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

Woodford Reserve vs Knob Creek

Dear Dr. Sunday,

Woodford Reserve or Knob Creek? It drives me crazy every time I'm in the store and deciding between the two. I usually swing to the Knob Creek due to Woodford being a little more sweet, but I wanted your opinion.

k thx bai,
Towerz of Taylorz

P.S. I only drink these straight, so don't give me some bullshit about using mixers or anything like that.

Mr. Towerz,

I think that Knob Creek is the quintessential choice, especially for drinking straight. It has the kind of bold, manly aspect to it that fits perfectly in anything from a log cabin to a shady dive bar. You're not just buying the taste, you're buying the ambiance and the power. Or maybe you just really want to get hammered like a man.

Also, look at the bottles? Woodford Reserve looks like a bottle of perfume:


Now, look at Knob Creek:

That looks like a bottle of kick-ass barbecue sauce, or at the very least, a rather masculine aftershave.

Plus, think about the name: Woodford Reserve sounds like a golf course. Knob Creek sounds like a Civil War battlesite.

The choice is obvious, sir. I hope this has satisfied your curiosity.
Always Listening,
Dr. Sunday

Camels vs. Dolphins

Dear Dr. Sunday,

Firstly, thank you for your thoughts on my ice cream query. I had never thought to replace strawberry in the classic neopolitan combo with mint. Inspired. But I have another one for you: ever since this question was brought to me via my beloved Internets, I have not been able to reach a satisfactory answer. I sit up nights, weighing the options (that is a lie). I asked my friends what they thought on the Twitters some time ago, but they were as divided as I (that is a truth).

My question is, which animal is the most smug: dolphins or camels?

My favorite internet thinker seems to hate them both equally:

Camels: http://www.fupenguin.com/2008/12/camels-are-played-out.html
Dolphins: http://www.fupenguin.com/2008/11/dolphin-swagger-makes-me-sick.html

If HE cannot solve his very important debate, then what hope have I? Dolphins are pretty damn holier-than-thou in general, yet camels often seem inconvenienced to even take the effort to spit on passing travelers. Is there another animal I have yet to consider that is even more smug than these two? I am at a loss. You are my last hope, Dr. S.

- Confused on Chase

Dear Confused,

I had to spend some time, doing a fair bit of research, and consulting a wide range of experts on the topic (and by a wide range of experts, I mean asking my dad over the telephone while discussing unrelated matters). My dad’s answer (what the hell is wrong with you, son?) wasn’t completely useful, but some simple detective work provided much more useful information.

Camels are certainly smug, and they spit, which is rather nasty. They take a great deal of pride in their ability to conserve large quantities of water, and are efficient as methods of conveyance, despite their relative ugliness. Additionally, take a look at any Nativity scene– there are Camels, hanging out at the birth of Christ, having carried the Magi to bring Him some Christmas presents, thinking to themselves “history will remember us, and That Baby Over There, we’re awesome.” These facts do not escape the camel, as any google image search will reveal a very smug and self-satisfied look, although some justification for this can be assumed, if only slightly, because they do, in some respects, meet their own hype. Think of the Camel as Mother Nature’s Prius Owner.

Now, the Dolphin, on the other hand; that’s a horse of a different color. This is an animal who looks like it was designed by the hand of an artist in the early 80’s, the kind of person who wears neon tank tops and Zubaz pants, capped by wrap-around shades. We’re talking about an animal that looks as though its sole purpose in the world is to be airbrushed onto the backs of white tshirts with cheesy slogans and sunsets. This is why the Dolphin smiles– if the Camel is the Prius Owner, the Dolphin is the Cokehead Investment Banker in the Red Mustang, Blasting Whitesnake with the Top Down and Leering at Women while Cutting You off in Traffic. But it gets worse, so much worse.

You see, the Intenet, in its infinite wisdom, also tells us that the Dolphin follows that metaphor of the smug asshole just a little bit farther. There are countless reports, and I’ll just link a couple here, of Dolphins sexually assaulting humans while in the water– which oftentimes causes the victims to drown. That’s right, those smug assholes who contribute nothing to the world except for really bad ankle tattoos are serial rapists/murderers who consider themselves above the law. This is where the old saying comes from: “Never take a drink from a Dolphin, or leave your drink unattended while in the company of Dolphins.” The stories are disturbing, and these links are just the tip of the iceberg:

Shocking.
Deplorable.
EVIL.


And still they smile for the camera... smug bastards.

So, Confused, I think the answer is obvious: Camels are certainly smug, but Dolphins are more smug, and are huge assholes to boot. I hope this helps you, and stay out of the water.

Always Listening,
Dr. Sunday