It’s an annual tradition for the straight edge scene elders to convene and discuss potential rule changes to make being straight edge less appealing and more alienating than ever.
During this process, the scene elders ask several questions about each potential rule change:
- Will this make people dislike us more?
- How pointless is this?
- Will this make it even harder for an acquaintance to do something nice for you?
Today we are reviewing all the potential rule changes that could be enacted as soon as the current straight edge season ends.
Banning Chapstick/Lip Balm
This has been a sticking point for many hardline straight edgers for years. A representative from Salt Lake City submitted evidence of a young TikToker saying “I’m so addicted to my lip balm, I like can’t live without it” and posited that using lip moisturizing products is worse than heroin.
A Complete Ban on All Mushrooms
Members of the Boston hardcore scene remain steadfast in their belief that every variety of mushroom contains some sort of psychedelic element. This is a “better safe than sorry” proposal in order to protect straight edge scene members from accidentally expanding their mind.
Enacting Healthy Sleep Schedules
Under this proposal, every straight edger must get at least 7 hours of sleep a night. Anything less will be considered an edge break akin to smoking two packs of cigarettes.
Pilgrimage to the Dischord House Steps
Every adult straight edger must make this pilgrimage once in their life. If they do not do it before their death they will not be allowed to be buried with their favorite straight edge merch or have any straight edge songs played at their funeral
Banning Any Use of Hemp
Members of the straight edge community remain unclear as to what exactly “hemp” is. This ban would include eating hemp seeds, and would penalize any member of the scene whot used hemp rope in their necklaces in the ‘90s.
Reversing Ban on Sunscreen
In 2021 the elders enacted a ban on sunscreen, following a sharp increase in terrible sun burns at outdoor music festivals and skin cancer, members of the Florida scene are proposing this rule be reversed.
Banning the Use of Anesthetics During Medical Procedures
This one is pretty straight forward. If you need mind-altering chemicals while a medical professional removes your appendix then maybe the straight edge lifestyle isn’t for you.
Reclassifying People Who Call Themselves Straight Edge But Have No Connection to Punk/Hardcore
A large faction of people were introduced to straight edge through mainstream personalities like CM Punk but have no connection to the history of straight edge, under this proposal these people would not be allowed to call themselves straight edge and must adopt a new term to be determined later. CM Punk himself will not be affected by this change.
Points of Clarification
The “Don’t Fuck” Rule
Lots of people believe this means a “ban on pre-marital sex.” The scene elders clarified they also don’t really know what this should actually mean and continue to encourage any straight edger to participate in sex on the rare occasions it actually happens.
CBD
The California straight edge scene reminded the larger community that they do not recognize CBD as a drug and do not see its use as an edge break.
Just a nice, semi-romantic lakeside ghost tale. Not a drop of piss. Oh actually no there is one. Hmm.
Tugs at the heartstrings a bit maybe but just not that scary. Still a few more drops of piss though, curious.
A ‘90s teen twist on the legend of The Headless Horseman. I swear it wasn’t scary and yet there are clearly fresh piss drops here. Am I just like slowly leaking piss all the time and just now noticing? It’s soaking through multiple layers.
This one is honestly more whimsy than horror, and whatever issue I was having with piss seems to have righted itself. No wait there it goes again, what the fuck I just changed my underwear!
What could be scarier than an art class?! The answer is obviously lots of stuff. Okay, there’s a straight-up spot now. Did I put on dirty underwear by mistake? This is a Stephen King-sized piss stain, I don’t know what’s going on.
Jeffrey Dahmer lived in apartment 213, is she meant to be his neighbor? This Large Marge light story I would call spooky, but not scary, and yet the spot is bigger! Definitely not just the underwear, something is up with me.
This was a weird one and I’ve always appreciated the campiness of it, but in terms of fear there should be zero piss in my shorts and there is more than that, I could probably fill a water balloon at this point. Am I drinking too much water?
This one scared some of the piss out of me for sure. Not this much piss though. Some of this piss is definitely not fear-related, I’m a little alarmed. Could I be diabetic?
