So as previously mentioned I went to the Killas show on Wednesday with my friends Jym and Andrea. It was at the Marine club, an unlikely venue for such a gig in my opinion as it is really small, and old-bar-like. Not to mention really fricken hot!. We got there just as they set up and the bartender/manager of the establishment had really no clue as to what was going on. As such we did not get out dollar discount for wearing a piece of camo. (Later people did, once the promoter finished arguing with the guy.)
The first band to hit the stage was a band from Campbell River called P.U.C.K. (which stands for Previously Unknown Canadian Kids. With the exception of the beat-maker (or the player of the Roland MC505) this was perhaps the whitest hiphop band in the world. They were Canadian themed (Puck, get it!) and most of their songs referenced such wonderful Canadiana as Beer and Weed. (The refernces to the tri-city area were particualrly painful.) This band were awful. The only thing they had going for them were the occasional Slayer licks from the guitarist (as well as the occasional smirks he gave his fellow band members.) The beats were dull and the choruses were among the worst performances I have ever heard, usually consisting of manipulating a old kid's rhyme into something about weed, how the police suck, or being drunk. (One example "If you take my scotch/I'll kick your crotch/Bee Eye Eee Eye Atch.") They also used Peter Cetera's Glory of Love in one chorus changing all of the words to glorify smoking weed ("Glory of Bud") which I imagine is only funny while high. This was such a painful thing to watch that I was in tears from laughing at them so hard. Whenever I have to fill out a survey which asks "What is your most embarassing moment?" I will say watching this band because I was so embarassed for them.
The second band Fans of Nothing took a long time to set up. When they got to the stage they proved to be almost as painful as the first band. But thankfully they seemed t break up before the end of their set. (Their first and Last show.) The drummer walked off stage with a mic and started saying how they never practiced and and that this was his last show. The singer continued to mumble improvised words at random. Eventually the drummer went back behind the kit and played for a bit more until the guitarist finally gave up and said goodbye, walking off the stage, followed by the drummer. This left the singer standing alone with some pre-recorded consolidated-like beats playing from his CD player. He chanted some kind of comment for awhile until he finally left the stage as well.
The Killas came on the Stage: Stace, Destro, Billy (Cobra Commander's son, since Cobra Commander and the band had parted ways), and two vipers. All were fully strapped with their laser guns which apparantly we were supposed to have brought as well; I was unaware. They played through a set of new and old material and rocked the house pretty well. I was laughing and head-nodding pretty much the whole time. The brought out some Cobra Bux for the crowd, and played some old faves like "Cobra Wants You" and "Eau De Cobra" but didn't play "Arashikage Ninja" much to my dismay. Stace' displayed the strength of her singing voice and a moderate rapping ability, while Destro kept the energy level up with some good ryhme skills. Billy was their DJ, setting up all the beats on the laptop they had brought. (Why couldn't they just have put the Cobra Commander hood on him and no one would have been the wiser?") The two vipers just danced and waved their guns around, like really white S1Ws. (The male viper was the most awkward dancer in the whole frickin world; he danced like a grade 7 boy.) The show was fun, if only the opening bands were a little better and the Marine Club wasn't so hot!
Showing posts with label Review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Review. Show all posts
Saturday, July 24, 2004
Wednesday, May 12, 2004
A Meta-Review of "Supersize Me"
By Meta-Review, I mean one which pretty much looks through other reviews for what glimmers of truth they may have. This is all because I am too lazy to write a full review of my own. I liked it, but wasn't as sickened as some of the other people I know who have seen it.
"This attention-grabbing stunt is getting the film lots of free press, but it proves nothing that any normal doctor doesn?t already know about the links between bad food and bad health. Forget that this stunt is completely irresponsible; Spurlock is a healthy guy, and he succeeds only in trivializing people with real eating disorders. "
Yes, junk food is bad for you. This is nothing new. If I went on a all-cheese diet for a whole month, I bet my symptoms would be pretty bad too. (Not to mention that this was hardly a rigorous study, what with the sample-size of one.) This particular link also shows one of the strange bits that I found the movie. There was a scene in which an overweight teen is interviewed and talks about how there is so much pressure to be skinny. It seems to downplay the problem of body-image, and seems to suggest that perhaps the shame tactic is permissable, thereby trivializing the problems that overweight kids might have.
"Like several other areas of genuine concern, a maddeningly underdeveloped sequence depicting the deplorable state of our nation's school lunch programs is quickly wiped off the screen to make room for more long segments in which Spurlock prances around in his red-white-and-blue bikini briefs while tugging on his new love handles and whining about his "McStomach-ache."
The movie is funny and engaging. But the real important issues that it tackles are given far less time and concern as the apparent health degeneration of Spurlock, not to mention the scene in which he finds a hair in his sundae (OMG A HAIR!!!! APPALLING! That never happens at restaurants.)
I enjoyed the movie, but found certain aspects of it obvious, and others a little troubling. It's obviously severely biassed, and more than a little narcisistic, but brings up some imprtant issues. It hasn't encouraged me to stop eating fast-food (actually I haven't eaten McD's for some time now) but has persuaded me to get more excercise. (The fact that he wasn't excersizing was given far too little examination.)
In the end he offers very little in the way of solutions, sugggesting that McD's and other restaurants bear a lot of the brunt of responsibility which is really only part of the problem. The conclusion seemed too much diatribe, too little of anything constructive. People should see the movie, and it is a good step in making the world a healthier place, but watch it with a grain of salt.
"This attention-grabbing stunt is getting the film lots of free press, but it proves nothing that any normal doctor doesn?t already know about the links between bad food and bad health. Forget that this stunt is completely irresponsible; Spurlock is a healthy guy, and he succeeds only in trivializing people with real eating disorders. "
Yes, junk food is bad for you. This is nothing new. If I went on a all-cheese diet for a whole month, I bet my symptoms would be pretty bad too. (Not to mention that this was hardly a rigorous study, what with the sample-size of one.) This particular link also shows one of the strange bits that I found the movie. There was a scene in which an overweight teen is interviewed and talks about how there is so much pressure to be skinny. It seems to downplay the problem of body-image, and seems to suggest that perhaps the shame tactic is permissable, thereby trivializing the problems that overweight kids might have.
"Like several other areas of genuine concern, a maddeningly underdeveloped sequence depicting the deplorable state of our nation's school lunch programs is quickly wiped off the screen to make room for more long segments in which Spurlock prances around in his red-white-and-blue bikini briefs while tugging on his new love handles and whining about his "McStomach-ache."
The movie is funny and engaging. But the real important issues that it tackles are given far less time and concern as the apparent health degeneration of Spurlock, not to mention the scene in which he finds a hair in his sundae (OMG A HAIR!!!! APPALLING! That never happens at restaurants.)
I enjoyed the movie, but found certain aspects of it obvious, and others a little troubling. It's obviously severely biassed, and more than a little narcisistic, but brings up some imprtant issues. It hasn't encouraged me to stop eating fast-food (actually I haven't eaten McD's for some time now) but has persuaded me to get more excercise. (The fact that he wasn't excersizing was given far too little examination.)
