Faster and Louder part 2

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Everyone knows that all music is better played faster and louder.  It’s a fact.  Wired into our genes, just like anything in life is better on television, as those of you that have, against my advice, gone to Brazil to watch World Cup Soccer in person have also found out.  Should have just stayed at home in the comfort of your own little cabin and watched on your 72 inch Samsung.  Everything is better on television.  Period.  You wouldn’t have had your purse snatched in Rio either.

And every kind of music is better when played faster and louder.  Period.  The unhallowed premier purveyors of this self-evident fact is the band Me First and the Gimme Gimmes.  These boys have been bangin’ it out for years unrecognized and shunned by the larger media.  It is almost as if there was a conspiracy against this getting out.

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Album after album, genre after genre, put through the buzzsaw of distorted guitars and frantic backbeats proving each and every time the song would have been better if played this way.  Why hasn’t this caught on?  Why haven’t Christina Aguilera and Barbara Streisand championed the cause of chainsaw guitars and frantic paced power chords in pop music?  The media.  Once again it’s a media conspiracy back-fueled by the music industry and ultimately the entire entertainment industrial complex to promote stars that are on top one day and then cast aside for another unknown under the music industry shackles tomorrow.  If you and I were in charge none of this would be allowed to stand.

I could go on and on about this, and I will at some future time, but right now let’s get back in the trenches and talk about those that are trying to bring the truth back to the people.

Me First & the Gimmie Gimmies

The Me Firsts.  Starting way back in 1995 these boys have been putting out themed albums of various genres and styles, everything from Broadway musicals to R&B to C&W.  Every single cut has been better than the original:  buzzsaw chords and a frantic pace.  Every once in awhile they sneak in an old punk riff just to prove that even these songs were better than all of the top 40 “songs” today.  Once you’ve heard “The Way We Were” you’ll wonder why Barbara Streisand never sported a black leather jacket and a pink mohawk.

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Not much more to say.  The music industry and media conspiracy are too powerful to ever be threatened and changed unless you want to end up taking the dirt nap, or at least your dog will.  Sadly Justin Timberlake and Katy Perry are never going to “kick out the jams.”

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Clubbing

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What’s the deal with warehouse clubs?  You know, places like Sam’s Club and CostCo.  They charge you $40 – $70 for the privilege of shopping in their dreary warehouse.  Why do they charge you for going in their crummy store?  I know, because they can, but really why do all these suckers line up to pay an entry fee to a store?

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I’ve looked around and the prices at Sam’s aren’t enough different from WalMart to make a real difference except in rare cases.  Plus you have to buy a skid-load or five gallons of mayonnaise at Sam’s to get the deal.  In addition, there is almost zero choice.  That one brand of mayonnaise is the one you’re buying.  At WalMart you at least have a few choices.

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CostCo pretends to be more upscale.  They have more brand-y stuff and the aircraft hangar looks a little nicer.  Plus there aren’t as many ethnics shopping there, if you know what I mean.  However, they charge more and you actually pay more than Sam’s and WalMart for stuff.  They claim to have exclusive stuff, but it’s only exclusive from not being at Sam’s or WalMart or Target.  They charge you more for being in their “club.”

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So what’s the deal with “club?”  It’s not like a real club where you go to meet people with like interests (except for being cheap).  Clubs used to be exclusive places where people went to get away from their spouses or children or to mix with toni friends or talk about postage stamps.  You could brag about your membership in certain exclusive clubs; you had to be voted into the club.  Here you just have to fork over the jack.  You have to wave that stupid card, like if they sold anything to a non-member it would break the corporation or some secret pact.  Who goes around showing other people their Sam’s or CostCo card?  “Look, I got into Sam’s Club.”  Nobody does that.  Maybe the manufacturers are afraid that regular people will find out they can get a deal on a five-gallon pail of ketchup.  You have to keep the price a secret to non-members.  I don’t get it.  Why isn’t it just the Sam’s store, no entry fee?

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Bridge Club

The shopping experience, even at Sam’s, is actually a step up from the dreary WalMart.  I guess ’cause the ceilings are higher and the floors are cleaner.  I suppose it’s that entry fee that does it.

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Philatelic Club

 

You can eat at Sam’s.  A big Nathan’s Famous hot dog and an endlessly refillable drink is only $1.50.  Homeless people should come there and live at Sam’s.  The $40 up front keeps them out though.  A big charity should donate the $40 each for a bunch of poor people and then let them hang at Sam’s; camp in the airport-sized parking lot that is never more than half full.  Then it wouldn’t be such an exclusive “club” for people anymore.

