Last night I went to Sound Arena Rehearsal Studios on Santa Monica Boulevard near where the transvestites hang out. The people inside had the deathly pallor of Zombie Artists. Good-intentioned folks who have fought their way inside the machine only get to stuck among the cogs and widgets. I was immediately repulsed.

I was there to audition for lead singer of some new band that I saw on craigslist. I should have known better than to respond to an ad citing "Radiohead, Nirvana, Mars Volta, and The Killers" as influences, but something drew me in in spite of that big red flag. Was it Desperation? Lonliness? Selfish Ambition? Hmm...

Audition goes well. They like me. They don't completely suck. I tell them I'll have to sleep on it.

To make this decision, I draw on previous experience to recognize what my instincts and my rational mind are telling me.

My Rational Mind: "I'm not sure, but whatever you do, don't trust your instincts."

My Instincts: "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THEM YOU MORON! RUN!"

The instincts have it.