Warning: Even for Adam, this post is offensive. Don’t let your children read it unless you want to explain to them lots of things that you don’t want to explain to them. Trust me.

Adam Lambert kissed a guy at the American Music Awards.

Oh sweet Jesus, what has happened to this country and humanity? Ever since I heard about this gay kiss on TV, I’ve been having gay sex with as many men as I can find to do it with. The conservatives were right! Now that it’s been brought to my attention that there are gays in the world, and that man Adam Lambert kissed that other man without the fires of Hell consuming both of them on the spot, our entire country is in the toilet! No one will ever marry someone of the opposite sex again! Our kids will grow up to be big old gay queer homosexuals. Men doing men. Women doing women. All along, we had only been heterosexual because we thought it was what God wanted. But now… now I don’t know what to think. If God hates gays, why didn’t He make an example of that lewd, sexual, oh-so-wrong but oh-so-right behavior that left us all with a strange tingling sensation in our pants? Why didn’t He have the stage lights fall on those two sinners, not killing them, but making them realize the effects their behavior would have on us, thereby alerting them that the choice they made to be gay was bad, and turning them straight? Instead, He let it slide, like either He accepts everyone for who they are, or He doesn’t exist. Damn you, God. Damn you to Hell!

It’s readily apparent that now that we’ve all been subjected to this gay kiss, and simulation of oral sex (Satan’s Delight, as I like to call it) on national TV, the world will soon be coming to an end. What’s to stop us from doing meth with gay hookers now? Nothing but those horrifying meth ads. Not even once. Maybe if they’d shown the reality of what being gay was like (“I’m only going to hold this guy’s hand once.” “I’m only going to kiss this guy once.” “I’m only going to have gay sex with this guy once.” “I’m only going to kiss a man on stage, simulate oral sex, and RUIN AMERICA once.”) we could have been spared this horrible fate. Not even once! But once is all it took. And now look at us. We’re having to explain to our children why two men would be kissing. It’s enough to make me want to cry. Or do coke off of a gay man’s erect penis.

If you haven’t completely blocked it from your memory, try to recall the horror that ensued after we all saw Janet Jackson’s breast at the Superbowl. I remember my fictional children asking me what that part was, and how uncomfortable it was for me to have to tell them that though every woman has two of them, and they’re what has fed children and entertained both men and women in the bedroom for as long as people have been around, and that they’re FILTHY, DISGUSTING parts of the human body. My children’s fictional eyes bled, they vomited dust. It was horrifying. Myself, I was sent away for two years to recover in a mental institution.

But “Bravo!” to Good Morning America for canceling Lambert’s performance the next day. Obviously those theatrics at a huge awards show performance would have only empowered him to bring his pornographic act to 8am morning shows that no one watches. I’m glad our housewives and elderly were spared what would surely have been unprotected, spontaneous anal sex on stage, while singing filthy gay songs. It’s a good thing GMA had the sense to stand up and say “No! We will not have your homosexual antics on our family friendly morning show.” At least one television program is standing up for our moral values: We don’t talk to our kids about sex, we treat the human body like it’s a filthy thing to be ashamed of, and we care more deeply about what other people do than raising our own children and living our own lives.

Look, I’m just following the example of Ted Haggard and other religious leaders all over the world here. We all know the Bible was written by God to get us away from being homosexual. It’s the most important thing in the book! Deutoronomy 3:15 “Don’t be banging on no queers, because that shit ain’t right and it’ll lead to the downfall of humanity. Love Jesus.” It’s been clearly established that marriage is between a man and a woman, and not two gays, because if gays can get married, what incentive do we have to be straight? Just look at all the priests molesting those young boys. Politicians soliciting gay sex in bathrooms. If we could just shove homosexuality back in the closet where it belongs, and cover up all our women from head to toe, can’t you just imagine what a great society we’d be living in? Our heterosexuality safely locked in place, and our women subservient and at home, we’d be a perfectly moral and happy society. Hell, we’d be Muslim. And just look at their perfectly functioning, utopian societies. Something we can all aspire to.

I try not to say bad things about people I know. It's petty and gossipy and doesn't accomplish anything, but the hell with all that. There's a guy in my Literary Criticisms class that I just don't like. All I'll say about him is encapsulated in this sentence I jotted down in my notebook: "There are times when he makes a point and I don't understand what the fuck it ties into."