You never forget the taste of fear. You never forget the smell of fear either. It smells like piss. Okay yeah, the piss-to-fear ratio is way off here. Way off. Maybe a quick peak at WebMD is in order.
Definitely a few solid jump-scare moments in this spooky graveyard tale. One of them gave me a little spritz, but then several full-on spurts after that I can’t really explain. I’m 29, this is not right.
Okay there’s a lot more pee this time, but look at that guy. He looks like some kind of piss demon. I’m gonna just chalk this one up to the episode. I’m gonna go get all my piss out before the next ep, change underwear one more time, and hope that whatever was going on with me is done and I can stop worrying.
This one was a lot scarier back when I was a kid and librarians were still a force to be reckoned with, but watching it through adult eyes… God, more piss? I like, JUST went. What’s wrong with my body?
Scary stuff, but if I had to pick the scariest wizard I’m dealing with right now, it would be ME! Wizzin’ all over the goddamn place! I am straight-up damp. This is not normal. Am I still on Mom’s insurance?
This ghost story centering around the mystery of a girl killed on her way to the prom in the ‘50s warrants some urine, but this?! It’s getting on the couch now!
Here’s a scary story for ya, the tale of the soggy bottoms. Jesus, I am a MESS, piss-wise.
Grandma Arbuckle is in retirement and now a greeter at Wal-Mart, with a very low likelihood of workplace violence. The only thing anyone could blame her for was gossip. She absolutely lives for it. It’s actually caused problems with some of the customers, since her questions are far too probing. A manager at the nearest location was having an affair with someone in the warehouse where she worked, and that gossip alone absolutely made her month. It was like instant Christmas for Grandma Arbuckle. Besides occasionally pocketing batteries for the “clicker,” Grandma Arbuckle is mostly harmless.
Yes, this is Garfield’s teddy bear and best friend. Innocent, right? Wrong. Never disregard potential threats in the office. Sometimes it’s the quiet ones that suddenly lash out with a stapler. There’s mischief brewing in those lifeless eyes, black eyes, like a doll’s eyes. They might not respond to your email out of spite. They might not even talk to you. Then again, Pooky can’t talk. The worst you might get is a passive-aggressive door slam, if Pooky can even reach the knob.
Who doesn’t love Odie? Sure he can be mischievous towards Garfield, but this is often in retaliation for some annoying-as-fucking prank Garfield has pulled. He mostly wants to just hang around you and happily drool. The worst Odie might do is accidentally rummage through your desk looking for treats or chew your desk calendar up. Property destruction and vandalism is never tolerable. He’s a dog, what do you want?
Lyman disappeared from the Garfield newspaper strip in 1983 and hasn’t been seen since. Every company worries about that one distant disgruntled past employee unceremoniously fired, the one who promised to return while being carried out by security. Who else has been sending your office cryptic threats pasted together with individual letters cut from People magazine? It has to be Lyman, with his classic antagonist mustache and misleading smile. Report any tactics of intimidation, especially if Lyman begins standing across the street from the office “reading the newspaper” wearing nothing but a peacoat and mirrored sunglasses.
When you work in service and people don’t tip, it is understandably upsetting and tempting to seek revenge. That’s what lands Irma in trouble every time. She has thrown mugs at non-tippers, has even followed them out screaming. She has poured cement mix into gasoline tanks, and has not washed her hands when serving rude customers. Any minor upset with staff will result in her giving a month’s long silent treatment, as though conversation with her was a fucking treasure. Best just to nod and smile at her small talk. Do not accept her Facebook friend request.
Garfield is likely too lazy to ever actually cause any harm. He is mostly a constant grump, which honestly fits into most American corporate culture. But he also has a long memory and is constantly biding time for his own revenge. He has these ominous lists in his room, scribbled on the back of long CVS receipts, new names added each week after any minor altercation. What is he planning on doing with those lists? You go out of your way to be nice to Garfield, but it doesn’t seem to work. Nothing makes Garfield happy, except when it’s 4:59pm, when this lazy cat becomes an Olympic runner heading for the door.
