OLYMPIA, Wash. — Local “occasional” smoker Samantha Terrett recently realized her secret pack of cigarettes reserved for emergencies was empty for the fifth time this week, coughing sources confirmed.
“I quit smoking sometime around two years ago,” Terrett said, while smoking. “But I’ll admit it, I always kept a sneaky little pack around for emergencies. What can I say, I’m only human. But recently I’ve realized that I might be having more emergencies than normal. Like sure, I had a cigarette a few weeks back when my roommate said she couldn’t pay rent this month and I thought we were going to get evicted. Then I had another one when I had to go grocery shopping while hungover. And then just found myself lighting up after a hard day working from home, but five days in a row. Now I’m replacing the pack daily because every minor inconvenience requires a cigarette.”
Terrett’s therapist June Chaey explained that she sees this behavior often when treating addictions.
“Samantha is doing exactly what any addict does–trying her best to justify her debilitating chemical need for the drug of her choice,” Chaey said from her office filled with ‘90s anti-smoking PSA posters. “She’s on the verge of realizing that her so-called ‘emergency pack’ is literally just her regular pack of cigarettes that she’s decided is somehow allowed. It’s not. She just keeps it in her bedroom drawer with her sex toys like some kind of weird secret. But once she crosses this mental threshold, she has two choices: either she’ll quit for good out of embarrassment, or she’ll accept the fact that she never quit in the first place and continue chain-smoking her 20s away like the rest of us did.”
Marty McClain, a lobbyist and representative for several companies within the “Big Tobacco” umbrella, thinks differently about the “emergency pack” conundrum.
“Don’t listen to a word of psychobabble that so-called therapist tells you,” said McClain while puffing on a comically oversized cigar. “It’s in her best interest to get more sessions with these kids who think they have some sorta mental problem. They don’t, they’re just regular working people who need to relax and unwind now and then. And frankly, we as businessmen in this particular industry rely on their consistent and unbreakable relapses. Nothing is more reliable than a smoker who doesn’t carry the shame of being called a ‘smoker,’ because in their head, they’re just having a moment of need. We need them to crank through a pack a day and still be under the impression that they’re doing well in order to maintain our profit margins.”
As of press time, Terrett was seen buying disposable vapes in bulk.
The worst goregrind ever committed to tape.
Look, Dickens is the greatest novelist of the 19th century, no contest, we admit it. But there’s just no way. Even his most grim novels are full of whimsy and pluck, traits that only have a place in power metal (ew) and Dickens was way too busy coming up with weirdly apt names for his antagonists and diving Scrooge McDuck-style into that sweet sweet serialization and lecture circuit money to be bothered with tour planning or recording sessions. He’s got to make sure little Nell dies in the most absurdly melodramatic way possible at the end of “The Old Curiosity Shop,” there’s no time for this “heavy metal” nonsense.
Milton can’t front a metal band; he’s too busy writing political tracts, shilling for Puritanism, and then narrowly avoiding being killed by the restored King Charles II for that whole thing where he had been an enthusiastic supporter of beheading Charles’ dad back in the 1640s. It’s too bad, because “Paradise Lost” is maybe the most metal book ever written. However, Milton does not want us to listen to metal. Milton wants us to think about sin and feel bad.
Franzen sometimes listens to folk black metal while he birdwatches, and his general “damn kids these days” view of the world is definitely compatible with elder metal performers like Gene Simmons and Glen Benton, but he’s really more of a post-punk guy, and his funeral doom bandmates are going to be really confused when he has them rehearse a song that sounds like Interpol.
Wrote all of his best-known work in prison and was a hardline culture warrior, so the comparisons with Burzum are inevitable and will haunt his band until they break up and/or murder each other.
Wallace was famously socially anxious. I mean, he went on an all-expenses-paid cruise and barely left his cabin. So definitely a bedroom recording project. It’ll start out sounding like 2nd wave black metal, because of course Wallace can basically reproduce the core sound of De Mysteriis dom Sathanas after just listening to it for an hour or two, but once that starts to feel too evil (hideous, even), he’ll shift to post-metal soundscapes. His insistence that anyone who listens to his demo must also read his heavily-footnoted artist’s statement was scorned by everyone except the members of Liturgy.
