Habla Espanola? Because I certainly don’t. Voco Latin. Anyway, saw HGTTG last night. And there was tighter security there than at fucking Kennedy. I was waiting and hoping for someone to check my rectum for recording devices but (sigh) no such butt luck. I was expecting 9 people and got 6, not bad.
And here we go: If you have read the books (or some of the books) and like them, you will like the movie. If you haven’t read the books at all, you will like the move but be confused at a few references, motivations, and characters. If you are a super fan, you might be disappointed at some things, but impressed with others.
For those that have NO idea, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy is a series of five books (The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, Life, the Universe and Everything, So Long and Thanks for All the Fish and Mostly Harmless) written by Douglas Adams. It is one of the funniest, most accessible and cleverest science fiction series ever. The whole series spans about 700 pages and the narrative is very complex and circular at times so what Hollywood did was drop all the pages in a bag and just grabbed stuff from each book and put it into an order they think the masses would understand/find the most interesting/easy to follow. Bloody Yanks. While there was a DEFINITE effort to stay close to the books, there was some pap thrown in to appeal to the movie going idiots who thought Julia Roberts deserved the Oscar for Erin fucking Brokavich over the rest of the real actresses. However, the director did an excellent job sticking to the feel of the book, including little details like the sighing doors, “Resistance is useless!”, the whale/pot of petunias (one of my favorite parts of the book) and other such details. Sadly, A LOT of stuff was glossed over, introduced and not explained or just cut out. Also, it really is hard to capture the dialogue of the book and where they tried, it didn’t always work. The acting was very well done I feel and they really did have a line on the characters. Arthur was a tad colorless but that is sort of the character. Ford (Mos Def…yes, Mos Def) is excellent as is Zaphod (Sam Rockwell- who was in a few Stella Shorts). Trillian, meh (kind of reminded me of that chick from Raiders of the Lost Ark). The best by far was Marvin, voiced by Alan Rickman. Never before has a literary character been so perfectly captured. Slartibartfast was also very well done by Bill Pughy (?) (played Phil in Shaun of the Dead).
In the end, the gigantic plot of The Hitchhiker’s Guide was boiled down and distilled into something less in many aspects but still enjoyable. P.S. The opening is probably one of the best to any movie, ever. See it and stay for the credits.
Post movie, we (Christina Notgirlftiend, Lawn, Roy, Steve and Sarah Vagina) went to Iguanas. If you’ve never been there, picture Pirates of the Caribbean (the ride) with overpriced, but very good Mexican food. I had fresh guacamole and it was fucking awesome. I also had some of the biggest coconut shrimp ever. Their Caesar was amazing too. I was noting the lack of croutons when suddenly, at the bottom I felt something…something flat and solid and warm…I was VERY worried a first, but upon further investigation, I found a big nacho, complete with melted cheese and then after a tasty moment, I figured out that it was there in lieu of the croutons! You tricky Mexican pirates you! Thank you for the salad nacho, but you still can’t have my doubloons! After the meal, we were hoping for change but they never brought it. Fucking Kikes. We left and were subsequently dropped off at our respective homes by Steve. WOO STEVE! Sooper stoked about the Family Guy thing tonight. Hoping to catch some sleeping after job/rehearsal/dog. Might do swimming if I am able. Saw the first trailer from Land of the Dead and it looked zombie. To quote Dennis Hopper from the trailer: “Zombies, man…they freak me out…” SHUDDER JERK JERK SPUTTER GLERP!!!
4.29.2005
4.28.2005
Media Frenzy
4.28.05
7:29am
So, I know you all know that I work in a Hospital. Not all of you know the name though. If you do know the name, do a Google search for two recent events; one tragic, one sort of…irresponsible I suppose? With that being said: the Media has been trying to contact employees here at the hospital to get info about these events. I was told that I will be contacted by the Media today, but that I am not to say anything. This is FAR too good an opportunity to pass up. Today is going to be fun.
P.S. Anyone read the Daily News today?
P.P.S. Middle of page ten?
Also, the State Dept. has several representatives here as well. They have already fired one member of the staff for not paying attention to his job. My remaining time here can now be measured in hours!!!
Now, a topic having NOTHING to do with the missing, frozen, partially autopsied body of an 87-yaer old woman…
Things are bubbling. Bubbling xmax, if you will…and I think that you will. This incorporeal poltergeist of excitement is beginning to take solid shape. It seems to be manifesting in the form of a bull. An Excitement Bull, fully equipped with Horns of Anticipation. Friends, I am ready to be gored. Ready xmax, to be gored xmax.
At the moment, my living room has been rotated 90 degrees, the empty room that will be officially Philip’s in a matter of hours is not empty and I have a DVD from Netflix that has been in my possession, unwatched, for almost a month.
Xmaxcitement
Nyarlethotep Beck KJUDOS TrotterNAIRE XMAX 5.14.05
The new NIN album in 5.1 Surround 5.03.05
NIN in concert 5.16.05
Free screening of Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy 4.28.05 (show up at the Ziegfield [141 W. 54th] BEFORE 7:30 tonight to come with me or call my cell)
Family Guy live cast reading and new episode screening 4.29.05
Getting ripped as shit 4.27.05 - __.__.__
**MEDIA UPDATE** The first call just came in at 8:09am from NY1 News!! My demeanor was coy and maybe even a little rambunctious, but I kept my lips tightly sealed about the matter at hand. I did make sure to inform them that one of their news people interviewed me when I was Hagrid. That gave the lady pause, and then she hung up. More news as it comes in…**MEDIA UPDATE**
Lysistrata: The Musical Redux 5.21.05-5.22.05
An interesting note about this show and its aftereffects on me: After the show closed, I felt this CRUSHING depression and loneliness. It was like theatrical post partum, seriously. I had this shared bond with these 10 new people for three months and then, BAM, gone. Thinking it over in a clearer state of mind, I decided that I would probably only want to hang out with a few of them and maybe one of them would probably want to hang out with me. Once I applied a healthy smear of logic to the situation, I started feeling better instantly. Philip being in close vicinity also helped. Sometimes tea and Philip are better than a Prozac Colada. See, I have friends, close friends that I hang out with from time to time. Aside from them and the people I work with at the hospital, there aren’t really many social interactions in my life. I suddenly had TEN NEW SOCIAL CONTACTS and I suppose I got a little overloaded and when they were suddenly gone, a part of me felt like ten friends had just disappeared. Another big reason that affected me was my whole routine thing. These people had become part of a routine and that was altered quickly and violently. Like the deli on my corner being shutdown for health reasons…ick. We’ll find out how I really feel about them (and, I suppose, how they really feel about me) in a few weeks. If anyone really seems to have missed me or has a vested interest in hanging out, maybe I’ll actually try to form a friendship with them. If not, fuck them. They aren’t worth shitting on. I’ve got friends.
7:29am
So, I know you all know that I work in a Hospital. Not all of you know the name though. If you do know the name, do a Google search for two recent events; one tragic, one sort of…irresponsible I suppose? With that being said: the Media has been trying to contact employees here at the hospital to get info about these events. I was told that I will be contacted by the Media today, but that I am not to say anything. This is FAR too good an opportunity to pass up. Today is going to be fun.
P.S. Anyone read the Daily News today?
P.P.S. Middle of page ten?
Also, the State Dept. has several representatives here as well. They have already fired one member of the staff for not paying attention to his job. My remaining time here can now be measured in hours!!!
Now, a topic having NOTHING to do with the missing, frozen, partially autopsied body of an 87-yaer old woman…
Things are bubbling. Bubbling xmax, if you will…and I think that you will. This incorporeal poltergeist of excitement is beginning to take solid shape. It seems to be manifesting in the form of a bull. An Excitement Bull, fully equipped with Horns of Anticipation. Friends, I am ready to be gored. Ready xmax, to be gored xmax.
At the moment, my living room has been rotated 90 degrees, the empty room that will be officially Philip’s in a matter of hours is not empty and I have a DVD from Netflix that has been in my possession, unwatched, for almost a month.
Xmaxcitement
Nyarlethotep Beck KJUDOS TrotterNAIRE XMAX 5.14.05
The new NIN album in 5.1 Surround 5.03.05
NIN in concert 5.16.05
Free screening of Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy 4.28.05 (show up at the Ziegfield [141 W. 54th] BEFORE 7:30 tonight to come with me or call my cell)
Family Guy live cast reading and new episode screening 4.29.05
Getting ripped as shit 4.27.05 - __.__.__
**MEDIA UPDATE** The first call just came in at 8:09am from NY1 News!! My demeanor was coy and maybe even a little rambunctious, but I kept my lips tightly sealed about the matter at hand. I did make sure to inform them that one of their news people interviewed me when I was Hagrid. That gave the lady pause, and then she hung up. More news as it comes in…**MEDIA UPDATE**
Lysistrata: The Musical Redux 5.21.05-5.22.05
An interesting note about this show and its aftereffects on me: After the show closed, I felt this CRUSHING depression and loneliness. It was like theatrical post partum, seriously. I had this shared bond with these 10 new people for three months and then, BAM, gone. Thinking it over in a clearer state of mind, I decided that I would probably only want to hang out with a few of them and maybe one of them would probably want to hang out with me. Once I applied a healthy smear of logic to the situation, I started feeling better instantly. Philip being in close vicinity also helped. Sometimes tea and Philip are better than a Prozac Colada. See, I have friends, close friends that I hang out with from time to time. Aside from them and the people I work with at the hospital, there aren’t really many social interactions in my life. I suddenly had TEN NEW SOCIAL CONTACTS and I suppose I got a little overloaded and when they were suddenly gone, a part of me felt like ten friends had just disappeared. Another big reason that affected me was my whole routine thing. These people had become part of a routine and that was altered quickly and violently. Like the deli on my corner being shutdown for health reasons…ick. We’ll find out how I really feel about them (and, I suppose, how they really feel about me) in a few weeks. If anyone really seems to have missed me or has a vested interest in hanging out, maybe I’ll actually try to form a friendship with them. If not, fuck them. They aren’t worth shitting on. I’ve got friends.
