Posts Tagged parody
Hooked onto Philae (Hooked on a Feeling parody)
Posted by Angela Brett in The Afterlife on November 13, 2014
I wrote this comet landing parody/filk/Philk of ‘Hooked on a Feeling‘ about eight hours ago, and I still like it after sleeping, so here you go:
(If you like the ‘ooga chakas’ of Blue Swede’s version, you can use ‘hook a-chucker’ if you like.)
I can’t stop this Philae
coming down to me.
Earth, you just don’t know yet
what you’ll do to me.
When you touch me
at your landing site
you let Earth know
everything’s all right.
I’m hooked onto Philae.
No, actually, not really.
You’re not harpooned to me.
That’s a sweet as landing*.
Now try it two more times.
Earth folk must be reaching
for another cup o’ wine.
Don’t fall in my coma.
Stay awake for me.
You just keep on sending
your telemetry.
I’ll be your rock
when we’re all alone.
I’m your teacher,
your Rosetta stone.
I’m hooked onto Philae;
No, actually, not really.
You’re not harpooned to me.
I’ll be your rock
when we’re all alone.
I’m your teacher,
your Rosetta stone.
I’m hooked onto Philae;
No, actually, not really.
You’re not harpooned to me.
I’m hooked onto Philae;
well not actually, not really.
You’re not harpooned to me.
I said I’m hooked onto Philae,
but not actually, not really.
It’s not harpooned to me.
If you want to learn more about Philae, I believe the mission control webcast will have a briefing in about three hours. Or you could follow any of the links from the ESA page about it, or from my last post. Really, it’s all over the web; you shouldn’t have any difficulty finding information.
* ‘Sweet as‘ is or other ‘[adjective] as’ expressions are common in New Zealand, meaning ‘[adjective] as anything’ or ‘[adjective] as it could possibly be’. If that doesn’t make sense to you, substitute ‘sweet-ass’ but be sure to put the hyphen in the right place.
Comet Landing (a Rubber Duckie filk by Chella Quint)
Posted by Angela Brett in News on November 13, 2014
Earlier today Chella Quint mused that she’d like someone to write a filk of ‘Rubber Duckie’ about the Philae lander’s arrival on the rubber-ducky-shaped comet, 67P/Churyumov–Gerasimenko:
But soon enough, she wrote her own, and tweeted it in multiple tweets. I wanted it to be preserved somewhere where it could be read more easily than on Twitter, but since she doesn’t have a blog, she said I could blog it instead. So here it is, Comet Landing by Chella Quint (with help from Sarah on the chorus) to the tune of Sesame Street’s ‘Rubber Duckie‘:
#Cometlanding Number 1
Philae lander’s having fun!
Nice one, ESA we’re awfully fond of you
(woh woh, bee doh!)
#Cometlanding joy of joys
Using ESA’s high tech toys
They’re not working but we’ve got some harpoons it’s true
(doo doo doo doooo, doo doo)
CHORUS:
For a decade we
Waited patiently for you
Comet Sixty Seven P Slash C-G We Adore You
(and Churyumov and Gerasimenko)
Rosetta mission you’re so fine
love the selfies you post online
#Cometlanding we’re awfully fond of you
(repeat chorus)
For a decade we
Waited patiently for you
Comet Sixty Seven P Slash C-G We Adore You
(and Churyumov and Gerasimenko)
Philae Lander lots of luck
Touching down on that rubber duck
Hope Agilkia is awfully fond of
you and that the harpoons form a bond cos
#Cometlanding is awfully hard to do
(doo doo, be doo.)
I wrote my own filk about Philae (Philk?) which I will post soon. Meanwhile, you can find out more about Philae and Rosetta at the ESA livestream site, where there will be a press conference at 2p.m. European time, or how about Phil Plait’s post about it. You could also follow the events of the landing through xkcd 1446. which followed the events of the landing. Or just Google Philae; you don’t even have to search for anything, just click on the doodle.
