El Nino

You may have noticed that this year has been wetter than last. It’s rained almost every day this summer, where as last year it was devastatingly dry. It’s not that the South’s long drought is over– it’s actually El Niño. El Niño means “the child” in Spanish, but more specifically refers to the Christ child. It is so named because in South America the phenomenon is most noticeable around Christmas. Also called the Southern Oscillation, El Niño occurs every three to eight years, though it has no well-defined period.

Scientists have known about El Niño for a long time. The phenomenon was observed as far back as the Holocene epoch, 10,000 years ago. The first time this recurring weather pattern was referred to as the Christ child was in the late 1800s. Around that time scientists began to notice that droughts in India and Australia occurred simultaneously. In 1924 Gilbert Walker observed the interactions between warm sea air and cooler land air in the Pacific ocean. He called the predictable pattern the Southern Oscillation. The Southern Oscillation is the atmospheric counterpart to El Niño, and is what drives the system. We now know that the Walker circulation (named for Gilbert), a group of trade winds in the Pacific, begins to falter as one of the first signs that an El Niño event is beginning. When these trade winds die, water in the Pacific produce warm waves that travel along the equator to the South American coast, which is usually cold due to upwellings of cooler, deeper waters. But the added warmth of these waves begins a trend that builds over time until an El Niño event occurs.

Other than the near-daily rain, El Niño also effects the South in other beneficial ways. The summer temperature is lower during El Niño, and the added rainfall reduces the risk of wild fires. We’ll also experience a wetter, milder winter this year. And because it diverts heat from the Atlantic to the Pacific, expect this hurricane season to produce few large storms, thanks to El Niño.

But not all the effects are good. Warmer water off the coast of South America reduce the nutrient content of the water, harming the fishing industry. And a wetter growing season means later and smaller crop harvests, in most cases. Midwestern states are more likely to flood as well. There is also some evidence of a correlation between the increase in algae blooms (or red tide) off the California coast.

Though it can last for up to two years, this El Niño is expected to only last through winter. If it persists Spring 2010 will be colder and dryer. La Niña, the sister system to El Niño, always follows. Expect a hotter, dryer summer next year. So enjoy this respite while you can, because next year promises to be nearly unbearable.

Mamas, don't let your babies grow to be hobos

To the freshmen now flooding the sidewalks and congesting the thoroughfares, welcome to Valdosta! We’re so glad to have you and your money (and your parents’ money). Most of you are coming from communities much smaller than V-town, places we refer to as the Boonies, or BFE. As such you’re going to experience things that you never would at home. For instance, Valdosta doesn’t shut down at nine each night. The bars are open til two, followed by late night trips to the Waffle House. You could actually stay out all night and be thoroughly entertained. And we have two (count them, two!) Wal-Marts. We refer to them as Wal-Mart, and the good Wal-Mart. Valdosta is almost an actual, bona fide metropolis. Our downtown scene is really spectacular– on top of the multitude of bars at which to wile away hours waxing philosophical in an inebriated state, there are beautiful boutiques, superb shops, great galleries and rad restaurants. And the bums are the bomb. Any metropolis worth living in has them. We have a standard assortment– there’s the sweet guy who sleeps on the bench but doesn’t bother anyone, the old, thin one who talks to himself, and the one who isn’t homeless but looks like he is, who chases you around on his Rascal asking you if he can “warsh yer windahs,” which I think means “wash your windows.” My bike has no windows, though, so he usually leaves me alone. The standard urban legend about the homeless is that they’re secretly super rich, with a stash of gold doubloons hidden somewhere in the sewers. Heck, some of you doe-eyed freshmen may some day, if you apply yourselves correctly, join the unwashed masses and become bums yourselves. Yes, a leisurely life of panhandling may be in your future, if you play your cards right. Imagine how at peace you’d be with no school, no job, no family, no cares in the world. Just you, your bindle (that’s the hobo stick with the handkerchief at the end) and perhaps a mangy mutt as your faithful companion.

If you’re now considering a life as a vagrant, you’d better first figure out what type of bum you want to be. There are a few varieties of vagrants. A hobo, for instance, tends to travel more than a standard bum. Hobos wonder from city to city, with no real base of operation. They’re the type who travel in open train cars. If this appeals to you, consider becoming a hobo. If you’re prone to motion sickness, consider a more stationary vagrancy, like being a tramp. They travel by foot. If you see a tramp on a bike, feel free to kick him off. Tramps aren’t allowed to use vehicles of any sort, so by his violating that rule he forfeits his right to the Huffy.

If you, like me, like to drink– a lot– then you’d be most comfortable as a wino. I know what you’re thinking, you don’t like wine. Me neither, but the modern wino doesn’t necessarily have to drink that potent potable. No, winos enjoy all varieties of liquors. Gin and juice is popular for black bums, but white bums prefer whiskey. To each his own.

Unlike success in life, becoming a bum doesn’t require hard work nor discipline, but it does require practice. You can tell the difference between a bum who has been on the street for decades from one who is fresh on the job– there are subtle panhandling techniques that one masters only after years on the job. But don’t worry about that, it’ll come with time. If you really want to free yourself of the burdens of society and start a carefree life as a vagrant, all you have to do is ignore every piece of advice your mother ever gave you. It turns out all that nagging was geared toward preventing you from becoming a bum.

Brush your teeth. Oral hygiene may be the most decisive factor in becoming a street urchin. Regardless of their individual situations, all bums have bad teeth– it’s as if they’re British. I’ve never seen a bum with Da Vinci veneers. According to a statistic I just made up, the average street beggar has six teeth, and when you think about it, you don’t need any more than that. Three teeth on top, three on bottom. Two molars for crushing, two canines for ripping, two bicuspids for cutting. When you live your life on the move, you’ve really got to streamline your body, dumping excess weight that only slows you down. Considering that, losing unnecessary teeth only makes sense. Dumping two ounces of teeth makes you two ounces faster. And while you might not think that small weight would make a difference, it could be the deciding factor in whether you clear the chromed bumper of the rapidly approaching H2 as you jaywalk across the interstate. So if you want to be a bum, stop brushing. Also, consider trying meth, as it’ll help you rid yourself of unwanted teeth.

Don’t do drugs. I don’t mean weed, smoking pot won’t set you on a path to bumdom, contrary to what your parents, priest, guidance counselor and favorite NBC stars may tell you. The more you know, my butt! To become a bum you’ve got to do hard stuff. Start with crack, since you don’t have to inject that (though if you do, you’ll trip your balls off). Drinking heavily helps too. If you can manage to sell off all your possessions for drugs and booze you’ll be a bum before you can say “spare change?”


Always wear clean underwear. And, as an extension of that, always wear clean clothes. This one is pretty obvious in it’s effect– bums are always dirty, usually wearing the same clothes until they (the clothes) fall to pieces. Most often you’ll see bums layered in clothing, kind of like a protective shell of filthy fabric. This serves three main purposes. First, it’s insulation against the elements. Second, it’s padding, helping bums to survive the impact of the chrome H2 bumper that clips them as they jaywalk across the interstate. Third, the dirty layers of laundry act as people repellent. Nothing annoys a bum more than people coming up to them. Ironic, isn’t it? But being a bum usually requires a certain degree of antisocial tendencies. Those seven stinky shirts help bums shun civilians.

