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Monday, January 19, 2009 "Perhaps it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging darts of segregation to say, 'Wait.'..but..when you are forever fighting a degenerating sense of 'nobodiness'..then you will understand why we find it difficult to wait. There comes a time when the cup of endurance runs over, and men are no longer willing to be plunged into the abyss of despair." - Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. On the eve of one of the most important events in the history of the United States, Dr. King's words, so long echoing the despair of the last eight (or is it 300+?) years, seem like a hopeful cry from out of the wilderness. Yet the cynic in me speaks its small, still voice. The cynic that has learned to hold all politicians at an arm's length. The cynic that has been bitten relentlessly by Kerry's lukewarm campaign, by Elliot Spitzer and John Edwards' downfalls. The cynic who aches to see the incoming President set new precedents for excellence, yet would tell me "I told you so," if he failed. That small, still voice that knows all too well, though in a far different and less immediate way, the "degenerating sense of 'nobodiness'" that the recent years have wrought. I imagine that having been of voting age only from the 2000 election onward and experiencing nothing but the Bush administration is akin to having had the same experience under Nixon - only without the satisfying, demeaning ending for the lead villain. This actor has been strutting and fretting in a tragedy, not a comedy. I hope the idealist in me triumphs. A lot is at stake. As a friend of mine put it, "he's got to be a Jackie Robinson." As the unfair double standard of achievement continues to be applied in our society, Obama does, indeed, have to go in aiming for heights that the average president has not enjoyed. The inauguration is an incredibly historic and amazing thing to witness. The moment it's done, the clock starts ticking. Please, soon-to-be Mr. President. We're counting on you. posted by J. Neas | 1/19/2009 10:05:00 PM (0) comments Sunday, January 18, 2009 np: Joy Division - Unknown Pleasures Pitchfork.tv has a weekly feature where you can watch some documentary streaming on their site for one week. This week is Grant Gee's eponymous Joy Division documentary. It's kind of nice to watch documentaries like this online where you can start and stop as you wish. I started watching it last night and am up to part 5 - it's broken into roughly ten minute segments. I also have been finally watching The Prisoner - thanks to the passing last week of the show's main actor, Patrick McGoohan. AMC.com has all 17 episodes of the series streaming where you can watch it. I read Dashiell Hammett's The Maltese Falcon this past week. I've never seen the film, though it's something I plan to remedy. I'm a big fan of Raymond Chandler's writing and this book fit right into that - one of those things you have to constantly remind yourself is not cliché because it actually came first. The hard-boiled detective - slappin' dames around and fast-talking their way out of all sort of conundrums. There's a hard misogyny to nearly all of it, but it's a pretty engrossing read. Sam Spade doesn't seem to be a character who really trusts anyone outside of himself. At least, if he does, it isn't apparent in the way he interacts with anyone else in the book. It's bizarre to see a character so misogynistic and yet incredibly wounded as well. Spade was a blueprint in many ways for Chandler's Philip Marlowe, an infinitely more likeable character, even if he does retain a lot of Spade's misanthropy. It was hard to figure out exactly what was going on at times with Spade in The Maltese Falcon. He was honest and up front with nearly no one in the book - then again he wasn't alone in that fact. He seems to use the emotions of one character in particular in order to entrap them - even if it is debatable that she is using the same ploy on him. This is only novel Spade appears in as a character - there are a few scattered short stories as well that I'll have to pick up. It'd be fascinating to have a sort of modernist revision of Spade's character - in the form of examining how he became the sort of character he is. And seeing the realistic results of his misogyny, not just the cooing 'man I love to hate' response that most of the women in the book give. Something for you people to consider if you're an aspiring novelist looking for an idea. posted by J. Neas | 1/18/2009 12:46:00 PM (0) comments My stomach feels odd. The dread hollow, not of hunger, but of paranoia. I don't think