The Matador Is On Demand, I'm Going To Watch It.

Ugh.

I woke up this morning all congested. This is always a bad sign. Now, the abundant amount of time that I spent with my family over the last week, combined with the degree of sickliness that a couple members of my family were plagued by, has me thinking that I have contracted a cold. By my family, none the less.

Colds are aggravating. I say this in case anyone out there wasn't already aware of this. It hinders one's ability to speak, listen, breathe, as well as enjoy oneself.

I spent the entirety of today laying upon my couch watching football, something I find incredibly relaxing. That's right, essentially eight plus hours lying down, allowing the testosterone of the gridiron to compensate for the fact that I'm involved in theatre.

There are a few positives to the cold. One, if you're lucky enough to get sick while on winter break from your collegiate studies, your mother will take care of you. She even made me chili cheese dip. Two, you're supposed to drink a lot of fluids, giving me an excuse to down multiple glasses of water, apple cider, and orange juice that would normally get me yelled at. Gotta keep on the sunny side, right?

Over the past couple days I was privileged enough to go see both Sweeney Todd, as well as Juno. Both are phenomenal, and both deserve your immediate attention. Although, I wouldn't recommend them as a double feature. Juno has a remarkable soundtrack, and the wit alone make it worth the ticket price. I still want to see No Country for Old Men before break ends. Oh, and National Treasure II. The first one was great. I'm also finding myself incredibly excited for The Dark Knight. Heath Ledger's Joker is absolutely terrifying, which sparks my interest.

Soulja Boy is really starting to push my buttons.

I recently realized that I haven't left my house today. This depresses me.

Old Paint Is Peeling, This Is That Fresh, That Fresh Feeling

I got a GORGEOUS new pair of Bose speakers for Christmas today, and I was forced to ask myself a very serious question. I mean, these are Bose speakers. Bose. So now I'm faced with a dilemma.

What's the first song I should play on my brand new Bose speakers?

There are plenty of things to consider at this point. I mean, I want to experience the full range of potential in my newly acquired music boxes in one song. Hip-hop would best illustrate the bass abilities. Pop would display the treble. A musical soundtrack, especially something big like JC Superstar or The Lion King, would show the tonal range. The last time I was faced with this choice, I went with "Truth Is" by Brother Ali. Hip-hop, for those outside the know. This time, I wanted more.

Bluegrass would be good. It includes an array of instruments, each able to open up different nooks and crannies of my listening experience. Or some Daft Punk, something with a monstrous beat, but that would essentially be hip-hop again. Punk is automatically out. Don't get me wrong, I love the stuff, but it's severely lacking when it comes to tonal range. Folk's out too, just not enough variety to it. Where to go? Then it hit me.

Eels.

That's right. What kind of music could fill essentially everything I was looking for? The orchestral synth indie and soothing vocals of Mr. E himself. "Fresh Feeling" seemed like the best option, and I went with it. Good call on my part, I must admit, and the sound was astoundingly glorious.

Thanks Mom.

Breakfast of Champions

There is a major problem with used book stores. This problem is that, though there are billions of books in the world, most of them suck. Unfortunately, many people are suckered into purchasing these lousy volumes for whatever reason, and then, in their never-ending search for redemption, they sell it to a used book store. Then, when someone such as myself needs to buy something like seventeen Kurt Vonnegut books for his contemporary literature study on Mr. Vonnegut next semester, and this particular someone chooses to tour the local used book stores in order to save himself some dough, he runs into like thirty-five (roughly) copies of the same, apparently crappy, book. This will then frustrate said someone, especially since books by Mr. Vonnegut are, again apparently, impossible to find used since, apparently, nobody wants to sell them. I found three, bringing my total up to seven, and leaving me with ten to go.

Doomtree Blowout III was, as I had hoped, amazing. Those folk know what they're doing, and they tore First Avenue down Friday night. Hopefully the Doomtree collective album will drop soon, as the False Hopes they released at the Blowout was essentially just a b-sides collection from the album. I want more.

I need to hit up the movies. I'm thinking of taking a full day sometime during this break, head to the theater, and just watch movie after movie. No Country for Old Men is probably at the top of my list, but American Gangster's up there too. Plus, National Treasure II and Sweeney Todd come out next week. Tasty.

I have a dentist appointment tomorrow. That is bad news, since I'm awful at taking care of my teeth. On top of everything, it's at 7:30 in the morning, a solid eight hours from right now. I should go brush my teeth.

All My Love Was Down In a Frozen Ground

I wish my camera worked so I could show you the world right now. You see, it's winter here in the midwest, which means we've had snow on the ground for a couple weeks now. Snow generally means relatively chilly weather. But what noise do I hear as I awake this morning?

