We Are The Bald

I’m in a band called the Falcon with my friend Dan, who’s one of the Alkaline Trio, and my friend Neil, who’s a Lawrence Arm, Treasure Fleeter, sometimes Smoking Pope and all sorts of other magical things. We just released a new song. First one for us in 8 years. It’s called We Are The Bald and at the risk of overselling it, it’s the single greatest piece of music ever commited to the digital medium. Here is the song, and here are the lyrics. Play it at a dangerous volume and scream along like you’re on fire, burning alive from the inside out, or don’t play it at all.

Love you guys. It’s my birthday and here is my gift to you:

A small dick and a bad attitude

What the fuck do you think I’m gonna do?

I came to cry, and I came to pretend

Rolling with the emperor, sharing clothes with him

and I like the way you look at me

even when i’m heaving up disease

we took a night on the dirty town

til them motherfuckers came and shut us down

I’m the pervert hanging in the halls

We are the bald. We’ve got no hair.

Keep quiet and we can make it out

the fat one will regret running his mouth

I’m an ugly child

you’re a tubby gal

If you’re up for the nausea

I’m up for the challenge

Bounce off these motherfucking walls

We are the bald. We’ve got no hair.

 

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CELEBRITY NUDES!!!! LEAKED!

“DON’T TAKE NUDE PICTURES IF YOU DON’T WANT THEM ON THE INTERNET!” some dork is furiously typing right now. Aaaaaaand now there’s some other smug dork typing the same thing. They’re all collecting ‘hacked n00dz,’ patting each other on the back, looking down at the prurient, self-pornographers from atop some (very boring) moral high ground. And no one really seems to argue their point. Sure, there are a few concessions given: Yes, it’s an invasion of privacy. Yes, it’s unfortunate. Yes, whoever did this is a Bad Person, but you know what? If you don’t want your naked pictures to end up on the internet, don’t take them. Right? Right. Wrong. That’s total bullshit.

Look, if we’re gonna run with this (deeply flawed) logic, here are some new maxims for you: If you don’t want to be mugged, don’t carry a wallet. If you don’t want your TV stolen and sold for a fraction of what you paid for it, then don’t have a nice TV in your house. If you don’t want to be mocked by talentless trolls for the rest of your life, then never attempt to express yourself artistically. And for fucks sake, if you don’t want shitty ex lovers to talk about your small dick/mommy issues/flappity vagina/tendency to get drunk and act like a total monster, well, then you should never ever become romantically involved with anyone.

The shitty, puritanical, troglodydian logic behind this victim shaming would be shocking if it wasn’t so run of the mill. How dare anyone take naked pictures of themselves! It’s…what? A sin? Maybe? No? Hmmm. I guess it’s NOT technically a sin. But it’s not very sophisticated or classy, that’s for sure. Maaaaaybe that’s true, but it’s exciting. Driving fast cars, watching football, playing minecraft, being at a sweaty rock concert, drinking beer, skydiving, eating nachos, reading comics, riding dune buggies and the general old act of just fucking your spouse are not exactly sophisticated pursuits either, but they’re fun, and only the most bizarre space alien would say that engaging in any of these activities are grounds for inviting theft of property and public humiliation. Seriously, what gives, nation of puritan grandmas? My ACTUAL grandma is less uptight than you.

So, yeah. I’m upset at the way that the current spate of “hacked celebrity nudes” has created a noxious victim blaming firestorm here on the internet, stemming mostly from everyone wanting to see Jennifer Lawrence and Kate Upton naked, feeling guilty, and then shifting that guilt onto those girls as to feel a little bit better about looking at their intimate photos. Pretty lame, even for you, Millhouse.

Listen, I get it. We’ve been burned by celebrity tits about a million times. Kim and Paris both claimed that those tapes of them fucking those losers were stolen, when that’s just patently not true. They were, in both cases, calculated maneuvers designed to catapult each of them into superstardom while making tidy profits. Hell, that teen mom chick went for the same thing, but used a highly desirable male porn star and then STILL had the gall to claim it was a “private tape.” The words kind of lose all meaning in the American-celebrity-tit-and-beaver-vacuum. However, the fact remains: it’s not sinful or bad to take pictures of yourself naked, partially naked, or fucking or jacking off. It’s not. And it’s not unreasonable to share those pictures with someone who you KNOW (and this is key [I’m looking at you, unsoclicited dickpic guys]) would like them. AND, and this is the big one, y’all, it’s not unreasonable to take such pictures, and even share such pictures with people you like, and expect some discretion, AND it’s not unreasonable to be totally bummed and feel violated or betrayed if said pictures are made public. That doesn’t make anyone stupid or naïve or a slut or a fool or any of it. It’s totally reasonable. Just because you have a nice bike doesn’t mean it’s your fault if someone steals it. Just because you’re wearing a slutty outfit doesn’t mean it’s your fault if someone fucks you against your will and just because you’ve got sexy pictures of yourself on your phone or computer does not (does NOT!) DOES NOT mean it’s your fault if some shithead hacks your phone and puts that shit everywhere. You want a world where nudity and sexuality are sins punishable by public shaming and more? Go to Afghanistan or Iran or anywhere where uptight, virginal religious psychopaths kill women for daring to have bodies and ideas about said bodies. Go cast your stones with the rest of the creeps, but fuck…leave the people who are just trying to have a little fun on this earth in peace. Sheesh.

And Kate Upton and Jennifer Lawrence, if you guys wanna talk more to an enlightened dude like me, I got your backs. Just hit me up. My aol name is fatschlongdaddy69. Love you ladies. Keep yer heads up.

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