In the end he offers very little in the way of solutions, sugggesting that McD's and other restaurants bear a lot of the brunt of responsibility which is really only part of the problem. The conclusion seemed too much diatribe, too little of anything constructive. People should see the movie, and it is a good step in making the world a healthier place, but watch it with a grain of salt.
Tuesday, October 14, 2003
My Kill Bill Review
I'm gonna keep this sucker fairly brief as it is getting kind of late and I have to make sure Corinne gets some sleep (I get to sleep in).
I must say that this is one of those situations where I had the film hyped up so greatly that it could have ruined it for me. Both Garath and Corinne, who had seen the movie a few days before, had tried to prevent their excitement from slipping out, but failed miserably. (Garath actually let slip that it was one of his top 10 movies!) Going into this movie I had to ignore the hype that had built up. Did it affect my viewing of the movie in a negative way?
Yes. The movie actually seemed pretty slow and kind of cheesy at the time of viewing. The pacing seemed off, and the characterization didn't jump out at me. The action scenes and gore were entertaining as was a lot of the dialogue and odd QT-like scenarios. But at the time of viewing I was feeling a little underwhelmed. The movie really seemed to drag.
It was in retrospect that the movie slowly became one of my favorites. I kept thinking about little bits and pieces. Dialogue, kick-ass action, how hot Lucy Liu is. The movie didn't seem anywhere as deep as Quentin's other movies, but I think that there might be something going on that will handle that in the third movie. It was the little things that improved it in retrospect: the fact that the cereal box was labeled Kaboom, the music, certain scenes that jump to consciousness. The movie lingers as a good movie should, and brings the desire to go see it again.
All in all, pretty good, but no Reservoir Dogs or Pulp Fiction.
86%
I must say that this is one of those situations where I had the film hyped up so greatly that it could have ruined it for me. Both Garath and Corinne, who had seen the movie a few days before, had tried to prevent their excitement from slipping out, but failed miserably. (Garath actually let slip that it was one of his top 10 movies!) Going into this movie I had to ignore the hype that had built up. Did it affect my viewing of the movie in a negative way?
Yes. The movie actually seemed pretty slow and kind of cheesy at the time of viewing. The pacing seemed off, and the characterization didn't jump out at me. The action scenes and gore were entertaining as was a lot of the dialogue and odd QT-like scenarios. But at the time of viewing I was feeling a little underwhelmed. The movie really seemed to drag.
It was in retrospect that the movie slowly became one of my favorites. I kept thinking about little bits and pieces. Dialogue, kick-ass action, how hot Lucy Liu is. The movie didn't seem anywhere as deep as Quentin's other movies, but I think that there might be something going on that will handle that in the third movie. It was the little things that improved it in retrospect: the fact that the cereal box was labeled Kaboom, the music, certain scenes that jump to consciousness. The movie lingers as a good movie should, and brings the desire to go see it again.
All in all, pretty good, but no Reservoir Dogs or Pulp Fiction.
86%
Sunday, September 28, 2003
GOZU (first VIFF review, Dir. Takashi Miike, Scr. Sakichi Sato)
GOZU (or Cow Head)
"A friend in need is a friend indeed."
Despite being ditched by the "group" of bloggers that planned to catch this matinee on Saturday, I bussed it down to Granville 7 and lined up behind 70 people to get in and find out what makes this Yakuza ghost story a nominee for the most popular foreign film in the festival (read: it was a BIG hit at Toronto). From the director and screenwriter of Ichi the Killer, comes a Japanese version of U-turn, only far more bizarre and twisted than the depths of Oliver Stone's imagination.
I was relieved that this one wasn't a gorefest, I'm far more interested in Takashi's sharp characters and senseless plots that paint a very surreal and depraived portrait of yakuza life. This one involves a yakuza henchman, Ozaki (Sho Aikawa), who becomes mentally unstable with paranoia, to the point of accusing everyone and everything of being part of an assassination attempt on him or his superiors. As a result, the boss selects Minami (Hideki Stone) to dispose of him at a junkyard in Nagoya. However, things go horribly wrong when Minami believes that Ozaki has been accidently killed in a mishap enroute to the city, but finds the body missing after visiting a rather bizarre coffee house. Hence begins the epic search...
"It was much hotter yesterday, you're crazy! It was T-shirt weather, ask anybody."
Takashi invites you to immerse your senses in a surreal journey through a side of Nagoya that Jon never mentioned to me on his trip there in 1998. He has a definite love for the juxtaposition of beauty and disgust, as he lulls you with the former and sneaks up on you with the latter. He also tantalizes the senses with all forms of liquid (a British interviewer commented on Takashi's films making him extremely thirsty), despite lacking the gallons of blood that Ichi bombarded audiences with. Needless to say I have no further interest in drinking milk and may never look at another ladle the same way again...but I do want to find a shirt like the woman's brother's at the hotel.
Anyhow I recommend it, it was fun to view it alone and completely immerse myself in the mindset of Takashi Miike, but don't get too comfortable. I don't think Coquitlam is too far off from Nagoya though, yet again I see two 12 year old kids in the pool playing a game where one of them pretends to be a seal while the other one clubs him with a tennis ball, after which the seal screams "PARAMEDIC!" then they switch roles and repeat...this lasts three hours.
-Duke
***1/2
"A friend in need is a friend indeed."
Despite being ditched by the "group" of bloggers that planned to catch this matinee on Saturday, I bussed it down to Granville 7 and lined up behind 70 people to get in and find out what makes this Yakuza ghost story a nominee for the most popular foreign film in the festival (read: it was a BIG hit at Toronto). From the director and screenwriter of Ichi the Killer, comes a Japanese version of U-turn, only far more bizarre and twisted than the depths of Oliver Stone's imagination.
I was relieved that this one wasn't a gorefest, I'm far more interested in Takashi's sharp characters and senseless plots that paint a very surreal and depraived portrait of yakuza life. This one involves a yakuza henchman, Ozaki (Sho Aikawa), who becomes mentally unstable with paranoia, to the point of accusing everyone and everything of being part of an assassination attempt on him or his superiors. As a result, the boss selects Minami (Hideki Stone) to dispose of him at a junkyard in Nagoya. However, things go horribly wrong when Minami believes that Ozaki has been accidently killed in a mishap enroute to the city, but finds the body missing after visiting a rather bizarre coffee house. Hence begins the epic search...
"It was much hotter yesterday, you're crazy! It was T-shirt weather, ask anybody."
Takashi invites you to immerse your senses in a surreal journey through a side of Nagoya that Jon never mentioned to me on his trip there in 1998. He has a definite love for the juxtaposition of beauty and disgust, as he lulls you with the former and sneaks up on you with the latter. He also tantalizes the senses with all forms of liquid (a British interviewer commented on Takashi's films making him extremely thirsty), despite lacking the gallons of blood that Ichi bombarded audiences with. Needless to say I have no further interest in drinking milk and may never look at another ladle the same way again...but I do want to find a shirt like the woman's brother's at the hotel.
