Faith.
There isn't another word for it really. It's why I didn't bat an eyelash last week when a number of memory-impaired commentators, even in our own town, gave up hope. It's why three years ago I brought the trash talk with a Yankee fan friend of mine in a similar situation.
And it's why I knew that up 2-0 in the fifth with Lester on the mound that it was time to get my ass into Boston. It's why I knew that when someone on a cell phone in the crowd said that Papelbon was coming in to close the door on a 4-3 lead in the eighth that there was nothing to worry about.
It's not lost on me that I became more of a sports fan after I kicked my Catholicism habit. Selah. At least the Sox don't try to pollute the political discourse.
I rolled into Kenmore Station, a few blocks from the ballpark, at around 11. The riot cops were already making the blockade. "We're not," one of them insisted, "fucking around here"
Which is about as close to an admission I've heard that they fucked around last time. Three years ago a young woman was killed because some dipshit excuse for a police officer accepted an anti-riot weapon that he had no training for. It seemed the Boston PD was pissed at the fans for that.
"Get the fuck out of here," he said, and pointed in a direction. I started walking. Another cop said, "You can't go this way." and pointed back the way I came. The first cop had given the same instruction he'd given me to a group of students who I walked past, and then asked me what the fuck I was doing. The whole group of us were told to go around, down the alleyway
No comment.
I found a group of students, mostly from BU, all of whom came in under the same faulty assumption I'd had; that the area wouldn't be locked down until the seventh. And actually that may have been the best. I did see video later of some fans crossing the line and some officers crossing it as well. The group I was with were peaceful. We were loud, yes, but fortunately I managed to find the people who wouldn't be tipping cars and lighting fires. There were three hundred of us at first, and as people realized that they wouldn't be making it to anyplace with a tv screen, it grew. When the final out was recorded, we were on the move. At some point on Boylston Street a group near me was trying to remember the words to Tessie. That I could speak afterwards actually quite surprised me.
It was a fantastic wave. Most of us had grown up being told that we would never see it happen, and here we were, celebrating the second championship in four years. It was a shared high that would hurt no one so long as no one fucked it up. And I didn't witness a single person getting hurt or arrested. Given, I wasn't able to see what happened all over the city.
A mosh pit formed at the intersection of Boylston Street and Ipswitch. I found myself catching people taking (sic) stage dives from the Don't Walk sign. One or two didn't quite get the concept and jumped feet first and I had to catch them solo. Soon the crowd was moving me toward the streetlight.
Ok, so they didn't have to force the issue. Amazing view from up there. I raised my fist aloft, fell forward, and sprung outward. And a photographer from Northeastern managed to capture it.
I weigh surprisingly (to some) little for my size (which itself means I get more hands on me), so I got a pretty good ride out of it before my brother put my feet to the ground. Soon after the police came in on horseback and the crowd retreated up the block. I made a conscious decision to stay in the middle, where someone handed me an uprooted NO PARKING sign. I could only assume that he didn't think he was doing anything with it that was quite interesting enough, so the only logical thing to do was to clear a space in the crowd and balance it on my chin.
Obviously. Though oddly enough he seemed surprised.
High fives and hugs abound, from strangers in varying levels of sobriety. It was all about the love. Though I could be grasping for straws saying that. Whatever. It was a hell of a lot of fun, and from what I can tell, no one got hurt. An official rally rolls through at noon tomorrow Dropkick Murphys are playing.
Fuck yes.
If you're a baseball fan of any stripe, and even if you aren't, you gotta tip your hat/raise a glass to John Lester. A year ago he was diagnosed with lymphoma, and he came back to clinch the World Series. 5 2/3 innings of shutout ball. Might have lasted longer if Francona didn't have a quick hook. Excellent story.
And you know it's a good day in Boston when the Patriots pummeling a well respected Raiders team 52-7 to improve to 8-0 is the footnote in the sports page.
All in all? Well worth walking the 8 miles back home after the subway shut down. As a plus, now I know which way to go.
10.29.2007
10.25.2007
Two Notes
As it turns out, the DethAlbum debuted at #21 on the Billboard charts, making it the top charting death metal album of all time.
It's official. Dethklok is the Blues Brothers of metal.
Also, all shitslinging comments without a name will henceforth be deleted. Especially the ones from idiots.
Aside from that, I'd like to give a(nother) big Fuck You to Jimmy Kimmel. He knows why.
It's official. Dethklok is the Blues Brothers of metal.
Also, all shitslinging comments without a name will henceforth be deleted. Especially the ones from idiots.
Aside from that, I'd like to give a(nother) big Fuck You to Jimmy Kimmel. He knows why.
10.19.2007
It's a good year to be a HELP I'M TRAPPED IN A CLICHE FACTORY
Barrack, you're a star, but DAMN IT AL WHY WON'T YOU BE MY PRESIDENT.
