My On/Off Affair With Metallica or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love Metal

I remember it well, 8th grade in Phoenix, AZ.; I liked all kinds of music. The stuff on the radio was cool enough, Nirvana (Kurt had just died), Soundgarden, Pearl Jam and Nine Inch Nails. We listened to a rap/R&B station every day on the school bus - I thought some of those songs were all right. It was a treat when a Snoop Dogg, Dr. Dre or a Warren G. song came on – I thought those guys were tough. But then I started hanging around a new group of kids, they were mentioning bands I didn’t really know about: Megadeth, Slayer, Pantera, White Zombie and one I had heard of, Metallica.

I was familiar with the band but not with the music itself. I knew parents trembled at the mere mention of their name, which made the music that much more enticing to me. This was The Black Album era so of course I had seen Enter Sandman, and Unforgiven on MTV. I liked the songs and videos but it hadn’t really made me want to check out their music further. Back in those days there were .mp3’s, no CD burners. You had to trade physical CDs with friends, take them home and record them onto a cassette tape. That’s how we rolled, and we liked it.

One day a friend of mine realized I was behind the curve with metal CDs and he loaned me few of his so I could make tapes and get up to speed. I’ll never forget this, he let me borrow the following CDs: Megadeth’s epic Countdown To Extinction, Pantera’s Vulgar Display of Power, White Zombie’s La Sexorcisto: Devil Music Vol. 1, Ozzy Osbourne’s No More Tears, and to me, the crown jewel of them all, Metallica’s …And Justice For All.

And Justice For All made me a metal fan. The other albums loaned to me were cool, and to this day are some of my favorites, but And Justice For All, woah. My 13 year old head would spin every time I listened to it. The lyrics and singing were angry, the tempo was fast, the drumming was frantic and the guitars were smoking. Since Metallica had left the bass guitar out of the final mix (a cruel joke on newcomer Jason Newstead after the tragic loss of original bass player Cliff Burton) the album had a raw, primal sound. I loved it. Within a couple weeks I had scraped enough money together to buy Kill Em All, Ride The Lightning and the band’s seminal classic, Master Of Puppets. I was hooked.

I liked the black album, but like many others felt it had a more commercial, radio-friendly sound. The next few years went by quickly and before I knew it my sophomore year in high school was over and I was about to move from Phoenix to the California bay area. But a week before I did, Metallica dropped their new album, I was in for a surprise.

It was early June of 1996. I remember going into Target, running for the new release rack and picking up “Load”. The back of the album showed the band… with short hair, lame clothes and faggy sunglasses. What. The. Fuck.

It wouldn’t be much better when I put the CD in my player. The music was, alright I guess, but it wasn’t the Metallica I knew, loved and flew the flag for. All the anger, bitterness, the “fuck you world” attitude was missing from the music. Instead it was songs written and played by a couple of guys who had made A LOT of money with several world tours and album sales and had become so famous that they needed to break away from what they had done in the past.

I stuck with them.

The following album, ReLoad, was more of the same since it was, in fact, songs from the Load session that had been recorded with the intent of Load being a double album (the thing to do in those days). By now I was no longer a die hard Metallica fan; other bands and musicians had caught my interest, Joe Satriani, Dream Theater, TOOL, and a lot of classic rock bands. I looked at bands like Megadeth and Pantera as still keeping it real while Metallica were a total joke to me. I turned down tickets and chances to go see them in the bay area several times. Metallica had gown up and I still wanted the younger sound when they were willing to flip you off while double fisting two beers on stage.

Metallica came out with Garage Inc. in 1998, and to my surprise, it was decent. The Bob Seger cover and radio hit, Turn the Page, was actually very good, albeit rock and not metal. James didn’t sing like a whiny bitch and the band sounded pretty tight. The following year S&M was released. The band sounded excellent with the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra and the new song No Leaf Clover sounded as though it was written during the black album era - it had that kind of attitude. I held out a little hope but didn’t hold my breath.

Then came the Napster controversy, bassist Jason Newsted (my favorite member) leaving the band, the documentary Some Kind Of Monster, and the wretched St. Anger. After all of this happening in the early 2000s I completely wrote the band off. Metallica was completely dead to me. They were no longer relevant. Bands like Opeth and Lamb of God took my mantle of bands that kicked ass and took names. The words Lars Ulrich would send me off the deep end in a diatribe of everything that was wrong with success going to someone’s head.

Sometimes a band needs to blow it big time before they can accept they have lost their way and decide it is time to get back to what made them great in the first place. Would Metallica go back into the studio and find themselves with Rick Rubin, or would they continue to write soulless, cruddy rock music about their interpersonal demons. I have the answer, but you must wait until next week.

Until then put on ...And Justice For All loud.

Sunday Afternoons

Sunday afternoons are a magical time. There are usually good sporting events on TV depending on the time of year, and many people leave the afternoons open to hang out and relax - I know I do. Most of the Triafia is out or at work, and I found myself chilling at the compound getting some things done on the computer. iTunes was on random play and then, like a rainbow in the dark, a song I forgot about long ago came across my speakers. The song was none other than Black Sabbath's Heaven And Hell.



