Posts Tagged Slayer
New ESPN Commercial Features Metallica Drummer Lars Ulrich Eating Wilt Chamberlain’s Pituitary Gland
Posted by Keith Spillett in General Weirdness, Health Tips for An Early Death on March 20, 2013
When Lars Ulrich paid $120,000 dollars for the rights to own former Laker great Wilt Chamberlain’s pituitary gland last month at a Los Angeles auction, experts speculated that he was losing his mind. After all, what possible use could the gland of a four-time NBA most valuable player have? People laughed as Lars overbid by almost $100,000 dollars to ensure he locked up the rights to the secretory organ. They aren’t laughing anymore.
During a soon-to-be-aired ESPN commercial, Lars began gnawing on Chamberlain’s gland while the rest of the band stood around telling standard, boring rockstar jokes. By the end of the commercial Lars had grown to the height of 8 foot 3. Only recently, height experts had estimated Ulrich to be a mere 5 foot 6. Some experts have speculated that Ulrich’s height may reach 11 foot 7 within the next month.
Ulrich Moments Before His Appearance On ESPN
The consumption of the glands by metal celebrities is rare but not unheard of. Back in 2006, Slayer vocalist Tom Araya was seen chewing on the adrenal gland of famed actor Lee Marvin at a Corrosion of Conformity show. At the time, many experts in the field of adrenal gland eating believed that Lee Marvin’s organ contained a rare hormone that would allow anyone consuming it to become invisible for 12 hours. Araya, however, merely ended up with a headache and a brief, bizarre hallucination where he believed that he was former President Rutherford B. Hayes.
While consuming the glands of other humans tends to be unpopular, the inhalation of donkey glands has become a fad among many of today’s teens. Snorting donkey glands (or glarfing as many teens call it) has become the main recreational activity of a whole generation of adolescents. The effects of one “rail” of donkey gland can be feelings of unbridled euphoria, the power to control the minds of others, werewolfism and even, in some cases, vortex breath (the ability to exhale gale force winds from one’s mouth and nostrils).
In spite of the fact that they are illegal in 26 states, donkey glands are available at most corner gas stations and even some supermarkets. According to some donkey gland abuse experts, 1 out of every 3 American teens have experimented with glarfing. Police are reporting an alarming rise in the number glarfing and driving arrests. The U.S. might well be in the grips of a donkey gland snorting epidemic.
The logistical ramifications of Lars’ decision to abuse the gland of Wilt Chamberlain could be significant. After all, fitting behind a drum kit at nearly 12 feet tall might pose a serious challenge to the once diminutive Ulrich. However, the bigger concern for society at large are the effects of a role model like Ulrich sending the message that it is “cool” for young people to engage in glandular abuse.
With America facing a glarfing crisis, some experts believe the tacit celebrity endorsement of the recreational consumption of glands could lead to a situation where all forms of authority are undercut and full-scale anarchy and chaos grip the nation. The American family could be entirely annihilated. Humans might be replaced by zombie-like, gland-addicted creatures that stumble through the streets at all hours searching for their next fix.
The entire fabric of modern civilization might be destroyed. Or even worse, many of the long cherished records held by professional athletes could be shattered by hormone-gargling, mutant “superathletes”. Many experts believe that the only solution to this epidemic is a full scale War on Glands where the military is used to break up international gland cartels and high school students are subjected to twenty hours per week of gland abuse reeducation.
Thus Spoke BlaK Dan
Posted by Keith Spillett in BlaK Dan's Theatre of Cruelty on March 11, 2013
(translated from the original grunts and pig noises by Walter Kaufmann)
I.
When BlaK Dan had turned 37, he put down his autographed Burzum album collection and left the comfort of his basement and went into the mountains. He was alone. He waited for the one pure note to emerge from his body, uncontaminated with the essence of those creatures he had survived being around all these years. He did not tire of the solitude, for it is all he had ever wished for. But, at last, a change came over his heart, and one morning he rose with the dawn, stepped before the sun, and spoke to it thus:
“You great star, what would your happiness be if you realized you had to shine on all those who rest below you? If you realized that your light was illuminating the way for others, would you not extinguish yourself in a lake of tears?”
