Hate, the Internet, Brokencyde and Michael Jackson.

Hi, I was just wondering why everyone makes such a deal about the band 'Brokencyde'? I, personally, love the band. And, of course, I know that many people don't. Everyone's entitled to their opinion, but I just don't understand why everyone ridicule and degrade them so badly. I just find it cruel. They don't rape, kill or anything.. they just produce music for our entertainment. Why can't these people just back off? It's downright disrespectful.. and frankly over the top. Haters threatening to boycott the band if they play at the warp tour? Death threats? The insults are just horrendous. Everyone's different. Some like screamo, some like pop, classical, rock, etc. Some people think music is useless and a waste of time. So stating your opinion (i.e. Brokencyde sucks, they have no talent) and passing it off as FACT is just stupidity. What's with all the hate? Isn't hate the reason for suicide, depression, war, etc? Isn't it the reason for Michael Jackson's death? I know for sure that hate is the reason for my depression and my sister's death.
I'd like to hear what you have to say to all this. --S.L.

Dear S.L.,

Thanks for giving me some room to work with on this one. If it was just another question about that band, I wouldn't have even bothered to answer it, but you were good enough to have more than just that to say, so thank you for it.

Should I assume that you read my previous entry regarding Brokencyde? To summarize, I was asked why a man in his early thirties might enjoy their music, and further, what my thoughts on the band were. Needless to say, I'm not a fan, and while I did withhold from unloading hate from both barrels, so to speak, I posited that part of the band's appeal to their audience is the polarizing power of hate-- that the band shrewdly exploits this in order to better market their music, by making themselves targets of the uncensored hate all over the internet here.

It's great (for you) that you love them, but there are plenty of folks out there who just find the music terrible, or the fashion sense deplorable, etc, considering it mere fodder for the lowest common denominator, whatever. But I think your question has more to do with hate than it does Brokencyde, am I right?

Here's the thing about hate and the internet: the internet gives everyone a voice, regardless of message, spelling/grammar skills, presumptive social values, or purpose. Have you ever read the comments section on any youtube page? ESPECIALLY the popular ones. Pick one. Any. For every "oh dude that's awesome" or "OMG i <3 ____'s (music/face/body/whatever) so much!!!!!111!!!," there are plenty of barely articulate rants and gibes, as rife with spite as spelling errors, and all about as necessary as a condom in a convent. It's everywhere. Visit your favorite websites, especially ones where the content has a comments section-- same rules apply. Maybe it's moderated, maybe it isn't-- but if it's not, you can bet your ass it's full of serious garbage.

And why is that? Why do people find the need to vent like that? It's easy-- because people CAN vent like that. Any public forum, unmoderated, if visited enough, will ultimately degrade to the worst of things, because the anonymity of the internet makes it easy. Some people do it because it's funny-- and you know what? Sometimes, it is funny-- especially if it's well-crafted. There are entire websites out there dedicated solely to cutting down things that the authors of the sites despise. Personally, I can get behind that, because I believe speech SHOULD be free and uncensored. I'm willing to put up with the bullshit to be able to say whatever I want to say. Yes, it does sometimes get out of hand, and yes, that's a shame, but these are the risks we as a society have decided to accept in favor of being able to say and think whatever we want.

I could sit here right now and tell you why I think the band Coldplay is God's way of punishing us for NOT executing the members of U2 (for the crime of continuing to put out increasingly terrible records after blowing their collective wad on their artistic zenith in "Achtung Baby"), and I could think of all sorts of clever metaphors. I could use the phrase "languish forever, consigned to the horse-phallus forced-sodomy ring of hell." I might think that was funny, and you know what? I probably have some friends and readers who would laugh, as well. Does that make me right, or just an opinionated asshole? Does it matter? I'm making use of my freedom to speak as I will.

But obviously, there's more to it than that. And there's a difference between internet hate and legitimate, real-life hate. The difference is, people aren't killing people because someone calls your favorite band a bunch of diarrhea-flavored eunuchs. You could write a blog criticizing Brokencyde, for example, and not a single member of that band is going to dive into the Grand Canyon. I'll concur with you far enough to say that "hate" gets out of hand on the internet, but there's personal hate, and then there's spitting for spit's sake.

