Best Karaoke Song?

Lowbrow Answer: "Don't Stop Believin'" by Journey
She's just a small town girl and she took the midnight train going anywhere? How? Where the hell are this girl's parents? Getting on a train to meet up with some strange city boy sounds like the opening sequence of NBC's "To Catch a Thief." I can guarantee you that girl is going to end up drunk on the floor of some motel with her pants around her ankles, while Mr. City Boy hotfoots it to Mexico with her purse.

And as if this song weren't already annoying enough, those miscreants from "Glee" had to go and cover it. So now we've got an entire race of perky teenagers humming the tune while they listen to their pink iPods and text their friends. Where's a mass infanticide when you need one.


Middlebrow Answer: "We are the Champions," by Queen
You are the champions? Of what? You just win the World Cup? Capture the Super Bowl? Eat 129 hot dogs in three and a half minutes? No. No, you didn't. Because you're a balding fat-ass singing karaoke in a rundown Marriott in New Hampshire. You're a lot of things, but a champion isn't one of them.

Although, it's hard to argue with Freddie Mercury. What a badass. Ridiculous voice, awesome tight pants, and great music. Rumor has it that when Mercury found out he had AIDS, he ignored doctors and just threw a bunch of wild parties before he died. Makes sense. Let's see, do I want to waste away in a hospital bed or snort cocaine off a retarded midget's titty?


Highbrow Answer: "The Dead Flag Blues" by Godspeed You! Black Emperor
It's seventeen minutes long. There is no singing. It features apocalyptic poetry and weird ambient noise. If you've never heard this song, click here and get educated on the first ten minutes of it, at least. Think of it as an investment in your future. A little gift from me to you.

I can just picture the scene. A crowded Alabama bar with a shitty karaoke machine in the corner. A blond slut just sang "Like a Virgin" in the single most non-ironic ironic moment ever. They call your name. You take a deep breath, pull up your skinny jeans, and step toward the mic. Four minutes into this song, people start to boo. Eight minutes in, they start throwing beer. Sixteen minutes in and The Department of Homeland Security shows up to arrest you for being Un-American. Mission accomplished. Highbrow achieved.

Best Chess Piece?

Lowbrow Answer: The Rook
Look at you. All thick and stout with a flattop haircut. You're the chess version of a Duke Lacrosse player. You're the piece most likely to date-rape one of the female pawns: "Come back to my square later, baby, we'll have some boxed-wine and Captain Morgan."

And you can only move in straight lines? What are you, six? You move like a donkey wearing blinders, only you aren't wearing any blinders. You're the opposite of having Cerebral Palsy; your body works just fine but your mind is an idiot.


Middlebrow Answer: The Bishop
He hangs out right next to the king and queen, which means he's kind of important by association. It's like how those people you always see in the background of pictures of the president are the ones who are really running shit. He's religious, however, which immediately loses him points. The highbrow elite don't spend Sundays in church, they spend Sundays outside the church, making fun of those that are inside.

Moving diagonally is kind of awesome, because it means the bishops are the only pieces that stay on one color square for the whole game. None of this mingling with the masses shit. I'm perfectly happy on just the black squares, thanks. Although, is it ironic to anybody else that the bishop is the piece that looks the most like an erect penis? I smell a lawsuit.


Highbrow Answer: The Knight
This dude is so highbrow that he doesn't even believe in normal geometry. No straight lines for me, thanks, I'll just move in "L's". He doesn't stand next to the King and Queen because fuck the King and Queen. They can take care of themselves; he's got women to bone and non-linear movements to make.

Oh, and jumping other pieces? No problem. You really think he's going to let the proletariat keep him from going where he pleases? If only life were like that. The highbrow elite could have special cars that let them leapfrog the idiots. Then we would always get to work on time for our jobs as sit-around-and-think-of-highbrow-stuff-and-publish-books-that-nobody-will-read-ers.