Anyhow I recommend it, it was fun to view it alone and completely immerse myself in the mindset of Takashi Miike, but don't get too comfortable. I don't think Coquitlam is too far off from Nagoya though, yet again I see two 12 year old kids in the pool playing a game where one of them pretends to be a seal while the other one clubs him with a tennis ball, after which the seal screams "PARAMEDIC!" then they switch roles and repeat...this lasts three hours.
-Duke
***1/2
Tuesday, September 16, 2003
I Still Don't Like Rap
Atmosphere, Micranots, Brother Ali, and OddJobs
Commodore Ballroom
Sunday September 14, 2003
I know, you're all looking at the dancing Gir and then flashing to make sure the name still says "Corinne" and then doing a triple take back up to Gir again, thinking to yourself "Isn't Atmosphere...? and the rap...? and the hip-hop...? and isn't Corinne...? with the rap...?" Fear not, people, I am not a convert.
So how did the little tiny weirdo white girl end up going to probably one of the more celebrated "underground" (not mainstream or not MTV) hip-hop act's show? It's called an abuse of the guest list.
Grae called me while I was visiting my parents' this weekend (happy birthdays all around for everyone but Steve and I) and asked me if I wanted to go to the show. I said "sure" because all free entertainment is entertainment I can afford, and hanging out with Grae this weekend appealed to me after spending lengthy amounts of time playing Mario Golf with my brothers and fending of my crazy grandmother (who repeated the following phrase no less that five times in succession during one conversation with nothing in between: "We sure had good times, didn't we?"--really crazy).
My parents dropped me off at home with a minute to spare, and Grae and I headed downtown to get into line. While I was concerned that after attending a family dinner with no time to change I may have looked like a wacky-cracker, it turned out there were a lot of indie-rockers in attendance (as well as others... but I wasn't the whitest fixture).
Now onto the review from the point of view of someone who doesn't like hip-hop or rap or emo-hop or anything in that genre, despite this latest attempt.
2(DJ)+3(MC) = OddJobs
With three MCs, they were a lively bunch, and definitely showed that they were there to enjoy themselves and not just there to make a few dollars and see the sites. They looked like they genuinely loved what they were doing. Perhaps as this was the third show (Calgary and Nelson being their lead ins), the audience was feeding them with a little (little by Commodore calculations) crowd in front of the stage of about 100-150 people (the procession to the stage was exact pacing on the part of the audience). They reminded me of when I used to collect trading cards (for my dad. Sure he would buy them "for us" and sort them out "for us" and keep them in a binder and box for doubles "for us" and trade them at card shows to finish off the collection "for us". But really... who has the cards now, Dad?) and one of the more popular sets were of the "Yo! MTV Raps" series (I and II). There was the same image of a "band" of sorts of your DJs and your MCs and there was somehow a sense of unity within the band that other "groups" were getting by with only one DJ and one MC. The Group versus The Duo. As you can see, I haven't touched on their lyrics or their music. Get used to it. All members of the band were overdressed (I admired the one guy for keeping his touque or knitted cap on the entire cookin' time) and were rapidly turning a hip-hop display into a strip show. To my dismay or delight (not sure) they remained fully clothed after removing some two or more layers. I guess Calgary and Nelson have colder venues? Nelson. Hahahaha.
Negative Hip Hop: Brother Ali
Picture this guy from his name. What does this image conjure up. Add in the fact that he's a hip-hop artist from Minnesota. Now what do you have? If you said anything other than a tubby white bald guy, you're probably looking at the inverse negative. Is this review superficial enough yet? Wait until I get pretentious with the next group. Admittedly, if I had to make a pick for the category "Opening Act That Most Held My Interest", it would have been this anomaly of a rounder white guy (who looked older than he is). Here I go into a comment about the music of the show: it was his song "Forest Whitiker" that kept me intently tuned into what he was saying. Apologies for whatever pop-ups you suffer from that link, but for the love of the interweb get a blocker. Anyway, the "you ain't gotta love me" message was incredibly powerful coming from this strange looking guy. Evidence that self acceptance and self-appreciation are their own forms of extreme beauty, I was impressed. And so I liked him. Much like a battle hip-hop guy (white kids like me see: "8 Mile"), he was aggressive and full of stage presence. Just him and a DJ.
Divisions: Micranots
Yeah, perhaps I'm just a wacky racist or just bigoted and will never understand where the African-American communities values and attitudes fit in, but this is my take on the only "real" black hip-hop artist (Grae will have his arguments against me, to be sure): My main and number one problem (and probably my only... can't think of others, nor should I have to find other faults if they aren't there) coming from my integrated white family that promoted that all people are people and the value of their lives and choices... blah blah blah blah... is this notion of segregation that the Micranots front man took to the audience. It began by a call out of the sexes. "Ladies of the house" and "My brothers of the house" were his division lines. Perhaps because of Atmosphere (explained later), I felt that the audience had a high number of females present for a hip-hop show (most of the girls in that scene tend to go for the dance aspect of the music, while their male counter parts are drawn towards the actual hip-hop of it all); the ration was about 4:1 in favour of the guys. Anyway, I also had problems with the wording (Grae assures me that this is all normal and I am being weird) of "ladies" versus "my brothers". A division of us and them. Not dehumanizing or emphasizing differences, but certainly drawing attention that the girls in the audience are almost guests into the brotherhood (Grae is probably saying that I am reading too much into this... which I may very well be, but it made me feel like I was something other than on his side). This probably would have slid off my back had this line-drawing of us and them ceased.
But, no, he rambles off some anti-police sentiments and asks the newly-thinking youth "how much they hate the police" and proceeds to break into a wonderfully predictable audience-MC dialogue of "Fuck the police" to which the reply is every time "Fuck the police" (as I type this I picture my buddy Sting shrugging in an act of non-defiance and almost curiousity to see what the raping from 1000 19-25 year olds would be like). Yeah, fine: tradition. Yeah, fine: it's his roots. Yeah, fine: where he's from the police are bastards. Yeah, fine: his DJ was stopped by Canada Customs and not let in based on a criminal charge that may very well have been over-emphasized from either the US police of Canada Customs. But here, we are, a bunch of cracker kids, that will never (or almost never) have any serious run-in with police officers. Moreover, the odds of minorities being fucked by the police is incredibly blown out of proportion in such rags as The Province in Vancouver (anything to vilify anyone to sell papers to the thought-free masses). And further, we have some damn lenient policing in Vancouver over half-laws like marijuana. While, I am sure that our buddy from the Micranots would spend 5 to 10 years behind bars for the possession of the same amount of marijuana one would roll openly in front of a police officer here, it just doesn't happen here. He took a position of authority (in the fan-performer relation) and vilified people who chose the profession of policing. These anti-police sentiments can be appropriate when used appropriately. For instance in cases where individual police officers who have abused their authority are named. I may have let this segregation slide if it had not been for the other comments OR if he specified a specific Vancouver incident (easy homework, really) where police were in abuse of their powers and let the youth understand and communicate the frustration rather than a blanket "anyone in a position of authority should be screwed over". Okay, okay, I'll ease up about that one now. And then the third dividing line he made involved a very specific "us and them". Grae says it was a division between commercial rap and underground hip hop; I had the feeling he was talking about hip hop versus pop/rock/etc.--a division, either way. He went into inter-song banter about paying for tickets to a show ("We don't put on shows. We throw parties!") and having to sit through them fail to reproduce their studio efforts. Because y'know only underground hip hop, the art of talking in rhythm into a microphone is the only truly reproducible music in a live setting. And further, it's the only thing worth seeing live because at other shows there is no audience energy. Aren't they so great compared to everything else? That was my beef with this guy. I lost interest really fast.
