Fuck crunk music.

One of my favorite things to rant about these days is shitty music, and in particular, crunk music and America's infuriating obsession with it.

I want to make one thing clear right out of the gate, and that is that I love hip hop. It takes real talent to pull off hip hop well; and sadly more people have a record deal than talent deserving of one. But what I'm referring to here can't legitimately be called hip hop; in fact, it can't legitimately be called anything but horse shit.

I'm struggling to find words to express how aggravating it is when I'm walking on campus or I'm at a red light or I'm in a parking lot and I hear some zombie driving around with this crap blasting out of his speakers with so much bass that it sounds like he's got a bitch locked in his trunk. I'm not one of those ignorant fucks who says all hip hop sounds the same. That's a childish and uninformed statement, but I mean it when I say that all crunk music really does sound the same. It's the same generic beats manufactured from the same 808 kits, with the same uninspired lyrics completely devoid of meaning or substance, from the same industry stooges like the asshole pictured above. (For those of you fortunate enough to be unfamiliar, that's Soulja Boy Tell 'Em, the latest turd to be crapped from the anus that is the modern hip hop industry.) Hell, next to no one even tries to actually rap anymore, and most of the few who do, fail miserably at it.

I would almost say that hip hop has been dumbed-down, but that's a misleading statement, because to me "dumbed-down" implies that someone is stooping beneath his intellectual level to reach a certain demographic. But "dumbed-down" is not appropriate here because no one involved with this shit could possibly have the intelligence or artistic integrity God typically bestows upon a sofa cushion. I'll tell you what: bring me proof of any kind of artistic value in the phrase "Supaman dat hoe" and I will delete this blog.

I usually conclude my rants about shitty hip hop by encouraging people to listen to good hip hop. Mos Def, Talib Kweli, Common, The Roots. Someone with something to say, or at the very least, talent. Even Kanye, who's not great (good, but not great) is leaps and bounds above just about all other mainstream hip hop. I've seen response to criticism of people like Soulja Boy, and it usually reads, "y u be hatin on soulja boy bitch when his new albm drop he gon be off da hook an all da hatas gon be on his shit peace we$t $ide 4eva," and to that I really can't do anything but nearly piss myself laughing, because such comments really speak for themselves and the kind of idiots who are dumb enough buy into shit like this in the first place. And before anyone says it, because we're all thinking it, I'm fully aware that I'm white and that that alone takes away whatever credibility I may have had to begin with, but I don't care. Music is music, and I love music, and all I'm doing is expanding my musical horizons; challenging myself. I challenge you to do the same.

»Download: 4 GOOD Hip Hop Songs

Dear Catherine,

This is a few weeks over due but I've been waiting for a chance where I have enough time to sit down and say what I really wanna say.

As of today it has been three weeks since you and Andrew died and since the moment I found out there's been about a million things going through my head, and most of them are just things that I wanted to say to you and that I want you to know.

First and foremost, you and I both know this is not the first time I've addressed you in a blog, and even though you forgave me, I haven't forgiven myself for the mean shit that I said. I felt awful about it even when you were alive, but now that you're gone I feel like the worst person in the world for putting you on blast like I did. I have no right to call you my friend and yet you hardly let me apologize before you forgave me. It was a really shitty thing I did and I almost feel like somehow there was something at work because I feel like if you hadn't died, if you weren't gonna go early, you wouldn't have forgiven me. I just want you to know how truly sorry I am for the shit I said about you and I want you to know that I really didn't think that about you, and all it says about you is that you're a fucking fantastic person for even speaking to me again. Even though I know I didn't deserve it, I cannot tell you how glad I am that you did.

I also want to thank you for a bunch of things. First and foremost, for giving me your best friend. You really don't know what you did for me in that respect. I've told you before but I'll say it again - I owe everything to you, because you know how long I'd liked her and I was about to give up when you spilled the beans that she liked me too. That was over a year and a half ago and it's been a really incredibly happy year and a half for me with her and it's because of you. I also want to tell you how sorry I am that I kind of hogged her for the rest of your life after that, and I'd give anything to be able to give my time with Courtney to you. If there was any justice in the world, and someone had to go, it should have been me instead of you, because while boyfriends come and go, you would have been there for Courtney forever. She loves you so much more than you will ever imagine. I know you might not have been able to see it the last year and a half that I've been dating her because we got kind of caught up but she spoke so highly of you. You really were her other half.

I also want to thank you for putting up with my bullshit. Not just the mean blog, but all the times I called you and just bitched about whatever petty fight I was having with Courtney. I hope you do know that I enjoyed talking to you about other things; in all honesty I enjoyed talking about random shit with you a hundred times more than I ever enjoyed dumping my problems on you and I hope I didn't do that too much. I really am glad that you called me all those times you were bored and had nothing better to do. I'm not going to sit here and bullshit and say we were best friends because that would be an insult to you and I don't want to be one of those kids. But you said it and I feel the same - I considered you a good friend. And maybe it's because you had already called Richard or Joanie or Courtney and none of them answered or they were busy and I was the last person on your list who happened to be able to talk that you wound up calling me. That's probably the case, and I don't care - I'm still glad you did.