Eat your veggies. One of the best kept mom secrets is how exactly veggies are good for you. The truth is that green vegetables promote positive brain chemistry. Little did you know that broccoli fights dementia, brussel spouts prevents paranoia, and spinach cures syphilis. Interesting side note: cucumbers can cause syphilis, if used inappropriately. Eating your greens may be the one thing preventing you from a life of giving zj’s under the overpass for fifteen bucks a pop (if you have to ask what a zj is, you can’t afford one).

A few weeks ago I lost my job waiting tables at a local restaurant. I won’t say which one, but I’ll give you a hint: it has an Australian theme and it’s name rhymes with Goutback. I’m estranged from most of my family, by choice, so I had to depend on my friends to survive until I (luckily) got a job. I realized how close I was to homelessness. Good thing my roommates are so compassionate. Otherwise, I would have been one of those perpetually drunk derelicts asking to “warsh yer windahs.” If you find yourself being excessively harassed by a street person, try this trick: keep a few of those tiny two-for-a-dollar bottles of gin in your purse or pocket, and any time a bum accosts you toss one of those suckers to distract him as you make your getaway.

District 9 delivers actions, attempts social commentary

Twenty eight years ago a massive alien space craft (remember the mother ship from Independence Day?) appears over Johannesburg, South Africa. Instead of sending down a envoy or attacking, it merely hangs there, motionless in the sky several thousand meters up. After three months mankind eventually sends a recon team up to the ship. They discover that it is silent and inoperable and that the aliens aboard, who seem to have evolved from crustaceans, are extremely sick, malnourished and on the verge of death. They appear directionless, as if they are but the worker class and all their leaders are gone, presumably killed by some disease, the same disease that has left the remaining aliens in such a sickly state. The aliens, pejoratively called “Prawns” for their resemblance to the delicious crayfish, are ferried down to the Earth’s surface and detained in District 9, an area of Johannesburg that soon becomes their ghetto. D-9 quickly accrues all the vices of any slum, including drug trade, prostitution, illegal weapons dealing and every other black market activity you could imagine. Fast forward to the present day, where Multi-National United (MNU) is contracted to relocate the alien slum to a new camp hundreds of kilometers away from the city. Bumbling middle-level bureaucrat Wickus Van De Merwe is charged with heading the ambitious operation– his father-in-law/boss dismisses the charge of nepotism– and leads his team into D-9 to notify it’s residents of their impending eviction, backed by battle-hardened paramilitary soldiers MNU contracted as the muscles of the mass move. Bumbling Wickus, while searching for contraband in one alien’s shack, stumbles upon a canister of liquid that he accidentally exposes himself to, making him ill and taking the story from it’s expected path.

The beginning of the film is presented as a documentary. We see various employees of MNU as well as people on the street react to the alien’s arrival and to Wickus’ actions that by the end of the movie we learn lead to an unexpected upheaval in the status quo. Traditional Hollywood film techniques are employed, interspersed occasionally with the aforementioned documentary interviews and security footage.

This film is co-writer/director Neill Blomkamp’s first feature– he’s only done commercials and music videos before, and it shows. Though the film attempts to explore dramatic themes such as apartheid, prejudice, mob mentality and political economy, it meanders too much to give the viewer a good picture of how they relate to the action-driven plot. A more experienced director could have done a better job incorporating the serious social commentary into the sci-fi frame. But producer Peter Jackson owed Blomkamp for the aborted Halo movie they intended to make together, and since Blomkamp is from South Africa his perspective on racism helps articulate that theme. Had this film been made by a Hollywood director it would most assuredly have lost all social commentary in favor of an all-out shoot-em-up with space battles and one-liners. More context for the aliens would have been nice, but again I think Blomkamp could not have handled more than what he did without making the movie a labor to watch. As it is, it has plenty of action, spectacular effects (all the aliens are computer-generated), a vague-but-pointed social commentary and a guarantee of a sequel. In all, a good movie to end the summer smash season on.

Birthdays and Karaoke Legends

It may surprise some of my readers that I am not the young, sprightly figure that I present myself to be. It surprises me that I even have readers, let alone that they think about me at all, but if you do, then surely you must consider me young of heart. But I am actually twenty nine years old, an age that frightens many unmarried maidens and unaccomplished lads alike. I am especially distinct in that at twenty nine I am both unmarried and unaccomplished. That’s completely my fault, like world hunger and racism. If I weren’t so lazy I’d be married (or civilly united) and accomplished, and everyone would have full bellies and no one would be afraid of the black guy in the bar parking lot at 2 AM (in most cases, it’s just Shay macking on a semi-sober sorostitute).

But the world is not perfect and I’m not either. So at twenty nine, on the verge of thirty, I have done none of the things a less lazy person would have on a list of things to accomplish before aging three decades. I don’t have such a list– I’m too lazy to write one. But I’m trying to overcome my own mental inertia. My complacency is on my mind daily, but more so because of my birthday. I try not to think of aging negatively– rationally, the older one is, the more experience and knowledge one has. Realistically, the older one is, the more regrets and mistakes one has. But those regrets and mistakes are important in that no matter how much I wish I had accomplished I wouldn’t be here today without all the bumps and potholes that have modified my path. Sure, where I am is not where I want to be, but at least it’s not where I’d hate to be. I’m not dead, a meth addict or working a dead end job I hate. I’m alive, a pot head and working a dead end job I can tolerate. So at least I’m better off than a corpse. They don’t celebrate birthdays. In that respect the dead are like Jehovah’s Witnesses.

At some point birthdays lost their specialness for me. They became ordinary days, just like Tuesdays, tax days, election days and holidays. I don’t celebrate any of those, though I of course observe them. That is to say I know each of these “special days” are actually special, more important than regular days, like Tuesdays, though I would argue that Tuesdays were, until recently, one of my favorite holidays. That was the day I went to O’Corley’s for the dynamic duo of bar games, trivia and karaoke. Trivia challenged my mind– it pitted my intellect against the intellects of my fellow bar patrons, giving me a realistic view of where I ranked on the IQ scale. Some nights I’d go home feeling thoroughly defeated, others pompously triumphant. Karaoke challenged my inhibitions. It pitted my self-consciousness against my love for music and self-deprecation– singing badly never bothers me when I’m drunk. But at the end of July the music died. Since I can remember Mad Jim has MC’d karaoke at O’Corleys, but he took his last waltz last week. Tuesdays will never be the same.

When I first moved to Valdosta oh-so-many years ago I wouldn’t be caught dead on stage at a bar. I’d have been mortified to do karaoke. I drank less then, too, and the two are not unrelated– I needed more than a little encouragement from my friends Jack, Jim and Jose. Actually, I exclusively drank vodka and cranberry juice back then. I convinced myself that cranberry juice was good for my kidneys, thus mitigating how bad vodka was for my liver. I don’t remember the first time I actually sang karaoke, but I remember the song– Love Shack by The B-52’s. I also remember Mad Jim distinctly– he’s hard to forget. The tall man with a striking white mane of hair and beard, if he were in robes instead of a top hat, could pass for Gandolf the Grey. Always the showman, always the congenial host, Mad Jim will always be the first name I think of when I think of karaoke. Even when I didn’t deserve it, even when I made a complete drunken ass of myself, he tolerated me. That’s more than I can say about my family. For eight years Jim made Tuesdays important enough to request that day off from work every week. But all good things must come to an end. Jim is retired so now Tuesdays are just like birthdays to me– not special, just another day.

