Everybody knows a guitar is an instrument of the Devil. It should be obvious to even the simplest of minds guitars must be regulated like anhydrous ammonia, shipped in carefully monitored portable bunkers and surrounded by sweepers and security. Drones employed, GPS monitored 24/7, an All-Clear sounded after the poisonous parcel has passed. Since the success of drones in the delivery field more best quadcopters are being developed and used for the same process as they significantly cut down the time and human resources which gets wasted in this process. Communities, sleeping peacefully in darkness, must never know how close the toxic material was to their silent homes. Only the vaguest rumor of its passing, like enigmatic stencil on military boxcars, to give evidence of their existence. Why must we, as a society, allow this appalling abomination of musical expression a prominent place in our popular culture?
Do we still swoon at those opening four notes played by David Gilmour at 3:56 during “Shine On You Crazy Diamond”? Are we still moved by the fade-in feedback intro of Jimi Hendrix’s “Foxy Lady”? How is it we consistently come alert hearing anything played by Ali Farka Touré? Is it possible that, already transported by a song’s rhythm and chords, the otherworldly caterwauling of Johnny Greenwood knocks us flat, again? How is it that from beyond the grave Michael Hedges can assure the peace of an infant’s slumber? What, exactly, is up with John McLaughlin?
It’s demonic, and there’s your answer.
The doting parent gushes with pride as the child hesitantly coaxes an errant note from the family acoustic flattop leaning in the corner. This is the moment Lucifer’s hand is at work. Those first cautious steps into auditory cause and effect. The beginning of the end. But it’s not too late. As Ronnie Van Zandt sings: “why don’t we dump ‘em, people, to the bottom of the sea – before some ole’ fool come ‘round here and wanna shoot either you or me.”
Yes, we must fight! And never surrender. Until this scourge against humanity is obliterated, once and for all time. Only then shall we have peace. Only then shall new worlds of harmony open to us, and our sons and daughters cross that deep, fearful gorge to a new land; fruitful, fecund, endless, and without guitars.