“Behold, I am weary of my own purity. These chumps at the bottom of the mountain, they spend their time waxing poetic about how much weight Snooki lost and what Jessie James Dupree will do for an encore. Even the ones that try to be pure of the world end up owning Metallica’s Reload on vinyl.”
“Bless the cup that wants to overflow and drown those at the bottom of this mountain with the righteous torrent of nothingness. For I am BlaK Dan and I am full of emptiness!”
II.
BlaK Dan descended down the mountain and came upon and old man. The old man was wearing a Dio shirt. Blak Dan sneered.
“It has been a long time since you passed this way, BlaK Dan. The last time I saw you, you were carrying the ashes of the church burned by Samoth. Do you fear that arsonists do not get all the girls?”
“Out of my way, you old fool. I have no time for your false metal jokes or your tales of pits gone by. I have no time for women. Nor men for that matter. I have a world to cleanse of humanity. For I am BlaK Dan, and I have come to philosophize with the blastbeat.”
III.
When BlaK Dan arrived at the next town, he found many people gathered together in the market place; for it had been promised that Black Sabbath would be performing a cover of N’Sync’s “Tearin’ Up My Heart”. And BlaK Dan spoke thus to the people:
“I teach you the Overman! For you people are something that is to be overcome! Ten years, ten long years, I sat in that cave at the top of the mountain pondering how to escape you forever. For even ten years of solitude couldn’t cure me of the memories of watching you simple-minded beasts jump from trend to trend in the name of impressing other people with your metalness. Well, I am here to tell you that I am the most metal. And I know this, because I am the most empty.”
“Behold, I cannot stomach any of you anymore, so I teach you the Overman. This one time I will tell you how to live correctly. Because I am bored. You will probably ignore it, because you are animals. But, at least at the end of your sorry, pitful existences, I can proudly tower over your coffin, telling anyone who will listen “I told you so!” But they will not listen either. Because they too are morons.”
“A polluted stream is metal and you donkeys lap it up as if it were the best thing you’ve ever tasted. One must be completely empty of all moisture to truly be metal. And I know, because I have emptied myself of all that is moist. All that is caring. All that is kind. I spit in the face of all that come to me seeking solace. I turn my back on humanity. I have emptied myself of melody. Of harmony. Of style. Of substance. I am the Overman, because I am Post-Everything!”
IV.
“And you say, ‘But what of God?’ And I say “God is dead! There is only me.” And you say, ‘But what of the joy music brings?’ And I say, ‘But what of the mud a pig wallows in. If the pig is happy, is that mud, in fact, holy?’”
“Once the sin against God was the greatest sin; but God died and now you’re stuck trying to piece together who you are from a bunch of copies of Slayer records. And so you replace your old God with Slayer and perform the same old silly rituals, only this time with the knowledge that you are a unique and clever fellow. You jump up and down and repeat evil words and think you are something special. You are no different than the idiots who came before you. The only difference is you buy more stuff.”
“You ask me what meaning has life. It is a contest that is already over. I got there first. You lose. Sucker. For you are still winding your way through Megadeth’s early discography and I am on Z. I have heard it all. I have done it all. That which I haven’t done isn’t worth doing anyway. I have come to the end of the road. You are a bunch of pimply-faced kids trying out your death stare on old people in the mall. I am the end point of history.”
V.
Then, something happened that made every mouth gape open and every finger point. A cute puppy wandered into the center of the courtyard. The adorable animal jumped up and startled an infant. The infant giggled wildly. People pulled out their phones in order to record what was left of this magic moment and send it to thousands of different people all over the world. Finally, after all the commotion had died down they turned back to BlaK Dan. They all had forgotten what he was saying.
VI.
BlaK Dan left the town muttering under his breath. He found an uncomfortable place to sleep and lay down for what seemed like a thousand hours. At last, however, his eyes opened and gazed into the distance. He rose quickly, like a drunkard whose CD player had begun skipping, and announced to no one in particular that he had discovered a new truth.
“An insight has come to me: ‘People are perishable!’ Sure, everything about them disgusts me. They always want to play you the songs they like and use your mini-refrigerator to store food. They ramble on and on about useless ideas. They make funny noises. They smack their food when the chew. They fall asleep during the best part of Headbanger’s Ball. Will it not be better when they are all dead?”
