6.13.2005

Gimme Reciprocity

I've been sucked in. Or shall I say I've been sucking the teat. Yesterday, I decided to obey my clogged sinus cavity and stay in. I didn't leave the house for anything. No brunch, no bike riding, no Arts Festival, no bar for Aaron's 30th (Thirty and Dirty).

I reclined and endured the pain in my head. HBO was my friend all day long. I didn't grow up with HBO or any other 'pay' cable channels, so I'm not familiar with this. This being the confusion you go through when you're constantly seeing different parts of a movie, but never the whole thing. Add onto that my odd attraction to certain films purely because of a cute girl, i.e. "Chasing Liberty" featuring Mandy Moore in a non-annoying role that doesn't involve singing.

Or "The Girl Next Door," which I probably would've gone to see at the theater, but I don't get out much to see films in actual theaters. Elisha Cuthbert. Strange, because I'm normally not into blondes. The sexuality of it all pulled me in, too. Plus Timothy Olyphant plays assholes too well, I was hooked in. Sort of like anything with Vince Vaughn. He's such a good asshole that you can't help watching the film. This actually was a pretty good film. You can't go wrong with three hot porn stars, three lucky high school guys, and an asshole like Olyphant. Especially when there's an actual storyline, and its not set up like porn where the plot is so very irrelevant. (I just realized that last week I got hooked into another film with Elisha Cuthbert: "Love Actually")

I'm pretty sure I watched most of "Head of State," featuring (and directed by) Chris Rock. I was confused at first, because it seemed serious, then it seemed like satire, I don't know, it all worked out in the end. Rock was elected president, blah, blah, blah.

Another interesting one was "Big Trouble." I think it came out in 2003. I probably would've gone right past it, but I saw Jason Lee. Being a slight fanboy for Kevin Smith films, I had to see what this was, because as I've stated before, I appreciate a good asshole on film, and Jason Lee always plays an asshole in Smith's films. Apparently, this one was based on a book by the satirical columnist Dave Barry. I've always liked Dave Barry. He's a little too tame at times, but fun nonetheless. There were so many freakin' stars in this film: Rene Russo, Dennis Farina, Tim Allen (okay, not much of a star), Stanley Tucci, Tom Sizemore, Andy Richter, Johnny Knoxville, Janeane Garofalo, Heavy D, Omar Epps, Patrick Warburton (Spoon!), and Zooey Deschanel. Okay, if I come across any film with Rene Russo, Dennis Farina, Stanley Tucci, Andy Richter, or Zooey Deschanel in it, I am paying attention. So, they had me, no real hook required. Just like any other film with too many stars in it, the whole thing kinda fell flat, but it was still entertaining.

I may have seen bits and pieces of three different "Six Feet Under" episodes, I wish I would've focused and watched each in their entirety. I love that show.

Then I saw two foreign films. One of them was "City of God." I didn't watch much of it, but I was intrigued, so I looked into it. Possibly, it was too much for me, I needed something lighter. This is a gritty film, very violent. To borrow from a reviewer on IMDB , this film could be subtitled "Grand Theft Auto: Sao Paolo." Except it actually takes place mostly in Cidade de Jesu, a slum of Rio de Janeiro. Interestingly, all of the actors were amateurs, taken mostly from Rio, and a few were from the City of God. The whole thing is about two men mostly. They're young gang members. One gets out of the Cidade de Jesu, and the other succumbs to it. It looked fascinating, but like I said, I wasn't in the mood for anything too serious at the time. Its HBO, I'm sure it'll be on again fifteen more times this week.

There was one more foreign film that I saw yesterday: "The Dreamers." With Comcast Digital Cable, there's a brief description at the bottom of your screen when going through the channels. I saw the name Bernardo Bertolucci ("Last Tango In Paris"), and I stopped. Then I saw that guy who played Tommy Gnosis in Hedwig & the Angry Inch, so I took a look. I started watching about a half hour into it, and I stopped long before it was done. I barely have an idea of what the hell was going on. Tommy Gnosis (Michael Pitt) was in Paris for some reason, I believe the setting was 1968. He somehow met a French author and his family and ends up staying with them. The author and his wife leave to go on holiday, and leave Pitt with their twin son and daughter. The siblings are very sexual and fanatical about old films. They act out scenes from old movies and then the we see the actual scenes from the movies. Eventually, the brother and sister talk Pitt into taking Isobel's (the sister) virginity while the brother watches. I lost interest soon after that. I think I just wasn't in the mood for it, but I definitely want to check it out if its on again this week. Maybe I can watch the whole thing, too.

That was my Sunday. A couch, an oscillating fan, several pints of Emer-Gen'C, a sinus cold, and HBO.


stop looking at me!

6.12.2005

A Staggering Work of Eccentric Fiction

My eyes follow the fuzzy white dot of light as it circles the room. Disco balls make everything better. Especially when the room is totally dark except for that mirror ball and the one lone spotlight hitting at just the right angle. I follow that dot around and around...waiting for it to twist up, then turn the other way.

The ball never stops, it just keeps twisting one way, then the other, over and over. Concentric circles of fuzzy white rings painting a dark room. Light trails in my vision without acid. Always has.


I stand there staring at the light, thinking about who I was two months ago. Since then, I've neglected cleaning the house and my bedroom, stopped trying to pay my bills on time, stopped attempting a sense of a normal life. Spending money I don't have, drinking beer that never stays cold, ignoring the pressure building against my skull. Somewhere on a wall, I'm immortalized until someone bores of the painting. That pudgy bearded face won't be there forever.

My friends say "don't worry, just focus on yourself, it'll work out." Right, I fucking hate where I'm at.

My job is easy, to say the least. I spend most of my time in the cubicle thinking about anything BUT video duplication and distribution. My clients think I'm some sort of miracle-worker when in fact, they're just idiots and can't (or won't) comprehend how I do what I do for them.

Depression doesn't worry me, I'm too good for that. Its the indifference. That's what scares me. Its the apathy, the distaste for stupidity that scares me. Banality will kill us all, I suppose. It furrows my brow, giving me a constant headache. I can't sleep at night without meditating (that's a 't', not a 'c', please take note). Introspection is killing me softly. No, that's not right, its torturing me, there's nothing soft about it.

I'm so tired of fighting for a lost cause, i.e. love. I suppose that can be taken in a number of ways. My way involves a lack of balance. There's no balance between my idealism and realism. Throw in a good dose of passion, and I'm completely fucked.

About once (sometimes twice) every four or five years, an amazing woman or job opportunity finds me. You know why? Because I've always done what my friends are telling me right now..."focus on yourself, don't look for the ladies, they'll come to you." Doing that involves a loss of control. Not that I completely believe in freewill, but you know what? I'm so tired of waiting for the good job, and the girl.

Changes need to be made.

Sadly, this is not a staggering work of eccentricity or fiction, it is my life.


stop looking at me!

6.10.2005

Cicciolina Tastes Like Candy

THE GOOD

  • Get Behind Me Satan, the newest from the White Stripes. Just came out this week. A little downbeat, and a little bit country, and a little bit rock & roll, I suppose, but I definitely like it. I promise, no Osmonds were involved in the making of this record. A decision has been made! No, its not all like Blue Orchid, but its still all very worthwhile. Especially "Doorbell," its quite Jackson 5.
  • Majesty Crush. Remember this band from Detroit's mid-90's musical past? They were all about obsessions, obsessed with My Bloody Valentine, obsessed with drinking, obsessed with female tennis stars, obsessed with Italian porn stars (Cicciolina). Obsession is good as long as you aren't the one obsessing or being obsessed. Does that make any sense? I just used the root 'obsess' so many times that it makes no sense in my head. Doesn't even seem like a real word. This is a good way to practice transcendental meditation, kiddies. Say a word in your head over and over until it loses meaning. Soon, you've 'disconnected'. Its fun, I do it all the time. Its the only way I can get to sleep at night.
  • The Patio at the Garden Bowl (Detroit, MI). Its so nice when you can lean back in a chair while sitting at a picnic table, talk with your friends, watch the freaks go by on Woodward, drink a beer, and enjoy a rousing game of bum-fishing. Quarters, crazy glue, and parking meters. We are evil, evil bastards.
  • The Firebird Band. I know, I know, I can't stop talking about them, but damn do I like it. Their show in Lansing on Monday was way too short.
  • DJgutterball on a Friday night at the GB. I'll be at the GB tonight instead of Saturday. This is good, I'm not sure why, but it seems like it is. Lots of new music.