it's supposed to feel this way. Answer the questions, please. I'd feel so much better if you would. It might make me feel like I am important in some way. Right now, I'm not sure I do. posted by J. Neas | 1/18/2009 01:04:00 AM (0) comments Saturday, January 10, 2009  np: The Rosebuds - "Nice Fox"So, the second of my fearsome twosome has gone to join the first. Earlier this week I noticed that Potter wasn't being his usual don't-touch-me-ever,-stupid-human self. Neither was he eating or drinking very much. I noticed that he seemed to have an infection in one of his ears. So I took him inside to try and clean some of it out. The mere fact that I was able to touch and attempt to clean his ears without him running away, biting or clawing me should attest to how sick he was. I decided I needed to take him to the vet the next day after school. I took him outside in a towel to try and keep him warm in his cage and went to bed. I went to check on him the following morning and found him barely moving at all. He had collapsed in one corner of his cage and was dull-eyed and miserable. I called work to let them know I'd be late (the blessing of first block planning) and took him to the vet. I dropped him off and not long after I reached school, received a call from the doctor. Potter had an ear mite infection and also hypothermia. The doctor guessed that the ear mites had infected his middle ear, knocking him off balance (as it would any creature) and making him not want to eat or drink. Thus, out on an unusually cold Carolina evening, resistance worn down from not eating, he succumbed to hypothermia. They warmed him and gave him fluids throughout the day. That evening, the doctor called to let me know that Potter had responded somewhat, but not really. He said that if the damage had been something that was reversible that they would've seen more reaction from him. So we made the decision to put him to sleep. I gathered him from the vet this morning and laid him to rest beside Usagi in the garden. Now I have an empty hutch and cage in the back yard. I have a supply of rabbit droppings for the spring garden - my last supply. I have an old metal milk container, quarter-full of rabbit food. I have the memories of my beautiful bunnies. I miss them both. The Rosebuds song up at the top is off their latest album Life Like. The song is about a dead fox that they found in their yard, which they gave a burial, singing the song's refrain as they did. It's a beautiful song and something I sang to myself today as I buried Potter. My dad laid lettuce leaves in the hole where we buried him. Not the same as the tulip that I buried Usagi with, but appropriate all the same. I've thought a lot about symbolism, naturally, over the years. All of the things that have remained from my relationship with Charlie have either gone away or transmogrified. The house, so specific a thing from our time, has become wholly mine in the ways I have made it represent me. The rabbits, the pets we bought together, are now both dead and buried in the yard. Even the most recent song I've written, one I'm terribly proud of, by the way, is a reflection of the settling of my thoughts about the relationship. And now, because of recent events, though sad as it is and I wish it hadn't happened, Potter's death is wholly appropriate. Perhaps it's pretentious and egocentric to look into the tea leaves of day-to-day existence and read into them portents of your own life. But much in the same way that there is comfort in believing the human race to be the chosen life form of an omniscient and omnipotent God, there is comfort in believing that the events of your life make sense in the way that a grand and intertwining novel makes sense. All of them spokes that lead to a central theme and grand ending that is somewhere over the pages of the horizon. posted by J. Neas | 1/10/2009 05:00:00 PM (0) comments Friday, November 21, 2008 np: Kathleen Edwards - "Good Things" A few weeks ago I commented to someone from outside my fair state that the Piedmont area of North Carolina, the place where I reside, typically doesn't see any snow until the new year - and often not until February or so. Just always seems to happen later. Imagine my surprise when I wake up this morning to snow covering the ground. I heard on the news yesterday that there was a chance of flurries - but I paid it no heed. Good things come when you're not looking, so Kathleen Edwards has said. After a long and frustrating week at work, a blissfully rejuvenating night talking the possibilities of local media (video/blog, radio, bands, photographers, venues, etc.) for our awesome local music scene and awaking