For those of us who've been frustrated by the Reader's Critics' Choices lately (I still can't get Liz Armstrong's Britney Spears recommendation out of my head and she follows it up with JC Chasez) here's some to-do's this weekend that don't require playing Hipster Bingo at the Empty Bottle or having to arm yourself within a two-mile radius of Wrigley Field. Take a chance and see how the other third lives:
Friday
- Where were you when the cops raided HotHouse last year? Full Disclosure: I was behind the bar trying to recapture my lost income in Maker's Mark. Anyhoo, the drinks'll be flowing like floodwater through Deep Tunnel tonight (Hello, Goose Island "312" Urban Wheat Ale.) Go see Marvin Tate's D-Settlement ring in seventeen years of HotHouse sticking it to the man's homogeny. They promise this'll be the last show EVER!
- Sign of the Apocalypse #1: Jazz singers are doing residencies at Jazz Showcase. Go down this weekend and see one of the best going, Karrin Allyson.
Sabado Gigante
- On-line and broadsheet rag The 2nd Hand (I say that with affection) celebrates the release of it's new collected anthology All Hands On with a live reading at The Stray Show. Go out and support good Chicago writing.
- Give a hipster two turntables and he thinks he's DJ Logic. Go check out Tag Team DJ's at the Hideout, hope they match the BPMs, get drunk and request lots of 80's hair metal.
- One-hit wonder Bree Sharp hits Gunther Murphys. $8.00 will get you a bunch of songs you never heard and one song ("David Duchovny") you couldn't get out of your head four years ago.
- Looking for a nice appletini in Bridgeport? Hah! We take our drinking seriously at Puffer's; small batch bourbons and a beer menu that'll make any Irish bar in Lincoln Park green with envy. Go down there, catch Nomad Planets, and tip Al really well. He don't wear those leather pants for comfort.
SUNDAYSUNDAYSUNDAY
- It's Mother's Day and you stuck Mom with the brunch tab again. Do her a solid and take her to see Jim Jarmusch's "Dead Man" at the Music Box. She'll wish you just phoned.
- After you freaked out Mom with "Dead Man", head on over to Beat Kitchen for "Mish Mash Variety Night".
Friday, May 07, 2004
"Lord Of The Flies", Anyone?
I'm as enraged as anyone by the photographic evidence of American GIs abusing and torturing Iraqi POWs, and the calculated "apologies" coming from the Bush Administration. Neil Steinberg in the Sun-Times today tackles the subject head-on.
Beginning with a blunt refuting of the President's assertion that the photographs don't reflect the "true nature and heart of America," the normally conservative Steinberg takes the administration to task with brutal efficiency for the actions of the army guards at Abu Ghraib prison.
The simple reasoning of Steinberg's column- that individuals freed from the constraints of their civilized society regress to barbaric behavior- works as a well-thought counter to the bluster of Rush Limbaugh, who chalked up the abuse to a "boys will be boys" mentality. Here's some transcript from Limbaugh's Wednesday show (via The O'Franken Factor.) Judging from the rambling defense, I'd say that Rush found a new maid/dealer:
This is no different than what happens at the Skull and Bones initiation and we're going to ruin people's lives over it, and we're going to hamper our military effort, and then we're going to really hammer 'em because they had a good time.
He compared the abuse of prisoners-of-war to a hazing initiation. I've been through my share of military hazing initiations. The worst thing that ever happened to me during one was receiving the four-hundred dollar bar tab after I was officially recognized as a Turtle. I see where he was going here; every hazing initiation I ever took part in or knew of had an element of homoeroticism and defaming. Who knew that Skull-and-Bones initiates were bound together naked, nut-to-butt, and forced to masturbate while being led around by a dog leash? This also affirms my belief that the University campus Greek system is a fertile breeding ground for the Republicans of tomorrow. I'm guessing Rush Limbaugh was a cross between Greg Marmalade and Flounder. And also a power bottom.
You know, these people are being fired at everyday - I'm talking about the people having a good time.
