Rancid Set To Record Their First Ever American English Language Album
Posted by Keith Spillett in General Weirdness on February 21, 2014
After spending the better part of 20 years uttering a completely indecipherable mixture of portuguese, broken English, latin, spanish, urdu, punjabi, swahili, clicking noises and grunts, ska punk band Rancid plans to record their next album “Songs That Kind of Sound Like The Clash” in pure American English.
The band’s “singer”, Tim Armstrong has spent the last six months in an intensive American English language immersion program that will allow him to sing in a way that is moderately coherent to the people of The Greatest People on Earth.
Early on in his career, many music fans believed that Rancid’s enigmatic singer was attempting to gain a distinct sound for the band that allowed them to stand apart from the other 7,000 or so bands who came out around that time and sounded exactly the same. Others were concerned he had accidentally severed his tongue. At first, Armstrong was troubled by these accusations, but later he learned to brush aside many of the criticisms.
He told Rolling Stone magazine in an interview last year this year that “sema cunna sima, heh heh, the new kid is blacajema, sayin’ like a hema slucka jem-inon, heh, Yeah! Sa…YEAH!”
While Rancid’s fame has diminished over the past few years, many fans still fondly remember when they rocketed to fame on the heels over several hit singles including “Ruby Soho”, “Roots Radical” and “Semi-Comma Henem Draaba”.
Armstrong At A Political Rally Last Fall
In 2004, they recorded the critically acclaimed “Ehhh..Guple Dema”, a poignant reflection on Tim Armstrong’s difficult divorce and his lifelong battle with cerebral moosebumps. After that, they all but disappeared from the music scene. Now, they are back and ready to make sense. They parted ways with long time concert translator Michael Stepanac and plan to rely solely on words that can be understood by a good portion of The Hardworking and Pious American Public.
Rancid had faced protests at concerts back in the early 2000s from nativist groups who wanted to deport Armstrong to Iraq for not speaking, as Moral Majority Leader Jerry Falwell referred to it, “The Language of God and Freedom”. Many Americans, particularly in the southeastern portion of The Land Our Savior Has Smiled Upon and Granted Endless Bounty have taken a break from getting worked up about the many satanic spells buried in the Obamacare bill and have become deeply concerned about this new assault upon Our Way of Life.
Lawmakers in Georgia have considered passing legislation that prohibits Armstrong from speaking anywhere in the state. In Texas, many Righteous and Upstanding Citizens of This Great Nation are concerned that the new album will begin in English and then veer off into “one of the many mud languages spoken by the terrorists who live in other countries”.
According to former Texas governor Rick Perry, “This new album is like that Trojan Horse that the Romans used to defeat the Germans in World War The First One. It will pretend to be in American English, but if you play it backwards, it will be no different than their earlier stuff.”
Watain to Cover “Let It Be”; Kill Remaining Beatles
Posted by Keith Spillett in General Weirdness on February 17, 2014
In what may be the most bold and audacious publicity stunt in the history of heavy metal, black metal superstars Watain plan to murder the two living members of the band the Beatles to coincide with the release of their next record “Death’s Dark Darkness Darkens”. However, in tribute to the most famous band in rock and roll history, they also have planned to open the album with a black metal reworking of the Beatles classic “Let It Be”.
Killing both Ringo Starr and Paul McCartney will certainly not be a simple task, especially since the band has announced its intentions in advance. However, according to lead singer and former Mossad assassin Erik Danielsson, getting to Ringo might not be all that difficult. “Honestly, if you look at the guy, he’s about two glasses of wine away from renal failure. He’s in such bad shape, the other day he asked Lemmy if he could borrow his liver.”
That being said, getting to McCartney could be much more difficult. Immediately after plans for his execution by Watain were announced, he moved into an underground bunker guarded by former Secret Service members along with twelve members of the Hell’s Angels motorcycle gang. In spite of the obstacles, Danielsson feels that the band’s high level training in urban combat, guerilla warfare and carjacking will allow them to overpower the guards and “have McCartney’s head on a stick on the roof of our tour bus by July.”
