Telecom Amnesty Redux

On Tuesday, February 12, the United States Senate passed the Protect American Act with telecom amnesty. You can get a more in depth analysis thanks to the invaluable Glenn Greenwald, here.

Since the last time I wrote the Senate Republicans and Senate Democrats struck a deal on all of the pending amendments. The amendments either needed the usual fifty votes to pass or in special occasions they required sixty votes to pass. So, for example, the Dodd amendment that would strip the bill of telecom amnesty only required fifty votes, since the Republicans figured they could get enough Democrats to go against the rule of law, but another amendment by Diane Feinstein that would have review of any illegal activity conducted by the FISA courts themselves behind closed doors, required sixty votes because Democrats might actually vote for it. Sure enough, the Feinstein amendment received over fifty but less than sixty votes. In other words, the Democrats agreed to a deal where they increased the number of necessary votes for certain amendments to make sure the bill passed the Senate in the shape the president wanted it.

Well, is that it, have the telephone companies gotten away with breaking the law? Not quite, thanks to a bicameral legislature it still has to pass the House.

Luckily, the House actually has a spine and allowed the Protect America Act to expire rather than pass a permanent law that included telecom amnesty. This means the U.S. can still gather intelligence under FISA and despite what the fear mongers in Washington like to say, we can still listen in on potential enemies even if we have to go through the pesky "judicial branch" and respect "separation of power."

If you are listening to the Republicans then you might think that Osama Bin Laden can waltz right across our boarders and steal the secret Bush's Baked Bean recipe (yes, that's right, Duke is a part of Al Qaeda). This is obvious fear mongering and it's a wonder it has not been called out as obvious fear mongering more often. Maybe this small amount of defiance from the House will teach other Democrats that all they have to do is make their case to the American people, and when they do the world will not explode. Maybe other Democrats will realize that you don't have to do everything Bush tells you to in order to look "tough on terror." Maybe? Or maybe it's too much to ask.

Kentucky Fights Ohio Over a Rock!

The New York Times has one of the greatest newspaper articles I've read in a long time. It concerns Ohio, Kentucky, and a rock. When all three converge you know that a' trouble's a' brewin'! I will summarize the article but you really need to get the information straight from the Times, if only because it's very well written.

In Postsmouth, Ohio, local historian Steve Shaffer had a lifelong obsession with a local landmark called Indian Head Rock. The rock is famous for a stick figure drawing of a face of unknown origins as well as the names of many Portsmouth families from yesteryear whose ancestors still reside there today (yes, this is in Southern Ohio). The stick figure head is thought to be a Native American petroglyph, hence the name Indian Head Rock. When the Ohio River's water line rose due to dam construction, the rock was lost to time. Shaffer, remembering the rock in his local history course in middle school, decided in his adult years to take a diving team into the Ohio River and after a difficult search recovered the rock from the river floor.

After raising the rock, however, Ohio's neighbors to the south became upset. That's right, Kentucky thought we were stealing their rock! Apparently there is a shortage of rocks in Kentucky just as there is a shortage of college degrees and family trees. There are, however, a plethora of mullets and racists. The Kentucky legislature passed a bill demanding that the rock be returned. One of their legislators even suggested a raiding party. Not to be outdone one of our House members declared that he would defend the rock with his shotgun if need be.

The NY Times also has a video of their Indian Head Rock story.

If all goes well this will lead to a new civil war. It's time to put these rebels in their place a second time. Oh, Kentucky was a part of the Union you say? Well, we'll redraw the Mason Dixon line. Ahhhh, I see, they were also a slave state. Now that makes sense.

Rockabye Baby!

Kids who listened to music in the 90's are having babies!

That's the impression I got when I saw this celebrity endorsement by Metallica's Kirk Hammett for the Rockabye Baby! collection. If you haven't heard, Rockabye Baby! is a collection of albums that takes rock music classics and rearranges them into lullabies for your kids. Remember, buy the album and don't download!




I don't know what's creepier, the music or when Kirk Hammett says "lullabies for baaaabies." Although, I will admit that I would rather listen to old Metallica reworked for children than their last few albums. Albeit, their newer stuff might be more effective in putting me to sleep.

I wonder how much control the artists have over stuff like this. Is this just the record companies selling out their artists or was it Courtney Love who gave Rockabye Baby! the right to cover Heart Shaped Box? I suppose legally it's not dissimilar to any old band covering a classic song on their latest album. Judging by Kirk Hammett's smile he's at least getting paid for his crappy music again.

And speaking of sleeping babies:



Hey, that baby wasn't just sleepy, that baby was drunk! In fact I finished off a keg with that baby last weekend. Poser passed out.

Times New Viking - Rip It Off

Times New Viking – Rip It Off (5/5)

Before Times New Viking released Rip It Off on Matador, their first album in the big little leagues, many were questioning whether they would stubbornly maintain their lo-lo-fi aesthetic. Would Times New Viking sell out by not recording on four tracks and maybe even hire a bass player? Maybe it was the punk rock in all of us that thought moving to another (admittedly still independent) label would have forced the band to clean up their sound. These days independents have been making great commercial strides, even getting their bands onto Billboard’s top ten. How long would it be for them to become the new majors? I’m here to say, don’t fear the four-track: all is well with Times New Viking’s latest opus.

While Rip It Off sounds a lot like their last two records, that’s not to say that the band has been completely stagnant. Those who loved the songs of their last album, but hated the recording, will find even catchier pop snippets underneath the static, and those who also loved the high end static will find plenty of that as well. In other words, those who think Times New Viking’s lo-fi shtick is just a gimmick probably won’t be too happy about Rip It Off. One thing Rip It Off is not, is a please everybody album.

The album contains their cleanest song to date, “Drop-Out,” which sounds like it could possibly be played on the radio so long as the station was just barely in range and you had crappy reception to begin with. But that’s about as clear as it gets. “My Head” belies its friendly beats with the mantra “I need more money, because I need more drugs,” which also happens to be one of the few lyrics one can make out underneath the white noise. “The Wait” slows things down to mid-tempo and could conceivably be played at a high school dance in some alternate punk rock universe. “The End of All Things” has an acoustic outro that gives the static a rest for about twenty seconds or so.

I know there are plenty of people who will ask, if Times New Viking are writing pop songs, then what’s the point of obscuring them with a crappy recording? Perhaps the answer can be found in the same reaction some of us had to Times New Viking’s jump to Matador: punk rock guilt. If you start making songs lots of people like, eventually you’ll get people listening to your music who you would rather not show up at the show singing your lyrics. Or perhaps the answer isn’t quite as elitist. Maybe they just like the sound of static as much as the sound of a keyboard? There is a certain aura to lo-fi albums that recalls listening to a friend’s band in his parent’s garage back in high school. Just because technology has reached the stage where musicians can do just about anything, doesn’t mean they should actually do just about anything. There are those of us who think four tracks are plenty for a rock album. There’s a reason no one actually sits through an entire ELO record anymore.