This is a new habit of mine. Rather than just write notes from class, I'll throw in pieces of dialogue or random thoughts. Here's something someone said a few classes ago: "But it's TV, though. Who wants to see an ugly person?" Here's an aside from my literature class with the monotone/dull professor (who's gotten much better about showing some personality, actually): "He confuses a funeral scene with a wedding scene? Really?" Speaking of this professor, I've compiled a greatest-hits collection of his flat responses to interesting points people have made in class. My typing them out won't do this justice, as his delivery is totally what makes it, but here goes. "'Experience.' Hmm..." "Well, there's something..." "That's for sure, yes..." And then, of course, the old standby: "Okay."

Tomorrow, I'm heading back to Virginia. Adam, you should ride the coattails of your triumphant return and entertain these nice people while I'm gone. Have a good Thanksgiving, everyone.

Yes, as Brian has pointed out, I have been long absent from this here blog. I would explain why, but the government has asked that I not detail my exact whereabouts and whatabouts for the past week or two or however long it's been. (I could check to see how long it's been, but that would require clicking on a couple of things, and really, who has time for that? It's much easier to write long winded parentheticals explaining why I'm too lazy to do something that would take half as long as what I'm actually doing.) You wouldn't believe it, though. That paragraph from Brian's last post, for me to copy and paste, I had pretty much written that entire thing verbatim and then checked the blog, and went "Damn you, Brian! How well you know me!" So I scratched that and am writing this. Whatever this is.

So, to herald my return, I would like to present you with two lists of four things that bother me. I came up with these lists at work on November 17. I thought you should know that because it proves that I think about updating this at work, but then when I get home, I forget for five days. So:

Things that bother me in the bathroom at work:

1. Putting the toilet paper on top of the roll when you need a new one:
Okay, so you use up the last of the toilet paper on the roll. It's okay. We all do that sometimes. And, you showed either the foresight to bring a new roll into the bathroom with you, or the follow-through to walk over to the closet after you were done using the bathroom and get a new roll. But how lazy do you have to be to not put the roll on the... roller. Or whatever. Maybe you don't understand how to get the thing off to reinstall the new roll. You just have to push one side of the roller in, and it'll go into itself, and you can slide it right out. Then you put the roll of toilet paper on the roller, push the side back in, and press it back into place. Pretty cool, huh?

2. Putting the toilet paper on so the roll comes under instead of over:
I've never understood why people put the roll back on so that the end of the roll comes out from under, instead of coming over the top. If anyone can please explain why you like to make it harder on yourself to get the toilet paper you want, please let me know in the comments section below. Seriously. I'm interested.

3. Using all the paper towels and not replacing them:
I do realize that we work in a huuuuge office, and walking from one extreme side to the other requires about 15 seconds of your time. So I totally understand how you might not think you have enough time to go get more paper towels from the closet. Hell, by the time you walk over to the closet, which is on the far side of the office, get the paper towels, and walk back to the bathroom, you'll have wasted damn near 45 seconds out of your busy day. But those of us who use the bathroom after you don't particularly like wiping our hands on our pants, so if using nearly a full minute of your time to refill the paper towels bothers you ethically so much, feel free to stay a minute late after work to make up the time. But restock the paper towels.

4. Getting water all over the counter:
Who are you? Why don't you know how to wash your hands? There's like a big bowl with a hole in it in the middle of the counter. That's called the "sink." The idea is to get the water in the sink. The soap is outside of the sink, but you can grab the soap without dumping ten gallons of water all over the counter by... well, by being a normal person. Same for when you go to dry your hands afterward. I've never seen so much water everywhere, so consistently.


Things that bother me at concerts:

1. Showing up late and jockeying to get the best spot in the house:
Show up on time, watch the opening acts, or accept your place in the back behind the seven foot tall man with a two foot afro.

2. Talking:
Why do you pay upwards of 30 bucks to go talk over really loud music? You can do that at home for free. Or, as an alternative, you can talk in a normal voice over no music. Either way, to those of us who actually paid money to listen to the music, your talking is really rude and annoying.

3. Wearing the shirt you just bought:
I don't know why, but there's something totally lame about going to the front and paying $30 for a shirt, then putting it on like you're some kind of super fan. Really, if you were a fan of the band, you would have had a shirt coming in. Or, you'd just not wear the band's shirt, like a normal person. We all know who you're here to see. Wear a shirt that tells us who else you like.

4. Scene kids:
Cut your hair, buy clothes that fit, and listen to music because you like the music, not the style.

I'll try to not be gone for so long between this award winning post and the next. And I will continue not using hyphens between words and phrases that should be hypenated. That's Brian's job around here.

