James Stephen Hart was brought into this world August 26th, 1979, which next year will be 30 years ago. Over halfway to 50, Jamesy! His middle name is spelled S-T-E-P-H-E-N, rather than the normal, phonetic way with a V. That is a mistake I will never make again. James Stephen Hart was created in a lab in the heart (or Hart!) of Harlem, NY, by then-renowned scientists Mick Morris (who, at this time, had already reached the height of his scientific career at the tender age of 33) and the late Anna Nicole Smith. This unbeatable combination of minds mixed sugar, spice, and everything nice and let it ferment and our dear boy came into existence. Sugar, spice, and everything nice has always been said to compose a girl, and this time is no exception.
There is not too much for a little boy to do in Harlem. Nothing safe, anyway. So even from the time he sprang from the womb...er, petri dish...James focused entirely on becoming a musical genius, since he knew instantly that he was too post-hardcore for the voguing scene. Although he was an extra in Paris Is Burning. So James just spent all day lying on his back in his playpen, reaching up and spinning around his mobile complete with dangling blood, skulls, and death. Because all of these things are hardcore, and not only that, but they are also aware of their hardcoreness. Thus, post-hardcore, like post-modern. And subsequently, very pretentious and overrated and a concept of which no one really understands the definition. And as he stared at these tiny, colourful, inflatable symbols of his future, he absorbed it all through osmosis and heeded the wisdom whispered gently upon his ear by the adoring wind and became the total badass we know and love today.
The band Eighteen Visions is the only thing that James Hart has done in his life that can even remotely be considered a success. Of course, it had to come to an end, but not after lasting about ten years longer than anyone ever thought it would, given James' obsession with failure. They had some good songs, some great ones, and some that were disappointments in general but that is not to say that he didn't try. A for effort, anyway.
Nothing worth mentioning.
The first 28 years of James' life were spent alone in a corner. Not because he was afraid of other people, or shy, or emo, but rather because the chemical composition of his being is very similar to fungus that grows in mildewy rooms. He felt the need to be amongst his own kind so he never left the particularly moist corner of the basement where the mold was running rampant most heavily.
That and Mick and Anna Nicole chained him to the wall to toughen him up and teach him discipline. All innocent, though. But after 28 years he was post-hardcore enough to bust through the chains and break out into the free wild...free balling. He stumbled upon a stray girl named Mila Kunis and proceeded to win her over with a smooth pickup line about In N Out grilled cheese. A few short days later, he ripped her heart out by disappearing and whisking himself and the remaining 1/2 of his creators around the world. Mila was obviously upset, so while pet-sitting, she, as anyone would, decided to drop his heart into a vat of boiling tears by filling his impressionable mind with illusions of his cat maimed or incinerated or lost. But he came back, eventually, and she was so mad that she went back home to Ukraine to see her family. But then she came back eventually, and he had her babies, but not before telling her that he couldn't live without her. The two of them had a shotgun wedding, luckily before James was beginning to show. The best man was a monkey dressed up as Mick. The happy couple seemed to have everything together, and received more press coverage than Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes. James and Mila were certainly more interesting.
Another floundering musician who met an untimely end, James had made the conscious decision to be straight edge and thus abstain from anything fun or enjoyable. He and Mila got into a fight over God even knows what, they were always bickering. While James was off on one of his little escapades to find himself, Mila broke into his hotel room and injected 349 CC's of absinthe into his veins and made it look like intravenous alcohol poisoning. But James was sXe...and sexy. So her story didn't hold up too well in court, and unlike her idol Courtney Love, she was forced to spend 25 to life in a cramped cell with her hair buzzed and wearing army pants and Doc Martens. To end on a happy note, Mila did finally find post-post-hardcore love...her cellmate Bernice. The two of them were entangled in a lover's embrace while James' viking funeral took place. His body was sent out to sea in a wooden casket, then lit on fire and burning over the water until there was nothing left. Legend holds it that shortly thereafter, James' ashes materialized together and began to walk the earth in the form of Miley Cyrus.