Rain.

Now rain isn't a terrible thing on most days. The sidewalks on campus are old, thus causing horrendus flooding all over, but this is somewhat avoidable and all together not that inconveniant. However, rain plus snow (and vicariously rain plus cold) equals slush (and eventually ice). I could use some golashes. All of campus is either slippery or sloshy and I haven't decided which I prefer. Slippery has the potential for disaster, what with my ability to slip and slide like a master. Sloshy on the other hand has the 100% chance of soaking my feet, leaving my toesies cold, my shoes smelly, and my attitude mucky.

The trees are beautiful though. Every one of them is coated in a think layer of ice, causing them to sink into themselves, or occasionally lose limbs. As I look out the window from my perch at the library circulation desk, the outside world looks like someone took a snapshot of the gymnasium, framed it under glass, than cracked the glass in multiple places. The white branches crawl over the brick like ivy on prestige. I would dance if it wouldn't ruin my shoes.

I was walking to a meeting a few days back when I saw something marvelous. Steam was rising up from under a manhole cover in the sidewalk. Behind this steam was a lanky tree with a yellow floodlight basking it. This light was projecting the shadow of the tree onto the steam. The image wavered with the wind as the molecules lifted beyond it, only temporarily coating each morsel of evaporated water until it moved past the stencil it had become.

I can't describe how badly I miss my camera.

Sleep, though nourishing, has the potential to increase stress. I stayed up all night from Sunday into Monday for the sole purpose of spending more time with my friends before winter break comes. This was seemingly not the best idea. It was 8 am before I decided that bed was probably a good idea. Waking up at 1:30 pm for work proved nauseating, literally, as I was so dizzy I could barely make it to the bathroom. I texted my coworker and went back to sleep, not getting up until 5:30 pm. I was only awake from then until 1 am, at which point I decided that sleeping was more productive than playing pokeman on my computer. I woke up at 11 am this morning. That means that in the 27 hours from 8 am yesterday to 11 am today, I was awake for only 7 1/2 of them. As comforting as this sounds to the majority of my friends who are currenty sleep deprived, it allows for nothing to get done. This is only an issue because I was technically suppose to have a 2,500 word essay done by tomorrow at 1 pm. This, undoubtedly, will not happen. That's my second X (an incomplete without the consequences) in one and a half years of college. Let's hear it for me.

Bon Iver is still amazing.

Take Me to the Riot

The library I work in here on campus just purchased new green and red metal bookends. Normally, the color of a bookend doesn't even catch my attention, but picture this with me if you will. We are assigned the job of walking up and down all the rows of books on the third floor, the one floor of the library that is literally 80% bookshelves, in order to be sure that all of the books are in a somewhat tidy fashion. Imagine now the various colors we are absorbing, mainly antiqued and faded shades of reds, oranges, and blues. Now insert these bright red or green shiny bookends capping off every single row. Feel the harshness of contrast burning into your eyes. This is the task I just completed.

The open forum show that I host once a month, what we call Blindspot, had it's final show of 2007 last night. Over ten percent of campus showed up to rock out with us. I've had countable, but still impressive, numbers of people coming up to me since then saying that it was the best Blindspot they'd seen since they've been here. Some of my personal favorites included a skit about a murder playing charades, shaving someone's head while they told a story of getting punched while walking to Wendy's, tons of poetry (something that has resurged this year at Blindspot, much to my love), and sing-a-longs to "Here Comes the Sun," "Leaving On a Jet Plane," and Bon Iver's "Skinny Love," which no one other than Charlie, Will, and I sang along to. It was dubbed, by myself, as the Dedication Blindspot, and I accepted dedications throughout the duration of the show. I dedicated it to Shout Stain Wipes, for they allowed me to look less ketchupy on stage. Some other included Fabreeze, the "booze crew," and my five o'clock shadow, which is now a neatly trimmed attempt at a beard. It's winter, and my face is cold.

Charlie told me that I need to start listening to Stars. Brian had given me there stuff last year, and someone else got me there new one, but I hadn't gotten to it yet. I'm playing it through my earphones as I work in the library right now, and I must say, it's great stuff. I can't really say more than that, seeing as this is just my first real listen through, but it's really groovy stuff, not hippie style groovy, more like subtle body shaking style groovy. I dig the duel voices.

I'll be home in six days.

If Sheena Is a Punk Rocker, I Hope She Gets CNN AND al Jazeera

I was reading a good friend of mine's blog and he began to soapbox about the state of what he used to consider "punk." Now most of the time I wholeheartedly agree with what this guys says, but today he threw me. This is something I've been thinking about for a while and I decided to take his blog as an opportunity for me to spit off on the topic.

