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Category: music?

Look, I Don’t Know How To Break It To You…

Look, I Don’t Know How To Break It To You…


…So I’ll just get to the point. Star Wars, in all its iterations and forms, sucks. It blows. It’s interplanetary, extraordinary tommyrot. It’s 114 percent rubbish, and not very interesting rubbish at that. It’s an incoherent muddle of a story, like twenty-five cut-rate comic books sent through a shredder and then reassembled with the bits in any old order. Even the font they use for the title is ugly. Then again, what do you expect? The whole franchise is the comic sans of entertainment.

I sometimes think of Alec Guinness, a real and accomplished actor, wandering the cheesy sets in a used bathrobe, surrounded by muppets and SoCal stooges, all the while thinking to himself, “I used to be in David Lean movies. I did Lear with Olivier. Now I’m standing next to a guy dressed as a giant marmoset or shrew or badger or something that grunts all his lines. There’s some sort of brass dress dummy and a garbage pail on casters I’m supposed to deliver my lines at. As soon as I get back to the trailer I’m calling my agent to ask him if the check they wrote me is big enough for me to have him killed with enough left over for me to retire.”

And the music? Look, I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but John Williams is a hack. I only worry about hurting the audience’s feelings, because I bet I can’t hurt John Williams’ feelings, He obviously doesn’t have any. Every time I hear any of that atonal twaddle, I wonder to myself, “I wonder who that is playing that song with his elbows? 

But hey; cool organ.

[Thanks to Dadof Homeschoolers for sending that one along]

Real Men Of Genius: Open Enrollment On Parade Day

Real Men Of Genius: Open Enrollment On Parade Day

Practice is for losers.

Let’s face it. It’s hard work getting ready for a parade. You’ve got to figure out what those little runes on the weird grid paper mean, and which buttons to press on the trumpet mean what note, and which notes Henry Purcell preferred over your much, much more inspired notes. And those uniforms — whew, those look expensive, and a bit constricting under the arms. A man’s gotta stay loose. That hat looks like it’s an instant headache. And the fellow leading the convoy scowls a lot when you really start blowin’, man. You go to all the trouble to shoehorn In A Gadda Da Vida into Colonel Bogey’s March, and all you get for your trouble is a glare, and maybe a rap with a baton. 

Tell those stuck-up longhairs that you’re the only person on Earth that read all 16,000 pages of the Affordable Care Act, and parades are definitely mentioned in there, it’s open enrollment, and your pre-existing condition of musical malingering is no bar to entry to their parade. Then let your freak flag fly, son. It’s the law.

It’s Come To My Attention We Need A Theme Song Around Here

It’s Come To My Attention We Need A Theme Song Around Here

Nothing fancy, mind you. It just needs to capture our essential, well, whatsis. The American national anthem used to serve us pretty well, but it’s starting to lose its tone if you ask me. The rocket’s red glare, bombs bursting in air, and so forth and so on sounds pretty invigorating, but there’s a decided lack of interest in getting up in time to see the dawn’s early light these days. We need something from the land of the midnight sun, I reckon.

This one’ll do. It’s got mammoths and vikings and whatnot. Two-thirds of it looks like a Molly Hatchet album cover, and the other third looks like it should be painted on the side of Bill Brasky’s van. You know the one; it’s covered with skulls.

Do you ride mammoths bareback, or do you have a little saddle? I need to know.

I’m Not Sure If This Is A Tribute To His HVAC Skills Or An Insult To Brahms. Either Way, I Love It

I’m Not Sure If This Is A Tribute To His HVAC Skills Or An Insult To Brahms. Either Way, I Love It


Now that’s a manly shop. It’s chock full of stuff, none of it of any use to a normal person. But what use do Borderline Sociopathic Boys have for normal people? I bet you could make any number of things from all that flotsam and jetsam that could put your eye out. Or in this case, an eardrum. 

We also approve of the vest. It’s to hold in all the awesome, natch.