Homicidal Impulse
Feeling the Impulse- My fury and indignity have been such a part of me for so long, I can hardly remember when I was free of them. Probably 7th grade. I go to sleep with them every night. A long time ago, I had sexual fantasies at night. Anymore, when I lie in bed at night, I picture in big red letters against the wall 'Kill', or 'There is, an Answer.' I have fantasies, much different than the ones I had as a kid- these became the basis of the ultimate and final version of the song. Most involve just going berserk. One involves incinerating an entire metropolis, as in the city fires of Ancient Rome, that just pulverized whole sections of the city, as Nero did. One I did include, a recurring one, involves being a rogue general, like Kurtz in Heart of Darkness, and leading a bloodthirsty army into a city, and unleashing them (as Sulla did to Athens), and standing in the midst of the chaos and carnage, as I reap my revenge via my minions. Another involves purchasing a home, and turning the basement into a non-consensual hotel for about 24 females, where the stays are indefinite, partitioning the floor into the appropriate number of very small rooms. Well, I guess it sounds more like a prison, as each room would be pure concrete, and each resident would be nude. There would be a microphone in each, all feeding to my bedroom upstairs, and I would fall asleep every night to the screams, hence the idea for the song 'Lullaby of Screams.' Perhaps I'll write that one day, but it seems superfluous at this point. I doubt I could find a contractor to do this work though. I could tell him I am creating a zoo in my basement? I have so many more. Having fantasies is healthy though, I think. Thinking them, even writing of them, is, oh what is the psychological term- it is either channeling or projection. It is venting, and blows off steam, along the lines of a kid who plays violent video games, and kills in the game, so he doesn't have to in real life.

This all traces back to my issues with society in general, and women in particular, as well, as of late, to my economic situation. I actually was going to name the group Homicidal Impulse, but found it too binding and restricting.

I've never gone to a psychiatrist of my own volition, nor would I ever. I have been ordered to visit one on 4 separate occasions though, dating back to high school, all having to do either with females or my mania. I love Ma Soprano's line on this, “ Psychiatry? That's a racket for the Jews.” Not quite sure about that, but it is a racket. The most recent one outright lied about me, in hopes of getting court-ordered additional business. I guess the ends justify any means, even if it involves treachery, to some people. His name is Patrick Nave, and he practices his chicanery in Central Florida.
He actually threatened me in his office- a customer, a client ! Threatened me, after I paid his fee ! The unprincipled bastard.

I ultimately ended up with 3 versions of this song. The original had to do with caring less about macro societal issues than micro ones, that drive me. When I thought I had lost that one, I re-wrote it based on my various court-ordered psychiatrist visits, which I thought would be interesting. Ultimately, it focused on the descent from typical sex-crazed adolescent to psychopath, as depicted in fantasy theme and focus.

I Just Wanna Kill Someone- I think this was inspired by a scene from one of my favorite comedies, Eurotrip. The boys were in a bus with some soccer hooligans, and one of them was wearing a great shirt. It just said, 'Kill Something.' How beautifully psychotic in its simplicity. How random and low expectational, yet how focused. He knows what he wants to do, and that's all he wants to do. He's not interested in anything else.

On a Sunny Afternoon- The perversion of a romantic stroll in the park, on a day of typical leisure and fun. Initially, this was about an assault on a couple and their PDA in a park. Had to re-write it, when I found myself guilty of that as well- well, not a park, exactly, but a walking trail in Germany along the Mosel. Thus, I made it an ode to Ted Bundy and Lake Sammamish. One of these days, I must visit Lake Sammamish. Ted Bundy was a big fan of parks, that one in particular. I couldn't quite triangulate his sorority house in Tally, but I drove down sorority row, so I can check that box. Christians have their Via Delorosa in Jerusalem- I walked that, not bad- and I have mine.

Run for your Life- Rather simplistic, but I am proud of the climax though. The theme- neglect, at your won risk, at your own peril. Motley Crue had a song with this title. Early, demo, unreleased, worth listening to.

Crying in the Dark- Obviously out of place here, but that is the purpose of balance. Based on the worst day of my life, up to that point. I was almost 14, early in 8th grade. What I actually did, doesn't matter. The consequence was, for one full day, the entire school turned against me, or so it seemed. You really find out who your true friends are, when you become a pariah. How do you respond, when suddenly everyone hates you; people you have never even met, approach you and give you crap? I came home, and hid under my covers for a couple of hours, but I might as well have hid in the closet. Sometimes, you just need to hide from the world.

Fear the Mullet- I've wanted to write a song devoted to mullets ever since I heard 'Cut the Mullet' by Wesley Willis. You might not even believe that they exist anymore, until you attend a metal concert. A friend referred me to a mullet website, with all different variety of mullets. I busted the gut for a good half hour skimming through that site. I have called dreadlocks the black man's mullet, but that is an entirely different subject to broach.

Blood on the World's Hands- There is actually a Maiden song with this title, and its not bad, but I don't recall for the life of me what's its about. For me, this is about being stuck in neutral, idling, and not able to get ahead, despite your best efforts. It can lead you to hate the whole world. The sentiment here is- I will not endure this indignity, indefinitely.

