Discount Degas

I sat in on a web seminar (a "webinar" for those of you down with the system) the other day. It was about team building, and honestly it was just something I needed to be able to say I did when it came time to talk about such things with my new boss. It was an hour of pain. The woman leading the course was out of Jersey and talked in anecdotes and illustrations in a practiced way that let me know she was on autopilot.

Overly chipper, she was the kind of girl who constantly reminds the people around her that she's "crazy" in a way that only the truly boring have mastered. Margaret Thatcher once said something like "Being powerful is like being a lady: If you have to say you are, you aren't." It's the same for people who try to cultivate eccentricity. If you're working hard at it, you're just not that weird.

Anyway, the entire presentation derailed the moment she dropped William Golding's name. In the midst of a Q&A about "difficult" work situations, the presenter is suddenly talking about Lord of the Flies.

"This is a book wasted on children. It's not until you're an adult that you can really see how it is the best book ever written about leadership and the mechanics of a team. It's the perfect team building novel."

The snob in me refuses to accept the reference. Here's this amazing piece of high school required reading that is a blueprint for human nature and the creepy corners of our souls, and yet what she walks away with is how the story can be turned into an illustration of getting along with difficult coworkers.

It's like a Matisse print in the conference room. It's hearing "I've Been Loving You Too Long" at a Monster Truck Rally. It's opening a Faberge egg to uncover a peanut crusted turd. It's...Well, you get the idea.

Keep art away from Corporate America. Sneak it in, keep it hidden for yourself, but don't let them see it and don't let them appropriate for their own use. I'm just sayin' is all.

Bad Music for Bad People

I'm starting to get to that age where the artists I'm a fan of are starting to drift into the ether. For the most part, they are leaving "before their time", but it's begun. This year we've lost Ron Asheton (of Stooges fame) and I just read that Lux Interior passed away. I was never a huge fan, but anyone who grew up listening to hardcore or punk has brushed up against The Cramps from time to time, and there's something sad about his passing. An Ohio boy who loved horror, metal, and laughter...how can you not have a soft spot in your heart for that?

So, raise your glass. A true original has left us.


Wherever you are I hope the beer is cold and the g-strings are comfortable.






---

I spent a bit too much time reading Heiruspecs stuff online today while at work. Most of it took place during my lunch, so I won't feel too bad about it. I learned a few things today that I didn't know about the band, and saw some cool interviews. The funniest thing that I hadn't realized before is that they were on the soundtrack for Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle. I have this idea in my head that anyone who would reach that level of success would be rolling around in a bathtub full of money, and not actually be someone I know and have worked with. It's funny the picture you get in your head of what success is and how often it isn't synced with reality.

Felix, if you're reading this, know that I can't wait to get my package in the mail. I expect to post a full (honest) review of the album once I get to listen to it for a few weeks. Hope ya'll grace our state with a visit soon. If you want a place to stay, I've got a spot for you. And if you can vouch for the ruffians who comprise the rest of the outfit, our door is open to them as well. It's not fancy, but it's yours. Your couches and air mattresses await.
---

To wrap up this music based post, Jen and I have tickets to a couple of great shows coming up. First is Ben Folds towards the end of this month.

I saw Ben back on the Whatever and Ever Amen tour, and while it was a great show, the mix was a bit off. The bass was really heavy and tended to drown out the rest of the band. The new album isn't my favorite, but I can't wait to see him again as he always seems to put on a good show. There's just something about the guy that I can't help but love.

Next month I have tickets to see The Whigs. We saw them play last year at a CD101 show with Von Iva, The Duke Spirit, and The Whiles. They were the highlight for me, and I'm really excited to see them play a set on their own in a small setting. They're a three piece who sound much bigger than you'd expect.

There is a part of me that is just hungry for straight forward rock music. The Whigs go light on the frills and put on a straight forward loud show.

Should be a good time. Can not wait.

Computer Disasters, Vinyl Love & New Year's Eve

Let's be honest, I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. I have what I think of as a small computer virus issue one day, and then the next I can't log into my computer at all. I just get this black screen and can't even see my desktop.

