Anthropologists Believe Cro-Mags May Have Used Pro Tools In Late Hardcore Phase

COLLEGE PARK, Md. – A new study suggests that the Cro-Mags may have used Pro Tools in the Late Hardcore Phase, contradicting earlier theories about the group’s ability to advance into modern times.

“For decades the academic community has accepted that the Cro-Mags could never have used Pro Tools, given their limited cognitive abilities and general lack of interest in literally anything mainstream,” said Dr. Brianna Foster of the Hardcore Institute’s Anthropologic Department. “The evidence, however, is all over, and I’m not referring to ‘The Age of Quarrel,’ that shit is legit. I’m talking about the Late Hardcore Phase, post millennium era. I don’t even need to show you hard evidence, just listen to the catalog–everything sounds a little too perfect, and there’s even a shift in release format. Why did they stop issuing vinyl? How’s that for a fucking sign?”

Cro-Mags fans were surprised and shocked at the revelation, including Dave Van Noik, who doubts the validity of the study’s findings.

“Analog–I’m talking about tape, here–is the only way to study the fossil record. It’s real, it’s raw, you ain’t gonna find the Cro-Mags on a fucking computer,” said Van Noik, getting increasingly agitated. “Late Hardcore Phase is so vague too, what is that supposed to be? This ain’t Third Wave Ska or Proto-Punk, it’s Hardcore, and it cannot be subdivided by some scientist nerd that has never stepped foot near a mosh pit and certainly has never done a stage dive.”

Steven Drenning of the Smithsonian Institute’s Museum of Natural History fears yet another schism in the hardcore community based on recent findings.

“Chaos, utter chaos, that’s what this leads to. Sometimes I think the academic community is just trying to stir shit up for no reason at all. The average hardcore fan does not give a fuck how a record is made, they just want to memorize the lyrics as fast as possible so they can look cool singing along at a live show,” said Drenning, gazing wistfully at a photo of Ian MacKaye circa 1981 A.D. “We’ve examined the records extensively, and I can conclusively say everything up to ‘Near Death Experience’ is done without Pro Tools or Logic or anything remotely modern or functional.”

“Besides, most of us at the Smithsonian kinda checked out when the Cro-Mags started taking each other to court over stupid legal bullshit, though,” added Drenning.

At press time, Dr. Foster was said to be preparing a definitive list of the entire population of the Cro-Mags, though others claim such a feat is impossible.

Photo by Selbymay.

Uh Oh: I Took 500MG of DMT and Even the Intergalactic Elves Just Told Me To Get a Job

Bad news, folks. This weekend I went on one of my journeys into the spiritual realm to convene with the higher beings and, rather than imparting zen wisdom, this time they just sat me down and told me to get a job.

“Why are things going wrong in my life?” I asked as soon as I caught glimpse of the guy. “Hit me with that spiritual truth. What is it? My failure to accept mortality? My attachment to ego-driven success? I can take anything.”

Nothing could have prepared me for what he said next, which was just: “I think maybe you should just get a job, man.”

Huh?? Aren’t you supposed to tell me to let go of earthly attachments or something?

“Yeah, normally we say that, but I don’t think you have any more to let go of. Unless you want to give away your mother’s basement couch or what you call your ‘good socks.’”

I was just as surprised as the rest of you to find out that even the intergalactic elves are starting to sound just like my fucking dad. Classic society, getting to people’s heads even in the sixth dimension. This guy was going on and on about the “hierarchy of needs,” when I thought the whole point of taking DMT was to blast to the top of the pyramid and completely bypass the bottom three. I started to worry if this was a waste of a trip, especially since I had scrounged my last $35 and library card to purchase the stuff. I tried persuading the guy a little more since he was not acting like his usual self.

“Come on man, blow on that little elephant pipe and make the walls have sex with me again.”

But to my disappointment, he awkwardly declined.

“Sorry man, I don’t do that anymore. It’s only fun with people who make at least $20k. Otherwise it just starts to get sad.”
Well, the fuck am I supposed to do now? I have 8 more hours left of this DMT trip to sit with the fact that my life sucks not due to the inherent suffering in life but due to the fact that I’m kind of lazy and have no health insurance. Talk about a high-killer.

