Reader request: Mucky Pup

I never really paid attention to Mucky Pup back in the day, but reader Savage made a request in the comments of our earlier Nocturnus post, and if there is anything that defines us here at Metal Inquisition, it's customer service. In fact, at one of our innovation retreats in 2008, we rewrote our corporate vision statement as follows:

The mission of Metal Inquisition is to provide society with superior products and services by developing innovations and solutions that improve the quality of life and satisfy customer needs, and to provide bloggers with meaningful work and advancement opportunities, and investors with a superior rate of return.

With that in mind, we enter the bizarre and frightening world of Mucky Pup.

I don't really know a damn thing about this band other than that they have a dumb name and I never gave them a chance back in the day because of it. Also that some of them were in Dog Eat Dog, who I listened to a little bit.




U Stink But I Heart U
Apparently this song was their big break, and I actually vaguely remember it. I was a huge fan of the comic strip Bloom County when I was a kid, including the hair metal band Billy & The Boingers that featured Bill The Cat. The guy who created the comic strip held a contest in which he asked bands to record their version of Billy & The Boingers' hit song "U Stink But I Heart U." Mucky Pup's version won, and was included on a flexi that came with one of the Bloom County books (which I had).

I'm not exactly sure what it mean when your band's biggest accomplishment is winning a jokey contest from a comic strip, but it is safe to say that's Mucky Pup's biggest claim to fame. Maybe they can tell me why Sarge is always so mean to Beetle Bailey!! And for christ's sake, why can't Blondie let Dagwood enjoy a sandwich in his hammock with nagging him about chores?? Fucking bitch.



Hippies don't like water
Aside from "U Stink But I Heart U" I don't remember any other Mucky Pup songs, so I fired up Youtube and checked it out. WTF is this shit?! It makes Brokencyde seem dignified, respectable, and stylish! Then again, I have to remind myself that this was 1991 and things were very different back then. Hypercolor wasn't ironic, Living Color thought it was perfectly acceptable to wear Body Glove wetsuits on stage, and MDC had turned into the hardcore version of Weird Al (see "Tofu Spaghetti"). The Youtube description notes that MTV never aired this video... weird! I can't think of a single reason why they wouldn't air it 24/7!!

Ugh I don't even know what to say... 1000000x worse than Brokencyde!

Also, "hippies" were still a relevant part of the cultural lexicon, with bands like Enuf Z'Nuf blending really shitty hair metal with a particularly superficial, irritating take on the 60s. Apparently Mucky Pup did not like this, so they made a novelty song about it. I'd like to think of it as an abominable, cringeworthy combination of Ugly Kid Joe and Murphy's Law... only without the cool parts of Murphy's Law like hitting people with an 8 ball in a sock, and with more fatties.

It gets worse when the fatty starts skanking and you can see his enormous, pasty thighs shake like a bowl full of vanilla jello

From the perspective of someone writing this in 2009, it seems quaint and a little charming to complain about hippies like we did so vigorously back in the 80s and early 90s. And maybe it is a little naive, but it reminds me of my salad days. It makes me long for simpler times, before screamo crunk and beardos, before scene hair and one-man MySpace drum machine goregrind bands. I just want to put a Scatterbrain tape in my Walkman, put on my baja jacket, and go skateboard behind Safeway. Either that or go smoke weed on a rock in the woods and listen to Pantera. Instead, I have to do my taxes and write a proposal for market research on Crest toothpaste and I am listening to Lady Gaga. Sigh...



Mr. Hand
This song is about how the singer masturbates a lot, presumably because the ladies aren't checking for him. It is actually sort of catchy, once again in a "poor man's 'Crucial Barbeque'" kind of way. I probably would have thought it was pretty funny in 7th or 8th grade. But I also thought it was a really good idea to wear red sweatpants, a Forced Entry shirt, a Batman hat and puffy white high tops from K-Mart (the brand was "Jox") six days of the week.

Between his physique, wardrobe, and hair I have no idea why he isn't drowning in pussy

Apparently the world had a big appetite for comedy metal in the 90s, and one of the staples of the genre is wearing oversize, zany Dr. Suess hats. The drummer for a local comedy punk/metal band called Dumt wore one every fucking time they played and it made me want to kill him even though I loved Dumt a lot. Actually, I still do.

These hats fill me with rage in a way that very few things are capable of

The Dr. Suess hats remind of other early 90s fashion mishaps like those stripey tights that were so popular at Lollapalooza. I always wanted to fuck the art fag chicks in my 8th grade art class that wore Doc Martens with stripey tights and listened to Skinny Puppy and Alien Sex Fiend.

Anyway, this song is fucking terrible, I don't even have the patience to look on Rapidshit for a copy of their album (or albums... did they have more than one?). This is like the equivalent of playing old NES games for the first time. Maybe if it was 1988 you would have looked past their many obvious and serious flaws, but it is 2009 and this shit sucks by today's standards.




