Best Of 2007

Hello friends,

It's the end of the year so it's an obvious, psychologically satisfying time to list all of the best that 2007 had to offer in music, movies and television (in my not-so-humble opinion, anyway). Disagreements are to be expected, so feel free to post any comments or your own picks below. Just know that you're probably wrong and that I am, in fact, always right.

"How can it be bullshit to state a preference?"

Rob (John Cusack) in High Fidelity

Best Records (in no particular order)

-The Arcade Fire, Neon Bible
-Wilco, Sky Blue Sky
-Feist, The Reminder
-Radiohead, In Rainbows
-Menomena, Friend And Foe
-Elvis Perkins, Ash Wednesday
-Kanye West, Graduation
-Avett Brothers, Emotionalism
-Jay-Z, American Gangster
-Okkervil River, The Stage Names
-Sondre Lerche, Phantom Punch
-The White Stripes, Icky Thump
-Ryan Adams, Easy Tiger
-Iron & Wine, The Shepherd's Dog
-Andrew Bird, Armchair Apocrypha

Best Reissues, Soundtracks & Compilations

-Elliott Smith, New Moon
-Various Artists, I'm Not There O.S.T.
-Elvis Costello, My Aim Is True Deluxe Edition
-Eddie Vedder, Into The Wild O.S.T.
-Counting Crows, August And Everything After Deluxe Edition
-Sondre Lerche, Dan In Real Life O.S.T.

Good Albums, But Not Up To Par To Previous Achievements (try harder next time, please)

-Bright Eyes, Cassadega
-Modest Mouse, We Were Dead Before The Ship Even Sank
-Band Of Horses, Cease To Begin
-Pinback, Autumn Of The Seraphs
-Devendra Banhart, Smokey Rolls Down Thunder Canyon

Best Japanese Psychedelic Pop Album

-4 Bonjour's Parties, Magpie Will Peck A Hole In My Plaster Cast

Best Comedy Album

-Patton Oswalt, Werewolves And Lollipops

Most Overrated Albums

-The National, Boxer (Somehow it still made it to 1 on Paste's list; I tried to stop them...)
-Animal Collective, Strawberry Jam (Not *actual* music!!)
-Panda Bear, Person Pitch

Albums That Would Have Made The "Best Of" List Had I Actually Listened To Them All The Way Through More Than Once

-Spoon, Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga
-Rogue Wave, Asleep At Heaven's Gate
-The Shins, Wincing The Night Away
-José González, In Our Nature
-Beirut, The Flying Club Cup

Best Albums I Haven't Heard Yet

-PJ Harvey, White Chalk
-Wu-Tang Clan, The 8 Diagrams
-Ghostface Killah, The Big Doe Rehab

Best Songs

-"Intervention" by The Arcade Fire
-"1234" by Feist
-"Young Folks" by Peter Bjorn and John
-"You Are My Face" by Wilco
-"Two" by Ryan Adams
-"All I Need" by Radiohead
-"Roc Boys (And The Winner Is...)" by Jay-Z Featuring Kanye West
-"Myriad Harbour" by The New Pornographers
-"Smile" by Lily Allen
-"Girls In Their Summer Clothes" by Bruce Springsteen
-"Lake Michigan" by Rogue Wave
-"Good Life" by Kanye West featuring T-Pain
-"Our Life Is Not A Movie Or Maybe" by Okkervil River
-"Plaster Casts Of Everything" by Liars
-"You Know I'm No Good" by Amy Winehouse
-"The Underdog" by Spoon
-"Rag And Bone" by The White Stripes
-"The Heinrich Maneuver" by Interpol
-"Sinking Soon" by Norah Jones
-"Florida" by Modest Mouse

Guilty Pleasures (I must be getting pretty secure in my tastes 'cause I could only come up with a few that I truly feel guilty about this year)

-"Umbrella" by Rihanna (Enjoy it while eating paella, ella ella eh eh eh. Or while watching Cinderella, ella ella eh eh eh)
-"Walk It Out" by Unk (I actually had to look up who did that song; now I know)
-"Crank That" by Soulja Boy (I still don't understand a single word of it)
-"Makes Me Wonder" by Maroon 5 (This one I feel really guilty about)

Best Cover Songs

-Elliott Smith, "Thirteen" (Big Star)
-José González, "Teardrop" (Massive Attack)
-Alison Krause, "Trampled Rose" (Tom Waits)
-Devendra Benhart, "Little Boxes" (Malvina Reynolds)
-Regina Spektor, "Real Love" (John Lennon)
-Jeff Tweedy, "Simple Twist Of Fate" (Bob Dylan)
-The White Stripes, "Conquest" (Patti Page)
-Sondre Lerche, "Let My Love Open The Door" (Pete Townshend)

Best Mash-Up

-DJ Axel, "Guns N' Hovas" (Guns N' Roses' "Paradise City" v. Jay-Z's "Dirt Off Your Shoulder")

Coolest Aging Alternative Icon I Met This Year

-Wayne Coyne of the Flaming Lips at the Echo Project in October. He's slender and quite handsome. He was also wearing a bitching custom suit.

