What the VMA awards would look life if God was doing his job right.

After listening to so much crap about the VMA awards and reading the roster, it came to my attention that everyone on the show sucked. And I mean SUCKED. We are talking about a suck so epic, that I'm pretty sure the VMA awards are the biggest insult to God since the Tower Of Babel, an attempt by a bunch of stupid people to pierce the heavens with a massive phallus, which is basically what the VMA awards are.

So, rather than doing anything productive, I took a few minutes out of my busy Sunday night, turned up the music in my room real loud so I could pretend to ignore my family asking me to do things (I'm listening to some Rhapsody of Fire, by the way, check them out) and produced a list of how the VMA awards would have been handed out if MTV actually knew what music is.

Now, I'm sure that my thinking may not be super apparent in all of these topics, so I graciously provided a caption under all of them, so my reasoning would be more clear. Now that this is all in place, you have absolutely no reason short of admitting you listen to crappy music to disagree.

Of course, in arguing, you will probably be wrong.

Also, please note that I created this list based off of the past victories list from the MTV website. I do admit things probably have changed since then, so please, don't bother mentioning that.

Now that we have that out of the way, here we go!

Video Of The Year: Kamelot – Love You To Death
(If you wonder why, you probably aren’t capable of actually hearing things. OR seeing them for that matter)

Best Alternative Video: Korpiklaani – Vodka
(Alternative doesn’t really have any meaning besides the evil marketing executives thinking “well, we can’t instantly give these guys a label that corresponds to a vague base value, let’s slap an alternative label so everybody who think they’re different because they mix it up by listening to bands they actually discover on their own once and a while will buy it because it’s alternative”. What’s sad is that these people are right. This award goes to Korpiklaani for being unapproachably distinctive.)

Best Art Direction – Omadaka- Kokiriko Bushi
(Seeing as one guy with a lot of time on his hands managed to accomplish what the MTV drones still haven’t managed to even touch, Omadaka deserves this award)

Best Cinematography: Tarja – I Walk Alone
(Funny, I thought this was about the music. Either way, Tarja gets this award. I Walk Alone is like watching a movie. A rather good movie by Tarja standards)

Best Choreography: DJ Ozma – Age Age! Every Knight.
(If you don’t get this one, just tell any Mori No Ike person that AAEK isn’t amazing.. Then, try to ensure that you manage to squeeze most of your vital organs back into your body so you can at least die in mostly one piece)

Best Concept Video: Anj - Gorbachev
(If you wonder why, you haven’t seen the video yet)


Best Editing: Eluveitie - Omnos
(A beautiful cinematic masterpiece that tells a story in a language that has long since gone extinct)

Best Female Video: Sirenia – Path To Decay
(This is only until Epicas’ new video comes out)

Best Group: Kamelot
(Really)

Best Group Video: Kamelot – Love You To Death
(You may notice that Kamelot is winning a lot of awards here. You may also notice that Kamelot deserves a lot of awards.)

Best Hard Rock video: Hammerfall – Any Means Necessary
(Stuff exploding then reforming, only to explode again. And Hammerfall. Yes)

Best Heavy Metal Video: Battlelore – The Third Immortal
(Take an epic drum score, contrasting vocals and a chick who is fluent in Elven and you get a masterpiece)

Best Hip-Hop: The Cruxshadows – My Revenge On The World
(In addition to being one of the few Goth bands that produces dance music, The Cruxshadows are about the closest that you can get to conventional hip-hop without sucking)

Best Long-Form Video: Therion – The Miskloc Experience
(Therion + Entire Orchestra = F*** YEAH SEAKING)

Best Male Video: Gackt – Jesus
(In addition to being horribly ironic and possibly blasphemous, this video is a great combination of Gackt’s awesome and a nice healthy dose of an hero)

Best Metal\Hard Rock Video: Amorphis – Silver Bride
(While I have a nagging feeling that this topic has already been addressed, I’m just moving down the list of categories. Also, this is the perfect place for Amorphis to win something. Hooray!)

Best New Artist: Katra and/or Glass Delirium
(While Glass Delirium is more awesome than Katra, Katra does pull the one up by having a video with more special effects than Glass Delirium’s live video. To whichever member checks the Facebook: please make a video soon!)

Best Overall Performance: Kamelot
(Again)

Best Pop Video: Gackt – The Next Decade
(Delivering a healthy dose of Gackt in a way that only Gackt can)

Best R&B Video: None (Yet)
(Seeing as R&B really just consists of artists talking about sex, money, drugs, fast cars and monogamy, I’m making a video that features me walking around Downtown Denver in some mismatched clothes from popular stores while talking in a really off-key way about having sec in a fast car while doing drugs and being monogamous while scantily-clad women dance around the prove the point. This will be the best video of the year.)

Best Rock Video: The GazettE – Distress And Coma
(The GazettE’s long awaited return to the Stacked Rubbish style. Hooray!)

Best Special Effects: Hammerfall – Any Means Necessary
(So I’ve been told it costs a lot of money to blow things up)

Best Stage Performance: Therion
(I was almost tempted to give this to Kamelot. The contest ended up being decided by who has more Snowy Shaw.)

