Posts Tagged Twitter

Metalhead Insult Form Letter

Occasionally we receive insulting or life-threatening posts or emails here at Tyranny of Tradition.  While we enjoy these greatly, we have begun to notice an alarming trend.  Most of them are either poorly written or possibly symptomatic of a severe break with what we commoners like to refer to as “reality”.  In order to improve the quality of these insults, we have created a form letter for those of you that struggle with expressing yourselves in writing. 

The answers are based on the most common, clichéd insults or recycled comments that we have received over past year and a half.  We left out any profanity or pseudo-ironic internet abbreviations that tend to be a major part of these letters so that we could focus more on content.  Questions 6 and 7 are meant to be representative of the majority of our insulters, so feel free to add your own information after the word “Other” if the responses don’t properly represent you.  Please use this form if you feel the sudden urge to attempt to humiliate or degrade us.  It will save us the many seconds that were wasted trying to figure out what you were talking about.

Dear ________________________________,

     A.  Internet Warrior

    B. Poser

    C. Guy who lives in his mother’s basement

    D. Troll

   E.  Idiot

Your blog sucks.  I read your last post and you are ______________. 

      A.  not funny

     B. not heterosexual

     C. a little troll who lives in his mother’s basement

     D. a butthurt, hipster English major

 E.  overweight

 F.  skinny and frail

  G.  the type of guy who thinks his beard and haircut makes him look like Kerry King when in fact it just makes him look homeless

   H.  Both E and G

   I.  Both F and G

J.  All of the Above

I hate you.  Your blog is _______________.

      A.  second-rate Onion

      B. a third-rate Onion

      C. just like The Onion

      D. like that internet site that does parodies of news articles

I hope you _________________. 

      A.  drown in a lake

      B.  die in a fire

      C.  get a girlfriend and stop writing

      D.  start doing something productive with your time

      E.  stop spamming pictures of Scott Baio onto my Myspace profile

      F.  move out of your mother’s basement

G.  Learn the proper uses of there and their

Your writing reminds me of _______________.

      A.  Everybody Loves Raymond

      B.  dog vomit

      C. The Onion

      D. the last Morbid Angel album

I spend a lot of time judging other people’s writing in my time as _____________ and yours is the worst I’ve ever read.

      A.  a metal message board moderator

      B. inmate 657891 at the Dannemora Correctional Institute

      C.  the president of the fan club of some black metal band that no one has ever heard of

      D.  a highly bored casualty of the current downsizing trend

       E. Other___________________________

  If I see you on the street I’ll probably _________________.

     A.  stare at you with a menacing look and hope that you notice my Burzum hoodie

     B.  tell you how much I love your blog

     C.  mutter under my breath about you living in your mother’s basement and hope you didn’t hear me

     D.  ask you if you write that blog that’s like a metal version of The Onion

E.  drive a spike through your head and dance on your corpse while singing “Transylvanian Hunger”

     E.  Other_____________________________

You suck,

Your fake internet name here_______________________________________

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17 Comments

What If There Is Nothing Worth Writing About?

“The dreamcrossed twilight between birth and dying.”

TS Eliot from Ash Wednesday

Recently, a terrible feeling has been crawling up the base of my spine.  It awakens me in the middle of the night, it hounds me when I am driving home from work, it swims in and out of my mind every time I consider this cursed blog.  I think I had this thought in my mind even before I started blogging, but over the last month its light buzz has grown to a deafening roar.  This feeling is in the pit of my stomach and the recesses of my mind all at once.  It is a voice that talks to me while I write and a spirit that haunts me when I do not.  Nothing makes it grow quiet.  It is omnipresent.  It is a simple idea, but if you follow it to its logical extreme it is as dangerous as a nuclear bomb.  The question is this…Is there that is really worth writing?

It seems a rather harmless line of questioning.  That is how it starts.  The point of writing is to create something.  I hope to create something new.  Have all the worthwhile thoughts already been had?  Has someone else already put down all the truths and mysteries of life on paper?  With the Internet, you can find access to nearly every idea that has been conceived of.  Most of us concern ourselves with whether LeBron is better than Kobe or who is married to who and who is getting a divorce or who wore what on the red carpet or who embarrassed themselves in front of the world.  If you want to dig deeper you can find recipes for how to prepare ox tail, the history of Buddhism, better and more in depth formulas to calculate the value of third basemen or the performance of treasury bonds, or the lost works of some 19th century poet you came across at three in the morning on some insomnia driven information binge.  But to what end?  Is it just more and more stuff to fill our minds with?