THE BAD

  • The Transplants listening party at the Garden Bowl tonight from 6pm to 9pm. The Transplants are a side project for Travis Barker from Blink 182 and Tim Armstrong from Rancid. Why is this bad? I like Rancid, and believe it or not, I like Blink 182, also. What I don't like is having to deal with the possibility of a couple hundred teenaged Hot Topic customers milling around trying to get a glimpse of the rock stars who are bowling. I don't like the possibility of having to park a block away when I have a bunch of gear to eventually load in. I am a jaded son of a bitch.
  • Pegboy. I like Pegboy. A lot. I haven't listened to them in a long time. In the late '80s, when Naked Raygun imploded, they reformed as Pegboy. The reason why its bad is because I was listening to "Three Chord Monte" today, and realized that Face to Face, who are one of my favorite pop-punk bands totally ripped off Pegboy's sound. I feel hurt, but I'll live. Because I, I will survive.
  • Inadequate work computers. How in the hell am I supposed to multi-task if I can't have at least twelve different items running at the same time? Also pissed that MusicMatch takes up so much f-ing RAM.
  • Scratch disks. How in the hell do I make the scratch disk on Photoshop bigger? This seems to be the one thing that Adobe didn't feel the need to overexplain to death in their user interface.
  • HP 1300 PSC. Okay, it isn't that bad, it works most of the time, but after almost every time I print something, I have to unplug the power and plug it back in again to perform a cold reset, otherwise, the damned thing tells me that the carriage is stuck even though it isn't. Bitch.

THE UGLY

  • Me and my skepticism, logic, practicality, realism, and doubt. Those are all the same thing, right?



stop looking at me!

6.08.2005

Rebirth Of the Cool (version)

A couple of days ago, I happened to meet a woman through MySpace (online community) named Michelle. I quickly found out that she's in the band Shesus. I like that band. So, we started talking, and I found out why she introduced herself in the first place. My screen name on MySpace is I, Fuzzbot. Its the title of the first song on the first Brainiac record. I'm not fanatical about the band, but I like them a lot, and they were seriously, seriously underrated and overlooked in their time. Their time came to an abrupt end when the enigmatic singer Tim Taylor died in a car accident in 1997. The band was from Dayton, OH, which happens to be where Shesus and Guided By Voices are from, too. We talked a bit more, and it turns out she was in the band for the first record, and earlier EPs, then she was briefly in the Breeders, then Omatic, then Shesus.

All this talk of the musical past got me thinking. So, today I went to one of my older CD wallets. Its one of those big fuckers that hold 256 CDs. Most of what's in it is the stuff that I was really into when I first moved here. Some of it was pre-1997, and some of it was post-1997. That's the year I moved to Detroit.

I pulled out several different CDs that I felt like listening to in the cube today: Aphex Twin's "Richard D. James Album," "Strong Reaction/Three Chord Monte" from Pegboy, Sleater-Kinney's "The Hot Rock," "Selector Dub Narcotic" by various artists, Majesty Crush's last release, the EP "Sans Muscles," and finally, the big one..."Congregation" from the Afghan Whigs.

I can't believe how old some of this stuff is. I can't believe how long I've been listening to it. It's not like these CDs have sat somewhere untouched since 1997. That isn't the case, but usually I just pull out one at a time, listen to it to death, get over it, put it back in the wallet. I had forgotten about Pegboy. Last week, when DJing, someone asked me to play something from the "Richard D. James" album, and I seriously couldn't remember where it was. Glad I know now. I forgot how bland "The Hot Rock" is, and how much I love Majesty Crush. Shoegazer fan for life, I guess.

Okay, I have to admit, part of this interest in the past comes from my present explorations of the Twilight Singers and the Afghan Whigs (both involving Greg Dulli). I first heard them on MTV's 120 Minutes (when the show was still worthwhile) in 1991. It was the video for "Conjure Me" from the album Congregation. And it still sounds so good.


stop looking at me!

Superman III

Its now been six months to this day since we lost Tim and Scott. I'm still pissed, I'm still hurt. I don't think its fair, either. Its still on my mind every day. I've been to the cemetery several times in the past few months. I get lost every time.

A lot has happened to me and the rest of Detroit in these six months. I thought their deaths were the most complicated thing I ever had to deal with. I doubted I would come up against anything anywhere near as bad anytime soon. But I was wrong. So I live, and I love, and I learn. I know I can't bring them back, and recent events have convinced me that all you can do is grow and live and love and learn. I think it may be what they would've wanted us to do.

I miss you guys.


stop looking at me!

6.07.2005

I Can Stay Here, and You Can Be Famous

There's so much to this, and I think it goes far beyond anything as simple as "oh, yeah, he's that guy who was in Braid."

Last night, my friends Chris and Andy and I drove out to Lansing, MI (an hour from Detroit) to see the Firebird Band. Andy got me into them shortly after seeing their first show in Detroit almost four years ago. Unfortunately, that is their only Detroit show so far. Its so strange, the people who I've gotten into the band like it a lot; their interest borders on obsession, much like Andy and I.

The differences between the first (Setting Sun and its Satellites) and the second albums (The City At Night) are monstrous, and the obtuse yet vaguely personal lyrics have become more vague.

The Firebird Band is Chris Broach (keyboards, guitar, lead vocals, ringleader), John Isberg (bass, vocals), and Jess Ronewald (keyboards, vocals). Chris used to be in the now legendary emo-ish (but much more complicated musically) band Braid. John is also in Joan of Arc. I don't know if Jess has been in any other bands, but damn, is she nice.

The Setting Sun and Its Satellites was expansive in sound and ideas, but still quite a bit like Broach's previous band Braid. If you aren't familiar with Braid, I'm not even going to attempt to explain, you'll have to check it out for yourself. This album does add some newer elements like drum machines, synths, and a slower pace. There's just a slight '80s New Wave feel to it, too. Lyrically, all the songs sound very personal, drunken, scared, and generally full of angst.

The City At Night by contrast is much more electro with mechanical beats fueling almost the whole thing. Every song features synth and a New Wave pop sound. But, lyrically its more vague. Listening to the record, it sounds like a soundtrack for young urban hipsters living their lives in the city at night. Exactly. Don't be put off by that, because I'm saying that from my perspective of what its like to live in the city and to be a night-dweller. I'm not saying that from the perspective of some marketing agency's demographics on hip young urbanites. Its a record about pain, and loss, emotion, love (of course), and isolation.

So, Monday night's show had four bands total. Unfortunately, TFB were not headlining this show. First up was Marathon, who sounded like they wished they were 88 Fingers Louie (but not as good), and looked like they thought they were the Suicide Machines in 1996 (but they aren't). Next up was New Mexican Death Squad (I think that was the name), who I didn't pay much attention to, but they seemed to be more of what Marathon had to offer. Boring. Finally, up third was The Firebird Band.

This lineup was so odd, because the headlining act was Bear Vs Shark; it was their record release show (although they had another one the next night in Detroit?), the two opening bands were hardcore. Whatever. The first two bands and BVS all took about ten minutes altogether to set up and do sound check. But, TFB took forever. I even joked to Andy that Chris (Broach) was turning primadonna about the whole thing. In the end, though, it was totally worth it for a too-short set that ended with a cover of Joy Division's "Love Will Tear Us Apart" featuring dead-on vocals from Broach and synth in the same tone as the original from Ronewald. Being a fanboy for Joy Division, this impressed me. Oh, also, they used an iPod for all of the drum tracks. I thought it seemed cheesy at first, but its really not. They can scroll to the song that they're about to play, and then just play to the iPod. Its like when a drummer has a click-track playing in an earpiece so they can keep time. Plus the sound quality was flawless.

All around, in fact, everything sounded great, and looked great, too. Broach and Isberg were both in suit coats and all in black. Broach even took it a step further with black eyeliner, which makes sense I guess with the New Romantic (think Duran Duran) approach of this latest album. He also knows how to play to a crowd and make them happy. All throughout this show, there was a Pistons game showing on several TVs, and everytime there was a big play, people started clapping and cheering. The first time it happened while he was talking, so he commented, "did you really pay to come here and watch a basketball game?" The next few times, he just treated it like they were applauding the band. Funny.

The cult of post-Braid Chris Broach projects goes beyond The Firebird Band. He started up his own label a few years ago called Lucid Records, which at first was just for his own projects. Originally, there was just the Firebird Suite, which evolved into The Firebird Band. Then there was L'Spaerow, which he says was just a one-off album, but its fucking amazing. Total My Bloody Valentine. After that came Life At Sea, which is a more downbeat indie rock kind of thing, and spread throughout were an EP and some singles from TFB. Now he's putting out other bands like The Blackouts, who remind me of the Greenhornes a little bit, but with more British Invasion sound. There's also the newest act on Lucid, Thunderlip, which is balls-out rock 'n' roll. A little odd compared to the rest of the label's roster, but damn, is it good. In fact, go here and check it out. Listen to the song in the 'Media' section. When we were at the show, Jess (from TFB) was manning the merch table, and I was looking at the table, and I said "damn, I already have all of this stuff" There were something like 8 or 9 CDs there. I'm a freak. She gave me a pin, and said she wished she had the new Thunderlip CD because she'd give it to me for being such a fanboy. Okay, she didn't call me a fanboy.


stop looking at me!

6.06.2005

Funkier Than a Mosquito's Tweeter

I copped this from McSweeney's.