Band That I Once Loved But Should Have Stayed Broken Up For Its Own Good And The Good Of Humanity

-Smashing Pumpkins (Billy, just stop and let me still enjoy your first three albums in peace)

Best Singer-Songwriter That I Drove To A Gig In My Car Through Atlanta Rush Hour Traffic From The Paste Offices

-Josh Ritter on November 1st; we talked about Dylan and girls walking in the sunshine (he's weird)

Best Movies (I didn't see that many movies in the theater again this year so forgive me for my crappy selection)

-The Darjeeling Limited (probably my favorite)
-Knocked Up
-300
-Sicko
-Superbad
-Ocean's Thirteen
-Grindhouse: Planet Terror & Death Proof

Movies I Really Wanted To See But I Probably Won't Until I Can Netflix Them

-Zodiac
-Eastern Promises
-Lars And The Real Girl
-Into The Wild
-The King Of Kong
-Sunshine
-American Gangster
-Control
-Shoot 'Em Up
-Joe Strummer: The Future Is Unwritten
-I'm Not There

Movies I'm Going To See For Sure In The Next Two Weeks

-Juno
-Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story
-No Country For Old Men

Worst Movie To See In A Theater Full Of Teenagers Who Feel Compelled To Talk On Their Cell Phones And Scream Advice To The Actors On The Screen Without Considering The Fact That It Might Ruin The Experience For Other More Mature Moviegoers

-Rob Zombie's Halloween (never again!)

Best Television Shows

-Entourage: Season 4 (HBO)
-The Sopranos: Season 6, Part 2 (HBO)
-Big Love: Season 2 (HBO)
-Real Time With Bill Maher (HBO)
-Flight Of The Conchords (HBO)
-Weeds: Season 3 (Showtime)
-Dexter: Season 2 (Showtime)
-The Office: Seasons 3&4 (NBC)
-Survivor: China (CBS)
-It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia: Season 3 (FX)
-The Henry Rollins Show (IFC)
-Iconoclasts (Sundance)
-No Reservations with Anthony Bourdain (Travel Channel)
-Ramsey's Kitchen Nightmares (BBC, not the shitty FOX Version!)
-Gordon Ramsey's F Word (BBC)
-The Soup (E!)
-Best Week Ever (VH1)
-Pardon The Interruption (ESPN)
-Top Chef: Season 3 (Bravo)
-Attack Of The Show (G4)

Best Excuse To Get Digital Cable With DVR

-Being able to have a life that is not dictated by television schedules. That, and to instantly replay people getting hit in the nuts on American Funniest Home Videos. Oooh, and fast forwarding through commercials; watching an hour long show now only takes 41 minutes!

Best Unabashed Display of "Scarm" (Scar + Arm) On Television

-Padma Lakshmi on Bravo's Top Chef; disfiguring scars have never been so damn sexy.


So there you have it, I hope this list will inspire you to draft your own selections or perhaps encourage you to pick up an album or watch a show you otherwise wouldn't have.

See you next year!

A Stubborn Notion: "Jesus Camp" Fails To Shock

Adrienne and I watched Jesus Camp tonight. I'll spare you the set up of this documentary by letting Netflix do the work:

This riveting Oscar-nominated documentary offers an unfiltered look at a revivalist subculture where devout Christian youngsters are being primed to deliver the fundamentalist community's religious and political messages. Building an evangelical army of tomorrow, the Kids on Fire summer camp in Devil's Lake, N.D., is dedicated to deepening the preteens' spirituality and sowing the seeds of political activism as they're exhorted to "take back America for Christ."

So basically it shows the indoctrination of kids into the evangelical way of thinking (or lack thereof) at this summer camp in the Midwest through tactics right out of the Hitler Youth¹ playbook. The best description of the design and purpose of the camp is made by Becky Fischer, the founder and organizer, who equates it to an extremist Muslim training camp where children are molded into good little Jihadists --except she does it without a hint of sarcasm.

She sees her ministry as a sort of counterweight to other extremist religious groups and the godless liberals who she thinks are ruining America. Essentially, these kids are routinely and systematically transformed into little rhetoric-spewing mouthpieces of the Christian Right and encouraged to spread the message by any means necessary.

The documentary is anything but biased or preachy, choosing instead to let the subjects do the talking, most of which is done by the kids themselves. The only discernible "voice of reason" present in the film is of Air America's own Mike Papantonio (a Methodist who often criticizes the Christian Right) who at one point interviews Becky and calls in question her "teaching" methods and the glaring hypocrisies of her sect of Christianity.

Regardless of the apparent lack of persuasiveness and cajolery by the filmmakers, the inherent tone of the film is meant to incite outrage and/or utter terror at these events, which astonishingly take place in modern-day America.

I, however, was not affected in such a way.

I don't know if there's anything comparable to the "five stages of grief"² that applies to dealing with the Christian Right as a modern thinking person who values reason, but I feel like I've gone through several different stages myself.

I certainly used to get angry at this type of thing; it made me visibly resentful to see any type of commitment to the proliferation of ignorance and disinformation. I associated this rage with being passionate and I reveled in it without ever actually using it as a sort of catalyst for action.

And that, of course, is typical teen angst fare.

It's pure, carnal and self-serving. It's downright fun. It's rock n' roll. It's a Black Flag song. It's what teenagers are put on this earth to do.

But that type of unbridled rage gets old after a while (it starts looking forced and a bit naive and definitely stops helping you get laid) and I eventually moved on to trying to rationalize why certain people just don't get "it", almost to the point of making excuses for their way of thinking.

I blamed it on their upbringing, their surrounding environment, the encompassing establishment, morally bankrupt corporations, the traditional Puritanical culture of the U.S. and anything else that could be a sphere of influence on their soft, amorphic minds. In other words, it's not their fault, they are the product of what they themselves are sadly propagating.