So, I figure, let's just get a new hard drive. I've swapped those out before, so it shouldn't be too hard. So, I upgrade to a bigger hard drive, and come home to find out that the bigger drive uses a bigger cable to connect to my motherboard, but my motherboard doesn't have any more room to accommodate the expansion. So, now I have to go back to the store to get a smaller hard drive. I'm sure that I'll bring it home, hook it up and it still won't work, but whatever. At that point I'll have all the ammunition I need to talk Jen into a small ultra-cheap laptop. We don't need anything fancy...just something I can write on, surf the web, and run iTunes through. All of my music is on an external drive, so I don't even need much memory. One of these days I'll break down and get the iBook I really want, but not during these bleak economic times.

Tonight we make our annual New Year's Eve pilgrimage to my brother's house. We'll load up the car with my over sized bottle of Jack Daniels, Jen's amaretto, our meat and cheese tray, our two other appetizers and spend the night hanging out with family. It's always a pretty decent time, if not rather sedate. Nothing gets out of hand, and everyone is friendly (they are family after all).

I don't want to beat this to death, but I have to mention my new turntable again. I love music. Love it. It's very important to me, and I can be a little obnoxious about it. In recent years though I've gotten pretty distracted by lots of other things. Life happens and rolls along whether you are paying attention or not, and during all of this music became something that was there in the background. Not that my interest in it diminished, it just changed. It was on while I surfed the web, or played games, or did dishes, or drove to work.

Now though, having the turntable slowed that down. I set up a system in my den (a spare bedroom that I've taken over with all my silly crap...I should post pictures one day). I have a padded rocking chair that I drag back and forth across the room from my Super Nintendo (Zelda still rules) and my new "listening station".

Already I'm obsessive with vinyl collecting. A friend and I once discussed just collecting our top 25 albums and then stopping, but even then I knew that wouldn't happen. Jen bought be a great little cabinet for storage and to set my turntable on, and now I want to fill it immediately. Don't worry, it's expandable...she knows me well.

The night before last we hit up Magnolia Thunderpussy and I picked up a four disc re-release of Sonic Youth's Goo and a Fugazi single for "Furniture". When we got home I couldn't wait to settle in and listen. I wound up getting distracted by The Velvet Underground and Nico (something I had picked up the week before and had not listened to yet) so I put that on first. Then, I listened to the old Fugazi single. There's something so warm and immediate about the sound of vinyl, and I love that, but not being an audiophile it's just a bonus. The really great thing was sitting down in a darkened room and just listening.

It reminded me of sitting around on cigarette burned carpet in Houston, listening to Big Star. It reminded me playing bass along with Pearl Jam in my dorm room. It reminded me of waiting for over an hour in a grocery store parking lot waiting to hear Radiohead's "Creep" be played by an Indianapolis station and being blown away, even through the occasional static. It reminded me of listening to Nirvana play their version of The Meat Puppet's "Oh Me" over and over again, just to hear the guitar outtro.

So that's my suggestion for both of you still reading this damned thing. Grab your iPod, or turn up your surround sound and turn everything else off. Close your eyes and remember what made you fall in love in the first place.

Happy New Year, ya'll.

Randomness Abounds

When I was a little kid, I didn't have much in the way of a tough male role model. As a result, I was convinced that my uncle Curt was the baddest man alive. He had a habit of chewing on the corner of his lower lip, a habit I immediately equated with toughness. One morning, I was on the bus on my way to school and there was an older kid who was staring at me. I didn't like it, so I started chewing on the corner of my bottom lip, showing him I was a bad man and not to be messed with. The kid started laughing at me, and then sucked in half of his lower lip and gnawed on it with yellowed fence post teeth. I remember being shocked that someone would use my own "I'm tough" signals back at me in a mocking manner. I immediately decided that posturing wasn't my thing.

- - - - - - - -

The last couple of days I've started going for a walk on my lunch. Yesterday, I froze without a hat and gloves, so today I came better prepared. I go across the street to a park and walk around a gravel nature trail towards the back of the property. It's a great way to spend an hour. The deer, undersized from the crowded conditions, are used to people and run more out of habit than from actual fear. The squirrels are fat and sleek, looking freshly oiled and seem to be everywhere. They say there's a good fox population, but I've never seen proof of that, and I guess I don't expect to. There's still some snow around, though there seems to be less of it today than there was yesterday. It's limited now to the fallen limbs and trees and along the piles of leaves, but has melted in the places where it had fallen on the actual ground.