Talk all the trash you want on my boy Ronnie James Dio, but there is no denying the man can belt out a tune like no other. Sure he sings about wizards and rainbows most of the time but the fact that Dio single handedly (literally) invented the devil horn hand sign shows how awesome he is. So in honor of all things great about Sunday afternoons and Black Sabbath minus Ozzy (I was never a big fan of Ozzy era Sabbath) here is the band playing Heaven And Hell live.

Sunday Morning Bass

Here is Mark King, bass player for the awesome 80s group Level 42. We were chillin at work on Friday when one of my partners mentioned that he had ordered a rare 80s band live album on ebay. This brought up the discussion of which 80s bands were truely awesome and led to us showing each other videos of our favorites. We got to this little diddy and my jaw dropped to the floor. Enjoy.

Ode To The Greatest AR-15 Stock

Those mad scientist/engineering geniuses at Magpul Industries have done it again. I received a package at the front door of the compound today, and low and behold it was the Magpul UBR stock I've been waiting for several years to get my hands on. It took about three minutes and a little cave man grunting to properly install it on a evil black Noveske lower receiver that has been awaiting it's arrival. Very straight forward no crazy specialty tools required.

Let me just start by saying the Magpul UBR stock is hands down the coolest piece of kit I've installed on one of my rifles, ever. The UBR, just like Magpul's CTR stock (also a awesome piece of gear, but made for rifles serving in a carbine/SBR/light weight role) installs to the lower receiver rock solid. There is zero play and zero slop on this bad boy. The brilliant part of the design is the cheek piece/buffer tube remains in place while the adjusting part of the stock moves the length of pull from underneath. No more having your cheek half on the stock and half on the buffer tube (my main problem with most stocks). Also, the UBR has three hard points for QD sling swivel attachments, this makes Schwartzilla most happy. In my humble, AR-15 obsessed opinion, the UBR kicks it's competition - the LMT SOPMOD and Vltor E-Mod, to the curb. No other rifle stock out there comes close to the quality, comfortable, bomb proof design that Magpul has unleashed on the masses. As always, bravo Magpul.

Cool Kids - Black Mags

Normally there would be a Slayer or Pantera type metal video clip posted here but damnit these guys take me back to when I was a kid and some rap was actually entertaining. Dyno with the black mags/black mags/black mags. Yeeeeah boyeeeee!!

Learn English You Ungrateful Parasite!

You know what Schwartzilla hates? When an asshole from another country, who commits crimes nontheless, gets their vagina all twisted up when I don't spreken zie their native tongue. Just because I'm the po-lice and your people are FLOODING into my state it does not mean I should know your language to make your life that much easier. If you feel that you must come here to earn a honest living then I expect you to make a effort to learn the langauge spoken here. Not only will it allow you to communicate with the people who live in this great land, it will open doors for you to work in places better than Burger King and Taco Town.

Just two weeks ago, this dumb fucking hillbilly from some nowhere town in Jalisco, Mexico got all kinds of mad at me when he asked if I spoke spanish and I told him to learn english. He went ape shit, became outraged and acted indignified. If he could have picked up a phone and called the mexican consulate, he would have. It was as if someone had forced him to come over the border, and then do something foolish enough to wind up in FELONY arrignment court. Sorry amigo, I got no sympathy for you or anyone in your shoes. If you can't even attempt to assimilate into our society and follow our laws, I encourage you to leave. The exit is somewhere to the south. Just get in your car or back on your burro and take I-5 to LA and keep on going. Don't stop until you go past Mike Wood and the signs start saying Welcome To Mexico and Tijuana.


I'm not "anti-immigrant" or even "anti-illegal immigrant". I'm "anti-foreginer who comes to my country and expects me to tickle their nuts and give them a free ride and let them do whatever the fuck they want without consequences". Those are the bleeping jackasses that piss me off to no end.

If I decided I needed to make a better life for myself in a foregin country (it'll never happen, but go with it) and move to ShitHole, Uganda, population 300, I would need to learn the native langauge and take on their cultural practices in order to become a productive, contributing member of their society. If I rolled up however, didn't attempt to learn anything, watched American TV on satellite at my house, and only hung out with other Americans in front of WangaWanga Depot waiting for work, I wouldn't get far. If I rolled up in ShitHole, Uganda, and got all pussy bent becuase Click-Click and Umma-Mumma didn't learn english in order to become more culturally sensative to me, I'd probably get run out of town within minutes. If I arrived, refused to learn the language, participate in cultural customs, and insisted that the villagers eat hot dogs and listen to Chuck Berry, my head would be on a pole, literally.

In my humble opinion, our local, state, and federal government has got to stop coddling these ungrateful pricks and start kicking more of them to the curb when they can't conform to our way of life. Not very PC of me, but I see waaaaaay too much bullshit living here in the bay area - the epicenter of letting scumbag immigrants demand we give them more rights and become more understanding to THEIR culture. Fuck that, this is America. Learn English (and teach it to your 15 grubby kids you goddamn catholics), eat a hot dog, turn off Telemundo, and respect the culture that immigrants from all over the world created.

Sunday Morning Rage

Here is a little pick me up in honor of the Penguins hopefully beating the piss out of the Flyers today and in honor of all the awesome things I'll yell at crackheads in the upcoming week.