This is not going to be the last post that could be subtitled “damn you John Ringo, my wallet hates you.”
Yes, the Didact, and even Vox Day, have had an impact on my musical tastes above and beyond the classical, broadway and country and western (“both types of music”) I was raised on, the classic rock and metal I fell in love with, and the new wave, industrial, and goth scene I fell into. But few have been so consistently painful to my time and wallet as John Ringo.
Yeah, he’s an author. For better or for worse, he loves to make pop culture references. No, not just any pop culture. Songs. But not pop music.
So in addition to becoming a near perfect usage of Bodies by Drowning Pool in Strands of Sorrow, or his playlists for various books including cheesy but fun Dragonforce, Breaking Benjamin, the Navy choir, Danse Macabre by Saint Saens, repeatedly abusing Citadel and Winterborn by the Cruxshadows, and all sorts of other fun stuff (The Didact can blame John for getting me hooked on E Nomine and Vater Unser before I passed it on in turn), he and S. M. Stirling almost simultaneously write post apocalyptic fiction strongly incorporating the filk song March of Cambreadth by Heather Alexander.
Damn him. My wallet cries in pain.
With my background, I am, among other things, a sucker for folk and celtic. Heather’s stuff is uniformly good. A lot of it traditional, and a fair bit original.
But despite bagpipes, not at all rock and roll, and no electric instruments, March of Cambreadth is one of the most in-your-face, go-kill-them-all, metal songs ever. I’d love to hear a good metal cover by, say, Sabaton.
Axes flash, broadsword swing, Shining armour's piercing ring Horses run with polished shield, Fight Those Bastards till They Yield Midnight mare and blood red roan, Fight to Keep this Land Your Own Sound the horn and call the cry, How Many of Them Can We Make Die! Follow orders as you're told, Make Their Yellow Blood Run Cold Fight until you die or drop, A Force Like Ours is Hard to Stop Close your mind to stress and pain, Fight till You're No Longer Sane Let not one damn cur pass by, How Many of Them Can We Make Die! Guard your women and children well, Send These Bastards Back to Hell We'll teach them the ways of war, They Won't Come Here Any More Use your shield and use your head, Fight till Every One is Dead Raise the flag up to the sky, How Many of Them Can We Make Die! Dawn has broke, the time has come, Move Your Feet to a Marching Drum We'll win the war and pay the toll, We'll Fight as One in Heart and Soul Midnight mare and blood red roan, Fight to Keep this Land Your Own Sound the horn and call the cry, How Many of Them Can We Make Die! Axes flash, broadsword swing, Shining armour's piercing ring Horses run with polished shield, Fight Those Bastards till They Yield Midnight mare and blood red roan, Fight to Keep this Land Your Own Sound the horn and call the cry, How Many of Them Can We Make Die!
Good stuff...