Not that I don't hold out hope. I do. As Obama himself said, the smart money was never on the forty-something black guy. But even as the polls drift towards Clinton he at least claims to have a plan. No primaries yet... But one would have to believe that if Gore managed to spend 8 years in the White House Obama would be a much better candidate afterwards.
This Clinton by any other name... All of her husband's downside without his upside. And inertia could very well deliver her to a national election that she's less likely to win than the other Democratic candidates.
I fucking hate the partisan binary and the bullshit it spawns. Actually I fucking hate the binary default that seems to be ingrained in our society. It's infected our music, our food, our sexuality...
Somehow the anchors at Fox Sports thought that Joe Torre leaving the Yankees was a bigger story than the game they were commentating. It's hardly news that there is an overwhelming concentration of complete douchebags involved with sports in New York.
The coach for the New York Jets snitched on the man who made his career, creating scandal by calling him on a practice that (a) offered no real advantage over other methods that were completely legal (b) was used more or less universally by NFL teams.
The fans at the Meadowlands cheered when their starting quarterback got hit hard and fell down repeatedly trying to get back up.
Anyone who knows basketball didn't need to hear about sexual harassment to know that Isiah Thomas is a morally bankrupt dickweed. And the Knicks signed him to a multi-year extension as head coach even after he triggered a brawl in Denver by instructing his players to foul hard in the paint.
So when the Yankees offer perhaps the greatest manager in the history of baseball a one year deal at a pay cut and a second year only if he delivered a World Series title--the signing of which would be the equivalent of releasing a public statement that he's a spineless wuss-- it should come as no surprise that they didn't ditch him in a way that would allow them both some dignity. They're assholes. At least Stienbrenner would have straight up fired him.
The other day I saw the Celtics obliterate the Knicks in the preseason home opener, from was probably the best seat I've ever sat in to see an NBA game. 101-61. Kevin Garnett, Paul Pierce, and Ray Allen were amazing. Hell, if the Patriots keep playing like they've been playing and the Sox pull these last two games out....
I'm just saying.
I may need to be listening to more metal, but I think that the Dethalbum has been the best metal album I've heard since Hypnotize by System of a Down. And it's by a fictional band. Hmm...
Not that I don't hold out hope. I do. As Obama himself said, the smart money was never on the forty-something black guy. But even as the polls drift towards Clinton he at least claims to have a plan. No primaries yet... But one would have to believe that if Gore managed to spend 8 years in the White House Obama would be a much better candidate afterwards.
This Clinton by any other name... All of her husband's downside without his upside. And inertia could very well deliver her to a national election that she's less likely to win than the other Democratic candidates.
I fucking hate the partisan binary and the bullshit it spawns. Actually I fucking hate the binary default that seems to be ingrained in our society. It's infected our music, our food, our sexuality...
Somehow the anchors at Fox Sports thought that Joe Torre leaving the Yankees was a bigger story than the game they were commentating. It's hardly news that there is an overwhelming concentration of complete douchebags involved with sports in New York.
The coach for the New York Jets snitched on the man who made his career, creating scandal by calling him on a practice that (a) offered no real advantage over other methods that were completely legal (b) was used more or less universally by NFL teams.
The fans at the Meadowlands cheered when their starting quarterback got hit hard and fell down repeatedly trying to get back up.
Anyone who knows basketball didn't need to hear about sexual harassment to know that Isiah Thomas is a morally bankrupt dickweed. And the Knicks signed him to a multi-year extension as head coach even after he triggered a brawl in Denver by instructing his players to foul hard in the paint.
So when the Yankees offer perhaps the greatest manager in the history of baseball a one year deal at a pay cut and a second year only if he delivered a World Series title--the signing of which would be the equivalent of releasing a public statement that he's a spineless wuss-- it should come as no surprise that they didn't ditch him in a way that would allow them both some dignity. They're assholes. At least Stienbrenner would have straight up fired him.
The other day I saw the Celtics obliterate the Knicks in the preseason home opener, from was probably the best seat I've ever sat in to see an NBA game. 101-61. Kevin Garnett, Paul Pierce, and Ray Allen were amazing. Hell, if the Patriots keep playing like they've been playing and the Sox pull these last two games out....
I'm just saying.
I may need to be listening to more metal, but I think that the Dethalbum has been the best metal album I've heard since Hypnotize by System of a Down. And it's by a fictional band. Hmm...
10.14.2007
Why are there so many songs about rainbows?
So. New Radiohead album.
I've kept coming back to Radiohead hoping for something as good as OK Computer. Granted, this is not the way to approach an album so that you love it. And this isn't to say that Kid A or The Bends were lost on me, but much of their work has found itself filed away under I for "Intelligent Pop" and rarely gets playlisted.