I was a punk in high school. No, I didn't dress like one or start my own punk band, but it's what I listened to and it's what I identified as. Since then, I've grown and matured and shifted my beliefs. Would I still consider myself punk? Yes.

Punk, at least what was once considered "punk," is dead. The mohawk, leather jacket, cigarette smoker with the tattoos and raised fist isn't punk anymore. It's style. Singing about hating the government is punk anymore, it's consciousness. The alternatives have become a social norm.

But if you ask anyone who still believes in punk what they consider it to be, they wont say what's been listed above. To these people, myself included, punk isn't what you where, what music you listen to/write, or the way your body looks. It's an attitude. Don't scoff. I don't mean that punk is angsty or rebellious, though that's what it started as and still can be. Punk is passion and reform. When bands like the Sex Pistols, the Ramones, or the Velvet Underground started making music, it was passionate. Sure, it was rebellious, loud, and anarchistic, but it was purposeful, something that a lot of music from that era wasn't before. By that logic, would I consider Bob Dylan punk? Hell yea. He came up at a time in which people didn't know this genre and he made it say something he felt needed to be said. Is his music punk rock? No. But there's a difference between being a punk and recording punk rock.

I think people get those two things mixed up, and that's why people say that punk is dead. They see what punk rockers looked like and sounded like back when punk rock started, and they see that's all gone now, leading them to say that it's dead. Had some band released Never Mind the Bullocks in 2007, nobody would have bought it. This is true. But that was punk at the time.

What we need is the punk of today. If distortion, mohawks, and anti-American rants are social norms and no longer respected, then we need to find how we can change things now. At this point I see punk as those who read a lot, become politically aware of their surroundings, formulate their opinions, and use this knowledge to fight against what they see as the cause for these injustices and fight for improvement. The social reformists, the people who question everything around them, and resist the want to be content with what's been given, these are our punks. They don't have a haircut, or a clothing line, but they have ideas.

Flicker

I just watched a light bulb burn out. This is not a metaphor.

There's A Battle Raging Inside Nobody's Safe From

Home wasn't really as great as I expected it to be. I should realize that a break that short that late in the semester, combined with my tendency to procrastinate beyond what is emotionally healthy, not to mention the dynamic of my household, wouldn't go that smoothly. As should have been expected, it was a rocky break.

Every time my mother and I are together for an extended time, we get to bickering. We both have obscenely stubborn personalities, and we clash terribly, loudly, and often in front of people. I hate it, but it's hard for me to break the personality treat. We get into a tiff, and I can't tell myself that it isn't worth arguing over. I just keep going until we're both pissed off, and nothing gets better from there.

We also have very different ways of dealing with post-argument time. She dismisses everything quickly, pretending like nothing happened, but I can't do that. To me, these fights keep happening because there is something in our relationship that's sparking them. To allow them to pass and not talk about them afterwards only allows the wound to fester. At this point, it pulsing with infection.

One of my uncles is separated from his wife of, well since before I was born. The family seemed to baby him throughout most of the big feast, which I could tell bothered him. He seems happy, which is a good thing, but she was probably my favorite relative. It made Thanksgiving a lot harder for me to get excited about. I understand that this is how life goes in this age, but I don't know what to think about it.

My family seems to be sinking into falsity. There's constant talk behind backs and very little honest questioning. I can see through it really easily, and I think most people are able to. I'm at the age where I'm trying to construct meaningful, honest, real relationships with the people around me, and all my family, the supposed backbone of my life, is providing me with is an example of why most people hate middle school.

On a positive note, I saw Sage Francis with Against Me! over break. They were both great live, and I got to go with my brother, Tim, which made it all even better. Maybe it's just my ego talking, but it seemed like Sage kept making eye contact with me, which threaded me even deeper into his set.

When They Kiss They Spit White Noise

I get to go home tomorrow, which will be glorious since I've been home for a grand total of about three hours since I left in August. I miss my Twin Cities people and the hum of the cities.

Things haven't gone as well as I would have hoped concerning the optimistic "opportunity" I wrote about last time. Things aren't bad, I just got hit with a pretty hard left that I didn't really see coming. That makes it sound like something really bad happened, which isn't true. Basically, we just had different ideas of what our relationship was. No towel was thrown in or anything, it just, well it sucked.

There was a bit of an altercation between myself and a friend of mine over another friend of ours. I was guilted into feeling bad about the person that I am, which I hate feeling. I know that I'm not perfect and that my personality is a little difficult to understand, but I don't dislike who I am and I don't like being made to feel like I'm a bad person. Last night, words alone never could save us.

