Yesterday was kind've a crap day. It was sweltering hot. Work was a series of flaming hurdles and spike-laden pitfalls. My ear continues to scream like a car alarm. The water temperature in our shower is still permanently fixed on the "Dragon's breath" setting. All in all, it sucked.
But today was a new day. A fresh start. The first day in a new month. So herewith a broad ranging look towards the figurative horizon.
1. Buck up, campers! It's August! Sure, it's hot as the surface of the sun, but we still have a full month of Summertime left! Moreover, September and October are tucked just behind that, and if you can't appreciate the splendor of the fall (especially in New York City), you should go get yourself into some therapy.
2. The "End Times" may be nigh. This according to a recent report by CNN's Paula Zahn and, really, who better to harbinge the apocalypse than the noxious Miss Z? As if sticking a microphone anywhere near Reverend Jerry Falwell's corpulent, crap-spewing mouth wasn't stupid enough, Zahn -- and other members of the media (mostly of the idiotic conservative variety) -- have been further fanning the flames of near-heroic stupidity by irresponsibly citing the tenuous correllations between recent events in the Middle East and depictions of "the Tribulations" from the scripture that whistle-headed Christian fundamentalists (and other religious assholes) unwaiveringly espouse. CNN was supposed to be a news network, wasn't it?
3. Speaking of "end times," evidently there's a full-scale Asia reunion afoot, begging the question: who let this happen? The original pop-prog foursome who birthed such classics as "Heat of the Moment" have re-convened and are playing in what is essentially the basement of my office for a couple of dates in September. Featuring ex-members of King Crimson, Yes, ELP and…er…the Buggles, the original Asia line-up flexed some serious prog muscle (at their filligree-laden proggiest on their debut's opening cut, "Sole Survivor"), but scored bigger points with straight-ahead fare like the afore-mentioned "Heat.." and the endearingly histrionic and not-just-a-little-bitter breakup ballad "Only Time Will Tell." (sample lyric: The Brightest Ring Around the Moon will Darken When I Die). I must confess that although they almost singularly personified everything that Punk Rock sought to destroy, Asia still managed to infiltrate my disc collection. Their ludicrously dragon-adorned debut LP is virtually inseparable from my recollections of freshman year of high school, its hoary, windswept bloat and glossy overproduction incongruously scoring the sepia-toned filmstrips of that era that run in my head. While I'd rather prematurely donate an organ to scientific experimention than subject myself to an Asia reunion show, I still bust out that disc when I'm reminiscing about my high school days. Sue me.
4. Nicholas Cage must be stopped! As if ruining my beloved Ghost Rider wasn't enough (if you've seen the trailer for the forthcoming film, you know what I'm talking about), Cage will soon be appearing in a re-make of "The Wicker Man," a film that needed to be re-rendered as much as "Planet of the Apes" did (and we all know how well that turned out). A classic film of its age, "The Wicker Man" should be LEFT ALONE. I know it's not solely Cage's fault, but he's easiest to blame. To paraphrase Iron Maiden in their burly ode to the original film, YOUR TIME WILL COME, NICHOLAS!
5. Speaking of the mighty Iron Maiden, it seems the boys are coming back to town -- and on my birthday, no less. Still going strong after three full decades without ever truly compromising their aesthetic, Iron Maiden is one of the few bands who soldier on without making me wince with abject embarassment. You can love'em or hate'em, I don't care -- but you must respect them. While it's arguable that they haven't really made an album worth listening to since 2000's Brave New World, they still put on a ceaselessly entertaining live show. Up the Hammers!
6. I seem to have lost my sunglasses, which has caused me no end of despondency today. I'm assuming they're somewhere in our apartment, but I'll be damned if I can put my hand to them. Failing to find them this morning, I resorted to a lesser-albeit-more-expensive pair my wife convinced me to buy last year that seem to amplify the crooked wrongness of my physiognomy to unfortunate effect. While it seemed like the worst possible omen on a day with record-breaking temperatures, today did not turn out to suck the gigantic tube of rancid bean paste I expected it would. Still, they were my favorite pair. :::sigh:::
7. New music worth listening to has surfaced, at long last. After a long, dull period wherein nothing seemed to be capturing my attention, let alone my imagination, I've stumbled upon a small clutch of new music that has re-kindled my adoration for that which rocks. For a start, "Knights of Cydonia," the new single/video from Muse's latest album, Black Holes & Revelations is hugely, rockingly fantastic, and boasts a video that is so ridiculously over-the-top that it may very well be the greatest thing ever. Maybe. Similarly, "Over & Over" by the geeky British weirdos in Hot Chip boasts not only a hilarious vid, but is a fab tune as well. Lastly, fans of the Beastie Boys' seminal sample-blitzkrieg, Paul's Boutique should seek out the entirely elusive album, Night Ripper by copywright-oblivious d.j., Girl Talk. Splicing snippets of artists ranging from the Pharcyde, X-Ray Spex and Boston through Elastica, James Taylor and Billy Squier, Night Ripper is a dizzying work and a blistering lawsuit just waiting to happen. Huge props to the incalculably cool James M. for hipping me to this. Seek it out, as once it's gone, it assuredly won't be comin' back.
8. August means Video Music Awards time over at the Job. As such, the stress level at the office is already at defcon four and promises to worsen as the month plods along. The event itself isn't until the final Thursday of the month, but the ramp-up has already begun. Watch this space.
9. Get Scuzzy! Two pals of mine from the Gathering have gone into business under the name of Scuzzy Industries to bring you the finest of boardwear, surfwear, divewear and anywear! It's damn fine stuff, and they're exceptionally swell fellas, so click away and adorn thyselves accordingly. I already have two shirts of theirs, and little Oliver has seen fit to spit up on both, and a finer indication of quality cannot be had, as Oliver only regurgitates on the finest of textiles!
10. Doings at Camp Killing Joke are encouragingly afoot, according to this recent missive on the otherwise long dormant "official website." Most welcome is the news that the second batch of re-mastered re-releases from the band's illustrious back-catalog will surface as soon as the fall, including a long-overdue re-handling of one of my all time favorite albums, Night Time. Apart from that, erstwhile and estranged members of the `Joke -- notably Martin "Youth" Glover and Flaming Pablum favorite Big Paul Ferguson -- have mended fences to form a new band dubbed Transmission. I, for one, am well pleased.
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