- - - - - - - - -

Jen got an automated call from her doctor telling her she had a message in her secure voice mail. She called up and listened to a voice mail that told her she was cancer free. The margins of the mass they removed were nice and clean, and she now has less than a week before the stitches come out.

- - - - - - - - -

We've been doing some things around the house getting ready for Jen's mother's Thanksgiving visit, and our decorating is finally starting to get weird enough to make me happy. First, I got Kim Jong iLL hung up along the stairway half wall on the second floor landing. They're lower than I had planned on, and not immediately visible when you go upstairs, but they looked so great there that they had to stay. We also got some other prints up including a great shot of Madonna (Jen is a huge fan of early Madonna) completely nude (Stephen is a huge fan of early or late nudity) while hitchhiking. I know what you're thinking because I've already heard it before: "I wouldn't hang that crap in my house". That, dear friend, is why you don't live here. It makes me smile every time I see it. We also got some family photos framed and hung, so our house, after 6 years, is finallly starting to look a little homey. Well, our version of homey anyway.

Other Voices, Other Rooms

I can't believe I actually got to sleep in on both days of this weekend. That's practically unheard of these days, so it was big news to be in bed past 8:00. In addition to all the sleeping, we managed to do a few things too.

A year or two ago, Jen and I were sitting around drinking beers with her mom and going through old pictures. In the pile was a shot of Jen when she was about three years old. She is standing behind a car that sits with its door open still. Her hair is a tangled and blowing in the wind and she has on this little jean jacket thing that just cracks me up when I look at it. Her face is what's perfect though. It's not the cheesy good natured smile of a kid who loves to have her picture taken, but rather this solemn insecurity that comes through. It's heartbreakingly beautiful and I had it blown up, and printed in black and white to put on the wall downstairs.

Jen felt a bit odd having a pic of her on the wall by itself, so yesterday I went through some Merryman family photos and found one of me. It's a close up of me around the same age as Jen, and I have my goofy smile on. On the plus side, it's a sincere smile not the forced "I'm having my picture taken" variety. Tonight, I got both shots framed and will get them hung tomorrow. I was going to do it tonight, but didn't have the right wall anchors. We'll fix that tomorrow.

Today, we went to see the Andy Warhol exhibit
that's here in town. Columbus is actually the only US stop for Andy Warhol: Other Voices, Other Rooms, and we felt fortunate to have the chance to see it. Click on the link if you'd like the full breakdown of what was displayed, but the short list is an amazing collection of his print work, photographs, and a massive amount of film displayed on dozens of screens. While I like some of his work, I never claimed to be a massive follower, but it really was amazing to see the sheer volume of the man's output.

Jen and I roamed the halls of the Wexner Center, checking out old 16mm film of a man inserting a paintbrush into his rectum and then paint a portrait of Andy while Andy looked on, snapping the occasional photograph. We played in the area they had set aside for a miniature "Clouds" display. (The clouds in question being large foil pillows filled with a light helium mixture floating around one corner of the gallery.) I stood with rapt attention at every mention or performance by The Velvet Underground. We read excerpts of Truman Capote's Marilyn Monroe interview for Andy's magazine. We sat mesmerized by some of the screen tests that he shot as the subject would go from campy, to bored, to finally being upset that the process wasn't over.

Whatever your feelings about Campbell's Soup Cans, Multiple Marilyns, or Pop Art in general, it was a great way to spend the afternoon and it was good to just get out and spend some time looking at art again. We haven't done that for awhile, and just being out and about wakes you up a bit and gets you thinking. Some of it we loved, some of it we were indifferent to, but we were happy just roaming around. Plus, did I mention that a guy had a paint brush in his ass? How awesome is that? The only way that could be better is if he were a caricature artist at Cedar Pointe. "Oh, OK. You like horses? How bout if I draw you sitting on a horse? Great! Here, let me just bend over..."

