Even When The Earth Becomes A Dark And Lonely Rock

I’m out.  This endeavour seizes to resonate.

I’m in love.  That love is the most important thing to me, and I will do whatever it takes to nurture that love and keep it steady.  Making that love shine eclipses Doug Hell.  Doug Hell is a joke.  I actually have a real job.  It’s the kind you get up and go to.

This is just the beginning.  I can’t do the musician thing anymore unless it’s on my own terms.  NO more playing shitty dive bars.  I can’t stand bar culture.  I will continue to make music but it’s taking a back seat to getting a life.  It’s a shame I had to lose so much to be in such a good place, but I have no regrets.  I’ve really surprised myself.  What I am capable of.  My integrity.

I think a part of that integrity needs me to not come out here shooting my mouth off about how great, or pathetic, I am.  It’s time to be humble in defeat, and humble in victory.  For the first time in my life I am genuinely giddy about my future.  There will be a lot of music.  But Doug Hell was a cartoon character.

I’m not going to close this site because there is a lot of great writing on here.

For now I am going to continue to work my real job while working for the things I ultimately want to do.   This site is not something I want to do anymore.  Like I said before, all it has done is give people access to me that I don’t want accessing me.

This site will stay.  But I won’t.  I won’t be checking updates, reading comments, or moderating in any capacity.

Thank you all for coming, and goodbye.

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It Ain’t Fantasy Or Fractured Karma

You can’t just be a musician.  You’re not good enough.  You may be quippy.  You may know a lot about certain bands or be really good at keeping a straight face when you make a dry or sarcastic comment.  But you suck.  I’m not going to make fun of myself as a musician anymore.  I’ll make fun of myself for being a trainwreck, and an asshole, but not as a musician.  I’m a great fucking musician.

I was spoiled.  The first band I ever played in, was The Vapids.  It was trial by fire.  Jimmy and Scotty didn’t fuck around.  We would write songs in practice.  Jimmy would bring a song and we would play it.  No one was writing out tabs for anyone.  No one had to work on it at home or find time in their busy schedule.  It just got done.  We’d write a song in practice and play it live at our next show.

I’ve never ever played in a band that ran so smoothly since.  I’ve worked with extreme few who got it right away.  I can name all the people who got it right away.  There was no bullshit.  Jimmy, Scotty, LUMPY, Prentice, Father X, Sparkles, Edin, and Stoneman.  That’s it.  That’s not to say I haven’t played with others who don’t deserve an honourable mention.  There were some who may not have gotten it right away but they worked their fucking ass off to get it right, and fast.  Smiley, Flynn, Negator, Andy, Seger, and Sincade.  I can respect that.

But others?  What in the actual fuck?  Some people just have no sense of fucking urgency whatsoever.  Oh uh maybe I’ll learn the material one day.  Or they’ll learn it in rehearsal.  When you get into your forties you generally don’t have time to rehearse all the time.  You should learn the shit on your own time and come to that one rehearsal a week that you’re lucky to have, prepared.

I don’t care if you’re a nice guy prepared to tell jokes and try to be a funny guy in between songs.  Don’t waste my fucking time.  You can go right ahead and be a joker if you know the material.  If not, you’re only going to get gassed after one practice.  I don’t like my time being wasted.

Doug Hell is not a fascist.  I just need things to groan about.  You want to hear about how great my day was?  Not really.  Although I am not going to come out here and dredge my own hardships so you can laugh at me either.  BALANCE!  ARGH!

I’m not ever sure how much longer I’m going to have this site up anyway.  All it does is provide access to me.  I don’t want you to have access to me.  That’s what Facebook is for.  And that gets wearisome more often then not.  These mediums worked great when I wanted to get under people’s skin just for the mere sake of getting under their skin.  But getting under people’s skin has really lost its shine.  I don’t know if it’s because I am getting old, or it’s just getting plain tedious.

I used to pride myself on my innate talent for inspiring good people and angering bad people.  But that ship has sailed.  No one is all good or all bad.  Who knows what kind of day they had.  Who knows what kinda life they have lived?  What gives me the lordly right to decide who’s good or bad.  This who money catastrophe I recently experienced really humbled me.   God bless all of you who helped me out.  And God bless those who tried.