I've been in a war zone and "having a good time" was defined as "going out, getting drunk, and getting laid."
You ever hear of emotional release?
Yes. I'm told Oxycontin hampers that.
You ever hear of need to blow some steam off?
That's why I exercise.
These people are the enemy!
I thought we were supposed helping them build a democracy that would be the standard-bearer of the Middle East. Silly, naive me!!
So, if I read that right, a man who recieved medical deferments from Vietnam said we should view the abuse of prisoners at Abu Ghraib as nothing more than a hazing gone wrong. I wonder if Rush was a fan of "Oz" and if he got excited during the shower scenes.
Then there was a quote from the mother of Army Specialist Lynndie England, whose face was plastered on the front page of the Washington Post this week holding a dog leash fastened around the neck of an naked Iraqi prisoner.
"And what the (Iraqis) do to our men and women are just? The rules of the Geneva Convention, does that apply to everybody or just us?"
Well, seeing as we are the chief warmongers there, seeing as our soldiers are the ones photograhed torturing Iraqi POWs captured during a war, seeing as even our President said that we should be above that type of behavior (although he may have been tied to a young strapping Eli during a Skull-and-Bones ceremony in the late sixties and forced to simulate anal sex) I'd say that this is a time that the Geneva Convention absolutely applies to just us.
But maybe I'm just a liberal.
Beginning with a blunt refuting of the President's assertion that the photographs don't reflect the "true nature and heart of America," the normally conservative Steinberg takes the administration to task with brutal efficiency for the actions of the army guards at Abu Ghraib prison.
The simple reasoning of Steinberg's column- that individuals freed from the constraints of their civilized society regress to barbaric behavior- works as a well-thought counter to the bluster of Rush Limbaugh, who chalked up the abuse to a "boys will be boys" mentality. Here's some transcript from Limbaugh's Wednesday show (via The O'Franken Factor.) Judging from the rambling defense, I'd say that Rush found a new maid/dealer:
This is no different than what happens at the Skull and Bones initiation and we're going to ruin people's lives over it, and we're going to hamper our military effort, and then we're going to really hammer 'em because they had a good time.
He compared the abuse of prisoners-of-war to a hazing initiation. I've been through my share of military hazing initiations. The worst thing that ever happened to me during one was receiving the four-hundred dollar bar tab after I was officially recognized as a Turtle. I see where he was going here; every hazing initiation I ever took part in or knew of had an element of homoeroticism and defaming. Who knew that Skull-and-Bones initiates were bound together naked, nut-to-butt, and forced to masturbate while being led around by a dog leash? This also affirms my belief that the University campus Greek system is a fertile breeding ground for the Republicans of tomorrow. I'm guessing Rush Limbaugh was a cross between Greg Marmalade and Flounder. And also a power bottom.
You know, these people are being fired at everyday - I'm talking about the people having a good time.
I've been in a war zone and "having a good time" was defined as "going out, getting drunk, and getting laid."
You ever hear of emotional release?
Yes. I'm told Oxycontin hampers that.
You ever hear of need to blow some steam off?
That's why I exercise.
These people are the enemy!
I thought we were supposed helping them build a democracy that would be the standard-bearer of the Middle East. Silly, naive me!!
So, if I read that right, a man who recieved medical deferments from Vietnam said we should view the abuse of prisoners at Abu Ghraib as nothing more than a hazing gone wrong. I wonder if Rush was a fan of "Oz" and if he got excited during the shower scenes.
Then there was a quote from the mother of Army Specialist Lynndie England, whose face was plastered on the front page of the Washington Post this week holding a dog leash fastened around the neck of an naked Iraqi prisoner.
"And what the (Iraqis) do to our men and women are just? The rules of the Geneva Convention, does that apply to everybody or just us?"