As for my unaccomplished, unmarried, lazy, twenty nine year old self, I’m okay with everything I haven’t done since coming to Valdosta seven years ago. Maybe it’s fitting that karaoke is no longer a part of Tuesday-holidays for me. I’ll use the last year of my twenties to work on conquering my various vices, though to do so I’ll have to stop letting my subconscious bully me around. Easier said than done– I envy anyone with a peephole through that locked door.

Who You Gonna Call?

Twenty five years ago, New York was under an attack. Invaders from the afterlife appeared across the city, wreaking havoc on the unsuspecting citizenry. A call for help went out. Four men in jumpsuits answered. They were the Ghostbusters. A quarter of a century later the boys in gray are due for a comeback. Here’s a run down of the Ghostbusters franchise; where’s it’s been and where it’s going.


Ghostbusters
President Reagan was practicing voodoo economics. Princess Di was pregnant with Prince Harry. Lionel Richie and Stevie Wonder had hit singles. The year: 1984.

Directed and produced by Ivan Reitman (Meatballs, Stripes), with the screenplay written by Harold Ramis (Knocked Up, Orange County) and SNL alum Dan Aykroyd, Ghostbusters starred Ramis, Aykroyd, Bill Murray (Lost In Translation, Meatballs, Stripes), Sigourney Weaver (Aliens, Copycat), Annie Potts (TV's Designing Women), and Rick Moranis (Honey I Shrunk the Kids, Spaceballs).

University professors Dr. Peter Venkman (Murray), Dr. Raymond Stanz (Aykroyd) and Dr. Egon Spengler (Ramis) lose their research grant when their experiment methodology is proven to be bogus. The team decides to go into business for themselves and open a ghost removal service. After struggling to get on their feet, they are summoned to investigate the strange happenings in Dana Barrett's (Weaver) Central Park West apartment. What they discover is that all Manhattan is being besieged by ghosts and other worldly demons through a portal in her building. After the role of Winston Zeddmore was turned down by Eddie Murphy, among others, Ernie Hudson signed on to play fourth ghostbuster. Had Murphy accepted the role his character would have been introduced much earlier. As it was, Zeddmore’s character was introduced later in the film.

Ghostbusters (the animated series)
Following up on the success of the movie, the cartoon featured the Ghostbusters keeping NYC safe from demons, curses, spooks and every other off-the-wall weirdness known (and unknown) to mortal man. This time they had help from their old nemesis Slimer, a new arsenal of weapons, and an occasional assist from their faithful secretary Janine. J. Michael Straczynski, creator of Babylon 5, wrote many of the episodes. Lorenzo Music, most recognized as the voice of Garfield, provided the voice of Dr. Peter Vankman, the character played by Bill Murray in the films. Allegedly Murray didn’t like that his character sounded like a fat feline and asked to have Music replaced. Dave Coulier, Uncle Joey from Full House, took over the part, basically doing his impression of Bill Murray in Caddyshack. Ironically, after Lorenzo Music died Murray took over the role of Garfield, voicing a CGI version of the cat in the two live action movies. The series changed names and formats a few times, running from 1986 to 1991.

Ghostbusters II
George H. W. Bush was practicing trickle-down economics. Sarah Palin was pregnant with her first child,Track. Milli Vanilli and Bobby Brown had hit singles. The year: 1989.

Five years after the events of the first film, the Ghostbusters have been plagued by lawsuits and court orders, and their once-lucrative business is bankrupt. However, when Dana begins to have ghost problems again, the boys come out of retirement only to be promptly arrested. They discover that New York is once again headed for supernatural doom, with a river of ectoplasmic slime bubbling beneath the city and an ancient sorcerer attempting to possess Dana's baby. Can the Ghostbusters quell the negative emotions feeding the otherworldly threat and stop the world from being slimed?

Ghostbusters: The Video Game
Barack H. Obama is practicing recovery economics. Nicole Richie is pregnant with her second child. Blackeyed Peas and Beyoncé have hit singles. The year is 2009.

Video Games | Ghostbusters | Annie Potts Reveal Teaser

Arguably one of the most anticipated video game releases of the year, Atari's Ghostbusters: The Video Game breathed new life into the long-dormant franchise. Set in 1991, two years after the events of Ghostbusters II, the player takes on the role of a rookie ghostbuster as the team attempts, yet again, to save New York City from a cataclysmic supernatural event. The game is largely being treated as the third proper entry in the Ghostbusters canon as the film's original writers, Dan Aykroyd and Harold Ramis, have penned the game's script, an unusual move for a film-to-game adaptation. Much of the original cast have returned to lend their voices and likenesses, including the mercurial Bill Murray. The game also features the original movie score by the late Elmer Bernstein, the hit theme song by Ray Parker, Jr., and memorable foes from the classic movie, including the gluttonous green ghost Slimer and the mammoth Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man. It is available on the PC, Xbox 360, PlayStation 3, Nintendo Wii and Nintendo DS.

Ghostbusters III
Barack H. Obama will still be practicing recovery economics. I have no idea who will be pregnant, nor who will have hit singles. The year will be 2012.

Rumors of a third Ghostbusters film have been floating around seemingly forever, like an unwanted pesky poltergeist. Aykroyd almost got a third movie off the ground in the late '90s, but the project never happened and rumblings about a third film have been relatively quiet since then. That is until September 2008, when Harold Ramis confirmed Columbia Pictures had asked The Office writers Gene Stupnisky and Lee Eisenberg to pen a script for a potential Ghostbusters III.

According to an e-mail he sent to the Los Angeles Times, Ramis says much of the original cast, including Bill Murray, are eager to be involved in a new movie. The concept of Ghostbusters III would revolve around the old team in a mentor capacity and handing over the reins to a new, younger group. Ramis, in a recent web interview, asked for realistic expectation for the potential sequel:

We faced it before with Ghostbusters II. No matter how much people love [the first movie], the sequel will never live to their expectations. Is Spider-Man 3 as good as the first Spider-man? Probably not. Certainly the last Indiana Jones felt like a disaster– although I read online that Harrison Ford made $65 million from it. And I guess that is the reward for creating these cultural icons. But if were going to do it, it’s impossible to say it will be better than the first one. It’s not going to be like the rebooting of Batman– we’re not going to be wearing sculpted suits with pecs and abs built in to them. What made Ghostbusters funny was the low tech aspect of it… for us it will always be about characters [first], then secondarily it will be about the pseudoscience, the fake mythology.

Watch the Original Ghostbusters for free online, courtesy of crackle.com. Ghostbusters

Raising the Bar

On the short list of fun things to do in Valdosta drinking is perpetually near the top, along side getting stoned out of your mind or playing World of Warcraft– yep, those are pretty much your only options. Most of us choose to drink. But how many of us think of recycling in that inebriated state? Hell, I can’t even think of my address by the end of my nights at the bar, let alone remember to sort my empties. But recycling can positively impact our environment and our lives. So if you, like me, spend much of your life at the bar, you’ll agree that recycling at the bar makes perfect sense.

Consider how much trash one person makes at the bar. I consider myself an average drinker– I consume about four or five drinks each night I go out. Sometimes less, often more. If I drink five beers a night, going out twice a week I will accumulate about ten unrecycled bottles or cans. So using a rather conservative estimate of my drinking, each year I account for five hundred or so unrecycled containers. Multiply that by every obnoxious drunk you see and you’ll soon realize how big an impact recycling can make.

