Maiden Dissed at OzzFelch

Man oh man am I sickened by some shit that went down in San Bernardino this weekend. Sure, there was probably a bar fight, drug arrest, maybe a robbery. A perverted sex act or two was most likely performed. Some skaters probably went down to the park to guzzle some Robitussin. Whatever. Nothing could be worse than the savagery that occurred at Ozzfest on Saturday, when that soulless slag Sharon Osbourne and her minions attacked Iron Maiden and their legendary vocalist, Bruce Dickinson.

According to countless reports compiled on MetalUnderground.com, Maiden withstood an onslaught of Ozzy chants, PA disruption and egg-pelting during their set. Rumor has it Ozzy’s rodent-dog loving wife has a beef with Bruce cause he made some (highly warranted) comments about her pathetic embarrassment of a reality show. So, she and a bunch of OzzLackeys, evincing their 2^nd grade-level maturity, sabotaged the entire band while onstage, literally unplugging the PA system and chanting “Ozzy, Ozzy, Ozzy” into the mic and from the crowd. So many eggs were thrown at the stage that Nicko had to wipe the gunk off his drum set at one point.

Ya know, I understand a little ribbing at a festival show – it’s the nature of these things (which I religiously avoid, by the way). But this far surpasses practical jokedom and enters the just plain wrong stage. I’ll start out by saying I’m a huge Sabbath fan and, though his sad reality show exposure has almost entirely squelched any respect I may once have had for Ozzy, I have no problem giving him his props. He killed on the Sabbath stuff he did, and plenty of his early solo stuff, too. But the fact is, today he’s a shell of a man. Apparently he can’t even sing two nights in a row on this tour. It’s more depressing than anything, really, the way his spirit’s been crushed by those soul-sucking twits he calls a family. Hey, the drugs ‘n’ booze didn’t help either.

Compare the empty vessel that is Ozzy with the powerhouse that is Bruce Dickinson. Bruce not only has the best voice in metal – ever – as far as I’m concerned (and, no, I don’t put VH in the metal category); he’s like a Mexican jumping bean on stage. Literally. The guy has boundless energy to this day, and he ain’t no spring chicken. And his live vocals are still full and robust. Nobody does it like li’l Bruce, and I’m sure Sharon Oswhore feels threatened by anybody who could upstage her man. Hell, at this point, a fucking decapitated bat could upstage her man.

Scream for me San Bernadino! Maiden! Maiden! Maiden! Maiden! Maiden! Maiden! Maiden! Maiden! Maiden!

OK, I’m done.