Dracula must be rolling in his coffin...

Vampyres suck.

Yes, I spell it "v-a-m-p-Y-r-e" now. I mean, what else am I supposed to do?

I've been a longtime fan of the mysterious, brooding, blood-sucking, becaped, night-prowling perv.

As a self-proclaimed misfit (okay, maybe not so self-proclaimed), I've always been drawn to the more "fringe" elements of culture, vamp(y)res among them.

I've never been a vamp(y)re. I don't ever intend to be one. I get queasy at the sight of blood, and I don't like my steak anywhere near medium rare.

But, I delight in the mystery, the paradox, the irresistibility (I think I just made up another word) of the vamp(y)re.

Bram Stoker's"Dracula" was one of the coolest books I've ever read. Entirely written in letter and journal-entry format, it is one of the most spine-tingling stories ever told - still.

I read Anne Rice's first three books in her "Interview With the Vamp(y)re" series.

Perverse.

Not for the feint of heart or the innocent-hearted to consume, are the novels by Rice. Which is why I haven't continued the series. The stories simply got to a point where I could no longer justify my enjoyment of them.

Nonetheless, Rice served to perpetuate the mystique and intrigue of the vamp(y)re further.

Don't tell me you don't know where this is going.

Now we have Stephanie "Molly" Meyer who has single-handedly ruined vamp(y)res for those of us who have always loved them. (FTR, the below pic is not of my making. I "borrowed" it from another blog that was lamenting about middle aged women and their obsession with Twilight).

I remember a time when alternative music was actually "alternative" to the mainstream. I remember a time when independent music was actually produced by an "independent" record label. I remember a time when vamp(y)res were actually "vamp(y)ric" - NOT creepy teenage stalkers.

Sure, everybody deserves to enjoy the mystery that is "vamp(y)re".

BUT, now Edward mania is EVERYWHERE.

You see, the once brooding, shadow-hidden vamp(y)re is now a Molly Mormon icon. Vamp(y)res have now sold out. I'm not sure what's worse: the fact that "Twilight" now has a hallowed place on the bookshelf next to the scriptures, or that Mollys feel so repressed due to the insane workaholicism (another made-up word) of LDS men, that they require such escapism...

Okay. I've officially just pissed off a lot of people.

But I'm pissed off that I now have to go find something else mainstream America hates. It's quite tiring trying to stay ahead of the cultural curve.

After all, I'm ALREADY Mormon. I guess that will never be cool, so I can take satisfaction in that.

However... Jesus is becoming increasingly cool in the underground scene. I recently found a page on Myspace devoted to "Christian Goths and Emos", and the guitarist from the band Tool, Adam Jones, is now a Jesus freak.

So, you never know.

It's Been a Long Time...

So anyways, my soul has been officially SUCKED by that OTHER social network of hundreds of "friends" and immediate gratification, where EVERYONE has to see what you say on their homepages (unless, of course, they've chosen to "hide" your posts, which, I suspect has happened to me with more than a few "friends")

Let's face it: A true narcissist doesn't want to wait around for several days for his friends to take notice of what he has to say.

HE WANTS IT NOW!!!!
However, much to my chagrin, I have discovered that not only has my soul been sucked, but so has my creativity and, with it, my brain.

I mean, when your interaction is dumbed down to "quizzes", obscure movie quotes and unintelligible quips designed to defend yourself about how you are really NOT gay, you know your narcissism has reached its apex.

So yes, world, I'm gonna start blogging again, because I want to regain what small degree of intelligence and creativity I once possessed (even though my "fanbase" here is no longer, and it's a very real possibility that NOBODY will actually read this post - ever)

Besides, nobody likes me over there anyway.

I LOVE JAPAN... SERIOUSLY

Cub Scout Pinewood Derby: A Virtual Pi$$ing Match

Okay, okay. That title's a little over-the-top. I know.

But, even as a Cub Scout myself, I knew it wasn't about me, or my little Cubbie friends.

It was about the Dads.

In fact, it's ALL about the Dads.