Dog Eat Dog - "No Fronts"
I guess some people from Mucky Pup were in Dog Eat Dog, but I'm not looking it up because I just want to be done writing about this awful shit. I used to listen to this band a bit, but I haven't heard them for years and they are much fucking worse than I remembered them being. Apparently they felt like they hadn't made big enough assholes of themselves in Mucky Pup and decided to start a new band in which they would do the most embarrassing shit possible, then record it onto a CD which they would sell.

Look at him rap aggressively into the fisheye lens! He's so angry/authentic!

Listening to this song for the first time in years, the main thing I noticed is how these are maybe the very worst lyrics I have ever heard, even surpassing Brokencyde's "hardcore shit make u feel the toxic" line. I will highlight the parts that make me cringe and vomit the most:

No fronts no tricks no soap box politics
No guns just blunts we kick this just for fun

We come with the fat joints
To uplift the moods
Big up to people catchin' on this groove
This is Dog Eat Dog not a snitch or a snoop
I might chew a bone but don't call me pooch
We're not braggin - No
Are we laggin - Never
I can already see we got your tail waggin'
I could doggy bad ya
Or have you for lunch
The answer is no now - who fronts?

Introducing the kids who get loose
Microphone check one to the deuce
Deuce to the tre relax and parlay
With the 4-5-6 we roll hits
Flip the script to move your hips
Flavor we kick the boom to the bip
The boom to the bap ABK type fat
Strapped with crazy herbs and that's that

Alright kid what ya want ya get
S.G. Dog Eat Dog represent
You know the time so act like you know
Listen to the way this ill shit flow
We travel around all boro, any city
Some got beef but they wont get to me
If you come correct and your vibes are true
Peace to your crew
We're looking out for you

Holy fuck that was hard to bear, I seriously thought about smashing my monitor a few times just to make it stop. It's like a bunch of band geeks heard "Urban Discipline" and decided they wanted to give being tough a shot... only they added fucking trumpets to the mix, so it didn't work out so well. The video is full of the most annoying 90s cliches like flannels, fisheye shots, snowboards, and beanies. It's like a Saturday Night Live parody of post-Beastie Boys 90s culture, only it's all too real. Do not want.

Conclusion
I like Ugly Kid Joe and Murphy's Law better, fuck this band. Some things deserved to die with the 90s.

Scene archetypes: People who annoy me

You can say what you want about us here at Metal Inquisition. You can call us assholes, posers, old, whatever- and you'd probably be right. But don't ever say that we don't love you, because we do. We are here to help, like true friends. One of the toughest parts about being a friend is telling your friends when they are being a retard. It's tough, but you have to! With that in mind, we are willing to bet that the majority of you guys are retards, and the best thing we can do for you is to help you identify it so you can start to correct your problem. Admitting it is the first step. This is far from a comprehensive list of all the annoying d-bags in the scene, but it should get you started.

"I love Jesu!!"

The Beardo/Relapse Dork
Let's start with an easy target. You know this guy... he says shit like "Dude I just got the new Gridlink 11" EP on 180 gram colored vinyl, it's a Japan-only, hand-numbered limited edition of 1. They haven't even written it yet, but I have it. It's amazing!!"* Please note how much they love to call things "amazing." It's a good example of how the defining characteristic of the Beardo is that they are way too fucking enthusiastic about the dumb shit they are into and won't shut up about it because they are socially awkward dorks who have no ability to detect your complete lack of interest in their nerdy bullshit (such as obscure black metal).

Also, you can be a Beardo without actually having a beard, although of course that makes you even more of an asshole if you do have one. The beard is merely a symbol that you have no ability to understand how the world sees you, because if you did you would throw yourself on a sword in shame before you had time to get out the trimmer.

Psyopus: Do they have a noise side-project?? If not, that's the only thing that could make them bigger Relapse Dorks.

Then there is the Beardo's kissing cousin, the Relapse Dork. The differences are subtle, with the main one being that the Relapse Dork is like half Wanker, half Beardo. Rather than beating off to pictures of obscure Hydra Head releases like Beardos, they follow Brutal Truth around on tour, collecting Dan Lilker's pubes that fall off onto the rims of the urinals in venue restrooms and saving them in plastic baggies so they can brag about it on the Relapse board while they gush about the Human Remains demo.

* I stole the "they haven't even written it yet, but I have it" line from Lifesucksdie #3

I was trying to find a more original picture than Mosh Girl, but, well, it pretty much says it all. See how grossed out everybody is when girls try to act like boys??

The Tuff Girl
She's so different from all the other girls!! She's just like one of the guys!! She's up front at all the shows moshing her, uh, balls off! Don't treat her like a girl or she will punch you in the face because she's tuff! See, she has a Terror shirt and brass knuckle necklace to prove it! You can also tell from her chest piece and surly, unfriendly demeanor. I knew a girl like this back in the day. I went to like Taco Bell or something with her, and was about to sit down when she told me, "Wait let's sit over there, I don't like sitting with my back to the door." I laughed and said, "Who the fuck are you, Billy The Kid?!" Anyway, these girls suck because they are like the worst of both worlds: all the annoying parts about dudes in the mannish body of an ugly girl.