Dinosaurs and Meteors (Arrogant Worms Parody)
Posted by Angela Brett in The Afterlife on November 4, 2014
Yesterday I read an article about quasicrystals in New Scientist (which I am still several issues behind in) in which Paul Steinhardt is quoted as saying:
It turns out with wealthy people there are two subjects they’re interested in: dinosaurs and meteors. We just had to find the meteorite people.
I immediately read the phrase ‘dinosaurs and meteors’ to the tune of ‘Tylenol and Clearasil’ from The Arrogant Worms’ song ‘The Prescription Drugs Song‘, and I put down the article to start writing a parody. This kind of thing happens to me a lot; I’m halfway through writing another parody inspired by a New Scientist headline I read last week.
I had the chorus written in pretty short order, then had to look up the rest of the lyrics to remember how it went. The verses have a lot of pauses for dramatic effect where I expect there to be more unstressed syllables, and it’s all somewhat irregular due to the way the quoted speech is read. Since I didn’t have the song available to listen to at the time, I just added in the syllables in most cases, making the verses sound a bit more like the chorus. Hopefully you understand how it’s meant to be sung, because as usual, I’m probably not going to sing it. Here are the lyrics:
I ended my first quarter, as broke as broke can be.
I wondered if my customers were twice as broke as me.
So I went to a rich man with the stock I hadn’t sold
hoping that he’d pay each worthless trinket’s weight in gold.
He said, “Fellow dirt-poor fellow, the highness of my birth
means I am far above the things that still are made on Earth.”
He pondered for a minute then he said, “I’ll tell you what,
I’ll give you the Earth for these two things I haven’t got.”
He asked for:
Dinosaurs and meteors, not diamond ores or needy orph-
-ans taking police academy course to fight crime dressed as bats,
chromatophores, or Apple stores, extant apex carnivores,
or coffee laced with fungal spores that’s pooped by civet cats.
I ended my second quarter, half-starved and far in debt,
with dust from Hayabusa that I shot a star to get
and amber-cased mosquitos that had dined on dino blood
and went back to the rich man, gave his door a torpid thud.
He said, “Fellow, dirt-poor fellow, this asteroid is dust.
If you can’t provide the meteor right, the rest I cannot trust
I’ll have to grow a dinosaur before you get your pay.”
He had his lawyer shut the door and tell me, “go away!”
I gave him:
Dinosaurs and meteors, not diamond ores or needy orph-
ans taking police academy course to fight crime dressed as bats,
chromatophores, or Apple stores, extant apex carnivores,
or coffee laced with fungal spores that’s pooped by civet cats.
I came back the third quarter, too poor for skin or bone
to ask if he could pay me for the dino he had grown,
but as I sat there chewing the remainder of my shoes
I faintly heard the rich man deliver his bad news.
He said, “Fellow, dirt-poor fellow, oh, I should have known!
My dinos were wiped out by your infernal deep-space stone!
So I have failed in my travail to ‘teach a man to fish’
but worms have turned and I have learned: be careful what I wish
’cause I got:
Dinosaurs and meteors, not diamond ores or needy orph-
ans taking police academy course to fight crime dressed as bats,
chromatophores, or Apple stores, extant apex carnivores,
or coffee laced with fungal spores that’s pooped by civet cats.
Dinosaurs and meteors, not diamond ores or needy orph-
ans taking police academy course to fight crime dressed as bats,
chromatophores, or Apple stores, extant apex carnivores,
or coffee laced with fungal spores that’s pooped by civet cats.”
…and I died and that was that.
∎
Now, you might complain that Hayabusa is an asteroid, not a meteor, but since there’s no way to get a meteor, the rich man should have specified in the first place whether he wanted an asteroid, a meteoroid, or a meteorite. I’m not sure if rich people are particularly interested in chromatophores, but I like the word (and I especially like the rhythm of ‘cephalopod chromatophore‘) so I included it anyway. The other things all seem to be things certain people will pay a lot of money for.
Without planning it, I managed to mention the Arrogant Worms album titles ‘Dirt‘ and ‘Torpid‘ in this song, so I changed the original ‘shooting stone’ to ‘deep-space stone’ in order to mention ‘Space‘. The song this is parodying is on Beige.
