Noli Me Tangere

The Perfection of Hoobastank

> > Abe-
> >
> > It is a well-established point of logical method
> > that if the inital assumptions of a scientific or philosophical
> > discourse can be proven to be false, then the validity of the entire
> > document is then nullified.
> >
> > Given this knowledge, if we are willing to concede
> > that the lead singer of
> > Hoobastank is, in fact, a perfect person, can we
> > then disregard all of his whining thereafter?
> >
> > -W McD.

Will, you bring up a point which bears examination, especially since there has been such a ruckus surrounding Mr. Robb and his supposed perfection. A quick glance at internet chat rooms and tribute websites reveals a startlingly common belief that, as you suggest, "the lead singer of Hoobastank is, in fact, a perfect person".

While finding scientific proof of this would be difficult (who would pay for such research?), it can be argued that those who follow the band, and especially those groupies who have studied Mr. Robb's chiseled features at length, can make the best judgment as to the level of perfection he has attained.

A quick glance at this photo from a January gig near Robb’s hometown in Northern Greenland is inconclusive.

While the person pictured here is clearly very good (as evidenced by his closed eyes and desirable nose) it is impossible to determine whether or not he is actually perfect. The hat, in particular, could be a bold fashion statement that says: “I am perfect!” On the other hand, it could be saying nothing more than, "I am very dorky!"

Nobody worth their journalistic salt would attempt to draw conclusions of such magnitude from one piece of evidence, especially a wholly inconclusive piece of evidence. So I continued my search, in hopes that someone somewhere had done some of the preliminary research so I could simply lift it for this essay. I did find this pic, which only serves to further muddy the waters:

Again, on first glance, Mr. Robb’s perfection seems obvious. Clearly the girl pictured bears the kind of smile that only makes itself known in the presence of perfection. But, look closely, lad, and you’ll notice a different vibe from the character on the right. He appears significantly less enthused, and seems to regard Mr. Robb as the kind of “jackass musician that my girlfriend is always talking about”. I would be willing to bet that the man pictured at right, if asked, would happily testify to Mr. Robb’s many imperfections.

I grew tired in my search for the answer, Will. But you know what they say: ‘the early dolphin gets the net.’ So I pressed on in my research, when at last I found the smoking gun I needed:

This, to me, is indisputable. Mr. Robb’s perfection is coming out of his shirt, and lifting his eyebrows (even after a night of hard drinking). In addition, his hair appears to be quite perfect, and he has perfected (pun intended) the Fred Durst Trademark Mic Grip. Note the perfect form of his emoting hand. Clearly, this man has no discernible flaw. He is an artist and an Adonis in one. He knows not auto-tune. He will seduce your daughter yet you don’t care, and in fact you are glad. He loves you, and you know it. He will lead you home. He is el perfecto.

The whole idea of Hoobastank is perfect, really. You've got four indistinct, telegenic, nameless pretty-boys playing catchy, flawless, faux-agressive rock. They are a 99x programmer's dream. Their songs are passionate in the Pro Tools passion-plugin kind of way, and their lyrics are surgically generic--perfect for today's modern rock station. I would contend that Mr. Robb's perfection has spread like a sanitized Norwalk virus to his bandmates and the entire corporate rock vessel he captains. "The Reason" is arguably the most perfect rock ballad since Poison lamented "instead of makin' love, we both made our separate ways."

In answer to your question, Mr. McDaniel: I believe that yes, we can disregard all his subsequent whining and psycho-relational mumbo-jumbo because his opening line is, in fact, patently false. The question I return to you, Mr. McDaniel, is why a perfect person would even bother with it. Is it possible to be perfect and perfectly untrue at once? How could perfection be as banal as this song suggests? This, my friend, is the real mystery.

Posted by aokie at August 24, 2004 04:27 PM