I'll admit that this isn't fair to them. And I'll also admit that I lost some serious hipster points for being less than enamored by Radiohead.
The arrangements are masterful, and never fail to impress. In Rainbows is no exception. But I get the feeling that they'd be served well to loosen up every now and again. It seems that only Thom Yourke's vocals are given license to draw spotlight. Not every band has to go crazy on lead guitar like Omar Rodriguez-Lopez of the Mars Volta. This I do concede. And I also concede that I have a bias that extends to guitar solos (and trumpet solos for that matter, but it doesn't come up much in rock save for Cake, who are awesome. Ska doesn't count in this case, though I do enjoy it from time to time).
All this being said, at it's worst the album is, well, pretty. Which isn't bad. If I ever do make a background music playlist, most of the tracks on this album would be featured. And the rest? those are the good ones. Specifically, "Nude," (actually a 2001 composition that has been previously performed live but only now recorded) which sounds a bit like Dire Straits (though with a better vocalist in Yourke and minus Mark Knopfler on guitar) and I think is one of the better examples of Radiohead's ethereal sound. Reckoner reminds me of a sort of Massive Attack infused Chili Peppers, though more mellow than either. There's something haunting about what Thom Yourke's voice does when it hits the upper registers.
The album peaks at Jigsaw Falling Into Place, wherein a notch is kicked up. It is my humble supposition that this would have been a far better album if the energy and intensity present in this track were more pervasive throughout.
But it's solid. Absolutely worth a listen or two or five.
The most important thing about it is the distribution of course. It's a big fuck you to EMI, and the recording industry in general. If it works, this could be something that could finally cause the labels to realize the fucking stupidity of their ways. Or if not? Trent Reznor has said that the next NIN album will be released the same way. Coming from a dude who has used enemity with his label as fuel for his work to great result, this is particularly exciting. Here's a clip from one of his concerts
Radiohead may not specifically be out to take down the system, but sure as fucking hell that man is.
Oasis is considering it as well, as are Jamiroquoi. Look for that list to expand.
this whole thing is making me wish I could start a record label. Because I know how I'd handle digital distribution.
First of all, what Radiohead did would absolutely be implemented. For a nominal minimum fee, maybe five dollars, all of the materials that would come with a standard cd would be mailed to the customer in addition to both MP3 and lossless audio compressions of the download so that if one had an empty jewel case, a CD-R, and a labeler, one could have something that passes for a standard retail cd. The record stores would get a special edition; maybe a dvd/dualdisc version with footage from sessions, interviews, music videos, concert footage, etc, and if marketable, vinyl LPs and singles (all of which come with free lossless downloads). Every optional dollar spent would go to the artists.
Of course, I could do much of that if I were the artist, save for maybe the special edition stuff. And it may come to pass that record deals will be signed wherein the label only is responsible for putting out the material that the artists can't handle themselves.
What this would mean, as Jason pointed out when we chatted earlier, is that to make it big you need to put on a killer live show.
Hey, I can dream
I've kept coming back to Radiohead hoping for something as good as OK Computer. Granted, this is not the way to approach an album so that you love it. And this isn't to say that Kid A or The Bends were lost on me, but much of their work has found itself filed away under I for "Intelligent Pop" and rarely gets playlisted.
I'll admit that this isn't fair to them. And I'll also admit that I lost some serious hipster points for being less than enamored by Radiohead.
The arrangements are masterful, and never fail to impress. In Rainbows is no exception. But I get the feeling that they'd be served well to loosen up every now and again. It seems that only Thom Yourke's vocals are given license to draw spotlight. Not every band has to go crazy on lead guitar like Omar Rodriguez-Lopez of the Mars Volta. This I do concede. And I also concede that I have a bias that extends to guitar solos (and trumpet solos for that matter, but it doesn't come up much in rock save for Cake, who are awesome. Ska doesn't count in this case, though I do enjoy it from time to time).
All this being said, at it's worst the album is, well, pretty. Which isn't bad. If I ever do make a background music playlist, most of the tracks on this album would be featured. And the rest? those are the good ones. Specifically, "Nude," (actually a 2001 composition that has been previously performed live but only now recorded) which sounds a bit like Dire Straits (though with a better vocalist in Yourke and minus Mark Knopfler on guitar) and I think is one of the better examples of Radiohead's ethereal sound. Reckoner reminds me of a sort of Massive Attack infused Chili Peppers, though more mellow than either. There's something haunting about what Thom Yourke's voice does when it hits the upper registers.
The album peaks at Jigsaw Falling Into Place, wherein a notch is kicked up. It is my humble supposition that this would have been a far better album if the energy and intensity present in this track were more pervasive throughout.
But it's solid. Absolutely worth a listen or two or five.
