Ghost in the Shell (2017) | Movie Review!

Logan | Movie Review | No Spoilers!

Logan is the third Wolverine spinoff movie in the X-Men films series.  It stars Hugh Jackman, Patrick Stewart, Dafne Keen and Boyd Holbrook.  It's got a lot of face punching with fist knives.

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My Review For Magnificent Seven!

Trailer reaction for DOG EAT DOG! Enjoy!

Jar Jar Stinks

George Lucas completely sucked the mystique out of the Jedi when he decided that they are genetically predisposed to being in tune with the force.  This was the moment Star Wars became Star Trek.  I love both, but Star Wars has always been about myth and legend, whereas Star Trek retains an air of philosophy and theoretical science.  They are different subgenres when looked at under a high powered tricorer.

Star Wars: The Phantom Menace was a complete debacle and nearly unwatchble.  Episodes I,II & III have no where near the gravitas of the original movies.  What went wrong?  It seems that the consensus is that George Lucas has fallen asleep on his stack of fluffy, cushy cash.  I suppose when you already have a billion dollars in your back pocket, you're not as hungry.  These movies were a tremendous boon to the Lucas bank account after his finances were cut down after a messy divorce.  

It was the perfect opportunity for Lucas to introduce new themes, and create new characters to be enamored with.  Instead we got more death star conspiracy, and Jar Jar Binks.  

Pop Culture

Most people are quick to discard pop music as devoid of all merit. One can say catchy tunes are frivolous, but it's not easy to craft a song that will make the masses smile.  If it were, everyone would do it and make a zillion dollars. 


Sure mediocre artists become popular with hit songs that are slick and polished sounding, but that's because the real talent is working behind the scenes.  There are an army of gifted songwriters, musicians, engineers and producers making sure that what you hear will stick in your head on repeat until you want to bite your own ears off.  It's usually the person performing the pop music who is vapid. (e.g. Britney Spears) 

Even though she's a bonehead, I am able to recognize that the songwriting doesn't totally suck. There is something going on, when it comes to the structure and execution of her music.  People gravitate to her songs because of the well crafted design, whether they know it or not.  Britney, thankfully, has nothing to do with that aspect of her career.  She's too busy staying famous for all the wrong reasons.  


There often isn't enough credit given to music that is readily accessible.  I say to you, dear readers, that quality and mass appeal are mutually exclusive.  You can have one without the other, and yes, sometimes you can even have both!


The Beatles were the poppiest of pop bands back in the day, yet they always had a level of quality that they upheld.  I'm not sure anyone would argue that a song like Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen, is anything but a musical triumph.  That very song was able to climb the charts 2 times in a span of 15 years because of its ability to capture the listener. 

Frank Zappa never enjoyed popular success, but churned out quality while staying under the radar.  Artists like Pitbull release dog shit by the heap, yet remain at the top of the charts.    

I am a fan of good music, regardless of genre.  I will always give a song a chance, no matter how popular or obscure.  There are some songs that slay me on an emotional level, and there are some songs that challenge my intellect lyrically/musically.  There will always be songs that are just there for fun and amusement.

Having been a professional musician for some time now, I've run into this issue on the creative side.  I like to write every song that comes to mind. The process is like fishing, some days you cast out your line and get nothing.  Other days, you get a few nibbles, you start to reel it in, but then it falls off your line. Then there are those days where you catch a whopper, despite a huge drawn out fight.


Once you've caught this musical fish, you say to yourself "do I want to record this song and put it out for people to purchase and support my career?"  This is an important question for every artist to ask if you want to continue making music for a living.  All bands have to make concessions at some point and realize that it's not an entirely self indulgent endeavor.  If you've done good, you've created a song that you like, and think others will like too.  


I often have arguments with musicians who say that they aren't in a band to make music that sells.  To them I say, have fun with your hobby band, because the longer you remain an elitist, the less likely you'll gather an audience.  Music is an inclusive artform.  It is the immediate, visceral translation of a sound into emotion, and vice versa.  Anything that is published must first go through a process of editing.  Unless you're Jack Kerouac - whom you are not.


Being a music snob must be exhausting.  The equivalent would be like eating filet mignon every single night.  Sure it's totally yummers, but every now and then, it's nice to have In 'N' Out Burger.

I Ain't Mad At Alien³

I frequently have obsessions with subjects of arbitrary interest. The spells usually last a fortnight. For instance, last year, all I could think about for 2 solid weeks was the band Journey. I became completely obsessed with the big hooks, hilarious haircuts, and awful music videos; most notably the awesomely bad video for "Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)."