But that logic is only applicable to a certain point. Even my extremely liberal mindset can't wrestle with the notion that people aren't somewhat responsible for their own predicaments. The intimation of the effects of upbringing and environment has a definite cut off point.

It certainly pertains to kids and young adults, much like the ones being programmed in Jesus Camp; they, after all, have a limited amount of inputs. But in this age of accelerated processes and open-ended information very few people in America live in a bubble, a suspended state of cryogenic storage. At some point of adulthood these people choose to be willfully ignorant and spiritually incurious for whatever reason --be it convenience, or perhaps the need to be antagonistic, headstrong or perversely indifferent.

So now I'm left to believe that they are just stubborn, ignorant douche bags for whom I should feel relatively nothing. That's why I wasn't outraged when in Jesus Camp a mother home schools her son to reject science as merely another belief system, global warming as something not to be worried about and that the earth is a mere 6,000 years old. I didn't wince at the sight of a man praying that George W. Bush finds the strength to appoint a Supreme Court Judge to overturn Roe V. Wade. I didn't even laugh when they all started speaking in tongues and wailing uncontrollably.

Not me, not anymore.

It must be a sign of the start of my curmudgeon stage when I become an empty shell of a man, too knowledgeable of life to learn anything new and too dead inside to care --ironically sharing the very qualities of the people I once despised.

But there is hope.

After a little girl described her favorite music as Christian Hard Rock and proceeded to dance and sing along, I still felt a silent, murderous rage for her display of bad taste in music.

Suddenly, I felt unbridled rage making a comeback.

¹The Hitler Youth, incidentally, increased by great numbers when it joined with the Evangelische Jugend (Evangelical Youth, a German youth organization with upwards of 600,000 members) in the mid 1930's. Coincidence?! I think not.

²In case you need a reminder of what these are: 1. shock followed by initial denial; 2. denial replaced by anger, rage, envy, and resentment; 3. bargaining (with God or the like); 4. depression; 5. ultimate acceptance.

The Echo Project

On Friday, I got to go to the opening day of the first annual(?) Echo Project Festival which took place just South of Atlanta this weekend. The whole thing is modeled after all the big three-day festivals that are now a mainstay of summer, but with an ecologically minded proclivity. Basically, Al Gore's¹ wet dream of a concert concept.

They picked out a great location on a 350 acre farm just minutes outside of the A-T-L; a broad, ample field surrounded by rolling hills, placid lakes and a rippling (albeit, contaminated) river. And they also picked a great time, mid-October, when it's not so god damn² hot and clothes-drenching humid. Even the infrastructure and layout of the festival seemed to have been well thought out.

The gripes I had with it were that 1) tickets were way too expensive and 2) not enough good bands were booked to justify the price of the ticket, so 3) not as many people as were expected showed up.

Of course I got to go for free so why should I give a fuck, right?

Right.

Some of the more interesting bands playing on Friday, all brought together by their love of smoking weed (or ganja, where it may apply): The Flaming Lips, The Polyphonic Spree, GZA of the Wu-Tang Clan with Slick Rick, Cypress Hill, Stephen Marley, Les Claypool and Secret Machines.

The bad (or utterly obscure) bands that played on Friday: all the other 67 bands that played on various stages to tens of people throughout the day and night.

But even they couldn't ruin a good time. I definitely can't complain, I got to hang backstage drinking free beer and I met The Flaming Lips' Wayne Coyne, a personal hero of mine. And best of all, I got to watch him and the other guys in the band (as well as a couple dozen folks dressed as Santa Claus, aliens and superheroes) send thousands of people into sensory overload and epileptic seizures with their amazing show. If you've never seen The Flaming Lips in concert, you're seriously missing out. This was my third time and even though their show is always basically the same, it's one of the most fun things I've ever been a part of every time.

Good times.

¹Note to Al Gore: if you entered the race for presidency right now, it would be a slam dunk, a home run and a 95 yard touchdown pass all wrapped into one. To put it plainly, you would win --handily. I'm just saying.

²I usually think it's more satisfying to write "goddam" instead of "god damn", but I'm giving it a try to see if it grows on me. Also, are you supposed to capitalize the word "god" or is that just if you're specifically talking about the Judeo-Christian God? Oh, goddam it all.

Things That Are Good

Things that are good:

-The song in the Fruit of the Loom commercial that looks like a video that has the "Fruit Guys" in it. You know, the one about the blue collection of underwear. Yeah, if you're anything like me (and congrats if you are) you'll be glad to know that they have the extended version up on YouTube. Oh man, it's great. But why go all the way to YouTube when you can just watch the damn thing here:



Now that's songwriting. Take notes, FreeCreditReport.com jingle writers, the bar has been set pretty damn high.

-Fionn Regan came by the Paste office this week to record a couple of songs for our podcast so we all squeezed in our little studio and watched him do his thing. It was great. He seemed like a nice enough fellow. If you haven't heard his album, "The End of History", you should probably do yourself a favor; you deserve it, after all. To keep it on the YouTube tip, here's a cool video of his:



-Speaking of Paste related things, if you happen to see the issue with Iron & Wine on the cover in the coming weeks, flip that bitch to page 12, hit the guy or gal standing next to you, point to my name on the page and say, "Hey, I know this dude, he's okay in small doses". That would make my mom awfully proud. C'mon, she needs it.

