WOMEN OF ROCK
These women rock so hard that some of them are almost hip-hop!
written by B f/ Emily on march 16th - 2004

"Figured You Out," the new top forty smash by rockers Nickelback, has done two very specific things to me:  caused me to blush and quickly change the radio while riding in the car with my Mom, and reevaluate my feelings regarding the objectification of women.  The lyrics, for those of you who haven't heard the song (and for those of you who tell everybody you don't listen to top forty music but rather listen to this week's emo band of choice like Taking Back Sunday or Byron's Big Nut or whoever) are basically this:

I like the way that we have sex.
I like your doody on my pecs.
You're like a Porkasaurus Rex,
and in the morning when I stretch,
I like to jack off in your Chex.

It goes on like this for like five minutes.  By the second verse you want to push your flaccid penis back towards your body so it sinks behind the testicles and you need Link to rescue your boner from Turtle Rock.  Have you seen Chad Kroeger?  He looks like I fell asleep during The Passion of the Christ and woke up in a Salvador Dali nightmare.  Y'see, because Kroeger looks like scary Jesus and Nickelback songs make me want to cut my eyes with scissors.  So the blatant statement that Chad enjoys getting head from a submissive coke whore (on a pile of dirt, if I understand the lyrics) makes me uneasy at best.

I think that Nickelback was trying to steer their hideous faces away from the nice guy rock stereotype that lumps them in with vaginal extractions like matchbox twenty and Sugar Ray, or any other group of five guys who started off as hardcore teens and ended up happy housewives.  Nickelback wanted to do this song as an excuse whenever somebody puts them in a category with Uncle Kracker.  I don't really blame them, either, because if I was forced into anything with Uncle Kracker I'd do absolutely anything necessary to avoid his taut soul-searching lyrics and vanilla wafer farts.  But this song doesn't do anything but scare off their only legitimate audience.  No person under 30 with any reputable taste whatsoever enjoys Nickelback, and as the band gets older they drift farther and farther from this logic.  This is known as "Kid Rock Disease."  So when the middle-aged housewife wanders into Barnes & Noble thinking it's "crazy" that she's looking for a copy of "Picture" on CD, pat her on the back and reassure her that unless her child is retarded or eleven, she will be the only person in her family rocking out to Sheryl Crow's gross infidelity anthem.

This is very similar to how I wanted to say, "When even butt-phoenixes like Nickelback write songs about how they can use women and throw them away we have reached a point in society where women have become even less than objects.  Rather, they have become pictures of objects, and will continue to be so until women get together and realize that the only people really representing them are swamp-bog creatures (Rosie O'Donnell), ignorant coat riders with hair like Japanese professional wrestlers (Kelli O'Donnell), or some other really detrimental voice that, much like every other sex, race, affiliation, group, and club in America, does nothing but make the people it's defending look like nuts.  Black people have Louis Farrakhan.  White people have George W. Bush.  Who do women have, Elizabeth Wurtzel?  See how this works?  Black people have an ignorant monkey man, white people have an ignorant monkey man, and women have a chick who snorts coke and passes out at a party with Nickelback's dong in her mouth. 

But instead of making a half-assed valid political point I just go NICKELBACK SUXXXXXX and everybody posts in the forum to tell me that it was very well-written, but that it was too long, and I could've said NICKLEBACK SUXXX with three X's instead of six, and this way they could've saved extra time.  So instead of going that extra mile to connect my point here, I'm going to dedicate this opening sequence to our Progressive Boink forum (and Jesus) and take one for the team.

NICKELBACK SUXXX

WOMEN ARE OBJECTS AND NOT CURRENTLY VERY GOOD AT MUSIC

There, I hope you have extra time to not do your job.  Let me go roll around on the pile of money I get for doing this site I hate you all you acne-faced Nintendo fans fuck pay attention I'm insulting you no don't go off and read fark yes okay guy with two penises is weird fine here are more lesbians enjoy!

(Also, a butt phoenix is a mystical bird that rises from the asses.)

KATY ROSE'S HEART IS IN OVERDRIVE GUYS

Please read the lyrics before you continue.

Katy Rose's new hit single "Overdrive" reveals that the teen pop-rocker has no problems bearing her introspective side for the public to absorb.  Over the course of the song's thirty-seven thousand choirs the singer states that she is many things all at once, including:

YEAH YEAH, I'm independence.

