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.

The Soft Machine

A Day In the Life...

The Good

• The only girl alive. Enough said.
• A hot and fresh Filet-O-Fish from McDonald's. McDeath is evil, but their fish sandwich is a guilty pleasure, especially when they don't fuck it up.
• Fast food breakfasts in small towns. Its always little old ladies working in the morning, and they really care about what they do. Always so nice, too.
• Barbed Wire Love. Goddamn, Stiff Little Fingers can write a good punk song. Okay, they wrote a lot of good punk songs.
• New Grenada and Thunderbirds Are Now! at Small's in Hamtronik tonight.
• The Undertones (!) at the Magic Stick in beautiful midtown Detroit tonight.
• rocknrollscientist at the Painted Lady in Hamtronik tonight. No, that doesn't mean I'll be putting my liver on display, it means I'll be DJing.
• Peel Sessions. I guarantee you that every single recorded Peel session you can find is good or at the very least interesting and revealing in some way. In the UK, you can only broadcast a small amount of pre-recorded music on the radio, so they have bands play live in the studio often, and John Peel (who passed away last year) was legendary for his broad and good taste in new music. All Peel sessions are available somehow, whether they're actually released or bootlegged, or shared on a peer-to-peer site somewhere.
• The White Stripes cover of the MC5's "Looking At You." Available only on a Peel session recording (I think). Its out of key and I think he fucks up some of the words, but its my favorite MC5 song, and its good to hear a good local band paying some respect.

The Bad

• Crimson, the new Alkaline Trio album. Okay, it's not bad, its actually good, but I don't like that they included some older songs for their big 'breakthrough' album. I don't know if its laziness, and they needed filler, or if these songs were specifically chosen because they're particularly good, or what, but I don't like this practice. The Sights did it on their first (and new) major label album, but its only two songs, and one of them was previously only available on a 45, so it's not as bad.
• Work. I fucking hate work. Work distracts us from life. I don't want to be distracted from life.
• Splenda. Sugar substitute. I've never knowingly had it until today when I purchased an Arizona Diet Green Tea with Ginseng. I got the diet because the normal version is just too damned sweet sometimes. I wanted to believe that Splenda wouldn't be as bad as Nutrasweet, but it still has that cloying aftertaste. I grew up in a house where there was never any regular pop, only diet. I grew to prefer it because it wasn't as sweet, but there's still that taste in my mouth...
• Quizno's. Expensive and tasty. Pure chewing satisfaction. Completely evil.

The Ugly

• Starbuck's Double Shot. These 6.5 oz cans of Jesus juice sell for as much as $3 at finer gas stations and party stores. I could just drink a couple cups of coffee for free at work, but noooo, I have to go and buy these little cans of liquid analgesic/speed. I'd be better off drinking a cup of coffee and downing an extra-strength Excedrin. I think that Starbuck's is a front for the worldwide Illuminatus conspiracy that controls the world's power and wealth. I'm sure they were more than a little worried when Starbuck's was portrayed as the front for Dr. Evil's organization in the second Austin Powers movie.
• Tom DeLay. What a piece of shit. Ethics in politics? What's that? True, most politicians at the federal level (hell, at every level) are a bunch of assholes, but this one didn't get away with it. What a fucking idiot.
• The City of Detroit, and the innumerable fuckups on the part of the mayor, city council, and the general municipal administration. What a bunch of fucking idiots.

Maybe I'll Catch Fire

I removed the post that was here. I felt it was too self-indulgent and boring.

I Have 8 Bosses, Bob

The red paperclips started talking to me again this morning. At least that punk-ass stapler is keepin' it's big mouth shut.

A Couple of Kooks Hung Up on Romancing*

Someone new and close to me recently told me that the best things in life are good food and good drink and good music. She's jaded, and I understand, but there's more, I said. It's the little things. They build up into huge things.

When I was younger, maybe ten, I went to my first concert. I already fanatically listened to the pop music that my mom was always filling our home with. That meant The Carpenters, Neil Diamond, The Monkees, early Beach Boys, '80s Dolly Parton, and James Taylor. I never really liked James Taylor, though. There was a Tubby's Subs in Port Huron where we went for lunch one day, and they had a contest to win tickets to the Monkees reunion show at Pine Knob. My mom won the contest, and we went to see the Monkees. Weird Al opened. I used to like him, but not after seeing him live. Whatever. That was it. I blame the Monkees for my descent into musical fanaticism. Soon after, I got tired of listening to the radio because it was the same shit over and over and over again, and it was driving a spike into my brain. Maybe when I was twelve, I was trying to find something different on the radio, and I found the local college station, WSGR-FM. First I heard "I.C. Water" from Psychic TV, which was a tribute to Ian Curtis from Joy Division, then I heard Jello Biafra's "Pledge of Allegiance." Shit, that was it.

Music became such a big part of my life that I didn't care about anything else at all. I barely graduated high school with my low attention span and distaste for algebra. Yet, I somehow finished in the top 25% of my class. I was that guy who could handle the classes without a problem, I just didn't give a shit. Same thing with college, too, actually. In my 10th grade English class, we had to memorize a poem and then read it. I read a song from Lou Reed's album "Magic and Loss." I think it was "The Sword of Damocles." See, all that mattered to me was music. When you're a teenager, and kind of a loner, what else could there possibly be? I had some friends, but no one I could really talk to. No one who liked the things I liked.

After that came community college and college radio. Within a year I was the music director on WSGR-FM. Of course it was meant to be. I was also the copy editor on the campus paper, and that was where I met this guy Ben. He was living in a local halfway house after getting out of prison on parole for something stupid like possession. Part of his deal was that the state would pay for him to go to college while he was living in the transitional house. Ben was a punk. I found my crowd. People who knew what I was all about. I should also add that right after high school, I became close with this girl Lori who I had been in school with since kindergarten. I never really knew her until after school, though. She's the first person who showed me that you can add good friends to good music as the best things in life. Ben and his crowd weren't really close friends, just people who understood me. There were so many people in those first three years after high school (1994-97) who showed me the little things in life that make it all worthwhile.

I don't really understand how one can go from being such a loner in school to knowing so many people that they can't keep them straight, but that's what happened. Then I moved to Detroit. That's where it really happened. There's something to be said for going out with good friends, having good brunch downtown, drinking ridiculously expensive Mimosas for hours, then just spending the rest of the day in someone's backyard barbecuing and drinking cheap beer and fiddling with the CD player, changing discs every three songs. Good food, good drink, and good music. But...this is where it becomes obvious. You have to add good people into it. And the little things. For some reason, on that sunny summer day last year, I was taking a lot of pictures with my digital camera. I must've taken 50 pics that day, and almost ALL of them were just people's feet. Or someone's head down in the corner with the wall in the house taking up the rest of the frame. Is that weird? Most of the photos came out really well. It's just something stupid and small, but again, it's the little things.

Now, I'm 29 years old. When I was a teenager, I never thought I'd make it to 30. Its not that I didn't want to or that I was afraid, its just that I really didn't think I'd make it. There's lots of good, and there's lots of bad. I have regrets. I've done some things that even I can't believe I've done. Breaking hearts, burning bridges that I'll work so hard to later rebuild, turning my back on my dad, living in ways that I can't afford to live, giving away my heart only to get it crushed like peanuts. But there are good things, too. Road trips for rock 'n' roll, unintentionally 'acting' in a documentary about a bar on the west side, getting drunk (and high) with rock stars, and ALL of the friends. These are just the things I can think of right now. In the past seven years here in Detroit, there have been so many good people in my life. I have at least three who I can easily call my chosen sisters. Thank you Amy and Angela and Shannon. I'd be nothing without you. Unfortunately, Tim, my chosen little brother is no longer with us. I miss him, but I will move on with him at my side in spirit.

I barely know where I was going with this anymore. I'm just rambling. Digression is the spice of life. The little things aren't so little, I guess. They're big things. Good food and good drink is fine. I like it. But there's more. I'm weak, my heart has been broken a few times, but I move on, and I don't blame anyone. I used to think you can't always get what you want, but maybe serendipity is on our side. Maybe it's karmic reaction, I don't know.

To the only girl alive, there's more to life than good food and good drink and good music, there's also good people. I want you to remember that, and if you can't, then I'll show you.

