It should come as no surprise that G.W. Bush has managed to make some good come out of the destruction of New Orleans. Not good for the people who live in the region, that is. No, I'm speaking of good for Haliburton. Think what you will of Cheney's former company. Choose to see no favoritism or lingering loyalties to this powerful corporate entitity. Forget, for instance that they recieved many lucrative no-bid contracts in Iraq for which they have proffited handsomely. But consider that they have already been signed to rebuild the US Naval Base in New Orleans. Man, but that was a fast brokered deal.
To make matters even more lucrative for Haliburton, he has indefinately suspended the Bacon-Davis Pay Act, adopted in 1931 to require fedreral contractors to pay the prevailing or average wage for the region. Considering that wage is only $9 an hour and the people most effected by the storm are the regions poorest, it feels like Bush is kicking them when they are down. While the Bacon-Davis Act has been suspended before, it has been rare and only for a very limited, pre-defined period of time. To make matters more suspicious, Bush has applied this suspension not only to New Orleans, but also to other regions along the Gulf Coast which have much less severe damage to rebuild from.
Check out this link to the Washington Post for more complete coment on the situation and the brewing fight. And make sure we vote this fucktard and his cronies out of office at the first available opportunity.
www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/09/08/AR2005090802037.html
-T
Saturday, September 10, 2005
Friday, September 02, 2005
She's Leaving Home...
After a nailbiting loss at Key Arena last night (don't worry Storm, you'll get them on Saturday!), we went to Melting Pot to do do that fondue that we do so well. And this morning, we loaded the last of the things in the car, Kat said good-by to the kitties, and that was that. She is driving to Chicago even as I write this, planning to arrive on Sunday, calling frequently to update me on her progress. I get to stay and pack up the house, dump a lot of stuff we don't need, arange for the rest to be shipped out to Chicago, and then sell our much beloved home of 3 years. It hit Kat this morning, probably not for the first time, that this was the last time she would see it. And it hit her particularly hard that last trip out the door. And being the empatic person I am, it hit me hard as well.
I still get to live here in Seattle for 4 more months, but only in the house for a few more weeks. And even then, won't be the same without her here, making it sparkle. Metaphorically, that is. Anyone who has been here knows I have my work cut out for me getting the place clean...neither of us is particularly good housecleaning. In January, I get to join her at our new place in Oak Park, pictures of which I have posted previously. But I am too depressed to do much cleaning right now.
As the Beatles put it, "She's leaving home. Bye-bye."
-T
I still get to live here in Seattle for 4 more months, but only in the house for a few more weeks. And even then, won't be the same without her here, making it sparkle. Metaphorically, that is. Anyone who has been here knows I have my work cut out for me getting the place clean...neither of us is particularly good housecleaning. In January, I get to join her at our new place in Oak Park, pictures of which I have posted previously. But I am too depressed to do much cleaning right now.
As the Beatles put it, "She's leaving home. Bye-bye."
-T
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Out with a bang
With our move fast approaching, I had to take one last opportunity to scar my gaming friends for life. Surely, a night of Call of Cthulhu was called for. We gathered at our house around 6 and sacrificed chicken and burgers to Vera, the goddess of meat, otherwise known as our big-ass Weber grill. Once the flesh of the innocent (i.e. cows and chickens) was consumed, we headed in for some role-playing action.
Picture if you will, nine strangers (actually, there was a couple and a pair of old friends, but among the 5 cars, there were many strangers) stranded on a mountain road in southern California, having to take refuge from the storm in the abandoned community of Bethlehem Glen. But not all is right in this sleepy town, and the church seems to honor no god that the players recognise. Two players guard a deadly secret, and maybe, just maybe, the town is not as abandoned as they had thought...
Award for first death goes to Sean's surfer soldier who found himself damn near cut in half by Ed's shotgun in a moment of insanity fueled chaos. His surf buddy Ian almost made it out, and if anyone could have outrun the antler-crowned children of the forest god, it would have been him. Alas, it was not to be, and he found himself gored to unconsiousness on the road out of town.
Catherine's mural painter was next to go. Having snapped, she tried to open the barricaded church doors to the hoved and horned terrors. Claiming another victim, Ed crushed the base of her skull before she could let the bad in. Kat's runaway teen broke and ran for the basement, already filled with propane fumes. John's ex-con mechanic went after her, as did Andrew's youth-advisor and Jen's nature photographer.
