update: The history of GWAR [ tickets ] has two versions. One of them has something to do with a time billions of years ago when the "Master of All Reality" created Oderus Urungus (vocalist, bassist) and his cohorts because he had nothing better to do. After being imprisoned in Antarctica, they were engaged by capitalist-entrepreneur Sleazy P. Martini and decided to become a rock and roll band.

The other version has something to do with a bunch of art students from Virginia Commonwealth University who were into Dungeons & Dragons, punk rock, horror movies, bizarre comic books and various controlled substances. Which explains the first version.

GWAR's ninth metal album, "Violence Has Arrived" (Metal Blade) is now in stores, and a U.S. tour is slated to begin later this month.

A GWAR concert is a unique mix comic-book theatrics and vulgarity. Onlookers are often drenched in various fake bodily fluids, so fans are careful to avoid wearing attire they care about to the band's shows.

LiveDaily attempted to get more information out of Oderus Urungus (a.k.a. Dave Brockie), and occasionally got it.

Dave Brockie: [deep growling] Hello?

LiveDaily: Mr. Urungus.

Wait! I'm looking at a picture of Jerry Falwell. Now I'm becoming erect. Oh, he's crying now. Oh, no, I’m getting limp again. Oh, I’m sorry, I'm sorry, who is this?

I'm Don Zulaica, the writer for LiveDaily.

Oh, how very nice for you. I hope they actually give you something, like little pieces of dirt or candy corn.

Candy corn, sometimes. So, "Violence Has Arrived" is your ninth album?

It is?

I saw on the website; it looked like there were eight other albums.

Really?

Yeah.

Wow. We're busy. Didn't even know it. Aah, it's effortless.

Where did you record the album--this was really done in Antarctica?

Yes, we recorded it in the actual Slave Pit Studios, located in the indomitable vastness of our Antarctic keep. It didn't start out too well, actually. We started the project, and then we realized we needed these things called ... microphones? To actually record what was happening.

Yeah, they help.

Well, we didn't know that at first! Then we needed a tape machine and all kinds of other crap. So anyway, we spent a lot of money. But that's okay, because Antarctica--a lot of people don't know this--is a giant diamond. And we just shaved flecks off and traded them for crack.

[laughing] Seriously, what's the story? You guys met in college?

Wait, do you want me to stop pretending that I'm a monster from outer space?

Is that okay?

Oh, yeah, it's fine. Just as long as I know what's going on. So, yes, we all met each other at VCU, Virginia Commonwealth University. Richmond is a little southern town, but it's got a cool art-and-music scene. Somehow, we all hooked up at this place called the Dairy, an old milk-bottling factory that was built near the end of the 1800s. It was really cool because it had giant milk bottles on the corners, like 50 feet high--I lived in one of the milk bottles.

And I just had the absolute amazing good fortune to meet a lot of really killer artists and musicians. I was in a punk rock band called Death Piggy, and I met Hunter Jackson [a.k.a. Techno-Destructo, who occasionally contributes vocals to GWAR] who was building these crazy costumes for a movie he wanted to make. And we kind of conglomerized the ideas together, and very rapidly GWAR became a lot bigger than the other things that we were working on. So we threw ourselves in.

Hope this doesn't disappoint you. I love the interviews with Oderus, but sometimes it's nice to find out what's really going on.

Oh, no, actually it's quite refreshing. After doing Oderus all day, it's quite nice to do this. And I think the fans appreciate it too. They hear Oderus rant and rave, but it's cool to kind of understand the workings behind it, to see what makes Slave Pit and GWAR tick. If nothing else, I would like it to serve as inspiration to artists out there who are probably very talented, but are on the edge of getting sucked up by the corporate world, who are looking at a group of artists like [those from GWAR's Richmond enclave Slave Pit Studios] and saying, "Wait a minute. You can do what you want to do." If you want to dress up like a rubber monster from outer space and stab a huge sword through a Tyrannosaurus Rex's head every night, you can do that. Somehow, we figured out a way to get paid to do that--you're on your own, as far as that's concerned.

Who are the guys that made you want to do this?

My first concert was Ted Nugent when I was 12 years old. By the time I was 14, I had a shaved head and I was totally into hardcore music--this was like 1980. By the time I graduated from high school, I had been beaten up so many times, I couldn't even count.

I grew up in [Washington] D.C. It was a straight-edge hardcore scene, and I was not straight-edge. [The straight-edge punk scene frowns upon promiscuity and drug use.] I was disillusioned with a lot of the stuff in D.C., and as much as I loved the hardcore music, I didn't like the lyrics. I didn't like the way they were always attacking people's personalities. I didn't like the strict regimen of what the straight-edge people demanded of you. "Oh you're slamming the wrong way, we're going to beat you up." I thought that was bulls---. I ended up in Richmond and got myself into an environment that was way more open and free. People were just having fun.

Honestly, I'd have to say the biggest influence in my life was probably Monty Python. First of all, my family is from England, so we had a better understanding of what Python was all about. But when I was like 12 years old, I started watching Monty Python and went and saw ["Monty Python and the Holy Grail"]--that really did it. That really f---ing did it. I was just, like, "Man, I want to do something like this."