Shakespeare wrote a roughly equal number of comedies and tragedies, which means he’s willing to shift on a dime from the existential horrors of “Macbeth” or “King Lear” to the freewheeling zaniness of “As You Like It” or “A Midsummer’s Night Dream.” In other words, he’s a Cannibal Corpse fan, and although he can’t do a decent hair-whip to save his life, he’s gonna start his band any day now.
Her band is really hoping the debut album’s moody cover art of misty moors and tortured lovers makes up for the narrative mess of the story, sorry, I mean music.
Lahiri’s characters are mostly neurotic strivers who drink good wine, go to Ivy League schools, read Gogol and Tolstoy for fun, and attend the opera. Their idea of rebelling usually involves listening to the Doors while drinking Budweiser poured over ice. Lahiri knows how to develop a dynamic character like no one’s business, but she also considers Metallica’s Black Album “too intense” and would basically be the worst metal frontwoman imaginable.
Wycherley doesn’t take anything seriously. His most famous work, “The Country Wife,” is basically a five-act joke about impotence and adultery. Even when a character threatens to carve up his own wife’s face, it’s somehow played for laughs. Wycherley will record a demo that most reviewers will diplomatically say sounds more like hard rock than metal, then try to pivot into a stand-up comedy career, which will also go badly.
Once “The Babysitters Club” became so successful that she could rest on her laurels and hire ghostwriters to crank out more installments about a group of middle school entrepreneurs in an impossibly utopian Connecticut suburb, she figured “why NOT start a thrash band?” She is still trying to learn the riff to “Hangar 18” and is starting to regret dropping five grand on a custom-made Jackson that she affectionately calls “The BSC Bruiser.”
He likes to say it’s post-hardcore, but anyone who listens knows this is straight-up emo. The lyrics are impeccably written from a technical standpoint, but so self-pitying that even the guy from Dashboard Confessional thought they were “a bit much.”
An ungodly hybrid of the worst aspects (i.e. all aspects) of Five Finger Death Punch and Insane Clown Posse. Unsettling number of lyrical references to sniper scopes.
First of all, he insists that every release has to be a quintuple LP concept album. Second, all the lyrics are from the perspective of teenage girls writing letters to each other, and then later from the perspective of a 20-something dude writing letters to his friend about how he wants to seduce one of them. The musicianship is sublime, but the lyrics are straight ick.
As established in his poem “An Essay on Criticism,” Pope believed that practice and finely-honed skill, not just an emotional sensibility, were the keys to good poetry, so he’s obviously now in a tech-death band that plays in time signatures no one’s ever heard of. He’s waiting to hear back from Colin Marston any day now about his band Vengeful Sylphs opening for Krallice.
The protagonists from books like “Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing” and “Are You There God, It’s Me Margaret” clearly have a lot of adolescent angst to work out. Unfortunately, the most obvious go-to for this sort of thing is Linkin Park or Slipknot style nu-metal. Judy’s band is a JNCO-clad trainwreck that sounds like a time capsule from 2001, but she’s got this kid named Farley Drexel who absolutely wrecks ass behind the drum kit, and that honestly elevates the whole project a little.
While IDLES’ fourth album is certainly not devoid of ambition, much of the experimentation that defines the record struggles to stand on two legs. On the aptly titled effort, the band seems too timid to fully explore their newfound sonic ambitions and too stubborn to completely abandon their well-worn style. This results in a discontented soundscape that is only consistent in its wavering. It’s kind of like when you spent four years of college darting between majors only to land an Associate of Arts degree; it was an important experience for your overall growth, but ultimately not your most impressive asset.
When crafting Ultra Mono, lead singer Joe Talbot wanted to present an overblown caricature of the band. A sort of purge of the most extreme conceptions and expectations of a punk outfit whose star was rapidly on the rise. For the most part, it shreds, but part of this cleansing process laid bare some of the group’s worst tendencies. The over-simplified politics on tracks like “Grounds” and the self-admitted classist undertones of “Model Village” helped to mark the band’s third full-length as one of their clumsiest. By attempting to lean hard into the lore the group had built by this point, they effectively undercut the humanity they had cultivated over their previous two records.