4.12.2005
The mirror has two faces...and both are mine.
So a few days a go I updated my web site www.angelfire.com/ny2/GuidoHut) that I've had since high school. However, a day or so after that update, I went to update again and could not sign in as ny2/GuidoHut, but only ny2/guidohut. The server was not recognizing the difference between the caps and the lower case. I was a bit confused, but there was no real loss or damage, so I just updated guidohut resigning myself to being unable to ever change the content of GuidoHut ever again. Just this minute however, I was allowed access to BOTH. The question: What I should I do with these two halves of a whole? The possibilities are limited by space and bandwidth, but hmm...
4.10.2005
4.04.2005
WHY OH WHY DID THE GREAT GOOD LORD MAKE ME SOOOOOO SEXY?! It boggles the mind of everything on this planet and several others. GOLD bay bay PURE FUCKING WET GOLD! TASTE IT! TASTE THE LOVE! I MADE IT MYSELF! BIZAGITRONICON FUCKING XMAX!!!!!!!!!!!!!
3.31.2005
3.30.2005
Where-o?
And here is my review of the new Beck album Guero
It’s not Sea Change. It’s not Mellow Gold. It’s not Midnite Vultures. It’s not Odelay. It’s not Mutations. It’s Guero. So shut up.
E-Pro - Hello! Welcome to the new album! This is the perfect first single/intro to the album track. It has an infectious, accessible rawk guitar riff and a sing along chorus that you will be humming until you claw out that section of your brain…and that’s good. The lyrics (if you can make any of them out) are darker than anything Beck has written before. They are still non-linear and non-narrative, but there are definite themes introduced in “E-Pro” that are prominent throughout the album: (death, dust, devils).
Que Onda Guero – Que Onda Guero (“What’s up, white boy?”) is Beck reminiscing about his roots. He grew up in East L.A. and the numerous (and incredibly obnoxious) Spanish voices heard throughout this track are actual recordings made by Beck just walking around the streets of East L.A. Less obnoxious and more dorky is the rapping Spanglish Beck springs on us. While the subject matter of this song really doesn’t add to the lyrical themes of the album, it pinpoints the musically theme: Beck Does East L.A., South America, Mexico, Brazil and Points Beyond. Ole!
Girl – Picture it: You’re driving in a little red Corvette with the top down, the wind is blowing through your hair, the sun is shining, everything is pure love, baby, pure love. That’s the music and tone of this song, but if you stop putting on suntan lotion and polishing your sunglasses long enough to notice the lyrics, you will find yourself hard pressed to resist a shiver despite the warm sun. Reading the lyrics gives the impression of reading a serial killers journal: “I saw her, yeah I saw her with her black tongue tied round the roses” leads to “and I know I’m going to steal her eye/she doesn’t even know what’s wrong/I know I’m gonna make her die/and take her where her soul belongs/I know I’m gonna steal her eye/nothing that I wouldn’t try/my sun-eyed girl”. The naïve portrayal of the girl and the use of the possessive (my sun-eyed girl) just make this song even creepier.
Missing – This song was originally titled “Brazillica” and although “Missing” is more appropriate lyrically, this song feels like “Brazillica”. The music fills one with the image of someone at a club who has lost their way and is looking for their friend while dancing at the same time. A very swaying song. The lyrics tell a much sadder story. A man obsessed with a woman. “I prayed heaven today/would bring its hammer down on me/and pound you out of my head/I can’t think with you in it”. He goes on to try and console himself with the idea that “something always takes the place of missing pieces/you can take and put together even though you know there’s something missing” but eventually, we see his mind so consumed by this girl, he finishes off by mumbling a more vague “something always missing/always someone missing something”. This track also features some string arrangements by Beck and his freakishly talented father David Campbell (see “all gut-wrenching string arrangements from Sea Change”).
Black Tambourine – Did someone ask for the double order of funk? African tribal drums provide a pelvic thrusting spine to this track about slavery and sex. Yes, Beck made a funky song about slavery and sex. “Black heart in effigy/we sing a song that was hated/all dressed in rag and bone/shark smell the blood that I’m bleeding/I know there’s something wrong/might take a fire to kill it/might take a hurricane/don’t know what life that I’m livin’” Read into it what you want, but that verse smells of slavery. The sex part comes in at the end where Beck states: “and when the sun is down/we’ll shake and rattle our bodies/to keep it warm at night/my tambourine is still shaking”. For those that aren’t familiar, “tambourine” is slang for vagina (thank you, Prince).
Earthquake Weather – The title and atmosphere of this song go perfectly together. The background features unsettling moaning noises, the guitar makes you uncomfortable and the lyrics? They don’t help. “Something’s coming/sky is purple/dogs are howling/to themselves/days are changing with the weather/like a rip tide could rip us away/I push/I pull/the days go slow/into a void we filled with death and noise/that laughs/falls off their maps/all cured of pain/and doubts in your little brain”. This is the kind of music that zombies masturbate to.
Hell Yes – I hope you kept your Funk Pants nearby because it’s about to get smelly again. In this song, Beck brags “my beat is correct”. As a Doctor of Beats, I can completely support Mr. Hansen’s assertion. Only Beck can take the flavor of blues harmonica, Japanese techno-rock and a Dust Brothers bassline and cook such a tasty musical burrito. This is the most nonsensical track on the album (a true return to “the lyrics being the most important and least important element in a song”) but it matters not! This track is funky in an archetypal sort of way; in other words, the Collective Subconscious understands and appreciates the funk of this track. I dare anyone hearing “Hell Yes” to try and stop from feeling like month old milk…rotten with funk. “Perfunctory idols rewriting their bibles/with magic markers running out of their ink/lives in white out/turn the lights out/fax machine anthems/get your damn hands up” gladly Beck, gladly.
Broken Drum – A pause from the funk attack. This is a simple, beautiful, sad song. The almost palpable feeling of isolation and loneliness comes from the echoing guitar, the piano and Beck’s cold/warm vocals. In this song you can actually witness the end of a relationship, apparently because of drug use. “I won’t take it back/I’ve seen your eyes”. But although he seems to be taking a firm stance on the issue, he finishes off with “Your setting sun/your broken drum/your little drugs/I’ll never forget you/never forget you”. It looks like in the end, all he has to remember her by are her bad habits.
Scarecrow – This is “walking along a dust road” music. AND it features the bassline to Michael Jackson’s “Billie Jean”. What more could you ask for? The problem with this track is that it has little to offer when compared to the other works presented. It’s still a good song, it fits in well with the aesthetic of the album with lyrics like “I’m walking to the other side/the devil tryin’ to take my mind/and my soul’s just a silhouette in the ashes of a cigarette” and “I wanted hope from a grave/I wanted strength from a slave/what gives you comfort now might be the end of you then”, but I guess every album has to have a weak link, and this is it.
Go It Alone – If I may take a moment to talk about handclaps. Any song can be made 40 times better by encompassing handclaps. I do not know why; maybe it has something to do with accessibility and making the listener feel like clapping along, but be it They Might Be Giants, Cake, eels, Beck, Nine Inch Nails or Weezer, it fucking works. This track, with its handclaps, Jack White bassline and dusty imagery fits perfectly into the whole. This is a wonderful track to slow down to. If you’re pacing or nervous or something like that, just take a moment to feel how laid back Beck is and chiiilllll…but don’t chill too much. Although this is a great slacking song, the last line (“the sky is burning in my rearview mirror”) reminds you that you are in Guero Town…and things are totally fucked up.
Farewell Ride – See what I told you? Fucked right up. This is the goddamned dustiest song I have ever heard. In fact, you can actually hear the dust on the guitar strings. Aside from the guitar, there are actually chains in the instrumentation of this song as well as the dustiest of dusty instruments: the harmonica. This song finds Beck waiting to be brought to the gallows. “I don’t see the face of kindness/I don’t hear the mission bell/I don’t smell the morning roses/all I see is/all I see is/two white horses in a line/carrying me to my burying ground”. Beck is apparently not doin’ fine anymore.