Watain are no strangers to assassinations. Guitarist Pelle Forsberg was a member of Seal Team Six, the group responsible for the murder to noted terrorist and blogger Osama Bin Laden. According to recently released CIA documents, drummer Hakan Jonsson orchestrated several attempts on the life of Cuban leader Fidel Castro, including trying to send him exploding cigars and planning a misguided endeavor where Castro would be trapped in his bedroom and drowned in thousands of tons of frozen yogurt.
Danielsson remains confident in the slaying abilities of Watain. “Look, if we could get to Robert Kennedy, Malcolm X, Whitney Houston and the drummer from Hanoi Rocks, what makes you think we can’t put that little twerp McCartney in the ground?”
High School Football Phenom Clement “Babalu” Attlee Signs With Venom
Posted by Keith Spillett in Blithering Sports Fan Prattle on February 4, 2014
The 1981 National Championship Venom Team
The high stakes game of recruiting between the top programs in the country for running back Clement “Babalu” Attlee came to an end early this morning when he announced his intent to join heavy metal band Venom. Attlee, the all-time leading rusher in California history, starred for four years at Richard L. Ramirez High School in Monterey Park. The school went 46-0 and won four state championships thanks to the speed and strength of Attlee, the nation’s Number 1 prospect.
Attlee was considered a three star prospect as a junior. However, in spite of his obvious ability, at 6’0 150 pounds, he was considered not physically developed enough to become a high-level college player. However, thanks to daily injections of aloe, B-12, botulism and black tar heroin coupled with a sadistic workout regiment, Attlee grew to 5’6 470 pounds during the summer without losing any of his trademark quickness.
Many experts were surprised at Attlee’s choice of Venom. After all, Venom hasn’t been a national powerhouse since the graduation of two-time Heisman Trophy winner Abbadon. In spite of producing quality performers like Anthony “Antton” Lant, Alastair “Big Al The Demolition Man” Barnes, Steve “War Maniac” White, and Clive “Jesus Christ” Archer, Venom have never been able to live up to the glory days when Mantas, Abbadon and the Red Light Fever defense ruled the gridiron and won five consecutive national championships.
Attlee At His Workout Day For Venom
Up until yesterday, it looked like Attlee would sign with either Georgia, Penn State, or Testament. However, he ruled out Georgia and Penn State because of the harsh winter weather and feared having to share snaps with All-American tailback Chuck Billy if he joined Testament. Earlier front-runners Slayer lost traction with Attlee after rumors of recruiting violations during the signing of drummer Dave Lombaro led many football analysts to believe the band might soon be put on NCAA probation.
During his signing day press conference, Attlee put four skulls on the press table (each labeled the name of one of his final four possible selections). He smashed the first three with hammers, then drank yak blood out of the one marked Venom, cueing the press that he had made his choice.
When asked about why he chose Venom, Atlee did not hesitate to name his number one reason. “I wanted to play for Cronos,” said Attlee as he wiped the blood and bone matter off of his face. “He’s been laying down some of the heaviest bass riffs and most guttural vocals since 1979. The guy is a legend. He’s also a good Christian man who spends a lot of his off-season washing the feet of the poor and building churches in war torn Borneo. Most importantly, a few years with Coach Cronos and I feel like I’ll be ready to be the best NFL prospect I could possibly be.”
Rob Zombie To Open Chain of “More Hunan Than Hunan” Chinese Restaurants
Posted by Keith Spillett in General Weirdness on February 3, 2014
You can now add restaurateur to the list of the many accomplishments in the career of former White Zombie vocalist and director Rob Zombie. In 2017, Zombie plans on opening ten heavy metal themed eateries in major markets including New York City, Los Angeles, Chicago, and Billings, Montana.
These upscale, casual restaurants will be known as “More Hunan Than Hunan” and offer the best in Chinese cooking. A similar venture known as “Say You Love Szechuan” opened 10 years ago by Immortal frontman and gluten-free cellphone creator Abbath recently went bankrupt after human skull fragments were found in a plate of moo shoo pork.
The recent trend of heavy metal themed food items and dining establishments have become highly popular over the last few years. Iron Maiden’s Trooper Beer has generated a major buzz in bars around the world. Danzig Burger, a new chain in the American Southwest, features several types of burgers all marinated in wolf’s blood. Even some Wendy’s are getting into the act by test marketing a Lemmy Burger. The hamburger, which features a liquid grain alcohol center, has gotten rave reviews from critics.