Meaning:  Katy Rose is a free-spirited teen, and her mere existence represents the exuberance of youth and the endless possibilities of life.

YEAH YEAH, I'm borderline.

Meaning:  Katy Rose is not fully classifiable as one thing or its opposite.

And, uh, I guess she's out of paper.

YEAH YEAH, I'm California.

Meaning:  Katy Rose, on a personal level, embodies the jewel of the West coast: a sun-drenched, fast-moving Mecca that appeals to those of us who experience four seasons as some kind of ideal; a shiny thing we're always reaching for.  So, like, a guy in Vermont should really want to stick his dick in her Butte Valley.

My minds all screwed and upside down, but my hearts on overdrive.

Meaning:  Katy Rose's heart will try to survive when machines start to come alive and become homicidal.

YEAH YEAH, I'm cherry cola.

Meaning: Katy Rose has medium carbonation and a great balance of Cola and Cherry flavors.  What the fuck is "I'm cherry cola" supposed to mean?  Emily says she thinks Katy's using cherry as a pussy buzzword to be indicative of some virgin/whore complex, but I think it might be because she's trying to live up to the "chicka-cherry cola" precedent set by Savage Garden.

YEAH YEAH, I'm candy-eyed.

Meaning: Katy Rose is trying to relay the point that, though she comes across as a skanky and jaded Hollywood kid, she is, in effect, still a young girl with a young girl's naive view of the world.  That, or she slipped at one of those awesome candy stores in the mall and fell face first into a big vat of JuJu Fruits.

YEAH YEAH, I'm California.

Meaning: Fred Savage's quarter-witted little brother won't shut up about wanting to go to Katy Rose.

My minds all screwed and upside down, but my hearts on overdrive.

Meaning: This means that face Randy Orton (or Elix Skipper) is about to finish off his opponent using Katy Rose's heart.

YEAH YEAH, I'm independence.

Meaning:  From Katy Rose it is 102 miles to the Kansas River crossing.

YEAH YEAH, I'm borderline.

Meaning:  Madonna feels like she's going to lose her mind, because she keeps on pushing her love over the Katy Rose.

YEAH YEAH, I'm California.

Meaning:  Katy Rose is about to be ejaculated on by Phantom Planet.  Which is funny, because the first time they ever ejaculated was on Katy Rose.

My minds all screwed and upside down, but my hearts on overdrive.

Meaning: Katy Rose's heart meter has filled up all the way, and on the next turn she is going to unleash BLITZ ACE.

(Assumed) Deleted Lines: 

YEAH YEAH, I'm independence
YEAH YEAH, it's impossible to read an article about me without them shoving the fact that I'm an oversexed teen who is 'totally just like Lolita' down your throat.
YEAH YEAH, I'm borderline.
YEAH YEAH, my parents should've stopped touring with Crosby, Stills, and Nash for at least long enough to beat my ass once in a while so I wouldn't turn out to be one of those shitty smoking fourteen year olds who wear 80 rings and lay in cemeteries.

Also, even a teen girl should be crucified fucking Frequency-style for writing the lines, "I can’t stop thinking of your face/La la lee la lee loo lace."  I D.A.R.E. this teen to resist drugs and alcohol.  Reading is fundamental AND a hoot, and it's not that hard to come up with actual lyrics when the peak of your songwriting ability is already "you sting and hurt like a bad tattoo."  What, do ugly tattoos hurt more than pretty ones?  I want to run over her in Jayne Mansfield's car.

Also, being a teen pop-rocker means that if you listen to her while drinking Coke your head will explode.

kyl3_f4rnsw0rth: Penis ahoy!

Rating the Letters 1.5

Karen O- Oy Vey!

O also stands for: Oodles of noodles, Oompa loompa, Orgasmo, Oh, I think I missed what Bill was going for.

Comment:  Currently making herself an object of ubiquity (and making us all Say Say Say, "where's the remote?") due to her buzzclip "Maps", Karen O is the vocalist and 1/3 of the NOTTHEDISTILLERSPLEASEDONT SUE act The Yeah Yeah Yeahs.  Along with her bandmates, Richard Belzer and Some Sort of Muppet, The Yeah Yeahs Yeahs combine a pared down neuvo punk rock aesthetic with some sort of electronicky thing that I'm at a loss to describe because I know very little about music.  Also, they apparently write songs about Uma Thurman movies.

