With every time I come across something by Tool, I grow more and more irritated by Maynard's intolerably obnoxious attitude. Consider the way the man wants to have his cake and eat it too. On one hand, we're clearly to know that not only is he a Suffering Artist, but also a Profound Thinker as well. We are reminded of both many, many, many times - of the former by his hideously mangled screams, and of the latter by the ponderous liner notes, the formless videos, and the equally formless sludge of the music. Apocalyptic visions, tales of use and abuse, talk of "healing" and "salvation" are all de rigueur, and of course, all the faux-mysticism, pseudo-philosophy, and sundry babble are all as vague as possible. On the other hand, Maynard refuses to commit to this course, and holds himself carefully aloof from it with devices that are grating in their dishonesty. We're told as much in the asininely titled "Hooker With A Penis" - if we're dumb enough to, heaven forfend, call him on his frankly ludicrous philosopher-king pretensions, well, that's our own fault for not being cool enough to Get It, because Maynard is, you see, also a Very Clever Fellow, and can ceaselessly abuse the concept of irony in order to keep himself at arm's length from his own spoutings. Similar is "The Balls Of Satan," yet another Witty Ironic Joke For Those Intelligent Enough To Understand It. Except the problem is that the irony is wretchedly illusive, as indeed is the entire album.