St. Anger for President!

 

The Happy Park

ACT I

Welcome to The Happy Park

Frisbees thrown, puppies bark

Novels read underneath the trees

Relaxing in the warmest breeze

Children play on slides and swings

Monkey bars and trampolines

Even when the sun has set

The dark day isn’t over yet

ACT II

Wonder why the grass is colorful?

Elves are buried in shallow holes

Why’s there dragon fruit on trees?

A faerie army fell to their knees

Why are the swing sets so sturdy?

Dwarven bones thick and dirty

No Happy Park without sacrifice

Your favorite creatures cold as ice

ACT III

You don’t have to ask questions

As rainbow bubbles grab attentions

Live, laugh, play every day

Nothing wrong with our brutal ways

Your parents pay their tax dollars

So colorful critters will die and holler

Don’t mind the rumbling in your guts

Work a little harder if you’ve got the nuts

CONCLUSION

If you don’t appreciate genocide

We can always take a bulldozer for a ride

Be grateful for the shallow beauty

Picketing is for the fruity

We got the magic wands and staffs

Sorcerers and their belly laughs

Eight foot tall barbarians

Back up your youthful arrogance

Have a nice day! Come back tomorrow

Take the edge off your so-called sorrows

Play in the park and be grateful

Who cares if its history is bleak and hateful?

Strip You

 I hereby strip you of your freedom of speech

You fucked the conversation with the hate you teach

I hereby strip you of your right to bear arms

You could take a toy pistol and maximize the harm

I hereby strip you of your right to a trial

The shit you’re accused of goes on for miles

I hereby strip you of your non-prison clothes

In exchange for a jumpsuit and depressive woes

This ain’t no funhouse, people are dying

Yet you shrug off the complaints as babies crying

This ain’t no rally, you have nothing to be proud of

Count the dead bodies, if you’re generous, round up

I hereby strip you of your power over us

You’re drunk on your Kool-Aid, time to sober up

I hereby strip you of your gaslighting techniques

None of it’s romantic, even less of it is sexy

I hereby strip you of your traumatic excuses

None of them justify your emotional abuses

I hereby strip you of your entire legacy

And your purple cushion throne and royal pedigree

This ain’t no kingdom, I won’t fight for you

And your so-called rights to fuck over the truth

This ain’t no ballgame, I won’t bat for you

I’d rather take that bat and beat you black and blue

I hereby strip you of your bigotry

Brought to you by generations of idiocy

I hereby strip you of your ignorance

Everything you love lacks innocence

What gives me the right to take it all away?

You’d do the same to me anytime any day

Freedom for all loses all of its meaning

When the power belongs to the extremist-leaning

This ain’t no safe space for your prejudice

Defeats the purpose of human etiquette

This ain’t no graveyard for your victims

But a mausoleum for a broken system

Disillusionment

CHORUS
Disillusionment
Disappointment
Disenchantment
Disenfranchisement

VERSE 1
Never forget the platinum rule
Don’t be taken for a bloody fool
Pedestals weren’t meant to go that high
Same level as the angels in the sky
When they destroy what you love
When you’re theirs to push and shove
When you’re locked in an institution
Still don’t realize your own disillusion

CHORUS
Disillusionment
Disappointment
Disenchantment
Disenfranchisement

VERSE 2
Was it sex appeal that turned you on?
Was manipulation part of the con?
Money and fame that fucked your brain?
Word salad that made this seem so sane?
Should I slap your face to wake you up?
Should I scream about how much this sucks?
Your tragic tale has a deadly conclusion
Yet you can’t realize your own disillusion

CHORUS
Disillusionment
Disappointment
Disenchantment
Disenfranchisement

VERSE 3
The planet’s on fire, the air is poison
Shit goes beyond mere disappointment
No money in your bank, here come the tanks
Got a rifle in your hand like you’re in the ranks
Head in the sand like a number one fan
Idol cheats a system that fucks a lesser man
Wakey wakey, wakey! Eggs and bacey!
But you say to the reaper, “Come and take me!”

FINAL VERSE
You tried to hide!
Opened wide and lied!
You died for pride!
False god never cried!