I’m not a bad person.  I wasn’t about to take anymore than I needed.  I gave everyone who donated my entire album collection.  There are still many more Doug Hell albums to come.

I’m more excited about this band I have going now though.

Thanks for tuning in guys.  I know I say this a lot but I am actually amidst making a movie right now and I need volunteers for it.  I can’t pay you but you’ll be a part of history.

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Minneapolis Breeds Fags

My world has suffered an absolutely devastating loss today.  This feels worse than when Johnny Cash died.  Today Grant Hart passed away after battling cancer.  I’m not going to start writing about him like he’s my business to write about.  You can research him yourself.  My florid prose will not justify the grief and emptiness I’m experiencing.

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Doug And The Drugs

After hours of scholarly thinking, I have decided to call my band, Doug And The Drugs.  I am a genius for thinking of that.  It’s 100% original and thought of only by me.

First rehearsal was a hellride.  The bass player never showed up.  Erik ended up playing the bass.  He’s about as bad on bass as I am on guitar.  So I would like to recant my previous statement about being the greatest guitar player in the world.  I’m going back on bass.  I’m more comfortable on the bass, not to mention I’m a jedi on it.  What’s right.  What’s up?

Three piece again.  What’s up with that?  Well that is fine.  Prentice and I are easily the world’s greatest rhythm section besides the bass player and drummer for Seether, whatever the fuck their names are.  They’re.. so… good.

I do wish Lumpy was singing though so I could just play the bass.  Or I wish someone could play bass and i could just sing.  Lumpy is in another band now.

Our first run of show will be with The Vapids.  Those will likely be happening in December/January.  That gives us little time to get our poop in a group but none of us have day jobs so all is well in Hell.

Needless to say we’ll be stripping down the sound.  The Arcade Fire thing was fun while it lasted but I’ve learned you have to write stuff that translates well live.  The last couple albums really haven’t done that.  I think too much when I’m playing.  I don’t want to think when I’m playing.  If I’m thinking then I’m playing from the brain and not from the heart.

I’m really looking forward to making records with an actual band again.  There’s nothing like it.

Here is a demo of how we’re going to sound, only with better production.


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Too Soon For Nostalgia

There will be no Radar Hate reunion.  Let’s get that straight.  The original line-up of Radar Hate could never co-exist.  Not to mention it sucks.  Badge can’t play the drums to save his life.  On top of that, I would slap the shit out of him and I am not a violent man.  He’s just the type of person who needs to be slapped.  He’s a renegade in his little white trash paradise of a backyard but he’s all mouth.

Sure.  I’m one to talk.

You don’t move on after having Prentice for a drummer.  It’s Prentice or it’s a drum machine.  I’ll gladly take either but I’ll never work with a human drummer again.  Ever.  If I do any other side project than Doug Hell it’s going to be with a different singer.  I would love to do Hanging Girl again.  But Geoff’s bass and my guitar playing made Hanging Girl the success it was.  Sick Girl and her Madonna/The Joker shenanigans were aesthetically pleasing in her various clown outfits, but she couldn’t sing live to save her life.

So there will be no Hanging Girl reunion.  It would work without Sick GIrl or Scotty.  I would prefer a female singer who didn’t jump around like an over-caffeinated monkey.  Someone who takes the Liam Gallagher approach to singing.  Just stand there and sing your ass off.  You’re still cool.

Geoff lives in Oshawa.  Hanging Girl would only need Geoff and myself to be great.  But alas, we’re too far away from each other to make it work.  We tried twice to make Hanging Girl without Geoff and we failed.  The record company wanted a prettier band with less talent.  We tried.  We failed.

I would LOVE to start a noise-rap band.  Similar to Beastie Boys but more fucked up.  I want to be to rap what the Butthole Surfers are to punk rock.  FUCKED UP.  Being the world’s greatest guitar player, I would obviously play guitar.  I would need a couple MCs and turntablist or something.  It would be so fucked up.

Ok all that foolishness aside, I realize how ridiculous I’ve become.  I ONLY listen to my own music.  I don’t just listen, but I am riveted by it.  If people actually smoked a joint and sat down and listened to one of my albums they would be riveted too.  But people are generally more concerned with eating cheeseburgers, smoking cigarettes, drinking, watching porno, or chasing skirts.  This is not a judgement anymore than my earlier comments about Sick GIrl’s abilities as a performer.  Sick Girl is easily the best songwriter and collaberator I ever worked with.  I loved her voice and it evoked huge passion when she did ballads.  But she wanted to be a badass rocker instead and it just didn’t work for her.