Whenever a band makes a jump to a bigger label the speculation about where they’re headed begins. Rip It Off gives several clues. The band’s songwriting has been recalibrated for more hooks per song (although nothing tops “Teenagelust!” from their last album). Does this mean one day they might stop sounding like they recorded at the bottom of Lake Erie? Their most pertinent audio and geographical forebears, Guided By Voices, eventually succumbed to the sins of a big studio album. Will Times New Viking someday make their own Isolation Drills? Perhaps, but until then I’ll be perfectly happy for Times New Viking to bang out a couple more albums that pack sixteen songs into a sardine-can-sized half-hour.

Kids Trash Robert Frost's House

Several days ago the Vermont home of Robert Frost was desecrated by a gaggle of teenagers. About thirty kids trudged up to the now historical Robert Frost home with lots of beer and lots of liquor. After several hours of partying they broke windows, smashed antique furniture, and urinated and vomited where they pleased. Eventually the kids were found out and prosecuted (apparently trying to get thirty teenagers to keep a secret is more difficult than getting a cat to take a bath).

Why?

Well, obviously they thought Ezra Pound was, like, soooooooooo much better and that Robert Frost was a total freak, ya know?

I don't pretend to be terribly knowledgeable about Frost. I've read a few poems and I've even liked a few. At times his reputation seems almost too quintessentially rural American. At one point this down home reputation had to be swept under the rug by critics who wanted to save Robert Frost. They argued that he was just as dark and neurotic as any Modern poet.

It was probably this fallacious belief in the myth of the wholesome Frost that made his home such a tempting target. Who doesn't go through a phase where you want to tear down symbols of virtue? Here's one of my favorite Frost poems "Birches." It's about kids "swinging" trees. I used to do the same thing when I was younger, but back then we called it "parachuting" trees.

"Birches"

When I see birches bend to left and right
Across the lines of straighter darker trees,
I like to think some boy's been swinging them.
But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay.
Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them
Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning
After a rain. They click upon themselves
As the breeze rises, and turn many-coloured
As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.
Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells
Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust
Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away
You'd think the inner dome of heaven had fallen.
They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load,
And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed
So low for long, they never right themselves:
You may see their trunks arching in the woods
Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground,
Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair
Before them over their heads to dry in the sun.
But I was going to say when Truth broke in
With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm,
I should prefer to have some boy bend them
As he went out and in to fetch the cows--
Some boy too far from town to learn baseball,
Whose only play was what he found himself,
Summer or winter, and could play alone.
One by one he subdued his father's trees
By riding them down over and over again
Until he took the stiffness out of them,
And not one but hung limp, not one was left
For him to conquer. He learned all there was
To learn about not launching out too soon
And so not carrying the tree away
Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise
To the top branches, climbing carefully
With the same pains you use to fill a cup
Up to the brim, and even above the brim.
Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish,
Kicking his way down through the air to the ground.
So was I once myself a swinger of birches.
And so I dream of going back to be.
It's when I'm weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig's having lashed across it open.
I'd like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate wilfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth's the right place for love:
I don't know where it's likely to go better.
I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree~
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.

I can't help but think that somehow the poem is relevant.

Here is a clip from one of my favorite video games of all time, Grim Fandango, which pays homage to one of America's most prestigious poets:



My favorite line from that game: "Run you pigeons, it's Robert Frost!"

Telecom Amnesty Again

Over the past several days the "Protect America Act" was the center of a contentious Senate debate. If you've been parsing through news sources you may have actually heard of this development (because most of the major news networks have essentially ignored the story; they're too worried about inaccurate polling to care about little things like The Constitution).

Here's an older story I wrote in 2007 and here's someone much smarter than myself explaining the outcome of the last several days. The following is a little overview.

As I mentioned before, attempts to update the purview of the FISA courts so that they can oversee new technological advances (e-mail, etc.) has been the subject of much back and forth over the past several months. Expanding the ability to monitor these new lines of communication with a court order is pretty uncontroversial in the Senate. Both Democrats and Republicans agree to updating the law to achieve this affect. The previous FISA bill that achieved monitoring of new technologies is about to expire in February which leaves the Senate with two options: 1) comprise on a bill now or 2) extend the previous FISA bill for another thirty days.

However, the Republicans have included in the bill telecom amnesty for those telephone companies who allowed Bush to spy on American citizens without a warrant. I have gone into the importance of denying phone companies telecom amnesty in my previous post on the subject.

For the past several days the Republicans have claimed that if the FISA bill is not updated then Al Qaeda will invade your home and sleep with your wife. Paradoxically, Bush has claimed that he will veto the FISA bill if it does not have telecom amnesty and will also veto a thirty day extension of the previous bill. What? So according to his own rhetoric, he would rather have Al Qaeda sleep with the wives of American citizens than wait another month for a compromise or let the courts decide (rather than the legislature) whether the telephone companies broke the law. Is that the kind of talk you would hear from someone who wants to protect America at all costs?

Thankfully, the Democrats decided to grow a vertebra and actually stood up to Bush. To prevent any amendments to the bill that would have potentially stripped the bill of telecom amnesty, the Republicans enacted a cloture vote. Cloture ends all debate and any potential amendments. In order to achieve cloture the Republicans would have had to get sixty votes. They lost by twelve votes. Even one of their own, Senator Arlen Specter, voted against cloture. In a tit-for-tat move the Republicans then prevented the Democrats from getting cloture on the thirty day extension.

Here is Chris Dodd arguing against cloture on the Senate floor:


So, where does this leave us? As far as I can tell, back at the beginning. The bill will expire in early February meaning that the new technology will be off limits to eavesdropping but regular phone communication will be fair game for FISA just like it has been since the FISA courts were created way back before September 11th 2001. Expect Republicans to take advantage of the confusing nature of this bill by claiming that we can no longer listen in on Al Qaeda. We can. We could before September 11th and we will be able to well into the future.

There's some real momentum against telecom amnesty. When the bill was introduced in 2007 Chris Dodd lead a successful campaign against it. Only about a dozen Democrats stood up with him. Now the vast majority of Democrats are at least ready to hear him out. In another month or so who knows, maybe we'll actually beat telecom amnesty. I'll close with another video of Dodd way back in 2007 when he placed a hold on the FISA bill that contained telecom amnesty. It's a great summation of how far gone the ideals of America have become over the last seven years.