-I'm coming to Nashville next weekend, so shape up Tennessee! I want to see some excitement and high energy for my homecoming. Don't disappoint me.

I was supposed to go to my 10-year high school reunion but upon finding out that nobody that I actually want to see is going to be there, I asked myself why I was going. "Just to see how fat (fatter?) and lame (lamer?) everybody got?!"; I don't think so. That's really not enough to get me to spend $70 and waste a whole weekend around it. Oh well, there's always the 15-year reunion, everyone will be even fatter and lamer then. Me included.

Good night and good luck.

Drove To Chicago All Things Know All Things Know

I sense a palpable clamor in the air for an update on all things Luca.

Ok, maybe it's just Stacey. And she's not really clamoring--more like politely inquiring.

Here ya go, Stace:

-The internship at Paste is going well. Actually, it's going great. They're keeping me very busy and I'm learning a lot. I was afraid that I might not be able to do everything that would be asked of me but I've learned that I can handle pretty much anything. The work environment is ideal for my particular sensibilities too. I mean, we spent the last couple of hours of work on Friday drinking beer and playing "cornhole" (a variation on the classic "horseshoe"). And when we manage to actually work at publishing a magazine that a half million people read every month, it hardly feels like work at all, and that, my friends, is the key to finding what you're truly meant to be doing.

-The little lady and I went to see "Superbad" today. It was profanely funny. I don't know what it is about high school comedies, but I usually enjoy them way more than I ever enjoyed my time in actual high school. Whether it's "Ferris Bueller's Day Off", "Napoleon Dynamite", "Can't Hardly Wait", heck, even "Teen Wolf"--I love them all. Meanwhile, I cringe at most of my own high school memories. The naive awkwardness that makes these movies compelling is also what I want to eschew from my own reminiscence. Sick, isn't it?

-Adrienne will be going to Chicago for Labor Day to visit friends and possibly scout the area for future living consideration. A lot of our friends have moved or are moving there in the near future and Adrienne is campaigning for us to follow them next year when she's finished with school. I'm not exactly sold on the idea yet but I'm keeping an open mind. My philosophy has always been to embrace opportunities when they present themselves so I guess we'll see. For now I'm excited to be where I am, doing what I'm doing.

All right, that's enough for now.

Later.

Deuteranopia Is Not My Only Burden

So, yeah. . .

It's been a while since I've posted an update on the going-ons in my life so here we go:


--First and foremost, while running the risk of jinxing myself, I should tell you that I'm anxiously waiting to be interviewed for an internship at Paste Magazine. If you're not familiar with this publication you should check out an issue or their really cool website. I don't even need to stress how cool this would be for me; it would be the first job I've ever had that actually has anything to do with what I studied in college.

The internship would be either in the Marketing/Business or the Editorial department. It would pay close to nothing but the experience and contacts I would make there would be priceless. And how could they not hire me after the internship is over? I'm adorable.

They emailed me today to let me know that I should go in for an interview. I really, really, really hope I get this. You should hope for this as well.



--I've been running a lot lately and lifting weights. I guess it's my last (and perhaps first) attempt at getting fit. I am seeing quite a difference in my body after just a short time so I'm actually sticking to it. I've already lost quite a chunk of the belly fat I've been nursing over the last...oh, I don't know, ten years or so and I'm actually building up muscle. I know, shocking! This shit actually works.

I'm doing it five times a week for about an hour or so, hopefully I won't burn out. I'm setting small goals for myself to keep me motivated and I guess my first is to run a 5k comfortably and at a good pace. I feel like I'm almost there already. I just hope my knees don't give out since I've had problems with them in the past due to old basketball injuries.



--In other bodily news, I'm losing my eyesight. Not like the whole way or anything, I'm not going blind (hopefully, although I'm already colorblind). However my eyesight has gotten exponentially worse in the last few months. I have a hard time focusing on text that is more than three feet away from me and my eyes get fatigued while driving at night. I'm also seeing the words I'm typing right now in a bit of haze and I haven't even been drinking (much)!

This is all a recent development as I've always had reliable eyesight and I must admit I'm very resentful that my eyes have given up on me so early. Yes, I haven't treated them in the best manner with all the tv watching and endless hours staring at computer screens, but I figured they would carry me at least into my thirties.

Now I'm faced with the daunting task of getting my eyes checked and eventually getting glasses. Contacts aren't an option as I would rather carve my name into my thigh with a rusty knife than have to touch my eyeball. That's just not happening. Adrienne told me that I look like a sexy professor with glasses on so I'm not too worried after all. Then again, it is her job as my girlfriend to lie to me to protect my fragile ego, so she can't be trusted.



--At least I can be thankful that I don't have restless leg syndrome because that might lead me to a severe gambling debt. Have you seen this? Adrienne brought it to my attention after she heard it on a tv commercial. And after some research we found out that apparently a side effect of Mirapex, a medication that eases the symptoms of restless leg syndrome (RLS), is a rise in compulsive behavior. However, they take it a step further by singling out compulsive gambling as the main form of adverse behavior.

First of all, I'm not yet convinced that restless leg syndrome is an actual medical condition, even though Adrienne swears her mother has it. And then you throw in compulsive gambling as a side effect and I'm left to assume that restless leg syndrome is the body's own deferral system against OCD and by taking Mirapex you're merely transferring the fixating anxiety from your legs to your head. Is this a good trade off? I think not. You may lose some sleep with RLS but at least you'll still have a roof over your head at the end of the day.