North Carolina is the first US state to implement such recycling policies. In 2005 they passed a measure requiring establishments with Alcoholic Beverage Control permits to recycle aluminum cans and glass bottles. "As the waitresses and bartenders close down at the end of the night, they'll separate the bottles. Real simple," said Erik Hodgeman, who manages a Raleigh bar. "Execution is going to be the most difficult thing – figuring out the ins and outs of how it's going to work – but overall I think it's a good idea."

Mark Center, a district supervisor for the state Division of Alcohol Law Enforcement, said recycling will be checked during routine, unannounced inspections. Failing to comply is a class one misdemeanor with a possible fine. Wilmington is one of the cities most affected by the law. The 60 or so downtown bars and restaurants go through about 2 million bottles of beer and 140,000 bottles of liquor a year, which officials said amounts to between 10 tons and 12 tons of glass recyclables every week.

In some places the students are leaders, organizing community recycling projects. The Students for Bar Recycling club at Kansas University is collecting glass bottles from local bars to be recycled. Similar groups in California and Oklahoma are looking to start the same program in their college towns.

While glass is 100 percent recyclable, it has less value when resold than other containers such as aluminum cans or plastic bottles. According to the RecycleNet Composite Index, aluminum cans are currently worth $600 per ton when recycled, while mixed colors of glass are worth $5 per ton. As a result, it’s more difficult to find glass recyclers. In Earth911’s recycling database, there are 42 percent more locations nationwide that accept aluminum cans than clear glass.

If you’d like to help get a recycling program started at your favorite watering hole, here are a few resources that will get you started.

Earth911.com Put in your zip code and this site will tell you where the nearest recycling center is. You can specify what you want to recycle (paper, aluminum cans, computers– even paint).

greenstudentU.com An up-to-date encyclopedia of green terms, a guide to eco-friendly living for the college student, and links to resources to start recycling programs. It also posts news on all things green.

Partnership4recycling.org This is the official site of the North Carolina Division of Pollution Prevention and Environmental Assistance, the agency responsible for enforcing the state’s new recycling law. A good site for researching your potential recycling project. Check out the “best Practices” section for a guide to creating a successful recycling plan at your bar or restaurant. There are even case studies of bars in NC with successful recycling programs.

Fire It Up

I hear a lot about ‘personal freedoms.’ I hear that ‘the government’ is always trying to take them away. But I don’t hear much about ‘personal responsibilities.’ Is the government always trying to give them to us? It seems so. A new law passed in June aims to regulate the tobacco industry. Cousin to “Big Oil” and stepson to “Big Automotive” (but no relation to Biggie Smalls, AKA the Notorious B.I.G., R.I.P.), “Big Tobacco” has perhaps the largest lobby in Washington, and I’m not talking about the size of their foyer. According to Wikipedia, an infallible source, the tobacco lobby spends over $100,000 every day Congress is in session. Aside from direct contributions, the lobbyists ply politicians with dinner, drinks and dessert. They coerce Congressmen with caviar and champagne. They buy them things is the point I’m trying to make here. But despite their best efforts, these lobbyists have lost a large battle in the war on tobacco. So smoke ’em if you got ’em, because sooner than you think, you’ll notice a change.

The first change you’ll likely notice won’t be the packaging. The price of a pack has already gone up a great deal. In April the federal per pack tax grew to $1.01. That tax will undoubtedly rise, in part to pay for the new Center for Tobacco Products, a division of the FDA. No doubt some tax money will go to help defray the burden tobacco users place on the American healthcare system, especially if we move toward universal coverage. Canada has a universal healthcare plan for it’s citizens, A pack of smokes cost just under ten bucks there. Their thinking is, if people use a product that, when used correctly, results in death, they should pay their own hospital bills, albeit in the form of a hefty tax. Makes sense to me– let the 45 million Americans who do smoke pay for their own lung replacements. Just so long as alcoholics like me can still get free treatment for our cirrhosis of the liver, and so long as a gallon of grain liquor still costs less than a carton of Camels.

But it’s easy for me to be so nonchalant about the tax because I don’t smoke. Well, I did, but not regular cigarettes. I smoked kreteks. Kreteks are made of Indonesian tobaccco and cloves. Invented in the 1880s by a left-handed Java native with a penchant for puns ( I made up two of those descriptors), clove cigarettes were originally intended to treat asthma. The inventor smoked them to cure his chest pain, which the cigarettes did, but before he could patent his creation he died of lung cancer. In Indonesia nine out of ten smokers fire up kreteks, and five out of five dentists agree clove-smokers have pleasant-smelling mouths. It’s as if they just ate a holiday ham.

I still remember the first time I smelled the distinctive scent of a kretek. I was seventeen, so young, dumb, and full of… potential. Justin Hill (you’ve never met him), Patrick Spurlock (you may have met him) and I (you’ve definitely met him) went to Thomasville to see a movie. You have to understand that we lived in Moultrie, so driving thirty minutes to Thomasville just to see a movie is understandable. Standing outside the movie theater, Patrick lit up a Djarum Black. The first thing I noticed was the package– it was larger and squarer than a regular cigarette box, and it was black– how goth. The cigarette itself was black as well– how emo. But black is very slimming, so if you have fat hands consider holding one as an affectation. I noticed
the crackle it made as he pulled his first lung full. Kretek, it tuns out, is onomatopoetic– it describes the sound the cigarette makes.

Years later I would come across cloves again, this time deciding to try them. I think I was at O’Corleys and a friend was smoking Djarums. I bummed one. I was instantly hooked. Finding cloves was tough– most stores have never heard of clove cigarettes. A few independent (read: Indian-owned) stores had them, but they cost a bit more than regular smokes. After alI, they are imported. I soon discovered the rainbow of flavors cloves offered. Besides the Black version, Djarum also has, among others, cherry and vanilla varieties. Recently they’ve become so popular that even Flash Foods carriers them.

But after a short but passionate love affair, I gave up smoking, aside from the occasional clove at the bar. I don’t buy them anymore, only bum them. But the new law will ban them. They’re considered ‘flavored cigarettes’ and in October they’ll be outlawed. The rationale is that candy and fruit flavored cancer sticks are too seductive to kids. As if Mike’s Hard Lemonade isn’t. So I guess my tradition of passing out fruit-flavored White Owls to trick-or-treaters is over. And no more bobbing for cherry Djarums.

Here’s a heads up on the changes you’ll see in the coming year.
* Sept. 20, 2009: Artificial flavors other than menthol banned from cigarettes.
* March 19, 2010: FDA will publish rules and new enforcement plans on prevention of marketing and sales to youth.
* June 22, 2010: FDA will have the authority to issue standards for tobacco products to promote public health that could eliminate or reduce certain ingredients.
* June 22, 2010: Descriptors such as "light" and "mild" prohibited in advertising and labeling of existing cigarette brands.
* June 22, 2010: Prohibition on vending machine sales, self-service displays and free samples of cigarettes and smokeless products except in adult-only facilities.
* June 22, 2010: Advertising in print media and point-of-sale displays must be black-and-white text only.
* June 22, 2010: Larger, stronger warnings required on smokeless tobacco products.
* June 11, 2011: FDA must publish regulations requiring larger, graphic warning labels on cigarette packages; the regulations take effect 15 months later.