“I don’t know, have you looked on Indeed?” he replied.

“How the fuck do you know about Indeed? You’re a sixth dimensional elf.”

“How do you think I got this job? I used to be a script supervisor for Disney.”

After that it was a lot of staring at the floor while he made insincere offers to pass on my resume. The good news is, no matter what this dude says, unless he is telling me everything is going just fine in my life, he’s not even real. I may be unemployed, but he’s nothing but a visual projection of my subconscious mind, and I can easily pass it off as a bad trip until he starts telling me what I want to hear again. Who’s out of a job now, motherfucker?

Eco-Conscious Punk Pretends Never Getting Driver’s License Was An Environmental Thing

PORTLAND, Ore.—Sage Copeland, who has never driven a day in his life, is adamant that his automobile abstinence is an environmental thing and nothing else, the 32-year-old vegan confirmed.

“Cars are destroying our planet, full stop, end of story,” said Copeland, breathing heavily as he walked his fixed-gear bike up a hill. “I would never in a million years make our dear mother Gaia choke on the wretched combustion of fossil fuels. I don’t even ride on public transportation anymore—anywhere I can’t get on my bike isn’t worth getting to. Just because I don’t happen to have the actual state-issued form of identification doesn’t mean that I’ve never passed a driver’s test. It means I’m protesting on behalf of the Earth herself.”

Copeland’s roommate Denise Lopez, however, offered a slightly different side of the story.

“Did Sage mention that he’s banned from taking Portland public transit after smoking cloves and drinking kratom on three separate TriMet buses?” asked Lopez, cleaning up someone else’s spilled PBR in the living room of their co-op. “He also probably didn’t tell you he showed up drunk as hell to his last driving test after trying to ‘calm his nerves’ with a gallon of homemade hard kombucha. He’s literally not allowed to enter any Oregon DMV location until like 2030. And honestly, he’s just one of those vaguely gay dudes who can’t drive. It’s a whole thing.”

A spokesperson for the state’s Driver & Motor Vehicles division confirmed that Copeland has in fact tried to obtain his driver’s license at least a handful of times.

“We aren’t normally permitted to speak on personal cases, but since Mr. Copeland’s kombucha-vomit-covered mugshot went viral last year, the public is already well aware of this individual and his prior attempts to become a licensed driver in Oregon,” explained Stan Nelson. “ Mr. Copeland, four years ago, inhaled nitrous oxide from a balloon while stopped at a red light. Thankfully, the instructor was able to shift the car into park while the driver laughed until he passed out. He’s simply lucky that the environmentalist angle has fooled his peers, family, and colleagues for this long.”

At press time, Copeland was seen begging a member of his co-op for a ride to the dispensary.

Odd: My Encyclopedic Knowledge of Eastern European Folk Horror Films Isn’t Attracting Women

Just like the bower bird with his bower or the black widow spider with his lively rump dance, human men often go to great lengths to impress potential mates. Some show off how much money they have. Some show off what kind of car they drive. Everyone tries to display their skill at something. For me, it’s Eastern European Folk Horror films, typically from the 60s and 70s. But if I know so many of them, why am I not getting laid?

I’m around so many arty-art girls. So many women who watched “Pearl” and “Midsommar” and (I assume) “Elektra” and just really felt seen by those films’ female gaze. Why is knowing about Eastern European folk horror any different?

Take “Valerie and Her Week of Wonders” (former Czechoslovakia, 1970). It’s a beautiful dream-like depiction of a thirteen-year-old girl, haunted by aging vampires and lustful priests, all in the springtime of her menarche. That’s art-girl stuff right there. It’s basically “Lady Bird” and “Twilight” put together. I assume. Never seen either. Why don’t women want me!?

I’m a simple man. I’m interested in two things: Criterion releasing a cover of “Viy” (former Soviet Union, 1967) and dating a girl who wears a choker even to formal events. I don’t think that’s too much to ask for. My friend Joel met his wife because they liked the same kinds of movies. And Joel watches garbage films. He thinks Scorsese is arthouse for God’s sake. He thinks that Buñuel is “too confusing.” Garbage. Smooth-brained garbage. And yet… alone am I.