Well, seeing as we are the chief warmongers there, seeing as our soldiers are the ones photograhed torturing Iraqi POWs captured during a war, seeing as even our President said that we should be above that type of behavior (although he may have been tied to a young strapping Eli during a Skull-and-Bones ceremony in the late sixties and forced to simulate anal sex) I'd say that this is a time that the Geneva Convention absolutely applies to just us.
But maybe I'm just a liberal.
Oy!
I seriously need a firmer mattress. Woke up this morning and my lower back was completely stiff. A few minutes of stretching had me feeling better.
I know it's only in the mid-fifties today, but I broke out Shuggie Otis' "Inspiration Information" to mark the coming of spring. Otis was a prodigy. ThI could go into detail, but you can get more information about Shuggie here or here.
"Inspiration Information" was another impulse purchase. I loved it so much that I was buying copies of the cd as birthday presents all summer. I would take the cd with me on vacation. it's that good. I don't listen to it as much these days. The exceptions are when I'm finding myself cruising along on a lazy spring day. It's a perfect soundtrack for such days.
I know it's only in the mid-fifties today, but I broke out Shuggie Otis' "Inspiration Information" to mark the coming of spring. Otis was a prodigy. ThI could go into detail, but you can get more information about Shuggie here or here.
"Inspiration Information" was another impulse purchase. I loved it so much that I was buying copies of the cd as birthday presents all summer. I would take the cd with me on vacation. it's that good. I don't listen to it as much these days. The exceptions are when I'm finding myself cruising along on a lazy spring day. It's a perfect soundtrack for such days.
Thursday, May 06, 2004
So No One Told Me Life Was Gonna Feel This Way (clapclapclapclap)
And if you happen to miss the series finale of Friends don't fret. In another effort by NBC to milk their cash cow dry the DVD of the final episode will be availible in five days. Pardon me while I turn on the sarcasm mode for a moment.
Whoo-fucking-hoo.
Ah, that's better. Seriously, Friends leaving the air so soon after the loss of Sex In the City could put the cultural barometer of gentrified neighborhoods across the nation in a free spin. Could a return to carb-heavy diets be far behind?
Whoo-fucking-hoo.
Ah, that's better. Seriously, Friends leaving the air so soon after the loss of Sex In the City could put the cultural barometer of gentrified neighborhoods across the nation in a free spin. Could a return to carb-heavy diets be far behind?
Tuesday, May 04, 2004
Today's Pig is Tomorrow's Bacon
The Shrub was in Chicago today at the Hilton and Towers which meant that Balbo was literally crawling with police and secret service. This made going about one's daily routine not so as everyone- students, tourists, professionals, the homeless- all made with the gapers block.
My Tuesdays at work are generally four to five hours of meetings followed by two hours of paperwork. Since the Police had all the parking spaces on Balbo occupied and were towing anything that didn't look like an unmarked car my meetings were held on my cell phone instead. Days like these are why I have a rollover plan. I finished my paperwork a bit early so I could crane for a glimpse of the man who, if the elections were held today, I feel would actually win the popular vote this time.
And that's the scary thing about George W. Bush. He's spent the past four years completely disproving Ralph Nader's assertion that there was no discernible difference between Bush and Al Gore. Nevertheless, even in the face of all the shit that's gone down in Iraq, knowing this administration's position versus actual record on the economy, environment, energy plan, national security, and countless other items I could go on about, he'd still win the election. But that's why Presidential elections are distance runs and not sprints, Al Gore's eleventh hour 2000 comeback notwithstanding.
I have to admit that the way the Bush camp has taken John Kerry's Vietnam war record and distorted it to make all the silver stars and purple hearts a negative campaign issue is breathtaking. No one's talking about Bush's skipping military duty anymore. It's as though it's better to be a chickenhawk than a decorated veteran. I'm starting to wonder if those duffel bags full of uniforms I threw over the gangway of the USS Anzio the day I was discharged will come back to haunt me should I ever decide to run for office. Consider this my confessional. Whle I'm here I should also note that I inhaled. Deeply. I also had sexual relations with that woman. And that woman.
