Friends

The more the fairyer. Line up to blow me.

I recently achieved my first 1,000 likes on the Facebook page. I enjoyed some minor feelings of accomplishment and success, only to immediately have them overwhelmed with major feelings of disdain and disgust. This is heavy metal elitism. How many of you actually deserve to be here? I know for a fact that there are a solid number of false, open-minded poseurs stinking up that list of people with long hair they only had to grow, and t-shirts they only had to buy. What you shriveled little dicksnots know about true metal I could write on the back of my hand. You listen to Testament, but you know not why. You respect the devil, but you fail to honor him. You headbang and mosh at shows, but only because you think it's fun. I'll have you know that moshing is serious business. If you want to smile, take it to Warped Tour. So how many poseurs do I think are sneaking around in that true metal army of 1,000 strong? I know for a fact that it's at this point at least 999. Where did I come up with such a figure? Simple. Everyone must be a poseur except for me. Or maybe you're not? We'll see about that. The only reason my Facebook page likes have reached such a level, is because I'm making this way too easy for you pusscakes.

It's time to turn up the difficulty level on you grabasses and seriously weed out the wimps. You're no longer allowed to have friends, because you and I both know they are less metal than you or I, and will only encourage false metal behavior.

Several days ago, I was lurking on Facebook, so I could scope out regrettable drunken photographs of some skanky broads that would never talk to me. Then, I notice on the side-panel a notification that it was the birthday of some cross-eyed, weird faced dude I vaguely recall from my college years. He had 21 friends at the time. Yeah, on Facebook. Hahaha! What a douche. I immediately turned that number to 20 hard as I could. For your birthday, I got you more loneliness. Happy birthday.

Don't worry, the animosity will help to make him metal. Or just suicidal...

Once I unfriended his lame ass, I figured I should go through the several hundred people in my Facebook friends and see who was really worth keeping. This chick dyed her hair green. Goodbye. This guy bought "The Sound of Perseverance" remastered. Sayonara, scumbag. Once I started, I couldn't stop. None of these cretins could even hold a candle to my true metal standard. By the time I was finished, I deleted my personal Facebook account, and proceeded to hurl my laptop into traffic. After realizing I needed it to update the blog, I ran back onto the freeway and retrieved it. My LCD screen is now pulverized beyond use, but I don't need it, because I'm just assuming you peons are going to bitch and moan after I'm done writing this per your usual sprinkling of fairy dust. Grow a sack and shut up.


So seriously consider this for a moment. Think about your absolute, very best buds in the whole world. Why do you hang out with them? Is it because they're fun to be around, they're kind, generous, caring and because they will always have your back, through thick and thin, no matter what? Doubtful. They might tell you something to this effect, or their actions may lead you to believe such, but if you really had a tough time when you needed them most, I guarantee your "friends" would bail on you in a heartbeat. This is a dog eat dog world, and it's every man for himself. I got on the horn with my very absolute best pal, Tyranneous and put his true metal kinship to the test:

Brenocide: Hey Ty, I crashed my car because the Accept track I was listening to was too brutal not to. You understand right?
Tyranneous: Yeah, I guess.
Brenocide: Awesome! So I'm going to have to borrow your car for the rest of the summer, maybe year.
Tyranneous: Gee Bren, I don't think...
Brenocide: Fucking Judas. *hang up*


Keep in mind here that Tyranneous has to keep writing for my page. I just know better than to like him anymore.

Perhaps you have good chums that you share not much more than a common love for metal with. Lord knows you can build things far more powerful than friendship based solely on the true heavy metal genre; like HATE. As the purest of elitists in nature, I hate every other metal fan I come across. They just do it all wrong, and pass it off like it's okay. Upon meeting a fellow "metalhead" I proceed to size up his brutality with a quick interview about what he listens to, and who he's seen live recently and enjoyed. Something shitty always always slips in through the cracks, and I'm left to continue my journey searching for the man just as metal as I.

It says on your resume you've attended six Children of Bodom tours yet only saw Slayer once. 
Mind explaining?

Brenocide: So that's what I listen to, how about you?
Twinkle-toed poseur queef: *Wipes the tears from his face after being intimidated by such a true metal playlist* Well um, I um, like listening to, uh Dragonforce...
Brenocide: What's your highest score in Guitar Hero?
TTPQ: Oh! I one time got over...
Brenocide: Just kidding, don't give a shit. Kill yourself.

Upon failing the interview, you are met with the legendary, elite heavy metal technique, passed down for generations, and originating from the Guardians of Asgard, known throughout the lands as the "Crossed Arms of Disapproval". Many a sub-standard opening act has been met with the fabled crossed arms, and if a metalhead does it to you during conversation, it means that you wreak of poseur. To be on the receiving end of a metalhead's crossed arms is the greatest shame this side of the universe. You never want to be there.

Artistic rendition of the "Crossed Arms of Disapproval". 