“But I did not pay attention in Biology class, so I know not how to create a plague to wipe them all away. And I have neither the training nor the patience to seek out members of terrorist cells. And I have not the time nor the funding to buy weapons grade uranium. But I know this one thing. Eventually, they will all die. Sure, I too will die, and that will be a sad day, but I can take comfort in the thought that the rest of them will experience a fate at least as bad as my own, in some cases worse.”
“Some may outlive me, yes, but they too will eventually yield to their own mortality. Everyone on this earth will be dead at some point. Maybe even soon. As I ascend back to the top of the mountain to look down upon this tainted world, I can finally rest in the knowledge that no one ever gets what they want from life and it all ends brutally.”
“Life is a curse of which I hope they are soon cured. But, until then, they can have their dumb little lives. Let them bounce from one dumb crisis to another. Let them anxiously wait by their computers for news on who will be playing drums on the next Doro Pesch record. Let them get worked up over what Dave Mustaine thinks about the customer service at Men’s Warehouse. I am cured. It no longer matters. They are dead to me.”
Exclusive: The Secret CIA Plot To Break Up Slayer
Posted by Keith Spillett in Pointyheaded Highbrow Stuff, The Politics Of Catastrophe on March 6, 2013
The note under my door said “Meet at 3 AM in the parking garage behind the Waffle House.” I’d received notes like this before and, usually, they either led to great information or some guy in nothing but a trenchcoat asking me if I wanted to hold hands and whisper Carpenters lyrics into each other’s ears. Typically, these messages came from my high level contact in the CIA, a man who will only let me refer to him in public as Deep Thrombosis. He’s worked in The Company for many years and has put me onto some of the bigger stories Tyranny of Tradition has broken. He was the guy who tipped me off to Obama’s drumming on the first Overkill album and Nixon’s plot to assassinate the members of Black Sabbath.
I knew that a night meeting with Deep Thrombosis could be the thing that gets me that Pulitzer Prize I’ve been coveting all these years or even a date with The Great Kat. However, I was not prepared for the monumental significance of what he was about to tell me.
“Tonight, we are going to pull back the curtain,” whispered Deep Thrombosis while his shifty, beady eyes darted from side to side. “The information I’m about to give you could bring down the whole circus. If you print it, be warned, there is a good chance you will end up having a ‘boating accident’ or accidently hanging yourself while trying to install a garage door opener. And for godsakes, if you print this, you need to promise not to mention you got it from a source in the CIA! They’ll be able to track it back to me.”
“I will absolutely not mention how I got this information,” I told my CIA source. “I swear it!”
He proceeded to tell me the most outlandish story I had ever heard. A story of violence, intrigue and a CIA so out of control that it would go so far as to break up one of the great thrash metal groups of our time.
“The Company had heard some rumors that the next Slayer album was going to be all about drone strikes on Al-Queda bases. The thing was going to be called “South of Reason”. Typical longhaired hippie liberal propaganda. We’d have let Limbaugh handle them except they were going to reveal potential bombing coordinates, out some of our higher level agents, and really turn the metalhead public against the whole ‘secret murder of civilians who have had no trial’ thing. We couldn’t let it happen. So we took action.”
“The first part of the plan was to kidnap Kerry King and replace him with an actor who resembled Kerry King. We have a guy who has done some jobs with us in the past who was a dead ringer for King, a sort of grubby, misshapen fellow who slightly resembled a poorly shaven yeti. We scooped up the real Kerry and threw him into Guantanamo and told the guards he was actually Osama Bin Laden’s masseuse and to ‘not torture him’ until he gave us any information on the whereabouts of the secret terrorist training camps in Iceland.”
“The guy we are using as Kerry almost gave the thing away during the first show. He played three or four really great solos, which confused the audience. Luckily, one of our agents got ahold of him and told him to haphazardly move his whammy bar around really fast when it was his turn to solo and no one would know the difference. Things went fine after that.”
“We slipped a mind-altering substance into one of Araya’s drinks and, through the power of suggestion, convinced him to start listening to Asking Alexandria. We figured this would jam up any creativity that was flowing through his head. Then, we gave a copy of the band’s financial information to Lombardo. The rest is history.”
