Category Archives: Music

Battle of the Black Dads

Black Dads

Four men enter, one man leaves. Who will emerge victorious?

George Jefferson- Wait a minute, did the Jeffersons even have kids? I vaguely remember them adopting a little blond-haired, blue-eyed child in a later season, but I could be mistaken. I would hate to see George eliminated on a technicality, because he’s probably the most badass father of the bunch. He had an amazing ferocity to him that was fueled by his hatred of whitey.

Lionel Jefferson! That was the name of his son. George had such a hands-off approach to child-rearing, he hardly seemed a father at all. Plus, Lionel was played by like three different actors over the years, so it was hard to keep track of him.

Bill Cosby- Don’t be fooled by his senile old man act- this squirrely bastard is a formidable foe. He’ll confuse challengers with one of his multi-colored sweaters and then use his epileptic dance moves to evade their attacks. Bibbity bop! Then he’ll tell them what poor fathers they are and that they are failures as black men and Carl Winslow will probably cry.

Carl Winslow- He’s a cop, so he’s got corruption on his side. Plus, he’s packing heat. It’s too bad he was such a pussy, always kowtowing to his domineering wife and fucking around with that bitch, Urkel. He was a decent father though, so maybe he can team up with Bill against the tougher dads before The Cos lays the socially conscious smackdown on them all.

Uncle Phil- Yes, I know this is about dads, but that was his name- Uncle Phil. This mountain of a man is the most physically imposing of the group and could give George Jefferson a run for his surly. Plus, he’s a lawyer, so if by some chance they beat him in a fight, he can sue the shit out of them. Then Carlton will dance and everything will be okay.

And the winner is…

America, because for those of us who didn’t have our own, these black dads have been coming into our homes via the TV for as long as we can remember, enriching our lives with their wit and wisdom, helping us to become men. Happy Black Father’s Day, everyone!

Before They Were Famous: Mastodon’s Brent Hinds in “The Abyss”

Brent Hinds - The Abyss

Little known fact: before he was shredding balls like wheat, Mastodon guitarist Brent Hinds was best known for yucking it up Hillbilly style in James Cameron’s underwater epic The Abyss. Hinds was a natural as Appalachian oil-rigger Sonny Dawson, and masterfully imbued the character with every ounce of his proud Alabamian upbringing. The film would go on to win the Academy Award for best visual effects, due in part to the CGI technology required to cover up the actor’s  extensive face tats.

Jamie Hyneman - The Abyss

Also in The Abyss, a young Jamie Hyneman as Lieutenant Hiram “Hot” Coffey, the psychotic SEAL with HPNS. (Get it? Cameron named the jittery, high-strung guy COFFEY. He so subtle.) As you can see, the future Mythbuster had already perfected his patented scowl and taken to wearing brimless hats. His mustache, however, had yet to come into its own.

Oh yeah- and if those aliens were so smart, why didn’t they know their technology would fuck with the subs electronics? The whole incident could easily have been avoided. Jerks.

30 Seconds To Douche Chills

If you even make it that far. 17 years after Kurt Cobain killed himself, Jared Leto makes me want to do the same. Out of embarrassment.  He claims he made this video back when they (Van Zant?) were making a movie about the troubled troubadour because he wanted to “explore the character.” Bullshit. You made it yesterday because you want people to pay attention to you. I’m sure Courtney Love will eat this up and will probably want to bang you because of it, but the majority of people who aren’t enamored with your shitty band will most likely find it unwatchable. You’re no Kurt Cobain. You’re barely a Tom Delonge. In fact, I’d like to see the two of you duke it out for the title of “World’s Cheesiest Douche Rocker.” So the next time you decide to play dress up, stick to the pink mohawks and guy-liner. Leave our heroes out of it.

Jared Leto Pink Mohawk

Transexual Punk Rock Rooster

Runnin’ A Bieber: Or Why I Never Want Daughters Of My Own

Via those chucklebuckets over at thedanzatap:

Bieber on Chat Roulette

Bieber flash

Runnin A Bieber

A warning to all you fathers out there with slutty daughters who are dumber than dirt- the internet is a dangerous place. She may think she’s flashing her underage taters to K.D. Lang Justin Bieber, but it’s probably just a room full of Tri-Lams. The fact that the Bieb didn’t move or speak should have been their first clue. What, did he use telepathy to tell them he wanted to see their breasts?

I love the look of horror on the poor girl’s face in the last set. I don’t think she’d ever seen a black guy before.

Tonetta Has A Small Cock, But A Very Big Heart

It’s time, my children. I think you are finally ready to be subjected to the nauseatingly erotic musical stylings of the one and only… TONETTA. What is a Tonetta, you ask? Well, if a picture speaks a thousand words then these videos are a dictionary fight during a U.N. trip to the Tower of Babel that turns into an all out orgy. All you need to know is in the videos, but Jason Dean over at
7 inches
is the internet’s foremost Tonetta expert, and extols the man’s virtues with the precision a scholar HERE and HERE.