On the subject of song parodies, I think I forgot to mention that Glen Raphael recorded a parody of Oasis’s Wonderwall about the van der Waals force, and I contributed some of the lyrics over Twitter.
If you need yet more funny music, James Dempsey has finally released an album of his songs about Cocoa development. I’ve been listening to him since a song he sang at WWDC 2003 was put online. You can see that 2003 Model View Controller song in the background of my music video for A Laptop Like You, at around 2:13, so who knows, perhaps that stealth advertising sent an average of half a viewer his way. Anyway, I saw James Dempsey do another song at WWDC 2004 and asked when he was going to release an album. Last week at NSScotland I even met a conditional Breakpoint (an occasional member of his band) and he said the album was doing really well on the Billboard comedy charts. Anyway, I love the new album and you should listen to if it you’ve ever done software development or if you just like listening to great-sounding funny songs you don’t understand.
Another thing you might want to do if you like geeky comedy is back the Kickstarter for the Full Frontal Nerdity DVD, featuring Helen Arney, Matt Parker and Steve Mould. Oh, and check out my friend Black Pig’s comic, and if you’re in Vienna, come to Open Phil! And I almost forgot, support Arrogant Worm Trevor Strong‘s Patreon. Gosh, there’s really too much cool stuff out there. Don’t worry if there isn’t time and space to do it all.
The Vatican Nag (Tom Lehrer Parody)
Posted by Angela Brett in Holiday Highlights, The Afterlife on October 9, 2014
I visited the Vatican recently, and a friend was kind enough to put this song in my head beforehand:
After arriving early enough to get to the front of the line for Saint Peter’s Basilica fairly quickly, being turned away because of a weapon I’d brought from Geneva (no, not antimatter), coming back unarmed and being let through without waiting in the then-hours-long line because they noticed I had ‘problems’ (I had blisters. Also, I’m not very good at walking), and then being repeatedly offered paid guided tours to skip the line while I was going to the post office and generally chilling out, I decided to write a parody. Here it is; The Vatican Nag:
Half off gods that come in threes!
Twelve for ten on rosaries!
Fourteen euros ninety-nine
to skip the line, skip the line, skip the line!
Buy a stick to take a selfie.
Try a discount saved-from-hell fee.
Whatever your indulgence is,
they’ll upsell the whole Jesus
doing the Vatican Nag.
Get in line for that basilica?
Only clueless pilgrims will, a co-
lossal fee will leave you poor as a m-
onk enjoying guided tourism.
You don’t have to spend the day there.
Save the day and spend your pay there.
Two, four, six… great!
Ninety euros, skip the wait!
Half off gods that come in threes!
Twelve for ten on rosaries!
Fourteen euros ninety-nine
to skip the line, skip the line, skip the line!
Hawkers oft insisting crap’ll
put you off the Sistine Chapel.
Don’t Holy See ’em;
try the Colosseum.
Hide in your attic and
never do that again.
Out of the Vatican Nag!
I used some artistic license here, but a lot of it is true. There were plenty of people selling 12 one-euro rosaries for the price of ten, and the ‘skip the line’ tours were either €15 or €43 depending on the kind of tour. People selling selfie sticks, hats, cellphone chargers, and flat wooden things that magically transform into sets of bowls were all over Rome and the Vatican. I did not see anyone selling indulgences (‘saved-from-hell fees’), however. Also, it wasn’t all that annoying, really. But do see the Colosseum.
I thought about saying ‘then the cost’ll send you Pentecostal’ but I think that’s even worse than the lines I have. I also wanted to use ‘poperies’ in the first line, but since it would be indistinguishable from ‘pot pourris’ if anyone actually sang it, I decided to go with the holy three-for-one deal.
In other news, I’ve been reciting my poems at Open Phil, a great open mic night in Vienna hosted by the Phil half of Crazy for Jane. You can watch some of the performances on the online highlights reels, but to see the whole thing you really have to be there.
Also, Shit Your Inner Voice Says is now on The FuMP Sideshow.
