Friday, May 12, 2006

- the Relapse E-Store can suck my fat one for cancelling both my Cretin and Misery Index pre-orders. maybe they need the money to buy up underground bands that had promise but now will have the soul sucked out of them until they're bitter and jaded. fuck you. fuck the End. fuck Burst. you're gay.

- caught Pantera: Behind the Music last night. didn't learn anything new. ended on a pretty sour note, due to the whole "Dimebag getting shot in the face for no reason in front of his brother, friends, and fans" thing. as usual with BTM, they briefly touch on the creative processes and y'know, MUSIC of the band before spending most of the time on all the fueding and misery, which apparently was all due to mr. weekend underground Phil Anselmo and his myriad of problems, some of which are drug related, but most of them are drug related, and the rest are drug related, due to the drugs that are related to his drug related drug problems, which are drug related to drugs. Anselmo is still the undisputed king of all sleepy eyed phony tough mongoloid heroin addicts...oh no wait that's meds for his back pain that's keeping his eyes closed and speech slowed down to a Stephen O'Malley diarhea-stream-of-sound crawl (roll eyes). still, they were a little hard on the poor idiot. i realize what happend to Dimebag was horrible and random, and i know you need some kind of scapegoat, and i realize Anselmo is such an easy target for that, but it's not Anselmo's fault some Private Pile Numb Nutted Jarhead mother fucker got all stupid with the crazy and shot the guy in the head. i know he left those guys hanging for a year while working on half-ass crossover, stoner rock, and black metal projects in an attempt to retain underground cred that he never had in the first place, but c'mon. i'm sure Anselmo feels shitty enough without the death of a former band-mate hanging over his head. they're forty years old now. stop acting like gay teenagers and be civil. this shit doesn't matter. i did have to laugh when he would try desperatley to play the whole "Stronger than All" card, especially when the guy can barely keep his eyes open anymore or speak at a regular rate or hold his head up with the same bravado he once pheigned with some conviction. spending the last 10 years rotting away in some pissed off little universe insulated with misdirected anger, pill popper self loathing, and a black metal score will do that to you i guess. you can tell he wants out. i wouldn't be shocked if he turned up dead sooner than later.