I understand that the Vicar website is down due to problems with the ISP. I was worried lest global meltdown had been caused by the colour of Punk's prose. One dribbling Crimson guitarist, who telephoned this afternoon, was certainly pleased that the offending sections had been excised from the book, while perhaps not appreciating their appearance on this website.
Lest you think that Punk is totally obsessed with bowel movements, I shall print below the treatment that my sun tanned associate prepared today to accompany my magnificent, nay legendary, screenplay. On the morrow, Katherine and the beast of terror will be sending it out to selected worthies. May the fun begin.
THE VICAR CHRONICLES
"Sherlock Holmes meets Spinal Tap". A series of whodunnits set in the music industry - which, in the words of the famous Vicar himself, "encompasses the very best and the very worst of humanity, its excesses, greed, jealousies, capacity for infinite beauty, strange attraction to mind altering substances, big people with big egos and even bigger erections." Not to mention, for the commercially minded (and yes, that's you, esteemed reader, be honest) the possibilities for cameo performances by the great and the good, soundtrack albums, and the odd chance for the Vicar's assistant, Punk, to indulge his strange fascination with the female breast. And longevity. Did I mention longevity? This series, like the love of music, can run forever. (Unlike the music industry itself, which is falling apart, but that's another story. Or, more accurately, a part of our story).
But we're getting ahead of ourselves. For those of you too lazy to read the attached teleplay perhaps a quick overview is called for :
Each one hour TV show is punctuated by visits to PUNKLAND, a fantasy rock "Hall of Fame", where Punk gets to sing with rock stars, and get paid (or should that be "laid") for doing his hamfisted voiceovers. And to make up the rules. RULE ONE: Life's too short. It's too short to write a good treatment, and certainly too short to write any professional voiceovers. RULE TWO : Punk gets at least one gratuitous sex scene in every show. RULE THREE (cutting the backing track mid tune) No music by dead people.
You get the idea.
Cut to the main action. The Vicar at work in a recording studio. He is one of the finest music producers in the world - a contrary, pompous, self obsessed, manipulative genius from the English countryside, about to embark on one of his famous crusades within the music industry. The phone rings, and the adventure begins. Another mystery for him to solve.
What mystery? Well, that would be telling wouldn't it? You could try reading the teleplay, or get your hands (after washing them, of course) on a copy of Punk's "Vicar Chronicles", or you could visit the website, www.thevicar.com, and ask the Vicar himself. Although, a word of caution, you might just get flamed in his infamous online diary.
The choice, as the gameshow says, is yours.
"Even genius requires a competent technique."