Persepolis

Persepolis (5/5)

Persepolis is a kind of film rarely seen in America: an animated film for adults. When I say “adult” I’m not referring to the ultra-violent zaniness found in Japanese animation or the double entendres meant to go over children’s heads in movies like Shrek, I’m referring to a complicated protagonist attempting to simultaneously understand and manage overpowering change in the world around her. I don’t think Bugs Bunny had the same depth of problems that Marjane Satrapi has (of course, I supposed he was struggling with living in Hobbes’s nature during that whole rabbit season/duck season debacle). Even referencing Bugs seems a bit silly since animation has supposedly evolved to encompass many genres beyond children’s film. Or at least outside of the United States boarders it has, and I’m sure no one would be surprised to learn that Persepolis has French subtitles.

Persepolis is based on an autobiographical comic book by Marjane Satrapi about growing up in Iran, being sent to Europe during her adolescents, and returning as she transitions into an adult. Growing up during the Iranian revolution, Marjane has a sense of wonder about the chaos around her. She becomes particularly intrigued by her uncle, a communist who was jailed and was only recently released from prison. Fueled by her uncle’s stories and her parents political involvement she rallies a group of neighborhood kids to chase the son of an Iranian torturer so that they can gouge out his eyes with nails. They are stopped by an adult before the bloody deed is done. Marjane even begins talking back to her teacher in school, contradicting the Iranian status quo. After the Ayatollah comes to power Marjane’s family fears what will happen to their outspoken daughter and decide to send her with some friends in Europe.

Once in Europe Marjane wrestles with the travails of puberty while trying to reconcile her exotic Iranian heritage with her adolescent need to fit in. At first she stays at a Catholic boarding school, but when one of the nuns affronts Iranians Marjane makes the uncouth comment that all nuns were once prostitutes. This leads to her moving out into a series of living arrangements as well as a string of boyfriends. When she discovers one of her boyfriends in bed with another woman, Marjane becomes despondent and gets kicked out of her apartment and winds up living on the streets. It would be easy to shrug off Marjane’s self-destructive behavior as her being a self-involved teen. It would be easy except that when Marjane wakes up in a hospital from malnutrition she chastises herself for becoming upset over a relationship when her own uncle was subject to incarceration for merely speaking his mind. It’s this kind of self-reflection that prevents the film from falling into the kind of narcissism that plagues so many other coming of age stories. After her brush with death Marjane decides to return to Iran where she must confront the intolerance of a government run by a religion.

Like the comic book the animation is deceptively simple. The film is mostly black and white and the characters are drawn with thick lines. Anyone who’s read the comic book will wonder whether they fit in most of the original medium. While the filmmakers do a good job at referencing many of Marjane’s stories, many of the vignettes are necessarily truncated. However, this is hardly a downfall of the film which utilizes animation to communicate Marjane’s tale as succinctly as possible. When she falls in love with a boy, for example, we see her floating above the ground with him, which, for a teenage romance, is just about all the audience needs to know. Each moment of the film is, like the animation, told clearly and simply, but as the film moves forward the moments gather greater strength. It’s like the filmmakers are putting down one pebble after anther until, before you know it, they’ve constructed an entire wall.

The intellectual middle class nature of Marjane’s family seems so familiar that I often found myself wondering what I would do if suddenly transplanted in a country where you could be jailed for walking with someone of the opposite sex who wasn’t related to you and, worst of all, alcohol was banned. Persepolis is a needed reminder that small minded rulers too often rule over a more enlightened populace (it says something that the same sentence could describe the state of today’s America). For all the talk of cultural differences, it should be remembered that certain ideals can be disseminated by dialogue, even if they’re unsuccessfully translated through the barrel of a gun.

Someone Else's Headline, My Pictures

Gazans Knock Down Boarder, Flee to Egypt to Shop





























Headline comes from the January 24th Issue of the Boston Metro Free Newspaper.

Photos of day after thanksgiving from the internets.

Times New Viking's Broken Van Story

The whole "broken van" story has become a rock and roll staple. Every band has to have a story where their van breaks down and they have to mix with the local populace. Usually the bands come from some major city so it's really a play on the fish out of water tale. In this case the band in question is Columbus's Times New Viking who wind up in Montana. It's probably my favorite "broken van" story in quite some time.

I'm particularly partial to the deaf mechanics and the David Lynch references.

Here's Times New Viking performing a song from their debut album "Dance Walhalla" live. Their live sound varies differently from their "studio" sound, but unlike most bands they sound clearer live.



Here's another video of some dude dancing to the studio version of "Little Amps" off their second album The Paisley Reich:



Their newest album, Rip it Off, is their debut on Matador Records and rears its ugly head in record stores everywhere on January 22nd.

Juno

Juno (4.5/5)

The first question of importance about Juno is, why doesn’t the main character get an abortion? The obvious answer is that an abortion would have simply ended the plot. Sober reality does not mesh with wacky hijinks. It’s important to pause and think about the abortion issue for a minute since it was similarly passed over in Knocked Up. Is this some kind of right to life conspiracy? Hardly, I think it is the simple fact that abortion doesn’t have a place in comedy, while pregnancy is a regular comedic staple even if it’s a pregnant sixteen year-old. Whether you are pro-choice or pro-life, abortion is too complex an issue for a movie about a sardonic teenager. If you’re interested in that kind of a story it would be better to watch Lake of Fire or 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days .

Juno is the title character of the film who winds up Knocked Up by the kid from Superbad, who under any other circumstances would have grown up to be a 40 Year-Old Virgin (where’s my check Judd Apatow!?). After a disastrous visit to a planned pregnancy agency (Juno decides to go to Women Now “because they help women now”) the sixteen year-old decides to carry the child to term. However, instead of keeping the child Juno decides to take responsibility by, conversely, giving the child away to a young yuppie couple who cannot have a child of their own. The issue of teenage pregnancy and premarital pregnancy is both all too common and at the same time commonly feared. Whether you know someone who has been in that situation, have children who could be in that situation, or could be in that situation yourself, it’s a pervasive problem at all levels of society, which in turn makes it perfectly suited for comedy. Too often these off-beat comedies with quirky characters come off as mean spirited or look down on their characters and by extension look down on their audience (*cough* Napoleon Dynamite *cough*). This is not the case with Juno which treats every character as simultaneously flawed and heroic. There is no villain, and even though Juno may fight with her stepmother, her stepmother is not the easy caricature of a joke she would have been in lesser hands, instead she too has her moment of heroics when she defends Juno from a snarky ultrasound technician.

