Rush Limbaugh and the Power of Music

Do you listen to the words in any of the music that MTV, iTunes, and Clear Channel feed you, or do you just like "the beat" or think that "he/she has a great voice"? I agree, lyrics are overrated, as are words in general. I barely know how to read or write, but thanks to the miracle of voice recognition software, I can still successfully operate a blog that people can listen to using other software intended to help blind people access the Internet. Sometime, though, words can be dangerous, which is why God/America created music.

Take the song "Unfaithful" by Rihanna, for example. To be fair, this song was not written by said artist, but by a group of corporate hacks who's goal is to sell as much homogeneous garbage as possible (and who are apparently very, very good at their chosen profession). That said, every time I hear this song at the gym, I feel a strong urge to reach down my throat and rip my own spinal cord out through my mouth to stop the unbearable agony that this song causes me. This is because I have a rare medical condition that leaves me unable to ignore song lyrics, and so I am forced to actually think about what she is saying. In case you are morbidly curious, the song is about how painful it is for her to see her boyfriend destroyed by her ongoing affair. Right.

Back to my main point, though. If you actually read the lyrics to this song, or listened to someone read a transcript of it, you would probably not survive. Your mind simply could not handle the stress of such banality, and your brain would be ripped apart like the Tacoma Narrows Bridge in a hurricane. This is why you simply listen to "the beat" and "her voice" every time you watch the video, play the song on your iPod, or request it for the fifth time today on the radio. If the music was not there to protect you from the words, there would be dire consequences.

Still don't believe me? Well, that's convenient, because I have created a demonstration to prove my point. What I have here is an excerpt from Rush Limbaugh's first radio broadcast after completing a drug treatment program (that's right, it happened). Normally, this would be impossible to listen to, and it might even be dangerous. The clip has been edited, however, and set to the intro from "None Shall Pass" by Aesop Rock (a great song available for free download here), rendering it magically tolerable. Just listen.

If you were to listen to this excerpt in its original form, you would need a week long drug and alcohol bender to erase it from your brain before you could function normally again. Thanks to Aesop, though, it's still not good, but at least you're distracted from the words. And that, my friends, is the power of music.

Note: This post violates multiple copyright laws, and uses a good song is a way that would almost certainly not be appreciated by the artist (my apologies to Aesop Rock and Definitive Jux Records). It does, however, mock Rush Limbaugh. And that, I think we can all agree, is what really matters.

Scripture Lesson

Do you fear homosexuals because God (read: "James Dobson and Pat Robertson") told you to? Or do you fear them because they are revolting, and because you personally can't stand the thought of those disgusting, sweaty, perverted things that you imagine them doing every time you see a man with tight pants, that you see in gory, graphic detail every time you close your eyes, and that haunt your dreams every single night when you sleep and distract you when you're trying to work or watch baseball? Or do you simply fear them because Bill O'Reilly does?

Regardless of your reason, rest assured that it is valid, and that your position is totally justified. In the unlikely event that you ever begin to doubt yourself and begin to think of homosexuals as "people", instead of Satan's army sent to murder your children, turn your wife into a crew-cut lesbian, and force you to listen to David Bowie, you can always fall back on the highest source of authority, as translated into American English (God's language).

That's right, I'm talking about the immortal wisdom of the book of Leviticus, which states unequivocally: Do not lie with a man as one lies with a woman; that is detestable (Leviticus 18:22). Apparently, the godless, queer-sympathizing half of America just cannot understand this, but it could not possibly be more clear. Also, in case you've forgotten, here is a short refresher list of other moral reminders from Leviticus:

• Do not wear clothing woven of two kinds of material (19:19)
• Do not cut the hair at the sides of your head or clip off the edges of your beard (19:27)
• ...anyone who blasphemes the name of the LORD must be put to death. The entire assembly must stone him (24:16)
• Your male and female slaves are to come from the nations around you; from them you may buy slaves (25:44)

These are all very straightforward, simple instructions, which anyone should be able to understand. So put on your 100% cotton t-shirt, comb your beard, gather up your Canadian slaves, and get out there and stone you some blaspheming homosexuals. It's your responsibility as a Christian, and it's the only course of action. Because God said so, right here on this blog.
 

Skip Bayless Sucks

There's no punchline to this one. That guy's an asshole.

Won't Somebody Please Think of the Children?

Do you have any idea what your kids are watching on TV? Of course you don't. That TV is way the hell down in the basement in your eight year old's room, and you'll be damned if your going to walk all the way down there just to see what's on when you have a perfectly good widescreen plasma right here in your room, a 21" flat panel in the living room, the new LCD in the den, and the old standby on the end of the dinner table. Anyway, that's really your wife's responsibility, and since she's tied up watching reruns of Sex and the City in the living room, why should you be bothered to turn off the game to go talk to your damn kids?

Damn straight. But what if...wait, don't we get Cinemax? Oh god. The kids could be watching porn, or worse yet, hearing strong language and viewing situations meant for adult audiences, for which viewer discretion might be advised! OK, don't freak out, you're just imagining the worst-case scenario...it's probably not that bad. Yeah, they're probably just surfing the Internet and setting up their Myspace pages so that they can meet some new friends and give their names, ages, address, phone number, and a map of their route to school to strange men with vans and mustaches.

