There was a time when cats and rock stars had almost nothing in common, but the 90s, and the faddish popularity of handheld laser pointers it would bring, changed all that. There's nothing my cat loves to hate more than that glowing red laser dot: she'll drop everything to pounce on it, chasing it over couches and up walls, transforming her from a calm little island of purring Zen to a predatory killing machine with the click of a button. For instance:

The same can be said for rock stars, who at the click of a laser pen will readily stop the show, kill the mood and focus their own red-hot beam of hatred right back at the pointer ("I'll point that thing right up your a%$!" is a common threat.) Watch as KISS' Paul Stanley goes totally feral on a laser-wielding audience member (some NSFW taunts ensue):

Another interesting parallel is the way a laser proves irresistible to cats and rock stars both; like chum in a shark tank, lasers focus the attention like nothing else -- they can't help but take the bait. Here's a diabetes-inducingly cute example:

Similarly, watch as Megadeth's Dave Mustaine predictably takes the laser bait (and issues forth a few NSFW remarks about the laser wielder's sex organs):

You can't pounce on the laser. You can't kill it. Sticking them up your fans' bums won't stop someone else from bringing one to your concert. Eventually, both cats and rock stars grasp the futility of raging against the laser; the cat will give up and walk away, frustrated. The rock star, though, has a more interesting solution. Take, for instance, The Flaming Lips' answer to the pointer problem: rather than trying to enforce a yet more rigorous, cavity-searching ban on them at their 2007 Bonnaroo gig, they came up with a novel solution -- give everyone in the audience a pointer, and make it part of the show. Ever wondered what 10,000 laser pointers look like?

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