Rental Car – A last burst of energy, and very well done, might I add. Again handclaps sooth our souls until the always excellent “yeah yeah yeah” chorus comes in. This is a good song until about two thirds of the way through when it becomes an excellent song thanks, in part to the Dust Brothers. “Hey now girl/at the end of the road/down where the reaper is walking alone/singing a death knell clapping along/at the end of the night there’s a road we’ll be on/taking me far/far as a rental car can go.” Great, now Beck’s dead.
Emergency Exit - Amazing ending to an amazing album. This song has some of the most somber lyrics ever sung by Beck and the feeling of “over” is totally there, man. “What’s left of death is more than fear/let dust be dust and the good lord near/it’s a little too much to ask of faith/a little too late to wait for fate/so tell the angels what you’ve seen/scarecrow shadow on a Nazarene.” I don’t think Beck will be breaking any sexx laws any time soon.
This is where the regular CD ends, but the super deluxe DJ Shadow remix version has 7 more tracks, three bonus B-sides and four remixes. Here is some info on the three B-sides…
Send A Message To Her – The only reason this was not included on the album is because it resembles a few others on the album proper and that sucks because is a great song. Awesome guitar, catchy-as-hell chorus and a synthed-out 80’s breakdown towards the end would have made this an instant classic. But I guess you need B-sides.
Chain Reaction – A heavily distorted track blasts out uber-fuzz rock guitar and malfunctioning computer blips and bloops. This man has a bad case f crazy…in his soul. I must say I appreciated this song 100 times more after I saw the lyrics. “Barracuda believer with a heathen guitar/apocalyptic nostalgia tokens/dark arks set sail for Antarctica oceans”. Pure Beck. Now if only I could make these lyrics out…
Clap Hands – See? Beck digs the importance of handclaps. This song expresses the inner-robot-gypsy in Beck…more so than his other work to date. The BPM (beats per minute) are exactly 240 so you can cook eggs to this song. “I’ll drive to San Francisco/death to disco/I’ll take my shirt off/I’ll swim to Mexico/don’t tell the mermaids where I’m goin’” I won’t tell the mermaids a thing, Beck. See you in Mexico.
In conclusion: buy the album. I recommend spending the extra five or seven dollars on the deluxe edition. The regular CD is the first thirteen tracks in a standard jewel case, but for a little extra you get a 52-page hardcover book with the lyrics, pictures of Beck and original art by Marcel Dzama, the aforementioned CD but with the seven bonus tracks (remixes are “Girl” (Octet remix), “Broken Drum” (Boards of Canada remix), “Still Missing” (Roykopp remix of “Missing”) and “Fax Machine Anthems” (Dizzee Rascal remix of “Hell Yes”)) AND a DVD with the entire album remixed in 5.1 with a visual mix made for each track by the British video artist D-Fuse, random interesting photos and two music videos for “E-Pro” and “Black Tambourine”.
More info on Beck.
It’s not Sea Change. It’s not Mellow Gold. It’s not Midnite Vultures. It’s not Odelay. It’s not Mutations. It’s Guero. So shut up.
E-Pro - Hello! Welcome to the new album! This is the perfect first single/intro to the album track. It has an infectious, accessible rawk guitar riff and a sing along chorus that you will be humming until you claw out that section of your brain…and that’s good. The lyrics (if you can make any of them out) are darker than anything Beck has written before. They are still non-linear and non-narrative, but there are definite themes introduced in “E-Pro” that are prominent throughout the album: (death, dust, devils).
Que Onda Guero – Que Onda Guero (“What’s up, white boy?”) is Beck reminiscing about his roots. He grew up in East L.A. and the numerous (and incredibly obnoxious) Spanish voices heard throughout this track are actual recordings made by Beck just walking around the streets of East L.A. Less obnoxious and more dorky is the rapping Spanglish Beck springs on us. While the subject matter of this song really doesn’t add to the lyrical themes of the album, it pinpoints the musically theme: Beck Does East L.A., South America, Mexico, Brazil and Points Beyond. Ole!
Girl – Picture it: You’re driving in a little red Corvette with the top down, the wind is blowing through your hair, the sun is shining, everything is pure love, baby, pure love. That’s the music and tone of this song, but if you stop putting on suntan lotion and polishing your sunglasses long enough to notice the lyrics, you will find yourself hard pressed to resist a shiver despite the warm sun. Reading the lyrics gives the impression of reading a serial killers journal: “I saw her, yeah I saw her with her black tongue tied round the roses” leads to “and I know I’m going to steal her eye/she doesn’t even know what’s wrong/I know I’m gonna make her die/and take her where her soul belongs/I know I’m gonna steal her eye/nothing that I wouldn’t try/my sun-eyed girl”. The naïve portrayal of the girl and the use of the possessive (my sun-eyed girl) just make this song even creepier.
Missing – This song was originally titled “Brazillica” and although “Missing” is more appropriate lyrically, this song feels like “Brazillica”. The music fills one with the image of someone at a club who has lost their way and is looking for their friend while dancing at the same time. A very swaying song. The lyrics tell a much sadder story. A man obsessed with a woman. “I prayed heaven today/would bring its hammer down on me/and pound you out of my head/I can’t think with you in it”. He goes on to try and console himself with the idea that “something always takes the place of missing pieces/you can take and put together even though you know there’s something missing” but eventually, we see his mind so consumed by this girl, he finishes off by mumbling a more vague “something always missing/always someone missing something”. This track also features some string arrangements by Beck and his freakishly talented father David Campbell (see “all gut-wrenching string arrangements from Sea Change”).
Black Tambourine – Did someone ask for the double order of funk? African tribal drums provide a pelvic thrusting spine to this track about slavery and sex. Yes, Beck made a funky song about slavery and sex. “Black heart in effigy/we sing a song that was hated/all dressed in rag and bone/shark smell the blood that I’m bleeding/I know there’s something wrong/might take a fire to kill it/might take a hurricane/don’t know what life that I’m livin’” Read into it what you want, but that verse smells of slavery. The sex part comes in at the end where Beck states: “and when the sun is down/we’ll shake and rattle our bodies/to keep it warm at night/my tambourine is still shaking”. For those that aren’t familiar, “tambourine” is slang for vagina (thank you, Prince).
Earthquake Weather – The title and atmosphere of this song go perfectly together. The background features unsettling moaning noises, the guitar makes you uncomfortable and the lyrics? They don’t help. “Something’s coming/sky is purple/dogs are howling/to themselves/days are changing with the weather/like a rip tide could rip us away/I push/I pull/the days go slow/into a void we filled with death and noise/that laughs/falls off their maps/all cured of pain/and doubts in your little brain”. This is the kind of music that zombies masturbate to.
Hell Yes – I hope you kept your Funk Pants nearby because it’s about to get smelly again. In this song, Beck brags “my beat is correct”. As a Doctor of Beats, I can completely support Mr. Hansen’s assertion. Only Beck can take the flavor of blues harmonica, Japanese techno-rock and a Dust Brothers bassline and cook such a tasty musical burrito. This is the most nonsensical track on the album (a true return to “the lyrics being the most important and least important element in a song”) but it matters not! This track is funky in an archetypal sort of way; in other words, the Collective Subconscious understands and appreciates the funk of this track. I dare anyone hearing “Hell Yes” to try and stop from feeling like month old milk…rotten with funk. “Perfunctory idols rewriting their bibles/with magic markers running out of their ink/lives in white out/turn the lights out/fax machine anthems/get your damn hands up” gladly Beck, gladly.
Broken Drum – A pause from the funk attack. This is a simple, beautiful, sad song. The almost palpable feeling of isolation and loneliness comes from the echoing guitar, the piano and Beck’s cold/warm vocals. In this song you can actually witness the end of a relationship, apparently because of drug use. “I won’t take it back/I’ve seen your eyes”. But although he seems to be taking a firm stance on the issue, he finishes off with “Your setting sun/your broken drum/your little drugs/I’ll never forget you/never forget you”. It looks like in the end, all he has to remember her by are her bad habits.
Scarecrow – This is “walking along a dust road” music. AND it features the bassline to Michael Jackson’s “Billie Jean”. What more could you ask for? The problem with this track is that it has little to offer when compared to the other works presented. It’s still a good song, it fits in well with the aesthetic of the album with lyrics like “I’m walking to the other side/the devil tryin’ to take my mind/and my soul’s just a silhouette in the ashes of a cigarette” and “I wanted hope from a grave/I wanted strength from a slave/what gives you comfort now might be the end of you then”, but I guess every album has to have a weak link, and this is it.
Go It Alone – If I may take a moment to talk about handclaps. Any song can be made 40 times better by encompassing handclaps. I do not know why; maybe it has something to do with accessibility and making the listener feel like clapping along, but be it They Might Be Giants, Cake, eels, Beck, Nine Inch Nails or Weezer, it fucking works. This track, with its handclaps, Jack White bassline and dusty imagery fits perfectly into the whole. This is a wonderful track to slow down to. If you’re pacing or nervous or something like that, just take a moment to feel how laid back Beck is and chiiilllll…but don’t chill too much. Although this is a great slacking song, the last line (“the sky is burning in my rearview mirror”) reminds you that you are in Guero Town…and things are totally fucked up.