Forms and Formulae: Y Lines About X Letters of the Alphabets (an Abecedarius of Math(s))
Posted by Angela Brett in Forms and Formulae, Uncategorized on June 19, 2014
This is the first in a series called ‘Forms and Formulae‘ in which I write about articles in the Princeton Companion to Mathematics using poetic forms covered by articles in the Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics, even though the Companion already contains plenty of poems. The first entry in the former is entitled ‘What is Mathematics About?’ and the first entry in the latter is abecedarius.
The following is an abecedarius of what mathematics is about — an ABC of mathematics, if you like. You can also try reading it along to ’88 Lines About 44 Women’ (which you might be familiar with from The Brunching Shuttlecocks’ ‘88 Lines About 42 Presidents‘ or the great Luke Ski’s ‘88 Lines About 44 Simpsons‘) though the rhyme scheme is different. It only coincidentally has a similar meter, but once I saw it I decided to go along with it.
Axioms are how you ask ‘what if’; just pick some — you decide.
Break it down and every branch of math(s) depends on these.
Calculus will help you count the branches that you can’t divide,
Differentiating the conditions at the boundaries.
Elements of Euclid was a textbook for millennia.
Functions follow formulae to map domain to range.
Gödel showed some true things can’t be proven, but still many are,
Held without theology as truths that never change.
Inconsistent axioms will prove all and its opposite,
Jeopardising hopes the formal system will be sending forward
Knowledge for deriving knowledge-prime or knowledge-composite.
Logic’s only limits are the ones that something’s tending toward.
Manifold(s) are ways to bring such limits to geometry.
Numerous are non-numeric methods that we use.
Often are two manifolds the same, up to isometry,
Proving that(,) there’s gobs of generality to lose.
Quod Erat Demonstrandum quoth inerrant understander,
Rigorously rational and rooted in the real,
Symbol-shuffling spanning such solution sets with candor,
Theorem after theorem or conjecture from ideal.
Universal sets have mathematicians quite inside themselves;
Vector spaces set a basis they can build upon.
Wolfram’s Weisstein’s MathWorld’s website rivals books on many shelves.
X rules the domain that functions are dependent on.
Y‘s home on the range is the solution set that many seek.
Zeno cuts each line in half so drawing it is undefined.
Alphabet is insufficient;
Beta hurry onto Greek.
Gamma raises complex powers.
Delta changes Zeno’s mind.
Epsilon‘s so small that
Zeta covers the prime landscape sole.
Eta‘s very many things;
Theta‘s varied just by one
Iota in the calculus where
Kappa played a founding role.
Lambda has a calculus.
Mu (micron)’s small, but not-none.
Nu math(s) is Tom Lehrer’s nightmare.
Xi‘s that universal set.
Omicron‘s a small big-O.
Pi squares circles’ radii.
Rho‘s a row (zeros-out) rank.
Sigma sum is all you get.
Tau is sometimes phi, 2pi.
Upsilon, we wonder, ‘Y?’
Phi‘s the golden ratio.
Chi-squared ballpark’s on the ball.
Psi‘s a polygammous one.
Omegahd, there is no end;
Aleph-null can yet extend;
Aleph one is still too small;
Beth one, too, still isn’t all;
Beth-two, one can yet transcend.
Gimel still can bring you some,
Daleth beats continuum.
Now you know your ABC(-Omega-Aleph-NOP)
Out you go to maybe see (oh, mathematicality!)
That math(s) is an infinity (for all things there exists a key!)
And cast it as a trinity (a singular plurality!)
When I decided to do this, I don’t think I realised how many Greek letters there were. In the time it would have taken to finish a normal abecedarius, I was only halfway there, and further motion seemed impossible. Luckily, Zeno was there to sympathise. I also didn’t realise any Hebrew letters after bet were used in mathematics. Apparently Cantor used gimel and daleth for yet bigger infinities. I hope to write a new Forms and Formulae each week, so the later forms had better not be this long. I didn’t always stick to things from the ‘What is Mathematics About’ article, or even that subject. However, I think I conformed to the abecedarius form fairly well; the abecedarius is often used for religious purposes, and I was able to work in that mathematics requires no faith (‘held without theology’) and extends beyond alpha and omega, and also that the differing ways of abbreviating the word in different countries (with or without ‘s’) makes it similar to the three-in-one Christian trinity.
