Video: Phantom-X - 1000 Quatrains

. . .

Sometimes a man, aching under the weight of his daily toils and the failures both greater and smaller of his life, finds a thing. He finds this thing, and finds it most fine indeed. This fine thing alleviates the ennui of his existence; it alleviates the suffering that invariably accompanies dwelling on said ennui and the aforementioned failures, both greater and smaller, of his existence. He says to himself: “I could never find a fine thing more finerer than this. I must share it. I must ascend the most towering electronic cliffs of the Web of the Wide World and shout it on high! I must . . . web-log about it.”

I cannot guarantee that I, Dick, young scion of the families Street and Jammer, am that man, the man who has found a thing most fine.

Nevertheless I shall share a musical video of a performance by a band of men called Phantom-X. They perform a song that is in the style of Heavy Metal. Life, as it is called, is a collection of maybes, mights, and perhapses. Perhaps viewing this video will make you a man or lady who has found a fine thing. Maybe it will make you turgid, and your codpiece thereby uncomfortable. It might make you wish to lie on your back and think of England. Perhaps you will experience jocularity and will chortle or guffaw. We can cast aside maybes, mights, and perhapses concerning this one point: you shall enjoy this Heavy Metal musical video performance.

The musical video is for a composition named “1000 Quatrains.” I shall not deign to educate you, the reader, who is most assuredly a worldly and educated gentleman or lady, about how the video refers to the prophet Nostradamus and the 1000 Quatrains that he wrote.

See W. Enger, he of the six-stringed electrical-guitar, introduces this composition with his electrical-guitar shreddage! Why does the electrical-bass player vanish as if he were a French fleet facing the guns of Lord Nelson? Why does W. Enger fade in, playing in front of the Earth so tiny, while being on what one assumes is a lunar locale?

See the singer sing! He is K. Goocher! I shall refer to him now and forever as The Gooch, as if he and I knew each other in a familiar but not intimate fashion. He is thick in profile but handsome in aspect, and he has a voice like a castrato. The Encyclopedia Metallum tells me that The Gooch sang for a Heavy Metal band called Omen, but not on their good sound recordings. I shall not penalize The Gooch for this. His arm gestures and rock and rolling are so glorious that I cannot penalize him for any past misdeeds.

See the man who portrays Nostradamus! “I am a master thespian!” he thinks. “I channel Nostradamus’ insanity and genius when I gesture as if to clutch at unseen citrus fruits! Step aside, Bradley Pitt! See me now in all my intended glory!” And we do, man in a hood portraying Nostradamus in a Heavy Metal musical video. We do. I know no words sublime enough to describe the sublimity of your performance. Your hand gestures do homage to our web-log in a titular role.

See the drummer striking his high-hat! Why are your high-hat strikes so restrained, drummer unknown? The camera focuses on you! It is your time to shine! Why do you not strike with fury and glory? I would unearth your name in the Encyclopedia Metallum, but your trite drum-strokes have increased the burden of my ennui. You stain this musical video with imperfection, so I will do you no favors, sir!

Do you see why this video is such a fine thing? Why it unburdens me of my ennui, and why I must share it? When I watch it, I am a gentleman filled with the True Spirit of Heavy Metal. I head-bang and wind-mill my locks.

. . .

Post-Scriptum
I suspect that if I should ever set foot in the Great Republic of Texas in order to watch this band of men perform as Phantom-X, I suspect that one or more of the men of the band shall desire to make fisticuffs with me in retribution for this web-log posting. As I am frail in body, meek in demeanor, timid at heart, and limited in constitution, I suspect I shall lose the bout of fisticuffs. Perhaps I will deserve it.

Post-Post-Scriptum
Perhaps though they will forgive me, because one of the readers of this web-log has found a thing most fine.