We have a pact, you and I. I write down what song I had in my head when I woke up in the morning. And, maybe, why.
You click on "What's in your waking ear?" and tell me what's in your head right now. We discover new music and maybe learn something about how our minds work. Yeah?
So I was reading Pitchfork's
Mike Jones review, which I thought was an incredibly fair and accurate take on an album I really really like, and I check the byline and I have an incredibly sexist moment where I go, "Whoa, it's a girl!
" So I Google her.
In addition to Mike Jones, Julianne Shepherd likes Patrick Dempsey.
Chelle and Schmubb's wife, Bri-ness, are always going on about Patrick Dempsey. I find this strangely comforting. There's this whole legion of cool women out there who like this one guy. It's like Ethan Hawke a decade ago. If the woman liked Ethan Hawke then she would probably hang out with you.
Speaking of hanging out with women, I just booked our hotel
for our honeymoon in Buenos Aires. It's the Paris of South America, no?
Neal Pollack, the only articulate Suns fan I can find online, on the San Antonio Spurs: "They're like one of those cartoon supervillains that absorb the powers of whomever they're fighting."
But he's also right when he says, on his site
, that Brent Barry won't go for 21 again. More importantly, Shawn Marion won't produce this line again:
Name Min FG 3Pt FT Off Reb Ast TO Stl Blk PF Pts
S. Marion 38 1-6 0-1 1-2 2 9 1 1 1 0 4 3
And, in keeping with the mythology that gives the Desert City its name, Joe Johnson shall riseth from the ashes in Game 3 and soar anew!
DVDs. I buy them for the same reason I buy books. To peruse once and then to put on a shelf so that people can see what products I've perused. In other words, to make people think I'm cool. Otherwise I'd just rent, because it's cheaper.
So. I want all of these.
(By the way, "99 Problems" with Jay-Z commentary? What more could he say? He's doing commentary in the song!
"You're crazy for this one, Rick!")
I've been browsing around the reviews of Revenge of the Sith
. Anthony Lane's critique
in the New Yorker
is uncharacteristically juvenile, funny and probably too mean. But the one that really got me was Peter Travers' review
in Rolling Stone
I've long suspected Travers of being a shill, and his 2002 review
of Attack of the Clones
was the straw that broke my camel's back. Sure, he noted accurately that the dialogue and acting and direction were awful, but read the review, and you'll come away with the feeling that this movie is actually pretty good.
In the new review, Travers calls Sith
mostly crap and calls Clones
"atrocious." So maybe he's no longer selling out. Maybe he got a new boss or something. But he's certainly inconsistent. I remember being shocked by the number of stars Travers gave Clones
. On rollingstone.com, it shows only two stars. If anybody out there has a copy of the print edition of the review, let me know. I'd bet my ass it was at least three stars at the time.
I can't believe I actually wrote three paragraphs on that. Sorry. Travers really bugs me.
Dallas, I need your help. I once had a conversation in a bar with someone, I don't remember who, but someone who mentioned attending a party that featured a breakdancing monkey. Does anybody know where I can hire this monkey? Google isn't helping. I promise to treat him right, in accordance with all anti-cruelty laws.
Somewhere, there are parents giving this book to their kids. It is my fond hope that those kids keep those books on their shelves, rediscover them someday, open them, and laugh their asses off. With Ludacris playing on the oldies station in the background.
The Austin City Limits Festival
sked is up, and it's better than I thought it would be. I had heard about most of the headliners ahead of time, and they're underwhelming, though Wilco and Lyle Lovett were surprises to me.
Now comes the decision -- shell out the money to see a few bands I haven't seen and a bunch I've seen but enjoyed and wouldn't mind seeing again, or screw it?