Wed, Nov 25 2009
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Published October 29, 2009 06:03 pm - Rivers opened his lyric generator on his computer and entered the words “parties” and “girls,” but he also knew that to appear authentic, he needed to sprinkle in some playful idiom that signified he was an animal like them. Jeremiah Tucker: Rivers Cuomo writes a new Weezer song Weezer: ‘Raditude’ (C-)
Rivers Cuomo emerged from a small closet into a large sunlit room in the east wing of his mansion where for the past 15 hours he’d engaged in Vipassana meditation. He loved Vipassana meditation. It was all he needed to sustain himself, having evolved past the need for sleep years ago. Or had he? Sometimes he forgot these things. Not long ago he was convinced he no longer needed to eat, but then many of his major organs shut down and one of the humans found him slouched in his meditation closet where he’d been for the better part of a month. Had he still not evolved? He called for one of the humans, and his wife, who’d been waiting outside his room, quickly stepped inside. “Oh, Rivers, I’m glad you decided to come out of your meditation closet, today,” she said. “I was thinking we could take Mia to the park.” “Servant human, am I pure energy yet?” he asked. “Can you see me? Have I transcended?” His wife sighed and told him that if he wasn’t going to spend time with his family, then he needed to write a new song. “The studio called and asked about the new album, but I told them you were in your closet again and you were a total diva about not being disturbed when you’re in your closet, so whatever,” she said. Then she left, slamming the door behind her. So indeed he had not yet shed his physical prison. This was disappointing. “VEGETABLES!” he screamed. Seconds later one of the humans shoved some roughage under the door and he ate. It disgusted him, masticating like a beast of the field, but the long-haired, not un-comely human was right. He must make the animals dance if he is not to be disturbed in his quest to return to the energy field from whence he came. He opened the balcony door and threw the plate into one of the pools below. It was time to work. He opened his laptop and consulted some algorithms he’d made years ago. He picked up his guitar, plucked the D string and waited for the note to fade. Then he smashed the guitar to pieces. “Hmmm,” he said. “Interesting.” 
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