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Thursday, June 09, 2005
Creativity sucks. Honestly, it does.

Now, if you read my previous posts and such, you'll often see me lamenting my lack of creativity. Most of the time, this is true. I've not written a song in a very, very long time. But, I have written many, many songs. I've not had a good idea for a story or screenplay in years. Yet, I have had many good ideas for stories and screenplays.

Let me explain.

I'm sure I'm not the only one who has moments of lucidity right before falling asleep. I hope I'm not the only one, anyway.

I don't know how it is for other people, but for me, there are times when I will hear entire symphonies before running into Optimus Prime and the rest of the Autobots as they pretend to fight against the Decepticons while keeping the real war secret from the rest of humanity. I hope I'm not the only one who has screenplays not only written, but storyboarded and anamaticed (v. an-a-MAT-ikt, to run a storyboard through an animated rough draft) before hanging out with The Beastie Boys and convincing them that they are good enough to record another album.

A good chunk of my friends are in bands. Not shitty bands, either. Really good bands. Listening to them perform, I am in awe. I have written five songs in my life: "When the Soap Gets In My Pisshole (It Makes me Want to Cry)", "I Am Spanking My Own Ass ('Cause I'm so Bad to You)", "Oh Yeah", "Curvee" and "Johnny Has ADD". These cats, the cats in Ideal Cleaners, Terminals, Eagle*Seagull, The Bad Sects, Icarian Bird, (The Zyklon) Brimstone (Bees) Howl, The Master 8000, Sad Old Lady, all of these cats... five songs is nothing to them. It's less than an EP.

These cats understand the link between thought, language, image and melody far better than I do. Unless I am almost asleep. Then, I am a genius.

While some people might call me out, I do not have shitty taste in music. If I say something's good, it generally is. It may take you a few listens to get it, but when I say something's good, I'm not a liar.

I just wish that I were more talented. I have talent, but it's very, very limited. I can't play piano, I can barely play guitar, I can't read music, I can't transcribe music, and while I'd like to think I can put words together in a clever way, my best work is this:

Doesn't take PCP,
Doesn't take LSD.
He takes Ritalin.
Sometimes he commits a sin.

He simply can't sit still
unless he has his little pill.
Attention span of a gnat,
he likes playing with his cat.

Johnny has ADD,
and that's OK with me.
Long as he's had his pill,
he's someone that I won't kill.

Gets distracted easily,
'specially when he has to pee.
Sometimes he can be a pain
without Ritalin in his brain.

He likes to look at girls.
The ones with their hair in curls.
Still lives with his folks.
Camel is the brand he smokes.

Johnny has ADD,
and that's OK with me.
As long as he's had his pill
he's someone that I won't kill.

(guitar solo)

Johnny has ADD.
That's alright with me.
As long as he's had his pill,
he's someone that I won't kill.

Johnny has ADD.
He says, "Don't pity me.
I'm just an average Joe,
but my mind is always
on the go!"

(guitar solo and outro)

And that's my A Game.

Compared to something like "Get Me Away from Here, I'm Dying" by Belle and Sebastian:

Ooh! Get me away from here I'm dying
Play me a song to set me free
Nobody writes them like they used to
So it may as well be me
Here on my own now after hours
Here on my own now on a bus
Think of it this way
You could either be successful or be us
With our winning smiles, and us
With our catchy tunes and words
Now we're photogenic
You know, we don't stand a chance

Oh, I'll settle down with some old story
About a boy who just like me
Thought there was love in everything and everyone
You're so naive!
They always reach a sorry ending
They always get it in the end
Still it was worth it as I turned the pages solemnly, and then
With a winning smile, the poor boy
With naivety succeeds
At the final moment, I cried
I always cry at endings

Oh, that wasn't what I meant to say at all
From where I'm sitting,
Falling against the lonely tenement
Has set my mind to wander
Into the windows of my lovers
They never know unless I write
"This is no declaration, I just thought I'd let you know goodbye"
Said the hero in the story
"It is mightier than swords
I could kill you sure
But I could only make you cry with these words"

What the hell do I have to bring to the table? I can't play the music in my head, I can't write the stories down without losing them by waking up...

Shit, I'm a big ol' nerd, but even I can't write a song like MC Chris.


MC Chris ownz
I wanna go to an MC Chris show
But he never tours, so,
in the meantime
I'm gonna memorize all of his rhymes

I spell w3rd with a three
Name's MC
Other rappers flow weak
Like window unit AC's

Latinas on my penis
Japanese on they knees
I love all the ladies
As long as they eighteen

I got bling up the ying

A plethora of Porsches
I'll say anything
'Cause my mouth is remorseless

Even The Source says
My hip hop's a vortex
Leave horseheads on doorsteps
My mic checks cost Corvettes

The strobe light explodes white
As I step on the floor
The barkeep knows the code
So he throws me a Stroh's

Weak MC's decompose
'Cause they know I can flow
Like Wessel comma Zam
Through Courosant corridors

Humidors filled with stoges
Filled with dro
Like 90210
Is filled with the word bro

Fuck the lexicon of octagons
I'm all about go
These amateurs got catheters
I'm all about pro's

MC Chris ownz
I wanna go to an MC Chris show
But he never tours, so,
in the meantime
I'm gonna memorize all of his rhymes

I'm lit like a Branch Davidian
Or what's left of the lithium
In Cobain's cranium

I fill Wembly Stadium

Once bitten, twice shy
Call it "Pyromania"
When I roll up in Kashyyyk

I roll three Jedi's
The fleet of peeps that I creep
All got vest's underneath

There's no need to believe
In the heat that I keep
Or the swears that I *bleep*
Of the heiresses I freak

It's embarrising to me
I'm like kerosene it seems
Or D-R-E-W B with incendiary schemes
Blowin' up, makin' cream

I am just like Howard Dean

When I scream
I get red
I get mean

Can't believe you be buying
What I be shucking and jiving
Fuck it if I am the next big thing
With promotional tie-ins

I am just cartoon making rapper
You think I'm lying
Everybody bust a move
Like it is that rave in Zion

My self aggradizing
and deprecation keeps 'em guessing
Call my Venus Flytrap
'Cause my DJ's Howard Hessman

Word 'em up, yo
Word 'em up, yo
I just let the rap game
Out of a choke hold

MC Chris ownz
I wanna go to an MC Chris show
But he doesn't tour, so in the meantime
I'm gonna memorize all of his rhymes

Fer the love of Christ! He name-checks Zam Wessel (the assassin who tried to kill Padme in "Attack of the Clones") AND Kashyyyk (the Wookie homeworld). Not to mention "WKRP in Cincinatti" and "The Matrix".

So, to sum shit up:
I am creative, but only right before I fall asleep. Or when I'm a freshman in college.

Comments by: YACCS