The aural death of John Mayer and DMB...don't want quoted, don't talk...monster to tackle

Welcome again.

I'm a college student, for those of you unaware of my subversive activities. I frequent such areas on campus as a bookstore, a food court and convenient store.

And every goddamn time, it seems, the cliche of college is playing over the blasted Muzak in those places.

John Mayer and the Dave Matthews Band.

Please, give me an icepick to slam violently through my eardrums so I don't have to listen to this crap anymore.

Cliches abound in college. It will never fail that frat boys will have navy blue shirts with "College" written across them, aping John Belushi in "Animal House."

It is guaranteed that there will be one white guy that lost his caucasian identity and became the trendy, cracker rastafarian doppelganger of Bob Marley.

"Old School" is regarded as a classic of modern American cinema...

It never changes. It truly doesn't. I've had the (unfortunate?) opportunity to be a college student in two eras - the late 1990's, when Dave Matthews and his motley troupe of seasonings were really hitting primetime - and the 2010's, when Dave Matthews and his motley troupe of seasonings are STILL being used as some sort of swan song for college youth.

The lamb-like college youth, that is. The ones that think "Crash" makes them enlightened and earthy while they throw on Abercrumbie and Fitch made in some third-world sweatshop.

You know, the places where folks still shit in their rice paddies to fertilize them?

I'm tired of the Dave Matthews Band being the house performers for college stereo systems throughout the United States. If you want to be earthy, toss on the Dead's "Truckin'" and don't bathe for eight days.

That's earthy...and fucking disgusting. But that is an aside.

John Mayer, meanwhile, was just a tiny tot when Dave Matthews was paving the way for warbling voiced, pro-hemp charlatans. Like most kids, he probably figured the easiest way into that sorority girls vaporlocked panties was acoustic whining and quoting Will Ferrell from his SNL days.

Mayer has done well, it must be said. He convoluted DMB's style, sprinkled in some "wonderland" bullshit and before you know it?

BANG! Jessica Simpson.

BANG! Cameron Diaz.

BANG! Jennifer Aniston.

'Nuff said. The man found the perfect elixir of crotch-dampening lyrics, guitar work that couldn't even hold Jack Black's jock - yes, Mayer is that bad - and pointless tattoos for street cred. He has elevated himself past the now-vanilla Matthews.

But still sounds exactly like him. Which means he sounds like absolute shit.

Yet college kiddos love 'em. Sigh.

One of my other subversive activities is being the news editor of the student newspaper at the prestigious university I attend. It makes for very interesting conversations and stories...

It also makes for pissing folks off, too - one of the perks I really enjoy.

I did a story last week, where I quoted a media representative from a company owned by a prominent sports figure. Guy was a PR douche, in other words.

Asked a few questions of him regarding the story, he answered cordially, end of discussion.

Bridge just built.

So, forward to running the story. I used quotes from the email correspondence with PR douche. I end up the next day with PR douche emailing me, "horrified" that his comments were printed.

He wailed that I should have asked permission to use his quotes and that I "may have thought I was juicing up my story, but all that I really did was burn a bridge."

Oh, and the threat that word gets around about such - gasp -devious things that I do.

Shut....the.....fuck....up.

PR douche claimed he had been in journalism for 50 years. Yeah? Well, if that is the case then you know, dumb bastard, that if you don't tell me "don't quote me on that" or "it's off the record" that -GUESS WHAT? - I can use it.

Much less to say, he did none of those things. So I used his comments that were not favorably towards the sports figure he represents. The situation reeks of PR douche getting his ass ripped by said sports figure, getting pissed off and wanting to take it out on me.

Well I have news for you, sir.

I don't burn bridges. I nuke them with extreme prejudice.

And I will leave the pieces for YOU to rebuild, not I...especially when you are fucking wrong.

I'll close with a heartfelt thanks to those who expressed their support of my book idea about the effects of the detention camps in Guantanamo Bay, both on former guards and detainees.

I worked there for two years, so it gives me an inside view and perspective others lack. I tossed the idea out there and received more feedback on it than any other post I'd placed on Facebook...

Ever.

So, I will tackle the monster. A monster it is, and I may as well sign off on five years of my life in writing it.

Will it be worth it? Financially? Mentally?

Only time will tell, but one thing is for certain...the stories need to be told.

And the story is not about me.


-Spragoo