Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

Welly well well well. Aren't we all very nice. I have never written a music review in my life. As I have no idea how to write one please bear (rawrrr!) with me. Since I'm not a music review website, (I'm actually some sort of being, human or something I think), I'm not reviewing music to find out if it's good or not. I already know it is good, and I like it. I'm reviewing it to suggest that you give it a listen, else why would I even post this. "Unfortunately I'm not righteous enough to actually buy the album" said Kevin as he mimed putting on an eye patch and throwing an invisible cracker to his invisible parrot Norman. Although I would gladly pay to see them live. Anyway, let me tell you all about it. Know now that I push play. And away, we go. Away.

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah self-titled debut begins with an awkward twist of circus music reminding me of Professor Marvel gazing into the crystal ball in shades of grey from The Wizard of Oz. It's a catchy start to an album that seems very disconnected from this first track. Alec Ounsworth, lead vocal/guitarist, sings a little like David Byrne from the Talking Heads, letting the words he sings fly away in unexpected directions. I'd say the guitar work and music is up to par with most modern day indie stuff, subtle drum work and interlaced synthesized sounds played from who only knows. What makes them stand out is this combination of your slightly above average indie/prog rock stuff, with this Talking Heads thingy, and songs that resonate, even when they don't make sense, or when you can't understand the words like when Thom Yorke sings in Radiohead.

Lyrics that make sense words you can understand, who needs em? Not me. Leave that to Bono and his uncompromising vision of honesty, truth, and all around suckedness (that must be why he wears sunglasses every second of every day, fuckface). Really though, this is a very accessible album, and could probably be main streamish Modest Mousy something or other if they ever make it small time. I wouldn't hold out too much on seeing them on MTV any day soon (not that if they did make it on MTV you would actually see a music video anyway with all the "reality" TV crap they play on it). Really though, it covers a lot of bases and mixes a lot of genres and Clap Your Hands Say Yeah is like a fancy French 5 course dinner I've never tried, with hints of Punk, Indie, Talking Heads, The Wizard of Oz, that Electric Light Parade I saw at Disneyland when I was 10, and is that cilantro I taste in this cranberry sauce? 01. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah (the weird circus thingy), 02. Over and Over Again, 05. Details of War (probably the best song on here), and 11. Gimmie Some Salt are all notable tracks if your thinking about sampling them. If you are actually going to be like noble or something and pay for the album, you might not find it at Walmart, and would be better off going to some sort of high brow music snobbery place, or ordering it online from somewhere. I'd have to say though, "Nice ass clown, I give you a 9/10, just don't touch me."

A Decent Proposal.

NAIROBI, Kenya (AP) - A Kenyan says he offered Bill Clinton 40 goats and 20 cows for his daughter's hand in marriage five years ago and is still waiting for an answer.

The Associated Press never gets the details right. What was really said was "Yes Bill, hello. I remodeled my kitchen 23 days ago. The soft lime green color I chose specifically to compliment your eyes. However heed my words, as I need a servant girl badly to clean the barn. Also, I have 40 goats, and need to get rid of them, they eat my aluminum can collection and give me sad nightmares about shoe laces that cry. As we are both parched from this extreme Kenyan heat, would you like a glass of fresh milk from one of my 20 cows?" Then I stared blankly at a rock that remarkably resembled Richard Geere. "20 cows, that must be very fine. How about we lather our bodies in the blood of your 40 goats, since you just want to be rid of them anyway. I haven't bathed in goat blood for many many moons now," replied Bill. "A wise suggestion," I said "I have a idea now, for you to hear. You listen to this, let us swim in the goats blood at tonight's dusk, in return, your daughter child will be mine to use at will." Bill quickly caught notice of the Geere stone. "Yes, I would like that stone as well. I will give you my daughter child, she smells of nail clippings, and is always playing games with the cat. This makes me want to become stucco sometimes, and just be spread myself out on a wall. For that she must pay, and servitude is a just punishment," said Bill slowly as he rubbed the Geere Stone on his left ear. "Very well, that intriguing rock can be yours, and your daughter child will be mine," I said, and the deal was set.