“It was our best work since we got rid of Mossedegh in Iran in ’53. Or Arbenz in Guatemala in ’54. Or Allende in Chile in ’73. Or….well, you get the point.”
“The thing is, I’ve begun to realize that this sort of thing is dangerous. After all, if the CIA can destroy Slayer or overthrow the government of a foreign country or randomly kill civilians who happened to be in the same vicinity as people we believe to be terrorists without the consent of the American people, then what is the point of even calling our country a democracy.”
“I started thinking of what a soulless, unaccountable beast like the CIA could do if it really put its mind to it. Forcing Exodus to do a ska album? Getting Testament to hire Michael Bolton as their lead singer? Letting Janick Gers write all the songs on the next Maiden record? The possibilities were too horrible to consider.”
“So, I have chosen you to help put a stop to this. Publish this article tomorrow and remind America that in a democracy, the government needs to be accountable to the people or else they have ceased being a democracy. That transparency is the only thing that can keep us from becoming a nation capable of any atrocity in the name of opening new markets and exploiting new sources of human capital. That America should stand for something greater than the principal of bending other, weaker nations to our will. And that Slayer should start writing stuff that sounds more like it did before Divine Intervention, because honestly, the new stuff hasn’t been all that impressive. Except for God Hates Us All. That was pretty cool.”
I heard the sound of a car door slam in the corner of the garage and turned to look at it. When I looked back, Deep Thrombosis was gone.
Metallica Names 2,000 Pound Walrus as New Bass Player
Posted by Keith Spillett in General Weirdness on October 3, 2012
Ending weeks of speculation, Metallica has chosen Nessie, a 2,000 pound performing walrus, to be their new bass player. The search began back in 2011 when bassist extraordinaire Robert Trujillo was eaten by a pack of feral orangutans at the Jones Beach Toll Plaza in Long Island, New York. The band had auditioned over 62,023,017 potential bass players before finally settling yesterday on Nessie. Before being selected by Metallica, Nessie has had a storied career that included a stint as halfback for the New York Jets and three years as a backup singer for the Isley Brothers.
Nessie is relatively new to the metal scene, but has already made a big impression. During a freezing cold outdoor concert in Oslo, Norway, Nessie laid on top of Megadeth singer Dave Mustaine for the entire song Tornado of Souls in order to save him from frostbite. However, not all of Nessie’s experiences with the metal scene have been positive. Controversy followed Nessie after he knocked Kerry King unconscious after a Slayer show in March. King had apparently tried to eat one of Nessie’s fins, driving him into a wild, murderous rage.
Nessie will begin his tenure in Metallica next month when the band gets to work on recording its next album, the nautically themed “A Porpoise Driven Life”. The new record will feature several exciting new tracks including “Of Wolf and Manatee”, “Trapped Under Ice Fishermen”, “The Cod That Failed”, and “Saint Angler”. They are also planning another in the long series of Unforgiven songs, this one called “The Unforgiven Mambo Number 5”.
Industry experts expect the album to come out sometime in late 2015 in order to coincide with Red Lobster’s yearly Endless Crab Legs promotion. Red Lobster became the official sponsor of Metallica earlier this month.
1504 Words With Gogog Bloodthroat From A Band Of Orcs
Posted by Keith Spillett in People Who Were Willing To Speak To Me on April 16, 2012
A few weeks back, I sent an email to A Band of Orcs, a death metal band of beasts who traveled to Earth from another realm. I was hoping to get an exclusive interview, but when I received no reply, I went about my life and forgot about it. Suddenly, on Saturday morning at 5 AM, I was awakened by a terrible howling noise followed by a frightening crash.
Gogog Bloodthroat, the singer from A Band Of Orcs, had broken down my front door and was climbing my stairs with a giant knife between his teeth. I tried desperately to run away, but Gogog grabbed me and pinned me against the wall. He was raving about a magic album they were recording that was coming out in June or July that was going to destroy all human eardrums. According to Gogog, the cover art was going to be done by a brilliant slave named Chuck Lukacs. I was able to ask him some questions before I blacked out from the beating I received.
