All the Rage #9

Hate is a strong word--and a powerful emotion. People are often reluctant to use it in describing their emotions; "I wouldn't say 'hate,' exactly," they'll claim, and then substitute any other word, from "disgust" to "dislike" or "strongly dislike." Hate crimes are a punishable offense, hate mail is considered to be harassment, and hate sites on the web receive thousands of angry e-mails on a regular basis. It's not easy or popular to hate anything.

But you know what? I HATE Hootie and the Blowfish.

No other word will work. It's strong enough, it's intense enough, and it's exactly what I feel. When I think of Hootie and hear their songs and see them on talk shows being all frat-boy and jock-asshole, I hate them. Wasted emotion? Perhaps. But it's absolutely what I mean. It's the only word worthy to describe my feelings toward Hootie.

Perhaps you're sitting there at your computer, lounging in your underwear with a half-full 40-ounce of Pabst Blue Ribbon, asking yourself, "Why does this boy hate Hootie so much? What did they ever do to him?" Sir or madam, that's an excellent question, and one that I'll try to answer shortly as best as I can.

No, that's not true. I can answer it right now. Their music sucks. It's boring and repetitive and has so little worth that it saps my very soul each time I hear it. They're pricks for making shitty music and selling it to the public, and anyone who buys Hootie is a little bit of a prick for falling into their trap. It's really fairly simple. I could make it complex and cite specific instances left and right of recorded moments where Hootie have made vulgar music. I could copy their lyrics from eager fan sites and demolish them with my dull critical mind. But all you really need to know is that I think they suck. To elaborate would be a waste of my time and yours.

When did my obsession with the utter destruction of all things Hootie begin? Harken back to 1994 and 1995. Hootie songs dominated the airwaves and blared constantly from dorm room stereos around the globe. I was a mere youngster, beginning my career at Northwesten University and searching desperately for my place in the world. I had a weekly column in the Northwestern Chronicle, musing about entertainment and life and the state of things in general, in a broad sense. One week, desperate for a column idea, I decided to articulate the feelings of deep disgust (yeah, it's not just hate, sometimes it's disgust too-deal with it) I had harbored for months regarding Hootie and the Blowfish. I also tossed occasional nasty Hootie comments into a series of Top Ten lists I wrote for the back page of the Chronicle, and wrote a later follow-up column in early 1995.

It's hard to explain just what kind of response these missives created amongst the Northwestern community. Perhaps "utter disinterest" describes it best. Actually, that's not quite right. A secret "admirer" (whom I suspect is my good friend Mandy Koppen, since it looked very much like her handwriting) sent me Hootie pictures and press clippings on a regular basis, often adding cute word bubbles on the photos like "Why do you hate us?" It was a musing to say the least. And occasionally a companion in Hootie hatred would compliment me on my anti-Hootie work. But otherwise, no one cared.

The hatred still seared deep within me, however. It never died. And I vowed to someday return to my crusade to eliminate the stench of Hootie and the Blowfish from the world I live in, perhaps banishing them to some parallel dimension where making shitty pop music is an offense punishable by slow, painful death. Now I co-edit a website, and have a virtual soapbox on which to stand anytime I wish to spout off pretty much whatever garbage pops into my brain. How could I pass up this chance to continue my anti-Hootie crusade, to maybe even team up with fellow Hootie haters and form powerful coalitions that might actually stand a chance of harming the band in some way?

The truth is, I couldn't pass up the chance. Who could? So enjoy this month's special anti-Hootie coverage-there's plenty more vitriol and spite where this came from. And if you like Hootie and hate what we're doing, PLEASE send us some mail. It'll make us laugh until we cry. But don't let us cry-that's a shitty song title, and we would never want that to happen to us.