So tonight I have my first jam with my new band.  Rather, history will be made tonight.  Wait.

Fuck, I’m beautiful.

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Sucking The Dick Of Heath Ledger’s Ghost

I can’t say this enough.  I’m tired of all the hoopla still being made 11 years later about how iconic and classic Heath Ledger’s Joker was.

I’m not a fanboy by any means.  I was a big Batman fan when I was younger.  I loved Batman.  When the movie starring Michael Keaton came out in 1989, I was geeked.  Until that point we only had Adam West’s version of Batman.  We had yet to experience a dark representation.

Maybe I didn’t love Batman though.

It all started with the shirt.  I saw a Batman shirt in the mall that I loved.  I bought it.  Then I saw another one.  Then I bought that.  Then I decided at that point I should probably love Batman because I was collecting the shirts.  Speaking of that, I started collecting every Batman shirt I could find with pathological commitment.  It was very pretentious of me, but I imagine a lot of people started listening to Misfits the same way.

Then I got to thinking.  It didn’t actually start there.  It started a lot sooner than that.  When I was twelve years old I was such a bad kid that the parent of a kid I used to fight with, put a bounty on my head.  This is not me sensationalizing.  I used to fight with a kid named Joey Arsenault.  There was no rhyme or reason.  I was just a cunt.  I did cunt things.  We can blame my parents.  We can blame my friends, but the fact of the matter I was a cunt and knew better.  And I still did it.

The bounty bought me a one way ticket to the basement of 2050 Upper Middle Road #178.  I was sent down there to live, cut off from the rest of the world.  I was allowed to go upstairs to use the bathroom and that was it.  I slept down there.  I took all my meals down there.  There was no TV.  There were no toys.  All I had to entertain myself was a hard copy book of Batman stories.  It was an amalgamation of all the early Batman comics.  There were a lot of origin stories in there.

I read that book every day.  I reread it and read it again.  I’m not complaining.  This was after the era of my stepfather beating me.  He wasn’t allow to beat me anymore after being arrested.  So I was happy to be relegated to to the dungeon.  There were no asshole brothers.  There was no abusive step-father.

Needless to say, I got to know Batman very well.  I loved the Joker.  It didn’t matter how vile he was.  I was always rooting for him and he made me laugh plenty.

So you fanboys and comic book geeks sit the fuck down.  I am an authority on the matter.  If I say that Heath Ledger was a shitty joker, it was because he was a shitty joker.

The character Heath Ledger portrayed, was a GREAT villain.  I don’t dispute that.  But it was no Joker.  That is a fact, because I said so.  Just because I don’t masturbate in comic book stores, does it mean I don’t know my fucking shit.  I know more than you.

*     *     *

I have been receiving emails from concerned readers.  Instead of responding to every one of you in kind, I will just say that my last blog had nothing to do with you ok?  I was referring to people who were grandstanding on my Facebook wall only to disappear when it was time to make good.

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I’d Rather Be Alone Than Dead In Someone’s Arms

Thanks again to those who helped me through this rough time.  It won’t happen again.  I remember a time my step-father told me that he went hungry for three days when he was 18.  It was after that time he resolved to never go hungry again.  Incidentally, he didn’t.  I don’t like to use my step-father as a source of inspiration.  More on that some other time.  Needless to say, I am never going to go hungry again and I have a newfound thankfulness and appreciation for people.

I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.  I would dare say that I am happiest I’ve ever been.  It was very encouraging and inspirational to see the amount of people who came out and helped me.  I owe an apology to those who were offended in my last piece.  I told the ones who didn’t help me to piss or go fishing.  Again, I was generalizing.  In hindsight it was a bloody stupid thing to say.  I was just frustrated with the ones who grandstanded on my Facebook wall about helping when they had an audience only to fade when the reckoning came.

I need to be more selective about who I give my time and attention to.  I can’t allow myself to be someone’s temporary alternative to loneliness and then be relegated to acquaintance status as soon as I lose my usefulness.  That is fine.  The wheel turns.  It’s yet another learning experience.