"Making music for manic-depressive girls": Atmosphere
What a rock star. I am not kidding. With self-depricating lyrics, a sort of bigger-than-life, do-as-I-ask stage presence and flailing theatrics, this guy was all rock star.
As far as a show (but don't they throw parties? or was that just the Micranots... so confused) goes, it was [insert positive term here]. The audience was not only into it, they were duped into it. It was priceless. Mid-session, Mr. Dibbs (that DJ of his there), starts spinning and letting loose Rage Against the Machine's "Fuck You I Won't Do What You Tell Me". The liveliest the audience got all night (in your face, Micranots! Kidding. Sort of.). Anyway, after the stage diving and excitement from Rage settled, Slugs gets on the microphone and goes heart-to-heart with the audience, setting it up with the intent to tell them something personal. And then proceeds to point out the irony of the audience being told to (and complying with) yell along "Fuck You, I Won't Do What You Tell Me". A fault in his logic was that no one was told to yell along. Never. They just did, in a kind of youthful-uniformity that comes from attending highschool. There is a twist to the logic that wasn't really explored. Some kids may have picked up on it when they got back to Mom and/or Dad's place. Some kids will be bitter for the next week about the irony that Slugs said was being fed to them from the media because they themselves were duped into the web-of-irony. To which they are, again, eating what they are being fed. Oh, lord, have mercy on the Y generation! They know not the powers of AOL!
Did I enjoy myself? Probably on some analytical level. Was it a good enough show that the anti-hopper would recommend? Yes, just be sure to go in with a critical mind to what "the media" tell you, whether underground or otherwise.
Commodore Ballroom
Sunday September 14, 2003
I know, you're all looking at the dancing Gir and then flashing to make sure the name still says "Corinne" and then doing a triple take back up to Gir again, thinking to yourself "Isn't Atmosphere...? and the rap...? and the hip-hop...? and isn't Corinne...? with the rap...?" Fear not, people, I am not a convert.
So how did the little tiny weirdo white girl end up going to probably one of the more celebrated "underground" (not mainstream or not MTV) hip-hop act's show? It's called an abuse of the guest list.
Grae called me while I was visiting my parents' this weekend (happy birthdays all around for everyone but Steve and I) and asked me if I wanted to go to the show. I said "sure" because all free entertainment is entertainment I can afford, and hanging out with Grae this weekend appealed to me after spending lengthy amounts of time playing Mario Golf with my brothers and fending of my crazy grandmother (who repeated the following phrase no less that five times in succession during one conversation with nothing in between: "We sure had good times, didn't we?"--really crazy).
My parents dropped me off at home with a minute to spare, and Grae and I headed downtown to get into line. While I was concerned that after attending a family dinner with no time to change I may have looked like a wacky-cracker, it turned out there were a lot of indie-rockers in attendance (as well as others... but I wasn't the whitest fixture).
Now onto the review from the point of view of someone who doesn't like hip-hop or rap or emo-hop or anything in that genre, despite this latest attempt.
2(DJ)+3(MC) = OddJobs
With three MCs, they were a lively bunch, and definitely showed that they were there to enjoy themselves and not just there to make a few dollars and see the sites. They looked like they genuinely loved what they were doing. Perhaps as this was the third show (Calgary and Nelson being their lead ins), the audience was feeding them with a little (little by Commodore calculations) crowd in front of the stage of about 100-150 people (the procession to the stage was exact pacing on the part of the audience). They reminded me of when I used to collect trading cards (for my dad. Sure he would buy them "for us" and sort them out "for us" and keep them in a binder and box for doubles "for us" and trade them at card shows to finish off the collection "for us". But really... who has the cards now, Dad?) and one of the more popular sets were of the "Yo! MTV Raps" series (I and II). There was the same image of a "band" of sorts of your DJs and your MCs and there was somehow a sense of unity within the band that other "groups" were getting by with only one DJ and one MC. The Group versus The Duo. As you can see, I haven't touched on their lyrics or their music. Get used to it. All members of the band were overdressed (I admired the one guy for keeping his touque or knitted cap on the entire cookin' time) and were rapidly turning a hip-hop display into a strip show. To my dismay or delight (not sure) they remained fully clothed after removing some two or more layers. I guess Calgary and Nelson have colder venues? Nelson. Hahahaha.
Negative Hip Hop: Brother Ali
Picture this guy from his name. What does this image conjure up. Add in the fact that he's a hip-hop artist from Minnesota. Now what do you have? If you said anything other than a tubby white bald guy, you're probably looking at the inverse negative. Is this review superficial enough yet? Wait until I get pretentious with the next group. Admittedly, if I had to make a pick for the category "Opening Act That Most Held My Interest", it would have been this anomaly of a rounder white guy (who looked older than he is). Here I go into a comment about the music of the show: it was his song "Forest Whitiker" that kept me intently tuned into what he was saying. Apologies for whatever pop-ups you suffer from that link, but for the love of the interweb get a blocker. Anyway, the "you ain't gotta love me" message was incredibly powerful coming from this strange looking guy. Evidence that self acceptance and self-appreciation are their own forms of extreme beauty, I was impressed. And so I liked him. Much like a battle hip-hop guy (white kids like me see: "8 Mile"), he was aggressive and full of stage presence. Just him and a DJ.
Divisions: Micranots
Yeah, perhaps I'm just a wacky racist or just bigoted and will never understand where the African-American communities values and attitudes fit in, but this is my take on the only "real" black hip-hop artist (Grae will have his arguments against me, to be sure): My main and number one problem (and probably my only... can't think of others, nor should I have to find other faults if they aren't there) coming from my integrated white family that promoted that all people are people and the value of their lives and choices... blah blah blah blah... is this notion of segregation that the Micranots front man took to the audience. It began by a call out of the sexes. "Ladies of the house" and "My brothers of the house" were his division lines. Perhaps because of Atmosphere (explained later), I felt that the audience had a high number of females present for a hip-hop show (most of the girls in that scene tend to go for the dance aspect of the music, while their male counter parts are drawn towards the actual hip-hop of it all); the ration was about 4:1 in favour of the guys. Anyway, I also had problems with the wording (Grae assures me that this is all normal and I am being weird) of "ladies" versus "my brothers". A division of us and them. Not dehumanizing or emphasizing differences, but certainly drawing attention that the girls in the audience are almost guests into the brotherhood (Grae is probably saying that I am reading too much into this... which I may very well be, but it made me feel like I was something other than on his side). This probably would have slid off my back had this line-drawing of us and them ceased.
