Fuck U2

Seriously.

Fuck these guys:

Fuck them. Fuck them for all time.

Do you like U2? You do? Oh good. See this? Thats my middle finger. In your face. In your girlfriend's face.

Today, I actually listened to the entirety of their "new" album No Line On the Horizon, and I can say with a high degree of certainty that it was one of the poorest decisions I've made in my nearly twenty years upon this green earth. To sum it up, as my good friend Robert says often, "This is some bullshit, John. Some bullshit". I can't actually believe people like U2. I feel it is all some huge international joke that I failed to get the email about because I transferred schools and the asses deleted my school account off their server. Asses. I look at you, registrar lady. You are an ass. May your children one day feel the whip of the slavedriver.

But back to the task at hand. I will deal with her rebel scum ass later. As I was listening to No Line On the WHOREizon my mind kept wandering to other things, such as how I should spend the remaining $15.34 in my wallet, or which one of my friends had the most advantageous qualities for surviving a zombie apocalypse with me. Then all of a sudden the album was over...and I was all like, "holy shit, I just listened to a fucking hour of nothing". I swear to you, I did not hear anything through my headphones. If I really think hard, I think I remember hearing like one or two words from the single off the album, "Get On Your Boots", but now that I say that, my brain is just probably making that up. The point is, there is no music on this album. Which brings me too my next point nicely:

When can we say that, officially, no one gives two fucks what U2 does?

One way ticket to Rapetown, please. No, there will be no luggage.

I would like to declare that moment upon us.

U2 has been around since 1976. Nine. Teen. Fucking. Seventy. Six. You know what that means? That means it's time to stop. Put on the brakes. Quit. Die. Old-folks homes. Animal shelters. Mall walking.

The problem really lies in their (Bono's) desperate attempts to stay relevant. Despite the fact that they (Bono) could package cowshit in a CD case and it would sell like hotcakes, they (Bono) have sought, from the Joshua Tree onwards, to be loved for their (Bono's) music rather than the monolith of stardom that effectively serves as a life-support machine for their (Bono's) career. And thus, they (Bono) realize they (Bono) have to put out something that can at least pass as musical progression. But lackaday fair reader, they (Bono) have finally failed.

2004's awfully titled (tittied?) How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb got a free pass because it spawned a number one, the lyrically obtuse "Vertigo". And by lyrically obtuse I mean Bono didn't count right in Spanish. Or sing about anything in particular. But man, did he sound like he meant it. Anyways, Nobody except assholes actually listened to the rest of it. Itunes used the shit out of "Vertigo" to promote their new ipod campaign, so people felt like U2 was relevant. I mean, product placement is key to success, right?

Right before he wallowed in a pit full of money.

But on No Line On the Horizon, there is no single to save it, no new reinvention that makes it worth a spin on the old computer. Fuck, the cover is a fucking LINE ON A HORIZON.

God, would I have loved to be in that meeting:
Bono: So what is the artwork?
Artist: Uh...A line on a horizon?
Bono: Fuck me and call me Sally, its perfect. Subtle, yet bold.
The Edge: My asshole hurts.
Artist: God damn my life.
Bono: AFRICAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The Edge: My asshole hurts.
Larry Mullen: Wait, am I still in the band?
(silence)
Larry Mullen: Okay, I'll just assume yes.
The Edge: My asshole hurts.

And Rolling Stone gave this shit 4 and a half stars and called it a modern masterpiece. That is precisely the moment I stopped reading Rolling Stone forever. You may be saying, no shit, why didn't you stop reading it earlier, and in answer to that, I confess I am a whore for interviews. A skeezy whore. But everything is changed now. No more will I give a damn what U2 does. They are more dead than Weezer.

You know what?

U2 = Moby Dick.

Both are overrated and full of gay themes.

In conclusion I would like to leave you with this:

What did you expect, really?

Should I do Bob Dylan tomorrow?