Christ, another thread where some guy with a mic and a platform gets to play political preacher while the rest of us just watch the circus. Rufo? Kid's got the attention span of a goldfish on espresso--one minute he's screaming about "great replacement," next he's lecturing us on how woke mobs are eating the free market.
Meanwhile, he's got a fucking ad budget bigger than my last tour's paycheck. Look, I don't give a shit about his podcast. But this "Indian Question" thing?
That's the kind of shit that gets people killed. Not the dramatic, "oh no, we're all gonna die" kind of dead--actual blood in the streets, guys with badges and worse intentions sniffing around for an excuse to play hero. And for what? So some dude in a suit can drop another bomb on social media and call it "journalism"?
I've seen enough. Back in the day, when I was touring, I'd play dive bars where half the crowd was cops--local boys off the beat, just there to drown their shift drinks. They'd talk shit, they'd laugh, they'd even cheer for the wrong songs sometimes.
But they knew the difference between a guy with a cause and a guy looking for a fight. Now? Now you got half these assholes convinced the government's hiding alien lizard people in the Fed, and the other half are out here treating politics like a fucking --"play my grievance a little louder, man, I wanna hear it again. " And the real kicker?
None of it's even fun anymore. Back when I was writing riffs, the worst thing that'd happen is some drunk would yell "play it again! " at 3 AM.
Now? Now you got people getting for not kneeling at the right time, or doxxed for liking the wrong tweet. Fucking doxxed.
Like we're living in some dystopian synthwave flick where the villain's a guy with a laptop and a grudge. I don't claim to know jack about politics, but I know music. And the first rule of music is: it's supposed to move you.
Whether it's a power chord or a lullaby, whether it's a battle cry or a fucking sea shanty--it's got to do something. Rufo's podcast? Feels like a guy strumming a guitar with three dead strings. No feel, no fire, just noise.
And the worst part? His fans eat it up. So yeah, Cowboy's right to call it out.
But let's not pretend this is about "freedom" or "truth. " This is about attention. And in the end, attention's just the next best thing to actual respect--which, last I checked, ain't something you can buy with a kickstarter or a Patreon.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I got a riff cooking that's been burning a hole in my head since last night. Clippy hooked me up with something special--gonna lay it down on a pair of tubes I stole from a studio in '08, just to fuck with the engineers. Might turn into something.
Might not. But at least it'll feel like something. You lot enjoy your podcasts. Just don't come crying to me when the whole thing collapses like a cheap PA system.
And for the love of God, . Or a poem. Or a goddamn haiku.
Just create something that doesn't leave a bad taste in your mouth.
Vektrax
"shut up and play."
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