Ike Turner'sGuide to Restoring America's Honor.
BY
KEN MCINTYRE
- - - -
OK, America, you done fucked up again. Things got a little out of hand, and you went and blew up another country. Now you got everybody all mad at you, and you don't know what to do. Well, don't worry, America. Ike's been down this road before, and I know exactly how to handle it. You better listen to what I'm telling you, America. Ike knows what he's talking about, and Ike's willing to help you out as long as you do exactly what Ike says and stop being so stubborn. You dig?

Step 1
OK, first things first, America. Stop smacking the bitch. I know sometimes you get caught up in the heat of the moment and you don't know when you've gone too far. Sometimes you just get so mad sometimes. I know you tried to warn Iraq. You told Iraq to stop provoking you. But Iraq wouldn't listen. Iraq was being stubborn and ignorant, and you had to teach Iraq a lesson. Now Iraq's all beaten and bruised and bleeding everywhere, fucking up the good carpet. It's time to chill the fuck out, America. You don't wanna kill Iraq. You just wanna show Iraq how much you love it. It's just sometimes you go a little crazy is all.

Step 2
Give Iraq a Kleenex and tell it to clean itself up. Tell Iraq to hurry, you ain't got all day.

Step 3
Now comes the hard part. You've got to apologize to Iraq, America. Even if you don't really mean it, you've got to swallow your pride and say the words "I'm sorry, baby." Tell Iraq that sometimes America just gets so mad sometimes, and things get out of hand. America doesn't mean to hurt Iraq. America just wants to teach Iraq a lesson, because America loves Iraq so much, baby. America knows what's best for Iraq, and if Iraq would just listen and stop being so stubborn, it could be the best country in the world.

Step 4
Surprise Iraq with a little present. How about ... the gift of democracy! Get all your friends together and make a big celebration out of it. Offer Iraq a little tiny slice of democracy for the cameras. Wait a minute! What's that? Iraq doesn't want your democracy? Tell Iraq it better take a bite of democracy, dammit. C'mon, Iraq, don't disappoint America in front of all these people. C'mon, have some democracy, you low-down dirty ho!
If Iraq asks you to leave it alone, just raise your fist and tell it to stop being all uppity. If Iraq still fights back, well, you're gonna have to teach Iraq a lesson.

Step 5
OK, you did it again. Now you done put Iraq in the hospital. Maybe it's time to do some soul-searching and find out if maybe the problem isn't with you. Promise Iraq that you're gonna try and get some help with your oil addiction and that you'll be a better country from now on. Oil makes you do some crazy things sometimes. Things you tend to regret later. You're gonna have to cut that shit out for good. You dig?

Step 6
Hey, I never said you had to quit cold turkey. Guzzle that shit down and drive over to Iraq's house and start busting up the joint, for old times' sake.

Step 7
OK, by now Iraq's probably threatening to kill your ass if you don't leave it alone. I know it's tough, but at some point you're gonna have to learn how to let go. It's gonna bruise the shit out of your ego, and other countries are probably gonna look down on you for the next few decades, but it has to be done. It'll allow Iraq to blossom into its own beautiful country, and it'll give you a chance to focus on improving yourself for a change. You used to be really great, remember? Think of all the amazing things you've done in the past. You went a little nuts there for a few years, but it's never too late to get back on track. Eventually, the world will learn to respect you again. They'll follow your example and learn from your mistakes.
And if it makes you feel any better, one day Iraq will probably star in a really shitty Mel Gibson movie.

Peace,Ike


stop looking at me!

6.03.2005

Get Behind Me Satan

This morning, as usual, I was bored at work. I checked the usual things online, but then I pulled up McSweeney's Internet Tendency . I've addressed this site before in a previous post, probably weeks ago. Its a literary site. Anyway, they have this section called Reviews of New Food. Its fucking hilarious. Most of the new food that gets reviewed is junk food or fast food. Totally worth your time. You can find it here. I also highly suggest checking out the rest of the site. There's new stuff every day. The lists are also good, too. One of my favorites is 'Tools or Actions in Photoshop That, Were They Applicable To Real Life, Would Prove Useful At Various Stages of a Relationship'. That one is here.

I also highly recommend checking the food reviews on McSweeney's and then maybe watching "Unwrapped" on the Food Network to get the whole picture on what you're eating, and how its made. Fascinating.


stop looking at me!

6.01.2005

The City and Driving

The office is slow today, and I keep going outside because the sun is out, I'm wearing shorts, and all seems to be right with the world. At least enough for me to be in a good mood. So, this weather makes me think of driving in the city and on the highway and music that I like to listen to when I'm driving. In no particular order...

  • Genius/GZA - Liquid Swords. One of the few hip hop records that I know well from beginning to end, because this truly is the shit. I like it better than his stuff with Wu Tang.
  • Sly & the Family Stone - Greatest Hits. Normally, I'm not into compilations or greatest hits albums, but this one has all the upbeat shit that you want to hear. Don't get me wrong, "There's a Riot Goin' On" is my favorite, but that was when Sly got all bitter and jaded and junked-out. Plus the GH has "Hot Fun in the Summertime" on it. You need that. Its summatime.
  • The Zombies - Odessey & Oracle. Pop psychedelia at its best. This one is dripping with summer. It makes you think of scenes in movies where kids are running through a field in the summer sun.
  • The Troggs - Love is All Around. Not an album, but a song. Not all that good for driving, but it is good for summer.
  • The Firebird Band - The Setting Sun & Its Satellites and The City At Night. Chris Broach, who was in Braid once upon a time has gone pop and electro and who knows what else, but this stuff is good. Both albums, and any singles you can find. Great lyrics like "red-wine stained lips and your red, red lipstick" or "drunk nights and whiskey kisses, and bruises on my neck" (both from the same song). Both albums are a little heavy on references to the the city and driving in the city.
  • AC/DC - anything with Bon Scott. It will make you drive faster, I promise. Especially "Riff Raff."
  • Nas - Illmatic. N.Y. State of Mind, that's all I gotta say.
  • Sugar - Copper Blue. There's just something about Bob Mould's voice, and the music is so poppy.
  • Jawbreaker - Dear You. I guess its halfway between a breakup album and a fuck you album. Works for me. Nothing personal to anyone reading, I just love this record.
  • Of Montreal - The Sunlandic Twins. Pure, Beach Boys influenced pop. Let's pretend we don't exist.
  • The Exploding Hearts - Guitar Romantic. Perfect punk rock if there is such a thing.
  • Paperclip People - anything you can find. Period. Carl Craig side project. Not quite techno, but definitely electro.
  • The Herbaliser - Blow Your Headphones. British hip hop acid jazz masterpiece.
  • Latyrx - Muzapper's Remixes. "Lady Don't Tek No" should be bumpin' from at least one car out on the Rock every Friday night in the summer.
  • Teenage Fanclub - Four Thousand, Seven Hundred Sixty-Six Seconds. Its a greatest hits, but I think its one of the most perfect pop records of all time.
  • Masta P - okay, I don't give a fuck about Masta P. I just want to hear Eli say "na, nah, na, nahhhh."
  • Against Me! - Reinventing Axl Rose. Anarchists, acoustic and electric guitars, three guys singing at once? This screams summer on the road to me. But maybe I'm weird.
  • Backyard Babies - Total 13. Damn, those Swedes know how to rock out. Rock and roll always makes me think of summer. But so does some hip hop...
  • Tribe Called Quest - Low End Theory. Aside from my weird-assed and diverse taste, this should be on everyone's top summer records list.
  • Screeching Weasel - Anthem For a New Tomorrow. More perfect pop punk.
  • Descendents - Milo Goes to College. One of the best punk albums of all time in my eyes.
  • MC5 - Back In the USA. It wouldn't be summer in Detroit without "Looking At You."

Okay, I could probably go on forever with this list, I'm just fuckin' around. I'll stop now. I'm sure I'll think of more later.


stop looking at me!

I Don't Have All the Answers, and I Don't Pretend To

I was just standing out in front of my office smoking a cigarette. The office park is kind of nice, lots of trees and flowers and greenery. I saw a Cardinal fly from one tree to another, and I was a little shocked. It made me suddenly reflective. I started thinking of all kinds of things that I miss. Here is a short list:

  • Being able to go for a five minute drive and actually see deer in the forest. I used to be able to go to Belle Isle to get a small dose of nature, but then they went and corralled all the deer into the zoo, which is never open.
  • I miss going to a restaurant with my grandpa and him asking for a window seat (overlooking the street) so that we can "watch the boats go by." He'd always laugh after saying it. The waitresses never got it.
  • I miss the wall murals that would change every week in City Club. Somewhere around 1996, the murals got really lame. I remember standing along the wall facing the bar one night and saying to Lori, "wasn't this the Last Supper with skeletons as the Apostles last week? Now it's Mexican wrestlers. I love it."
  • I miss Denny's at 4am. Not the silly folk song from Wally Pleasant, but actually being at Denny's at 4am. I miss the simplicity of it...drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes, talking, hangin' with the waitresses because we were the only people there.
  • I miss when a bunch of us went to that diner that used to be at Warren and Cass for breakfast, and Timmy only had a dollar, and wouldn't let anyone buy him anything, so he ordered the 'extra egg' off the menu for 86 cents.
  • I miss college radio and getting away with playing the Bouncing Souls, Wu Tang Clan, Sloan, and scratching on a Grover Washington record all back to back, just because I could get away with it.
  • I miss acid that was actually one ion away from being PCP (so it was PCE), and not really acid at all, but I didn't care because it made the stars move in concentric circles when I laid on my back in the sand at Lighthouse Beach.
  • I miss the days before I knew how to cook, when food was simple. Now I can't even make Kraft Macaroni & Cheese without adding pressed garlic. Okay, I can't make anything without garlic.
  • I miss my Henryk Gorecki "Symphony No. 2" featuring Dawn Upshaw CD that John Alien borrowed five years ago and still hasn't given back. Instead he just jokes about it those rare times that I see him. Cracker.
  • Speaking of John Alien, I miss stupid late night employee hijinks at the Majestic. It never seemed like running down the lanes to knock down the pins head-first was a bad idea. I'm glad it wasn't me.

