Friday, July 23, 2004
today's recommended listening
I don't know how long this has been up, but there's a new Comets on Fire song at Sub Pop's website. Their 2002 album, Field Recordings from the Sun, was one of the greatest, heaviest rock records of recent vintage. It's not heavy in a Sabbath way, really, but more like Oneida or Acid Mothers Temple. Somebody somewhere once wrote that ELO is what the Beatles would have sounded like if they lived on a spaceship. Comets on Fire is what Deep Purple would have sounded like if they lived inside a black hole.
"The Antlers of the Midnight Sun" is the first single from their Sub Pop debut, and it sounds as if moving to a bigger label hasn't smoothed out their sound one bit. Here's hoping they can keep up the good work.
I don't know how long this has been up, but there's a new Comets on Fire song at Sub Pop's website. Their 2002 album, Field Recordings from the Sun, was one of the greatest, heaviest rock records of recent vintage. It's not heavy in a Sabbath way, really, but more like Oneida or Acid Mothers Temple. Somebody somewhere once wrote that ELO is what the Beatles would have sounded like if they lived on a spaceship. Comets on Fire is what Deep Purple would have sounded like if they lived inside a black hole.
"The Antlers of the Midnight Sun" is the first single from their Sub Pop debut, and it sounds as if moving to a bigger label hasn't smoothed out their sound one bit. Here's hoping they can keep up the good work.
I fully expect Atlanta to get hit with a million billion nukes next week
The main reason we scheduled our wedding showers for this final week of July was to avoid the DNC dementia up here. Most of that decision is based on the stories of complete immaneuverability that have been trumpeted on the front of the Herald every day since February. Part of it, though, is due to our own fears of being blown half the fuck to hell. Call us silly, but we dislike terrorism, especially when we believe we might be among those most directly terrorized. Upon closer inspection, our rationale isn’t too tight, however. Why would any serious and committed professional terrorist try to strike where an attack is most expected? Boston’s already starting to get locked up as tightly as Snake Plissken’s Manhattan. Everybody has been afraid and half-expectant of an attack during the convention for months. Security and suspicions are both amazingly high right now, which should both complicate the ability to commit nefarious deeds and also diminish the actual terror that will ensue the next time America does get attacked. It makes more sense to blow up Atlanta or Kansas City or San Francisco or Seattle next week than Boston. In fact, during the convention, Boston will probably be the safest city in America.
I know a lot of people have been expressing similar thoughts lately, and I know that there would be a great deal of psychological benefit to terrorists worldwide if some of their brethren were capable of slipping something through our most extreme and sincere security efforts. It just seems unusual to me to expect a terrorist to strike when it's most expected. If there is to be an attack in Boston, watch it happen the day after the convention leaves town.
The main reason we scheduled our wedding showers for this final week of July was to avoid the DNC dementia up here. Most of that decision is based on the stories of complete immaneuverability that have been trumpeted on the front of the Herald every day since February. Part of it, though, is due to our own fears of being blown half the fuck to hell. Call us silly, but we dislike terrorism, especially when we believe we might be among those most directly terrorized. Upon closer inspection, our rationale isn’t too tight, however. Why would any serious and committed professional terrorist try to strike where an attack is most expected? Boston’s already starting to get locked up as tightly as Snake Plissken’s Manhattan. Everybody has been afraid and half-expectant of an attack during the convention for months. Security and suspicions are both amazingly high right now, which should both complicate the ability to commit nefarious deeds and also diminish the actual terror that will ensue the next time America does get attacked. It makes more sense to blow up Atlanta or Kansas City or San Francisco or Seattle next week than Boston. In fact, during the convention, Boston will probably be the safest city in America.
I know a lot of people have been expressing similar thoughts lately, and I know that there would be a great deal of psychological benefit to terrorists worldwide if some of their brethren were capable of slipping something through our most extreme and sincere security efforts. It just seems unusual to me to expect a terrorist to strike when it's most expected. If there is to be an attack in Boston, watch it happen the day after the convention leaves town.
