#December2013
IRON MAIDEN plays for their MUSIC PIRATES and MAKE HUGE LOOT.
Iron Maiden ain’t fucking around with their pirates. Unlike some blow hard former-heroes of mine (Metallica!), the righteous bros of Maiden do the opposite of persecuting the pirates. They tour the piracy-laden regions, making huge loot off of their concert performances.
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Monday Morning Commute: Ororo’s Forecast
Hulloh there, fellow crewmates of Spaceship OL! There seem to be more of you than ever, which is goddamn spectacular! C’mon out from behind those crates of surplus Atari 2600 games, there’s no need to hide! We’ve got plenty of Bantha fodder for everyone, and we’re just about to dive into the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE!
What’s that, you ask?
Simply put, the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE is OL‘s attempt to vaccinate its patrons against the vile disease that is the workweek. So before you plunge headfirst into five days of 9-5 misery, check out the bits of entertainment I’ll be using to safeguard myself against ennui and spiritual ruin. Then, if you’re daring, you can hit up the comments and show off your own set of curative salves and topical creams.
It’s Internet show-and-tell at its very best.
Quit delayin’, let’s dance!
Face of a Franchise: Metal Mascot
[face of a franchise presents two individuals that’ve fulfilled the same role. your task — choose the better of the two and defend your choice in the rancor pit that is the comments section]
As everyone knows, heavy metal is a genre of music performed exclusively by Satanists in the hopes of stealing souls for the Devil. But with the religious right constantly exerting their will, it isn’t always easy provide the Dark Lord the souls he craves. Fortunately, heavy metal wised up and stole a page from Big Tobacco’s playbook by employing cartoons! Since kids can’t resist cartoons, heavy metal has been able to ensure the damnation of millions of youthful spirits!
It’s wonderful.
So, who is the most metal mascot of all-time? Well, the debate always seems to come down to two contenders: Iron Maiden’s Eddie and Megadeth’s Vic Rattlehead.
DEFEAT. 025 – Golden Years
[DEFEAT. is Rendar Frankenstein’s truest attempt at fiction. Presented in weekly episodes, the novella tells the tale of Daryl Millar – a hero who dies at the intersection of pop culture, science-fiction, war epic, and fantasy]
“So you really don’t think that the newest one is any good?”
“Listen, I didn’t say it’s not good!”
“Well, you kinda did when–”
“Damn it, 8-Bit! You always do this! You take something I say and then you spin it so that the meaning is completely different!” Riff was exasperated, partly because his friend was busting his balls and partly because he had failed to adequately express himself.
8-Bit removed his glasses, inspecting the lenses for grime. He held them up to GameWorld’s neon sign, which shone brighter than ever against the black night sky. It’s a strange thought — the clearest messages appear when the least number of people are around to receive them. Doesn’t matter, though. Most people don’t even heed the warnings they actually pick up on. But then again, there’s always one or two that do.
The nine brilliant letters cut their way through the blackness, helping the nerd clean his spectacles. Even as they got smaller during the walk home, the characters of GameWorld’s sign would forever read like a beacon of comfort to 8-Bit.
With vision regained, the dialogue continued. “Ok, let me get this straight. You said, and I quote, ‘Why the fuck would they use synthesizers? The damn things ruin the album!’ What was I supposed to take from that?”
Riff paused for a moment, trying to figure out how to undermine his friend’s well-crafted strategy. “Well…Are you sure I said that?”
“I’m positive.”
“I don’t know. It’d been about an hour since you had to feed the BurgerTime machine a quarter, and I’m not sure your attention was completely dedicated to my musical analysis.” Riff knew his argument was nothing other than a bluff.
8-Bit turned around, looking back the sign that was now a mere neon blur. He had spent the better part of the evening at the arcade and would still be there now had the manager not politely asked him to “Get the fuck outta here kid! I know you’ll be back tomorrow! The machines ain’t going nowhere!” 8-Bit couldn’t fend off Riff’s argument; after all, he had slipped into a state of nirvana, a period ensconced in tranquility, while gaming.