A Song For Angelastic to Sing With Worm Quartet
Posted by Angela Brett in NaPoWriMo, Things To Listen To on May 23, 2014
When you’ve let what is left of your pride go,
let your own song beset the FuMP sideshow! — Brush Up On Parody
Remember that parody I wrote of ‘A Song for Worm Quartet to Sing With TV’s Kyle’? Well, I recorded myself singing it. Sorry! It’s coming up to my birthday, so it’s time for me to embarrass myself publicly again.
You can thank ShoEboX of Worm Quartet for providing probably the only part of this that sounds good (the backing track) and also blame him for encouraging me. When I first emailed to ask about it, he played his part perfectly by not responding, and I recorded said lack of response for use in the song. When I actually met him at MarsCon 2014 and reminded him about it, he kindly and foolishly sent me the backing track. Some blame also falls on DJ Particle for singing (also at MarsCon) a song encouraging people to submit to the FuMP sideshow. This should appear on the sideshow around May 31, and I’m pretty sure it’ll be my best sideshow ever; it has twice the worms of my only other attempt, and one fewer html-parser-destroying character in the title.
I also met TV’s Kyle at MarsCon, and I understand why ShoEboX found his sideburns so compelling. In a world of musicians controlled by sentient beards of dubious alignment, TV’s Kyle is leading the resistance; he will not allow his binate bristly battalions to collude, not by the hair on his chinny chin chin. I forgot to ask him if he consented to [not] appearing in this track, though. Sorry, Kyle!
The lyrics I wrote originally had noticeably fewer nipples than the average Worm Quartet song, so I replaced ‘nebulae’ with ‘nipple gas’. It has similar consonants and constituents, so I don’t think this change affects either the form or function significantly. I also attempted to actually make my voice audible rather than covering it up as much as possible with the backing track, since after all, if people are going to endure my singing, they may as well at least hear what the words are. It’s difficult to record all of those words clearly, and to the right tune, and then overdose on testosterone and expect it to still be comprehensible. Here are the current lyrics: Read the rest of this entry »
Better (Entitled Hipster Version)
Posted by Angela Brett in NaPoWriMo on May 2, 2014
This is a parody of Jonathan Coulton’s song ‘Better‘. You probably haven’t heard of that song, because it’s from before Jonathan quit his day job and got all famous. It’s way better than his new stuff, because it’s about someone who liked their partner before said partner turned into a cyborg and sold out to the robot overlords. Opinions expressed in these lyrics do not reflect those of the author.
What have you done?
I think you know what I’m talking about.
No more homespun;
I’d just bought in and then you just sold out.
I remember the Yale Whiffenpoofs,
Spizzwinks(?) and Pop!Tech and Little Gray Books.
Little short lines I read nothing between.
Nobody loved you like me.
But it’s not me, it’s you.
It’s the star you’ve turned to.
The day job you quit
like no artist would do.
You were my great nerd love
that no-one had heard of,
but I don’t think that I like you better.
No I don’t think that I like you better.
You started out small,
some free tunes and some gigs as an opening band.
Now you must have it all;
you moved on to the sea once you’d soft rocked the land.
Now you tour with a real live Scarface,
big boomy drums and a super star bass,
and the act that you opened for opens your act;
you act like you don’t know your place.
Then you made record-deal ‘art’
and produced it with Flans,
denied us your real heart,
ignored your real fans.
You might be a giant,
but I ain’t no client
and I don’t think that I like you better.
No I don’t think that I like you better.
So that’s how it goes.
Your whole cake is a lie, and you’re eating it too.
Everyone knows.
Why would anyone think I’d be happy for you?
It’s not about you, it’s all about me.
Here is a list of what I want to see.
Don’t please the masses, and don’t plead for cash.