If you want to show all the boys that you like punk, this is a much better option than trying to be tuff. Just smile and hold my coat while I dance.

Look, I get it... girls can listen to metal and hardcore too. Nothing wrong with that. I hung out with this 22 year-old girl last week who was listening to Old Man's Child while she drove me around in her Acura (this really happened). But ladies, you really don't have to try as hard as Tuff Girl if all you want is male approval because your daddy didn't love you enough. Just stand around looking cute and giggling demurely at my jokes, that's all I ask of you.

He looks so happy, willfully ignorant that Fear Factory ever released an album after Demanufacture

Mr. Old School
You could rightly accuse some of us here at Metal Inquisition of being Mr. Old School- probably everybody except me, since I mostly listen to Forever The Sickest Kids, not metal. To Mr. Old School, they stopped making good metal records somewhere between 1992 and 1994 and anything else is trendy garbage and/or simply flew under their radar.

For example, I told Lucho a few years ago that "Don't Care" was one of the best Obituary songs. "Hmm, I don't think I know that one," he said. I told him it was from "World Demise" and he said "Oh, well I never heard their newer albums," and I was like "Dude that shit came out in like '94." You see how frustrating it is to deal with Mr. Old School?? It's like talking to your grandparents who think Eisenhower is still president and ask you who is going to be on Johnny Carson tonight. As far as Lucho is concerned, metal died when they stopped publishing The Wild Rag... my friend, the world keeps turning.

I'll be honest, this photo has nothing to do with Mr. Old School... but wtf? Why so serious?

Mr. Old School isn't really annoying, just disappointing. He just stopped trying. And I get that: at some point music isn't really the center of your life anymore, especially metal. But Mr. Old School is like the dude who gets married, then instantly gets fat and never wears anything but sweat pants. Sure, he can let down his hair a bit because who does have to impress, but his wife is like "This isn't the guy I married!" and walks out on his ass. I'll never walk out on Lucho, but I do wish he would buy jeans from H&M or Forever 21 instead of the Gap and Old Navy (that's not a joke, it's seriously where he gets his jeans). He could probably wear size 4 girl jeans without too many problems.

Thanks to ironic hipsters, these kids look like they should be in a band that's opening for Atreyu

The Dinosaur Rocker
Did you know there are people in the 2K9 that actually listen to Manowar, Iron Maiden, Saxon, Keel, and other shit that I am pretty sure Confederate soldiers jammed on the way to do battle in the civil war?? It's true, they are called Dinosaur Rockers. An even more decrepit and out of touch version of Mr. Old School, they are frozen in time like so many denim-vested insects in amber. Like the doddering fossils that shamble through the halls of nursing homes, waiting to die, Dinosaur Rockers have no idea where they are or what's happening around them. I can't even laugh at them, all I can do is shake my head in pity, hoping that the lord will call their souls home soon.

You don't have to be old to be a Dinosaur Rocker, just boring and weird

Look, I don't expect everybody to be into Winds of Plague or whatever else is trendy at the moment (although to be fair they are some 2K8.5 shit so already kind of played out), but I seriously don't understand how anybody can non-ironically listen to Bathory, Venom, Accept or whatever. I'm sure those bands were great in 1982 because everything else was wretched at the time, but that shit sounds so lame when you listen to it today. Dinosaur metal sucks!! It's so boring and slow, it sounds like something my mom would listen to. I can just imagine her coming home from the mall, Van Morrisson/Loudness split 7" in hand. New Yorkment said it best on their MySpace:

NO PUSSY ASSED OLDSCHOOL BULLSHIT!! FUCK OLD METAL IRON MAIDEN N MOTERHEAD IS UNBRUTAL SHITTY DINOSAUR METAL!!!!!

Wankers: the only people dumb enough to be in a band because they actually like music, not to get laid

The Wanker
Remember in the 90s when ska got popular, and every annoying redhead that played trombone in jazz band all of a sudden got to be in a "cool" band? Yeah me too. Well, The Wanker is what happens when that kid discovers metal, and it's just as irritating as ska was. Actually it's worse because at least Evan from Mindrot played in Save Ferris so there was at least one cool person in that scene. (Can anyone confirm the rumor that his license plate said MINDROT back then?)

Ugh, look how seriously this jerk takes his music. Die in a fire already.

The Wanker takes everything really seriously, probably because they all suffer from mild Asperger's Syndrome. For example they are the humorless turds that hate all my posts on here because I don't write 9,000 words about how Corner and Mekong Delta are the best bands to ever exist, or a fucking tutorial on how to play Spastic Ink songs on your Chapman Stick. They rival Ani DeFranco fans in their ability to ruin a good time by taking offense at absolutely anything and everything that touches their incredibly thin skin- especially if you praise a band that isn't intellectual enough for their refined sensibilities!!