I got a man who makes me want to kill
I got a man who makes me want to kill
I got a man who makes me wanna uh
I got a man who makes me want to kill.

It took me five minutes to find lyrics I could make a joke about.  The Yeah Yeah Yeahs style of songwriting seems to be: Write a line.  Repeat that line.  Write a second line that isn't really about anything, but is vague enough to seem like it relates.  Write a third line, and make sure it repeats one word three times.

When not performing, Karen O's other hobbies include having bad hair, hanging out, and dressing weird.  Call me a culture snob, but who thinks high top Chuck Taylors and green tights look good? Who? God.  Karen O is representing the New York hipster art fuck contingent of the Letter People, along with Senor V-Vincent Gallo, and the Trachtenberg Family Slideshow Players-the T Family.  They all hang in the Latin Lane area of Alphaville, full of dingy coffee houses with Edward Gorey tables, where they write music they know to suck, but to suck just slightly less than the majority of current music, so those of us desperate for something created after 1995 to latch onto mistake them as "creative" and "good."  Then they take pictures of their mailboxes and post them on Deviant Art.

Emily, giver of Disclaimers says:  Just in case anyone worth a damn ever runs across this, I just want to clear things up by saying that I actually really love the Trachtenberg Family Slideshow Players.

Oddly Organic Organization of Ordinals: 50-11

LET'S TAKE FERGIE SERIOUSLY:  A GAME!

Hi!  My name is Stacey Ferguson.  I'm like eleven years old.  One day I want to be a singer and a dancer!  Luckily I've gotten a job performing on KIDS INCORPORATED, and even though we're totally the Go-Bots to the Mickey Mouse Club's Transformers we try hard and have fun, and that's what counts.  I'm from an affluent California suburb, so even if this show or the fast food commercials I do don't work out, my family still loves me and I'm the best me I can be!

Hi!  My name is Stacey Ferguson.  I'm like twenty years old.  One day I want to be the biggest pop star in the world!  Even though my Kids Incorporated stint didn't set the world on fire I'm lucky enough to have developed into a BUSTY BLONDE BOMBSHELL!  My fake sister from Kids Incorporated ended up being hot enough to get our own pop group, and since this is the late 90's and that well hasn't already been drained of it's water, wishes, coins, and Goonies, we're gonna give it our best shot!  We've got the drive, we've got the determination, we're talented, oh, oh man, we're so gonna make it.  Please call your local radio station and request WILD ORCHID!  Look for our new album due out August 17th!  Or August 19th!  Or maybe never!

Hey mama!  My name is Fergie.  I'm like...twenty years old.  Now I'm a big pop star!  I've never heard of Kids Incorporated nor Wild Orchid, because I spent my life growing up in the MEAN STREETS OF LOS ANGELES, and as a DIRTY LATINA I got the grooves to make the world quake, and I do it without bodyguards!  Because assumedly Level 1 Gundam Fugee knockoffs usually need bodyguards.  Anyway, since we're the REFUGEE TEE-BALL TEAM, we've got just the right mixture of gangster and wankster to turn middle-American on it's honky ear!  Where's the love y'all?  I don't know!  Where's the love y'all?  I don't know!  SOMEBODY PLEASE TELL ME WHERE THE LOVE IS SO I CAN SHUT UP.  We've had two top-forty hits, and hopefully I won't have to be Pink and reinvent myself a fourth time as Alicia Bridges.

Hey mama!  Look, I'm so fit that I can shake my ass, and MY ASS WON'T MOVE. 

YES YES WE TAKE YOU SERIOUSLY FERGIE FROM THE COOL B.E.P.  *







*and SCENE

Brody can't ever be mentioned by anybody ever without Courtney in there somewhere.

And, as a final point:

Destinys2ndKid: YASE:  B really wants to have sex with her.
Destinys2ndKid: NYET:  B does not want his bill to spin around to the back of his head after one of her venereal diseases shoots him in the face with a shotgun.

