Eat, Drink, And be Merry. It’s All You Have.

People are like: “Anglin, how did you not know about that Modest Mouse album? It came out two years ago, and it’s garbage.”

Well, friend, you’re begging the question, aren’t you, then? I don’t read Pitchfork, because I’m not a faggot (that is to say, I don’t suck dick). The only thing I care about is my nostalgia, and frankly, I don’t really even care about that.

Do you know what I listen to, faggot? I listen to Steely Dan, and I only listen to Steely Dan. I don’t want to listen to music that I listened to when I was a teenager. Why would I want to listen to that tripe? I don’t know if you know this, but my parents are divorced. My childhood was a hell on earth. Why would I want to be reminded of this?

Am I a little pussy faggot who wallows in sorrow for the sake of making myself feel deep? Here’s the thing, retard: people who try to make themselves feel deep are not deep. They are shallow to the max. They are empty inside.

They are living in a hell on earth.

You can say “you retard, all of our parents are divorced, or our fathers are broken shells of men, totally submitted to our whore mothers. No one wants to think about that.”

Uh, yeah – that’s my point. These songs remind us of that. Why would we want to be reminded of that?

Does that make us stronger? No, retard, it makes us weaker. The past is over and it should be buried. It should be forgotten. The past should be burned, and it should be pissed on. Do you have pictures of your youth? Burn them. Forget all of it.

We must move forward, always forward, because forward is the only direction in front of us, and the only place we can go.

Why live in hell on earth? Seriously – why?

God gave us an opportunity for joy.

He gave us that because He loves us and He loves us more than any of us can even begin to understand a tiny fraction of.

He gave us suffering so that we could understand the joy, and you gay faggots want to wallow in the suffering, rather than embrace the joy he created for us?



If I’m going to listen to indie rock, I’m only going to listen to the Interpol albums that were good, and I will maybe listen to Kurt Vile (like that good one with Courtney) and War on Drugs (but not the new one).

Maybe Pretty Pimpin’ reminds me of why I need joy, and reminds me of who I am. I am me, and the spirit of God lives in me, but the spirit it lives in is a plane of suffering.

Here’s the fact: this music from when I was a kid makes me want to do hard drugs. Thankfully, I live in a shithole, where if you get caught doing drugs, you end up in prison forever. What a blessing. But even so, why would I want to listen to this crap?

Quite frankly, I don’t listen to any music at all. Except for Steely Dan. And maybe trap and some drill.

Songs about niggers killing each other brings me happiness. It makes me forget the suffering that is my life.

Because that is the thing you faggots need to understand, but you will never understand, because you are stupid, pathetic babies: life is suffering.

In my entire stupid, shitty life, there is only one single thing I’ve learned, and that is this: the girls don’t really care what’s on, as long as it plays ’til dawn, no static at all.

There is no “happiness.”

King Solomon told you, but you’re too stupid to understand, or even too stupid to read it at all.

“There is nothing better for a man, than that he should eat and drink, and that he should make his soul enjoy good in his labour. This also I saw, that it was from the hand of God.”

That’s all, faggot.

That’s all.

Remember it.



Be merry.

That’s all you have and that’s all any of us have and the Lord gave it to us so that we can deal with this hell that is life.