Saturday, December 25th 2010
News: Nirvana
Smells Like Christmas Spirit
This story doesn’t have damn well anything at all to do with Christmas, and is thusly burdened with a completely irrelevant title that will only get more irrelevant. But I wanted to post it today, on Christmas, because it’s the kind of story you save for a special occasion.
It’s also the kind of story that’s funnier when you’re drunk on egg nog.
It’s the story of how Nirvana’s Smells Like Teen Spirit got its title, as told by Kathleen Hanna.
There are some parts that aren’t exactly safe for work, but if you’re at work today, I’d personally like to do anything I can to help you lose your job. Regardless, I have love in my heart for all of you fucking weirdos, for finding us, supporting us, saying nice things when we get it right, and for speaking up relatively respectfully when you disagree. Here’s to the future. Just remember, no matter how we die, it was murder.
Happy holidays.
Psst. It’s a re-gift. Sorry, Our Hit Parade.
Classic. Thank you for posting this.
“God is gay”
oh I wish I could drink Canadian Club with Kurt Cobain…
Even though I’m familiar with the story, I’ve never heard it told quite so vividly.
“Just remember, no matter how we die, it was murder.”
Two weeks later: “Naw… it was an uzi suicide. Sad, sick irony. Oh, well. We’re done here, boys. Hey, does that look like… naw, he has corn rows… too fat.”
“But chief–”
“Again, we’re done here.”