Critical Mass Valdosta 2009

Swordplay and Teen Angst: NBC's Merlin

Some stories never get old and are often reimagined. Even though I’ve seen dozens of versions of the Camelot story (Disney’s Sword in the Stone or NBC’s 1998 miniseries come to mind), the modern story telling in 2009’s ‘Merlin’ brings a fresh perspective to the story, giving the Arthurian legend the WB Smallville treatment, complete with buff teen heroes and vivacious damsels. NBC lured key demographics by premiering new Harry Potter previews during the show’s Sunday, June 21st debut. The ploy worked.

Filmed at a gorgeous Napoleon-commissioned Medieval style castle in France, Merlin is a retelling of the classic Camelot tale with updates that speak to a younger audience. Prince Arthur is not yet the noble king of legend. As a teen his is the arrogant quarterback character, the spoiled Prince who bullies the peasants. In short, he’s Lex Luthor to Merlin’s Clark Kent. However, Merlin is tasked by the last living dragon to shepherd Arthur into manhood, helping to form him into the once and future king. Merlin is reticent to accept the task but the dragon relentlessly affirms that helping Arthur become a noble king is Merlin’s destiny. Only the dragon and court physician Gaius know Merlin’s secret– that he has special powers. Merlin, like Clark Kent and Harry Potter when away from Hogwart’s, must keep his powers secret because King Uthur banned magic in the kingdom twenty years prior. Uther slew all the dragons as well, save one, which he inexplicably chained in a cavern beneath the castle, a perfect place from which to dispense cryptic advice to novice Merlin.

The series is a British import that originally aired last year on the BBC. Newcomers Colin Morgan, Bradley James, Katie McGrath and Angel Coulby provide the teen cast constituents. Anthony Head plays King Uther. Buffy fans will remember Head as Niles, Buffy’s mentor in the Joss Whedon series. John Hurt provides the voice of the dragon. He will reprise his role of Mr. Ollivander the wand merchant in ‘Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows.’

The thirteen episode series explores many of the same themes as ‘Smallville’ and Harry Potter: teen angst, girl troubles, competition with others and the constant threat of death. Having seen only the first two episodes which NBC aired back-to-back, I am filled with hope that the series will be as great as it can be. Even if it’s only good, that’s better than most shows on air today. In a summer utterly bereft of interesting television, this update of Arthurian lore is a welcome addition. Catch new episodes Sundays through the summer on NBC or anytime at NBC.com

City Gardening- June 24, 2009

The showers that deluged us in the spring have clearly subsided but the intermittent thunderstorms that speckle Summer afternoons have successfully supplanted them. Unfortunately heat indexes over one hundred tend to wilt unwatered gardens. Depending on occasional showers to do my job for me has met with withered results.

I’m completely to blame, not Mother Nature. During the spring I could forget to water my garden for a day or two with little consequence because it rained daily. But now the rain comes once in a blue moon and is not substantial enough to alleviate the wilting heat of the beginning of an oppressive Georgia in July. I thought I was too busy to spend the five minutes necessary to sustain my green dependants. I didn’t water them at all over the Father’s Day weekend. Two days of neglect have rendered my city garden on the verge of collapse. Luckily plants are more resilient than man. Though they are in intensive care now, with daily watering they may all spring fully back to life. None of the peppers have produced yet and my neglect hit them hardest of all, but I hold hope for the jalepeños.

The potted plants took the greatest punishment. Luckily most of the veggies in the ground survived the two 115° days with little damage. My corn formed kernels on stubby two foot stalks– needless to say they were underwatered, but being a fast grower corn requires substantial watering when grown in a garden box.

So far my attempts at city gardening have met with significant setbacks but I remain unperturbed. After all, this is my first attempt at replicating the gardens I grew up with, those idyllic days when we had tomatoes, onions, blueberries, pears, black berries, potatoes, peas and beans in a backyard garden on a lot out in the country. With a busy Valdosta lifestyle a six by six box in front of my apartment is the best I can do. Even if my efforts meet with less than moderate success this year I will at least know better what not to do next year– namely, not to neglect my garden!

The Wolfman's Lament

Hombre Lobo: 12 Songs of Desire
The Eels (Vagrant Records, 2009)

Never let it be said that facial hair can’t inspire music. If ZZ Top went clean-shaved no doubt they’d feel silly singing the same songs. Mark Oliver Everett, known on stage as the band Eels’, is back, sporting a ZZ Top beard and a new wolf-man persona. After a five year absence from the studio, Hombre Lobo: 12 Songs of Desire adopts the persona of a lusty, swaggering werewolf, carrying a cane and prowling the night.

"I was working on some other music," Everett says in a recent NPR interview, "and I looked in the mirror one morning and I saw this werewolf staring back at me. And I thought, 'You know, this beard doesn't really suit the music I'm working on currently. I should cut it off.' And then, at the last minute, it occurred to me, 'Well, why don't I just make some music that suits the beard, and I'll keep it.' "

Where previous works showcased Everett’s softer side, the wolfman character allows him to project a cockiness unheard in much of his material. Album opener "Prizefighter" and the single "Fresh Blood" epitomize this sentiment. In many ways, he says, the album marks a tonal shift away from the intimate songs of 2004's Blinking Lights and Other Revelations, but makes up for that with its palpable desire and raw animality.

"It occurred to me that something that seems to be kind of lacking in so-called indie rock these days is an element of sex and danger," Everett says. "And I just thought, 'Isn't that where the term rock 'n' roll came from?' Let's howl after some girls now and then.”



It is only when he drops the act and reveals his insecurities that the wolfman becomes a real person. "The Look You Give That Guy" shows the pale flesh and human heart underneath the sharp fangs and slick fur of the big bad wolf ."I look at the songs as kind of sales pitches from this character who's trying to convince the object of his desire that he's the man," he adds. "And he takes different approaches, like he kind of loses his cool and lets his passions take over. And other times, he takes a more tender approach.”

Thirteen years later, Eels sounds as energetic as ever. A confidence that only comes with maturity paired with Everett’s stripped-down sound shows that werewolves, besides being predators, are essentially outsiders looking for love and acceptance.

Watch more AOL Music videos on AOL Video

City Gardening

Now that the typhoon season has passed and all the torrential afternoons are behind us I hope my garden finally gets it’s act together and gets a job, err, I mean, grows some veggies. A few months ago I adopted a small garden in front of my apartment. After one failed attempt- how was I to know that plants need regular attention?- my second venture has met with moderate success. I’ve harvested three tomatoes and a paltry sum of beans. But I am not deterred: one benefit, perhaps the only benefit, of Georgia’s weather is the long growing season.

The cucumbers and squash are showing such potential. They weathered the weeks of waterlogging resiliently and even bloomed in spite of it. Unfortunately, I am not smarter than an insect. Some unknown pest has chewed most of the orange blossoms off my various gourds, gunning them down before their prime. A few bright blooms remain– they’ll produce fruit, even if I have to pitch a tent garden side to personally defend them from their diminutive attackers.

None of the many watermelon patches I’ve tried to grow have done diddly squat. By planting them in the back yard, which has limited sunlight, instead of in the garden proper I knew I was handicapping them. Unfortunately vines tend to takeover their area, kind of like large families at the beach. If I had enough room, I would give the squash, cucumbers and watermelons their own hills, but space being limited as it is I’ll make do. A city garden is not perfect, but it’s better than nothing. As for the beans I’ve harvested, some I gave to a friend and some I put in a pork stew. Another handful will be ready in a few weeks. Anyone want to trade for a cow?