*listen to David Bowie.

Throwaway Style

Something just occurred to me. I had a good discussion last night about death and religion and all that, and then it was on my mind again just now. Personally, I believe in reincarnation. However, I don't believe in it for the same reasons as the religions who are all up in it. The Eastern religions like Buddhism, Hindu (and all its varieties), and Krsna all believe that you are reincarnated many, many times (thousands usually) in an effort to achieve supreme enlightenment. When you reach this final full realization of your relationship with your maker, you attain Nirvana, or Paradise, or Heaven, or whatever your particular brand of religion chooses to name it. So, anyway. I don't agree with that part. I don't think that our goal is to reach a final and complete understanding of our relationship with the supreme almighty whatshisname. I guess I see it on a more personal and selfish level.

Look at it this way, what if our maker is our Earth? I don't know shit about pagan or Wiccan religions, so don't go thinking that's where this is headed. Take it from an Evolutionist standpoint. If everything evolved in the way it did so that we can be here today, wouldn't that make nature our creator? So, if you're reincarnated over and over again, you become closer to earth. Maybe you become more acquainted with all of the mistakes we've made as industrialized and greedy humans. Think about it, 300 years ago in 1705, no one was thinking about taking care of the planet. They weren't evolved enough. Does evolution include reincarnation? Do we have to learn from our mistakes and keep coming back again and again to learn from them?

Also, I was thinking, if we keep coming back, do we keep coming back to certain people for certain reasons? Haven't I met you before somewhere? I know we've talked before. I swear.

(with apologies to The Only Girl Alive for that last line, even though I think it's funny, it just makes me a mean boy, right?)

I Know All There is To Know About Nothing At All

Good good things this week:

• Plain, black coffee. Not hazelnut-blueberry-vanilla-spice, just plain old, overpriced Sumatran coffee dark roasted with no creamer, no sugar.
• Free cigarettes. Who can resist? Even if they are menthol.
• New Sights album came out this week. You can get it here. Finally, their amazing cover of Mahalia Jackson's "I'm Going to Live the Life I Sing About In My Song" is available to all, and not just 45 collectors. I've been watchin' these kids since they were still in high school. You need to check this out. Also, the record release show will be this Thursday at the Magic Stick. Read about that here
• The Hard Lessons. A newer rockin' band from Detroit. Drums, guitar, and organ. Male and female vocals. Stax/Volt soul meets '60s rock. They're playing the Magic Stick with New Grenada, the Recital, and the Trembling for the "One Scene to Another" release show. Go here for more info on that. I caught them on Monday at the Belmont for an unadvertised show. It was hot.
• The little things. More on that later.
• New Thunderbirds Are Now! album. It's called "Justamustache." They've slowed down a bit since the last album. Focusing more on songwriting and a more mature sound. Most of the hyper spaz is gone, the singing is actually singing and not just shouting, and it's an all around good record. Reminds me a lot of their former labelmates Radio Berlin, who have a slightly more goth edge to their sound.
• New Human Eye record, which seems to be self-titled. They've moved past their earlier sound that easily recalled Chrome, and replaced it with a slightly improv sound. A couple songs have horns, one of them has trombones! Recommended if you like weirdo robot punk.
• Tonight! Gris Gris, Indian Jewelry (former NTX+Electric and Swarm of Angels people), and White Devil all at the Painted Lady in Hamtramck, MI. It's probably $5 at the door, I'm sure it's 18 and over only, and the first band will probably start between 10:30 and 11pm. Plus, I'm DJing. You just can't beat that. It's a chance for me to play more of the avant-robot-weirdo stuff that I like so much.
• Death From Above 1979 at the Lager House on Saturday. Trust me. Go here to read a little bit about them, listen to some songs. They're playing with Lee Marvin Computer Arm, who you also must see if you haven't. Imagine if At the Drive In actually had soul and knew what rock n roll was meant to be. That gives you an idea. Controller.Controller is also playing. There will be two shows, and early one for the kiddies, and a later one for us adults. Honestly, I don't know what time the earlier one is, because no one has posted it anywhere. If you don't already know, DFA1979 is insane. Two guys: blown-out bass, and drums. They take turns singing, and sometimes sing together. Their sound is like Black Sabbath with soul. That sounds cheesy, but really, it's not.
• McSweeney's Lists. Check them out here. Mandatory daily reading.
  

I'm Lovin' It

Okay, I have to post this. It's too good. It's from my friend Shannon, who lives in NYC. She posted it yesterday elsewhere online, but I wanted to make sure everyone else got a chance to see it. Check it out.

I'm Lovin' It
"I'm going to Mc Donalds and if you don't like it fuck off. i'm gonna eat a fuckin double-whopper-big-mac-crispy-fish-chicken-of-theday-piece of shit hangin out of my mouth-greasy fake cow guts chin and playdo fries . and nobody can stop me. HUSH! shhhhhhhh. dont say a word. i'm gonna get a rock hard apple pie and chase it with orange drink like we used to have at t ball games. i'm gonna pour the whole tank over my body of suffering arteries as the hopeless and sad unaccomplished 65 year old indian people behind the service counter send the little retarted boy to clean up the sticky swamp of orange glowing goober and crusty french fry mess of puke from the sorry corner table i will sit and swap war stories over coffeee with the man with the eye patch and smelly lady who takes no sugar but half milk. and then i'll fuckin smack one of those little thug kids who hangs out after school and cant ever seems to make it home because mommy and daddy forgot to use a condom when they unfortunately bred the little heathen into existence. i'll smack him with a french fry, or a dollar bill as he begs for it as i make a hasty and embarressed exit out the doorway to gluttonous america world and the 6 o clock sun shines on my pale white chicken skin."

I posted this earlier today and received such a high number of overwhelming responses to my rant, that i feel it is neccessary to brief you all, my friends, on the actual events which occured following my "Mickey D's" craving on Monday April the 11th 2005 at 5:38 pm. Here goes. stay with me people, its simply an addition to my ongoing analyzation of myself, the "odd" one who exists in this "normal" world. I think we may be onto something, and we can recognize the following as a major breakthrough in the successes of my newfound experimentation known as "life: i see you":::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Making my way toward 31st street in Astoria on that evening, i squinted at the beaming sun in the clear blue sky as my pace evolved into a strut of confidence to the tune of "more than this" by Roxy Music blaring into my small and fragile eardrums. I had just notified jeff that the mission was now underway, and i had begun my journey toward the golden arches. Anxieties began to arise in the back of my mind as i sent two final text messages, and i stood in front of the glass store front, underneath the pigeons pooing above my head from the elevated train platform i would stall beneath. One message: to jeff and johnny, "i'm goin in". And wouldn't you guess? they did not stop me. trustworthy friends whose opinions i cherish, they each sent me a silent text of luck in my endeavor, as i waltzed into the wood-grain paneled zoo of meat and cheese.

First sight: a line, of at least 15 people. Old people, young people, little rats carrying balloons from a birthday party being held on the lower level. the smell of sweat and blood and dirty homeless people scavenging for salty fry bits permeated the air. it was enough of a scene for any self respecting individual to pull out a previously concealed uzi and gun the sorry corner of society out of its hopeless misery. but not i. i apparently had not recently weighed my self respect, because i was going in for the kill. I joined the line.

I tried to ignore what was passing on around me. all of my predictions were true. Old indian lady behind register- check. 25 employees behind counter salting one bag of french fries and one open register (run by non english speaking old indian lady) check. hoodlums with basketballs scraping pockets for change to buy big macs- check. retarded man mopping floor with shit smelling mop near ketchup and napkin stand- check. man standing NEXT TO ME as if there are two lines when all 50 of us waiting for our slow grease bomb playdo burger deaths have already formed single file! Bastard. Business man in front of me. 5 employees stuggling to carry 2 plates each of kiddie birthday cake down the stairs to what must be an even smellier disgusting dungeon of playland (that some MORON booked a party for their poor later to be really really ignorant as an adult if they even make it there life child), when every nite i carry like 5 martini stems at once through a CROWDED SPORTS BAR. but they needed 15 hands i guess, so what the heck. - check.

