1a.m.

A Man Outside My Window: “I WANT A FUCK! I WANT A FUCK, NOT A DICK-SUCKING!”
A Woman Outside My Window: “YOU HAD YOUR CHANCE!”

Crabcore is a style of music that has briefly become, to the shame of us all, profitable. Though some crabcore has its roots in screamo and deathcore, some in suburban whiteboy rap, and some in no-talent laptop techno, all crabcore is made by very young scene kids, all crabcore combines screamed vocals with autotuned vocals, and all crabcore absolutely fails at electronic music.

Here are some crabcore bands to familiarize yourself with. It will be painful, but it is a sacrifice worth making as it is a necessary step on the way to arming yourself against these fucks:

Attack Attack!
brokeNCYDE
Dot Dot Curve
Dropping a Popped Locket

The last three “bands” are of a sub-style commonly referred to as “Screamo-Crunk,” but I’ve decided to bring all of this failure together under the umbrella of crabcore because they are all symptoms of the same sickness.

If after reviewing this information you find that you listen to crabcore: Kill yourself immediately.
If you find that you are in a crabcore band: Kill yourself immediately.
If you run a record label and you find that you have signed a crabcore band: Quit your job at once and spend the rest of your life in a monastery as penitence.
If you run a venue and you find that you have booked a crabcore band: Ditto.
If you are a music journalist or run a music magazine and you discover that you’ve given any publicity to crabcore bands that wasn’t entirely and brutally negative: Be very very ashamed.

We can fight this together, America. All it takes is a little education.

Important Videos:

P.S. Everybody who makes crabcore looks the same:

I know that somebody told you that Isis is a metal band (though that information was erroneous), but that doesn’t mean that you don’t even have to listen to the music before deciding how to respond to it.

You are stupid.

You guys, Isis is not the sort of band that generally provides you with that sort of cathartic release, certainly not on their last two albums.

Which are not metal albums.

Okay.
-Deniz

P.S. Here is their press paragraph for this tour:

“Isis is a progressive band from L.A. with heavy riffs and psychedelic themes.”

Look! Look how hard they’re trying to not identify as a metal band! You are stupid!

A guy with a beard and a bedroll on his back and a smell around him and a general sort-of recreational-chemical deadness inside his eyes:

“Hey man, I hop trains, do you know where a freightyard is?”

And I don’t, so I get into my friend’s car and say, “That guy hops trains and wants to know where a freightyard is.”

And we pull up next to him and roll down our window and give directions and he peers redeyed into the car and says, “Thanks man, hey, do you guys smoke herb?”

At a busstop checking when the 16 comes and a man walks up with smiling lips and smiling eyes and wild gesturing cigarette:

“Youre a musician.”
“Yes I am.”
“What do you play, man, you play guitar.”
“Yes I do.”
“I knew it man, just look at the hair, everybody with hair like that plays the fuckin guitar, hair like fuckin god just like waaaaaah, blrrrrrrgblh, graaaaaaagh, fuck yeah man.”
“Haha, thanks.”
“So hey man, you do lines?”
“Haha, nah.”
“Just smoke pot then.”
“Haha, nah, just have the hair.”
“Well I tell you man I tell you what I got no cash man & my girl shes a dancer over at dreamgirls & my girl she always givin me shit about it & man my car is parked in a lot & I fuckin need 9 fuckin $s to get it out the parkin lot & I got a bag a powder & a bag a hash in the car & I’m just tryin to find a friend out here ya know.”
“Man, I got friends could help you out but none a them are out tonight far as I know, sorry.”
“Naw man, it’s cool, man, all ted nugent man like you can’t fuck with this guy, it’s like water man, fuckin water, its like water is just the fuckin essence a things ya know, without water wed all just fuckin cease ta exist, ya know?”
“…”
“& its all just fuckin water.”
“…”
“Anyway man, you have a goodn.”
“Yeahyeah, youtoo.”

A letter everybody is too apathetic to send me:

“Dear Douchebag,

Why isn’t your blog funny anymore?

-Everybody”

“I Am The Dolphin Sprayhole Fucker”

It never ceases to amaze, how suddenly and thoroughly a piece of music can change your mental state. The idea that emotions are reasonable disappears the minute your treasured existential despair is dissolved in Black Moth Super Rainbow.

A comprehensive and in-depth answer to the question of what a novel is and what a novel can do:

A novel has three basic characteristics:

1. It is ostensibly fictional.
2. It is written in prose.
3. It is a long-form work.

Elucidations/clarifications:

1. A novel is by definition assumed to be fictional (and generally claims to be fictional (on the publication information page if not in the text of the novel itself)), though it may be drawn entirely from life, be narrated as though recounting true events, be filled with factual information of all kinds, or contain original journalism and reporting.

2. The primary method of composition in a novel is prose (though it may contain poetry), but there are no stylistic limitations whatsoever on that prose. Most novels are narrative, easy to comprehend on the level of basic action, and minimally adventurous (if at all) in terms of the visual arrangement of text, but these qualities are not inherent to the novel. (A question for another day: what is prose?)

3. A novel must be at minimum long enough to be published as a standalone volume, but it may be long enough that it requires multiple volumes. Novels range from approximately 90-5000 pages (though I’m sure there are some novels that fall on either side of that figure (average length is approx. 200-500)).

That is as much as can be definitively said about the form of the novel (note that there are no restrictions with regard to structure, content, motive, authorship, originality, etc.). As for what a novel can do (or what novels do do):

Nothing can be said about this definitively.

I do love books, but they take so long to read. Even if I read all day every day, I make no headway into the vault of books I want to read; in fact, reading only makes that stockpile grow larger, for each book read provokes desire for a half-dozen more. But upon reflection, it is good that books come in the form that they do, because if books were food I would eat until no more would fit into me—until I was backed up all the way to the rim of my esophagus—and then I would vomit them all out and it would be like I had read nothing, and if books were pills I would swallow them by the handful and call a friend and tell them how many pills I’d taken and depending on the action they took and the speed with which they took it I would either die or have my stomach pumped, so perhaps it is for the best that books are slow.