I also want you to know that I don't hold the whole "giving you rides" thing against you. I really don't. I was an asshole about it, I know, and I'm sorry I was. (Although in my defense, commie, you shouldn't have walked places when you knew you wouldn't feel like walking back - or when you knew you wouldn't be coming back till midnight, when you ran the high risk of being raped by shady Mexicans.) I'm not going to sit here and bullshit because at the time, yeah, it was a little inconvenient to drive you around but looking back, I would do anything to give you another ride somewhere. Anywhere. Fuck, I'd drive you back to Russia and Courtney would come with if it meant I could see you again and tell you what an asshole I am.

I also want you to know that I really hope you like the things that are going on for you these days. Maybe it's only because you're gone now but I like to think that somehow you can see us and that you saw what we did at the crash site. I hope you appreciated us blowing up the pumpkin with fireworks and getting the cops called on us and one of your own teachers lying to help cover it up. I hope you're going to appreciate the show we're playing for you; I hope we don't accidentally play a song that you fucking hated or that you find it all incredibly lame. You probably do, but tough shit. We need to do it for us almost as much as we do for you.

I can't promise this letter is going to stay the same as it is when I post it because I know I'm gonna remember more shit that I need to say but I think this will do for the time being. For now, just know that I miss you and, more than that, how much Courtney misses you.

Rest in peace, sister.

The official list of things that piss me off.

I love complaining. I am all about complaints and the general art and science of complaining, as long as it pertains to me and no one else. I'll complain about anything at any given time until a) I get my way, which never happens; b) I get tired of complaining, which is almost always temporary; or c) I find something to complain about, which happens frequently. So given that complaining is one of my past times, it should come as no surprise as to what one of the very few functions ("function" being a loose term) of this here blog is: complaining. To that end, I give you, in no particular order, the official list of things that piss me off:

Most hip hop that comes out these days, specifically any variety of snap music; people that buy into said bullshit and drive around with it blasting out of their cars or have it as their ringtones; ringtones in general; people who can't drive or who drive like shitheads; people who can drive better than me; people who can do anything else better than me; the fact that I don't have a Mac; the fact that my mom, my girlfriend, and my best friend all have Macs; police around here; over-anxious, bored police in general; when Ben beats me in a NINJA CRISIS!!!!!!; when Courtney sticks her fingers in my butt; people who complain more than I do; people who get away with a lot more stuff than I do, have, or will; Paris Hilton, Britney Spears and every last other obnoxious publicity whore; people who are obsessed with said publicity whores and survive on Us Weekly and TMZ; people who swear more than I do; homophobes; over-the-top conservatives; over-the-top liberals; the four people left who still support Bush; people who bash Bush simply because it's cool to do; people who don't listen; cats; the fact that my dog smells horrible and still insists on trying to sleep on my bed (where only one horrible-smelling person is supposed to sleep, and that is me); closed-minded people; people who listen to shitty music; people who don't listen to music period; people who have no sense of humor or who can't appreciate my particularly warped one; girls who only go out with "cool/hot" guys who are almost always assholes and then have the audacity to bitch to me that all guys are insensitive pricks; fighting with my girlfriend; dumbasses who don't believe in global warming; assholes who won't shut the fuck up already about global warming; gas; driving (to clarify, I used to love it but now that I do nothing but it I fucking hate it); the fact that Ben didn't stay here when he moved after Katrina; Ben's steroid-enhanced muscles; people who don't like Star Wars; people who have never seen Star Wars; people who don't like Star Wars despite having never seen any of them; child molestors; when people don't come to see me play; sixteen year old kids with BMW's that their parents bought them; people that have nicer guitars than I do (which is everyone); people that won't read all of this list; people who think taking pictures equals photography or makes them photographers; people who think that because they write a bunch of bullshit separated by line breaks that it equals poetry or makes them poets; girls who have pussies that smell like turkey; a girl I know to whom the last three things I listed apply; pretentious snobs; Fox News; when I fart and no one notices; middle-aged women who watch Desperate Housewives and think it speaks to them; people who are too stupid to grasp the concept of satire; anyone that has ever woken me up, whether I needed to be woken up or not; the process of waking up in general; people who make assumptions; hypocrites; people who don't know the difference between good music/movies/whatever and music/movies/whatever that they like; when girls start talking about weight; the fact that Godzilla never visited Los Angeles; the fact that Los Angeles still hasn't broken off the continent yet; wearing pants; people who think they're hot shit and aren't; people who are hot shit but don't think they are; people who make the same face and peace sign in 20 million of the same MySpace pictures; slutty girls; people who blow me off; when I blow someone off; people who don't speak English in places where English needs to be spoken (I'm talking to you, McDonald's), people who listen to songs, but not albums; people that don't listen to Tool; people who only talk about their car; people who talk on cell phones in movies; Bible-thumpers; holes in my sock.

And the worst part is, now I feel like I've actually done something productive with my day.

FIRST

To be short and to the point: Welcome. If in the future I manage to waste your time, piss you off, offend you or enlighten you, mission accomplished.