Yeah, here we go. Right smack dab in the middle. A lot of you will argue that this is their best record, and we won’t blame you for that erroneous thought process. Brutalism is a front-to-back rager that helped solidify the band’s aesthetic while giving their live show the ammo it needed to catapult them into the proverbial stratosphere. Still, some of the group’s most uncomfortable subject matter exists within the runtime as Talbot wrestles with sobriety and his own toxic traits. While it certainly doesn’t undercut the record’s thematic importance, it can make for a tough listen at times.
This album was such a breakthrough that it pretty much soundtracked an entire season of “Peaky Blinders.” Even though that show influenced some of your friend’s shittiest personality quirks and haircuts, it was still a pretty big accomplishment for a band to be featured within the series’ jarring modern score. There was a good reason for the sudden adoration. “Joy As An Act Of Resistance” is a nearly perfect record. Blending Stooges era punk rock with modern lyricism and an unrelenting sequence, the LP essentially cemented IDLES as a household name. Had the fat been trimmed just a bit, it would be unimpeachable.
No doubt everyone in the comments is going to have something to say about this one taking the top spot. Here’s the thing, though: Everyone knows that the people who are actively sending us death threats haven’t bothered to listen to the album. ‘Tangk’ is simultaneously the band’s most ambitious album and IDLES in their purest form. This is the pinnacle to which every other album has been building. Some will argue its instant success is due to its poppier sensibility and nothing more, to which we ask: “What pop music has ever sounded this chaotic and subversive?” Seriously, grow up.
Mayor Richard Wilkins III, the seemingly benign but secretly sinister leader of Sunnydale, would publicly handle a shark attack with his charisma and dark humor. Behind the scenes, he’d manipulate the situation to further his own mysterious plans, leaving the citizens blissfully unaware of the true danger. Wilkins’ delight in chaos would ensure that the beaches remain open and probably be responsible for (or at least benefit from) citizens being eaten.
Mayor Wilson Fisk is more likely to see a shark attack as an opportunity for personal gain rather than a public safety issue. Fisk would leverage the shark attack to manipulate real estate values or eliminate rivals under the guise of public safety efforts. He probably put the shark in the water in the first place. Closing the beaches would only happen if it served his complex and often nefarious schemes. More likely, he’d declare the shark attack a hoax and continue his shady dealings, leaving the citizens to fend for themselves against the lurking threat.
Mayor Larry Kline, the corrupt, disgraced mayor of Hawkins from “Stranger Things,” would prioritize his own interests and those of his political allies over public safety. Kline would downplay or outright dismiss the shark attack to avoid any negative impact on his image. He might even go so far as to suppress information about the threat, ensuring the beaches stay open to keep tourism and commerce flowing. Kline’s actions would be driven by greed and a complete disregard for the well-being of the residents of Hawkins, making him one of the least likely mayors to take appropriate action in the face of danger. Let’s just be glad Indiana is landlocked.
Boss Hogg, the self-serving county commissioner of Hazzard County, would approach a shark attack with his usual blend of greed and disregard for public safety. Known for his shady dealings and schemes to enrich himself at the expense of others, Boss Hogg would exploit the situation for personal gain, even encouraging reckless behavior to maintain his control over the county. His response would be marked by absolute negligence, reflecting his cynical approach to governance and disregard for the safety of the community.
Mayor Tong, the mayor of Earth Kingdom town of Chin Village in “Avatar: The Last Airbender,” is known for his somewhat obstinate and tradition-bound leadership. When faced with a shark attack, his initial reaction would be to dismiss the threat outright. Mayor Tong’s reluctance to deviate from tradition and his skepticism towards new ideas would lead to a delayed and insufficient response. He might be swayed by public opinion or pressure from more proactive community members, but his initial hesitation would compromise the safety of the beaches. Ultimately, his decision to close the beaches would come too late.
“Diamond” Joe Quimby’s response to a shark attack would be a masterclass in political doublespeak and corruption. While he might initially promise to take decisive action, you can bet that behind the scenes, he’s accepting bribes from local businesses to keep the beaches open. The only thing more dangerous than the sharks might be Quimby’s slippery ethics. In the end, Quimby’s primary concern would be his own political survival, leaving the town’s safety a distant second.