If you have RLS please don't take Mirapex. Just calm the fuck down. Or just smoke some weed before bed; it's less expensive and far safer.



All right, good night my sweet babies. Sleep the shit out of tonight for tomorrow is another day.

Of All The People...

So I took MARTA (Metropolitan Atlanta Rapid Transit Authority --the f'ing train, alright?!) to work for the first time on Friday. I've been driving to and fro all week and it's been kind of a pain because traffic is really bad around that area, especially when I get out at around 5 or 6pm (it took me half an hour to go one mile on Monday, utterly frustrating). Plus, the quickest route is by taking the toll road which costs 50 cents each way and I don't know about you, but I am NOT accustomed to paying directly for my roads, that's what taxes and vehicle registrations and speeding tickets are for, right? So as a little experiment I decided to borrow Adrienne's student MARTA pass since she doesn't have class on Friday and ride the rails to work.

I must say that it was quick (12 minutes each way), convenient (the station is a block from my apartment and drops me off across the street from my work) and virtually painless (clean, air conditioned cars, no crazy homeless people on board). The only drawback is not having my car to transport me to any place of my choosing for lunch and I've also developed a habit of listening to The Big Show with Dan Patrick and Keith Olbermann¹ on ESPN Radio while eating lunch within the safety and comfort of my vessel. But, oh well.

Today there was none of that.

I instead decided to take the short walk over to the Perimeter Mall which is directly across the street from my work and have lunch at the food court. The mall is quite busy at lunch time as there are many office buildings in the area surrounding it and the food court is especially teeming with activity. All the tables fill up quickly and you'll find yourself sharing a table with some other stranger eating lunch by him or herself because of the lack of room. Plus, there was extra traffic today as the crowds anxiously lined up outside the Apple store to await the release of the iPhone at 6pm. There must've been 50 people in line. Crazy bastards.

As I was standing in my own long line for Chick Fil-A, a somewhat eerily familiar face caught my eye. I turned my head to follow this person back into my peripheral vision as he stopped a few feet to my left. The man in question was relatively short, rail thin, a slight curvature to his upper back (kinda like Mr. Burns from the Simpsons), and he was accompanied by a somewhat heavyset woman dressed in overalls. His face was so familiar to me, I knew it had been catalogued in my mind at some point but I just couldn't put my finger on who he was exactly.

And then it came to me.

I immediately reached for my phone to confirm my suspicions. Adrienne didn't answer. Dammit.
I kept staring at this man as he slowly walked away from me and toward the pizza place. "It's gotta be him", I kept thinking. "Definitely. But what's the deal with the woman with him? How could anyone want his company? Doesn't she know? And what the hell is he doing at the mall?"

I got my food and ate it quickly, all the time trying to remember some details from the case. It happened a long time ago, even though the press never let it die, and I never really paid much attention to it but you couldn't really escape it for a while; it was all they talked about. "Did it happen in Atlanta? No, it was in Colorado, I think. Was he from Atlanta?"

I walked around the mall for a while to kill the rest of my lunch break and ended up in the FYE store looking at (of course) cds. Finally, my phone rang and it was Adrienne calling me back. I immediately jumped to it.

"Remember the little girl that got killed, like, ten years ago. The beauty pageant girl. What was her name, JonBenet Ramsey?", I said.

"Yeah", she said.

"OK. Remember the creepy guy who confessed to her murder or to being at her murder or something like that last year but was later released because there was no evidence tying him to it?"

"Yeah. John Mark Karr."

"Was he from here in Atlanta?"

"Yeah, I think so. Why?", she asked.

"I just totally saw him in the food court at the fucking mall!", I exulted.

That creepy fucking look that you see in the picture above is exactly how he looked. Those dead, cold eyes and the child molester vibe were totally chilling. I have now stared evil in the eye and it was not good. That dude should be in jail for something, I don't care for what, he should not be allowed to walk among us. It's just a matter of time before he does something. And there he was, within reach. I could have done something, but I didn't.

All because Adrienne didn't answer her phone. Lives could have been saved.

Be frightened, very frightened. Evil walks among us. . . at the food court.


¹the only sport commentators who are journalists, make valid points, and most importantly, are not blathering conservative racist idiots like 95% of sport radio DJ-types. How did this become the archetype of radio DJs in general? Where did we go wrong that radio stations believe that only racist, narrow-minded, republican white males listen to commercial talk radio? I might have to explore this topic in another blog. . .

Pay Attention, This Might Be Important.

"Halloween: H20" has been on television every night for the last year or so --maybe even longer. I've only been paying attention to this phenomenon for that time span, ever since I noticed that it was on the premium channels on digital cable for what seemed like every night. And it HAS BEEN ON EVERY SINGLE NIGHT SINCE! I'm not sure what this means but it might be important, so please take note.

It's mostly on Showtime or Cinemax between 11pm and 3am but it also comes on Starz and Encore quite often. Why is this movie being shown so much? That's all I want to know. I mean, it's not very good. It wasn't a hit at the box office. It's the sixth sequel in a series that only produced one movie worth seeing (although the remake of the first one, written and directed by Rob Zombie that's coming out in August looks pretty good).

If you have any insight on this particular issue, please enlighten me.


In other news, some people have asked me what I thought of "The Sopranos" finale, so this is as good a forum as there is:

Quite frankly, as I have previously stated, I had no expectations going into it so I really feel that it was an appropriate ending. A lot of people were disappointed by the open-endedness of the finale and have gone so far as to call the move gutless by writer/creator David Chase. I disagree. I think that if you look at the entire series for what it was, it couldn't have ended any other way.

