I can not possibly describe to what extent I appreciate Monty Python. I remember seeing Holy Grail as a kid, it was late night and I had not a vaguest idea of what I was watching. It was about six or seven years later when I actually found out that the brilliant, intelligent, metaphysical flow of images and ideas had been Monty Python's Holy Grail. Still it had already affected me in a million ways. The metaphysical, self-commenting, ontological jokes fitted my already fucked up mentality just perfectly. I finally felt connected with the world. There we're people that had been as silly and clever as I felt I had always been, and that gave me hope. I kept on drawing and writing strange stuff, and I have ever since. When I found the rest of the Pythonian scale, it just filled my mind with all the missing pieces. It is the form of true freedom. Nothing is holy, nothing is sacred, not even the jokes themselves. They are the first ones to go, when they are about to shoot someone, and that is probably the greatest thing about the Monty Python's Flying Circus. It is bright and colorful surreal explosion, and if my kid does not laugh to fish slapping dance the first time he or she happens to see it, I think I have to give him or her away. Maybe some strange Norwegian housebuilder's guild will adopt him or her and raise him or her as their own. He or she will become a greatest of all the great Norwegian housebuilders, and he or she will build a house that will make all the other houses on the same estate agency look like some cheap Thailand bungalows. And I have a reason to be proud of him or her.
But yeah, it has affected me and my sense of visual "things" and rhythm and flow deeply. I am damaged for life. Maybe I should sue them all. "Dear sirs of Monty Python's Flying Circus. Becouse of some funny and silly things you did almost a century ago, my young mind has been deeply scarred, and I have had to live my life as a social reject and with any chance of parole denied. I am writing you this letter hoping it'll catch your attention and let you know that I have no sense of purpose in this world, I have started to even doubt my own existence in this world built on dualist values, but only concrete material, if we leave out all the small, almost surely non-existant particles some nerds claim to pummel through our bodies every second. I just wanted to let you know that you have completely ruined my life, and I want to thank you for it, sincerely yours, these fingers that run across the keyboard, and seem to have a some sort of personality installed all the way up their asses."
Just wanted to let you all know this in case ou happen to buy a Cut To Fit album at some point of your lives, and find it somewhat confusing. It's all becouse of these silly british persons, that have wounded me like the ants wound the wolves. Which would make an great song title by the way. Like The Ants Wound The Wolves. Fuck, I'm gonna write that down.