And then it happened. i did it. the man tried to step up to the reg before me (mr. 2nd line formation, that is), and i blocked his shit. straight up. i defended my place in line. It was like it occured in slow motion, as the words escaped my lips, my mind pitied my sad moment of existence in which i was actually trying to get MY mcdonalds crap feed on before some other sad individual. But the deed was done, and i quickly cut the man off "there's only one line sir...." (slow motion, defending my team of followers filed behind me). And like any jerk, i had no idea what i even wanted when i got to the counter. after all, it all tastes like throw up, right?

So i chose the ..9 (filet of fish ( pretty safe actually in my opinion) and in a fit of filthy "there is no way this is going to feel okay once you engage in what you are about to do" (like everytime i have ever smoked pot in my life, when i know i shouldn't do it because it makes me CRAZY paranoid and sick and i NEVER have fun doin it, but always try it again once in a while to see if i still have a miserable reaction to it...), i order the dreaded cheeseburger, straight up. and as the cashier plops down my burger like a fat lady landing on the left end of a piano and my total pops up on the little black screen in front of me, i interrupt the cash transaction ( all one dollar bills of course) to order a glimmer of my childhood on plymouth road with my nana; hot fudge sundae.

So i scrape out the extra dollar and pay as i get my change back and drop the 32 cents or whatever into the ronald mcdonald house-shaped bucket to my left as the hefty man i cut off approaches the counter and orders something that resembles what lies before me on my ugly brown tray. i dont get napkins (thats what sleeves are for) but i pump my ketchup sludge into the crappy too tiny paper cup waste of tree so i can dip my french fries.

Then i have to find a seat. i'm at a mcdonalds in queens, people. its alot like an average mcdonalds. you have your regulars of course, the coffee slurping oldies of whom i spoke before, and the lunatic hooligans in really long tshirts that go beyond their knees and wrinkle beneath their nike shoe purchase "backpacks" that they carry their guns and drugs in. i don't want to sit next to them, but like a moron, i chose "to stay" rather than "to go". a bunch of old greek people hover in the corner. they look as though they are dressed from a funeral earlier that day. they probably are. "poor spiro's wife" i imagine them muttering over their empty table tops. don't want to go there either. a woman with her small children looks distressed as she searches for a spot as well, and i choose a dirty booth in front of the garbage can. its a better choice than the ugly sagging faced women sitting at my view to the left, or the old crusty man sitting in front of me with eighteen sugar packet coffee who cant help but stare at me. i watch 2 young couples around my age walk in the door and then retreat as they giggle about what they almost ate if they had made it twelve paces further. i feel sick. i havent even touched my food yet. i'm half plugging my nose from the stench of my fellow human beings as the man creepily stares and the two ugly women fail to communicate with one another over their dinner. clearly, all of these ghouls are "lovin' it", and i am about to as well as i bite into the filet of fish.

The first sandwich goes down nicely. it had been housed in a strangely retro looking blue box. i admire the design of the container. simple-looking. i swig my dr. pepper and munch on some fries as my dessert melts before me. "gotta eat fast before dessert melts" i chant in my mind. then i reach for the 100% beef cheeseburger before me. (thats what the paper wrapping says, although it does not describe what TYPE of beef, i suppose we are ignorant enough as humans to find some sort of solas in the fact that it is beef, and yes, 100%...eeewwwgh) Great, beef sounds good. I take a bite and i tastes like drunken homeless pee pant puke. i take another bite and scrape away some of the never meant to be melted cheese from the edge of the round breaded disc in my hand. i stare at it. the man stares at me. the scene is making me feel disgusting, the thug kids begin trashing their garbage in the can beind me as the back of my booth clangs and rumbles from their inability to make it in the container in first, second, fifth try. eventually they do. and then as they leave, a store employee begins changing the trash.

As i try to shove the poo like food into my mouth, i give up. i stall. i hang my head in sorrow. i will absolutely become ill if i take one more bite. i cant even afford to counteract the sandwich with a fry. i collect my belongings and drop at least 3/4ths of my would be "meal" into the garbage. i do take the sundae. this is how it always ends, i should have known better. as i turn to silently assess the carnage i had just experienced, a smelly homeless man enters the restaurant. i pat my self on the back for my good timing, and as i walk up the steps to the train platform, i have two scoops of dessert and toss the cup in the trash.

I sent jeff a mission accomplished notice, and he texts me back "do you feel bloated". yes jeff, i do. and it is 12 hours later and i still do. damn you ronald mcdonald. damn YOU! and of course, when the timing is right again someday- i will fulfill my craving once again. but for the moment- i will tell myself that i am never going near that shit hole again.

Understanding Shannon's perspective and reasons for this odyssey may be difficult for some of you. See, for us carnivores who are enlightened members of society, we have to deal with persecution by our vegetarian and vegan friends. I'm not saying that all 'veggies' are political about their choice of diet, but many are. We also understand and acknowledge that McDeath is bad for us and the world as a whole. But...sometimes you just gotta have that slimey, greasy crap. We always regret it later, but if it's actually hot and fresh, and if the experience of getting the grease bombs isn't too bad, it's worth it at the time. I can't explain it, it's just one of those weird things that people do.

Strange Fruit

Oh my god, what a weekend. My life is a rollercoaster. Stop the world, I want off.

Jesus of Suburbia

I admit it. For all of my "I heard them first" and "I'm over it" record snob bullshit, the first time I heard Green Day was when their third album came out: "Dookie." My punk rock scorecard was in the negatives before it ever began.

So, when Dookie came out in 1994, I was working at a record store in a small town an hour north of Detroit. Of course it was big, and in the wake of the 'alternative' successes of Nirvana, anything remotely different (and young) sounding was rotated to death on mainstream radio and MTV. I got sick of it right away. The owner of the store asked me if I thought we should order the band's older albums and I said it was a good idea because the kids are eating it up. I quickly tired of Dookie and latched onto the older records.

But then college radio happened and I suddenly had access to so much new music. I had a four hour show each week to explore everything going on in modern music. For me at the time, most of that was punk. Fat Wreck Chords started getting big, I discovered the other joys (besides early Green Day) of Lookout! Records like Screeching Weasel and the Queers and Green Day was left behind. They got too corporate for me. Okay, the band didn't, but the marketing of their music did. So I left them behind. The album "Warning" from 2000 had an interesting single, but I was too wrapped up in the local garage and trash-rock to care. Then it happened.

Their latest album, "American Idiot" from 2004 started creepin' up on me. I kept hearing the first single ("American Idiot"). I would come across it on MTV in a rare and brief moment when they were playing a video AND it wasn't a mediocre hip hop or r'n'b video. Then, barely an hour after going to the second of two funerals within a few days, I was at a bar downtown, and someone had asked them to put on American Idiot. Maybe it's just because I was in an emotional state, but it stuck with me.

Three months later, I gave in. I just got it two days ago and I can't stop listening to it. It's a fucking rock opera. Yeah, you read that right, I said rock opera. Like "Tommy" or "The Wall." Seriously. Two songs into it, and they hit you with "Jesus of Suburbia," a medley (or is it a suite?) that's almost ten minutes long. I'm floored. Early on in the song, the verses follow the chord progression and vocal phrasing of Motley Crue's "On With the Show." I am impressed. They got my attention. Then it speeds up, then it slows down and goes into an early motown riff. Amazing. I'm a seriously opinionated bastard when it comes to music, but I like this a lot. The protagonist of the story seems to be St. Jimmy. I can't quite figure out the plot (if there is one), but the record is engaging. There's so much that grabs me. Themes of isolation, loneliness, depression, disgust with American consumerism and greed.

I could get all esoteric and write something about the philosophy going on with the album, or the parallels with The Who's "Tommy," but I won't. You don't need that, you don't want that. What you do need to know is that Green Day can no longer be discounted as just another '90s punk band putting out records that all sound the same. The songwriting, the lyrics, and the themes have progressed, the band has evolved, and hopefully they'll be around much longer.