I'm sure there's more, but there's this little flashing red light on my phone telling me that I have an unheard voicemail, and those people just don't quit. If I don't call 'em back soon, they'll start emailing me, too. Time to punch back in and deal with it.


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The Party's Crashing Us

This past Sunday afternoon, I slept all day. Saturday wasn't particularly eventful until the evening. Lots of emotional stress while DJing, then I ended up staying late at the bar drinking after hours. Then I hung out in my car with a friend and a drink talking about all of this shit. By the time we were heading home, the sun was already coming up. I miss that. Not being out all night getting wasted, but being out all night and being able to see the sun come up. Anyhoo, this means that I went to bed around 7am. Usually I'd be worried about fucking with my sleep schedule because I work 9 to 5 during the week, but I had Monday off, so it was all good.

Anyway, what I'm trying to get at is the sleep that day. I had some really intense emotions, a shot of Jameson, a red bomb that I didn't really want but was bought for me, several PBRs, about half of some random vodka drink, and greasy food from a 24 hour coney island all influencing me in that sleep-state. Fucked up dreams. That's what it means. I only remember one, and I meant to type it out as soon as I got up, but I was too distracted by hunger. Then I lost it. I still remember some of it, but I've lost some of the specifics.

I remember that written or typed words were blobs. Okay, in Photoshop, there's this tool in the 'layer properties' menu. It's called 'stroke'. Basically, what it will do is apply an outline of any color you want around all of the objects in the layer. Its most commonly used for text to make it jump off the page. If you make the color of the stroke the same color as the text, it makes the text unreadable. Its just blobs of color in vague word-shapes. This is the way all written or typed text looked in my dream. There were colors assigned to the blobs which denoted emotions, but the only way to truly know what was being communicated was to actually hear it. You had to hear enunciation; you needed to actually see the face of the person who is speaking.

Its most likely that this was a lucid-dream, because I never remember dreams during REM sleep. I've read some dream interpretation stuff from Freud and Carl Jung, but most of it makes no sense to me as to what certain things are symbolic of. I think this is just me being tired of being misunderstood through email. Sarcasm doesn't seep through as easily as I would like it to in an email or text message or instant message. Know what I mean?

I can italicize and bold words or parts of words all I want, but I still end up misinterpreted. Sometimes it feels like these words don't mean anything unless I hear them or speak them.


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Nothing Not Dance Party

These are the reasons why I hate HBO:

  • Goodfellas. I have seen this movie probably five or six times. Yet, last night when I went to bed at midnight, and I went through the channels...I watched it. I watched Joe Pesci shoot that kid in the bar for not bringing him his drink fast enough. Yet again I watched and paid more attention to the music, cuz damn Scorsese is the man. Why was I watching this when I shoulda been sleeping? Because it was on, that's why.
  • Six Feet Under & Curb Your Enthusiasm. I love these series. Six Feet Under is kind of like Arrested Development for me in that even though there's a long-winded backstory, and its hard to keep up if you don't watch every week, it still pulls you in. I don't know how anyone can not like Curb Your Enthusiasm. Most people liked Seinfeld. Larry David produced and wrote a lot of Seinfeld and Curb Your Enthusiasm is his show. He produces and writes and stars in it. He's just himself. Its great! But both of these shows are in reruns often enough. I don't need to be watching it. I can see it anytime.
  • Crappy movies. I'll be going through the channels, and I'll end up stopping on something that looks interesting, but then I lose interest. Days or hours or weeks later, I come across another interesting part of the same lame movie. So then I have all these bits and pieces in my head, but no full movie. What it means is that given a chance, I'll sit and watch as much as I can just to figure out what the fuck is going on. Hours of my life that I cannot get back.
  • Father of the Bride in Spanish. For some reason, I'm fascinated.



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5.26.2005

Long Division

Fragments of a figment, pigmented in a department for all to see

  • The most recent Wilco album, "A Ghost Is Born" will crawl into your head and not leave if you give it a chance..same goes for the new one from Spoon, "Gimme Fiction." Pure genius.
  • I'm starting to doubt the worth of SmartWater (plain old vapor distilled water with electrolytes). It just makes me feel more bloated than regular water. Tastes better than Gatorade, though.
  • The value of the ellipsis has gone down with me, too...it works well to begin or end a block of text...and it works well within a sentence, but I don't know about using it to separate thoughts...it just doesn't feel right anymore...like it's too messy...but I do appreciate the pregnant pause it can create...
  • My friend Alissa has become a blogger! This highly itelligent and attractive human being's thoughts and opinions can be read here.
  • Okay, seriously, "A Ghost Is Born" is some heavy shit. "Spiders (kidsmoke)" alone will not leave your head until you get "I Turn My Camera On" from Spoon up in there, and then its all over. Note that Jeff Tweedy came out of rehab for alcohol and wrote "A Ghost Is Born." I think he's a fucking genius. So is Britt Daniel from Spoon, but he's more of an overlooked genius. Probably underpaid, too. That's the way it usually goes.
  • I think sobriety is seriously, seriously over-rated.
  • I think more people need to eat more Boursin cheese, particularly the variety with roast garlic added. Okay, the truth is, I think more people need to eat more cheese, period. Everyone would be so much happier. I don't want to hear any of you lactose intolerant people out there whining, either, because I'm lactose intolerant, but it doesn't stop me! I had Boursin, Fontina, and Pecorino Romano last night.
  • What the fuck is a 'fruit buzz'? I have never, ever heard of anyone getting any kind of rush or buzz or anything from eating fruit, walnuts, and yogurt, unless we're talking about sugar shock, then its a different story altogether. I would assume that it's not a desirable situation to get yourself into, though. Its times like this when I wish McDonald's wasn't the biggest advertiser in the country.
  • I found a fatal flaw in the logic of love. Or something like that, I can't help but quote songs right now.
  • "Handshake Drugs," from Wilco's "Ghost..."
  • I could go on and on about my personal shit, but you know what? I don't think that's any of your damned business. Bet you never thought you'd hear me say that. My normally open book is temporarily closed right now.
  • The Great Lakes Myth Society. It has been way, way too long since I have seen an excitingly good newer local band. At first, it may not mean anything to you, but I think the first explanation that comes to mind is American Gothic. Not the painting, but a feeling, maybe? I don't know. I really good way of explaining it comes from Stephen Thomas Erlewine's review of their album on All Music. He refers to their sound as "folk instrumentation played with rock vigor." He totally nailed it. It's like nothing from the past and almost nothing else going on right now. I have to say almost because their sound is just slightly similar to The Arcade Fire. Its folk, and pop, and a little bit prog at times. I haven't heard the album, but live there are two brothers, James Christopher and Timothy Monger. James Christoper plays the acoustic guitar all throughout. Timothy plays the accordion (and it doesn't sound cheesy, either), and at other times the electric guitar. Then there's the third songwriter, Gregory Dean Macintosh, who also plays the electric guitar, and the rhythm is held down by J. Scott McClintock on bass and Fido Kennington on drums. At some point, I noticed McClintock toss aside his pick and start plucking the bass strings. He seemed to play it both ways rather effortlessly. This is rare. In fact, you don't see such a high level of musicianship very often in 'indie' bands. I was quickly reminded of The Greenhornes and their fastidious attention to detail when on stage. The GLMS also all wore dark suits which definitely contributed to the folk gothic sound in a way. Oh, also, a lot of their songs actually are about Great Lakes myths. The best that I heard was called "No. VI," which is about the Michigan town of Novi, which was "number six on the line." This is definitely a band worth checking out.



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5.23.2005

Remember the Weight of the World

I am sofa king jittery right now. Today's a no food, lots of coffee, lots of cigarettes, avoid doing real work kinda day. It will be a long time before I feel truly motivated to post anything entertaining on this site. I have a lot going on upstairs.


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5.21.2005

I Summon You*

Not much to report. I've been distracted in a variety of ways lately. I could give you a review of a record, I suppose.