I hope you’re all doing well.  In the wake of these hurricanes and whatever else, I encourage you to stay strong and luminous.  This world can be dark but it can also be very beautiful.  Cling to the beauty like a parasite.  Don’t be ashamed.

I’m not sure how entertaining you are going to find me from here on.  I’ll do my best, but frankly I have completely changed my priorities.  Things that weren’t important to me before have suddenly become very important to me.

I just want everyone to be fucking happy.

I mean that too.  You won’t ever heal yourself by wounding someone else.  You just won’t.  You have to stop harbouring resentment too.  Harbouring resentment is like sitting on cold concrete and expecting your enemy to get piles.  Let it go.

I can’t guarantee I’m going to love everyone, but I do forgive them.

I’m also in love.  I’ve never been in love before.  I’ve been in relationships in which I went great lengths to have the emotional upper hand so I couldn’t get hurt.  Love hurts man.  It’s not just a shitty song.  For a guy with LOVE HARD tattooed across his finger, I really never had a clue.

Tattoos.  If I could go back I would keep the one under my eye.  That’s it.  All they’ve done for me is make me look like a fucking hood.  I don’t like that.  I’m not a hood.  I am an extremely sensitive artist who is capable of immense compassion and understanding.  Hamilton is one tough fucking town.  It’s not an ideal place for a 44 year old pacifist, who looks like an enforcer for a biker gang, to live quietly and peacefully.  But I am stuck here now and I intend to make the best of it.

This is not to say I don’t love Hamilton.  I really do.  Hamilton is a tough town that takes care of its own.  It has absolutely gorgeous architecture and plenty of eye candy for an artist.  I never truly appreciated Hamilton and its beauty until I jettisoned my baggage.  I never basked in the warmth of its history and beautiful energy until I accepted and understood love.  I get it now.

On Monday I rehearse with my new band.  I’m thrilled to no end.  I have a PERFECT line-up of musicians ready to make my songs feel nice.  I’m ready.

Thanks for tuning in guys.  I hope there is plenty of love and light in all your lives.


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Let’s Take Those Broken Dreams And Burn Them To The Ground

I’m done.  I get it now.  I get where I’ve gone wrong.

First of all, I would like to thank Alek, Stephen, and Jeff for their generosity.  I’m going to be eating a lot of Kraft Dinner this month but at least I won’t be going hungry, and that is thanks to you guys.  I love you for having my back and giving a shit.  For that, you will forever get the best version of me.

The rest of you fucking clowns can piss or go fishing.  Now before you start crying, I am generalizing.  I don’t mean each and every one of you.  You’re all beautiful people in your own right, but I’m done being your dancing bear.

I won’t be posting my hardships on here anymore.  It only does more damage than good.  It doesn’t aspire.  It doesn’t do much other than bring good people down and inspire laughs from angry malcontents.  It’s over.

I am not shutting this site down.  I’m too self-important for that.  I just realized where I’ve been going wrong.  I’ve gone hungry and I swear to Jesusfuckinghell I will never go hungry again.

Here is the fundamental problem.  I spent the last four years of my life loving the living holy fuck out of someone.  We both made it hurt.

I was completely unprepared for this kind of love though.  I fought it tooth and nail and developed a martyr complex along the way.  But I stuck with it.  I tried to leave.  I tried to destroy it.  I tried to not save it.  But even after everything and all the pain, the love still survived.  It was still there.  I couldn’t destroy it.  But I also couldn’t let it be destroyed.

I’m still here.  So is the love.  Only now it’s stronger than ever.  It’s real.  It’s monumental.  Hell, it’s fucking BIBLICAL.

No more fucking around and playing the role of a buffoon out here.  I won’t discuss my personal life in a negative light anymore.  I know I inspire many of you and I resolve to not stop.  The world is full of evil.  We don’t need to be afraid of it.  There will always be evil, but as long as we exist, we will make it wish it was never born.  Let’s keep at this.

And you toxic people disguised as saints and loved ones?  We have your number.  We will continue to be cordial with you because we’re good people but don’t expect the best of us.  The time is coming where you’re going to wish you were better people.

The last month of my life has been magical.  My number one priority has become doing what I have to do to nurture and sustain that magic.  I owe it to my love, and I owe it to myself.

“Let’s take those broken broken dreams and burn them to the ground.”

– Doug Hell

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