This post involves lots of horrific language. Listers who have not had a
tetnus shot recently are advised to delete now.
--
In the kitchen at my night job, it's usually speed metal on the CD player.
Tonight, when no one was around, I put the radio on an FM station doing a
retrospective on the blues-oriented Fleetwood Mac, pre-Buckingham & Nicks.
While I was emptying the garbage, one of the youngsters entered the kitchen
and said, "What the f*ck is this f-*king shit? Who the f*ck put this
f*cking, f*cked-up sh*t on? What the f*ck?"
I guess he wanted something polysyllablic instead of the blues, so he put
on a CD that featured the word "m*therf*cker" and "n*gger" four times in
the first sentence and involved screaming hysteria, and threats for 4
minutes.
The next song was much, much gentler. A woman began singing an actual
melody over the top of a gentle, hypnotic rhythmn, and I felt myself giving
this CD a second chance. So I tuned into her lyric, which was,
approximately,
"Your mommy ain't sh*t.
Your daddy ain't sh*t.
Your brother ain't sh*t.
Your sister ain't sh*t.
Your dick ain't sh*t." <Looped, of course>
This is fun? This is a reason to go to the mall and spend money? Can
someone help me with this?
Harrumph! In my day, we knew what a good lyric was. To wit:
"Louie, Louie, Louie, Louieeee.
Louie, Louie, Louie, Lou-ahhhh."
Ahhh. My humanity is creeping back. How do rap fans drive on the freeway?
How do rap fans make a purchase? How do they treat their pets?
Their lovers? Their parents?
Lama