All seemed to follow plan, and Chelsea was intended to be sent to me via FedEx within 5 days time. When the large human shaped box arrived however, inside lie only the stone, and a note from Bill. The note said, "Dear. I haven't been able to send Chelsea, as the one who birthed her has took her to the forest for what she ambiguously deemed as training. I have all intentions of locating my daughter child, and all faith that once she is sent to you, the very intriguing stone will be sent back to me. The debt of the goat blood will surely be returned three fold if the daughter child dies or takes her own life before she is found. Many minerals and thoughts of laughter. Yours most likely, me, Bill Clinton, President of the United States of America, and previous owner of a 74 Cadillac which I parked in the Mississippi." Although I was first pleased to hold the very nice stone in my palms again, licking it's rough surface and whispering sweet nothings to myself, and felt that even though it was Bill's idea, the goat blood was well spent, I felt a certain emptiness from not receiving the servant girl I so drastically needed anyway. I wait now, for a reply from Bill, hoping feverishly that the unwanted goat debt isn't repaid, and instead that Chelsea will be FedExed to me promptly with her peculiar smells and all.

Yar Har Mateys!

BILL GATE'S LUNAR BASE, The Moon (AP) - Microsoft said it will give a free copy of its Windows XP to customers who unknowingly bought a counterfeit version of the operating system and who fill out a piracy report, provide proof of purchase and send Microsoft the counterfeit CDs. Customers who cannot provide proof of purchase but file a piracy report will receive a substantial discount on a legitimate version of the operating system, said Tim Prime, a product manager in the Windows client group at Microsoft Canada Co., a subsidiary of the U.S. company.

SECRET ISLAND HIDE OUT, The Caribbean - So there I was, busy hobbling on my peg leg, chasing wenches and whores around Three Tooth Bill's Inn, with a handle of the Caribbean's cheapest Rum in my hand when One Eye Charlie's parrot announced Microsoft Corp. is "cracking" down on piracy. In a state of panic I immediately dropped the bottle of Rum and a handful of Eight Legs Loretta's thigh and ran to my PC to begin burning the hard drive with a candle and emptying the contents of my black powder keg on it. "Squawk! Wait!" shouted Gingerbeak. "Aaarrghh, for what bloody reason have you stopped me blasted bird?" I asked. "Squawk! It seems you won't be needing to destroy your Hard Drive after all," said Gingerbeak, "Microsoft isn't sending in the Yellow Bearded Lawyer's Ship after us or make us walk the plank, they are just going to send you a free legal copy if you mail them your pirated one, squawk! And if you don't have a proof of purchase, they'll make you buy a legal copy for half-price, squawk!" This didn't make sense. "Shiver me timbers," I grunted back at the bird, "you mean to tell me that I will get rewarded with a free legal copy, or will get a discount just for being a pirate? Scurvy dogs! Where's the fun in that?"

It's true, Microsoft is "cracking" down on piracy, and seems to instead of suing us, or throwing us behind bars and executing us like we so justly deserve, they will be letting us trade in the pirated copy if we bought it, and let us by a discounted version of Windows XP if we didn't buy it and don't have any documentation. What I really like about this tactic is it gives stupid people who don't pirate software even less reason to be "righteous" or "moral" or whatever it is they think they are. Victory is at hand. Thank you Mr. Gates. On the other hand of things though, this means when you go to do your Windows update Billy Boy and his gang of droogs will be sniffing around your PC looking for ways to determine if you are using a pirated copy of Windows or not.

Patriot Act Permanent!