---

After absorbing all things Andy we headed over to Panera for a late lunch. After rounding up half a sandwich and a bowl of soup each, we found a table near the fireplace and settled in. I was watching a guy who was sitting outside drinking from a Panera branded cup and smoking a cigarette like there was no tomorrow. He would take a hit, exhale in this lazy way where he would just open his mouth in an "O" and the smoke would just pour out of his lungs, and then immediately take another hit. There were no quick breaths of pure air in between, just this crazy sucking followed by letting his mouth hang open to let the flood of smoke rise up and sting his eyes. I was enthralled. When he lit another cigarette immediately, I thought it odd but remember thinking "Whatever it takes to get through it, buddy".

When he took three drags and then threw the butt on the ground ten feet to his right, lit a new cigarette, then walked over picked up the one he threw to the ground to take one more hit before putting it in the ashtray and then turn his attention to the new cigarette, I started giving Jen, who had her back to the entertainment, the play by play.

After a few minutes of me explaining that the guy was taking three or four quick drags and then throwing the still lit cigarettes on the ground, lighting a new one, and then going back for the grounded butts, she picked up her chair and came around to my side of the table. To the others in the restaurant we might have looked like thirtysomethings in love, but we were just both enthralled by this strange bit of madness in the middle of Upper Arlington.

He waved at kids, he smoked, he littered, he smoked his litter, he took sips of water from his cup with shaking hands, he smoked, he coughed, and then he did it all again. Sadly, just like my bowl of Chicken Noodle Soup, the craziness came to an end. Before I could get into my shortbread cookie, he had rounded the corner. We left shortly after and kept an eye out for him as we drove out of the neighborhood, but he was not to be seen.

And that's that. We came home and watched "True Blood" and I'm about to wrap up the night with a graphic novel by Joe Hill. Jen's been in bed for over an hour already and should be out cold. I probably won't be much further behind her.

Living Daylife

People are funny. It seems like there are thousands of artists, rappers, musicians, and writers wandering through cubicle farms trying to keep their heads on straight so they can go home and do what they love to do. I love that.

I love that the same people who occasionally get sucked into conversations about who is banging who will go home, roll up their sleeves and turn a white canvas into something that breathes. I love that the same girl who finds herself looking forward to lunch at 9:30 in the morning will sweat on a small stage until midnight screaming what few basic truths she has discovered to a crowd of 14 people getting drunk at the bar. I love that the same guy who wore two different colored socks in the morning will go home and work on his handmade jewelry line.

God, we're all so boring and amazing.

For so many of us the people we are during the day are completely different than the ones we are at night. I normally find that interesting, but tonight I think it's just a little sad that we all can't be what we want all the time.

Of course, it's easy to have these thoughts when the company I work for is in its final weeks. The end of a position has the tendency to make me wonder just why it is that no one has decided to pay be a shit-ton of cash for writing sporadic blog entries and eating burritos. I don't do much, but what I do I do well. Someday someone will pay be to eat burritos and they won't be disappointed by my dedication.

Lazyman, New Heiruspecs & Voting

It's funny. After a couple weeks of not riding my bike due to bad weather, family in the hospital, and general laziness, I'm back in action. I feel like an old man though. My legs are tired. This morning I found myself wondering if I had brakes rubbing or something that would be slowing me down. No...it's just hard to pedal these days. That's what I get for not riding though. I'll ride to work the majority of this week and I should be back on point by the weekend. Really I just want to take advantage of the weather while I can.

The mornings are cold on the trail, and now that there are so many leaves on the ground even the smallest animals moving nearby sound like I'm being rushed by a heard of buffalo. Deer, just barely visible in the morning gray, become impossibly fast moving serial killers. The trash can at Cooper Park wants to torture me in its basement. Rabbits, hell-bent on revenge, dart in front of my tires, trying to steer me off the trail and into their lair where their families wait with knives and forks at the ready. That's right. Lairs. You didn't know that rabbits lived in lairs, did you? Now you do, so watch your ass.