These last 2 weeks, I just haven't been able to shake the Alien movie legacy from my microcosmic mental zeitgeist. What I did to alleviate this geek pressure was to go into a full on onanistic viewing of the Director's cut of Alien (Dir. Ridley Scott), Extended version of Aliens (Dir. James Cameron), and the Assembly cut of Alien³ (Dir. David Fincher), just to gain additional perspective and to follow up on my glowing review of Prometheus. 

As a singular moment in cinema (to quote myself) Alien stands alone in its majesty. It's dark, it's scary, it's xenoclaustrophobialicious. James Cameron expanded the battlefield and peppered it with even more aliens, which by all accounts, reduces the terror factor of being stalked by a single creature and frankly dilutes the xenomorph's ferocity when you're mowing them down with phase plasma pulse rifles, RPGs, flame throwers and sonic electronic ball breakers. But hey, it's so damn fun to watch! Cameron shifted gears and jumped genres from Scott's dark sci-fi space horror to an action adventure, subterranean warfare movie.  

So why are people so angry with Alien³? I believe it's because audiences were expecting to see a rehash of Cameron's vision, though we did not take into account that there was no precedent set for that. There was no reason that the third installment should just be Aliens 2. These movies should be viewed as 3 distinct visions, all with the central characters of Sigourney Weaver (Ripley), and the demon that haunts her fate. It is evident that Fincher's intention was to interpret this dynamic through his own lens, just as Cameron and Scott did before him. 

At the end of Aliens, Ripley, Newt, Corporal Hicks and the android Bishop are the only remaining characters. They all go into cryosleep after successfully ejecting the queen alien into space, in an epic final battle. Alien³ immediately follows with their ship experiencing an onboard fire and is forced to launch an escape pod. We see an x-ray of a face hugger attached to one of the crew members as the onboard scanner monitors their vitals. The pod then crashes on Fiorina 'Fury' 161, A planet populated by only a couple dozen residual XYY chromosome prisoners who have turned to religion, but aren't any less dangerous. The 10 year old Newt is killed in the crash, along with Corporal Hicks and Bishop is destroyed beyond repair. Ripley somehow manages to escape death, is rescued by the prisoners and is forced to shave her head due of the lice infestation. Hardly the manace they are all about to encounter.

Let's stop here for a second. Fans could not get past the fact that Ripley was the only surviving character from the preceding movie, which retroactively renders Aliens anticlimactic. So what's wrong with that? It's not a very Hollywood path to take, nor was it at all what audiences were wishing for, but it's not an entirely unreasonable scenario, even though it feels like a kick in the balls. Their deaths feel arbitrary, but this movie is an illustration of how life/fate can be downright cruel. There is genuine grief that the fans felt for these characters, which conveniently dovetails into the melancholic, nihilistic world that Fincher creates in his installment of the franchise.


It just so happens that a couple of stow away face huggers respectively impregnate Ripley and a local Ox (or a dog, depending on which version you watch) with the alien embryos of a queen and drone. You may ask; "Hey, how did these dang eggs get there?" This was a source of controversy for many fans, but I'm happy to answer that with sci-fi logic; Presumably by the egg laying queen at the end of Aliens. I mean her job is laying eggs, right?  Those alien buggers are so flippin' sneaky!  Perhaps before the crew went to sleep, they should have done a final sweep to check for any left over Xenos, just for good measure. But ultimately, I ain't mad at that point of contention.

Hardly a shot is fired in Alien³, as a main plot points is there are no weapons of any kind on the entire planet. This is a bit of a leap in the opposite direction of Cameron's bang bang, shoot'em up world. It's a smart way to go if you want humans to be the helpless underdog in your story as there are no worldly possessions among this monastic community. It is a true showdown of Woman v Nature. Did we really want to watch another 2 hours of bullets vs acid blood? Maybe... but that's why they made Alien: Resurrection, which is decidedly stupid and a complete waste of time.



Like Prometheus, there is an element of religion in Alien³, though in this film it mainly serves as a pacifier for the troubled convicts who are terminally criminal and knowingly beyond retribution. They use religion as a crutch, and don't seem to have genuine faith. Charles S. Dutton deftly plays the angst ridden Dillon, the religious leader of these societal outcasts. There is a well orchestrated undercurrent of cynicism throughout. Dillon redeems himself, in one scene by saving Ripley from being raped by inmates, and finally by luring the alien into the lead pit to take it on Mano a Xeno. An illustration of how, regardless of religious distractions, humans are the moral animal.