As the antlered horde broke through, Ed the ex-cop bank robber and Lupa, his cocktail waitress partner, took to the safety of the vestry. A quick bullet into the propane tank by the door bought them some time, but the numbers were too vast. Lupa dressed up in clerical vestments and took hold of any religious symbols she could find, while Ed tried in vain to hold their position. As the fight looked lost, John fired up the jury-rigged riding mower in the shed, lit the fuse to the propane filled basement, and powered the other three out and to safety, sending the profane church up in a fireball against the night sky.
Ed was turned into a screaming comet of blistered flesh and pain, coming to rest in the tall grass, clinging to the last thread of life. As the horde circled him, Lupa stepped through the throng, antlers growing majestically from her head, fully one of THEM now. Ian, too, had become one of the herd, and the four survivors passed him on their way out of town and to safety.
Days later and miles apart, Jen develops her film and sees, for the first time, the shadow of horns on the heads of John and Kat's characters. Maddness envelops her. The terror is just beginning.
All and all, a very satisfactory night of gaming. Those that lived are most likely scarred for life, and over half the party never made it out at all. I think most people had fun, and I got to share my nightmares with them.
Enough for now. More to come.
-T
Picture if you will, nine strangers (actually, there was a couple and a pair of old friends, but among the 5 cars, there were many strangers) stranded on a mountain road in southern California, having to take refuge from the storm in the abandoned community of Bethlehem Glen. But not all is right in this sleepy town, and the church seems to honor no god that the players recognise. Two players guard a deadly secret, and maybe, just maybe, the town is not as abandoned as they had thought...
Award for first death goes to Sean's surfer soldier who found himself damn near cut in half by Ed's shotgun in a moment of insanity fueled chaos. His surf buddy Ian almost made it out, and if anyone could have outrun the antler-crowned children of the forest god, it would have been him. Alas, it was not to be, and he found himself gored to unconsiousness on the road out of town.
Catherine's mural painter was next to go. Having snapped, she tried to open the barricaded church doors to the hoved and horned terrors. Claiming another victim, Ed crushed the base of her skull before she could let the bad in. Kat's runaway teen broke and ran for the basement, already filled with propane fumes. John's ex-con mechanic went after her, as did Andrew's youth-advisor and Jen's nature photographer.
As the antlered horde broke through, Ed the ex-cop bank robber and Lupa, his cocktail waitress partner, took to the safety of the vestry. A quick bullet into the propane tank by the door bought them some time, but the numbers were too vast. Lupa dressed up in clerical vestments and took hold of any religious symbols she could find, while Ed tried in vain to hold their position. As the fight looked lost, John fired up the jury-rigged riding mower in the shed, lit the fuse to the propane filled basement, and powered the other three out and to safety, sending the profane church up in a fireball against the night sky.
Ed was turned into a screaming comet of blistered flesh and pain, coming to rest in the tall grass, clinging to the last thread of life. As the horde circled him, Lupa stepped through the throng, antlers growing majestically from her head, fully one of THEM now. Ian, too, had become one of the herd, and the four survivors passed him on their way out of town and to safety.
Days later and miles apart, Jen develops her film and sees, for the first time, the shadow of horns on the heads of John and Kat's characters. Maddness envelops her. The terror is just beginning.
All and all, a very satisfactory night of gaming. Those that lived are most likely scarred for life, and over half the party never made it out at all. I think most people had fun, and I got to share my nightmares with them.
Enough for now. More to come.
-T
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
The Move is on
My lovely wife starts her new job in September, so we are having to leave this bastion of rain, coffee, and intellectual freedom that is the greater Seattle area for the harsh winters and deep-dish double-crust goodness of Chicago. It was a rough decision, but ultimately, it was for the best. Individually and together, we have made some amazing friends here, and leaving them behind was not done lightly. But we exhausted job prospects in the area and simply couldn't turn down her 60% increase in income.
So we just recieved word today. Our application to the apartment we were looking at in Oak Park has been accepted, so we are officially a "Go!" The move, as they say, is on. All that remains is weeding out all the stuff we don't want to take cross country and packing up the rest before we sell the house.
-T
So we just recieved word today. Our application to the apartment we were looking at in Oak Park has been accepted, so we are officially a "Go!" The move, as they say, is on. All that remains is weeding out all the stuff we don't want to take cross country and packing up the rest before we sell the house.
-T
Friday, August 05, 2005
Yee Haw!
Where to begin...
I guess there is no way to say this than to just drag the painfull truth out into the open and be done with it.
I went and saw the Dukes of Hazzard at theatres today.
