A New Axis Of Evil

I'm on to you, Dead Weather. I don't know who it is you think you're dealing with but I want you to know that I came here to draw blood and I'm not leaving until one of us is gnarled like T. Cruise in Vanilla Sky (or maybe Born On The 4th of July?). Sure, you've been setting the Heartland ablaze with your pale-faced, leather-clad charades on par with a hipster Edward Scissorhands, but I'll be the first to stand up and say "I refuse to be intimidated".

You and I both know you've only made the marks because your complexion suggests that you're a legion of undead set to unleash a hellfire of power-chords and demonic hooks. You've got reviewers scared shitless that you're gonna go all "Drag Me To Hell" with their firstborn. While I wouldn't consider myself a religious creature anymore (my thetan levels are redonkulous (sp.?)), it's become quite apparent to me that if there was such thing as a biblical calling, it would most likely be to defend earth from the hordes of your dark asses.
Like Sith Lords of the South, your dastardly rhythms and deep cuts have everyone thinking you're trained like famed rogue Jedi (that word is totally in my spellcheck: WIN), James Earl Jones. But you're one moon short of Hoth and this wookie ain't the forgiving type.

As if I wasn't going to notice that you just released the same exact album!
It's not necessarily that every songs SOUNDS the same, it's just that they ARE the same. The exact same. I mean, you've changed out the occasional word, maybe messed around with how many measures it takes to get to a staccato chorus or two, maybe even decided to break out the bag pipes, (aka, the horn of Satan) but this won't allow me to forgive your insurrections to the world of rock.
I'm guessing you've chosen to have all your songs sound repetitive so that they resemble some pagan chants of ages past. In this way, you're tricking our angsty youth to resurrect some cross between a goat, a dragon and a ham sandwich (surprises you with what I know, doesn't it?).

Jack, I expected better of you. Sure the White Stripes were overrated and the Raconteurs outstayed their welcome like George Bush at a White House house party, but as a big brother of the music scene, you should know better. But I guess we can all make mistakes.

Mosshart, get a job, shampoo, and a better nickname than "horehound" (I can't imagine how awkward that made family dinner parties).

Anyone else I left out in the band? Didn't think so.