Review: Modern Baseball “Holy Ghost”

Posted on by Bobby Korec

Today let’s take a trip all the way back to 2016 to take a look at “Holy Ghost” from Philadelphia-based emo band Modern Baseball.

To prepare myself to write this article I did the only thing I could think of, which was to read other reviews of this Modern Baseball album to see if I can just copy and paste what they wrote and call it a day. While the other reviewers all did a bang-up job, none of their articles were plagiarize-worthy.

So I took matters into my own hands and decided to review this album myself. But to make things a little more interesting, I opted to review the version of the album when played backward on my record player.

Again, this review is based on “Holy Ghost” in reverse, so if you want one of those normal reviews where they listen to it forwards then I suggest you go to Pitchfork or maybe even just listen to the album yourself. That’s probably easier than reading.

Anyway, everyone knows that when you play a record in reverse the first thing you look for is the subliminal messages baked into the recording. Bands love to hide little secret messages that are either demonic-based or reveal some fairly personal information.

Take the Beatles, for example. Some say that if you play every single one of their songs in reverse the band reveals that Paul McCartney is dead. And here I was thinking it was John, George, and Ringo who weren’t alive anymore.

Slayer on the other hand has been known to back mask different kinds of subliminal messages in their songs. They go the more evil route though. Turns out, adding satanic imagery to music when played backward pairs well with satanic imagery heard forwards. You got to love their consistency.

That brings us back to the messages in this Modern Baseball album. In the song “Note to Self,” I clearly hear the line, “like a good neighbor, State Farm is there.” Then, in the song “Breathing in Stereo,” you can kind of hear the singer say, “I’m cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.”

Long story short. This album has as many catchy hooks and jingles backward as I imagine it does forwards. Haven’t yet played it the regular way just yet. Anyway, stay tuned for the forward review of this album one day.

Score: 5 out of 5 product placements.

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Band Honorably Goes Down With Flooding Rehearsal Space

Posted on by Joe Rumrill

BRATTLEBORO, VT — Brave members of the late synth-punk band Ejector Seats experienced a flood from a burst sewage pipe in their rehearsal space, during which they decided to play on, sources close to the group confirmed.

“You could tell from the look in their eyes that they knew it was the honorable thing to do,” said a tearful Kerri Smythe, partner of lead keyboardist, who was invited to watch the band practice that day. “They paused just a moment to salute one another and admitted what an honor it was to serve in the Seats these past few years, and then continued their set as if murky water wasn’t rising up to their belly buttons. As for me, I got the hell out of there!”

Though many recalled the calamity with sentimentality and awe, others were merely confused why anyone would intentionally meet their demise in such a way.

“The pipe was in plain view, and quite frankly, not that difficult for any idiot to re-attach temporarily until a professional got there,” said local plumber Lonny Vermucci Jr. “Going down with your crew is a romantic idea if you’re on a battleship or something, but going down with your keytar? In a basement full of shit water? That confuses me.”

Noted Navy oceanographer Bob Ballard had a more sympathetic viewpoint and offered his plans for a full-on investigation of the wreckage.

“Between you, me, and the barrier reef, I’ve been looking for an excuse to rev up the ol’ Argo, which has been collecting dust in my garage since exhuming the Titanic,” said an excited Ballard. “Through sonar, I should be able to pinpoint all the vintage synthesizers down there, and learn what made these guys tick.”

“Oh, and I call dibs on a Microkorg, if we find one,” Ballard added. “I need that built-in vocoder for my upcoming ambient album ‘Sounds From Way, Way Down.’ I still regret not swiping anything from the damn Titanic.”

At press time, recorded audio from a distress call made by one band member in secret revealed that the group ended up drowning in only three feet of water.

If I Don’t Wear My “Fuck Joe Biden” Shirt to This Child’s Birthday Party, How Will All the Other Parents Know I’m an Alpha?

