuckling Mulligan = callous mawkish bungling.
ReplyDelete"There will be no new posts published on Gene's blog from 22nd June until 15th of July 2026."
ReplyDeleteTell us something new.
There have been no new posts published on this travesty these fifteen years.
It's been the same putrid gallimaufry of stupefyingly inept literary pretentiousness, mindless bigotry masquerading as Christian doctrine, viciously nasty and deceitful personal attacks on anyone who has the temerity to prove Gene wrong, and material plagiarised without acknowledgement from people who can actually write.
All of it applauded by a transparently bogus posse of sock puppets who help Gene "Groper" Vincent perform that most difficult of all gymnastic feats, the succulent and sycophantic kissing of his own arse.
Nothing new to see here.
It was the composer Brahms who advised that one should always play safe and praise music composed by a member of a royal family. This was because you never knew who might actually have written it.
ReplyDeleteSimilarly one should always be cautious about praising anything in any of Gene “Groper” Vincent’s writing, particularly if it shows any trace of originality, wit, style or elegance.
If it’s any good at all, then you may be sure that he will have stolen it from a better writer - which in his case means everyone who has ever published anything.
The late Peter Cook used to refer to the late David Frost as “the bubonic plagiarist”. Gene, by the same token, deserves to be known as “the literary larcenist”.
SO: herewith two cases in point - two emails purportedly written to Gene "Groper" Vincent by the late literary genius Clive James. They arose because the Groper had lifted a passage from James's The North Face of Soho and passed it off as his own, and because this literary larceny was pointed out on the grounds given above - it was far too well written to have been produced by a literary neanderthal like the Groper.
ReplyDeleteThe Groper's response consisted of these two fatuous pieces of flapdoodling balderdash, nonsensically purporting to be emails written by the late Mr James in praise of Gene's writing.
[1] Dated April 18th 2016 " Hi there Gene, Yes it's Clive James here. No worries about plagiarism Gene. I'm delighted you have used that quotation from my North Face of Soho memoir. As it happens many people seem to like the volume May Week was in June best, but I have a soft spot for North Face of Soho. I just love your blog, your writing style reminds me very much of my own. As I said no worries about plagiarism - it all comes under fair use in copyright law. And that's fair dinkum with me. This friend of yours Detterling seems weird cove. Love the way you take the Michael out of him. Back in school days he is the sort of fat kid that I would love to whang my donger at in Kogarah primary school back in Sydney. Love the way you have described him as the sort of man who would join in with the clap-hands Gloria in church. And the sort of man who would hang in his living room a Jack Vettriano print. Yes, I think we all get the picture. I liked very much the title of your new memoir: Heaven About us in our Infancy - the Sacred and profane memoirs from infancy to mid teens of Gene Vincent. Are you by any chance a fan of Brideshead Revisited? (Wonderful novel by the way, and those memories of Charles Ryder are indeed both sacred and profane.)
Anyhow gene, wishing you all the best. She'll be right Blue. Tie me Kangaroo down Sport.
Clive"
[2] Dated May 4th 2016: G'Day Gene, Yes it's Clive here again. I been reading through your blog. Boy can you write? Or Boy can you write?
I note that you will become a full-time writer from 1st January 2017. Good on you cobber! Give it a burl. We need writers like you. As you know I may soon be shuffling off this mortal coil and it gives me a good feeling that someone such as yourself is around to ensure that good and original writing will continue. I have been absolutely enthralled by Granny Barkes fell in Woolworths. I don't know If you are aware but it is causing quite a buzz in literary circles. I love the way you handle metaphysical despair. And that ineffable way you have of communicating the effects of ennui. Sometimes I think you are something of an anachronism - that you have been born out of time. I can just see you back in 1920s Paris shooting the breeze at the left bank café tables with the likes of James Joyce, Ernest Hemingway, F Scott Fitzgerald, Ezra Pound, Gertrude Stein et al. Yesterday arvo I had a conversation about you with Germaine Greer (fine Sheila Germaine no matter what anyone says) and I told her to watch out for your star shooting through the literary firmament very soon. So, let's sink another tube of Fosters to you Gene.Tie me kangaroo down Sport. Keep me cockatoo cool.
