Monday, June 24, 2002
UPDATED BY: Derek "DarkDroid" Palango

Wolfgang-bang!

Let's face it, when you're talking to someone and you say the name "Wolfgang", invariably the other person's response is "really? where?" And after a short ass-kicking you clarify that you were talking about the notorious Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, the man who made that name "Wolfgang" famous, and also a man who happens to be dead. My point here doesn't lie with my opinion that soft-toed boots classify as pampered punishment, my point rather is that this Mozart guy set the bar pretty damn high for all the poor yahoos out there who are named after him. As if any carbon-copy could measure up to the original. Gimme a break! I've seen the movie "Multiplcity" enough times to know what I'm walking about.

On the left is allegedly our hero, Wolfgang Mozart, famous for his musical compositions. The man on the right is also named Wolfgang, allegedly. Among many things he COULD be famous for shoving tubes of toothpaste up little boys' behinds. Does he measure up to the Wolfgang name? We may never know...

I'm not entirely sure what in God's fair name this is, but I can safely assume it is some sort of Wolfgang-related orgy in the making.

Actually it's my belief that when parents decide to name their kids after famous or "publicly successful" people as I prefer to call them, it ends up twisting the kid into becoming some kind of loser, like the anti-publicly successful person. I gotta laugh when I think of that, because it's so ironic.

This guy's name is Wolfgang. Apparently he's some kind of doctor, but I suspect he turned to that profession after the people making "Attack of the Cones" rejected him because his head was just too damn tall, even for them, allegedly.

People do not like having their lives laid out for them, and giving them names when they're born like "Donnie Osmond", "Hitler" or "Jesus Christ" will only make them feel pressured later on in life to pick up where these long-gone publicly successful people left off. And that's just not fair.

Now remember, we're talking about Wolfgang, not a gang or "pack" of wolves (left), and certainly not a wolf back-pack (right).

Like for instance, if a child was born in the Matrix with the name Pablo Picasso, I think he would eventually go mad with frustration and break into the art-place or whatever it's called and erase Picasso's name from all his works and then write in his own, then commit suicide. I've never doubted this theory for a second, kids.

This cat's name is Wolfgang, allegedly. That should make a whole bunch of Wolfgangs out there feel better about themselves. Why don't you all go find the Silvesters of the world and have a good healthy cry on one another's shoulders?

Seriously though, it isn't fun living in someone else's shadow, especially if that someone is extremely fat and sweaty and right behind you every step of the way, just to make sure you don't screw up and also to make sure you get your daily dose of disgusting. Let's all take a moment and think of the Wolfgangs, not the Melancholy gangs, and give them our best wishes for a better day that will probably never come to them. Keep reaching for that rainbow guys!