At the end of the film, Lance Henrickson makes an appearance as Michael Bishop (Bishop II), and is purportedly the human who designed the Bishop android in his likeness.  This is where the religious imagery starts to get heavy.  Bishop II claims to be Ripley's savior, but he is really just a chess piece (pun intended) for Weyland Corp.  He is a false prophet, and we never really know whether or not he's another synthetic human even after getting whacked on the head with a pipe. Surely no human could withstand that abuse and maintain consciousness, but he is clearly bleeding red blood. He seems more annoyed than in pain. This is a great artistic stroke on the behalf of the filmmakers. Ripley proves to be the one true savior of mankind and knowing that she is carrying the alien queen embryo, plunges herself into the furnace below in a Jesus Christ pose.

This film is about sacrifice and was meant to be the end of a trilogy. It may not be what the fans wanted, but it does bring a sense of closure to the purgatorial struggles that Ripley withstands in these movies. It is she who becomes the eventual master of her own destiny and the savior of humankind.

In a vacuum, Fincher's filmic vision is a magnificent, artsy effort in its own right. Even though most involved with the picture felt they were being pulled in all directions, this flick is still hinged on a good script and a good director, which yielded a good bit of cinema. As a sequel, it struggles to compete with expectations. It's overall tenor of despair, hopelessness and genuine terror hit a lot of the right, albeit dour notes, but audience expectations were simply unmet and that's why it gets a bum rap.

Blowmetheus

Hollywood has gotten fat, lazy and super stupid.  The American public is in lockstep with the dumbing down of the deep space genre that was legitimized by the likes of Stanley Kubrick (2001: A Space Odyssey), and perpetuated by none other than Ridley Scott (Alien) himself.  

Though I did not completely despise Prometheus, my problems with the film are aplenty.  I caught the midnight premiere of the much anticipated and long awaited nerd-a-thon, with my trusty 3D goggles in tow.  This film marks Ridley Scott's "triumphant" return to the dorktastic Sci-Fi genre, though a triumph it is not.  After watching this movie, I get the feeling that Scott jumped back into the space game because it was a sure thing regarding revenue, and not because he was passionate about the project.

(Paging George Lucas!)

The movie opens magnificently with a humanoid alien "Engineer," who looks much like an ancient Greek or Roman statue, standing atop a waterfall on primordial Earth.  He sacrifices himself in order to seed our planet with the molecular ingredients for life. I immediately saw this as a religious ceremony, as in; "Oh, I get it, they created us, so they are the gods of man, but who do they worship?"  I thought this was a great concept and hasn't really been represented in a major hollywood film before. (Well not since Zemeckis' adapation of Sagan's Contact anyway...)  

What I LOVE are the overarching themes, such as the creation and eventual (self)destruction of mankind.  The literal Prometheus allusion being that once man is given the privilege of fire, he is unworthy of its power.  This, I think, is the string that connects all of these movies together in that the pursuit of obtaining the unobtainable will forever tantalize humanity and all its hubris.  

The film goes right in its absolutely awe inspiring spectacle and there are quite a few redeemable elements.  One of which being Michael Fassbender's uncanny portrayal of David 8, a synthetic human developed by the Weyland corporation.  For his Peter O'Toole invoking performance alone, the movie is worth seeing. But sadly, breathtaking CGI and a single actor's talents, does not a movie make.   

There is a great parallel between Weyland Corp. and the Alien Engineers in their mutual terraforming pursuits.  Weyland Corp. creates synthetic humans, the Engineers create human beings.  Who created the Engineers?  It's a fun dynamic that is looped and played around with as David is aware of his creators, while we are in search of ours.  I also like the speculation that Theron's character may in fact be an android herself, but it just so happens that she's David's human sister; hence their rivalry.  Well played.

Noomi Rapace plays, Elizabeth Shaw, the scientist who discovers where the engineer aliens have been hanging out.  She kinda looks like a stubby, baby version of Sigourney Weaver.  Her performance is okay, and kudos to her for managing to get the alien surgically removed from her womb on her own.  (Which, by the way, is a bit of a plot hole in that NOBODY tries to stop her, after she just ran away from 1 and a half people who were emphatically trying to stop her!) It's a very memorable scene, which showcases an automated surgery phone booth, but is blatantly telegraphed earlier in the movie when they essentially say "Hey, what is that surgery machine doing on board?!  Um, never mind that now, we'll get to that scene later."  Her baby alien squid wasn't all that scary, though it ultimately manages to grow to the size of the room it's trapped in without consuming any biomass whatsoever. Illogical, captain. 