Juno is also one of the few American films to include the subtext of economic class in America. Most movie jobs happen to be something ridiculously specific, like someone who's job is to provides seat fillers for celebrity weddings for when guests don't show up, and at the last minute the director decides a meta-cameo by Julia Roberts is the one thing the film really needs. By contrast Juno's father is an AC repairman. While Juno lives in a cluttered household somewhere in the lower range of middle class, the adopting couple lives in a pristine McMansion, complete with disgustingly cute pictures of themselves that line the staircase. Juno’s stepmother addresses this issue by claiming that the couple could actually be worse parents than Juno would be. There is something of a Brad and Angelina quality to a couple who would lift a child from its less well off roots into a life of means assuming that more money automatically means a better life, but at the same time it would be difficult to argue that a sixteen year old, without an education and whose family may not have the level of finances to provide for a grandchild, would necessarily be the best caretaker for her child. It would have been nice for these issues to be addressed directly by the script instead of quite literally being put into the background through set design, but they are nevertheless present in a film market where class is almost always invisible.

My one complaint is that of the soundtrack. While there are some nice selections like The Kinks, Buddy Holly, and in a pivotal scene Sonic Youth’s “Superstar,” the most common artist, Kimya Dawson, is a little too twee for my tastes. Supposedly Juno is a big fan of bands like The Runaways and The Stooges, but instead of a punk soundtrack we get self-consciously cute acoustic numbers. I will give credit to films like Juno that move beyond the cliché Forest Gump songs, which were obvious and too on the nose to be effective, and mine some previously uncovered gems from The KinksI will also give credit to films that highlight contemporary artists. At the same time, rock music did not die in 1969 and there is more to contemporary indie rock than middling acoustic pop.

Perhaps I’m being greedy, and the more that a filmmaker gives me the more I ask for. I suppose it should be enough to have a film with genuine characters, nuanced humor, and some good rather than great songs.

Song of the New Year

Almost everyone has a song of the Summer, and I'm no exception, but ever since college, and beyond, I've always had a song of the New Year. It's pretty much the song that defined my holiday break. I can still remember that during my Sophomore year of college it was The Clash's "Rudie Can't Fail." Well, during these holidays it was the inimitable "What's Up" by 4 Non Blondes.

Here are a few highlights of the music video: it's wildly out of sync and watch out for the people venting their frustration while spinning on a merry go round (which I think was the same advice I received from the last fortune cookie I ate).




Hmmmmmm, I didn't know Jamiroquai sang that song.










Or was it that guy from the Counting Crows?

Peter Jackson and The Hobbit

After a contentious battle between Peter Jackson and New Line Cinema over revenues from the Rings trilogy, the two have finally made nice, put a couple of flowers in each others hair, and smoked the peace pipe (or whatever Pippin and Merry were smoking in those movies). Peter Jackson was upset because he felt New Line was hiding some of the profits of the Ring movies and requested an audit, which New Line refused. Jackson then went the route of suing New Line.

What's changed? Well, The Golden Compass bombed for one thing, meaning New Line was left without a flagship fantasy series. Also, they both probably realized that they could make boatloads of money on The Hobbit so all this fussin' and a fightin' was worthless.

To make things more complicated, MGM had a distribution deal, and supposedly, through some weird system, owned part of The Hobbit as well. A while back, MGM then claimed that a Hobbit film would not go through unless Jackson was on board. Much of this is speculation and rumor.

It looks like Jackson won't be directing, but rather producing where he will sign off on all creative aspects of the film. This is fine by me since The Hobbit has a much more innocent tone than the Ring trilogy. My vote is for Peter Weir and maybe he can find a role for Harrison Ford since most of Ford's best work was with Weir. Although, I hear that if the plot doesn't revolve around Ford saving his family then he's out. You can find a more detailed story here.

It looks like things are moving along much faster than anticipated. I found some test screenings here:




Leonard Nimoy as Gandalf? Stranger things have happened...

Telecom Amnesty

I won't get into all of the how a bill becomes a law stuff. Who really needs a definition of cloture?

On the road to being signed by George W. is a law revamping the FISA courts, but what's really important is what's tucked away in this law, a Christmas present to Sprint, Verizon, AT&T, and the other telephone companies that complied with the White House's illegal wiretapping program: retroactive amnesty.

Despite the obvious fourth amendment violations there are also federal laws targeting private companies who spy on American citizens. In the bill presented to the Senate there was a provision granting these telecom companies amnesty from any past wrongs related to spying on Americans. It's a good old fashion get out of jail free card courtesy of our government.

There are several arguments that have been trotted out in defense of telecom amnesty:

The telecom companies were just doing their patriotic duty by helping out the government.

If by "patriotic duty" you mean the White House threatened to withdraw profitable government contracts if the telecom companies didn't comply, then you're onto something. Apparently Qwest, the only company to refuse the White House's request (or should I say, re"qwest"?...oh, I shouldn't, sorry) claim that profitable contracts were withdrawn when they did not cooperate. It's not surprising that these corporations were more concerned with the bottom line than "patriotic duty." Besides, what's so patriotic about helping the government break the fourth amendment? Isn't that the exact opposite of patriotism?

Those poor telecom companies didn't know what they were doing. They were confused when the big bad White House pressured them into breaking the law.

Multi-million dollar companies have multi-million dollar lawyers. I know there are a lot of dumb people graduating from law school but they don't work for Fortune 500 companies. Besides, Qwest's lawyers obviously knew it was wrong, and if I remember correctly ignorance of the law is not an excuse.

Because the White House coerced these companies into breaking the law, we should go after the White House instead of the telephone companies.

There was a reason why the federal laws specifically mention private companies. It doesn't matter who's spying, or whether it is the fourth amendment or federal statute as presiding law, the simple fact is they broke the law. Besides, thanks to executive privilege run amok, suing the phone companies might be the only means of discovering the breadth of government spying. There is a reason why Bush is threatening to veto any FISA bill, regardless of whether or not it gives him everything else he wants, if the bill does not contain telecom amnesty. If the telephone companies are sued then they will be forced to hand over loads of information to the courts, which in turn will likely implicate the White House in a violation of the fourth amendment. I don't think the president can pardon himself if he's the one in jail. However, if the White House itself is prosecuted, then they can merely claim executive privilege - as the argument goes, handing over documents could hurt national security so the White House, unlike the rest of the country, does not have to do so. This leaves any prosecution with zero evidence to support a fourth amendment violation.

But there is an "intelligence gap" between us and the terrorists, and if we don't pass a bill that revises FISA quickly, then Al Qaeda will come over here blow up our babies, use their blood for 'dem 'der Rahamadajan ritual, and convert them to Islam...but not in that order.