Farewell Ride – See what I told you? Fucked right up. This is the goddamned dustiest song I have ever heard. In fact, you can actually hear the dust on the guitar strings. Aside from the guitar, there are actually chains in the instrumentation of this song as well as the dustiest of dusty instruments: the harmonica. This song finds Beck waiting to be brought to the gallows. “I don’t see the face of kindness/I don’t hear the mission bell/I don’t smell the morning roses/all I see is/all I see is/two white horses in a line/carrying me to my burying ground”. Beck is apparently not doin’ fine anymore.
Rental Car – A last burst of energy, and very well done, might I add. Again handclaps sooth our souls until the always excellent “yeah yeah yeah” chorus comes in. This is a good song until about two thirds of the way through when it becomes an excellent song thanks, in part to the Dust Brothers. “Hey now girl/at the end of the road/down where the reaper is walking alone/singing a death knell clapping along/at the end of the night there’s a road we’ll be on/taking me far/far as a rental car can go.” Great, now Beck’s dead.
Emergency Exit - Amazing ending to an amazing album. This song has some of the most somber lyrics ever sung by Beck and the feeling of “over” is totally there, man. “What’s left of death is more than fear/let dust be dust and the good lord near/it’s a little too much to ask of faith/a little too late to wait for fate/so tell the angels what you’ve seen/scarecrow shadow on a Nazarene.” I don’t think Beck will be breaking any sexx laws any time soon.
This is where the regular CD ends, but the super deluxe DJ Shadow remix version has 7 more tracks, three bonus B-sides and four remixes. Here is some info on the three B-sides…
Send A Message To Her – The only reason this was not included on the album is because it resembles a few others on the album proper and that sucks because is a great song. Awesome guitar, catchy-as-hell chorus and a synthed-out 80’s breakdown towards the end would have made this an instant classic. But I guess you need B-sides.
Chain Reaction – A heavily distorted track blasts out uber-fuzz rock guitar and malfunctioning computer blips and bloops. This man has a bad case f crazy…in his soul. I must say I appreciated this song 100 times more after I saw the lyrics. “Barracuda believer with a heathen guitar/apocalyptic nostalgia tokens/dark arks set sail for Antarctica oceans”. Pure Beck. Now if only I could make these lyrics out…
Clap Hands – See? Beck digs the importance of handclaps. This song expresses the inner-robot-gypsy in Beck…more so than his other work to date. The BPM (beats per minute) are exactly 240 so you can cook eggs to this song. “I’ll drive to San Francisco/death to disco/I’ll take my shirt off/I’ll swim to Mexico/don’t tell the mermaids where I’m goin’” I won’t tell the mermaids a thing, Beck. See you in Mexico.
In conclusion: buy the album. I recommend spending the extra five or seven dollars on the deluxe edition. The regular CD is the first thirteen tracks in a standard jewel case, but for a little extra you get a 52-page hardcover book with the lyrics, pictures of Beck and original art by Marcel Dzama, the aforementioned CD but with the seven bonus tracks (remixes are “Girl” (Octet remix), “Broken Drum” (Boards of Canada remix), “Still Missing” (Roykopp remix of “Missing”) and “Fax Machine Anthems” (Dizzee Rascal remix of “Hell Yes”)) AND a DVD with the entire album remixed in 5.1 with a visual mix made for each track by the British video artist D-Fuse, random interesting photos and two music videos for “E-Pro” and “Black Tambourine”.
More info on Beck.
3.29.2005
3.22.2005
Lysistrata: The Musical
(formerly Women of Athens)
April 7th to April 24th at TADA Theatre
15 W. 28th Street
Showtimes
Thurs. 4/7 8pm
Fri. (my parents are going to this one) 4/8 8pm
Sat. 4/9 8pm
Sun. (matinee) 4/10 3pm
Mon. (press) 4/11 8pm
Thurs. 4/14 8pm
Fri. 4/15 8pm
Sat. 4/16 8pm
Fri. 4/22 8pm
Sat. (i believe will is coming to this one) 4/23 8pm
Sun. (matinee) 4/24 3pm
Tickets
Tickets are $21 ($15 for students & children)
Phone: (888) 868-4444
On Line: Lysistrata: The Musical
(formerly Women of Athens)
April 7th to April 24th at TADA Theatre
15 W. 28th Street
Showtimes
Thurs. 4/7 8pm
Fri. (my parents are going to this one) 4/8 8pm
Sat. 4/9 8pm
Sun. (matinee) 4/10 3pm
Mon. (press) 4/11 8pm
Thurs. 4/14 8pm
Fri. 4/15 8pm
Sat. 4/16 8pm
Fri. 4/22 8pm
Sat. (i believe will is coming to this one) 4/23 8pm
Sun. (matinee) 4/24 3pm
Tickets
Tickets are $21 ($15 for students & children)
Phone: (888) 868-4444
On Line: Lysistrata: The Musical
3.15.2005
ANNOUNCEMENT
All you idiot heathen pigs: Go here and prepare to get mind fucked by my philosocock.
Also, I was informed yesterday that my Le Petit Ecolier commercial is on TV. It was spotted during a show called "Extreme Makeovers" around 8:30 PM. I am an animated cookie with a French accent. I also happen to play said cookie in the aforementioned commercial.
Also, I was informed yesterday that my Le Petit Ecolier commercial is on TV. It was spotted during a show called "Extreme Makeovers" around 8:30 PM. I am an animated cookie with a French accent. I also happen to play said cookie in the aforementioned commercial.
3.10.2005
3.09.2005
3.02.2005
And now I'm gay...
http://www.gaypimp.com/mvideo.html
Watch both videos. Be gay...in the most hetero sense this footage allows.
Also, did any of you fags check out the G.I. Joe PSA's? Well then fuck off. Your fucking loss.
Watch both videos. Be gay...in the most hetero sense this footage allows.
Also, did any of you fags check out the G.I. Joe PSA's? Well then fuck off. Your fucking loss.
2.28.2005
over, done
2.28.05
1:36am
Did you know that Elijah Wood was in Back to the Future II? And Billy Zane? And Flea? I have a feeling that Christina (A) did, but only because she looks like Lea Thompson.
4:04am
You know, I think “Back to the Future” might be my favorite movie trilogy (along with Indiana Jones, the Jersey Trilogy and maybe something else I can’t bring to memory at this moment). The second one is my favorite for its totally favorable (except for the humorously high inflation) depiction of the future. I can’t think of any other movies that show the future without flaws. A seemingly perfect future where everything is great except for the censorship or the brutal police tactics or the cannibals or something along those lines. Then there’s the post-Apocalypse crater of society in which the Omega Man is King. Then, my personal favorite…the Negative Utopia; where only the rich have it good and everyone else is a mindless tool/victim of The Machine. Thank you Orwell, Huxley and the guy that wrote “We”; he was Russian. It’s also my favorite because of the wonderful gadgets and Michael J. Fox in a dress playing his own daughter.
The third one would have been great if it weren’t marred by the idiotic love story of Lloyd and Steenburger or whatever her name is and the appearance of ZZ Top. Also, I’m just not a big fan of the Wild West, although “Wild Wild West” is a thoroughly enjoyable movie.
And the first one…the whole movie takes on a different feel when you know as much about Crispin Glover as I do. George McFly ceases to be the nervous, jittery, awkward fatherly dork and becomes a really terrifying character. When he balls up his fist to hit Biff towards the end, you can actually see the Fires of Hell in his eyes. Shudder. And, Christina (A), in the beginning when we see the Loser version of the McFly family, that should serve as a cautionary tale as far as what will happen if you marry some guy your father hits with a car and take to drinking a lot. However, Lea Thompson as the naive 50’s sex kitten? Jackpot. Also, Huey Lewis has a cameo along with more Billy Zane. He was excellent in Demon Knight.
************************************************
Last night was the last 7p to 7a shift for a while. I feel free.
1:36am
Did you know that Elijah Wood was in Back to the Future II? And Billy Zane? And Flea? I have a feeling that Christina (A) did, but only because she looks like Lea Thompson.
4:04am
You know, I think “Back to the Future” might be my favorite movie trilogy (along with Indiana Jones, the Jersey Trilogy and maybe something else I can’t bring to memory at this moment). The second one is my favorite for its totally favorable (except for the humorously high inflation) depiction of the future. I can’t think of any other movies that show the future without flaws. A seemingly perfect future where everything is great except for the censorship or the brutal police tactics or the cannibals or something along those lines. Then there’s the post-Apocalypse crater of society in which the Omega Man is King. Then, my personal favorite…the Negative Utopia; where only the rich have it good and everyone else is a mindless tool/victim of The Machine. Thank you Orwell, Huxley and the guy that wrote “We”; he was Russian. It’s also my favorite because of the wonderful gadgets and Michael J. Fox in a dress playing his own daughter.
The third one would have been great if it weren’t marred by the idiotic love story of Lloyd and Steenburger or whatever her name is and the appearance of ZZ Top. Also, I’m just not a big fan of the Wild West, although “Wild Wild West” is a thoroughly enjoyable movie.