Mayor Dwayne Milford, the eccentric and often befuddled mayor of “Twin Peaks,” would convene a town meeting at the Twin Peaks Town Hall to discuss the situation. He would listen attentively to the concerns of Twin Peaks’ residents and consider the potential impact on tourism, which plays a significant role in the town’s economy. However, Mayor Milford’s indecisiveness and tendency to get distracted by local gossip and trivial matters would delay immediate action leaving the window open for more citizens to be attacked. The FBI would have to be called in to handle the situation.
Mayor Roland Schitt, the laid-back and clueless mayor of Schitt’s Creek, would handle a shark attack with a blend of nonchalance and lack of foresight. Known for his casual approach to governance and tendency to prioritize his own comfort and convenience, Roland would initially dismiss the shark sightings as overblown rumors. His reluctance to take swift action would stem from a mix of laziness and a desire to avoid any hassle that could disrupt the town’s daily life. However, with enough urging from the townspeople, Roland might begrudgingly agree to close the beaches. Even then, his efforts would probably be half-hearted and poorly communicated, reflecting his general lack of enthusiasm for serious leadership duties.
Mayor Lenny Klotch, the easily swayed mayor of New York City in the Ghostbusters universe, would approach a shark attack with a mix of skepticism and political calculation. Known for his reliance on public opinion and media coverage, Klotch would hesitate to close the beaches immediately, fearing backlash and negative press. He would initially downplay the threat of the shark, hoping to avoid panic and maintain the city’s reputation as a safe destination. However, faced with mounting evidence and public concern, he would eventually agree to a compromise, such as increased beach patrols and safety measures, rather than a full closure.
Mayor Carcetti, the ambitious and politically savvy leader of Baltimore, would find himself in a difficult position when faced with a shark attack. On one hand, his public image as a reformer would compel him to prioritize public safety and close the beaches. On the other hand, Carcetti’s constant eye on his political future might make him hesitant to disrupt the local economy. He’d call for a series of bureaucratic commissions and expert panels to deliberate the issue, ultimately deciding to close the beaches—but only after exhausting all possible political capital and ensuring maximum media coverage to boost his profile.
The Mayor of Halloweentown, with his two-faced personality and perpetual state of mild panic, would have a hard time making a definitive decision about closing the beaches. While one side of him would be in a frenzy, shouting about the dangers of the shark and the need for immediate action, the other side would be overly optimistic, possibly seeing the shark attack as an opportunity to make Halloweentown even more macabre.
The Mayor of Munchkin City would respond to a shark attack with a mixture of concern for his fellow Munchkins and a desire to maintain harmony. Known for his diplomatic skills, the Mayor would convene an emergency meeting in the Munchkin City Hall, accompanied by a lively discussion among the Lollipop Guild and other Munchkin representatives. He would weigh the potential risks of keeping the beaches open against the economic impact, which thrives on tourism from visitors to the Land of Oz. Ultimately, his decision to close the beaches would hinge on balancing safety concerns with the whimsical spirit of Oz, ensuring that Munchkinland remains a vibrant and secure community amidst the wonders of the magical realm.
Mayor Lewis, the amiable and absent-minded mayor of Stardew Valley, would likely approach a shark attack with a mix of concern for public safety and a desire to maintain the town’s tranquil atmosphere. While he values the well-being of the community, his tendency to prioritize the town’s festivals and events might delay immediate action. His commitment to the townspeople and his sense of duty would lead him to make the cautious decision to close the beaches, ensuring everyone’s safety while trying to avoid causing unnecessary panic. However, he might also use the opportunity to plan a “Shark Day” event; complete with educational booths and a fishing contest to try and catch the beast.
Burgermeister Meisterburger, the grumpy and authoritarian leader of Sombertown, would respond to a shark attack as another opportunity to exert his control over the town. Instead of closing the beaches for safety reasons, he would decree that swimming is now illegal altogether, citing the danger of aquatic creatures as a reason to further restrict the town’s happy activities. Meisterburger would assign his bumbling henchmen, the Kringles, to patrol the shores and ensure compliance with his draconian rules. While other mayors may prioritize safety and community welfare, Meisterburger’s rigid adherence to authority would ensure that the beaches remain closed—and joyless—under his eye.
