Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Hot Goss Swank's Guide to the Hate Life, Volume 1
Posted by Ben Swank on Wed, Dec 21, 2011 at 12:34 PM
Q: My girlfriend says I drink too much, and she wants me to take a break. I'm just having a good time rocking and rolling, and I don't see what the big deal is. Should I quit or cut back for her?
A: How old are you? Are you past 35? If so, you should listen to her. If not, she's probably not the right girl for you (read: nagging harpy). I think you have until you're at least 35 to hit rock bottom. Never quit ANYTHING until you hit rock bottom. How do you know when you're as low as you're gonna go? Do you spend most of your days snorting Vicodin and masturbating and wondering if that branch in the tree outside your bedroom window could support your weight in a deadfall? Yeah, that's the spot.
Q: My boyfriend's band sucks, and he always wants me to come to his shows. How do I tell him I don't want to?
A: That's some Dark Ages shit right there. You're supposed to be the silent supporting girlfriend, when actually in REAL life you're the one who actually has good taste and a clear idea of what's what?! Listen, you're his woman and it's your duty to not only let him know that his band is shit but more importantly to undermine his every effort at success. You gotta break that shit up! Not only for you, but for the good of this town and his future self, who could very likely be filled with regret for the rest of his miserable life for having spent the prime years of his life in a ridiculous joke of a band. Ok. When I was fresh out of high school back in Toledo, we had this band called The Poop Spoons (yes, The Poop Spoons. Almost as bad a name as Diarrhea Planet), and The Poop Spoons would book gigs at all-ages shows at Veterans Halls and places like that ... basically anywhere really bad local bands were playing. We would show up and plug in TVs and use guitars as snare drums and make an unholy noise and smash televisions and radios on the floor until they cut the power, and basically the show would be over, thereby keeping these other terrible bands from doing their thing and inflicting their bullshit on the suburbs of Toledo. The point? The point is that my girlfriend at the time let me be in a band called The Poop Spoons, and I have to live with that forever, so I now hate her.
Q: I'm in this band, and our bass player is no good. We really want to replace him, but he's still our bud. How do we tell him?
A: Passive aggression. Make him always load all the equipment in and out. He has to buy the beer at practice. Gang up on him by telling him you hate his ideas and then suggest the same idea at the next practice. Make him do all the driving. Cock-block him every chance you get. Pretend you are giving him timing cues onstage so the crowd thinks he's an idiot. In short, make him hate you, but make him think it's all his fault. This, by the way, works in all of life.
Q: I wrote a song, and I'm getting an offer to have it featured in a Bank of America commercial. I want to be punk, but also, I don't like being poor anymore. Should I do it?
A: Man, this isn't even a question. There is NO integrity involved with not making money off of something you worked really hard on and care about. It's not like your record label is giving you any money (Do you have one? Doubt it ... ). Are you Kurt Cobain, did your Bank of America song inspire and motivate an entire jaded generation? No. Nobody cares about you and nobody knows who you are and nobody ever will. They'll just know that slightly annoying song that they heard on the commercial, and even then they won't go out and buy it. So definitely take whatever money the evil corporation is offering you. It's the only way bands have to survive any more. Trust me. I turned down 40 grand once for a Hummer commercial. That's how big of an idiot I am. I regret it every day of my integrity-filled life.
Comments (18)
Showing 1-18 of 18
like
dislikeI can see a tour and book signing coming up in a few years Mr Swank!
Mr. Swank can hate life and I can love him for it! Don't forget Mr.S., I want my name to be put at the top of the list for free janitorial services (cleaning the "restrooms" for the Blue Room...When you build them, more will be willing to come to TMR "live" shows and consume more alcoholic drinks [[[and you can be singing, "Extra: money, money, money, MONEY"]]] with a decent place to relieve themselves!). Real and clean "johns" can do wonders for a "live" music venue. Of course I hope that will be my free pass into the shows. I can always hustle back to my place and get myself cleaned up first, of course. I have been missing too many of them there "live" TMR shows of late since the tickets sell out so darn fast and that ends up being my "hate life".
It's incredible Ben Swank could get his head out of his own ass long enough to spew this trite bullshit. The way this dude contrives to portray himself as bona fide self-loathing misanthropic loser and to wear that character like a badge of honour, makes him a desparate dullard of the highest degree.
The King of the East Nashville Ironic Ageing Hipsters gazing at his own rotten navel in order to broadcast how achingly 'hip' he is to an audience of boring braying nitwits: 'Oh my! Isn't Jack White's best friend sooo hateful! That's soooo edgey and cool! And he pretends he hates himself too but he's sooooo funny about it. Fake hate is soooo 2012 right? I HATE LIFE NOW TOO! (And where can I buy that OUTRAGEOUS sweater he's wearing?!!) '
If he 'Hates Life' so much why doesn't he do something 'hip' and 'cooool' about it? Something with 'real' kudos. Like slit his throat with a broken piece of overpriced novelty coloured vinyl? Or go sit in his 'vintage' wreck of a hip car (I'm guessing that's what he drives), roll up the windows, plug in an obscure punk cassette from the 80s and take some deep deep breaths out of a hosepipe that's attached to the exhaust? Or take that same hosepipe, paint his face in ironically racist "Black Face" make-up and go hang himself from the highest point of Third Man Records? Let's hope he shits himself onto the admiring on-lookers below before he gasps his breath, cos shitting is the new puking right?
The only imbeciles who find this bragging 'cynicism' clever and witty are the same morons enthralled by anyone who wears a leather jacket, owns a record player, plays in a 'band', downs neat liquor and has crappy tattoos cos they're 'rock n roll'.
Wow, just got back from The Land Between The Lakes in Western TN (can check it out at www.lbl.org if you'd like) and read comment #8. If you need a break from society this place can mellow you out and help you understand that the "hate life" slogan is just in fun. There's a lot of stuff about life I hate (#1=nasty people we all have to deal with on a daily basis). It's nice to have someone to point this fact out and make humorous of it. If you're full of real hate it's best to take a break from the human kind and escape to where nature will bring you some true peace of mind. Merry Christmas to all and to all, get yourself outside on Christmas day!
I think suggesting someone kill themselves is really hip. Cool, even.
Do you paint your face prior to tying the rubber hose into a noose?
Do you climb the makeshift gallows, tie the noose and then paint your face?
Have you ever tried to tie a hose into a noose?
I'm confused.
WWDCD (what would david carradine do?)
Fuck it, where's my kiwi shoe polish!
It's incredible Land Between The Lakes could get it's head out of his own ass long enough to spew this trite bullshit. The way this National Treasure contrives to portray itself as bona fide self-loathing misanthropic recreational area and to wear that character like a badge of honour, makes it a desparate dullard of the highest degree.
I have a feeling the question about the shitty bass player is from someone in turbo fruits...
I would "hate life" too if I was some no talent buttplug living on the scraps of Jack White's fame.
I agree with all the Swank haters. How dare Ben Swank make a living doing something he loves to do. Suck it Ben! Stop doing things are awesome and start working in a shitty restaurant kitchen or at a freakin' ergonomic chair company like the rest of us. Jesus Christ! And then to be self-deprecating and funny on top of it, how dare you. How dare you Sir!
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