Zombie, known more recently for his reputation for creating violent, gore filled films, is actually an ethical vegetarian and has been since 1982. Because of this, he plans to offer a strict vegetarian menu using an assortment of creatively hidden mock meats. However, one out of every thousand customers will be slaughtered by an angry group of redneck clowns in order to amuse the other patrons.
Thrash Or Die Is A Band: Mayonnaise Disciples of Review
Posted by Keith Spillett in Pointless Music Reviews on January 14, 2014
Deep from the hills of Caligula rode a horse with no name. And that name was Thrash. From the bowels of the Everywhere and the end of the Nowhere. Gnarfeling Garthocks from the hills of Montezuma to the fields of Tripoli. Galloping gyrating priapysmic Persepolis of perception. Panopticon of pleasure. Purple people. Eaters. And that name was Thrash.
Open to Track 2012. Truck Turner was a man with a plan and that plan was Panama. And the name of that plan was Thrash. Mountains upon mountains of mayonnaise; wandering Muppets of malfeasance. Pituitary puppets of penultimate progress. Then why do you call his name? Whomever begat the beginning and began the begetting. Retroactively saved. Radioactively shaved. Seen through the crawling eye. The one-eyed wonderer wobbled into town. With the sunset at his back and the western sky on his trunk. He wore a hat and his name was stenciled in blood and guts into his cavernous chest. And that name was Thrash.
Barfing sarcophagus. Thrash or Die is a diet. Thrash or Diet will not die. Vomit induced vomit on a Friday night. Metal Thrashing Muppets. Muppet Thrashing Mad. Vomit till we party. Party like it’s 1929. Falling into the ever-loving void. Named after the one who cannot be named. And that name was Thrash.
Mountains of morbid mosh potatoes mangle a Moshpit Messiah. WAKE UP! The Return of the Thrashlord destroys your spinal cord. WAKE UP! A fetal flurry of Fatal Fury and the precise precision of Terrorvision. WAKE UP! To the sound of galloping rage that will nuke your ribcage. WAKE UP! To the name that will maim and defame the lame all the way to the heavy metal Hall of Fame. And that name was Thrash.
That canal was rooted in his tooth. That tooth was rooted in his face. That face was rooted in his mind. That mind was rooted in reality. That reality was rooted in belief. That belief was rooted in error. That error was rooted in faith. That faith was rooted in progress. That progress was rooted in death. That death was rooted in name. And that name was Thrash. And that name was Thrash or Die.
Setting The Record Straight: The Truth Behind Five Popular Heavy Metal Stories
Posted by Keith Spillett in Totally Useless Information on January 13, 2014
Often at this website, we are accused of fabricating stories or writing “joke news” articles. While we consider this sort of attack on our jurnalizmcore integrity to be unfounded and patently absurd, we are willing to admit that there is a good deal of fake news out there parading as truth. Tyranny of Tradition’s staff of over 500 reporters, 700 editors and 3,000 fact checkers constantly strive to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. The same cannot be said for many of the best-known acts in heavy metal.
The truth is that many of the most memorable stories in metal history are just that, stories. Nothing more than creations of either the artist or the record label in order to drum up attention for the band. Here are a few of the most famous myths in heavy metal history unmasked once and for all.
Myth #1: Dio Invented The Heavy Metal Horns Up Hand Symbol In Praise of The Devil
For a myth to be effective, it often has to have a shred of truth in it. While it is true that Dio first used and popularized the symbol, it was not invented as the shout out to Satan that most people think. While Dio was touring with the band Elf in 1972, the band visited Canberra, Australia. While there, he was performing in front of a crowd filled with mostly deaf aborigines.
During the first song, many in the crowd realized that Dio’s fly was unzipped. The symbol in Aboriginal Sign Language for “your fly is down” is the horns hand gesture. Hundreds of people began flashing the sign to Dio, who, thinking it was a spontaneous show of enthusiasm for his music, began flashing it back. Finally, he realized why they were doing it and took care of the embarrassing situation. However, he was so impressed by the sea of horns up hand signs, he began incorporating it into his stage act. Satan had nothing to do with it.