This movie goes wrong, not in its connection to Alien, but with it's attempt to distance itself from the franchise.  It desperately introduces all sorts of random, biotech aliens which are no where near as creepy and vicerally repulsive as H.R. Giger's aesthetic provided.  There are also too many script problems, and nonsensical character motivations.  Why the heck would the two scientists who were scared shitless in a previous scene, all of a sudden want to pet the space cobra?  Why would you take your helmet off on an alien planet, when any number of bad things (the least of which would be an unbreathable atmosphere) could infect, poison, or spectacularly eviscerate you. After everyone on board has been violently killed, and even after the Engineer alien tries to kill Shaw (repeatedly), she immediately wants to go after them - on their home planet?  Really?  I don't buy it. I find that to be an insulting ploy to string us along for sequels, and it was one of the many movie moments that felt completely disingenuous.  

At one point the movie becomes John Carpenter's The Thing, and anything that comes in contact with the oozy space puke (i.e. mealworms, mediocre actors, etc.) turns into a belligerent asshole of a beast.  Just beating up and killing everything in their path.  Why?  I couldn't tell you.  It seemed perfectly obvious that the Xenomorph from the original Alien was such a dickface, because it was always so dang hangry (hungry + angry)... And humans indubitably look like a bunch of bacon cheeseburgers to a hangry xenomorph.  It stands to reason that it had to consume the Nostromo crew in order to have grown 10 feet tall in the 12 or so movie hours that it lurked upon the ship.  Fair attempt at space logic there, captain! 

I think the only reason why I keep watching Prometheus over and over (not through any illegal means, I assure you) is because it gives me that methadone equivalent to Alien's heroine. It's bits and pieces of something that I wanted for a long time, and if I keep going over those bits, I'll some how feel better.  But sadly, it hasn't been working. I still feel that the movie goes off in all sorts of misguided directions, throws in a few red herrings, and leaves me wanting less. 

It appears that being clever with the script has gone by the wayside when it comes to making a sci-fi space horror flick these days.  I love Ridley Scott's epic, visionary films, and Alien shall forever remain untouched as a singular moment in cinema. Prometheus was a bit too Hollywood, with a syrupy score and ideas too big for its britches. Perhaps the last 33 years wasn't a long enough period for Scott to find a better screenplay to work with.

Signs, Signs, Everywhere a Sign...

Tesla -- Not the rock group, but the man.  The myth. He was one of history's greatest inventors, but has faded into obscurity and cult status.  When people think of the light bulb, they think of Edison.  People don't realize that the method used to power that lightbulb today, and every other modern piece of electronic technology, for that matter, was devised by Nikola Tesla.

Why haven't we seen a movie about this man of extraordinary technological influence and intriguing mythos?  Over 100 years ago Tesla predicted a world integrated and powered by wireless electromagnetism. This is something that we are just getting a handle on today.  (i.e. cell phones, wifi, wireless charging)  

He originally came to America to work under Edison, but when his ideas were rejected, a rivalry was born. Tesla's ideas regarding practical use of electricity prevailed in the end (and persist to this day), but because he wasn't as business savvy as Edison, he ended up poor and raising pigeons. 

I find it a tragic story of someone who clearly saw the future, being thwarted by greed and those in power.  These days, people don't need to have a good idea, they just need to have an idea... and If you're a Kardashian sister, you don't even have a clue!  Though somehow they are on TV every day influencing the next generation and spearheading the extraordinarily irritating vocal fry trend.  It's because they know how to brand.  They can sell their shitty brand to a public that doesn't even know what's best for them.  This is what Edison was good at.  He patented every single widget he could muster, so he could corner the market and edge out the competition.  


If ideas succeeded on the merit of their quality alone, we'd live in a utopian society with endless free energy, flying cars, and Ke$ha would be mopping floors.


It would be great to see a biopic chronicling his life... but Hollywood is as guilty as the investors from 100 years ago who didn't want to take a chance on Tesla's brilliant ideas.  His ideas are more relevant than ever!  I suppose in order to make a movie about his life, I'd have to figure in a few hot babes, a car chase and some vampires. 