Tigers Love Pepper. They Hate Cinnamon.

Every summer at least one comedy enters into pop culture so quickly and completely that everyone, even your nitty-gritty grandma, quotes it. Everyone does at least one Borat impersonation saying “Very nice. How much?” or Ricky Bobby saying “Shake and Bake”. Everyone knows one liners from The Forty Year Old Virgin and any Seth Rogan/ Judd Apatow flick. Unless Sasha Baron Cohen’s Bruno trumps it, The Hangover is the comedy to quote this season.

Writing partners– does that sound gay?– Co-writers Jon Lucas and Scott Moore penned five films before this feature, the first in 2001. By comparison, since 2001 Judd Apatow has written ninety five screenplays, seven Broadway musicals and narrated two children’s books. In some cases quality counts over quantity.

One key ingredient to a quotable comedy is the correct cast. Justin Bartha plays Doug the groom-to-be. I try not to hold having been in Gigli against Bartha. Ed Helms is Doug’s friend Stu, a dentist who plans to get engaged to his girlfriend after three years.. Why is it that former Daily Show correspondents always get nerd roles? Bradley Cooper takes the handsome, wise cracking leading man torch from Bea Arthur’s cold dead hands. Heather Graham, in typically type casting, plays a stripper, this time without rollerskates. For a zany sidekick, who better than off kilter comedian Zack Galafianakis. He’ll be the most quoted because he gets all the outrageous lines.

The bro’s take Doug to Vegas for his bachelor party. It starts off as usual, binge drinking and naked ladies. But in a ‘Dude, Where’s My Car?’ twist they wake up the next morning with no memory of the night before. Doug is missing, there’s a tiger in the bathroom and a baby in the closet. They begin to follow a trail of elaborate clues to find their missing friend and figure out what happened the night before. I can relate– I’m such an alcoholic that I have to check my bank account the next day to discover how much I spent at the bar, but I never woke to a tiger in my house. A cougar, once, yes, but no tigers.

Someone should call the cops on Mike Tyson, because he stole every scene he was in. There is nothing more precious than listening to that girly-voiced psychopath sing “In the Air Tonight” by Phil Collins. Other notable cameos include Daily Show correspondent Rob Riggle as a cop and Ken Jeong (King Argotron in 2008’s ‘Role Models’) as a Chinese mafia boss, not to be confused with the Chopstick Mafia.

Jeffrey Tambor has the first good one-liner of the film, as Father-In-Law to be Sid Garner: Remember what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. Except for herpes. That shit'll come back with you.

Another good one is Zack Galafianakis as Alan. Stu is talking about giving his grandmother’s wedding band to a stripper:
Stu: She’s wearing my grandmother’s Holocaust ring.
Alan: I didn’t know they gave out rings at the Holocaust.

Strippers, mobsters, tigers, babies, an homage to Rain Man– this bachelor party has everything fun about Vegas. It’s a great start to a funny summer. You’ll be quoting it til ‘Bruno’ and ‘Year One’ come out. Rated R, 96 minutes.

Childhood Cartoons: The Movie

As a true sign that originality is dead, Hollywood is repackaging my favorite childhood cartoons into live action movies. My demographic, passively misogynistic males between the ages of eighteen and thirty five, eat up nostalgia like its morning-after pills at a brothel– we just fix ourselves a big bowl of it, top it with some 2 % milk and eat nostalgia for breakfast. Maybe we’re disillusioned with reality– Generation X has witnessed tremendous social unrest– race riots after Rodney King’s verdict, the whole O.J. ordeal (both times), Scrubs being cancelled, then sold and uncancelled, then cancelled again but picked up for another season without Zack Braff, begging the question, “What’s the point in that?”. We’ve seen so much social upheaval that it’s natural for us to think fondly of our childhoods. But nostalgia, like uncontrolled flatulence, gets worse the older you get. Like accidental farting, I enjoy seeing cherished memories from my childhood reimagined as cinematic megahits.

I’ve seen not less than eleventy-four films based on cartoons I grew up with. I’ll not mention the lousy ones, except to say that ‘TMNT’, a 2007 CG-remake of a live action 1990 film, was more gratuitous than Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan in a beaver-flashing contest. The first good cartoon-to-live-action remake was Scooby Doo, a clever take on the classic stoner show. Scooby is not technically from my childhood– the show originated decades earlier. After forty years, twelve television series and dozens of direct-to-video movies the franchise is still alive. Even though he has been collecting social security since the Reagan Administration, Casey Kasem still does Scooby’s voice. (I hope I didn’t jinx old Casey. I’d feel terrible if he died soon. I wouldn’t care if he died later, so long as it’s at least a few issues from now.)

Really the first good live action movie based on a cartoon from the eighties, other than ‘Masters of the Universe’, is ‘Transformers’. It opened the flood gates and lured so many pasty white boys to the theaters that a sequel was in production before filming ended. It only grossed $700 Million, a measly sum compared to it’s Hasbro toy line, the true origin of the franchise, which has earned eighty gajillion dollars since coming to the states from Japan in 1984.

The next Hasbro toy from the eighties to premier as a live action movie will be 'G. I. Joe'. I hope Samuel L. Jackson is in it and I hope he says, “I’m tired of these motherf!cking cobras on this motherf!cking tank!” Or jeep, or chopper or whatever vehicle they let him drive. Also, I hope they include Sgt. Slaughter and that Hulk Hogan body slams him in the big fight scene.

I’d like to make movies based on my favorite eighties cartoons. I’d make the coolest, most ‘BA' movie ever, because I’m so awesome and all. But audiences are jaded like me– again, because of the whole O.J. thing and 9/11. So another movie based on an eighties cartoon isn’t gonna wow anyone. I'll combine a few shows into one amalgamated movie.

I'd take the Thundercats. Remember, their planet is exploding (Superman, anyone?) so they have to escape on a spaceship to find a new planet. Let’s say they land on Earth, and discover a set of five rings, each with a different colored stone. Lion-O, Pantro, Cheetarah, Tygra and Snarf each put on the rings which imbue them with the powers of earth, fire, wind, water and (wait for it) heart. As their powers combine, five mighty lion robots awaken– one deep below the Earth’s surface, one inside a volcano, one in a cloud or something… each of them representing a different element. With their mighty battle robot lions, the Thundercats, powered by the Planeteer rings, form ‘Captain Thunder Planet Voltron Cat Force’! Their battle cry is “Captain Thunder Planet Vultron Cats Force Gooooo!” That’ll make a billion dollars, easy. Oh, yeah casting! For heroic Lion-O it’s gotta be Tom Cruise. In the pilot episode of Captain Planet, he provided the voice of Captain, what’s his name, Planet. Vin Diesel would play the dark-skinned bald mechanic Pantro– he really wouldn’t need any make up. Tygra would be played best by Zac Effron, just to get the teenage girls (and forty year old men) to watch. As for Cheetarah, I would say Halle Barry except she botched up her Catwoman performance. I’m seriously considering taking her off the Christmas card list. So maybe Demi Moore as Cheetarah, even though she’s actually a cougar, or else RuPaul. For Snarf, that’s easy: Pauly Shore. No other choice. I’d write the screenplay contingent on his playing Snarf. Plus I owe him a favor. He scored me some blow one night that I made up.