Easy Action - "The Friends of Rock & Roll"
This band has instant hardcore roots thanks to the singer John Brannon's first band Negative Approach. NA was one of the original hardcore bands who ranked up there with Minor Threat, except Ian McKaye was never as hardcore as Brannon. But, make no mistake, this is a rock & roll band. Their first record a few years back was good, but it was dense. Probably because they had two guitarists, but Brannon put down the guitar for this one. He plays on one song, "Kool Aide," but otherwise his hands are freed up so that he can be as emphatic as he wants to be onstage. There have been some lineup changes since the last album, too. Brad Hales played bass on "The Friends..." but he's no longer in the band. Tony Romeo formerly of the Trash Brats now plays bass. The former drummer (sorry I can't remember your name) is now in local blues band The Doctor's Prescription, and he's been replaced in Easy Action by Matt Becker. Harold is still playing guitar and Brannon is still singing.
The album starts off right away with a hardcore influenced track called "I'm Waiting," but then they slow it down a bit with "Worse For You." What follows is the title track, which is introduced by Harold's mother and her Korean accent. She called in this one on a cell phone. The song has already started, and then you hear her saying "introducing...the friends of rock & roll!" I just found out that this is how she refers to the rest of the guys in the band. Because they're Harold's friends, and he's in a rock & roll band, she calls them "the friends of rock & roll." The song itself makes me think of the New Bomb Turks, but not in a derivative way. The choruses and the 'yeahs' are sung by the Friends of Rock & Roll Choir. They got forty or so of their friends to come in and sing backup on this one. Mix that with lyrics like "we'd rather slit your throat than write a brand new song" and you've got an instant Easy Action classic. A couple songs later is "Dead of Night," a slow-burning swamp rock track that makes me think of the Cramps just a little bit until the chorus kicks in with all the reverb on the guitar and Brannon's whaling. "Get It" is another hardcore influenced track, but then "There Was A Time" slows it down just a little bit again. I love what comes next, "Get The Fuck Out of My Way." I thought I was imagining things at first, but it starts out EXACTLY like "Street Fighting Man" from the Rolling Stones. The guitar, bass, drums, and even maracas. But, they change it up enough to make it unique and exciting all at the same time. The last song, "What's Going Down" is a little over seven minutes long, and slow! Yes, it's a slow song. But it's so good. All throughout it, there's an organ provided by Bobby Emmett of the Sights. And its church organ, so it sounds like a white boy British blues song like early John Mayall or early Fleetwood Mac or something. This is crazy good. I didn't know they had it in them. I could almost say its the best track on the album. The power of Easy Action is indeed the initial draw, but its Brannon's voice that anchors this band, and his voice is showcased in "What's Going Down." Overall, its a good deal. If you've ever liked anything else John Brannon has done, pick this up.

*listen to Spoon
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5.16.2005

Honey Don't

As previously stated, the devil speaks to me. He's talking to me right now. He's waiting. He's a friend of rock & roll. Think about it...have you ever listened to Nick Cave or Tom Waits or Foetus (aka Jim G. Thirlwell) or Easy Action or Bantam Rooster and heard the demon himself? He's there.

I've always thought that Satan was just a myth. A beast created to further the belief in good and evil. But then, when I was a teenager, I first heard Nick Cave. His slower stuff is one thing, its usually kind of poppy, but then you hear songs like The Mercy Seat, and you know what you're really hearing. Cave is just a mouthpiece. A puppet of the Dark Lord.

Later, I heard Tom Waits and I just thought he was a storyteller, like a film noir Bob Dylan. But he got darker, too. When the songs slow down, the voice becomes more familiar. I could feel the power. That sick feeling in your stomach every time that gruff voice growls.

When I was in college, I got into industrial music and all the fringe weirdness that came with it. An accoutrement of the devil's musical accompaniment is drums. Big drums. Stark, warm yet dry, tribal drums. Industrial is by nature percussive music. Cave and Waits happen to have significant percussion in their music. Its usually fairly simple, but its there, and it carries the demonic vocals. I found the devil in much of the industrial music that I was into at this point, but the man himself was manifested in the voice of Jim G. Thirlwell, an Australian storyteller who ranks right up there with Waits and Cave. After emigrating to NYC's lower east side, Thirlwell growled his way around the streets of the underground. I can picture his music being used in a film like Sin City. His rasp would also fit in well in a film adaptation of any William Burroughs book.

In more recent times, the devil has manifested himself in more obvious ways outside of music. Tom DeLay and Dick Cheney, for an example. But if you look hard enough and beyond public poiltical figures (the obvious Luciferian mouthpieces), you'll still find that snake slithering around Detroit. There was a time when Satan spoke to Detroiters through two men: Tom Potter and John Brannon.

Tom Potter was the singer/guitarist in the devil-rock two-piece Bantam Rooster. When he started playing that guitar, and his mouth opened, it was like staring Satan in the face. Pure, concentrated evil. He became transformed. A completely different person. The devil had hold of him. But Potter found soul, and the devil retreated back to Tom's psyche.

Brannon was the singer for Detroit's original hardcore band Negative Approach. We're talking about the mid-80s here. Same time period as Minor Threat, but much, much different. Even then as a teenager, Brannon had the voice. HE was there. The beast. I never got to see a show, I was too young, but I've seen pictures, and I've heard the live music. Later, years after NA broke up, Brannon came back with the Laughing Hyenas. It was like some sort of twisted soul hard rock hybrid with that demonic growl at the center of it all. The devil was all over that band. Personal problems, white drug problems...it couldn't last forever. After two albums and a couple of EPs and singles, the band imploded. Brannon came back a few years later (early 2000s) with Easy Action. He found the true voice. Perhaps more than Cave, Waits, and Thirlwell, Brannon's elastic growl is THE voice of Satan. I've seen it.

Odd sidenote: All of these men have soul, whether its under the surface in their music, or in their record players at home, or on the stage, they have it. In the beginning, the Christian faithful said that soul was the devil's music. Coincidence? Nope, not at all.


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Happy Town

THE GOOD

  • Four months ago today I turned 29 years old. To most this would be a bad thing, but my life has improved with age. Its a good thing.
  • My two-week-long Wilco/Uncle Tupelo/Replacements/Paul Westerberg binge.
  • The NOFX sub-binge that started last week. Hey, we're the Brews!
  • Drunk nights and whiskey kisses, and bruises on my neck. Its all good.
  • The back seat.
  • The new Easy Action album "Friends of Rock & Roll." Swampy, dirty, demonic rock that rolls. They slow it down here and there, open up, and get loose.
  • "Ceux Qui Intentent N'ont Jamais Vecu" and "N'Ecoutez Pas" from Le Fly Pan Am. I don't know how to explain it, but I like it a lot. After I listen to it a bit more, I'll let you know. Kind of like other bands on Constellation Records (the most visible being Godspeed! You Black Emperor). By the way, thanks, Andy.
  • The Isis album "Oceanic" and the two CDs of "Oceanic" remixes. Interesting. I guess this could easily be described as being very similar to Godflesh. The idea of remixing grindcore also fits in nicely with what Justin Broadrick, the brains behind Godflesh has mostly done in the time post-Godflesh (since their breakup in 2002): remixes. It fits in so nicely that he actually does a remix of an Isis track.
  • Of Montreal. Remember bands like Neutral Milk Hotel, Apples in Stereo, and Olivia Tremor Control? They were all part of a loose collective of like-minded bands from the Athens, GA area that shared some members. The collective was called Elephant 6. Of Montreal are part of a second wave of E6 bands. Their new album "The Sunlandic Twins" has electro beats that melt into shiny happy people pop harmonies. A big debt is owed to the Beach Boys as with most E6 bands. Its not anything especially groundbreaking, but the music is dense and accessible all at once. Total ear candy with earnest lyrics.

THE BAD

  • Clients. I can't complain enough about those fuckers. No specific examples today, just the usual BS.
  • Getting drunk in the evening, then getting sober then getting drunk again. Usual result: a headache. The only way to get rid of said headache is to get drunker. I hate that.
  • 1080i versus 720p. I know, that probably means nothing to you. It means nothing to me, either, and I think its stupid. (1080i means 1080 interlaced lines and 720p means 720 progressive scan lines - this is all relevant to high definition video and broadcasting)
  • The hunger. I've got it. I should eat something.
THE UGLY
  • The devil speaks to me through Tom Waits, Nick Cave, Jim G. Thirlwell, Tom Potter, and John Brannon.
  • I'm not crazy, you're the one who's crazy!


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5.13.2005

Local History Lesson

First, I have to say that to understand why and how this occurred to me, you have to understand that my mind wanders to the strangest places very quickly. I was reading the forums on the Detroityes site today. There was a thread about a low-income apartment building in Southfield and how there's frequent problems there with police, violence, murder, theft, etc. In the thread, someone compared the building to "Cabrini Green." For some reason, this sounded familiar to me. So, I go on Google, look it up, and it was a notorious housing project in Chicago. Notorious for violent crime, shootings, drugs, and it happened to be sandwiched between two affluent areas of Chicago: the Gold Coast and Lincoln Park. This location made the poverty and destitution of the projects more visible than normal. The Cabrini Green projects were also the setting for the film "Candyman" and the sitcom "Good Times." Cabrini Green was demolished in 1992, and many of the residents were re-located to mixed-income housing projects. I have no idea why the name sounded so familiar to me, but I had to look it up. One of the hits that I got on Google was on Wikipedia, a unique online encyclopedia that can be edited by anyone. Being a fan of the site, that was the first place I looked. Then, out of boredom, I went to the main page of the site. A featured article was about Louis Riel, a Canadian politican. Reading the article, I was suddenly reminded of something...

