Sunday, April 17, 2011

Fukushima don't got nothing on *this meltdown*. LOL. (Too soon?)

I don't touch upon music as a point of critique in this blog simply because I'm too close to the subject matter. However, the cultural decay surrounding music as an art-form is open fucking season. So spread your cheeks, lift your sack, hide your kids, hide your wife, get on the floor, everybody walk the dinosaur...

I present Exhibit A.

Ariel's "meltdown" at Coachella. I'll actually exercise a fair amount of brevity here because it doesn't take a fucking trend-hunter to realize that music festivals like Coachella are a dying institution populated and propagated by people who only relate to music on the most shallow of levels. (Which is why it's easy to get at them dollars)

Analogy: Someone bereft or feeling deprived of a cultural identity, tries "something different" to be cool (or make money, whatever). Falls into the wrong crowd- gets repeatedly, viciously and vigorously molested and becomes "uncool" for the rest of their fucking lives. (Therapy = $$$)

If you were stupid enough to be at Coachella in the first place, then you not only deserved to have your favorite performer (whom ever that may be) turn their back on you, but you also deserved to have your starlet(s) of choice take a stiff shit down your throat, with their ass cheeks agape from laughter.

"Oh but we paid 300$+ AMERICAN just to see him and blah blah blah" - No, you didn't. You paid to be at **~~Coachella~~**. You paid for a pedantic festival of "spring-breakian" proportions and the hive-mind mass hysteria that's been programmed into you every since Nirvana got airplay. I can't speak for Ariel's motivations behind what went down and that's primarily because they don't fucking matter. If this was a meltdown, then it was a meltdown in the collective conscious of the creative minority. Our name is Sharif and we don't like it.

You feel bilked?



Too bad, bitch. So do we. Here's "one to grow on": Never pay more than 100$ for *anything* related to music unless it's a Fender Jagstang (gear) or Peruvian Blue Flake (drugs). I hope next year the rest of us will finally toss these events to the bros, the personality "no-gots" and the middle-aged couples who want to reaffirm that they are old and irrelevant via a combination of Radiohead, Schrooms, Lazar lights and over-priced domestic beer.

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