In the late 90’s, one of the greatest fails in humanity’s eternal history occurred, and yet the world did not stop. For me however, it certainly has never been the same. It happened the year before I dropped out of the public education system in order to actually learn about life, and hindsight being twenty twenty and all; it has recently dawned on me that perhaps this horrible event aided me in making the aforementioned decision. You see, the artist formally known as P. Diddy (formally known as Puff Daddy, then Puffy Combs, hitherto Sean Puffy Combs, currently Sean Snap Crackle Pop Puff Combs…least that’s what I hear on the streets) had raped one of my childhood lullaby’s; “Every Breath You Take” by the Police.
That’s right, it was during a time when the obviousity that gangsta rap had been completely hijacked by major corporations and turned into canned ham when the last hope for artists (term used lightly) such as Peach Puff Combs was to simply begin stealing. Now I am sure that Sting gave him permission to use the music from “Every Breath You Take” and made off with a nice stack of feddies. However this is not the point; you see when art is released it then belongs to the people and no one asked us if it would be okay for Puffy Tarts to rip a song from our hearts and mangle it to death beneath a mountain of bling. Now none of us will ever be able to listen through that 80’s classic without being forced to have the attached memory of its flaming demise in the 90’s. Thanks Puff master flash. There was however a silver lining in this puffy cloud of Combs, and it was that at least I could pretend that Sting and the police were in some high rise hotel, sipping whatever Sting and the Police sip, and cursing at the television every time the rip off “I’ll be Missing You” played on the ole MTV…over and over again. Until finally they decided that the best thing for a channel called Music Television to not ever air was music. Too little too late though, because in 1997 my safe haven of memories was obliterated when I witnessed Puff in an Elevator perform his massacre of a remake on stage with none other than…choke…gasp…flippin’ Sting. I felt betrayed. I felt like somehow or another Sting was giving the crap remake a nod of approval and that’s …just…not…right. Now I could close my eyes and where once I’d imagined Sting pissed on pictures of Sean Valdez’s face; now all I could see was Sting pissing on mine. Granted, it was all in memory of a bunch of people who died that year but no one is doing a remake tribute video for my dead memory of “Every Breath You Take”.
What made this even worse for me was that all of my peers thought it was absolutely brilliant and many reading this now are saying “I thought it was a good remake”, though probably with a mumble. That’s what disheartened me to drop out of high school I think; that I had finally seen that those around me were so detached from intelligence, taste, and affection for what music is that they were irretrievably lost from ever developing any type of individuation on their own. If that’s what this institution was doing to our minds, one thing became concrete and it was that I was kicking up gravel the moment my signature was worth a damn. Seriously; I took the remake thing pretty hard. It was like gloom in a bottle. Have you ever been there? Have you ever been the only one to be utterly disgusted when seemingly everyone around you seems to be caught in a whirlwind of douchebaggery unheard of since time began? Well if the Sting bow out didn’t do it for you, I’m sure today you certainly got a hint of it with the reelection of John Boehner as speaker of the house. Even though it was kind of a foregone conclusion, still tastes like a penny in your mouth doesn’t it?
John Boehner is tyrannical, whining snot. I had my suspicions about him before the teleprompter vote in Florida simply because he is a republican. Republicans are a lot like democrats except…never mind. So with the seemingly fatal kamikaze over the fiscal cliff by handing all those saps that actually believed this guy was a conservative, what happens? He’s reelected as speaker. Watching Nancy Pelosi hand him the gavel today made me hope and pray that a stitch behind her ear would snap like a slingshot and cause some sort of mouse trap like incident ending with said gavel in places most unspeakable of the good speaker. He shamefully has bullied Liberty candidates in the aftermath of the election, poorly represented the ideals of his “conservative” base, disgustingly rammed rule changes down our throats and of course the latest steaming pile of excrement to come rolling down the hill; higher taxes. True to form they of course did their shiftery under the cloak of a holiday most are still hung over from, and teary eyed Boehner came to the party with Vaseline and rubber gloves. Did you hear them snap onto his fiscal fist? Yeah, it’s all for you baby.
Of course what makes it all so “I’ll Be Missing You” horrid is that after buckling from an already compromised plan, and serving up something the cats from Jekyll Island would be proud of, our noble “representatives” put those baby, blue, vulture eyes right back in power to eat out more of our substance in the coming years. Let this be a lesson to anyone still under the illusion of a two party system that until you personally engage in your local politics, these types of impotents are going to keep bubbling up to the surface; only to pop and fester at the top.
Though the feeling I had in my gut back in 1997 is very akin to the one I have now, I at least can speculate as to why P. Dittles would want to change his name; because I know Johnny boy did it to hide his true identity. Tootles.