The True Adventures of I, Fuzzbot

I'm feeling it today. Not sure what 'it' is, but it feels right. It's been a good week. I had Monday off for jury duty. They let me go at 10:30am. That was easy. Didn't go back to work, just fucked around the rest of the day. I need that sometimes. Workin' 9 to 5 can really get to you. Tuesday, an innocent visit to the bar for a pint or two turned into me going to a show at St. Andrew's, getting faced, then going to the State Bar and getting more faced. Hung out with some people I don't see often enough. Got to see Jimmy behind the bar instead of on top of it. Wednesday, I DJed to a good crowd. Thursday, I had some good personal epiphanies and went to dinner with Amy. Today I have a half-day and I think I'm going to buy some music. Maybe I'll wash my car. Okay, maybe I'll just pay someone else to do that.

Tonight is the Thunderbirds Are Now! record release show at the Magic Stick. Holy Fire, Rescue, and The Recital are also playing. Everyone should be going to this show. After that, everyone should get their asses over to the Painted Lady for the Human Eye record release show. Not sure who's opening, and I'm sure they're good, but you really should try to make it out to one of the two shows. Saturday night, I DJ at the Garden Bowl in beautiful midtown Detroit. The patio is up, the sun is out, the rock won't stop. Where will you be? Sunday, Ash is playing the Magic Stick with the Bravery. Don't care for the latter, but the former will rock you. Do it. Burn it all down.

Fast Food is the Opiate of the Masses

I came across something interesting today while perusing a copy of Maxim at work. It's kinda like the excuse for 'reading' Playboy. It's all about the articles, right? This time there was actually an interesting article in there. I was pleasantly surprised. It was about something called Biodiesel. I had never heard about this before. The article was mostly about one man's efforts to convince the country to convert, but it's actually a full-fledged movement that began with Rudolf Diesel's invention of the now well-known Diesel engine. He first showed his engine at the World's Fair in 1900. The original model used peanut oil. He predicted that vegetable oil would eventually become as viable as petroleum products as fuel for engines.

Basically, biodiesel is the use of oils that come from sustainable and renewable sources like peanut oil and soybean oil. This also means that with a little bit of filtering, the oil that's used to fry fast food can be used to fuel your car. From reading some of the articles and press reports on the site biodiesel.org, it sounds like it's gaining ground all over the place. Mostly in corporate fleet vehicles and airplanes, but that's still a big deal. It will be interesting to see where this goes, because it could also mean that in time, when the US has been occupying any random country in the Middle East for ten more years, there will no longer be an excuse. Shit, as it is, most of our oil doesn't even come from the Middle East, it comes from South America and the North Sea. But that's off-topic. Check out biodiesel.org.

I used to do drugs, I still do, but I used to, too.*

I've added some new links today over there on the left-hand side of your screen.

Everyone should know Howard Zinn. Or at least everyone should read his stuff. Remember history class in high school? All you got to read was half the story, and it's usually from a biased perspective. What Zinn does is give you history without the bias from more fair perspectives. You don't know shit about the history of this country until you've read "The People's History of the United States: 1492 to Present" by Howard Zinn. It will floor you. Seriously. Not only is he a college professor who's taught history his whole life, but he was there in the beginning of what is now referred to as "The Movement." That would be the Civil Rights Movement. I capitalize that because it's a serious piece of our history and many of us don't know much of anything about it. He helped to influence several college students to get involved and demonstrate and stage protests in the south. Zinn was also involved in the leaking of the Pentagon Papers to the press. If it weren't for Zinn, I wouldn't know about this, but the Pentagon Papers more or less proved that the president of the United States is not infallible, and that the US Government was in Vietnam under false pretenses. In short, they lied to the public about the reasons behind the Vietnam War. Zinn also chronicled the labor movement in this country with incredible detail. It's shocking, too, that much of that history is hard to find. You can find the point of view of the factory owners, but it wasn't until a few years ago that information started coming to light from the worker's perspective. This is because in the beginning (in this country), labor unions were seen as being one step away from Socialism. And that was a bad thing. So, much of the history has been suppressed. All I'm trying to say here is that anyone who appreciates non-fiction books that pull you in because they're so interesting should be reading Howard Zinn. Anyone who wants to know the real history of this country should read Howard Zinn.

One of the other new links is for McSweeney's. I'm still a little unclear as to what this is, but I like it. It seems to be the online version of a quarterly literary publication. I think. They might also be a publisher, I'm not sure. I know that the authors Dave Eggers and Sarah Vowel are involved, especially Eggers. Some days there's new stuff, some days there isn't. There are some regular features like poems and lists. The lists are my favorite part, I think. It seems like they don't accept public submissions, so it's a specific short list of authors who are involved. An example of a recent list is "Bartlett's Familiar Quotations," by Martin Bell. This shit is so funny. It's basically a list of made-up quotations from Bartlett himself (whose namesake book of Familiar Quotations is well known). Example: "... and I said, 'Yeah, and you can "quote" me on it!' Ha, ha!" I love this stuff.

*Mitch Hedberg, RIP

Heart Attack American

Don't ask, because even I don't know how I come across this stuff. I was checking out Fark just now, and I came across a weird link. It's a test to see how much of a Jehovah's Witness you are. I was intrigued. Being wary of organized religion, I instantly assumed it was a test that no matter what would tell you that you're a JW, and that everyone is actually a JW, they just don't know it. The thought of this made me sick, being told that just because I may have some similar ideals, I fit in someone else's dogma. Fuck that. So, I went to the site. Here's the link. You just answer the questions, and then it tells you how much of a Jehovah's Witness you may or may not be. It turns out, the test was written by an ex-Jehovah's Witness who obviously has some issues. These are my results: "You are 30% Jehovah's Witness!" This is based on only ten questions. These ten questions could make 50% of the world at least 1% JW. It's bullshit, really, but I liked some of the explanations that were given.

How do you view the Bible?
The Bible is bunk
This is not good. The Jehovah's Witnesses believe that the Bible is fully-inspired of God. They believe that "the" Bible is the collection of 66 books found in the King James version, though they also feel that their own unique translation is the best one available. If you can't accept Noah's Ark, people conversing with donkeys, and people being executed for lying about real estate transactions, then JW's probably aren't for you.
I thought that last sentence of the explanation was especially funny, because those are the sorts of reasons that make me think the bible is bunk.

What is the most important quality you look for in a church leader?
Honesty, Integrity
You might not fit in so well at a Kingdom Hall. Jehovah's Witnesses choose their leaders based first on quantities of service, then qualities listed in the Bible. Honest men of integrity that don't spend enough time in the door-to-door preaching work, or don't show up for all of the five weekly meetings will not become leaders among Jehovah's Witnesses.
The only church leaders I do respect are the ones who are genuine, honest, and full of integrity.

How often do you feel like attending church?
Once in awhile
This would be a problem. Jehovah's Witnesses have five mandatory meetings a week, usually combined into three days. If you regularly miss any of them, you would be viewed as "weak". You wouldn't have many friends, since none of them would want you to drag them down.
FIVE MANDATORY MEETINGS A WEEK?!? Who has time for that?

How much of your time do you spend in recreational/family activities?
10%
From Jehovah's Witnesses' standpoint, that's quite a bit of time to spend on non-spiritual activities. Are you attending all five weekly meetings, studying for them ahead of time, and meditating carefully on them afterward? Are you going in the door-to-door preaching work as much as possible? Are you keeping up with your reading of new Watchtower publications? It's hard to believe you're taking care of these "more important things", and still able to devote so much time to secular pursuits.
Seriously, stop the insanity! It's starting to sound more and more like a cult.

How do you feel about people controlling who your friends are?
It's none of their business
Among Jehovah's Witnesses there is very little that is 'none of their business'. This would be considered an attitude problem that you would need to work out of yourself as you 'put on the new personality'. Before you could be accepted among Jehovah's Witnesses, you would need to be willing to let them control who you associate with, what movies you see, what books you read, and even what sorts of intimacy you enjoy with your spouse.
NO outsiders will be telling me shit about what kind of "intimacy I enjoy with my spouse." The mind control stops here.

How important are your family members to you? (Mother, brothers, cousins)
I see them occasionally
This is good, since if your family members are not Jehovah's Witnesses, you will be discouraged from spending much time with them. If you do spend time with them, you'll be expected to preach to them about your new faith as much as possible. Chances are good after a few of these preaching visits, your family will want to spend even less time with you than you do with them.
Okay, it's totally a cult. There's no question any more.