The most important thing about it is the distribution of course. It's a big fuck you to EMI, and the recording industry in general. If it works, this could be something that could finally cause the labels to realize the fucking stupidity of their ways. Or if not? Trent Reznor has said that the next NIN album will be released the same way. Coming from a dude who has used enemity with his label as fuel for his work to great result, this is particularly exciting. Here's a clip from one of his concerts
Radiohead may not specifically be out to take down the system, but sure as fucking hell that man is.
Oasis is considering it as well, as are Jamiroquoi. Look for that list to expand.
this whole thing is making me wish I could start a record label. Because I know how I'd handle digital distribution.
First of all, what Radiohead did would absolutely be implemented. For a nominal minimum fee, maybe five dollars, all of the materials that would come with a standard cd would be mailed to the customer in addition to both MP3 and lossless audio compressions of the download so that if one had an empty jewel case, a CD-R, and a labeler, one could have something that passes for a standard retail cd. The record stores would get a special edition; maybe a dvd/dualdisc version with footage from sessions, interviews, music videos, concert footage, etc, and if marketable, vinyl LPs and singles (all of which come with free lossless downloads). Every optional dollar spent would go to the artists.
Of course, I could do much of that if I were the artist, save for maybe the special edition stuff. And it may come to pass that record deals will be signed wherein the label only is responsible for putting out the material that the artists can't handle themselves.
What this would mean, as Jason pointed out when we chatted earlier, is that to make it big you need to put on a killer live show.
Hey, I can dream
10.10.2007
The New Fall Season
Has for most series reached the third episode as of this week. For me that means:
Boston Legal: Needs no introduction
House: Ditto
Bones: Working on it
Heroes: I've seen only one episode and it's the latest one and seeing as it's (a) Something our own Cooper wants me to start watching and (b) something a group of recently-made friends of mine are into and watch together each week in a ritual to which I have been made a party, I'm going to catch up. I have yet to analyze this in any way so I won't
Metalocalypse: Friggin amazing and brutal and hilarious and I'll actually be watching all three of this season's episodes while writing this
That it is, or at least was very recently, Tuesday night. Which means Bones, then House, then Boston Legal. But I didn't see Bones, which is usually worth watching but for some reason or another I'm not quite hooked. So, House and Boston Legal. Two leading men who I idolize. Brilliant actors both, each with an impeccable flair for comedy (Youtube Hugh Laurie and you'll see what I mean about that dude in particular, even outside of his work on House) Laurie manages this while also being an accomplished musician.
Anyways, most of the rest of this post bears a gentle spoiler warning. I doubt much will be ruined, but just so you know. Some details are being revealed
The last season of House ended with his diagnostics team departing. Foreman and Cameron resigned, and he fired Chase. The big looming question was, "what next?" And the first we see House this season he's wailing on a vintage 1967 Gibson Flying V
Fuck yes. My brother owns (and therefore I sometimes play) the custom shop reissue model based on that one and it's a sexy piece of axe that plays like a dream and sounds like angels orgasming. Or, as Brian, under whose tutelage I'm learning, put it, "This is a sweet guitar."
anyways, Apparently since his team left he's been mastering Eddie Van Halen's two-handed arpeggio technique. Cuddy isn't giving him cases, hoping he'll hire a new team, but he hasn't. So she gives him a case to prove to him that he needs a team, he eventually figures it out, but the point has been made that he needs help, so he vows to hire one. But this is Greg fucking House, so he can't do anything normally. The last shot is of him in a lecture hall tuning his guitar telling 40 prospects that he's going to build his team Survivor-style.
YES.
The crowd thins in the next episode as they solve yet another case, blah blah blah (not that it wasn't interesting but my synopsis certainly wouldn't be) and it's down to ten candidates, divided into two teams
Because it's a game to House.
Well, not really.
As is documented in the series, House either knows or believes or pretends that any attachment to a patient will hurt his objectivity. His motivation, therefore, is to solve the puzzle, and as such won't take a case unless it's going to deeply challenge him. Basically, he's Sherlock Holmes the Doctor, but we can set that aside. He's there to solve the puzzle. It's what he tells his patients, and for the most part it's true. But that would imply that once he diagnoses, he's shot his wad. And yet still he'll put his practice on the line to save lives, going so far as to swindle the transplant board into giving a liver to a bulemic CEO who would otherwise be exempt.
Which brings us back to this case. The ten are divided into two teams, each charged with finding out what's caused a paraplegic man to faint. And he helps neither.
The ethics there are amusing I find. If he knows what's going on and it's a test, then he's ethically bound to administer treatment. If he doesn't know, he should be helping. And as such, either way his boss is inclined to put a stop to the game. But House counters with an impressive contortion by not revealing whether he knows what's wrong or not. Cuddy can't compel him to treat because she doesn't know that he knows. But she trusts that he does, and therefore doesn't do anything.