SO TOTALLY NOT COMPARING MYSELF TO BEN MOODY

Former Evanescence guitarist Ben Moody spoke to Mix 96.1 in San Antonio, Texas about why he left the group while the band was in Germany. Moody said he didn't leave the group in a huff, and things were discussed between he, vocalist Amy Lee, and the band's management well in advance. Moody implied that Amy Lee played the "damsel in distress" role for press purposes, and they agreed one of the two had to go, and Amy didn't want to go solo, so he volunteered.

Moody revealed that had had a strained business relationship with the singer for a long time, and it wasn't working as a band anymore —Avril Lavigne got together, so he didn't want to put the band and the crew through that continued tension. He then talked about how he and saying that she's is a very nice person to work with and that she's got a shy personality, which is why she's such a difficult person to interview. Moody then talked about his other projects, including a possible solo album. Listen to the interview at Mix961.com (Part#1 / Part#2).

Question 1:  Do you think when he was moping around all pissed off all the time, one of the less important guys in the band (Fat Drummer, maybe) came up to him with a smirk and asked "Why've you BEN MOODY lately?"

Question 2:  Who can identify with Ben Moody here?  I don't see how anybody can understand where he's coming from.

Ben Moody and Amy Lee have been friends since they were what, twelve years old?  One is the faux-Goth girl (often seen wandering through Spencer Gifts looking for blacklight dildos or OVER THE HILL trucker hats or whatever) who isn't nearly alternative enough to be alternative, and therefore lives in this shadow of uniqueness that she has meticulously arranged with all the lighting equipment the world has to offer.  Her friend is a nerdy writer with a huge forehead and tattoos.

So they go on and on through life, with Amy wearing skirts made out of neckties and Ben killing himself on the inside.  He keeps thinking that Amy is the kind of girl filled with passion, the kind of girl who won't miss something really individual and wonderful when it's done for her.  The kind of girl you kiss in the rain.  The kind of girl you drive six hours to give flowers to for no reason.

So he says "I'll do what I can!" and begins writing songs about her.  He pours his heart into them, and even though they're filled with his goofy personal quirks he does his best, and gains some acclaim for them.  Amy TOTALLY LOVES HIS SONGS because they're BEST FRIENDS FOR EVER, but she, being the kind of girl she is, remains oblivious to the fact that the songs are about her.  Let me rephrase that:  She knows the songs are about her and is "flattered," but thinks that opening up to Ben and showing him any kind of emotional response for the work he's put into caring about her will "lower" her.  But she knows that if she compliments him he isn't going to be a dick and go off on her for being an idiot.  What she doesn't realize is that he really does care for her, which is WHY he wrote these things, and he doesn't really WANT anything from her...he just wants her to feel as passionate about the little things in life (friendship, moments, opalescent hand-crafted glass angels) as he does.  Because he thinks she's worth it.  Because he wants the world to see her as the wonderful person he sees, despite the fact that it's pretty obvious to everybody that she's an automatonic twit.

He even lets her sing in his band.  They rock out HaRdCoReee, but not too hardcore, because they are Christians, and they have to keep their inhibitions tightly coiled.  So Ben and Amy form a tight bond and Ben keeps writing these songs about Jesus and life and Amy, because he's trying to understand himself, and is trying to understand how a girl with that much space between her eyes can't have a cognizant though in there somewhere.  Then, a record deal!  Then, Daredevil soundtrack!  Music videos!  Concerts!  Fans!  Fan sites!  It avalanches down onto them.  Ben's hard work hasn't really been wasted time, because people can see themselves in his words, and can understand that even if he's not the best writer ever he's TRYING, and that's better than most.

So they toss Jesus aside.  Amy smiles (frowns) for pictures while Ben stands in the background.  At least he gets to be in focus...that's better than Fat Drummer and the rest.  Amy gets posters.  Amy gets AOL 9.0 Buddy Icons.  All because of Ben.  And what does he get?  Amy Lee, the girl he just wanted to be with his entire life, going off to fuck whatever other rock star she can find.  He's okay with this now;  he knows that she was never really "worth it," but that the inspiration she gave him to write what he wrote made them famous.  His fans appreciate him.  He appreciates himself, finally.  But even now, even now that they're millionaires with ringtones of their own songs on their cellphones, Amy can't just hug him, give him a kiss on the cheek, and tell him that she appreciates him.  She just can't do it.  For whatever reason.

