Why is it glorious, you may ask? Because I have stumbled upon irrefutable proof that the last days are indeed upon us. That's correct boys and girls. All the maniacs screaming in the wind with their cardboard signs have had it right this whole time.
Now that I have you appropriately sitting on the edge of your seat, gnawing your fingernails down to the point of drawing blood, allow me to present to you the harbinger of the Revelations of Paul, the trumpeter of the inexorable approach of the fel beast of the underworld: Hatsune Miku
Alright, now I know I'm a little behind the pack on this one. Hatsune Miku apparently has been doing live performances like the one showcased above since the summer of 2009. I wasn't even aware that technology of this magnitude existed, let alone was selling out concerts in Japan. I don't even want to think about how much people were paying to get into the doors at these gross displays of pop-icon worship.
It's a fucking computer program! God damnit, not even the voice is real! Who the fuck are these people that are funding these godless endeavors?? Now don't get me wrong, the technology is badass. As I discussed with a friend of mine, the day they start using this to have Satan appear as a hologram on stage at a Primus show, then you bet your ass I'll be hugging the rail with my jaw on the ground. But designing an entire concert tour around a fake, computerized voice with a fake, computerized holographic diva is just not art. You know, I seem to remember a time when people got real pissed at Millie Vanillie for lip-synching. Could someone please explain to me how this is different, let alone better?
Any hope that I ever had that the popular music charts would one day come to be dominated again by artists with actual talent have been utterly dashed. I quit. Throwing in the towel. After work I'm cutting my hair, shaving off my beard, and buying a Justin Bieber CD and a Hatsune Miku coffee mug.
Alas, poor [integrity of the recording industry]! I knew him, Horatio, a fellow of infinite
jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath bore me on his back a
thousand times, and now how abhorr'd in my imagination it is!
My gorge rises at it.
Take arms against this sea of troubles you lazy bastards. Stand in defiant opposition of this crass garbage that is seeping into our homes through every crack in our armor of dignity, and by opposing, END THEM.