Which is why there is an identical bill that can be brought to the floor of the Senate that both revises FISA and removes telecom amnesty. It is called the RESTORE act. Why that is not on the floor of the Senate and telecom amnesty is, I have no idea. Assuming you buy into the argument that FISA must be revised or we could face another attack, then why would Bush risk another attack by vetoing a FISA bill just because it doesn't immunize the telephone companies from the law. Hmmm...something to think about.

Just when it looked like telecom amnesty was going to the floor of the Senate to be voted on, where it would inevitably pass, presidential candidate Chris Dodd swooped in from Iowa to lead a filibuster. Ignoring his own party's leaders he argued passionately against telecom amnesty. Here is an excerpt:



And you thought that Chris Dodd was just some guy who was always on the very far side of the debate stage who looked peculiarly like your grandfather. Here's a link to another segment of his speech. Despite Dodd's impassioned speech a vast majority of Senators, Republican and Democrat alike, voted to bring this version of the FISA bill, telecom amnesty and all, to the floor of the Senate. The handful who voted against it: Boxer (California), Brown (Ohio), Cantwell (Washington), Cardin (Maryland), Dodd (Connecticut), Feingold (Wisconsin), Harkin (Iowa), Kerry (Massachusetts), Menendez (New Jersey), Wyden (Oregon). (On a side note, being from Ohio I feel like my vote for Sherrod Brown was the one vote from which I received action rather than talk).

Despite these votes, thanks to Dodd's filibuster, the Senate majority leader, Harry Reid (D), reluctantly took the bill off the Senate floor. Reid ignored a hold that Dodd placed on the bill to prevent it from reaching the Senate floor, forcing Dodd to filibuster. Instead of respecting Dodd's hold, as he has with the holds of many Republicans, Reid decided to bring forth the FISA bill with telecom amnesty, rather than the RESTORE bill without telecom amnesty.

It looks like the bill will come around again in the New Year, so if you want to show your support by typing your name and e-mail onto a petition expressing disappointment with Harry Reid, you can do so here.

In closing, here is a thank you from Dodd to all of his supporters:

Hugo Chavez's Defeat

In a surprise defeat, today several proposals backed by Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez were voted down. The proposals would have affected Venezuela's Constitution and, among others, would have allowed the president the ability to run for and indefinite number of terms, enact states of emergency indefinitely, and increase the state's role in the economy. The Venezuelan democracy survived by the skin of its teeth with a close 49/51 point spread.

For a while now its been somewhat popular for liberal celebrities to make dignitary visits to Venezuela to show their support for Chavez, and while I think post in the axis of evil, or whatever other catchy name they've come up with now, is highly exaggerated, I find many things to dislike about the man. He is an egomanical leader who has pushed the position of president to the brink of monarchy -- it's the executive branch run amok (sound familiar?). His most egregious act was to shut down a television network off the air earlier this year.

Of course, I will give him his dues. He did provide cheap oil for the needy in Massachusetts and has pushed a series of populist proposals in Venezuela for which the people apparently love him. At least he was actually elected, unlike other presidents. I guess the Venezuelan people decided as much as they like the guy, like most house guests, they don't like him in perpetuity.

Oh well, Chavez is South America's old news. Of all the leftists South American presidents I've always been a bigger fan of Evo Morales. How much do you want to bet his campaign slogan was "Even his names says morals...Morales!" Hey Morales, do ya happen to need a new campaign manager? (call me).

Where does he get those wonderful sweaters?

This of course begs the question of what will happen when Chavez has run out of terms and must leave the presidency? Once thing's for sure, Noam Chomsky is going to have to find a new agent. (call me).

All Star Batman & Robin #8 (1/5)

All Star Batman & Robin #8 (1/5)

This review should be unnecessary. This kind of piss-poor writing and snail paced plot should be dismissed and choked to death with lack of sales. Except that the name Frank Miller is on the cover, which for some people is the mark of quality no matter what. After all this is the man who's comics are turned into box office money and one of the few names non-comic book readers actually recognize. So when his name is on the cover people give him the benefit of the doubt, far too much benefit and far too little doubt.

I'm not a Frank Miller hater by any means. I think he's got a great sense of pulp and I even enjoyed The Dark Knight Strikes Again which was a hilarious send up of the Bush administration. Most people defend All Star Batman & Robin by saying it's a parody of DC comics and shouldn't be taken seriously. I'm all for poking fun at comic book conventions but there's not much that's actually funny. Thanks to Miller's lazy writing most issues have focused on a superhero from the DC showing up briefly but not doing anything to further the plot. In this issue it's Hal Jordan's Green Lantern and the "gag" is he's dumb. The entire scene consists of a rooftop exchange between Hal and Batman. Hal is eating a hot dog (hilarious!) and he's unable to find Batman hiding in the shadows for the first half of the conversation (what a Laruel and Hardy combo!). Batman then calls him a "moron" about fifty times and tells him they'll meet later. In eight issues there has been an issue and a half worth of plot (and this is being generous). The pointless cameos have ground this series to a halt.

If anything All Star Batman & Robin is a parody of Miller's writing style. The over the top violence and "grit" lose all meaning because it's so absurd, and when you start making fun of yourself without realizing it readers are going to look over past work and wonder if they stand up as well as they once thought. The Joker is portrayed as a date raping serial killer. The psychopath Joker characterization too often leads to striping the character of any of his defining personality. Where are the twisted punch lines and tortured logic that's his m.o.? All Miller did was make a generic sociopath and give him white skin and green hair. This is the kind of thing a Frank Miller wannabe does, not the original.

I remember reading that Miller said this series was supposed to be a prequel to his classic The Dark Knight Returns, but I don't get that feeling anywhere. The first sign of of a connection is that the weird shirtless Nazi woman with swastikas painted on her chest makes a brief cameo. So if there are any fans of that flash in the pan Frank Miller creation feel free to pick up this issue but for anyone else stop inflating this man's ego.

The Writers' Strike

The word on the street is that a deal will soon be struck between the robber barons and those Hollywood factory workers, the writers. This has been an interesting development and the first time E! has ever aired real news. Not that I'm singling them out, it has also been the first time in a long time CNN has aired real news as well.

The movie studios were supposed to have been safe. After all, don't they have an endless number of scripts of remakes and sequels locked away in that warehouse at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark? Unfortunately Hollywood forgot just one thing, that each script is tinkered with endlessly by an orgy of writers to make absolutely certain every film is exactly the same. Johnny Depp's next flick, Wolverine, and some others have been the victim of their scripts not being ready. Which begs the question, why is a film being OKed with a subpar script. Shouldn't that be the first thing in place to make a good movie, or have I just answered my own question?