Myth #2 Suicidal Tendencies Singer Mike Muir Is A Jehovah’s Witness
We are often astonished at how many people in our culture are members of this religious movement. From Prince to Venus and Serena Williams to Abbath, there are many recognizable cultural icons that you wouldn’t think are Jehovah’s Witnesses but are. Some, like Abbath, even still go door to door preaching The Word. Mike Muir, however, is not one.
An article appeared 3 years ago in USA Today about the religions history in which Muir was described as an active member of the faith. The reporter confused Mike Muir from Suicidal Tendencies with Mike Muir, a carpenter from San Luis Obispo, California. Don’t expect Cyco Miko to come a’knocking at your door anytime soon.
Myth #3 Dave Mustaine Was Once in Metallica
In many ways, this is truly The Great Rock’N’Roll Swindle. It started as a joke between friends Lars Ulrich and Dave Mustaine. The two concocted a pretend feud centered on a made up story about Mustaine being kicked out of Metallica. This was completely untrue. Over the years, the joke has gotten somewhat out of control with Mustaine going so far as to put a song exactly like a Metallica song on a Megadeth album (Mechanix, a direct copy of The Four Horseman) and several doctored photos and videos of Mustaine with Metallica floating around on the internet. Things really reached a ridiculous level in 2004 when Ulrich and Mustaine created the hysterical “little Danish friend” scene in the Spinal Tap sequel known as “Some Kind of Monster”.
Myth #4 Happy Days Actor Scott Baio Was The Original Drummer For Slayer
This is yet another in a series of examples of how, as Mark Twain once said, “A heavy metal lie can go halfway around the world before the truth can put on it’s combat boots”. Scott Baio, known for his work on sitcoms “Happy Days” and “Charles In Charge”, was linked to the band on several websites earlier this year including a Facebook site called “I Bet I Can Get A Million Lithuanians To Tell Kerry King To Let Scott Baio Back In Slayer.” The rumor, as strange as it sounds, wasn’t all that far from the truth. Baio is, in fact, a die-hard metal head and played drums briefly in the 80s thrash band Forbidden, but was never in Slayer.
Myth #5 Cronos is The Uncle of British Princess Kate Middleton
This ridiculous, unfounded rumor was circulated around the Internet by some 3rd rate metal Onion site. Why an Onion would be made out of metal is beside the point. Typically, Mother Nature is capable of producing both metals and vegetables, but rarely has she seen fit to create a hybrid of the two. And what would be the point of such a vegetable?
Anyway, this rumor got so out of control that the Royal Family was forced to issue denials and actually barred the writer from ever visiting England. But, he was not planning on going there anyway, because he had heard that British people eat fish and chips off of newspaper. Which is disgusting.
2013: Year of The Hideous Baby Name
Posted by ndreaj in Excessive Cruelty Towards Strangers on January 1, 2014
One of the hideous, terrible truths about parenting is that with one stroke of the pen you are capable of sentencing a child to a lifetime of cringing every time attendance gets read aloud in a classroom and cowering sheepishly while handing in job applications. Marshall McLuhan once said “a name is a numbing blow from which a man never recovers.” In the case of many of the names dropped on poor, unsuspecting infants this year, one would expect them barely able to walk by the time they are 35. 2013 was a year that famous parents sentenced their children to name based humiliation at a near record pace.
In any society that valued justice or decency, parents who name their kids things like Type Two Diabetes or Pusillanimous would be rounded up and caned in the public square. Do celebrities really need more attention than they already get? By giving their babies ridiculous names, not only are they garnering more attention in the media for themselves, they are also dooming their child to a lifetime of recognition as a psuedo-celebrity that will never be taken seriously.
Honestly, would you go see a gynecologist named Respektdakrew Smith, OBGyN? Or a lawyer named Heavenly Flowing Lava Monster Bison-Lipton, Attorney at Law? Probably not. These unfortunate kids will have to live off of reality TV and royalties from tell all novels about their parents eating the flesh of homeless people at Hollywood parties.
The other problem with celebrity baby names is that they create a culture in which lesser celebrities copy their unfathomable taste, thereby creating, if you can believe it, even worse names. In any given year you will see themed clusters of baby names around, say, like automobiles, or intestinal parts. The following is a brief year-in-review of the worst names of 2013.