to a two-hour delay at work was just what I needed. Good things come when you're not looking. posted by J. Neas | 11/21/2008 07:24:00 AM (1) comments Tuesday, November 11, 2008 np: Crooked Fingers - "Modern Dislocation" I'm back to including a song/album I'm listening to at the beginning of posts. Thus the Now Playing (np) denotation at the top. I'm also going to make it so you can listen to the song since in one way or another, it channels the mood of the post. Or at least that's the goal. Plus, it'll be good stuff. Just click on the song title to listen. Enjoy. -- I went out looking for a trench coat today, to no avail. Mostly because despite looking and seeing that there was a Goodwill in Burlington, and on Church Street no less, I was unable to find the store when I went. Instead I went further into Burlington than I've ever felt the need or desire to go. I stayed on Church Street and just drove. This was upon exiting my dentist's office. A cool fall day, bright and sunny, had turned into a rapidly darkening evening. These are some of my favorite days of autumn - the trees hanging on to the last half of their colored charges, grey clouds obliterating the sunset while outlined in its hues. Nothing felt rushed, and thus, when I failed to see the Goodwill, I simply kept driving. I ended up at a Salvation Army that I happened upon, but there were no coats to be had. I kept driving anyway, finally turning around when I entered the city of Haw River. On my way back, at a stoplight, I looked to my right and saw a restaurant. An aged neon sign perched atop the building, advertising that this was the Western Charcoal Steak House. In the rapidly greying light of afternoon, the still dim light of the neon glowed warmly, beckoning. I wished I had my camera with me as it reminded me an awful lot of my friend Sara's photo that currently resides as my desktop wallpaper. Not having to work today, when I was ready to go to bed last night, I didn't feel the urge to force myself to sleep so readily. So I looked for something to read. My bookshelves are crowded with books I've yet to read, but like most things, I have to really feel the desire to experience it. Otherwise I feel like I'm not ready for it yet and may miss something. I picked up a book of short stories by George Singleton, an author from South Carolina, whose excellent short story collection The Half-Mammals of Dixie I had read a few years ago. These People Are Us actually pre-dates that other book, and I have had it on my shelf for some time. In the opening story, I stumbled across a couple of passages I enjoyed. Removed from the context of the story, they probably lose some of their power, but I thought I would share them anyway if only to give you a taste of Singleton's writing and encourage you to pick up some of his work. Both of these are from the short story "Remember Why We're Here." "I looked over at the reverend and knew he didn't sell the cabin because of sick relatives and too many memories. I knew, too, that I'd met destitute men outside of bars down in Greenville, and offered them a ride to the shelter that Faith Ministries operated, but no one took me up because they didn't like having to feign guilt, humility, and obedience for a plate of mashed potatoes and green beans. More than once I'd given a man two dollars and said, 'Don't lie to me about what you'll spend it on. I don't really care. Booze or BLT - it doesn't make a difference.' -- "My wife and I sat there quiet until pure darkness set in, until we couldn't make out bats flitting overhead. We didn't mention money or morality, cause and effect, or luck. We didn't niggle each other to remember a time when our marriage wasn't so secure. I talked myself out of thinking about the times when I insisted on eating nothing but sardines and Slim Jims just to prove how poor I'd grown up.posted by J. Neas | 11/11/2008 06:22:00 PM (0) comments Sunday, October 19, 2008 First, Powell's endorsement of Obama: I feel that it was important to hear someone of Powell's stature (to conservatives) comment on the Muslim tripe (i.e. rumors that Obama is a Muslim) that kept emerging in this election. Powell says: "Well, the correct answer is, he's a Christian. He's always been a Christian. But the really right answer is - what if he is? Is there something wrong with being a Muslim in this country? And the answer is 'no, that's not America.' Is there something wrong with some seven year-old Muslim-American kid thinking they can grow up to be president? Yet, I have heard senior members of my own party drop this suggestion.." Powell goes on to relate that he feels particularly strongly about this because