If however, the guy has nothing but great bands to mention, or gives you some half-assed answer about how he listens to all kinds of metal, don't be afraid to keep pressing him. You'll reveal him as a poseur soon enough. It's merely a matter of time. A great strategy would be to have him name just 10-15 bands off the top of his head, of all different genres. Play it off like you just want some new music to listen to, and "really want his suggestions". You're his "friend", remember? He should be happy to help. Before you know it, he name drops "Dimmu Borgir", and you got the bastard dead to rights.

Although you must never establish a personal connection with one of these wannabes, they do serve their own purpose as potential companions. Think of a group of hot women at a bar or in the mall. Is it just me, or do they always like to bring along their fat, disgusting troll of a "friend"? You and I both know those broads only brought that behemoth along to amplify just how sexy they look in comparison to the she-beast. Similarly, when you as a metalhead allow poseurs to accompany you, it shows everybody how much more truly metal you are than them in comparison. I find it puts a lot of emphasis on how metal you are when everybody around you is not so metal. I do it all the time. (Then again, I don't have much choice.)

The more pals you have, the more you increase your chances that one of them will listen to In Flames.

Despite the concept of keeping people around to prove how much more metal you are, I can't stress enough how superior of an option it is just to stand alone. (You will seize the day...) To prove how much better a time somebody could have without having anyone else to experience it with, I spent an entire day doing things by myself where I would usually have company along with me ruining the experience.

1. Going to the movies. 
Usually when you go to the movies with your guy friends, there's always this sort of awkward situation when it comes to sitting together. Especially when the theater isn't crowded. If you sit one or two chairs away from your friends, they might be insulted, or get the impression you think they smell bad. If you sit right next to them, you're gayer than flip-flops. There's really no winning in this situation. If you're going in the movie by yourself, you can avoid that seating standoff altogether. As an added bonus, you don't have that chuckle headed douche friend with you who won't shut the hell up about how unrealistic the guns sound, how the car shouldn't have exploded from a scientific standpoint, or how there's supposed to be no sound in space. If I wanted to hear how a real gun was supposed to sound, I would buy one and shoot you with it. Needless to say, I was happy to completely hate the movie Thor all by myself.

2. Restaurants
When you eat out by yourself, you earn the pity of your server, which in turn actually means sufficient dining service for a change. He/she continuously checks back to refill your drink, makes sure you're okay, and on some occasions, will actually sit down with you to take your order. They pay special attention to you, because you have nobody there to distract you long enough for the staff to leave you alone to tend to other guests. The only potential drawback here is that if you drink too much, you have to drive yourself home. I call this a potential drawback because I have a hard time calling anyone who can't drive better drunk than sober a "metalhead". Even after all the great service, I can leave without tipping anyway, because I have nobody who can judge me for it.

3. Metal Shows
You might as well be baby-sitting. Like I explained before, you can't surround yourself in this world with anybody but poseurs, and where poseurs fail hardest is at a metal show. They do anything and everything wrong, from bringing their beer into the crowd, to recording the event with their cell phone, to standing on the pit's rim protecting girls. As the only true metal patron, these morons are now your responsibility, and it makes you look like just as much of a jackass spending what should be an amazing night trying to corral these chuckle heads. Finally when the nightmare is over, you're left outside waiting for an hour and a half, because they had the brilliant idea to buy a t-shirt at the ass end of a show. Why put yourself through this shit? Leave the dead weight at home, make the drive out yourself, focus on the live music, the circle pits, and the oblivious babes you get to fondle in the crowd.

Alright, who's the genius that brought Baseball Hats McFalse over here?

I believe that as metalheads there are few of us and we're far in between in the world. Especially over here in the States. We're not a dying breed by any means, but I think because of our existences as outsiders and being the type to go against the grain, we have formed these ham-fisted ideologies about brotherhood and bonding with one another. In our own loneliness and need to make a connection with someone else involved in our greatest passion, we have dropped certain barriers, failed to ask the right questions, and as such accepted the wrong types of people with open arms. Let me put all this into perspective for you: the members of Shadows Fall started out as metal fans. It's true that we need to band together to face a common enemy, but I'm telling you that our greatest foes are within our midst, weakening us from the inside out. They work diligently to blur the lines between true metal and false metal, by being fans of both sides, using their metal musician skills to make false metal bands, wearing false band shirts to true shows and vice versa. 

I implore you, for the good of our genre to trust no one. Especially not me. Your most viable option as a  representative of all things true metal is to be yourself, by yourself, and stay away from me. Now I'm quoting Pantera. Calm yourself, I'm only trying to emphasize just how dangerous of a game this is we're playing here. Keep those arms crossed, that brow furrowed and that face scowled. Never drop your guard, and never allow yourself to be weakened by the less metal influences that refer to themselves as your "friends".

Friends: Still not metal.

True Metal Redemption would lie in erasing your Facebook account, but you very much still possibly need it to receive future updates from the That's Not Metal page. I also have a Twitter. Hearing about how the tards at Taco Bell stiffed me of the avocado sauce on my chicken burrito may better assist you in the fight against all things false metal. If my friends were really my friends, they would have helped me burn that place to the ground. 

Ditch your fake fairy friends and stay metal forever.

- Brenocide \,,/