First there was Everest Hobson, (girl), born to George & Mellody Lucas. While the original name was not so bad, the names that followed in the theme of mountains seemed to lose their charm with each new birth. This May, Charlie Day and Elizabeth Ellis named their newborn daughter Matterhorn Lucas. Not to be outdone, Mark Duplas and Katie Aselton names their son baby Titicaca. Finally the anchor from Channel 2 News in Chicago upped the ante on mountain baby names and ended the trend when he dealt the punishing blow by bestowing the name K2 on his baby girl.
Bear Winslet, Kate Winslet & Ned Rocknroll’s son, popped out of the womb with a machete and a flint, ready to spend the night inside a dead camel for survival. This name was silly enough, but this sparked Lauren Parsekian to name her daughter Pink Fairy (a type of armadillo). The animal names continued with Jason Sudeikis and Olivia Wilde calling their son Parastratiosphecomyiastratiosphecomyioides. But the worst animal name goes to Sacha Baren Cohen and Isla Fisher who named their twin daughters Embarrassment and Panda. An embarrassment is the technical term for a group of pandas, and is also what these parents should be feeling about their naming abilities.
More embarrassment arrived with the naming of Emile Hirsch’s son, Valor, who was obviously showing noble characteristics when he escaped the womb while screaming bloody murder with tears rolling down his cheeks. Other notable but flawed character trait baby names this past year include Joanna Newsom’s daughter Fanatical and Will and Jada Pinkett Smith’s son, Vacuous.
Even heavy metal, whose artists once went out of their way to avoid mainstream trends, have gotten into the fray. Dave and Madolyn Mustaine named their newest daughter Psychotron. Venom frontman Cronos and his wife, television star Fran Drescher, brought young Ayatollah Khomeini Lant into being last month. Slayer axe man Kerry King and his bride of 10 years, former Texas Senator Kay Bailey Hutchinson, decided to cash in on an offer from a major corporation and name their child Smoothie King (Burger King made a slightly lower bid).
Shall I continue with the list of offenses? Kim Kardashian & Kanye West named their daughter North, prompting a rare copycat move by Bradgelina (who could have easily started their own trend) who named their adopted daughter, In That General Direction.
Of course, every year the nature loving hippies have to sacrifice their child’s named identities to prove their love for the great mother, the wolf teat, or whatever it is they are worshipping these days. Holly Madison named her daughter Aurora Rainbow, Channing Tatum and Jenna Dewan-Tatum named their son Mitochondria Cell-Division, and Kaitlin Olsen named her baby girl Chlamydia Luekorrhea. It kind of makes you miss the good old days of Moonunit and Dweezil.
As much as we can hope and pray that this celebrity baby naming madness will come to an end, we know from scientific graphs drawn by lemurs paid in cicada that it will only get worse. Luckily, the heat death of the universe is just around the corner and all of these really clever ideas and fascinating people will one day be sucked into a vast nothingness in which their existences will no longer matter to anyone or anything.
Steven Tyler Gives Terminally Ill Man Dying Wish By Cancelling Aerosmith Concert
Posted by Keith Spillett in Excessive Cruelty Towards Strangers on December 27, 2013
Tyler Moments After Saving A School Bus Filled With 5,000 Children From Drowning After A Crash In The Andes Mountains
Most people incorrectly perceive the world of rock’n’roll as a carnival of demented, brainless narcissists willing to claw their grandmother’s eyeballs out for ten seconds of media attention. While this is true about 99 percent of the time, there are some artists out there who quietly work to make the world a better place. One such person is Aerosmith front man Steven Tyler.
Beyond writing some of the most moving and powerful rock songs of the 1980s and 90s, Tyler is a compassionate man who believes it is his sole purpose in life to give of himself to others. From negotiating an end to the Eritrean-Ethiopian War in 2000, to risking his life while singlehandedly saving a raft filled with burning puppies and kittens that were about to go over a 600 foot waterfall in Ghana, to donating his colon and lower intestines to a group of needy children in Laos, Tyler has truly made a difference in this world.
That’s why it was no surprise when Tyler made the ultimate sacrifice by canceling Aerosmith’s scheduled concert last Friday at The Cow Palace in San Francisco. Tyler did so in order to honor the dying wish of Brian McCloud, a terminally ill man who passed away on Wednesday after a yearlong battle with Moosebumps. McCloud, who always despised Aerosmith’s music and Tyler in particular, wanted more than anything else to stop another group of concertgoers from having to endure horrendous live versions of “Janie’s Got A Gun” and “Love In An Elevator”.