I know what you're thinking, and I'm disgusted with myself too. Sitting in the car in the parking lot, I carefully reviewed my options. Must Love Dogs? No...no date movies in the middle of the day when I'm by myself. Wedding Crashers? Possible...I've heard good things about it, but it didn't start for a while and the car was getting hot. No, there was no time like the present. Eventually I was going to watch the Duke boys tear up half of Hazzard County, and I had to accept it. This movie was going to be watched. Might as well do it in the comfort of the air conditioned stadium seating of the Supermall megaplex. I considered strong words about how I would review it, should I ever be forced under torture to admit that I saw it in the first place. I wondered if the word "purile" was too strong or not strong enough of an adjactive.
So it pretty much goes without saying that my expectations were pretty damn low. I figured 2 or 3 on a 10 point scale low.
Imagine my surprise when I found myself laughing and rocking with the hillbilly (or as Luke calls them, Appalacian Americans) antics and hijinks. I wasn't a huge fan of the show. I watched a season or two but then grew bored with it as a child. It was fun, but it just didn't have the man-monkey love of my dear BJ and the Bear. I think that I might have had a Dukes lunch box, but maybe that was one of my brothers. So I had no LOVE for the source material. But I was familiar with it. Damned if the movie wasn't a love story to the show. They were well aware that they weren't remaking Shakespeare, and they played to the strengths...car chases, hijinks, and, sing along if you know it..."just some good ol' boys, never meaning no harm."
Seann William Scott has some weird, quirky charm that elevates anything he's in. And Johnny Knoxville, while no Anthony Hopkins, plays well of his character, hitting every note and having a blast doing it. I wasn't expecting Jessica Simpson to really act, just show up look good, and that she did, so I can't complain. And she wasn't nearly as wooden and vapid as I have seen other screen bimbos be, with more acting chops than, oh, I don't know, Carmen Electra, for instance.
That said, not a great movie. The story is, ultimately, pretty stupid. But then again, it was no more stupid than the show which inspired it. The car chase through Atlanta, while contrived, boiled down to a tasty essence everything that made the series last 6 years.
I didn't want to like it. I swear to you, I never wanted to like it. But I did. My wife may leave me in disgust and change her name, hiding in outer Mongolia for my admitting it, but yeah, I actually enjoyed The Dukes of Hazzard. I'll never make my lovely wife see it, nor will I likely buy it on DVD. (Hear that babe? Put down the suitcase. Thanks.)
In the end, worth a matinee if you are willing to shut off your brain and not take yourself too seriously. Possibly even a 7 on a 10 point scale. Certaily a solid 6.5 for just flat out fun.
-T
I guess there is no way to say this than to just drag the painfull truth out into the open and be done with it.
I went and saw the Dukes of Hazzard at theatres today.
I know what you're thinking, and I'm disgusted with myself too. Sitting in the car in the parking lot, I carefully reviewed my options. Must Love Dogs? No...no date movies in the middle of the day when I'm by myself. Wedding Crashers? Possible...I've heard good things about it, but it didn't start for a while and the car was getting hot. No, there was no time like the present. Eventually I was going to watch the Duke boys tear up half of Hazzard County, and I had to accept it. This movie was going to be watched. Might as well do it in the comfort of the air conditioned stadium seating of the Supermall megaplex. I considered strong words about how I would review it, should I ever be forced under torture to admit that I saw it in the first place. I wondered if the word "purile" was too strong or not strong enough of an adjactive.
So it pretty much goes without saying that my expectations were pretty damn low. I figured 2 or 3 on a 10 point scale low.
Imagine my surprise when I found myself laughing and rocking with the hillbilly (or as Luke calls them, Appalacian Americans) antics and hijinks. I wasn't a huge fan of the show. I watched a season or two but then grew bored with it as a child. It was fun, but it just didn't have the man-monkey love of my dear BJ and the Bear. I think that I might have had a Dukes lunch box, but maybe that was one of my brothers. So I had no LOVE for the source material. But I was familiar with it. Damned if the movie wasn't a love story to the show. They were well aware that they weren't remaking Shakespeare, and they played to the strengths...car chases, hijinks, and, sing along if you know it..."just some good ol' boys, never meaning no harm."
Seann William Scott has some weird, quirky charm that elevates anything he's in. And Johnny Knoxville, while no Anthony Hopkins, plays well of his character, hitting every note and having a blast doing it. I wasn't expecting Jessica Simpson to really act, just show up look good, and that she did, so I can't complain. And she wasn't nearly as wooden and vapid as I have seen other screen bimbos be, with more acting chops than, oh, I don't know, Carmen Electra, for instance.
