Pyrrich Victory

Matt Branscome told me Leslie Holmes Joyner Barnett(?) reads this blog, and that about spoils it for me. She's a crummy sort of semi-person, in my book, and I long ago told her to get lost. I won't write a single word to amuse her, consciously. I don't know why she still has some morbid interest in me, or my writings, she's dead to me, and I hope she's reading this last post.

Fuck the Hippies!

I hate Deadheads, there, I blogged it. I had to get it off my chest, the fans of The Grateful Dead annoy me, and always have. I have an enthusiasm for punk/hardcore music, among other musical genres, so it's fair to say I'm a bit predisposed to dislike and disrespect the "Deadheads". Growing up in the late 80's, the underground music scene was mixed and muddled- a party you'd drop in could have any sort of mix of people following whichever stereotype they had decided to identify with. There were goth kids, skinheads, nerdy punks, and punks in leather jackets. Also a smattering of "straight" kids that were slumming, or whatever. They were so much more tolerable than the Deadheads. They said "yes" to drugs, and wore it on their tie-dyed sleeves, and were so annoyingly stupid, passive and stoned, and yet remained involved in consuming all things related to this band. A band that really sucked, in my unabashed opinion, and I'm now 35 and don't dispute my youthful disdain. If Jerry Garcia isn't rotting in hell with a perpetual poison enema, I register my disgust.