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Ay! Chill with the accusation. I been hatin these commerations and statutory enfatuations. Please forgive me, I have lost my appetite. For words and colors and turns of phrase that bite the nerves and remove the sense of immidiate viscinity I need to get a towel. Sure some of that may not make much sense but it's not the thought that counts it's how much you recompense. Gitty gitty bang bang shot a lotta trees, chop em down, grease em up and mark it with a p, then open up that oven and throw the baby into me. Stop. Don't judge. I can not be responsible for this color coded fugde, besides I like taffy. Some dis shit don't rhym and some don't make no sense, but it's not the thought that counts it's how much you recompense.

Biding my time until the time is right...

Music means different things to different people. One style adored will be rejected by another. That's the beauty of it. You find a band that speaks to you and it's like they are speaking to no one else. Sometimes when you find someone loves the same band as you do, you get territorial, at least you become skeptical as to the purity of their devotion.
Slipknot. They used to be a band that meant something.
They used to represent being stuck, being trapped. They were locked inside these masks, their human persona hidden from judgment. They were a mass of sick demented creatures, a human being in animal form. The 9 were a brotherhood, bound by their suffering, tormented by their self afflicted curse, seeking the salvation of the masses who share their SIC-ness. When an identity is hidden, a true voice can be revealed. The maniacal thoughts and demented perspective can be unleashed without fear, and in doing so terrify the masses. Their music, at times, cannot even be called music by traditional standards. It is just a cluster of noises, screams and crashes, but just because there isn't a time signature, does not disqualify these as notes.
Their second album was about outdoing the first. This is where they crossed the line, and things seemed a bit unnatural. In an attempt to outdo themselves, they overdo themselves. The slipknot message is still present, but the violence of this record becomes dangerous to their listeners. Technically speaking this may be their best set of recordings, but as far as messages go, this one is not for the impressionable.
Volume 3 is in my opinion their masterpiece, and I mean this not in the manner that one may perceive. Volume 3 is their best because it was written as they began to break down. The slipknot has been tied with volume 3. You can hear their sadness in the music. They are tired and weary. The masks are beginning to collect their toll. Human traits want to blossom from the dissonant dark decay. Tracks like vermillion part 2 and duality are painful to listen to. This pain is what makes this particular brand of music so righteous. We are there with the band as they suffer, and by being there we connect to them in a way that previous albums merely alluded to. This album is like a dead thorn-less rose that crackles into dust and whisps away in the wind.
That is how slipknot should have remained. They decided, however, to come back and sell out. Who wouldn't! There was more money on the table than ever. Their 4th album titled “All Hope is Gone” is ironically fitting to the legacy of Slipknot. All Hope is Gone ineed, we will never see Slipknot again. What we see now is a cover band comprised of the original members, acting out what they used to believe in; pretending to care as they once did. Their talent has faded, and they have turned into “rock stars.” Gluttony has won the battle. The members have all removed their masks and become celebrities. It is not so sad as it is frustrating. Why is it that great bands grow into shit? Why can't they just accept who they were and live on eternally in their original and future fan followings? All one can do is shake their head in disappointment. Now Paul Gray, a founding member of the band, is 6 feet under with morphine still coasting through his effervescent veins. May you rest in peace Paul, and may Slipknot rest with you.

Sincerely,

A former fan.

 

Everyone is all excited about Justin Beiber, but the kid is getting older and his appeal is dropping. Not me. I never get old. Most people spend their lives searching for the fountain of youth, while i'm trying to give it away. Do you know what it's like to howl at every full moon, hoping you will turn into a wearwolf so you can have a beard by age 30? Most people say you have to relate to your audience well, tough! Are there any 5 year olds out there? Ill show you how to be a t-rex. I remember gym class we had to change to get a good grade. All the guys had hair under their arms except me. I used to change with my arms down. Then they would spray themselves with a can of axe deodorant. I didn't because I couldn't sweat. I remember the only way I could get a girl to give me her phone number was if I told her I needed a baby sitter. Seriously, i'm the only guy at the bar who uses his library card as a form of id. The looks I get when I order a drink are outstanding. I ordered a jack and coke and got a souvenir sippy cup. The movies were a big thing in high school. I remember I was so excited when I turned 17 because I could finally see an R rated movie. My friends were so jealous, because I was the only one who paid kids price.

asDadas

hahaha

What exactly is humor? It's different for everybody, so what makes a person funny? Is it their ability to relate their own personal experiences to those of others? Is it a skewed viewpoint? Is it making simple connections to abstract ideas? If someone manages to find humor in a situation, what determines exactly how funny it is? The listeners mood? The speakers tone? How about their genuine discourse? Are they ecstatic or disgruntled? Why am I asking you all of these questions? Because I am seeking answers. Maybe in asking those questions I was inadvertently answering to call for resolution of my own concerns. I could never play a professional sport because every time I try to play with a chip on my shoulder, it falls off.

Old friends

There's always those people who you will never leave you. The people who you don't think about all the time, but when you do, you feel guilty for neglecting to do so. I have a friend who I used to be incredibly close with, and we have regrettably drifted apart. Somehow, we have managed to maintain the same level of friendship when we are around each other (though rare). I did not plan to write about this subject, but I suddenly felt compelled to do so. If you ever read this (person), know that I can't predict the future....just kidding, yes I can.

Love,
Hootenanny

"blog, blog, blog"

Why do they call it blogging? Is it because no one really cares what you're talking about? If you went up to a person on the street and began explaining your thoughts openly to them, they wouldn't care. Introduce a medium where they cannot attach face to name, and suddenly there's interest...though probably not much. Blogs are just online diaries. Remember when your little sister would get mad when you tried to read her diary? Well those days are over. Now everyone can read it. The more comfortable people become on these blogs, the more information they choose to share. They don't even think about who may be reading. I guess blog really is a fitting title for this particular past time. You can't call it blabbing because that sounds unappealing. In the physical world, when you talk too much about yourself all people can hear is "blah, blah, blah." So on the internet that must translate to "blog, blog, blog."