Joshua Lozano from Fashion Week Is Apparently Very Sensitive

I thought the noise rock scene was the one place (well next to metal, I guess) that was free of whiny, politically correct crybabies; I mean, for fuck’s sake, you’ve got gun loving ex-Marine libertarian Tom Hazelmyer running Amphetamine Reptile, and of course Steve Austin from Today Is the Day, who is anything but PC. But, I guess I be mistaken. Incidentally I got into a little “spat” with a couple of people on a noise rock group on FB. Joshua Lozano is the singer/guitarist for Fashion Week, a band that I honestly enjoyed when I saw ’em open for Unsane at the Union night club in Los Angeles a few months ago. But, sadly, he’s another easily offended, pearl clutching, modern day church lady, as you soon shall see.

It started when some guy with a white guilt complex complained that the noise rock scene is just too damn white and male, so he asked for some recommendations of bands that had non-whites and non-males in them. Curiously, he didn’t ask if there were any bands with trannies or fags in them.

Well, what happens when you fill up your record/CD/MP3 collection with albums based upon the skin color and genitalia of the people in the band, rather than, ya know, the quality of the music? I think you know the answer. Anyway, why let a good troll go to waste? Joshua Lozano comes in later in the thread, and boooy does he come off like someone’s easily offended grandmother. Have fun…

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Pretty funny, eh?

Rise of the Naziphobes

skinhead_leukemiaAll of a sudden, it’s become trendy to “punch Nazis.” Or is that punch “Nazis”? In either case, whether you put the scare quotes around “punch Nazis”, meaning that you only want to do it in a metaphorical sense, but wouldn’t want to face actual assault charges, or if you put them around “Nazis”, meaning that you would actually punch people that you suspect to be Nazis, it’s now hip and cool to randomly attack people based upon the dubious premise that they have views which the progressive and leftist establishment find icky.

For instance, check out this Rick and Morty gif:

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Now, in ANY other instance, this would be considered assault, and the people committing the assault would be criminally charged. If you were to brag to your friends that you did this, and they aren’t sociopaths, they would look at you like you’re the biggest asshole in the world, not as some sort of hero. Not to mention the fact that both of the aggressors in the gif are bigger and more muscular than the person they are assaulting. So, what makes it okay in this case? Well, we KNOW what SUPPOSEDLY makes it okay…

Apparently the notion of “pick on someone your own size” has been replaced with “pick on anyone at all if you think he or she has views you don’t like, especially if it’s some scrawny kid, who happens to have his head shaved and wears red suspenders (sorry, skinheads, I mean braces!) and combat boots and has a swastika on his t-shirt. Also make sure you have a second person with you, so he gets double the beating, and then hock loogies onto him to humiliate him some more.”

This sentiment has always simmered in the minds of most leftists, progressives, and even a few well-meaning, but utterly naive conservatives. But thanks to the recent events in Charottesville, VA, the “punch a Nazi” mania has boiled over, and now the internet is rife with “anti-Nazi” hysteria. Forget that, in a nation of 300,000,000 people, maybe 500 to 2,000 – a total of at most 0.0000006% of the U.S. population – of these so-called “Nazis” gathered in Charlottesville, VA to protest against the removal of the Robert E. Lee statue, getting clearance from local authorities and promise of protection from the ACLU. Some of the protesters wore offensive symbols on their t-shirts, shouted offensive slogans, and made offensive hand gestures, so their otherwise peaceful protest had to be stopped.

And it was. The governor declared a “state of emergency” and forced everyone to disperse, showing what happens to your freedom of speech when the stuff you want to say is not what the powers that be want to hear. One disgruntled, mentally unstable, Nazi obsessed freak was mad as hell and wasn’t going to take it anymore, so he decided to plow his car into a group of counter-protesters, who happened to members of Antifa; as a result, 19 people were injured, and one girl was killed.

Because of the cavalier attitude I had towards the girl who was killed, people accused me of having Nazi sympathies in spite being Jewish. But I honestly CANNOT feel bad for someone who joined a group whose entire purpose is to use violence to stop people from saying things they don’t like. Whether you want to call Antifa a Communist group or a Fascist group is irrelevant. Antifa fancy themselves crusaders against “hate speech”, “Fascism”, “Nazism”, and “white supremacy” and think that it’s okay to start riots, destroy property, and physically attack people in order to “crusade.” Or as human chihuahua Yvette Felarca’s group of anarchists calls itself, “by any means necessary.” The girl who was killed (I don’t know what her name is, and I don’t care) became a martyr to that cause, and now the fight is officially ON against this phantom “white supremacy.”

