The death of art: Today's entertainment is pathetic and banal

Where has all the good music gone? The good horror movies? It’s all shit nowadays. Sam Raimi fucked himself when he wrote THE GRUDGE. What a pile of absolute faeces. Nothing but a ridiculous Japanese rip-off. Christ, I can’t even watch it, not when I think about EVIL DEAD 2: DEAD BY DAWN. I miss horror movies like that. As for music…ye gods, what the fuck? What is this whiny, wailing garbage I hear on the radio? No substance, just of bunch of crybabies that had the good fortune to learn five or six chords and practiced downstrokes on a guitar, a bunch of shit I could do in my sleep. It eats cock.
Entertainment is shit these days, and I want to know why.

Writing. What the fuck? TWILIGHT. Are you SERIOUS? Vampires that glitter? GLITTER? Now, if said vampires preferred strip clubs I could see why they would be glittery – after all at the strip club a man picks up his fair share of glitter among other things dirty (with enough dough you can leave very dirty), but I digress.
The latest atrocity has come in the form of this TWILIGHT-esque Zombie flick whose name I cannot remember. But you’ll know what I’m talking about. Somehow, John Malkovich deigned to star in this promising upchuck of celluloid where a pretty girl causes a zombie’s heart to again beat, curing the zombie as the tale goes. And did I mention Malkovich is her father, who despises and wants to eradicate zombies, even cute ones like the boy who still recognizes a Rolex? Ye gods, it makes me fucking sick. And this is why I’m going to write a screenplay and see if Hollywood has the balls to give it a green light. Maybe they will, maybe they won’t.

At the same time, I’ve found a guitar at the pawn shop worth six-hundred bucks for seventy dollars. For about fifteen hundred dollars I could get everything I need to make a kick ass record. And you know what? YES, I can do better than these jackasses that pretend to be artists when all they’re doing is crying or trying to dampen the genitals of (next comment deleted by Rob Committee of Good Taste).

Where’s the Ozzy? The Pete Townshend? The Jimmy Page? The Roger Waters? The Kurt Cobain? The Layne Staley? The Nick Cave? The Killers are not enough of an answer to this. Only a band no one knows called Murder By Death holds a candle to the Greats of Olde. Now we have what – the Neon Trees? BARF! Or the syntho-pop type garbage where it feels like I am just too close to love you yet makes Anthony Burgess a prophet by having written his tale in which the villain picks up a couple of hot girls at a music store who are buying shit music by a band called “The Heaven Seventeen”; when Mr. DeLarge takes them home and introduces them to Beethoven, the girls are overwhelmed by the chromatic erotica and proceed to engage in a wild threesome with Alex. There’s something frightening in that. Why? Because music that digs into your guts makes you wild and crazy and sexy. New music lacks that prowess and I wonder if it isn’t on purpose due to the fact that the Powers-That-Be obviously want us as a race to stop engaging in fornication, or fucking, if you prefer.

ENTERTAINMENT SUCKS ASS these days. Why else are we so interested in kittens and rednecks breaking open their own faces in washes of blood that they would – without YouTube – regret for the rest of their lives? But no, the fucking video went VIRAL, baby! It was worth the twenty-eight stitches. These assholes spend six minutes with an Android filming a grainy piece of shit that got more views than a Blockbuster Film while Hollywood spends millions of dollars that would more than likely be spent helping the National Debt crisis if said dollars weren’t going to overproduced garbage that will not even be remembered in ten years.

I think Hollywood (and the whole entertainment industry) knows this, and that’s why they try to shove it down our throats via commercials and clubs that get paid to play the right kind of music. It is all about the payola and profit, baby. Got to spend money to make money. We must perpetuate the SYSTEM!

For fuck’s sake, who likes this new shit, teen-aged girls? Is that the only demographic these days? Well, guess what? Adults like movies, and adults like music, so where’s ours? Where the hell is our good stuff? Hollywood isn’t going to change our tastes by pandering to our children. No, instead we will wail silently as our tweens get excited by vapid tales of sensitive monsters.

I have seen a few – and I mean FEW – decent movies lately. But there are literally no good new bands. I should also mention that these decent movies are not my favorite type of film, horror. They are action, such as LOOPER and THE DARK KNIGHT RISES, the film that got sixty people all torn up by a psychopath.

It circumnavigates back to the same thing as everything else eventually does: MONEY. There is a lot of money in the teen-age girl demographic for entertainment, be it music or movies or what have you. Otherwise, we would not have Beiber nauseating us with his bitch-face plastered all over every fucking magazine in the grocery store. This little shit’s worse than Robert Pattinson. Pattinson looks like he got beat with a shovel as a child. Mmkay, I can see how that’s not his fault, but Beiber…if I saw Beiber on the street, I would kick his ass solely on principle. Well, I’d just slap him once. That’s all he’d be able to handle. Kicking his ass would be cruel.

Nah, I’d kick the dogfuck out of him.

Point being, I wonder, what can I do otherwise? I said yes, I can do better both musically and with writing and even movie producing, if someone had the balls to give me an audience, rather than these wastes of money they’re most willing to produce during the last ten years.

Am I a narcissist? Maybe. Do I give a shit? Not really. Because I’m more than willing to prove it and I hope my book, which is chock full of testicle-fueled violence and a plot to match, helps me do so. Speaking of which, I’ve got to get back to the second write, the Polishing, if you’ll allow. In the meantime, stay blessed, you wonderful combinations of DNA and meat and love.

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