The Abject Holy Terror Of Night Ranger, or, a Contest

The video, I think, explains it all:

For reasons that are simply too terrifying to detail now, except to say DIE BILL SCHAFER DIE, I am cursed to wear this Night Ranger shirt for the rest of the day. The picture below explains how I feel about this:

It burns! It burns!

Nevertheless I must endure.

AND, this does offer me an opportunity to run a contest. If you would also like to illustrate the sort of existential pain I am going through at the moment, here is a green screen version of me terrified in my t-shirt, for your Photoshopping pleasure. Please do what you will to the image, and then link to your versions of me in Night Ranger T-Shirt Hell in the comment thread. I’ll pick the best, and the winner gets a Signed Limited Edition of The Last Colony, direct from Subterranean Press (who has a shipping department, i.e., you don’t have to rely on me to send it, i.e., it will actually get there). The contest runs through 11:59 (Eastern) Thursday evening, and I’ll announce the winner on Friday.

If you want to play but don’t want to use that picture, use any other picture you like, but your final image must include both me and Night Ranger in some way, shape or form. Yeah, the possibilities are endless, and unspeakable.

Good luck, have fun and in the meantime: The horror. THE HORROR.

80 Comments on “The Abject Holy Terror Of Night Ranger, or, a Contest”

  1. No! Unfortunately I suffer from The Night Ranger effect. Even the mention of the band causes “Sister Christian” to get stuck in my head.

    Currently the only known cure is massive amounts of quality music…

    Thanks…

    Rabid

  2. Man. Maybe it’s just too early in the morning, but I have no idea where to begin on this.

    Perhaps inspiration will strike after some chocolate.

  3. I have one that I made using my lack of Photoshop skills. The internet at work is wonky so I may have to wait until I get home.

  4. Newberry, I don’t know if that is what John is looking for, but I loved it! I may have to print out a large scale version to put on my office wall. And this is where I admit that it was watching Night Ranger videos that made me realize that A) there was a difference between bass guitars, solo guitars, and rhythm guitars; and B) that the bands were NOT really performing during the videos.

  5. Uh-oh, I think I see more Night Ranger t-shirts (or other appropriate bands like Winger or Great White) in your future. This could be some ploy to build your wardrobe around detached irony.

    I also think Newberry should win one internet for the photoshop.

  6. You know, as long as you have me in the T-shirt, Night Ranger is also in the picture. It’s only when you choose a different picture that you have to make sure both elements are there.

  7. It is a very clever shirt, actually, building on their genre-breaking early hit with a play on words that demonstrates that they are, indeed, rockin’ America. There is a very Dan Brown-ish artistic method there, building on an extended theme some 25 years later that really makes you wonder what messages they were hiding in their early tunes.

    I’m thinking this is only the beginning of a wealth of revelations.

  8. Dammit, Scalzi, I am SUPPOSED to be packing for my move. Not photoshopping you. But how can I resist such a contest! I can not. (And I already have a glorious idea.)

  9. Wow that Night Ranger video was pretty awesome. You CAN still rock in America!

    Why was their drummer wearing a dashiki? Why do I know that guitar player is named Brad Gillis?

    Scalzi should have to wear Jack Blades’ incredible shoulder pad jacket for a day atop his night ranger shirt. I’m fairly sure it absorbs laser fire.

  10. Thank you for the complements, and while I appreciate the offer of an internet, I already waste enough time on the one I’ve got.

  11. I’m wondering why nobody came rushing into the office to rescue you from the attacking shirt. Were the screams of agony similar to your ‘normal’ working/writing noises?

  12. You know I’ve described you as “This generation’s Heinlein”? You know that? I’ve said that to my friends. To my loved ones. To people who care about me, and trust me to guide them through a hostile and uncertain world.

    And you pull shit like this.

    *pinches bridge of nose and sighs deeply*

  13. I also used to talk to Jeff Watson fairly frequently when he was endorsing a couple products of a company I worked for. Nice guy, and a heckuva guitar player.

  14. I don’t do photo shop. I have no talent in that department.
    Hey, John, that office chair looks just like the one I have! Did you get your at fry’s? My was a birthday gift. Sheer hell getting but I love my chair.

  15. There are so many things wrong with that vid. I don’t even know where to start. I’m so glad I didn’t hit puberty till after the 80’s.

  16. With the burning surfboard in the background, makes ya wonder if there is a Beach Boys tie in. :)

    (Yes I know what it is. Work with me people.)

  17. Damnit, John, I don’t have photoshop on my computer! The Iowa City floods conspired to shut down the library’s media center before I could [steal it] take full advantage of my grad school education…

    Newberry’s is pretty awesome, but I gotta love mensley @42’s contribution as well.

  18. “you don’t have to rely on me to send it, i.e., it will actually get there)”

    In Cowardly Lion voice: “ain’t it the truth?”

    Of course, I DO wish I had half your life, so I guess I’ll have another slice o’ cheese with my wine.

  19. Is anyone else getting, instead of a shoppable image, a screen requesting that they log in to Yahoo followed by a screen demanding that they create a Flickr account? My willingness to waste time in Photoshop on inanities is being eroded by the inanities encountered en route.

  20. It truly astounds me that, amidst all the foofooraw, one question has gone unasked:

    John, what was the nature of the bet between yourself and Bill Schafer which (presumptively) you lost that required your wearing of the N.R. shirt for a day?

    Curious in CA,
    Chris

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