That's from a Hold Steady track, entitled "First Night." I've been listening to a lot of them lately, I think because of the poetic nature of his singing style. It's almost spoken word, which intrigues me. That, and Craig Finn, the vocalist, is a Twin Cities native, being the ex-frontman of the defunct Lifter Puller. He does some great stuff with his music.

I guess I just want to feel like there is such thing as "home" again. Maybe I'm just running away from the things aren't going well here, but at this point, I'm okay with running. So, bring on tomorrow.

We're Under the Same Stars

I wrote three articles for this week's issue of my college newspaper today. I don't even know what to say about that, other than the fact that I can't believe I'm still typing. By all means I should either be sleeping or, at the very least, enjoying some television. Unfortunately, my roommate is fast asleep, thus making me reluctant to power up the tube and see what's on. It happens.There was a fiction/poetry workshop reading on campus today, one that I had to take part in. It was surprisingly enjoyable. I read the first page and a half of a short story I wrote called "sllipills." It went over fairly well, at least as well as I could have expected for a hallucination story. I was pleasantly surprised by how wrapped up I got in my fellow writers' works. Not to say that I had low expectations, because that was not the case, I just didn't expect to become as grabbed as I was. I love feeling the art around me.

There's this girl...and I dig her...and she digs me...and I hope it works out. There's probably a lot more I could say about the situation, but I don't feel like now is the time, nor this the venue. These situations are when one can really test his ability to act confident and composed when, on the inside, he's a train wreck of hopes, second guesses, and over analysis. Sorry, anyways...

I got back from the newspaper office in need of something to soothe my ears. The original plan was to throw on M. Ward, especially his cover of Bowie's "Let's Dance," but I'm concerned that I'll overplay myself away from that track. It's so gorgeous though, it's hard to steer away from it. Instead, I threw on Karine Polwart's album Scribbled in Chalk. I picked this up for no reason other than iTunes told me I might like it. Tonight was my first play through, and I'm really happy with it. She reminds me of Antje Duvekot. Maybe it's just that I love females who can write and play folk music. More likely, it's the fact that Ms. Polwart is extremely talented.

I mentioned Fink a few posts ago, but I feel like they deserve another nod. They employ a mixture of folk/acoustic foundations with electro-indie sounds that creates a really innovative style. Kind of like The Beautiful Girls with a bit more soul influence. Definitely worth looking into.
After months of hearing things about the film Half Nelson, I finally got a chance to see it. Must say, well done. Ryan Gosling has really earned back the respect I'm sure he lost from being affiliated with The Notebook (never seen it, so I guess I shouldn't pass judgment). Kind of a downer film, like if Training Day was about education instead of the police. I found it fascinating and, as unfortunate as it is, completely believable. With the world we live in, I don't find it hard to understand when people need something to help them get through it. I'm not advocating the methods with which Gosling's character does this, but I do get it.

These are all still old pictures of mine. I need to find myself a tiny screwdriver to replace the back of my camera, which has proven incredibly difficult.

Why Does It Take a Tragedy to Bring Us Together?

I recently received word that Small Towns Burn a Little Slower, the band that defined high school for me, are calling it quits after five years of making music together. These are some of my favorite moments surrounding them and the impact they had on my musical identity.

I remember the first time I ever Small Towns, and I still consider it one of the best shows I’ve ever been to. It was back in early 2004 at the Triple Rock Social Club. It was only the second real show I’d ever been to (the first was Motion City Soundtrack and Rufio with this opening band that I’ve never hear of again, what was their name…oh yea, Fall Out Boy). The show was a benefit for three sisters who had been killed in a car accident. They had been involved in the Twin Cities music scene, and so a bunch of bands got together to throw the benefit. A friend of mine in high school told me about it, so we showed up. I still remember the lineup. We showed up a little late, so we caught Eastside Heroes, December’s Last Words, Small Towns, and Motion City Soundtrack. I remember being so impressed by Small Towns that I went back and bought their EP, at that point a CD-R in a black metal tin with a sticker on it. I still have that same sticker on my portable CD player.

Once, my friend Mike and I drove to some far out suburb to catch Small Towns for free in the basement of a church. They played Peewees Big Adventure in the background for the whole show, which was amusing as hell. Before their set, Danny (vocalist) did a little solo set, in which he played “The Freshman” by The Verve, a Springsteen song, and admitted that he had completely forgotten how to play “A Flower Cross,” the acoustic track from their first EP. Great stuff.