Do you consider a crazy guy driving into a group of Antifa protesters a form of “white supremacy”? I consider it a crazy guy driving into a group of Antifa protestors. And, as far as I checked, the girl who was killed was white. So, where is this “white supremacy”? I just see mental instability.

But now apparently SJWs, leftists, and all forms of the “perpetually righteous” see a battle ahead of them. Is the guy you just sucker punched a skinhead, or is he bald from chemotherapy? Who cares? Wasn’t that guy you just blinded with pepper spray wearing a red MAGA hat? Wasn’t he asking for it? What about the guy with the confederate flag on his truck or the guy with the iron cross on his t-shirt?

Does it matter? The fact is that all of these COULD be Nazis, and it’s better not to take any chances!

I mean, let’s be honest here; the Nazis have come out of the woodwork, and they are on the attack, sucka!

Nazis in my bed! Nazis in my head! Nazis in my hair! Nazis Nazis everywhere!

Here a Nazi! There a Nazi! Everywhere a Nazi Nazi!

See a Nazi? Punch him! See another Nazi? Punch him too! See a guy hanging out NEXT to a Nazi? Punch him EXTRA hard for not taking the initiative of punching the Nazi himself!

Oh, he didn’t even KNOW the guy and just happened to be standing next to him? Well, he STILL deserved it because he wasn’t LOOKING OUT for a potential Nazi, thus not taking an active stance against Nazis!

And for fuck’s sake, make sure the Nazis you punch are short, scrawny, and defenseless. You wouldn’t want to tangle with anyone who could actually defend himself, would you?

Then again, maybe you would, because then you have a chance at becoming a martyr if you survive the beating.

So remember, if someone has views, wears symbols, or says things you don’t like, he’s committing an act of violence against you, and that gives you the moral clearance to punch, kick, stab, gouge, mutilate and urinate all over him.

Just make sure you enjoy “punching Nazis”, because the more Nazis you punch today, the more you’ll have to punch tomorrow.

My Thoughts on Charlottesville

FIRST, let’s get the unpleasant FACTS out of the way…

Here is Scott Rosendall’s demo reel.

Also, here are a bunch of 1960s garage rock and power pop songs I like.

Isn’t Faith Goldy cute?
faith_goldy Anyway, the bottom line is that, in this world, there are the people who you don’t like and the people you do like. Your best bet is to be around those you do like and not be around those you don’t like.

Anyway, chill out, and drink some cheap liquor.
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You Can’t Bring Your Dick Back, but You Can Kill Muslims

george_takai_militaryI know it’s hard for the precious reader to fathom the idea that the person writing this piece has ever had trouble with the ladiez, but it’s true! There are times when I go out to the bar, talk to a few broads and strike out! I realize that I look unfathomably good, but it indeed does happen. I’m trying to make myself look better through a tough workout and diet regimen, which will flatten my stomach and bring out my chest, so I strike out less. But indeed, there are nights – many of them – where I’m forced to retreat to my room and have sex by my lonesome, coming up with all manner of depraved scenario in my head (I don’t watch very much pornography), giving myself the satisfaction I was unable to obtain via some skank or lonely barfly.

Of course I’m not alone in this regard; most men aren’t Casanovas. And, since our teachers taught us in sex ed that strokin’ the ol’ pole is a natural function, there’s nuthin’ to be ashamed of. In fact, it’s damn near necessary sometimes. Hell, it’s SO necessary, that when you HAVEN’T jerked off in a while, your body will force you to extract some of your milky, white testicle ooze during a wet dream.

And just to gross out the reader even more, when I was drunkenly and sloppily banging Jo the ex-stripper, who does the “fill in puzzles”, and I kept pumping and pumping and pumping, blowing one wad after another and charging back up within seconds before pumping and pumping and pumping some more, she asked the fundamental question about the male sex drive; “aren’t you satisfied?” In fact, she privately messaged me and told me “you were like a machine last night!”

Machine-like fucking notwithstanding, she understood that the male sex organ, the DICK, if you will, CRAVES satisfaction; that rising feeling that keeps getting better and better and better until it peaks and a release occurs, causing semen to shoot out of the tiny slit in the head of the mushroom. When women say, “guys only think with their dicks”, they’re right. The NEED to satisfy the urge is so incredibly strong that guys will lose friendships, get into fights, risk their lives, accumulate great amounts of wealth and build entire civilizations because of it; men have gone to war, and empires have been destroyed because of it. I’m not going to go into the specific seduction techniques a woman would need to control a man via the power of the male sex drive, but let’s put it this way; if you’re a woman of even moderate attractiveness, you pretty much never need to work.