Speaking of things I would destroy if I had access to the Nocturnus time machine...

But I can't blame them. I'd probably be pissed at the world too if I spent all my time holed up in my room, painstakingly transcribing Behold the Arcoptus songs, only taking my clammy hands off the neck of my guitar long enough to eat a bowl of Fruity Pebbles and see if I won a piece of Sean Reinert's used toilet paper on eBay. I'd be angry if I threw away thousands of hours of my life on playing music only to realize that I wasn't ever going to get laid by playing technical deathcore. In fact it's worse than that: remember in the original Batman movie when he is getting attacked by a shark, but spritzes it with a little Bat Shark Repellent and it runs away instantly? That's what playing mathcore is like, only to hot girls. It's like vagina repellent. They can tell that you'd rather fuck your guitar than them, and that your balls smell bad.

I found this image with that caption already added. I love the internet!

Add your own in the comments!!
I fully realize this only scratches the surface when it comes to describing all the different kinds of annoying people in the scene. It's late and I'm out of funny lines, but I especially wanted to make fun of deathcore kids. Please help, it shouldn't be that challenging!

Winds of Plague invent wigger black metalcore

Suffocation and Dying Fetus shirts, New Era hats cocked at a jaunty angle, puffy vest... we have a confirmed siting of slam wiggers!

We get a lot of press releases and stuff in our inbox, and usually I don't even bother to read them before I shout a curse at the sender, but for some reason I chose to read the latest piece of poorly-written, uninspired spam from Century Media and found the latest video from some band called Winds of Plague inside. I never thought it would happen to me, but my mind is officially blown. Many of you experienced this feeling when you read my epic post on screamo crunk a while back: half "get off my lawn" and half "wat."



As you can see from the video, they somehow manage to combine elements of tough guy hardcore, goth, cheesy commercial black metal, deathcore, and wiggerish arm movements. Look, I get it. I love Bleeding Through and wigger slam as much as the next guy. I've been on 18 Visions and Suffocation's dick since forever. But some things just aren't meant to be combined! Nobody is asking for a beef jerky-flavored energy drink, and nobody asked for wigger black metalcore!

This guy doesn't love "mashup culture" like David Gensler

Stop inventing new genres, you crazy kids!! Next thing you know we'll have an neoclassical industrial rapabilly fad up in here, and nobody wants that to happen. I remember when the Judgment Night soundtrack came out: I was terrified at the thought of more Dinosaur Jr/Del Tha Funkee Homosapien collabos, and I'm getting a similar feeling of dread as I watch this video. Will the charts of 2019 be full of Dimmu Borgir/Daddy Yankee mashups? If so, bring me the Nocturnus time machine so I can kill myself in the crib and be spared the agony of witnessing such a world.

Southern Californians or Bavarians? You be the judge.

At first I was convinced this band must be European, because only Euros and the Japanese are capable of combining exaggerated stereotypes of American subcultures into a giant, ridiculous, shit sandwich like this without a hint of self-awareness. They're clearly not Japanese, so I said to myself "There's no way these fucking retards are from anywhere but Belgium, Germany, or Holland." But then I looked on their MySpace and saw that they are from Southern California and I said, "Oh, right. Yeah, that works too." I love Southern California a lot, but let's be honest: the people there aren't the best at knowing when they are being giant d-bags. I mean this is the place that brought us Tapout, Affliction and Kottonmouth Kingz.

Here is what Winds of Plague's fans look like. Note his Brazilian jiu-jitsu shirt- he's sure to come down with Tommy Victor's Disease when he gets older.

I was doing an image search to find some pictures to make fun of, and found this douchelord. It turns out that he actually went to the same high school as I did, which probably is not a surprise to MI readers in that you all know that I am also a douchelord. In any case, if you happen to be from the Northwest like I am you can LOL at this guy for many things, not the least of which is moving to Spokane. Really?! Who moves to Spokane? Isn't that like a perfectly healthy person going to the doctor's office, rummaging through the biohazardous waste container and jamming a syringe full of AIDS into his eye as hard as he can??

It wouldn't be a Southern California metalcore band without a slightly below-average chick with a muffintop playing keyboards, now would it?

Oh, and did I mention that (to nobody's surprise), I think this band is awesome and want to hang out with them?? Seriously, this song fucking jams and I hope to catch them on tour with Brokencyde and Crazy Town this summer.

What will they think of next?

I am sometimes hesitant to include much information about my private life here at Metal Inquisition. Why? Because I feel that my opinion as an authority in all things metal could be harmed should the masses know more about me, and how I roll. You may have heard that this is one of the key criticisms about The Economist that many people have. Most articles are not credited in that magazine, so no one knows who wrote them. Similarly, for all you know, I may live in a trailer park and drive a Delorean.


