WTF?

At the institution where I pick up my paycheck (no, not the unemployment agency), they offer a "personality" test as part of soft skills training. One in particular, the gateway course to other equally soft courses, is called TDF. The letters stand for Thoughts, Decisions, and Feelings. Once you complete a comprehensive vocabulary test of adjectives about yourself you are assigned the three letters in a certain order. The first letter is the most dominant trait you possess. Most participants who are analytical are often disappointed to learn they are an F--. Yet, in reality, the F'ers are better off than the T'ers because they are more intuitive and see the grand scheme beneath the surface. It turned out I'm a TFD, and I know this is true because I am terrible at deciphering song lyrics.

Lately, I've been introduced to Panic! At the Disco's "A Fever You Can't Sweat Out" album. Can I just say it is simply dyslexically brilliant. I didn't realize the irony of the title until after I listened to the entire album a few times and decided to take notice of the lyrics. (This is quite an accomplishment for a song, let alone an album, as I am a beats and melodies kinda gal. ) First off, the song titles alone are enough to get your mind wondering as to what the band is trying to get across. Then you move onto the lyrics and tunes as you peel back the layers of this discombobulated onion. Even the musical styles they incorporate are sarcastic. The whole album is brimming with symbolism and nuances someone like me would never fully solve in a lifetime.

Right now, my favorite song is Camisado, which in archaic Spanish (archaic Spanish?! Where do these guys come up with these things) means nocturnal ambush. The words that stood out to me the most were "Just sit back and relax...sit back and relapse...therapeutic chain of events." At first I thought the song was preaching don't sweat the little things, but upon further examination it takes place in a hospital. Some things that came to mind were child abuse, like a stepfather taking advantage of a stepchild in the middle of the night or perhaps domestic violence and the child ends up in the hospital while trying to protect his/her mother. In either case, the soul is floating around taking in the hospital as the corpeal entity is unconscious. Then I read some threads and people were saying the song was a Fight Club reference, which made the "decorated emergency" fit a lot better than when I thought it was "decorating emergency" and thought of a crack whore. The Fight Club reference really hit it home for me with the "therapeutic chain" of events; it reminded me of that one time when I shanked an old man at a pub. Good times, good times....


Lyrics for your reference.

PANIC! AT THE DISCO LYRICS -- "Camisado"
The I.V. and your hospital bed
This was no accident
This was a therapeutic chain of events
This is the scent of dead skin on a linoleum floor
This is the scent of quarantine wings in a hospital
It's not so pleasant
And it's not so conventional
It sure as hell ain't normal
But we deal, we deal
The anesthetic never set in and I'm wondering where
The apathy and urgency is that I thought I phoned in
It's not so pleasant.
And it's not so conventional
It sure as hell ain't normal
But we deal, we deal
Just sit back, just sit back
Just sit back and relax
Just sit back, just sit back
Just sit back and relapse again
Can't take the kid from the fight
take the fight from the kid
Sit back, relax Sit back, relapse again
Can't take the kid from the fight
take the fight from the kid
Just sit back, just sit back
You're a regular decorated emergency
You're a regular decorated emergency
This is the scent of dead skin on a linoleum floor
This is the scent of quarantine wings in a hospital
It's not so pleasant.
And it's not so conventional
It sure as hell ain't normal
But we deal, we deal
The anesthetic never set in and I'm wondering where
The apathy and urgency is that I thought I phoned in
It's not so pleasant.
And it's not so conventional
It sure as hell ain't normal
But we deal, we deal
Can't take the kid from the fight
take the fight from the kid
Sit back, relax Sit back, relapse again
Can't take the kid from the fight
take the fight from the kid
Just sit back, just sit back
Sit back, sit back, relax, relapse
Sit back, sit back, bababada
You can take the kid out of the fight
You're a regular decorated emergency
The bruises and contusions will remind me what you did when you wake
You've earned a place atop the ICU's hall of fame
The camera caught you causing a commotion on the gurney again
You're a regular decorated emergency
The bruises and contusions will remind me what you did when you wake
You've earned a place atop the ICU's hall of fame
The camera caught you causing a commotion on the gurney again
Can't take the kid from the fighttake the fight from the kid
Sit back, relax Sit back, relapse again
Can't take the kid from the fighttake the fight from the kid
Just sit back, just sit back
Sit back, sit back, relax, relapse
Sit back, sit back, bababada
You can take the kid out of the fight
The I.V. and your hospital bed
This was no accident
This was a therapeutic chain of events

(Or maybe, it's decrying the horrible state of our healthcare and hospital system. Perhaps a personal experience had them so frustrated they went ballistic in the ER and had to be calmed down. Any takers?)