of a picture he saw of the mother of a serviceman killed in Iraq, kneeling over her son's grave in Arlington, and above all the listings of service medals and duties on his tombstone was the crescent and star - symbols of the Muslim faith. It's a moving illustration of the religious bigotry that has inhabited our country post-9/11 and an eloquent stand against it. Powell's endorsement isn't important because of who he is to my end of the political spectrum. My goodwill towards him evaporated in light of his collusion with the Bush administration on the lead-up to the Iraq invasion, despite having knowledge of the flimsiness of the evidence of WMDs. But Powell is still a highly respected figurehead in conservative communities and his endorsement of Obama is mighty from that perspective. Unlike Starbuck, who would not live to be able to amend for not taking Ahab to task for his reckless ambition, Powell here had a chance to at least staunch the similarly misguided and erratic plans of John McCain. It doesn't make up for things, but it doesn't add to the pile, either. -- Pakistani Cowboy 6 slices bacon 1 cup chopped onion 2 28-oz. cans baked beans 2 medium baking apples, peeled, cored and cut into bite-size pieces 1/2 cup ketchup 1/4 cup brown sugar 4 tsp. coarse-grain brown mustard 4 tsp. curry powder 2 tsp. Worcestershire sauce In skillet, cook bacon until crisp. Remove bacon, reserving 2 tablespoons of drippings. Drain and crumble bacon. Cook onion in drippings until tender, but not browned. Combine all ingredients except bacon and bake at 350 degrees for one hour. Before serving, crumble bacon over beans. posted by J. Neas | 10/19/2008 10:30:00 PM (0) comments I went and watched the new Oliver Stone film, W., tonight with various teacher friends. Despite the fact that it became another in an increasing list of films with fantastic songs in the trailer that don't show up in the movie itself (Pineapple Express and "Paper Planes"; W. and "Once in a Lifetime"), I was all in all interested in it. The rather lackluster reviews had lowered my expectations and I think that helped. Josh Brolin plays W. Bush at a halfway point somewhere between honest portrayal of an undoubtedly complex human and a caricature. I was worried that the film would be more to the latter than the former and it at least seemed to show some restraint, other than a purposeful recontexualizing of some of Bush's most famous verbal flubs for pure comedic/dramatic(?) effect. I don't doubt that there is a lot going on inside the man who has come to represent, for me, the most hideous parts of the last eight years in American history. I do doubt that this film really gets to any substantive analysis of its subject. As the Onion AV Club said in its review, "Stone paddles down the giant river of Bush's life without exploring any of the tributaries; he passes by two or three dozen better movies along the way." The film's most interesting scenes come in the meetings with Bush and his cohorts (here - then Secretary of State Colin Powell, Dick Cheney, Condoleeza Rice, Paul Wolfwitz, George Tenet, Donald Rumsfeld and Karl Rove) in the lead up to the Iraq invasion. Especially good is Powell's attempt to restrain the building attempt to invade. That he is ultimately overpowered and convinced to go along positions him as a Starbuck-type character - a man who knows better the morality of what his leader is proposing, but whose devotion to duty ultimately forces him to tamp down his own feelings and be swept along to bitter results. He is a sympathetic character, but only to the extent that you agree with his feelings - understanding his decision to step back involves a different set of analyzation. -- I will be, again, trying to write more here. As even my music writing has moved almost exclusively from my radio blog over to Aquarium Drunkard (with the exception of the podcast write up and occasional Friday column), I feel the need to do personal, for-me writing again. Or maybe that's just tonight and the reflective mood I'm in following this film. We'll see. posted by J. Neas | 10/19/2008 02:25:00 AM (1) comments Tuesday, April 08, 2008  This is a picture from a little over two years ago of my fearsome twosome, Potter (grey, in the rear) and Usagi (black, in the front). They are sweet bunnies, though Potter tends to not like to be picked up much. This naturally led Usagi to be my favorite. He would patiently let me hold him and stroke his ears and generally was a pretty peaceable and fat bunny. I came home last Friday and found Usagi dead in their cage out back of the house. I'm not sure exactly what happened, but I am still terribly sad about it. I