“If I could do one thing to make the earth a better place, it would be to save the eardrums of a group of strangers from the vomit-inducing sounds that fall out of Steven Tyler’s bloated, pig mouth….even just for one night,” said McCloud as his last breath escaped his body.
Tyler was so moved by McCloud’s plea he initially agreed to have his voicebox removed and buried with McCloud, but later reneged on this offer when the family of the deceased implied that it might be in poor taste. Instead, he will have his tongue stapled to his forehead as an act of contrition for subjecting the public to almost 30 years of misery. Tyler plans to play less shows next year to honor McCloud’s memory.
“When you hear about a guy and he’s, like, on his deathbed, pleading for you to stop singing and literally tries to strangle the male nurse by his bedside in his last moments because he thinks it might be you….That’s powerful, man. That hits you right here (pointing to chest). You really see how your music can touch people’s lives,” said a misty-eyed Tyler during his daily hot yoga session.
Moshing Towards Bethlehem Or How Eugenics Can Save Heavy Metal
Posted by Keith Spillett in BlaK Dan's Theatre of Cruelty on December 25, 2013
The Falcon Can’t Hear The Falconer
(My brother-in-law BlaK Dan (or Zarathustra as he now likes to be called) has emerged from his cave in the mountains of North Georgia to eat a free meal at our house, scare my children with stories about Varg Vikernes and share his vision of how to save heavy metal from the forces of non-metalness. My wife asks me, as a favor, to let him write for the site occasionally in order to feel “useful”)
Let’s face it folks, the heavy metal world is in crisis. An invasion of hipsters, mall goths, meth-heads, beardos and garden variety morons have turned what was once a great scene into an embarrassment. Things have gotten so bad, the other day I told a guy at a party that I listen to nothing but folk music and trip hop. When you can’t turn on your television without seeing Ozzy Osborne’s wife hocking skin care products, when you hear the members of Savatage rocking out Christmas songs over the PA system at your local Wal-Mart, when 7/8s of the youth of America are unable to name a Metallica song besides “Enter Sandman”, when Iron Maiden spends the majority of their time writing 25 minute adult contemporary songs and selling craft beer…we are in deep trouble!
The center has not held. Real heavy metal is dying a slow, painful death and it seems like there is nothing we can do to stop it. Metal was once pure. People wore their hair long, played loud and wore denim jackets with Venom patches on them. But, those days are over. At a metal show today, you are likely to see a nightmare panorama of Buddy Holly glasses, pink hair, iPhones, ear gauges, and Chelsea Grin shirts.
Some of this breakdown in heavy metal morality can be linked to environmental causes like radiation from the Fukushima meltdown and the widespread use of tetanus vaccinations. However, the root cause of the deracination of true metal can be traced back to a much deeper, more profound issue. That issue is genre mixing.
It started innocently enough. A little bit of synth on an Iron Maiden album, Anthrax experimenting with hip hop, female vocalists fronting death metal bands, Slayer doing a punk album, Pantera… and all of a sudden we are in a vast wasteland of Deafhaven and pirate metal. As we mosh our way into oblivion, it becomes more and more clear that desperate times call for desperate measures. It seems unfashionable to talk about eugenics today in our politically correct world, but, the truth is, it is the only way to save metal from the dark, sinister forces of poseurness.
Subhumans
It is obvious to anyone who spends five minutes at a concert or on a metal message board that there is a hierarchy of metal fans. At the bottom of the ladder are the Hot Topicafied kids who tried to furtively ditch their Justin Beiber loving image by showing up to school one day in an Asking Alexandria shirt. They are the heavy metal Untouchables. If they are wearing a “Ride The Lightning” shirt, chances are they think that is the name of the band. At any moment, they could rediscover the Miley Cyrus album they considered throwing out a week ago and leave the scene altogether. But, they probably won’t.
They are slightly lower on the metal food chain then the hipster metalhead. If you’ve ever seen a dude quoting David Foster Wallace while wearing a Liturgy shirt, you probably know whom I’m talking about. Bookish, frail and generally annoying, these creatures secretly long to find someone else in the scene that owns every Paul Westerberg solo album.