On top of that, many women have NO IDEA how therapeutic sex can be. People say music soothes the savage beast. Wrong; sex does. It releases endorphins, truly taking the “edge off” a shitty day and calming the nerves. In Falling Down, all Michael Douglas needed  was a good blowjob…

So, what happens when you can’t relieve the tension in your loins?

The most striking thing about Born on the 4th of July was how Tom Cruise’s character had lost his dick in Vietnam. The fact that he had to piss through a tube was bad enough, but the hooker he hired was utterly useless. What could she do for him? Rub his back? Lick his ear? Those are the things you do to tease a man before giving him the payoff, that is pleasuring his holy mushroom. Hell, my dick instantly hardens when someone rubs my nipple. All pleasure sensations eventually lead to the dick, and he didn’t have one.

In Sam Fuller’s World War II epic, The Big Red One, after an explosion, one of the characters feels around his crotch and excitedly exclaims, “I still have my dick!” And don’t think there is ANYTHING funny about that. You could lose both arms, both legs, both ears and both eyes, have your tongue sliced off and half your face blown off, but if there’s a woman who can stomach blowing or fucking you, somehow life JUST doesn’t seem so bad.

You’re probably thinking, “yeah, okay, okay, I get it. Guys need their dicks, but what’s you point?”

I’m getting there, asshole!

Trannies are this week’s topic du jour thanks to Donald Trump banning them from serving in the military. And, while I have no problem with this decision, all sorts of issues have been brought up with regards to this sub-sub-sub-sub sect of society, one that nobody even thought about until some mentally ill assholes decided to shove their daddy issues down everyone’s throats.

“Transgenderism” is completely made up bullshit. You’re either a transvestite, which means you enjoy wearing women’s clothing, or you’re a transsexual, which means you had your dick cut off and replaced with an artificial vagina.

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And don’t get me wrong; I love John Waters’ films, but I would NEVER considered Divine to be a woman, and neither does John Waters.

“But, Edwin”, you say, “I STILL don’t understand what this has to do with men needing their dicks.”

Well, dipshit, what happens when a man becomes a transsexual? He done can’t use his dick no mo’. The physical male pleasure center is GONE, baby, and it ain’t NEVER comin’ back. I’ve read that the phony vagina uses the same nerves from the original penis, and the penis head is crafted into a clitoris of sorts, but I highly doubt the same satisfaction is ever achieved again. I mean REAL women, ya know, the ones who were born with a vagina, a uterus, an XX chromosome and the estrogen that makes them so emotional, complain that they have a hard time getting off. So the idea that one could achieve with an artificial vagina the same satisfaction one once achieved with his dick is pretty hard to believe.

Of course, the man who decided to become a “woman” knew all of this, right? Well, you would think. One of the biggest arguments against the “transgender” trend is that there is a 40% rate of suicide associated with it. The most popular and naturally foolhardy explanation for the high rate of suicide among trannies is that they get bullied and harassed to the point of wanting to off themselves.

Think about this VERY carefully… VERY VERY VERY carefully…

WHAT FUCKING GROUP OF PEOPLE HASN’T BEEN HARASSED AND BULLIED AT SOME POINT DURING HUMAN HISTORY??!!

According to this article, the high suicide rate among “transgendered” people has nothing to do with discrimination, but their high level of mental illness and depression. I’ll take it one step further. I would LOVE to see an HONEST study which EXPLICITLY measures the suicide rates of post-op trannies; because, you know what we call pre-op trannies in non-retarded land? MEN WHO DRESS LIKE WOMEN!!!

And remember, once you make the “transition” to the dickless side, there is no going back; no more nights of looking at whatever gives you a boner and relieving tension in a few simple strokes; no more splattering your goo onto your bedroom wall or sex partner’s face; no more endorphin release… it’s ALL gone…

On the other hand, if the ridiculous idea of aiding and abetting a dinky percent of the population pans out though Supreme Court fiat, and trannies are eventually allowed to serve in the military, they could relieve all their pent up sexual frustration by blowing away Islamic terrorists, so I guess it’s a win win.

Racist Chicks Turn Me On!

me_racist_girls_turn_me_onThe easiest ways to make me not want to talk to you if you’re a girl include, but are not limited to, the following:

a.) calling yourself “non-binary” or any of the other made-up, nonsensical gender designations that fall outside of “girl”, “woman”, “gyno-American”, or “person who was born with a vagina, a uterus, and an XX chromosome.”

b.) referring to the poor rube that you roped into a relationship as your “partner”, rather than your boyfriend

c.) asserting your political views over my biological needs.

