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Greetings once again, gentle readers.

But for a lack of concrete evidence, the accusations I bring forth today remain merely accusations. I have nothing but conjecture and hypothesis at the foundation of my claims: I have no eye witnesses nor any new scientific marvel of this great steam age at hand with which to deduce the mastermind of whomever plastered Kelvin Grove with these mystifying bulletins.

My conjecture, however, leads me to accuse none other than my sister-in-law, the Grand Duchess Dani “Danger” von Actionknickers (real name unknown). No doubt she was still sore at me for having foiled her attempted train robbery in Prussia (see The Königsberg Kaper – A Viper Pilot Mystery) and was out for revenge via this shrewd smear campaign! I have but a few shreds of evidence, but those few shreds loom like the Himalayas over the total absence of facts which favour any other verdict.

Fact #1

I know the ringleader of a local group of ruffians who call themselves the TurboJugend; I had no choice but to threaten to employ my pugilistic skills upon their leader before he would cough up any details. First off, he knew who was behind the deed, but he’d been paid very well and wasn’t willing to divulge exactly just whom it was, nor was I ready to sully my gentlemanly name by thrashing the fellow, cretin may he be. However, knowing that he knew who it was narrowed my suspect list by some margin. To begin with, my nemesis was also involved with the TurboJugend. Secondly, my informant also maintained a position at the University, meaning he could have been the insider who supplied Dani with the photo found on the posters.

Fact #2

I can muster but a few names of people who would use the words ‘hate crime’ to describe music.

Fact #3

Sunday afternoon, I partook in a stroll to the fish & chip shoppe with Mrs. Viper Pilot. Once there, we engaged in our usual perusal (and sporting derision) of the handbills and “unit for let” fliers spangled across the notice board. There, nestled betwixt the adverts for ‘heavy metal’ spectacles, foolish new age mysticism and students seeking flatmates was another of the Type II posters! My sister-in-law is suspected to maintain a safehouse somewhere within no more than 150 metres from that very fish and chip shoppe!

Unfortunately, a rock-solid case it is not. Alas, I have exhausted all avenues of inquiry. For now, I believe this case will have to be left unsolved. My villainous sister-in-law had best be warned that she’ll be watched quite closely from now on, for let it not be said that Viper Pilot is not vigilant!


Last post, I shared one of Dani’s bands with everyone. Today it’s back to my usual self-indulgence of suggesting listening for you.

Fantastic Planet (La Planète Sauvage) is a seriously tripped-out French animated film from 1973. Some intrepid sonic warrior by the name of has gone to the trouble of rescoring it with a soundtrack of modern IDM artists. The two make for a mix that’s even creepier (and cooler) than either of the originals on their own.

Watch it on Google Video (of course, that does mean an hour and a bit in front of your computer).


Greetings all,

Today I come to you with a mystery! A deed most foul has been perpetrated and I aim to uncover the culprit through whatever means I have at my disposal. This includes, of course, a dissemination of relevant information via this electronic teletype feed that I normally use for the distribution of news.

It appears my good work in advancing the field of mashing has garnered me some unwanted attention. Earlier this week, posters disparaging my good name sprung up around the borough of Kelvin Grove. The first poster, a simple black and white affair, appeared on the door to the office beside mine. Below a simple picture of yours truly, it stated, simply, that I was a wanted man, to be hunted down and executed for my crimes against music. Dear readers, you all know this is farthest from the truth, and I consider this slander most vile! The full text of the missive:






Obviously, some pack of neo-luddite anarchists has set me in its sights. I should have realized that being a vanguard of new musical expression would have led to some reactionary outcry from the plebes, but I never expected the outrage this early. The spartan design of the poster only further confirms my hypothesis that it is technophobes I’m up against.

The next day, another poster appeared. The photo was in colour this time, and the font had been changed (and centre-justified – a staggeringly innovative leap forward for my opponents), but the inflammatory text remained the same. This time, however, the anti-mash sentiment had spread from my office! Now the posters lined the route I walk from home to my office complex, some three blocks in all and a dozen or so posters on every lamp-pole and telegraph post along the route.