Before the strike began the thought was that since the 1988 strike reality television had caused a shift in the balance of power. After all, no one writes those witty lines for Simon Cowell, that's pure Simon, and American Idol happens to be the most popular show on television. Apparently people don't want fake TV, they want fake TV pretending to be real. Too bad the networks already tried this several years ago with a reality television craze. Too bad most of those shows bombed. Does anybody remember Tommy Lee Goes to College because I certainly don't. I don't suspect there has been much short term damage, even with the immediate death of most "variety shows." Although, I will admit I've been watching less television, not that I watched that much to begin with. Here's a little clip to tide over all you Daily Show fans.



Not surprisingly, the writers have apparently been winning the war of words. I mean who are you going to side with, some rich guy that forced American Idol on the world or the person that makes Stephen Colbert say all those funny things. Writing for a living probably helps get your message across as well. A new poll says that 63 percent of Americans side with the writers.

This is another interesting situation where the internet has given more power to artists and less power to the robber barons. Earlier in the year Radiohead forged their own small revolt by leaking their own album online and then asking people to pay what they want. The writers are using the internet as a means of communication, and now that communication is slowly being democratized, the people are seeing fewer producers being interviewed on CNN and more youtube videos of picket lines. On a level playing field the pen beats the purse every time.

Margot At the Wedding

Margot at the Wedding (4/5)

Margot at the Wedding, previously known by its original title, A Weekend of Dysfunction, is the latest film by auteur Noah Baumbauch. I first heard of Baumbauch when he replaced Owen Wilson as screenplay collaborator with Wes Anderson on the divisive The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou. Both directors share an interest in family dysfunction, which has largely defined Anderson’s later films and Baumbauch’s last film, The Squid and the Whale, was an ugly portrayal of divorce. The difference between Baumbauch and Anderson is that Anderson actually likes people. If there is one thing Margot at the Wedding is not, it’s uplifting.

Margot (Nicole Kidman) takes her son Claude to Long Island for her sister Pauline’s (Jennifer Jason Leigh) marriage to Malcolm (Jack Black). Mentioned, but not present, are Margot’s other son, a third sister, and Margot and Pauline’s mother. In the fine tradition of great short storytellers, Baumbauch uses the great Hemingway analogy of the iceberg for story structure, and while we are privy to plenty of sordid secrets that are unveiled over a series of days, you can’t shake the feeling that there is even more hiding under the water. In other words, it’s the kind of film Freud would gleefully add to his DVD collection.

I’ve never been a big fan of Nicole Kidman but she does a great job as a character who is entirely unredeemable. This isn’t some lovable goof who’s just a little selfish, this is someone who mentally abuses her son, someone who becomes angry at others when they do something altruistic because it makes her feel bad that she wouldn’t do the same thing. There is absolutely nothing likable about Margot. Pauline and Malcolm aren’t too far behind. Malcolm is an unemployed “letter writer” who, when frustrated, is prone to yell profanities at Pauline. Pauline is the most likable of the three but at times can seem weak and it’s suggested that she’s marrying Malcolm out of desperation. John Turturro shows up part way through the film as Jim, Margot’s husband, to remind us that truly good adults do exist, and also to remind us that John Turturro is still a kick ass actor, and to make us wonder why the Coen Brothers didn’t cast him in No Country For Old men since he’s been in most of their movies anyway – I mean, he was Barton Fink in Barton Fink for chrissakes – you would think they could have squeezed him in someplace, maybe a cameo like he has here or something.

With the exception of Jim, the only decent human beings are Claude and his cousin Ingrid. Much like The Squid and the Whale the children are used as proxies by the adults so that they can air out their frustrations and to covertly disseminate damaging secrets without being held accountable. At the end of the film Margot has to make a decision to stay at her son’s side or to leave him behind. I won’t tell you what she decides but at the time I thought it would be better to have them separated.

Unlike The Squid and the Whale the film is more concerned with the adults than the kids so we spend most of the time with characters we cannot relate to and any sort of emotional growth is nonexistent. This is a brave decision when you ask the audience to loath people they’re going to spend two hours with. But why not? There are terrible people in the world and why shouldn’t there be terrible people in movies? Reasons why Margot is so dysfunctional are hinted at but any kind of revealing moment where Margot describes a childhood trauma in detail with “Adagio for Strings” is playing is strictly avoided. Perhaps we could forgive her if the film wasn’t so blatant in its portrayal of Margot’s mental abuse of Claude. I can’t promise everyone will like the film but I can promise it won’t leave your mind quickly.

Southland Tales

Southland Tales (2/5)

Ever since the doomed premier at Cannes, I’ve always been intrigued by Southland Tales. Call it perverse, but I had the same reaction when I heard about Marie Antoinette being booed by the French. In some weird way I thought that the French, who have produced some of the most pretentious films in the world, just didn’t “get it” and here were two films that defied even the culture that gave us Althusser, Lacan, and Derrida. After seeing Marie Antoinette I realized how wrong I was. In fact a few more pretensions would have helped that film. Instead it was an ahistorical mess that obscured the tragedy of a starving nation with pretty shots of cakes and a few good songs. Imagine if in The Last King of Scotland Idi Amin Dada was just a foolish leader who liked to play with army men and was completely unaware of any political executions. For some reason I think Ugandans would have booed that film as well.

This brings me back to Southland Tales, a film for which the word “mess” seems like an understatement. We begin with an overabundance of voiceover, perhaps the laziest cinematic technique in a director’s bag of tricks. The narrator is Pilot Abilene (Justin Timberlake) an Iraq War veteran who carried some facial scars back from the desert. We are informed that after several nuclear attacks Republicans have control of congress and have implemented The Patriot Act on steroids. The Republican presidential contender is Bobby Frost along with the VP candidate Eliot (Robert Frost and T.S. Eliot are quoted throughout the film). Frost’s son in law, Boxer Santaros (played wonderfully by Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson), an action movie star, was lost in the desert but wound up in the arms of porn star Krysta Now (Sarah Michelle Geller), star of a talk show, a hit single (“Teen Horniness is Not a Crime”), and an energy drink which, apparently, is “very, very good.” Boxer has amnesia and is unaware that his wife Madeline (Mandy Moore), Bobby Frost’s daughter, is waiting for him at home, and is also unaware that Krysta Now is in cahoots with a band of Neo-Marxists who plan on framing Boxer for a double homocide in an attempt to sabotage the impending presidential race. In turn, to accomplish their mission the Neo-Marxists have employed the twin brother of a supposed police officer, Roland/Ronald Tavener (Stiffler…er, Sean William Scott), who takes Boxer along with him on his police rounds. Oh, and there is a also Baron Von Westphalen (Wallace Shawn, more commonly known as the guy who says “inconceivable” in A Princess Bride) who has some sort of building off the coast of Venice Beach that promises clean, renewable energy. Don’t worry, I’m not giving much away since you learn this within the first fifteen minutes thanks to the overbearing voiceover. The question I have is how the back jacket to the DVD will read. Inevitably the first line will be “It’s the end of the world…and we all feel fine!”