The series was never about taking the viewers by the hand and walking them down a clear path where the characters' motivations and the events befalling them were neatly layed out. And that's what made it great, it never pandered to the audience but it always kept them guessing. The show stayed true to itself and that's all that I can ever ask for from any art form.

And for the people that tuned in just at the end to catch some bloodshed, you should have been watching all along --way more people were killed throughout the span of the show than in the whole history of the New Jersey mob...

Annotations

A couple of things:

-"The Sopranos" ends Sunday night, as you might have heard. In fact, every media outlet has been speculating all week on how the series will conclude its run. Personally, I haven't really given it much thought. I've come to terms with the fact that David Chase, the series creator, has always done things his way, often with no consideration to the fans' expectations. I'll abide to the creator's vision and accept any ending that transpires. The dude must abide, afterall.

-Chad Johnson, the very amusing Cincinnati Bengals Wide Receiver, raced against a horse for charity on Saturday --and won. It wasn't an even, head to head race, the horse had to run twice the distance Chad ran (100 meters); but still, it's very impressive. People had tried it before and it wasn't even close. Chad, of course, talked trash afterwards. I'm not sure what this means in terms of human-horse relations, but I'm curious to find out. Stay tuned.

We Know A Place Where No Planes Go

So, the Arcade Fire did not disappoint tonight. All ten members were full of energy and quite entertaining to watch. This was my first time seeing them live so I was surprised to see how much instrumental musical chairs they play; with the exception of the sassy (Adrienne used this word, I would never) violin player who stuck by her fiddle all night, everyone else traded instruments after every song. And they had all sorts of cool instruments too: toy piano, french horn, mandolin, glockenspiel and hurdy gurdy. I love the hurdy gurdy. Love it. I want one so bad.

For those of you who have never seen a hurdy gurdy this is what it looks like:

It sounds like a mix between a violin and a bagpipe and it's played by turning a crank. Super cool. If you have the new Decemberists album, The Crane Wife you can hear the hurdy gurdy in action throughout the song "Sons & Daughters".

ANYWAY. . .

The Civic Center was a pretty cool venue. It's a 4,600 seat theater very much like TPAC in Nashville. The sound was great. And with the exception of some drunk fat girl constantly screaming about her titties in the row behind us (she was singing about them and threatened to pull them out; in fear of being blinded, I did not look), we had a good time.

So, if Arcade Fire happens to pass through your town, you should definitely check them out.

Cheers.

Banale Minutia

I'm incredibly bored right now. Adrienne went to bed at 9:30 tonight because she had been up and working since 6:30 this morning. The NBA Playoff game between the Houston Rockets and the Utah Jazz fails to entertain me. There's nothing on the DVR that I haven't yet watched. The Netflix dvds are currently en route. And in addition, the internet is no longer amusing.

Crap. Time for a blog.

I spent the day cleaning the apartment and doing laundry with occasional peeks at the NFL draft on television¹. I spent nearly five hours cleaning my 1,150sq ft hovel. Once I get going on the cleaning, I like to be thorough. I swept, vacuumed, washed, brushed, shined, dusted, scoured and scrubbed. I even pumiced. . . and I hardly ever pumice.

I can thank my mother for the innate sense of cleanliness I've inherited (although I also blame her for the domineering anal retentiveness, thanks mom!); it's served me well. I've kept every place I've lived in progressively and exponentially cleaner. Consequently, I have to imagine that the last few decades of my life will be spent in an aseptic, sterile environment, relegated from the outside world with crazed, delusional thoughts offering the only company and reassurance. But that's at least another five years or so away, so let's not worry about that just yet.

I do often wonder if I am slightly obsessive compulsive or if I'm just a dude who likes to keep things neat. I mean, I don't completely lose my shit if things are placed in the wrong place or anything, it just kind of bothers me to know that they should be placed somewhere else. I justify this behavior with my affinity for not losing things and always knowing where something is; in other words, I just really want to be on top of my shit, 24-7. Is such organizational excellence so out of the ordinary that it needs to be ridiculed and labeled as abnormal? It certainly shouldn't be.

Let's put it this way, if I ever need a 3/8" hexagonal screwdriver I can have it in my hot little hand in six seconds flat because I know exactly where it is and where it should be. Is this a deplorable trait?

Fuck no.

I don't know who was the first doctor to diagnose someone as having obsessive compulsive behavior but I bet you he was a messy son of a bitch who just couldn't understand devotion to precision. Pity.

All right, I guess I'm off to bed. Brunch at Canoe tomorrow. Yum.

¹The coverage of the draft has gotten monumentally overblown. It's the only thing that has been discussed on any sports media outlet for the last month and a half even though only a small portion of the players drafted will make an immediate impact in the season that is still four months away. Jeez, there's other sports which are actually being played right now, is this kind of coverage really warranted?

The draft was on for twelve straight hours on ESPN today and it will be on again tomorrow morning for the same amount of time. They had a team of at least a dozen analysts there for the duration of the event, as if such massive dissection was really needed.

Who gives a fuck about Brady Quinn's feelings about sliding down to the 22nd pick?! Should you and I really care that this prick will not make as much money as some misguided people thought he should have? Hell no. This douche will still be a millionaire by next week even though he's never taken a snap at the professional level (or won an important game in college, for that matter). Why is he getting so much coverage?!

