To Asian dude standing next to Kurt Cobain freaking out at the end of “Smells Like Teen Spirit”
Dear Asian dude,
So you’re going to University of Washington in Seattle, majoring in (uh) Mathematics, and you see a casting call for this new band in town. It’s being filmed in an abandoned gymnasium near your apartment, and they need someone diverse, preferably with a bowl-cut. You have the Tuesday off and figure why not. The video shoot goes fairly well. One of the ironic-goth cheerleaders is into Asians and it just might be (x+1)(x-1)= splooge for you tonight. Good times since you came here from Korea you are thinking, then at the song’s emotive climax, Kurt smashes his ’64 Fender Mustang and sort of “alternatively” freaks out. You are like “Jesa Clist mista, get a glip!” but he’s all A DENIAL!!! A DENIAL!!! A DENIAL!!!, etc. You see, Kim Su, in America the kids are pretty fucked up; got something to do with capitalism, generation x, or something. I’m sorry you felt your physical safety was in danger, but Kurt kind of got lost in the song. As you know, he is no longer with us, as painful as it still feels to say and think about what happened. I hope you got your B.S. in Math, maybe got a job at a software company, and are now happily married in Vancouver, Canada with a beautiful former goth cheerleader. I hope (x+1)(x-1)=’d splooge after all, and that there are little Kim Sus running around. Sing the chorus for me again Sir, and I shall close my eyes to our shared yesterday.