Posted on by Steve Esparra

It’s hard work being one of the only true Alpha Males left in this world. A major part of being an Alpha is constantly letting everyone know that you’re an Alpha. The last thing an Alpha like me has time for is explaining my superiority to a bunch of strangers one by one. That’s why, as an Alpha Male, I have to wear my “FUCK JOE BIDEN” shirt to my niece’s 4th birthday party today, as an alpha.

Some of you may think that because it’s a party full of children I should wear my censored, secret-code “Let’s Go Brandon” shirt. Well isn’t that some soy-boy, mocha chocolate bullshit? Someone has to teach these kids that life doesn’t care about your fragile little feelings. You’re going to run into people in this world who don’t sugar-coat anything.

If one person leaves that party without knowing I’m an alpha lone wolf who doesn’t give a fuck about their feelings I will cry myself to sleep tonight, so “Fuck Joe Biden” shirt it is!

Don’t like it? TOO BAD PUSSY! The “Let’s Go Brandon” shirt is reserved for weddings, funerals, and job interviews if my Beta, bitch-boy recruiter ever sets any up for me.

And I am just HOPING that one of the parents attempting to raise obedient little worker bees says something to me about it. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than teaching some cuck a lesson in front of his son, to show him what a REAL man looks like. I bet he even teaches his kid not to hit, so he probably won’t even attempt a swing at the pinata. Which should be Joe Biden, by the way.

By the end of this party, if I can convert even one of these kids from a cute, innocent, naive little sheep into a blood-hungry, take-no-prisoners lion, isn’t that worth it? I even brought a printout of Dr. Fauci for the kids to play pin the tail on the JACKASS with. Knowing my bleeding heart liberal sister, she probably won’t even let me put it up.

Save the liberal, crocodile tears for someone who gives a shit. My right to wear what I want does not end where your kids’ feelings begin. And if anyone has a problem with it, I will just sic my son Donald on them.

We Ranked These Nightmare Dream Creatures Coming Through the Walls Because Our Acid Hookup Is an Asshole

Posted on by Nathan Kamal

Expanding your consciousness has been the dream of humanity from time immemorial. From the first days of eating weird mushrooms and hoping that something other than death happened to that episode of Mad Men when John Slattery and his wife do LSD, we have always found ourselves sitting down with horrific monsters and asking ourselves: how do they stack up?

We ranked these nightmare dream creatures coming through the walls in every direction, invading our consciousness with five-dimensional geometry that cannot be described by any sane mind, and singing songs of pure madness, because Anthony sold me some bad shit. Let’s run them down, in ascending order of terror!

#5: The giant cockroach that I can sense was once us from a different universe, but managed to claw his way into this one and force me to think of how I never truly understood by anyone else! Just so-so. We have had worse anxiety attacks from cold brew.

#4: Machine elves, but with knives where their eyes should be! A step up, but wasn’t Anthony the one that loaned us that copy of The Invisible Landscape by Terence McKenna in the first place? The knives aren’t great, especially when they start talking about how computers are nothing but silicon organs that will soon have mouths and a need to feed, but there’s a little bit too much logic for it to be truly terrifying.

Joke: #3: An alleyway that goes on forever, but somehow is also a beast that knows everything you have ever done wrong! Now we’re getting somewhere. This particular nightmare dream has a lot of what we look for in a psyche-destroying vision that will haunt us in stray thoughts for the rest of our lives.

Fuck, Anthony. Fuck. Fuck.

#2: A word that opens our third eyes, but only to the dark region of the netherworld in which a being known only as the Mother waits to draw us in, and tells us there is no salvation, no future other than reunion with the Mother and her infinite spines. Yeah, this is the good stuff. We are definitely destroying a whole lot of vital brain cells right now.

#1: Anthony! Okay, this one was a real dark horse, but it turns out that Anthony dropping by to apologize for the shit he gave us is the most terrifying thing that we could ever experience. Imagine realizing you’ve achieved complete ego death because of a dude who wears Teva sandals all the time.

Whooooooooaaaaa.