The Evidence

Poster 1

Posted on the door to Z2-106 (the office beside my office) sometime before 08:00 on July 10th, 2007.

Poster 2

Posted around the neighborhood sometime before 08:00 on July 11th.

The Suspects

  • Gabriel, the Coworker

Gabriel and Tim were at work before me on both days, so could have had the time to place the posters. However, Gabriel would design a better poster, and would have known which door to paste it on. I have my doubts of his involvement.

  • Tim, the Other Coworker

Tim’s involvement in this conspiracy is possible, given his arrival time at the office, but unlikely as he has a new kid to look after, and therefore no time for these sorts of shenanigans.

  • Murray, Who Has a Week Off

Murray has this week off work, giving him plenty of time to orchestrate a stunt like this. He has access to our internal staff directory, and access to the office to put the first poster up. However, he wouldn’t have put it on the wrong door, unless it was done on purpose to throw me off. This is the exact kind of Discordian antic I would expect from Murray, though.

  • Dani, the Sister-in-Law

Dani knows where I live, and hates me passionately for showing her an Iggy and the Stooges vs Salt n Pepa mash. She may have coerced another QUT employee to get the photo for her, but being my sister-in-law, one assumes she might have another photo of me around somewhere.

I implore you, my gentle fans, to come forward if you have any information! Together, our might shall overcome the wave of obscurity threatening to erase Viper Pilot from your musical repertoire!


-Viper Pilot


Today’s music link!

I think that in order to solve this mystery, I’ll need the help of The Men From UNCLE.

New bootleg available today. Finished in one day, it sets a new speed record for the fleet. I’m very happy with the results. It’s the first time I’ve managed to restrain myself to just two songs.

Here’s what happens when you take a country song from ’61 and smash it up against Finnish producers Pepe Deluxe.

Viper Pilot – Big John Pass Me By

Pepe Deluxe – Everybody Pass Me By vs Jimmy Dean – Big Bad John


It’s taken me a few days to really nail down just what I didn’t like (as a Transformers fanboy) so much about this movie. Fandom aside, it was a decent action flick, full of some spectacular effects. However, it really missed the mark as a movie about the Transformers.

Why? Because it wasn’t a movie about Transformers. It was a movie about some gung-ho army special-ops dudes, and a couple of teenagers. The TV show, the comic, the movie – all of them had the Transformers as not just walking Japanese plot devices, but they were actually characters who occupied the bulk of the dialog. Yes, I know, the TV show was pretty mundane, but what Saturday morning cartoon wasn’t? The point remains, though; the Transformers were the stars of the show. However, with Hollywood in charge, Optimus Prime had a handful of lines and camera time, but every other Transformer in the film was blessed with but a few throwaway lines to establish some kind of ‘personality’ to them (or to blatantly try and appeal to the fans who bought the toys when they were 10 – ooh, look, Jazz used the word ‘cool’ in one of his two lines. HOW AWESOME!).

Don’t even get me started on what a waste Hugo Weaving was on the limp lines poor old Megatron was dealt.

Okay, okay. Yes, we need human faces to sell the movie, especially if it’s taking place on Earth. But when I sit through two hours of movie, waiting to see Optimus Prime and Megatron finally go toe-to-toe, what I DO NOT WANT is for the camera to pan away from the most awesomely epic piece of giant robot cage fighting ever so we can see special-ops dude steal a motorcycle. Wow. Good call, Michael Bay.

I don’t consider the following to be a spoiler, because you had to expect some casualties… What’s the bloody point of having one of the Autobots capped by Megs (after an invigorating 2 seconds of camera time), only to then script Op making a ‘farewell, brother’ speech? We barely knew the character, so how the hell am I, the viewer, encouraged to give a damn? If this had been a flesh and blood character, you can guarandamntee a different sequence of events.

Feh. In summary – the Transformers movie was NOT ABOUT THE TRANSFORMERS. It was a decent action film, but its central characters were far from central to the plot.

Cranky old toy fan,


(No music today. The skies are far too dark.)

Viper Pilot Audio

Looking for music by Viper Pilot? This blog is the current home of Viper Pilot's Munition Works, where he stores all of his mashes and mixes.

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