So he hangs out with Avril.  She sucks, but he's used to it.  It'll take him a few albums to get the Amy Lee gunk out of his system.  But he'll write them...and maybe his next thirty songs will all be about how her face haunts his once pleasant dreams, or how he wants God to be his tourniquet for the wounds she's inflicted on him, or how he wants to give her a powerbomb from the top of the ladder.  His words might not be the best, but he's trying.  He's trying to be better than the almost fat almost nerd almost-ran from high school.  He rips off his ugly bowling shirt and stares at his hairline in the mirror and wonders what else he has to do.  Where he has to go.  What he has to do to fulfill his destiny now that he's realized she isn't it.  He laughs when he hears "My Immortal" on the radio and knows that deep down she knows it's about her.  And he laughs because she's got her fists taped like Eddy Guerrero in the video.

Or maybe that was just me.

Question 3:  Which Evanescence song are you?

I'm NOBODY'S FOOL!

Question 4:  What's the deal with Avril?

LIGHTNING ROUND/GARTH BROOKS EUPHEMISM ROUND-UP


In this round players I'll read off the name of a popular female musician, and players have ten seconds to tell us his or her feelings on the subject.  The player with the most PROGRESSIVE thoughts at the end of the lightning round moves on to our Showcase Showdown.  All right?  Let's start.

HILARY DUFF

B:  I think it's funny in her song "Come Clean" where she says "Cause I wanna feel the thunder," because it allows me to make jokes about the country classic "That Summer" and assume that Duff "has a need to feel the thunder," and subsequently wants to do it with Garth Brooks.

Emily:  Makes sense.  If I'd let Agent Cody Banks take my flower and it'd changed me from cute, chubby faced 12 year old into manly jawed over-gelled pop diva, I'd be wishing for a little Southern Good Ol' Boy heft too.

B:  She ain't goin' down on him till the sun comes up! 

Emily:  He'll make her cream like a River!

B:  He's much to old to feel on this damn young!

Emily:  He'll show her his friends in low places!

B:  He's two of a kind, working on the little girls from Full House!

Emily: She's gonna take a ride on the America Honky Tonk BAR!

B:  It was his schlong that made her sing!

Emily:  He's gonna stand INSIDE the fire. . . of her loins!

B:  He is forty against hundreds, in someone else's bloody warmth!

Emily:  He spent last night in the arms of a girl from LaLaine's cabana!

B:  Mama's in Cheaper by the Dozen, Papa's in the pen!

Emily:  He's gonna be upset tomorrow if she never comes!

B:  I can hear him call each time Cadet Kelly blows, and I wonder if she knows, what she's doin' now!

Emily:  She does her best to hold him, when his penis comes to call!

B:  She buries the hatchet, but leaves her cooter sticking out!

Emily:  She'll be his Dixie Chicken, he'll be her Tennessee Cock!

B:  He wants to tie her up and have sex with her because she is hot, and thBUZZZZZZZZ

And Emily is our winner!

From Lillix.com

Catch Lillix in their first TV Commercial on the Grammys!

Acuvue Advance Contact Lenses have made Lillix their pitchwoSpring Campaign (Those in the know are aware that Tasha is a men for their contact lens wearer.) The commercial shows the girls rocking out to Quicksand! Don't miss it on the Grammys but if you do, don't worry, it will be all over TV throughout the spring. There will also be print ads in Teen People, Entertainment Weekly, and In Style.

I know she'd be comfortable wearing what I want to put in her eye for long periods of time.

IN CONCLUSION

And now you know why women in music are so objectified.  They deserve it!  Also barefoot pregnancy.

To recap:

Nickelback:  SUXXX
Katy Rose:  Home of VIDEO ARMAGEDDON!!!
Karen O.:  One of the Original Way-Outs
Fergie:  Reverse Uncle Tom
Brody Dalle:  YASE
Courtney Love:  NYET
Amy Lee:  Not at all exactly like anybody I know.
Avril Lavigne:  Butt Phoenix.
Hilary Duff:  Will go to the ends of the Earth for Garth Brooks, to make him feel her love.
Girl from Lillix: Cum in the eye.
Emily:  imsophiapetrillo@yahoo.com
B: = Best!!11

b@progressiveboink.com

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