You view holidays as opportunities to:
Reunite with old friends and family
Jehovah's Witnesses view all holidays as inherently bad. There are different objections to different holidays, but in the end they are all considered inappropriate. Since Jehovah's Witnesses will discourage you from spending time with your relatives anyway, they will certainly not accept you spending holidays with them. If this is truly important to you, then the Kingdom Hall is not going to work.
These people scare me almost as much as Republicans.

Soaring With Eagles At Night to Rise With the Pigs At Dawn

Do NOT Go Back To Work

I had jury duty today. Two years in a row I've had to go down to the Third Judicial Court at the Frank Murphy Hall of Justice in Detroit. The same thing happened both times, I get there, check in, wait a couple of hours, my name doesn't get called, and I'm let go by 11am. They give you a letter stating that you were there all day (it's probably easier that way), and that's it. You're done.

Ever gone to jury duty before? I still haven't had to actually go to a courtroom and get questioned by a judge or counsel or anything. The whole thing is fascinating in a way. They tell you to get there by 7:45am even though the building doesn't open until 8am. This is just because they know Detroiters, and they know half of the people who were called up will be late. You wait in line outside the building, you finally get inside, and you have to go through a metal detector. The ladies have to put their purses on an x-ray conveyor, and then security still has to look through the purses anyway. I had the bad fortune to be in line behind a man who has obviously never had to go through a metal detector at municipal building before. He must've had three pounds in change in his pants pockets. Luckily I got passed around him by the guards because I was all set by the time I got to the front.

By all set I mean that I had my wallet out. I had taken out the silver dollar from 1900 that my grandpa gave me when I was a kid. I had my keys out, and I left the remote key fob thingy in my car because I don't know if it uses radio frequencies or if it's not allowed or whatever. I had no change in my pockets, no pens like normal. My lighter and cigarettes were back in the car. Plus, I took off my belt ahead of time because I know better. Unfortunately, I forgot to leave my pocket knife in the car, so I ended up tossing that in the trash before I went in. I was running late (cuz I'm a Detroiter, see?), and my car was a block away. It was a cheap knife anyway. I was afraid of trying to stash it in the landscaping somewhere for fear of looking like a terrorist hiding weapons. Is that too much hysteria? Tom Ridge did a good job at making the Office of Homeland Security one of the most irritating creations of the Bush administration.

Saved By the Buoyancy of Citrus

Forgotten

Update on the post below:

I still haven't heard anything from the purveyors of the site that uses my site's name in their URL. A friend pointed out to me that their domain name is ".blogpot.com", not "rocknrollscientist.blogspot.com" so they probably scan through all the Blogspot sites and add those onto their blogpot domain. It's annoying nonetheless.

I want to add something else. I am not specifically Christian, and I have issues with many of the world's organized religions. But, I do have respect for some. I've come across too many zealots who don't care what I think or what I have to say, they only want to push their dogma and ideals on me. That's where they lose my respect. This past Sunday, I went to a mass at St. Leo's Catholic church in Detroit, MI. Normally, that would be the last place you would find me. But, this was a memorial mass for a close friend. I knew that he respected the church's bishop, but I didn't know why. The mass itself was nice, if a bit long, but everyone was so nice. No one was pushy about their beliefs, they were just genuine. I respect that immensely.

The next day, I went online to research the bishop because I was curious why Tim respected him so much. Bishop Tom Gumbleton was first ordained as a priest in 1956 when he was only 26. He was only 38 when he was ordained as a bishop in the archdiocese of Detroit. If you go to the AOD's site and check out the other Detroit bishops, their biographies are somewhat boring. But then go to Gumbleton's bio. The charity work and education just goes on and on and on. The man's a machine! Just this month he was in Ireland to show solidarity with five peace protesters who were on trial for allegedly damaging a U.S. war plane at a protest at Shannon Air Force Base three years ago. That protest was against the U.S. using an Irish base for their planes going to Iraq. Also, he turns 75 this year. To hear him speak at mass, you would never know he was that old. The Catholic Church requires that bishops and priests retire when they turn 75, but Gumbleton has no intention of doing that. He is definitely a priest who I can respect. That is rare.

I, For One Would Like to Welcome Our New Insect Overlords

A friend recently pointed out something to me. This is the thing, the actual URL to this website is http://rocknrollscientist.blogspot.com. You don't have to type that to get to the site, because I own the domain name rocknrollscientist.com. So, you can just type in that and get to the site. Or, you can type in the part with 'blogspot'. It doesn't really matter, they'll both take you to the same place. My friend Audrey emailed me yesterday to show me what happens if you accidentally type http://www.rocknrollscientist.blogpot.com. It's a religious site. Christian is the flavor. Right-wing sicko fundamentalist Christian. The real skeery types who go on and on about satan all the time. So, I finally had some time to deal with this today. I emailed them to find out why they're using an URL that is way too close to being the same as mine. This is what I said in the email:

Hello,I have a question. Is there a particular reason why you have chosen to use a URL that is so obviously intended to draw visitors based on people mis-typing the URL to my site? I own the domain rocknrollscientist.com. However, my site can also be reached at rocknrollscientist.blogspot.com. The '.com' URL forwards to the 'blogspot.com' URL. The reason I am irked by this is that I am not Christian, and would rather not be associated with your site. Please don't bother harassing me about my choice of faith, it's none of your business. Please also don't bother praying for me because I don't want your charity. Please just tell me why you are using the URL rocknrollscientist.blogpot.com. Your site obviously has absolutely nothing to do with rock and roll or science, so you are misleading people. One more thing: spell-check and grammar-check are really easy to use in Microsoft Word as well as every other web-page creation application. Look into it. It's too bad there isn't a dogma-check, too, because you need it.

I can't wait to see what they say in their response.

Reclamation

These are our demands...we want control of our bodies

I have no idea what Ian Mackaye specifically had in mind when he said that in the 1991 song "Reclamation" from the Fugazi album "Steady Diet of Nothing." But, it's come to mind a lot lately. Every time I hear anything about the Terry Schiavo issue, I think of "Reclamation." I cringe and think about how the Republicans will use this case in some way to further their goals concerning abortion and similar 'right-to-life' issues. Don't we have the right to not have our bodies be used for political gain? Fucking George W. Bush had to get up in the middle of the night last Sunday to sign something from Congress (who had an emergency weekend session) declaring that they want the feeding tube re-inserted. In the middle of the night! That's usually only for declarations of war and shit like that. After the case has been in Florida state courts for years, and the Florida Supreme Court finally ruled that the tube can be removed, W still felt the need to say, "you know what? We don't trust the states' opinions or courts, so why don't y'all eat shit and (don't) die? Cuz killin's wrong."

Have you noticed that, too? His accent's almost gone. He's starting to talk like an intelligent human being. There was an article in Monday's Wall Street Journal that noted how much the Shrub's language has changed from the 2004 to the 2005 State of the Union address. He stopped saying "mah" in place of "my" and now he's actually pronouncing the 'g' in '-ing' words. His drawl is suspiciously missing from his speeches. The twang that he used to speak in is referred to by linguists as an Inland Southern accent. He used it to great effect to gain points with the red states, which as we all know are mostly in the south and southwest.

Now that he needs to actually gain the approval of the world to attain his imperialistic and self-serving goals, he needs to give off the appearance of an intellectual who sounds like a US president. He's still just a cokehead trust fund kid to me. I don't care how well he speaks.

Never As Tired As When I'm Waking

Coming soon, essays on post-Afghan Whigs Greg Dulli, post-Repeater Fugazi, and some other stuff. I promise. I've been lazy. Gimme a break.

Orthographic Projection

Last Call for Vitriol

I probably shoulda written this back on Wednesday, but work has been a little busy lately. So, Tuesday night, I unexpectedly went to a show at the Shelter. I didn't mean to. I was aware that the show was coming up, and I was curious, but I didn't intend to go. Next thing I know, there I am.

Remember the band Superdrag? They were great power pop type stuff. I think they had three or four albums altogether. I saw them on their last tour a year and a half ago at the Magic Stick (Detroit). It was really good. Just simple aggressively poppy rock and roll. Kinda like later Husker Du or the Replacements. I guess they broke up last year, and now John Davis, the singer is out on tour in support of his new solo album.

