Well, it's been 3 weeks since I last posted on here, and not much has changed besides my mood. I've been feeling (and here comes some pathetic emo-sounding angst) kinda down the last few days. I'm not sure why; probably a chemical imbalance. And watching "Hookers at the Point" on HBO for the umpteenth time isn't helping. There's something sad about seeing a girl-who stopped stripping because she wanted to maintain some shred of dignity (she didn't want to "drop her bottoms")-become a crack-whore. I should crack a book or something.

Anyway, it hasn't been a series of down notes, like The Empire Strikes Back (c'mon, name the movie). I've picked up some great music (including the new Sonic Youth album, which was the subject of my last post) and a couple of books I'm excited about reading (or have started in the case of "Dance of Days"). But something is missing.

Finally, let me wrap up this brief post by giving a shout to my girl Monica, who moved back to New Jersey today. Remember, it's only for a little while until things get better. You'll be back in L.A. in no time, kid.

ClearChannelSucks.org :: How many ways has Clear Channel sucked today?

What a great site. Well worth breaking my lord knows how long silence on this damn blog. I came across this site at Scrubbles. Anybody who would like to get more information about the sad state of current mainstream media would do well to look here.

There was a time when I, like many neophyte indie rock kids, was a die-hard, up-to-the-minute, "I *HEART* KIM", Sonic Youth fan. I was in the newsgroups, I was scouring the web for fan pages, yadda cetera. Somewhere along the line, however, I lost touch with the band. Maybe it's because my own sonic palette had expanded (thanks in large part to the band's own name dropping of bands they like and toured with), or maybe I wasn't maturing at the same pace as they were. (And that's not a dig at the band's age.) For whatever reason, my zeal for the band waned until they were just another band in my collection. (Though, they are still one of the few must see bands for me these days.) NYC Ghosts & Flowers didn't help matters much, as the band for the first time (IMO, anyway) came off as self-consciously avant-garde. It's not like I didn't like the album, but I have to say, it doesn't make it into the CD player much.

Then tonight, I decided to pop in Daydream Nation. And while listening to it, I moseyed over to the band's website to read the latest on the band. In the news section was a download of the first track off of their upcoming album (entitled Murray Street) called "The Empty Page." Curious, I downloaded the track, wondering if this would be a deeper foray into the avant-garde, especially since Jim O'Rourke had become a full-time member. To my surprise, the track was one of the most straightforward of their career. It was mid-tempo, with minimum noise, and Thurston doing more singing than sing-speaking. The song even had a kind of classic rock ending. (Don't ask me what that means; I can't really explain it myself.) It reminded me of Pavement's "Major Leagues," though it sounded nothing like it: it was the sound of a band just sitting back and playing it straight (as straight as an avant-garde leaning band can play it). I don't know if the rest of the album sounds like this--I have a feeling it probably won't, at least not overall, as the opening track felt like it was about to launch the entire album into a completely different orbit.

This isn't really an endorsement of the song on my part; all in all, it wasn't anything exciting. And I'm not bemoaning the fact that this isn't "Teenage Riot" or "Schizophrenia." I think of all the fans in the world, Sonic Youth fans may be the most willing to embrace a band's new direction. I'm just saying that the song doesn't have the visceral impact that so many of their classic album openers have. But there's something about the song that now has me anticipating listening to the tracks that follow it. Weird, eh?

(WORST...ENDING...EVER.)

Fuck these clowns.

First, they make a name for themselves by blatantly ripping off The Beatles (and did a shitty job, I might add), now they want to chase The Osbournes? Let's see...Beatles, Sabbath...throw in a stab at Led Zeppelin mimicry and they'll have hit the holy trilogy of rock music. Maybe the brothers Gallagher can cut an album with Steve Albini behind the board and call it "Walking Into a Bank Vault" or "We're Rock Icons, Too!" It would be worth it if Albini snapped at the end and kicked them both squah in the nuts. (Via Stevie Nixed)

Steve Albini Talks of Food

For some reason, I'm looking up Steve Albini interviews on the web. I guess it's because I'm listening to The Breeders Pod. Who knows? Anyway, I came across this gem of an interview. I'm not sure how it was conducted; I'm assuming via e-mail, as he takes time to criticize (hilariously, I might add) the poor grammar and spelling in a couple of places. An enjoyable read for indie scenesters and foodies alike.

O: What's your favorite body part on a woman?

SA: Um, there's a tendon that goes between the thigh and the beaver on a young lady. That particular area has always been of great appeal to me.

A chuckle-inducing interview with noise-rock icron and producer--I mean, engineer--Steve Albini. Funnier if you know the reputation the man has, but still good on a "look what they're doing to this guy" level as well.

BEST. EPISODE. EVER.

So, I saw Episode II: Attack of the Clones this past weekend. No, it wasn't the best episode ever. I was just messing with ya. But it was not nearly as brutal as critics would have you believe. Unless, of course, you cut out the last twenty-odd minutes of the movie. Then its pretty craptacular fare. Maybe not the blight on cinematic history that some of the more "learned" critical poseurs are making it out to be, but it was definitely not "The Empire Strikes Back."

