22 Jan




The ancient manuscript tell us that devils triumph when good men sit on their arse, drinking beer and watching Columbo reruns on the television. Well if that’s true, then as an advocate of all thirteen of the deadly sins, (what, you thought there were only seven?) I am prepared to give up just one. Sloth will have to put its feet up on the table, guzzle cans of lager and bide it’s time, as any book that contains a profit deserves a second look.



The time has come, the banner is unfurled, the bugle has sounded.

It’s up and over the top boys; we’ll be in Berlin before Christmas – millionaires before Christmas Rodney, or some other precursor to greatness. The purpose of the COCK CANCER campaign has several goals, personal enrichment and lifetime achievement awards not least among them.

All too often we expect somebody else to do the dirty work, to do the heavy lifting, so this time I thought I would lead the charge. Having confronted the subject of prostate cancer head on and collided with what passes for a conscience I have decided to set down the Cock Cancer MANIFESTO – the aims and objectives, hopes and aspirations of the Cock Cancer campaign. Unlike revolutionaries before me I am not an advocate for violent change but rather of public disobedience and serial defiance. Not a case of abject cowardice, just a realization that they have more guns than we do!

So following in the sandy-flip-flop footprints of Gandhi, we are going to tip toe our way through the minefield of political correctness and demand that Cock Cancer is taken out of the vernacular and pushed into the mouth of socially accepted polite conversation. It’s just a word; but a bit like shock and awe, comes with a Dresden style bombing run -a pyroclastic blast of conversational acceptance and immediate recognition.

“I say, have you heard about this new Cock-Cancer-Johnny? Seems its done away with the old prostate Cancer thingy-me-jig.”

That’s right, Cock Cancer is battering down the doors and running up the steps of the Bastille – flaming torch in hand, to claim its rightful place in Oxford English documented prose. No longer will we hide in the shadow of “Ooh, you can’t say that,” or, “ That’s just not right!”

 It is what it is.

 This is a cause, a riot, a literary insurgency ; demanding full frontal recognition and center fold techni-coloured brilliance.

…The Oxford Dictionary Magazine for Men is proud to present its Playmate prose of the year. Enjoy the charms of Cock Cancer in our limited addition collector’s copy of in-your-face writing…

Where do revolutions begin? Do do they start in palaces of justice surrounded by marble staircases and mastered oils. Or do they start in pubs and clubs and around kitchen tables?

So here I am in the middle of West-Bumble-Fuck, tapping away at my keyboard and my little girl asks me what I’m doing. “I’m writing a manifesto,” I tell her. Which is kind of strange when you thing about it. One can imagine a scenario nearly a hundred years ago around the table of Mr. and Mrs. Lenin. The conversation probably went a bit like this.

“What you up to Vlad dear?”

“Nothing special, just writing a manifesto.”

“That’s nice. Do you think you’ll be finished soon, because we have a lot to do today. You know how busy the market gets if you wait till the last minute?”

So what follows is a list of hopes and dreams and still to be realized demands.



  1. To raise awareness and bring Cock Cancer to the immediate and forefront of public attention.
  2. To raise money for the cause and help to finance additional research to assist in developing a cure for this disease.
  3. To build a presence on the web, attract media attention, to be featured on national television and obtain column inches in the international press.

As with every revolutionary I have personal aspirations which I will covertly slip into the cause. What’s a revolution if there isn’t a little corruption and insider dealing? So be aware that despite the good work intended, we will also be following our own agenda.

  1. To remove the word Cock from the Vernacular and return it to mainstream conversation where it belongs.
  2. To found the PURPLE ARMY. A group of likeminded citizens with one true goal and dedication; supporting the usurpation of Prostate cancer and replacing it with our self-crowned King Cock Cancer.
  3. To initiate the first March of Dongs.(A worldwide reactionary response to breast cancer walks and of course as a salute to the March of  Dimes) A city wide march where members of the PURPLE ARMY will proudly display their support for COCK CANCER politics.

Can one man make a difference, or am I just full of the proverbial? Well here goes.  I’m a man on a mission, I’m on fire and it’s going to take more than a golden shower to extinguish the flames.

Every great journey begins with one step…

Went to go-daddy and purchased the web sites COCKCANCER.COM  and COCKCANCER.ORG.

Can you feel it rustling your hair – can you hear it banging the shutters  outside?

 You can?

 Good, ‘cos that’s the wind of change. I’m tired of talking; let’s do some bloody doing.



  1. L'Aussie January 23, 2011 at 12:45 am #

    This is an upfront way to campaign for this disease.

  2. General Zzod January 23, 2011 at 12:11 pm #

    A Purple Army you say.
    Happenstance or the one legged dance.
    Chin up dear ones.
    Nay, nay and forever nay.
    For surely it was just a matter of time.
    That the memory of our little lost Comrades will be pulled from our mind
    But was it upon this… or yesterday
    To those who might and those who may.

    Left with the knowledge of what was once held in your hand.
    Eternal in nature, now lost forever in time.
    Tis the “Pearls” that must be saved.
    Sung unison with a half assed rhyme.

    For it’s the “Pearls” that we have been so richly blessed.
    Undaunting, as the ponderance slips through his hand.
    Cancer, the word still has a grip on his mind.
    Keen to the moment, a sigh of relief.

    What compassion lacked, once hazed now clear.
    Hastened that glistening goodness, forward to it’s doom.
    In memory of the “Pearls” that were lost to the drain.
    Time for a reckoning, with thoughts held so dear.
    Even the old man, passing away time in his room.
    Yesterdays dreams, yet foolish, will remain.

    Oh yearnings screamed for that momentary sigh and… relief.
    Brethren gathered quietly feeling the void beneath their pants.
    All were laden heavy as loss turned to grief.
    Men are created equal they cried; from England and even France.
    All hail the “Pearl” as they hung their heads in shame.

    It’s the “Pearls” we must save.
    It’s the “Pearls” we must save!
    Not some dribble down our pants.

  3. robyn January 24, 2011 at 10:02 am #

    Looks like General Zzod has climbed on the Cock Crusade!

    I haven’t seen this many straight men excited about Cock since Lorena Bobbitt nipped John in the bud…

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