Gogog: I was out in the stalls abusing the warhorses abusing calling them humans when you sent email. If you want to abuse something in your life or your realm, I found calling them human seals the deal. They are ready to throw some metal your way. Yes. YESSSSSS!!!!!
Tyranny: So let me ask you, I’ve never been an Orc before and I’m really curious…. What is a typical day in the life of an Orc like?
Gogog: Gogog never wake up too early. He make grunts do most work in mornings. But when Gogog wake up he smell, take deep breath, smell death, destruction and fire. That is Gogog’s breakfast. Wake up in morning, go out, abuse warhorses. Then, we go out, dominate, play heavy metal for all the pathetic humans that are out there in your realm. They are sooooooo….pathetic…..I love that word. Patheeeetic. I use that word from the Waterdog….he tell me “pathetic”. He tell me “your thought patterns are pathetic”. I love it! Everything pathetic!
Tyranny: You have an excellent vocabulary for a flesh-eating beast….
Gogog: Pathetic!!! Ahmmmmmmmmm….(incoherent growling)
Tyranny: If they had a monster SAT that could end up on it. Great word.
Gogog: It helps having a Shaman who teaches you vocabulary so you can speak to the stinky flesh piles such as yourself.
Tyranny: Well, thank you!
Gogog: It is a complement!!!! (more incoherent growling followed by horrifying laughter)
Tyranny: What possesses an Orc to start playing music? It doesn’t seem like a natural thing for you to do. Why did you start a heavy metal band?
Gogog: Well………SLAYER!!!!! REIGN IN BLOOD!!!!! We hear as Orcs, need to know, what is this magic? We hear this we feel like destroying. Jed! The one human that lives. That is all I must say.
Tyranny: Okay.
Gogog: He teach us this magic you call metal. Grrrrrrrrrrrrr. We must play constantly. Metal hurt. Metal don’t hurt, humans hurt. You scratch our back, we destroy yours.
Tyranny: Is it hard to play instruments with Orcfingers?
Gogog: Not at all. Orcs play everything with their fingers. You should hear the noise when we pick our ears. We have very thick ear hair to keep elves and berries out of our ears. Nobody hears the music that comes out of our ears when we pick them. Just Orc. It’s almost as beautiful as heavy metal! Everyday we learn more. We learn more. Hail Gzoroth!
(My 3 year-old daughter walked into the room at this point totally oblivious to the giant Orc holding me by the throat against the wall.)
My daughter: (excitedly) Daddy, my rash is better.
Tyranny: That’s great, sweetie. I’m talking to an Orc right now. Why don’t you go downstairs?
Gogog: Does the little princess want to ask a question?
Tyranny: No…No….She’s fine. (Thankfully, she left at this point and didn’t become Orcfood) Now, I keep hearing you talk about The Maelstrom. What is…(overly dramatic pause)….The Maelstrom?
Gogog: Maelstrom! Vortex of a lot of power magic. Destruction. Destroys everything around it. Bottom line…it brings the tribe.
Tyranny: I heard a story from your manager, Mr. Grimp….
Gogog: (laughing hysterically) YEEEEEEEEES! Mr. Grimp!!!! YEEEEESSSSSS! Know your place! YEEEEESSSSSSS!!!
Tyranny: How did you arrive on earth?
Gogog: That’s where humans get confused. We are not aliens. We not come from a different planet, we came from different realm. We come through Vortex, Maelstrom, that is the difference. We are not Martians! HeheahaaaaaaaaHeahahhahahahahahhahahahhaha………Martians! That is really funny. We come from a different REALM! REALM!! REALM!!!!!!
Tyranny: You came here through the Vortex???
Gogog: Kids playing Dungeons and Dragons, of course. Rolling dice. Gruesom Grimp is big jokester. He bring us through. (unintelligible shouting) He bring us through Vortex. Bring Orcs to Santa Cruz, California. Not knowing what’s going on. We destroyed everybody right there. Then, we hear magic in the tower above. We run upstairs and we hear SLAYER….REIGN IN BLOOD!!! Most amazing magic. Vortex. Maelstrom. I can’t say more.
Tyranny: That’s a beautiful story….