I remember the kick off show for their first big tour with Farwell My Enemy and Ever We Fall. Ever We Fall blew me away. Then, I remember the same bands playing in the back of the Fallout art gallery in Minneapolis. Small Towns closed it down with an acoustic set, meaning me and my pals (Grinaldo, Tim, Mike, and I, affectionately known by the band, mainly Ryan, as the Small Towns Man Groupies) pulled a couch towards the front and chilled for their set. During the show, Adam from Ever We Fall asked Danny from Small Towns to write him a song, so Adam sat on a stool right in front of Danny while being sung to. That was the first time I met Danny’s fiancé. After the show, my mom picked us up (I was young, shut up), and after yelling at Ever We Fall, Adam chased down my mom’s car and gave us all high fives.

Warped Tour, 2004. That was amazing. I remember that we ran into a girl that we saw at a bunch of Small Towns shows right away, and she, in a sugarhigh manner, told us that Small Towns would be playing one of the small stages. We immediately found a couple posters that bands were handing out. One we ripped into what seemed like hundreds of pieces and the other we left whole. We wrote, both on the pieces and the poster, the time and stage that Small Towns would be playing, and roamed around handing out our makeshift flyers and screaming. Their set was amazing and absolutely packed. I still have pictures. Tommy (guitarist) did his trademark “mic stand as a guitar slide” move. My buddy Mike also jumped up on stage at one point and rocked out with Danny.

The video premiere show for “Answers” was intense. They taped a bed sheet to the wall and projected the video onto it. Small Towns absolutely tore the place up afterwards. I don’t know if I’ve ever been to that roaring of a show in my life. That was at the Toybox in Minneapolis. I don’t remember if it was the same show or not, but I saw them their once when Joel (guitarist) had just gotten his Transformers tattoo on his forearm. He was so excited, it was adorable.

The Ascot Room at the Quest was always interesting too. They played a show their once around Ryan’s (bassist) 21^st birthday, and I remember him being absolutely wasted, but funny as hell. They played their with an amazing band called The Exchange once as well.

The record release show for Mortality As Home Entertainment was great too. They had someone introduce them and they entered to the hidden, techno remix of “It’s A Death Curse.” Funny as all hell. The Lifestyle played that show too. I took one of my senior pictures wearing their shirt.

There are so many more memories that are still locked in my head along all of the English Literature that’s trying to take its place. The countless times we screamed along to “Wait For Me Abbey Bernstein,” “Alias: The Beekeeper,” and “Last Blast Off.” All of the times we shouted for “Churches and Hospitals” because it is still one of the best rock songs of all time and then going absolutely ape shit every time they played it because it meant we could feel like we had actually known them from the beginning, and not just since the release of Mortality As Home Entertainment. All of the times I got comments from friends, relatives, and complete strangers on my “Small Towns Stole My Girlfriend” t-shirt. The time I ran into Tommy at Target shopping for hoodies, or the time I saw Ryan and his girlfriend at Kohls with my mom and he was excitedly showing me his new track jacket. All the times I’ve had Danny’s sweaty hear in my mouth because he sought me and the rest of the Small Towns Man Groupies out to sing the chorus of “Wait for Me Abbey Bernstein” with him. I remember the first time that happened and how important I felt for that time because a guy in a band I LOVED had shared the mic with me. How cool I felt a couple summers ago when Tommy invited me to their rehearsal space so the whole band could sign a poster and CD for a cancer benefit gift basket I was putting together. All of the awesome conversations I’ve had with Tommy that have changed my perspective on what a scene can be, not to mention how back home he makes me feel every time I read his MySpace blog, even though I’m four hours away in Iowa. All of the shows I’ve ran into guys from Small Towns at, everyone from Motion City Soundtrack to Rocky Votolato.

These guys made me feel like I was a part of their band’s progression and honestly made me see how important it is to support the local music scene. I will always associate the Triple Rock, the Ascot Room, the Toybox, the entire warehouse district of downtown MPLS, and my musical roots with these guys. To Small Towns, you guys consistently made me feel euphoric at each and every one of your shows, but even more than that, made me feel like I was part of something, be it a band, a scene, a city, a lifestyle, a camaraderie, or a real friendship. I love each and every one of you guys and I thank you for making my high school days the most amazing they could have been, and for showing me that five friends can change the world through their music. As sentimental and heart warming as this is, “Churches and Hospitals” just started playing, and I gotta jump around. Thanks for everything.

Make Art, Not War

They turned the heat on in my building today, meaning that walking into my room tonight was like walking into a mouth. Everything was thick and felt a little moist. I turned it off, so hopefully it'll clear out soon.
Through the advice of iTunes recommendations, I downloaded this album by Fink called "Distance and Time." It's really good indie folk stuff that I highly recommend.