Best Video From A Film: Gackt – Ghost
(Electro-dance mix and The Terminator. I think so!)

Best Video Game Soundtrack: Guilty Gear XX Λ Core Plus
(The fact that it has Doctor Faust in it is a simple added plus)

Female Artist Of The Year: Simone Simons of Epica
(There’s no contest to this one. At all)

Male Artist Of The Year: Miyavi
(Ask around)

Most Earth Shattering Collaboration: Annete Olzen and Pain – Follow Me
(If that’s not a big deal, I don’t know what is)

Most Experimental Video: Anj – Gorbachev
(Stalin Zombies, Strippers, Capitalist rain and Prime Minister Of Russia Killing Machine? Beat That!)

Quadruple Thwart Of the Year: Roy Khan + Shagrath + Shsaca Parith + Thomas Youngblood
(Although this is a bit old, this category was obviously invented as a onetime thing. Also, the results of this super-lineup were enough to make this the Quadruple Threat of every year. Literally)

Video Vanguard Award: Sonic Syndicate – POWERSHIFT
(I actually have no idea what this award is. So I’m giving to a band I stopped paying attention to)

Viewer’s Choice Award: Gackt – Jesus
(A guy who looks like a combination of Anton Chigur and a generic punk rocker capping himself with a Walther while Gackt jumps around on tables and acts demonically? YESYESYESYESYES)

An open letter to a generic member of society

In the past few days, I've been working hard to observe my normal schedule; namely sleep for about four hours every day, from the hours of 6:00 AM to 10:00 AM.

Now, in one of my 3:30 AM strokes of genius, I had the questionably brilliant idea of sending some Finntroll lyrics to about 30 random people, courtesy of my phone and random button pressing.

I had thought rather nothing of it until later in the day, when upon reading a questionably obtained bulletin, posted A La MySpace, I found that one of the people had somehow gotten the idea off of this that I was a creeper.

While I won't go through great lengths to disprove such theory, I do however offer the following open letter, in hopes that it indeed sheds some light on the horrendous thought crime committed under such circumstances.

While it is indeed possible to sympathize with your possible distaste for the harmonic classics of Finntroll propaganda, along with possible inconveniences created with the use of an untimely hour to deliver simple unnerving prose to a vast group of determinately unenlightened people, the way you seemingly "handled" the situation does create a general sense of unease.

We here at the very bottom; the "creepers" so to speak (in use of a term created entirely by people very much like you) take pride in the fact we have managed to claw our way to the very depths of the conventional social caste, much deeper down in the eyes of the superficial than any natural actions, appearances of unconventional lifestyles could possibly afford. We do take a certain pride in knowing that we keep the social caste in order by creating a public enemy, creating common ground on the basis of distaste, and even allowing for many a discouraged person to take solace in the knowing that they will never be as spited as certain figures. In addition to these benefits often taken for granted, such opportunities also allow for a small rise in self-esteem in the thinking of some people, who seem to think that as opposed to simply acting out of joy for causing mental turmoil and unrest, manage to disillusion themselves into thinking that such person has some form of one sided connection to them, and thus creating a circumstance much like the ones listed above.

With the sacrifice necessary to selflessly serve one's community, I feel I speak for all of us so-called "Creepers" when I say that it is indeed a discouragement to receive no gratification for one's work. A spiteful return, or possibly an attempt at rebuttal are indeed reward for one's efforts, and the intellectual chain the often follows can be considered a near necessary sacrifice for ensuring that the social caste always has someone to hate.

Therefore, it is rather unfair, cruel even, to deprive someone of an outcome. While this act on it's own is indeed rather demoralizing to all parties involved, it seems even more unjust to refer to someone by an assigned name, particularly: "Creeper". The irony that all this occurred on a mainstream social network, the social and intellectual cesspools of first-world society, continues this point. Perhaps augmenting this is the use of near Orwellian "Newspeak"; present in the form of abbreviations and attempts to replace actual conversational emotion with the use of several curt key board strokes.

Although this letter provides nothing more than a short summary of circumstance that is widely unknown and ignored, along with an emotionless chastisement for certain seemingly harmless action, I do ask that it be held in at least some regard.

With thanks
~Shinyka


PS: Please also make note that this entire letter contains less spelling and grammar errors than one of your average sentences.

FNORD

Long Awaited

Worst Update Evarrr

Plant life (and by extention, Numerous mentions of ObScure)

As the Germans say: Eine Welt ohne Betriebe ist nur so gut wie Hochschule ohne gefährliche schwarze Betriebe, die als gefährliche halluzinogenische Substanz dienen, die Veränderungen mit dem Ergebnis eines Gruppe Bestehens später verursachen kann: Ein Hacker, ein akrobatischer Skater mit einem kühlen Auto und Schrotflinte, ein Norweger, ein goth, ein PizzaLieferbote, der erlernte, wie man Verriegelungen auswählt, als er Zeit im Gefängnis, in einem Fußballspieler verbrachte, in einem videospiel gewesenen asiatischen Mädchen mit einem komischen Namen und einem blondem mit einem IQ von über 150 zusammen ausgießend, um die veränderten Gleichen zu kämpfen und später in einem Professor, der ihnen anfangs heraus hilft, indem es sie mit Spritzen und Batterien liefert, aber verrät sie später um des Bildens des Plots willen sogar weniger Binde- aber neueres Fallopfer zum Bruder des Goth Mädchens (der Fußballspieler) der unter Stadiumlichtern zerquetscht wird.