Family Dog Returns Rejuvenated From Farm Upstate

Posted on by Sam Eardley

NEW YORK — Beloved labrador retriever Sergeant Slobbermouth returned home “rejuvenated and grounded” six months after parents Jill and Malcolm Chesterton informed their children that he had gone to live on a farm upstate, baffled sources confirmed.

“It’s so great to have the old pooch back home, especially for our twelve-year-old Billy. He took it real hard when we told him that Slobby had gone to live on a farm,” said the pup’s owner and mother of three. “I assumed he’d be happy for the dog—getting to run around in fields and play with all the farm animals, you know? But instead Billy became very withdrawn, started dressing in all black and listening non-stop to some ghoulish singer called Nick Caves. Jeez Louise, it’s not like we’d told him the dog was dead!”

Barb Kingsnorth, the owner of upstate New York farm Verdant Pastures, was keen to clear up any confusion about the services they provide.

“Yes, we are a real farm, and yes, we will return your dog to you alive after their stay with us,” said Kingsnorth. “We’re aware that ‘living on a farm upstate’ can be a euphemism for deceased pets, but we are an actual farm that caters to not-dead city-dwelling dogs. Sergeant Slobbermouth, or Bodhi as he’d now like to be called, really benefited from his time at our farm. He switched to a Paleolithic diet, deleted his popular Instagram account, and didn’t kick the bucket at all. He returned home blissed, blessed, and—we can’t stress this enough—not in a coffin.”

Canine sociologist Gabrielle Ambrose questioned the benefits of these boutique dog farms that all just so happened to be upstate.

“The short-term effects are twofold. Firstly, a swathe of traumatic misunderstandings between parents and kids who have very different grasps on pop-cultural tropes,” explained Ambrose. “And secondly, a widening gulf between dogs that can and can’t afford to access these services. It would be reductive of me to call retrievers like Bodhi ‘spoiled’ or ‘insufferable’ or ‘the absolute fucking worst,’ but it seems reasonable to suggest that they should regularly be checking their labrador privilege.”

In related news, another New York couple informed their kids that their dog was not in fact dead, but in witness protection.

Millennial Celebrates Labor Day by Only Having to Work 3 Out of Her 5 Jobs

Posted on by Chris Bowen

BROOKLYN, N.Y. — 29-year-old Leslie Andrews was overcome with joy knowing she was able to half-celebrate Labor Day by only having to work 3 out of her 5 jobs that day, multiple sources confirmed.

“I was super pumped when I found out I’d catch a break on Labor Day for once,” said Andrews while attempting to cover the bags under her eyes. “Mostly, I was really excited to sleep in until 4:30 a.m. for a change. Larry at Go Bananas, the smoothie shop I work at, broke the incredible news to me after my 47th consecutive day of work. I may even have time to squeeze in a real breakfast other than my usual coffee and cigarette in the morning.”

Lindsay Welch, friend and roommate of Andrews, was happy for her, yet also concerned.

“Leslie and I pay $3,000 a month for our studio apartment, and we’re forced to work 12 jobs between us to be able to afford it,” Welch said while quickly downing her third 5-Hour Energy shot of the day. “I’m super happy for Leslie and all. She seems to be really glad to have some free time, but what if this cuts into her portion of rent this month? We’d be screwed. In fact, I begged and pleaded with my boss at the greenhouse to let me work on Labor Day just in case we weren’t able to make rent this month as a result. Luckily, she gave in. What a saint.”

Economist and labor rights activist Gerard Wilson explained how the plight of the Millennial worker has changed dramatically since the days of old.

“You see, back in the day, the average 29-year-old could support a family of 5 on a part-time smoothie stand worker’s salary. Unfortunately for Millennials like Leslie, that isn’t the case anymore,” Wilson stated. “To make the equivalent of that in this day and age, you’d need about 7 or 8 smoothie stand salaries to even come close to supporting a family of 5. And until they make it illegal to work a certain number of jobs, Millennials are just going to have to keep collecting jobs and side gigs like their Pokeball cards or whatever they’re called.”

