Posts Tagged The Society of The Spectacle

Blue Oyster Cult Members Beat Heckler Into A Coma With Cowbell

MoreCowbell

It all started innocently enough with a Saturday Night Live sketch featuring Christopher Walken back in 2000. Since then, the Blue Oyster Cult have been besieged by swarms of people all shouting the same thing “More Cowbell”. At first, the band enjoyed all the attention. “We thought it was hysterical,” said Cult front man Eric Bloom, “we were huge Walken fans and loved the whole cowbell thing.”

As time has worn on, the sheer repetition of the same joke has taken its toll. Bloom cannot go anywhere without hearing the same joke over and over. “I go to the supermarket and am in the frozen food aisle. Some fool runs by me and yells “More Cowbell”. I go to the 10 items or less checkout line…some idiot behind the register yells “Here’s your change….More Cowbell!!!”

“It happens everywhere. I’m at my proctologist the other day and the guy keeps shouting “More Cowbell” during my exam. At funerals, people come up to me as I’m leaning over the casket and shout ‘More Cowbell’.

“We are basically this generation’s Fonzi, with everyone coming up with their thumbs up shouting ‘Ayyyyyyy!’.  It’s no wonder Henry Winkler got up on that bell tower and shot all those people.”

“Do you know how many bad Christopher Walken impersonations I’ve heard in the last month? 500 or 600, easily,” said Buck Dharma, the band’s lead guitarist. “We loved the attention at first, but people just won’t stop. The other day, somebody spray-painted “More Cowbell” on our family’s Labrador retriever!”

“Everybody wants to be part of the same joke. Everybody wants to prove they get the same stupid cultural reference. Everybody wants to be laughed at. Everybody should be covered head to toe in boils and left in the sun to rot.”

Blue-Oyster-Cult

At a concert on Tuesday night in Akron, Ohio, things got out of control. The audience began screaming “More Cowbell” at the opening act “Yah Mo B There”, a local Michael McDonald cover band. Before Blue Oyster Cult came onstage the crowd chanted “More Cowbell” for nearly an hour. During every single song, the audience howled “More Cowbell” accompanied by raucous laughter.

Bloom was progressively becoming more annoyed. “We are doing ‘Harvester of Eyes’, they kept shouting it. We are doing “Career of Evil”…same thing. “Burnin’ For You”….again and again. Endlessly. We pleaded for them to stop, but they kept going.”

One fan, Zelmo Beaty, shouted the same line in a Christopher Walken voice for the duration of the show nonstop. The band had heard enough. They decided to take action.

They leaped from the stage taking drummer Jules Radino’s cowbell, held Beaty and took turns beating him over the head for five minutes the instrument, Dharma was heard shouting “How funny is it now?!!! You want anymore cowbell?!!!!” as security wrestled the bloodied cowbell from his hand.

Beaty emerged from his coma on several occasions rambling about how funny he thinks Jimmy Fallon is, how much he loved the Hunger Games series and how he thought Miley Cyrus’ public display of twerking was inappropriate.

No charges have been filed against the band by local law enforcement.

According to Akron Sheriff Will Kane, “This sort of violence is not normally tolerated in our community, but in this case, we can really understand. In America, people say the same ten things over and over again. No creativity. No originality. Just the same stupid lines ad nauseum. What The Blue Oyster Cult did was wrong, but can you really blame them?”

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Paul Stanley To Rock Hall Of Fame: “We Can’t Believe One Stupid Gimmick Got Us This Far”

Paul Stanley Hates Us All

Paul Hates Us All

Friday night’s Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony certainly did not go as planned. The all-star gala turned into a near riot when Kiss guitarist Paul Stanley announced to the capacity crowd that he wanted to thank “all the morons who shelled out millions of dollars on our worthless toys and mindlessly dull records.” He continued, “if it weren’t for you people being dumb as a pail of hammers, I’d have never been able to afford all of the cars, drugs and mansions I’ve bought over the years with money that could have been used on things that actually might have bettered your lives.”

Stanley then reminisced about the early days of Kiss. “Jesus, I remember wasting nights with Gene playing god awful music at half empty dive bars in New York City back in the 70s. We both couldn’t play a lick, but we figured being in a band would be a good way to meet chicks. One night he looked at me and was like ‘Paul…I got it! Makeup!’ Next thing we know, you lemmings are plunking down hundreds of dollars just to get your hands on a Kiss lunchbox.”

As the audience began throwing ten-dollar bottles of Dasani water at the stage, Stanley continued to belittle the crowd. “Seriously, none of us are good at anything but marketing. In terms of actual artistic ability, the only thing Gene ever did that was worthwhile was that stupid movie where the robot spiders tried to kill Tom Selleck. Peter Criss is barely bright enough to lace up his own shoes, but he’s made something north of the Gross National Product of Luxembourg by doing nothing more than wearing kitten makeup. None of us can even read music.”

“In America, all you have to know how to do is get the suckers excited about something then….boom….you have a yacht. Mencken sure as hell was right when he said ‘No one ever went broke underestimating the American public’.  We are the Cabbage Patch Kids of Heavy Metal…and you fools don’t even realize it.”

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At that point, Ace Frehely tried to wrestle Stanley away from the microphone, but Stanley knocked him to the ground with a vicious roundhouse left. “Get away from me, Ace…it’s time we told these poor deluded bastards the truth!”

“We laugh at you people! All the time! It’s too damn easy. We howl for hours at all of these music school prodigy types who waste their lives learning to play musical instruments. Have fun playing in front of a bunch of poet socialist college professors and nine dollar an hour baristas at Open Mic Tuesdays over at your local Starbucks. I’m a little busy…you know…meeting with my accountants, buying new Ferraris and investing in strip mining ventures in the Congo to even bother learning how to tune my guitar.”

Stanley concluded his speech over a wild crescendo of booing and screaming with these words…“I originally wanted to end tonight’s ceremony by telling you that our induction to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is a victory for mediocrity. The truth is…that would be an insult to mediocre people everywhere.”

“This great moment is a product of two factors. Our being lucky enough to be the first ones to come up with this stupid gimmick and your need to be part some asinine communal consumer experience that you can share with the rest of the witless sheep around you. We have created nothing of value and have been rewarded for this with barrels upon barrels of money. Thank you to the Hall for recognizing our musical con artistry and all of the dumb animals out there who gave us so much for so little. If it weren’t for you, we’d still be broke. Thanks!”

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