Garfield’s Mother is the one that’s been around forever, employed since day one. And somehow she is the biggest bully of them all. Nearing complete bitterness and dripping with cruelty, Garfield’s Mother is every judgmental co-worker that you’ve ever worked with. They call you unwanted nicknames. They talk about you behind your back. But they also eat garbage from the back courtyard of an Italian restaurant, so you try not to judge. There’s clearly something wrong going on here. They smell like old halibut. Despite their personal hygiene, Garfield’s Mom is still employed since the company somehow can’t function without her.
Everyone knows a short king constantly trying to prove themselves, and that’s Squeak the mouse. Way, way too sensitive. Always getting into fights in the parking lot, or challenging people over any perceived threat. Overdoes it with the cologne. One time at a work conference, Squeak pulled a dude’s clip-tie off and threw it into a corporate fountain. You don’t think Squeak would ever actually get into a real brawl, but he’s reckless. Too reckless. Squeak was an unfortunate choice as a new “work lunch friend” during the first week or so. You’ve avoided him ever since, even though he hits you up on Slack all the time about your lunch plans.
Jamey and the boys somehow missed the memo that your self-titled album is supposed to be your first while you’re still in your awkward my-stepdad-said-we-could-practice-in-his-basement phase and not ten years in. I know they say don’t judge a book by its cover but the opposite rules apply for albums. The art on this looks like the designer was getting paid by the number of Photoshop layers they could add and the music has that same “we recorded all the ideas at once” vibe.
“Here’s to burning out and here’s to fading away – Fuck you both, I just put it to the torch.” Probably the best line on the album and I don’t want to say that Hatebreed is either burning out or fading away on this one but the flames rising off their logo might seem a little dimmer. I may be alone in this but sometimes standing for what you believe means standing alone. I heard that in a song once. 
2020 was a hard year. And I don’t really mean Covid, the riots, the rise of global fascism, or just the general unraveling of everything decent and sane about society. The worst part was the lack of new music. So it was great that we got a new album from Hatebreed. It was a nice temporary escape from the shit storm but much like a lot of things from 2020, it’s not really something you need to revisit.
What’s the most badass way to start an album? If you said anything other than a reprise of the mosh outro from your previous album you are dead wrong. Trying to capture the same secret sauce they had on “Perseverance” there are a lot of the same tricks here. Unfortunately, just like how I’m crashing from drinking all that Monster Energy, this album runs out of steam the further on into it you get.
Dropping an album this good twenty years into your career shouldn’t even be legal. Not resting on their laurels for even a fucking second this is their most overtly metal album with a variety of influences on full display. There are moments of both ‘80s thrash and ‘90s groove metal and actual flesh-melting solos making this their most musically diverse album. Oh, and what’s that? They forgot to bring the mosh? Try again, motherfucker.
Five angry white guys screaming the word “supremacy” in 2023 would probably be unadvisable but in 2006 it was forgivable. Limp Bizkit once had a cringe-tastic hit with “Break Stuff” which I would assume is about being a full-grown ass adult who has no impulse control and throws a temperature tantrum over a slight inconvenience? Hatebreed seems to set those clowns straight with how to actually do it here with “Destroy Everything.”
I mean, I mentioned it in the intro so of course it was going to be in the top 2. A lot of the olds out there would tell you this is their best album and they really have a strong argument. For better or for worse (in some cases much worse) this was the album that gave the world metalcore. This is surely the soundtrack for many old hardcore dudes who find themselves crowd-killing in their car alone while inching along in traffic on the way to their soul-crushing bullshit job (hypothetically speaking.)
Vin Diesel jumping out of a plane with a snowboard attached to his feet while guzzling a SoBe energy drink so he can somehow defeat the bad guys in “XXX” while “I Will Be Heard” plays in the background is the peak moment of the 2000s and maybe even just human history in general. The production of this album is in that sweet spot of being just raw enough to give it street cred while actually mixed well enough so you can hear everything. Jasta loses the negativity to his lyricism from Satisfaction and switches gears to become the hardest motivational speaker you’ve ever seen. Fuck you, Tony Robbins.
