I’m full of hate, me. I might seem quite cheery and amenable in person, but beneath the surface boils a black and hissing swamp of purest vitriol. If love and hate are two sides of the same coin, then someone slipped me one of those joke coins with two identical sides. Only I don’t get to play practical jokes with it, or con people out of their cash. No, I get to mistake it for a chocolate coin and I choke on it every day, relentlessly, until my throat is bleeding and my eyes are sticking out on stalks like a rubbish alien from some crappy sci-fi movie that I really, really despise because 90 per cent of everything that comes out of Hollywood is vapid, insulting and designed to make me REALLY FUCKING ANGRY. Fuck you and ironic ooh-isn’t-Arnie-brilliant post-modern behaviour. No, he isn’t. He’s a shit actor and a shit politician. Apart from the first Terminator film, he’s a massive bag of dick. Die in pain. And don’t pull a funny face and say ‘Get to the choppaaaaaah!’ unless you want me to club you to death. You and Arnocorps and that bloke from As I Lay Dying can all eat a bowl of hot wank and drown in your own screams. And don’t get me started on The Lost Boys. AAAARRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!
So, yeah. I’m full of hate. And nothing gets me going more than people who spoil music – and metal in particular, naturally enough – for me. Why you can’t all just shut the fuck up and let me enjoy myself in peace? No, you can’t, can you? You have to bother me with your "opinions" and your illiteracy and your utter lack of humour and intelligence and joy.
But I’m an equal opportunities hater. I don’t want anyone to miss out and I don’t want anyone to be wrongly forced into the wrong subset of my Venn diagram of hatred. So here’s a list of the main culprits; a little guide, if you will, to the people that are going to get smashed with hammers when I eventually get round to taking over the world. Oh yeah. You better be ready to grovel, fuckface.
Yeah, I know. I was a teenager once. I bet I was incredibly fucking annoying too. I had a rubbish haircut and appalling dress sense – no change there, then, you say? Fuck you! – and probably thought I was hilarious, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, and far smarter than I actually was. But even in my worst moments, when I was little more than big gob, a baggy t-shirt and an irritatingly obstinate erection, I was never anywhere near as vacuous, tedious and insulting as the bumbling fuckwits that pass for teenagers these days. What’s wrong with these people? They can’t speak properly, they certainly can’t write their own language to any meaningful degree and, worst of all, they don’t have any interest in anything other than themselves. Political views (crass or otherwise)? Forget it. Insightful judgements on music/art/cinema/telly/culture in general? Get to fuck. An unhealthy interest in becoming “famous”, preferably after getting a degree in media studies at some god-awful former polytechnic? Ooh, yes please!! And do you think you could be unbearably smug and vain at the same time? Awesome. Thanks ever so much. And don’t forget to have a stupid-looking mobile phone, ugly trainers and a totally pointless and self-defeating "attitude" that makes you look, sound and smell five years younger than you are. You wouldn’t be anywhere near as awesome without that. You dreadful waste of skin and oxygen.
And yeah, I know this makes me sound like a moaning old cunt. That’s because I am a moaning old cunt. Your parents were right. Young people today know fuck all. Let’s kill them all and start again. Apart from my kids, obviously. Touch them and I’ll stab you.
PEOPLE ON THE INTERNET
Who invented the internet? Was it Al Gore? I don’t suppose it matters. They’re going to Hell anyway. Or at least they would if it existed. Sometimes being an atheist can be really depressing. But compared to spending five minutes on an internet forum, a crushing sense of existential despair is like a walk in the park followed by a strenuous wank in a bath full of cash and tits. It’s not just that the internet has enabled every dim-witted arsebag on the planet to have a “voice” – these blogs are brilliant, aren’t they? Really rewarding…and free too! – thus cluttering up cyberspace and MY EYEBALLS with an endless stream of intellectually crippled diarrhoea…it’s also the fact that the vast majority of those people think it’s also absolutely fine to form a huge, global community dedicated solely to winding me up and making me want to commit acts of genocide while jabbing myself in the eye with a biro. If I were to list all the things about internet waffle that annoy me, I’d be here all day and so would you. Except you’d probably be too busy LAUGHING OUT LOUD. Yeah, that’s right, the world is stuffed to the clagnuts with people laughing out loud in front of their monitors. Bellowing their faces off, most of them. It’s deafening. I really wish I could be there to witness it first hand because, at the risk of sounding a little bit cynical, I’m not entirely convinced that anyone is actually laughing at all, out loud or otherwise. I don’t mind people typing ‘lol’ if it’s done with irony. Like voting for the Liberal Democrats or drinking Dr. Pepper, it’s all in good fun and no one goes to prison. But if you’re a grown man or woman and you have EVER typed ‘lol’ or ‘rofl’ or, Christ preserve us, ‘lmao’ in any context other than as a joke or as a parting display of defiance on your own death warrant then you are personally and directly responsible for my blood pressure being “slightly high” and I will now dedicate my life to ensuring that you never get to take a shit at your leisure again. I will install an alarm system in your bathroom if necessary. You’ll be halfway through and BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP. HAHAHAHAHA!!!! Shittus interruptus!!! LAUGH OUT FUCKING LOUD!!!
