Well then… how’s everyone been? Sorry for the lapse. Apparently Paul Newman’s death really affected me. Look for more in a few.
This is the douchiest phone message in history. Run, Olga. Run for your life.
Bob has had the same away message since June: “I often think to myself ‘What makes Roy Williams any better than Christ?’ and I still haven’t come up with an answer.”
…A special message, left for the man who constantly leaves the newspaper spread out on the bathroom floor at work.
Sure, you may say, it’s OK. Lot’s of people like Coldplay. They’re one of the most popular bands in the world. It’s acceptable to appreciate the soft melodies and politically-conscious lyrics and the guyliner and the “Make Trade Fair” stuff and … oh, I think I just made myself sick.
I guess it’s not much of a secret to those of you that know me (which, as of now, is probably the sole readership of this thing) but I have been known to exhibit questionable taste at times – like, for instance, the other day when I begged off a free dinner invitation from my sister because I had to make it home in time to see Road House 2 on Spike (see: Things I Am Ashamed To Like, Vol 37). It’s as my friend Bob says, “I don’t so much accept these things, as I accept that they happened and, well, I can look beyond it I suppose.”
Anyway, let’s dissect this thing a little further so that we can arrive at a little something my therapist calls “desperately-needed closure.”
Why I Should Be Ashamed:
I think this pretty much sums it up. At some point Coldplay went from being the kind of dorky but likeable band that reminded everyone of non-depressing Radiohead to three dudes, Chris Martin and his magical, pulsating, purple lightning-spewing hands. Look at how intense the drummer is; he has little to no role in this commercial (or band really), but damned if he isn’t going to sing the shit out of his background vocals. Watching him is just damned depressing, like watching The Last Waltz and seeing Robbie Robertson sing his little heart out on that microphone that was secretly turned off.
…and then there’s Chris. Granted, I realize he’s the lead singer in one of the biggest bands in the world and he’s married to a Hollywood superstar and all, but “Holy self-important, Batman” can one human being really take themselves THAT seriously all the time. Favorite Chris Martin quote: “A name is just a noise, and if you like it then fuck what everyone else thinks.” And I, for one, concur; when I name my first-born Untitled Asshole Alexander, I know for one that I won’t let the tears from getting his ass kicked for such a shitty name phase me, because they’re just white noise after all.
Anyway, back to the video, my initial reaction was that it was gayer than two dudes getting it on. My second reaction was that, hey, it’s kind of catchy. My third reaction was to curse Chris Martin for his hooks and to just drink away the impure thoughts (“No, Jesus. It’s not like that. I swear.”)
Why I Pretend Not To Care What You Think About This:
Because Coldplay is just noise, bland, atmospheric, pleasant and easy-to-ignore noise and I like it (Hey, thanks Chris!). So I don’t give a fuck what you think.
Listening to an overabundance of Coldplay can lead to weeping, a heightened emotional state and possible male menopause. I think I need to get back in touch with the testosterone within. I’m going to go watch Road House and eat a steak, extra rare.
p.s. lest you think I hate Coldplay, here is my favorite song: Amsterdam