I've been listening to Sigur Ros a lot too, which is just beautiful. Modest Mouse too.

The back of my camera broke, hence the lack in new pictures for y'all. I ordered a new back, which has arrived, but I need to find a tiny little screwdriver to replace it.

I'm hitting up the art store in Iowa City tomorrow, which makes me excited. I really want to go home so I can go to Art Scraps, which I now miss terribly. My thrift stores will be there too.

I was on etsy.com today (it's amazing, check it out) and I found what may be the best belt buckle of all time. I ordered it. It's a turntable, something I feel really needs to be on my waist. It was only $15 and I like supporting individual artists. I'll let you know how amazing it is once I get it.

It Comes Down to This

I went and saw The Darjeeling Limited with some friends last night. Phenomenal. Really, just beautiful work. Wes Anderson's abilities astound me.

I feel myself growing testy, easier set off by things around me. I'm not sure how I feel about that.
The ability to create is the meaning of life. I have accepted this, for now, as truth. A friend of mine gave me a print of Marilyn Monroe's head that they weren't going to use. I went out a couple days ago and bought a cork board and some spray paint. Then, I printed off 27 speech bubbles that I had been working on instead of doing a take home test. The end result is an interchangeable "Marilyn Monroe Statement of the Day" board in my room. Yesterday, she said, "This is Me." Today, she's saying, "Uh, Zoom Zip."

During the same venture that got me said cork board, I also found some string lights for an extremely cheap price. I strung one set around my desk area, and the other underneath my roommate's bed so it lights mine. A great investment if you ask me.

They're offering a Vonnegut course here next semester. I'm excited.

Let's Wake the Baby With a Baseball Bat

That's part of one of my lines as of lately. I've been having this discussion lately, I finally feel like I woke up. Like my brain snapped back on after coasting through the last three or so years. I've rediscovered my want for education and my want for change. It's hard to explain, but I feel like I'm a part of something again. I want to cause something.


The full line is "Let's wake the baby with a baseball bat/At least the screaming has a meaning, cat, consider that." It's from a song called "Hunger Pains Three" by Minneapolis rappers P.O.S. and Crescent Moon off of P.O.S.'s album Ipecac Neat. I'm not promoting making our infants cry, but just the idea of waking ourselves up so that our screaming is just a dream anymore. I dig it.

I've been head bobbing to the new Say Anything album, In Defense of the Genre, over the past couple days as well. It's great stuff. Usually when a group releases a two-disc album, I hate it. I've found that most of these (Stadium Arcadium for example) end up sounding like an album full of b-sides because, well, that's what they have to be. Few bands can record, in one setting, two discs full of quality material, but this is one. Sure, there are a couple songs I don't really get including, "Died a Jew" for example (a song in which the vocalist "brags" about the strife his people have gone through, but comes across sounding forced and poorly constructed), but overall, a very solid album. Check it out.

I'm writing again, creatively that is. I may post some of it on here, let me know if you want that.

Snap

I took these pictures last Thanksgiving. I figure, we're nearing that time again, right?

Desolation Row

Do you ever have one of those moments where you feel like you're tapped into something without even knowing it? I was walking around campus a few days ago and at one point I flipped on my hood for no apparent reason. About twenty seconds later it started pouring out of nowhere. It didn't strike me as odd until I got inside.

I've heard a terrifying number of people talking about Stephen Colbert running for president. I think the thing I respect the most about Jon Stewart is that, when people asked him about running for president, he always said how ridiculous of an idea that is. This this with Colbert scares me, just because people seem to like the idea. Don't get me wrong, I don't think he could screw up this country anymore than Bush has been doing, but he's a comedian. He's always been a comedian. You hear people say that they're worried about Obama's lack of experience, but he's got heaps more than Colbert. I just have this horrible vision of everyone writing in Colbert's name and getting him elected. What does that say about how our country views the idea of democracy at this point? Has Bush really lowered our standards that much? I mean, when democrats were saying "Anyone but Bush in 2004," I don't think they meant this. Our country's government has become a complete joke.

I wrote a short story a few weeks back now that, admittingly, sucked. However, there was a part where I talked about how the president really has no power over anything. I then compared him to the Queen of England, just another figurehead. I liked that part.

I'll post pictures later.