I could also be a fatty, emo, gangsta', goth, gender neutral thing...you never know.


So, against my better judgment I will now let you into my private life. I will now tell you something about myself, and here it is: I own a dog. My dog is a fantastic part of my life, and I love her very much. I usually behave rather idiotically when I'm around her, and some people probably get embarrassed and cringe when they see how I talk to her. Now that you have a clearer picture as to just how big of douchebag I am, I can share this new line of products that recently surfaced on the interweb. I can also tell you that even though I'm an asshole, and I like my dog way too much...I still think this is an idiotic line of products...and anyone who buys these deserves a long, painful death. What am I talking about? Garmutt, metal clothing for dogs of course!




The company is owned by one of the guys from Dillinger Escape Plan, apparently. Good for him, I guess he's trying to come up with some sort of back up plan for his failed musical gravy train, but this project will fail also. How can it not? I'm probably one of about eight people on earth who is a total idiot about their dog AND likes Metallica (kinda'), and I'm not willing to buy this crap...that means that a grand total of seven people worldwide are left as potential customers.

Look at that dog's face, that's how I looked after having heard the newest Metallica album too.

On a similar note, there's also metal clothing for kids and babies now. Why? Think back to when you were a kid, would you have liked it if your parents made you wear ABBA, Rod Stewart or Engelbert Humperdinck clothing? Personally, I would have hated it, and rightfully so. That was their musical taste, not mine. Why on earth do metal individuals think its any different for them now that they're parents or pet owners? Your dog may hate Metallica (he/she probably does actually), and your kid probably hates them also. You know how you hated it when your mom made you dress up, and take off your Maiden shirt back in the day? I know I did. Every metal kid I knew back then swore up and down that they would never become the opressor. Now we're all older, and look what's happening. Damn it all to hell.



Okay I get it, you're a hip, cool dad and you feel that you want to dress your kid accordingly. You're way different from the lame suburban dads with Volvo and Subaru station wagons. You're not a yuppie who drinks Starbucks coffee ans shops at REI. Well good for you, but here's a thought...it's a baby, not a godamn doll for you to dress up you stupid asshole. Babies should dress like babies, for the same reason that as adults we don't dress as babies, and for the same reason that a 5 year old girl in high heels would look creepy and depressing. Stop pushing your beliefs, particularly your musical beliefs onto poor defenseless creatures. As if the horrors of Abu Ghraib and Guantamo weren't enough, now Americans have found a new way to distinguish themselves by acting like jerkoffs in a whole new way.

To all of our readers who are lucky enough to live outside the U.S., I hope you don't have this type of stupidity going in in your countries. If you don't, however, I must warn you. Brace yourself, because it's coming. Just like Baywatch, other places around the world will first write it off as a lowbrow American invention with no value...and then every country will buy into it. If anyone thinks I'm going overboard, and that this is just clothing for babies and dogs, you're wrong. Think of me as the first person that spoke out when the holocaust began. Now who feels like an asshole? Not me.

Retroview: Nitro

George Lynch miniature, anybody?

For better or worse, I am a child of the 80s shred scene. I first started playing guitar in '89, when the magazines were still full of shit like Cacophony, Mr. Big, Vinnie Vincent, Steve Vai, George Lynch, and so forth. Back then, before Nirvana ruined everything and made people understand that songwriting was more important that shredding, we fetishized technique above all else. The magazines were sweet, full of pictures of androgynous dudes with big hair and no shirt making a funny face as they shredded the fuck out of some neon green Washburn. Out of all those bands, though, none of the could hold a candle to Nitro. They played faster, sang higher, and looked more like characters from Mad Max than anyone else! Needless to say, we are huge Nitro fans here at Metal Inquisition, and we think it's high time to look back at this band's output.



OFR (Out Fuckin' Rageous)
Nitro's debut is, without a doubt, one of the finest pieces of recorded music in the history of mankind. And let me be perfectly clear here that while Nitro are hilarious and ridiculous, I 100% non-ironically love this record! Look how the pieces of the logo are exploding out of the letters and shit! BAM!! You can feel the crackling energy!! Some of the highlights:



Freight Train
This song is about how Nitro is like a freight train... whatever that means. I guess it is kind of like the analogy questions on the SAT that are like Nitro:Freight Train :: Racer X:____________ and you have to fill it in (I would have answered that question with "Lambo Countach," by the way). Make sure you watch Michael Angelo blaze the fretboard of his four-necked guitar (count 'em- four necks!). The guy wasn't fucking around. Jimmy Page thought he was onto some shit with his double-necked business, but Michael Angelo took it to a completely different level that is rivaled only by Kane Roberts' assault rifle guitar (below).