Hate, internet or otherwise, didn't kill Michael Jackson-- pills killed Michael Jackson. A hard life killed Michael Jackson, and a few decades of bad choices. Personally, for the record, I think he did some fucked-up shit, made a mess of his life, and is probably better off now, but it wasn't bloggers, comment-section ninjas, or internet trolls that killed him. Personal responsibility, you know?

Now, I won't say that NO ONE has ever been killed or driven to suicide by harassment on the internet or even in real life. I won't say that no one has ever cried from some hurtful words, virtual or spoken. I'd go far enough as to say that there are plenty of people who suffer from depression, and getting picked on or hated on, regardless of venue, is a serious problem. I won't offer to excuse the behavior of bullies and assholes-- even when I've been a bully or an asshole. What I will, and emphatically, here, state, is that people suck. Always have, always will. You can't change that, and you can't stop it. Let me tell you, I've tried. It doesn't work, at least not until my Empathy Bomb (patent pending) goes off and teaches the world the real price of every action.

So what can you do? The same thing anyone can. If you can't change the world, you have to be strong enough in yourself to stand against it. Keep things in perspective. You're articulate enough to ask an intelligent question, so I'm sure you're smart enough to realize that there's nothing anyone can SAY to you that, as mere words, will actually alter the fundamental nature of who you are-- unless you choose to let it affect you. Your skin is as thick as you choose. Someone could make fun of you for liking Brokencyde, or the Twilight books, dogs over cats, or McDonald's cheeseburgers or Jesus or the color orange-- but does that make you any less than who you are? People say shit to me ALL THE TIME, because I have a tendency to make myself a target by being free with my opinions. I don't mind admitting that I hate things you may like, or like things you may hate-- but I don't care what your opinion is about it. If you like something I do, or something about me? Awesome. That's cool. It won't make me be your friend, though-- you have to earn that by less superficial means. By the same token, do you hate MY favorite bands? The music I write? This blog? The color of my hair, my cat, my blue eyes, my ethnic heritage, or how clean I keep my toilet? I don't care. Hell, you can hate me PERSONALLY, and it doesn't really affect me because I choose not to let it do so. That's your watch, not mine. If you live your life based on what other people think or believe, you're going to be sad. There's enough sadness and strife in one life that there's hardly any reason to start adding to the pile, you know?

I don't know what factors in your life are tearing you down or making you depressed, but I'm willing to bet that you have the power, inside you already, to be better and stronger than that, or to get whatever help you need to take charge of your life. Seriously.

I don't know if this was the answer you were looking for, but I hope it helps, one way or another. Take care of yourself.
Always Listening,
Dr. Sunday

Shorties, Anonymous, and Facebook: a collection of the brief.

*****Dear Readers-- what you are about to read is a list of random short questions asked of me, whether via anonymous emails (some nice, some fake, some douchey), or comments left on my facebook page. Thought I'd share, because, well, I want to, and this is MY blog. If you don't like it, you're probably not reading this anyway. So enjoy, friends. --The Doctor.*****

#1- Doctor: Itchy head.. Do I have lice? And if so, Will you pick them out? --T.

Dear T: Getting checked for lice is fun and easy-- those popsicle stick things they run through your hair kind of feel good on the scalp.
Lice-picking is a premium service, not included within the Dr. Sunday free project, but I could probably offer you a coupon or something. I'd also advise not wearing the other kids' hats. Love, Dr. Sunday

#2- Doctor Sunday: My question for you is... My boyfriend is turning 28 in August and I have no idea what to do for him. I know I want to do something very creative and adventurous but I'm running low on ideas. Any thoughts??? --M.

Dear M: Might I suggest, firstly, a surprise party, on a date at least one week prior to his birthday? I successfully caught my dear Claudia with a great surprise party by enlisting (without her knowledge) the help of a couple of her friends (whom she didn't know I had contact with; I used facebook and was VERY tricky). A surprise party ON the birthday would be too easily deduced.