Or, for those of you who can’t read German: A world without plants is only as good as college without dangerous black plants that serve as a dangerous hallucinogenic substance that can later cause mutations resulting in a group consisting of: A hacker, an acrobatic skater with a fast car and shotgun, a Norwegian, a Goth, a pizza delivery man who learned how to pick locks when he spent time in jail, a football player, a video game obsessed Asian girl with a comical name and a blond girl with an IQ of over 150 teaming together to fight the mutated peers and later a professor who at first helps them out by supplying them with syringes and batteries but later betrays them for the sake of making the plot even less cohesive but later falls victim to the Goth girl's brother (the football player) who is crushed beneath stadium lights. (Really)

Or, for those of you who really don’t feel like hearing a poorly abbreviated survival-horror plotline: A peaceful world without plants is like a rich white child without media preference lest anything goes wrong (like a door jamming).
Or, for those of you who ignored the last paragraph because it began with the word “or” (in which case you should stop reading this, even though it is directed at you), the world needs plants to survive. Now, some of you may wonder what plants have to do with the road to making progress (or perhaps, in some extreme cases, actual success in life). My answer: Shut up.
But seriously, while attempting to live your hopefully progressing life, it is important to remember just what plants do for us. In fact, without plants, we wouldn’t have any of the following:

• Oxygen
• Cannabis addictions
• Date Rape
• About half the poisons we have today
• Some form of tourist control (In the form of people who believe that reading a brief page found on Yahoo makes them botanists and accidentally ingest Belladonna, believing it to be some form of medicinal herb)
• 2,000 people dying per day thanks to tobacco usage
• Opium addictions
• Botany
• Strange black leaves that grow on college campuses causing hallucinations and eventual mutations
• Tea
• Herbal Essence Shampoo and Conditioner (Actually, this is strictly theoretical. We would probably still have it even with a lack of any actual Herbal Essence)
• People comically slipping on banana peels (They would have to slip on something else, like say, for example: beef)
• Faust



As you might have hopefully recognized, without plants, we would lack not only something impossible to live without, but a means of breathing as well (in the form of Oxygen and Faust, in that order.) Unfortunately, most of the other things that plants give us are not so beneficial (Now before anybody says anything, only some parts of this blog are meant to be taken seriously, and this is not one of them). To make a point, I have decided to prepare a small chart, useful for identifying most of the important plants.



Now that we have all that out of the way, I bid thee adeiu until next time, as quite frankly, I'm getting sick of talking about plants

A giant ball of fire, A.K.A. The sun

Now, for those of you who don’t know (or else attend public school), the sun is a very important part of all life. It keeps us warm (Often to a rather uncomfortable extent), makes our plants grow (forcing us to mow the lawn on a frequent basis), and gives us daylight to see by (Ensuring that we never get enough sleep). However, while the sun is necessary, it is not entirely enjoyable. Remember those days where the Yuppies would run outdoors yelling things like “Take me, mister sun, make me pretty”.
As it turns out those Yuppies were wrong. The sun, as enjoyable as it is, can cause burning or worse (charring, in some unlucky cases, such as people who wear heavy metallic necklaces into the sun, or else fall asleep while lying on charcoal grills). As it would turn out, the sun does quite the opposite, (unless you consider beauty to be the “grilled lobster look”. More on this later), often making skin fry and pores to clog up, along with causing eye damage and general discomfort. Yet, avoiding the problems of the sun by no way means blacking out your house and living life like a secluded blond albino, you can go perfectly happy without having to make your hair blond. The rest of the stuff unfortunately is perfectly necessary. To help the process out, see the below checklist

□ Step one: Express your anger to the sun. This is the simple step. All you need to do is run outdoors, hold up your fist and yell “CURSE YOU SUN!” at the top of your lungs. For safety reasons, it is advised to make sure that you are alone when you do this

□ Step two: Identify how the sun’s light is entering your home. The simplest way to do this is to turn the lights off and walk around the house. Try to figure where the light is coming from. If you can’t see any then you can skip the next three steps (Or else retry this during the daytime)

□ Step three: Pour butter on top of a stack of pancakes. This way, you can enjoy a nice hearty pancake meal after you finish sun-proofing your house

□ Step four: Sun proof your house. This comes into a simple one-two punch method. First, you want to re-find the places where the sun is entering your house. Second, you want to fill these areas with roofing concrete, until the sun no longer bothers you.

□ Step five: Enjoy a pancake meal. Make sure to use plenty of maple syrup.