The worst part of the movie was the love story. Now, I am not averse to romance. But a romantic angle inside of a sci-fi/action film can go wrong in so many ways, and this one did. Most of it can be chalked up to Hayden Christiansen's terrible, terrible acting (Jake Lloyd was better!) and Lucas' cliche addled romantic dialogue. Whatever can't be pinned on this year's model of Anakin Skywalker can be pinned on how forced it all came off in the context of the movie.

Now, there were some other cheesy, should have been put on the editing floor moments, but to point them all out (deathsticks? c'mon!) would be nitpicking. However, the movie was made in a big way at the end. So as not to spoil your enjoyment of the movie, I will sum it up thusly:

Yoda.

Lightsaber.

Kick ass!

This really was worth my nine bucks. The rest of the movie could have been all Jar Jar (who, thank the maker, had very little screen time in this episode) and I still would have left the theater happy if the last part of the movie remained the same. This is also what will get the die-hard fans going back, much to the chagrin of the cinema pundits. It's funny, a number of reviews seem to decry the fact that these movies don't live up to the standards of the originals. But the fact is, they're the same: cheesy dialogue, intriguing characters, great special effects, and the good guys win in the end. (Usually.) I think people are just disappointed that a part of their childhood is being pulled out of the rusty trunk that is hidden in the corner of their nostalgia basement (beneath their memories of Lincoln Logs and Lite Brite) and given to a new generation of moviegoers, who they probably do not deem worthy. And while I agree with them in principle, the fact remains that most of the people crying foul on the new movies lost their sense of wonder a long time ago, and are too busy quaffing latte's for their opinions to be relevant to anybody but themselves and their editors.

Anyway...sorry about the long-winded rant. Hey! Speaking of cultural irrelevance, tonight is the series finale of Ally McBeal. It's about fucking time.

But, I don't want to end this on a negative note, so one last item of business: Adult Swim is the funniest shit on tv. They ran the great "Welcome to Eltingville" pilot again last night, which of course if the creation of Evan Dorkin (who, along with Sarah Dyer, have their web presence at the very cool House of Fun). I really hope that the series gets picked up. If you saw it and would like to lend your support to the show, go here. Definitely check out Adult Swim when you get a chance, though.

Anyway, just an hour until the post-Judgment Day Raw, and I need to get my eat on. I'm going to try to update this a bit more regularly, as it turns out a couple of my favorite ladies actually check out the spot on occasion, and I'd hate to disappoint them.

Well, I'm about seven hours from seeing Episode II: Attack of the Clones (worst...title...ever!) and something is bothering me. It's not the impending sense of dread that comes with preparing to endure Jar Jar Binks. And it's certainly not the letdown factor, as my hopes are much much lower after seeing The Phantom Menace. It's not even the possibility of having to suffer costumed fanatics (even though I secretly want to dress like Boba Fett). What is bothering me is the transparent zeal and giddy viciousness that is flooding the early reviews of the movie. I read the scathing criticisms and think "Jesus tap-dancing Christ, this has got to be the worse movie ever. Possibly even worse than Rocky IV." But there's something in the reviews that doesn't sit right. They all seem too well-prepared, as if these remarks were written before they even got to see the opening credits crawl. I get the feeling that these reviews were written months ago, then filtered endlessly until nothing is left but the most bile-filled prose imaginable. You'd think by reading the reviews that George Lucas himself was bending them over and boning them with a sandpaper condom. The hateful glee that saturates the pages is practically sliding off, blackening the fingers like the Devil's blood.

Now, I realize that they have a job to do. And I'm sure that the movie is not above being a steaming pile of shit. But where is the vindictiveness coming from? Are they pissed that people will go see this movie just because it's another Star Wars movie? Okay, fine, there's something wrong with blind allegiance to a brand. But you know, these are the same critics who never miss a new Hal Hartley film, for example, without giving it a second thought. (That's not a knock on Mr. Hartley, as he is one of my favorite directors.) It's the hypocrisy of it all: as if unquestioned devotion to a director simply because he's more of an indie "auteur" than a big "Hollywood director" is somehow noble. And you just know that these same critics, so hip and knowing are also trying to get on the guest list for the next Strokes show, because they saw them on M2 and think their sound is fresh. And besides, didn't Rolling Stone call them a hot new band? Fucking poseur critic assholes.

I'd like to close this little screed with something from the rant-meister himself: "The key thing to remember about all critics is that they remain dependent on the innovator, the person doing the real work of creating. And because they just sit on the sidelines of life, never the hunter, they are doomed to be forgotten."

So, to you critics out there who are trying to outshine your fellow critics in pissing on the latest Star Wars release because it's the in-thing to do, enjoy. But remember, you can count the number of critics whose body of work can genuinely called works of art on one hand and still have a thumb left to jam up your ass. Have fun on your way back to obscurity.

Obey Giant
Viva phenomenolgy! A cool (and fairly well-known) site. Naturally, the design is solid. Join in the phenomenon. Get your posse on!