Fighting Mad
This song is about a fight. Not only that, but the fight is so heated, it seems likely that someone may lose their life! You can only imagine how intense and vivid the song feels! That said, I feel like parts of it could have been a little rushed. I may be going out on a limb here, but I am going to say that Jim Gillette didn't put a ton of thought into these lyrics:

You never crossed me, I hope you never will
Backed in a corner, I'm forced to kill
Don't say I haven't warned you, you're fucking with your life
Nothing can save you, not even a knife

Seriously? "Not even a knife"? I mean, I don't think anybody expects Shakespeare but come on, at least make it look like you tried.

The liner notes
Many years before 4chan and I Can Has Cheezburger made it cool, Nitro used ironic spelling to great effect in the liner notes of OFR. For example, they articulate their stance on drug abuse as follows: "DRUGZ R 4 DUMFUCKS. DON'T BE A DUMFUCK." Actually, I'm not sure it was ironic, I think they are just dummies who are functionally illiterate. The end result is the same, though, so whatever.

Nice basket of fruit

Bobby Rock
Someday we really need to write a whole post about Nitro drummer Bobby Rock, who is an extremely bizarre human being. For now, please just take a few moments to head over to his site and get some tips on vegan bodybuilding, read some of his erotic stories, and look at pictures of him meditating. It's kind of mind-blowing so make sure you've prepared yourself first with plenty of fasting, prayer, and stretches!! Here's a sample of some of his erotica- it puts Penthouse Letters to shame:

You are brought into the UCLA Medical Division for a top-secret, cutting-edge experiment. It's a referral-only program and, because of a connection you have with an old family friend, you are among the first selected. You meet your contact and are ushered through a few hallways and into a laboratory environment, where various doctors and assistants are walking around this maze of test tubes and computer screens in their long white coats. You are inevitably led to the rear of the lab where you're taken through a security check-point, then down a long corridor. Along the way, your guide has you stop and peer into a makeshift hotel room, which includes a bed, night stand, lamp and bogus painting. Sitting on the bed, dressed comfortably in an orange bath towel and reading a copy of USA Today, is an attractive and fit gentleman in his late twenties, totally oblivious to your looking in.

From there, you and your guide continue down the corridor until you come across an unusual scene: There's a beautiful, nude woman laying unconscious on a hospital bed. She has some sort of Star Trek-looking skullcap gizmo attached to her head, with a cluster of tubes and wires extending out of it and into an intricate, computerized contraption at bedside. Further left is another bed, this one empty.

Another doctor steps forward and details the experiment:

You are to lay down, fully clothed, on that empty bed across from the unconscious woman and have the futuristic headgear attached. Within 20 minutes, you will be asleep, but every aspect of your consciousness will be temporarily transferred over to the woman. In other words, you will actually wake up - with all faculties, memories, personality traits, everything, completely in tact - in the woman's body. You can even see your body asleep on the other bed.

From there, you will be given 20 minutes alone for "self-exploration," just to check out your new body and see how everything works. Then, you are to join the man you saw in the mock hotel setting for a complete, 45-minute sexual escapade, which will include oral sex and intercourse. Afterward, you are to return to the original bed with the headgear, where your consciousness will be shifted back into your body. You will then wake up and, while your body was not actually involved, you will retain all knowledge, memory and sensation of the experience.

Do you have a boner now or what?! That shit is erotic as fuck, huh?

10/10 bloody axes


NITROII: HWDWS (Hot Wet Drippin' With Sweat)
About 10 years ago, I saw the grind/hardcore band Creation is Crucifixion in Cleveland. Somehow or another I ended up talking to one of the guitarists about Nitro, and he told me he would make me a copy of HWDWS, but he fucking never did. Fast forward to about 18 months ago, and he ended up being the DJ at Lucho Metales' wedding (he does it for a living). After requesting Lil John's "Snap Yo Fingaz," I asked him if he was ever going to get me that copy of HWDWS. He still didn't have it, which was kind of disappointing at the time, but in retrospect was probably for the best. There are a few goods jams such as "Boys Will Be Boys" and "Turnin' Me On," but it just isn't nearly as good as OFR. In fact, if it wasn't for OFR, I would probably be totally into this album. I mean, pick it up if you see it, just for the sake of completeness, but don't get your hopes up, you know?

7/10 bloody axes

Black Metal-The Prank Call

Perhaps some of you have heard the prank call below at some point, as it's been around for a while. I first heard it from a friend who claimed to know the guys who were responsible for it. I think he said they were in a hardcore band or something like that, and that they had put the call on their demo. You kinda' have put aside the slightly racist, over the top black accent to enjoy it (at least I did), as well as the fact that the whole call is based upon a premise first introduced by A.C. a million years ago (with the song Living Colour Is My Favorite Black Metal Band). Having said that, there are still some gems in there. Certainly helps put the concept of "evil" in black metal further into question.

Proof that drummers are retarded (Part 1 of 368)

First and foremost, and in the spirit of full disclosure, I should tell you that I play the drums. I'm not sure if I'm a drummer, but I play the drums.