Yo, Adam:

Who uses the word "yo" anymore? (This isn't really what I wanted to ask you.) Where ya been? I just wanted to check in and make sure there's still a co-author to this blog. Left entirely in my hands, this thing would probably contain too many of the following: Pauly Shore references, embedded asides (like that's not getting old. [Who didn't see that one coming? (Everyone saw it coming.)]), and long, strung-together-with-hyphens words. And no one wants that. So, what I've done is I've written a response you can copy, paste, then edit as either a comment or as a new post entirely.

(Begin copying here.)

Yo, Brian:

Whuzzuppppp???!1! I still use the word "yo," that's who. And I turned into a 14-year-old wanna-be-skater-douche. Readers will be able to tell I didn't write this response myself because of all those long, strung-together-with-hyphens words there. When did you pick up that habit, anyway?

Sorry I've been absent for a while. I've just been so busy (with work / being sick / in my wildly successful relationship with a cool, funny, attractive girl who doesn't already have a boyfriend for once). But I'll get back to the (old-man rants / discography analyzes / 14-year-old wanna-be-skater-douche rants) soon. Check it out, yo!!!!!!!!

;-)

(End copying here.)

Seriously, though, I hope everything's all right. Shoot me an email or something.

There's a bit I've been meaning to do here for the past couple of weeks, but I keep forgetting when I actually get around to posting an update. So if I don't add it now, I'll probably forget for another week or two. Thus, I present to you...

If I Could Go Back and Edit Some Lyrics

(Not the catchiest title, admittedly, but it gets the point across.)

How many times has this happened to you? You're singing along to a song you have completely memorized, yet you instinctively sing a different word than the one you know is coming up. Annoying, right? Therefore, rather than just learn to sing the correct word, I think it's easier to imagine going back into the past and editing the lyrics so that they end up the way you sing them. Here are some examples of how I'd use this power:

Filmmaker's "Breathing Room"
Original line: Lipstick smiles touched to parting lips.
Brian's edit: Lipstick smiles pressed to parting lips.
Reason for the edit: Alliteration! "Pressed/parting" is better than "touched/to," right? Plus, girls (or guys!) press their lips together when applying lipstick, not touch their lips together. Duh.

The Beatles' "All You Need is Love"
Original line: Nothing you can do, but you can learn how to be you in time.
Brian's edit: Nothing you can do, but you'll learn how to be you in time.
Reason for the edit: It's a great line as is, but let's be honest: Given the right amount of time, you WILL learn how to be you. It's not really something that "can" or "cannot" happen. It will. Sorry, John.

Red House Painters' "Have You Forgotten?"
Original line: Sat back in a chair like a princess from a faraway place.
Brian's edit: Sat back in a chair like a princess from a faraway lair.
Reason for the edit: The other verses contain a nice AA, BB pattern. (Actually, there's one other instance where it doesn't maintain the rhyme scheme, but whatever.) So let's keep the rhyming alive with "chair" and "lair." Come on!

Rocky Votolato's "A Discourse on Killing"
Original line: I wanna hit somebody with a baseball bat. Break his fucking knees and take pleasure in it.
Brian's edit: I wanna hit somebody with a baseball bat. Break his fucking knees and take pleasure in that.
Reason for the edit: Again, comes down to the rhyme. Seriously? "It?" Rocky, what were you thinking? "That" is a gimme.

What about you? What lyrics would you change, given the ability to harness this amazing power?

Well, howdy. It's been a while, yeah? Everyone have a good weekend? Mine was good. It was nice to see Ashley and Yannos again. Weather was kind of shitty, but, once they left, it turned gorgeous. Figures.

Sarah Palin's memoir comes out today. Part of me actually wants to read it. Well, some of it. I know there's no way I could get through the whole book. But I feel obligated to read at least some of it if I'm going to slam her over it. However, that guilt isn't enough to motivate me to actually sit down and read "Going Rogue." Thing is, I kind of feel bad for Sarah Palin. I like the idea of the independent woman who does what she wants and works hard. That's the picture the conservatives depict. But I don't like that she really seems to work against any sort of issues related to women and their advancement. Not to mention the fact that some of the things she's said have been beyond stupid. This is what the liberals like the focus on. To me, Palin was living a simple life of good-time-y conservative values when, all of a sudden, she got swept into something way bigger than she could've imagined: the media. They tore her apart. Granted, some of that was by her own hand, but I kind of feel like she was a character in one of those Greek tragedies where the gods have conspired against an individual and sit back and relish in that person's demise. That said, I disagree with her political beliefs and am incredibly happy she is not the current vice president. Also, watching that 2008 political campaign unfold was entertainingly funny-in-a-sad-way. But I kind of feel sorry for her, that's all. Just not enough to read her book.