The Awesome Destiny to Which I Aspire
24 hours from now I’ll be on my way back to Georgia. There is much I have to do there, and unfortunately my time shall be limited. I will have to perform several tasks at once if I am to accomplish all my goals. I will have to make time for my family and my friends and my fiance’s family and the Cyclorama. I plan on punching Saxby Chambliss in the cancer while recording our next rock album. I intend to get divorced in a Waffle House. I hope to do the Dirty Bird on top of Stone Mountain while eating Chick-Fil-A. I must taste cake and wear clothes. But most of all, I will spend countless hours sitting in a motionless car while sweating profusely and listening to Z93. Hopefully I'll be able to fulfill all this in one short week. I anticipate my homecoming, and all the memories that it shall reignite.
24 hours from now I’ll be on my way back to Georgia. There is much I have to do there, and unfortunately my time shall be limited. I will have to perform several tasks at once if I am to accomplish all my goals. I will have to make time for my family and my friends and my fiance’s family and the Cyclorama. I plan on punching Saxby Chambliss in the cancer while recording our next rock album. I intend to get divorced in a Waffle House. I hope to do the Dirty Bird on top of Stone Mountain while eating Chick-Fil-A. I must taste cake and wear clothes. But most of all, I will spend countless hours sitting in a motionless car while sweating profusely and listening to Z93. Hopefully I'll be able to fulfill all this in one short week. I anticipate my homecoming, and all the memories that it shall reignite.
Thursday, July 22, 2004
Thursday, July 15, 2004
Let Me Recommend Something (and/or Some Things)
Lately some fantastic movies from years gone by have been getting released on DVD for the very first time. In addition to the 1980 megaclassic Midnight Madness (a brief conversation about which you can read at Big Gray's weblog), an absolutely stupendous film called The President's Analyst started popping up in stores a few weeks ago. If you like absurdist hippie psychoanalytic conspiracy comedy-thriller satires, you might like this movie. If you like making fun of the '60's and all the bullshit what that entails, you might like this movie even more. It's got James Coburn, who was always never less than 1000% man, and also Severn Darden, who was some bigwig in Second City back in the '50's and '60's, and who helped create the standard improv format that was once unique and innovative but has now been completely stripped of all humor and life. But so it's a hell of a flick, easily one of the top 4,000 or so movies ever made. I recommend it as heartily as I recommend eating peanut butter sandwiches when drunk and lonely on a Thursday evening. It WILL invigorate you.
Lately some fantastic movies from years gone by have been getting released on DVD for the very first time. In addition to the 1980 megaclassic Midnight Madness (a brief conversation about which you can read at Big Gray's weblog), an absolutely stupendous film called The President's Analyst started popping up in stores a few weeks ago. If you like absurdist hippie psychoanalytic conspiracy comedy-thriller satires, you might like this movie. If you like making fun of the '60's and all the bullshit what that entails, you might like this movie even more. It's got James Coburn, who was always never less than 1000% man, and also Severn Darden, who was some bigwig in Second City back in the '50's and '60's, and who helped create the standard improv format that was once unique and innovative but has now been completely stripped of all humor and life. But so it's a hell of a flick, easily one of the top 4,000 or so movies ever made. I recommend it as heartily as I recommend eating peanut butter sandwiches when drunk and lonely on a Thursday evening. It WILL invigorate you.
Wednesday, July 14, 2004
Bill Simmons is Always Right
ESPN's best writer has a great article about our idol, Shaq. Everybody should go read it now.
"Maybe we were insulted as basketball fans, but this was also the one quality that made him stand out over everyone else: This is a good guy. He takes care of his family, looks out for his friends, never stops having fun. He dabbles in movies, music, TV, even comedy roasts. He figured out how to handle the media early in his career -- mumble through your answers, use intimidation when necessary; and eventually, everyone will leave you alone. I think he's one of the smartest athletes in any sport. Seriously. Who leads a better life than him? What team athlete makes more money than him? Who balanced the characters of Public Superstar and Private Superstar more brilliantly than him? We don't know ANYTHING about him, yet we feel like we do. And he likes it that way."