□ Step six: Eliminate threats to your safety. Sadly, not everybody employs the idealism conveyed in this blog. So, when accepting visitors, make sure to look out for several tell-tale signs that they might be a threat to your security

o A deep tan. This means the person has spent a lot of time in the sun. If the tan is orange, they’ve just been baking under a tanning bed. In which case, you still shouldn’t be around them.

o A long coat, a large hat, and a wooden stake. If you have people like this at your door, it means you’ve been mistaken for a vampire. It is advised to move.

o Someone with a large box. Actually, the box could contain almost anything. Still, don’t take any chances. Show them the door (But don’t actually go through it).

o An unnatural glow. Even if this glow isn’t solar, it still isn’t a good idea to have these people in your house

□ Step seven: Dress for success. Since you’ve taken effort to block the sun from your life, it helps to dress in such a way that incorporates the changes. Ideally, men would be dressed in a long black formal coat, complete with coattails, top hat and black, shaggy hair, with women garnering a long gothic dress (preferably red) with plenty of frill. Also, add formal driving gloves

□ Step eight: Always have an escape route. You may think “My defenses are perfect”, but odds are, if you actually followed any of the advice in this book, many things will be far from perfect. We recommend digging beneath your basement until you hit an aquifer, then putting an escape boat-house onto it.

A few easy steps and Viola! You now live a perfectly safe life, hiding from one of the world’s most natural things! But such is the cost of a happy, fulfilling existence. Just remember, if you are forced to go outside, for whatever reason, you should always 日本語で話しなさい.

My great idea for the television industry

As of late, it strikes me that television shows are beginning to become more and more inane. Naturally, I would respond to this problem the same way I respond to political unrest and teen pregnant people; mainly: ignore it. However, during one of my 2:30 AM brainstorming sessions, it has indeed occurred to me that I could indeed perhaps contribute somehow to noted industry. That and the fact I am finally in an inspired mood, and would hate to waste the perfectly good chance to practically vomit out sarcasm and wit onto the internet.

Without any further verbal ado, I give you my best idea of the day.

America's Next Top Jesus

The "reality" purpose of this faith-driven reality TV show would be entirely to find the next best candidate for Jesus. Naturally, this show would be divided into five month seasons with a new episode airing every Sunday, as to give the religious families something to do during the nights after they finish a long day of throwing virgins into volcanoes at church, or whatever it is they do.

The season would begin with about fifty bearded men being rounded up from suburban homes, church, rehab centers and jails. The bearded men would then be given numbers and thrown into the ocean from a fishing barge. At the end of the day, the survivors (as defined by the people who didn't drown; quite possibly because they might be able to walk on water. Or else make a raft out of the other contestants) would then be rounded up with a modified aquatic combine mower and herded into an upbeat Vegas hotel with room service and daily organ concerts, which would serve as the "home base" for the show.

Following such beginning trials, the noted men (and perhaps a women on testosterone to mix up the show a bit and provide for a really awkward public relationship) would be forced to run away from heavily armed Italians while giving rousing public speeches on top of natural inclines.

Each of the rousing religious speech would be judged by a panel of four judges, consisting of Tyra Banks, Tarja Turunen, Fidel Castro and Gregory Rasputin. At the end of each week, the judges would determine a "weakest link" who would then be dragged out into a Middle Eastern territory, stripped by a pair of comicly dressed GIMPS and stoned to death, both drug wise and rock wise.

At the end of the season, the remaining men would be put on trial in front of a court consisting of kidnapped senior citizens for a combination of high treason and parking fines which would be juried by The Ted Bundy Fan Club. Those who are not convicted get to continue on to the next part of the show, where they would be publicly beaten by any spectator willing to pay $50 for an authentic Passion of The Chirst Beatin' Stick.

Any of the contestants who did indeed survive noted event would first be closely examined to confirm that the identity of such is not Tuomas Holopainen before getting drugged and crucified during the halftime of an NFL game. Any player following halftime that knocks the cross down scores a touchdown for his team. If one of the members of the previous round was Tuomas Holopainen, he is indeed allowed to stand at the foot of the crosses and throw potatoes at the other contestants while crying.

Following crucifixion, the bodies of the contestants would be dumped into a mineshaft in New Hampshire, which would then be sealed with dynamite, and casting for the next season would then begin.

In the event that one of the contestants does indeed crawl out of the mineshaft, said person would indeed by crowned the New Messiah, before being handed over to Shagrath, who would throw Skittles at him.

My View On Attitude

It is impossible to overstate the importance of a healthy attitude. Actually, this is a lie; one could easily say "Without a healthy attitude, Brit-pop would be the only thing on MTV" or "Unhealthy attitude is the leading cause of cancer, leukemia, autism, OCD and Uwe Boll movies". Of course though, a healthy attitude is indeed important.

To save you the trouble of having to come up with your own perspectives and views on attitudes on Attitude, I've taken the liberty of writing the three major attitude varieties below. They are as follows: Optimism, Pessimism and MacGyver.

Scenario one: A glass, which only contains half capacity of water
Optimistic Response: The glass is half full
Pessimistic Response: The glass is half empty
MacGyver Response: The glass is twice as big as it needs to be

Scenario two: The loss of a left hand
Optimistic Response: At least I’m right handed!
Pessimistic Response: I’m only half as useful now!
MacGyver Response: All you need to make a new hand is some glue and toothpicks!