Are we discussing a gift, an event, or a combination thereof? In my experience (as in, being a guy), I will tell you that nothing moves me more than an experience I can remember forever, or something I can hold onto and look back on repeatedly, whether it be a poem, a hand-made gift or hand-made card, or simply a letter on clever stationary. I'm the sentimental type, so a keepsake is a lot more meaningful to me than say, that video game I've been dying to play, which I'll play through once and then never again. I don't know if your man falls into that category, but that would certainly make your job easier.

Using your wits, you can guarantee the kind of birthday surprise for your boyfriend that he'll never forget.

Always listening,
Dr. Sunday

#3-- Doctor Sunday- Why are you such a homo? --Goat-Sodomizing Fuckbottle [identity edited by the editor because I fucking CAN]
Dear GSF,
It's 2009, why not? Dr. Sunday just loves people. Plus, you're really cute. Piss off, my dear Goat-Sodomizing Fuckbottle, and if you feel again like speaking to me, at least be funny. Keep reaching for that rainbow! --Dr. Sunday

#4-- Dr. Sunday, Where the hell did my pants go??????!@? --K.
Dear K.,
They are under my bed, in my box of keepsakes, because your love means so much to me that I can't imagine being able to part with them. I regret the necessity of sneaking up behind you with a chloroform soaked rag, just to steal your pants, but to be honest, after the roller coaster/whirlwind madness we shared, I simply didn't believe that you'd be willing to part with even such a simple keepsake.

Or maybe that was a joke. I'd advise looking through your laundry hamper aggressively, or looking under your bed. Normally, when I can't find an article of clothing, it has either been misfiled in my closet/dresser/etc, or buried somehow in my laundry, if not appropriated by my beloved cat as part of his fortress under my bed.
Hope this helps you.
Love,
Dr. Sunday

#5 Dr Sunday-- (*editor's note, spelling in this query has been corrected, and rather extensively at that): what is your problem with BC13? I read your post and you're just running your mouth like an asshole. no one asked you. --the dank knight
Dear "The Dank Knight,"
First off, yes, someone DID ask me. Secondly, you clearly didn't read the post thoroughly enough, but I'd blame that on the apparently severe level of cognitive disability you displayed so memorably across your email. Tell your mother or special needs provider that I told you to "write back when puberty hits, or functional literacy-- whichever comes first." Twat. Sincerely, Dr. Sunday.
PS- the "DANK KNIGHT?" seriously? dude. Wow.

*****And I'll close there. I've got more, but I'll save those for a future date. I'd once again like to remind you to feel free to ASK ME ANYTHING, and thank you, my dear readers, for making this blog such a fun and successful project.
Much love, and always listening,
Dr. Sunday*****

BC13, my take on the great debate of our time.

Dear Dr. Sunday,

I don't know how old you are, but I presume you're similarly-aged to a friend of mine, whose age-inappropriate superfandom of the band Brokencyde both amuses and perplexes me. From what he's described/coaxed me into hearing, they are a screamo crunk band from New Mexico (also known as BC13) that is popular with the kids these days. I have attached a photo for reference.

Also: http://www.myspace.com/brokencyde



The media HATES THIS BAND. Like, EPICALLY. Which obviously only makes their fans love them more; their latest opus is named "I'm Not A Fan, But The Kids Like It", and what do teenagers love more than an solid in-joke? I get that. My own personal opinion is that they are fine, not my thing as they seem to already know, certainly not worthy of hatred and occasionally provide me with genuine amusement. They sing about getting wasted and being players in a not particularly offensive way. You will have to try harder than that to offend me, Brokencyde.

Anyway so what with you being a man of the world and all, I was curious to hear your take on all this, both on the phenomenon that is Brokencyde, and why my friend (whom I should probably mention is also smart, employed and doesn't live with his parents) might be so taken with them.