ESPN's best writer has a great article about our idol, Shaq. Everybody should go read it now.
"Maybe we were insulted as basketball fans, but this was also the one quality that made him stand out over everyone else: This is a good guy. He takes care of his family, looks out for his friends, never stops having fun. He dabbles in movies, music, TV, even comedy roasts. He figured out how to handle the media early in his career -- mumble through your answers, use intimidation when necessary; and eventually, everyone will leave you alone. I think he's one of the smartest athletes in any sport. Seriously. Who leads a better life than him? What team athlete makes more money than him? Who balanced the characters of Public Superstar and Private Superstar more brilliantly than him? We don't know ANYTHING about him, yet we feel like we do. And he likes it that way."
Content-Free Movie Reviews
Anchorman: good.
Spiderman 2: very good.
Mystic River: bad.
Miracle: okay.
Monster: eh.
Super Size Me: good.
City of God: very good.
Sleepover: Best Picture.
The Station Agent: good.
Battle of the Badass Rockers: eh.
President Rambo: good.
Anchorman: good.
Spiderman 2: very good.
Mystic River: bad.
Miracle: okay.
Monster: eh.
Super Size Me: good.
City of God: very good.
Sleepover: Best Picture.
The Station Agent: good.
Battle of the Badass Rockers: eh.
President Rambo: good.
Stupidest Thing I've Heard in a While
Rumors are that the Sox will send Nomar to the Cubs for prospects, and then send the prospects to Arizona for Randy Johnson. As Rotoworld points out, that would almost guarantee Pedro landing in a Yankees uniform next year. If they basically give up both of their future Hall of Famers for a year and a half of a 40-year-old injury risk, then this team deserves whatever misery comes their way.
And of course, according to the poll at the Globe's website, the fans are solidly behind this trade.
Rumors are that the Sox will send Nomar to the Cubs for prospects, and then send the prospects to Arizona for Randy Johnson. As Rotoworld points out, that would almost guarantee Pedro landing in a Yankees uniform next year. If they basically give up both of their future Hall of Famers for a year and a half of a 40-year-old injury risk, then this team deserves whatever misery comes their way.
And of course, according to the poll at the Globe's website, the fans are solidly behind this trade.
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
Best Name Encountered At Work
So I'm what they call a "Member Enrollment Associate" at Blue Cross Blue Shield of Massachusetts. Basically I add or delete accounts when the subscriber gets hired, fired, or dies. I would call it my day job, if I ever did anything at night other than sit around and drink beer while watching tapes of early '90's MTV. Anyway, I have to look at hundreds of different names a day due to this job, and most of them are pretty boring and typical. Every once in a while, however, an amazing name will come across and force me to pause and exalt in its brilliance. The latest such example is one of the greatest names I have ever come across: Ervelance E. Exantus. This might just be both the Flair-Steamboat and the '91 World Series of names, combined into one undeniably astounding sobriquet.
So I'm what they call a "Member Enrollment Associate" at Blue Cross Blue Shield of Massachusetts. Basically I add or delete accounts when the subscriber gets hired, fired, or dies. I would call it my day job, if I ever did anything at night other than sit around and drink beer while watching tapes of early '90's MTV. Anyway, I have to look at hundreds of different names a day due to this job, and most of them are pretty boring and typical. Every once in a while, however, an amazing name will come across and force me to pause and exalt in its brilliance. The latest such example is one of the greatest names I have ever come across: Ervelance E. Exantus. This might just be both the Flair-Steamboat and the '91 World Series of names, combined into one undeniably astounding sobriquet.
