The Council’s Ruling — Worst Form of Music

October 1, 2007, 12:00 pm; posted by
Filed under Council  | 1 Comment

This and every Monday, the Bweinh!tributors, having convened in secret for hours of reasoned debate and consideration, will issue a brief and binding ruling on an issue of great societal import.

This week’s question — What is the worst form of music?

Tom delivers the ruling of the Council, joined by Erin, Chloe, and Job:

Rap. A seething cauldron of lawlessness, violence and profanity, with a side of rampant misogyny.

 

Chloe also concurs in the judgment, joined by David:

The worst is American rap. While rap is used positively in other countries, in America, it not only has flimsy lyrics and only three to four notes, but it also incites listeners to beat their women, spit on their parents, and kill everyone else.

 

MC-B also concurs in the judgment:

Rap. Coming from a culture of woman-beating, cop-killing and drug use, this music rarely even features instruments — unless you count sirens or that guy going “uhhhnnnnh” in the background.

 

Djere also concurs in the judgment:

Rap/Hip Hop — a downward spiral of self-indulgence and misogyny.

 

Steve dissents, joined by Connie:

Emo. As fun as tooth decay and as entertaining as watching paint whine about how no one loves it. Shut your mouth and wash off Mom’s mascara, you freak!

 

Josh dissents:

That one song John Mayer keeps releasing over and over again.

 

Mike dissents:

Techno. It throbs and little else.

 

Next week: What is the best piece of playground equipment?


Comments

1 Comment to “The Council’s Ruling — Worst Form of Music”

  1. Steve on October 1st, 2007 12:54 pm

    I fear that the Council has allowed the worst forms of rap to infect its opinion of the genre. Nothing inherent to rap demands the venom you rightfully spew at its vilest examples, and I know personally that most in the majority enjoy several rap songs.

    The very concept of emo, however, from its heavy-lidded makeup-clad androgyny to its complete focus on the self and its basest emotions, demands no less than a punch to the face. I listen to a few of its songs, but those are the rare exceptions that manage to convert the general dreadfulness into something worth hearing more than once.

    Rap is the dog — versatile and dangerous when misused.

    Emo is the snake — useful only for forestalling the reproduction of small, annoying mammals.

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