Posts Tagged early signs of mental illness
All that is left in my world is Sigh’s new album “In Somniphobia”. I love it. I can’t stop playing it. Over and over and over and over again. I love it so much I want to rip off my shirt and paint the letters S-I-G-H across my chest and run around the local Walgreens screaming at the top of my lungs. I want to beat myself over the head repeatedly with a claw hammer until I do such severe damage to my hippocampus that I forget I’ve heard the album just so I can have the pleasure of experiencing it again for the first time. I long to leap off of a bell tower screaming the lyrics at the horrified spectators. I dream of ripping each of my teeth out and sending it to members of the band to thank them for all the joy they have brought to me.
My love for it transcends all possible love I could experience. I want to go to a beautiful meadow, set out a picnic blanket and caress the album telling it all the things I know in my heart and have been afraid to say. I want to run through a field with it in my arms, laughing girlishly, dancing to the wonderful sounds of the wind whipping through the grass. I want to whisper lovingly into the albums ear, telling it my deepest secrets and most personal desires. Surrender unconditionally to its alluring charms. Bathe it in pure, unadulterated affection.
I feel jealous that others will have the chance to hear this album. When I think of others listening to this album I am filled with rage. I will kill them. I will grind their bones into dust. It is my album. Mine! Their love is cheap and tawdry while mine is filled with the sincerity and innocence of a child. They cannot feel what I feel for this album. They are mere mortals while I have been imbued with the gift of second sight by the god Amen-Ra. They live shallow, meaningless lives. Their love will flicker and fade the minute something else comes along. My attraction will never fade, no matter what happens. If nuclear bombs reign down on the city of Atlanta and all around me is melted and disintegrated, the only thing left will be my boney, skeletal fingers embracing the album, stroking its brow.
Don’t listen to the album. You and the mortals around you don’t deserve it. I’ll know if you are listening to it because I’m in front of your house right now. Watching you. I was at the supermarket yesterday when you bought two bags of pork rinds for 2 dollars and 28 cents. I saw you stop at the gas station and get approximately 8 gallons of gas. I know that you stopped in Hot Topic at 3:45 just to look around. You didn’t buy anything. I am watching you all the time. Even as you sleep. If you dare to listen to this album, I will tie you to a chair and feed you hundreds of pounds cheese dip until either your stomach bursts or your entire body explodes.
I’d give it a 2,389,124 out of 10. I am currently in the process of undergoing a medical procedure to add an additional thumb so I can give it 3 thumbs up. There will never be anything better. Music as we know it is over. People should not even bother to try to create anything else. This is the pinnacle, the zenith, the apogee, the climax of all civilization. It is the Hanging Gardens, the Taj Mahal, the Great Pyramid of Giza, the Mausoleum at Halicarnassus. There is no future, there is no past, there is only Sigh’ “In Somniphobia”.
On some level, we are all Glenn Danzig. I’m not really sure what on earth that means, but it seems like a fair enough way to start this weird monstrosity I’m about to write. Spending a good amount of time on social media sites tends to warp one’s mind a bit. Ideas that would have made Howard Hughes blush start to seem quite normal. All right, enough with this intro….I’m just going to come out and write it…I have spent the last three days of my life trying to become friends with every single person on Facebook who claims to be Glenn Danzig.
I’ll admit, this is a bit strange. I want to be clear that I am not cyber-stalking Danzig himself, simply people who claim to be him. The Internet allows for the human identity to be hidden or warped in many unique ways. How many of us are completely who we claim to be? However, claiming to be Glenn Danzig is a whole other thing. Why would hundreds of people claim to be Glenn Danzig online? Hundreds! I need to know! According to the Tyranny of Tradition Research Department, there are now fake Danzigs on four continents. The spread of fake Danzigism is reaching nearly epidemic proportions.
A terrible thought runs through the back of my mind every time I see a fake Danzig on Facebook. I worry that they may not, in fact, be fakes. Is there some sort of virus spreading throughout the world that converts normal citizens to bloodthirsty Danzig clones? What if these are people who died while listening to Her Black Wings and, somehow, the spirit of Danzig leaped into their bodies turning them into Danzig Zombies? Is there some Boys From Brazil type mad scientist who does nothing all day but take Danzig DNA off of fishnet he wore on the Blackaciddevil Tour in the hopes of creating an army of Clone Danzigs with X-Men type powers? What if these Danzigs have already been created and are marshaling their forces for a full-scale assault on Western Civilization? Indeed, with technology all things are possible.
Another unique aspect of the Internet is that weird people are able to communicate with other weird people that they might have never met. My internet friend Kelly from Canada and I have parlayed our mutual fake Danzig obsessions into a once in a lifetime event….DANZIG BOWL I.
Basically, we are competing to see who can collect the most fake Danzigs by Sunday July 17th at 7:00 PM. I’m not really sure what we plan to do with them. I am all for the idea of putting them in a Thunderdome style cage and having them fight for faux-Danzig superiority. Maybe the real Danzig would let the winner come up on stage and sing London Dungeon or something cool like that. Maybe the real Danzig will read this and get an immediate restraining order against me. I’m going to bet the second is more likely.
One of the great aspects of this event is the preparation. We have actually discussed whether Glenn Anzalone Danzigs should be counted. Anzalone is, as most deeply committed fans know, his proper birth name. This is a critical structural matter because it means that an additional 12 Danzigs are then in play. Then, there is the issue of poorly committed Danzigs. Should a person who uses their personal picture of themselves or no picture at all but still uses the Danzig name count in the final tally? I believe in a pluralistic approach to fake Danzig stalking. It doesn’t matter if you use your picture or no picture or a picture of a Christmas ham, if you use the name, you are a Danzig at heart. Even that fake Danzig with no picture whose entire profile simply says “Glenn Danzig, Indiana State University” can be included. Just in case you are curious, I am currently trailing Kelly 5 to 4. I had a 5th Danzig but I think I may have scared him off.
I have some pretty major plans after Danzig Bowl, win or lose. I’ve thought of creating a Facebook account as Glenn Danzig and only being friends with other fake Danzigs. We could set up a support group for bogus Danzigs dealing with issues that might plague people who pretend to be Danzig online. We could band together and throw our support to political candidates who support Danzig worthy causes and boycott all non-Danzig friendly businesses. My big dream is that there will be a day where for one whole 24 hour period everyone on Facebook changes his or her name to Glenn Danzig. Kind of like in Spartacus. I admit, it’s a strange dream, but then so is drowning in orange juice while being laughed at by forty mutant clowns wearing Richard Nixon masks.