Anarking

Prelude to my father not taking to me for another 3 years.

My father once said he bets on people like they are horses
investing in them with hope that one of them will one day be the big pay off
While he treats those closest to him like mules demanding they pull heavier loads
constantly working his aggression out on them for not winning on the tracks

my father has never been single to a horse race but he sure loves those ponies

My father once said that if you make friends with the fat man
some grease will definitely rub off on you and you too will get fat
he ignores the implores of those who truly love him
those who tell him to take care of himself and eat lean

the doctor called a few days ago said his cholesterol is too high said his blood sugar levels are double what they should be, still he wants to get greasier

but my father ignores reason and presses his luck
chasing the dragon dragging some bucks
And I fear he will do this until one day at last
that dragon will about face and burn his dumb ass

Fun with Strangers

Connecting to server…
You’re now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!

Stranger: CHARIZARD
You: hi
Stranger: I CHOOSE YOU
You: oh noes
Stranger: CHARIZARD USE FLAMETHROWER
You: crap
Stranger: *GGGERRERRRRRRRWAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR*
Stranger: *fire and shit*
You: and shit
Stranger: YE
You: CMON
Stranger: YEA
Stranger: WHAT
You: fire i can deal with
You: but shit
Stranger: well no not like
Stranger: literal shit
Stranger: more like
You: oh ok
Stranger: fire and associated particles
You: got it
You: embers
Stranger: which would be included in a fiery blazing atack of awesome
Stranger: exactly
You: cool
Stranger: carbon type material
You: sure sure
Stranger: ok
You: not poo
Stranger: naw man
Stranger: nahhh
Stranger: well
You: POOIZORD go
Stranger: CHARIZARD GOOD JOB
Stranger: COME BACK
Stranger: NOW POLIWHIRL
You: FECAL ATTACK
Stranger: I CHOOZE YOU
Stranger: WAIT
Stranger: WAT
Stranger: WTF NO
Stranger: NOOOOOOOOO
Stranger: NOT POLYWHIRL
Stranger: FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-

Your conversational partner has disconnected.

U2 can B a rip off artist!

So first we heard Coldplay rip off Joe Satriani and an unknown indie band. But now the bloggers are asking and accusing all in one breath if/that U2 is rehashing Escape Club’s one and only hit “Wild Wild West”.

But how can we paint Escape Club is a victim of musical plagiarisms by Bono and his ilk. Didn’t they ripped off “Pump It Up” by Elvis Costello?

And wasn’t Elvis C. the one stole it from “Subterranean Homesick Blues” written by Bobby Dylan?

And didn’t Bob D. get it from Chuck Berry’s song “Too Much Monkey Business”?

Isn’t this proof that here we have it a copy of a copy of a duplicate of an awesome song which may have been ripped off by some artist time forgot. And who is getting rich here? Now I doubt Chucky got any sort of payment from U2 and the rest of the theives…erm I mean artists. So one would assume that the musical ethics watchdog, I speak of the RIAA is going after U2, are they not? No, hrmm. So help me out, if I download the shitty U2 song I am an evil pirate (yarrr!) but if you are a big fancy pants rock star and steal a few riffs that’s ok with the music industry?

Indeed too much monkey business.

So what am I going on about?
Hasn’t it all been done before?
Isn’t everything a rip off of every thing else?

I answer all these questions with a resounding NOPE.

The way I see it music and the way music is created will always be evolving. U2 may have been relevant once, though I am hard pressed to think of a time they were more than pop music schlock in tight leather pants, but now they are a bloated corporation more interested in furthering their bloat then innovating.

So who is innovating and generating new music? Well according to the internet mix-masters like Kutiman, you are (well maybe not you but you as the faceless non-TMZ featured populace). As you post your songs remakes or sound bites on the net, there is someone who sees the bigger picture, past the corporate greed, past the hunger for fame, past the radio hype into playing and making music for the selfless passion of it…

No go out there and make some music!

