Fuck emo

The other day I was in my undies, flipping through the channels, and watched a few videos on FUSE. Since the FUSE studio is down the block from my job, and there’s always sad misunderstood emo-shits decked out in black (like the color of their contaminated souls), I look on the channel with utter abhorrence. But, being it’s my week off from work, I was so lazy I couldn’t even muster the energy to flip the channel. Hence, as I watched dudes with black lipstick complain about the dads they hate, I started thinking. First, I remembered how Timps theorized that Darth Vader was the ultimate emo icon. Think about it. His entire body is black, he’s always sad, and, judging by the picture above, he can also wail on the guitar (using the Force, knowning a "Sithing"). Furthermore, upon Googling the issue, I came across this music video. Enjoy! Secondly, I was also reminded of an article I wrote from my school paper about emo! Check, check, check it out!

I Bought A Good Charlotte Album, Now I’m Going to Dye My Hair Blue with Koolade and Get My Forehead Pierced:

My Reflects on the New Found Glory – Good Charlotte Concert

Well since the newspaper got me a free ticket to the New Found Glory – Good Charlotte show I suppose now I have to write a review about it. Moreover, what would a review from a guy with a column titled “My Atrocious Opinion” be if I did not whine about something? Finding something to gripe about was as easy as beating up an eight year old girl, being the idiocy of pop culture attracted the dregs of society to our collge like Pete Townshend (Blogger’s note: remember when Townshend was caught with kiddie porn on his comp!) to a Chucky Cheese; hence providing me with plenty of gratuitous ammunition to wild out on.

The first abomination I plan to address in this rant is the moronic attire displayed throughout campus. Now I warned everyone in my last article that true high school “punk rawkers” were going to show up and act stupid but even I was blown away by the execratory I witnessed. I mean I can understand venerating your favorite band, but do you really need to embarrass yourself by wearing clothes that have the look of “I-purchased-this-from-a-former-satanic-cult-members’-yard-sale-for-thrity-cents”? Listen dudes, you’re not going to see me grow out a mullet and make out with my sister just because I’m the proud owner of Eddie Moneys’ Greatest Hits: The Sound of Money. These kids need to realize that not only is “punk rock” dead (and has been since they were in diapers), but the actual music that they are “rebelling” with is the MTV variety brand of POP.
So, aside from the ugly mesh hats, painted black fingernails, holes in the body where there shouldn’t be holes, dirty hair and overall dirty people, half the music at the concert earned my approval. Hot Rod Circuit and Less than Jake both effectively rocked off my face among other parts of my body which are not suitable to cite in this article. On a scale from American Idol to Total Awesomeness, I rate those two bands a Zack Morris cell phone and half a McDonalds # 2 value meal.

Even New Found Glory, I find I’m tangled in a Love-Hate relationship with. I do admit to loving their album Nothing Gold Can Stay, a guilty pop punk pleasure that snakes its way into my CD player once-in-a-while. I have also been caught naked, wailing on an air guitar to their cover of the Titanic song. Although, I do hate the fact their sound has become so mainstream as of lately. I hated even more that during their performance of “My Friend’s Over You” some 200-plus pound girl, oscillating like she was convulsing from cheeseburger withdrawals, elbowed me in the face (I still have the bruise).

As for Good Charlotte, it is just a hate relationship, in which I loathe them. To cite one manifesto of their complete hypocrisy, I will allude to a line from “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous”:

“Lifestyles of the rich and the famous
They're always complaining, always complaining
If money is such a problem
Well they got mansions
Think we should rob them”

This lyrical virtuoso (sarcasm), while its’ grandiose versification is awe inspiring (sarcasm) there is a radiating double standard. You see, before the concert, as I was killing time (with my face still attached to my head) prior to Hot Rod Circuit and Less than Jake rocking parts of my body to China, I perused the swanky Good Charlotte clothing line. While all their propagandist-clothing defecations were ludicrously over priced, the one item that floored me was a belt buckle for $25. Those power chord-playing hobos actually had the audacity to try and hawk a plastic piece of punk-junk for 25 big ones! How can a band charge all that money for a belt buckle, an accessory to an accessory, and then go on stage and sing (sarcasm) about “The Rich and Famous”. I hope for their sake they don’t take themselves seriously or else they should contemplate mass suicide (no sarcasm).

I don’t mean to sound bitter; well, yes I do mean to sound bitter but all I’m asking for is a good headlining act. I’m not demanding a musical messiah like Radiohead; I’d settle from some drugged out, washed up 80s’ band that would play cheap. You can’t tell me that REO-“friggin’ awesome”-Speedwagon would turn down a college gig; they’d probably serenade us for a rotting chicken patty and a high five from a janitor.

Although I don’t blame SEB or the student volunteers, they definitely did an awesome job. My respect goes out to the dudes manning the pit. Catching crowd surfing fatsos with Mohawks is no easy task, but those beefcakes met the challenge and would have put a proud smile on Hulk Hogan’s face. I know a wiener like myself couldn’t handle a job like that.

Well, to conclude this seething dissertation I would like us all to remember a quote. To personify my nerdom I draw from Star Wars, spoken by Obi-Won Kenobi:

“Who is more foolish, the fool or the fool who follows?”