T
Testin da Cable
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First off I must mention that this isn't about the muzak that bears the atrocious tag of 'nu-metal' [though I can diss that too if you like], it's about the average 'fan'. Since my hols started, more or less last thursday, I've been going out every evening in a dedicated effort to get my alcohol purged of anything even slightly resembling blood. While said effort is taking place, I observe the people around me...
Notice the fact that it is now the 'in thing' to dye one's hair violent colours. Blonde is passé, we want red, green, purple, blue. And spike it. Spikes rule, but only big ones. Size seems to matter again. We'll need big green spikes on our head to function normally. K. Now we accessorize. Our subject is bearing a large fluorescent-yellow bag, draped over his shoulder, a fly-eye model pair of sunglasses with yellow lenses. He either had a skin disorder or he is wearing several black bangles on his left arm. Clothes now. He's wearing baggy 'skate/gangsta' style pants and a hawaii type shirt. He is moving violently to a korn song, and we notice that he is dancing to the high line, not the bassline. Because of this he is moving about 4 times faster than everyone else, and sweating like a dog. When the chorus drops he starts to jump; we have a vivid image of him decapitating himself: there is a hanging fan about four feet above his head. He'll have to work on it though.
Now here it is. Why is TdC blethering on about this young man he noticed in a club somewhere? Well, our subject is going to make tracks. It's past two, he has to go to school in a few hours. His gf [who incidentally looks quite the opposite of him: babyT, jeans, short brown hair. a glint in her face hints of a bullnose piercing] is bitching that she wants to go home. He is busy putting on a hooded sweater in such a way that his hair doesn't get dishevelled. Printed on the back in large white caps is the text "FUCK THE SYSTEM". Now wait a minute. The system? Surely our lad knows that purchasing a hoodie in a trendy store will not lead to the fucking of the system? Does he know at all? Does he realise that the so-called system thrives on kids like him, who follow the trends scrupulously with painstaking attention to detail? Ah well, I won't cry over lost ideals, not while my brain is dancing on redbull-induced sparks of caffeine goodness.
Notice the fact that it is now the 'in thing' to dye one's hair violent colours. Blonde is passé, we want red, green, purple, blue. And spike it. Spikes rule, but only big ones. Size seems to matter again. We'll need big green spikes on our head to function normally. K. Now we accessorize. Our subject is bearing a large fluorescent-yellow bag, draped over his shoulder, a fly-eye model pair of sunglasses with yellow lenses. He either had a skin disorder or he is wearing several black bangles on his left arm. Clothes now. He's wearing baggy 'skate/gangsta' style pants and a hawaii type shirt. He is moving violently to a korn song, and we notice that he is dancing to the high line, not the bassline. Because of this he is moving about 4 times faster than everyone else, and sweating like a dog. When the chorus drops he starts to jump; we have a vivid image of him decapitating himself: there is a hanging fan about four feet above his head. He'll have to work on it though.
Now here it is. Why is TdC blethering on about this young man he noticed in a club somewhere? Well, our subject is going to make tracks. It's past two, he has to go to school in a few hours. His gf [who incidentally looks quite the opposite of him: babyT, jeans, short brown hair. a glint in her face hints of a bullnose piercing] is bitching that she wants to go home. He is busy putting on a hooded sweater in such a way that his hair doesn't get dishevelled. Printed on the back in large white caps is the text "FUCK THE SYSTEM". Now wait a minute. The system? Surely our lad knows that purchasing a hoodie in a trendy store will not lead to the fucking of the system? Does he know at all? Does he realise that the so-called system thrives on kids like him, who follow the trends scrupulously with painstaking attention to detail? Ah well, I won't cry over lost ideals, not while my brain is dancing on redbull-induced sparks of caffeine goodness.