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Thursday, August 12, 2010

The Death Of Ken

All you really hear about nowadays is dudes, especially African-American males, worried about their manhood being questioned. Too afraid to cry because of the childhood programming that a man isn't supposed to cry because that makes you a punk. Don't even get me started on that 'no homo' and 'pause' garbage. If you're not of the homosexual persuasion, there's no need to really clarify. But I digress...

I have ALWAYS believed that a man's experiences and the lessons he learns define his manhood as opposed to the facade of being a tough guy and not saying things that can be construed or flipped in something less than heterosexual. As far as men go, one man (although inanimate) is the true measure of a man-Ken.





I've always found a measure of strength in the way Ken is quietly contented in being little more than a set piece to the woman in his life. Granted, this isn't me bashing those go getters amongst the female constituency. Nope. This is just me in my overactive imagination just imagining that Ken grows tired of being brow beaten by all of Barbie's accomplishments with nothing to show for it but a gay ass cowboy outfit and a pink sweater. This is an extended metaphor for dudes who are like this. Hopefully I pulled it off well. Enjoy.


The Ken Dreads

Verse One
Coolest Kenny
I bet it’s torture
The anatomical lacking
When rather piranhas are snacking
On shafts to tops of the elevator
But no, it was a ruthless
Chop shop diva made the man a eunuch
Emasculated by the picture perfect dollhouse
And some pink Corvette waiting restlessly
But wait…that’s sold separately
No glory, no nuts
No Skipper, no sluts
Took the consonant at the end
Makes you woman dearest mommy, friend
Less of a total, constantly what friends said
More than anything, the thing that Ken dreads


Chorus
Broke dick dolls and dogs
In for a slow slog
The loss of manhood makes kindred
And what Ken dreads


Repeat once

Verse Two
The killer K
Tantamount to doom down
Missing the members
Three minus leaving cold Decembers
To the skin grafts where towers rested
Cut off Samson after Delilah
No remaining power is survivor
That beach house bullshit was taxing
Hoping to escape thumbs of the girl
So sick until upchuck of a Barbie world
Without teeth, without balls
A prisoner, trapped in walls
Silent because of what the other side shows
Opinions and will held back by brothers, GI Joes
Going after phallus, a fallacy many said
More than everything, the thing that Ken dreads


Chorus 2xs

Verse Three
It was Ken
Alone within the hurt
Of being raped, robbed of the wood
Yelled for the return, as if it could
A trophy taken from the nagging wars
And those danger brothers contribute guard
Leaving the plastered smiles scarred
Tennis sweaters and khaki short uniformed disgust
So when Barbie came home it was to a different tone
As broken Ken picked one last bone
Take care, take stones
Perfect dolly, left alone
Three GI Joes stand at attention, wordlessly
As the blonde haired icon stares helplessly
Seems balls and words resurrect, base to head
Now there is nothing that Ken really dreads


Chorus 2xs



The Ken Dreads
Attack of the Plastics
Lucius Black
L. Powell