A Study of Rammstein

About a month ago, my friend Nick Siple handed me his CD player (Which, by the way, looked Erely similar to mine) and told me to listen to something.

I pressed play, and suddenly a European Accent began laying out "We're all living in Amerika" through the small speakers, backed by a heavy guitar riff.  Heavy metal, Excellent.  At the time I didn't know it, but it was Rammstein - Amerika.

"Cool! I like it!" I said, which wa smet by his response of.
"Okay, I'll burn you a copy of Sahnsucht!" Which, is a really advanced word for Nick.  I think i did happen to notice a small amount of stubble jutting from his chin, but thought nothing of it.

Fast forward a month, Here I sit in front of a computer, my head phones on listening to Rammstein's newest album, Reise, Reise.  Commenting breifly on the upcoming release fo Reise, Reise Vol. 2, discussing the lyrics, scratching at my gotee, and such things that happen when you enjoy a band.  Imagine my surprise when in the course of discussion of lyrics and meanings with my friend and fellow Slapdasher Jason, that he should say that he's "...been getting into Rammstein more and more, and...started growing a gotee..." Suddenly I stopped, mid scratch, realizing what had been blatantly obvious for the past month.  I was becoming obsessed with Rammstein, since Nick handed me my copy of Sahnsucht, and I also realized I had been growing this gotee since that time, roughly!  Was it simply a coincidense?  Or, more likely, was it Siple's devious plan to turn us all into Big, Beard-Laden Germans?  Panicky, I went to ask my mutter, err, mother, who had also been getting into the music, if she noticed any extra facial hair growth.  As I neared the door to where she was I saw she was pulling hairs from her chin with a pair of tweazers!  Frozen in dismay, I decided I had to know!  I would see Kyle tomorow, Nay! I will call him right now!  No answer, Come on man!  Do you not see what has happened?!  HIS BEARD ATE HIS FACE!  Still panicky, and forgetting the ONE golden rule, Don't Panic, I ran to the bathroom to shave the over powering cursed hair from the flesh of my chin.  I opened the medicine cabinate to get my razor, and my eyes fell upon the Medical kit.  I stared for a moment as my eyes turned the Sold red cross into the red cross logo of Rammstein.  I threw the door shut and ran out onto the front porch, I looked at my truck, with still wet spray paint on the hood.  It shapes a cross, with an R...NO!  EVERYWHERE I GO!  I jumped in my mom's car and started it, I had to get away, get away from the house, and the Rammstein!  I'd go see a movie, i figured, but first, let's get some traveling music.  Pressing the on button on the CD player I was startled by the loud phraise blasting from the speakers on all sides of me.  A Deep, European voice crooned, "Moskau!" followed by a higher pitched Japanese pop-star sounding voice "Raas blan die!"  NO! It was in this car too!!  Throwing the manual transmission into neutral I rolled the window down, jumped, and prepared for impact.  Impact happened, with a side road, Asphalt hurts.  I stood, and stumbled towards the only place I was sure I could escape it, the only place music was outlawed. The school.

Razor in hand I opened the doors and ran for the first bathroom I saw.  Standing over the sink, preparing to lather up, I heard a familiar beat.  Not thinking, really, I began to tap my foot, and bob my head.  Before I realized it, I was singing aloud. "Du.  Du Hast.  Du Hast Meich.  Du Has...WHAT THE HECK!" I ran from the bathroom, and spied the Janitor cleaning the floor with a boom box on his cart.  I ran screaming fromt he building.  I ran screaming through town.  I ran screaming past my ex girlfriend's house...again, and ran screaming past the resevoir.  I turned to look at the Rammstein poster at the camp I passed.  I turned my head back in time to see the tree I was about to hit.



I don't remember falling, or passing out, just waking up.


I was on a hill, a few trees, rather sparse as far as Back-woods Pennsylvania goes though.  I stood and my legs felt like Jello. It was still dark, and I looked around.  The sun began to rise, and I said out loud, "Hire comes die sonne der..."  Feeling woozy, and obviously defeated, I colapsed to my knees, trembling, and mumbling incoherantly.  I reached in my pocket and pulled out my portable radio, and flicked it on.  "...US officials claim to have the insurgent sunder control, and the 402nd Air Division is now saftely on home territory at Ramstein Air base in Germany.  Now back to..."  I threw the radio against a tree and it smashed into a satisfying number of pieces.  Suddenly, Voices.  A gruff older sounding drunk, and a younger but equally as drunk, redneck.

"Who the heck are you, and why shouldn't we kill you right here, right now?!"

Realizing I was defeated, that Nick's evil plan of turning me into a Beard-laden German could only be completed if I was alive, I was ready.  I was ready to die.

I stood, tall and still, and shouted, "Freuer Frei!"  And as the bullets ripped through my flesh and I died, I couldn't help but realize my last words were German...