In other news, Felix dropped a free Heiruspecs promo disk on his site the other day. Just click on FREE MUZAK , save it to your PC and drag it into iTunes for some free tunes. I was a big fan of "A Tiger Dancing" and some of their older stuff too, of course, but have to admit the new stuff reduces my interest in all things old. While it's not on my iPod yet, I listened through it last night and am digging them more and more. So, if you've ever wondered what Twin Cities Hip Hop sounds like, here's your big chance. You know me...I normally prefer my music soaked in reverb, layers of guitars, and a lead singer with a heroin habit but I'm branching out. You might want to try it too. In addition to his skills as an MC, Felix has mad skill organizing a Data Entry group. If you like what you hear, drop him a comment so he knows you're around.

I'm gonna ride home and then go participate in some Democracy. Then run home to see if Ohio is carried by my particular candidate of choice by one vote. If it happens, I'll run the streets taking credit for our collective win. Look for me, I'll be the big balding guy congratulating myself on the corner of Miller and Kelton. (I don't want to be seen in my own neighborhood.)

A Few of My Favorite Things

There are a few things that I'm totally hooked on right now and I thought I'd share. In no real order of importance:

Toilet Ink - Jen and I kind of have his and hers bathrooms. Mine is in the hall close to the extra bedroom that we use as a den. One of these glorious creations will be spicing up my throne post haste. Not 100% sure which one I'm getting yet, but pretty sure that it will be "The Hot Seat.

TV on the Radio - I've loved this band since I stumbled blindly upon the "Young Liars" EP and they are consistently good. The new album is amazing and totally worth picking up. I don't know if it's as good as their previous album "Return to Cookie Mountain", but this is a bit more fun and funky, and not quite so dark. If you want to hear what they do, but don't want to pay cash money up front, check out their free live set on the The Interface - Live Feed podcast from iTunes.

This American Life - I'm a bit of a Public Radio / NPR geek. It's OK, I'm fine with it. It's the news I listen to when I'm in the car, and entertainment for me when I'm running around on the weekends. Specifically though, This American Life is hands down the best hour of radio you will ever hope to find. For those unfamiliar, each week there is a theme for the show, and each week they explore different perspectives of that theme from (generally) three or four different people. The topics range from topical (the Mortgage Crises episode was brilliant beyond words) to emotional (coping with death, lying, etc.). The different views or approaches to a subject can be in the form of a book reading, interviews, stand up, or journalistic style reporting. Often, the experience is moving. Again, iTunes has the show available for free Podcasting, so don't be shy. Go subscribe. Fall in love. Then, go to their website and give them a few bucks. It is Public Radio after all.

Urban Medium - I know I've sung the praises of UM here a few times in the past, but I love them so I'm going to do it again. I FINALLY got the cash together to get Kim Jong iLL framed. I placed the order and dropped them off last weekend and will hopefully have them back in the next 3-4 weeks. Now, they have a new Charles Manson / Hello Kitty print that's pretty amazing. I'm gonna have to see if we have room for that too. On it's own, it wouldn't be a hard sell, but she is giving up a substantial chunk of wall space for the three prints I'm already getting framed. Not sure that she wants to live in a UM gallery.

Rue Morgue - I've been picking up this magazine at the bookstore from time to time and it's always been entertaining to me. It's an amazing collection of all things horror in all its art forms. Specifically though, this year's Halloween issue is fantastic. Filled with lists of best ever gore films, reviews for novels and video games, and just fun reading over all. If you don't mind stills of nude people impaled on giant poles, this magazine is for you (or maybe just me).

True Blood - Alan Ball, the genius behind Six Feet Under (my favorite television show of all time), is now giving us vampires in rural Louisiana. Lots of blood, sex, death, and black comedy in a show that imagines life after vampires have come out of the closet. Jen said it best: "I can't wait for this show to be over so we can buy it and watch it all again."

Bike Gang, Talking Heads Style

David Byrne is gracing New York with several different versions of bike racks. What an amazing idea. I could totally see something similar to this here in Columbus. Maybe we'd have to settle for the guys of McGuffy Lane designing them or something but still...we could make the idea our own.