That said, not a great movie. The story is, ultimately, pretty stupid. But then again, it was no more stupid than the show which inspired it. The car chase through Atlanta, while contrived, boiled down to a tasty essence everything that made the series last 6 years.
I didn't want to like it. I swear to you, I never wanted to like it. But I did. My wife may leave me in disgust and change her name, hiding in outer Mongolia for my admitting it, but yeah, I actually enjoyed The Dukes of Hazzard. I'll never make my lovely wife see it, nor will I likely buy it on DVD. (Hear that babe? Put down the suitcase. Thanks.)
In the end, worth a matinee if you are willing to shut off your brain and not take yourself too seriously. Possibly even a 7 on a 10 point scale. Certaily a solid 6.5 for just flat out fun.
-T
Thursday, July 14, 2005
Green Chile goodness
One of the things I miss most about living in the southwest is the fresh roasted green chilies. Every year, the big iron roasters will pop up in parking logs of grocery stores or wherever they can find a space, like giant heated bingo cages full of peppers. After living in the greater Seattle area for eight years, I have realized that there is no subsititue for the real thing. For that reason, I have requested periodic care packages from my mom who taught me more about cooking than Food TV. (That said, Alton Brown, you are my God, so keep on cranking out Good Eats and I'll keep watching!)
These packages consist of one big freezer bag of green chile seperated into several smaller portions of ziplocked green chile goodness. I'm on my last 2 portions now, so hopefully more arrives soon. I don't want to go into withdrawl. So below is one of my favorite family recipies for the use of these little fire-blackened peppers from heaven. It is a closely guarded family secret, so don't tell anyone where you got the recipie, but do enjoy.
-T
These packages consist of one big freezer bag of green chile seperated into several smaller portions of ziplocked green chile goodness. I'm on my last 2 portions now, so hopefully more arrives soon. I don't want to go into withdrawl. So below is one of my favorite family recipies for the use of these little fire-blackened peppers from heaven. It is a closely guarded family secret, so don't tell anyone where you got the recipie, but do enjoy.
-T
Cornbread
1 cup cornmeal
1 cup flour
1 can creamed corn
4 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. salt
½ cup sugar
½ shortening, softened (or butter)
4 eggs
1 ½ cups shredded cheese (cheddar or jack or both)
* while the recipe originally calls for only 1 cup, I never find it to be enough, and don’t actually measure the cheese. 1 ½ up to 2 cups is about what I end up using when I make this myself.
3 green chilies, cleaned and chopped (or 2 small cans)
*fresh, authentic chilies make this dish what it is, but they can be hard to find in
Pre-heat oven to 350, and grease a 9x11 Pyrex dish.
Mix all ingredients until moistened. Pour into baking dish and level with spoon.
Set timer for 30 min. You should see the edges slightly browned, and a toothpick inserted in the middle should come out clean. Since not all ovens are created equal, and the consistency of chilies and amount of cheese can make the cook time vary, 30 minutes is just a guide line and will most likely need to be baked just a bit longer. The cornbread can cook for as long as 45 minutes, but personally, I have never needed to bake it that long. Just check it every few minutes with a toothpick. When it comes out clean, remove the pan and let it cool for 10 minutes before serving.
It goes particularly well with butter whipped with honey as a topper.
Friday, June 24, 2005
The downside of science
I have always felt that scientific progress and was a good things. But your name doesn't have to be Iccarus to dissagree with me on that one. I saw evidence of that this very evening.
We have three cats, two who have no front claws and have lived their whole lives indoors, never really understanding what dogs are or how they are not "friends to all things feline". The other cat has her claws, and when confronted with a dog turns into a Halloween kitty, all arched back and hissing. And that's the way it should be. Cats should fear dogs. It's nature, and don't give me any tree hugging, granola-crunching love and peace bull arguments to the contrary. That's just the way it is. My wife and I had two of our friends down for a basketball game this evening, and since one of them has a recently injured dog which needs supervision, we let him bring his dogs down. Not a big deal. They are well behaved, perfect ladies. But they are dogs. So we locked the cats up with food, water, and a litter box.
Actually, one was inadvertantly locked in a bedroom for two hours with none of the above because she was hiding when the dogs got there. Yes, this is the one who fears dogs. The other two, big fluffy brothers who frequently act like dogs, got locked in the laundry room with every comfort except human companionship and catnip. (Hey, it was a moderatly confined space. Locking them in with drugs somehow seemed wrong.)