Thursday, July 08, 2004
They Have No-one to Blame but Themselves
John Donovan has an article about the Red Sox up at Sports Illustrated's site. After being up here for a year I can tell you that Red Sox fans are indeed the most ridiculously anxious and obsessive sports fans I've ever encountered. The only players spared the locals' hatred after last week's 1-5 swing against the Yankees and Atlanta were Manny, David Ortiz, and Curt Schilling. Everybody else could have gone to hell as far as the fans were concerned, especially Francona, Derek Lowe, and Nomar. I'm almost surprised no Sox has ever been killed by some overealous fan.
The Nomar situation is completely ridiculous. Nomar has every single right to be pissed at and apprehensive about this team's management. The conspiracy theories flying around up here, though, about Nomar faking his injury and not playing up to his level, are pathetic. The fact that the fans could so easily turn on their best and most favorite player in a generation or two proves that they don't love the players or the history of the team. The emotion wasted on this ballclub is solely about Boston's own depressing inferiority complex. If the Sox ever win the World Series the people of Boston could briefly believe that Boston is a world-class city without having to lie to themselves. A World Series victory would momentarily justify this town's amazingly inflated self-image. The locals could cease to deny to themselves that Boston is a dying provincial city whose importance and significance peaked over 200 years ago and that is only still kept afloat by higher education and tourism. Since the Revolution the entire history of Boston can be summed up as a futile attempt to keep up with New York.
I really do like this city. It's a beautiful town with amazing history and impressive culture, and I've never encountered another city that's as easy to get around in. I will even acknowledge that it's better than Atlanta in almost every possible way (although Atlanta will always be the city I was born in). But the truth is that Boston is the David Brent of cities, and that combination of desperate, pathetic, neediness and baseless arrogance makes it really hard to love this town.
John Donovan has an article about the Red Sox up at Sports Illustrated's site. After being up here for a year I can tell you that Red Sox fans are indeed the most ridiculously anxious and obsessive sports fans I've ever encountered. The only players spared the locals' hatred after last week's 1-5 swing against the Yankees and Atlanta were Manny, David Ortiz, and Curt Schilling. Everybody else could have gone to hell as far as the fans were concerned, especially Francona, Derek Lowe, and Nomar. I'm almost surprised no Sox has ever been killed by some overealous fan.
The Nomar situation is completely ridiculous. Nomar has every single right to be pissed at and apprehensive about this team's management. The conspiracy theories flying around up here, though, about Nomar faking his injury and not playing up to his level, are pathetic. The fact that the fans could so easily turn on their best and most favorite player in a generation or two proves that they don't love the players or the history of the team. The emotion wasted on this ballclub is solely about Boston's own depressing inferiority complex. If the Sox ever win the World Series the people of Boston could briefly believe that Boston is a world-class city without having to lie to themselves. A World Series victory would momentarily justify this town's amazingly inflated self-image. The locals could cease to deny to themselves that Boston is a dying provincial city whose importance and significance peaked over 200 years ago and that is only still kept afloat by higher education and tourism. Since the Revolution the entire history of Boston can be summed up as a futile attempt to keep up with New York.
I really do like this city. It's a beautiful town with amazing history and impressive culture, and I've never encountered another city that's as easy to get around in. I will even acknowledge that it's better than Atlanta in almost every possible way (although Atlanta will always be the city I was born in). But the truth is that Boston is the David Brent of cities, and that combination of desperate, pathetic, neediness and baseless arrogance makes it really hard to love this town.
sponge cover band
So what groups are least deserving of a cover band?
There have been a spate of cover bands popping up around here, earnest young hipsters doing the Smiths and the Cure and Yo la Tengo. I'd like to get in on the action with a cover band that's just wrong, that has no reason to exist.
Any ideas?
I'm not talking wacky, funny, or goofy - I'm looking to create something utterly unnecessary. Inessential, as the Onion would say.
So what groups are least deserving of a cover band?
There have been a spate of cover bands popping up around here, earnest young hipsters doing the Smiths and the Cure and Yo la Tengo. I'd like to get in on the action with a cover band that's just wrong, that has no reason to exist.