And the first one…the whole movie takes on a different feel when you know as much about Crispin Glover as I do. George McFly ceases to be the nervous, jittery, awkward fatherly dork and becomes a really terrifying character. When he balls up his fist to hit Biff towards the end, you can actually see the Fires of Hell in his eyes. Shudder. And, Christina (A), in the beginning when we see the Loser version of the McFly family, that should serve as a cautionary tale as far as what will happen if you marry some guy your father hits with a car and take to drinking a lot. However, Lea Thompson as the naive 50’s sex kitten? Jackpot. Also, Huey Lewis has a cameo along with more Billy Zane. He was excellent in Demon Knight.
************************************************
Last night was the last 7p to 7a shift for a while. I feel free.
2.22.2005
in another Place
Before I sleep tonight, I found that someone stumbled upon another Place and, even more interesting, found ME in this Place. I am called Mr. Salad Fingers. I have five adventures. http://www.fat-pie.com/flash.htm
Behold Paulus, Veritable God Star of the Two Lands
2.22.05
10:05pm
Saturday night I worked 7pm to 7am Sunday morning. Sunday night to Monday morning I worked 7pm to 7am. Since it was a holiday weekend, I worked the same from Monday night to Tuesday morning. I had to wake up two hours after my shift ended to go to a rehearsal for Lysisrata: The Musical (the new title of Women of Athens). I arrived back home at 1 or so and had a shower; I was about to take a sleep when I was called in to work from 3pm to 11pm. Things inside my head are very very weird. I discussed this godcurse with Philip and he explained that sleep deprivation is like a well. The longer you go without sleep, the deeper the well, BUT if you go with NO SLEEP AT ALL, the well remains covered, but, if you take a small nap to “recharge” (as I did from 7:30 to 9 this morning) you open the well and fall in.
Anyway, the purpose of this entry, the Slow Poke Mexican Mouse came back in and has bee using the phone for five minutes or so, When he was in here before he was talking like the mouse slow, sedated, annoying etc. However, this conversation was with a family member who he was trying to get to pick him up tomorrow so it was much more energetic (I don’t think he likes it here, something about hearing strange voices in the night). He sounded like a Spanish Muppet. I have never actually seen the guy and I think if I did it would ruin the image I have of him in my mind: A sick puppet with a big bushy moustache and a sombrero. I can’t wait to start imitating him to everyone I know. I feel soooo strange today. What the hell have I done to myself. I got a package from my parents, it contains cereal. Ceeeeereal. I also got my comforter from Land’s End. It is to be charcoal gray. It shall be snuggly. I NOW UNDERSTAND THE TRUE MEANING OF THE PAULITOSPHERE. Granted it will take several lifetimes to express it in anything but lustful grunts, but I’ll keep whacking away at it. Inside all of you is a little me. I wan you all to embrace me and have a conversation with me. Talk about my favorite foods, my favorite textures and ducks and you will feel at peace with everything. Absofuckinglutely EVE RY THING. I suggest you do it now before I sleep tonight and dream you all into a different place. A place where it might take days or weeks for me to find you. You would NOT want to be lost in my subconscious. What a dark and shining place that is. Everything looks shiny from here I am now. I an on the threshold of something. About to pass over into another Place. Tomorrow, I will be a talking raccoon. I am fine with this. THE PHONE. Don’t worry I got it. Something is wrong and I can fix it but will I choose to do so? Hm. I AMMMM a progressive thinker. But am I progressive tinkerer? I tink not.
Angie has reentered my life after a year of being away. I never realized how much I missed her til I spoke with he for an hour between naps at the hospital. She will be drawn to the City at some point hopefully. I remember little of our conversation and the changes made to the opening number of Lysistrata this morning because the lack of sleep (aside from making my feel like an elephant without hands) it has muddled my memory a bitty poo. I think there was a note change but I’ll have to ask. I listened to nothing but the new nineinchnails song on the way too and froo the rehearsal this morning. I guess I like it now. Fert. Well, I think the stream has dried up. Oh my gooly gosh, I can hear the rats in the wall. They are chewing on things best left unmentioned in polite society. You filthy bastards, YOU are responsible for Thompson’s death. YOU. I put that lame on your fucking heads. May the burden of it shatter your dirty necks. Hilary is also someone I have to maintain contact with. Her show was good. I feel I should do something like it, but I don’t have enough terrible things in my life to warrant an audience. Maybe I could just sit naked in a cage eating cheese balls and Big Macs for an hour. That’s art, isn’t it? I am fucking hope so. A root beer soda is nothing. I made it up but you will never hear me admit it. You picky choosey cockhorse. Eat all the cock you want and may you choke on the resulting spume. Also, Phil is having some trouble dancing. Help him if you canlkn ./
10:05pm
Saturday night I worked 7pm to 7am Sunday morning. Sunday night to Monday morning I worked 7pm to 7am. Since it was a holiday weekend, I worked the same from Monday night to Tuesday morning. I had to wake up two hours after my shift ended to go to a rehearsal for Lysisrata: The Musical (the new title of Women of Athens). I arrived back home at 1 or so and had a shower; I was about to take a sleep when I was called in to work from 3pm to 11pm. Things inside my head are very very weird. I discussed this godcurse with Philip and he explained that sleep deprivation is like a well. The longer you go without sleep, the deeper the well, BUT if you go with NO SLEEP AT ALL, the well remains covered, but, if you take a small nap to “recharge” (as I did from 7:30 to 9 this morning) you open the well and fall in.
Anyway, the purpose of this entry, the Slow Poke Mexican Mouse came back in and has bee using the phone for five minutes or so, When he was in here before he was talking like the mouse slow, sedated, annoying etc. However, this conversation was with a family member who he was trying to get to pick him up tomorrow so it was much more energetic (I don’t think he likes it here, something about hearing strange voices in the night). He sounded like a Spanish Muppet. I have never actually seen the guy and I think if I did it would ruin the image I have of him in my mind: A sick puppet with a big bushy moustache and a sombrero. I can’t wait to start imitating him to everyone I know. I feel soooo strange today. What the hell have I done to myself. I got a package from my parents, it contains cereal. Ceeeeereal. I also got my comforter from Land’s End. It is to be charcoal gray. It shall be snuggly. I NOW UNDERSTAND THE TRUE MEANING OF THE PAULITOSPHERE. Granted it will take several lifetimes to express it in anything but lustful grunts, but I’ll keep whacking away at it. Inside all of you is a little me. I wan you all to embrace me and have a conversation with me. Talk about my favorite foods, my favorite textures and ducks and you will feel at peace with everything. Absofuckinglutely EVE RY THING. I suggest you do it now before I sleep tonight and dream you all into a different place. A place where it might take days or weeks for me to find you. You would NOT want to be lost in my subconscious. What a dark and shining place that is. Everything looks shiny from here I am now. I an on the threshold of something. About to pass over into another Place. Tomorrow, I will be a talking raccoon. I am fine with this. THE PHONE. Don’t worry I got it. Something is wrong and I can fix it but will I choose to do so? Hm. I AMMMM a progressive thinker. But am I progressive tinkerer? I tink not.
Angie has reentered my life after a year of being away. I never realized how much I missed her til I spoke with he for an hour between naps at the hospital. She will be drawn to the City at some point hopefully. I remember little of our conversation and the changes made to the opening number of Lysistrata this morning because the lack of sleep (aside from making my feel like an elephant without hands) it has muddled my memory a bitty poo. I think there was a note change but I’ll have to ask. I listened to nothing but the new nineinchnails song on the way too and froo the rehearsal this morning. I guess I like it now. Fert. Well, I think the stream has dried up. Oh my gooly gosh, I can hear the rats in the wall. They are chewing on things best left unmentioned in polite society. You filthy bastards, YOU are responsible for Thompson’s death. YOU. I put that lame on your fucking heads. May the burden of it shatter your dirty necks. Hilary is also someone I have to maintain contact with. Her show was good. I feel I should do something like it, but I don’t have enough terrible things in my life to warrant an audience. Maybe I could just sit naked in a cage eating cheese balls and Big Macs for an hour. That’s art, isn’t it? I am fucking hope so. A root beer soda is nothing. I made it up but you will never hear me admit it. You picky choosey cockhorse. Eat all the cock you want and may you choke on the resulting spume. Also, Phil is having some trouble dancing. Help him if you canlkn ./
closer still
2.21.05
7:54pm
Do any of you remember Speedy Gonzales? Do you remember his lesser-known compatriot Slow Poke Sanchez or Slow Poke Martinez or some other stereotypical Mexican name? Remember how he spoke, very slowly and in a tired, beaten, pathetic sort of voice? Well, he is here in the security office and he has been here, speaking Spanish in that same fucking retarded, defeated, mournful voice since I fucking got here. Have you ever just felt like you’ve heard too much Spanish for one day? Or am I really the only person in the world who ever feels like that? Whatever. I don’t care if I’m a bigoted asshole or not, I would trade both my testicles for some chloroform right about now.