Last week in my Literary Criticisms class, we discussed race. One of the essays we read was by Charles Taylor, a Canadian philosopher. He talked about two mentalities we could adopt to move forward toward equality: one is the politics of equal dignity, the other is the politics of difference. They're pretty self-explanatory, but here goes: on the one hand you eliminate any sort of dividers and treat everyone the same (equal dignity), and on the other hand you embrace these dividers but don't place a precedent on the "good life" (difference). Admittedly, both of these options seem too idealistic to me, but, if I had to choose one, I'd go with equal dignity. I arrived at this conclusion over the weekend. We had lunch with Yannos' sister on Saturday, and, later in the afternoon, she mentioned that a gay, lesbian, and transgendered high school recently opened up in the city. It made me realize the problem I have with the politics of difference: by having those separate categories, I don't think it's ever possible to truly transcend those divisions. By putting gay, lesbian, and transgendered people in their own high school, doesn't it ostracize them further? I don't know what it's like for them to go to school in a "normal" high school -- I expect they might get teased/bullied -- and I don't mean to presume that it's no big deal. But taking them out of that environment and placing them in their own self-contained high school doesn't seem like the way to go. It's a temporary solution for a situation that needs major change. And it seems to me that the best way to get these ignorant homophobic-fucks to accept gay, lesbian, and transgendered people is to force them to interact with one another. Show them that, hey, they have similar teenage problems like you. That, hey, they're not going around trying to convert people to the "gay lifestyle." That, hey, maybe they're not really all that different at all. Instead of quarantining them in an entirely new place where there's no hope for any sort of fruitful interaction whatsoever. But who knows.

Have you visited Daytrotter recently? Lucero is the band of the day. You've heard me and Adam mention their awesome live show, now check them out for yourself. They have three cuts from the new album, 1372 Overton Park, and a re-recording of "That Much Further West." With horns. Neat stuff. If you haven't heard the original version of "That Much Further West," I'd still very much recommend checking it out, but this version is a fine introduction to the song. It's a great little ditty.

This comedy story is driving me insane. I'm officially submitting it tomorrow morning/afternoon, but, until then, I'm going nuts trying to edit it.

Yannos and Ashley are visiting this weekend. Visitors! Exciting! Exclamation point! Have a good weekend, everyone.

Can I just say that, for how easy it is to make, grilled cheese shouldn't taste so good. Thirty seconds of preparation, five minutes of grilling/toasting, and bam! Delicious.

So, I finished that story I was talking about earlier. Sure enough, it came out to 21 pages. And I might add more, I'm not sure. Depends on what kind of comments I get from workshop. It's only the second strictly-comedy piece I've written, and I have a few observations: One, what's up with this being only my second comedy piece? Considering my non-stop-laugh-riot-fest (copyright) work on this blog, you'd think I'd try more funny stories. But no, everything's always so damn serious. Which might have something to do with point number two: Writing comedy is an unnecessarily difficult process. Something about combining the n-s-l-r-f (copyright) with a story = a massive amount of work. It's a lot easier to wax poetic about the injustices of the world. Three: After reading over my story countless times, I can't even tell anymore what's funny and what's not. Everything blurs together in this stale blah-ness. It was fresh when I first wrote it, but not much to the story feels fresh anymore. Maybe that's why so many comedies seem weaksauce? Now, this isn't to say that I dislike my story. I'm fond of it, in its own special I-made-this way, I just can't decide what's not-funny enough to cut. It's a lot harder to revise comedy. With a serious piece, I can tell when a sentence flops. But with comedy... Well, we'll see what the critics say.

Here's two more of these career retrospectives. They're longer. I'll take a break after these and get back to writing things to piss people off.