At press time, Andrews was forced to cover someone else’s shift at the mall sunglasses depot last minute but was able to at least enjoy the Labor Day holiday in short 1-hour increments between jobs.

We Wrote the Great American Novel, but We Did It by Holding the Pen Between Our Buttcheeks and Crabwalking Over Graph Paper So No Publisher Will Touch It

Posted on by James Knapp

What the hell happened to literature in this country? When Kerouac wrote “On the Road” in one three-week-long amphetamine binge, it was considered the seminal novel of his generation. Yet when we did the same thing but with our ass and some grid paper, suddenly we’re a literary pariah. Our greatness must be acknowledged!

Not to be too boastful but we did a real scoot-job on this book. The novel is both eloquent and raw, and it by far surpasses any of what qualifies as high art these days. Also, we wrote it in a style we called “crabscript” and as far as we can tell that’s the only reason why no one is willing to take a chance on our daring and brash new work.

We know our style may be unconventional but, hell, so was Salinger’s. Now we both have written definitive works on the angst and alienation that comes with living in a superficial society. But just because we did it with a smelly ballpoint and a roll of contractor’s paper spread out in the parking lot, apparently we’re no longer welcome near the library.

In our opinion, publishers have been unfairly critical of our clenchmanship, some going so far as to describe our writing style as “disturbingly soupy.” How dare they try to tell us how the creative process of a genius should look!

Going forward, we suppose there’s nothing left to do but keep on fighting to put our grand opus out into the world and hope all those literary fat cats eventually come to understand the brilliance our buttcheeks can bring forth.

New Netflix “Instant Dream Home” Show Sets Unrealistic Expectations That Contractors Will Show Up on Time

Posted on by Matt McInerney

ATLANTA – Viewers of the new Netflix show “Instant Dream Home” are complaining en masse about the show creating unrealistic expectations that contractors will ever show up on time, not-so-patiently-waiting sources confirmed.

“A total home makeover in 12 hours? God, I’d be happy if I could get a contractor just to give me an estimate the same month they said they would,” said Florence Mason, a homeowner in the middle of a bathroom renovation. “My first contractor demoed my entire bathroom, and then they just disappeared. I’ve been looking for someone to come finish the job for months. But super cool how Netflix will just build a bathroom on a soundstage and then truck it in the same day. Must be nice not peeing in a bucket and showering in the kitchen sink.”

Joey Norris, a long-time contractor, has been struggling to find help.

“Let me tell you, you want to find a crew to finish a job? Impossible. The kids these days don’t care for work—almost as much as I don’t like paying. But yeah, I heard about this show. The whole house in 12 hours? Geez,” said Norris. “It just doesn’t make sense to me. I mean, just like the basic logistics. So you’re gonna wanna let spackle dry for about 1-2 hours. Then you’re gonna want to sand. And if you want it to be nice, you’re gonna want to do a second coat. And then you’d be wise to wait about 24 hours before you paint the first coat. And don’t get me started on grout.”

Jamie Vaughn, a producer on the show, explained the process behind the quick renovations.

“How do we do it all in 12 hours? Ah, look at you, that’s so cute. You think it’s all real,” said Vaughn. “I mean, we do some work on their house. We mostly just paint the front and maybe swap out a door. But I’d say the majority of what we do is filming people crying while yelling ‘this is gorgeous’ in front of a green screen, and then we drop in some pictures from Pinterest afterward.”

At press time, Netflix was busy ramping up marketing efforts for their new show, “15 Minute DMV.”

Kid Rock, Ted Nugent, Marilyn Manson, and Gene Simmons Release Album as Newly Formed Supervillain Group

Posted on by Patrick Coyne

LOS ANGELES – Nefarious rockstars Kid Rock, Ted Nugent, Marilyn Manson, and Gene Simmons combined forces to become the world’s preeminent supervillain group, suspicious sources confirmed.