Clive
[continued]
Gene "Groper" Vincent the Literary Larcenist Part II:
DeleteNote the pretentious - and totally meaningless - quasi literary jargon in the first "email", as well as the totally incongruous reference to "the clap hands Gloria" in church. What would the late Mr James, a lifelong and steadfast atheist, know about a trivial piece of Christian liturgical music? Note also, particularly in the second "email", the ridiculous attempt at Australian dialect, the clumsy use of the language of the Australian Ocker cult, a culture the late Mr James despised, as he despised professional Australians like the late Rolf Harris, later outed as a serial groper of young women and a paedophile. Is that why Gene admired the appalling Mr Harris enough to steal his song lyrics when pretending to be an Australian genius?
Not to mention that the notion of Mr James admiring a nosegay of literary turds like Granny Barkes shat her pants in The Good Yarn is beyond ludicrous; and add to this the fact that Mr James was dying of cancer when Gene wrote this abysmal crap - an example of the ironclad dreadfulness of his taste and manners, and you have here a good definition of literary sewage
AND COMING SOON...
ReplyDeleteA critical review of segments from one of Gene "Groper" Vincent's earliest literary crimes against prosody - "Gene Vincent - close up on a phenomenon". In this, the Groper, in the persona of a literary journalist "Libby Purvis", interviews himself and produces a cringingly awful, unintentionally hilarious wankfest of stomach-churningly overwrought self-approval.
Notably, it celebrates the Groper as a man of impeccably tasteful culture [no hints of furtive frottaging in deserted classrooms and empty corridors here, thank you very much] and wide and distinguised literary achievement. It hardly needs saying that the culture is entirely bogus and the literary achievements non-existent. This painfully extruded nonsense pre-dates "Granny Barkes pissed her knickers in Waitrose", and celebrates an imaginary novel "Heartbreak at Hillingdon High" which never got beyond a terrible first chapter.
The whole, deplorable mess is written in the Groper's uniquely dreadful prose style - laboured, pretentious and semi-literate, cobbling together half-understood borrowings from better writers uneasily laid end to end like literary Meccano.
WATCH THIS SPACE...
Tie me kangaroo down Sport. Keep me cockatoo cool.
ReplyDeleteGene
Pitiful, Groper, except that I cannot find it in me to pity a bastard like you.
DeleteAdmit it, Gene, you're at your wit's end, aren't you - not that that's any distance.
The interview with A N Wilson - you wouldn't dare...
The devastating satire by Swashfuckling Bullshittigan that was supposed to make me cry myself to sleep - you can't think of a single word to write that you haven't posted already, can you?
You're a busted flush, a burned out case, the dry heaves, the damp squid, the ultimate faked orgasm...it would be sad if it weren't so wonderfully funny.
"But the powers under the Parliament Act, which have only been used seven times in the last century, mean that if MPs pass an identical bill in two consecutive parliamentary sessions, peers cannot block it a second time.- would have allowed people over the age of 18 who were expected to die within six months to be given help to end their own life, subject to certain safeguards."
ReplyDeleteAnd who told you that, Gene?
And how you scoffed and derided, as you always do when you are presented with facts that you can't refute.
And why? because you are being lined up for yet another in your sequences of failed lost causes, Gene Vincent, the patron saint of self-deluding tossers, as witness this incredible piece of swollen-headed pomposity:
"Nil Desperandum all. They will have Gene to contend with!!!"
And Gene's participation will make the same difference to the outcome of his campaigns against abortion, same sex adoption and same sex marriage - that is, THE SQUARE ROOT OF FUCK ALL.