THE 9TH CIRCLE OF HELL, Hell (AP)- "Zieg Fien Baz Eigen," reported a uncharacteristically happy Hitler, as he performed a very impressive river dance on Hell's icy lake. Antaeus, one of Hell's resident giants, made the ground shake as he jumped up and down in the air laughing hoarsely. "Actually I've never seen this place get so routy, and between you and me, that's saying something, cuz we have some wild parties" mentioned Judas today in the icy 9th level of Hell as he was being masticated by one of Satan's three giant mouths. "It's colder than hell in here," laughed Satan between taking a large chunk out of Cassius's leg, and sucking Brutus's head like a lollypop. "No, seriously though, I have to admit people aren't usually in the highest of spirits. We are in hell you know, but after this Patriot Act thing today morale went through the roof. Even look at little Adolf over there," he smiled playfully, "...is he river dancing? Yes I do believe he is!"

Light-bulb! Let's protect our citizens by taking away their freedoms! Then how about we name it something ambiguous like...the "If You Don't Like This You Are Gay Act". That way if they don't like it, they will be labeled as gay, and nobody wants to be labeled that, I mean, that's almost worse than being labeled racist these days. No no...too long. Ok, how about "The Patriot Act"? Perfect! That way if people don't like it, they aren't patriotic.

Today is a sad sad day, a day that we'll look back on as the day that "liberty and justice for all," and silly things like the Bill of Rights will seem like some sort of sad joke. The bill passed today makes permanent 14 of 16 provisions in the Patriot Act set to expire next year and extends the two others for another 10 years. So beware you Harry Potter devil worshiping heathens, we are on to you, and one day the lord (a.k.a. the american government) will burn you at the stake like you all deserve. I'm so upset about this I can't really put it down in words.

You're hacking!

BAGHDAD, Iraq (AP)- A suicide bomber wearing a vest packed with explosives detonated himself Wednesday outside an Iraqi army recruitment center in Baghdad, killing at least eight people and wounding 28 others, police said. -CNN

That's pretty good I guess. I don't know how many of you've played first person shooters like Halo or Counter Strike, but if you can kill 8 guys and wound 28 others before being taken out and or re-spawning, you're definitely better than average, almost too good. What I've determined, after receiving many head shots through brick walls, and being knifed by people that are obviously moving way too fast, is that this latest suicide bomber in Baghdad is most definitely hacking. Stop hacking. So listen up, if you're reading this, I'm on to you, you're a fucking hacker. It's people like you that make the game not fun for everyone else who plays by the rules...and if I was one of those 36 people, I'd switch to a different server right then and there.

TBILISI, Georgia- Georgian police on Wednesday detained a man suspected of throwing a live grenade during a rally at which President Bush spoke in May, the Interior Ministry said. The capture came after a shootout in which one officer was killed and another wounded. - Yahoo News

Unfortunately, this guy wasn't hacking. Any idiot knows it's better to throw a flash grenade then break out you're M4 or AK and head shot them while they're blinded, than to randomly chuck a grenade and hope it hits the mark. What a newb.

Which do you think does more harm to society?

SAN FRANCISCO, California (AP) -- Shooting. Killing. Vehicular mayhem. Sexual conquests. Teenagers can experience it all through today's almost-anything-goes breed of video games, primarily among those rated "M" for mature. The Entertainment Software Rating Board (ESRB) is responsible for that rating system, and this self-regulating video game industry group has suddenly found itself on the hot seat. - CNN

So what's the problem again? Any game with mayhem, sex, and violence sounds great to me. I played violent video games as a kid, and look at me, I turned out fine! I'm just like everyone else. Who doesn't shoot innocent civilians while having sex with five women at the same time as driving a car while under the influence of highly illegal narcotics? Duh, nobody! The games we really have to shield children from are ones like Barbies Horse Adventures, the irreparable damage games like that have done on society as a whole is staggering. People blame games like Mortal Kombat for school shootings...someone didn't get the news letter, it's games like Barbies Horse Adventures that sets people off on killing rampages.