Yes, not one woman has responded to my repeated texts of “‘Leptirica’ and chill?” It’s like they think I’m being weird. It’s not like I’m saying “Oh, come by and watch “‘Hagazusa’” (Austria, 2017). There’s literally never been a better girly-girl movie than “Leptirica.” (former Yugoslavia, 1973). Everyone on folk-horror Reddit is always talking about how Petar Božović is so baby-girl-coded in that movie.

But don’t despair for me completely. If you thought I had given up hope in using my love for the Eastern esoteric to find love from a woman, then you’d be wrong. Last month, I self-published a very well-respected monograph on “The White Reindeer” (Finland, 1952) and as a result, my DMs are gradually being slid into by copious quantities of Finnish foxes who want to move to America and marry me just as soon as I can send them some money to buy the plane tickets.

Florida Government Awards $500M In Grant Money To Research Cargo Shorts That Keep Balls From Sticking To Leg

TALLAHASSEE, Fla. — The Florida Legislature announced the passing of a bill securing $500 million in grant money to develop a special cargo short that would prevent the scrotum from sticking to the leg in humid conditions, excited sources confirmed.

“Our great state has its issues: prescription drug abuse, hurricanes, rising tides, school textbooks, barbed wire tattoos, you name it. But this is the issue I hear about the most in our district by an overwhelming margin. Men are spending thousands of dollars extra on proper bottom wear each year and I think the people as a whole are fed up,” said Florida Senator Sonny McDermot. “So we were quick to get this pushed through the legislature; you’ll notice this spending bill was bipartisan and unanimous. The Florida government really works for the people.”

Scientists from state universities were quick to support the spending initiative with their research.

“Our study concluded that the average Florida man spends 13% of his day unsticking his balls from his hairy thigh,” reported Florida State University post-doctoral Fellow Dylan Keith. “Go outside in any town and you’ll no doubt see two or three guys doing that funny walk thing to free their scrotum. We call that the Florida Three Step. Now, this grant allows us to answer the question: what if that time was spent elsewhere? What could we accomplish? Think about 13% more jetski time, or more doing bath salts in the swamp time. Think about the implications of that.”

Many local residents like Braden Daniels expressed a reignited faith in civics after the passing of the spending bill.

“I just think it’s ridiculous that there’s this one issue that only affects dudes, and we’re penalized for it. If this experience has taught me anything, it’s that apparently writing to your Senator really does work,” said Daniels. “All it takes is one letter. I’d urge everyone who wants something to change to take the time to handwrite a note and mail it to the government. Then boom, equity happens. I’m proud of the government for taking a step towards gender equality.”

Press representatives from the Florida government confirmed that, once developed, the cargo shorts would be fully covered under all health insurance plans, with funding being redirected from the school system.

Opinion: I Sure Hope I Don’t Get Murdered at This Dinner Party Full of Colorful Eccentrics

What an incredible dinner party this is! I’ve never been in such a gorgeous yet oddly period non-specific mansion before, and definitely not one in such an isolated location where not even the police could reach anyone for hours.

Plus, I’ve never been surrounded by so many colorful eccentrics and devices that, while seeming innocuous, could potentially be used as a murder weapon. I sure hope none of them are used to murder me!

Now, it feels like it would be pretty unusual for someone to get killed at a dinner party, even if Commodore Cinnabar over there is staring way too intensely over me while weighing a sharp-edged Whiskey Decanter in his hand. But it could be that the horrible sights he has seen in his years in whatever undefined military he belongs to have just made him need a drink. I know I would!

Really, I have to get over the idea that someone would murder me at a dinner party of color-coded individuals who each seem to have professions that are easy to illustrate using broad caricatures. After all, why would someone kill me? Let alone Dr. Vermillion, currently toying with a heavy Butter Dish or Madame Eggshell-White, making jabbing motions at me with the Carving Fork.

My therapist says I need to work on these intrusive thoughts.

It’s just like that time I went to the will reading of my great-great-grand-uncle from Transylvania that I never knew I had and was worried that I might have to spend a night in some kind of castle, potentially a haunted one. What a silly worry that was!