I remember telling a former lady friend – oh hell, it was Sara B, who recently tagged me in a Facebook post telling our old friends to avoid me because I’m “raciss” or some shit – about a date I went on, where the girl said something along the lines of “I don’t have a problem with the good ones”, referring to black people. She could have been referring to Jews, but casually racist girls – who I find pretty hot, as the title of this piece says  – typically don’t think deeply enough to consider whether Jews are a religion, race or ethnicity; to them I’m just a white guy.

As a matter of fact, I was hanging out with some friends, and this cute chick saw me pull out my old flip phone and asked me if I’m Jewish, implying that I’m too cheap to get a smart phone. I said, “yeah… was that just a guess?” And she said, “I just kinda figured.” Then we had a brief discussion about whether it would make more sense for me to have already owned a smart phone since, given my background, I can allegedly afford all of the latest and greatest in technology (and I did eventually get a smart phone, but that’s besides the point). Regardless, this wasn’t a value judgment on her part; just a curious observation. NUTTIN’ WRONG WITH THAT!!!

Then I asked the big one: “do you consider me white?” She seemed rather bemused by my question. I’ll let the AltRighters in the audience ponder what her answer was.

But anyway, I was telling Sara about this date, and her response to my date’s claim of “I don’t have a problem with the good ones” was so typical of the SJW dogooder: “HOW COULD YOU DATE SOMEONE LIKE THAT?! OH MY GAWD, I CAN’T BELIEVE PEOPLE THINK LIKE THAT IN (insert the current year)! Dude, I hope you really consider not seeing this person. Or if you do, at least tell her how big of a racist piece of shit she is, and THEN don’t see her again.”

Easy for you to say, toots. You may deliberately be trying to make yourself look as ugly as possible with the weird, unnatural hair colors and your nerd glasses and your preachy, off-putting attitude, but that hasn’t stopped you from having an army of guys lining up to date you.

Me? On a good day, I’m a 7.5 and can land a decent looking chick if I put a modicum of effort into it; in fact a second after I wrote the last sentence, I caught a cute Asian chick checking me out. HOWEVER, I don’t have it as easy as you. SO DON’T TRY TO TELL ME WHO I CAN AND CAN’T DATE, YOU SELF-RIGHTEOUS BITCH.

But then it got me thinking; there IS a certain charm that comes from a girl who unashamedly makes statements like, “I don’t have a problem with the good ones” or asks questions like “are you Jewish?” I find that level of innocence and lack of ideological bias to be incredibly cute and refreshing. And honestly, do you really think, when someone says “I have no problem with the goods ones”, that he or she has any particular malice behind his or her words, or that he or she wish to do harm to the people who he or is talking about? If you answered “yes” to either of these questions, I highly suggest you seek treatment for your paranoia.

I remember reading an OKCupid profile where a girl insisted that no black men contact her. Horrible and racist, isn’t it? Well, I messaged her, and it turns out that she actually dated a black man for several years, and in the last year of their relationship, he beat the living shit out of her. I think, in her case, we can give her a pass. Her experiences with a black man, one who I’m assuming was more Tupac Shakur, than Sidney Poitier, has forever colored (no pun intended) her experience with the “black experience.” If you blame HER for her “racism”, YOU’RE a domestic violence apologist. She also complained that she only gets hit on by blacks. Sweetie, with an enormous – and dare I say, rather cute – bubble butt like that, what do you expect? I’ll be your knight in shiny Jewish armor, but you gotta stop with the country music. At least the modern kind.

But the bottom line is twofold. The first is that dates are SO MUCH MORE fun when they don’t turn into political debates. And the second is that, provided a woman hasn’t been brainwashed by the the Marxist propaganda in the media or the university she goes to, she is an ideological blank slate; the only strong opinions women hold are those that directly affect them and their little worlds. Isn’t the recent “red pilling” of longtime internet feminist Laci Green a perfect example of this? She spent years vituperating against “patriarchy” and “rape culture”, and then an anti-feminist man comes along and sweeps her off her feet, and now she’s no longer a feminist.

My tattoo artist and friend told me, “if a woman is into something really cool, thank her previous boyfriend.”

