Wednesday, May 15, 2013



Has anyone else noticed how easily the modern media adds "gate" onto any given weekly scandal (and there are many)? Nkandla-gate. Gupta-gate. I was labouring under the obviously false impression that the use of "gate" was reserved for the truly heinous "once in a lifetime" act that comes along very, very rarely and warrants massive media attention, not to mention long term sustained interest in the collective psyche?

Oh no! I shit my pants this morning! Underpants-gate!
Angelina lops off her acting ability? Boob-gate!
Microsoft brings out yet another flop upgrade? Bi... Oh, never mind...

Faeceboobs has dished up yet another delightful individual, brim full of delightful insights, who has chosen to add credence to the belief that all metalheads are mouth-breathing cretins by writing something nasty to a friend of mine. The backlash has been extremely entertaining, but as much as it is a pleasant little distraction from my daily struggle with boredom-induced homicide, it also illustrates that there are still utter dickbags among us. And illustrates the fact rather painfully. I have made a promise to myself to refrain from making observations regarding the incorrect use of grammar or the way some people prefer to butcher the spelling of a word. So this will be a much shorter post than usual. But the gist of this outpouring of vitriol is that my friend is a great big fat nerd who sucks at playing his instrument of choice and, by virtue of the fact that his band has chosen ANY sub-genre other than the clearly universally popular "Technical Dirtnap Merrills", a bit soft in the crotch-rocket department.

I despair...

Now I know I always mock that whole "brotherhood of metal" shit as far too medieval for my taste, and seeing as I'm not really a metalhead anyway, I'll continue to pooh-pooh the "hail, hail, fail, chainmail" sect, but having been allowed to watch with detached inebriation from the bar all these years, I've always thought that metalheads kind of stuck together. That is, until the advent of social ME-dia, when all of a sudden being a cock-swoggler became popular. Fine, so be it. But if you're being that way on purpose, more than likely to show everyone what an absolute bad ass you are, and then by association, your music, perhaps you should first make sure your product has the chops to stand up to scrutiny...

Bottom line? Leave my friends alone. Especially the lovable MSG. He plays metal, has an awesome girlfriend (in real life and everything!) and he . fucking . works . for . PLAYBOY magazine! Oh, and if you're going to go all Gaahl on well read people, you may want to assess your own prowess with the written word before hitting the send button.

Or maybe the individual is merely having a bad day and it's all been taken out of context or too seriously. I believe that menstruation is difficult for some people.

Whichever it is, I am merely an observer, perched up on my lofty little soapbox, dishing out unwanted advice with a sort of aloof condescension. Man, I hate people like me! And I believe that everything (except alcoholism) can be cured by having a drink. So matey, whoever you are (I don't know this guy), if we ever happen to be in the same place at the same time, drinks are on me. Let's not pull in opposite directions.

It is also entirely possible that this is some sort of elaborate hoax or promotional prank, in which case all of the above is reduced to a steaming pile of haggis flavoured dandruff flakes...

Steel Panther's Daily Gem: Death to all Butt Metal!

Spread The Love. Regardless Of Subgenre.

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