Last night, we had what is most likely our final Pinewood Derby event, where Hayden proudly carried out our dubious, but somewhat in-your-face tradition, of getting destroyed every race.

At least his car actually made it to the finish line. There was a year... and I'm not making this up... when Nathan's car stopped halfway down the track. It didn't even make it all the way DOWN the slope.

You see, I REFUSE to make the boys' cars for them.

Why?

Because it's not about ME.

However, with that attitude, we were always doomed to fail. Because EVERYBODY ELSE CHEATS!!!

If you've ever been to one of these things, then there is no doubt that that smooth, shiny, lacquered-up Ferrari replica in Lane A was NOT crafted by a 9-year-old. Nor was the chrome-plated mini-truck with those intricately detailed flames painted on the side. Nor was that aerodynamically-fashioned ice cream-cone car...

... ALL riddled with strategically-placed lead weights.

But you can tell which one is made by my son. It has been cut once, into a slight slope, with jagged edges, painted with flat-black spray paint, a wobbly, uneven red stripe painted down the middle with Mom's nail polish, and wheels that don't spin because they're hammered in too closely to the side of the car.

Seriously.

I think they need to rethink the whole thing. Like, maybe they should devote a few pack meetings to making the cars.

NO DAD'S ALLOWED

It's simply another chest-thumping, member-measuring event where those whose Dad's have the biggest tools win.

But I'm not bitter :)

Hip-Hop & Country: More Alike Than You Might Think

Yesterday, I saw a country music video on youtube about formidable "honkey-tonk badonkadonks."

Yeah, I'll be honest. I found it quite entertaining, most assuredly due to my Y-chromosome.

But afterwards, I found myself contemplating the video, and the whole country music scene.

First off, however, I am NOT a fan of country music. It doesn't really speak to me, despite of the fact that my late dad, and a plethora of those who claim the surname "Van Cleave" eat, drink, and breath it.

But, I am a fan of honkey-tonk badonkadonks (sorry, just being honest).


As you may recall, nearly 20 years ago, Sir Mixalot explored a similar subject in his hip-hop/ rap hit, "Baby Got Back."

Backs are nice too... but I digress.

So I got to thinking, and watched the SNL hip-hop party spoof, "I'm On A Boat". And then I thought, "How would making fun of hip-hop party videos, be any different than making fun of 'Honkey-Tonk Badonkadonk', a video in which all these hot white country music patrons are having a wild party in a bar?"

Seriously.

I risk offending any self-righteous country music fans who look down their noses at the predominantly black genres of hip-hop and rap.

Don't get me wrong. I cannot abide hip-hop or rap any more than I do country.

But here I go:

It's safe to say that patrons of hip-hop and country generally claim a wide chasm exists between them. They call each other racist. They claim their own versions of "virtue" and proclaim the others' lack of virtue.

Seriously?

Look. I'm just sayin': when I see videos with hot ladies in 'em, prancing around and fawning over an athletically-built male singer/ rapper (or males fawning over a female), it tells me all I need to know.

Both have the same train of thought: sex, sex, and MORE sex.

Neither have left behind the high school mentality. BOTH roll out beautiful women and men (debatable when you see the likes of one Lil' Wayne, I know) and sing/ rap about sex, parties, and chest-thumping.

Chances are pretty good, says I, that most of these "musicians" weren't ever really musicians to begin with.

Jocks? Yes.

Cheerleaders? Yes.

Popular kids? Most likely.

Band geeks? NOPE.

Band geeks are the ones who actually go on to make real music that speaks to our souls, write meaningful poetry, and very RARELY sing of sex parties and possessions.

Bands like Muse, The Killers, The Beatles, and many (admittedly, not all) of the bands that I actually listen to, were most likely band geeks who know a thing or two about music, and what it means.

Isn't it funny how high school carries over into adulthood. The jocks and popular kids are now dominating the crap we hear on the airwaves, just like they used to on the playground.

And I have to call out country music to step down off its high-horse and realize, that as far a subject matter goes, they're no better than the rap/hip-hop they so disdain.

And I'm not bitter.

... Really.