The Mayor of Townsville, a bumbling but well-meaning official, would respond swiftly to a shark attack with genuine concern for the safety of Townsville’s citizens. Known for his dramatic flair and tendency to overreact to emergencies, the Mayor would call an immediate press conference, urging everyone to stay calm while emphasizing the severity of the situation. He would declare a temporary closure of the beaches, accompanied by a series of overly dramatic public service announcements featuring himself and the Powerpuff Girls. Despite his occasional clumsiness, the Mayor’s dedication to protecting Townsville from harm would ultimately prevail, ensuring that beachgoers are safe from shark attacks.
Mayor “Goldie” Wilson, with his optimistic catchphrase “Progress is His Middle Name,” would approach a shark attack with a blend of caution and can-do spirit. As a progressive leader aiming to improve Hill Valley, he’d close the beaches, but not without first delivering a rousing speech about safety and community. Wilson’s primary concern would be ensuring the well-being of his constituents, and he’d implement a plan to both deal with the shark and reassure the public that Hill Valley’s beaches will be safer than ever. However, his tendency to see the bright side of everything might delay immediate action by just a smidge.
Mayor Sam Booth, the kindly and well-meaning mayor of Cabot Cove from “Murder, She Wrote,” would approach a shark attack with a genuine concern for the safety of his townsfolk. Mayor Booth would take the threat seriously, consulting with experts and law enforcement to assess the situation. Encouraged by his friend Jessica Fletcher’s logical persuasion, Booth’s actions would reflect his commitment to safeguarding Cabot Cove, even if it means making difficult decisions for the greater economic good.
Mayor McCheese would prioritize the safety of McDonaldland’s whimsical citizens first and foremost. Known for his good-hearted leadership and commitment to the well-being of the community, McCheese would close the beaches promptly after a shark attack, possibly after a brief consultation with Ronald McDonald – who, we all know, is the true power behind the throne. With his entire head being made of a cheeseburger, the threat of being consumed (be it by shark or human) would be an ever-looming existential threat for the mayor.
Mayor Bob White, the affable and community-oriented mayor of Bluffington in the animated series Doug, would approach a shark attack with a focus on ensuring the safety and well-being of his town’s residents. Known for his dedication to public service and his friendly demeanor, Mayor White would respond swiftly to the threat posed by the shark, prioritizing public safety above all else. His decisive action to close the beaches would demonstrate his leadership and dedication to protecting the interests of Bluffington’s citizens during times of crisis.
Mayor Mike Haggar, the tough and no-nonsense mayor of Metro City in the Final Fight video game series, would approach a shark attack with resolve and dedication to public safety. Known for his background as a former professional wrestler and his hands-on approach to crime-fighting, Haggar would view the shark attack as a serious threat to the citizens of Metro City. He would mobilize the Metro City Police Department and organize emergency response teams to assess the situation and ensure swift action and hunt the shark down. He may even attempt to fight the shark himself. His decisive action to close the beaches would demonstrate his leadership and determination to maintain order and security in Metro City – although some might see his actions as authoritarian and heavy-handed.
Mayor H.R. Pufnstuf, the friendly and caring mayor of Living Island, would almost certainly prioritize the safety of his whimsical constituents. Given his track record of helping his friends out of tight spots and his generally protective nature, Pufnstuf would close the beaches immediately after a shark attack to ensure no one gets hurt. He’d organize a community meeting with his magical friends to come up with a solution, possibly involving a musical number to raise spirits and educate everyone on beach safety. His commitment to the well-being of Living Island’s residents makes him a highly responsible leader in times of crisis.
Mayor Enta, the wise and compassionate leader of Hearthome City in the Pokemon world, would prioritize the safety and well-being of his town’s residents above all else. Known for his deep connection to nature and the sea, Mayor Enta would respond swiftly and decisively to a shark attack, immediately closing the beaches to ensure that trainers, locals, and Pokemon alike are protected from harm. He would gather the community and issue a heartfelt plea for everyone to exercise caution and respect the ocean’s creatures. Mayor Enta’s leadership would be marked by empathy and a profound understanding of the delicate balance between humans and Pokemon in their coastal habitat.