Leeuwenhoek had stolen and peeped into the fantastic sub-visible world of little things, creatures that had lived, had bred, had battled, had died, completely hidden from and unknown to all men from the beginning of time. Beasts these were of a kind that ravaged and annihilated whole races of men ten million times larger than they were themselves. Beings these were, more terrible than fire-spitting dragons or hydra-headed monsters. They were silent assassins that murdered babies in warm cradles and kings in sheltered places. It was this invisible, insignificant, but implacable-and sometimes friendly- world Leeuwenhoek had looked into for the first time of all men of all countries. ~Microbe Hunters

Thursday, 22 March 2012

Dean Brody

I really don't know how to express my feelings about country music and their newly-multiplied fan-base at the moment.

It pains me to say, there was a Dean Brody concert on campus last night and every single slut went to it. Every single slut has found country songs in which they can take lyrics and post them as their facebook status, or they relatable songs about their life and what is going on around them. It's not like I blame them; how would anyone 'feel like a plastic bag' (Katy Perry) or be so cocky as to sing about 'this is why I'm hot' (MIMS).

Country music has started down this horrible spiral, as well. Red Solo Cup, seriously, Toby Keith? Horrible.  Horrible is pleasing the sluts Taylor Swift is 'converting' to Country with her Non-Country music. Horrible is making it on the hit radio stations. My pride does not fall with Horrible. Horrible has mad its own class of horrible. This music is 'pushing boundaries' according to some musically educated people, unlike myself. However, I know where I like my boundaries, and I don't like them touched by no one. I especially don't like the boundaries approaching horrible pop/rock/rap.

Country is mine. Country is me growing up. Country is my first day of high school, first kiss, first derby, and the hundred-millionth time of working outside with my dad. Country is everything to me. I love the sound it makes with the twang and hot southern accents. How can something that means so much to me, be shared with the sluts of the world? How can I have something in common with them? I try so hard to be different- to be unique- and this is what I get? A Taylor Swift song that touches the hearts of everyone, and turns them all into plaid-lovers? No one can touch the oldies. No one can make them horrible. Alan Jackson and George Strait have always been some of my heros.

For that reason, I am going back to a better class of loser. That's right Randy Travis. These new songs coming out are nothing like they used to be. I'm going back to my old CDs and playlists where I can be a young, innocent child again ridding in my fathers lap steering the truck, or getting ready for a demolition derby in the driveway. I don't need this new-age country stuff that preaches girls to dance for a  guy on a tractor, I'm going back to reflecting where I was on 9-11.

Keep your eyes and ears peeled for good music, folks. Hard to come by these days!

Gahh nostalgic.

Darn good and sure of it,



  1. Alan Jackson singing Remember When....that makes my heart melt.
    Red Solo Cup....not so much!
    I wrote a little post about Country Girl, Shake it for Me called Misogyny with a Catchy Beat is Still Misogyny.
    Think we of like minds here!

    1. This comment has been removed by the author.