Stream of Consciousness

Note: I'm tired, behind on sleep, possibly grumpy, definitely loopy, exhausted, and just realizing that I have yet to make a blog post this week. Not usually the first thing on my mind when I have a test in HEL (History of the English Language) and essays and such due. Along with excessive classes. And other random tasks. Anyway, since I've been subjected to Virginia Woolf lately, and I now know why people might be afraid of her, I've decided to inflict the stream of consciousness style on the few people that actually read my blog. If this is somewhere other than my blogger blog, then it's just me deciding to subject everybody to my random thoughts.

Because I'm cruel and unusual. And thus violate at least one amendment. And several international treaties. Anyway, my latest inspiration for exhaustion was the campus coffee house Halloween party I just attended. Halloween kind of snuck up on me this year, with my costume coming together all of 2 days before the festivities. I spent the morning alternating between writing an essay on the theme of T.S. Eliot's play The Glass Menagerie and figuring out the perfect way to recreate blood splatter from battling zombies.

For those wondering, a great way to recreate blood spatter requires only two things, a cheap plastic squirt bottle sold with travel toiletries at most anywhere, and a bottle of realistic looking but not extremely thick fake blood, like the big bottles Wal Mart sells every Halloween for 5 bucks or so. Anyway, take the blood and fill the water bottle to the top. Then, make sure to set the shirt or other object that is about to become blood covered on some surface where, well, bleed through won't cause any damage. This fake blood stuff really leaves a stain.

The rest is just fun. Spray the blood in somewhat of a random pattern, standing a good couple of feet away from the target. Make sure the sprayer is set to a direct jet and not a mist, or things might get misty and messy. Once firing has completed, let the now bloody object dry for several hours.

If you're wondering, all this bloodying was for my costume, Shaun of the Dead. Shaun of the Dead is one of the funniest movies ever, and British to boot. Basically, zombie apocalypse comes to London, and the protagonist Shaun has to survive it while also making up with his girlfriend. It's funny, scary, gorey, and even a wee bit touching, all in one.

The basic costume of Shaun required some improvising but turned out beautifully. I'll probably post pictures once I get them from someone at the party. Anyway, the party itself was fun, though I was plagued by the endless madness and hordes of freshman. Even a cricket bat couldn't fend off their sheer annoyingness. Yes, annoyingness isn't a word, but I'm an English major, so I can invent it. (Note: If any freshman from my college are reading this, I'm probably not talking about you. Maybe. Depending on the weather and the alignment of the planets.) The only thing that made it tolerable was a particularly sarcastic vampiric friend of mine. Having her fellow twisted world view around was about the only thing saving me from madness induced by obnoxious younglings (2 invented words). Well, sinking into some other form of madness. Something more akin to being post-lobotomy, rather than pre-.

And now I'm staring at a stuffed rat sitting on my desk. I should say stuffed animal, as it's green and fuzzy and comes from a crane game. It's a personal addiction, if I think I can win a crane game, I have to play it. Anyway, I was going to take the rat with me to the Halloween party, but it completely slipped my mind as I ran out the door.

Which leads me to the end of the party. We finished with our annual Scary Story Night, which is a recounting of the college's "infamous" tales and the telling of any personal paranormal experiences. Every year I find myself so out of place, since I have no story to tell and find myself internally tearing apart the more ridiculous aspects of stories. I'm an ingrained critic, what can I say? Maybe someday something will change my world view.

Anyway, that was Halloween and my exhausted mind. Maybe I'll be more ready next year. Until then, until tomorrow, until sometime, it's bed time. Sleep sounds beautiful, with or without haunted dreams.

Blood, Guts, and Transvestites

Halloween has arrived, and thus its time for people of all ages across the country to scare themselves silly. Haunted Houses open across the land, pumpkins are mutilated in various ways, and the college campus is overwhelmed by paranoid ghost stories. I’ve made it a goal to add at least another 3 of them to the local canon. And I’m sure I can get plenty of people to believe them.