Scenario three: Breaking up with a loved one
Optimistic Response: It was for the best
Pessimistic Response: I’m nothing up without him/her/it
MacGyver Response: One new lover, coming right up…

Scenario four: A locked door with no key
Optimistic Response: We probably don’t need to know what’s behind it anyway
Pessimistic Response: Now another piece of the world shall remain a painful mystery
MacGyver Response: Lock picking!

Scenario five: The lights go out
Optimistic Response: I like the dark
Pessimistic Response: I hate the dark
MacGyver Response: It’s easy to make a new light bulb…

My life, or something similar

I must confess, I was born at a very early age. So early, I can't remember it too well. I do know, however that I was born in a Hell's Angel's roadside clinic, under a Colombian birth operation (My father was deported, my mother was given drugs, and the nurse did all the screaming). When I was five, my Uncle Ricardo got out of jail, and figured he would teach me how to hunt caribou. He did alright, although I suspect it was a rather unconventional way of doing so. Uncle Ricardo would stalk the caribou for a few minutes, then jump out and scream at it. While it was recoiling, he would tackle it and immediately start slamming its head in the car door and frame he carried around, while continuously asking it "Did I stutter? DID I STUTTER?".

I come to suspect that my parents were rather unorthodox as well. My bath toys were a toaster, a bug lamp and a middle aged Vietnamese man. When I went to preschool, the teacher seemed transfixed with teaching us various religious slang, and before I knew it, I was kicked out of three churches, two temples, and a rock used for meditating.

When I was 12, I entered middle school like all the other children. My parents got a divorce, as my mother claimed that "If daddy leaves the toilet seat up one more time, I gonna' pull the trigger". To this day, I don't understand what she meant. The school I attended had a man nailed to two pieces of wood in the lobby. No, it was not a Christian school. I think the man was the principal, and I'm pretty sure that having 5 pound wooden blocks for ear piercings is anything but enjoyable. Those were dark years.

High school was a little different. I had to walk 18 miles to school every day, and it was uphill both ways. Yes, the school was only a mile away, but I had to walk back and forth nine times, because times were rough then. You see, in the neighborhood I lived in, there was graffiti everywhere. On the sidewalks, the stores, the cars, even on the cops. And for those wondering how the trip was uphill both ways? The school was on the top of a rather large hill, which the house I lived in at the time was built on (It was later turned into a church, which was condemned by the city on Good Friday, and knocked down after the neighborhood kids were killed by a rapist who worked at K-Mart, who was upset that the Wal-Mart exploded, killing 19.5 people)

I didn't hit puberty until 13, where in an attempt to grow me up, my Uncle Blitzen brought me beef jerky and hot sauce. Thanks to the manliness of the foods, I aged 4 years in one night, grew a mustache, a goatee, and Afro and a uni brow. After that, the kids started looking at me in a strange way.

I joined theater in my sophomore year, where I got the lead part in the school play: Coffee And Milf. The theater teacher wrote the script himself. During the play, I was required to do a make out scene, which went relatively well on the night of the play, until it came to light that the lead actress was instead a man (Who was later arrested for unrelated reasons).

I decided to take advantage of the economic boom that was happening at the time (August 4th, 5:00 - 6:30 PM), and started my own business. I would ride around on a pink girls' bike and smash kneecaps for a nominal fee. I later had to shut down thanks to some "red tape" created when I claimed gunshot wounds as tax-deductible.

It was during this time, as I was lying in the ICU in the same Hell's Angel's roadside clinic I was born in. It was during this time that I saw an image of Hell, a religious experience that, to me, was more frightening then Tarja Turunen's solo career.

Hell for me was a simple, tile coated hallway, saturated with dentists' chairs. I was strapped to one of these chairs to the point I was immobile, with bright florescent lights shining down on my face. At first, things seemed rather not unpleasant, until I was approached by a senile lady. Said lady began wailing at me in Spanish, which quickly transitioned to French, which in turn became Kilgon. This continued all through the night until I finally woke up screaming with such intensity, the driver of the mobile clinic confused the sounds for sirens, drove into the forest, crashed the clinic, fatally mauling a bear in a Park Ranger Hat.

While I can honestly say that I cannot complete this story, as my life is not over, I can honestly say that you might expect to see an ending sometime soon, as unless somebody manages to intercept a package accidentally mailed to NBC, the Copper's won't purposefully miss for much longer.

Halloween, or whatever it's called now

I’d like to take a moment to address the topic of ever increasing dependency on Chinese imports.

That was it.

Now, I would like to take a look at our modern perceptions of Halloween. In the good old days, during the fall, you couldn’t through a communist down a singe neighborhood street without hitting mountains of Halloween gore, scary décor or children dressed up in a disturbingly macabre manner. Actually, in my old neighborhood, there was plenty of gore even during the spring and summer. At least until the local dealers got mauled by a bear nailed to Jesus.

However, in modern day, the holiday has fallen to a state of decadence. No longer do we see children walking around in homemade costumes with enough homemade (and increasingly authentic) blood and gore to place them as honorary members of the Ted Bundy Fan Club. What we do see, unfortunately, is an entire army of little children (who are apparently asexual, as they seem to multiply when given large amounts of sugar) in the generic “princess” outfit for the girls, and the “ninja” outfit for the boys, and for the hermaphrodites, the “ninja princess”, which is just as entertaining as it is disturbing.

