A permanent piece of my medium-sized Canadian heart

Could Tokyo Police Club be any more awful? Why the answer is an astounding YES, they can. I sometimes feel bad for them, because they’re so boring and homely, and they try to make good music, but they just fall so short.

I recently heard their latest musical catastrophe, a song called tessellate, which if you’re wondering means: “To form into a mosaic pattern, as by using small squares of stone or glass.” I’m certain the pale, scrawny 13 year old lead singer was all:“I heard this word today guys, and it’s like super awesome cool rad, and I think we should like totally make it a song!”
The other 13 year old, pale, scrawny, guitar player adds, “but like dood, we totally can’t make a whole song with just one word!?!”
Finally, the humble Jewish boy* in the band, (see above, he’s got like 7 sandwiches in hand), suggests, “but guys remember when we had that song where we chanted our own band name the whole time?? Why don’t we just do that again, but just say TESSELLATE in a mock British accent over and over.” Then, in unison, they applauded the brilliance of the Jewish band member! Hooray! Bar Mitzvah! Shalom! Hanukah! (* I’m Jewish so I’m allowed to make sly remarks on the topic.......well I’m not actually Jewish per se, but if I’d had the choice to be born either Jewish, or not Jewish, I’d chose the former.)

The song goes on to talk about how “broken hearts will tessellate…tonight.” God, what brilliant lyricist; they’re so poetic and endearing. Their 13 or so years spent on this earth have given them such beautiful insight into the world of severed hearts and unrequited love. When I hear that lyric I’m forced to envision axed cow hearts cauterized together to form a lovely mosaic pattern. Remember in high school when they forced you to dissect a cow’s heart? And it was fucking creepy as shit, and people spent the majority of the class running around and screeching at the top of their lungs every time someone touched the fucking thing? And it smelt like formaldehyde? And when you finally got the courage to cut the thing open, you had to saw for like 10 minutes? Meanwhile, your lab partner continued to yelp with ever motion of the knife? And then you finally got so fed up you cut off the aorta and chucked it at your feeble, annoying partner? Good times. Though, I was in “advanced placement” biology, so it’s probably just something us “90 percent average” kids did. Man we had it good.

I’ve forgotten what I began talking about. So now I’m going to stop…and leave for Disney World! Feel free to be jealous, because you know deep down in your tessellated heart that Disney brings on the magic like no other.