Slightly above them are the dim-witted, slumped shouldered, neckless, meth-addled Pantera/groove metal fans. They randomly shout Slayer at inappropriate times and ramble on about how they wish they could beat up more of the people lower on the metal totem pole. They are noisy, poorly groomed, have enormous craniums and take Cannibal Corpse extremely seriously. Each of them secretly hope you think they are mass murderers, in spite of the fact that they have never done much worse than feed a hedgehog to their pet python. All of these groups fall into the subhuman metal category.
Those Worthy of Being Spared
Above them, there are better types. You have your old school Florida death metal types (Children of Chuck), your loony bird power metal fanatics (Middle Earthers), the veteran thrasheads who saw Exodus on the “Bonded By Blood” tour (Oldbangers), the Eurofabulous obscuritarian types who wander the earth fantasizing about being perceived as the next Wagner (known as Thomas G Warriors, this group was nearly wiped out by the release of Cold Lake) and many other breeds of slightly evolved metalheads. They are certainly not perfect, especially when they want to tell you for the six hundredth time how great Overkill was before Rat Skates left, but they are mostly harmless if kept separate from the upper classes.
The Brahmans
There are two groups of true Brahmans in the metal world. First of all, you have your proto-Nietzschean, back to Mother Earth, church burning, Necronomicon quoting black metal fans (Ubermenschians). They must be pure of heart and eardrum, because only they can actually tell what is happening on an early Darkthrone album. To the lower castes, it is simply noise. To them, it is art.
Above them are the serious New Wave of British Heavy Metal people (Metal Kings). They get the Judas Priest album “Rocka Rolla” at both an artistic and spiritual level. They can recite, from memory, every Diamond Head lyric. They’ll never forget where they were the day Dennis Stratton left Iron Maiden. These are the folks Manowar are really talking about.
The Problem
Were all metalheads to simply stay to themselves and not attempt contact with these other groups, things would probably be okay. But, there has been a mixing of the castes over the past decade. Oldbangers have bred with hipsters, Children of Chuck have mixed DNA with Panterites, Ubermenschians have mated with Thomas G Warriors, Metal Kings have blended with Hot Topicers, on and on South of Heaven. Nowadays most of these metalheads openly admit to listening to other genres and even brag about associating with the lower and upper classes. It’s gotten so that almost no one is pure anymore.
This is where eugenics come in (or UGH!genics, to the Thomas G Warriors). The metal community needs to step in and enforce a series of measures designed to keep these groups from diluting the metal in the blood of the best of us. Otherwise, all will be lost.
The Solution
Step #1: Mandatory Sterilization of All Pantera Fans
These people tend to breed like rabbits. The average Pantera fan has 9.71 children. At this rate, by the year 2030, there will be more Pantera fans than people in Australia, Asia, Europe and South America combined. Pantera genes tend to dominate all other metal genes, so the child of a Panterite and a Metal King will invariably become a Cowboy From Hell. When they begin mixing with other metal fans, the possibility for a “Pantera Population Bomb” where the metal world is only able to support bands that sound like Pantera becomes a very real possibility
Step #2: Deport All of The Lower Metal Classes to Greenland
Here’s how you do it. You build a really big boat. You promise most of them that Metallica will be playing a concert in Greenland where they will do nothing but songs from Kill’em All. You’ll have to explain why this is significant to the Hot Topicers, as they will probably wonder if that means they will play “Until It Sleeps”. Drop them off in Greenland and get out as fast as possible. Occasionally, you can air drop the things they need to survive to them (copies of Spin Magazine for the hipsters, raw meat for the Panterites, and A Day To Remember hoodies for the Hot Topicers).
Step #3 Use Science To Create a Perfect Heavy Metal Being
The human race has yet to evolve to a point where we can scientifically generate perfect beings, but we have to prepare for a day when this is possible. We must make an effort to collect all the DNA from people who purchased the first two Maiden albums on vinyl before 1983 and still have them in pristine condition. We will use that DNA to one day create a Metal Messiah. This Metal Messiah will destroy all those who have false metal blood and lift all those pure in thought and gene to their rightful place as masters of the lower animals. And then, we won’t have to talk to them anymore.
