wait...team WHO?????

Gooooood morning everybody. It’s another wonderful day in the Ozarks and I’m coming at you semi-live for what will likely be the last time this week. Oh, wait. It’s Friday, so yeah. Definitely the last time this week. Anyhoo, on to the big stuff:

Have you ever heard of Brokencyde? Good, good. I figured you had. BUT, for those few of you who haven’t, Brokencyde is one of the uniquely worst bands of all time. Sure, this kind of hyperbole gets tossed around a lot, especially in this new space age of internet connections and anonymous dipshits having platforms to do and say things that no one on earth would otherwise care about (see: this blog as an example) but in this case, I’m deadly serious. Brokencyde is such a depraved and horrendous example of doing all the wrong things at the exact wrong times that their cannon can truly be called “The Room” of popular music (if you don’t know what the Room is, well, it’s pretty much the best movie ever. You should just stop reading this and youtube “you’re tearing me apart, Lisa” and “Brokencyde freaxx official video” so we can continue this discussion like reasonable human beings.)

Okay, you back? How bout that shit, eh? Told you. Apparently the little squishy one from the Freaxxx video, the one that looks like an uglier rasta muppet version of the dude from sum 41 is named Seven. Yup. Like the number. The fat and balding one with all the bandanas and the belly who’s always hanging around with the guy in the pig costume, his whole job is just doing lights and smoke or something. The whole thing is vastly retarded and it’s made lots of otherwise sensible people very angry.

People like hating Brokencyde more than people like LIKING gaslight anthem. It’s truly a phenomenon that’s hard to work your way through. Brokencyde is hugely popular, and they know that people think they suck and they seem to be cool with it and all the haters and ranting about how they’re truly the WORST only serves to make them more powerful. The results? These people, otherwise reasonable people have gone completely Fred Phelps on Brokencyde, saying things that are vastly, VASTLY inappropriate when talking about a bunch of choads that you don’t know who just make some crappy music that you can turn off or never even turn on.

This came to a head this week when some guy made a fake TMZ website and concocted a story about Brokencyde being arrested on their tourbus with drugs, an underage girl and photos of the various dick tasters in Brokencyde plugging up a ton of other underage girls. According to the story, which, I hasten to repeat is total fabrication, the band was charged with rape, kiddie porn, drug possession and uh...what else? Maybe slavery or something. In short, it was pretty easily the most thorough slander job you could pull off in one go. In a stroke of massive brain loss, a bunch of semi ‘reputable’ news sources (metal hammer is where I get all my news, y’all) printed the story, at which point all sorts of anonymous dickweeds got on message boards everywhere and generally ejaculated massive amounts of glee, almost as though the Brokencyde deesh DESERVED to be purveyors of child porn and perverts because their music is unpalatable.

That’s not that cool. But it gets much, much lamer.

Once the story was revealed to be fake, this same cabal of anonymous internet choads expressed massive disappointment that the story was fake, somehow reasoning that the loss of Brokencyde as a musical entity (and the subsequent excuse to completely write them off as perverts and criminals and thereby “win” some sort of pointless and dumb argument about relevant culture [presumably with Brokencyde fans, so…uh, way to win an argument with those tards, everyone]) is enough of a reward that the crimes that they allegedly committed (remember! Raping and photographing underaged girls!) would be a small price to pay. In essence, the mob decided that they’d rather have this group of dudes be child pornographers than be musicians, and uh…that’s so incredibly FUCKED UP that I don’t even know where to start weeping.
Look, I’m no prude and I’m no Brokencyde apologist or anything. I think they’re a big shitty sack full of smaller sacks of burning, rotten turds, but man, there’s nothing cool about calling an innocent person a child porn connoisseur and/or rapist. It’s so irresponsible and gross and fucked up and my friends, it’s the beginning of the end of free society.

Lest you think I’m being dramatic, think about it: Someone calls these dudes rapists, news outlets pick it up, no one does any fact checking (thank you internet retardation!) people scan the headlines: Boom! Brokencyde condemned. They’re now drug abusing child photographing rapists and sure, the part where they end up in jail hasn’t come to be YET, but the notion that one guy could suddenly get the world at large to be SURE that a bunch of innocent dudes are depraved sexual deviants and offenders in one lazy Tuesday morning seemed like an impossible notion just a few years ago. Mark my words: this kind of shit is the beginning of the end, and it’s terrifying.

Now, there are lots of people out there who have said things like this: “well, Brokencyde promotes misogyny and violence in their lyrics, so it’s not only totally believable, it’s also kind of their fault” or “well, they deserve that shit because their music is so bad.” These are obviously two very different statements. The first is serious, the second is kind of a joke, but what these two statements have in common is massive retardation that can only be perpetrated by the dumbest of human beings. Here’s the response, folks:
1) They can sing about whatever the fuck they want to. When you cite their musical content as proof of their character, you sound like your Christian aunt talking about Judas Priest. You sound like the dimwit televangelist railing against hip hop or Little Richard back in the day. You don’t have to like what they’re singing about, folks. You don’t have to like the iconography in the videos. In fact, you can think that they’re disgusting mongoloid turds that promote everything you hate. Hell, that’s what your redneck uncle thinks about Nas, and you can have that same opinion about Brokencyde, BUT!!!!!! Don’t suddenly turn around and decide that kind of rhetoric in pop culture is dangerous when you (white [or at the very least, immersed in white culture] internet user, probably male, interested in punk rock and/or various subgenres of modern aggressive music, and generally probably not as dumb as you come off sounding on the internet) laughed at people who said that Grand Theft Auto promoted violence or that Better By You Better Than Me caused those buzzards to kill themselves in the 80’s, or that Relax by Frankie Goes to Hollywood was really about gay sex (wait, what? It is? Huh…makes sense I guess. Anyway…).
Okay, so last example notwithstanding, you get the point. You can’t just up and decide that because brokencyde is bereft of talent, that suddenly they’re the ones who are actively promoting and contributing to the moral decay of society without falling in line with the rest of the party pooping jesus pumping shitheads that came before you, who said the exact same things about the shit you like.

