Friday, October 14, 2005
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Saturday, September 24, 2005
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
System of a Down
One more thing. I just received word that System of a Down will release Hypnotize on Nov. 22! I am so excited. Hypnotize is the second part of a two part album Mezmerize/Hypnotize, which can be purchased as a single album after Nov. 22. Just Hypnotize will also be available. You can preorder the album at the bands official site, or check out the fan site here.
Crash
I watched the 2005 film Crash last night and it hit fairly hard. I thought it was a powerful flick. It stirred more emotion up in me than any movie that I've seen in the past couple months at least. The film is a modern portrayal of the lives of a number of different characters living in L.A. which focuses on racism, and how much it really has to do (and not do) with certain aspects of life. The movie reveals a wide spectrum of fear, love, depression, and politics. Although some of the portrayals seem fairly far fetched (the Asian immigrants in the van), others seem to hit it right on, although I have never spent time in a big city or experienced any racial diversity first hand. One thing is for sure, there was a melancholy feeling in me that remained with me until I fell asleep a few hours after the movie. Anyway, I recommend Crash to anyone interesed as a must see film. You can read more about the film here. On a lighter note, tonight I watch The Longest Yard (2005).
Guess what I heard?
So, today I heard on good old Sirius satelite radio that AC/DC is going on a US tour next summer. Does that make anybody even remotely excited? I love AC/DC so I am fairly stoked. Maybe I'll make myself go on a road trip to see them. Also, Neil Young has a new album being released on Sept. 27 and I have heard that it is supposed to be really good. You can pre-order on the the Neil Young official website. Listening to Big Head Todd and the Monsters right now. Good shit. I just listened to selections from Neil Young's Greendale, also good shit. Rock on folks.
Monday, September 19, 2005
This weeks top five...
Top 5 Albums.
- Umphrey's Mcgee - Anchor Drops. Probably my favorite album of all time. Some of the most BAD ASS musicianship I've heard.
- Shooter Jenning (Waylon's kid) - Lets Put the O Back in Country. Seriously folks, this is what I like to call "great country," "country that doesn't suck ass," "country that doesn't make me want to bash the radio in with Toby Keith's head," "country with a little bit o' country and a little rock and roll, a little Neil young and a little George Jones, a little Merle Haggard and a little bit o' the Stones, add a little bit o' Cash and a whole lot o' Waylon." This is solid country gold.
- Eric Clapton - Back Home. Yeah right. I actually paid 15 bucks for this album. What a waste. Seriously number 3 has got to be Pink Floyd - The Wall (part 2), just becuase I listened to it on the top of a mountain under the Harvest Moon (which was amazing). I swear there were hints of Yetti breath in the air. Kind of spooky, especially when that horrifying song with the judge and the "Tear down the Wall" chant played.
- System of a Down - Mezmerize, or is it Hypnotize? Not quite sure, the first one, released this spring. This shit is intense. You know what else is intense? Campers.
- Hank Williams Jr. takes the five spot with Greatest Hits because "a country boy can survive."
Runners up: Sublime - 40 Ounces to Freedom and Gasoline Alley. Both of these tie for the the 3 spot because Sublime is bad ass, Bradley has soul, the band is tight as hell in the studio, back in high school we used to listen to one of these CD's at least twice a night when we partied 3 or 4 nights a week, and I think I can sing along flawlessly with every one of the songs.
P.S. This is the first Top Five list in an ongoing series, unless I piss out and stop posting for another two months like last time.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Intense
"He'd ride sometimes clear to the upper end of the laguna before the horse would even stop trembling and he spoke constantly to it in spanish in phrases almost biblical repeating again and again the strictures of a yet untabled law. Soy comandante de las yeguas, he would say, yo y yo solo. Sin la caridad de estas manos no tengas nada. Ni comida ni agua ni hijos. Soy yo que traigo las yeguas de las montanas, las yeguas jovenes, las yeguas salvajes y ardientes. While inside the vaulting of the ribs between his knees the darkly meated heart pumped of who's will and the blood pulsed and the bowels shifted in their massive blue convolutions of who's will and the stout thighbones and knee and cannon and the tendons like flaxen hawsers that drew and flexed and drew and flexed at their articulations and of who's will all sheathed and muffled in the flesh and the hooves that stove wells in the morning groundmist and the head turning side to side and the great slavering keyboard of his teeth and the hot globes of his eyes where the world burned." - Cormac McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses.