In fact that reminds me, the NRA won't be having their meeting in Columbus, Ohio this year because Columbus decided to outlaw pistol grip handles on assault rifles with detachable clips. What a bunch of idiots. "Well, we here in Columbus, Ohio have decided that it is too dangerous to have assault rifles with pistol grips and detachable clips legally available to anyone over 21 years of age. Don't worry, you can still have an arsenal of high powered sniper rifles and dual .40 caliber Berettas. We want you to still be able to have drive by shootings and stuff, we're not taking that away. We just want to make sure it's only the drug lords and the Mafia that will have assault rifles," said some incompetent politician yesterday. I'm not going to join the NRA, or shoot anybody, but I enjoy shooting high-power assault rifles at things that deserve it, like cans and clay pigeons.

How I loathe aluminum cans. One day, when I was a kid, eight aluminum cans ganged up on me, saying they were looking for lunch money. I didn't have any...and it's hard to say this, but they assaulted me, sexually. I'm 22 and comfortable with talking about it now, but I'll never forget, and I swear on my life, one day I will find the cans that...hurt me...and I will shoot so many holes in them that there won't be anything left.

We're dead.

Separate lightning strikes in Pennsylvania over the weekend injured about a dozen people attending a family reunion and 21 soldiers at a National Guard training center. - CNN

Well, we're fucked. It seems that "religiously" reading the Koran and praying to Ala has finally paid off for Osama Bin Laden and Al Qaeda. This past Saturday Al Qaeda started their newest form of terrorism. It's called "Durma Ahmed Jihad" which translates roughly to "Terrorism 2: The Vengeance of Lightning". The NSA immediately raised the Terror Alert to Rainbow color, because the highest color on the alert scale, red, doesn't evoke sufficient fear into the American populace that an international terrorist conspiracy of this magnitude requires.

The Bush Administration responded with...shall I dare say, lightning like speed, and initiated a secret project called "The Two Als". Reverends Al Sharptan and Al Green are now summoning the wrath of our righteous Christian god to combat the evil Ala. Rev. Sharptan said Sunday "The Four Horseman of the Apocalypse have already been deployed. Don't worry, we're doing a lot more than that though," he laughed. "We are working fanatically on getting God to lend us the power of shooting fireballs from the sky...I mean, it won't make much of a difference anyway though, as the Navy is almost done converting Noah's Ark into the fiercest war ship ever made, and I'm not sure if I'm allowed...I'll just say this, Chariots of Fire." said Rev. Green. Both reverends report they've pretty much been praying nonstop since Saturday. "Worse comes to worse, we still got Gabriel, and a few other angels up our sleeves," concluded Rev. Sharptan with a smile that would make any altar boy blush.

What do we lose, what do we gain.

True, you live in a city, but it's the kind that when you say city you have to put fake finger quotation marks around your head. Still, you find yourself taking a walk by the field, in those minutes before the sunset, before the sun even hints at the fiery color of dusk. Everything looks like it should be that painting with green grass and golden sunlight, the one with the old red ford parked halfway in a decaying barn, like the neighbors barn. Like paintings you see at the doctor's office. Then you think, it "ain't" so bad. While hiking around down at the lake, alone, your thinking about how you can make a difference while feeling so powerless and despondent. If you lived in the "big city" it could all be different, you could be a somebody. It all seems so pointless here, but still meaningful. The contradiction doesn't bother you, in fact you actually love the hypocrisy of it.

True, you live in a city, but it's the huge kind that makes you feel small and insignificant. You go to an underground concert, the band is fresh, it tastes like a grilled fish caught just minutes ago. You feel proud, like you discovered the band yourself, years before they were popular, and later you'll yawn as you say "yeah...I was listening to them years ago." Afterwards you are surrounded by interesting people at some chic coffee shop downtown, having a conversation about Nietzsche or how globalization is effecting some country that most people have never heard of. You walk home, alone. A street light goes out and you think maybe you have the power to make street lights go out, you can control street lights. A homeless man asks you for your change, he's filthy and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, you slap it off you and don't give him anything. You get home and wash your hands and shoulder, where he touched you. You eat your leftover Chinese and fall asleep and dream you're a piece of grass, just swaying in the wind during those golden moments right before the sunset.

