Rob Smith returns in a surprise post to lament the surprise end of the blog known as GrodsCorp. Why he felt the need to write such a post to save me the effort, I don’t know. Maybe he thinks I’m too serious. Maybe he’ll enlighten us in this, his third post.
Hi folks. You probably remember me from my fabulous first post to this blog – How to talk to an arrogant New Atheist. If not, here’s the rundown on my bio.
I’m a part-time youth group leader at The Uniting Church Way of The Blessed Tree, a part-time external theology student studying at the Sydney Theology of Faith University (STFU). In my spare time I run the unofficial, non-profit organisation known as Hymns for Neglected Greyhounds, and now on Friday nights I can be found with my re-united Stryper tribute band, Stripes, playing all new material we made ourselves.
Of course, I’m also a blogger now. 😀
Why would I write a tribute post to an atheistic blog that I’ve never commented at? Read on and you’ll find out!
[Rob has posted ribald lyrics, so it’s all over the fold. I don’t endorse any of it. – Ed.]
A Farewell to Grods (or ‘My time as a secret Grodster’)
I’ve secretly been reading GrodsCorp for the last three years, not commenting but getting a laugh all the same. Grods was a funny old blog.
Oh the trouble it would get itself into by pushing people’s buttons. Tim Blair, Andrew Bolt, Iain Hall, Leon Bertrand QC and Bo Derek all had a fair share of bile to fire back at Scott and his gang of trolls. [I’m not sure this account of events is entirely accurate, Rob. – Ed.]
It wasn’t a civilised, Socratic dialogue by any stroke of the imagination, but that didn’t matter. Discussion of The Iraq War, Islamophobia, The Howard Years, blog wars and so on, never brings out the best in people. Except where laughs are concerned. Then Grods was in its element. It’s nasty element, if you take Helen 3D to heart.
The anti-Pentecostal bigotry did get to be a bit much a times though. Sure, Fielding as an MP is a bit of a buffoon. His cherry picked climate change graph, his divorce-climate change correlation, his confected senate speeches, his support for the VSU, his ANZAC Day self-obsession, his “horsing around” public relations video, his “bong suit”, his swine flu lunacy, his ambitions for the mandatory Internet filter, his party and even his gooberish face, all yell “clown.”
But does anyone have to make fun of him for being Pentecostal? Sheesh! We’re in a tolerant, pluralistic society! There’s no call for bigoted secular fundamentalism! :O
But I digress. My Mum always said if you can’t say anything good about people… Again, I digress.
I’ll miss Scott’s take-downs of other blogger’s bad spelling and grammar. I’ll miss John Surname’s rebuttals to global warming conspiracy theories. I’ll miss Bron’s occasional film clip and criticisms of racism. I’ll miss Ant’s Ginger Beer recipe and his legendary take-down of Christopher Hitchens. I’ll miss Bridgit’s making fun of stupid people.
I’ll miss the caption competitions, the Fleshlights, the peggings, the reach-arounds. I’ll miss Joe the GrodsCorp mascot. I’ll miss the legal threats from lawyers, and the legal threats from bloggers. I’ll miss the search for Joe Hockey, missing in action. I’ll miss the sniggers when someone says “Goatse”, whatever that is.
But most of all, I’ll miss the effect Grods has had on my mate Bruce.
Back when I first met him, Bruce was a funny guy. I was just learning to mellow and put aside my Baptist, literalistic ways, while Bruce was learning to mellow and not sin and blaspheme so much against Baptists – we met at a crossroads.
Talking with him back then was like listening to an endless string of double entendres. People would laugh. People would get offended. Guys would take up arms and defend their sister’s honor.
Meg Ryan had nothing on his Hindley Street Pizza Hut, all-you-can-eat-lunch, live orgasm scene.
But then hard work, industrial chemicals, bad neighbours, responsibility and injury all came crashing down on him. You think Bruce is bad at comedy now? You should have seen him in the late 90s. Fhew! What a pathetic mess! Too damn right he was (and frankly still is) far too serious!
And that crap he wrote at Bruce’s Rave and Rant. What ever made him think that stuff was funny?
Only over the last couple of years, thanks to GrodsCorp, has Bruce finally begun to come out of his stress induced lack of humor. It’s like watching someone with a broken back learn to start walking again. Except it’s a broken funny bone and GrodsCorp is the therapist.
But now the therapist has gone, and Bruce never quite learned to walk properly again. And if he does every learn to walk for himself again, he’ll look like some kid with polio. Damn you GrodsCorp! Why did you leave him!?!
Seriously, though folks. Bruce is okay. He’s just normally unfunny like the rest of you, his glory days behind him (like most of the rest of you.)
All the same, the blogosphere, nay COMEDY, will never be the same again.
In honor of GrodsCorp, I’ve written a song which I’ll be performing lounge style (ala Richard Cheese) at the church hall this Friday night. Just look for the driveway with the panel van off Chain of Ponds Road in the Adelaide hills.
If you print off the lyrics, you can come and sing along.
And now, the end is here;
And I face litigation certain.
Grodsters, it’s coming near,
Oh, seems that I’m, in for a hurtin’.
I wrote a blog that’s full.
I chose to take the very low way;
And more, much more than this,
I did it Grods’ way.
Complaints, more than a few;
And more again, with much vexation.
I did what I want to do
And rammed it through, with lubrication.
Watched Fielding on his horse;
Lined up then screwed him sideways,
But more, much more than this,
I did him Grods’ way.
Yes, there were times, rolled eyes and moaning
When forced to watch, all Leon’s self-pwning.
But through it all, there was no doubt,
That at clowning, these guys had clout.
Laughed at Mr. Hall, so hard I’d fall;
And I did it Grods’ way.
I wrote, I blogged and warred.
Won many battles; I’ve blogged with might.
And now, with enemies gored,
I wield my trusty Fleshlight.
On all the blogs I shat;
And may I say – not in a shy way,
Yes, it was all me,
I did it Grods’ way.
For what is a blog, if not for war?
If not that then, then truly poor.
Like a man thrust down on knees;
In the woods pegged beneath the trees.
The record shows, I’m not the one to blow –
And I did it Grods’ way!
Thank you ladies and gents, the salad bar will be open until nine when happy hour commences. Have a good evening and be sure to buy our CD on the way out.
[Editor’s note: Should I be telling Rob that his fifteen minutes ended the other week? His stats – not so good anymore.]