Geez, I’ll give women more credit than that. Thus far, at 33 years of age, I’ve dated, slept with and/or kinda fallen in love with a corrections officer, an oral hygienist, a World War II history major, a nerdy librarian, a tattoo artist, a school teacher, a restaurant cook, a bunch of women who I have no idea what they did/do, and two ex-strippers, one of whom has realistic looking fake boobs and does “fill-in puzzles” (hey, Jo!).

None of them EVER tried to police my language, and many surprised me with their rather course choice of words regarding various races and/or ethnic groups; Tasha, my super hot former manager at the Sunglass Hut, which I rudely quit without giving any notice, blatantly said that she doesn’t like Mexicans after someone (who you can assume is Mexican) tried to steal a pair of sunglasses. Just like that! Can you imagine what would have happened if I recorded what she said and reported it? When I was in college, my ex Melissa (the chick that fucked Dave “Oderus Urungus” Brockie of Gwar), printed up the lyrics to “Nasty Boy” by Notorious BIG, taped them to the door of her dorm room and posted “Celebrate Black history month” above it. Just in case you’re wondering, here are some of the lyrics:

Then we came home, mad messages was on my phone
Bitch named Simone
Screamin, she fiendin for the semen
Me bein the man that I am
Took it to her condo pronto
Half Indian, I called her Tonto
Roll the chron’chron’ in the dark pronto
Few puffs, eyes got low
And off to the bedroom we go
Sex is drama, head is trauma
Ripped pajamas, I’ma stay ’til tomorrow
Satisfying all my needs twice
With whipped cream, handcuffs and ice
The bitch is nice, word is bond
Can’t wait to put my niggas on, what? What?

She was pretty funny.

The Red Pill

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I’m truly thrilled that The Red Pill, the documentary from Cassie Jaye about her “journey” from being a feminist to not being a feminist via the Men’s Rights movement, has received an 8.7 on IMDB and a 90% on Rotten Tomatoes. Honestly, I am. It means people are opening their eyes and starting to listen to something other than the mainstream, “women is so oppressed” narrative.

But let’s be honest here; unless you’re an anorexic, nerdy sissy boy, who only hung out with kinda cute, glasses wearing hipster gurlz, the ones that LOVED being your friend, but made you wonder why YOU’RE always being friend-zoned in favor of guys with a fraction of your intelligence, and THEN made you feel GUILTY for complaining about it, there is nothing particularly groundbreaking about The Red Pill. The movie treats feminism as if it’s the main problem in our society, rather than one of the many weapons used by the cultural Marxist and globalist beast to try to destroy Western civilization; in fact, the notion that it could even BE a left/right, or rather globalist/anti-globalist issue, isn’t even touched upon. I’ve never considered myself a Men’s Rights activist. Many of the figureheads in the men’s movement don’t even see it as a left/right issue. I’ve actually known many “anti-feminist” men who don’t realize that feminism IS a form of leftism, and that supporting anyone on the left IS supporting the very ideology they say they’re against. Or to put it more succinctly, A Voice for Men editor Dean Esmay’s support for Hillary Clinton over Donald Trump in the 2016 election is tantamount to a civil rights leader in the 1960s supporting George Wallace.

There is a segment that lasts all of one minute – among 120 of them – that addresses how, in the 60s, the equality warriors switched their target from capitalism to patriarchy, but it’s so dinky, that one wonders why Jaye even bothered putting it in the movie in the first place.

But if we’re going to REALLY be addressing the elephants in the room, and if above all else, film is a visual medium, where the images are intended to elicit a reaction, it’s actually kind of infuriating watching shots of the cutie Cassie Jaye, who resembles a plumper, rounder Christina Applegate – don’t worry, Cassie, I wouldn’t make you lose 15 lbs. to have a seat on MY casting couch – interviewing pathetic looking, depressing old men, as they tell their stories about losing everything to a system that’s stacked against them.  I mean, JUST THE FACT that she’s IN the frame with them getting all misty eyed, listening to them talk about how they got royally screwed, while not addressing how incredibly privileged she is in our society by being blessed with hotness, struck me as painfully disingenuous. I mean, sheeyit, lady, you may be a narcissist, but do you have to make it that obvious? But who knows? Maybe this will lead to other women joining in an anti-feminist insurrection.