Golf Buddies and Their Ripple Effect

Being an uneducated thirty-something guy, I've had the opportunity to work for a few companies that have gone the way of the Dodo. Actually, it's happened so often that I no longer feel the shock or the quick dose of panic that is actually visible on everyone's face when the news hits. Shutting companies the hell down is my bidness, and bidness aint so bad, let me tell ya.

One telecom company, one utility brokerage (what the fuck is that, anyway?), and three financial related jobs have all shut their doors under my careful watch. Some of the jobs I liked, most of them I didn't. In the end, they all went the same way.

The thing that I find the most interesting about the process now is the way that people react. Suddenly, going back to school and getting that degree like you should have done in the first place doesn't seem like such a giant pain in the ass. For that matter, to hell with it all, why not just move somewhere you've always wanted to live? There's nothing keeping you here anymore. You've always wanted to paint, or do open mic stand up, or write that novel, and suddenly because you are faced with joblessness all of that becomes more of a reality. Why is that?

Do we get so dulled by the day to day process of accumulating bills and then working to pay them off, that we decide that the other parts of ourselves (sometimes the parts that make living fun and worthwhile) are too big of a pain to indulge in?

Not all people do this. There are people who do what they do during the day to be able to do what's important to them at night. Whether that's spending time with family, doodling in a sketch book, perfecting your karaoke routine, or indulging in marathon Internet pornography sessions, if your job makes doing what you love to do possible, then the job is working for you. I think that's awesome and enjoy being around those people (with the notable exception of Mr. Porn Freak).

It's the people who have invested everything they have into their cubicle that feel the most lost when the rug gets pulled out from under them. I want to give them each a paint brush and tell them to put it on the canvas and tell them it doesn't matter that much in the end. There will be more cubicles, I promise.


----


I had been working in a call center for a mortgage company years ago while living in Texas. Life got interesting, then bad, then miserable, and I moved back North. When I moved back, I got a new job doing the exact same thing but this time with a new company. I couldn't have been more unhappy then I was taking call after call from customers who needed their escrow accounts explained to them. I had been doing the Customer Service thing for two years in Texas, and now here I was doing the exact same thing.

One morning, I get in the elevator to go up to my pen on the fourth floor, and I'm standing behind a couple of ladies who were dressed fifty times nicer than anyone on my floor could afford to dress. They say good morning to each other, and then one turns to the other excitedly and says:

"You'll never guess what Tom surprised me with last night!" Her eyes were hungry. I had the feeling that she would bite a hunk of her friend's cheek if she dared to even guess.

"What?!?" Her friend was overly excited. I could tell that every hope and dream she had ever had was pinned on what Tom had surprised his slightly stretched but still attractive wife.

"LORD OF THE DANCE!"

"NO!!!"

"YES!!!!"

"Oh my God. How was it?"

"Oh, that Michael Flatley... In-can-descent!"

I got off the elevator. I walked through the cardboard walls of cubicles until I found the one that had been assigned to me six moths before. I picked up my coffee mug and walked to my team lead's desk.

"Rachelle, I have to go."

"Oh, OK Stephen." Rachelle looks down at the coffe cup in my hand. For months there had been a running joke about my coffe cup that reads "Big Brother is Watching You" being the only personal item I brought to work.

"Um, Stephen...You're not coming back, are you?"

"No. I have to go. I can't stay." I'm talking to her, but inside I'm thinking that if the concept of personal hell was real, when my time comes I will be standing in that elevator for eternity, listening to a review of the touring version of Lord of the Dance. I couldn't take the chance on ever having that happen to me again.

She mumbled something about some paperwork that I would need to sign, and I asked if that was something I could do with HR when I came to pick up my final check. We said our goodbyes and I took the stairs to the lobby.

Even though it was my choice to leave, I was still filled with the excitement of freedom and the fear of joblessness. Maybe this would be the time to go back and get my degree. Maybe I really would start writing again. Maybe I'd really focus on my bass playing. It didn't really matter. All I knew was, that from that point on, I would never work a job that I wasn't passionate about. My optimsim was cute.


----

It's funny how a small group of men can walk out on a golf course half a continent away for a round while talking some business and then two months later you're looking for work. Lives are changed over beers and chip shots. I've never cared for golf.