"The last time that he saw her before she returned to Mexico she was coming down out of the mountains riding very stately and erect out of a rainsquall building to the north and the dark clouds towering above her. She rode with her hat pulled down in the front and fastened under her chin with a drawtie and as she rode her black hair twisted and blew about her shoulders and the lightning fell silently through the black clouds behind her and she rode all seeming unaware down through the low hills while the first spits of rain blew on the wind and onto the upper pasturelands and past the pale and reedy lakes riding erect and stately until the rain caught her up and shrouded her figure away in that wild summer landscape; real horse, real rider, real land and sky and yet a dream withal." - Cormac McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses.
"The last time that he saw her before she returned to Mexico she was coming down out of the mountains riding very stately and erect out of a rainsquall building to the north and the dark clouds towering above her. She rode with her hat pulled down in the front and fastened under her chin with a drawtie and as she rode her black hair twisted and blew about her shoulders and the lightning fell silently through the black clouds behind her and she rode all seeming unaware down through the low hills while the first spits of rain blew on the wind and onto the upper pasturelands and past the pale and reedy lakes riding erect and stately until the rain caught her up and shrouded her figure away in that wild summer landscape; real horse, real rider, real land and sky and yet a dream withal." - Cormac McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses.
Monday, June 20, 2005
Sunday, June 19, 2005
Folf This Way
Well, today I went folfing on a pretty heavy hang over. It had just rained, the course was moist and cool, there were only two other groups of people there, and I had what I think was my longest drive to date with a Champion Teebird! It reminded me of a little column I wrote for my high school newspaper a couple of years ago:
'There are about 45 minutes of light left in the day. A teenage boy stands alone in the forest as a gentle breeze cools the warm skin of his face.
He stares down a long, open clearing at a chest-high post sticking up from the ground about 100 yards away. His eyes hold their focus point as he begins to regulate his breathing and get ready for the throw.
A Killdeer trills in the background. The youth involuntarily ponders the meaning of life.
He takes a few steps forward while he smoothly pulls his left arm back to about his right shoulder, and then thrusts his arm and upper body forward, releasing the disc. Pfffffffff. He watches the disc soar towards the post at about 40 mph. It's a straight shot, very low to the ground. He instantly hopes that the disc doesn't veer right before it gets to the post. It's heading right for it! He grits his teeth and murmurs "Come on, come on, hit that," anticipating the next three seconds. The disc drops and skids across the ground directly toward the post. Thirty feet... twenty.... ten... five - and then... Pinnggg! The disc hits a lone 24-ounce Bud Light can and ricochets to the left about 15 degrees to miss the post by about six inches.
The boy falls to his knees. He finds it ironic that a good-willed, non-littering, environmentally conscious person like himself must suffer at the hands of careless folf drunkards, yet he knows that this incident is a perfect example of how the world often is.
Stopped dead in his tracks by the unfortunate mishap, the boy is pulled back into reality.
He turns his head in both directions and looks at the forest around him; at the dented, stripped, folf disc-hammered trees; at the litter - candy and granola bar wrappers, cigarette butts, crushed and uncrushed beer cans, bottles, shattered glass - scattered all around him; at his disc, inches from the post. He hears the screeching tires of some vehicle in the parking lot hundreds of yards away. "Quite the world we live in," he says out loud to himself.
Actually poor boy, it isn't the world we live in. It's the people that live in it. The people that bring their beer up to the Pattee Canyon Folf Course, drink it while enjoying a quality game of folf and leave their empties scattered and shattered across the course. It's the people who are too stupid to see any problem with littering wherever and whenever they please. And it's the people who are going to regret their carelessness when they are living in a never-ending dump forty years from now.