2) The idea that they somehow “deserve” to be slandered as sex offenders (and even drug offenders) is massively fucked up, be it because of the content or the quality of their music. I don’t like Brokencyde any more than you, kids, but uh…seriously? Shit’s uncool. That’s the equivalent of saying that a decorated war hero was actually a cowardly sack of queefs trembling in the back of a swift boat during viet nam just because you don’t like the fact that he’s erudite, boring and into upholding Roe v. Wade. Wait, what? That happened too? Sheesh.

Look, you guys get my drift, right? These dudes are butt tasting hacks and their songs are little more than audio penis sores, but this entire thing is so fucking lame that I’m finding myself in the unfortunate position of having to go ‘team brokencyde’ and I don’t like it one bit. So listen, can we stop with this shit, folks? I don’t want to sit here and side with these dildroids any more than I absolutely have to, but when the opposition is a torch bearing mob of assholes with shitty malicious smiles and a taste for blood, I got no choice. Lay off Seven and the fat one, kay? And the pig and also the guy in the pig costume. See what I did there? I called the one guy a pig and then it got funny cuz I was….never mind. Just go back to talking about how much these dudes are losers, and they’ll go back to laughing at you from their nice homes and the balance will be restored and I’ll go back to telling dick jokes and writing terrible songs that I somehow think are way better than Brokencyde’s catalog even though they appeal exclusively to tubby losers with beards and girlfriends a little too good looking for them. Yeah, that’s right. I’m talking to you. You know who you are.

Oh yeah, now’s as good a time as any to mention that I’ve got a record written and I’m just kind of figuring out what to do with it. It’s not TLA, it’s not the Falcon and it’s not really ‘punk’ so much as punk influenced rock, and as such, I’ve got no idea where to put it out or what to do with it. I’ve got the players, but not a ton else. So, here’s your chance, industry mavens who secretly read my blog: sign me up! I’m gonna be huge! Next Brokencyde huge! Beliedat!

Enjoy your death trap ladies!

xoxoxoxox

You know where you are?

So, yesterday I was surfing the internet and I came across a review of Chinese Democracy from the NewYork Times. The review essentially said that the album is lifeless, overthought, overwrought and ultimately way too long and way too dull. This is funny because the review in question was two full pages long and was so hellbent on making sure that we, the readers, understood that the reviewer was A) a competent writer B) An expert on Guns N Roses C) An expert on recording music and D) extremely bummed by the results of Axl’s 17 or whatever year opus, that he ended up writing the Chinese Democracy of reviews, in that it was lifeless, overthought, overwrought and ultimately way too long and too dull.
I realize that people in New York are really into meta- shit and doing stuff that seems stupid until you realize that in fact, dumb farm boy, it’s YOU that’s the stupid one (for example, have you seen any of those juxtapositions of shit and Jesus? It’s wild, man. Someone like, shits, right? Then they put Jesus into the shit somehow. You see what I’m talking about? Sounds dumb, but then you realize ‘DUDE! This guy’s totally pointing out that shit fetishism in America has reached this zealotry that approaches a religious paradigm! Jokes on me! I’m the fucking moron, not the guy taking dumps in an art gallery!) SO, I suppose it’s possible that this reviewer is a genius and he figured that the best way to distill just HOW impossible Chinese Democracy was to get through, was to write a review of it that was also a review of his review that somehow hit all the points of the review while simultaneously exemplifying them, but I doubt it. The guy’s a music journalist for the New York Times…That’s like being the American Ambassador to Monaco. It’s a completely pointless job that makes some dumb prick feel exceedingly important. And man, if you can find me a more inherently verbose combination than New York Times Music Journalist, I’d be pretty impressed. Um…how about coked up art critic lecturing a college Art History class at NYU? That could actually even be the same guy. Huh. Okay, so it’s settled: I’ve contributed to the entropic unraveling of our universe by further commenting on this already bloated area of dicourse, and for that I should be reprimanded.
You know how there are people out there that just bring out the best in you? Like, for example, I don’t know what it is, but I’m always at my peak of wittiness and funniness when I’m with my friend Matt. I don’t know if it’s just that HE’S really funny and it’s like that thing where a bunch of hot chicks go out and the one scud that’s hanging with them kind of just looks hot too because she’s surrounded by so much gourmet clam, or if it has something to do with his expectations of me and my willingness to meet said expectations, but yeah. It’s nice to be around people who bring out the best in you.
My friend Chris DJ’d last night, and I went for a while. Eventually, I had to pull an Irish goodbye, which is, as per my understanding, where you piss in a potted plant, tell the hostess to go fuck herself and shit your pants on the drunken car ride home (or when you just bail without saying anything to anyone…depending on how racist you are towards the irish) but he did a really good job. Great, in fact. Someone in there was making him the best DJ he could possibly be. I think it was Tullamore Dew. Okay, I have to go to work, which I’m dreading significantly more than usual.
Oh, the show was super fun and although the caviar wasn’t that-day fresh, the assholes they were served in more than made up for it. Okay, toodles.