Of course, this is understandable, as the holiday is now clearly about candy, as opposed to the good old “values” of Halloween, namely scaring Farmer Leroy to the point he’s suffering two or three heart attacks at once while he shoots at little Timmy with this .22 Winchester while attempting to run the rest of the beastly children over with a combine mower.

No, ladies and gentlemen, the holiday has degraded to a complete obsession with collecting candy. Now assuming this was done in the normal macabre manner, perhaps through a conventional creative mean of pulling the gas plugs on Farmer Leroy’s combine mower, filling his rifle with shock powder, and running into his house and consuming his sweets as he dies a horrible and painful death at the hands of children, the the Halloween might retain some of its former grace. Alas, no longer.

But no, instead the only real means of collecting candy is door to door begging, very much leading me to wonder if the holiday has any Mormon origins. Course; when all the children ask “Trick or treat?” to the obviously emotionally shot parents (Who were up to 1:00 in the morning ensuring their son/daughter has one of the only THREE Hannah Montana costumes in THE ENTIRE DAMN COUNTRY), they know they’ll get candy. It’s much easier then actually entertaining the children with some “trick”, such as giving them an increasingly hands on demonstration on how to make a condom out the stomach of a goat, complete with “ribs”.

What I would really like to see is a bunch of cheap prostitutes living in a suburban home during Halloween. Maybe the “tricks” and “treats” the children get might be a little different then what they had in mind. And maybe a bit illegal.

My take on big words

Retrospectively, possession of a substantial vocabulary entitled intellectual superiority dominating scholastically inferior individuals. Presently, superfluous terminology consequentially degrades individual eminence on the contemporary caste classification.

While demonstrations of assertiveness retain magnitude, the edifying decadence of aforementioned partaking is geometrically incremental, prompting investigation as to the relevance of demonstrated aptitude derived from said undertakings.

Conclusively, prevailing generations clearly do not hearten advancements of underrepresented intellectual minorities constituting for noted enlightened intelligence quota margins. Inhabitants in present continuum prioritize standardized and media influenced novelties.

How poignant.

Christian Metal; proof that being unholy isn't as easy as it sounds.

I'd like to take a moment to address the notably painful concept that is Christian metal. For some reason, whenever I so much as hear the phrase I cringe. Although I still have no idea why, I strongly suspect it has to deal with the paradox that is indeed adding a metal element to Christian music.

As you are probably no doubt aware, assuming you don't live under a rock, or for that matter, an Australian love dungeon, you would know the increasing beef the Christian church has with metal music. However, now that the metal industry is finally seeing its share of Christian driven music, we have to wonder what's next. I strongly suspect Christian ritualistic slaughter, Christian drug raves and Christian White Supremacy (oh, wait).

Of course, the obvious error doesn't hit me deep nearly so much as the music does. The melody is always uninspired, the vocals indifferent, and the bass notes could simply be recreated by jamming the neck of an electric guitar into a violin and whacking it with a cat for a few hours. Listening to the average song is like listening to a song by Nirvana, save for the fact that instead of any tangible rhythm, the band seems determined to break their instruments by frantically whacking them in random places. That and the fact that replacing any decent lyrics are just inaudible moaning and random snippets of officious sounding prayer.

On the subject of lyrics, I don't think it's occurred to most of these bands that adding the occasional "Praise Jesus" to the normal inane vocals of metal add absolutely no "Holy" effect to the music at all. Actually, I'm pretty sure adding the phrase "Sieg Heil" would probably argument the effect even more. Consider for example these lyrics:

You live your life as if you really didn't care. You're on a train heading straight for despair. You hate your past, the future's a joke. The only thing you want is another line of coke. Doing drugs, you feel the need to get high. One more drink. Did you ever wonder why. You say you're lonely, you wanna die. Become fed up with living a lie.

But Jesus said, "I do care". Jesus said "I'll be there."

Now, at first inspection, the first segment of above song comes across as one of the many lackluster rap songs that plague our generation these days. Of course, this is all supposed to change when the second paragraph begins, as supposedly Jesus, the metaphysical Jewish zombie who is his only father, has decided to take grace up upon the man/women. This raises a few red flags. First and foremost, Jesus is talking to the drug addict. Since none of the sober people I know have ever actually heard Jesus, this calls the legitimacy of said promise into question. Yes, Jesus is talking to the drug addict, but I have the feeling the next time he shoots up, Jesus will be replaced by a talking pink bear nailed to Harrison Ford.

Also, said lyrics suggest the drug addiction that the drug addiction the addressed is a lie. Call me crazy, but I'm sure doing drugs doesn't even hold a candle into telepathically attempting to address a giant, flying, invisible man who can blow things up with his mind.

And finally, what would converting to Christianity even do to stop said addiction? Logic forces me to assume that if a drug addict saw a toga-clad, glowing bearded man promising him eternal dedication, it wouldn't exactly promote feelings of sobriety.