spent a good bit of Friday evening snuffling and tearing up about it. I buried him in a portion of the garden with a rock as a headstone to mark it. I also put one of the recently blooming tulips in between his front paws when I laid him down. It all seems fairly sentimental and stuff, but these guys were the first pets I ever bought AND cared for myself. So it made it all the harder to have one of them die. I will miss you, Usa-chan. Very much. posted by J. Neas | 4/08/2008 12:51:00 AM (2) comments Tuesday, November 13, 2007 i don't get shivers when i read stuff much any more - and here i'm talking about shivers of the good variety. the kind you get when you read something that you really identify with or truly feel you understand. but oh, my goodness how i felt like an ice age had entered the room when i started into just the preface of jim walsh's the replacements - all over but the shouting: an oral history. and yes, this is indeed about the band i trot out whenever i am 'forced' to answer the question "who's your favorite band?" walsh is a contemporary, both geographically and historically, of the replacements and his preface is a moving recollection of why we geeks fall in love with art in the first place. the multiple experiences, those dizzying heights. i could write pages and pages about my experiences with the replacements' work, but one thing that almost always urges a wry smirk or two out of people is relating your attempts to share your devotion with others. you can't force art on people - they really have to come to it on their own. people who have tried to get me to listen to bands over the years will note, with some frustration, my obstinate refusal to really hear stuff if it's being forced upon me. i have to feel like i came to it myself, not had it thrust onto me. and this isn't a question of not wanting to give people credit - i whole heartedly do that*. a girl i dated for two weeks and i were hanging out at her house. her friend was there and i made them both listen to pleased to meet me. it went over like a led zeppelin. they put on something by rob zombie immediately afterward. now you know why this lasted two weeks. another ex-gf and i decided to select a song for our relationship. 'our song,' you know. since we couldn't decide collectively, she went with one song ("oh, you've got the darkest eyes.."), i went with the replacements' "they're blind." ("to the brown-eyed beholder..") we both had brown eyes. the end. no one i've ever dated has really latched onto the replacements, nor would i expect them to. in a way, they're my band. i'm always eager to share my love of a band with others - especially if they are fans as well. but sometimes, it feels good to crawl up inside of something that you, and only you, are invested in. obviously you're not the only person in the world who knows it, but maybe the only one in your world. i went through all of high school never knowing another replacements fan. i also would amuse myself by playing "fuck school" from their stink EP loudly, windows rolled down, as i would leave high school in the afternoons. sometimes, things are better inside. * - for sleater-kinney and, very much after your gallant attempt, mary lou lord, thank you, jenny. for the cash brothers, thank you, michael. for the posies, thank you, mad dog. for cat stevens; a tolerance and appreciation for the grateful dead; through bludgeoning, repeated playings of hejira, joni mitchell, and 10,000 maniacs, thank you, rachel. for bob dylan, thank you, andrew and jeremy. for tom waits, thank you, sylvia and jeremy. for the chameleons and the veils, thank you, beth. for iris dement, thank you, mom. posted by J. Neas | 11/13/2007 11:57:00 PM (4) comments Monday, October 08, 2007 "The Modern Dance (for Lester)" Peter Laughner is dead, so Lester said (Bangs 217) and now so is Lester too, and this all happened way before I even knew who either was. I had a book by Robert Palmer; it taught me about Pere Ubu and Brynn, she bought me a book of Lester's work. Only Brynn is still alive. Does it take a history book to give someone a legacy - a legacy that matters greatly turns the tides and sets the sails? I was thinking Kristen Pfaff is dead, Josh Clayton-Felt is too. What does it take to be remembered? I don't think I really know. Does a poem have a resonance greater than a written page? Shannon Hoon is dead; Johnny, Joey, Dee Dee too. How long does an echo last? Peter Laughner is dead, so Lester said and now so is Lester too. Where we go we take them with us. There is nothing else to do. Bangs, Lester. "Peter Laughner." Psychotic Reactions and Carburetor Dung - The Work of a Legendary Critic: Rock 'N' Roll as Literature and Literature as Rock 'N' Roll. Ed. Griel Marcus. New York, NY: Vintage, 1987. 