In The Red Pill, Jaye interviews key figures in the Men’s Rights movement; honestly the only ones I recognized were Paul Elam, Dean Esmay and Karen Straughan; I’m too lazy to look up the rest of ’em. One of them was a 60s male feminist, but changed tracks when he realized all that “freedom” women achieved by tossing off the “shackles” of their normal, middle class lives in favor of becoming spinsters and cat ladies didn’t provide the satisfaction they once imagined it would. But basically, we learn about all of the typical men’s rights talking points; women who trick men by not taking their birth control and enslaving them to a life of child support payments; men who see their coffers depleted in custody battles only to get to see their kids a couple hours a week; female on male spousal abuse not being taken seriously; male rape not being taken seriously; lighter prison sentences for women for the same crimes men committed; men working life threatening jobs to provide for their families only to be told they’re oppressing women; the male/female wage gap myth; and of course there’s a bit of male circumcision thrown in at the end for all the mondo fans. Don’t tell the Jews, though; they may get this movie shut down in your town (psst, I’m allowed to say that because I am one)!!!

We’re also given the counterpoints to these arguments from some harpy at Ms. magazine, some gay Jewish guy and of course the loud, shrill and obnoxious Big Red, who kinda resembles my former friend Sarah.

But another thing that bothered me about the movie is that it didn’t really address how feminism negatively affects women. Maybe Cassie Jaye hasn’t learned about hypergamy yet or that the only things feminism really accomplished was making it easier for men to get laid since it made women sluttier, while boosting the sales for antidepressants and keeping pet store owners in business. At VERY least, Jaye addresses that getting catcalled and having to look pretty (aww, poor baby) don’t really seem to be that big of problems in comparison with getting crushed to death in a coal mine avalanche, getting blown to bits on a battle field or having your life savings drained. And hey, in about 20 years, once the flesh starts to sag and wrinkles start to show, she won’t even HAVE to worry about getting catcalled.

A decade ago, when I was at Grand Valley State University, I picked up a book from the women’s center called Transforming a Rape Culture. At the time, I thought it was the stupidest thing I’d ever seen, and most people balked at the suggestion that all men are rapists or predisposed to commit rape. Also, apparently it wasn’t considered “oppressive” to refer to slutty women as sluts; it was just honest. In fact, I LOVE sluts! They put out the quickest, and thanks to all that female empowerment, they’re not just damaged women with daddy issues! All of this was before Obama was even President. A lot has changed since then. Men can now put on dresses and call themselves women; women who get gang-banged by twenty dudes are considered “empowered”; men who ask women on dates can be accused of sexual assault; man, has society progressed! Thank you Cassie Jaye for setting the clock back about ten years.

Boys Are Boys, Girls Are Choice and Girls Will Never Be Boys

If the left can politicize everything, than goddamn it, so can I! Below is a video of the Monks performing their classic “Boys Are Boys and Girls Are Choice.”

The song is from their 1966 LP, Blank Monk Time, one of the many fine additions to the more obscure cannon of 60s rock, right along side The Village Fugs Sing Ballads of Contemporary Protest, Point of Views and General Dissatisfaction and The Fugs by the Fugs, The Psychedelic Sounds of the 13th Floor Elevators and Easter Everywhere by the 13 Floor Elevators, The Seeds and A Web of Sound by the Seeds and Here Are the Sonics!!! and Boom by the Sonics.

You can read all of the Monks’ biographical trivia at their Wikipedia page. The important thing to know is that they dressed like monks when they performed, and they had a unique approach to the two and half minute song formula that focused on rhythmic hooks and utilized the fun “chinka-chinka” sound of Dave Day’s banjo, somehow making the songs so stupidly catchy that there are times when I could listen to Black Monk Time on repeat for days at a clip. Also their sound influenced the deliberately repetitive “vamping” of German “kraut rock” bands like Can and Neu!, and the Fall site the Monks as a huge influence and have covered several of their songs.

Now, obviously, there’s nothing political about the song “Boys Are Boys and Girls Are Choice”; it’s just a song about the joy of being a guy going after a girl (presumably when it was more fun and wouldn’t get you accused of rape). But in the current year, when “transgender” freaks are pushing an agenda that says a person can now choose his, her or its gender, rather being ASSIGNED a gender at birth by, ya know, having a set of cock ‘n’ balls or a wet, oozing vagina, the song BECOMES political.

On top of that, it celebrates heterosexuality; I mean, if you’re a straight guy, girls are choice, aren’t they? Provided they’re not fat or ugly, that is. And don’t get mad at me for saying that; being fat and ugly are problems that are relatively easy to fix.

Ironically the people at Light in the Attic records, who released phenomenal vinyl and CD reissues of Black Monk Time, probably think I’m a “transphobic” bigot for writing this piece. Or maybe they too secret believe in the song’s message and are trying to push the Monks’ evil and vile agenda.