Maybe I shouldn’t concern myself with creating something original.  After all, what is the point of originality?  Am I simply trying to justify my existence by conning myself into the belief that I am so special and unique that I can think a thought that the rest of the 6 billion of us could not come up with?  Am I so narcissistic that I think I am capable of an idea that has never been here before?

Maybe the point is to appreciate the experience of writing.  Maybe the whole thing is about letting my synapses fire and my fingers pound away at some keyboard.  To what end?  I do it again and again.  Words appear.  More words appear.  Then more.  More.   They mean something, but who really knows what?  They dance in patterns.  I already have forgotten most of what I’ve written.  I could look back.  To what end?

Why bother sending this nonsense out to the world?  Looking for fellow travelers on the good ship Earth as we spiral towards our own personal oblivion.  To what end?  Am I simply standing in front of the Grand Canyon shouting at the top of my own lungs in the hopes of hearing an echo?  And then what?

Maybe my words will help ease the pain of human suffering.  A noble goal but when you look at what we are up against, it hardly seems possible.  A dying heap of flesh and consciousness trapped in a fading world that is saturated with mountains of disconnected ideas adding up to nothing in particular is going to be helped by some random guy typing random words on a computer screen? Really?  I haven’t watched enough Frank Capra to buy it.  It is a pleasant delusion, but a delusion nonetheless.  Maybe the goal is to delude others into forgetting their troubles.  They will remember them soon enough or, worse, they will enjoy the delusion so much they will forget what is happening to them and the ones around them.  Apathy or sadness. Ignorance or constant horror.  To what end?

If I could write something that could teach people how to live forever or convincingly show them that their actions are connected to something greater then maybe I would be writing something worth reading.  But I am not that good of a writer and I doubt I will ever be.  I wonder if anyone is.  Existential dread is what it is and I can’t write it away for myself or anyone else.  Can writing change the truth of what we are?  I simply don’t believe that.  And even if it could…to what end?

Maybe all of the thoughts have been thunk and all of the dreams have been dreamt and we are simply recycling the same old nonsense in slightly different packages again and again and again.  Over and over.  The paint job changes but it’s still the same old world.  Meet the new boss same as the old boss.

This isn’t my MacArthur speech to the troops blog.  I plan to keep doing this again and again for no apparent reason.  It is a complete waste of time.  It has no value and is utterly and completely useless.  I enjoy writing more times than I don’t.  I like hearing how my words hit people.  I am deeply curious as to how my innermost thoughts are perceived by strangers.  I guess that is something, but it will fade after a while.  These are simply words on a page and they don’t mean anything.  Nothing lasting or real or forever or genuine will ever come out of my mind or my hands.  They are shapes, they are colors contrasted with the background, they are a speck in the eye of history.  They are words.  Their lifespan is about as long as it takes to get to the next sentence.

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11 Comments

Theme From An Imaginary Grindcore Album: The Birth of UnMusic

Today is a landmark day in the history of music.  On Saturday February 5th at 10:37 AM a new genre of music has been born.  Welcome to the world of UnMusic.  Many times I have read the song titles on albums and thought to myself “This album has great song titles, it’s too bad the songs are horrendous.”

If you have had that thought from time to time, then UnMusic is for you.  UnMusic removes the irritating and grating music that is on albums and merely gives you song titles. I give you the song title, what your imagination does with them is up to you. Think of the possibilities?  Music without the limitations of actually having a song! I’m not even going to give the album a cover with artwork.  I feel like that would be selling out.  You, the listener, have complete artistic freedom to imagine what we would have sounded like had we actually recorded the songs.

For the purposes of marketability, the music will (not) be recorded by my band E.T.A.F. (Eats Things that Aren’t Food), who are known for their top 40 single “Jodie Meeks”.  This genre is deeply influenced by grindcore (particularly by the band A.C.). Grindcore is a style of metal that often features hysterical song titles and horrifically unlistenable songs.  Why bother with the songs?!?!?!