All in all, Christian Metal is yet another failed attempt by the church at kicking ass but still holding true to the lord. I'd like to draw a contrast to yet another time the Church attempted this, which resulted in them marching over the east attempting to steal a holy land back from the "Infidels" (who were so called so because they wore jerseys with the word "Infidels" written across the front in technicolor, followed by a number and picture of Genghis Kahn partaking in underwater basket weaving). Of course, the Church felt the compulsion to do so in metal armor, and sometimes made it a whole five miles into the desert before dying of heatstroke. The Christians eventually stole back the holy land, but unfortunately only a small enough amount to fill a shoebox (leading people to wonder why extravagantly clad men were carrying around a box full of dirt), and took to burning at stake just about anybody who tried to mention it at dinner parties from then on.

In conclusion I'm going to offer Christian Metal the same advice I offer Pop music, namely "Sound good or shut up". Of course, as much as I would like to convince myself that this could happen, the odds of it are about as likely as me developing a personality.

Pollution

Among many of the other things in the outside world, it is impossible to forget pollution (Actually, it seems to be very feasible. The Republicans do it all the time). This is because of the pure extremity of pollution itself. It has been shown to be able to turn over entire busses, puncture even steel, and easily crush one of the members of the Green Bay Packers. Or maybe that’s Rhinoceroses? Whatever.

Anyways, my point is: pollution is not to be taken lightly. I ask you: Do you seriously want your children to live in a polluted world after you pass away? Personally, I say no for two reasons:

1. I don’t plan on having children
2. I don’t really care about what happens after I die, as I will be, in a manner of speaking, dead

Yet, as you may have figured out from reading previous works, it is ill-advised to take advice from me, to say the least. So instead, don’t just take my word for how serious this is.

It is commonly known that acid rain; a dangerous result of acidity levels in lakes and rivers increasing due to carbon dioxide exposure is growing more and more common. In a recent event, a large scale outburst of said dangerous rain recently fell right on the outskirts of Dammington, New Mexico. Because of the large scale of soil corrosion, trees were unable to grow in said area, which not only destroyed the town’s firewood stocks, but also forced the resident beavers to emigrate, and find a safer place to live. The result of such was the local dam, which had been keeping Lake Biggs full, eventually corroded without the aid of resident beavers to reinforce it. The result was the water in the lake draining, and leaving the town without water. As a result, the townspeople soon found themselves without fresh water. Venturing up the lake, a shocking discovery was made.

Resting inside the riverbed of Lake Biggs was a large metallic object, very similar to the “Weather Balloon” that had crashed in Roswell just years ago. The shocks of such a discovery lead the people to embrace the idea of life in outer space. Because of this, the town spent the next few months building a giant satellite dish, which was supposedly built for communicating with aliens.

While all this was happening, a Chinese aircraft that had gone terribly off course happened to pass over this small town, greatly shocking the airline pilot who later reported the large object to the Chinese defense office. The Chinese soon became afraid that the US would soon declare war on them, with this new seeming weapon, and immediately proceeded to create a secret weapon of their own: A worm capable of deleting all the porn on the internet. This angered The Netherlands, who would suffer an inevitable economic collapse if said worm ever was released. The Netherlands proceeded to draft an economic degree for the Geneva Convention that would ideally push human rights into effects, this preventing China from continuing its sweat-shop run economy.

In anger, China released the bug, causing the inevitable collapse of The Netherland’s economy. The Netherlands asked England for help, which immediately tried its failsafe solution for almost every problem: Declare War on Germany. Germany, in retaliation, asked Russia for assistance, which attacked Greece, who attacked Belgium, who attacked Italy, who attempted to garrison troops in Luxemburg. Unfortunately, right after crossing the border, the Italian truck broke down, leaving the troops stranded in an unforgiving land full of moonshine factories and topless bars. Luxemburg addressed the threat by sending out their “Army of one” (Seriously, his name’s Pierre) out to Ireland, who immediately declared religious war on Scotland.

Scotland called in the aid of Spain, who attempted to seize control of Portugal. Portugal quickly countered by throwing rocks at Nickelback. In all the confusion, France Declared War on itself (and lost).

Naturally, after a few days of all this, most of the sides had forgot their standing, and immediately proceeded to sign The Treaty of France XXIV. Of course, the American news was too busy doing a report on a rich, blond, white girl who had been kidnapped by a senior, unarmed, hippy and held within 100 feet of her home. Later, she was found walking around with him in disguise and using a fake accent (Really).

The Major Religions in a nutshell

Now, before I have a bunch of dedicated religious fanatics and families from Kansas and Iowa showing up at my doorstep in the wee hours of the morning and throwing bibles at me in an attempt to “prevent” anything bad from happening to me (Such as me being thrown into a large, somehow metaphysical lake of fire incapable of causing anything more than extreme pain), I would like to note that I am in no way attacking any religions of religious groups. I am merely presenting a single, unbiased viewpoint on the various religions, in the hope that people will have enough intelligence to choose their own. So, as noted, primary religions are as follows:

Atheism: One of the more simple beliefs. Nothing special happened, and nothing special ever will. For some unexplained reason, people with this religion seem to have a fair amount of extra time on their hands.

