Dave Brockie was a monster. Now, where I come from, you can’t get a greater compliment or distinction than being labeled as such. It means that someone is a huge presence—larger than life, in fact. Dave Brockie and the entity that is GWAR are nothing less than monsters among us puny men who stood in wonder, amusement and disgust for the awesome spectacle he started some 30 years ago in Richmond, VA.

I have had the pleasure of being covered many times in various bodily fluids while shooting GWAR, camera wrapped in garbage bags for safety, and shirts stained pink for eternity. I was even so lucky as to be pissed on by Saddam Hussein, and drenched in the blood of Al Gore. How many people can make that claim? Only in our cooler than anyone world, the world of true metal blood and guts that is the universe, according to GWAR. I will cherish these memories always.

It was just the other day I was telling some of the staff here at the Sherman Theater this very thought: “Everyone should go to at least one GWAR show in their life.” It truly has to be experienced to even come close to being able to comprehend the spectacle and power of Brockie and his gang. Sadly, just a few days before we were set to announce GWAR coming to our venue, Dave took his place in the cosmos that spawned Oderus Urungus. Or, as one of my friends posted, “He was sent to escort Fred Phelps to Hell.” That is exactly the type of thing Dave would laugh about, I reckon. I can think of no better soul to do it either.

With all that in mind, I have just a few things to respectively say on the passing of a true great monster, Dave Brockie. Unless you have been around the band behind the scenes, it’s tough to conceptualize just how much this man gave all of us for our entertainment. To say it is an arduous task to design, construct and perform all that is GWAR, is a gross (pun intended) understatement. It takes not only a man with tremendous vision, but an immeasurable heart and will to continue doing what he did for three decades.

So after the initial shock and subsequent mourning subsides, take comfort in the idea that Dave will be with millions of people from here on. Recanted in wonderful, atrocious stories that will amuse and mortify folks for many decades to come. I would venture to guess he would be proud of his legacy, looking back on it as he travels through the galaxies from whence he came. The Ultimate Scumdog of The Universe has moved on, to destroy more worlds amongst the multiverse, is how I like to think of it. Thank you, Dave, for giving me experiences and memories I will cherish hereafter, and I doubt will ever come this way again. And that is the highest honor any musician and entertainer could ever hope for. You are the monster to destroy all monsters. You are truly immortal. See you when I see you.

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