But, no, he rambles off some anti-police sentiments and asks the newly-thinking youth "how much they hate the police" and proceeds to break into a wonderfully predictable audience-MC dialogue of "Fuck the police" to which the reply is every time "Fuck the police" (as I type this I picture my buddy Sting shrugging in an act of non-defiance and almost curiousity to see what the raping from 1000 19-25 year olds would be like). Yeah, fine: tradition. Yeah, fine: it's his roots. Yeah, fine: where he's from the police are bastards. Yeah, fine: his DJ was stopped by Canada Customs and not let in based on a criminal charge that may very well have been over-emphasized from either the US police of Canada Customs. But here, we are, a bunch of cracker kids, that will never (or almost never) have any serious run-in with police officers. Moreover, the odds of minorities being fucked by the police is incredibly blown out of proportion in such rags as The Province in Vancouver (anything to vilify anyone to sell papers to the thought-free masses). And further, we have some damn lenient policing in Vancouver over half-laws like marijuana. While, I am sure that our buddy from the Micranots would spend 5 to 10 years behind bars for the possession of the same amount of marijuana one would roll openly in front of a police officer here, it just doesn't happen here. He took a position of authority (in the fan-performer relation) and vilified people who chose the profession of policing. These anti-police sentiments can be appropriate when used appropriately. For instance in cases where individual police officers who have abused their authority are named. I may have let this segregation slide if it had not been for the other comments OR if he specified a specific Vancouver incident (easy homework, really) where police were in abuse of their powers and let the youth understand and communicate the frustration rather than a blanket "anyone in a position of authority should be screwed over". Okay, okay, I'll ease up about that one now. And then the third dividing line he made involved a very specific "us and them". Grae says it was a division between commercial rap and underground hip hop; I had the feeling he was talking about hip hop versus pop/rock/etc.--a division, either way. He went into inter-song banter about paying for tickets to a show ("We don't put on shows. We throw parties!") and having to sit through them fail to reproduce their studio efforts. Because y'know only underground hip hop, the art of talking in rhythm into a microphone is the only truly reproducible music in a live setting. And further, it's the only thing worth seeing live because at other shows there is no audience energy. Aren't they so great compared to everything else? That was my beef with this guy. I lost interest really fast.
"Making music for manic-depressive girls": Atmosphere
What a rock star. I am not kidding. With self-depricating lyrics, a sort of bigger-than-life, do-as-I-ask stage presence and flailing theatrics, this guy was all rock star.
As far as a show (but don't they throw parties? or was that just the Micranots... so confused) goes, it was [insert positive term here]. The audience was not only into it, they were duped into it. It was priceless. Mid-session, Mr. Dibbs (that DJ of his there), starts spinning and letting loose Rage Against the Machine's "Fuck You I Won't Do What You Tell Me". The liveliest the audience got all night (in your face, Micranots! Kidding. Sort of.). Anyway, after the stage diving and excitement from Rage settled, Slugs gets on the microphone and goes heart-to-heart with the audience, setting it up with the intent to tell them something personal. And then proceeds to point out the irony of the audience being told to (and complying with) yell along "Fuck You, I Won't Do What You Tell Me". A fault in his logic was that no one was told to yell along. Never. They just did, in a kind of youthful-uniformity that comes from attending highschool. There is a twist to the logic that wasn't really explored. Some kids may have picked up on it when they got back to Mom and/or Dad's place. Some kids will be bitter for the next week about the irony that Slugs said was being fed to them from the media because they themselves were duped into the web-of-irony. To which they are, again, eating what they are being fed. Oh, lord, have mercy on the Y generation! They know not the powers of AOL!
Did I enjoy myself? Probably on some analytical level. Was it a good enough show that the anti-hopper would recommend? Yes, just be sure to go in with a critical mind to what "the media" tell you, whether underground or otherwise.
Friday, August 22, 2003
Duke Radule’s Tribute to Wesley Willis (1963-2003)
As you may or may not be aware, schizophrenic songwriter Wesley Willis passed away on Thursday, August 21st. He was diagnosed with Chronic Myelogenous Leukemia (CML) late in 2002 and endured emergency surgery on June 2nd at Northwest Community Hospital in Arlington Heights, Illinois for unexplained internal bleeding. While recovering in an Illinois hospital, his health slowly began to deteriorate and Wes passed away yesterday…although word hasn’t spread beyond the Alternative Tentacles website.
Wesley was born on May 31st, 1963 and grew up in Chicago, Illinois, having just turned 40 this year. In 1989, Wesley was diagnosed with chronic schizophrenia, a condition that resulted in him hearing voices, often bombarding him with derogatory statements about himself. In order to combat his nagging inner demons, Wesley explored a more traditional form of artistic expression by producing hand drawings of life in the big city, from the perspective of a Chicago urbanite. By the early nineties, Wes began performing his own music in public, with only his voice and a Technics keyboard.
He can be considered the pioneer of a new style in musical lyricism, having developed a consistent song structure that formed the basis for each and every new album released from 1994 to 2002. Each song is written about a relevant subject, anything from a Hollywood icon to a Chicago newspaper headline, and follows a scheme of: positive verse, chorus, negative verse, chorus and closure. Wesley is most famous for his closures, consisting of “Rock over London, Rock on Chicago” followed by a popular commercial slogan.
Wesley has personally produced all of his own artwork and music, totaling 51 albums. Upon recommendation from Jello Biafra, his biggest fan, Alternative Tentacles produced four of his albums, including 3 greatest hits, while American records produced “Fabian Road Warrior”. Wesley’s songs are remembered for their vile, controversial and blasphemic content, as nobody on this earth will ever be as capable of laying a badass verbal smackdown as him.
Songs such as “I wupped Batman’s ass”, “Cut the Mullet” and “Rock and Roll McDonalds” took audiences by storm. On a personal note, I’ve managed to collect three of his albums and was present for his show at the Starfish Room, March 6th, 2001. It was the night before I left for Amsterdam and my friend Sean and I were of the last four admitted to a sold out show. Wes played an amazing show by himself with only Jack the pumpkin king to keep him company on stage. My only regret is not getting a head-butt from him while I had the chance between sets (his head-butt is our handshake). Fears of a concussion ruining a trip to Europe ringing in my head…
I managed to contact another live tape trader that same year, someone who read my review of the show, who sent me several videos of Wesley performing by himself and with his temporary rock band, the Fiasco. Noone knows what happened to his band, but Wesley claims the tour bus was a “hellride” and that he’d had it with the likes of them. I may offer up these videos to Alternative Tentacles in honour of a tribute that will likely emerge as an “enhanced” CD with video for the third greatest hits compilation.