“As the most prolific sellout in rock history, I’ve spent the past 50 years slapping the KISS brand on everything from coffins and air guitar strings to at-home pregnancy tests and LSAT prep courses. But having wrung that money sponge dry, it was time to start a new band to further my evil empire,” explained Simmons. “So I gathered the most repugnant rogues I could find–Rock, Nugent, and Manson– to form the music world’s first ever supervillain group. We’ve spent the past four months recording songs at a fortified stronghold inside a volcano, sponsored by the Los Angeles Police Union, and we’re finally ready to unleash terror upon our fans.”

Former music lover Katharine Ingram scored tickets to one of the new band’s early shows, a move she later regretted.

“Look, I know they all have a history of shitty and sometimes literally criminal behavior, but I still was excited to see them play. Though I expected way more considering I paid $400 for a nosebleed seat,” said Ingram. “Like, holy shit, what a cacophonous mess. How did they not realize a band with four lead singers and no drummer was a terrible idea? Then midway through the show, they all pulled out some binoculars so they could ‘scope out the college chicks’ in the crowd. I had to personally usher several underage teen girls out of the venue as Nugent and Manson chased us down.”

Genteel alt-rocker Michael Stipe has chosen to fight back, citing an existential threat to pop culture and the world at large as his main motivators.

“We mustn’t allow rock and roll to evolve into a tool for evil,” explained Stipe from his technologically sophisticated hoverchair. “This is why I am starting Professor Stipe’s School for Benevolent Rock Stars to help teach the new generation of musicians how not to be abusive and mean-spirited dicks. School faculty will include Dave Grohl, ‘Weird’ Al Yankovic, and Soccer Mommy. Plus, we’re offering a jiu-jitsu elective taught by Maynard James Keenan.”

Most recently, Simmons appeared on Newsmax and threatened world leaders with a 50-city international tour unless his demands are met.

$8 Double IPA Creates Expensive Artisan Piss

Posted on by Colleen Nerney

CHICAGO — Local beer connoisseur Evan Ramirez recently made the startling discovery that his new favorite craft beer transmutes directly to expensive, fancy piss, sources who are currently drunk confirm.

“There I was, finishing off my second pint of the ‘Not Your Pawpaw’s Dirt Juice’ Double IPA when I realized that I was essentially just using my own body to make overpriced, artisan pee,” Ramirez said, visibly shifting on his barstool. “I’ve dropped $46 on beer alone today, and I’m not even sure what I’m getting out of this. I’m not really staying hydrated, because I have to piss every half hour on the dot, and I’m super bloated from all the hops and shit. And let me tell you, it does not taste good in the slightest. If this wasn’t 11% alcohol, it would truly have no benefits other than making every trip to the bathroom feel like a luxury expense.”

Craft brewer Jake Hornsby didn’t take kindly to Ramirez’s remarks about the product of his life’s work.

“He clearly does not understand the love, labor, and high-end ingredients that go into the ‘Dirt Juice,’” Hornsby said while pretending to towel-dry a snifter glass for several minutes. “The fermenting process alone takes months, which is probably why it has such a bold flavor that is off-putting to those who don’t appreciate higher-end, borderline-undrinkable brews. And I’m honestly a little insulted that he thinks the urine that results from my beer is a waste. We both know that there’s an untapped market there, and if he wasn’t such a pansy, he’d be bottling that stuff up and selling it to hipsters all over the city.”

Urologist Ben Proctor weighed in on Hornsby’s suggestion to capitalize on the secondary waste product of the DIPA.

“Humans have been drinking their own pee for centuries,” Proctor said, smiling a little too much while saying it. “Not only are there numerous health benefits, but in this case, one actually recoups the cost of spending $25 on a four-pack by selling the infused piss on the naturopath market. One could easily make back their losses and turn a tidy profit if you find the right crowd. The exact overlap between beer snobs and anti-vaxxers should prove to be the right niche for this.”

At press time, Ramirez was reportedly seen buying a 30-rack of Natty Light from the bodega instead.

 

We teamed up with the fine people at Goose Island to bring you a vegan burger so good it will make you hate all other food. Grab it through the month of September at the Goose Island Clybourn Brewhouse. All proceeds to to Planned Parenthood.