I was thinking about grindcore when these songs were (not) written, and actually believe this album better fits into a subgenre known as UnCore. That being said, I don’t want to limit your imagination, so if the songs sound in your mind like Michael Bolton or Earth Wind and Fire when you think of them, go with it.

Band:  E.T.A.F.

Album Name:  Unfriended By Life

Songs:

1.  Obligatory 2 Minute Acoustic Guitar Instrumental Intro

2.  Tipper Gore Told You To Throw Out All of Your Judas Priest Albums…But You Didn’t Listen

3.  I Got Scolded Because I Made Fun of the Drummer From Winger

4.  You Hung Out With The Band Skindred in A Parking Lot

5.  If Lincoln Were Alive Today, He’d Be Angry They Buried Him

6.  Stop Staring At Me…I’m Not Going to Talk to You

7.  You Have Children

8.  Mubarak Has the Best Interests of His People In Mind

9.  “So…Wait….Now You Are Saying That You Are Not A Doctor?!?!”

10.  I Follow People Around Malls

11.  You Like Tomatoes, But You Don’t Like Ketchup

12.  You Met Your Wife At A Viking Metal Concert

14.  Ketchup Is A Vegetable

15.  You Lost Your Children’s College Fund Because Jerome Bettis Fumbled

16.   You Missed a Meeting With Your Parole Officer To Go To An ICP Concert

17.  You Sent Your Son To School With Head Lice

18.  Choose Life…The Lesser of Two Evils

19.  You Learned to Speak Latin In Order To Sound Arrogant

19. You Gave Blood

19.  There Are 3 Track 19s on This Album

20.  You Were Unfriended By Soccer

21.  You Voted In Florida And It Didn’t Count

22.  Two Tens For a Five (A Tribute To Goldman Sachs)

23.  You Have Restless Leg Syndrome

24.  No One Follows You On Twitter

25.  You Are Allergic To Dog Dander and Milk

26.  You Live In Buffalo

27.  You Were Unfriended By Bacon

28.  My 98 Year Old Grandmother Just Compared Municipal Waste to D.R.I.

29.  You Live In Buffalo

30.  “No Officer, A Sound Did Not Come From My Trunk”

31.  You Gave Your Son Cortisone Shot So He Could Play In A Little League Game

32.  You Have A Bank Account

33.  People Don’t Take You Seriously Because You Have A Mustache

34.  You Pay Taxes Because You Think Its Patriotic

35.  If It Wasn’t For All The Crime, Miserable People and Decaying Buildings, Gary, Indiana Would Be a Great City

36.  Sucks to Be You…You Play Soccer

37.  Soccer is The World’s Most Popular Sport

38.  You Own A Copy of The Movie “Space Jam” and You Don’t Have Any Kids

38.  HA!  HA!  HA!!!  You Voted For Obama…and He Lost!!!

39.  You Went On Strike Until Your Company Agreed To Show Jerry Springer In The Break Room

40.  You Live In Buffalo

41.  You Are An Organ Donor

42.  You Know How To Properly Use A Semi-Colon

43.  You Quote Ayn Rand

44.  You Hope That Iron Maiden Plays All The Songs From The X Factor At Their Next Concert

45.  Your Kids Don’t Talk To You Because You Have A Mohawk

46.  You Think That People Are Smiling In Commercials Because They Are Happy

47.  Nobody Goes To Your MySpace Page Because Your Band Does Lionel Richie Covers

48.  Spellcheck is Wrong…Grindcore is One Word

49.  No One Knows What Barney Greenway is Talking About

50.  I Listened To The First Carcass Album and Became a Vegetarian

51.  You Are So Metal That You Were Into Ozzy Before He Joined Black Sabbath

52.  Raggacore Is The Next Big Thing

Hidden Tracks:

52.  You Think It’s Ironic To Have Song Titles Without Actual Songs

53.  It’s Funny Until You Start Talking

54.  Some Random Cover of A Band I’ve Never Heard Of Like Budgie

55.  A.C. Can’t Sue Me For Stealing Their Idea Because They Can’t Afford A Lawyer

56.  Even Spammers Ignore You

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