I recommend you immediately go play the “Whip the donkey’s ass” game in his honour.
(Based on the song of the same title)
Also check out this link for further details.
And get some songs too, like “Scream Dracula Scream”, “Taste a panda’s ass”, “Vultures ate my dead ass up”, “I’m sorry that I got fat” and “Suck my dead Doberman’s dick”.
Duke
p.s. If anyone has the 2001 album, “Never kill an ape”, please contact me. I’m determined to find all 51.
edited by cl, 3:36pm
Thursday, August 07, 2003
Show Review: My Name is RarRar, Rahbro, Hella, Red Light Sting, & The Locust
Hadn't been to a show in some time, and I really like the Locust, and since I knew a few co-workers of mine were going, I figured it was pretty cheap and decided to go see what was up at Mesa Luna. These are my thoughts on said show:
My Name is RarRar: Well, due to cirmcumstances beyond my control I missed most of their set. (Late leaving the house, 99B-Line doesn't stop anywhere near Mesa-Luna, and the only way to access ML is through an elevator which had a really long line up.) What I did see looked promising. Bassist with wierd as looking and heavily distorted bass, drummer with a cape. They had a keyboard fed through distortion, and the keyboardist was a bald guy in clubber gear (sparkly shirt) who attacked his keyboards with a mad scientist-like rage. Their vocalist rambled all sorts of noise into the mic and convulsed, pretty much in the audience. He was clad entirely in cubscout gear, and looked like he was about to die. Musically they were pretty hard to classify, at times crazy like the locust, but others seemed to have catchy hooks. Very spazzy, but not bad, although I only caught a couple of songs.
RahBro: Two keyboardists, another heavily distorted bass guitarist, and a very odd drummer. All the band members sang, and it kind of had a new wave 80's kind of feel to it. Sounded kind of like a cracked out The Faint. 3/4's of the way through their set they had some kind of wierd dramatic interlude where three of the members seduced eachother while playing with a stuffed snke and stucka sword in each other's pants. During the last song the drummer came out and sang, and collapsed on the floor next to me. He then got back up, ripped off his pants and gyrated towards the bassist (who was now drumming). Very Weird stuff. Musically they didn't appeal to me too much (although they wrote some catchy stuff) but they won me over in sheer effort and theatrics.
Hella: I had heard goo things about Hella from a couple of co-workers, but didn't really know what to expect. They are comprised of only a guitarist and drummer, and no vocals. They put on probably the best, most intense live show I have ever seen. The drummer gave it his all, fricken hammerin' his drums (actually they borrowed the Locust's drums because theirs got stopped at the border.) as if it were one big solo the entire time. Wicked musicians, well crafted and super-epic sounding songs. I swear that was the bet drumming I have ever heard, and the guitarist was pretty intense. They had a chemistry that I have never seen before in a band. It was almost religious. I will defintaely be posting one of their songs on Friday.
The Red Light Sting: It must have sucked going on after such an amazing set, and having seen them before I wasn't really all that excited. I must say, that they really rocked the house. The kids just love this band, dancin' up a storm. I used to know one of the band members, and it was cool to see him play again. My only problem is when the keyboardist sings. I really just don't dig her style of vocals, to an almost nail-on-chalkboard proportions.
The Locust: They came out dressed in their usual bug-like suits, and played like 30 oe so songs. I swear they are like machines, playing their super chaotic and complex songs spot on. Very, very tight band. Only problem with their set was some fucking stupid moshers who were being super violent and irritating, thus distracting from what would have otherwise been a really good set. Hella was definately the highlight.
I also got the chance to hang with an old high school friend of mine, Ryan Angus, and shoot the shit about how life's hoing, and who we've seen from highschool. Pretty good times. On the way home we saw some frat boy get on the bus with an 8ft inflateble tequila bottle.
Tommorow I will give you all my review of Black Christmas, and thoughts on my most recent re-watching of the Conan films. Excelsior!
My Name is RarRar: Well, due to cirmcumstances beyond my control I missed most of their set. (Late leaving the house, 99B-Line doesn't stop anywhere near Mesa-Luna, and the only way to access ML is through an elevator which had a really long line up.) What I did see looked promising. Bassist with wierd as looking and heavily distorted bass, drummer with a cape. They had a keyboard fed through distortion, and the keyboardist was a bald guy in clubber gear (sparkly shirt) who attacked his keyboards with a mad scientist-like rage. Their vocalist rambled all sorts of noise into the mic and convulsed, pretty much in the audience. He was clad entirely in cubscout gear, and looked like he was about to die. Musically they were pretty hard to classify, at times crazy like the locust, but others seemed to have catchy hooks. Very spazzy, but not bad, although I only caught a couple of songs.
RahBro: Two keyboardists, another heavily distorted bass guitarist, and a very odd drummer. All the band members sang, and it kind of had a new wave 80's kind of feel to it. Sounded kind of like a cracked out The Faint. 3/4's of the way through their set they had some kind of wierd dramatic interlude where three of the members seduced eachother while playing with a stuffed snke and stucka sword in each other's pants. During the last song the drummer came out and sang, and collapsed on the floor next to me. He then got back up, ripped off his pants and gyrated towards the bassist (who was now drumming). Very Weird stuff. Musically they didn't appeal to me too much (although they wrote some catchy stuff) but they won me over in sheer effort and theatrics.
Hella: I had heard goo things about Hella from a couple of co-workers, but didn't really know what to expect. They are comprised of only a guitarist and drummer, and no vocals. They put on probably the best, most intense live show I have ever seen. The drummer gave it his all, fricken hammerin' his drums (actually they borrowed the Locust's drums because theirs got stopped at the border.) as if it were one big solo the entire time. Wicked musicians, well crafted and super-epic sounding songs. I swear that was the bet drumming I have ever heard, and the guitarist was pretty intense. They had a chemistry that I have never seen before in a band. It was almost religious. I will defintaely be posting one of their songs on Friday.
The Red Light Sting: It must have sucked going on after such an amazing set, and having seen them before I wasn't really all that excited. I must say, that they really rocked the house. The kids just love this band, dancin' up a storm. I used to know one of the band members, and it was cool to see him play again. My only problem is when the keyboardist sings. I really just don't dig her style of vocals, to an almost nail-on-chalkboard proportions.
The Locust: They came out dressed in their usual bug-like suits, and played like 30 oe so songs. I swear they are like machines, playing their super chaotic and complex songs spot on. Very, very tight band. Only problem with their set was some fucking stupid moshers who were being super violent and irritating, thus distracting from what would have otherwise been a really good set. Hella was definately the highlight.
I also got the chance to hang with an old high school friend of mine, Ryan Angus, and shoot the shit about how life's hoing, and who we've seen from highschool. Pretty good times. On the way home we saw some frat boy get on the bus with an 8ft inflateble tequila bottle.
Tommorow I will give you all my review of Black Christmas, and thoughts on my most recent re-watching of the Conan films. Excelsior!