Just be authentic for free.
Now, I’m not against gold mines
’cause I like sluice box muck.
But man, you’re the nugget,
the million bucks.
You used to like monkeys,
but now you’re like Snuggies
and I don’t think that I like you better.
No I don’t think that I like you better.
Just for fun, I’ve included the titles of or otherwise strongly referenced the titles of at least five other songs of his, and one song by his opening band (that he used to open for) Paul and Storm. See if you can find them!
‘Better’ was actually one of the first Jonathan Coulton songs I heard, when I found Our Bodies, Ourselves, Our Cybernetic Arms, and Jonathan was probably about halfway through Thing A Week when I found it. I didn’t find out about the Whiffenpoofs, Spizzwinks(?) or Little Gray Books lectures until some time later. I like his new albums too and I’m glad that he’s successful and therefore has the freedom to do whatever he likes without worrying too much about what will sell. I’m happy that if I mention his name at a geek-adjacent event these days, people are likely to know who I’m talking about. I even sang ‘Better’ at a karaoke event in Vienna recently, and it wasn’t the first JoCo song to be sung there.
Wonder/Fool
Posted by Angela Brett in NaPoWriMo on April 15, 2014
When my friend Hugo read Love/Sick, he said it was wonderful.
I’m not very good at taking compliments, so I responded that I’d write a parody of it called Wonder/Fool. He seemed enthusiastic about the idea:
so here it is.
When you first read my blog,
you thought it sounded really smart.
You said you had good taste, and it was yummy.
It gave a beating to your brain
and matched the beating of your heart.
Is it good?
Or are you just a dummy?
My poems were a gateway
to a state of simple bliss.
You said you read and re-read every line.
You couldn’t think of any work
that measured up to this.
Is it good?
Or is it cognitive decline?
When you read my forceful prose,
you cracked right up and had a fit,
abruptly laughed and cried yourself to pieces.
It had you rolling on the floor;
you may have peed yourself a bit.
Is it good?
Or do you get gelastic seizures?
When you first read this stanza,
you were quite beside yourself.
You found this weird recursion really hoopy,
said it put Hofstadter to shame,
and took his books all of your shelf.
Is it good?
Or are you strangely loopy?
To celebrate my work,
you drove a circus through my home.
You said my zeepding fluvacque was meticulous.
You gave me crowns and laurels
made of chopsticks and pink foam.
Is it good?
Or are you just ridiculous?
My œuvre gave you visions;
you heard a choir of angels sing.
You laughed so hard your aura’s glow became unclear.
Your quantum-astral psychics
said I’d be the next big thing.
Is it good?
Of course! The author’s the only sane one here.
I usually look up the nonsense phrases I invent to make sure they don’t mean anything I don’t want them to. I’m not surprised that people are already peddling quantum-astral things, though I kept that particular combination of quackery buzzwords because both look like words that would go before ‘physics’ rather than ‘psychics’.
What surprised me is that zeepding apparently means something in Dutch, which is commonly associated with snot. My Dutch dictionaries only have zeep (soap) and ding (thing) separately, but I’m going to guess that zeepding is a way of saying ‘bubble’ when referring to snot bubbles. I think I’ll keep that word in there.
In case you’re wondering, strange loops are something Douglas Hofstadter talks about in his book Gödel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid, which I recommend, along with his later books Le Ton beau de Marot and I Am a Strange Loop.
I’m quite happy to have worked the word ‘gelastic‘ into a poem, since it’s where part of the name ‘Angelastic’ came from.
Brush Up on Parody
Posted by Angela Brett in NaPoWriMo on April 8, 2014
This is a parody of Brush Up on Parity by Arthur Roberts, which is in turn a parody of Brush Up Your Shakespeare, by Cole Porter, which I hadn’t heard until yesterday.
A lively part of society
thrives on musical comedy;
they’ll settle for nothing duller than
Python or Gilbert and Sullivan.
But the normals and the posers
don’t know how to hum along;
they’ll be looking down their noses
till they hear a popular song.
Brush up on parody;
fair use is allowed.