Foo Fighters – Their first album may be their most interesting, but it’s certainly not their best. You’d be hard pressed to relate any of it to the music that the Foos are putting out today, but that’s kind of what’s nice about it. It feels like what it was: Dave Grohl’s post-Nirvana album. It’s not all that great, but there are definitely some standout tracks that would set the stage for what to expect from their next album. That next album is one of the best straight-up rock and roll albums ever made, The Colour and the Shape. It spawned hits like My Hero, Monkey Wrench, and Everlong, which is one of the best rock songs ever written. Aside from its singles are awesome songs that run the range from punk to acoustic, and everything between. It’s a tremendously varied album, and, as I’ve said before, the Foos have recently tried to “re-write” it by mixing acoustic and rock songs, but it feels strained now, where here it seemed effortless. They followed up this classic with their second best, and by far mellowest album, There is Nothing Left to Lose. The hit off of this one was Learn to Fly, and that song pretty much is the tone of the album. Still rock, but softer than before, the album is still a pleasant listen, even if as far as I can tell, it didn’t have nearly as many hits as their other albums. After this one, though, the band stepped into a trap called “sameyness.” One By One could have been called One By One Note, as it featured nothing but big arena rock choruses and filler verses, as seen by songs like All My Life, and Times Like These. But I give Dave credit for saying it’s his least favorite album: "Four of the songs were good, and the other seven I never played again in my life.” That’s about right. Then came the double album, All My Life, which should have been a single album with the best acoustic and rock songs mixed together. Instead, we’re treated to an album of big arena rock songs extremely similar to the ones on One By One, and an album of acoustic numbers that for the most part never take off. Most recently, we’re treated to more of the same middle of the road, middle aged rock on Echoes Silence Patience and Grace, which is a terrible title for an album.

Weezer – We all know that Weezer is a shell of its former self. But the Blue Album was so good, and so fun. Post Pinkerton, Weezer would never record a song as touching as Say It Ain’t So, so weird as Undone, so nostalgic as Buddy Holly. Every song on the album offers something instantly appealing and catchy, and it’s definitely one of the classic albums to come out of the 90’s. They followed it up with Pinkerton, a criminally underappreciated album that can basically be blamed for the death of Weezer as we knew it. You’d be hard pressed to show me an album that’s more emotionally bare and honest, while still being musically diverse and upbeat. I don’t know why the album flopped so badly on its release. El Scorcho is a great, weird song, but there were songs that could easily have been singles aside from that one: Getchoo, or Why Bother, for example. And songs that probably couldn’t have been singles like Pink Triangle and Across the Sea are so unbelievably good that it’s hard to believe people never latched onto this album. The result was Rivers laying his soul bare to the world and being rejected. He ran into hiding for five years, and he would never be the same. When the Green Album finally came out, I was so excited to hear a new Weezer album that I was blinded to the fact that it was a completely empty, bubblegum pop album. It’s still my third favorite Weezer album, but it’s a distant third. At least it’s catchy as hell, something that can’t be said for subsequent albums. There are no real standout tracks because, well, they all pretty much sound the same. Maladroit was worse, but still had some good songs on it. It also had some complete shit, for the first time. Then came the awful turd named Make Believe, which featured parts of good songs, but no real winners, and the worst song Weezer ever wrote, “Beverly Hills.” It was an awful album with hardly any redeemable features, and had I not enjoyed Pork and Beans off of the Red Album, I would have been done with the band entirely. The Red Album was at least better than that godawful abortion that was Make Believe, but it didn’t have much staying power with me, and the fact that Rivers handed half the album over to his bandmates made the album sound less like a Weezer album (which at this point might not be a bad thing), and made me think that Rivers was finally creatively bankrupt. I haven’t gotten the recently released Raditude, and I’m not sure I will. My longing for a return to two of the most wonderful albums I’ve ever heard has taken me through four middling entries, and I think my good will towards the band may have finally run out.

How about them Broncos?

Two things I forgot to mention yesterday. One: (and I can't believe I forgot, because it was awesome) at the "house show," Rocky Votolato played a cover of Cat Steven's "Father and Son." And two: CNN recently revamped their website. I really don't like the new look. At all. Thus, I have the impetus to finally drop CNN and pick up BBC News. It's amazing how the BBC doesn't seem to ever mention Jon and Kate. Instead, one of their main stories today is how everyone's favorite wrinkly-faced curmudgeon, Rupert Murdoch, wants to ban Google from using his company's news stories in search results. This precedes an eventual charge-for-content platform that Murdoch is planning for all of his news websites. So, hmmm. Jon and Kate, or Rupert Murdoch suppressing Google for his own financial gain in a move that could be highly-influential in the future of accessing information on the internet? One of these seems slightly more important than the other.

But that's not even the point I wanted to make. CNN's new design features two main stories right at the top of the page, accompanied with pictures. And any time I see two pictures/headlines right next to each other, I get all excited to look for...

