less about suck, more about truth

Without absolutes revealed from without by God Himself, we are left rudderless in a sea of conflicting ideas about manners, justice and right and wrong, issuing from a multitude of self-opinionated thinkers.

John Owen

more about the suck

for me at least, it all started in the summer of 1982. that was when i learned that the human league had pumped out their top 40 hit 'don't you want me' by playing nothing but electronic keyboards. between then and now, popular sound has gone to shite.

see: button-pushing shlock.

1000 and still sucking real hard

this week, lady gaga topped the billboard hot 100. the song with which she so did will likely cause queer america to forget that the village people ever existed. the tune 'born this way' defends 'alternative' lifestyles whilst pounding out a campy beat. of course, in my opinion, this song blows. but it's not alone.

it's been two and a half years since a song that i can actually stomach topped billboard. that was 'viva la vida' in june 2008. it spent one week at the top, then got kicked to the kerb gangsta-style by some repulsive rap shlock.

after digging a bit further, i learned that it was not until 2000 that i found another one-week chart-topper that i could endure. that one was from creed. going back a couple more years i found a tolerable song that spent more than one week at number one. aerosmith's post-'pump' crooning stayed on top for the entire month of june 1998. during the preceding eight years, there were but three more number ones that i liked.

finally in april and may of 1990 (twenty-one years ago!!) i found a solid, well-written, well-performed song. that was sinead o connor's 'nothing compares to you.' so it is, in that direction that i may cast my index finger and declare that the shit hit the fan and knocked it out the window and onto the street, whereupon several eighteen-wheelers with wide loads turned said fan into rubble. and that is precisely what music has become: rubble and excrement.

hotdog, featuring peppers and onions and other junk

PUH-LEEEEEEZE!!!!!!

when billy preston played with the beatles, it was not "the beatles featuring billy preston." they had the balls, logic, knowledge, sense (pick one) to just say "the beatles and (or with) billy preston." just like people use "and" or "with" when they describe what they want on their hotdogs.

ironically, the "feature-ati" are taken in just like hotdogs, processed and and turned into crap. best wishes, featured bieber.

aight, that's epic!

no, this particular gentleman did not (to my knowledge at least) sexually molest the mother tongue. nevertheless, terms such as "epic" and "aight" and "hater" could only have evolved from the brain of one at his level.

next time you're at a justin bieber, blink-182, or lung-dung park show, look around. for mr. aight will be there. and he will have friends. shoulda stuck to bowling with the president.

post script... for all lung-dung park fans, here's a message in your native tongue. much like your "aight," it has no place for the letters "l" or "r."

justin biebe will aways be bette than ung-dung pak. why? you ask. simpe. justin biebe is who he is: a aging pussy tease with vey itte taent. you boys ty to be a eal band. they ty to be in the same eague as (ente non-sucky band name hee.) sucking and subsequenty ying is SO much wose than simpy sucking...

ashes to ashes...

so this where it all began, back in the days when i was banging a seminary student. i had packed on 60 lbs in less than a year and felt pretty dark. then one day, i decided to return to the gym and kick the cheese.

i wish i could say it was that easy and spontaneous this time. (of course i DID still have kidney stones then, so it wasn't absolutely ideal.) anyway, gone shall be that which i believe gives me pain. no, i can't swear that it is milk, cheese, &c. but i do suspect.

and i don't sing like chris cornell, either

so today i headed outside. the snow was still there. the ass-head neighbours were still there. but i went to check out yarn, &c. it was not particularly traumatic. perhaps that is due to the fact that i wanted to get away from the ass-heads. maybe it was because i am in an up flavour.

so i sit by the fireplace and listen to fdr tell me that everything is going to be okay.

it don't get no better than this

the proper fate for drunken veterans: feed em to po po. okay, well screw the 'drunken' part. just let cops and gunnerboys eat themselves.

rust in peace

and with that comes the death of this chapter in the saga of technology raping art. what's next? learn how to click a bic pen so you can 'write' a stephen king novel?

saul, mother would not approve!

don & that 'choke on my daughter' song

when i was 19yo, i delivered pizzas for pizza hut. on occasion, i had the privilege to yoko-ize the deep purple classic 'smoke on the water.' except we didn't call it that. no no! we sang 'choke on my daughter, she's got tremendous thighs!'

that was years before i actually had a daughter or a guitar. the one song i ever really REALLY played, up to speed and in its entirety, was... you got it, 'smoke on the water.' sad, i know. i learned a variety of solos and rhythms and clips, notes, strums, chords. but nothing that i could actually play. and that disturbs me.

i've taken lessons from at least four people. and, except for that brief wisp through the land of richie blackmore, i've learned to play nada. grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...

lucid x

i have few memories of pure xtc. not the drug, mind you, but the state of mind. the first of these that i recall came in the mid 1980s when i met a girl whom i'd traveled half-way around the world to meet. next was a sort of romantic encounter in front of the chicago art institute. finally, a few years ago, an intimate exchange beside the dance floor at an underground night club in madison.

since then? sorry, no. have i given up? most of me would say 'yes.' but periodically, under the effects of happy chemicals, i dream about the xtc that i have yet to see.