He played the Shelter on Tuesday, and I got there in time to miss all the opening acts, which is good because that may have been painful. I think there were maybe twenty people in the room altogether. Pretty bad considering that at least nine of those people were either employees or people who got in for free (like me). The first couple of songs weren't too bad. He had a full band with him; he was playing guitar, and then organ, he had a bassist, another guitarist and a drummer. After the second song, NO ONE was talking, and my friend felt the need to change that. It was so dead quiet, he just felt like there should be at least a little bit of noise between songs. He started going on about the new Star Wars movie. I thought it was funny. After the third song, Davis said that they were going to play the whole album because that's all they know. One of the bartenders yelled out to ask how many songs were on the album. Davis answers: "twelve." Bartender yells: "what track number was that one you just played?" Davis answers: "three." A few songs later we got up and left, and when I say 'we', I mean five of the twenty people (all of us are either employees or friends of) were suddenly gone. I felt bad, but it had to be done. This is why:

The songs that we did hear were good, they were poppy late-Beach Boys type songs. John Davis is a good songwriter and musician, there's no doubt about that. But...this is the thing: after Superdrag broke up, he quit drinkin', he quit doin' drugs, and he found Jesus. Don't get me wrong, there are musicians out there who can get away with that sort of thing, but when you come from something completely opposite...it has to be a hard transition. If I hadn't ever seen or heard them before, I might have liked the show more, but it was a bit much at times. I did like the first line of the third or fourth song: "every night is Saturday night, and I fucking hate it." I can relate to that. The next song kept going on about salvation and that killed it for me.

Is there life for John Davis after Superdrag? Maybe, I don't know. Others have done it, but the whole Jesus thing will hurt him, like it or not. A good example (minus Jesus) would be Bob Mould after Husker Du broke up. Several solo albums and several albums as Sugar, and he's still going strong. I also like Greg Dulli's 'solo' work a lot, too. He has no actual solo albums, just his post-Afghan Whigs work with Twilight Singers. More on that later.

I Don't Want To Be Defeated I Don't Want To Be Defeated

Pride no longer has definition
Everybody wears it, it always fits
A state invoked for the lack of position
Strength is the bait that keeps us so busy
If it's perforated, then I tear it to bits
All sense lost in the frenzy
They should never touch the ground
Irony is the refuge of the educated
Always complaining but they never quit
Cool's eternal, but its always dated
They should never touch the ground
It's not worth, it's the investment
That keeps us tied up in all these strings
We draw lines and stand behind them
That's why flags are such ugly things
That they should never touch the ground - "Facet Squared" - Fugazi

Coming soon, an essay on post-Repeater Fugazi.

Getrunken in der Öffentlichkeit*

Random notes from a long weekend:

• Today is the day. I have no idea what that means, but I needed to start with something dramatic.
• Saltimbocca Alla Romana (veal) is damned tasty when done right. Check out the new Italian restaurant in Ferndale on 9 Mile where The Temple used to be. It's called Via Nove. Ignore the bad joke of a name (Via Nove is Italian for '9 Mile'). I also recommend the house chianti and our bartender Chelsey. Amy got the Cavettini with braised rapine, and that was good, too. All pasta is made fresh every day. Prices are around $20 average for entrees.
• If you haven't been to Tavern On the Park (Detroit) on a Thursday or Friday night yet, then you need to. They have a Batcave in the basement, their bathrooms are in the top five worst in Detroit, various types of bands play cheap shows, and they have really good DJs on Thursday and Friday nights.
• Salvador Deli in Hamtramck has one of the best brunches in the Detroit area, plus they have it on Saturday and Sunday. They also have one of the worst waitresses in Detroit, and she admits it. Yet we still go there.
• St. Patrick's Day Parade on Sunday: The Gaelic League, an Irish-American organization sold out to the almighty advertising dollar. When I asked for a Harp, I was told "sorry, we only have Miller products today." Keep in mind that in Detroit, the company that distributes Bass, Harp, and Guinness is the company that distributes Budweiser products. How can they do that? That doesn't make any sense, does it? Am I crazy for thinking that an Irish club should be selling Irish beer? It's not like this is some sports bar that has an Irish theme as a gimmick...it's the fucking Gaelic League! Whatever, Miller Lite gets me drunk, too.
• Arnanda's Taqueria deep in southwest Detroit has really good tacos for little money. Seriously.
• Drunk people shouldn't drive. Period.
• * - punk in drublic.

This Modern Love

I acquired a few new records lately. I feel the need to tell all of you fine people what these records are all about. Some are new, some are new to me, and some I've had before, but recently came back to. Okay, that may add up to too many items. I don't know. I don't care.

Right now, I'm listening to "Silent Alarm" from Bloc Party. At first, I just thought they were yet another Gang of Four wannabe band, but they quickly saved themselves from that fate before the first song was done. Comparisons to Gang of Four, A Certain Ratio, and The Cure come easily, but they manage to still sound unique. They aren't as danceable as Gang of Four, not as jazzy (yeah, I said it) as A Certain Ratio, and certainly not as down as The Cure. So what does that leave us with? It's interesting, that's for sure. It's just good. Well-written songs, tight production, choruses that I'm humming long after the CD has stopped, and aptitude. They can play, there's no sloppiness. I appreciate that sometimes. No, I'm not being sarcastic, I do love it raw, but sometimes a good recording is even better.

I also picked up "Dangerous Dreams" from Moving Units. I was reading somewhere that at a recent show, an audience member shouted out "Gang of Three!" That sums up this band. Nothing original or all that interesting here. But...but, I saw them live. I happened upon a show at the Magic Stick one Thursday night a couple weeks ago, and there they were. They were opening for Secret Machines. The Units were interesting live, I wouldn't say spectacular, but definitely worth checking out if they're opening for someone else you want to see.

I also got the new Beck album, "Guero" recently, you can scroll down a couple of posts for my lengthy review of that.

Last week I was on a Suede kick, and now it's Pulp. "Hits" and "This Is Hardcore" are in rotation. Neither one is new for me, I had them long ago, but now I have them again. I like how Suede is like Ziggy Stardust and Pulp is like Roxy Music. No, I'm not going to elaborate, just figure that one out for yourself.

I also recently got "The Best Little Secrets Are Kept" from Louis XIV. I can't figure out where these guys are from, but I'm assuming it's somewhere here in Les Etats-Unis. I want to like them. Really, I do. But it's hard. The songs are good, they're fun, but I hear them, and I hear the Hives. The vocals, the guitar, the pace, the sound, the lyrics (almost), it's all the Hives. But it's fun. I'm sure they'd be good live.

That's all for today, kids.

God Killed the Queen

I don't know where this came from, but I like it. I've seen it attributed to former Monty Python member John Cleese and to someone going by the name "asciiwhite." I haven't been able to find a credible source for who the author is, but I like it and I'm posting it. Suck it.

To the citizens of the United States of America,

In the light of your failure to elect a suitable President of the USA and thus to govern yourselves, we hereby give notice of the revocation of your independence, effective today. Her Sovereign Majesty Queen Elizabeth II will resume monarchical duties over all states, commonwealths and other territories. Except Utah, which she does not fancy. Your new prime minister (The Right Honourable Tony Blair, MP for the 97.85% of you who have until now been unaware that there is a world outside your borders) will appoint a minister for America without the need for further elections. Congress and the Senate will be disbanded.

A questionnaire will be circulated next year to determine whether any of you noticed. To aid in the transition to a British Crown Dependency, the following rules are introduced with immediate effect:

1. You should look up revocation in the Oxford English Dictionary. Then look up aluminium. Check the pronunciation guide. You will be amazed at just how wrongly you have been pronouncing it. The letter U will be reinstated in words such as favour and neighbour; skipping the letter U is nothing more than laziness on your part. Likewise, you will learn to spell doughnut without skipping half the letters. You will end your love affair with the letter Z (pronounced zed not zee) and the suffix ize will be replaced by the suffix ise. You will learn that the suffix burgh is pronounced burra (e.g. Edinburgh). You are welcome to respell Pittsburgh as Pittsberg if you can't cope with correct pronunciation. Generally, you should raise your vocabulary to acceptable levels. Look up vocabulary. Using the same twenty seven words interspersed with filler noises such as like and you know is an unacceptable and inefficient form of communication. Look up interspersed. There will be no more bleeps in the Jerry Springer show. If you're not old enough to cope with bad language, then you shouldn't have chat shows. When you learn to develop your vocabulary then you won't have to use bad language as often.