Click

I went to the Chicago-land area this last weekend with my friend, Chris. It was pretty sweet, I love that area. We stayed at his place, about forty-five minutes outside of the city. I'd like being closer, but who's going to argue free housing? We went and saw Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind. It's the third time I've seen the Neo-Futurist show and I am amazed every single time. I'm fairly sure that I'll be doing my student teaching in Chicago in a few years and I've tentatively decided that, if I can fit it in with student teaching, I'm going to try to join the Neo-Futurists. For those who don't know, they're a theatre troupe that do, among other things, Too Much Light. It's 30 plays in 60 minutes, all of which they write, rehearse, and perform every weekend. They write 2-12 new shows every week, so the show is always different. It would satisy so much of what I love in life, meaning writing and performing. They have this insane ability to drift between absolute hilarity and incredible meaning in mere moments. I love it, absolutely love it, and would love to make it a part of me.

The weekend was strange. As I said, I went with a friend of mine and his girlfriend. I hate watching a new relationship in bloom. Maybe that came out more cynical than I had intended, but I feel it's honest. Maybe it's because I think I see the difference between young love and actual, lifelong love now. Or, maybe it's because I'm a bit lonely and watching two people in constant contact with eachother does nothing but pull the bitterness out of me. I don't like being like that, and I don't want to be, but I am lately. I don't like dwelling on this, let's move on.

I read on Mike Doughty's blog (www.mikedoughty.com/blog) that Dan Wilson (former frontman of Semisonic) released his solo album yesterday. Being as easily led, and as much of a Dan Wilson fan as I am, I immediately bought it off of iTunes. It's gorgeous stuff. He's got such an honest, pure sound to everything he touches, I can't put it away.

I miss photography. I've decided that I'm going to carry my camera with me pretty much everywhere I go from now on, because, well, photography is fulfilling. I think I just miss art in general. I want to date an artist. If you're an artist, and you're interested, drop me a line.

I took these pictures almost a year ago now, but I've been looking at them a lot lately.

Off

I'm just sitting around, watching a little MTVU (swear, I'm addicted) and what should come on? A new Brother Ali video for "Take Me Home." That's one of my favorite tracks off of his last release, The Undisputed Truth, so I was pleased. The whole video centers around this voyage through a downtown area and every time the character that Ali is playing walks off screen, a new character comes on, also played by Ali. I was happy to see Ali's DJ, BK-One, making an appearance in the video. Good stuff.

Right after it came Aesop Rock's video for "None Shall Pass" off his new album of the same name. I'm digging the new record. He continues to do really interesting stuff with hip-hop (like having John Darnielle from The Mountain Goats guest on the closing track). "None Shall Pass" has one of the best beats I've heard Blockhead produce in awhile.



A friend of mine showed me a preview for the movie Across the Universe today. It's a new movie/musical made up of all Beatles songs. The trailer looks absolutely amazing. It's about a kid who goes to New York in what seems to be the middle of the Vietnam protests. He's an artist and is being criticized for not acting out in the same manner as those around him. I'm excited, I think we're going to go see it this weekend.



We may go see We Own the Night too. That's the new Joaquin Phoenix, Mark Wahlberg flick. This looks like a great action/suspense movie. I'm excited.

Also, I'd been reading about this short film by Wes Anderson (of Rushmore/Royal Tenenbaums/Life Aquatic fame) called Hotel Chevalier. Granted, most of the things I read just talked about Natalie Portman's nude scene, but I found on site that talked about the short itself. I downloaded it off of iTunes (it's on their for free) and it's great stuff. Wes Anderson knows what he's doing. Apparently, this is a sort of opening scene that was included in the movie it was filmed for. That movie's called The Darjeeling Limited. It stars Jason Schwartzman, Owen Wilson, and Adrian Brody. I really want to check this film out, but being an artsy independent, I don't know if it'll make it Iowa. Fingers crossed though.


There's this song in Hotel Chevalier by Peter Sarstedt called "Where Do You Go To My Lovely?" I'd never heard this track before, so I immediately went out and downloaded it. It's really beautiful. I've got to find myself some more of this guy's stuff.

Fall break is this weekend. Chicago, here I come.

Sleepy

I'm in one of those times where I have plenty of things that need to get done, but nothing I want to do. One of my classes is taking up so much of my time that I'm beginning to fall behind in all of my others. It's frustrating, especially since I really don't even "need" this class. I'm seriously considering dropping it, but I think I would feel bad only taking 3.5 credits this semester. It's nothing to be ashamed of, I know, it's just how my mind works.

I drove up to Northfield, MN on Thursday to see my buddy, Tim's, show. He designed the lights for there production of Twelfth Night. It was great stuff, comical without being overly slapstick. I drove back here yesterday, then had to emcee our variety show, then went to Perkins. By the time 2 am rolled around, I was done.