With that out of the way, I can now tell you something that you may already know: drummers tend to be some of the most odd human beings you'll ever meet. Who on earth would choose such a retarded instrument? It's the least portable instrument (okay, maybe harps and pipe organs are less portable), and one that requires that you physically attack it as though it's your worst enemy. As a result, it should come as no surprise that drummers are weird, unstable human beings. Back when I was in a band, we toured with another band who we were friends with. That band's drummer decided to bring his own pots and pans on tour so he could cook using his own equipment while on tour. I made fun of him relentlessly for this reason, only to realize that I myself had packed and brought an extensive array of cleaning and disinfectant sprays and fluids on tour with me. An array so plentiful, that it would have even been impressive to any C-Level executive at Procter and Gamble. I suddenly realized that drummers were in fact weird, but also that I was part of the problem. I was certainly guilty of falling in love with, and nurturing my childish idiosyncrasies. With that story out of the way, you can now more meaningfully enjoy these retarded drummers.



Did you ever want to see an instructional video featuring your balding uncle Frank showing you how to play a blast beat? Your dream has finally come true:





If I were his drums, I'd be afraid of being eaten. I feel bad for the dude, because he clearly has to run his own video equipment, since he has no one to help him. When you see and hear him play drums, you understand why no one wants to be around him, let alone help him. Nice Umbro shorts though.







This guy has the world's fastest feet, and I'm not just saying that. He won a contest. Have you ever heard the old joke about the special olympics? Even if you win at the special olympics, you're still retarded. (Insert rimshot sound effect)






I bet his mom cries herself to sleep.






This is a true story. When I met Mr. Gene Hoglan's Balls, I went to his apartment and saw a pair of drumsticks in his bedroom. I asked him if he played the drums, and he told me "No, I use those for air-drumming". The fact that an adult man, would air drum with drumsticks was shocking to me, but judging by this video, I guess it's common practice. I think for christmas, I'll buy Gene Hoglan's Balls a guitar pick so he can air-guitar.





An oldie but a goodie. Further proof that drummers are weird, and since british people are weird too, Mick Harris is pretty much a perfect storm of stupidity.

More Metal Tattoos From The Interweb

Thanks to the magic of search engines and the internet, we once again take you for a spin around the world of metal tattoos. Hold on tight, it's going to be a depressing and bumpy ride.



1. The line-up of bands on his leg is enough to make you gag.
2. The guy's disgusting hairy leg and crotch shot are enough to make you barf.
3. The fact that the guy is married (see wedding band) is enough to make you loose all hope and respect for women.

How many of you were surprised that the asshole who has this tattoo is wearing white hi-tops, and white ankle socks. Anyone? No? Good. I wasn't either.

This picture is proof that men are not only idiots, but also gross. Look at that disgusting armpit hair, or whatever body part that is. I've never felt so hetero in my life.

The Sarge and I saw Fear Factory some years ago in what was basically a midwestern parking lot. They played a Pantera song, and we both got the douche chills. This is the kind of tattoo that the dude who has it would show to the band members with great pride. The band members would then go "uh....wow...really? Sheesh. Wow."

Look, I know that the guy's dead and everything. It's sad, wah, wah, wah...but how big of a douche do you have to be to get this on your arm? I can just picture the guy getting it constantly reminding the tattoo dude "remember to make the goatee red, it's very important. I'm a huge fan of how he looked during the Far Beyond Driven years!"

This guy is my hero. I'm not being ironic. He's rad.

Late addition, suggested by a reader in the comments section. I don't even know where to start! The awful rendering with the fu-manchu mustache, the hat, the goatee, the pimples on Dimebag's forehead....oh and did I mention the Heavy Metal logo?

Who is the only person dumber than Max Cavalera? The guy who gets a tattoo of Max Cavalera.

Now this, my friends, is commitment. I would love to meet this guy and tell him "I'm a real Queensryche fan, not like you" just to watch his blood boil and his head blow up.





Any readers out there have band-related ink? Tell the truth, I know there's at least one Napalm Death or a Nasty Savage tattoo out there somewhere.

Inhale vs. Exhale. The metal vocal wars rage on as old men like me look on.

Sergeant D presenting during the Metal Inquisition corporate retreat. That's our administrative assistant Pearl to his left. The painting on the wall is a portrait of Steamhammer Records founder Helmut Fleisher

This past weekend, the annual Metal Inquistion retreat took place in an undisclosed rural location in these United States. This yearly retreat is intended as a time for Metal Inquisition staffers to reflect upon our last year of work, and it gives us time to think about the current direction of this fine online forum. During this yearly retreat, we partake in the usual team building exercises, review possible shifts in our business model and spend quality time with each other. This time away from the hustle and bustle of our everyday lives takes place in a setting that allows us to focus on the business at hand, with no outside interruptions (since we had no cell phone coverage), and it's also time for Sergeant D to make endless Powerpoint presentations about the M.I. business plan. We all sleep through his presentations, and usually only wake up when he loudly yells out "cha-ching! We're gonna' get rich from this blog bitches!" It was during this retreat, in one of those quiet moments that comes about from time to toime, that both Gene Hoglan's Balls and I finally disclosed our deepest, darkest and most depressing secret to one another. The secret?

