just got back from a matinee screening of the filth and the fury. it's a documentary about the sex pistols, shot back in their heyday. it's interesting, to say the least.

went bowling last night. matt and i traded wins. my game's a little rusty. maybe i shouldn't talk so much shit.

adam at kempa.com has updated. it appears that, like matt, he got to catch the cure on this most current tour. i'd have to say once and for all…i've never really been a fan. crucify me or whatever, but i've never really been into them.

more later if i think of something.

as promised, today's post will concern more of my thoughts from my recent trip to St. Louis.

driving through the farmland of Missouri and Illinois, I was struck by the beauty of the land and the green fields of new corn as they passed by at 70+ mph. since I rarely get the opportunity to be a passenger, I spent the majority of the trip back to Kentucky silently watching the scenery.

damn. my words are completely failing me at this point. I wanted to write about the fields and trees, and the beauty and profundity of it all, but it wasn't coming out right. sometimes, you just have to watch, listen, feel, and understand, but you can't say anything–you can't describe it. go out, drive, watch the land, and don't say a word.

ok. now, after my hours of communing with nature, developing the mother of all passenger's sunburns, and taking a short nap, Paul and I got off talking about all kinds of stuff. for hours we talked about cops, criminals, abuse of power, use of force, government corruption, capitalism, communism, socialism, marxism, and the political future of america. I think we started talking about unmarked police cars and ended up with america evolving into its necessary and inevitable socialist structure.
      then for some reason, we talked briefly about the weather, the probability that it's going to be a scorching summer with a possible drought, and I started feeling really xerophobic and basically fearing not only for my life but for the future of the entire human race.
      i saw this future where all the vegetation on the planet died off, the atmosphere filling with noxious fumes and the human race slowly dying out. Paul slowly talked me away from my fear by insisting that we humans are too crafty to allow our atmosphere to wither away. I only hope he's right.
      to top it all off, when we got home I phoned brian to tell him about the trip and to make sure x:13 was still in one piece, and one of the first things he tells me is that a large solar flare is heading for earth and will cause some "atmospheric disturbance." considering my terror from earlier in the day (which i still hadn't fully shaken despite Paul's reassurance), this was the last thing I wanted to hear. brian seemed a bit surprised when I made a comment about this solar flare burning off all our atmosphere and annihilating the human race.

fortunately (or not, depending on your point of view) we're still here, and still seem to have adequate oxygen for at least a few days of regular breathing. after that, we'll see.

in tomorrow's post, I'll briefly review the Fight Club DVD, and probably go off on something totally uninteresting

well i spent most of last night (and i do mean most) with matt and paul watching the fight club dvd i bought yesterday. that thing is so stocked full of extras. you should buy it now.

i'm still plugging away at the transmission3000 redesign. i'm slower than snail shit, but it'll see the light of day someday soon…

not much else to ramble about. nobody gives a fuck about what i have to say anyway…

sorry for the lack of updates here on my side, I intended to do one last night, but ended up taking about three or four hours sifting through my email from the past three days.

I've got quite a bit to talk about, so I'll probably break it down over a few posts… give you something to come back for…

the cure are truly an awesome band. I am not their biggest fan, I only own a couple of their albums, and those have only been purchased in the past year; but Paul loves them and offered me a chance to go see them with him, so I took it. I had a great time.

there were lots of beautiful women running around, which enhances any concert going experience (for me, at least), and of course, there were also lots of rather repulsive members of both sexes running around as well.