Blood on the Bookcase

So, I finished "The Girl Next Door" by Jack Ketchum, and still don't know what to think or feel. It's not something I enjoyed reading at all, but still I couldn't stop. If you don't know anything about the book, it's a fictionalized account of the abuse two girls were subjected to at the hands of their aunt and a group of neighborhood kids. There was an actual occurrence of this in the 1950's in Indiana, and the documentation of the crimes and subsequent trial served as the basis for the "action" of the book. The subject matter alone would be enough to keep me from sleeping even if it were handled with care, but Ketchum was far from careful.

There were times that I found myself reading a paragraph and skipping to the end because the details were just too much for me to read. It was too real and the victims were children. I just couldn't get through it all line by line, and I am FAR from squeamish.

I'm a guy who loves horror. I enjoy my movies drenched in blood and I love to feel uncomfortable when I'm reading a book, but there is something about torture for torture's sake that just leaves me wanting more. "The Girl Next Door" straddled that line. I realize that the book makes a comment about what normal people are capable of, and how madness can be contagious, but the bulk of the book read like a play by play of childhood torture. It wasn't scary per se, just really disturbing and gross.

When Hostel came out, Jen and I were there the opening weekend and left a bit disturbed because we hadn't really seen a lot like it before, but now Torture Horror is all over the place. When I went back and watched it again, it didn't hold up for me, even with all the nude college women. Most horror out there tends to be a great scary premise (people paying money to torture and kill others, children locked in the basement, serial killer setting bizarre traps, etc.) but then doesn't hold up because there isn't enough story to string together the cool visuals and splatters.

After reading reviews of Jack Ketchum's work, I was super excited to read him. I've been waiting to find someone who is able to twist the whole horror genre into a new form of literature. I want to read a book that is dense with story and character that happens to be filled with mind numbing gore. It would be so great to have the reading population confused by a piece of writing that is so strong and beautiful on one hand but also happens to have a page long descriptions of graphic murder in it. I was hoping "The Girl Next Door" would be it, but it wasn't. Not by a damn sight.

Still, I did like some of his writing style. He sticks to blunt short prose, which appeals to me because writing like that is something I'm not able to do at all. It was good enough for me to start reading his first book last night, and I might find that more to my liking. I think it will read more like a story and less like a historical account. Plus, it seems to be about children who hunt and kill people for food, so it won't feel quite so rooted in reality. It will be a nice switch to read something where kids aren't the victims. Dinner is served.

Buying Groceries With Faster Pussycat

I'm a guy that generally take a good hour and a half to feel really awake after getting up in the morning. I muddle through mornings on autopilot, managing to survive a morning, but never really feeling engaged. This morning though, something cut through that haze.

On the television was your standard car commercial, but in the background the good folks from Chevy had selected a stripped down remix version of "Lazy Eye" by the Silversun Pickups. I died a little inside.

OK, I realize that SSPU are not exactly on par with "Instant Karma" being used by Nike, but I really like this band. They're a bit of a throwback to the wall of sound Smashing Pumpkins and noisy growl of My Bloody Valentine (comparisons that everyone makes, I know. That doesn't make them incorrect though). I saw them last summer and they were amazing live. So it hurt to see a Chevy Malibu being built in a factory to the lyrics "I've been waiting / I've been waiting for this moment all my life..." Sob.

It's like that though. They're a small band, and the drugs can't always be free. There's a new album to record, and they're on a small label (http://www.dangerbirdrecords.com) It's just that I like to keep my art and advertising separate. ESPECIALLY when it comes to car commercials.
Everyday I get surprised by how the music that is/was important has become used in ways I never would have guessed.