We both have to wear doctor prescribed orthotics.




Actually, Mr. Hoglan's Balls has fantastic orthotics with an urban camo-like pattern that would be perfectly at home in the shoes of Max Cavalera. But back to the issue at hand...please don't assume that we both have funky looking feet that are misshapen. Our feet do not resemble claw hammers more than feet, so let me correct you. Our feet look just fine, thank you very much...but due to the pain that comes with old age, we were both forced into a course of action normally reserved for people twice our age. Pathetic? Sad? You bet! Why do I bring all this up? Because this should be a sign to all of our readers that we are no spring chickens. We've been around the block a time or two (or six), and that includes substantial experience in the world of metal.

So it's with that in mind that I shall now explain to you a great schism that has occurred in the world of metal. You see, like most old farts who wear orthodics I don't deal with change very well. I miss the days when hot ladies wore Forbidden shirts to shows, I miss the days when Shane Embury still weighed less than 400 pounds, I miss the days when Nocturnus and their lyrical genius was at the forefront of scientific research in time travel and black matter. But times have changed, and perhaps the biggest sign of this change can be seen in one simple but powerful aspect. Inhaling versus exhaling vocals in the general realm of metal.

I know what you're saying, you're saying "Hey old man, yeah you...with the orthotics. Quit crying about your foot pain and about metal vocals, get over it!" But I can't. For god's sake, I remember when metal vocalists used to exhale to grant us all with the thrill of great growling or, in the case of King Diamond, crying that sounded like a hyena in pain.

These damn kids with their haircuts, do they live in wind tunnel?

But times change, and these days, young kids whose haircuts seem to imply a constant and severe side, or back-wind (aka MySpace hair), are inhaling all over the place in order to sound like pigs in heat. I have no interest in the music that these vocal stylings are intended for, but I still find it annoying. "Pig squeling" is what the youngster call it. Ugh, I've never felt so old...especially within the context of a subculture that I'm semi-connected to. I guess this all has to do with metalcore and screamo and other styles of music that I would feel dirty as a result of even typing out their names.

Before you tell me I'm old and I should understand...I just told you I wear orthotics! I'm old, and don't want to understand! I had to sit in the Podiatrist's waiting room next to 80 year old women with bunions.


I know what some of you are thinking, that inhaling has been used successfully in some instances in the world of wigger slam, but I'm here to tell you that I'm not thrilled about that either! Back in my day we EXHALED our metal vocals. If this all sounds like insanity to you, please watch the videos below and tell me I'm wrong. If I am, I'll eat my orthotics and call it a day. Now, get off my lawn!
















This last one is a full lesson on how to inhale/pig squeal. Hope you have a cyanide pill handy. You may need it.

Three black metal images to get you through the day

Can you spot the grumpiest guy in this food court? I sure can, but can you blame him? Orange Julius totally screwed up his order.



Separated at birth? Maybe it's a stretch, but I found the similarity to be worth noting. Considering Suge Knight's past, and his temper...I have to say that the Death Row Records picture is way, way scarier.

Ahhh, nothing like a stroll through the suburbs on a nice spring day. By the way...Deicide shirt and corpse paint? You can't mix those two, didn't this kid read Lord Of Chaos? Oh, and one last thing, to the kid on the right who is carrying a hairbrush, the pentagram is supposed to point down, not up. Details, details, details.

Try Pandora if you like extensive vamping!

Pandora is a neat little online gadget that plays personalized streaming audio, sort of like Last.fm only much crappier. The fun part is that it takes the concept one step further by explaining why you like the music you like.


For example, I started off with something classic, yet contemporary: Devourment. Apparently I am drawn to "hard rock roots, repetitive melodic phrasing, and extensive vamping." I'm not entirely sure what vamping is, but I like the sound of it!


Next, I figured I would try another artist that was perhaps a bit harder to classify: Anal Cunt. Pandora came through again, explaining that AC made heavy use of "experimental sounds" and a "gravelly male vocalist." So far, so good!



But things didn't go so well when I dug deeper. The fucking posers at Pandora have apparently never heard of Gothic Slam or Sockeye. Bogus. If they don't have "We Are Circumcised" in their library, what do they have?! I decided I would just go with something I knew I would love, and asked it to play artists similar to Crazy Town.


This is where I knew I had made the right move. It turns out that, like Devourment, part of the reason why Crazy Town is so awesome is that they also use "extensive vamping!" Who knew?! I'm still not exactly sure what that means, but I am assuming it refers to something sweet like bass drops. In any case, it played POD, Saliva, and Godsmack, and I started jamming in bliss. In case you think I'm joking or being ironic, please note that I gave a thumbs up to POD but not Rage Against The Machine (yuck!).