223 People Killed in the Middle East!

Shocking news!! 223 some odd people were killed today in a country in the Middle East! Many of which I can't even pronounce. Hold on...there something coming over the wire, breaking news! This just in, 178 people killed in a different, yet adjacent country just minutes ago. Wait a sec...who cares? After so many terrorist bombings, suicide attacks, blah blah blah, I feel so desensitized to what's going on over there that it should make me feel sick, but doesn't. How do I make myself care? Maybe it'd be better if I pretended like I did care, but really I just wish I did, but can't. I don't think I'm alone on this, but is there a solution to this very important problem?

Half-Blood Prince?

Who is the Half-Blood Prince? Many of us have no clue what is going on in the Iraq War today, few of us even know what year it is...but everyone probably knows that the 6th Harry Potter novel is hitting bookshelves tomorrow. The security on these books is rivaling that of the detainee camp at Guantanamo Bay, but some silly Cannucks sold the books anyway, and 14 lucky people received Harry Potter a week early. Scholastic however, responded quickly with a team of Michael Jackson Cloned Molestation Assassination Ninjas (MJCMAN for short), and quickly silenced (molested, killed, or paid) these golden ticket winners. However, I have heard from reliable sources (a whim) that the Half-Blood Prince is none other than the artist, formerly known as the weird squiggly symbol, formerly known as the artist, formerly known as prince. Since I don't want to write that out again, from here out we'll refer to him as "you know who"...merely for convenience sake. My sources say that in Chapter 5 "An Excess of Phlegm", there will be a concert at Hogwarts where you know who will be performing, this will setup events that will happen in Chapter 21 titled "The Unknowable Room" where you know who will "reveal" himself to Harry, and to Harry's surprise, fear, pain, and delight he will understand finally, exactly what the Half-Blood Prince is. I really like how Rowling has let the characters grow with the books, and as Harry matures, so do the issues that Harry faces. I think we're all looking forward to this book, and learning to appreciate you know who's Half-Blood Prince for ourselves.

Riddle me this!

If we're trading blood for oil, why are gas prices so high?

I remember fondly when pseudo-hippie friends of mine went to the nearest Exxon, filled up their tank with gas, drove 8 hours to Seattle to wave around their No Blood for Oil signs in an exciting big city protest. Oil being that same stuff they put in their tank back at the Exxon. I'm not opposed to voicing your opinions, or trying to make a difference, but I really think if you change the mind of one person, even if that person lives in the same town as you, you are making a much larger impact (even on a global scale) than you would be joining 5000 mindless drones all chanting the same slogan in the middle of some street in some big city somewhere. Obviously it's no where near as fun, if your trying to change the mind of your conservative next door neighbor you wont have any tye dye wearing Bob Marley fanatics to flirt with. Anyway, I'm pissed off about the war in Iraq too, it's ridiculous and pointless. We all know were not there fighting terrorism (I mean, how can you fight a word? It's like the war on drugs), so we must be fighting for oil, right?

I paid $2.39 for a gallon of gas today...and I know in other parts of the country people are paying a lot more. I mean, if we fought this war for oil, at least I should get cheap gas...but why is it escalating to record highs? I'd just like to give the middle finger salute to OPEC for making this world a better place.

The positive effects of vodka?

CAPE CANAVERAL, Fla. - NASA (Never Are Safe Astronauts) I've been saying it for years...NASA are a bunch of fuck ups. Here's a little equation for you, as n (NASA) approaches infinity, f (failure) will equal n to the power of infinity. I'm not a rocket scientist, and I'm not sure if this equation even makes sense, but Richard Peters (NASA's president) if you are listening, hire competent employees. Even my made up equation makes more sense than all the failures you've been making...NASA is more of a joke now than an agency. When scientists are cackling at you, and it's not because they're mad, there is obviously a problem.