After two hours, we observed the door knob for the laundry room twist. The brothers, not unlike the Greek legends who fashioned wings of feathers and wax, were trying to make a break for it, unaware of the dangers of their potential escape. But we figured, hell, they have to hold the handle down, and then pull the door open. No way that is going to happen, and if it does, well, they deserve freedom. We imagined them plotting their escape just the other side of the door. "Ok, Misty. Let me stand on your back so I can get the handle, and this time, really try to get your paw under the door and pull. Don't let me down here, bro."
Lo and behold, after fifteen minutes of experimentation, the handle twisted down and stayed there for a good ten seconds. It was long enough for one of them to pull the door open with his little grey paw from beneath the door. And like that, they were free, looking every bit as confident and in comand as the crew from Resevoir Dogs as they walk down the street in their suits. Heaven help me, I don't think I've ever been prouder of them.
If the dogs hadn't been on the other side of a screen door and on a leash, this story might have had a different ending. As it was, my wife and daughter coralled the escaped criminal masterminds, and locked them upstairs with their half-sister who knew well enough not to try to get out in the first place.
Science. It's a good adventure. Just make sure you know what's on the other side of the door. Otherwise you could end up like Iccarus.
-T
We have three cats, two who have no front claws and have lived their whole lives indoors, never really understanding what dogs are or how they are not "friends to all things feline". The other cat has her claws, and when confronted with a dog turns into a Halloween kitty, all arched back and hissing. And that's the way it should be. Cats should fear dogs. It's nature, and don't give me any tree hugging, granola-crunching love and peace bull arguments to the contrary. That's just the way it is. My wife and I had two of our friends down for a basketball game this evening, and since one of them has a recently injured dog which needs supervision, we let him bring his dogs down. Not a big deal. They are well behaved, perfect ladies. But they are dogs. So we locked the cats up with food, water, and a litter box.
Actually, one was inadvertantly locked in a bedroom for two hours with none of the above because she was hiding when the dogs got there. Yes, this is the one who fears dogs. The other two, big fluffy brothers who frequently act like dogs, got locked in the laundry room with every comfort except human companionship and catnip. (Hey, it was a moderatly confined space. Locking them in with drugs somehow seemed wrong.)
After two hours, we observed the door knob for the laundry room twist. The brothers, not unlike the Greek legends who fashioned wings of feathers and wax, were trying to make a break for it, unaware of the dangers of their potential escape. But we figured, hell, they have to hold the handle down, and then pull the door open. No way that is going to happen, and if it does, well, they deserve freedom. We imagined them plotting their escape just the other side of the door. "Ok, Misty. Let me stand on your back so I can get the handle, and this time, really try to get your paw under the door and pull. Don't let me down here, bro."
Lo and behold, after fifteen minutes of experimentation, the handle twisted down and stayed there for a good ten seconds. It was long enough for one of them to pull the door open with his little grey paw from beneath the door. And like that, they were free, looking every bit as confident and in comand as the crew from Resevoir Dogs as they walk down the street in their suits. Heaven help me, I don't think I've ever been prouder of them.
If the dogs hadn't been on the other side of a screen door and on a leash, this story might have had a different ending. As it was, my wife and daughter coralled the escaped criminal masterminds, and locked them upstairs with their half-sister who knew well enough not to try to get out in the first place.
Science. It's a good adventure. Just make sure you know what's on the other side of the door. Otherwise you could end up like Iccarus.
-T
Friday, June 17, 2005
Sell Out
So, it's official. I'm a sell out. After years of bitching about the state of Hollywood horror movies, favoring independent and foreign pieces, I have finally seen the light.
When The Grudge came out with Sarah Michelle Gellar, I read the reviews which said it was okay, but not nearly as good as the original Japanese Ju-on. Even thought it was made by the same director and had key actors reprising their roles, most importantly the creepy kid who played Toshio, I believed, without a second thought, that the original had to be better. But being the impatient media whore that I am, I went to see the remake in theatres rather than wait for the release of the original on DVD.