- Blasé about BC13

Dear Blasé,

As a worldly man of 31 years who enjoys reaping from the vast Sargasso that is the modern internet, it is simple enough to state that among the detritus dredged from those dark depths, I have encountered the inexplicable Brokencyde phenomenon.

I will go ahead and admit that my reactions to this band span a spectrum from "upturning of the nose in derision" to "vicious, spiteful commentary more for the fun of crafting innovative insults than to ACTUALLY denote an active and consuming hatred." On a visceral level, what we have in BC13 is a group of young men, creating music as boring, tacky, and uninspired as their fashion sense. These are kind of people who would draw the eye just long enough to evoke usage of the term "douchebag," even were they spotted in the kind of environment where dressing like the worst bits of the 1980's just vomited neon colored slushies all over an American Apparel catalog in a men's room at the mall is considered tolerable.

I was exposed initially to the group via that bizarre side effect of social networking; the "dude, check this out WTFLOL" sharing that comes as a necessary result of access to such a broad range of fast and free information. I was relieved, initially, upon receiving the link to their video ("Freaxxx," here provided for your perusal, should you desire), only in that I was not being sent any sort of diarrhea porn, animal porn, amputee porn, or porn in general; but I failed to even make it through the video. I hated it. I hated the song, I hated the music. I hated the group before the one skunk-haired tool screamed his first, or the other skunk-haired tool started spouting the auto-tune vocals. As I've stated elsewhere I'm very sensitive to aesthetics, especially in the context of band names and other sorts of identity-based marketing. So, having provided a link to the context of the statement, let me relate that a group spelling their name "Brokencyde" and offering a song called "Freaxxx" makes my skin crawl, even before I decide to give them a chance. Add to that, then, an MTV-friendly combination of mallrat children co-opting tired "big money" hip-hop cliches, somehow made "fresh" by the addition of judiciously flagellating the deceased equine of emocore/screamo in one big ball of novelty candy, sharted from the bum of pop culture boredom.

Now, here's the key point, after I've exercised my love of vitriol: I stopped caring. I don't think about them, until someone mentions them, in which case I take delight in voicing my distaste. The truth is, I find them guilty of only one unpardonable sin: the joke isn't funny. It's one thing to go through such troubles to create a novelty act, market it, foster an internet presence, all that, but if the joke isn't funny, the whole thing is just sad. The teenage version of me wants to rail here, and start spouting about how this is insulting to "real" music/musicians, and that this music fails to act as a cultural catalyst for a true philosophical change, and that I'm going to go smoke a cigarette behind my parents' shed with the Velvet Underground on my walkman-- but the teenage version of me also wore flares, and took himself far, far too seriously.

I believe that the ease with which the media finds hate for BC13 is a clever aspect of their marketing. I believe that they knew fully well when sitting in the studio that their laugh riot would incite vehement, virulent and vicious disgust among the internet world-- a world known for its excesses in spewing hatred. Of course, unless I give them too much credit for savvy, this would also then indicate the polarizing power of such hatred basically guaranteeing them a stronger loyalty in their fanbase, exactly as you stated in your question.

So, why, then would a man in my age group, such as your friend, have any reason to enjoy, let alone even voluntarily listen to Brokencyde? I can only think of a few possibilities. Perhaps your friend respects their (as he sees it) clever marketing and use of the internet to generate "buzz," and sees them as Machiavellian figures, forward-thinking geniuses manipulating the internet and culture to their advantage through innovative planning. Or could it be, perhaps, that he is merely facing some sort of early-onset midlife crisis, where by attempting to identify with the trappings of youth (through music marketed to children), he believes he can achieve some sort of second adolescence, thereby reclaiming the vitality he feels he has lost as the years begin to take their toll?

Or maybe, just maybe, you simply have a friend who has inexplicably bad taste in music, where this one group is concerned.

Regardless, I hope these thoughts have been enlightening and useful for you. My perspective, such as it is, is merely opinion, except for when I say I'm right. And I'm ALWAYS right [citation needed].

Always Listening,
Dr. Sunday