New Tattoo

Call me mainstream, call me a sucker, call me a fanboy, but I really dig that new Van Halen song Tattoo.  Maybe it's because I'm in an LA mood and these kick-ass old school rockers smack of some local flavor.

Legendary guitarist, Eddie Van Halen, has the unique and profitable ability to combine musical virtuosity with catchy hooks along with infectious rhythms.  There may be an undeniable formula involved in their rock song alchemy, but it just seems to work so well every single time. 


Most hard rock bands fall into the common trap of shredding for the sake of shredding and completely miss the mark of musicality in their overly technical wank fests.  The concept of "serving the song" is not lost on EVH.  His recorded guitar parts, tasteful chord changes and solos are always well thought out and arranged to raise the interest of a section or increase the excitement of the moment.  He's groovy and flavorful, while periodically reminding the listener of how impossibly skilled he is with every last tap-tap-tap-wiedly.



When it comes to another element of the VH success story, I can only think of three words: David Lee Roth. He brings an increased level of pompousness and attitude, or what I like to call "pompitude" to his role as Van Halen frontman.  It ought to be noted that there is a distinct difference between "Lead Singer" and "Front Man."  I am a stickler when it comes to these terms as I consider a front man to be much more of a performer.


A frontman captivates audiences with his antics and generally carries the show with his personality. DLR fills this role perfectly as he is a complete jackass and the consumate showman.  Whereas a lead singer is generally in a band that carries them (i.e. Van Halen; Gary Cherone Era).

When it comes to DLR's vocals, he brings a campy playfulness to their songs while Eddie truly adds artistic depth to the music.  Think that's a stretch?  Listen to "Tattoo" a few more times and you'll hear that it goes beyond a superficial rock song about some Tramp Stamp Sally, but rather there is a blatant underlying self referential theme about Van Halen's ability to stick around.  These guys have such a long history with AND without each other, and are well aware that they are inextricably linked.

There is a dynamism and duality in the lyric vs the music in "Tattoo" which actually brings out a, dare I say it, significant range of emotion from pride, to humor, to nostalgia, to melancholia.

The music of Van Halen and their iconic imagery is etched in rock history. They remind us of this in the screaming pinched harmonics, blistering runs, swooshing dive bombs and half spoken jackassery in this latest tune in their 40 year old arselal of rock. 

Sci-Fi Boner.

When I saw the preview to Ridley Scott's upcoming flick "Prometheus," I couldn't help but get chills when I saw iconic imagery that was used in his 1979 film classic Alien.  The "derilict spacecraft" that the Nostromo crew first come upon, the alien "space jockey" skull and face hugging type creatures are all evident in the trailer.

Though Scott has strongly resisted characterizing this film as a prequel, I think he is setting out to right some things in the deep space, scifi thriller genre. The Alien franchise, with all of its potential, has gone awry in the last 15 years so it looks like Prometheus is a nice reboot or rebirth of something in the same vein.  Who better to redo than the man who started it all?  That's not really a question.

I'm hoping that this film ends up being what Scott calls a stand alone movie with it's own epic mythology... with obvious links to Alien. :)

Speciale Edition

Looking up into the clear blue sky on this Sunny, 65 degree Los Angeles day, it's easy to forget that Christmas is just 4 days away.  People often don't realize how easy it can be to change someone's life through the simple act of giving.   I am very inspired by the prospect of our limitless potential as human beings (...or as Van Halen would say "Humans Being").  

Reconciling my creativity with productivity, on the other hand, is not so easy.  Ideas come and go most often unrealized.  I'm sure we've all forgotten more of our "million dollar ideas" than we've been motivated it capitalize on... but I digress.

Someone recently told me that expressing oneself through the written word is an essential part of being an artist.  Well here I am, being productive and writing away.  Just a thought or two, on what inspires me to continue moving forward on my path.  The story of how I got my foot in the door readily comes to mind.
Brian Reingold (aka Mr. Speciale [yes, with an "e" at the end]) was the first person to ever give me a job in the movie biz.  He was the Unit Production Manager for the Belladonna Studios production "L.I.E."

Like most everyone these days, I had no job or even a single lead straight out of college.  It also doesn't help when you get your degree in Film Studies.  So within days of graduation, I took it upon myself to walk around Manhattan, and go into a string of production company offices cold, resume in hand.  They would all tell me the same thing; that they weren't hiring right now or that they would put my resume on file.  There seemed to be little or no hope, really.

