Poetry month here at Little Mathletics, apparently, but I’m not one to complain, especially if the work is that of our good friend Jack Cambrian, who blew our minds last time with some wicked rhyming verse about pens, bugs and arachnids.
Now he’s back, and he’s busting out some haikus. “I finally got a decent job,” says Jack. “But I still find time to bitch about it - in haiku form!”
And thank god for that. While we here at Little Mathletics have nothing against those who produce thoughful and interesting electronic music, the fact that any retard with a copy of Fruity Loops or Reason can have their club hit played all over commercial radio’s filthy airwaves bugs us, and makes us cry tears of mourning for the music industry.
Ahem.
Without further ado, then, here’s Jack. Feel his wrath, techno hacks!
Haiku Lamentations of a Techno Record Store Employee
The techno beat starts,
Electro cacophany,
Oh, for a key change.
Fleetwood Mac remixed,
They know not what they’re doing,
What would Stevie say?
There’s something amiss,
The melody; the sample?
Clearly the wrong key.
Christ I hate Tiga,
Queerbait electro fucktard,
Christ I hate Tiga