I had a vision this morning.
I envisioned an alternate universe not unlike our own, where certain events that have unfolded during human history took a different turn of events. In it, Mark David Chapman did not shoot John Lennon, he tripped at the last second and unloaded his .38 into Yoko Ono instead. Stevie Ray Vaughn never got on that Helicopter, he took a bus, and Jon Bonjovi got on the helicopter instead. On and on throughout history, tragic mishaps that happened in our universe, did not in this one, and TRULY GREAT music flourished and great minds from the past who passed on before their times went on to enlighten untold generations more.
But there were two constants in this Universe from our own, two singular entities who's existence threatens art and higher thought for generations to come in this perfect world. I think you know who these people are without my having to mention them.
I saw an older, heavy set man, drinking his coffee on a Sunday morning, and picking up a phone to call a friend. The voice on the other end of the phone spoke quietly....
"Speaking, who is this?"
"Bill, this is your friend Sam, how the f*ck are doing?"
"Lovely, Sam. How are Malika and the kids doing?"
"They're doing all right. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about, are you reading the morning paper?"
"No, I haven't gotten it yet... is there something I should look for?"
"Perhaps. There's something on the front page that's REALLY bugging the sh*t out me, man, and we need to do something about it."
"Do you want to just go ahead and TELL me or are you going to make me wait for it?"
"God you're crotchety in the morning. But I'll go ahead and tell you, the headline reads 'Bieber and Black sell out Shea Stadium in 5 minutes.'"
"... do WHAT?!"
"We need to do something, Bill. This sh*t cannot go on for any longer. Do you have Ted's phone number handy?"
The conversation goes from there, as two middle aged men begin to form a plot. And they contact a third, but he refuses to participate in their plan, so they go it alone.
My vision went on from there, as the two men, dressed in black leather and trench coats straight out of Matrix STORM the gates at Shea Stadium, exchanging automatic gunfire with security guards as they make they're way to the back-stage area. There, they find the stars of the show, eating the souls of a couple of sacrificial concert goers, and our heroes UNLOAD a hailstorm of lead into their carcasses, dousing their remains with holy water and rock salt to finish them off.
The papers the next day read....
"The War on Good Music is OVER; Kinison and Hicks eliminate Bieber and Black. Ted Nugent unavailable for comment"