You Own A Gun Because You Are Afraid To Fight Me
Posted by Keith Spillett in Here's Why I Dislike You So Much on December 19, 2013
In America today, guns are often confused as a symbol of masculinity and power. This misconception has been brought about through years of exposure to media images of powerful men with guns defeating Native Americans, Russians, Terrorists, and Orcs. People in this demented nation of ours spend millions upon millions of dollars a year that could actually be used to improve the lot of themselves and those around them in the faint hopes of appearing to be what they are not. But that is beside the point, because I’m not talking to them….I’m talking to you.
Yeah…you. Sitting there on your couch reading this right now. Not somebody else. Not the other guy. Don’t sit there thinking this is some abstract, philosophical exercise that you can remove yourself from while you sit back in judgment of some fictional, moronic cross-section of the American public. It’s not. I’m talking to you. Directly. I can see behind the absurd little lies you tell yourself in order help avoid the painful truth that you are the guy on the beach who gets sand kicked in his face by people like me. The reason you own a gun is because you are a weakling.
Sure, I’ve heard all of your arguments. “The Second Amendment says that I have the right to carry a gun.” You are hiding behind some document that some dudes in wigs wrote 2000 years ago. Everybody who owns a gun is a constitutional lawyer (except when it comes to, you know, the other 26 Amendments). Do you know how utterly hysterical it is to watch you switch from doing your Stallone impression to pretending to be James Madison? “Yeah, I’m a tough guy, but I got smarts too!” (read that last part in your best Fredo Coreleone voice) Put down your law books and we can see what’s up, Tough Guy.
“But, it’s just for hunting.” Sure. You bought that military grade A4 assault rifle that fires 80,000 rounds per second at Walmart so that you can stop a deer from trying to get away. Ah….yeah…that’s it. The truth is, you bought it because you know that if it ever came down to it, I would beat you like a rented mule. That little survivalist fantasy you keep conjuring up in your mind is simply a distraction from the simple truth that you are afraid to catch a beating from me.
I look at Wayne LaPierre, the little geek who runs the NRA, and my first thought is, “wouldn’t it be fun to push his face into a vat of french fry oil at my neighborhood McDonald’s”. If I had that guy in a room for 15 seconds, I’d have him singing the Soviet National Anthem and screaming “Obama in 2016”. Another one of those pasty, bloated old guys who think that having the ability to shoot up a room full of strangers makes people forget that he looks like 140 pounds of whimpering, soft serve ice cream. I’m right here, Tough Guy. Anytime you want. As much of a cowering little baby that LaPierre is, he’s not even half as sad as you are.
“Oh, but I need it to protect my family.” Way to hide behind your children, Ace. See, I’m not a threat to your family. Just you. You are scared that I’m going to drag you through the town square from the back of my Lincoln while all the kids laugh and throw rocks. The sheer volume of humiliation that I would heap upon you is why you’re up at 3 o’clock in the morning trying to figure out if it is legal in your state to own a bazooka.
“But, Obama is coming to get us!” Do you see how silly you sound? All these movies you watch cater to this depressing little fantasy that you are so powerful and cunning that the government actually cares about anything you do. Obama doesn’t care whether you have a gun or not. As a matter of fact, Obama doesn’t care about you at all. He lives in some insulated bubble in Washington, surrounded by hundreds of Secret Service agents, old rich people and really good chefs. Are you really so deluded as to believe that Obama would take a second out of his day to punish some coward sitting behind a computer keyboard typing nasty things about the Kardashian sisters on a Facebook thread? Obama is not your problem…I am.
Your little comedy act is over. Just remember, the next time you buy that copy of Guns and Ammo at the newsstand in order to show what a big man you are, I’ll be there. The next time you swagger out to the range to go kill a bunch of cardboard cutouts of Bin Laden, I’ll be there. And when you are sitting around the locker room pretending to be Mr. Expert, bragging to the fellas with all those fancy expressions like “muzzle breaks and recoil compensators”, so proud of yourself that you used the word “aught” in a sentence, I’ll be there too.
No matter how much you spend on weapons, no matter how many times you practice that thing that Clint Eastwood does with the side of his mouth in the mirror, no matter how many tough talking, pro-violence idiot politicians you support, you can’t avoid me. Don’t you see….I’m inside of you.
The Tyranny of Tradition 