I blame it on the rise of fantasy football leagues which lately have become the biggest exercise in organized gambling in this country. Any idiot that's part of a league now wants to have a leg up on the competition so we all have to suffer through months and months of speculation and superfluous analysis which is passed off as inside information. Just like in every sport, gambling determines design.

Don't get me wrong, I love the NFL and I've played fantasy football for a few years (never for money), but this is why other sports aren't given a chance to be popular anymore or are disappearing completely (hockey, anyone?). As a fan of most sports, I think this kind of coverage is displacing other worthy pastimes. I enjoy football, but I don't need it covered twelve months out of the year.

Good lord, this was a long footnote.

Everyone's Waiting

I just watched the series finale of Six Feet Under on Bravo. It was sad, emotionally draining and overall, totally satisfying. It's a fine line to tread, the finale that ties up all loose ends; for the most part it never works. But for this show it couldn't have ended any other way. If you've seen it, I'm sure you probably feel the same way.

I never watched Six Feet when it first ran on HBO, but everybody who did would always tell me that it was my kind of show. Now that I've seen it, I'm not really sure what these people saw that would make them say that to me; I don't see why ANYONE wouldn't like this show. . . it's a good show. I'm glad I had a chance to finally see it.

I suspect that the upcoming series finale of The Sopranos will not be quite as conclusive. Something tells me that I'll probably be disappointed with the way it ends. But then again, I may just be fooling myself into thinking this so that any sort of closure will seem satisfying. I'm a tricky bastard like that, I can convince myself of anything. I just have a feeling that the show's creator, David Chase, is a big fan of not pandering to the expectations of the audience and that makes it really unpredictable. And I guess that's part of why I like the show and have stuck with it through its ups and downs. It's easily the best show I've seen on television (besides Mama's Family, of course).

A Couple Of Things

A couple of things that have been on my mind:

-Have you seen the preview for the movie "Reign Over Me" with Adam Sandler? Is it just me or does he look a lot like Bob Dylan with his hair grown out? They both have the Jew-fro going on. I know they're already coming out with a Dylan biopic where Adrien Brody, Colin Farrell, Richard Gere, Julianne Moore and Cate Blanchett all play him at different times of his life (I know, what the fuck?), but they should consider Sandler for the next one. They might want to have someone else sing the songs though, I can't imagine that singing "Masters Of War" à la "The Chanukah Song" would sound very good.


-James Brown's body was finally placed in a crypt at one of his daughter's home in Beech Island, South Carolina today, a mere two months after his death. Where the hell has he been kept all this time, anyway?! How do you think his body is holding up by now? I hope embalming technology can keep up with the demands of feuding family members. And if you thought that it took long enough to get this man buried, just wait. He's just being placed there temporarily while a public mausoleum is being built at an undisclosed location. I hope the Godfather of Soul is laughing at all of this from somewhere because it sure looks like a great big farce to me.


-Have I mentioned how good the new Arcade Fire album, Neon Bible, is? Yes? Well, it is.


-Now, for the record, I want to commit my disdain for the whole "Secret" phenomenon to print. The people I work with already know and share my pain, but for those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, allow me to explain.

The "Secret" is the brainchild of Rhonda Byrne, an Australian television producer who worked on several reality tv shows. Basically it started out as a self help dvd (it has since been turned into a book, another dvd, and any other thing that you can think of that can be sold for money). It claims that the secret of happiness is unlocked through the laws of attraction (if you think positively then positive things befall you, if you think negatively, well. . .you know). It also claims that all of history's great minds lived by and shared this "secret". The book, which I flipped through to see what all the fuss was about, is merely a collection of inspirational quotes and shallow interpretations of them by "living masters of the Secret". Yes, so basically it's the same bunch of new-age bullshit that has been repackaged and remarketed once again. Big on promises, short on substance. It's just lowest common denominator marketing up to its old tricks.

The thing is, people are buying it up like crazy. For months people asked about the dvd at work (it was only available on the Secret's website for a while). We would get questioned about it every day. When it finally came out in stores we couldn't keep it in stock. Oprah, the almighty goddess of commerce, did two shows about it in the span of two weeks. And then we really couldn't keep it in stock. I now know that nothing works better at separating idiots from their money than Oprah.

Housewives everywhere now had a key to happiness, and it was waiting for them at their neighborhood dvd store. Every time we had a new shipment come in they would already all be reserved for customers. Every third person that called the store was wondering if we had it in stock. People were driving all over town seeking a stray copy (and driving around town in Atlanta traffic can take hours and copious amounts of patience). I've never seen such a thing firsthand. I mean, you hear about people coming to blows over Tickle-Me Elmo dolls before Christmas but it always seems like it's happening somewhere else –like in New York or someplace where far too many people live in a far too small space– surely not in your town. But it is happening all over. The book and the dvd have sold well over a million respectively.

And this thing ain't cheap. We sold them for $30 the first week they came out and they're currently sitting at $34.99. But people don't care. I mean, it's the secret to happiness, what's a few bucks compared to eternal happiness? And plus Oprah said to buy it (I wonder if she gets kickbacks because she definitely should). Why can't she ever promote good things on her show? She's got all this influence and all we get out of it is fucking Il Divo and the "Secret" and Dr Phil? Way to go Oprah, those are great contributions to society. I can't wait for her to run for president.