This Comic Sucks (The Naming)

Floride… take it easy

There’s nothing quite like staring a turkey coming out of the oven on Thanksgiving day. It’s very Norman Rockwellian in it’s grandiose display of over abundance and promise of a satisfied hunger. But then things get quite disturbing for this benevolent carcass. The breast becomes a mangled mess worthy of Jack the Ripper kudos, the splayed open legs and the “love me daddy” wings are either torn asunder or picked at and this promise reveals the ugly truth. Turkeys after the Thanksgiving feast always felt to me like they were striped naked, a victim of a violent crime. It’s like some one went up to that Norman Rockwell and painted penises all over it in sharpie.

I stopped eating meat a while ago but I still feel a tad guilty looking at the mangled carcass and thinking “leftovers”.

So we are officially in a recession and I wonder which of my friends will become “the leftovers” and when will I join them in the quest to avoid freezer burn. I guess America stopped being Rockwellian long ago but we were too busy shoving cranberry sauce into our collective pie holes to do much about it, I’m sure we may have even laughed at some of the penis sketches. Now I find my self asking what next? As well as the following questions:

• Do I abandon the dinner table and go to a different one?
• Maybe there will be more turkey and if so who will get rid of this one?
• Maybe there will be dessert, oh I hope it’s pecan pie, will there be pie?
• Why the hell does my father in-law keep pouring me scotch, does he hate my liver?

The only answer I came up with was let’s go to Sarasota. We did. It was grand. So I guess this is not the game over many men in suits and ties claim it to be. It’s more like, reset. I’m cool with that. Florida isn’t that bad of a place if you have a car and I always wanted to write a book.

Well Someone Has to…

MC Chris & Totally Michael

I saw them both along with some piss poor opener last night. Totally Michael was totally Andrew WK but more nerdy and less fratty. I bought the album for one song and now I wish I hadn’t. It’s not that TM put out a bad record it’s that you need to see him live in a small club going apeshit bananas on a crowd of fans who have 3 or more level 70 World of Warcraft characters. It’s funny cause most of these kids don’t particularly enjoy being touched much less being touched by a skinny sweaty spazz singing about having an erect phallus. Eventually they succumbed to the dance fever that Totally Michael was trying to sweat out.

Then MC Chris began his one man assault on the crowd who he told to walk like zombies toward him so that he can throw incendiary grenades at them. I was up in the balcony safe and sound with my homie Michael of the not Totally variety. MC Chris is in fact quite the opposite of TM since he is better on an album than as a showman. I mean unless you want to see a pasty white kid hop around on stage in front of a Mac. I guess that’s why I don’t go to rap concerts, you need at least guitarist to look interesting. There was also that matter of him prattling on about the zombie apocalypse for like 30 minutes. On the off chance that MC Chris reads this post, dear sir you are not Henry Rollins and this was not a spoken word, also, prozac may help. On a totally different note MC Chris announced his retirement from all things rap for the sake of doing some cartoon he thought up and successfully pitched. Gook luck with that Chris, you may want to talk to Jhonen Vasquez and avoid Nickelodeon like the plague.

Now in the spirit of hip hop I present:

Fluffy vs. Puffy

Fluffy 1: Puffy: 0

Good Riddence

So TRL is ending it’s unholy war against the youth and retiring. Some douche host said how great it was because they had a captive audience in TRL’s heyday that was not distracted by social networking sites like facebook or youtube. The stupid fuck actually almost accused the internet of deadening the attention span of viewers, like TRL was some sort of PBS. Well you know what Johnny Corporate Metrosexual Host Ass the world will be better of without MTV pushing it’s filth and mediocrity on your captive audiences. Let’s recap what TRL gave us and decide whether or not Carson Daly (and the rest of those responsible for TRL) deserves full blown aids:
The reign of suck that is Justin Timberlake, his baby poppin nutso gf Britney and countless of other worthless acts peddling this filth:

While totally ignoring the true talent:

It’s Late and I Giggled

Some companies need a financial bailout and some unveil legs for your crotch. There’s a metaphor for life somewhere in that but it’s way too late to worry my pretty little head over it. All I know is that these thing will sell like crack brownies at a PTA meeting and a new sexual fetish will be born, along with various pornos to feed that desire to see robolegs in fishnets.

Choose your poison