However, it is odd that no one but me seems to be eating. After all, the almost entirely unseen staff of this mansion that we were all invited to via anonymous letters that promised to reveal a very important secret once we had dessert and cheese worked hard on this meal. It really would be a shame to let this goose in aspic go to waste!

Oh great, now we’re retiring to the parlor. I bet everything goes well in there. Things almost always do in parlors, in my experience.

Now, all we have to do is wait for our mysterious host to get here! Then I’m going to stab the fuck out of him.

Boy Caught Playing Bass After Lying to Mom About Being Out With Friends Doing Drugs

DARBY, Penn. — Local punk mother Janelle Zander was mortified to discover her son, whom she believed was out partying with friends, was actually diligently practicing bass, ashamed sources confirmed.

“It’s supremely cliche to say, but, you know, it’s not that I’m mad…I’m just deeply disappointed. As a parent, you try and try to raise someone of substance and worth, and here I am screwing up and raising an, ugh, upstanding citizen,” said Zander, as she received a stick-and-poke that read ‘MOTHER (I’M REFERRING TO MYSELF)’. “The worst part is, I know Matthew was lying about the ‘friends’ part of his alibi too now. There’s no bass player I’ve ever heard of who has any social circle whatsoever. Soon I suppose I’ll be finding out that he’s moved on to fretless or, I can’t even bring myself to say it…upright. Why oh why couldn’t he have taken to the acid-taking aspect of Flea’s personality and not the BASS-playing one?”

Zander’s teenage son says this is all a giant misunderstanding.

“It-it wasn’t mine! I was just slapping and popping it for a friend, so the strings wouldn’t get stiff, honest! I didn’t even like the sound! I thought it was a guitar, it’s not my fault they look so similar!” said the 13-year-old, while half-heartedly attempting to sound high. “I was going to go out and do some drugs right after, I promise! All sorts of drugs, like the ones they taught us in D.A.R.E…but, uh, they didn’t teach me! I wasn’t even paying attention, so I’m still going to do lots of them! In fact that’s how I got the instrument, I was just looking to freebase, but ended up with a free bass! Yeah, you can see why things got mixed up! So, can I have it back?”

Hector Schirripa, a guidance counselor at Penn Wood Middle, expressed his concern that Zander’s path could be a rocky one.

“Well, it goes without saying that we here at his school will be recommending suspension, that’s for sure. Although, between you and me, that usually affords the little delinquents more free time to explore the seedy depths of the low-end, so I don’t foresee that being a solution in the long run,” said a mournful Schirripa. “I tell you, how these things are still legal I’ll never understand. Teaching is often rewarding, but one downside is you see more than your fair share of youth get corrupted by the likes of your Claypools and Bootsy Collins’. There’s only so much guidance you can give a kid once they’ve bought their first Jaco Pastorious LP. After that, all you can do is just hope and pray it doesn’t lead to a jam band.”

At press time, Zander was heard trying to convince his mother the Bass Player magazines under his bed were just “oddly-themed issues of Hustler.”

Six Songs We’re Listening To This Week That Are Probably Too Woke For Noel Gallagher

Well, it’s been another terrifying week but you’ve made it through with your heart, brain, and most of your fingers intact. Oh, we almost forgot about your ears. If the ringing has stopped from your neighbor’s marathon fireworks show, you’ll probably want to warm them back up with some new tunes. We’ve got just the thing for you. Here are six new songs to help ease your physical and metaphysical woes.

The Voidz ‘Overture’

For the first time in nearly six years, The Voidz are releasing a new album entitled ‘Like All Before You.’ In contrast to the vibe of the album title and in typical Voidz fashion, the lead single ‘Overture’ is an ominous and brooding synth instrumental that definitely isn’t making us scared for the full album at all. It’s hard to say how much more we’ll get to hear before the whole thing drops, but we’re drafting our wills now just in case.

Honeyglaze ‘Cold Caller’

Someone on the internet recently said we don’t listen to enough UK bands. First off, we don’t care what that person thinks of us. Secondly, it really bothers us that they said that. Especially when considering how hyped we are Honeyglaze’s new LP. The latest single, ‘Cold Caller,’ is a dizzying indie ode to feeling so lonely that you’d willingly chat with telemarketers or, in our case, that jerk in our comment section.