Well, I after letting it sit on my shelf for months, I finally watched Ju-on. And heaven help me, it wasn't as good as the remake. Sam Rami did a brilliant thing as a producer on The Grudge: he gave the original film maker more of a budget to make the movie he had wanted the other attempts to be. It was, in a very real sense, not so much of a remake as a cinematic Mulligan, a celluloid do-over. And as such it worked. Some of the characters were changed slightly, and the timing and pacing was shuffled a bit. The end result made for a far more coherent movie, where the reason for the original haunting was better explained without being dumbed down. The reveal of the original murders was moody and creepy, and the addition of the object of jealousy (Bill Pullman as a university teacher) was inspired. The remake kept many of the elements that worked brilliantly from the first, but scrapped what didn't make sense and didn't fit. And while the ending of Ju-on had a creepy apocolyptic ending that I think worked amazingly well, it was the only way in which it topped its successor.
So now I'm a sell out. Hollywood can make good horror. Let's face it...The Ring was one of the creepiest movies to come out of a major studio in years. And while it was also a remake of the Japanese film Ringu, it had an American director who had never done a horror film before unless you count The Mexican with Brad Pitt. And it was a better, more stylish, and downright creepier movie than the one which inspired it.
Now to the reason this is all relevant. The Hollywood remake of the Japanese thriller Dark Water is coming out soon. I haven't seen the original, but it's by the same person who wrote Ringu, so it has to be scarry. If history is any indicator, this could be another case of more money and bigger studio equals better movie. I guess only time will tell, but remember that I said it here first.
When The Grudge came out with Sarah Michelle Gellar, I read the reviews which said it was okay, but not nearly as good as the original Japanese Ju-on. Even thought it was made by the same director and had key actors reprising their roles, most importantly the creepy kid who played Toshio, I believed, without a second thought, that the original had to be better. But being the impatient media whore that I am, I went to see the remake in theatres rather than wait for the release of the original on DVD.
Well, I after letting it sit on my shelf for months, I finally watched Ju-on. And heaven help me, it wasn't as good as the remake. Sam Rami did a brilliant thing as a producer on The Grudge: he gave the original film maker more of a budget to make the movie he had wanted the other attempts to be. It was, in a very real sense, not so much of a remake as a cinematic Mulligan, a celluloid do-over. And as such it worked. Some of the characters were changed slightly, and the timing and pacing was shuffled a bit. The end result made for a far more coherent movie, where the reason for the original haunting was better explained without being dumbed down. The reveal of the original murders was moody and creepy, and the addition of the object of jealousy (Bill Pullman as a university teacher) was inspired. The remake kept many of the elements that worked brilliantly from the first, but scrapped what didn't make sense and didn't fit. And while the ending of Ju-on had a creepy apocolyptic ending that I think worked amazingly well, it was the only way in which it topped its successor.
So now I'm a sell out. Hollywood can make good horror. Let's face it...The Ring was one of the creepiest movies to come out of a major studio in years. And while it was also a remake of the Japanese film Ringu, it had an American director who had never done a horror film before unless you count The Mexican with Brad Pitt. And it was a better, more stylish, and downright creepier movie than the one which inspired it.
Now to the reason this is all relevant. The Hollywood remake of the Japanese thriller Dark Water is coming out soon. I haven't seen the original, but it's by the same person who wrote Ringu, so it has to be scarry. If history is any indicator, this could be another case of more money and bigger studio equals better movie. I guess only time will tell, but remember that I said it here first.
Friday, June 03, 2005
Just the beginning
It dissapoints me, really. The best album of the year last year, and no one has heard it. Correction. I have subjected several people to the sublime sound of the Honeydogs masterpiece 10,000 Years, but mainstream success has eluded them. And now I fear that the new Ben Folds album will also fly beneath the radar.
His first single, "Landed" is just flat out stunning. Powerful, sweeping, poignant, and just a great pop rock tune. Why is it that a certain aspect of music gets labeled alternative and thus becomes the norm while truly alternative music gets sidelined?
Do yourself a favor. Find "Landed". Yes, it is Ben Folds doing what he does best, rocking out on a piano with some of the most genuine lyrics around. You will not be dissapointed.
Unless your idea of music is Mudvane or Clay Aiken. I make no promises under those conditions. And while I can appreciate the above artists contributions to pop culture, well, it's really apples and oranges.
-T
His first single, "Landed" is just flat out stunning. Powerful, sweeping, poignant, and just a great pop rock tune. Why is it that a certain aspect of music gets labeled alternative and thus becomes the norm while truly alternative music gets sidelined?
Do yourself a favor. Find "Landed". Yes, it is Ben Folds doing what he does best, rocking out on a piano with some of the most genuine lyrics around. You will not be dissapointed.
Unless your idea of music is Mudvane or Clay Aiken. I make no promises under those conditions. And while I can appreciate the above artists contributions to pop culture, well, it's really apples and oranges.
-T
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