Then one fateful day I walked into the Belladonna office in Chelsea, Manhattan, I was greeted by a bald, hyperkinetic guy with a thick Buffalo accent.  He introduced himself as Brian, but everyone eventually called him Mr. Speciale.  Within moments of meeting him, he said a word or two about his German film producer with the French name, he went on rapid fire style, about his son's major league baseball ambitions, then quickly changed gears again and offered me a gig on the spot despite my lack of experience working on a film set.  I sat there in an illustrated state of dumbfounded excitement.

I distinctly remember the 1st Assistant Director, Jose Gilberto Molinari-Rosaly, coming over and glaring at me, with a "Who the hell is this?  What the hell is he doing here?  Get him the hell out of here! I don't want him to be on my production staff!" look on his face.

After a few tense moments between the two of them as they argued right in front of me over whether or not I should be hired, I butted in and let them know that I could ask a bunch of my former classmates to help out if they needed any more production assistants. I got the job, much to the chagrin of the 1st AD and through much situational massaging on the part of Mr. Speciale.  I also happen to supply the film with 5 other PAs.

Me and my fellow alumni busted our asses working on that movie, and after the first week Jose ate his words.  He actually congratulated all of the PAs and told us we were the best team he had ever worked with!

Why recount this story?  Well, I'm glad I asked!  Because I am inspired by one's willingness to take a chance on someone unproven, solely based on their first impression.  These days it's damn near impossible to find a job without knowing someone first.  It's not what you know, It's not even WHO you know, but rather who knows YOU.  It's true... look it up.

Mr. Speciale hooked me up, got my foot in the door and helped me get other tv/film jobs etc. For that I am eternally thankful. Everyone should be so lucky to have someone randomly help them out like that. Pay it forward in this season of giving.

Merry Christmas Everyone! :)

Cars Parked in the Sun

My LA experience has been nothing short of phenomenal.  I've had an unbelievable reception from the greatest of welcome wagons.  Friends, new and old have been incredibly accommodating and want nothing more than to help out in any way they can.  Though it has its detractors, LA is truly an inspiring city.  A lot of people would sooner gag on a spoon from hearing me say that, so to them I say, "bon appetit."

It's a whole different scene out here versus Long Island, New York.  My general experience here has been that people just want to help you out.  Everyone is here to work, to get jobs and to give jobs.  However, one always has to factor in the LA "flake" quotient.  Being from New York, I tend to say what I mean and do what I say I'm going to do.  If we agree to meet or do something, I'll hold you to it.  People in LA ... not so much. 

It's been about a month and a half since I arrived in this sunny city of Angelenos, and I've discovered that the music scene here is alive and well.  I've seen many local bands including Shadow Shadow Shade, Telstar, and most recently The Child.  I make it a habit to go out just about every night, just to see what's crackin'.

The Child was quite impressive with their spacey David Bowie-esque sounds and atmosphere.      They had an eclectic look, solid rhythm section and you can't beat a band that has 2 chick singers.  It was their EP release party, and it was a lot of fun to watch. 

At this show I ran into Dhani Harrison (Son of George), and had a bit of a chat with him.  I was quite impressed with Dhani's words and wisdom, having recently seen him in the Scorcese documentary "Living in the Material World," about his father.  The son of the famed "quiet" Beatle was exceedingly nice and was somehow convinced that he had met me before.  He was sure that I was one of two Aristotles that he knows and that I was the one he had met while hanging out with Zowie Bowie.  I insisted he was mistaken, though in retrospect, I should have just went along with it.

Some Things I Can't Remember

The mind is like a dryer... every now and then you lose a sock full of memories.  I sometimes think about the line in the 40 Year Old Virgin, when Steve Carell is hammered and when asked how much he's had to drink says "Oh, how many times have you gone to the bathroom in your life?!" There's really no way to tell.

I was pouring my cereal in a bowl this morning thinking about how 10 years from now, I will have absolutely no recollection of this minor event, unless a big brown bear smashed through the wall at that very moment.  If that were to happen, I would inevitably recount that story by saying how I was just minding my own business, pouring a bowl of cereal and all of a sudden... etc. etc. etc.


It also happens to be laundry day.  We really don't remember these moments in between.  My meaningless cereal pouring on the morning of December 8th 2012; the 22nd anniversary of the death of John Lennon; the date that Dimebag Darell was shot to death on a stage in Ohio;  My sister's birthday.  All of these events are effortlessly etched in the forefront of my mind on this date... but my cereal and laundry will be lost.


