Actually, it IS Rocket Science



Next up: Burton vs. Herbert’s sandworms

I’ve had to sit on this for long enough so mostly everyone could have a chance to not only hear the song, but to be so dick-slapped with it by television and other media that they no longer sit in wonderment at how good the song actually is.  That’s what we do to each other: we take decent material and murder the decency from it by overplaying and finally outplaying it for even Henry David Thoreau upon his return from modern world hiatus to ask someone to kindly shut-it-the-fuck-off.  I watched Saturday Night Live recently and heard Cee-Lo’s “Fuck You” THREE times in an hour and a half.  The song itself?  Flipping brilliant.  But I have to admit that after hearing it that much in that short of amount of time that even I’m exhausted.

Here’s the thing, though.  I think we get to a point where art no longer imitates life, or vice versa.  After a while art just starts to imitate art and life need not apply.  Case in point:

Pretty picture from the video of the song in question (Florence and The Machine’s “Dog Days are (SO) Over (playing poker in all your velvet paintings)”  (ed. note:  here’s a link to the video if you were recently struck with a blunt object and are undergoing soap-opera-inspired amnesia )

And its predecessor.  Notice any similarities?

Now, granted, she’s cut in two, but being a girl who grew up with a somewhat unhealthy interest in Tim Burton and the morbid curiosity of dark humor, this was the first place my mind went to while watching Flo dance around her bee-hived, blue-skinned, sparkle-dressed dancers.  And I’ll be damned if someone doesn’t give the dude cred.

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