You’re the victims here, Enthusiasts. The Lost Post (it’s been capitalized) was yours, it was your birthright; the Devil snatched it from you. Once again: you are all victims. I suggest you start on your memoirs immediately.
As I mentioned, the 2000-words (so many words!) were an overview of the Dave’s Picks series, but do you think that’s all there was? No, no, a million times no: the post spread and unfurled this way and that. To where, precisely, did it get to?
It was in English for sure. 100% guarantee it was in English, plus a couple words I made up that follow the rules of English but are not technically English. Was the English good, and in the correct order? Possibly, some, in bits and pieces: we can assume that the punctuation was idiosyncratic and far too many semi-colons were used.
Were the Powerball number cyphered into the dick jokes? Did I confess to my many crimes? Did I commit many further crimes? Are there others out there like me? Should we fight crime? How much crime? Gotta leave the police some, after all. Did I team-up with other super-heroes and fight a pre-determined amount of crime?
What’s the frequency, Ned Lagin?
First there is a post. Then, there is no post. Then, there is. That shit’s kinda heavy if you don’t think about it, or you’re a gullible white person on drugs. (If you ever want to get a gullible white person to sign over his power of attorney to you, give him drugs and then have a really foreign guy say deep bullshit at him for a while. Loosens him right up; he’ll sign anything.)
There were congratulations to David Lemieuxssolini for the high quality of the series that bears his name, and words of respect and gratitude for his hard work. I showed the world what DL looked like when he began answering the whistle that started his shift down in the Choogle Mines:
Look at that smile, that cherubic face unburdened by the years, the toil, the dank of the Choogle Mines. That’s a Canadian ready to shovel the walk and face the day. Look at his eyes! They twinkle and dash, like elf purse-snatchers. He has joie de vivre, which is French for “a hat on.”
This is a screencap from Dave’s latest Seaside Chat:
He did this to himself for you people.
The whole post was crammed full of stuff like that: I would neither exaggerate, nor lie to you. (I totally would, and I frequently do.) There was hilarity, sure, and pithy bon mots (the pithiest), and perhaps even words to live by. I mean: that’s on you, the words-to-live-by thing. You’re allowed to live by any words you want. If you disregard the author’s intent hard enough, you can live by a VCR repair manual.
That would be silly. In fact, that would be outrageous and I am now angered. Allow me to now lash out at you, Enthusiasts, and accuse you of things. None of you helped me. None of you even asked if I needed help! How dare you.
Saw this coming.
I J’ACCUSE YOU.
You profess to have respect for the English language, and then you do things like that to it.
You have a problem with my j’accusing the Enthusiasts?
Oh, God, don’t conjugate it.
Fine: I’ll just talk about my j’accusations.
Did you just walk into a tiger cage and then the tiger ate you?
I like when we do that. It’s fun to do stuff together.
I hate you.
Anyway, there was more of everything and a little bit on top of that, but nothing’s gonna bring it back. (Dead reference.) There were, however, two points I made that have been alluded to in the Comment Section. I shall address them, and then we shall never speak of this again. It’ll be the ’72 studio album that never happened, or one of Aristophanes’ lost plays.
(I am just like Aristophanes.)
First: DaP 12 from Colgate. I don’t remember the specifics, but I went out of my way to couch my criticisms as personal and preferential; my language was conciliatory; weasel words were employed willy-nilly. My argument was this: Keith’s PLONK PLONK PLONK PLONK four-to-the-bar box chords are not just annoying, but mixed so high as to be so distracting that the rest of the music is lost to me. It was, I said numerous times, just my opinion.
And then I was cyber-bullied and stripped of my First Amendment rights by some SKWs (Social Keith Warriors) in the Comment Section. When other people disagree with my opinions, I feel like I’m being opinion-shamed; that’s wrong, because opinions come in all shapes and sizes. Some opinions are beautiful and true, and others are dumb as shit, but all opinions are beautiful. Even the ugly ones.
Plus the whole disappearing post thing has me cranky, so I am choosing to double-down on my argument: Dave’s Picks 12 is the musical equivalent of putting a cat in a cannon, and then firing the cat at a brick wall. Not fucked-up cat, either: real cute fucker. Cuddly, purrs, the whole nine yards.
And depending on far away the wall was, the BOOM and the SPLAT might be almost simultaneous: BOOMSPLAT. Or perhaps the sound would be more like a SHPLORF. No, not SHPLORF: it would be wetter. What about PLUNF?
Please stop. Please stop firing the cats at the wall.
I’m not actually doing that.
You’re doing it in your head, and I’m in there with you.
I want to know what it would sound like if you shot a kitty out of a cannon at a brick wall, and a thought experiment is the only way to do it. Even if there is a video on the innertubes, I don’t want to actually see it.
There’s a video.
There’s probably a whole site.
And second: a request has been made for a definition of “80’s Truther.”
80’s Truther [Brentus veritasus] – This small but
vocal verbose sub-species of Deadhead is identified by two core beliefs.
- The 80’s were the musical high point of the Grateful Dead’s career.
- David Lemieux and Big Dead are keeping this information from the world.
The 80’s Truther is found in forums and comment sections everywhere, but can be reliably sighted at Dead.net with the announcement of each new release from the 70’s.
Now, the 80’s Truther is not to be confused with the First Show Proselytizer, even though they often overlap. Also, just by the very laws of math, some FSPs have to be right when they say that their first show was the best show EVAR. Somebody’s first show was Veneta; at least one guy got dragged to Cornell and then got on the bus. But, you know: most FSPs want to preach to you about how ’92 is a truly underrated year.
It should further be noted that the 80’s Truther needs to believe there is a conspiracy afoot to be properly labeled as such. There must be a blithe disregard of any excuse about how “the tapes are shit,” or “Garcia falls asleep during Crazy Fingers,” or “the tape is shit and Garcia fell asleep during The Wheel.” No, these things can’t be true. It’s gotta be personal. David Lemieuxligatawny has it out for the 80’s. For reasons.
It was a good post, but now it’s in its own reality and won’t take our calls.
Was it ever here at all?