217-223. posted by J. Neas | 10/08/2007 11:39:00 AM (0) comments Sunday, September 09, 2007 hmm. perhaps..books? i could write about reading. since i'm trying to do more of it. and i stopped by empire books today to splurge a bit. or maybe i'm just really trying to give myself a reason to buy some more bookshelves. i finally bought a copy of michael crichton's eaters of the dead. it seemed appropriate given that it's that time that comes but twice a year: teaching beowulf. it's also one of the only 'early' crichton books (read: pre-airframe) that i hadn't read. of course the last time i read one of his books was early high school. but i'm looking forward to it none the less. i've chosen to take it on first, of the seven books i bought, so i'll report on it as i go. i bought a copy of peaches: the very best of the stranglers. the stranglers are a bizarre band, but they put together some pretty raucous material early on. "no more heroes" is a fantastic song. even their later work is smattered with good songs every so often. i am still a panthers fan. as such, i will be watching them play st. louis on the morrow. i'm very excited that it's football season again. ahhh. i went to tonight's concert for greensboro*fest 2007. it was at square one down on glenwood and featured the bronzed chorus, the tiny meteors and dawn chorus. all three were quite good - it was my first time seeing the first two. tiny meteors reminded me in turns of hot snakes and bits of guided by voices, the replacements..some other things i couldn't put my fingers on. i want to start a songwriters circle amongst some indie-minded people here in greensboro. mostly because i think it would give me a reason to start songwriting again, something i'd very much like to do. i still play a lot of my old stuff, but i haven't written a new song in..i don't know when. here's to hoping i'll keep up with this blog. my radio show blog is doing fantastic, but this blog seems to have lost its focus and purpose. i don't want to shut it down - it's my oldest and holds some dear memories. so, let's find a purpose. posted by J. Neas | 9/09/2007 03:00:00 AM (3) comments Sunday, May 06, 2007 posted by J. Neas | 5/06/2007 06:24:00 PM (0) comments Saturday, March 10, 2007 I kinda wanted it to be Virginia Tech, if only to prove that, damnit, the Heels can beat them this year. But I'll take a rematch with NC State also. C'mon, Heels. I know, really, it doesn't mean that much. You're already dancing. But first ACC title in 9 years would be pretty sweet. Growing up in this part of the country, this time of year, it's infectious. There's no escaping it and why would you want to? March Madness is divine. Update: Seems the old adage about the improbability of traversing the afterlife in a red canoe is true. God didn't make the sky Carolina Blue for no reason. Congrats, Heels! Now...how 'bout a #1 seed in the big dance? posted by J. Neas | 3/10/2007 07:01:00 PM (1) comments Thursday, February 15, 2007 There are several reasons I love this video: 1) The Replacements at an awards show of some kind? This is obviously somewhere in 1989 (since they're pushing "Talent Show," a single from Don't Tell a Soul). 2) No one cares. People don't really seem to be moving or excited despite the fact that the 'Mats performance is pretty energetic and quite good. Pretty par for the course around this time in their career - this is also around the time of their ill-fated stint opening for Tom Petty. Every bootleg I've heard from this period, "Talent Show" is blistering and always really well performed. 3) The censors felt the need to edit out the line "I'm feelin' good from the pills I took." And you can tell Westerberg finds it funny. So at the end, when he steps up to the mic to sing "It's too late to turn back, here we go," it becomes "It's too late to take pills, here we go." And he then repeats that line two more times. 4) Matt Dillon is obviously a fan of the Replacements. He whistles fer cryin' out loud. Glad someone there had taste. 5) YouTube makes me happy when they have stuff like this. ----- At the risk of over-YouTubing, this video has been played on my computer so many times in the last 24 hours, it's not even funny. The New York Dolls are still making great music. The song is riotous and a hell of a lot of fun and the video is a hoot. In comments, let's play 'Spot the Evolution Debate References.' Also, play 'Spot the Weird Visual Cameos' in the video. posted by J. Neas | 2/15/2007 10:41:00 PM (0) comments |
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