Gogog: People travel to Santa Cruz mountains now not only to find Bigfoot, now to find Orc. People everywhere we see! When Orc Tower appear, Bigfoot scared! We see Groongrich all the time. Humans say “See the Groongrich!” We the Groongrich!
Tyranny: Goongrich?!?!
Gogog: Groongrich!!!! GROONGRICH!!!! It’s something big in distance that oogs. You know your life is in danger, but yet you not know what it is. GROONGRICH!!!!
Tyranny: Groongridge??? Groongrich???
Gogog: (becoming hostile) GROOOOOOOOOOOOOOONGRICH!!!!!!!!! Must I spell?!?!?
Tyranny: I got it! As you may know, There is a lot of anti-Orc propaganda out there. What could you say to help convince the readers that Orcs are actually charming, lovable and benevolent creatures?
Gogog: Anti-Orc Propaganda!!!!!!!!
Tyranny: Yeah, people say they eat human flesh, they smell, they don’t clean up after themselves and are pretty anti-social.
Gogog: Yes….yes….all of the above. Humans are very good at destroying what they don’t understand. That’s why Orc still here. Humans understand Orc. We smelly, we mean, we don’t have love for anything on the planet. That’s us!
Tyranny: Let’s talk about your eating of human flesh. Now, you do eat human flesh, correct?
Gogog: NO!!!!! Gogog wear human flesh. Human taste like….meh…..it stink. Almost like Orc, but worse. We have human over. Eat brain. Leave drums for Oog. Oog make cymbals out of all kinds of human stuff. Then, we take the flesh and we wear it, we put it on. We wear it at war. I only wear the ugliest humans. The fur you see on Gogog is not animal fur, but hairy human.
Tyranny: You are kind to animals???
Gogog: NO!!!!! Not at all! We hope they take over your realm and destroy you guys. That’s why we call them all human. Like taking a Groongrich, sticking it with stink and calling it dumb and human. They take over EARTH!!! EARTH!!!! EARTH!! Hahahahahahahhahahahaaaaaa….
Tyranny: What have been some of your most successful human hunting strategies?
Gogog: To take a human down!?!?!? We play metal. You not see this on your Youtube, your Twitterface. You see human scum. We take the camera, post it on Youtube, DRUMS, CYMBALS, so on and so on.
Tyranny: You have some pretty imposing tusks. Are there Orc dentists who help you maintain proper dental hygiene? How often do Orcs need to brush and floss?
Gogog: Hairy humans! We bite into hairy humans with tusks, clean tusks, we ready to go. We show everything, we no hide. You see everything. Humans in your realm hide everything. We show you everything. Therefore, you think we lie. We no lie, we tell you the truth.
Tyranny: That was actually pretty deep.
Gogog: YES! You struggle with your words, Gogog speak truth now. Pick up jaw off ground.
Tyranny: A lot of my readers are interested to know what they can do to be spared when the Orcpocalypse comes. What’s your advice for them?
Gogog: Hail Gzoroth!!!! Buy our merch. Buy tee-shirt. Make armor out of it.
Tyranny: So, if they buy your merch or the new album that your working on, will they be spared.
Gogog: Most definitely. You buy CD, new album, tee-shirt, you spared. We see bumper sticker on car. Leave spared! We see! We travel in cage on back of tour bus. We see through holes for air. We see bumper sticker say “Band of Orcs”. They are the chosen ones, because they choose. You see! You choose, you get! Nothing for free. Well, sometimes. Gronk! Throw stuff out in crowd for free. We argue, but Gronk! always right. We think he magic. Like what you humans call Jedi Mind Trick.
At that point, the pain of being hit repeatedly in the skull with an elephant femur became too much to bear and I passed out. I awoke in a bed at Grady Hospital in downtown Atlanta a day later with multiple concussions and a missing ear. Hopefully, Gogog will be pleased with this interview and will leave me alone. Hail Gzoroth!
