Even God Thinks Christian Music Sucks Nuts

"Dozens injured as floor collapses at Christian rock concert in Abbotsford" announced the front page of the Province website yesterday morning. Evidently, Friday night during a concert by "multiple Covenant Award(!?) winning Christian music group," Starfield, the floor gave way, sending about 70 people into the church basement and just a few feet closer to hell.

Although no one was killed, several of the tone-deaf, pasty-faced, virgins were rushed to hospital, tearily looking skywards and asking, "why, God, why?"

Well, the answer is pretty obvious. Clearly, even God thinks that Christian rock music is super lame. I've had a listen to some Starfield tracks, courtesy of their mascara and mullet-heavy website and I'd like to think, if there was a God, that in all his infinite wisdom he'd have way better taste than creepy lyrics such as "Precious lamb, our freedom's in your blood." What is it with Christians and infantile farm-animal metaphors anyway?

Sheep jokes aside, I can easily picture God on the night of the concert hanging out with some of his deity buddies, holding his hands over his ears and wincing in disgust: "Hey, Buddha, Krishna, come over here, check out this wrath! I am gonna smite these geeks something fierce. Zeppelin rules!!!"

One of the most interesting aspects of the Province's 'story' was the fact that a good 30% of the text was cut and paste from frantic posts on Starfield's Facebook page. It seems as if writing for the this bastion of hard-hitting news requires little more than the ability to right-click on social networking websites. This blatant affront to journalism would disappoint me if I wasn't already under the impression that there isn't a single person working at the Province with an I.Q. above 90.

The prevailing sentiment amongst the semi-literate faithful posters was that God was somehow inclined to watch over the victims and that the Province readership should "pray for them all."

Seriously? Are these people so truly and mindlessly deluded by their unsubstantiated faith that they fail to see the delicious irony in this 'tragedy'? Operating under the presupposition that God is omnipotent and therefore controls everything, he's the sonofabitch that brought the roof down to begin with. I think it would be, to say the least, pretty statistically unlikely that he'd be remotely interested in the welfare of casualties, much less be receptive to blubbering pleas for his mercy. Does the fact that this happened in a structure dedicated to his worship not even remotely illuminate the blatant truth...that there is no God, but if there was, he apparently prefers the Chili Peppers?

So there you have it...God favours those with taste and is not above taking out his anger at your shitty musical preferences by collapsing a church on your head. Additionally, as I may never get the opportunity again I'd like to point out that, if the name of your band even remotely conjures up comparisons to a laconic, lasagna-loving, comic strip tabby, you should probably think about changing your band name to something a little less gay. Like the Ball-Licking Fancy Pants.

The Endless Cup Spilleth Over

"The customer is usually a moron and an asshole." - Larry David

I was waiting in line at Starbucks the other day and I couldn’t help but overhear some hapless loser asking for an entirely free cup of coffee. The cordial barista immediately honoured the request without so much as a cock-eyed, incredulous glance, indicating to me that this sort of encounter was rather routine.

“This must be quite a special person,” I thought to myself, “for what possible reason could this clerk have to defy the very mission statement of any business, that being to turn a profit from the sale of one’s goods or services, by handing out free java to this chick?”

Well it seems that, to put it in her own words, she had “just bought the coffee but dropped it outside.” Could it be that the fact that the purchase was very recent provided her with the latitude to carelessly mishandle her beverage and drop it on the ground, resulting in the evacuation of the entire venti or grande or whatever-the-fuck oversized goblet of coffee it was and somehow feel entitled to a free refill?

Perhaps it was the fact that her spillage had taken place within shouting distance of the front door where she had bought the coffee that rendered her request something other than preposterous. Could it be true that all notions of accountability and taking responsibility for one’s own actions are forfeit when it comes to clumsily mishandling foodstuff?

I attempted to answer these questions a few days later by entering the Starbucks, buying a medium coffee and returning five minutes later, sans beverage, with my tail between my legs. The following exchange took place;

RYAN: Hi, I need to buy another coffee, I, uhhh, I just dropped mine outside (I had, in fact, given the coffee to my girlfriend who was not aware of my duplicitous motives).

CLERK 1: Oh, my God, that totally sucks. You don’t have to pay for that, you can just have another one.

RYAN: Really? But, I mean, I fully expect to pay for it. I accept responsibility for my actions, especially in regards to items that I own. We completed our transaction and I assumed ownership of that coffee so I’ll just buy a new one.

CLERK 1: (Blank stare, accompanied by hints of drool)

CLERK 2 (Overhearing our conversation): That is totally the worst. That happened to me, like, three days ago. Isn’t that such a horrible feeling? You can just have a new one.

RYAN: Wow, that’s very generous of you. I’m just curious, though, how far away from the door would I have to have been in order for you not to give me a free coffee?

CLERK 1: So…do you not want me to give you a free coffee?

RYAN: Oh, no, I want it, I guess I’m just curious about the policy regarding these things.

CLERK 2: …so, was that a latte, cappuccino, what?

RYAN: Just a coffee, thanks. Thanks very much.

Astounding!! Why is it that butterfingered retards in our society are rewarded with replacements for food items that they initially treated with such apathetic disregard? This is an incredible phenomenon that I suspect exists entirely within North American food services culture, for I have witnessed the same sort interaction at McDonalds, Arby’s and even lower middle-end ‘restaurants’ such as White Spot and Denny’s.

When I raised the experience with some friends of mine who work in an upscale, Yaletown restaurant they provided me with the expected argument; that the price of the individual coffee, crab cake or Louisiana chicken club was insignificant next to the projected future value of the sloppy-but-satisfied customer. Maybe so but I’m not convinced that, as a restaurant owner, my target clientele would be bungling lummoxes who felt they were owed a living. Optimally, such people would either learn from their mistakes or starve to death in a ditch. Rewarding them won’t allow either of these scenarios to play out as nature intended.

This same group of friends pretty much unanimously agreed that, although they’d feel like idiots if they themselves were unwittingly defeated by those sneaky forces of gravity, they would each likely request a freebie. Their arguments tended to fall along the lines of: “Well, I don’t think I’d feel I was owed but, hey, if the offer was there, I’d be pretty stupid not to take them up on it.” True, but I happen to feel they’d be pretty stupid to give it to you.

At any rate, I couldn’t help but begin to reflect upon the extent to which one could one abuse this munificent policy. Are these immediate replacements limited to food & drink? Perhaps I could wander out of a Pier 1 with an $80 box of really ugly dinnerwear, drop-kick it through the parking lot and return, droopy-eyed to the cashier for a shelaccy-new substitute. There probably wouldn’t be anything stopping me from ‘accidentally’ fumbling my newly-purchased 42-inch Sony plasma screen down the escalator at Future Shop and humbly sidling up to customer service for a comp.

As much as I want to delve further into this consumer curiosity, the fear that one day I’ll actually be stuck with the tab for replacement cost concomitant with my current lack of employment is going to prevent me from doing so. However, I implore each and every one of you to put the idiot's insurance policy to the test. Don't stop at coffee, though...why not mosey on over to your local Cadillac dealership, buy yourself a new XLR and plow it through the dealership lobby? In all likelihood, instead of receiving the social derision and financial punishment you'd deserve, you'll be handed a new set of keys and a sympathetic smile.