As you may have heard, today, Tuesday, July 12th, the first NASA shuttle launch in 2 years was thwarted because a window cover fell off the shuttle and broke solar tiles. A window cover fell off the shuttle. Fell off...cue cackling of sane scientists here. How many times have we heard about NASA failures in the last 10 years...like that Mars probe thing (the guy forgot to convert english to metric), or the little remote control car that got stuck on the first day, failed satellites, countless space shuttle crashes, mid-air explosions. Maybe the more reasonable thing to do would be to count the successes...hmm the moon landing!! Oh, wait...that was a fake. Yes yes yes...Aeuronautics is tricky business. How many times have we heard about the Cosmonauts hurtling toward the earth at 1000 mph in a giant ball of flame? Never as far as I can remember, hell, they were even going to give The Backstreet Boys a ride a few years back. It's absolutely ridiculous.

Here I sit with an ear infection, not going to the doctor because the doctor costs too much, getting ready to go to school for my 5th year and painfully taking out loans that I'll be paying back till I hit 60, and our precious tax dollars are going towards abstinence programs instead of safe sex education, fighting the wars against aethiests, gay people, and muslims. This makes perfect sense. In my opinion we should up NASA's budget by 200 billion dollars at least next year, maybe they could hire Elton John to permanently work at NASA, inspiring them with a 24 hour live performances of Rocket Man.

Respect the cock!

I have this great image (above) to explain why I have yet to see War of the Worlds, however, one of my "colleagues" pointed out that he has, and let me post his review on Naked Brain News instead. It needs to be said that Roy Albert Steves is a special boy, with very special thoughts. Although many times he says things that I don't agree with, listening to him is not unlike watching retarded children play catch or eat cake, you just can't help but to watch...or in this case, read. Roy is also unaware that none of this site's readers are "FUCKING CRETINS!" or "cultureless automatons".

Beware and read at your own risk.

With his characteristic flair, Stephen Spielberg has done what no one else has done before! Except that older movie. And that radio play. And that book thing before that. On the up side the following were thankfully absent from the film:
1. Capital Buildings being destroyed.
2. A crack team of oil riggers.
3. A montage.
4. A shot of five or six famous world cities in a row when the aliens show up.
5. Will Smith

And the following were depicted beautifully (like in a dream, or something from Kill Bill):
1. A river of bodies.
2. Empty clothes falling like snowflakes as people are vaporized.
3. A soft red mist falling to the earth as giant alien machines juice folks.
4. Oh, and the machine putting a tap in a guy for the above shot.

Cinematography was decent. Acting wasn't half bad. Special effects that didn't disappoint. Basically, it has the same plot gaps as the radio play, and you find yourself rooting for Tom Cruise's character to ditch his kids and make a run for it. It depicted an alien invasion in exclusively first person. It's the first film I've seen that did that well, and it was done with Spielbergian style. But no matter how much Morgan Freeman is doing the narration, the modern audience is going to be let down by the ending (or, unfortunately more likely, totally and furiously confused, like rabies-infected chimpanzees in a maternity ward). And if you're planning on watching the film, but have never read or heard at /least/ the radio play (and don't know who H.G. Wells or Orson Welles are), I have something very important to tell you.

FUCKING GERMS KILL ALL OF THE ALIENS, YOU FUCKING CRETINS! I'm sorry, did I spoil the ending. I hope so, you cultureless automatons. Now get back to your World of Warcraft game before you remember that you own books.

In closing, the movie was like veal or foie gras. It was pretty good, if you ignore what literature had to suffer and die to provide it to you in such an easily digested form. And it's got Spielberg written all over it, which some people don't mind so much. He's like MSG, makes things taste good, but too much can't be good for you.

A truly regal experience.

I'd like to sum up my experience in viewing Walter Salles "Dark Water" at the new Regal Cinema complex here in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho into one word. "Fuckers".