Brush up on parody;
bring the funnies to the crowd.
If a brain-damaged bully torments ya,
ease your pain with a dose of Dementia,
and if they overhear while they hit you
they’ll be laughing not at you but wit’ you.
When you’ve let what is left of your pride go,
let your own song beset the FuMP sideshow!
Brush up on parody
and they’ll laugh out loud (in a meeting!)
And they’ll laugh out loud.
Brush up on parody;
fair use is allowed
(but maybe you shouldn’t rely on a compulsory mechanical license if you want to protect your original arrangement from Glee’s plagiarists…)
bring the funnies to the crowd.
If you can’t tell a breve from a quarter,
you can borrow a tune from Cole Porter.
And if nuts try to shame you to stop it,
say they’ll just have to blame Arthur Roberts.
Lambast trends or concoct innuendo
and then send it to Dr. Demento!
Brush up on parody
and they’ll laugh out loud (tune’s miaowed!)
And they’ll laugh out loud (like a lolcat!)
And they’ll laugh out loud.
I wrote a full draft of this yesterday, but I’m glad I kept it around to touch up today. It still has a lot of dubious compromises between rhyme and reason, where I should have taken the time to find consensus. But it’s NaPoWriMo and I’m publishing a poem a day, so polish is scarce. I just noticed that the prompt for today is ‘let’s rewrite a famous poem, giving it our own spin’, so a song parody seems appropriate.
This is something I’ve wanted to write pretty much ever since I first heard Brush Up on Parity, because it’s such an obvious parody title, although I wasn’t sure what the lyrics would say. If I’d been basing this on Brush Up Your Shakespeare instead of Brush Up on Parity, I’d have made this longer and filled the extra stanzas with amusingly-contrived rhymes for the names of parody musicians. It’s not like rhyming Shakespeare plays, though; these are real people and I’d be conscious of which ones I was leaving out.
In case you’re wondering, the FuMP sideshow is a secondary podcast of the Funny Music Project, one which anyone can add a funny song to. Dr. Demento has been hosting a comedy music radio (now internet) show for decades, and if you haven’t heard of him you really need to brush up on parody. I have not actually listened, since his radio show wasn’t available when I grew up, and I haven’t figured out his website yet, but I met him at MarsCon!
The Old Dopamine Peddler
Posted by Angela Brett in NaPoWriMo on April 3, 2014
This is inspired by what Hank Green said about picking the right addiction just after singing about Tetris on JoCo Cruise Crazy 4. Appropriately, it can be sung to the Tetris tune (a.k.a. Korobeiniki, meaning Peddlers) though it is modeled more closely on Kobi LaCroix’s ‘The Peddler: A Half-Assed Translation’ than on any other version.
Open your mind and I know you will find that its system’s designed for times of rest.
You must know there are places you go when the throes of adulthood get you stressed.
Tics of our mental relief, incrementally pouring cement in between life’s bricks.
Kicks you spurn, they protect you from burnout, without them we’d turn out lunatics.
Drugs, TV or Tetris fun.
Learn, create, or get this done.
When willpower fails you, addiction assails you, and sometimes it ails you but there’s a way
to decide which addiction will guide you; when will won’t provide, you have a say.
Low-power moments with something to show for them, that’s how a grown-up can function well.
Something easy that won’t just delete, so it slowly accretes your world’s oyster shell.
Flappy Bird will do you wrong.
Add more words to parody song.
Not films of Fluffy, watch How To Make Stuff, and make making the puff you’re addicted to.
When at rest, read of skills that impressed, and you will find the best are afflicted too.
New bricks are falling; you can’t fit it all in; you may drop the ball into yawning gaps.
Do it too much, you won’t get to do much, but don’t over-rue such a paltry lapse.
Climb this twelve-step staircase to
time that will no longer waste you.
Post a creation of procrastination, you’ll find validation to keep you keen.
Reinforce, don’t forget to be awesome, endorse with the force of dopamine.
(Reinforce, don’t forget to be awesome, of course that’s endorsed by the brothers Green.)
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