Writing

Super Eject

Written sometime in 2001

While listening to Yar’s Revenge by DJ Mike The 2600 King today, I was moved to perform the feat I will descibe to you now. I’m going to let you in on a little bit of…hmm, what do you even call this kind of thing? Inside code? Sacred Intra-Group Code? Anyway, there is a form of music disrespect unlike any other, forged deep in the swamps of Florida while I was in high school a long long time ago.

The action consists of extracting a cassette tape (nobody had a car CD player at that time) from the dashboard of a vehicle while it was playing, and in one swift motion flinging the tape backward through the length of the car to rest somewhere where it will never be played again.

This, my friends, is called Super Eject. If you get Super Ejected, you get dissed. Hard. The statement made is, “I would like to never hear this piece of shit again in my life and I hope this tape spends many torturous days baking in the seering Florida sun.”

Sometimes tapes would be Super Ejected simply from overuse and not dislike. It’s a fine line, people. That one last play could be the snapping point. One second you’re jamming out in the back seat to She Sells Sanctuary because you convinced the front-seaters to pop your copy in, next thing you know you’ve got a fat lip courtesy of Sire records. Shouldn’t have sat on the hump in the middle.