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Fishpocalypse

Fishpocalypse


I want to go fishing there. There’s no lures, no waking up at ass-crack of dawn to catch the fish before they have their morning coffee, no waiting for hours while your line gets tangled in whatever debris litters the bottom of the life-less lake, just plain fishing. You go for a short ride and come home with enough fish to give the local wildlife preservationist a heart attack. Short of fishing with dynamite, this is the only way to roll. Let the fish do all the work while you drift by, sipping a warm beer, and getting a nice tan. If fishing was always like this, I feel people would be more inclined to go out and fish a little instead of doing absolutely anything else.

Fishing suffers from many of the same problems as baseball and soccer because they’re all horrendously boring to talk about, think about, participate in, and watch. Those looking to access a zen-like state of tranquility might enjoy fishing for all the reasons I just mentioned, but those sorts of people should be shunned from polite society. Us normal fun-loving, oxygen-breathing, non-reptilian people prefer to do things with our lives instead of sitting around for hours while the world spins madly on. We like to be the ones compelling the world to spin madly on instead of simply surrendering to it. Having the emotional sophistication of a Buddhist Frenchman is never a good quality.

If I must fish, I will do it by electrifying the lake and collecting the stunned inhabitants with a net, or I will descend into the depths with a bowie knife and return when I’ve finished filleting the wildlife.

Japanese Schoolgirls Make Everything Better

Japanese Schoolgirls Make Everything Better


OK Go has a long history of making great music videos out of alright songs. They’re not bad songs, just alright.

I will freely admit to listening to a few OK Go songs on my own accord, but it doesn’t go much further than that. I’ve never owned a full OK Go album, and I’ve never felt compelled to. I know they come out with an album ever couple years, but they’ve all flown under the radar for me. Every once and a while they make an awesome YouTube video out of one of their newest songs, and that’s the last that I’ll hear from them for a year or more. I’ll throw a couple OK Go songs into heavy rotation on my media player for about a week, and then they’ll get supplanted by another artist. It’s nothing personal, just business. No one’s listening to the songs anyways, it’s all about the videos.

OK Go without the videos is just ok. I’m sure they’d still have a wide fanbase full of dedicated listeners, but their YouTube videos make them into a force to be reckoned with. Their videos are interstellar, man. If they Beatles had someone making videos like this for them, Paul McCartney would be emperor of the Galaxy instead of an ex-member of Wings.

Man, The New Bjork Album Is Fantastic

Man, The New Bjork Album Is Fantastic


At least, I think that’s Bjork. I haven’t really been paying all that much attention to the underground Japo-Scandinavian-Austrian-Icelandic yodeling scene. Personally, I much prefer Australian-Tibetan throat singing, but to each their own.

Despite all outward appearances it seems that this is not Bjork and I have made a grievous error. I’d apologize to Bjork and her several fans, but they’re already coming to beat me like a rented mule, so I don’t know if an apology would reach them before they reached me. But the joke’s on them, they’re going to have to get in line if they want a piece of me. My house is already under assault from NASCAR fans, the Bull Moose party, the Nashville Metro PD, and several UN peacekeepers. I’m pretty sure that the fellows from the UN actually want the house next door, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they were coming to give me a stern talking to as well.

Even though it’s probably too late, and it’s very likely that even more people are coming to destroy my lawn, urinate in my shrubs, and throw eggs at my mini-van, I’d like to say that I’m sorry. As a token of my sorryness, my sorryosity, and my sorryitude, I’d like to present the third greatest yodeler to ever don a lederhosen:

If you’re still here after all that you’re welcome to take a run at me. I thought blasting yodeling from every digital orifice would’ve been enough to scare everyone off, or at least weaken them somewhat.

I Know I Shouldn’t Be Laughing, But…

I Know I Shouldn’t Be Laughing, But…


… Slayer fits in with the Radio Disney vibe a bit too well. Yes, I’m well aware that they’re unsubtly singing about Josef Mengele while trying to be as metal as humanly possible, but a beard and leather pants don’t magically make you hardcore. I wouldn’t be the slightest bit surprised if they’ve guest-starred on an episode of Mickey Mouse’s Play House at one point or another. Maybe I’d think differently if the music was back to normal, but I’m not really sure at this point.

I think my Metal-o-meter is broken or something. I don’t even think I know what metal is anymore. Perhaps if we tried a different band they’d fair better.

Nope, that didn’t help. Without the context offered by the music everything seems a bit silly. I mean, the song is immeasurably improved, but it’s still not quite my cup of tea. Everyone seems to be taking themselves a bit too seriously. There’s no camp, no theatrics, and they don’t seem to be in on the joke. We’ve got to roll back the clock and roll up the hard-rockin’. Music shouldn’t be as fun as a trip to the morgue; It can be so much sillier.

That’s much better.

It’s also important to note that metal can be used for good as well. If anything get’s disgustingly poppy, you can always bring it down a few pegs with some nice blast beats. The outfits don’t change very much, and they’re all wearing the same shade of eyeliner, but at least metal makes Culture Club sort of listenable.