(sorry, Lewis. I’ll explain later..)
Even the most inexperienced of psychologists would have a field day with Phudd/Black To Comm publisher/legend in his own mind Chris Stigliano’s intense fixation over what other men put in their mouths and/or rec rooms. And it’s a shame, because when he’s not risking shoulder separation patting himself on the back, fantasizing about conspiracies that never were or proposing marriage to his mom’s corpse beating off to Harriet Nelson, Stig’s got more musical knowledge, insight and (forgive me if this sound FRUITY, Chris) good taste than the majority of his peers from a generation ago (to say nothing of today’s cut & paste/embed enthusiasts who lack the requisite curiosity or imagination to even get a namecheck here).
All of which adds to the entertainment for me, that a zine grudge of a quarter century ago (CONFESSION : I MADE FUN OF THE GUY. MORE THAN ONCE) led to a borderline fatwa (though maybe wishing cancer and death upon someone you dislike is Stig’s idea of a laff riot, too). Stig is of the opinion that being called out for his takes on social matters (let’s just say he’s somewhere to the right of Adolf Hitler Archie Bunker) constituted an orchestrated campaign to black ball (again, sorry for the imagery, Chris) him from the zine world glitterati and all the glamour and riches that accompany it.
Not only have I never wielded such influence, if I did, don’t you think I would’ve had Steve Blush disappeared first? But really, no fuckin’ fooling, Stigliano believes there’s an actual cabal of P.C. Thought Cops who cock blocked (shit, there we go again) his inevitable ascent…to what exactly? At least the dude’s still writing about non-garbage music in 2015, which is more than most of his more successful (?) contemporaries can claim. On the other hand, most of those contemporaries reside on PLANET EARTH (and some might’ve actually brought something new to the table over the last quarter century)
Anyhow, I genuinely wish Mr. Stigliano continued success in carefully chronicling his own achievements, particularly if these amazing stores are confined to a (barely trafficked) blog. The notion of Stig taking a worldview as deeply delusional as it is homophobic to the podcast medium just wouldn’t be right. After all, Dino Costa was there first!
Hey GC, well of course you sent me on a quick fishing expedition to see if I TOO had cancer wished upon me by Mr. Stigliano, and it turns out I recently had!
That said, as someone who didn’t know that his blog was still active, I caught up by running a quick search of mentions of my last name to see if his long-held grudge against me was, in fact, still being held. (He told me he’d stop the malarkey once “he got his pound of flesh”). My name was never evoked as much as that of “Gerard Cosloy”, but boy did he have a real time w/ me back around 2005.
So here’s what I found:
2015 – only 2 mentions, including one that wished cancer upon me (and you!)
2014 – 2 mentions
2013 – none!
2012 – none!
2011 – 1
2010 – 13 mentions
2009 and older – I had to go back to work, and couldn’t count that high anyway. More than 13 per year for certain.
So the pound of flesh appeared to have been extracted around 2011/2012, then regurgitated, and now we’re trending upward again with six weeks to go in 2015.
I’m going to assume your Stigliano ill-wishing count runs circles around mine – I mean, I remember you being tarred & feathered for crimes real or imagined way PRE-INTERNET – but I thought you might like to know.