On a lighter note - the 24-ounce Bud Light can-in-one story is purely fictional. But the vandalized, trash-scattered Pattee Canyon Folf Course was a disgusting reality until about two weeks ago when it morphed into a success story.
Recently, some decent people have begun carrying large, black trash bags with them every time they folf. They have successfully cleaned up a huge amount of trash from the course, and have recreated an enjoyable folfing environment. Along with trash cleanup, the course has also been improved by two Hellgate seniors who gave the entire course new posts surrounded by wood chips.
Folf is a great sport held dear to many of us. So please, don't leave your trash on the course and please don't stand on, sit on, or try to loosen the new posts in any way.'
'There are about 45 minutes of light left in the day. A teenage boy stands alone in the forest as a gentle breeze cools the warm skin of his face.
He stares down a long, open clearing at a chest-high post sticking up from the ground about 100 yards away. His eyes hold their focus point as he begins to regulate his breathing and get ready for the throw.
A Killdeer trills in the background. The youth involuntarily ponders the meaning of life.
He takes a few steps forward while he smoothly pulls his left arm back to about his right shoulder, and then thrusts his arm and upper body forward, releasing the disc. Pfffffffff. He watches the disc soar towards the post at about 40 mph. It's a straight shot, very low to the ground. He instantly hopes that the disc doesn't veer right before it gets to the post. It's heading right for it! He grits his teeth and murmurs "Come on, come on, hit that," anticipating the next three seconds. The disc drops and skids across the ground directly toward the post. Thirty feet... twenty.... ten... five - and then... Pinnggg! The disc hits a lone 24-ounce Bud Light can and ricochets to the left about 15 degrees to miss the post by about six inches.
The boy falls to his knees. He finds it ironic that a good-willed, non-littering, environmentally conscious person like himself must suffer at the hands of careless folf drunkards, yet he knows that this incident is a perfect example of how the world often is.
Stopped dead in his tracks by the unfortunate mishap, the boy is pulled back into reality.
He turns his head in both directions and looks at the forest around him; at the dented, stripped, folf disc-hammered trees; at the litter - candy and granola bar wrappers, cigarette butts, crushed and uncrushed beer cans, bottles, shattered glass - scattered all around him; at his disc, inches from the post. He hears the screeching tires of some vehicle in the parking lot hundreds of yards away. "Quite the world we live in," he says out loud to himself.
Actually poor boy, it isn't the world we live in. It's the people that live in it. The people that bring their beer up to the Pattee Canyon Folf Course, drink it while enjoying a quality game of folf and leave their empties scattered and shattered across the course. It's the people who are too stupid to see any problem with littering wherever and whenever they please. And it's the people who are going to regret their carelessness when they are living in a never-ending dump forty years from now.
On a lighter note - the 24-ounce Bud Light can-in-one story is purely fictional. But the vandalized, trash-scattered Pattee Canyon Folf Course was a disgusting reality until about two weeks ago when it morphed into a success story.
Recently, some decent people have begun carrying large, black trash bags with them every time they folf. They have successfully cleaned up a huge amount of trash from the course, and have recreated an enjoyable folfing environment. Along with trash cleanup, the course has also been improved by two Hellgate seniors who gave the entire course new posts surrounded by wood chips.
Folf is a great sport held dear to many of us. So please, don't leave your trash on the course and please don't stand on, sit on, or try to loosen the new posts in any way.'
Friday, June 17, 2005
For the Kiddies
What do you think about cat food?
For me it just makes me feel good,
The taste is so tasty,
And the waste is so pasty,
That I like it better than hamburgers!
I like the brown shade,
Which is organically made,
And I like the soft crunch,
It tastes better than punch,
And I hear it is healthier than hamburgers!
For me it just makes me feel good,
The taste is so tasty,
And the waste is so pasty,
That I like it better than hamburgers!
I like the brown shade,
Which is organically made,
And I like the soft crunch,
It tastes better than punch,
And I hear it is healthier than hamburgers!
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