‘The Smurfs’ is long overdue for a live action version. You know Will Farrell would sign up, since the entire film he’d be in nothing but a white diaper, white booties, a white hat and blue body paint. Farrell has a near-nudity clause in his contract– every film he does has to have him in an almost-nude scene. That’s why it’s tough for him to do serious dramas– his part in Apollo 13, for example, as the nearly-nude NASA rocket scientist nearly cost the movie it’s Nickelodeon Kid’s Choice Award. Luckily Jack Black’s cameo cinched it. Since Anna Nicole Smith is dead, Jessica Simpson would make a great Smurfette, also known as the village whore. Oh come on, she was the only chick! She smurfed everyone, except Vanity Smurf, but she even gave him hand-smurfs. Vanity and Brainy Smurf sure did spend a lot of time playing “Chess” together. I wonder how often Brainy captured the queen. So maybe in my movie I’ll work that angle, a little Smurfback Mountain. That would be smurftastic.

As long as I’m making blockbuster movies, I might as well throw a sequel into the mix. I’d wrote a screenplay for ‘Rocky VI: Adrian’s Revenge’. Yes, I know she died in a previous film, but that’s the gag– Rocky buries her on sacred Indian land and she rises from the dead. Now, Rocky must rescue her soul from hell while he trains zombie Adrian for a dead celebrity death match against two of the Golden Girls. In the big fight scene, zombie Estelle Getty and zombie Bea Arthur have zombie Adrian on the ropes. Rocky can’t watch, he can’t bear to see his wife’s zombified body take so much damage. Then, just when you think she’s down for the count, zombie Don Knotts comes to her rescue! They become tag-team dead celebrity death match champions! They get sponsorship deals with all sorts of satanic companies, like Mephisto Motor Corp., Devil-O's Cereal and Wal-Mart. Did I mention this would be a comedy directed by Ron Howard?

New Fox Cartoon Needs Night Class in Comedy

I never was a 'King of the Hill' fan. Nothing against it– I watched it when nothing better was on and it was funny, but not my type of humor. I like 'Frasier', if that helps. No wonder I didn’t notice that FOX has canceled the show, the second longest-running animated show in America. D’oh! 'The Simpsons' are first. Hank Hill fans can watch creator Mike Judge’s new cartoon on ABC this Fall. In the meantime, ‘Arrested Development’ is back on FOX. The critically-acclaimed– no, critically dry-humped show was canceled by some network exec, likely the same cokehead who axed ‘Futurama’, ‘Family Guy’ and ‘Gumbel & Gumbel’. But enough fans complained that FOX had to return the show to the air. Except now instead of ‘Arrested Development’ they’re calling it ‘Sit Down, Shut Up’ and instead of it being about the Bluthe family it’s about a school. And it’s now a cartoon, all the characters are different and it’s no longer funny. But other than that, exactly like ‘Arrested Development’.

‘Sit Down, Shut Up’ was conceived by ‘Arrested Development’ creator Mitch Hurwitz. Based on a live action Australian ‘The Office’ knock-off, Hurwitz eventually changed to an animated format– another example of outsourcing the jobs of American actors to third-world animators. Mitch recruited writers from ‘The Simpsons’ and ‘Two and a Half Men’, which I am told is some sort of sitcom and not, as I had supposed, about two police detectives, one of whom is a conjoined twin.

Jason Bateman returns as the leading man. Will Arnett and Henry “The Fonz” Winkler, who worked with Hurwitz and Bateman on ‘Arrested Development’ reunite to provide voices, adding Kenan Thompson, Will Forte and Cheri Oteri, all from Saturday Night Live, to round out the cast. Oh! The guy who does Spongebob Squarepant’s voice is on the show too!

However, from the beginning the show fails to deliver on all that potential. The pilot episode introduces the characters, replete with double entendre names– Principal Sue Sezno and a German teacher named Mr. Deutschebog, just to name a few. But that’s it– nothing funny happens. Subsequent episodes do the same, build up hope for a great pay off of funny, but never deliver. Watching this show leaves me with comedy blue balls. Luckily it’s part of FOX’s ‘Animation Domination Sunday’ lineup, so Seth McFarlane can give me some release. I won’t give up on ‘Sit Down, Shut Up’ just yet– FOX plans to air the full season before deciding the show’s fate. If a coked-out executive can be that patient with a show that delivers cheap, easy, high-school level jokes, I can too.

Grizzly Bear comes home to Veckatimest

Off the coast of Massachusetts, between Cape Cod and Martha’s Vineyard lies the tiny island of Veckatimest. Owned by the Forbes Family (as in quadrillionaire Steve Forbes and former presidential candidate John Forbes Kerry), the tiny island is home to, well, nothing. It’s a completely uninhabited speck in the Elizabeth Islands. It also happens to share it’s name with the new Grizzly Bear album. Veckatimest (the album) is not tiny and definitely not nothing. At times stripped down, at others fully orchestrated, Grizzly Bear’s third album offers not just scenes of sound, but full landscapes.

Ed Droste began the band in his Brooklyn apartment. His homespun D.I.Y. effort took on new life with the help of multi-instrumentalist Chris Taylor. Add guitarist/pianist/songwriter Daniel Rossen and Christopher Bear on drums and you have Grizzly Bear. Their 2004 debut, Horn of Plenty, began to explore the layering and variety that Veckatimest perfects. Rolling Stone magazine wrote of the first album that "The pure atmospheric power of the songs is more than enough to hypnotize." Their sophomore effort, Yellow House, is their first as a quartet and to feature material written by Rossen. Yellow House is named for Droste's mother's house where it was recorded. The New York Times called it one of the top albums of 2006.


Before listening to the album I took Benjo’s advice and listened to the band’s National Public Radio Studio Session performance, hosted by David Garland. It aired live on the radio and web, but I was at work and only got to listen to the stream later. (Go to NPRmusic.org to hear the one-hour bare-bones performance.)

Everything, even the album art, is narrative. Each song is a mini journey to the next, all set in the big picture of the album. As such, there is an easy flow to the work. The responsibility of album cohesion falls squarely on Chris Taylor’s shoulders. In as much as he produced the record, he admits many things that make the album so ‘comfortable’ are out of his control. “The acoustics in a home add familiarity to the sound,” says Taylor. “Like singing in your bathroom, or playing guitar in your living room- it makes for a comfortable recording process.” Taylor talks about using distance to achieve layers, saying “Bigness, smallness, closeness, distance- someone whispering in your ear versus someone talking further away feels different.”

Incorporating incidental sounds, like a girl’s giggle and an adult’s subsequent ‘shoosh’ as well as the sound of logs crackling in a Cape Cod cabin’s fireplace– all these layers enrich the sound scape of Veckatimest. Expanding upon that theme, the band recorded this album in several sessions at various locations, eventually spending three weeks at The Glen Tonche Estate in the Catskills for final mastering.

Many tracks also feature arrangements by Nico Muhly, a twenty-eight year old contemporary Western classical composer from the grain belt. For some tracks Muhly uses the Brooklyn Youth Chorus. Listen for them giggling in ‘I Live With You.’ Ed considers it an Easter egg– “Dan (Rossen) had those samples, he was like ‘ I really want to put those in there.’ They had an amazing way of sweetening things and at the same time totally scaring me.”