Of course, I could be overreacting.
Another thing about the internet that makes me want to kill you is the way it allows people to pretend that they don’t like or enjoy anything. It’s not “cool” to be passionate or enthusiastic about music anymore. In fact, any kind of outward display of excitement inspired by a new band or a new album or even A-Ha’s ‘Manhattan Skyline’ (which is bitching, by the way) is nearly always greeted by online twits and real life dickheads alike with a look of utter contempt. The reason? Again, the world is full of idiots and idiots, bless their shrivelled souls, consistently confuse passion with naivety and think that the only way to maintain a façade of intellectual fortitude is to sigh witheringly and pretend that nothing, no matter how self-evidently awesome it might (subjectively) be, is anywhere near as good as the stuff that they used to like…you know, “back in the day”. I also hate the phrase “back in the day”. You’re 25. There is no “day”. Throw yourself in front of a train. Thanks.
Cynicism is dull. There’s nothing wrong with a bit of healthy scepticism, particularly when it comes to politics, religion or those pathetic numpties that think that man has never actually been to the moon – Look at the shadows! They’re all wrong!! No, YOU’RE all wrong! HAHAHAHA! – but cynicism…joyless and relentlessly non-creative sneering at everything, just for the sheer brain-flattening hell of it…is dull, dull, dull. Jumping to the moronic conclusion that every band on the planet is desperate to make millions of dollars by deliberately making awful music, primarily to offend your delicate sensibilities, might make for a few chuckles when you and your dismal friends are congratulating each other on how much more awesome you are compared to, you know, “ordinary” folk, but it’s not actually necessary. Or helpful. Or worthwhile. Or anything other than the behaviour of an utter shitcunt. Why not just listen to what you like and let other people do the same? I can’t bear
PEOPLE WHO DON’T LIKE MUSIC
It doesn’t happen very often, but occasionally I meet people who “aren’t really into music that much”. Sorry. I don’t get it. You’re making my brain hurt. Take this pill. You’ll sleep for a long time and the rest of us will stop feeling creeped out. Cheers.
Oh sweet swivelling Christ on a moped. This is where I start to feel clots forming on my brain.
The music industry is full of emaciated wankers in awful clothes who think that they’re way cooler than me. That’s fair enough. They probably are cooler than me in the sense that they’re more likely to be allowed into trendy night clubs and they’re more likely to present T4 and they’re more likely to die lonely and alone in a pile of lacerated septums and parrot shit. But I don’t really aspire to that kind of “cool” anyway. I’m quite a long way past giving a shit, to be honest. I have two kids, a beer gut and all the CDs I can eat. I am not, as common parlance would have it, bothered. But what I really can’t tolerate is people who hover around on the fringes of the metal scene with a look of haughty superiority on their faces. People who think they’re “above” heavy metal. People who used to like it but “grew out of it”. People who only listen to the small handful of metal bands that are broadly considered to be arty. People who like
I’ll give you two examples. There’s a guitarist in a well known (and painfully hip) metal band who I’ve interviewed a couple of times over the phone. He doesn’t really like metal and always makes a point of reminding me that he doesn’t particularly like his band being associated with it, even though every single fucking tour they’ve ever done has been with other (much less hip) metal bands and he wouldn’t have a career or a fan base without the metal scene and its followers. He is, to put it mildly, a tit. In truth, his taste in music and mine are eerily similar (up to a point). Although I write about metal for a living, I’m a huge fan of jazz and progressive rock and hip-hop and obscure punk bands and blues and reggae and avant-garde classical music and lots of other mind-bending stuff. The difference is that I don’t expect a fucking medal for being such an erudite fellow and I don’t think that I am more sophisticated or mature than the average Slayer fan. I probably am, to be fair, but I don’t really care. Some of my closest friends have awful taste in music. I can live with that, just as they can live with the fact that they find my political views preposterous. Ultimately, there’s really no need to be an arrogant, hipster prick. So stop it.
Second example…a supposed friend of mine is currently playing in band that have a major label deal. They’re getting a decent amount of media attention and will probably do quite well, despite being 100 per cent contrived and bit wanky. Whatever. This guy recently did an interview during which he claimed, somewhat ludicrously, that he has “forgotten more about metal than Metal Hammer”. Firstly, I’ve know this guy for years. He doesn’t know that much about metal. He’s a part-timer and a bit of a poser. Secondly, by trying to imply that he’s a proper old school metal fan (whatever that means) and bemoaning the lack of proper old school metal bands, he reveals himself to be a bit of a cock. There are literally hundreds of bands around at the moment playing exactly the kind of music that he doesn’t think exists anymore. Furthermore, most of those bands receive coverage in Metal Hammer. That’s ignorance on a hideous scale, particularly given that he’s trying to set himself up as some kind of arbiter of good metal taste. That’s the problem with deciding that you’re too cool to hang around with actual metal fans. I don’t care what kind of music you’re into. If you’re more concerned with being cool than with joining in the fun and being honest and humble, then go fuck yourself and the trend you rode in on. And get some self-awareness while you’re at it.
Ooh, I feel much better now. Don’t forget, kids. It’s never too late to HATE HATE HATE!
Lots of love,