Speaking of being a bigoted asshole, the lite jazz station (the lesser of most evils) is on and I just heard the “soul” version of Dave Brubeck’s “Take Five”, an essential jazz piece. Look, I know the black community is mad about Rod Fucking Stewart covering “What A Wonderful World”, but seriously, what about those in the middle that are punished by both remakes? “Take Five” isn’t supposed to be “lite jazz” just as “What A Wonderful World” isn’t supposed to be sung by someone who is neither blind nor Afro. I would be willing to kill Rod Stewart and whoever thought it would be a good idea to shit-up “Take Five” in the same bonfire.
What a terrible day. I woke up much earlier than I wanted to around 2pm to hear that Hunter S. Thompson has killed himself. Then, I downloaded the new Nine Inch Nails song that was leaked (good quality, just leaked) and I wasn’t even impressed let alone amazed, same with the first single from the album that was leaked in the form of a very shitty fourth generation mp3. The song went from CD (which was stolen from the video shoot for the song) to radio (three stations played it “without knowing it wasn’t supposed to be played” and are being sued) to tape (some fan) to mp3 (the fan with the tape put a microphone to her speaker and made the mp3) to my computer. Granted, this is the worst quality mp3 I have ever heard and I’m sure there is a lot of nuance that is lost in translation, but what I can hear is in the same vein as the high quality leak of the other song: Meh. Both songs sound just like the shit on the radio today. The lyrics are vague and powerless. Trent Reznor described his new album as “twelve good, hard punches to the face”; I have yet to feel sneezed on. To be honest, I have been preparing myself for let down with the new NIN album for the reasons I detailed in an earlier post. On the upside, the new Beck, eels and They Might Be Giants are all great. The TMBG was released officially the other day and it’s excellent, the new eels was leaked in its final, produced form and that’s amazing and finally the new Beck, which is in prototype form and can only get better. Anyway, I’m not destroyed over the (so far) substandard NIN music.
In case you’re wondering, I am taking obsessively about music (today) because the Hunter S. Thompson thing really sucks and I am initiating my usually defense mechanism by distracting myself. A lot of people know I like the movie based on his book, but really, his quote about Oscar Zeta Acosta really nailed me.
Also, the weather today was Kill Yourself weather. The snow has stopped and the small amount that hit the ground wasn’t enough to keep things white and quite for long, it was just enough to make people’s socks wet.
Pinprick though: I also woke up to a voicemail from Jen who wants to talk about her apartment. Hopefully that will become a flaming beacon once I converse with her and not a soggy match head.
P.S. That fucking slow mouse is still here.
P.P.S. My next DVD purchase will be “Where the Buffalo Roam”. If you don’t know what that is, find out before you talk to me next or I may react violently.
**********************************************************
8:52pm
I just got off the phone with Will and I told him that the only way I will be completely okay with Thompson’s death is if it was caused by something pertaining to “shotgun golf”
**********************************************************
11:02pm
All right, I think I crossed a line. There is this woman in a room here. She only speaks Spanish. She keeps ringing her goddamn bell, I keep telling her that someone is on their way, she keeps ringing her goddamn bell, I tell her to goddamn be patient, she keeps ringing her goddamn bell, I lose it. I opened the channel to her room, put my mouth right up to the mic and whisper “Stop…ringing…the…bell.” Then I started gurgling and hissing into the mic, then I put her on mute. So far, no repercussions, but I’ll keep you updated.
11:06pm
She just stopped ringing her bell. It’s going to be a good night.
***********************************************************
3:09am
Just went on break and burned the two new NIN songs onto a disc. I’ve been here listening to them a while and the second song “The Line Begins To Blur” is starting to grow on me. Took about 12 hours or so, but I’m beginning to enjoy the nuances. I’m still undecided about the first one (The Hand That Feeds) but that one might be too. I’ll be able to discuss it with myself once I hear a better version. I don’t know if it’s my eagerness to want to like the new NIN or if it’s really growing on me. It’s interesting the way people won’t like songs on an album or an entire album at first, and then get into it/them after a time of exposure. For me, a lot of my favorite albums were like that. Sea Change was only four or five tracks for me at first, eventually, the whole thing, same with Midnite Vultures, even Downward Spiral and The Fragile. In the case of They Might Be Giants, if I don’t like one of their songs, I usually don’t grow into it, same with some others. I wonder why that is. Maybe NIN and Beck just put more into their music, sonically at least, that you have to discover. That’s always a good sign but I can also see how that can make one a music snob. If something isn’t as layered as stuff they’re used to, I can see someone dismissing it as “boring”. Speaking of that, Beck said in that Norwegian interview that after he is done touring with Guero, he plans to work on an album that is just guitar and vocals. I guess we’ll see how funky he can be…
7:54pm
Do any of you remember Speedy Gonzales? Do you remember his lesser-known compatriot Slow Poke Sanchez or Slow Poke Martinez or some other stereotypical Mexican name? Remember how he spoke, very slowly and in a tired, beaten, pathetic sort of voice? Well, he is here in the security office and he has been here, speaking Spanish in that same fucking retarded, defeated, mournful voice since I fucking got here. Have you ever just felt like you’ve heard too much Spanish for one day? Or am I really the only person in the world who ever feels like that? Whatever. I don’t care if I’m a bigoted asshole or not, I would trade both my testicles for some chloroform right about now.
Speaking of being a bigoted asshole, the lite jazz station (the lesser of most evils) is on and I just heard the “soul” version of Dave Brubeck’s “Take Five”, an essential jazz piece. Look, I know the black community is mad about Rod Fucking Stewart covering “What A Wonderful World”, but seriously, what about those in the middle that are punished by both remakes? “Take Five” isn’t supposed to be “lite jazz” just as “What A Wonderful World” isn’t supposed to be sung by someone who is neither blind nor Afro. I would be willing to kill Rod Stewart and whoever thought it would be a good idea to shit-up “Take Five” in the same bonfire.
What a terrible day. I woke up much earlier than I wanted to around 2pm to hear that Hunter S. Thompson has killed himself. Then, I downloaded the new Nine Inch Nails song that was leaked (good quality, just leaked) and I wasn’t even impressed let alone amazed, same with the first single from the album that was leaked in the form of a very shitty fourth generation mp3. The song went from CD (which was stolen from the video shoot for the song) to radio (three stations played it “without knowing it wasn’t supposed to be played” and are being sued) to tape (some fan) to mp3 (the fan with the tape put a microphone to her speaker and made the mp3) to my computer. Granted, this is the worst quality mp3 I have ever heard and I’m sure there is a lot of nuance that is lost in translation, but what I can hear is in the same vein as the high quality leak of the other song: Meh. Both songs sound just like the shit on the radio today. The lyrics are vague and powerless. Trent Reznor described his new album as “twelve good, hard punches to the face”; I have yet to feel sneezed on. To be honest, I have been preparing myself for let down with the new NIN album for the reasons I detailed in an earlier post. On the upside, the new Beck, eels and They Might Be Giants are all great. The TMBG was released officially the other day and it’s excellent, the new eels was leaked in its final, produced form and that’s amazing and finally the new Beck, which is in prototype form and can only get better. Anyway, I’m not destroyed over the (so far) substandard NIN music.
In case you’re wondering, I am taking obsessively about music (today) because the Hunter S. Thompson thing really sucks and I am initiating my usually defense mechanism by distracting myself. A lot of people know I like the movie based on his book, but really, his quote about Oscar Zeta Acosta really nailed me.
Also, the weather today was Kill Yourself weather. The snow has stopped and the small amount that hit the ground wasn’t enough to keep things white and quite for long, it was just enough to make people’s socks wet.
Pinprick though: I also woke up to a voicemail from Jen who wants to talk about her apartment. Hopefully that will become a flaming beacon once I converse with her and not a soggy match head.
P.S. That fucking slow mouse is still here.
P.P.S. My next DVD purchase will be “Where the Buffalo Roam”. If you don’t know what that is, find out before you talk to me next or I may react violently.
**********************************************************
8:52pm
I just got off the phone with Will and I told him that the only way I will be completely okay with Thompson’s death is if it was caused by something pertaining to “shotgun golf”
**********************************************************
11:02pm
All right, I think I crossed a line. There is this woman in a room here. She only speaks Spanish. She keeps ringing her goddamn bell, I keep telling her that someone is on their way, she keeps ringing her goddamn bell, I tell her to goddamn be patient, she keeps ringing her goddamn bell, I lose it. I opened the channel to her room, put my mouth right up to the mic and whisper “Stop…ringing…the…bell.” Then I started gurgling and hissing into the mic, then I put her on mute. So far, no repercussions, but I’ll keep you updated.
11:06pm
She just stopped ringing her bell. It’s going to be a good night.