Possibly the most popular way to induce scares and get into the spirit of the holiday is cinema. Horror movies have long been a staple of Hollywood, ever since the days when Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff terrorized audiences as classic monsters like Dracula and the Mummy. Over the years, Horror has become a goldmine for the movie industry, with a never-ending audience. As long as there are young people willing to pay 8 bucks to be scared, there will be horror movies.

Since they’re so readily successful, no matter what the quality, most scary movies these days are of dubious quality. And by dubious quality, I mean they’re absolutely atrocious. Currently, most of these movies fall into two categories. They’re either movies that scare the audience by things constantly jumping out and going “Boo!,” or they wallow in a sewer of gore, leaving the audience feeling dirty and needing some theater equivalent of air-sickness bags. Saw IV is the latest in the latter category of movies and has become a new Halloween tradition, at least for Hollywood.

These movies will continue to come out like clockwork, the occasional good, but mostly the bad and gruesomely ugly. For those tired of this endless stream of mediocrity, or those just looking for another good scare, here is a list of some classic movies befitting any Halloween.


1. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974)
Subjected to a far inferior re-make a few years ago, the original Chainsaw Massacre is still one of the landmark films in horror cinema. The entire proceedings resemble some twisted home movie, as seemingly innocuous individuals are subjected to increasingly horrifying situations. The amateur level of acting simply adds to the atmosphere, making things seem just a little too real.

The “monsters” of the movie spawned a long string of imitators. The family of cannibalistic maniacs, headed by the mute, chainsaw wielding Leatherface, makes for unsettling viewing even when they’re not preparing people for dinner. The infamous dinner scene is still one of the most disturbing and terrifying moments in film, and all without a single drop of gore within sight.


2. Silence of the Lambs
Not traditionally considered a horror movie, this is another tale of cannibals and killers that will disturb anyone with an open mind. A mind that can be served with fava beans and a nice Chianti. Anthony Hopkins plays his most famous role as serial killer Hannibal Lecter, a man who balances culture and psychosis. He’s not even the villain, leaving the main attraction to Buffalo Bill, a man who takes cross-dressing to horrifying new levels.

The film is a staple of pop culture and infinitely referenced, but it still has the same impact it did over a decade ago. Skins still crawl whenever Hannibal makes his famous slurping noise.


3. Rocky Horror Picture Show
So it’s cheating a bit. Rocky Horror Picture Show is not horrifying in any traditional sense. However, any movie that features Tim Curry in drag and encourages random people to do likewise is at least a little disturbing and unnerving.

If you’re in college and haven’t heard of Rocky Horror, you’re a pitiful virgin. And I don’t mean in the sense of not having sex. The film is one of the greatest group experiences in movies, being a ridiculous musical about a transvestite named Frankfurter who creates the perfect man while also entertaining, and seducing, a young couple. It’s the most popular midnight movie ever, with a cult following devoted to dressing like their favorite characters, shouting out comments, and throwing props during the film.

This list should provide a starting point for any Halloween movie fest. These aren’t the only good Halloween movies out there, and even the bad ones can provide some great unintentional humor. It doesn’t really matter what you watch, as long as you embrace one of the greatest holidays, when grown men and women can dress up any way they want and not receive dirty looks.

Album Review: †

French techno is a genre that screams annoying and pretentious. The name itself evokes images of bored looking people standing in a dank club, clutching half-finished cigarettes, listening to some repetitive beat interrupted with the occasional random hiccough in the sequence every hour or so. Music that is nothing close to danceable unless the listeners are under the influence of some illicit substances. And nothing you’d want to listen to outside of a dance club.

The French techo duo Justice obliterates any such notions. Having already found
success abroad with remixes and collaborations, the duo released its first album, comprised of both brand new material and previously released singles. The album is simply titled †, called Cross for those who don’t like using cryptic symbols. While some songs have biblically epic names, the music is definitely not some wimpy Christian rock. This is hardcore dance that will obliterate eardrums.

The album starts with the appropriately titled “Genesis,” a song that has a stuttering start, just enough to fill the dance floor, before it takes off. The rest of the album barely stops for rest, sequenced so that every song bleeds into the next, leaving 48 minutes straight of music. Highlights include “Let There Be Light,” “Phantom,” “Phantom Pt. II,” and “Stress.” “D.A.N.C.E” is the potential crossover hit of the record, being a tribute to Michael Jackson that sounds like a spiritual remix of a long lost Jackson 5 single.