Levelheaded, he offered his counterpart the benefit of the doubt, “All right, maybe I misheard you. What did you say?”
Riff scrambled. “Well, what I had said was that I’m not sure exactly how I feel about the synthesizers in Somewhere in Time. I mean, the record’s been out for almost a month and I still don’t know just how much I like it. Which is fucked up, because it’s Iron Maiden!”
Friday Brew Review – Boddingtons Pub Ale
I’m an American. I didn’t choose to be one, nor do I hate being one. But since my parents boned on this side of the Atlantic, I’m an American. As such, I’m required to uphold certain traditions. I always watch the Superbowl. I gorge on buffalo wings until I can’t stand. And I perpetuate a friendly rivalry with the British.
Ah, England — our kooky sister country right across the pond. The nation has exported so many wonders that have improved the quality of my little vacation on planet Earth. Iron Maiden hails from England. So does Mr. Bean. And Love Actually takes place in London. So there’s more than enough reason for us to be chums.
OCTOBERFEAST – The Number of the Beast
The OCTOBERFEAST has proven to be a true labor of love. When I created the general outline I had no clue that I would find myself so bitterly conflicted about some of the specific details. Looking towards today’s post, I was at a loss. Perhaps I had originally left my schedule partially incomplete with the faith of later discovering a naturally fitting entry. I couldn’t help but feel my stomach bottom out when I looked at the calendar and saw:
October 8th — Iron Maiden — (Figure out song later).
Fuck.
I find it foolish to argue against the notion that Iron Maiden is the most legendary of active metal bands. With a career spanning over thirty years, one would expect them to be mere shadows of their former selves. Not the case. Unlike Metallica, Iron Maiden can still put on a live performance without butchering the songs or relying on theatrics. And while Maiden’s recent studio albums aren’t their best efforts, they’re hardly the self-parodies of which Megadeth seems so fond. These are old dudes that can still actually lay it down.
With an enormous repertoire — fifteen studio albums — how can I choose one song for Omega-Level’s seasonal celebration? Thematically, the occult is embedded into almost every single piece of Iron Maiden’s catalogue. Therefore, the inclusion of any one track necessarily results in the exclusion of all sorts of songs about demons and pharaohs and warlords (Oh My!). Simply put, the task at hand is daunting.
But I’m no sissy — I’m the Grand Admiral of OCTOBERFEAST! And this means that I’m the guy who has to make the tough decisions. So here we go. Even though almost any track could fit, I think that one of Iron Maiden’s songs works especially well:
The Number of the Beast
Sharing its name with the album on which Bruce Dickinson made his debut. The Number of the Beast is one of Iron Maiden’s most recognizable hymns. Iron Maiden create more of an epic journey in Beast’s five minutes than many bands could manage in twenty. The band delivers a haunting introduction, soaring melodies, Harris’ signature bass lines and the breathtaking vocals for which all of Brazil would scream. Musically, The Number of the Beast is the ideal towards which all rockers strive.
More importantly, The Number of the Beast is a perfect anthem for Hallow’s Eve. Before any music starts, the listener is treated to a ghoulish voice announcing —
Woe to you, Oh Earth and Sea
For the Devil sends the
Beast with wrath, because he knows the time is short…
Let him who hath understanding reckon the number of the Beast for it is a human number —Its number is six hundred and sixty six.
Every time that I hear that, I begin to think that I should forfeit agnosticism and begin worshipping Satan.
Once the song kicks in, Dickinson sings us through hellish landscapes and evil intentions. The chorus (which plays great live as a sing-a-long) screams “666 — The number of the Beast // 666 — the one for you and me!”
You should check out the music video. It is a seriously awesome combination of performance, clips from cheesy horror movies and an appearance by Eddie!