And yes, I recognize fully that this wouldn't happen in real life. But it's fun. Which is actually a perfect segue into Boston Legal, and also I'm going to introduce a new term.
Han Solo Syndrome.
Remember the first Star Wars, pre-Special Edition? Han Solo is cornered by a Rodian bounty hunter named Greedo in the Mos Eisley cantina.
Like it ain't no thang. No moral scruples about shooting first, no second-guessing, etc. Han Solo, when we first meet him, is the consummate badass. If someone needs to be gone, he blows them the fuck away and does it like he's ordering a pizza. He's a drug runner; a pirate; a mercenary. The only evidence of moral scruples is his companion, who he freed from slavery long ago.
Sort of like Alan Shore in the Practice, if one accepts that I'm comparing a space pirate to a lawyer.
I actually did watch the show back in the day, but stopped before Alan Shore arrived on scene. But I've been working through the final season now. He makes a lesser impact upon arrival I guess, but like I said, different genres.
"I need a job. There was a problem at my last firm"
"what happened?"
"I embezzled. Allegedly."
And in his work in The Practice Alan Shore took no prisoners. The character was going to last for exactly a year in the show, so it was ok if he got fired or disbarred or murdered, from a narrative standpoint. Then comes Boston Legal, and he needs to continue indefinitely. So he needed to seem redeeming. Like Han Solo, he was around the good guys long enough for the good that was always in there to take over. The last underhanded thing he did was browbeat Jerry last season, and that wasn't even illegal or even unethical. He's still wonderfully sexually depraved, but the season begins with his girlfriend wanting his kid
And it's changed the complexion of the show. Paul Lewiston and Brad Chase were layered characters, but the role we first saw them both playing was foil to Alan. And now they're gone. Is it because David E Kelley recognizes that they're not needed?
Don't get me wrong. The show is still fantastic. Interesting cases, craziness, powerful lawyering-- Alan and Lorraine fucking in the elevator-- Tight shooting, awesome music excellent writing, solid plots... But I'd like to see some of that old Alan Shore. It can be a dirty trick for the greater good, if it must be. I understand. But give us something please?
That being said, this latest episode was excellent. The writers room for BL has mastered the extrapolation of issues into cases. Abstinence only sex education is a glowing example.
I don't need to restate my position on this. It's horseshit, and if I saw the people responsible for it pummeled to within inches of their lives I wouldn't blink.
As for Metalocalypse? One thing I admire about Brendan Small, who both writes and plays much of the music for the show, is his holding to the hard and fast rule that everything has consequences; even in a fantasy world where a death metal band is powerful enough an entity for a secret tribunal to be held in perpetuity to monitor it. Fans commit suicide over the lack of a new album, and willingly invite the risk (sometimes the probability) of pain and death to see a live show. Their home is technically its own country complete with an army and (I believe) its own UN ambassador.
The last season ended with an assassination attempt on the band, on an incredibly large scale. It failed, but as a result Dethklok stopped touring, stopped writing, stopped recording... in short, they stopped. As a result, the world economy is tanking and the fan suicide rate is through the roof (yes this is a constantly tracked statistic).
This show would be fantastic even without any layers. On the surface, it's "awesome" as a genre, in a way similar to but distinct from the Venture Brothers. But the entire premise, I suspect, was a thumb to the nose at the loud, overreaching paranoia merchants who declared Marilyn Manson to be responsible for the Columbine High School shootings. Every horrible thing that happens in the show is in some way an overblown version of the bad noise that parent's groups have been making about metal, the new devil's music, succeeding rock and roll which succeeded blues. Actually I'd like to see the looks on their faces while watching the show.
At least they won't think it's a bomb.
Boston Legal: Needs no introduction
House: Ditto
Bones: Working on it
Heroes: I've seen only one episode and it's the latest one and seeing as it's (a) Something our own Cooper wants me to start watching and (b) something a group of recently-made friends of mine are into and watch together each week in a ritual to which I have been made a party, I'm going to catch up. I have yet to analyze this in any way so I won't
Metalocalypse: Friggin amazing and brutal and hilarious and I'll actually be watching all three of this season's episodes while writing this
That it is, or at least was very recently, Tuesday night. Which means Bones, then House, then Boston Legal. But I didn't see Bones, which is usually worth watching but for some reason or another I'm not quite hooked. So, House and Boston Legal. Two leading men who I idolize. Brilliant actors both, each with an impeccable flair for comedy (Youtube Hugh Laurie and you'll see what I mean about that dude in particular, even outside of his work on House) Laurie manages this while also being an accomplished musician.