Creep Street

Streets of darkness, perfect targets
Hoot and holler like a wild man
Call them “hotties”, grab their bodies
Creep Street is in style, man
Get rejected, get defensive
When she tells you to, “Fuck off!”
Alpha male with a baby’s wail
Never ever to be sucked off
Grab her arm, do your harm
Purple circles on her bicep
You entitled little child
You know she doesn’t like it
Throw her down, make her drown
In your disgusting fluids
Traumatize until you realize
You’re nothing but human sewage
Cops do nothing, her brain is numbing
Did you get your hot desires?
So romantic, necromantic
Accuse her of being a liar
Shoot you dead, bullet in your head
That’s what we all should do
There’s no magic in street harassment
Who’s the next victim you choose?
Blond or brunette? Moans or music?
Long legs or ample breasts?
It doesn’t matter, dick gets fatter
She’s face down just like the rest
Creep Street blues, call it fake news
You’ll get away with it this time
But Karma’s a bitch, a scratch to itch
Your life ain’t worth a thin dime

Idiocracy

MOVIE TITLE: Idiocracy

DIRECTOR: Mike Judge

YEAR: 2006

GENRE: Dystopian Comedy

RATING: R for language and suggestive dialogue

GRADE: Pass

You know how science fiction movies are supposed to be good at predicting the future? Even though this movie is set five hundred years from now, with our current political climate, it almost feels like Idiocracy’s prediction is right on the nose. Smart people are unsure and unprepared when it comes to having babies while idiots are so overconfident that they don’t mind polluting the earth with equally stupid crotch goblins. And then these defective genes are passed down through multiple generations and here we are. Corporate branding replaces commonsense. Macho manliness and crass humor replace kindness and decency. Gatorade replaces regular drinking water. Any kind of intellectual thought is met with homophobic and ableist slurs. Of course, Idiocracy takes all of this behavior to the extreme and that’s why it’s so hilarious. The citizens of this new dystopia have to rely on a mediocre white guy to fix all of their problems because he’s technically the smartest guy on earth. Again, does any of this sound familiar?

Yes, Idiocracy is just a comedy and it shouldn’t be taken super seriously. Yes, we can laugh until our ribs are broken and our lungs are punctured. But you know…there’s an awful lot of truth packed into these ninety minutes of screen time. Being true and funny at the same time will always earn the director bonus points. That is, unless there are a bunch of futuristic idiots watching a two-hour movie about somebody’s butt farting every once and a while. No story. No other plot points. Just farting and butts. And that movie won multiple academy awards, including best screenplay. Yeah, that happens in Idiocracy. Sad, but true. If this is the slow death our world must go through, why not laugh along the way? It’s better than crying, although tears would be better for dying crops than Gatorade (even though Gatorade has “electrolytes”, whatever those are). Four out of five stars for this ridiculous dystopian comedy! No wonder it became a cult favorite!

I Walk Alone

VERSE 1
I walk like a zombie and talk like a child
I scream like a wounded lion in the wild
I block out the world with big headphones
In this massive crowd, I find myself alone
Invisibility comes naturally to little old me
Not that there’s ever been anything to see
Keep on walking and pretend I’m not here
Go home to the real ones you hold so dear


CHORUS
I walk alone no matter where the hell I go
I walk alone in case you fucking didn’t know
I walk alone in the darkness of night
I walk alone and awaken uptight


VERSE 2
I watch you all with a microscopic lens
There’s no way I’ll call any of you friends
You’re all strangers with your own agendas
You’re all conspirators with your own vendettas
Heaven forbid I make it past the surface level
Lord knows that would make me the next devil
I sit here in silence with my own introversion
While all of you pretend to know my burdens


CHORUS
I walk alone no matter where the hell I go
I walk alone in case you fucking didn’t know
I walk alone in the darkness of night
I walk alone and awaken uptight


VERSE 3
Whether you’re a cute girl giggling at nothing
Or a crook on the run who isn’t worth trusting
A cop with a taser that brings down the lightning
A corporate executive with charisma so frightening
A football stud hanging out with your beer bros
A drunken idiot with a broken lyrical flow
You may look different, but your aura’s the same
Forever making me hang my head in shame


CHORUS
I walk alone no matter where the hell I go
I walk alone in case you fucking didn’t know
I walk alone in the darkness of night
I walk alone and awaken uptight


HOOK
The streets are such a lonely place
Always let down after no embrace
Being a shut-in isn’t so damn bad
The most fun I’ve ever really had