2. There is no such thing as US English. We will let Microsoft know on your behalf. The Microsoft spell-checker will be adjusted to take account of the reinstated letter u and the elimination of -ize.

3. You should learn to distinguish between the English and Australian accents. It really isn't that hard. English accents are not limited to Cockney, upper-class twit, or Mancunian (Daphne in Frasier). You will also have to learn how to understand regional accents - Scottish dramas such as Taggart will no longer be broadcast with subtitles. While we're talking about regions, you must learn that there is no such place as Devonshire in England. The name of the county is Devon. If you persist in calling it Devonshire, all American States will become shires (e.g. Texasshire, Floridashire, Louisianashire).

4. Hollywood will be required to occasionally cast English actors as the good guys. Hollywood will be required to cast English actors to play English characters. British sit-coms such as Men Behaving Badly or Red Dwarf will not be re-cast and watered down for a wishy-washy American audience who can't cope with the humour of occasional political incorrectness.

5. You should relearn your original national anthem, God Save The Queen, but only after fully carrying out task 1. We would not want you to get confused and give up half way through.

6. You should stop playing American football. There is only one kind of football. What you refer to as American football is not a very good game. The 2.15% of you who are aware that there is a world outside your borders may have noticed that no one else plays American football. You will no longer be allowed to play it, and should instead play proper football. Initially, it would be best if you played with the girls. It is a difficult game. Those of you brave enough will, in time, be allowed to play rugby (which is similar to American football but does not involve stopping for a rest every twenty seconds or wearing full Kevlar body armour like nancies). We are hoping to get together at least a US rugby sevens side by 2005. You should stop playing baseball. It is not reasonable to host an event called the World Series for a game which is not played outside of America. Since only 2.15% of you are aware that there is a world beyond your borders, your error is understandable. Instead of baseball, you will be allowed to play a girls game called Rounders which is baseball without fancy team strip, oversized gloves, collector cards or hotdogs.

7. You should declare war on Quebec and France, using nuclear weapons if they give you any merde. (Merde is French for Shit.) The 97.85% of you who were not aware that there is a world outside your borders should count yourselves lucky. The Russians have never been the bad guys. You will no longer be allowed to own or carry guns. You will no longer be allowed to own or carry anything more dangerous in public than a vegetable peeler. Because we don't believe you are sensible enough to handle potentially dangerous items, you will require a permit if you wish to carry a vegetable peeler in public.

8. July 4th is no longer a public holiday. November 2 nd will be a new national holiday, but only in England. It will be called Indecisive Day.

9. All American cars are hereby banned. They are crap and it is for your own good. When we show you German cars, you will understand what we mean. All road intersections will be replaced with roundabouts. You will start driving on the left with immediate effect. At the same time, you will go metric with immediate effect and without the benefit of conversion tables. Roundabouts and metrication will help you understand the British sense of humour.

10. You will learn to make real chips. Those things you call French fries are not real chips. Fries aren't even French, they are Belgian though 97.85% of you (including the guy who discovered fries while in Europe) are not aware of a country called Belgium. Those things you insist on calling potato chips are properly called crisps. Real chips are thick cut and fried in animal fat. The traditional accompaniment to chips is beer, which should be served warm and flat. Waitresses will be trained to be more aggressive with customers.

11. As a sign of penance, 5 grams of sea salt per cup will be added to all tea made within the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, this quantity to be doubled for tea made within the city of Boston itself.

12. The cold tasteless stuff you insist on calling beer is not actually beer at all, it is lager. From November 1st, only proper British Bitter will be referred to as beer, and European brews of known and accepted provenance will be referred to as Lager. The substances formerly known as American Beer will henceforth be referred to as Near-Frozen Gnat's Urine, with the exception of the product of the American Budweiser Company, whose product will be referred to as Weak Near-Frozen Gnat's Urine. This will allow true Budweiser (as manufactured for the last 1000 years in Pilsen, Czech Republic) to be sold without risk of confusion.

13. From December 1st, the UK will harmonise petrol (or Gasoline, as you will be permitted to keep calling it until April 1st, 2005) prices with the former USA. The UK will harmonise its prices to those of the former USA and the former USA will, in return, adopt UK petrol prices (roughly $6/US gallon - get used to it).

14. You will learn to resolve personal issues without using guns, lawyers, or therapists. The fact that you need so many lawyers and therapists shows that you're not adult enough to be independent. Guns should be handled only by adults. If you're not adult enough to sort things out without suing someone or speaking to a therapist, then you're not grown up enough to handle a gun.

15. Please tell us who killed JFK. It's been driving us crazy.

Tax collectors from Her Majesty's Government will be with you shortly to ensure the acquisition of all revenues due (backdated to 1776).
Thank you for your cooperation.

Fax Machine Anthems

Remember when Beck's album Mellow Gold came out and it was a big freakin' deal? I'm not just talking about the singles or "Loser," but the whole record. I'm sure someone else had already tried, but no one else had so seamlessly blended folk and hip hop and rock elements in one album. At first it felt like a novelty to me, but the songs were actually really good. I haven't heard his first two records, A Western Harvest Field By Moonlight and Stereopathetic Soul Manure, so I don't know where he was at that point, but if I were to guess based on titles alone, I'd say the former was probably a folk record and the latter was more of the audio collage we're now so familiar with. Then came One Foot In the Grave on K Records. The 'cool' kids heard that one, but it existed in a galaxy far away from mainstream radio, so it didn't sell as well. It's a good album. All folk. Very simple. In 1996, Beck's first collaboration with the Dust Brothers (producers of Paul's Boutique) came out. Odelay was like a revolution. There were plenty of groups out there who were already blending hip hop and rock and electro, and some were doing it well, but they were all kind of gimmicky. Like Cibo Matto for an example. Odelay was a party album, every song could've been a hit single, and I'm not sure, but I think most of the songs appear elsewhere as remixes. So basically I'm just trying to say that this shit was good. Seriously good. A couple years later, in 1998, Mutations came out. Not quite a proper album, it was a collection of songs that had been recorded over a period of four years, and he decided to re-record some of them with his current touring band and release them. They were good songs, but the album as a whole wasn't all that strong. Midnight Vultures came out in 1999, and it had some big name guest stars like Beth Orton and Johnny Marr. It was a very cohesive record, but it just didn't move me. At that point I stopped paying attention. A few years later, he put out Sea Change (2002), but by then I had lost interest. Then, a few months ago, I was watching the film Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. At the very end is a song from Beck, and I wasn't sure where it was from. I assumed it was on Sea Change because that was the record that I was least familiar with, and the song was too well recorded to have been from any of the earlier albums. Remember that Mellow Gold was recorded for only $200. So I got ahold of Sea Change and went through the whole album but couldn't find the song. Turns out it was only on the film's soundtrack, but this sparked an interest in Sea Change. It's an album about loss, and in this case lost love, I think, but later it helped me with the loss of a friend. All the songs are country folk/rock type things. Almost painfully depressing. It reminded me a lot of Nick Drake. Actually, I wrote a post about this album a couple months ago. Check the archives. So, anyway, I recently found out that Beck has a new album coming out. I got ahold of it last week (actual release date: 03/29/05), and I listened to a little bit of it, but I was pissed. He went back to the audio collage/pastiche sound. I didn't want that. I wanted more music like he made on Sea Change. But, I guess people do move on. I think this new album Guero is the best he's made in years, possibly since Odelay (not including Sea Change because that was a totally different sound). This makes me want to listen to him again. I think we take it for granted now, but he really made the hip hop/electronic/rock/lo-fi thing big in modern music. On Mutations and Midnight Vultures I was over it. I didn't care all that much. This is different. Much different. He's not necessarily innovative, but he's staying just ahead of the times. Right from the start "E-Pro" has a driving guitar line with hip hop beats. Suddenly memories of driving around getting high listening to Odelay fill my head. "Que Onda Guero" is only half in Spanish, and I have no idea what the fuck he's saying. 'Que' is that, 'onda' is wave, but I can't figure out what 'guero' means. Anyone know? This one has the hip hop thing going on, too, but with a Latin feel to it. In fact, I think Beck could be considered a modern Tropicalia artist. Tropicalia (or Tropicalisme) was a movement of politically-minded Brazilian musicians in the sixties who blended American psychedelic music with their native sounds of bossa nova and samba. Many of those artists are still making records, like Caetano Veloso and Gilberto Gil. Back to the record. Track three is called "Girl." It starts out with a really cool electro intro that could've come right out of an early Nintendo game. It's pure pop, though, and the electro thing isn't all through the song. Great chorus, too. Musically, track five almost makes me think of Motown. "Black Tambourine" has a motown feel, but then this little guitar riff kicks in that makes me think of U2's live album Rattle and Hum for some reason. The next song, "Earthquake Weather" is a little downbeat. The actual beats make me think of "High Plains Drifter" from the Beastie Boys (without Kerry King's guitar), except wetter if that makes any sense. This one has a really good falsetto chorus in it. Then this acid guitar line comes in on it. Am I being too detailed? Who cares. Whatever. It's a really good record, and it's renewing my faith in Beck as a relevant, innovative, and talented artist. "Hell Yes" is the album's first single, and I highly, highly suggest you pick up the Hell Yes EP just for the remix. It has a robotic vocal in the chorus, and that's always a winner in my book. His flow in this one reminds me a lot of Grandmaster Flash. Stop gasping in horror, you elitist. I'm serious. There's also an Asian-sounding girl sampled saying "I like your bass" and "your beats are nice." It's fun. You also can't help but love a chorus that includes the line "...fax machine anthems, get yer damn hands in the air!" The next one, "Broken Drum" is almost industrial sounding in how heavy the drums sound. The vocal has an effect on it, too. Kinda reminiscent of Mellow Gold in that sense. Some good samples on the chorus with this one. "Scarecrow" is sort of a return to the more modern Beck of Midnight Vultures. A little loungey sounding. Twangy guitar. "Go It Alone" is almost a G. Love type of thing with a better beat. Okay, maybe that's what everything Beck does is about: G. Love but with a better beat. I think. No, I know. It is. "Farewell Ride" starts out a bit too much like "Devil's Haircut" from Odelay, but it's soon redeemed in the first verse. He reaches out vocally more on this one. Damn, this is a good record. "Rental Car" is pure pop. Actually reminds me a lot of the Rentals' second album. The last song, "Emergency Exit" is pretty slow. Very lo-fi like Mellow Gold. I guess you could say this album is like a good mix between Mellow Gold and Odelay with some modern electronic elements. I like it.

