Written by Dan Bristol
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Saturday, 8 May 2004

image for N'Sync: Boy Bands and the Lamers Who Love Them N'Stink: They Suck and I Hate Them

...All right, who let the Boys From Brazil in?

Every once in a while I think, "Well, we can't get much lower than this." Then some fucker proves me wrong, thus horrifying me into a coma. N'Sync is just one example of this phenomenon. The Backstreet Boys also exemplify it. However, both Boy Bands are interchangeable. Yes, I am lumping them together. No, that's not a very positive or open-minded thing to do. Yes, You may bite me. (Same goes for all you Michael Jackson fans who’ve been sending me hate e-mails. Want to impress me? Ask for my r/t address and come get me!)

First of all, let's look at the injustice here. Stevie Ray Vaughn is dead and these little tongue-piercing Hitler Youth wet-behind-the-ears no-talent mama’s boys are still walking the earth? Perhaps God is not dead, perhaps not even asleep, but at this point I'll bet next month's rent that somebody up there is coming down with a cosmic-sized case of Alzheimer's (Oh, no, Dan! Don’t make politically incorrect Alzheimer’s jokes! – You can ALL bite me). There is no justice except for plastic, liberal, lukewarm Starbuck’s drinking un-people. Hell is full and the dead are walking the earth, and the popularity of “boy bands” is indefatigable proof of this.

Let's take a look at this snivelling little congregation of rat faced twits. Five (or six. Doesn't matter since they all look alike) preppy clones singing bubble-gum lovey-dovey music, and they're considered cultural icons! Don't you get it? This is one of the signs of the Apocalypse! Or it's a sign that we need to turn these little white-bread sewage-spewing pablum-pukers loose in "Deliverance" territory, where Bubba the Redneck will be more than happy to give them SCADS of material for their next "I Wuv You" CD.

Now, I know the future belongs to genetically-engineered Brady Bunch teenagers (Note to those who have been flaming me via e-mail: what you just missed was called “irony,” and it’s the basis of most humor, but I don’t want to distract you from saving the world and smoking doobage, so please continue drooling), but let's pretend for a moment that we live in a world that ISN'T secretly run by Hollywood and Dr. Mengele. The mere sight of these way-too-happy, way-too-shiny little mannequins makes me wish Joe Cocker was still alive. Oh, wait a minute, he is......he sold out, too, is all. What's the connection between N'Sync and Joe Cocker? They both appear in this editorial. Yes, you may bite me again.

What are we going to do when we realize that we now allow Hollywood to run the music industry? What will we do when we realize that the reason there will never be another Beatles or Iron Maiden is because of the currents that led to the creation of these five (or seven. Who really cares apart from some snot-nosed lifeguard middle-class suburban daddy’s girl?) musical monstrosities. Mass production has given us N'Sync as proof that you don't even need to know how to play an instrument! Just be a fresh-faced, over-moussed, arrogant little bastard of a middle-class teenaged masturbation champion that the record industry can hold up as a reminder that maybe Hitler isn't dead after all.


DISCLAIMER: The author recognizes that this article will certainly offend somebody somewhere, and he doesn’t really give a rat’s ass.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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