Honest Validation of Unfair Cheese: Slayer and The Perils Of Free-Market Fanaticism
Posted by Keith Spillett in Articles I Probably Shouldn't Have Bothered Writing on April 12, 2012
In Slayer’s song Blood Red, singer Tom Araya bellows forth a challenging and powerful lyric that cuts to the core of today’s debate between a managed, centralized economy and a free market system where the “invisible hand” balances the wants and needs of the consumer against the production capabilities of the market. When he shrieks “Honest validation of unfair cheese” at the 41 second mark of the song, it is clear that he is undercutting a basic free-market premise posited by thinkers the likes of Milton Friedman and Frederick Hayek. The words are enlightening and deeply meaningful, particularly for an electorate on the cusp of deciding what sort of financial decisions it plans to make as it marches forward into a new millennium.
In order to understand the meaning behind Araya’s lyric, it is first critical that we understand the meaning of “unfair cheese”. Nothing is more disappointing to a lover of cheese than when, upon returning from the supermarket, a shopper finds moldy, poorly preserved cheese in their bag. Who is supposed to ensure the consumer is safe from a flood of this “unfair cheese”? If the supermarket is left to its own devices, it might well sell all the out of date cheese it could possibly get away with. After all, as Buddy Holly said in his 1981 hit song “Who is watching the detectives?” In this case, maybe we need someone to even watch the people who are watching the detectives. Or, it is possible we may need to hire detectives to watch the detectives who are watching the detectives.
Back to the cheese thing. If it weren’t for the Better Food and Cheese Act of 1938, under the esteemed and underappreciated Presidency of Franklin D. Roosevelt, humans would be consuming pounds upon pounds of rotting, vile cheese. The Act empowered the police to arrest and jail any store clerk found selling “unfair cheese” for a period no less than five years in prison. Higher quality cheeses began to appear. Productivity flourished. It was during this period that Gorgonzola cheese was first produced in a laboratory. It was originally meant to be used as a weapon against the Soviet Union, but later it became appreciated for its velvety texture and tangy flavor. In the preceding two hundred years, America’s cheese growers had not produced as much as a single new breed of cheese.
So, when Araya asks for “honest validation of unfair cheese”, he’s really questioning whether a purely free market can produce the quality goods needed in a modern economy. Sure, it’d be nice to believe that the market is such a perfect force that can correct itself and keep the desires of its members in line, but it’s this sort of utopian thinking that caused the Great Wall of China to fall in 1990.
We cannot simply rely on market forces to purify the market. Human nature tells us that humans, in a perfect state of nature, will do some really unnatural things. In short, only a neutral arbitrator with no stake in the outcome can possibly make decisions that protect the consumer.
Only when the positions of these regulators are depoliticized and not influenced by corporations or individuals with expensive cars will we truly see an “honest validation of unfair cheese”. Only then will children of all races and all creeds, of all nationalities and all socio-economic backgrounds, of all hair styles and all blood types be able to sit down at the table of friendship together and eat the same safe and healthy cheese. Only then will we truly be free.
Researchers Link “Slayer Obsession” To Food Allergies
Posted by Keith Spillett in Health Tips for An Early Death on April 9, 2012
John Murphy At A Slayer Concert After Consuming 12 Jars of Pickle Juice
In a surprising study done by Johns Hopkins University, a direct connection has been found between being obsessed with the heavy metal band Slayer and consumption of certain classes of food. Slayer Obsession, known in medical parlance as Human Epiglottal Lymphogranuloma Lychosis or HELL, has been known to effect two in every three Slayer fans at least one time in their lives. In more serious cases of Slayer Obsession, a diet rich in certain classes of carbohydrates and proteins has been linked to symptoms as serious as the need to carve the band’s name into a person’s arm, the desire to write “SLAYER” on random Facebook message threads or even the overwhelming need to write the lyrics to “Dead Skin Mask” and other Slayer songs on inappropriate places such as church pews or children’s foreheads.
One food, unsurprisingly, that can cause Slayer addiction is barley, commonly found in beer. As many as 4 in 10 beer drinkers find themselves with mild to serious cases of HELL.
What is shocking are the other types of food that can lead to this disorder. The researchers found that people who consume more than 12 ounces of butter per day were found to frequently listen to the album “Seasons in the Abyss” for between 6 and 8 hours in an evening. Consumption of cucumbers or cottage cheese can lead to the desire to lock oneself in a room and listen to nothing but “South of Heaven” for entire weekends at a time.