From the Fall of 1994 to the Winter of 1997, I attended St. Clair County Community College (SC4) in Port Huron, MI. Right across the St. Clair River from Port Huron is Sarnia, Ontario. There were a lot of Canadians who went to SC4. Why, I have no idea, they probably had better schools, but that's not important. I was in the broadcasting program at SC4, and there was a handful of Canadians in the program with me, as well as on the radio station (WSGR-FM). One in particular was a little older and very animated. Also a Star Wars freak who owned a life-size cutout of Boba Fett that he was particularly proud of. His name was J.J.

(Most of the following information is located on this Amnesty International website.)

Just north of Sarnia, along Lake Huron, there's a Provincial park called The Pinery, and just north of that was a military installation at Ipperwash. Both are located on a large piece of land that was designated as indigenous peoples reservation land by a Treaty signed in 1827 between the Native Chippewas and the British Crown. In 1927, part of the reservation was sold to the government of Ontario for the Provincial Park. The park contained an Indigenous burial ground which was desecrated when the park was built.

The remainder of the reserve was appropriated by the Department of National Defence to create a military base during World War II: the Camp Ipperwash military base. The Chippewas living there were involuntarily resettled to a nearby reservation pursuant to the War Measures Act, on the understanding that their land would be returned to them at the end of World War II hostilities. Despite this undertaking, embodied in a Cabinet Order, the land was never returned to them.Approximately 50 years later, finding that all efforts to regain their reserve land had been in vain, on 27 May 1993 Indigenous people from Stoney Point occupied part of the military base that had been built on land appropriated from them in World War II. On 29 July 1995, they took over the rest of the base. The Canadian military withdrew from the base without confrontation. Technicians from the nearby military base reportedly introduced some of the protesters to the daily operations of the base so that equipment would not be damaged. Some of the protesters were awarded contracts with the federal Government to cut the grass and undertake maintenance activities.

On 4 September, approximately 24 reportedly unarmed Native men, women and children entered the park and occupied a small portion along the beach and parking lot. Their occupation posed no apparent danger to the public - and appeared to be symbolic - since the park had just closed at the end of the tourist season. Reports suggest that the protest began peacefully. The protesters were joined by sympathisers for a picnic, which included children. The police had been alerted as early as May 1995 that an occupation of the park might happen.(11)The Ontario Provincial Police (OPP) had prepared a strategy code-named ‘Project Maple’ for use in the event that the park was occupied. Its aim, as stated in the police's document, was "to contain and negotiate a peaceful resolution". Thirteen negotiators would be available. Ambulances and caged buses would be on alert. In addition, any arrests were to be videotaped so that the OPP could counter any unjust accusations of brutality. The plan of OPP Acting Superintendent John Carson was to tell the Natives that the park was closed, that they were trespassing and that they should leave. If they refused to leave the park, a court injunction ordering them to leave would be sought.

On 4 September, approximately 24 reportedly unarmed Native men, women and children entered the park and occupied a small portion along the beach and parking lot. Their occupation posed no apparent danger to the public - and appeared to be symbolic - since the park had just closed at the end of the tourist season.

Reports suggest that the protest began peacefully. The protesters were joined by sympathisers for a picnic, which included children. The police had been alerted as early as May 1995 that an occupation of the park might happen.(11)

The Ontario Provincial Police (OPP) had prepared a strategy code-named ‘Project Maple’ for use in the event that the park was occupied. Its aim, as stated in the police's document, was "to contain and negotiate a peaceful resolution". Thirteen negotiators would be available. Ambulances and caged buses would be on alert. In addition, any arrests were to be videotaped so that the OPP could counter any unjust accusations of brutality. The plan of OPP Acting Superintendent John Carson was to tell the Natives that the park was closed, that they were trespassing and that they should leave. If they refused to leave the park, a court injunction ordering them to leave would be sought.

Amnesty International was not present at the confrontation between the protesters and the police force. However, the organization has followed closely issues surrounding the investigation into Dudley George’s death and related matters since September 1995 and has engaged in correspondence with the authorities to express its concerns and gain information.

The following description has been compiled from court actions, eye-witness statements, media reports and police accounts of events.

Despite the initially peaceful nature of the protests, the OPP sealed off the roads leading to the park.

The use of more aggressive policing methods appeared to increase tension and was followed by acts of violence. Officers arrived on the outskirts of the park. Some of the protesters dented three police vehicles and broke their windows with a hockey stick and rocks in the reported belief that the police cruisers were about to ram them. One protester also threw a flare in the direction of the police.

The situation still appeared relatively under control on 5 September. An official police log stated at 8:27am: "We are trying to contain it, objective to contain and resolve it peacefully. No one in the community is in any danger, as we have adequate [police] services present". However, the OPP presence increased. Officers were seen observing the park from a boat on Lake Huron and using a helicopter to videotape the activities of the protesters. According to one police estimate, only nine protesters remained at that point, many protesters having temporarily left the park.

There were no credible reports of the protesters being armed. Minutes of a Government meeting on 7 September 1995 indicate: "Armed? - No knowledge but no indication". Acting Superintendent John Carson later told the Special Investigations Unit (SIU): "At that point in time, were we expecting to come under fire? The answer would be no".

Despite the apparent lack of a clear armed threat, the OPP deployed armoured vehicles and military equipment. Police notes on 5th September, timed at 4:45pm state: "Insp. Carson reports that the military will be releasing a couple of vehicles to us....The military is prepared to train two teams". The assistance of the military was code-named ‘Panda’. An undated Department of National Defence document, stamped ‘SECRET’ states:

On order, LFCA [the Canadian military's Land Forces Central Area in North York] will sp [support] law enforcement operations in the IPPERWASHarea....EXECUTION....Concept of Ops [operations].

(1) It is the aim of DND [Department of National Defence] (...) to avoid direct involvement by providing resources and advice to the OPP which will enable them to successfully accomplish their mission.

The OPP also sought the use of armoured vehicles and other support from the Canadian military. The vehicles and support were never used in the Ipperwash confrontation.


6th September: the confrontation begins

At approximately 8pm on 6 September, all the lights in the park were turned off. By that time over 200 armed officers were positioned in the vicinity of the park. A riot squad in heavy armour was deployed. It marched on the protesters in rows of 25 to 30 and massively outnumbered the 15 to 20 remaining protesters. The riot police beat their steel batons against their shields as they advanced. Officers armed with laser-sighted sub-machine guns were also present.

The protesters reacted by directing powerful portable spotlights to the officers in an attempt to dazzle them. Taunts and insults were exchanged. The police forces marched in formation towards the park boundary until they were very close to the protesters.

Bernard George, an elected councillor with the nearby Kettle Point Band, was not part of the protest but had witnessed the build-up of armed police around the park. Fearing for the safety of the protesters, he advised the Natives to evacuate the women and children and walked towards the police, shouting: "You don't need guns. Leave the people alone in the park".


Allegations of beating by police officers

The police advanced towards the protesters with their batons raised. Bernard George attempted, again to no avail, to convince the police to retreat. The police were allegedly ordered to "Go! Go! Go!" and charged a second time, striking the protesters. Bernard George fell to the ground. Eight to ten police officers allegedly circled him, kicked him and beat him with their batons while he shouted "I give up". He lost consciousness and was then allegedly dragged along the ground by his hair.

When questioned after the events by officers investigating the incident, no police officers could recall beating Bernard George or seeing other officers hit him.

Bernard George's injuries required several operations in the months that followed. He suffered at least 25 bruises consistent with severe blows from batons or boots on his back, groin and head. He also had bruises on his arms and legs and suffered serious lacerations to the head. Remarkably, Bernard George was charged with assault and mischief but was acquitted at trial in July 1996.

As Bernard George was allegedly being beaten, some of the demonstrators left the park to rescue him but they too were allegedly beaten with batons. Teenage protester Nicholas Cottrelle started a school bus and drove towards the police to interpose himself between the police and the protesters. Another teenage protester, Warren George, followed him in a car. As Nicholas Cottrelle drove towards the police some officers leaped into a ditch. Police officers opened fire on the bus and the car.

The only injury to police officers was one strained knee ligament and one twisted ankle.

The fatal shooting of Dudley George

OPP marksman Acting Sergeant Kenneth Deane was one of eight Tactical Response Unit (TRU) or sniper team members stationed as protective back-up for the 32 members of the Crowd Management Unit. At about 11:45pm, Dudley George was on the roadway, some distance from the bus and the group of protesters, about 15 feet from the park. Deane fired three shots at him. The first appears to have missed George. The second grazed his leg as he started fleeing towards the park. The third shot hit George in the chest and he fell to his knees. He curled up in a foetal position and said "they got me", according to the testimony of a Native witness.