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Pill Pushers

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The pharmaceutical industry has to be the most screwed up corporate oligarchy in the world.  It makes, finance, politics, used car sales, medicine, law, weapons manufacturing, and pimping look like honored professions.  When I get finished with this expose you will want to wash your hands and down a litre of Robitussin every time you pass a Walgreens.  So what’s wrong with the drug industry?  A better question might be:  is there anything right with it?

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Let’s get one thing straight from the start, the pharmaceutical industry has nothing to do with making the world a better place.  I’ll prove this.  I’m givin’ ya the straight dope here.  Sure people will tell you they want to go to pharmacology school because they want to rid the world of disease, or at least make a difference.  Right, and my grandma is gonna win American Idol.  Don’t believe it.  99% of the people that go into pharma do it for the money and the so-called “side benefits.”  That’s it.  Get rich, get high.  Who can blame ’em?  Given the opportunity all of us just want some bling and buzz.  If you’re intelligent and rich you go to pharmacy college, if you’re poor or simple, you become a gang bangin’ drug dealer, and I’ll show you how there is about maybe, just maybe, only one degree of separation between the two.

Lobby Dollars 98-2012_0The base reason that the pharmaceutical industry is out to screw you is the US does not, despite your friendly Tea Party candidate, have a socialized healthcare system and the government by law (I wonder how that came about?) cannot negotiate the price of prescription drugs on your behalf.  Only insurers can and we know how much they care about you.  In addition the FDA, by law again, does not allow the importation of prescription drugs from other countries where these governments do negotiate the price of drugs.  These laws are all ostensibly to “protect you” but when was the last time a Washington pill pusher lobbyist had your best interest in mind?

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Now that we have that out of the way, what sort of economic skewing does this cause?  Well here is where I give you the inside story:  the pill pushers are not out to get you well, they are out to make you a junkie.  Here’s the deal, say I spend a lot of money to come up with a vaccine for cancer.  Every pharmaceutical company wants to invent that, right?  Wrong, my simple one.  If I come up with a vaccine I give you one maybe two shots and it’s bye, bye.  But if I can come up with a less effective long term chemotherapy for the same cancer, guess what, you’re a chemo junkie now.  I have you on the hook for months or years.  You’re “takin’ this junk against your will” as Bo Diddley said.

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Hence, all the adverts for long term, continuous therapies and drugs on the television.  Nobody in the pharma industry wants “one and  done,” so nobody researches “one and done.”  In addition now they are allowed, by law, to jack you like the meth dealer on the corner.  Over and over again.  Nobody wants a single pill to cure rheumatoid arthritis, that’s just crazy thinkin’.  If the government could take the usurious profit motive out of these schemes, well people just might research something more effective and useful.  I’m not saying pharmaceutical companies shouldn’t make money, I’m saying right now they are making too much money.  And the insurers too.

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Surely all these scientists aren’t out for just the mercenary aspects of these things.  First, they are.  Nobody gets rich on single dose cures, period.  You might get famous, but not rich, so forget that.  Things that address Third World health issues are out too since those folks don’t have any money.  Forget that.  Lastly, shareholders and hedge fund managers don’t care whether you live or die except if you muddle on somehow you keep paying (or your insurer who is gouging you with premiums) for the junk.

Is everyone feeling a little better now?

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Next time you are at the doctor’s office and you see one of those nicely dressed types pull up in a Lexus and walk straight into the back room, remember they are just the same as the dealer selling rock down on the corner.  There’s your degree of separation.

Shoot it up

Bring May Flowers…

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Well, Walpurgisnacht went pretty well this year:  sixty children in, thirty seven out.  Not great, but okay.  You can’t compare the US to the Old Country.

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Today is May Day for all you doomed atheist communists (get it while you can!) and ironically All Saints Day for the blessed.  Fancy that.

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Still working on that pharma expose but I’ve got to keep a low profile since I’ve been targeted by the big prescription drug cartel.

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I fingered a drunk driver today.  I used to drink so it’s fun to get a little revenge for the bitterness of quitting.  I’m such a nice guy.

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facebook is dead.  Yep, you heard it here first.  facebook is so uncool.  It’s your grandma’s social network.  facebook is trading recipes and gifs of Grumpy Cat.  How cool is that?  Cool as a Harley, right?  You have to get out of your walker or wheelchair to get on one and then ride to a KISS concert.  Maybe your live-in nurse can get you on it.  facebook is the conversion van of social networks, complete with handicapped plates.

