Hardcore happy hour is now in session. Please take an axe to your seat and set it on fire. Then shoot your professor (which would be me for the next five minutes or so) in the head and drink his blood while shouting incantations for the devil into the thick smoke.

Don’t you love the stereotypical view of heavy metal music? It always seems to revolve around long-haired devil worshippers wearing black leather jackets and unleashing anarchy upon the world. These pawns of Satan love to drink hard liquor, carry chains to beat people to death and do excessive amounts of drugs (especially crank and pot).

Well, I’ve been a “headbanger” since elementary school and I can tell you that these stereotypes aren’t necessarily true. My friends and I don’t worship Satan (hell, most of us don’t even believe in God), we don’t drink blood, we don’t sacrifice animals and we don’t even wear leather (I’ve always been partial to tie-dye myself).

In elementary school we were constantly made fun of because our musical tastes included Metallica (this was way back before the black album — after that they became pansies), Megadeth, Slayer, Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden. We all had hair that hung past our shoulders, so we were called little girls.

But we always got even with our peers for calling us little girls. Whether it was beating the snot out of them after school, stealing their stuff or trashing their houses, we always made them regret the things they said.

Things changed when I finally got to high school. I still listened to a lot of heavy metal, but my musical tastes broadened to include jazz, Motown, alternative, rap, classical and the “golden oldies.” But most of my friends remained pretty narrow-minded when it came to music. They wanted to bang their heads and that was it.

I knew somebody in high school that was pretty much insane. His name was Pat, and he was known to be totally out of his mind. He had hair that hung down to his butt, long black hair that was never washed. He always wore a beat-up black leather jacket that had rusty chains hanging all over it.

His greatest accomplishment in high school was failing enough classes to earn a .666 grade point average. He thought that was really cool — he loved to dance with the beast. He got into a lot of trouble in high school for sacrificing animals and smearing their blood on the school’s walls. That led to his expulsion.

Things only got worse for Pat after that. He was arrested for coming back to the school with a rifle (he was planning on shooting the principal). As a result of that incident, he was sent to juvenile hall for a year. He broke out after two months.

He was arrested in a cemetery and charged with an assortment of things including escaping the juvie, possession of crank, possession of paraphernalia and possession of a stolen firearm. But the biggest charge (and not the least surprising) was for the perverted things he was doing in the resting place of the dead.

Apparently (according to what Pat’s mother told me) he was in the cemetery breaking into mausoleums. He broke into a newer one and supposedly (and this is really sick, so turn away now if you are squeamish) made love to the dead person’s skull.

Fortunately, this freak of nature is now in prison. There is no better place he could be, other than an electric chair. I turned on the news about six months ago and saw him getting busted by the Drug Enforcement Agency. He had turned a hotel room into a meth lab and got caught.

Pat is the only person I have ever known in my life who fit the heavy metal stereotype. But I’m positive there are more of them out there.

But these sideshow attractions aren’t really the norm. They are the exception. Most of the “headbangers” you will ever meet will be nice people.

They might scare you with their long hair and black leather jackets, if they have them. But don’t let their looks fool you. They are people just like you are. They are not the offspring of Satan (as most preachers and other perverts of God would have you believe). More than likely, they are educated, well-mannered and hate the sight of blood (especially their own).

So, the next time you see a “headbanger” like me walking down the street, smile and say hello. And the next time you meet somebody who claims to be a “headbanger” because they liked the last three Metallica albums, laugh in their face and tell them to fuck off.

Real “headbangers” don’t like that crap.

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Ben Jones is a sophomore in English from Des Moines.