Almost the entire album is instrumental, but the lack of vocals is to the records advantage. The sounds themselves are metallic, loud, driving, and energetic. Lyrics would only get in the way of the music. This becomes obvious on the one song with proper vocals, “Tthhee Ppaarrttyy,” which is the low point of the album. It drops the speed to a near halt, and includes some of the most benign rapping heard in ages.

The record soon recovers its energy, however, and powers on through the last few songs. It’s an exhilarating rush that will make anyone ready to dance, even those who don’t appreciate techno. While maybe not a religious experience, † is still a thrill.

4 out of 5

Despoilment of My Childhood, Take 2

Comic books, the cornerstone of any geeky youth. I (vaguely) remember the days when I would eagerly buy any comic book I could afford, usually either something Marvel or one of many random titles. I was actually pretty young when I stopped caring about comic books and started reading slightly more challenging fair (I read a novel by paleontologist Robert Bakker when I was in elementary school. Raptor Red, a really strange book if I remember correctly.) Anyway, still, comic books proved a valuable part in the first growing spurts of my love of reading.

Thus, when I came across one of my forgotten favorite websites, I found my childhood once again laid waste. Sort of.

May I present, SuperDickery.com

I say sort of, because most comics featured on the website come from before I was even born. However, it's still one of the most hilarious websites on the internet. Comic books are naturally bizarre, but sometimes the weirdness exceeds itself into hilarity. The website started by showing old Superman comics where Superman was being, well, a dick. The site has expanded to cover other randomness in old comics, including war propaganda and unintentional corrupting of the youth. The war propaganda is especially interesting for history buffs, as it really shows both the national attitude during past wars and some of the sheer racism exhibited (watch for the character named "Whitewash.")

What follows are some choice examples from the site. There's a wealth more to be found on the site itself, so please go and enjoy laughing at the absurdity of it all. (Comments with pictures are taken from the website as well.)

"Superman's Catholic?"

" Having them mention boner once or twice is mildly funny. But the fact
that they just kept on saying it made me shoot Coca-Cola out my nose."

Rage Against the Machine (of Low Prices)

Ah, Wal-Mart. My eternal foe. Whenever I feel there is something wrong in the world, Wal-Mart is always somewhere on my list of scapegoats. It could be a plague in Malaysia, but somehow, Wal-Mart must be connected. They're just that evil. Or maybe I'm just that delusional.

Anyway, one of my continuous rants about Wal-Mart is there policy on music. As a reaction to the creation of the parental advisory label, Wal-Mart made it a company policy to never stock music labeled explicit, requiring all such music be edited for content before they would carry it. Thus, for years I've been forced to spend far more money at other stores or travel long distances just to find the same cd my local Wal-Mart carries, because the Wal-Mart copy has been edited to ribbons. They'll sell R rated movies filled with sex and violence, but a record says one too many naughty words and its banned from the store.

That's my standard music rant. However, today I found myself further frustrated by a specific Wal-Mart, my college's local Wal-Mart. The music section is so pitiful that for the last month I have not been able to find a single new release that I know my home town store carries. Further, Wal-Mart is the only place in town that actually sells new music, with the next closest place being a 40 minute drive away. So, someone who tries to blog about music and writes about music for the school newspaper is left with no decent avenues to get new music.

Did I mention I hate Wal-Mart?

Random Thoughts #3

1. If I had a cd for every random musical style and genre, I'd have music for years. Genres and styles have little to no meaning, with the same band often labeled dozens of different things depending on which critic is writing, which fan is gushing, or which detractor is complaining.

I understand this completely, and know to be wary of those labels. But I still find myself enticed by the briefest mention of certain genres. If someone says a song is a Krautrock homage, I suddenly have to listen to that song. And the weird thing is, I really don't even listen to Krautrock. I don't even own a Kraftwerk album. Yet I'm listening to the Red Hot Chili Pepper's "Animal Bar" because the song is supposed to be imitating Krautrock. I confuse myself so much.

