Argh!

I found myself in a precarious position last night, as I sat on the fold-out sofa watching Aliens with a (finally) calibrated TV. That position is was one of having nothing to post today, despite having the weekend to mull it over AND Friday (where I missed the first post of my new regime, oh my. I promise that as soon as I can get my geekling allies over for a geekfest I will gladly germinate a post full of grist [Alliteration Attack!]).

So, while looking at sheet music and watching Scuzz on mute (just for the sake of it) I came across some inspiration.

That inspiration came in the form of Ville Valo, frontman of the band HIM. If you do not know of HIM, be thankful. If you wish to find out more about HIM because you want to join in the collective burst of diarrhea that is their fanbase, leave my blog right now. Go on. Don't keep on reading. You don't deserve it. Go! Leave! Or I'll do something rash, like climb through your computer screen and bludgeon you with a CD rack full of GOOD music.

In case you live in Bizarro land or have a rosy view of the world, I dislike HIM. The music is bland and boring, and the melodies monotonous and clichéd. More importantly, however, I dislike HIM fans. The screaming, seething masses of prepubescent girls and (most depressingly) pubescent boys who are obsessed with Bam Magera and skating and think that by loving Ville Valo (who is a communist drinking buddy of Magera's or something) they can make themselves more like the redneck, stupid meatbag that is Bam Magera himself.

Now, let us speak of the HIM video that sparked this outburst of hate and contempt. I am going by the timings on the YouTube version of the video, and am mocking parts for which mockery comes easily (as I am bloody tired).

H.I.M. - Kiss of Dawn (also known as "raping your ears with a carrot covered in steel wool")

A 'mysterious tome' with HIM's 'logo' on it appears, meant to signify some sort of depth to this shallow, marketed song and because Ville always wanted a bitchin' cool book to write about that girl that kicked him in the nads and ran away when he raped her rabbit and showed her the organs. Or something. It opens to show spooky moving pictures (not that it's been done before in every other modern metal 'ballad' or anything. No siree.) and then, for reasons unknown, cuts to Ville Valo sitting ON A THRONE reading a book in a castle with fancy candles everywhere.

...

Okay. Time out. This is getting bloody weird. Ville Valo. A chainsmoking, hard drinking lunatic. Reading an actual book on a bloody huge throne. Does this strike you as odd? To me, it does. Because in real life, he's too bloody hammered to even hold a book open the right way.

Bloody hell, I'm bored with this thread of thought. As I write this, the new Aiden video has come on Scuzz. I'm not even going to go there. Seriously. Just. Say. No. To Gay Vampires. And huge bodybuilders having strange relationships with little ballerinas. And flower-huffing. AND SCARY TRANSVESTITES.




I am continuing my thread of shamelessly ripping off the styles of people I admire by copying Ben "Yahtzee" Croshaw from Fully Ramblomatic.com. He enjoys derision and satire and has taken to making extremely funny videos about games.


Sraen out, angrily.