Sunday, August 03, 2003
Pride Parade
It was tons of fun. I walked with not only SFU but Douglas, UBC and UVic. I ended up dressing as a cheerleader with Graeme's shirt and Karen's very short white skirt that caused me a few moments of anxiety. We had two floats and about five banners from all the organizations. We got a lot of cheers everytime we hit a pocket of students. Great Fun. I got sun stroked thought and I am still feeling this so I am not yet going to post on the housewarming party (Too tired to think much about html). I have finished Harry Potter. I have to let it sink in a bit before I give a thorough review. The ending was a little underwhelming but I think I liked it. Anyway about to drop dead of exhaustion so I will head off to bed. lots of love Rachael
Tuesday, July 22, 2003
Liver Destruction Party in (brief) Review
It was a good time had by all and only one person (that I know of) got ill. The alcohol was flowing and Moneybucks was a huge success. Trevor walked away with the gift certificates (sort of... I think Emily took them for safer keeping) with the winning "$1,400". And if nothing else, Trevor showed pure competitive spirit for this. Pictures will be up by Wednesday (pix being developed and cd'd tonight). Met some really cool new people. I'm sure everyone has better stories to tell than I do. I was just maintaining the place while trying my hardest to not drink to excess. Apologies for those that I didn't get a chance to chill with. We'll catch up at a late August party (to be announced).
Tuesday, July 15, 2003
*Wipes Krispy Kreme Donut goo from face *
Just lounging on my second of two days off. Should be cleaning, repairing the damage the fleas hve wrought, and preparing the house for the liver destruction party. Alas, we are very uninspired to do so. We got off to a good start, cleaning the bedroom and living room to some extent, but thats about it. I did by more dish detergent and quarters for laundry, so it might be poosible that we get a little more done today. I work best under pressure, so I imagine the house will be done Saturday, about 5min after guests arrive.
Corinne has put me in charge of the mp3 friday postings, so stay tuned for that as I plan to unleash a little musical mayhem. On this note I figured I'd give you all a review of one of the newest albums I picked up. (Actually, Jym at work got me a play copy, so much props to him.) The album in question is the new NOFX album "The War on Errorism." First off, I have to say that the last few NOFX albums have left me rather unimpressed. That being said, this album definately blows them out of the water. It seems to have more of a purpose than the last few. It has been said that "Nothing provokes good punk rock like a republican in the white house", and this album proves this adage to be true. NOFX, never much of a political band (with the exception of "The Decline" and a couple token tracks) have put out a much more political album than they ever have. Tracks such as "The Irrationality of Rationality," "Franco Un-American" and "American Errorist" showcase this new found political side. They also seem to be keen on criticizing the punk scene ("The Separation of Church and Skate" and "Medio-core") and introding the kids to new bands with tales of their roots. ("We Got Two Jealous Agains" and "13 Stitches"). There still some of the traditional fun NOFX songs thrown there too, with "She's Nubs" being a tribute to a punk rock amputee (a cute, yet wacky track, no doubt) and "Mattersville" which is about a gated punk rock community where they all live. (The line about Davey Havok is classic.). All in all, a nice, complete package, with some nice extra computer stuff thrown in. (Which feature a live video of "Ignorant son of an asshole." filmed at the Warped Tour in Vancouver last year. Woot) It's nice to see that they haven't lost their edge, and that seem honestly concerned with the state of things today, rather than just making a buck, which is how it seemed with their last few albums.
I don't think I will need to eat for a few days, what with all the meat, and donuts I've eaten in the last 24 hours.
Just lounging on my second of two days off. Should be cleaning, repairing the damage the fleas hve wrought, and preparing the house for the liver destruction party. Alas, we are very uninspired to do so. We got off to a good start, cleaning the bedroom and living room to some extent, but thats about it. I did by more dish detergent and quarters for laundry, so it might be poosible that we get a little more done today. I work best under pressure, so I imagine the house will be done Saturday, about 5min after guests arrive.
Corinne has put me in charge of the mp3 friday postings, so stay tuned for that as I plan to unleash a little musical mayhem. On this note I figured I'd give you all a review of one of the newest albums I picked up. (Actually, Jym at work got me a play copy, so much props to him.) The album in question is the new NOFX album "The War on Errorism." First off, I have to say that the last few NOFX albums have left me rather unimpressed. That being said, this album definately blows them out of the water. It seems to have more of a purpose than the last few. It has been said that "Nothing provokes good punk rock like a republican in the white house", and this album proves this adage to be true. NOFX, never much of a political band (with the exception of "The Decline" and a couple token tracks) have put out a much more political album than they ever have. Tracks such as "The Irrationality of Rationality," "Franco Un-American" and "American Errorist" showcase this new found political side. They also seem to be keen on criticizing the punk scene ("The Separation of Church and Skate" and "Medio-core") and introding the kids to new bands with tales of their roots. ("We Got Two Jealous Agains" and "13 Stitches"). There still some of the traditional fun NOFX songs thrown there too, with "She's Nubs" being a tribute to a punk rock amputee (a cute, yet wacky track, no doubt) and "Mattersville" which is about a gated punk rock community where they all live. (The line about Davey Havok is classic.). All in all, a nice, complete package, with some nice extra computer stuff thrown in. (Which feature a live video of "Ignorant son of an asshole." filmed at the Warped Tour in Vancouver last year. Woot) It's nice to see that they haven't lost their edge, and that seem honestly concerned with the state of things today, rather than just making a buck, which is how it seemed with their last few albums.
I don't think I will need to eat for a few days, what with all the meat, and donuts I've eaten in the last 24 hours.
Monday, June 02, 2003
The Weekend in Review:
Friday:
I worked late Friday and sold little. It was very slow at work. I also found out that since my computer department is fusing with the Personal Electornics department, that I will be losing a huge chunk of my base salary, relying on the higher profitablilty of P.E. to make up the difference. However I did calculations and found that if I were to have had the exact same month as I did this month under the new salary structure, I would make nearly $300 less, and Tim would make over $300 less than he otherwise would have. Also, even if we were to have been paid entirely in P.E.
and none in computers we still would have made less. Fuckers.
After work I was supposed to go to a movie with a friend who will remain unnamed. Once again, I got the shaft and it was cancelled last minute. "Her boyfriend wasn't into seeing a movie." Honestly, I have no idea why I try sometimes. Henceforth only minimal effort will be put into that relationship, since it is obvious that no effort I give will be reciprocated.
Saturday:
Worked during the day, and found out that Conan's going away party was at the same time as my friend's Keg Party: That very night. Work sucked.
Got a lift from my man Nate, in his kick-ass truck of doom, to the party.
It was a wicked kegger, I got right drunk. And then the bong was passed around a bit. Yikes. So I was talking to a group of people when Bob approaches me and says that my presence was needed.. I follow him to the washroom were I find Corinne passed out in Rachael's arms on the bathroom floor. It was a little too much for my current state I must say, and Rachael gave me the most disapproving motherly look. Eventually we get Corinne upstairs, but thats when she started puking (well more like spitting and foaming as she hadn't eaten in a whole day). I watch her making sure she doesn't fall back onto her back and choke to death, but eventually start puking as well. (I probably wouldn't have if it weren't for a 1/2 hour of watching Corinne do it, an exerting much effort in getting her up to the bucket.) We almost took her to the hospital (much props to Gareth and Mike for your help) but at the last minute she showed positive signs (as you can read in her post).
