You shouldn’t worry, Keith. After all, Tijuana has seldom actually banned anyone, the Catholic Church agreed to drop the charges, the llamas were returned safely, and the UN Security Council has agreed to classify all records.
But for everyone’s sake, I’d avoid guacamole for a while if I were you, right?
I wonder if the CIA has done any research into weaponizing the phenomenon.
Imagine if you will: A dark night in a wartorn, ambiguously foreign nation. A lone, balaclava-clad generic enemy goon is out on patrol with only his rifle and his portable radio for company. Hoping for a quick laugh at the expense of his sworn enemy, the USA, he tunes into what he thinks is the usual American propaganda station, but instead of the usual speeches in broken foreignese clumsily attempting to persuade him to abandon his evil ways, he instead finds only a song. But not just any song, oh no, this is the most annoying song mankind has ever known.
Instinctively he hurls the radio away in disgust. It shatters against a rock, and the music–if you could call that “music”–is instantly cut short. And yet, in the unsettling silence that follows, a new sound can be heard. The sound of someone… humming? Wait a minute… what is that? It’s… it’s that song again! In a panic he whirls around, hoping to train his rifle upon his tormenter, but no one is there. Angrily he demands that they show themselves. Nothing. And then it dawns on him… he knows that voice. The voice humming that horrid song is his own.
Back at the generic enemy camp, the soldier tries in vane to force that horrible music out of his head. If only he could silence it, he could finally get some sleep. But nothing he tries works. In the morning they find him dead, his skull dashed in at the temples. Self-inflicted. Three more men complain of some horrible song stuck in their heads.
And if you look over at this comment, my fellow viewers, you can see the first steps of a young, aspiring horror director. This person will, as you can all clearly see, go very far in life.
There IS a cure for earworms….FINISH THE SONG!!!! The reason they stay in the mind is that when you get to the end of the part you remember it loops back to the beginning of what you remember. If you find the lyrics and finish the song, you won’t keep trying to remember the next line by looping back.
I find it helps to stop singing the lyrics and just hum the music to the parts I can’t remember. Or if I can’t remember the music, to make up new lyrics on the fly. That way I don’t get stuck within the vicious self-reinforcing memory cycle that causes earworms, and I get some extra entertainment out of it.
How do you know what I go through at night? How!? Who told you!? – Probably everyone
Somebody once told me…
Ah one of those nights.
You shouldn’t worry, Keith. After all, Tijuana has seldom actually banned anyone, the Catholic Church agreed to drop the charges, the llamas were returned safely, and the UN Security Council has agreed to classify all records.
But for everyone’s sake, I’d avoid guacamole for a while if I were you, right?
Is it merely alternating earworms https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Earworm keeping Keith awake, or is it the lyrics speaking to him? Nice ambiguity!
I prefer the term “memnonic Infector”; now their is some space age jargon!
No. These are definitely earworms. No infections, mnemonic or otherwise.
I wonder if the CIA has done any research into weaponizing the phenomenon.
Imagine if you will: A dark night in a wartorn, ambiguously foreign nation. A lone, balaclava-clad generic enemy goon is out on patrol with only his rifle and his portable radio for company. Hoping for a quick laugh at the expense of his sworn enemy, the USA, he tunes into what he thinks is the usual American propaganda station, but instead of the usual speeches in broken foreignese clumsily attempting to persuade him to abandon his evil ways, he instead finds only a song. But not just any song, oh no, this is the most annoying song mankind has ever known.
Instinctively he hurls the radio away in disgust. It shatters against a rock, and the music–if you could call that “music”–is instantly cut short. And yet, in the unsettling silence that follows, a new sound can be heard. The sound of someone… humming? Wait a minute… what is that? It’s… it’s that song again! In a panic he whirls around, hoping to train his rifle upon his tormenter, but no one is there. Angrily he demands that they show themselves. Nothing. And then it dawns on him… he knows that voice. The voice humming that horrid song is his own.
Back at the generic enemy camp, the soldier tries in vane to force that horrible music out of his head. If only he could silence it, he could finally get some sleep. But nothing he tries works. In the morning they find him dead, his skull dashed in at the temples. Self-inflicted. Three more men complain of some horrible song stuck in their heads.
And if you look over at this comment, my fellow viewers, you can see the first steps of a young, aspiring horror director. This person will, as you can all clearly see, go very far in life.
Reminds me more of the lethal joke Monty Python sketch
As a Lovecraft fan, you have my I respect man. Keep writing like that and you’ll earn a place in R’lyeh…
There IS a cure for earworms….FINISH THE SONG!!!! The reason they stay in the mind is that when you get to the end of the part you remember it loops back to the beginning of what you remember. If you find the lyrics and finish the song, you won’t keep trying to remember the next line by looping back.
Or whisky.
I find it helps to stop singing the lyrics and just hum the music to the parts I can’t remember. Or if I can’t remember the music, to make up new lyrics on the fly. That way I don’t get stuck within the vicious self-reinforcing memory cycle that causes earworms, and I get some extra entertainment out of it.
Why is no one disturbed by looking at Keith directly in his eyes, when he’s not wearing his sunglasses?
Is like looking directly at the abysss!
Kind of a dangerous comic here. Don’t you know that this is how you remind me of OH GOD IT’S SPREADING!!!
Quick! Whiskey!
I like to imagine that in this comic’s universe, some telepath gets their jollies by beaming earworms directly in the victim’s mind
I wonder if his boss will come to him: “Do you have the time to listen ro me..” NOOO!
Excuse you. All Star is the best song ever made?
Hold on. Keith is not solving this problem with alcohol? Nope, not buying that one.
Unless the big evil Teetotalus has immobilized all beer trucks and stuff.
If it could be solved with alcohol, it would already be solved.
If it can’t be solved with booze, try solving it with boobs!
You shouldn’t spell out those lyrics, you know. They’re highly contagious memetic agents, and the reason I never made it as a wi- DAMMIT.
The antidote for earworms is Spirit in the Sky. It’s my go-to now.
http://tripp.smackjeeves.com/comics/1116939/earworm/