I know I shouldn't be surprised at people's ignorance anymore, but goddamit if it doesn't happen every time. I just want to slap some sense into every person that comes in asking about it. I mean, is it wrong for me to want these people to die? Wouldn't we all be better off for it? And that's not a rhetorical question, wouldn't we?!? Can't we somehow convince all these people to kill themselves (and perhaps take all the Mormons, Jehovah's Witnesses and rednecks with them)?

Maybe if we got Oprah involved……

Neon Bible

So I haven't written a blog in a while, mostly because I haven't had anything of note to bitch about. And I still don't, really.

Mostly I just wanted to boast about how good the new Arcade Fire album, Neon Bible is.

--It's really good. Really, really good--

And since it's being reviewed by every publication that is currently in print, I'll keep my critical analysis short and sweet:

--It's really good. Really, really good--

So, if you liked their first album, Funeral, I suggest you hop on your bike, jump on your skateboard, lace up your rollerblades or get on whatever-the-hell it is you ride around in and mozy on over to your local record store to purchase a copy for yourself. It'll be good for you.

Post Game Analysis

So since there's going to be plenty of analysis of the game itself, I'll just focus on some of the other aspects of the Super Bowl.

Let's start with the pregame festivities. The "Built Ford Tough" pregame show consisted of what is best described as the shittiest Summer Olympic Games opening ceremony ever. Gloria Estefan kicked it off by making another "Miami=Caliente" reference (first off, Gloria Estefan's cultural importance is being vastly overestimated by someone at the Super Bowl preshow planning committee; she's never been big, and even if she ever was, it was twenty-five motherfucking years ago. Surly there's someone who can represent the city of Miami better than her. And also, I'm incredibly sick and tired of anything even remotely associated with being Latin being referred to as "hot", or "caliente" as it were. Many Latin things are in fact quite "frio" or "insignificante", putas!). Conga drums begin to be beaten loudly and a lame marching band appears.

And then the fucking circus begins.

Yes, the one from Quebec.

Tonight, Cirque De Soleil officially joined American Idol and Fox News as the third part of my Axis Of Evil. These things poison and harm our society to almost incomprehensible levels. I don't see why anyone who is alive finds that shit amusing. Seriously.

After that glob of horseshit was over Billy Joel sang the national anthem quite quickly (which is how the fucking song is meant to be sung, there's no need to stretch every note out to five minutes) and people cheered. At this point, I would like to touch upon how awful the production value is on any CBS game. The sound was awful; muffled and toneless. The cameras constantly had condensation on the lenses (I mean, they knew it was going to rain the whole time; couldn't they send an intern out to buy some Rain-X? That shit works, yo.) and the commentators are by far the lamest on TV. But I digress, on to the half time show.

I was pretty disappointed. Don't get me wrong, Prince has written some pretty bad-ass songs in his day. He just chose not to play a single one of them at the halftime show. What was that?! A bunch of covers? "All Along The Watchtower"? "Proud Mary"? A fucking Foo Fighters song? What happened to Prince? I mean, I know what happened; he found God and renounced what made him cool in the first place -songs about fucking- which he was great at writing. Yeah, he can play guitar, we get it. So can Yngwie Malmsteen but you don't see his bloated carcass being brought out for any halftime shows. Well, perhaps at half time of a pee-wee hockey game in Sweden or Denmark or where ever the hell he was from.

So yeah, at least the game was entertaining for the first half. Then Rexy had to go and fuck it up. Way to choke dude. Now we all have to hear about the legacy of Peyton Manning for the rest of our lives and how he rose above and overcame and blah blah blah. . . . . .I'm sick of it already.

The Bitch Is Back. No, Really.

So yeah, Elton John came into my work today.

And guess who helped him check out? That's right, I was involved in a direct commercial transaction with Sir Elton John.

He came in wearing a black track suit and he was accompained by two gentlemen (bodyguard and assistant, I assume). He purchased things in pairs. Two copies of Rob Sheffield's new book, Love Is A Mixtape; two copies of Lang Lang's Dragon Songs and two copies of a book displaying the worst album covers ever. Those along with an album by Frank Yankovic (the polka guy!!!) and a couple of other books whose title I don't recall. He paid cash out of his enormous billfold which held dozens of hundred dollar bills. And you know what was really funny? He had a Barnes & Noble Member Card (which had expired, by the way, and I happily renewed). That's right, millionaires like to save 10% too.

Apparently he comes by every six months or so when he's at his place in Atlanta. I was told that last time he spent way more money, like two grand. This time he only dropped a couple of hundred dollars. Maybe he'll be back in the next few days. Maybe he'll become a regular; I'll see him every day and say "Hey Reggie, what's new?" and he'll reply, "Ya know, same ol' same ol', buddy!" and we'll talk about the weather or sports or something mundane like that.

I gave him no preferential treatment and did not even acknowledge the fact that I knew who he was. I think that tactic can really go either way with famous people, they either feel at ease and comfortable because you're not screaming "Oh my God!!" in their face or terribly offended that you don't know who they are (so insecure, aren't they?). I couldn't really tell how he responded. He was neither rude nor pleasant, very matter-of-factly all business.

My mother screamed at me when I told her about this encounter; she said that I should have asked him for an autograph, you know, for my dear old mother who was such a big fan. But I couldn't do that. First of all, that's not really a professional thing to do at work. And then, I'm not really the kind of person who asks for autographs from people, it's just weird, I'd rather just take the experience for what it is -a chance encounter with an aging queen that also happens to have been knighted by an actual aging queen.