Skipping past Writober and Nanoblomo . . ? Shit, I dunno. I'm as bored as you are.
Friday, June 15, 2007
Maybe There Can be an Orchestra of Acoustic Guitar-Wielding Old Men
I know you’re not coming here for positive reinforcement, or positivity in general. Or anything on par with “optimism.” So I’m just gonna come right out and say it.
I fucking HATE The Eagles.
Like, I don’t actively care about who’s better between the Beatles and the Stones, although I recognize their intrinsic value to pop/musical culture. And, seriously, I put Elvis on about the same level as Avril Lavigne. Sure, the “artists” I rail about incessantly (e.g., Blues Traveler, Jimmy Buffett) are as bad or worse, but The Eagles are OMNIPRESENT. If I have to listen to the radio, they’re bound to pop up anywhere.* The “classic rock” station. The “adult contemporary” station. And it’s always the LIVE version of “Hotel California,” too. Oooooh, so all 14 of you old fuckers sat around with acoustic guitars in front of an audience and that makes it UPDATED?
The tipping point was when I was just at CVS picking up Father’s Day cards. And there was a muzak version of “Hotel California.” Which was an improvement.
* I’m now defaulting to our college station . . . even when Mia’s in the car. Because there’s not a station on the dial that hasn’t been INFECTED with country music. It’s insidious.
Misanthropy • Music • (6) Comments closed • Permalink
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
I Told You So!
Yeah, this marks a week since that last post. Or, last two posts. I’ve been trying to mentally counterbalance my motivation against my “hope” to post every day against my fear of posting trivial bullshit that I’m not even interested in reading. So . . . it’s a Mexican Standoff of mental counterbalancing.
Anyway, the past several days, I’ve run into things I could have made a short post about, but didn’t. You know what that means: The Bulleted List of Belated Reflection® (
with bonus Fun Footnotes)!
- Michelle happened to be in the living room while “Heroes” was on the other night. “I wish I hadn’t stopped watching this now.” “. . .” “I thought it was going to be cheesy.” So, maybe Michelle will start watching it with me when the show comes back . . . ON JANUARY 22. Jesus.
- BTW, I just sent Erin this text message: “Rome is back next month, Hooker.”
- The Iraq Study Group released its report today, and Bill Kristol was quick to call it “irresponsible.” Really? More irresponsible, say, than invading another country under false pretenses with no plan on how to rebuild the country once you’ve completely fucked it up? Or provoking more bloodshed than 9/11 (of Americans alone)? Basically, just shitting the bed. Really, why should I be worried about how George W. Bush is remembered? Let’s mourn the poor Iraqis before his God-forsaken legacy.
- I’ve come to terms with the whole band-breaking-up thing . . . a little. And I’ve admitted that, when you boil it down, I’m assigning blame because I have to blame somebody. In discussing this with my friend (and former bandmate), I was chastised for having a super-secret blog (when I doubt he really reads THIS blog . . . like most of you on The Internets) that I can hide behind. So, I thought I’d post (vaguely) my feelings here . . . in the open. . . If you’re going to join a band, you can’t be overly sensitive. The combination of “strangely creative” and “boring/vanilla personality” is great. But if you’re called to carpet for something you may have done, or if you’re somewhat put off by the actions of one of your bandmates, you shouldn’t chart a course to Oblivion on your first impulse. No-one thinks any less of you until you do or say something you can’t take back. And speaking of “backs,” try not to stab anyone in theirs. (God help us if you’re accused of something even semi-horrible, because you might blow up like Radioactive Guy on “Heroes” is going to. Not calling anyone a “Hero,” either, Champ.)
- My Lefty office-neighbor has been openly curious about people’s reactions to my “F the President” bumper sticker. (This is, of course, a parody of the “W the President” stickers that I really can’t make fun of enough.) Anyway, I’ve forgotten it’s there a lot of the time because I usually don’t get much of any reaction. Then I went to visit my father (a fairly hardcore dittohead), who immediately launched into a diatribe that began with, “Al Qaeda is taking over the fucking WORLD!” and ended with an ad hominem attack on Clinton (not specified which). I rebutted with, “Perhaps the Republicans should stop selling out our country to lobbyists.” Then we called a silent truce. Yesterday, at Mia’s preschool, I was parked next to a large, white SUV I’d noticed before as having the beloved “W” sticker. The woman was loading her kid into the car as I backed passed her, and I think she noticed my sticker. I don’t think she’ll be able to look me in the face again.
- I’m currently reading Dog Days by Wonkette Emeritus Ana Marie Cox, even though she was greatly disparaged by a favorite former blogger during Pre-Thanksgiving dinner in Atlanta. Now, I’m not a huge fan of Ms. Cox per se, but I did like Wonkette quite a bit when she was there. That said, the book is enthusiastically average. And, as I’ve said many times in the past, reading something average (or worse) will do lots to inspire you to write.
- Seriously, this is what pisses me off the most about the Iraq thing: Here’s a guy of limited intellectual capacity, who wasn’t even really elected president (the first time, which puts in doubt his legitimacy in 2004, too), irrevocably fucking things up in the Middle East and shitting all over our great nation’s reputation as a benevolent, diplomatic Partner in Peace. Decades from now, historians will look back, point their fingers at the year 2000, and collectively utter, “This . . . THIS is where shit started going wrong.” You think that our country and the world would be worse off had Al Gore been elected president (or, rather had his victory recognized by the Supreme Court)? Well, guess AGAIN, Captain Neocon! Your fearless leader will go down in history as worse than Nixon . . . even worse than the worst president you can think of (i.e., Jimmy Carter).
- Monday is Michelle’s birthday. Saturday is her office’s Christmas dinner. And Sunday we’re going to brunch with family and dinner with friends. So there will be three dinners in a row at above-average Tallahassee eateries. Nice restaurants, even. I’d expect some kind of fun review/comparison-related post if I were you, The Internets. Pictures, too.