Anyways, most of the rest of this post bears a gentle spoiler warning. I doubt much will be ruined, but just so you know. Some details are being revealed
The last season of House ended with his diagnostics team departing. Foreman and Cameron resigned, and he fired Chase. The big looming question was, "what next?" And the first we see House this season he's wailing on a vintage 1967 Gibson Flying V
Fuck yes. My brother owns (and therefore I sometimes play) the custom shop reissue model based on that one and it's a sexy piece of axe that plays like a dream and sounds like angels orgasming. Or, as Brian, under whose tutelage I'm learning, put it, "This is a sweet guitar."
anyways, Apparently since his team left he's been mastering Eddie Van Halen's two-handed arpeggio technique. Cuddy isn't giving him cases, hoping he'll hire a new team, but he hasn't. So she gives him a case to prove to him that he needs a team, he eventually figures it out, but the point has been made that he needs help, so he vows to hire one. But this is Greg fucking House, so he can't do anything normally. The last shot is of him in a lecture hall tuning his guitar telling 40 prospects that he's going to build his team Survivor-style.
YES.
The crowd thins in the next episode as they solve yet another case, blah blah blah (not that it wasn't interesting but my synopsis certainly wouldn't be) and it's down to ten candidates, divided into two teams
Because it's a game to House.
Well, not really.
As is documented in the series, House either knows or believes or pretends that any attachment to a patient will hurt his objectivity. His motivation, therefore, is to solve the puzzle, and as such won't take a case unless it's going to deeply challenge him. Basically, he's Sherlock Holmes the Doctor, but we can set that aside. He's there to solve the puzzle. It's what he tells his patients, and for the most part it's true. But that would imply that once he diagnoses, he's shot his wad. And yet still he'll put his practice on the line to save lives, going so far as to swindle the transplant board into giving a liver to a bulemic CEO who would otherwise be exempt.
Which brings us back to this case. The ten are divided into two teams, each charged with finding out what's caused a paraplegic man to faint. And he helps neither.
The ethics there are amusing I find. If he knows what's going on and it's a test, then he's ethically bound to administer treatment. If he doesn't know, he should be helping. And as such, either way his boss is inclined to put a stop to the game. But House counters with an impressive contortion by not revealing whether he knows what's wrong or not. Cuddy can't compel him to treat because she doesn't know that he knows. But she trusts that he does, and therefore doesn't do anything.
And yes, I recognize fully that this wouldn't happen in real life. But it's fun. Which is actually a perfect segue into Boston Legal, and also I'm going to introduce a new term.
Han Solo Syndrome.
Remember the first Star Wars, pre-Special Edition? Han Solo is cornered by a Rodian bounty hunter named Greedo in the Mos Eisley cantina.
Like it ain't no thang. No moral scruples about shooting first, no second-guessing, etc. Han Solo, when we first meet him, is the consummate badass. If someone needs to be gone, he blows them the fuck away and does it like he's ordering a pizza. He's a drug runner; a pirate; a mercenary. The only evidence of moral scruples is his companion, who he freed from slavery long ago.
Sort of like Alan Shore in the Practice, if one accepts that I'm comparing a space pirate to a lawyer.
I actually did watch the show back in the day, but stopped before Alan Shore arrived on scene. But I've been working through the final season now. He makes a lesser impact upon arrival I guess, but like I said, different genres.
"I need a job. There was a problem at my last firm"
"what happened?"
"I embezzled. Allegedly."
And in his work in The Practice Alan Shore took no prisoners. The character was going to last for exactly a year in the show, so it was ok if he got fired or disbarred or murdered, from a narrative standpoint. Then comes Boston Legal, and he needs to continue indefinitely. So he needed to seem redeeming. Like Han Solo, he was around the good guys long enough for the good that was always in there to take over. The last underhanded thing he did was browbeat Jerry last season, and that wasn't even illegal or even unethical. He's still wonderfully sexually depraved, but the season begins with his girlfriend wanting his kid
And it's changed the complexion of the show. Paul Lewiston and Brad Chase were layered characters, but the role we first saw them both playing was foil to Alan. And now they're gone. Is it because David E Kelley recognizes that they're not needed?
Don't get me wrong. The show is still fantastic. Interesting cases, craziness, powerful lawyering-- Alan and Lorraine fucking in the elevator-- Tight shooting, awesome music excellent writing, solid plots... But I'd like to see some of that old Alan Shore. It can be a dirty trick for the greater good, if it must be. I understand. But give us something please?
That being said, this latest episode was excellent. The writers room for BL has mastered the extrapolation of issues into cases. Abstinence only sex education is a glowing example.
I don't need to restate my position on this. It's horseshit, and if I saw the people responsible for it pummeled to within inches of their lives I wouldn't blink.