I'm a big Lou Reed / Velvet Underground fan. There's just something about the guy. Funny thing is, that awhile back I was driving around listening to the radio when I heard the string section from a song called "Street Hassle" (Lou Reed solo stuff) playing prominently in an advertisement for one of our local "Heart" hospitals. It was so funny to hear the voice-over guy talking about how said hospital beats the national average for heart attack response time by over twenty minutes backed by music Lou wrote. It was a wise choice not to include any of the parts of the song that contained lyrics:

"You know, I’m glad that we met man
It really was nice talking
And I really wish that there was a little more time to speak
But you know it could be a hassle
Trying to explain myself to a police officer
About how it was that your old lady got herself stiffed
And it’s not like we could help
But there was nothing no one could do
And if there was, man, you know I would have been the first
But when someone turns that blue
Well, it’s a universal truth
And then you just know that bitch will never fuck again
By the way, that’s really some bad shit
That you came to our place with
But you ought to be more careful around the little girls
It’s either the best or it’s the worst
And since I don’t have to choose
I guess I won’t and I know this ain’t no way to treat a guest
But why don’t you grab your old lady by the feet
And just lay her out on the darkened street
And by morning, she’s just another hit and run
You know, some people got no choice
And they can’t never find a voice
To talk with that they can even call their own
So the first thing that they see
That allows them the right to be
Why they follow it, you know, it’s called bad luck"

Nothing says responsive heart care like a song about ODing. Not to mention the fact that the first part details a sex scene in a kitchen. Oh well, I guess the music sounds nice enough and I'm sure that was far as they thought about it. Somewhere though, there is an ad exec patting himself on the back and saying "Fuck yeah, Lou Reed".

It's like this everywhere I go. I heard Modest Mouse at the grocery store a while back. There I am, pissed that I forgot to pick up English Muffins when I was in the bread isle, and they're playing "Dashboard". All of the 80's hairband music that I used to think was so hardcore (yes, I thought Motley Crue was hardcore when I was 12, what of it?) is the new muzak. You can hear The Scorpions or Great White being played in offices across Mid America right now. Seriously, just pop in to a local temp agency or insurance office. They're listening to Van Halen and yawning.

How long will it be before I see a Nine Inch Nails Volkswagen commercial or hear Sonic Youth in an elevator? How long before Ozzy Osbourne plays the telethon for Jerry's Kids and licks Ed McMahon's wilting cheek? ("Ha! That tickles, sir!") When are the fine young men of Wolfmother going to introduce a new line of flatware to be sold exclusively at Target?

Actually, if I'm honest, we could use new silverware...

Like Christmas in My Mailbox

*Used with permission from Urbanmedium.com . Check them out. Buy some shit.

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I was stuck at work late tonight when I heard that my dictator had arrived. Knowing that the prints that I had been tucking away money for had arrived made it even harder than usual to stay in the office until 7:30. As soon as I got home I opened the tube to behold Kim Jong iLL in all his glory. Really nice work. The only thing that will make me happier is getting them framed and up on the walls. Can't wait.

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In other sort of related news, an old friend, Laura Alexander turned me on to an event happening this Saturday. The Agora (sick of links yet?) seems like a great idea. It brings together hundreds of pieces of art, see a ton of local bands and go through fifty studios. Laura has studio space at Junctionview Studios (site of The Agora) and organizes other shows that take place on a regular basis. I haven't seen her since I was in highschool, but can't wait to say hi and check out some of her glass work in person. The photos I have seen look really great.

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You should come hang out Saturday night. Seriously. What else do you really have to do?

The Whigs

Just a quick note to say The Whigs are amazing. Saw them last night as part of CD101 Day 2008 with Switches, Zox, The Whiles, The Duke Spirit and Von Iva. All the bands sounded pretty good, but The Whigs were just amazing.

They were just three guys banging out garage rock and sounding bigger than anything else that hit the stage that night. Quality. I really hope they do a headlining tour so we can see more than 45 minutes.

I hated the Zox discs we picked up prior to seeing them live, but really dug them live too. All the heavy production was gone and they sounded more like a band than an 1980's retrospective. Really good. Jen loved all things Zox before, and last night just cemented that for her.

The Duke Spirit are great, but the sound kind of chugged out of them. I really dig the band, but a touch of muddy sound combined with a bit of a blase stage show just kind of faded into the background.

That's all. I'm no reviewer, to be sure.

I'm really looking forward to next Saturday's Agora Art show at Junctionview Studios. Hoping to see some good local stuff and maybe pick up a piece or two for the house. Jen and I have been on a bit of a kick buying a few pieces of art, and I can't wait to get out and see some more from the area.