We were sitting in the Cricket's Oyster Bar making up our rassoodocks what to do with the evening. We had already drank a few beers plus, so we decided to go viddy a real horror show. We had all watched Frank T.J. Mackey try to strangle on old hot dog out of Eddie Murphy's throat while he Nutty Professored his way into an Oprah costume, and after such shameless public debauchery, we had no choice but to not see "War of the Worlds". As Jennifer Connelly is such a good (boobies) actress...we thought we would go and screen "Dark Water" instead. Of the four of us that went I was the only real student, but we schemed us all student tickets, still a steep $7 (half the price of the DVD when it comes out, and since it wasn't a 70mm print of Lawrence of Arabia...well regardless we went anyway).

Everything was fine and good. Not as much wet T-shirt as was to be expected, but with John C. Reily and Tim Roth just being there, it was more or less enjoyable. I really liked the dripping water everywhere, and was reminded of the Chinese water torture I used to perform on my youngest brother (which might, but probably won't entirely explain his insanity). The movie was good at building suspense, and making us question is Jennifer Connelly's character insane or is she really seeing these Shining-esque (two Kubrick references in one review...I'm almost shamed) halucinations? The movie is all a setup though, for a very intense and scary climax. A climax thwarted by a power outage in our lovely, Regal in fact, theater. At that point the entire High School "that is gay" club voiced up their unworthy for my ears opinions and destroyed all the suspense the movie had been trying to create for an hour and a half. Once they got the thing back going again, they forgot to turn the audio on, which is entirely comical because we see Connelly screaming but do not (pause) hear her. Ok...confused about the plot and what just happened, the entire audience walks out of the theater livid.

The very lovely (bitch) manager walks out, tells us to calm down, and that she will give us free gift certificates to come back and waste our time at this shit hole once more. "Oh Thank You my wise and humble god" I should have replied. After trying to get my money back instead of a little red ticket, I gave up, as the line was too long to wait for my money, and tried to lift a couple of the ticket stubs that the others had traded for their free tickets, so I could have a few more free tickets. The pimply 20 something that worked behind the counter, must of seen my almost un-seeable cat like movement, and said "only two right," frowning, "yes," I replied and walked out into the all too convenient rain, with 2 hours wasted, and two free tickets to go see the Rain Man tell Sigmund Freud that he doesn't know anything about the history of psychiatry, and that he does. Fuckers.

Dust, Rust, Ghosts, Highways, and Whiskey

(from Left to right)
Iron and Wine - The Creek Drank the Cradle
Bruce Springsteen - Devils & Dust
Sam Roberts - We Were Born in a Flame
Woody Guthrie - Dust Bowl Ballads
Sun Kil Moon - Ghosts of the Great Highway
Tanya Donnelly - Whiskey Tango Ghosts
Jack Johnson - In Between Dreams
Ben Harper - Diamonds on the Inside
Kathleen Edwards - Failer

Recognize any patterns? I really like a couple of these albums.
Especially the Iron and Wine and the Sun Kil Moon. They would probably be labeled in a genre called "Indie." To be honest I'm not sure if it means Indie-pendent, or Indie-ana, or what...but it's a trend that really has been taking over the last 4 years or something (and people more progressive than me probably realize it's already dead.) Generally acoustic, a hint of country, sung by someone who has a "old-soul" but in a young good looking body (a.k.a Jack Harper...or was it Ben Johnson?) This is no coincidence, these Steinbeck inspired portraits of the west, romanticized by the RIAA into money making properties is a trend that seems to be working nicely. Is this good or bad? Who am I to say, I like a lot of the music that would fall headlong into tons of these clichés. Beauty lies in the eye of the et-cetera, et-cetera. What I do know is this is real. Maybe they can sell us music easier if we believe that it isn't a gimmick, if we see it as being truth, as being art. Maybe we relate to the pain and struggle of the "west", and the poetry of "The Grapes of Wrath", the films of Terrence Malick, old sepia toned images of yesterday's past. Not criticism, merely commentary.

Oh LeVar you stud!

This little number is something I made for a counterstrike spray tag...LeVar Burton, oh the memories.