***********************************************************
3:09am
Just went on break and burned the two new NIN songs onto a disc. I’ve been here listening to them a while and the second song “The Line Begins To Blur” is starting to grow on me. Took about 12 hours or so, but I’m beginning to enjoy the nuances. I’m still undecided about the first one (The Hand That Feeds) but that one might be too. I’ll be able to discuss it with myself once I hear a better version. I don’t know if it’s my eagerness to want to like the new NIN or if it’s really growing on me. It’s interesting the way people won’t like songs on an album or an entire album at first, and then get into it/them after a time of exposure. For me, a lot of my favorite albums were like that. Sea Change was only four or five tracks for me at first, eventually, the whole thing, same with Midnite Vultures, even Downward Spiral and The Fragile. In the case of They Might Be Giants, if I don’t like one of their songs, I usually don’t grow into it, same with some others. I wonder why that is. Maybe NIN and Beck just put more into their music, sonically at least, that you have to discover. That’s always a good sign but I can also see how that can make one a music snob. If something isn’t as layered as stuff they’re used to, I can see someone dismissing it as “boring”. Speaking of that, Beck said in that Norwegian interview that after he is done touring with Guero, he plans to work on an album that is just guitar and vocals. I guess we’ll see how funky he can be…
2.21.2005
CNN) -- Journalist and author Hunter S. Thompson, who unleashed the concept of "gonzo journalism" in books like "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas," fatally shot himself in the head Sunday at his home near Aspen, Colorado, police and his family said.
"On February 20, Dr. Hunter S. Thompson took his life with a gunshot to the head at his fortified compound in Woody Creek, Colorado," said a statement issued by Thompson's son, Juan Thompson, to the Aspen Daily News.
"The family will shortly provide more information about memorial service and media contacts. Hunter prized his privacy, and we ask that his friends and admirers respect that privacy as well as that of his family."
A dispatcher for the Pitkin County Sheriff's Department confirmed Thompson's death.
Neither the family statement nor Pitkin County sheriff's officials said whether Thompson left a note, The Associated Press reported.
Thompson, 67, was associated with the "New Journalism" movement of the 1960s, in which writers -- most notably Tom Wolfe and Gay Talese -- took a more novelistic and personal approach to their subjects.
Thompson, who freely dropped cynical opinions and references to his drug and alcohol use into his stories, termed his style "gonzo journalism."
His account of a drug-fueled trip to cover a district attorneys' anti-drug conference as a writer for Rolling Stone magazine was the seed of "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas," perhaps his best-known work.
Subtitled "A Savage Journey to the Heart of the American Dream," the 1971 book included his lament on the passing of the 1960s and its "sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil."
"There was no point in fighting -- on our side or theirs," he wrote. "We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark -- the place where the wave finally broke and rolled back."
In "Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail '72," he described the campaign leading to Richard Nixon's re-election as president with terms like "brutal" and "depraved"; puckishly speculated that Democratic Sen. Ed Muskie -- the early front-runner, whose poor showing in the New Hampshire primary doomed his candidacy -- was under the influence of a psychoactive drug, Ibogaine; routinely mocked candidate and senator Hubert H. Humphrey ("the Hump"); and bemoaned Nixon's looming victory by proclaiming, "Jesus, where will it end? How low do you have to stoop in this country to become president?"
CNN national correspondent Bruce Morton -- who covered the '72 campaign for CBS -- remembered Thompson as a bigger-than-life presence who wrote "good stuff."
"He'd perked the campaign plane or the campaign bus up a whole lot, he'd come out and say, had hey, weird stuff's going to happen, Hunter is here," Morton said on CNN's "American Morning." "He was also, it's fair to say, a very good writer. You read his stuff in Rolling Stone magazine, and maybe it wasn't what you've seen and maybe it wasn't what had happened, but by golly, it was good stuff and it was fun."
Morton also recalled the last time he heard from Thompson -- more than 30 years ago.
"The campaign was over, I think early 1973, and I got a phone call, saying the CIA has me, can you lend me 20 bucks," Morton said. "I said 20 bucks is no problem, but I don't think they'll let me in at Langley [Virginia, CIA headquarters].
"You just never knew with him. He was a free spirit and a gifted one."
Taking risks
There is no way to grasp what a shallow, contemptible and hopelessly dishonest old hack Hubert Humphrey is until you've followed him around for a while.
-- Hunter S. Thompson, from 'Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail '72'
Thompson's other works included "The Great Shark Hunt," a collection of Watergate-era essays; "Generation of Swine," his lament on the youth of the 1980s; and his account of Bill Clinton's 1992 presidential win, "Better than Sex."
His lone novel, "The Rum Diaries," was written in 1959 and published in 1998, while a collection of letters, "The Proud Highway: The Saga of a Desperate Southern Gentleman," came out in 1997.
Hunter Stockton Thompson was born July 18, 1937, in Louisville, Kentucky. He served in the Air Force and was a newspaper sports editor. In 1966, he published "Hell's Angels," a fairly straightforward chronicle about the motorcycle gang, which Thompson had followed around for a year.
In 1970, he ran for sheriff of Pitkin County, Colorado, on a Freak Power Party platform of decriminalizing drugs. He lost in a tight race.
The peak of his fame came in the 1970s, when he contributed stories to a number of magazines.
His most notable client was Rolling Stone, where the dispatches that became "Campaign Trail" originally appeared. His battles with Rolling Stone founder Jann S. Wenner were legendary; his stories occasionally arrived on odd media, such as rolls of teletype paper, and Thompson's expense accounts were often challenged by the magazine. (Examples of Thompson's Rolling Stone work have been on display at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum in Cleveland, Ohio.)
"He may have died relatively young but he made up for it in quality if not quantity of years," Paul Krassner, the veteran radical journalist and one of Thompson's former editors, told The Associated Press by phone from his Southern California home.
"It was hard to say sometimes whether he was being provocative for its own sake or if he was just being drunk and stoned and irresponsible," quipped Krassner, founder of the leftist publication The Realist and co-founder of the Youth International (YIPPIE) party.
"But every editor that I know, myself included, was willing to accept a certain prima donna journalism in the demands he would make to cover a particular story," he said. "They were willing to risk all of his irresponsible behavior in order to share his talent with their readers."
'Shock and dismay'
America's answer to the monstrous Mr. Hyde. He speaks for the werewolf in us.
-- Hunter S. Thompson on Richard M. Nixon
In recent years, Thompson wrote a column for the sports network ESPN's Web site. In his most recent piece, posted February 15, he describes shooting at golf balls like skeet with a friend near his longtime home -- he called it "a fortified compound" -- outside Aspen.
"The general reaction here is shock and dismay, because he was such a figure in town," Aspen resident John Hoag told CNN.
Still, Hoag said, Thompson remained a private person. "The most news we heard from him was when a pack of dogs killed his peacock, Attila, and he broke his leg in Hawaii last year."
Thompson also was the model for the character of "Uncle Duke" in the "Doonesbury" comic strip. But Thompson strongly disliked the characterization, once telling an interviewer that he would set "Doonesbury" creator Garry Trudeau on fire if the two ever met.
In later years, however, Thompson said he had made peace with the "Uncle Duke" portrayal.
"I got used to it a long time ago," he told Freezerbox magazine in 2003. "I used to be a little perturbed by it. It was a lot more personal ... It no longer bothers me."
In 1980, actor Bill Murray portrayed Thompson in the film "Where the Buffalo Roam." And in 1998, the film "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" was released, based on Thompson's book and starring Johnny Depp as the journalist. A new film reportedly is in production based on Thompson's novel "The Rum Diaries."
The writer himself, Hoag said, will be missed. "There's no one in the world these days who writes the truth ... as he seems to, to me," he said. "He spoke to the world and said what people were afraid to say."
"On February 20, Dr. Hunter S. Thompson took his life with a gunshot to the head at his fortified compound in Woody Creek, Colorado," said a statement issued by Thompson's son, Juan Thompson, to the Aspen Daily News.
"The family will shortly provide more information about memorial service and media contacts. Hunter prized his privacy, and we ask that his friends and admirers respect that privacy as well as that of his family."
A dispatcher for the Pitkin County Sheriff's Department confirmed Thompson's death.
Neither the family statement nor Pitkin County sheriff's officials said whether Thompson left a note, The Associated Press reported.
Thompson, 67, was associated with the "New Journalism" movement of the 1960s, in which writers -- most notably Tom Wolfe and Gay Talese -- took a more novelistic and personal approach to their subjects.
Thompson, who freely dropped cynical opinions and references to his drug and alcohol use into his stories, termed his style "gonzo journalism."
His account of a drug-fueled trip to cover a district attorneys' anti-drug conference as a writer for Rolling Stone magazine was the seed of "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas," perhaps his best-known work.
Subtitled "A Savage Journey to the Heart of the American Dream," the 1971 book included his lament on the passing of the 1960s and its "sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil."
"There was no point in fighting -- on our side or theirs," he wrote. "We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark -- the place where the wave finally broke and rolled back."
In "Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail '72," he described the campaign leading to Richard Nixon's re-election as president with terms like "brutal" and "depraved"; puckishly speculated that Democratic Sen. Ed Muskie -- the early front-runner, whose poor showing in the New Hampshire primary doomed his candidacy -- was under the influence of a psychoactive drug, Ibogaine; routinely mocked candidate and senator Hubert H. Humphrey ("the Hump"); and bemoaned Nixon's looming victory by proclaiming, "Jesus, where will it end? How low do you have to stoop in this country to become president?"