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The Essence of Cool

I’m not sure where all the cool people went.  It wasn’t back to MySpace.  SoundCloud seems pretty upscale.  Maybe Pinterest.  Probably tumblr.

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twitter seems to have hung in there.  I think all the cool people went over there.  So if you want to be cool get on over to twitter where the 4 billion cool people are.  Be on the cutting edge and tweet your every fart.  You know that hash-tag thing we used to call a pound sign.  That’s where it’s at.  This year’s model, anyway.

 

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Hang in There

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I’m preparing an expose that is going to uncover the rotting corpse that is the pharmaceutical industry.  This is going to take some time so be patient, and try not to be a patient (and try not to self-medicate).  If you can hang in there, and if you don’t overdose in the meantime, you won’t be disappointed

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IPA My Ass

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Pretty cool, two April Fool’s jokes on the same blog?  Woot helped me out, but I did most of the heavy lifting.  You saps went for it hook, line, and, sinker!  All around the world even!  Did that make my day, or what?  I told you I’m putting in 110% for you and there you are, proof positive.  Your dreary world got that much brighter because I put down the US government spies in a daft way and slipped (pun intended!) that Rhonda Shear bra thing in as well.  Wasn’t that a hoot?  I even thought about buying one myself just to show Woot my appreciation, but I’m not that dumb or wealthy.

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No May Day posts though.  It’s a communist pagan holiday like Labor Day.  We don’t go for that here.  Communism is like an enforced D minus effort and Liberty is what we are about; even if everyone would be better off in a D minus world.  If you are stupid enough to not follow my easy, I mean easy, like no effort at all, life principles, well that’s your problem and I’ll defend your right to choose that desperate way of life all the way to the point where I have to use you as a human shield to defend that principle.  Like I’ve said before, I’ve got your back even if you choose to be a human sandbag for me.

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Whoa, steady in the boat there boy.  I got a little worked up.  Someday I’ll tell you why communism is the only thing worse than rampant capitalism as a world system (I know one is economic and the other is political, I’m not a ‘tard).  Some other day when you are ready for it.  Not now.  All things in good time.

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Okay here is another heads up and on-target essay so pay attention, no napping. The swill we used to call Malt Liquor is now referred to as Ale.  Yeah, the high alcohol content brew that was for low-down drinking is now being foisted off on the public under designer and “craft” brew labels as India Pale Ale.  Now I don’t drink anymore ’cause it interferes with my ability to try to make your life better, but I used to drink, a lot, and you can make of that what you want but right now today it makes me better than a swill-head like you so listen up.

When I used to buy a case of Mickey’s in college people gave me a hard time.  They said I was going downscale ethnically.  Being a man who ignored the bigot, I bought it anyway, better buzz, better value.

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Well some bootleggers keen on evading government taxes got the bright idea if they could convince lawmakers to waive the tax on “amateur” brewing for “home” use it would be a good idea, for them.  No doubt some grease was applied.  ‘Nuff said.

Then these so-called home brewers wanted to share some of their 20 proof bathtub jack with their “friends,” and maybe serve some ribs on the side, so voila, the brewpub was born, again tax free with a little more lubricant applied. Now these clever entrepreneurs figured if they could convince the gullible, ie you, that this brew pub thing was upscale, then they could pick 5 bucks off you for a glass of their hooch.  They quit calling it just beer and created the craft lager and ale market.

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From there it was just a matter of scaling things up and signing up more rubes (with some more grease, of course) to buy their dishwater basement brau in the supermarket or gas station.  All that for what we used to call cheap malt liquor. The stuff is nasty, bitter and sweet flavored at the same time.  Then they started throwing apples, blueberries, oranges, and similar adulterants in to get the ladies onboard.  Chumps and snobs.

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Now you can’t get a Budweiser in a bar for all the taps that are dedicated to these and other “imported” (from Canada) bathtub gray water beverages. Well, you can just drink this overpriced crap with dead rats in it if you want.  If I want a malt liquor, I’m getting a Mickey’s or a Cobra, something that burns going down, not something that gives you a sinus headache and makes my breath smell like Chanel No. 5.  Go for it, it’s not my money.

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I’m working up a Wiccan article for Walpurgisnacht, April 30, so just be patient, and if I don’t give you one, well if you are following this blog you are also used to being disappointed, and you expected as much, so it can’t get any worse now, can it? Have a Nice Day!  Go pop one for me.

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