I often think about how we never really see the actual events of someone's life in TV or Film.  The hit show "24" boasted that every hour was in "real time" but I don't remember the episode where Jack Bauer was gone for 10-15 minutes because he was in the bathroom.  I figure that could be a whole segment, between commercials.  Everyone standing around, looking at their watches, waiting for Jack to shit or get off the pot. 


Goodbye my Rice Crispies, you were my arbitrary choice of morning sustenance.  The event of my pouring you, dousing you with milk and your consumption shall forever be forgotten... unless I write a blog about it.

We Are 99% Confused.

As I was exploring the great city of Chicago last night, I randomly stumbled onto the Occupy Chicago protestor parade which was en route to Grant Park... So naturally I jumped in the queue to see what they're all about.


When we got to the park, a half hour was spent laying down the ground rules for the forum. Then they asked the first speaker to make a proposal, but nobody spoke.  It was a meeting to discuss further meetings and few if any solutions were proposed with this particular group.  In my mind, the only solid proposal to counter corporate greed is to encourage people to close their accounts with large corporate banking institutions and to put their money in local banks or credit unions.  


Other than that, it mostly felt like one big gripefest.  

On The Road Again... Again.

I'm officially 2 days into my journey out West.  I'm headed back to Los Angeles, California, to go prospecting for gold plated diapers... never question Bruce Dickenson. Back in '05 I went to live in LA in search of a recording contract and was able to focus my efforts which ultimately led to my band getting signed.  I'm going back there to shake it up and make things happen again.  

Yesterday, I was able to stop at the Jackson family house in Gary, Indiana. It was in an incredibly unassuming neighborhood, right off of the interstate... and by unassuming I mean SCARY.

Right now, I'm in Chicago, and so far I can't tell weather the locals are angry or just talking. The world famous deep dish pizza here is a bit of a disappointment, naturally, having eaten New York pizza my whole life.  I'm afraid you can just smother corn bread with spaghetti sauce and call it pizza.  Sorry guys, try again.

American Industry

Last night I noticed about 5 songs that were by former American Idol contestants in the background while I was dining out at a restaurant. It's become quite apparent that AI has taken over the music industry. It's a no brainer -- The acts have already been "focus group" tested by the American public. At this point all they have to do is get packaged and marketed. It's become quite apparent that AI has taken over the music industry.

The last thing you want to do as a contestant on American Idol is to actually win the competition! It seems there are only 2-3 winners that have stuck around. Most of the airwaves are polluted with the castoffs and we rarely even hear about the winners. Where is Fantasia Barino these days? Probably hanging out with Taylor Hicks at Euro-Disney.

In my experience, you'll be hard pressed to find anyone in the entertainment industry willing to take a risk these days. Almost every song you hear on the radio has been put though the same "hit making" mill, which continuously churns out frothy, forgettable pop. Even Bon Jovi is pumping out country hits. When the hell did that happen? I suppose it's the only way to stay relevant for some. Most industry folk will only go for the "sure thing." This also explains why every single movie that comes out today is either a remake, a sequel, based on a comic book, novel, TV show, toy, a theme park ride, a cartoon carrot, a talking toupee, a popsicle stand, a dog & pony show, a salad dressing, etc. etc. etc.

All safe bets. Where are the original ideas? Where are the "Ghostbusters" of today!?



Our world today lacks vision and needs a great big fucking pair of bifocals.

The King of Second Chances

How do you go from being in the biggest rock band in the world then to … being in the biggest rock band in the world now?! Just ask Dave Grohl!

(Dave is the prime example of what it is to be a Rock Star.)

For me, this week has been all about the new Foo Fighters album "Wasting Light." It's another great bunch of songs that just hammer home the fact that Foo is good for you! (I'm listening to the album for about the 10th time as I write this.)

In my opinion (which is always right), Dave's career is unparalleled and a paradigmatic anomaly. Usually it's hard to resurrect, let alone surpass a larger than life rock star status after a key member of your band implodes. (i.e. Led Zeppelin ended overnight when it was bedtime for Bonzo, and he decided to never wake up.)

Instead of crashing and burning out into obscurity after Nirvana ended, Dave flipped the script and rose from the ashes. Not to keep mixing metaphors, but he has really managed to kick rock's ass in the face! Not only has Foo Fighters seemingly had more hits that Nirvana even had songs, but they've managed to capture the spotlight every single time they come around with a new album.