Chehalis Memoir

Somewhere between 2007 through 2009 when I was holed up at Western Washington University in a cloud of lonely depression, I wrote a piece of creative nonfiction called “Go Bearcats”, where I lament the time I spent in Chehalis because I had lots of friends then. Fast forward to 2011 and I write a piece of creative nonfiction called “The Jennifer Conspiracy”, where I wonder why the hell I would ever miss that rundown place due to the even worse time I had in my freshman year of high school. Forget friendship, because there were a hell of a lot more enemies back in those days. Being alone in my dorm room with nobody to talk to from 2007 to 2009 was better than being verbally abused from 1999 to 2000. It’s just simple logic. I bet you’re expecting me to write an entire book about my experiences in Chehalis and make millions while exploiting my own heartache. Truth is, there isn’t much to tell that hasn’t already been told about the small town of Chehalis. Everybody who’s been there knows how bad the bullying situation is. Everybody who’s gone to Chehalis Middle School in the mid-90’s knows how disgusting the desks are because of all the graffiti on them. Everybody who’s taken a sex ed class from any school the city has knows that abstinence therapy is full of shit. Knowing everything we know about this black hole of a city, it should come as no surprise that people who want to get away from it all venture toward Olympia, the capital city of Washington. If they can’t afford the gas for a whole road trip, they usually go to the Matrix Coffeehouse to see a local band and eat hippie food. Do you know why The Matrix is a good place to escape to (given the 1999 movie of the same name, I tried not to laugh at that last statement as well)? Do you know why many flock to Olympia to get the hell out of Chehalis? Those same people know that Chehalis needs two things in order to improve: more diversity and less religion. White rednecks and brown Mexicans are two separate races that occupy Chehalis (hehe, I said Occupy Chehalis), but it’s not enough to be considered a diverse area. If anybody from another race even peeks from behind the corner, they get bullied. Hell, if you’re not 110% like everybody else in some way, shape, or form, you get picked on by the masses. Contrary to popular belief in Chehalis, God will not help you. Trust me, I’ve tried asking for his help when I was a freshman. Didn’t work. Surprise, surprise, puppy surprise. Too much religious conservatism and not enough diversity of ideas. If you want to know what would be included in a Chehalis memoir (preferably written by someone who is an A+ student somewhere other than there), this would be it. Poverty, racism, bigotry, ignorance, and maybe some inbreeding. If you ever ask me to talk about my memories of Chehalis in person, don’t expect an elaborate answer. What happens there deserves to be buried forever in that solemn graveyard. Who knows? There’s a graveyard on a hillside on the far end of town, maybe you’ll find a good memoir there.

　

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“She said, ‘I can’t take this place. I’m leaving you behind.’ She said, ‘I can’t take this town. I’m leaving you tonight.’”

-Green Day singing “Letter Bomb”-

"The Illustrated Man" by Ray Bradbury

Having a tattoo doesn’t necessarily mean you’re a 1% badass who rides around on a Harley 24/7. But when your body ink begins to tell stories of the future and the past as they move across your skin, don’t be surprised when the guy hearing these stories has wide eyes and an even wider mouth. And quick feet, let‘s not forget that either. “The Illustrated Man” by Ray Bradbury documents the story of a tattoo-covered man who fits this bill. In fact, his body ink inspired an entire anthology of stories in a little over 200 pages. What kind of stories do we get from this man’s skin art? How about the one that’s as notorious as they come. You know, the one that almost all high school students have to read at some point. The tale of two spoiled brat children who spend their lives in a crystallized room that lets them experience television firsthand instead of vicariously. Or how about the one where a bunch of space jockeys are trapped on Venus and are driven mad by the harsh rain pounding on their softening skulls. Or maybe you prefer the one where a bunch of neighborhood kids are playing out in the streets an enacting an alien invasion scene, which is dead close to reality, by the way. No matter which story you decide is your favorite, you can be guaranteed that every single time, you will be educated beyond your wildest imagination. Ray Bradbury educates you by punishing his characters for their negative traits such as racial ignorance, selfishness, zeal, hatred, and a litany of other things that should be frowned upon by anybody with a shred of positivity within them. It shouldn’t come as any surprise that Bradbury went on to have an illustrious career as an author that spanned many decades. And because it spanned many decades, the wise author left this life recently due to old age. Despite how many miles he had on him, I still believe he left us too soon. Rest in peace, Ray Bradbury. “The Illustrated Man” and the lessons it teaches will never be forgotten except by those who possess the ignorance necessary to be punished for it. Sometimes I think Mr. Bradbury would have had a stroke anyways if he saw the way us humans behaved.

　

***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“New rule: if churches don’t have to pay taxes, they also can’t call the fire department when they catch on fire. Sorry Reverend, that’s one of those services that comes with paying in. I’ll use the fire department that I pay for, you can pray for rain.”

-Bill Maher-