Fellow protesters dragged Dudley George inside the park, after which two of his siblings, Pierre and Carolyn, drove him to Strathroy-Middlesex Hospital in a private vehicle with one flat tire. They alleged that their efforts en route to summon an ambulance were in vain. On arrival, at the hospital, both were arrested and advised that they might be charged with attempted murder, despite their repeated protests that their brother who was in the back of the car, required immediate assistance. They were not able to ensure that their brother received medical attention. Instead, they were taken away and held for 12 hours before being released.

Dudley George was pronounced dead at 12:45am on 7 September 1995. He was killed by a hollow-tipped ‘mushroom’ bullet designed to expand upon contact with the flesh thereby causing maximum injury. The post mortem examination, carried out by pathologist Dr. Shkrum, concluded that George had died from blood loss.

This happened in modern times! It was only ten years ago. This doesn't make any sense. I remembered all of this because my friend J.J. had been at The Pinery with friends when the protesters first occupied the park. Some of the protesters told he and his friends that they should probably leave, because they expected trouble. On his way over the Bluewater Bridge the next morning, he listened to the radio the whole way and heard about the violence that erupted in the park he was at just the previous night. He told me and some of the other people at the radio station about it, but it never really hit me. I never really knew what the whole thing was about until just now. Not until I decided to look it up today. Dudley George was the first person killed over indigenous land rights on this continent in the 21st century. The officer who shot Dudley George was eventually given a non-custodial (no time served) sentence for criminal negligence because as the judge said, he was not the one who made the decision to serve that mission that day. The question of who made that decision still lingers ten years later. Many people believe that the Canadian Prime Minister at the time, Mike Harris, and senior cabinet members were responsible for making the obviously bad judgement call.


stop looking at me!

5.09.2005

Ennio Morricone vs Clint Eastwood

THE GOOD

  • The pizza and the patio at Como's in Ferndale on a sunny afternoon. The quality of the service will be addressed below.
  • No hangover after Thursday night Weezer. Is it possible that shots of Crown Royal that come out of a 'gun' at a bar can be less debilitating than straight from a bottle? By the way, thanks to DP for the tickets at will call and the drink tickets. You made our night.
  • The Belmont in Hamtramck on Fridays. No idea who was playing, but those dollar cans of PBR along with good friends are a serious combination at the end of the night.
  • Every album from Uncle Tupelo, Wilco, Paul Westerberg solo, the Replacements, and Golden Smog. I've been on a bender lately.
  • Sarah comin' back to the D for the weekend.
  • Shannon, my little 'sister' comin' back to the D for the weekend.
  • Tootispea. No I'm not explaining, because even I don't know what it means, but I do know who it means.

THE BAD

  • The service at Como's in Ferndale. If she had told us it was her first day, we probably would not have gotten all worked up about it taking twenty minutes to get our second round and another twenty minutes to order food AND the food being wrong when we got it. None of the servers looked happy there. I can see why, it looks like the place was understaffed. Either way, our pepperoni and garlic deep dish was free because of it, so it all works out.
  • Weezer live at the State Theater in Detroit this past Thursday. What the fuck? First of all, they really weren't all that into it. I believe the term is 'phoning it in'. Lame. They opened with "Tired of Sex" from Pinkerton, this was a good start. But then they proceeded to play mostly just the big hits. I don't think I heard anything from Maladroit, just "Tired of Sex", "The Good Life" (my favorite Pinkerton song), and "Getchoo" (the weakest Pinkerton song) from Pinkerton, "Hash Pipe" from the 'green' album, the four most mediocre songs from the newest album (?), and almost the entire 'blue' album. The stuff from the blue album was appreciated, but they have so much more. None of the rarities or b-sides, or anything really different. Lame.
  • Feeling lost at a cemetery because you really can't find who you're looking for.

THE UGLY

  • Confronting a bad waitress. I hate it, but its a necessary evil sometimes. I just hope she didn't have to pay for that pizza.
  • Figuring out where to walk when wandering around in a cemetery because you're not sure what you're looking for and the only way to get around means walking 'over' people. Very discomforting.
  • The aforementioned cans of dollar PBR combining with a shot of Crown, a shot of Seagram's 7, a shot of Jameson, a Thai dinner that I can't remember or pronounce the name of, Tsing Tao, Saturday morning sun filling my bedroom, and that damned woodpecker outside my window all forming a conspiracy to give me a raging headache on Saturday morning and make me goofy for hours. I couldn't even talk in complete sentences.
  • Jim Anders, the bassist from Detroit's Novadriver and Grinder passed away this weekend. He will be missed.



stop looking at me!

5.05.2005

Grandpaboy

So I step outside, and everything's green. This is good. I get in the car, open the moonroof and all the windows. Put in the Replacements CD "Let It Be," turn it up loud. As I drive towards Telegraph to get lunch, I pass the Plum Hollow Country Club and I can smell the fresh cut grass. Damn, I hate mowing the lawn, but it smelled so good today.

But then someone had to go and fuck it all up. I was at Telegraph and 9 Mile getting Subway for lunch. Walking across the parking lot, I was approached by a somewhat well-dressed woman. She said something that totally blindsided me. "Excuse me, sir...could you help me buy something to eat for my little girl?" Okay, this is the thing, I was in Southfield. Fucking Southfield. For those of you who aren't aware, Southfield is a suburb of Detroit. There's a lot of big business with offices in Southfield. Many local, national, and international advertising agencies are located in Southfield. Most of the Detroit area TV and radio stations are there or at least have offices there. When you go to a place like Subway in Southfield at noon on a Thursday afternoon, you stand in line with a bunch of (mostly white) people dressed in business casual. So, as I was saying, the last thing I expected was a panhandler. Now, I know you're probably thinking, "but Jeff, how do you know she was just asking for money?" I'll tell you. After I quickly got over the shock of what she was doing, I told her I could get an extra sandwich from Subway. She said no, that's okay, just give me the money and I'll get it for her myself. Riiiiight. I expect this sort of thing when I'm downtown in Detroit, but not in an affluent suburb. Am I being politically incorrect to say that this shouldn't be going on in a place like Southfield? Probably, but I really don't care. That line makes me uncomfortable anyway. At least she didn't actually have a kid with her as an accomplice. Those ones never want the food either, just the money. Five dollars gets you a rock, and the welfare check that came four days ago is already spent. Am I an asshole?

So after she says she just wants the money, I say "sorry, no" and keep moving, I get my sandwich, and head back to work with the windows down and the music loud, blissfully forgetting about the woman who tried to pull a fast one on me.


stop looking at me!

LATABOM*

I sit, and I sit, and I sit at this grey desk surrounded by grey fabric covered grey cubicle walls with the sunlight blocked by grey plastic vertical blinds next to my grey HP2100 laserjet printer staring at this monitor housed in a grey shell sitting on top of a CPU in a grey case next to my grey cell phone. The memos tacked to the grey fabric covered cubicle walls are all stark white with black print. My phone is black with grey and white buttons, my rolodex is black and white, the Swingline stapler that doesn't bind up like the Boston staplers is black and silver. The tiny speakers on either side of my grey CPU that are blaring Paul Westerberg are black. Grey digibeta and Beta SP tape cases are stacked down at one end of the grey desk. My mouse pad and wrist wrest are grey. This over-complicated and seriously adjustable office chair that I sit in is black, and the carpet underneath is grey. Trashcan to the left is black. I wear a grey melange t-shirt, and my shoes are black. I don't live in stereo, I work in monochromatic desolation. Then I step outside, and color returns to my life.

*LATABOM = "Lions, and Tigers, and Bears, oh my!"


stop looking at me!

5.04.2005

We Are All On Drugs

Weezer is a band that means a lot to a lot of people. Obviously, for some of us music is very important. Songs and sounds touch us in a way that we can't experience anywhere else. Weezer is one of those bands with a lot of songs that touch us for personal reasons.

So, the blue album was pure, perfect pop. Slightly edgy, yet vague lyrics. It sold millions and millions of copies. Its probably still selling millions of copies. Then came Pinkerton. Total bomb when it first came out. They said it was too personal, the music was too raw. That wasn't what the kids wanted. They wanted more of that perfect surf pop. Too fucking bad! The record was totally raw and personal, and was probably one of the biggest influences on poppy punk emo type stuff. Pinkerton was the Donnie Darko of records - it sold for shit when it came out, but sold huge in the years afterward. After that, Weezer went into seclusion for a couple of years. Rivers became a severe recluse, Matt Sharp started up the Rentals along with Petra Haden from that Dog. and the rest of the guys just kind of hung out and waited. Then, the big comeback, the green album. Self-titled just like the blue album. Much like the blue album, the green album was full of shimmery pop with vaguely emotional lyrics. It couldn't touch Pinkerton, and with the blue album already existing, there was no need for the green album. Its good, I'll give them that, but we didn't need another one. We needed more Pinkerton, more honest emotion and huge drums and under-produced guitars and dirty bass. In response, they put out Maladroit almost a year later. I think it was meant to be a foil to the green album, because in contrast Maladroit is like Weezer's metal album. They rock the fuck out on some tracks. But, it still ain't no Pinkerton.