Dead at 21- This was a show in the late 90's, though I never saw it, and thus can't exactly claim to be a fan. I just took the title. Its more about being in your early 20s, and for me, seeing graduation on the horizon, and being in that Van Wilder state of mind, where you really don't want to graduate. Party's over; let the drudgery commence. It need not be like that though, but I do recall a line from some made-for-TV movie starring Keri Russell, who's playing a babysitter (The Babysitter ?), and trying to have an affair with the widower who she was employed by. She tells a friend, “ I feel like an adult when I'm with him.” The friend responds, “ why are you in such a hurry? Adults are old and boring.” No one respects a suspended adolescent, but this was my mindset and concern at the a time.

I'll Sleep in Paris- I went off on an acoustic bent for a brief while, and this was part of the result of that.
I have no problem with Paris Hilton. I have no problem with sluts. They make the world go round. There was a Kiss song off of a very underrated album, Unmasked, called What Makes the World Go Round. Was this what Paul was talking about? Knowing that band, probably, but who knows? The point is, there is a definite and massive difference between a slut and a whore. I will be getting to that eventually.

Fuck 'Em All- Well, Metallica did 'Kill 'Em All', though it was never a song, so I guess this was the next best thing. Brief, angry, I hate the world- not reinventing the wheel, but sometimes simplicity works out best.

American Massacre- Nothing I do seems to make any difference-desperate times call for desperate measures. This was a discarded lyric, but it captures the essence of the song.

Feasting the Beast- I've always been a big Deicide band, and once tried to form a Deicide cover band. It didn't work out. This was a great title, though I have no idea what the song was about. Satan, I'm sure. I knew though, deep down, I could make it about something more substantial, of a malcontent that you just feed negativity to, like the sentiment from Ghostbusters 2, an entity that is the recipient only of negativity, and instead of blossoming into a butterfly, grows into a morbid beast. I am reminded of a recurring phrase from The Grass Crown, as the narrator describes Sulla, and how, when he is pushed, the naked, clawed creature emerges. This is really about the culmination, about what happens when the creature is allowed to grow along this one particular trajectory, with no love, no relent, and finally matures into a full grown and capable demon.

I Hate Standing Ovations- I once listened to a professor describe how difficult it was, for him or anyone, to remain sitting, during a standing ovation, such was the pressure he felt. I make it a point to not even clap during such occasions, much stand. If I get a dirty glance, I leer ferociously at the looker, burning a hole in the back of their head. In particular, I am referring to one occasion in particular that inspired this. When I was still a member of the FSU CR club, before I discovered what hypocrites they were, I attended an inaugural meeting, where the guest speaker was the lieutenant governor, some Negress. Great job, Gov.. Scott. I'm sure you got a whole 20-30 more black votes for having her on the ticket. Anyway, I listened indifferently, and out of what seemed to be obligation, at the end of her mediocre speech, everyone stood and began to applaud. I was in the front row, and just sat motionless. Honestly, I really just showed up for the free pizza, which I had to wait until the end of the meeting to get at, by which time it was cold. She approached gushing and gooing sycophants, who probably told her she was the greatest thing since sliced bread. Then she got to me, sitting, armed folded, disgusted that I was going to be eating cold pizza for dinner, and she was stupefied, but to her credit, she reached out her hand. I shook it out of common courtesy, yet begrudgingly. The whole thing is really blasphemous, when you really think about it. Who really deserves an actual standing ovation? I would stand and cheer for, perhaps, Aristotle, Winston Churchill, Cicero, just a handful of dudes. You overdo it, as with profanity, and you dilute the whole phenomenon.

No Apologies- Nirvana had a song, 'All Apologies', and thus this is really another 'anti-', response to that. Really, though, it is a response to the 'I demand an apology' culture we live in, where everyone is demanding an apology for having their precious little feelings hurt, and they usually get it. The price of living in a democracy, and having freedom, is that you are bound to be offended at some point. You have to grow a thick skin, or you'll never leave your bedroom, but sit in the corner and cry at your computer, writing indignant memes.

Last Stand- Think of Spartacus, in the culminating battle with the Romans. He stands before his army with his horse, and kills it. The message is simple- if we win, I won't need this horse, because there will be plenty of horses to take from the vanquished Romans. If we lose, I won't need ANY horse, because I'll be dead. Victory or Death. That was a line trumpeted in a great sci-fi cult classic, The Last Starfighter. There is no more retreat, or regrouping. I will either be successful here, however long it takes and whatever it takes, or I will perish. Problem is, what perishing actually looks like, when the bottom falls out, when you hit bottom, which I have. I never enter ANY situation anymore, without a safety net. You live and learn.

It is an interesting theme to explore. On the one hand, there is the 'with it or on it' Spartan mentality. On the other is the line I recall from General MacArthur, that the hand that clenches into a fist, and is unable to unclench, ends up useless, ultimately. Both have merits, but for this offering, I chose resolve over flexibility.

I also think of one of Sulla's major battles in Greece, where he was massively outnumbered by the Pontic army. He couldn't retreat, and go back to Rome a failure, as his enemies were already in power and waiting for him. He had to return triumphant, which meant he had to persevere and win the battle. He did both.