I can't understand how 5'4" 250lb women can believe they look good in tight fitting dresses, or midriff tops and skirts. it is totally beyond me. I personally don't feel that I would look that great running around with my belly and chest exposed, and I'm not even really overweight.

another thing I don't get is spending a bunch of money on a concert for a band that you don't really like, listen to, or even understand; then showing up completely wasted to the point where you spend the majority of the concert either with your head between your knees or slumped over passed out in a chair. I CAN understand getting a little drunk and having a little fun, but if I wanted to get wasted and throw up, I could do that at home and get an equivalent musical experience from my CD player.

it almost ruined the show for me. we had been waiting for the doors to open for two hours or more (we got there a bit early, and had nowhere else to go, being in a strange city…), then finally we get in, find our seats, and wait another hour for the show to start. 20 minutes before the band takes the stage, the stands begin to fill up, and a group of people take the seats in front of ours. they're laughing, drinking their beers, having a good time. they break out a joint and pass it around. the band takes the stage and get started on the first song. I look down and the little eddie vedder lookalike in front of me has his head between his knees, puking his guts out. We're barely three minutes into the first song, and already the stench of puke is wafting up to my nose. I feel sorrier for the people in the next row up, they were in splatter range…

well that's enough for tonight.

in tomorrow's update:
corn fields, car talk, & fear of worldwide devastation

Five rules for eternal misery:
(1) Always try to exhort others to look upon you favorably.
(2) Make lots of assumptions about situations and be sure to
treat these assumptions as though they are reality.
(3) Then treat each new situation as though it's a crisis.
(4) Live in the past and future only (become obsessed with
how much better things might have been or how much worse
things might become).
(5) Occasionally stomp on yourself for being so stupid as to
follow the first four rules.

a morning of coffee and miles davis… what more can you ask for?

adam added transmission3000 to the mp3 links over at kempa.com.

the father of scully's baby is… not sebastian.

hopefully i'll have someting about music later…

okay…i'm going to try not to be "mr. life is dogshit" tonight. after the day i had, it can only get better…hopefully i get this new job. then at least i won't be bitching about money. i'll just find new shit to bitch about.

like: why the fuck can't i write comic books? that's a damn fine job if i've ever heard of one. if azzarello and bendis can do it, count me in.

it's official…at the drive-in is now on grand royal. i know you've probably already heard this, but i find it very interesting. i'm eager to see how this pans out.

ray park is sad that he won't be darth maul again. aren't we all?

see? apply myself a little bit, and i don't seem like such a negative bastard. i wish everything were this easy…

sebastian keeps name-dropping us over there at signal drench. you'd think we were friends or some shit. go read his rambling review of the new bluetip ep.

i hardly ever win a free coke. i think this game is rigged.

i sometimes think of this site being proportional to me being a monkey in a cage. i find it increasingly hard to not sit here in safety, throwing my own shit at you all. isn't that what anyone with a public forum does? they may go about it in newer, more interesting ways, but in the end, fecal matter is still flying. reality is governed, in the end, by opinion. i'm up against a wall. realizing that every move we make, every word we say (or type, as the case may be), is inevitably second-guessed and compared against others possible perception of us. this, i've unfortunately realized, holds true for myself as well as most everyone else. there is no such thing as "truth in media." everything that meets our eyes and ears has passed through someone else's opinion gland (read: asshole), ultimately removing all hopes of pure fact.

this rant was brought to you in part by my own bitter self-loathing. it's easy to dislike yourself. the hardest part is making a change…

yes, i've deliberately stolen matt's bolding of the intro line…he's out of town, so he can't do squat about it.

if you're a mac fan, you chould check out as the apple turns. it's a consistently fun read, and news to boot…

i'm happy now that i've set up inbox filters to get rid of all that viagra crap…i'm only 24, and in my opinion, still quite the virile dude.

kempa.com has been updated more recently. as has signal drench. go check 'em out.

more later.

i've been in a bit of a depression, lately. sorry if it comes across here. things just aren't going anywhere near how i would like for them to…i guess they never do.

on a lighter note…how do you get your own cool internet explorer icon like blogger has? i've become fascinated by this for some unexplainable reason… if you have the answer to this question, let me know.

matt'll be gone to see the cure in st. louis for the greater part of the week, so i'll be sitting around holding the fort down by my lonesome. it'll give me time to finish up this application for a new job that i've been slowly working on over the past week. i need to make more money. it may be the root of all evil, but damn is it nice to have. maybe someday i'll be able to buy a new car…

i'm off to do absolutely jack shit, so have a good night.