Monday, December 1, 2008

Let your star just shine on, bro

Well, I’m thankful that’s all over. It was great, but fuck man, there were dishes in my house until today…We cooked for fifteen people including a very old Englishman with his own bottle of gin, a seven month old and three guys who call themselves the Cobra Skulls. I’d say Thanksgiving was a success. Take that, Indians.
On Friday night, after work, I went with some friends to watch the Cobra Skulls play. They were absolutely great. I was really, really happy after the show and as we went next door to the adjacent bar to spend a few complimentary drink tickets I felt like the night was shaping up perfectly. Then I saw them.
On the stage in all their waterproof boots and cargo pants and dumb sweaters and five string basses and sparse, overthought goatees and floppy knitted hats and fifteen minute songs and irritating smug “jam faces” and hemp chokers and hackey sack calluses and beads and braided belts and dreadlocks and bongos and windchimes and instrumental interludes were a bunch of fucking hippies. HIPPIES! And they were jamming. This is unacceptable, man. Hippies? Now? In this fucking day and age? Haven’t you hippies gotten the Lebowskian memo? The bums lost, man. Besides, there’s just nothing threatening about being a hippy. You know who was a hippy? The guys who started Ben and Jerry’s. That’s a real rebellious and dangerous paradigm you’re forcing on everyone, BRO. Ugh. It’s enough to make me sick.
Okay, so these hippies—they were called, and I’m not kidding, Ultraviolet Hippopotamus. Did you read that shit correctly? Ultraviolet Hippopotamus!!!! ULTRAVIOLET HIPPOPOTAMUS?????????????????? FUCK, MAN!
I was pissed. I was so pissed. Here’s the thing, I’m thirty two. Phony, bullshit wealthy hippies in fancy hiking boots and jeep Cherokees and crappy jam bands are the very thing that got me angry with mainstream culture and into punk rock in the first place. When I was in highschool, the fake hippies were the dominant class. They were the athletes (oh, and they’d just wear the letter jacket and the rasta hat at the same time, like ANYONE could ever believe that shit’s acceptable) they were in the bands that played at all the functions. Hell, in my first band in highschool, we had a bona-fide hippy on the fucking guitar, complete with a poncho! They were everywhere! You couldn’t even throw together a group of dudes to start a punk/funk/pseudo stoner rock band without a hippy being in there. These were the people I vowed to never be. These fake ass hippies made me sick when their band (called Smile High, as though THAT'S somehow okay) rigged the fucking battle of the bands my sophmore year and pretty much stole the prize money from my punk/funk/pseudo stoner rock band, and then, in the same month, held me down and shaved my head with sheepshears at a hockey practice. These were the hippies of the early nineties—entitled rich bully douchebag, aggressive, dicks with a ‘hey bro, I’m just chillin, what’s your beef?’ attitude in their back pockets for when people decided to call them on their completely unacceptable bullshit.
When I started traveling, going on tour, and visiting a large collection of my friends from highschool out in Boulder, I was shocked. The hippies ran the town. Everywhere I went was some dick in two hundred dollar corduroys and a fully loaded SUV ASKING ME FOR CHANGE?!?!?! This was a new low. Now these fucks, who had more money than me were expecting me to bankroll their glass pipe/kind bud fetish? Unacceptable, man. Just unacceptable. (On a bit of a side note, in my experience, these hippies, with their crystally weed and their glass pipes and their dogs on a rope and all that, were as a general rule, SO STINGY with their weed. They were, as per my recollection, mind you, to the last, a bunch of uptight pricks who would rather look at weed [and make you smell it and comment on the ‘red hairs’ or whatever] and tell you all about how great it is and then put it back in a jar than let you try it. This is neither here nor there, just sayin.)