10:15 Saturday Night

Mmmm...chicken livers. It's like they melt in your mouth. I've never had anything like it.

Pixellated Halftone

The Chicago tribune chose not to run this comic today. It's "The Boondocks" from Aaron McGruder. I really don't see what all the fuss is about. I love this comic. There's always a lot of biting social commentary going on. Check out more of it here.

Plastic Passion

Sunday night I went to see a show at St. Andrew's (Detroit). I went out of curiosity and boredom, because it was free, and I hadn't heard much from either band. So, the first band was Morningwood. Never heard of 'em, and my friend didn't expect them to be anything special, so we skipped it. Next up was Kasabian. I had already heard some of their most recent record, but didn't think it was anything to get excited about. The headlining act was The Music. I haven't heard their latest, but I heard their previous record, and again, nothin' to really get me going. But it was something to do. I will say this about Kasabian...they put on a good light show. When the lights were shining on the band, and not just the crowd, you could see that the singer copped most of his moves from Primal Scream. Or the Stone Roses, or Happy Mondays, or Inspiral Carpets. Pick a Manchester band from the late '80s that emerged from the original rave scene to play party music. That also happened to be Kasabian's sound. I talked to a few people who slightly agreed, but felt that this band is more rockin' than those other ones. Maybe, I don't know, I think Primal Scream around the time of their second album were a seriously rocking band. Kasabian tried to prove how much they rock by covering one of the more mediocre songs from the MC5's last album (sorry, I can't remember the name of the song right now...I know Eli, it's killing you to not know). They did a mediocre cover of a song that was already mediocre, so does that make it complete crap? Yes, yes it does. They were entertaining, don't get me wrong, it was just too derivative in a way that I couldn't get into. A good artist borrows, a great artist steals, right Picasso? As for The Music, it was more about The Hair Farmer. The singer for The Music happens to be a hair farmer, and seems very proud of it. He also likes to hold the mic with two hands upside down high up in the air and look to the ceiling when he sings. How emotional. That's all you really need to know about them. That, and they need to keep in mind that while Oasis are a great band, they are aware that if you're gonna steal, you should be able to do it well.

The Day My Baby Gave Me A Surprise

Somewhere out there is a parallel universe. In this universe, women like short, balding, somewhat overweight men. George Costanza found it, and I know I can too.

Next Wave/Wake Up

Okay, I just watched the movie Garden State. Finally. I think that may have been a bad idea. In the same way that it would be a bad idea for me to sit down and watch Lost in Translation and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

My friends are turning 30, and soon I will too. They all own houses, or at least they're talking about wanting to own a house. Some have kids, or worry about it. Yesterday at the grocery store, I was buying beer, and the cashier noticed on my ID that I'm almost 30. He said it's a good age because you spend your 20s doing a lot of stupid shit and having fun, but by the time you're 30, you know how to have a good time without doing the stupid shit, and you're still young.

Wow, two paragraphs into it, and this already sounds like a self-serving livejournal entry. No apologies.

I wish I couldn't see through people. I wish I could feel like I don't know what everyone's all about. I wish I could just stop and not have an explanation for everything. I don't want it to be so simple, because it really isn't. I want to be less contrived, even though I'm doing it right now. I need spontaneity.

Right now, I'm seeing patterns where there are none. I wish my brain wouldn't do that. Okay, I always see patterns that aren't really there, but right now, I do happen to be staring at the stucco ceiling in this room, and at first, it looks like the ridges of plaster form concentric circles starting at the middle. But then I look again, and there really isn't a pattern. Somewhere in there is a metaphor for how I go through life, but I'm not sure what it is.

Okay, maybe there really is something in that stucco ceiling. I just got lost in it for about five minutes.

I wish I could make this stop. No more introspection, no more self-analysis. I need more accidents. More serendipity.

Upon Remembering February 23rd

Notes to self:

• Bogle makes a pretty good petite syrah. Drinking a half bottle of said wine before 9pm knowing that I have to go to work at 10 makes it bad
• When DJing, if customers want to buy you shots, accept the first one. After the fourth, reconsider the first three.
• When ordering salad with bleu cheese dressing and clam chowder, try to remember that you're lactose intolerant and take into consideration the pain you will endure later. Is it worth it? Probably not. The chowder wasn't that good anyway.
• Falling asleep (read: passing out) on top of your cell phone probably isn't a good idea. Especially when your phone is your alarm clock and you work a day job.
• Mixing red wine, Boddington's Irish Ale, Leroux Blackberry Brandy, El Toro Tequila, and Leroux Rock & Rye equals bad things. Mostly in the stomach region, but also in the oh-shit-I'm-two-hours-late-for-work region as well.
• Falling asleep on hand is also not very useful. You really miss pre-hensile strength when you don't have it anymore. My right hand is still numb.
• Remember to thank everyone who came out last night.
  

Save the Baby Seals!

Bored at work...the fluorescence above and the computer monitor in front of me are flashing at a rate faster than I can detect, but I know they do it. That's why I get headaches at work. This shit ain't stressful. I'm not dehydrated, it's just regularly interrupted cycles of light - flashing, flashing, flashing - on/off on/off on/off on/off. I was checking out Technorati, where you can look up any URL to see what other sites have linked to it. Call me vain, but I don't care, I wanted to see if anyone who hides behind HTML has been droppin' my link to their readers. There were two. Unfortunately, one of those is my other site,Dead By Christmas. But...the other was a site that sounded familiar. It's my friend J-Dub. His site is called The Baby Seal Club. Definitely worth checking out. Kind of in the same vein as this site with the occasional dry sarcasm.