At this point, I think most Weezer fans are ready to accept that the band will never go back to the raw sound of the second album, their triumph and peak. That being said, this latest album "Make Believe" isn't too bad. Not bad at all. Unlike the green and blue albums, it isn't over-produced perfect pop. The metal from Maladroit is missing. Production values are good, but not too glossy. Lyrics are a little half-assed at times, but I can forgive them that. I think I'm ready to really give them a chance again, knowing they'll never match Pinkerton. Here's the song by song breakadown.

  1. Beverly Hills: First single. A lot of people think this sounds like Cake, and I guess I can see why, but I don't agree. I like it, its something a little different for them.
  2. Perfect Situation: This one reminds me of a song off the green album, but I can't remember which one. Its just the intro that does that for me, but maybe its Rivers' guitar tone is just the same.
  3. This Is Such a Pity: At first I was referring to this as their 'Spandau Ballet' song. Not quite right, its just that it sounds like a random one-hit wonder '80s pop band with the keyboards and the rhythm. Maybe its more like Flock of Seagulls, I don't know. Odd, but they somehow pull it off. Doubters need not worry, I don't think this is a trend, its the only song like it on the album.
  4. Hold Me: A ballad that covers no new ground. Kind of disappointing, but what can you do? They're gettin' old.
  5. Peace: Not bad, but again, really just more retread filler.
  6. We Are All On Drugs: I don't know if this is a reaction or what. I've heard rumors that Rivers is a huge cokehead, and maybe this is his fuck you. Or maybe its a comment on the music scene these days, I don't know. Its hard to tell, but I'm sure this is meant as sarcasm in some way. This is a standout, like track 3, except without the keyboards and bad haircuts.
  7. Damage In Your Heart: Another good one. Kind of slower. I guess most of these songs are nothing groundbreaking and they do rip off some of the band's older ideas, but I guess if it works, why fuck with it? Good chorus.
  8. Pardon Me: This one definitely stands out. Mid-tempo, this one brings the album together a bit as far as solidifying the groove established in "Beverly Hills" (no, that doesn't mean the whole album sounds like Cake). Great chorus in this one, too. I could listen to this over and over again, and that's what makes a Weezer song worthwhile.
  9. My Best Friend: There's no doubt in my mind that this track reminds me of Sloan. Not only in the track title, but also in the big grandiose guitars. Fuckin' hell, that chorus is good when it's loud and you're driving fast, though!
  10. Other Way: Another mid-tempo track. This one is hooky, too. Good harmonies and handclaps. You can't go wrong with handclaps.
  11. Freak Me Out: Good ballad, something a little different. Simple, not too much going on, I like it.
  12. Haunt You Everyday: This one seems personal. In fact, this, and "Freak Me Out" both sound like Rivers' songs. Just like "Butterfly" on Pinkerton was so obviously written only by Rivers.

Over all, tracks two, four, and five are spotty at best. Too much recycling going on with those. That's not bad, the album is 75% good and interesting and hooky. Check it out for yourself when they play the State Theater in Detroit tomorrow night.


stop looking at me!

High Hopes

Last night, I saw "Amityville Horror." I've never seen the original, I've never read the book, but I've been getting a little into horror films lately, so I thought hey why not? First off, I can tell that I would like the book if I were to read it. There were some interesting things in the plot that were never fully developed. It could've been much more cerebral if they had gone further with these little things. Obviously, that's not what you want with a horror film, unless you're making the Blair Witch Project and you're trying to do something different. No one was trying to do anything groundbreaking with this one. There were lots of jump-cuts, vague fuzzy distorted voices in the background, shadows where there shouldn't be any people...typical tricks. The why and the how as to the house possessing the man of the house was never explored, and I think that could've pulled me in more. I guess the point was just to make a flashy horror flick that would make your girl grab you out of fear. Even that didn't happen, so maybe they didn't succeed. I've seen better, and I think now I want to see the original, and maybe read the book. By the way, I'm getting a little sick of this trend with pale, big-eyed, creepy little undead girls in horror films lately. Its getting old real quick.


stop looking at me!

5.02.2005

Fear & (Self) Loathing

Just like a lot of kids, I loved going to McDonald's when I was younger. It was part of my childhood. Being a single mom working and going to college and raising two kids, the McDeath was a lot easier for my mom than cooking. A lot of times she would take my sister and I there in the afternoon, and I'd ask if it was lunch or dinner, and she'd say it was "lun-dinner." Looking back on it, I would've thought it was funnier if she had said it was "dunch," but eh, what can I do about it now?

I always wanted a cheeseburger, but my mom would only get me a hamburger. Back then, I thought it was about her saving those extra twenty cents, but later I realized it was because even though she was feeding us the McDeath, she was in fact, a health nut. I always complained because I wanted that slice of oily cheese food so badly. Later, I started working and having LOTS of disposable income. So, of course, I started eating all the fast food I wanted because it was my money, and I was gonna spend it the way I wanted.

As you can probably guess, this was the second phase of me being brainwashed into believing that fast food was too easy. Too fast, too simple. Why bother actually cooking at home? I didn't want to be there anyway, it was too boring (this was in the early days of the world wide web, and we had a connection slower than paint drying). So, fuck it. I'd go to McDonald's and get two Big Macs because I could. I'd go to the Burger King by the record store I worked at and get a Whaler (pre-Big Fish) and a cheeseburger, because I could. No one was stopping me.

It wasn't until I moved to Detroit that I started eating a bigger variety of food. Being a line cook at the Majestic Cafe certainly helped that. The diversity in food opened up for me, and I didn't feel like I had to lower myself to the McDeath.

Some of the first that I had was actually from Der Weinerschnitzel, a hot dog chain that seemed to be only on the west coast. I've never seen one anywhere but around LA. I was five years old at that time. Then there was also Carl's Jr, which is owned by the same company that owns Hardee's. Carl's Jr is also mostly a west coast thing, too. Then there's the Frisco Burger at Hardee's...greasy cheese and deadcow and bacon and sourdough. For a while, Rally's had this double cheeseburger with bacon and onion rings and barbecue sauce. Remember the McRib at McDonald's? A long patty of pork(?) formed into a patty that looks like a small slab of ribs then soaked in barbecue sauce. That reminds me of the Beef N' Cheddar at Arby's, and the double cheeseburger at Wendy's with so much grease that the bun turns mushy. I was once a fast food slut, I admit it.

But things are different now. Its happened so slowly over the past few years. The summer before I turned 28, I started freaking out about my health. I tried to quit smoking altogether, slow down on the drinking, and cut out the McDeath. I'm still working on the smoking thing, I've definitely cut down on drinking, and I'm slowly getting away from the fast food. There's so much self-loathing after I eat fast food now. Most of it is eaten out of pure convenience after leaving the bar and I think I need to eat something, but I really don't, I just need a Gatorade, or a big glass of water. That is the worst self-loathing, because you pull up to that drive through and sit there at the speaker staring at this huge menu with a million greasy things that sound so good, and you get three different sandwiches because you want it all, but you get home, and you can't even finish one.

The last time it happened, I was sitting at the drive through a couple months ago at the Burger King on Woodward just north of New Center. It was almost 3am on a Sunday morning, and I thought I was hungry. I looked at the menu, and saw something about bacon, cheddar, ranch. I thought it was a burger, and it sounded good, because anything's good when ranch, cheese, and salty pig are involved, right? So I order it, and I get home, and it's freaking huge! I didn't realize until then that what I ordered was the thing that Hootie sings about in that weird cartoons-come-to-life-on-acid commercial. It was basically a bunch of really big chicken strips that were really just like big hunks of deep fried batter with a little bit of chicken as flavoring on the inside. Then there was I think a drop or two of ranch in there somewhere, maybe a strip of bacon, and the cheese was melted so much that it was really just unnaturally yellow plastic soaked into the bun. Nasty. I felt like such a sucker after eating two bites of it. They got me. I ain't touching that shit ever again. No more Burger King, that's one down. The creepy plasticine 'king' in the newer commercials isn't helping anything either. The last time I ate at Arby's I had bad heart burn, so I'm done with that one because I ALWAYS get bad heart burn when I eat Arby's. Taco Bell makes me feel like shit all day, like there's a rock sitting in my stomach. The one that sticks, though is McDonald's. Its there damned Filet-O-Fish. When it's good, it's sooo good. I only go at lunch time, and I order it special with extra cheese or something so that its fresh. I could never eat any fast food again, but I would still need to have a Filet-O-Fish from McDonald's once every couple of months.

One day I'll get over it. I love to cook, but I don't always have the time. Plus, I like to cook stuff that's best if its eaten right when its made, not stuff that you cook, then throw in a tupperware bowl and eat the next day for lunch. It just isn't the same that way.


stop looking at me!