Okay, so that’s out of the way, and we’re back. I’m absolutely furious at Ultraviolet Hippopotamus. AND, these guys are in their early twenties? You know what that means, man? They’re still making hippy jam bands! Didn’t the death of hippy santa, the subsequent disbanding of the Dead, the slowdown and hiatus of Phish, the completely stupid name of the Stringcheese incident and the general realization that these people are a bunch of stinky dildos teach the kids anything? HOW ARE PEOPLE STILL DOING THIS? Anyway, I was through the roof, so I did what any self respecting person would do.
I booed.
I booed the shit out of this band. Over and over and over and over as loud as I possibly could. Their gross merch skank with her hairy armpits and new york slice of a bush was ‘grooving to the energy’ and giving me a dirty look at the same time, so I booed her ass too. Booo! Stupid hippies! Boo!
I guess I kind of see it as when your parents shame you when you do something ridiculously stupid. I was helping these kids out, man. I booed them mercilessly. I was trying to show them the consequences of being so recklessly unacceptable. And you know what they did? They smiled and kept jammin’ bro. How cool is that? They didn’t let the neg vibes harsh their mellow, not for a bit, bro. The groove must go on, bro. The groove must go on. Ugh.
I seriously thought their band was called Electric Rhinoceros, too, or Technicolor Rhinoceros, and that was pissing me off, until I realized that their actual name was so much worse than that. See, though, the thing about an ultraviolet hippopotamus is, he’s not visible to the naked eye. Chew on that, bro.
This is all making me very angry. Let’s just suffice it to say I don’t like hippies. And you didlos in Smile High, if you’re out there, you guys suck too, and regardless of your bullshit shenanigans that cost Gladhand (yes, I know) the BHS battle of the bands title in 92, your dumb hippy ways have only made me stronger. I don’t care how big your parents house was, or how big yours is now. I played real music in fucking Japan, Europe, Australia, Mexico and Cleveland and got paid for it, you fucking fake hippy dicks. Heh.

24 comments:

Eric said...

Best post ever.

Civil Danarchy said...

I agree with Eric, bro.

James Bliss said...

Delightful!

Amy said...

WORD

haha.

tobiasjeg said...

When I saw Ultraviolet Hippopotamus I totally got lost in the music, dude. Actually I just walked outside.

SWAYBACK said...

dude i was in smile high and i'm one of your best friends. poser

SaulioSBJ123 said...

Speaking of Ben and Jerry's...Ultraviolet Hippopotamus sounds like a flavor.

maxgotesman said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Andrew said...

If nothing else, your blog title reminded me to go listen to "Sunshine" by Screeching Weasel. So that was nice.

Robb said...

Trustafarians, I believe is the term, BK. Or do they only become trustafarians post-high school?

Mark said...

I totally grew up in Boulder.

I seem to remember it being cooler than you describe it. But I was between the ages of 5-11 when I lived there, so maybe it was actually god-awful.

alkalinepunk13 said...

bahhhh

awesome

artielovescupcakes said...

gladhand! man i have the lyrics to penis manwich haha thats good stuff. I also read an interview where the dude in the sombrero was like 25 when you and chris were like 15 in that band haha...

yes I know way too much abotu anything to do with the arms

P.S Don't Write said...

Don't bottle it up man, just let it all out...

Nico said...

I agree, best post yet.

I love the self-rightousness... when it comes to hippies, we can all be like that...

Nico said...

and yes, you indeed play real music... now PLEASE just come and play it in South Africa... please?

fallingtree99 said...

Larry Arms need to tour with the Cobra Skulls.

SaulioSBJ123 said...

So I'm working on this thing and bored and I got the genius idea just minutes ago to look them up. Oh my god! Their myspace sounds like some country band had sex with Maroon 5 but not consensual. They'll be back Jan. 15th at the Goose Island Brewery. Oh, and I can really hear that Misfits influence that they listed. But, most importantly, their top friend is...drum roll, Psychedelic Elephant Machine Gun!!!!!!!!!! Oh, and this entire post I've had to listen to Dillinger Four mixed with their horrible shit because they have a fucked up myspace that the music never ends on.

Sorry for the double post and such a long rant/post, but they are ridiculous. http://www.myspace.com/uvhippo

Dave said...

This is by far the best post so far.

Incidentally, Brendan, I was at Hollywood video the other night, and saw something interesting. At the end of new releases was a rack of "staff picks" where each employee had prouldy displayed his or her favorite movies. I swear to God one of the dudes working there had "The Butterfly Effect" as one of his recommended picks. And judging by his other selections he was not trying to be ironic.

A Mental Trainwreck said...

ha. yeah. cleveland.

Candice said...

brendan- you sure you're not just jealous that you can't make "booties shake" as well as them?

Troy said...

Hey Brendan, how do I get MY band to play in Australia and Mexico and whatever other places you mentions?

Tyler J. Bernard said...

Yes, best post ever.

I'm proud to say that I SAW you play real music in Cleveland. I'm decidedly less proud to say that I went to Cleveland for my spring break that year.

kylewagoner said...

I've only been listening to punk since the 5th grade and I'm only 16, so I don't know where all of this hate for hippies came from. I have to research and read interviews to learn this shit. I wasn't aware that hippies meshed with jocks at one point in time. The hippies around here are made fun of by the rednecks because long hair on guys is weird. The gals get away with it. I was "Hippy" for a few years of my life, but not by choice. That was just the name I got for my hair in 6th and 7th grade.