Instances of Awkward or Unfortunate Juxtapositions

Highlights from the past week (in no particular order): calling Montezuma an asshole in my Literary Criticisms class; repeatedly using (and hearing other people repeatedly use) the term "shit storm" in my post-modern fiction class; the Rocky Votolato "house show" (more on this); reading the first 150 pages of Haruki Murakami's A Wild Sheep Chase in one day (I haven't read that much of a book in such a short amount of time in who-knows how long. If you look it up on Amazon, you can read the first 20 pages or so); building a tolerance to colder weather; working on a new short story -- a comedy -- that's already 12 pages long and could top-out at around 20 (I haven't written anything that long in who-knows how long); having my own completely unique (and kind of crazy) interpretation of a story we read in my workshop class; getting to stream Netflix movies on my Playstation 3 (aka Rock Band machine); connecting pieces of lower-Manhattan in my mental map of the city; becoming a pro at editing people's grad school essays; texting with Anne Marie (it's a start -- to a relationship, to friendship, who knows, but it's a start); finishing a four-page story where one of the characters only speaks in Beatles' lyrics; the beginning of year number six since my dad died.

Re: this last point. Time is crazy, huh? I've known Yannos and Ashley for six years now. Jesse for seven. The majority of my high school friends for nine or ten. Adam for some ridiculous double-digit (20?). How is it possible that so much time has passed? And why does it always feel weird/surprising to realize that? When I think about it, those times feel like years ago. But somehow putting a concrete number to it makes the feeling all the more surreal. Then, looking to the future: 25 is a quarter of a century, but it feels more like the half-way point, to me. I'll be honest: I don't expect to live long. I'll be lucky to make it to 60. Given family history and personal disposition, old age just doesn't feel like it's gonna happen. I'd be more than happy to be wrong about this, but I'm doubtful.

Okay, I didn't intend for this to turn into a major bummer. The point being: enjoy the time you're here. Which is why I went to see Rocky Votolato in a small, 50-person show. Just him, his acoustic guitar, and a harmonica. No amps, no speakers, just his guitar and his voice. It was incredible. He played four or five songs from his forthcoming album (they sound good), as well as a bunch of great tunes from the back catalog: "Portland is Leaving," "White Daisy Passing," "Alabaster," "Goldfield" (he said he doesn't play this one live too frequently, which is a shame. It's one of my favorites), "Tinfoil Hats," "Silver Trees." Then he opened it up for requests, which he admitted "always gets me in trouble, because I don't know how to play very many of my own songs." And, indeed, during the first request, "The Night's Disguise," he had to stop, turn around, and figure out how the rest of the song went. Pretty funny. After "The Night's Disguise," he played "Makers," "Suicide Medicine," and "Montana." A fantastic show.

Something I've been kicking around for a while is little summaries of bands' careers that I've followed from beginning to end. So here are three of them:

Thursday – Like many bands, Thursday’s debut was a rough outline of what was to come. Muddled production didn’t help, and the sound wasn’t quite there yet. Their second album, Full Collapse was an album that created an entire genre of music. If not created, at least popularized. From start to finish, it was an experience, bookended by electronic sounds, filled with fantastic lyrics and pained screams, memorable sections of songs, spoken word, and layered, lush guitars. It was an impossible album to eclipse, but Thursday’s complete failure to even get close is disappointing. Aside from the description above, the album benefitted from two things: low expectations and good production, highlighting the unique strengths of the band. Their next album, War All the Time, was solid, with a few exceptional songs, but it didn’t have the overall strength of its predecessor, and the production started “cleaning” up, which did not help the band. This only got worse on A City by the Light Divided, which, as you may be able to tell from its highfalutin title, was supposed to be (according to them on their live DVD) the album the band had always wanted to make. It was completely forgettable, and found the band sounding like a band that listened to Thursday growing up, trying and failing to emulate them. The songs weren’t catchy or powerful, and a big part of that was because of the production, which completely missed the point of the band. Guitars dulled and ran into each other, and everything generally sounded muddy and boring, and by this point Geoff’s voice had gotten “good,” to the detriment of the band’s sound. I figured this was the end of Thursday, but then there came some hope with the new stuff on their B-sides album and their split with Envy. The split in particular showed the band simultaneously maturing and getting back to the sound that served them so well on Full Collapse. With my expectations set high, the band released Common Existence, an album that I listened to maybe twice. I guess there’s always next time, but I may not be there to hear it.