2. I did link to Wikipedia in the previous thought, but to those wondering, Krautrock is a term applying to bands that came from a certain musical scene in Germany in the 60s and 70s. It was based on heavy use of electronic instruments and repetitive beats to create "rock" music that was both coldly robotic yet still interesting and beautiful. And also very danceable if slightly remixed.

The leaders, and most well-known, of this genre were/are Kraftwerk, who had an obsession with bicycles and robots. They often even sent perfect replica dummies in place of themselves for many things. Their song "Tour de France" is probably the best song ever about a bicycle race.

3. Music fans are incredibly ungrateful. Now that the previously mentioned Radiohead album has been available online for a day, a certain group of fans have begun complaining about the slightly reduced sound quality. They get the newest Radiohead album for free months before it'll even be available in stores, and yet they still complain like they've been injured somehow.

Looking. Gift Horse. Mouth.

The Revolution (and Rainbows) Will Be Downloaded

Today is a big day for music. Why? Because Radiohead releases it's new album. Now that would be important enough, as a Radiohead album is always an interesting event for the world of music. But it's especially interesting because the album is available online. From them. For any price you wish. And yes, this includes the price of $0.00.

There is a caveat, of course. The album isn't the greatest sound quality in the world, due to the file size, but it's still supposedly perfectly listenable. Only the true audiophiles will be that disturbed, and they can wait for the physical album release sometime early next year.

Still, this is a revolutionary move. One of the biggest bands on the planet releasing an album for any price including free, with no record label attached. It's pretty much embracing the fact that people will download the album illegally to preview it before they spend the money for their own copy. It should be interesting to see if this makes any impact at all upon how albums are released, if there will be any imitators, or if this experiment will fail miserably.

Either way, cheap/free Radiohead!: "Purchase" the Album

Note: The website is running a bit slow, mostly because people from across the planet are flooding it to download the album. I'm surprised it's holding up this well, really.

Random Thoughts #2

1. It's odd how I can completely forget I bought an album and liked it, but never really listened to it, until someone or something sparks interest in it again. Last night a friend ecstatically borrowed all of the My Chemical Romance cds while at our campus coffee house, and someone then proceeded to start playing The Black Parade on their laptop. It really is a fun album, and I'm re-listening to it finally.

2. In a related note, Teenagers don't scare the living shit out of me, but they do make me point and laugh. Especially when I walk by a Hot Topic in the mall. I've never seen so much money spent to look dark, grungey, or retro. And yet I still go in the place, for some reason. There's always the clearance rack, I guess.

3. There is no 3. Except there is, therefore the previous statement is false. Which would mean there is no 3, which would mean that statement is true, which would mean....

I really shouldn't try and think while I'm still technically sick.

I'm not dead yet....

Complete inactivity on the blog for about a week usually signifies laziness and indifference. Even though I'm nigh constantly guilty of these two things, for once I have an honest excuse. I was temporarily incapacitated by major illness, including fever, chills, exhaustion, aches, and a sore throat that felt like rusty nails were being shoved down it every time I swallowed. It was probably divine vengeance for something I've done, though I continue to blame the cafeteria food.

For once in my life I actually listened to common sense and decided to visit a doctor. This decision was spurred by the loss of my voice and the increase or pain level to rusty and searing hot nails being shoved down my throat. The doctor fit the mold of our little town's fanaticism perfectly. I was sick, I'm a college student, thus, I must have mono. I was even subjected to a blood test for mono, meaning needles, the bane of my existence. This all would have been unnecessary if he would have read the strep throat test closer, as the nurses eventually did.

Thus, I was finally diagnosed successfully with a particularly nasty case of strep throat. Seriously, the nurse who first checked my throat was doing that thing with other nurses where she tries to outdo them with the worst thing she's seen, and my throat was her latest example. Anyway, I received a prescription for penicillin and was sent home. That was it. Penicillin. No pain killers, no magic throat spray, nothing to help with the whole hot-knives-down-throat thing. The joys of modern medicine.

Anyway, its day five for the strep throat, and I'm finally feeling close to normal. Still exhausted, but that's nothing new anyway. And if I ever do get mono, I know I'll be well taken care of apparently.