Not only is Tonetta a consummate performer, he is also a lyrical genius. Take, for example, the poetry that is G and B Showers:

Gonna be your drain tonight
You won’t last a week if you don’t release
so please release it all over me
I’ve got no complaints as long as it rains

Dump it on me all night
as warm as it is black
I won’t complain, I can handle your crap
Let me be your drain tonight

Don’t be afraid, my child. Those feelings you are experiencing are normal. It doesn’t matter if they are in your heart, your mind or in your crotch. Because Tonetta owns all three. You belong to him now. Go with the nice man.

Angels and Assholes

Angels and Assholes

So a while back I wrote a review (…From The Future!) of the Angels and Airwaves vanity project LOVE. Anyone with half a brain could see that it was nothing more than facetious satire. Cut to a month and a half later (because these kids are a little on the SLOW side) and the A&A community are hopping pissed. Turns out, they’re not all about peace and love like Mr. Burns after his longevity treatment; they’re a bunch of intolerant homophobic cyber-bullies.

Check the comments section of my original review to see what makes Tom Delonge’s mascara run. Click the image below for the concurrent rabble-rousing on the AVA message board.

Angels and Assholes 2

It’s sad, really. They can talk the talk, but the second someone disagrees with them or pokes a little fun, they fly off the handle (AKA Tom Delonge’s dick) and start calling people faggot. Granted, no one over the age of 16 likes this band, but still. There’s no excuse for what happened over at the jabber Facebook page. Way to represent your message, guys!

Angels and Homophobes

Not that it matters. The only thing the “message” of Angels and Airwaves improves is Tom Delonge’s bank account. He’s like the leader of a religious cult, benefiting from the unquestioning devotion of his sheep-like acolytes. Guess what, guys- there’s no spaceship/comet waiting to fly you to heaven once you drink the poison Kool-Aid. And you’re certainly not making the world a better place. Just a funnier one.

Asslickers, Inc.

If you are a regular reader of this blog, chances are you’ve heard of Eastern European/Slavic conglomerate The Ocean. We’ve sung their praises around these parts before, specifically in a post that was half Norse mythology, half soft-core romance novel.

This track, while not one of the band’s best, may have one of the greatest titles ever. Recorded during the “-centric” sessions, Asslickers Inc. is The Ocean‘s brutal ode to America’s favorite pastime- tongue-punching the ole fart box. Disagree? Just look at the cover of the compilation it appears on. It features a flower-like vortex of flesh, a maelstrom whose downdraft leads to a hot, pulsing core. Get caught in its wake and you will be trapped forever.

Yet Another Case Of “This Guy Has An Oscar Now”

Which I guess is only slightly more palatable to stuffy white people than Eminem or Three 6 Mafia. It’s hard to believe the same people who voted for marble-mouth Randy Newman  awarded Trent Reznor a statue as well. This is the guy who made the pseudo snuff film Broken and turned the phrase, I want to fuck you like an animal into a pop hook. Blackie Lawless would be proud, but Alfred Newman (Randy’s uncle) is rolling in his grave. In a top hat and tails.

Queen Mum Drops New Radiohead On Unsuspecting Populace, Biggest Sneak Attack Since Pearl Harbor

King of Limbs

Those crafty Brits over at Radioheadquarters have just announced the details of long-player numero ocho, which will be released like a digital Kraken this Saturday, February 19th, in the year of our Lord, 2011. I don’t have time to rehash them, so click HERE for details.

What I do have time for are some ruminations on the title and its creepy artwork. King of Limbs is apparently a thousand year-old tree that inhabits Savernake Forest, which is in close proximity to the house the band recorded In Rainbows in. It is also a term referenced in the Koran (those wacky liberal musicians!)

But the true King of Limbs is older than any future paper or book of fairy tales. He’s been prowling the murky depths for millions of years, biding his time- and now’s his time to shine! That’s right, I’m talking about a little cephalopod who goes by the name of Octopus vulgaris. No one has more limbs than that motherfucker!  And Radiohead knows it, because guess who graces the cover of the new album in all their majestic glory? Not Allah or some goddamn tree, but your garden variety ghost octopus, commonly referred to as a ghoctopus. Long live the king!

February Is Black Metal History Month

Black Metal History Month

Finally, something for white people to celebrate. Those headbangers over at Metal Injection have declared February Black Metal History Month, and will be posting related material throughout. To celebrate, I present my own musings on the art, posted way back in April ’07.

NONE MORE BLACK

Ghaal - crucified boy

What the fuck you say about me, jabber?

In said article, I insensitively refer to Slipknot as a bunch of “Kiss jocking homos,” which is a horrible thing to say, I know, because no one deserves to be compared to Corey Taylor. The irony of the whole thing is that Gaahl, the bad-ass motherfucker I was branding as the antithesis of all that, turned out to actually be gay. And we’re not talking fuck-a-burly-lumberjack-in-the-woods-cause-I’m-bored kind of gay. We’re talking my-boyfriend-is-a-clothing-designer-and-we-are-going-to-launch-a-clothing-line-for-women gay.

Gaahl is gay

Gaahl and his schnookumz

Still, it doesn’t diminish how downright terrifying the man is. This is a guy who tied up and tortured a trespasser for six hours, forcing the man to drink his own blood. So I guess what I’m trying to say here is, Gaahl, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry. Please don’t show up at my house in the middle of the night and pull my lungs out through my asshole and strangle me with them. It was all a big misunderstanding. Happy Black Metal History Month.