As for Metalocalypse? One thing I admire about Brendan Small, who both writes and plays much of the music for the show, is his holding to the hard and fast rule that everything has consequences; even in a fantasy world where a death metal band is powerful enough an entity for a secret tribunal to be held in perpetuity to monitor it. Fans commit suicide over the lack of a new album, and willingly invite the risk (sometimes the probability) of pain and death to see a live show. Their home is technically its own country complete with an army and (I believe) its own UN ambassador.
The last season ended with an assassination attempt on the band, on an incredibly large scale. It failed, but as a result Dethklok stopped touring, stopped writing, stopped recording... in short, they stopped. As a result, the world economy is tanking and the fan suicide rate is through the roof (yes this is a constantly tracked statistic).
This show would be fantastic even without any layers. On the surface, it's "awesome" as a genre, in a way similar to but distinct from the Venture Brothers. But the entire premise, I suspect, was a thumb to the nose at the loud, overreaching paranoia merchants who declared Marilyn Manson to be responsible for the Columbine High School shootings. Every horrible thing that happens in the show is in some way an overblown version of the bad noise that parent's groups have been making about metal, the new devil's music, succeeding rock and roll which succeeded blues. Actually I'd like to see the looks on their faces while watching the show.
At least they won't think it's a bomb.
10.06.2007
Lessons
I've just found out that this blog looks its best in widescreen. I know you're all on the way out to go and get shiny new monitors at this new information, but stick around a bit.
Somehow until last night I've managed to live in this town with next to no exposure to live comedy. This is, of course, impossible in Chicago, where if you're into theater at all you are required by law to investigate the sketch, improv, and stand-up comedy there. I was in violation for maybe about a week when a cop stepped over two drunken underage freshmen fucking on the sidewalk, brushed past a gaggle of streetwalkers, declined a proffered bong as he passed by a stoner circle, and tapped me on the shoulder I turned around and he looked at me and he knew I was hiding something.
An hour later I was buzzed onstage at the open mic with a guy who looked friggin exactly like Ray's brother on Everybody Loves Raymond.
And I could have sworn it was the same guy hosting the show the other night. It wasn't. How many comedians, I wonder, make jokes about people who mistake them for Ray's brother. Maybe one per major city? Maybe Brad Garret gets royalties?
Anyways, it was fun.
My brother had me take his Flying V in to my guitar lesson on Friday so that my instructor could check it out. He said, in his professional opinion, that it was "friggin sweet" and that I should show him the back of my hand for his utter refusal to practice such an instrument.
He also introduced me to a blues band from the 90s called The Red Devils, who in their time were considered a promising force. The band recorded material with Mick Jagger which is now consigned to bootlegs. They were on the verge of making it big before the lead singer was shot by his girlfriend. They tried to revive him. With cocaine. It didn't work, so they tried it again. Four more times. Official cause of death? Cocaine overdose. The dosers got two years. The shooter got none.
Anyways, they are fucking awesome. I'm learning some of their riffs now, which are fun as hell to play, including one originally played on harmonica, which Brian was able to transcribe to guitar, which may in fact be a new technique.
Anyways, here's some Youtube of the band. I've yet to find a live clip of the particular song I'm looking for though
fuck yes
Also, it has become apparent to me by way of my asshole downstairs neighbor and his (admittedly sweet) loud stereo that EVERY SINGLE COUNTRY SONG EVER WRITTEN HAS THE SAME FUCKING BASSLINE. Dudes who play bass for country bands: come up with new riffs or I swear I will saw your fingers off. Did you really think that the White Stripes never had a bassist? They couldn't find a replacement with the last name White is all. I couldn't tell if it was their sibling or their offspring but it doesn't matter anymore.
Oh and also
SOX FTW!
Somehow until last night I've managed to live in this town with next to no exposure to live comedy. This is, of course, impossible in Chicago, where if you're into theater at all you are required by law to investigate the sketch, improv, and stand-up comedy there. I was in violation for maybe about a week when a cop stepped over two drunken underage freshmen fucking on the sidewalk, brushed past a gaggle of streetwalkers, declined a proffered bong as he passed by a stoner circle, and tapped me on the shoulder I turned around and he looked at me and he knew I was hiding something.
An hour later I was buzzed onstage at the open mic with a guy who looked friggin exactly like Ray's brother on Everybody Loves Raymond.
And I could have sworn it was the same guy hosting the show the other night. It wasn't. How many comedians, I wonder, make jokes about people who mistake them for Ray's brother. Maybe one per major city? Maybe Brad Garret gets royalties?
Anyways, it was fun.
My brother had me take his Flying V in to my guitar lesson on Friday so that my instructor could check it out. He said, in his professional opinion, that it was "friggin sweet" and that I should show him the back of my hand for his utter refusal to practice such an instrument.