Any ideas?
I'm not talking wacky, funny, or goofy - I'm looking to create something utterly unnecessary. Inessential, as the Onion would say.
So GBV begins their "farewell" tour in Boston on September 9th. Crog is already making plans to fly up for this shit, and then follow the band down to Philly and maybe DC that weekend. Anybody else interested?
Tuesday, July 06, 2004
Hair Police
The worst hair in Boston resides in a duplex on Allston Street. Every time I drive by this house I see a man with the ugliest white-guy dreadlocks standing around outside. This dude’s almost always shirtless or in a sleeveless tee, showing off some hideous tattoo around his upper left arm. He looks like Lucas “Big Gray” Jensen, but surlier, and with Bo Derek cornrows. White dreadlocks are almost always a bad idea, of course, but this guy takes them into an entirely new realm of terror. They’re the skinniest, least substantial, most pathetic dreadlocks I’ve ever seen. The guy might be alright – he’s always gardening, it seems, which is pretty cool (as long as it’s not grass) – but as long as he’s got that pile of spaghetti on his head I don’t think I could ever relate to him as a normal human being. It’s like when you meet a blind person or a midget, and you feel immense pressure to not talk about the only thing you can think of and the only thing you want to talk about; if I ever met this dude, all I would want to talk about is his hair, and why it is so disgusting, and how it looks like he’s wearing a halo of used condoms, and if that's the image he wants to send to the world around him. I don’t think I could ever go camping with him.
The worst hair in Boston resides in a duplex on Allston Street. Every time I drive by this house I see a man with the ugliest white-guy dreadlocks standing around outside. This dude’s almost always shirtless or in a sleeveless tee, showing off some hideous tattoo around his upper left arm. He looks like Lucas “Big Gray” Jensen, but surlier, and with Bo Derek cornrows. White dreadlocks are almost always a bad idea, of course, but this guy takes them into an entirely new realm of terror. They’re the skinniest, least substantial, most pathetic dreadlocks I’ve ever seen. The guy might be alright – he’s always gardening, it seems, which is pretty cool (as long as it’s not grass) – but as long as he’s got that pile of spaghetti on his head I don’t think I could ever relate to him as a normal human being. It’s like when you meet a blind person or a midget, and you feel immense pressure to not talk about the only thing you can think of and the only thing you want to talk about; if I ever met this dude, all I would want to talk about is his hair, and why it is so disgusting, and how it looks like he’s wearing a halo of used condoms, and if that's the image he wants to send to the world around him. I don’t think I could ever go camping with him.
Thursday, July 01, 2004
I finally watched City of God last night.
It was good, mostly, but I had one major problem with it: it wasn’t nearly American enough. The movie fails to acknowledge that America is the greatest place to ever exist. I didn’t see a single American flag, there were no references to the problems that face America today, and nobody talked about how great America was. I don’t think America was even mentioned once in the entire film. I suppose the filmmakers had the right to do what they wanted, but I find it unbelievable that they failed and/or refused to talk about how awesome America is. They might have some talent, but obviously they must not love our country as much as every right-minded individual should. I mean, not showing us how amazing America is even once, in a movie that I, and many other Americans, would watch for the first time the week before the Fourth of July? What sort of ignorant, anti-American assholes made this movie, anyhow?
It was good, mostly, but I had one major problem with it: it wasn’t nearly American enough. The movie fails to acknowledge that America is the greatest place to ever exist. I didn’t see a single American flag, there were no references to the problems that face America today, and nobody talked about how great America was. I don’t think America was even mentioned once in the entire film. I suppose the filmmakers had the right to do what they wanted, but I find it unbelievable that they failed and/or refused to talk about how awesome America is. They might have some talent, but obviously they must not love our country as much as every right-minded individual should. I mean, not showing us how amazing America is even once, in a movie that I, and many other Americans, would watch for the first time the week before the Fourth of July? What sort of ignorant, anti-American assholes made this movie, anyhow?