Thrice – Identity Crisis was a rough version of the band that would go on to release the breathtakingly hard yet catchy The Illusion of Safety. Thrice would never sound this good again, suffering from some of the same problems that faced Thursday: poor production and high expectations. Subsequent albums took the blazing lead guitar from Safety and buried it under rhythm guitar and bass, and the edge disappeared from Dustin’s voice. It also didn’t help that Thrice lost their edge. The harder punk band from the first two albums mellowed out and produced albums full of similar sounding songs. The Artist in the Ambulance may have suffered from too-high expectations, but it also suffered because it lacked any songs that punched you in the gut like we’d come to expect. Vheissu was forgettable, and The Alchemy Index, while a cool idea, was ultimately too expensive and bogged down by double-album syndrome. There were some songs, particularly on the Fire album, that tried to get back to what I liked most about the band, but the Water album was almost entirely forgettable, and the best stuff off of Air and Earth reminded me of a weaker version of Dustin’s surprisingly good solo album. That said, it’s probably the coolest vinyl concept that I own, with each album on an appropriately colored 10” in a book that has all the lyrics and notes about each song. If only the music was that awesome.

No Use For A Name – This band reached a great three album apex with Leche Con Carne, Making Friends, and More Betterness. Leche was great straight up punk, Making Friends saw the band becoming more melodic, and More Betterness brought the band into pop punk territory fully, but did it with great songs and great lyrics. Then the band hit Hard Rock Bottom (excuse the pun), and slummed through that album, a mediocre live album, and the completely forgettable, one-note Keep Them Confused. Luckily, last year’s The Feel Good Record of the Year was a nice step back towards being relevant for the band, with songs that actually sounded different, and included different instruments. You can only play the same poppy punk songs for so many albums before you need to change something or fade away, and that album changed just enough without losing the band’s sound. Here’s hoping that the next album keeps the momentum going and doesn’t become “40 Year Olds Trying to Play Punk, but They Don’t Really Like It Anymore, Part III” (see Hard Rock and Confused for parts I and II).

I'll probably do more of these in the future, because while I realize that no one who reads this aside from Brian has probably ever listened to a single song by any of these bands, it's kind of fun to write and trace a band's high and low points.

People need to get off Michael Vick’s ass. He wasn’t strangling dogs or cutting out their insides when they were alive. He provided a house in which his family and friends fought dogs. He didn’t run over anyone while drunk driving. He didn’t assault anyone. He didn’t get arrested for carrying ridiculous amounts of weapons into stupid places. But he served more jail time than anyone else in sports who did those things. If you think dogs have more value than people, you’re wrong and you may be retarded. You might want to get checked.

Speaking of which, I don’t think I’ve talked about how much I dislike militant vegetarians, or especially vegans. Let me start by saying that my mom is a vegetarian, and I know lots of people who are normal people who don’t eat meat because they don’t like it, they want to be healthier, or even they think killing animals for food is wrong. That’s all fine and good. What bothers me is when people who don’t eat meat judge people who do. Like there’s something unnatural about eating meat, even though any animal with sharp enough teeth does it. And they don’t do it in a nice, caring way, either. Generally they seem to run after the weakest animal they can find, rip out its throat while it’s still alive, and proceed to eat it while it lays there bleeding in the sun, abandoned by its loved ones, forgotten by history, its bloated rotting corpse stripped bare by predators, scavengers, and maggots. And yet, by eating meat, I’m somehow a bad person, when we raise these animals, feed them, love them, feed them, feed them, and then slice their heads off, carve them up, and eat them. I’m not saying it’s a great thing. Sure, it’d be fantastic if we could all live off of our own bodies and never have to eat anything that was alive. It would also be fantastic if we never had to sleep, if we all got along, and if no one ever wanted for anything.

I think my point is, while slaughtering animals for food isn’t pretty, what the hell else are we supposed to do? Lethally inject them? We can’t let them die of natural causes because nobody wants to eat nasty old animal meat. It seems like slaughtering them the way we do is more humane than the “natural” way that animals get eaten, as described so poetically above. Militant veggies do realize that animals all die anyway, right? Do they think that animals would live forever and grant us all serenity and happiness if only we would stop eating them? We need the nutrients that eating meat gives us if we want to be healthy. Plus, they’re fucking delicious! Bacon? Hamburgers? Bacon burgers? Chicken burgers with bacon? Turkey? Turkey bacon? It’s all so good. So, really, if you want to be a vegetarian, more power to you! But you’re never going to get people to stop eating meat. It’s too good, it’s too important, and most of all, I’m pretty sure that the Bible, which describes the absolutely, 100% true tales of the One True God and His Boy Jesus and Their Dog Astro, and is not to be read as a parable, but as a nonfiction account written by the Lord Himself on High, tells us we should eat animals. So, PETA, why do you hate God?