It’s not at all scary, though. Says Droste, “It’s just got a few poppier songs, a few darker songs a few stripped-down tracks, and a few really orchestrated lush ones. More dynamics, essentially.”

The work has longevity– songs you don’t get sick of quickly. Each listen reveals more of the layering that you’d barely notice on first listen. It stays interesting because even though there’s a lot to get to know, each track is still easy to recognize. Veckatimest is at once surprising and familiar, a hard feat to master for an album that encompasses a world of sound.


Famous fans of Grizzly Bear include band Band of Horses, who covered a GB song for there 2007 EP Friend. After GB opened for Radiohead in a summer 2008 tour guitarist Jonny Greenwood confessed on stage that they were his ‘favorite band.’ I’m not famous or talented in any notable way, but I find myself so enamored with the band that I’m contemplating how to get to the Saturday, June 13th show at The Tabernacle in Atlanta. Show starts at eight, bring a date. Oh, did I mention TV on the Radio is also playing that gig? Or, just see them both along with a hundred other bands you’ll love at Bonnaroo. The Manchester, Tennessee show runs from the 11th through the 14th of June.

Webphiles, find the band’s 2007 cover of JoJo’s single "Too Little Too Late." The band performed it on Droste's twenty-ninth birthday and on the NPR show I mentioned earlier. It’s proof that even Disney teen idol clone songs can sound haunting if rendered properly. Freebie! Go to Grizzly-bear.net to download 'Cheerleader,' track five on Veckatimest.

The Boys of Summer (Nothing Gay)

John Gay, self-professed nerd here. I’ve admitted as much before– I’m a trivia-playing, karaoke-singing, Lord-of-the-Rings-quoting nerd. Suffice it to say I never played sports as a child. In high school I lettered in debate. I know nothing about sports. During trivia at O’Corley’s I depend on my team mates to cover that subject. I cover obscure eighties television shows and nineties one-hit wonders.

Watching me play Madden ’09 is like watching a quadruple amputee play pin the tail on the donkey, both sad and hilarious. I don’t understand the plays or the positions. I don’t know a nickel zone from a nickel back, a blitz from a wide receiver, though that last one sounds a bit gay. I wouldn’t know how to handle a blitz from a wide receiver or a tight end for that matter. That's not mentioning the complex scoring system nor the extravagant end zone rituals.

Marathons I get– running the fastest to the finish line. But that’s not a sport, its exercise. If running is a sport then so are jumping jacks.

There is one sport I do understand– baseball. When I was little we had country cable– also known as broadcast television. Where are my manners? I forgot that most of you are too young to know that archaic term. Broadcast television is what we watched before cable, satellite and the internet. People used to put antenna arrays on their roofs to receive radio transmissions. In the country only four or five stations came in, usually CBS, FOX, NBC, PBS and occasionally ABC or UPN. Summer nights when I was a kid were spent watching baseball on one of these stations.

Finally I discovered a sport I could understand. The rules are so simply elegant– hit the ball, run the bases, score a point. Every position is named logically– the pitcher pitches, the catcher catches, the pinch hitter walks up and down the bullpen pinching the hitters. They don’t like it but they respect that he’s doing his job. The only position whose name throws me a little is short stop. Do I have to stop, if only briefly, as I pass this player? Do I wave to the short stop, say hello, or simply nod? Am I obliged to engage him in conversation as I round first? “Lovely weather we’re having!”

I even like baseball movies. Other than Varsity Blues I’ve never seen a sports movie I liked. No, not Rudy. Not even Radio, and that had Cuba Gooding Junior going full tard. But I haven’t seen a bad baseball movie yet. Other than Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves and Waterworld only one Kevin Costner movie does not feel like a case of douche– Field of Dreams. The secret to making this movie an classic? Three words: James Earl Jones. Put him in the flick and it’s instant gravy. Tom Selleck’s character in Mr. Baseball has a great one-liner– “Got any naked pictures of your wife? Wanna see some?”

To me the funniest is Baseketball. Sorry, Bull Durham. Baseketball comes from Matt Stone and Trey Parker of Team America/ South Park fame. If you haven’t seen any of their live action work this is a great one to start with, if only for the nude locker room scene with Matt and Trey. Don’t freak out, prudes, you don’t see anything. It’s what you don’t see that’s hilarious.

I don’t mean to imply that I’ll be watching baseball by choice. I just realize that in the bar it will be on and since I at least understand it I can appreciate it more as a sport, as a cultural phenomenon and as a metaphor for consensual sex. You know, rounding third… sliding into home. SAFE! Try that with football.

Green Day: making anti-Bush albums since 2004

Note to Billy Joe: if you’re going to write a political album, make sure there’s an appropriate political environment. If you don’t, you may end up making “21st Century Breakdown.” It portrays America as a country of disillusioned cynics railing against censorship, corruption and manipulation.

Sound familiar? It’s what the band told us about their 2004 anti-Bush album American Idiot. The difference? Back then, we were disillusioned cynics railing against censorship, corruption and manipulation. Remember, in 2004 it was the top of the fourth inning in Bush’s eight-year ballgame. Now, we are the most hopeful we have been in generations. Not even a near economic depression nor a foreign war on two fronts can rain out our game. Green Day's storm clouds don’t reflect that hopefulness we expect for a band touted as the anthem writers of change. The album’s point of view is more infuriating when contrasted to how brilliant the songs are– hefty melodies, an emotional range in Billy Joe’s voice that challenge the riffs to crest in Who-like proportions.

Had the album come out before the 2008 election it might have found ears hungry to hears it’s rebellious message. Maybe years from now the world will sync up with its pessimistic landscape. Either way, the music will stand on its own regardless of the propaganda.

CD Review- "Beware" by Bonnie Prince Billy

Bonnie Prince Billy’s latest album “Beware” should have been titled “Lonesome Crowded West,” but Modest Mouse beat singer-songwriter Will Oldham to that one. The set epitomizes a romanticized view of American folk music. Upon listening to the album, unbidden images of sun-bleached cow skulls and tumbleweeds come to mind, not just because of Oldham’s twangy voice, nor the use of country-western instruments– the mandolin, a wood block, sparse drums, a meanding steel guitar and a slow fiddle (sometimes called a violin). Because each instrument is playing skeletal scales each note takes on more importance. Instead of building a wall of sound by layering an orchestra of music, Oldham highlights the emotional heights his voice evokes by turning up the echo effect on most of the album. Female backing vocals, a bluegrass staple, have the same effect. Not every track has the minimalist feel– “You Don’t Love Me” even adds a hefty brass section to the mix, livens up the drum and manages to turn once-haunting steel guitar riffs into peppy, clappable verses.

Some tracks, like “Beware Your Only Friend” and “I Don’t Belong to Anyone” could be played from horseback. The love-lorn “Heart’s Arm’s” could be a camp fire tribute to a still-burning torch. This is my favorite track. Oldham’s lyrics do their part to emphasize the heart-on-sleeve effect:

Why don't you write me anymore?
Have you found something as good just next door?
I open this awful machine to nothing
where once your intimacies came pounding.

Not a single song on the thirteen track album is over five minutes long– the shortest is just over two minutes long. This is a good thing– the songs build quickly, the music swells, crests and then wraps up. There are no long intro or outros, just soulful singing and masterful instrumentation.

playlist for May 6, 2009