CNN national correspondent Bruce Morton -- who covered the '72 campaign for CBS -- remembered Thompson as a bigger-than-life presence who wrote "good stuff."
"He'd perked the campaign plane or the campaign bus up a whole lot, he'd come out and say, had hey, weird stuff's going to happen, Hunter is here," Morton said on CNN's "American Morning." "He was also, it's fair to say, a very good writer. You read his stuff in Rolling Stone magazine, and maybe it wasn't what you've seen and maybe it wasn't what had happened, but by golly, it was good stuff and it was fun."
Morton also recalled the last time he heard from Thompson -- more than 30 years ago.
"The campaign was over, I think early 1973, and I got a phone call, saying the CIA has me, can you lend me 20 bucks," Morton said. "I said 20 bucks is no problem, but I don't think they'll let me in at Langley [Virginia, CIA headquarters].
"You just never knew with him. He was a free spirit and a gifted one."
Taking risks
There is no way to grasp what a shallow, contemptible and hopelessly dishonest old hack Hubert Humphrey is until you've followed him around for a while.
-- Hunter S. Thompson, from 'Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail '72'
Thompson's other works included "The Great Shark Hunt," a collection of Watergate-era essays; "Generation of Swine," his lament on the youth of the 1980s; and his account of Bill Clinton's 1992 presidential win, "Better than Sex."
His lone novel, "The Rum Diaries," was written in 1959 and published in 1998, while a collection of letters, "The Proud Highway: The Saga of a Desperate Southern Gentleman," came out in 1997.
Hunter Stockton Thompson was born July 18, 1937, in Louisville, Kentucky. He served in the Air Force and was a newspaper sports editor. In 1966, he published "Hell's Angels," a fairly straightforward chronicle about the motorcycle gang, which Thompson had followed around for a year.
In 1970, he ran for sheriff of Pitkin County, Colorado, on a Freak Power Party platform of decriminalizing drugs. He lost in a tight race.
The peak of his fame came in the 1970s, when he contributed stories to a number of magazines.
His most notable client was Rolling Stone, where the dispatches that became "Campaign Trail" originally appeared. His battles with Rolling Stone founder Jann S. Wenner were legendary; his stories occasionally arrived on odd media, such as rolls of teletype paper, and Thompson's expense accounts were often challenged by the magazine. (Examples of Thompson's Rolling Stone work have been on display at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum in Cleveland, Ohio.)
"He may have died relatively young but he made up for it in quality if not quantity of years," Paul Krassner, the veteran radical journalist and one of Thompson's former editors, told The Associated Press by phone from his Southern California home.
"It was hard to say sometimes whether he was being provocative for its own sake or if he was just being drunk and stoned and irresponsible," quipped Krassner, founder of the leftist publication The Realist and co-founder of the Youth International (YIPPIE) party.
"But every editor that I know, myself included, was willing to accept a certain prima donna journalism in the demands he would make to cover a particular story," he said. "They were willing to risk all of his irresponsible behavior in order to share his talent with their readers."
'Shock and dismay'
America's answer to the monstrous Mr. Hyde. He speaks for the werewolf in us.
-- Hunter S. Thompson on Richard M. Nixon
In recent years, Thompson wrote a column for the sports network ESPN's Web site. In his most recent piece, posted February 15, he describes shooting at golf balls like skeet with a friend near his longtime home -- he called it "a fortified compound" -- outside Aspen.
"The general reaction here is shock and dismay, because he was such a figure in town," Aspen resident John Hoag told CNN.
Still, Hoag said, Thompson remained a private person. "The most news we heard from him was when a pack of dogs killed his peacock, Attila, and he broke his leg in Hawaii last year."
Thompson also was the model for the character of "Uncle Duke" in the "Doonesbury" comic strip. But Thompson strongly disliked the characterization, once telling an interviewer that he would set "Doonesbury" creator Garry Trudeau on fire if the two ever met.
In later years, however, Thompson said he had made peace with the "Uncle Duke" portrayal.
"I got used to it a long time ago," he told Freezerbox magazine in 2003. "I used to be a little perturbed by it. It was a lot more personal ... It no longer bothers me."
In 1980, actor Bill Murray portrayed Thompson in the film "Where the Buffalo Roam." And in 1998, the film "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" was released, based on Thompson's book and starring Johnny Depp as the journalist. A new film reportedly is in production based on Thompson's novel "The Rum Diaries."
The writer himself, Hoag said, will be missed. "There's no one in the world these days who writes the truth ... as he seems to, to me," he said. "He spoke to the world and said what people were afraid to say."
2.20.2005
Yang.
2.19.05
10:48 pm
So when a button starts blinking on my panel, I ask the resident if they need assistance. Then, no matter what they say (unless it is very specific) I reply, “Someone’s on their way.” Then I announce to the speaker at the Nurse’s Station that assistance is needed in room whatever. Sometimes a resident will ring twice in an hour or even twice in ten minutes. These residents can need anything from immediate medical attention to a glass of water to a fresh diaper. Anyway, someone might need more than one thing in a small period of time, especially if they are old and confused or senile etc. This one room has been blinking for a while. I answer the call then tell the nurse’s station to go to said room. Same thing happens five minutes later. Same thing seven minutes later. Finally, I call the nurse’s station and ask them to send someone in. They responded: “Oh, her? We were just in there.” I say: “Yes. That’s what you get paid for. Now send someone in there.” And I hung up.
The mentality of almost every one of these fucking unintelligible, lazy cocksuckers is that of an assassin; one shot, bang, it’s over, never have to deal with this person again, when they should instead deal with their position that of a baby sitter. I mean, you don’t fucking go, check on the baby and then take a nap, you are constantly paying attention to it so it doesn’t swallow poison or creepy old men. I hate these morons working here. And before you snicker. I am NOT a moron, I am just very lazy…almost dangerously so, but I am not stupid nor am I without compassion. These bastards would happily leave an old women soaking in a bog of her own feces as long as they didn’t get caught. I’d love to be able to leave my post and g up to these non-responding floors and bitch at these assholes. Anyway, I’m going to go back to watching DVD’s. Although you’ll be happy to know the mute button is OFF and I am attending to each and every call I am getting within 30 seconds. I don’t know if it’s my conscience or the look of horror in Hilary’s artic blue eyes today at lunch, but if I were in this position, and after my eye surgeries I was sort of, all I could do was drink water and piss and I have no idea how much time passed between each trip from the bathroom to the bed to the water pitcher to the bed to the bathroom etc. All I know is that I hated being helped and would only call when I needed it, but when I needed it, like I said, I needed it. Some of the people here like to just get attention and will buzz just because. They enjoy being waited on. Either way, I have no idea if these people need help or just want help so, remembering where I was for most of 9th grade, I will try t stop muting the residents here.
But I still plan on hanging up on assholes. That’s my prerogative.
10:48 pm
So when a button starts blinking on my panel, I ask the resident if they need assistance. Then, no matter what they say (unless it is very specific) I reply, “Someone’s on their way.” Then I announce to the speaker at the Nurse’s Station that assistance is needed in room whatever. Sometimes a resident will ring twice in an hour or even twice in ten minutes. These residents can need anything from immediate medical attention to a glass of water to a fresh diaper. Anyway, someone might need more than one thing in a small period of time, especially if they are old and confused or senile etc. This one room has been blinking for a while. I answer the call then tell the nurse’s station to go to said room. Same thing happens five minutes later. Same thing seven minutes later. Finally, I call the nurse’s station and ask them to send someone in. They responded: “Oh, her? We were just in there.” I say: “Yes. That’s what you get paid for. Now send someone in there.” And I hung up.
The mentality of almost every one of these fucking unintelligible, lazy cocksuckers is that of an assassin; one shot, bang, it’s over, never have to deal with this person again, when they should instead deal with their position that of a baby sitter. I mean, you don’t fucking go, check on the baby and then take a nap, you are constantly paying attention to it so it doesn’t swallow poison or creepy old men. I hate these morons working here. And before you snicker. I am NOT a moron, I am just very lazy…almost dangerously so, but I am not stupid nor am I without compassion. These bastards would happily leave an old women soaking in a bog of her own feces as long as they didn’t get caught. I’d love to be able to leave my post and g up to these non-responding floors and bitch at these assholes. Anyway, I’m going to go back to watching DVD’s. Although you’ll be happy to know the mute button is OFF and I am attending to each and every call I am getting within 30 seconds. I don’t know if it’s my conscience or the look of horror in Hilary’s artic blue eyes today at lunch, but if I were in this position, and after my eye surgeries I was sort of, all I could do was drink water and piss and I have no idea how much time passed between each trip from the bathroom to the bed to the water pitcher to the bed to the bathroom etc. All I know is that I hated being helped and would only call when I needed it, but when I needed it, like I said, I needed it. Some of the people here like to just get attention and will buzz just because. They enjoy being waited on. Either way, I have no idea if these people need help or just want help so, remembering where I was for most of 9th grade, I will try t stop muting the residents here.
But I still plan on hanging up on assholes. That’s my prerogative.
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