Sunday, December 26, 2010

Limerick Sunday: Sucks to be blind

There once was a fellow named Dale
Who lost both of his arms to a whale
And then after a fight
that had cost him his sight
had one hell of a time reading braille

Thursday, December 23, 2010

You Know What I Hate?

Lazy Lyricists

The key word is lazy. I've accepted that there are plain old terrible lyricists, and that they will almost inevitably be popular. What really bugs me is when they're lazy, prodigy or idiot. I know, I know, we live in a time of instantaneous communication. “kk, ill b there n 2”. No one has the two seconds it takes to type out a full word much less think about the ones they're using. Ostensibly, lyrics would be different, long lasting, meaningful. The pop-poetry of the digital age. Nope.
If you know me, you'll know I hate, but I'll assume you don't and use it as an excuse to give you an example; I think it speaks for itself: “Honeys always rush me cuz I'm fly, fly, fly.” This repetition might be sufficiently annoying on its own had he not informed us, two lines earlier, that honestly, he's got to stay as fly as he can be. And you know what, that's perfectly acceptable, I know I have to stay as fly as I can be, which is why I don't repeat the same word three times over if I can avoid it. The issue is that even if you're striving for this 'I gave my intern a rhyming dictionary, got plastered and wrote things that rhymed!' aesthetic, there's no reason to repeat the same word three times in a row when there are equally mundane, but less offensively lazy variations like 'so damn fly' or 'disco superfly' which would have been a bad-ass marcy playground reference. And maybe, MAYBE this would be forgivable if he didn't rhyme 'shock collar' with 'collar' later on. Come on dude, you're working with pretty simple rhythmic structures, take the time to not riff on the same fucking word.
It happens to good guys too though. Mumford and Sons, oh Mumford and Sons. I love you guys, seriously. Thats what makes the fuck ups so awful. Whats wrong with this picture?

“The harvest left no food for you to eat
You cannibal, you meat-eater, you see”

Ok, that rhyme is pretty bad, but the real issue is 'eat' and then 'meat-eater'. A. you've got the repetition. B. meat-eater? Are you talking to a fucking fourth grader? It wouldn't bother me if Mum and Sons didn't have the potential (frequently filled) to be soul-tearingly beautiful. But meat-eater? And that's to say nothing of the way the guy actually pronounces that hyphenated abomination. Again, I wouldn't take issue if there wasn't a far better replacement. Think about it for a minute. This is a little tougher than the one. Three syllable word for 'meat-eater'. Got it? Carnivore. Fucking carnivore. Maybe there's a reason meat-eater was preferable, even given the presence of 'eat' in the previous line....wait. No. there isn't.

For fuck's sake guys. THINK.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010


The sale couldn't possible have come at a better time. Yeah, she wasn't exactly struggling to make ends meet, but this would put her over the top; she really wanted that flat-screen and this was just the guy to give it to her. Right, not literally, but he was paying sticker price, so he might as well be. She guided him to her office and pulled out the paperwork, pinching herself the whole way. She looked him up and down as she fumbled for her pen. He sure was a character, well, a character insomuch as he was as unremarkable as a guy in an Armani suit buying a Ferrari at sticker price; a stereotypical character. A stereotypical character with one hell of a checkbook.
And then, he went to sign.
She was startled by his yelp, but he seemed to be signing alright, which eased her nerves. At least he wasn't seizing, that had been a terrible experience. She didn't have to tell him to put the date-
and initial-
She let out the breath she'd been holding. He looked up and started to explain, not falling all over himself like she thought he would, but coolly, casually, like it wasn't something that scared the living hell out of people.
“Oh I'm sorry,” clearly he wasn't.
“I just have this condition,” damn right he did. He was a madman.
“Where I can only use my right hand while yelling,” like he couldn't have mentioned this before.
“I'm sorry I didn't mention this before,” what, a fucking mind reader now?
“but I didn't want it to affect our professional relationship,” right, sure.
“but as for our personal relationship,” was he kidding?
“I'd like to see what we can do about that.”
He winked.
“So let me get this straight,” she asked.
“You're right handed?”
He made eyes at her while he nodded.
“The lady in the apartment above me is pretty temperamental, so I don't see how this could work out, but thanks anyway.”
She didn't try and shake his hand.