Show Me the Body ‘It Burns’

It wasn’t the holiday that made us slow to respond to your emails. We just blacked out for a full 48 hours after hearing Show Me the Body’s new single ‘It Burns.’ Good god, it’s heavy. Maybe learn from our mistakes and make sure you are in a spot with a lot of padding before the synth bass drops in. It’s a doozy and dangerously close to brown-noting you out of your favorite pair of jorts.

The World Is A Beautiful Place & I Am No Longer Afraid to Die ‘Kersed (Ceremony Cover)’

We’ll have to make this brief since the band name has taken up nearly half of our allotted word count, but holy fucking shit, TWIABP’s cover of Ceremony’s ‘Kersed’ is a thing of beauty. While a hardcore bent has never not been inferred within even the softest of TWIABP’s sonic output, it really is something to hear it laid out so blatantly and with such vigor. The old adage is true, even sad boys know how to open up that pit.

Los Campesinos! ‘kms’

It’s been three years shy of a decade since indie-pop legends Los Campesinos! released a record, and they are set to end that silent streak in just a few weeks with a new album, ‘All Hell.’ The final lead single ‘kms’ features keyboardist Kim Paisey taking the majority of the lead vocal duties, adding a soft touch to the suburban-emo malaise. It’s the kind of track that will inspire multiple entries in the diary you refuse to admit you have.

Mechanical Canine ‘Mechanical Canine Saves Emo’

You’re right to look at this song title with suspicion, but the Philly based DIY punks known as Mechanical Canine might actually do it. The lead single from their forthcoming third LP, ‘To My Chagrin,’ is a total fucking blast. It’s an earworm track that demands repeat listens – especially if you want to drown in that beautiful outro on the bandcamp version. Thanks for being the emo saviors that no one asked for but totally needed, Mechanical Canine.

We know six songs isn’t enough to fill the void, so we’ve compiled these and probably too many more into a massive and disorienting playlist. Click here to like, follow, and never be left alone with your thoughts again.

I Didn’t Get The Sex Talk But I Was Left Unsupervised At Spencer’s Gifts

Growing up as a millennial was tough. The internet came along and changed the world, and our parents were too self-absorbed and lead-poisoned to ever show any real interest in our development. My dad never sat me down to tell me about the birds and the bees, but he would drop me off at the mall by myself when I was 11 so he could go drink at Walter’s Pub on the weekends. My sex education came from the novelty items lining the shelves at Spencer’s, and it’s served me well.

One thing I kept hearing about during my teenage years was “safe sex.” Gotta be safe. Gotta use protection. I remembered Spencer’s had condoms. But I have no idea what flavors are good. How do you choose a flavor? I was never brave enough to ask the cute goth girl working the cash register for a sample. Do you ask your partner beforehand what flavor they want? And how do you find a size? I’d only see comically small and comically large, and unfortunately I was with endowed with a unit that is comically average. This crippling condom anxiety prevented me from having sexual relations well into my 30s. Man, I wish they covered that in school.

Also, apparently you graduate from underwear? I’ve had a few girlfriends and I keep asking them when they will be wearing that candy underwear. They tell me that it’s a joke, a gag, that if they actually wore that they would get a terrible infection. But Spencer’s would never sell something that isn’t safe. Their fart detector was one of the best gadgets I ever purchased. I’ve been wearing leather underwear from Spencer’s for years, and yeah, it caused a few rashes at first, but once my skin callused over I was in good shape. Maybe I should buy one of those rad leather harnesses. That’ll for sure attract the ladies.

Spencer’s also had a lot of sex games which I’ll often bring on first dates. The game “Lick, Suck, or Swallow” acts as a subtle icebreaker and gives me a good idea of what sort of lover my date might be. Or I suggest we play Twister. Nothing sets the mood more than a game of Twister. But nothing beats the sex dice. That way, if I don’t know what I’m doing, it’s all on the dice. I’ll look like an idiot without the sex dice.

Without Spencer’s I wouldn’t be the man I am today. I was lucky enough to memorize at least 15 pages from the book about sex positions and someday I plan on trying each one of those. To date, I’ve tried two, I just need to find the right woman who also had negligent parents.

“Emergency” Cigarette Pack Empty for Fifth Time This Week

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.

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