Ohh boy this is going to be fun. Here is my problem in a nutshell. When I listen to my music, with it's deep introspection, social commentary and philosophical musing I am always blown away that when the lyrics utilise rhetorical questions they really drill down on important matters and make you think. Like Dark Tranquillity's excellent "In the life that hides behind us, what are we, the fuel or the flame?" That drills down on some meaningful shit right there.
And then I turn on the radio. And after five minutes of diluted crap shoved down my earholes I feel my own IQ threatening to slice itself in half at any given moment. Pretty much anytime you hear a question posed by pop lyrics, it is as meaningless as that geometry and fractions bullshit you got taught in school. So what I'm doing here is actually giving the ANSWER to these inquisitive banalities. Because like any sane person, I'm assuming that when a question is answered IT WILL FUCKING STOP BEING ASKED. Then they can take all this crap out of the radio and maybe modern society will then have a chance of not blowing up the world with nuclear weapons just to escape the horror.
THE QUESTION: "Dontcha wish your girlfriend was hot like me?"
THE ANSWER: No actually I would wish my girlfriend had a basic knowledge of the English language far before I wished she was anything like you. In fact, just by using the word 'dontcha' I can see that a relationship with you would likely involve me doing every little fucking thing that requires an IQ above 12. I would be tying your shoes for you. I would be feeding you your mush with a spoon every night after draping you in a bib to protect you from the food slosh that will inevitably result from your brain's poorly developed motor functions malfunctioning. When we went to the movies I would be answering your braindead questions every thirty seconds about the basic plot and roles of the characters. So that rules out me watching The Matrix with you.
You: What's goin' on...? Me not understandee?
Me: Well you see The Matrix represents the boundaries of our societal imprisonment that keep us from questioning the reality behind things. What the makers of the movie are trying to say is that our world is like The Matrix. The laws, rules and codes of conduct are like the Agents, keeping us in blissful ignorance of the truth.
You: Oh look! A squid robot! Coooool!
So to sum up... I don't wish my girlfriend was like you. Because any hotness you may or may not possess is immediately negated by your lack of ability to function beyond the level of a fucking 3 year old. And before you ask, no I don't wish my girlfriend was a freak like you either. I don't want my girlfriend to be so much of a freak that she thinks naming her all girl group The Pussycat Dolls is even slightly a good idea. So let me get this straight... you are marketing yourself as inanimate pussies that people play with and put back on the shelf. Couldn't have said it better myself.
QUESTION: Why do fools fall in love?
THE ANSWER: First I shall look up the dictionary definition of fool. 'Someone possessing extremely low intelligence and social acumen'. Okay. Well, fools fall in love because they likely mistake the dog licking their faces for a romantic relationship. Either that, or you think the nurse who straps you ever so snugly into your straight jacket in your padded room is coming on to you. You probably also thinks those round red things she makes you swallow are love tablets. Really now, the answer to this one is fairly self explanatory, why were you asking again??
QUESTION: Where is the love?
THE ANSWER: Wait what? Where is 'the love'? Well scientific and spiritual opinion on this matter has differed over time. The societal convention is to say that 'the love' can be found in the heart. Hence the terms "showing some heart" and the traditional heart symbol on Valentine's Day cards. Practitioners of meditation and Eastern spiritual traditions would agree with this location, due to the heart being the body's greatest bio electrical generator of the body, rippling it's energy field further than any of the other chakra locations. Materialistic scientists would answer that 'the love' is located in the brain, amidst neurons firing and chemicals being released into synapses. Western religious traditions would maintain that the location of love is in the soul, which is drawn from a being of pure love, God, Jesus Christ or the Prophet Mohammed. Perhaps we should also mention the schizophrenic people who believe that the love can be found on the satellites beaming signals into their head from the CIA. So there you have it. The love is either in the head, in the heart, in the soul, or at CIA headquarters.
QUESTION: Why you sleepin' with your eyes closed?
THE ANSWER: Oh fuck me. Are you fucking serious? Let me guess, you are the type of person who goes to NFL games in the States dressed up as fucking Iron Man or some shit. So that everyone watching will say "Hey look at that fuckwit! He spent time making an Iron Man costume when he could have been contributing to the economy. What a parasite on society! Maybe we should forget about the Mexicans in Arizona and deport this slack jawed piece of excrement!". Honestly there is only one explanation for a person observing someone sleeping and then having to ask "Gee, why is this person sleeping with their eyes closed?". It involves six generations of incest. Just to humor you Mr Jimbo Bob McGee I'll answer your question. Because it's physiologically rather difficult to sleep with constant visual stimulation pounding your wide open eyeballs. Now fuck off.
QUESTION: What you gonna do with all that junk in your trunk?
THE ANSWER: Well probably I'm going to either take it to the rubbish collection facility or store it under my house to wait for the next inorganic rubbish collection. I mean that just seems like the smart thing to do. I mean sure, I could try and make use of it I suppose, but the fact that you have labelled it 'junk' sort of infers its uselessness in terms of practical application in my life. So yeah, I'm sticking with taking it to the rubbish tip. My question in response is why in the music video when you're asking this question is there a whole heap of gyrating scantily clad women? Wouldn't it be more apropos to show a vision of some scrap metal in the back of your car?
Well, there you have it. Now if I ever hear these questions again, I'm going to think about reporting you to the government. Because there's got to be a law against asking the same redundant questions ad fucking nauseum.