He also introduced me to a blues band from the 90s called The Red Devils, who in their time were considered a promising force. The band recorded material with Mick Jagger which is now consigned to bootlegs. They were on the verge of making it big before the lead singer was shot by his girlfriend. They tried to revive him. With cocaine. It didn't work, so they tried it again. Four more times. Official cause of death? Cocaine overdose. The dosers got two years. The shooter got none.
Anyways, they are fucking awesome. I'm learning some of their riffs now, which are fun as hell to play, including one originally played on harmonica, which Brian was able to transcribe to guitar, which may in fact be a new technique.
Anyways, here's some Youtube of the band. I've yet to find a live clip of the particular song I'm looking for though
fuck yes
Also, it has become apparent to me by way of my asshole downstairs neighbor and his (admittedly sweet) loud stereo that EVERY SINGLE COUNTRY SONG EVER WRITTEN HAS THE SAME FUCKING BASSLINE. Dudes who play bass for country bands: come up with new riffs or I swear I will saw your fingers off. Did you really think that the White Stripes never had a bassist? They couldn't find a replacement with the last name White is all. I couldn't tell if it was their sibling or their offspring but it doesn't matter anymore.
Oh and also
SOX FTW!
10.03.2007
What follows was begun late the previous night on a bench and I crashed before I could post... wait a sec, this title sucks.
The last bus out of Medford Square, after having taken the last from Davis, has managed to seem like a ritual, even though this is actually only the third time I've taken it. Not often enough to be sure that there is, in fact, a bus coming
I almost wrote "a-comin'" there, but that wouldn't work. Anyone in favor of renaming the bus so that it does? Something that could fit in with the sound of a glass tube sliding up and down the neck of an old telecaster? Just a thought. It occured to me at some point to write a story akin to Don Quixote only about a blues man born tragically in the wrong era and in fact universe, believing all the mythology to be fact. Unfortunately there's a movie that was made a while back where a kid who thinks that the folklore is just folklore and finds out that he's real after convincing an old blues man and friend of Robert Johnson to teach him the blues, all Karate Kid style. And to make sure the audience didn't have to recognize that parallel on their own, it starred the Karate Kid.
Actually despite my jest it was a solid flick. Not great cinema, but it had some good music and a guest appearance by Steve Vai, who is, to use the technical term, fucking incredible.
Tonight there were plans to snag some last minute tickets to see Bob Dylan and Elvis Costello in Worcester, but I mistakenly believed that Paypal had made friends with say, any ticket broker at all, and was SOL. Instead I wound up watching High Fidelity with a couple of friends I met in Cambridge at the meetup I wrote about below. I don't know why I haven't seen it before now but sweet bumbling fuck do I fear becoming John Cusack's character in it in 6 years.
Anyways, part of the reason I've not been posting is because I do this at night and I've been spending a lot of evenings with these people. Hence the late busses, and I'm beginning to think that this one isn't coming.
A question for Schrodinger: If you're waiting for a bus that may not be coming is it simultaneously coming and not coming until it either gets there or you say fuck it and start walking and either it passes you by and you get pissed off or it doesn't and you end up walking the rest of the way?
Fuck it. That was the same cop car that just passed for the sixth time and I'm on the corner wearing a trench coat
I almost wrote "a-comin'" there, but that wouldn't work. Anyone in favor of renaming the bus so that it does? Something that could fit in with the sound of a glass tube sliding up and down the neck of an old telecaster? Just a thought. It occured to me at some point to write a story akin to Don Quixote only about a blues man born tragically in the wrong era and in fact universe, believing all the mythology to be fact. Unfortunately there's a movie that was made a while back where a kid who thinks that the folklore is just folklore and finds out that he's real after convincing an old blues man and friend of Robert Johnson to teach him the blues, all Karate Kid style. And to make sure the audience didn't have to recognize that parallel on their own, it starred the Karate Kid.
Actually despite my jest it was a solid flick. Not great cinema, but it had some good music and a guest appearance by Steve Vai, who is, to use the technical term, fucking incredible.
Tonight there were plans to snag some last minute tickets to see Bob Dylan and Elvis Costello in Worcester, but I mistakenly believed that Paypal had made friends with say, any ticket broker at all, and was SOL. Instead I wound up watching High Fidelity with a couple of friends I met in Cambridge at the meetup I wrote about below. I don't know why I haven't seen it before now but sweet bumbling fuck do I fear becoming John Cusack's character in it in 6 years.
Anyways, part of the reason I've not been posting is because I do this at night and I've been spending a lot of evenings with these people. Hence the late busses, and I'm beginning to think that this one isn't coming.
A question for Schrodinger: If you're waiting for a bus that may not be coming is it simultaneously coming and not coming until it either gets there or you say fuck it and start walking and either it passes you by and you get pissed off or it doesn't and you end up walking the rest of the way?
Fuck it. That was the same cop car that just passed for the sixth time and I'm on the corner wearing a trench coat
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