That's why, when I get bummed out about the very real possibility of four more years of this nation being led by a dimwit, I tune out for just a moment and listen to truly mindless drivel like the fucking Darkness. They're just living in the now, which is how all flavors-of-the-month should. The Darkness is what rock would be like if Spinal Tap was in on the joke.
The Darkness is the musical equivalent of Geroge W. Bush: there's no middle ground. You either love it or hate it. The difference is that the Shrub is making decisions that will have ramifications on our grandchildren. It's what happens when someone with more luck than skill starts believing he's more talented than he is. Which explains the whole life of George W. Bush.
The Darkness is a welcome relief for popular music, like pissing in the alley after a night of pounding back long island iced teas. They sound loud and big and OHMYGOD they fucking rock!! Their lyrics are simpleton and sexist. And the lead singer spends most of the recording singing with his testicles in his throat. But it never takes itself seriously. They're just looking for the next piece of ass, the next gig, the next fix.
Having lived through the depression and self-important irony that was grunge it's great to see a band get it and not take themselves so seriously. Walking to the Orange Line bopping up-and-down to "Get Your Hands Off My Woman" I almost forget that I'll be 35 in a month and could afford to lose twenty pounds. Like the genital warts the lead singer cries about in his falsetto, the Darkness must be growing on me.
My Tuesdays at work are generally four to five hours of meetings followed by two hours of paperwork. Since the Police had all the parking spaces on Balbo occupied and were towing anything that didn't look like an unmarked car my meetings were held on my cell phone instead. Days like these are why I have a rollover plan. I finished my paperwork a bit early so I could crane for a glimpse of the man who, if the elections were held today, I feel would actually win the popular vote this time.
And that's the scary thing about George W. Bush. He's spent the past four years completely disproving Ralph Nader's assertion that there was no discernible difference between Bush and Al Gore. Nevertheless, even in the face of all the shit that's gone down in Iraq, knowing this administration's position versus actual record on the economy, environment, energy plan, national security, and countless other items I could go on about, he'd still win the election. But that's why Presidential elections are distance runs and not sprints, Al Gore's eleventh hour 2000 comeback notwithstanding.
I have to admit that the way the Bush camp has taken John Kerry's Vietnam war record and distorted it to make all the silver stars and purple hearts a negative campaign issue is breathtaking. No one's talking about Bush's skipping military duty anymore. It's as though it's better to be a chickenhawk than a decorated veteran. I'm starting to wonder if those duffel bags full of uniforms I threw over the gangway of the USS Anzio the day I was discharged will come back to haunt me should I ever decide to run for office. Consider this my confessional. Whle I'm here I should also note that I inhaled. Deeply. I also had sexual relations with that woman. And that woman.
That's why, when I get bummed out about the very real possibility of four more years of this nation being led by a dimwit, I tune out for just a moment and listen to truly mindless drivel like the fucking Darkness. They're just living in the now, which is how all flavors-of-the-month should. The Darkness is what rock would be like if Spinal Tap was in on the joke.
The Darkness is the musical equivalent of Geroge W. Bush: there's no middle ground. You either love it or hate it. The difference is that the Shrub is making decisions that will have ramifications on our grandchildren. It's what happens when someone with more luck than skill starts believing he's more talented than he is. Which explains the whole life of George W. Bush.
The Darkness is a welcome relief for popular music, like pissing in the alley after a night of pounding back long island iced teas. They sound loud and big and OHMYGOD they fucking rock!! Their lyrics are simpleton and sexist. And the lead singer spends most of the recording singing with his testicles in his throat. But it never takes itself seriously. They're just looking for the next piece of ass, the next gig, the next fix.
Having lived through the depression and self-important irony that was grunge it's great to see a band get it and not take themselves so seriously. Walking to the Orange Line bopping up-and-down to "Get Your Hands Off My Woman" I almost forget that I'll be 35 in a month and could afford to lose twenty pounds. Like the genital warts the lead singer cries about in his falsetto, the Darkness must be growing on me.
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