At even two and a half hours, you would think that the film would have to move along at breakneck speed to fit in so many plots and subplots. Unfortunately this is not the case. Each subplot has only about ten minutes of story arc a piece, maybe Boxer’s is a little longer, but the result is that we forget about Roland/Ronald Tavener’s story for long stretches of time and when he shows up again I couldn’t help but think to myself, “how long as the twin brother been knocked on conscious and left in a garbage bin?” The film would have been better served if it was a series of nominally related shorts that take place in the same universe (note to Richard Kelly: feel free to borrow my idea but I expect revenues!)

One of the problems is that, like Star Wars, these are chapters four, five, and six of a larger story that begins with some comic books I haven’t read. When final revelations are uncovered they’re about incidents that take place off screen and are only briefly mentioned. Similarly, the alliances and double crosses are unclear as well and any shock or suspense is deflated. Despite the immensity of the project, and the fact that twenty minutes have already been trimmed from the final product, you get the feeling that even more could have been cut; the film tries to make confusion a strength anyway and how many scenes do we need of the president’s wife sitting in front of a bunch of surveillance cameras?

The overabundance of characters (the above synopsis covers about half the cast) seem like the result of Richard Kelly thinking about some old sitcom and asking himself “I wonder what John Laroquette from Night Court is doing these days? Or how about the guy from Highlander and while I’m at it I might as well make an allusion to his now forgotten role as Raiden in that Mortal Kombat movie?” In their defense, the actors do a fine job with what they’re given. Dwayne Johnson in particular, playing a schizophrenic paranoid with a series of strange tics, shows he can flourish outside of all those scripts originally written in the eighties for Arnold Schwarzenegger, even if his character is modeled off of Arnold Schwarzenegger. Too bad he wasn’t given material on the same level as his performance. The entire affair feels like a series of non-sequiturs played for two and a half hours, which is fine if someone had told Richard Kelly that a non-sequitur isn’t funny merely because it’s a non-sequitur (although I’ll admit to being a particular fan of the “pimps don’t commit suicide” line, which I’m attempting to use in everyday conversation). The film follows the twenty minutes rule: every twenty minutes something interesting or funny happens. In other words, the DVD cut will probably be about ten minutes long with the dream sequence of Pilot Abilene singing The Killer’s “All These Things That I’ve Done” as an Easter egg extra.

Much of the political commentary seems obvious or outdated, perhaps because the film was written two year ago, but the one idea that has some heft is the use of the CNN split screen. When people watch television several things are gong in different segments of the screen, similar to a twenty-four hour newscast. Images of the Iraq War are played side by side with commercials for Budweiser. The result is that a beer commercial is prized as much as information about Iraq. This post-modern leveling of information is eerie and caused me to question once again why CNN is spending more time talking about celebrity gossip than they are about the military crack downs in Pakistan and Burma. Perhaps this is why allusions to Robert Frost stand alongside an allusion to Paul W.S. Anderson’s Mortal Kombat? The way information is presented in post-modernity we no longer have the ability to judge what information we need and what is filler.

The obvious reference for this kind of film is the tremendous Repo Man, and the finale makes the association obvious, but while Repo Man’s dialogue was consistently memorable, Southland Tales gives us a mere handful of quotables. I have the sinking suspicion that if Southland Tales was just funnier I would be able to accept the fact that it’s a complete and total mess. Richard Kelly has engendered plenty of good will from Donnie Darko, a film that more deftly combines genres, and while Southland Tales is a failure at least it’s an ambitious failure. So while it won’t immediately turn me off from Kelly’s next opus but I can’t promise you I’ll be buying Southland Tales: The Double Disc Special Edition.

Spoon - Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga

Spoon – Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga (5/5)

While Spoon’s sound has never made large evolutionary leaps, they have consistently tweaked their sound enough from album to album to keep their audience interested. If you listen to neighboring albums you might not notice much of a difference but put Telephono up against Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga and you’ll quickly realize that in over ten years they’ve danced across the indie rock spectrum from The Pixies to The Beach Boys. It’s kind of like the sonic equivalent of six-degrees-of-Kevin-Bacon. Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, their latest and arguably best album, continues this trend and is a fine example of craftsmanship and attention to detail without sacrificing what really matters: the songs.

Oftentimes when I hear an album filled with multiple tracks and noise tucked behind the instruments it causes me to roll my eyes and sarcastically exclaim that, whatever band I happen to be listening to, has “just discovered they were recording in a studio.” Here the songs are upfront but Britt Daniel and company have also become interested in painting in the corners. What is amazing is that all of their choices seem like natural extensions of the songwriting. On another album the “studio talk” that appears at the beginning of “Don’t You Evah” would be placed before the music begins, but here it’s mixed within the drums and bass and seems like a perfect beginning before Daniel breaks into the first verse. Throughout the albums little additions like this enhance the songs in places (especially during the bridges) where most bands would clumsily throw in the kitchen sink just because they could.

The biggest break from past albums is probably “The Ghost of You Lingers.” Here simple piano chords ride out the song while stereophonic Britt Daniels coos from all directions accompanied by a series from-a-can noises. “The Ghost of You Lingers” is the closest that Spoon has gotten to avant garde sound and yet feels perfectly natural and it’s a reminder that the band has been experimenting from album to album. Although it’s a track that mp3 lovers might call filler, in the context of the whole album it evokes tension that’s begging to be released.

And that tension is released with “You Got Yr. Cherry Bomb,” a wonderful pop song we’ve come to expect from Spoon. This series of tension-release occurs several times throughout the album. The middle songs never quite break into the full voiced choruses they easily could, and it isn’t until track seven that “Underdog” delivers us a release with an uninhibited horn section. The platitude “You’ve got no fear of the underdog/ That’s why you will not survive” may not have meaning at face value but when you’re screaming it at the top of your lungs driving ninety down the highway you’ll believe, oh, you’ll believe. “Japanese Cigarette Case” is another fine example of tension/release within the same song, a vein popping chorus manages to break out the tense verses.

Too often Spoon has been called minimalists, and while not wholly inaccurate, it’s also not a terribly consistent description. While the band may at times see what simple bass and drums can do, they’re not afraid of a full sound, and a full sound is exactly what they revel in on Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga. Spoon have proven time and again that minimalism is merely a starting point but what the ending point is I, thankfully, cannot tell.