Good Times.
Sunday.
Slept in and answered many calls concerning Corinne's well-being. As Andrew called in sick Corinne and I went to Ozzy Osbourne. Definately the most metal show I have ever been too. Voivod was awful, except the epic last song. Finger Eleven was great, lots of stage energy (their guitarist jumped more than any guitarist I have ever seen...), pretty good songs, but the crowd were there to see Ozzy. And Ozzy, well he's old. He shuffled across the stage like an old geezer, and yelled "I can't fucking hear you" over and over again. He was backed by some awseome musicians (including former Metallica, and current Voivod bassist Jason Newstead) and played alot of recognizable tracks. There were a few Black Sabbath tracks played which really was all I was was there for. (He played Paranoid as the last song of the encore). It was fun, what with the box seats, the free food, free beer and all.
Friday:
I worked late Friday and sold little. It was very slow at work. I also found out that since my computer department is fusing with the Personal Electornics department, that I will be losing a huge chunk of my base salary, relying on the higher profitablilty of P.E. to make up the difference. However I did calculations and found that if I were to have had the exact same month as I did this month under the new salary structure, I would make nearly $300 less, and Tim would make over $300 less than he otherwise would have. Also, even if we were to have been paid entirely in P.E.
and none in computers we still would have made less. Fuckers.
After work I was supposed to go to a movie with a friend who will remain unnamed. Once again, I got the shaft and it was cancelled last minute. "Her boyfriend wasn't into seeing a movie." Honestly, I have no idea why I try sometimes. Henceforth only minimal effort will be put into that relationship, since it is obvious that no effort I give will be reciprocated.
Saturday:
Worked during the day, and found out that Conan's going away party was at the same time as my friend's Keg Party: That very night. Work sucked.
Got a lift from my man Nate, in his kick-ass truck of doom, to the party.
It was a wicked kegger, I got right drunk. And then the bong was passed around a bit. Yikes. So I was talking to a group of people when Bob approaches me and says that my presence was needed.. I follow him to the washroom were I find Corinne passed out in Rachael's arms on the bathroom floor. It was a little too much for my current state I must say, and Rachael gave me the most disapproving motherly look. Eventually we get Corinne upstairs, but thats when she started puking (well more like spitting and foaming as she hadn't eaten in a whole day). I watch her making sure she doesn't fall back onto her back and choke to death, but eventually start puking as well. (I probably wouldn't have if it weren't for a 1/2 hour of watching Corinne do it, an exerting much effort in getting her up to the bucket.) We almost took her to the hospital (much props to Gareth and Mike for your help) but at the last minute she showed positive signs (as you can read in her post).
Good Times.
Sunday.
Slept in and answered many calls concerning Corinne's well-being. As Andrew called in sick Corinne and I went to Ozzy Osbourne. Definately the most metal show I have ever been too. Voivod was awful, except the epic last song. Finger Eleven was great, lots of stage energy (their guitarist jumped more than any guitarist I have ever seen...), pretty good songs, but the crowd were there to see Ozzy. And Ozzy, well he's old. He shuffled across the stage like an old geezer, and yelled "I can't fucking hear you" over and over again. He was backed by some awseome musicians (including former Metallica, and current Voivod bassist Jason Newstead) and played alot of recognizable tracks. There were a few Black Sabbath tracks played which really was all I was was there for. (He played Paranoid as the last song of the encore). It was fun, what with the box seats, the free food, free beer and all.
Monday, May 05, 2003
Chinese Wedding A-Go-Go
A review by Corinne the Bean
Grae and I showed up at 6pm, just as the itinerary stated. Met up with Justin and his Inframations crew up front. They were doing the techie stuff for the wedding. Things like having people sign on a digital pad for the guest book, digital pictures taken in one of those trelis thingies, filming and projection of all guests entering into the main room.
After getting digitized to the nth degree, You walk past professional photos of the bride and groom blown up to cover the entire mantlepiece (and then some). There are four of these. I was partial to the bride and groom shimmying in their white tux and bridal gown. They were by and large absurd potraits, nothing like the portraits you would get at Sears, but just as awkward.
The wedding reception was essentially a 3 hour dinner and show with the bride and groom changing at least 7 times. The meal was 11 courses long.
I'll post pictures, eventually.
Saturday, April 12, 2003
Bend it Like Beckham
Here is where I go a wee girly (don't worry it's just temporary): OMG! <3<3<3!! I tolly <3 accents! OMG what a hottie! /girly.
Alright, aside from the cute boy (which I will add is not that cute but he has an accent worthy of my attention and portrays a sweet, lovely boy in need of some serious corruption) I do have valid things to say about this movie.
Now on with the show:
I liked it. That's an in depth review if ever there was one, eh?
Anyway, I don't want to insult it or make it sound bad but the synopsis is about an (East) Indian girl who's family insists that she respect and honour her family name by acting like a proper Indian (marry Indian, cook Indian, act Indian, dress like a girl). The crux of the conflict comes in with Jasminder's (Jas) desire to play "footy" (Football/Soccer). And from what she's played in the park with her all guy soccer group: she's a respectable player. Cut to cracker girl (Juliet/Jules) jogging in the park. Spots Jasminder and tells her she should try out for the team that Juliet plays for. Jasminder does, and the coach (Joe) is impressed and puts her on the team.
The story is really about one's conflicts with family tradition, pressures and expectations. All three of the main characters have some sort of failure to live up to their parent's expectations or desires for them. Both Jas and Jules are product of biased parents (primarily their mothers). Jules's mother wants her to stop playing football, wear lacey undergarments and dress more femine like so that she can attract the boys better. Jas's mother has told her explicitly to stop with the football and to start learning how to attract and marry an Indian husband. Joe is on the other side of things. After pressure from his father to participate more heavily in football, Joe sustains a permanent injury that prevents him from playing, and forces him into coaching. Underlying this coaching "problem" is that he has decided to coach a women's team.
That's the crux of the story. Where I thought the movie succeeded was in the portrayal of being torn between family and self, with two equally important things occuring on the same day. I found myself clapping at a goal (forgive me, I was exhausted and for a brief moment film and reality blurred). I found myself really rooting for the "home team" to win (Jas getting the boy, Jas scoring the goal, Jas getting on the team).
The cinematography was really good as well. The cut scenes between a wedding and a game to emphasize the importance of events in each person's life was well done. And while normally I am not a big fan of Indian music, it was well woven in. I think I even heard the British Columbian singer who covers Celine Dion in India--she's made quite a name for herself.
It is still a story about a girl coming of age, but at least it used a story line and underlying circumstances that were interesting.
Arbitrary score of 171.
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