Christianity: The simple belief that a cosmic Jewish zombie who was his own father was nailed to a few pieces of wood so he would enter a giant metaphysical area somewhere in the sky, so he can make you immortal provided you symbolically eat his flesh and blood along with talking to him telepathically and tell him you want him to be your master so he can remove from you a sin that is present in humanity thanks to a Rib-Woman being convinced by a talking snake to eat fruit from a magical tree. Yeah, it makes perfect sense.

Judaism: The belief that a bearded herder was talked to by a giant, flying, invisible man via a piece of inflamed forage, which told him to liberate then entire workforce of Egypt which eventually happened via the use of metaphysical weapons of mass destruction. After freeing the people, he climbed to the top of a mountain where he, alone, received a list from said flying invisible man on ten things that he and his people were never to do, or else he would roast them. And nothing bad ever happened to the Jews again.

Pagan: Now, before I start to explain this one, let me make one thing clear. Pagan is not a form of witchcraft or Satan worshiping cult (See Satanist). Pagan is, as a matter of fact, a bunch of primarily fun loving people who believe in balance through nature, and often respect the gods through offering, such as wine or food. Also, please note that pentacles (The five pointed stars you buy at Hot Topic) are not Pagan symbols. Pentacles are the sign of the Illuminati, a religious group based in Europe, who was later wiped out by the Catholic Church (As much as I would love to go into this, there is already a good book about it. I would recommend reading it, that is, after you finish reading this one).

Scientologist: The belief that an alien king named Xenu (who ruled over a giant galactic empire) one day decided that his galaxy was overpopulated, and thus had the inhabitants of it frozen, and transported to Earth in spaceships that look exactly like Douglas DC-8’s (plus rocket engines), and dropped in the fires of a few volcanoes in Hawaii. The aliens all melted, resulting in their souls flying up, where Xenu caught them with a giant machine, and brainwashed them to believe false theology and thus making them very miserable. The souls flew around aimlessly until they finally inhabited a pack of Neanderthals, who evolved into humans, who are now miserable because of said souls. Please note that this religion was founded by a science-fiction writer who thought all of this up while under the knife (it is shown that the anesthesia used can cause rather odd dreams, much like the one Hubbard, the founder, had while he “discovered the universal truth”) Also, please note that the only way to advance in this religion, is to donate money to it. Thank you.

Satanist: A religion founded when a whole bunch of people got together and realized they hated Christianity enough to found a counter-religion, but didn’t have enough originality to create a brand new god. So instead, they opted to use the “Bad guy” of the Christian faith (Satan/the Devil/people who aren’t Christian), and opted to spread such influence by having bots post about it on YouTube consistently, much to the annoyance of the people trying to watch Korn Videos. Please note that the current High Priestess is a 40-something year old accountant who lives in New York City (no joke).

Alchemist: A religion founded when a bunch of Full Metal Alchemist fans got together and decided to found a religion based off of a Fantasy/Sci-Fi Manga. Members of said religion tend to be always single, over 250 pounds, and proficient in writing fan fiction. Enough said.

Pastafarian: The classic, fun-loving people who believe that the world was created by a flying spaghetti monster justly named: The Flying Spaghetti Monster. That aside, said religion sees Pirates as sacred emissaries to said monster’s words, and Fridays as holy holidays. Of course, no description would be complete without a mention of the Pastafarian heaven, which happens to contain both a volcano that spews forth beer and a factory which produces strippers. This particular religion is very popular among college students and little children.

Hinduism: A belief that the gods (The same ones who made it unholy to eat beef) control almost every imaginable matter. Also, when you die, depending on what you did during your life, you may get reborn as an infernal animal (Which is apparently a punishment).

Buddhist: The simple, honest religion for people who figure that the less they have, the happier they will be, much to the distaste of the people who control the capitalist market. They focus on reward through self discipline (and not in a sense of “Hey, I didn’t eat this slice of cake, so instead I’m going to have two cupcakes!”). These people also tend to find themselves with a lot of extra time.

Hitmen, and lack of them

Alright ladies and gentlemen, have you ever been talking to someone and they can't help but say something like "OMG, IM A HITMAN, LOLZ"? Doesn't it make you just want to stab something? Or for that matter, strangle something? Or use a lot of theoretical questions?

Now, this wouldn't be an issue at all is these people had ever held a length of garroting wire, or carry a silenced P99 with them. Hell, I would even settle for someone carrying around a Butterfly or WASP knife, so long as they did so in a really smarmy fashion. Sadly, doing the occasional lackluster stunt and threatening to kill someone after they steal some of your food does not make you a Hitman.

Another thing. A Hitman is a highly professional (Most of the time) and skilled assassin who's entire job relies on secrecy and staying anonymous. Riddle me this: Why would someone who preforms professional and hard to track killing for a living announce his/her occupation, much less on a MySpace profile? It's like driving a big white van with the words "Dead Bodies Inside" around a heavily policed area just for the fun of it. Come to think of that, I'm going to try that sometime, while wearing a purple tuxedo. Look for me on dateline.

Buy some Kevlar padded suits and a Denel NTW-20 in a padded briefcase. Strangle someone to death in a elevator and hide the body in a roof. Then call yourself a hitman. Otherwise, shut up.