Foo Fighter's Celebrate the 10th Anniversary of The Colour and The Shape

Just this week the 10th Anniversary Edition of The Colour and the Shape was released. No, they didn't change the spelling to match American-English Dictionaries, but they did add some unreleased tracks. Most of which I downloaded long ago (ahhhh, the days of Audiogalaxy...sigh).

The Colour and the Shape was a windows down in the summer album, it was also the kind of balls to the wall guitar driven pop that most bands aren't making anymore. I'll always prefer the first album but I can't argue with great songs like "Hey, Johnny Park!" or "Enough Space." I should bill Dave Grohl for blowing out the speakers of my Ford Escort (stranger litigation has happened). Below is a live rendition of one of the b-sides, oddly enough entitled "The Colour and the Shape" in the wonderful tradition of naming an album after a song that didn't make the cut (see Ted Leo's Living With the Living/"Living With the Living.")

Keep your eye on Dave Grohl. I didn't know that muthafucka' could transport too!

FBI searches for Ted Stevens' series of tubes.

Well, it finally happened. Apparently Ted Stevens, the Senator from Alaska who became synonymous with pork barrel earmarks because of his "bridge to nowhere", is being investigated by the FBI. I'm a personal fan of Stevens, if only because he's certifiably senile and 100% grade A batshits insane. Just yesterday Ted Stevens' home was invaded by the FBI who took pictures of his residence. Apparently they believe additions he made to his home were actually paid for by VECO, an Alaska based oil-fields services and engineering company. Apparently VECO's founder, Bill Allen, was previously convicted for bribing state officials. At least that's the official story, but I like to think the FBI is actually looking for an illegal caches of a "series of tubes." Here's the original article.



It's not a big truck? Shit, I just failed my Internets 101 final. Oh, and if you're hosting your own rave.

The Simpsons Movie Weekend

In honor of The Simpsons Movie opening this weekend I have exhibit A as to why The Simpson's is still the king of animation. Sure, it's a little older, a little less shocking, and a little less funny, but the first nine seasons have engendered such good faith that The Simpsons is still tops in my book.



What other show has so radically changed pop culture and what is acceptable on television? I like to make fun of Family Guy's lack of originality now and again but I'm glad The Simpsons made it possible for that show to exist. Oh, and judging from The Simpsons Movie box office they've also given South Park a slap down. That's right Cartman, respect their authoritah!

Sunshine

Sunshine (4.5/5)

The keystone to Sunshine is the fact that once you strip away the sci-fi coveralls the film is essentially about a handful of people under very extreme circumstances. The central problem with extended space travel is the fact that after a year shoved into close quarters on a space aged Winnebago everyone is going to hate the guy next to him. I think 2001 had it right where they froze half the crew and made certain the remaining two had zero personality.

Apparently the same psychiatrists who okayed Lisa Nowak also approved the unhinged crew of Icarus II, whose mission is to reignite the dying sun. The ships psychiatrist has an unhealthy obsession with being “enveloped” by the sun on the ship’s observation deck, the ships botanist, played by Michelle Yeoh, has an unhealthy connection to plants, and the ships diametric young males, Capa (Cillian Murphy) and Mace (Chris Evans) get into a tussle without an apparent provocation. In their defense they’ve been living shoulder to shoulder for a few years now, and despite the inherent tension, each crew member acknowledges that everything else, especially their lives, is second to delivering the ship’s payload to the sun’s surface and saving the human race.

As expected from a Danny Boyle film, sci-fi is used as a jumping board for some philosophical musings as well as some overwhelming visuals. The guys behind the computers of Transformer should probably be ashamed of themselves after they see what can be accomplished with a fraction of the budget. Sunshine is absolutely gorgeous and takes full advantage of it’s location within the orbit of Mercury.

Fans of science fiction will be able to tell which parts have been cobbled together from movies past, but while this at times a drawback, it’s still incredible what Boyle can do within the confines of genre filmmaking. Those who are looking for a tense thriller in the vacuum of space will be satisfied and those who want something more cerebral will be able to rack their brains. Whether you’re a fan of Alien or Solaris, Boyle’s latest film should please not simply because it knows it’s working in the shadow of both but because it fully understands what made those films work and connects the dots between both kinds of science fiction.

New Smashing Pumpkins

Here it is in all its underwhelming glory, the new music video by the new reincarnation of The Smashing Pumpkins. The song is called "Tarantula."



Wondering who all those extra people are. Are they the new members of The Pumpkins? Probably not, they're probably there to appeal to as many demographics as possible. Billy Corgan, you marketing whiz kid you.

Oh, and if you want to hear the whole album, then listen here.

The Duke Spirit - Cuts Across the Land (acoustic)

Here's The Duke Spirit doing an acoustic rendition of "Cuts Across the Land" at Sonic Boom Records in Seattle. Apparently the lead singer's voice is just as unique sans studio. The cameraman does seem a little too interested in the tambourine, or is it something else he's zooming in on?




If you'll excuse me I want to run out and by the latest issue of Paste magazine.

Times New Vikings - The Paisley Reich

Times New Vikings - The Paisley Reich (5/5)

The post-modern fear is that nothing is new. Originality is a farce perpetrated on an audience in order to trick them into believing something is important and they should want it when in fact it’s the same old thing people were listening to a decade ago with different packaging. After you listen to enough music this fear becomes more pronounced and you start to look beyond just the songwriting to the song production. It’s less important what chords are being played than how the band recorded those chords.

Times New Viking’s The Paisley Reich is just as interested in how the music sounds as they are about writing catchy songs. Times New Viking’s take a lo-fi aesthetic to the extreme and much of it sounds like a high school band practicing in the garage…from down the street. I can imagine the bassist succumbing to some Spinal Tap like accident and the rest of the band look at each other and figure they can just cover up his absence with lots of treble. At the best moments I was nostalgic for my ’93 Escort’s blown out speakers.

If Times New Vikings merely used lousy recording to cover for lousy music then they would have overstayed their welcome after the first song. Fortunately they write some damn catchy tunes. It may take a listen or two but once you push through the white noise there’s some wonderful pop songs. In another context “Teenagelust!” could be a summer radio hit and songs like “New Times, New Hope” become addictive thanks to some punchy percussion. The entire fifteen tracks go down in under thirty minutes, which is just as well considering that any longer and the experiment might have degenerated pretentiousness. For the sake of everyone involved the album turns out to be a perfect realization of their experiment.

Times New Vikings gives me hope that some originality exists out there, even if it’s just the same old songs recorded with a new idea. Still, I’m curious as to where they go from here. Do they move on to another noise experiment or maybe they become more accessible? Whatever they decide, this tremendous debut has me anxious to find out what happens next.