The real stunner was that pickle juice is a major contributor to the disorder. Apparently pryotophan, an amino acid found in pickle juice will, in almost all cases, lead to immediate bouts of HELL and a nearly mindless sense of euphoria. Many fans at fans Slayer shows, who have recently been seen consuming entire containers of the water in pickle jars, have found themselves running wildly around in circles and running into one an other in a symptom that doctors refer to as “moshing”. Some Slayer fans have even taken to smoking and free basing pickles before shows in order to get the desired effect.
While doctors for years have believed that only the love of Jesus Christ or a good woman could help HELL sufferers, the Johns Hopkins research team believes that eating certain things can help cure the disorder. One such food is potting soil. According to their study, eating 9 ounces of mineral rich potting soil per day can lead a sharp decrease in the need to listen to Slayer. They also recommend eating at least 3 servings of donkey spleen per week.
For sufferers of this disorder, the future may seem bleak. They may feel powerless over their obsessions and symptoms. However, a diet rich in dirt and donkey parts can ensure that, in fact, HELL does not await.
Dave Lombardo Has Additional Arms Added To Keep Up With Younger Drummers
Posted by Keith Spillett in General Weirdness on March 26, 2012
Dave Lombardo Today
Eventually, Father Time catches up with us all. Former Slayer drummer Dave Lombardo was once thought to be the undisputed greatest metal drummer on earth. Scores of adolescents spent many a Saturday night watching Headbangers Ball and air drumming his fills from the beginning of “Seasons in The Abyss”. Nearly every great young drummer used to be called “the next Dave Lombardo”. Then, at some point, the world caught up with him.
“Some of the new wave of drummers are just quicker today. They have taken my style and improved it with a youthful energy that it’s hard for a 47-year-old to match. I needed something to get my edge back,” said Lombardo last night in an exclusive Tyranny of Tradition interview. What Lombardo did was both amazing and terrifying. In a first of its kind surgery, Lombardo had two additional arms added to his body. The arms are functional and just as useful as the two he was born with.
The possibilities for Lombardo are now nearly endless. His drumming style will most certainly take on a uniqueness that the metal world has never thought possible. He will also probably become an amazing juggler and will be able to put away groceries with the speed and dexterity his family has never seen. But, the deeper ethical concerns about a drummer being able to add limbs was the talk of the metal world after Lombardo’s announcement.
“It’s not right that someone can just have limbs added to be a better drummer,” said Battleax Kidneystone, drummer from the death metal band Malignant Pancreas. “If a major league baseball player added extra legs to run faster there is no way they’d let him play.”
Others, like Chainsaw Bloodcolon, from the band Carpathian Impetigo Sore, were less concerned. “If he wants to run around the rest of his life looking like a freak, I say, let him. I’m sticking with the two arms that Satan gave me.”
Still, Gene Hoglan, the recently named Commissioner of Metal Drumming, is looking into whether Lombardo should be allowed to play for Slayer on their next tour. Hoglan, who recently ruled that performance enhancing drugs like beer, crack and Moon Pies were allowed for drummers, is faced with an even more challenging issue here.
Some argue that this could lead to a slippery slope where drummers will have more and more arms added to be competitive. Imagine if Sean Reinert from Cynic decided he was going to add 10 arms and 14 legs. Dream Theater would take Mike Portnoy back in a second if he showed up with no less than 100 additional limbs. The next phase would be guitarists having additional fingers and singers having additional mouths with separate voice boxes. Think of how many strings a djent guitarist could put on his instrument if he had 52 fingers to play with. It is possible that if Hoglan allows Lombardo to keep his additional arms, the metal scene in five years will be indistinguishable from a circus sideshow.
However, if Hoglan rules against Lombardo, the case will surely end up in court. As most legal scholars know, the 2nd Amendment to The Constitution guarantees the right to bear arms. “The founding fathers wanted us to have life, liberty and the pursuit of additional limbs, otherwise they wouldn’t have written it down. Besides, what is more American than using technology to grab every possible competitive advantage over others,” said Lombardo. “Being a highly successful four-armed mutant is, in many ways, the American Dream.”
The Tyranny of Tradition 
