The Bullhorn of SILVER BROWN

Now Playing: Zip. Zilch. Nada. (The Late Show)

This would ordinarily be the date I start re-posting the chapter(s) from SILVER BROWN I tweeted two months previously on Facebook, at a rate of one page a day. But I’ve decided not to do that this time around. For a couple of reasons. The first reason is I think a major societal backlash against Facebook is just around the corner. Social media in general, but especially Facebook. My Spidey-sense is tingling, and it’s telling me conditions are ripe for the Old Zuckerverse to be reduced to something akin to the hair metal of mass communication within a few years.

For all the young folks in the audience who thought that last sentence was written in Martian, a brief history lesson. In ancient times, when a completely different racist old coot with a background in show business was leader of the free world (a coot who was at least somewhat respectable on account of being a World War II veteran, unlike the soon-to-be-ex-guy), hair metal was all the rage. It was a time when being in a band gave a dude a legitimate excuse to wear spandex and lipstick. Sweet memories. Alas, that era came to an end when the aforementioned old coot (gracefully) left office, and a new decade dawned. In the rays of that new sun, hair metal evaporated in a gust of cultural irrelevance. It was seen as a hackneyed relic of the decade that was, so it was tossed aside and forgotten like a used condom. Today, millions of children will likely live their entire lives having never learned there was ever a band called Quiet Riot… 

There are evidently limits to how much “noize” the public is willing to feel.

We now see a new sun about to rise, reminiscent of the one that rose all those many years ago. When I think of cultural phenomena of the last decade that could end up going the way of hair metal in the new decade, Facebook almost always tops the list. I foresee it will become another tobacco industry. There used to be a time (long before I was born) when smoking cigarettes was considered sexy. They were actually advertised as being good for your health. Now, just about every national government slaps some kind of warning label on cigarette packages, actively discouraging their citizenry from taking up the habit.

Another reason why I’ve decided to forgo posting another chapter on Facebook is because I think Twitter is overall a better medium for this sort of thing. SILVER BROWN is still very much so a work in progress. Posting excerpts of my writings on social media is one of the means I employ to drink the vibes of my audience. Not everything I write is going to be brilliant. But if I tweet something that sucks ass today, I can at least rest assured the world will forget about it tomorrow, if not later on today (unless I run for political office, and like hell I’d ever do that). Facebook’s modus operandi is very different. In some ways, the complete opposite. They love to regurgitate posts from the distant past, your actual desire to revisit them be damned. If the Zuckerverse is privy to something I posted that sucks ass, it will suck ass for many years to come.

Henceforth, my Facebook page will be little more than a token presence, until the inevitable arrival of the Nevermind that kills off the whole platform. It’ll have my blog posts on it, but not much else. More chapters are due to be unveiled in the new year, but those chapters shall only be tweeted.

I did toy with the idea of establishing more of a presence on Instagram, but decided against it. The Gram has the social dynamic of a neverending virtual high school prom, methinks. Literature of any sort is seemingly not something that would interest that particular crowd. They like shiny things. The handful of authors’ Instagram feeds I have seen feature the same old barrage of selfies, vacation pictures and foodporn that everybody and their grandma posts. What in the Sam Hill is the point of that? Do you really want to see a hundred pictures of my face?


The Soundtrack of SILVER BROWN

The Piper at the Gates of Love

I was going to go with a heavy metal musical theme for Valentine’s Day, like I did for Christmas. Alas, all attempts on my part to unearth a fist-pumpingly kickass metal cover of anything that could be considered a love song in any conventional sense have thus far proven fruitless. Unless Queensrÿche is your idea of kickass. They were in their own way; they had that metal-tinged Pink Floyd vibe going on. But a level of kickassitude more in the ballpark of Rammstein is closer to what I had in mind. No one’s ever thought to give one of Céline Dion’s signature numbers the Neue Deutsche Härte treatment, from the looks of it. So while we’re waiting for German to become the new language of love (“Wie liebe ich dich? Lass mich die Wege zählen…”), here’s a guy playing a bagpipe made out of a (hopefully used) condom.


The Soundtrack of SILVER BROWN

Yuletide Standards (Re)done All Metal AF

Like 99.999999999999999314159% of the human race, I can’t stand Christmas music. But a spoonful of metal helps the reindeer shit go down, in the most delightful way. Here’s a more interesting take on a certain Mariah Carey number:

A guy in a Santa costume rocking out? Yes, please…

They should play that shit in the malls, but of course they won’t. This next vid is not a holiday standard per se, but it does feature St. Nick’s Norwegian cousin wandering the streets of New York…

Here’s a couple of more traditional numbers given the symphonic power metal treatment…

…and here’s a tune that should be mandatory at every Christmas party, because Lemmy was a god who walked among men.

Finally, I leave you with a fairly straight cover of one of the more overtly religious Christmas standards performed by Rob Halford. Yes, that Rob Halford. The same Rob Halford who uptight reactionary parents used to accuse of being the siren of Satan way back in the day when all that cockamamie horseshit about backmasking was actually taken seriously (at one point there was even a whole legal case about it, which the reactionary parents thankfully lost). I don’t think it’s even scientifically possible for him to do anything that isn’t metal as fuck.