Welcome to Ecstasky!
Now this is the only way to fly. This is an idea whose time has surely come. It doesn't mention price, though, I don't have quicktime, so one of the clips might mention this. At any rate, I'm sure it is well outside of the price range of your average Joe Planeticket traveler. Still, just goes to show that sex can be used anywhere for anything.

This is why you don't get a pony!
I'm sorry, I've been away all this time, and this is how I make my triumphant return: with beastiality! I only posted this because I thought it was funny they pixillated the horse's face. Now he may gallop about without gawkers saying, "there's the poor animal who was violated by that awful, awful man."

As always, the Sun gives us the real news.

R.I.P. Linda Lovelace
Not a tragedy, but it's certainly sad to see her pass away like this. I've not read her biography, but her story is familiar enough to both the pro-porn and the anti-porn groups in this country, that it's just not the kind of ending you would want for somebody who went through what she did. I'm sure there are people in the industry she helped break into the mainstream (with Deep Throat, which is one of the jewels in the porno triple crown, along with Behind the Green Door and The Devil in Miss Jones) who aren't too saddened to see her pass because of her campaigning against porn in her later years, but it's hard to deny the impact her life has had on modern social mores, even if its a bit tangential. A shame.

Okay, so it's been a few days since I updated this. I'm sure my many fans out there were unable to sleep due to this tragic turn of events. But, I'm back, and you can stop your crying.

Hey! Speaking of "Stop Your Crying," (I swear, I didn't plan this cheesy segue ahead of time), I saw Spiritualized this past weekend. They played with B.R.M.C., who thoroughly underwhelmed me. But Spiritualized rocked (as my townfolk say). For those Spiritualized fans out there, this is the set they played:

Electricity
Shine A Light
Electric Mainline
On Fire
Out of Sight
So Hot (Wash Away All of My Tears)
Walkin With Jesus
Medication
Take Your Time
Broken Heart
I Think I'm In Love
Don't Just Do Something (my favorite current Spiritualized song)
Come Together
Thing'll Never Be the Same
Lord, Can You Hear Me (this was the encore)

Also spent way too much time in front of the television watching the NFL Draft. (Go Dolphins!) It's a sickness, but dammit, I don't care. I looooooove football. (For best effect, think of Seann William Scott saying it as his character from Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back.)

The other high point of my weekend? WWF Backlash, which saw Hulkamania return to all its glory. That, my friends, is a shame. We can only hope it will be short-lived. Nothing personal against Hogan, but he just can't put on a good match anymore. But, the public wanted it, so there it is. It's too bad Paul Orndorff can't go full-on in the ring any more. I'd love to see Mr. Wonderful come back, just to feud with Hogan. They could start a whole "Seniors" division and let them battle it out in the middle of the card at house shows and on TV. I'd pay to see that. Nostalgia has its place, just not at the top of the card.

Strong Bad checks his e-mail

Brilliant. Strong Bad sounds vaguely like Triumph the Insult Comic Dog. Try out Some Kind of Robot for go-go hilarity! Thanks to Monica for passing this along to me.

The Art of the Mix
Found this site at Scrubbles. If you like making mixes like I do (and if you consider yourself a music snob who thinks it's your duty to spread the news on bands like Explosions in the Sky and The Bigger Lovers--like me--then you probably do), then this is a great site to get ideas.

And I'm back. Went home this past weekend for family birthdays. (Mom's is the 17th, sister's was the 9th, so I split the difference.) I tell you, the Eastern Shore of Maryland has nothing going on. My biggest thrill is probably ogling the hotties at the Annapolis Mall (which we almost always hit on the way there) like the lech that I am. Still, I never consider it a waste of time, because time with the family is always relaxing. Having the niece and nephew to play with is a bonus, too.

Anyway, while there, I saw a movie ("Changing Lanes"-not bad) and did a little shopping (I picked up Sleater-Kinney's "The Hot Rock" and "Age of the Sun" by the Sunshine Fix, both worthy additions to anybody's music collection). Good times.

Also, I would like to add that this year is the first year I got my taxes done before April 15th. I mailed them on April 2nd, by gum. God willing, I'll get them mailed out before April next year.

Semper fudge!

My friend Greg sent me this link once. Happened upon it again while paying a visit to Where Are My Pants?

...prounced 'fuckle.'

Monkey!
I have one rule of comedy: monkeys and midgets (yeah, yeah...little people) are always funny. I found this little gem while trying to find a screen grab of "Hail to the Chimp" from The Simpsons.

U.S. Drops Cats Into Belgium

"The U.S. continues to support the peace process between the Palestinians and the Israelis, and that is why we have been dropping cats into Belgium, and will continue dropping cats into Belgium, until all of Brussels is purring under a two-foot-deep blanket of cats."

Finally, some political maneuvering I can get behind. Teach those Belgians a lesson!

Today's phrase that pays: "In my day, five dollars would have been enough to soil a woman like that." -from Andy Richter Controls the Universe