I'm still kind of in that mood. I know that I'm not getting as much sleep as I should, I am in college, but I feel like I can't catch up to myself. Everytime I close my eyes it's harder to open them up again.

It's been way too long since I've been to a good club show. I saw Andrew Bird a couple weeks back, but that was in a theater. Don't get me wrong, he was absolutely incredible, it's just not the same vibe. I have tickets to go see Atmosphere at a small little club in Iowa City at the beginning of November, but it's still early October. I think this is my version of homesickness. I miss the smelly, overpacked venues with people crammed into eachother, everyone rocking there heads to the same beat. That gross feeling afterwards, when you walk out with everyone else's sweat coating your arms. I love that. It's communal for me.

The dating scene on a college campus is rediculous, especially for a school as small as this one. Granted, it's been a long time since I've been on the look out for someone to spend time with, but this seems strange. I've asked a couple girls out, both of which I think assumed that me asking them out was my way of saying that I had some sort of deep feelings for them. I guess that's how some people date, but not me. I just want to go out and spend time around some people that I find interesting. Then they "let me down easily." This part almost makes me laugh. I've known you for a few weeks, it's not like I have a lot at stake emotionally if you say yes or no (or if you say yes, then just stop talking to me).

As funny as it seems sometimes, I'm beginning to feel undateable. Not in a "Woe is me" kind of way, more in a "People don't know the whole me" sort of way. I have a big, slightly obnoxious pressence, I'm aware of this, but I do turn it down when it needs to be. But steering away from this topic...

I just watched a trailer for the new Sweeney Todd movie directed by Tim Burton and starring Johnny Depp, Helena Bonham Carter, Sasha Baron Cohen, and Alan Rickman. I'm really excited for this one, we haven't had a good movie/musical since Chicago came out years back now. Click here to see the trailer: http://www.filmschoolrejects.com/trailers/sweeney-todd-the-demon-barber-of-fleet-street-trailer.php

The Kingdom, the new Jamie Foxx/Jennifer Garner flick, is absolutely phenomonal. Honestly, one of the best films I've seen in years, although horribly violent. I loved it, but I don't know if I'll be able to see it again for awhile. It's one of those types.

Strange

I've found that there's a strange voyeuristic, yet romantic feel to blogs. Something about digging into the lives of people I either know better than I feel is safe, or people who I've only met through their music and poetry, it makes me feel communal. I've been an avid reader of Mike Doughty's blog for almost a year now, and I still read my musician friend Tommy's blog as often as I can. I can't tell if I like their blogs because I find what they're saying interesting, or just because I like what I know about these people, but it's addicting regardless of reason.

I browsed through my college's musical theatre songbook collection today looking for audition peices. I forgot how much I enjoy musical theatre. I found myself going back in my head to all the times I've sat in a theater and watched a musical, shows I haven't really even thought about since. I saw showboat when it came to the Twin Cities when I was like seven years old and I still remember "Ol' Man River." That stuff's just quality. I picked out "All Good Gifts" from Godspell and "Heaven on Their Minds" from Jesus Christ Superstar. I sang "All Good Gifts" for my high school's production of Godspell and I've been a huge JC Superstar fan since I was young. The one role I've always wanted to play in any theatre is Judas. That role is so interesting and complex, not to mention the showcase of vocal talent it allows.

A friend turned me onto this guy who plays under the name Bon Iver. It's pronounced Frenchly, as it's French. I've never heard anything like it. He recorded it in the wilderness of Wisconsin in a log cabin. Picture a mix between Iron & Wine and TV on the Radio. It's absolutely beautiful stuff. "Skinny Love" shakes me everytime I hear. I immediatly ordered the album and it showed up in my mailbox a couple days ago. It's irresistable.

I've been equally addicted to Saul Williams as of late. He's a beat poet with a degree in drama. He's entrancing. I read his book, ", said the shotgun to the head," and I'm in the process of reading "The Dead Emcee Scrolls." His other two, "She" and "The Seventh Octave," are waiting for me on my shelves. This guy's amazing. His word choices are so incredibly spot on, and his flow is haunting.

The new Iron & Wine is phenomnal as well. Sam Beam has grown so much since his first album that it's hard to even compare them.

I'll be in Northfield with my brother (from another family) tomorrow, which will be nice. I have seen him in over a month.

I accidentally put a pen in with my laundry a couple day ago. Now, I'm the first to wear interestingly decorated clothing, but even I have to turn down ink spots. My pants are okay, it doesn't look that weird, but it really trashed a couple shirts and a sweater. I love my clothes, so this has been really bugging me.

English Literature had it's advantages.