[  Mood: Angry ]
[ Currently: Annoyed with malignant troll people ]
I have been watching the laaaaaate-night reruns of Lucy, Daughter of the Devil on Cartoon Network [as]. This show slays me. So I had to change my teeny-tiny pic as a sign of my adoration:

But I’ve liked all my avatar choices, so I wanted to make a little rogue’s gallery…

There. That was a nice diversion.

[  Mood: Distorted ]
There’s this song that’s getting radio play, and I guess the album comes out next week… I was moved enough to link to it in a recent post, but I guess it’s still in my head.

“Handlebars” opens whimsically, the singer listing things he’s good at and things he’s done. Claims like “I can take apart the remote control And I can almost put it back together” reminding me of myself as a child, when I could never seem to get my watch to work the same — okay, at all — once I’d poked around in its guts.

The second verse seems to lay out the things he has the potential to achieve, if only he had the resources, or education, or just access.

It’s the last verse, though, that rips the tail off my kite. As he lists the things of which he may be capable, the feats degenerate from the humanitarian to the genocidal, and I realize this is an indictment of war.

Every time I’ve made it to the end of this song, I have tears of rage burning my throat.

This. Is. A. Good. Song.