I love ham.

It’s my favorite meat.

And this morning, I did a horrible, horrible thing. I burnt a whole skillet full of the pink stuff. It was to be my breakfast. The morning was ruined.

I thought about crying. I thought about throwing a plate across the room. I thought about calling up Karen Floyd at the SCGOP and telling her that I would do her bidding. I would renounce my ways and embrace the Grand Ole Party.

But then something funny happened, I turned on WTMA’s The Morning Buzz with Richard Todd. Richard and Jack Hunter were talking about Pastor Terry Jones and this whole Koran burning mess. Apparently, the pastor had backed off his claim.

I thought about “Piss Christ.”

I thought about “The Da Vinci Code.”

I thought about Santa Claus.

And all the other countless ways in which Jesus has been blasphemed.

Well. I decided. I needed to do something about this. I needed to make a statement.

I would burn Def Leppard’s Pyromania.

Now, you must understand how much I once loved this album. It was the first record I ever bought. I listened to it again and again and again. I drew the album cover on all of my notebooks. I bought a Union Jack muscle tee. When I was in 4th grade, it was sacred to me.

But now I’ve learned the error of my ways. Pyromania is a horrible, horrible record.

“Photograph” is a silly song, that’s made even sillier by Mutt Lange’s heavy-handed production style. Next time you hear it, close your eyes and listen. Do you hear that? It’s Shania Twain.

“Rock of Ages.” When I was 9 years old and played D&D, the whole quasi-medieval gobbledygook that leads off the song was cool. Now, I can’t help but think about the image of Sam and Frodo embracing on the side of Mt. Doom, tears streaming down their faces as they struggle to admit their love for each other.

I could go on and on. But I won’t. I’m just too angry. Pyromania must burn.

I’ll get back to you just as soon as I track down a copy.

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