As far as what I did on Halloween, I can sum it up in one word: Nothing.

Des (who is now our third follower, let’s all give her a round of applause) burned me a CD by a band called The XX, and I’m digging it. I’m pretty sure it’s going to get played every night when I’m going to sleep for quite a while. I wouldn’t listen to it when I want to be energized, but there’s something nice about their little sound, though I feel like a lot of the songs cut off before they should. I guess I’d rather have that (I call it Neko Case Syndrome) than songs that go way over long.

Oh, and digital only releases are bullshit. I hate having to spend money on a computer file. You hear me, Audra Mae? Also, if you’re going to include a bonus track on a certain format, wouldn’t it make sense to include it on either the CD or the vinyl, and not the fucking ITunes? You hear me, Lawrence Arms? Lagwagon? And every other band that’s pulling this bullshit? If you want to reward people with a bonus track, which I assume is the point of a bonus track, shouldn’t you reward people who are still buying your music in physical format? Those of us who love you enough to want to hold your music in our hands, look at the cover art, read the liner notes, read the lyrics, etc? Instead of some faceless asshat who doesn’t give a shit? I guess I’m becoming the crazy old man who still types on a typewriter instead of a computer with this stuff, but it’s sad for me to see the way the music industry is going.

I'm sitting here listening to an All Hallows Eve (Dance) Mix Ben made (check it out! He said the link should work for about a week. So act soon!) and I'm eating some MONSTERous grapes. (Okay, they're not that big. But they are big grapes.) Oh yeah, and it's Monday, November 2nd. All of this can only mean one thing: It's time for me to talk about Halloween!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let's just pretend that this was more topical/on-time.

Friday night I saw Jude Law in Hamlet. Very cool. I didn't really hear his first soliloquy because I was saying to myself, "Wow. Here's the guy I've seen in I Heart Huckabees and Gattaca and now here he is, in front of me, reciting Shakespeare. And he's going to keep it up for three hours! I should really shut up and listen to what he's saying." That's pretty much my interior monologue, verbatim.

Saturday night was an adventure. I got a last-minute ticket to the sold-out Get Up Kids show at Irving Plaza. Doors/show was at 9, so I decided to get downtown at 8:30, thinking I'd have plenty of time. I got off the subway at 14th St. and 7th Ave. (for you non-New Yorkers, this is about three avenues west and two blocks south of where I needed to be), only to surface and find myself in the middle of utter pandemonium. Since this was my first Halloween in the city, I was unfamiliar with the (annual?) Halloween parade. It goes along 6th Ave. (Again, for you non-New Yorkers: By going along 6th Ave, the parade prevented me from walking eastward. This was a problem.) Police officers assured me, though, that they were letting people cross over 6th at 15th St. and 19th St. On my walk to 15th St., it started to rain. And, of course, when I got there, they weren't letting people cross. Nor at 19th St. I decided that going north was a bad idea (the parade was heading north), so I turned around and walked south. I figured that if I reached the point where the parade began, I could then cut eastward. Thankfully, before I ended up walking way more than I had to, I realized that I could take the L (get this -- from the exact same stop I got off of originally!) one stop and exit on the east-side of 6th Ave. And that's how I was able to get to Irving Plaza. About forty minutes late. But I got there!

Thankfully, The Get Up Kids totally made up for my escapades. They came out dressed as characters from The Wizard of Oz: Matt Pryor was the Scarecrow, the keyboard player was the Cowardly Lion, the other guitarist was the Tin Man, the drummer was the Wicked Witch, and the bass player was Dorthy. They then proceeded to follow another Halloween tradition I was unfamiliar with: covering a whole album. Yeah, they played the entire Something to Write Home About album. It was incredible. I felt like the entire crowd was singing along. I don't know if I've ever been part of such an amazing crowd experience. After wrapping up the album, they played a couple songs from Guilt Show (still don't like those songs) and Four Minute Mile (very cool), and ended with an odd choice: "Walking on a Wire." I like the song, so I didn't mind, but I do find it an odd closer.

After the show, I walked to Times Square to see more people in costumes. The award for you-think-your-costume-is-original-but-it-really-isn't goes to the five or six guys I saw wearing banana outfits. What's this all about? Did I miss something? Two of the guys were right around the corner from each other, too. I also saw a couple people as Mario, Luigi, Peach, etc. One of the better costumes I saw was Lt. Dangle from Reno 911. That was pretty funny.

Anyway, check out Ben's party mix. Download it and save it for next year. It's cool.