Wait, what? Oh god! How could this have happened? Who let my children get exposed to these awful things, and what can I do to stop this before it's too late? Alright, don't panic. Just turn the volume down on TV and think about this. OK. Should I start with the letter to my congressman to demand censorship, or should I call my lawyer about suing Myspace and the cable company? And Dell and Panasonic, they're at least partially responsible since they provided the equipment. Alright, let's see here...oh, the school, too. How could those bastards not have warned my kids about online predators and inappropriate comedy shows? Who else? I don't think I can sue my wife without getting a divorce, but what about her parents? I could probably take some kind of action against them. After all, they did give us that TV for Christmas. All right, that's a good list to start with, now where's my lawyer's number?

What's that, honey? I can't hear you very well, I'm watching the game. The kids? I don't know, can't you check on them? I know they might be doing something they shouldn't, but I'm working on it, OK? Man, somebody's gonna f*@%ing pay for this.

An American Hero

I've always had difficulty answering questions about who my heroes are. I suppose I have always been hesitant to believe that a person can rise to a level of excellence that deserves the total, unabashed admiration of complete strangers and the label "hero".

Today, however, my highest hopes for mankind have finally been realized. The zenith of human achievement has been reached, and we all stand in awe of a true American hero: John Giboney.

That's right, my friend. That photo you see here is real, and it really does depict John (who once famously drank a 24 oz bottle of maple syrup in 20 seconds) chugging an enormous quantity of pickle juice, a stunt which he miraculously survived unharmed.

With the performance of such a spectacular feat, how can anyone place a limit on the potential of man to achieve, to conquer all obstacles in the single minded pursuit of greatness? Surely the cure for cancer, the control of nuclear fusion, and the return of good Simpsons episodes must be just around the corner, as word of John's accomplishment spreads around the globe, inspiring a generation of young people.

So for those of you who know John, buy this man a drink. And for those of you who don't, you can still raise your glasses and drink a toast to a true American hero.

Canada Sucks

Some of you out there may not approve of the title of this post, and I might even be accused of being a racist. However, the Canadiens are not a race, they are a hockey team, and the Canadians aren't a race either, they're just polite Americans with funny accents and free medical care. In fact, the title of this blog entry is a little misleading, as I have been to Canada twice and found it to be a very nice place filled with friendly people and progressive politics.

What I really meant to say, and what would have been a more appropriate title, is that Magdalena, New Mexico sucks. That's much better, because not only is it the way I feel, it's an objective fact. If you don't believe me, read its Wikipedia article (keeping in mind that Wikipedia's policies prevent articles from stating that something sucks, so you might have to read between the lines a little), or just look at it here on Google Maps. Seriously, this place is a barren, God forsaken hell hole out in the middle of the desert. It has one gas station, the entire town lies directly on the highway, and its entire economy is dependent on speeding tickets given out by their cop (singular).

Which brings me to my next point: I am a fugitive from justice, and I can never again risk entering the state of New Mexico for fear of incarceration. That's right, I refuse (or repeatedly forget) to pay the extortion fee leveled against me for reaching 65 mph eight seconds too early, and so a warrant has been issued for my arrest (I think). So if anyone from New Mexico is reading this, the next time you're down at the Department of Motor Vehicles, tell them that they can have my $65 when they pry it from my cold, dead hands (or when I finally remember to mail that damn ticket). And Magdalena, New Mexico (and not Canada after all) sucks.

Save Yourself

It occurred to me a while back (read: three and a half minutes ago) that I've gotten away from the original purpose of my blog: convincing people that the Internet is a weird, terrible place, and that your involvement with it will, sooner or later, cause your brain to explode within your head, leaving your lifeless body propped up in your computer chair reading blogs. This is not a joke, and your life is in serious danger.

The only way to save yourself is to immediately navigate away from my site and purchase a plane ticket to Dhaka. As soon as you're done with that, go to the garage, get out your ladder, climb to the top of your house, and throw your computer from the roof. Climb down and set what's left of it on fire, then run over it several times with your car until you're sure that it's dead.

I realize that it's a little late to lecture you, but you probably should have listened to your fourth grade teacher when he/she told you to read all the directions before you start something. Because if you didn't, then now you're stuck with a destroyed laptop and an expensive plane ticket to a place you've never heard of, you have no idea what to do next because the rest of the directions are online, and you're pretty much screwed. If you're still reading this, though, congratulations! You did learn something in grade school, and our public school system seems like a little less of a dismal failure. You're still in pretty serious trouble, though, so stay with me here.

Now that you've killed your computer before it could kill you, and you have your plane ticket, get your ass to the airport and abandon civilization. You can't risk staying here, because by the end of the week your TV will have convinced you to buy a new computer, and you'll be right back here drinking whiskey from the bottle and crying yourself to sleep while you update your Facebook profile.

If you're still reading this, what the hell is wrong with you? Do you not understand what is at stake here? Get on the plane, get off the plane onto a goat, and ride the goat out into the Bangladeshi wilderness where the Internet won't find you for at least two years. Godspeed, friend.