Shirt Stains: Dimmu Lolgir 2: Electric Creepaloo
Death Cult Nopeageddon.
We’ve previously covered terrible Dimmu Borgir shirts here at Shirt Stains. All of those are bad, Dimmu Borgir should feel bad for releasing them, and their fans should feel even worse for paying for them and wearing them in public. Despite the abject terribleness of those shirts, they were harmless. Just some bad designs or poorly planned ideas. Today’s shirt, though, is bad for a different reason. Let’s take a look at the front, more to get it out of the way than anything else.
It’s a picture of the band in one of their more embarrassing incantations. You have your standard black metal “we’re not sheep, that’s why we dress alike” corpse paint, +1 nerd weapons, and “gosh, I hope there’s low humidity today or else I’ll frizz” hairstyle. Even better than all that is the guy at the bottom, complete with top hat and cane. I don’t know his name, so I’ll just refer to him as Charlie Pickletickle, World’s Shittiest Magician. The band, along with Mr. Pickletickle is cleverly arranged to look either like an inverted pentagram or like Wile. E. Coyote’s face. The band is set on a muddy field of green for some reason. It’s like when a diner puts your chicken fingers on a sad bed of shredded lettuce. Just like those diners, Dimmu Borgir shouldn’t try to fancy it up. It only makes them look cheap and depressing.
Of course the sleeves have stupid shit on them. It’s practically a requirement that a metal longsleeve should have garbage written all over the sleeves. Why “Six Six Six” is written out, I have no idea. Maybe the “6” button was stuck when it was being designed. Really, though, it’s the back of the shirt that needs to be openly mocked and shunned like so many conservative radio talk show hosts.
What. A. Bunch. Of. Fucking. Creeps. If you listen closely you can hear the sound of a million women simultaneously laughing and retching. This is the shirt for men who say “gash” or “trim” when referring to women. This is the shirt for guys who pontificate about “females” on Twitter while threatening game developers. This is the shirt for guys that own “The Art Of Seduction.” Men’s Rights Activists have this framed in their tree house. Is it possible to snap your own neck from shaking it in disgust for too long? Maybe I expected too much for a band that featured a topless woman on her knees with a collar and chain around her neck in their most popular music video.
Why just the night? Was the day already reserved for hunting? Did they need a special permit for doing it during the day and ran out of money because they had to put their name and their logo on the back?
Look at those guys up there are the front of the shirt? The only thing they’re hunting for is that porno stash that one of their older brothers buried somewhere in the woods. You think they were out there having their own teen sex comedy movie? You think Charlie Pickletickle was making anything disappear with his garbage magic act? The only thing he can pull out of a hat is Jergens bottle. Gross gross gross.
You can chalk this up to the band being “young” all you want, it still doesn’t make it any better. I don’t know how the band would react to this shirt now. Laugh? Apologize? Say “Fuck yeah, brother, let’s go hunt some whatever silly Norwegian slang word they use for vagina? I don’t really know. Maybe their “hunting” days are over. Maybe Charlie Pickletickle has hung up his top hat and cape, settled down with his magic assistant, and is getting his act ready for Reno. His first trick should be to make this shirt disappear forever.