"Jesus, take the wheel."
Writers: Brett James, Gordy Sampson and Hillary Lindsey.
Performed by: Carrie Underwood
References to Cincinnati: one.
In this song, a baby is compared to: a rock.
This song by American Idol “winner” Carrie Underwood is an M-80 of a bad song to kick off the bad songs blog. It invokes Cincinnati, Jesus Christ and glare ice. According to the writing credits, three people helped assemble this song, which combines unpleasant music with terrible advice and one singularly impossible demand. The results are memorable.
Faith does many important things. Belief in God can buoy people through life’s inevitable failures and humiliations. Some people get out of bed everyday only because faith in God provides a reason for being.
But neither God nor any of his relatives will drive your car when you don’t want to. To prove this, I propose an experiment:
I will drive my car. You ask Jesus to drive your car. We will see which one ends up overturned in the median. We can wait for the press release from the Wisconsin State Patrol to give details (Driver: Jesus Christ. Age: 2043. Address: Everywhere.)
How many times does it have to be said? Jesus is not your handmaiden. He might give your life meaning, but he will not—ever, under any circumstances—perform everyday tasks at which you have somehow managed to fail. God’s son and man’s savior does not take requests. Jesus, dig my softball cleats out of the trunk. Jesus, sew the drapes. Jesus, clean the litter box. None of these things will get done unless you do them yourself or ask someone—someone who currently exists on this planet—to do them.
In the song, a woman is driving to Cincinnati (of course) with her baby when her car slides on the dreaded “thin black sheet of glass.” (Officer: “What was the sheet like?” Underwood: “Well officer, it was thin.”) What the song should tell people to do is stay off the brake and turn in the direction you wish the wheels to go. Instead, the woman in the song throws her hands into the air and asks Jesus to take the wheel.
I cannot overstate what a bad idea that is. Maybe she would have better luck concentrating her demands on requests that could come true, then attributing them to Jesus. Next time she hits ice, she could yell, “Jesus, crash my car into an abutment.” The months that follow a request for Jesus to drive a vehicle are always filled with requests for Jesus to pay medical bills, for Jesus to order a new quarter panel from the dealership, for Jesus to pay the other insurance company.
Also, Jesus cannot drive a four-wheeler, so don’t even ask.
Ratings (out of 10):
Stupidity of lyrics--10.
Musical obnoxiousness--4.
Likelihood of me actually kind of liking it--7.
Overall badness--8.
Performed by: Carrie Underwood
References to Cincinnati: one.
In this song, a baby is compared to: a rock.
This song by American Idol “winner” Carrie Underwood is an M-80 of a bad song to kick off the bad songs blog. It invokes Cincinnati, Jesus Christ and glare ice. According to the writing credits, three people helped assemble this song, which combines unpleasant music with terrible advice and one singularly impossible demand. The results are memorable.
Faith does many important things. Belief in God can buoy people through life’s inevitable failures and humiliations. Some people get out of bed everyday only because faith in God provides a reason for being.
But neither God nor any of his relatives will drive your car when you don’t want to. To prove this, I propose an experiment:
I will drive my car. You ask Jesus to drive your car. We will see which one ends up overturned in the median. We can wait for the press release from the Wisconsin State Patrol to give details (Driver: Jesus Christ. Age: 2043. Address: Everywhere.)
How many times does it have to be said? Jesus is not your handmaiden. He might give your life meaning, but he will not—ever, under any circumstances—perform everyday tasks at which you have somehow managed to fail. God’s son and man’s savior does not take requests. Jesus, dig my softball cleats out of the trunk. Jesus, sew the drapes. Jesus, clean the litter box. None of these things will get done unless you do them yourself or ask someone—someone who currently exists on this planet—to do them.
In the song, a woman is driving to Cincinnati (of course) with her baby when her car slides on the dreaded “thin black sheet of glass.” (Officer: “What was the sheet like?” Underwood: “Well officer, it was thin.”) What the song should tell people to do is stay off the brake and turn in the direction you wish the wheels to go. Instead, the woman in the song throws her hands into the air and asks Jesus to take the wheel.
I cannot overstate what a bad idea that is. Maybe she would have better luck concentrating her demands on requests that could come true, then attributing them to Jesus. Next time she hits ice, she could yell, “Jesus, crash my car into an abutment.” The months that follow a request for Jesus to drive a vehicle are always filled with requests for Jesus to pay medical bills, for Jesus to order a new quarter panel from the dealership, for Jesus to pay the other insurance company.
Also, Jesus cannot drive a four-wheeler, so don’t even ask.
Ratings (out of 10):
Stupidity of lyrics--10.
Musical obnoxiousness--4.
Likelihood of me actually kind of liking it--7.
Overall badness--8.
posted by Appetite for Destruction at 12:31 PM
7 Comments:
I'm glad you finally got this off your chest again. What will tomorrow bring?
I nominate that song about being Mr. Vain. Or Mr. Vein?
I think that song is about Slim Goodbody.
I am accepting nominations, plan to update nightly.
BRAVO!
Are ya kidding me?
Hello! Metaphor!
Howdy,
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