Five Song Friday: Your Deepest, Darkest Fears Are Unfounded
Episode #130: Floating Meatballs, Rock Disputes and Cylon Dreams
I know bad things happen to good people all the time, but you’re being ridiculous.
Relax. There’s nothing hiding under your bed. No demonic clown with claws. No ghost-white Japanese girl with wet hair.
Last I checked it was just a dusty sock and some dog toys.
Every October, you have this habit of going straight to the worst-case scenario. You let your imagination get the best of you.
But your life isn’t a Stephen King novel or a slasher movie. It’s not an episode of American Horror Story or Tales from the Crypt.
If anything, it’s something on C-SPAN, mixed with a show about cats and maybe, after too much box wine, an episode of The Real Housewives of America’s Funniest Home Videos.
Simmer down, Sally. There’s nothing to be afraid of.
The sound you heard outside last night was not an escaped mental patient with a hook hand. And that hook was not dripping with the blood of a freshly killed co-ed.
It was probably just a non-murdering raccoon eating stale bagels out of your supercan.
Calm down, Buster Brown.
The bump you felt was mild turbulence and not the left engine shitting the bed. Your plane is not going down. You will not crash in the remote forests of New Jersey and have to survive on the barbecued thigh meat of the husky dad sitting in 19B.
But you are changing planes in Atlanta, so… thoughts and prayers.
Otherwise, you are not in immediate danger. It’s all good in the hood!
Your home is not built on ancient Indian burial ground. The furniture is not moving by itself and the walls aren’t bleeding. And you didn't just hear a ghostly, evil voice telling you to leave.
That was just your fancy smoke alarm letting you know your toast is toast.
Take a chill pill. Untwist your knickers.
You will not be cursed if you watch that VHS tape. You will not die within seven days.
But people will wonder why you have a VCR and they’ll assume you’re too cheap to pay for Netflix or you’re some kind of hipster doofus who is super horny for analog media.
Not great either way.
Look, you’ve got scary stuff on your mind right now. It’s the spooky season, I get it. But enough is enough. You’ve been jumpier than Kevin Hart whenever he hears the name “Diddy.”
Cool your jets. Take a breath. All is well.
That’s not a leather-faced chainsaw maniac coming to carve you up in the middle of the afternoon, that’s just Roger next door blowing leaves. You know Roger. Roger’s cool.
He’s not “hey come over and be alone with me in my house” cool, but you’ve never seen him wearing a human skin mask, right? One point for Roger!
Look, I don’t really have the time right now to put ALL of your irrational fears to rest, so let’s bring this home…
No, your car is not possessed by Satan. Your daughter left the radio tuned to 107.7 FM Hot Hot Hits and what you heard was something called a “Shaboozey.”
The odd-looking man on your front porch isn’t a flesh-eating zombie in search of sustenance. You should avoid him at all costs, but not because he’s hungry for warm brains and small intestines. He just wants to sell you solar panels.
You’re not going to get your hand stuck in the sink disposal because it’s not going to automatically turn on while you are fishing out the tiny spoon. That’s not how electricity works. Stop crying and finish washing the dishes.
There are no subhumans living within the walls of your house. Those noises you hear? Probably just squirrels. Ordinary squirrels who don’t have glowing red eyes, knife-fingered gloves or the strength to yank the comforter off your bed at 3:15AM.
And finally, that crow is not stalking you. It doesn’t watch you sleep. It doesn’t caw your name and you can’t be in the front yard screaming up at the tree and threatening to punch its “stupid ass bird face.” So just let it go.
Hakuna matata, man.
Despite what Keith Morrison and Dateline want you to think, monsters aren’t real.
Yes, the world is a scary place. There is evil and darkness. Horrible things happen every day. But don’t let those boogeyman bastards bring you down.
Keep your chin up. Get your mind right. And think happy thoughts.
But I would definitely stay out of the basement until November.
Just to be safe.
Five Song Friday #130
“Ready?” - Lulu Lewis
These guys want to know if you are ready. Ready to get serious about synthesizers and the Greek alphabet. This song is like a funky, krunky, Sesame Street segment. When I close my eyes I can see it set to 1970’s animation with lots of flared pants and exploding stars. I also see floating meatball sandwiches, but I think that’s just because I’m ready for lunch.
“Get Off My Rock” - FIDLAR
I know this rock has been around for millions of years and I don’t have any kind of actual legal claim to it, but it belongs to me. You can see that I have my beers and cigarettes here. I have marked it with a can of spray paint that clearly says “Fuck Off Nerds.” And whenever my friends need to find me, this is where they look. Seems like a clear case to me, so please be on your way.
“Private Number” - William Bell, Judy Clay
We had a moment. We hit it off and I was looking forward to seeing you again. I know you’re mad, but honestly, I wasn’t avoiding you. Here’s what happened, I don’t answer calls that say “Private Number.” You showed up as “unknown,” so I hit decline. It’s just not worth it, because I’ve been burned so many times before. You say hello and next thing you know, you have a timeshare in Myrtle Beach. Or a 2-year membership to the Turkey Neck Cream Club. Or toilet insurance.
“Telephone Call” - The Respectables
Accidental theme alert! Shout out to Alexander Graham Bell! Great job on creating a thing that once lived on the wall in the kitchen that we once used to have conversations with each other and now that thing fits in our pocket and people use it to send pictures of their genitals back and forth! You did it! Thank you!
“B-Side Wins Again” - DJ Spooky Vs. Dave Lombardo
Last night I went to sleep and made a wish. I wished that there was a super-dope song that sounded like a duet with Chuck D and a Cylon from the 1978 Battlestar Galactica TV series. When I woke up the next day, this song was in my computer! Was it a musical miracle? I like to think so. Have I listened to this song a half million times in the last month? You bet. Does it make me move in a ridiculous way that would leave me mortified if said moves were witnessed by another human being? Affirmative!
“I leave out the parts that people skip.” - Elmore Leonard (Born October 11, 1925)
Thanks for reading!
Sincerely,
DJ CrankyPete