I'm sure it's abundantly clear at this point that Foo Fighters is Dave's deal. He's created a band situation for himself where he's in charge of who comes and goes and doesn't have to push the "reset button" if anyone else in the band decides to blow their head off. This is a valuable lesson that I've taken to heart, having learned it the hard way. It's a model that I've decided I will follow in the future.

This is not to say that none of the other guys in the band (Nate Mendel, Chris Shiflet, Taylor Hawkins, and Pat Smear) are unimportant. Quite the contrary; Dave has hand picked these kick-ass musicians to create an unmistakable and legendary sound. After watching their Documentary, and seeing what it's like for them in the studio, it's clear that Dave micromanages every single note, snare hit, and scream on their recordings.

I think the most important thing gleaned from the Dave's success is that he seems to have surrounded himself with good, loyal people and he's always stuck to a clear vision of what Foo Fighters represents. If I've learned anything in my own personal experience it is: Always go with your gut, never compromise your integrity, and if anyone stands in your way -- stomp their face in.

When Kurt Cobain took his own life, he left a major void in the rock-time-continuum. It is my belief that after the way things went down 16 years ago, Dave feels the insurmountable burden and compulsion to personally fill that void in his own way. I get the feeling that he has the need to live up to his earned status, and never wants to let the fans down. Whether he was like that before Nirvana or not, he has since shown that he has a maniacal urge to constantly prove himself on every song; on every album.

There are many lyrical allusions to my hypothesis on Wasting Light, such as the line "...here comes the king of second chances" (Bridge Burning); "...Getting good at starting over every time that I return. I'm learnin' to walk again -- ...I never wanna die!" (Walk); and the song I Should Have Known which Dave says was written with Kurt in mind.

It has the refrain: "No I cannot forgive you yet, No I cannot forgive you yet, You leave my heart in debt, I should have known.

(It's nothing short of chilling to hear Krist Novoselic play the heavy
handed, nasty, bad-ass bass line in the bridge section of this track
[the "middle eight," if your British] with the legendary Nevermind producer, Butch Vig
at the helm. Pat Smear is back for this Fighting round, and happens to be one of the
few among the Foo who knew what it was like to play/tour with Nirvana. A
fittingly therapeutic step toward closure regarding the whole
fucked up shit-uation that must have spiraled out in their personal
lives after Nirvana's abrupt and untimely end.)

To me, those lyrics are a key insight to what motivates Dave's indomitable spirit. For years it seemed that Dave would rarely if ever admit to musical references to Kurt/Nirvana, but now, it seems Dave is comfortable enough to go there. It's okay to talk/write about it now. Though there's obvious bitterness still there, it seems to be what propels Foo forward. Ain't nobody gonna dictate Dave's destiny but him!

It was a wise decision to record their latest album, "Wasting Light" on old fashioned 2" tape. I learned a great lesson from Rick Rubin, (via Howard Stern, by way of Chris Rock) which is "always set yourself apart from the pack." This album is sonically unique in today's homogenized digital/Pro Tools universe. The rawness is realness. The imperfections are present, and are what give the sound its character; Its authenticity; Its purity. Something that Dave has carried over from the Nirvana days to the current state of Foo Fighters.

(I often think there is a certain kindred spirit between guys like Dave
and his Them Crooked Vultures band-mates (John Paul Jones
[Led Zeppelin], and Josh Homme [QOTSA/Kyuss]). These guys are all
great rockers who blew up in other bands, and shine when they have a vehicle to showcase their badass-itude. They all also seem to be
career-minded musicians, rather than total fuck-ups.)

This particular album pushes their sound even further. The mastering leaves some overhead for the mix to breathe. It's great to be able to hear all the layers of what was actually recorded rather than squashing it all into a modern rock sound sandwich.

Song-wise, the album just fuckin' rocks as I keep listening. Miss the Misery just came on. The 4/4+2/4 balls out rock riff immediately has my head banging. As the song plays, I'm only able to continue typing this with my pinkies and pointers as my hands have automatically and uncontrollably locked themselves in the devil horns position! \m/ \m/

(Sidebar: One time a sound engineer told me that you can't groove to a 7/8 time signature… that engineer must have never heard FF's Times like These... )

I really get the sense that Dave is constantly working at maintaining a certain level of quality. He works hard, and seems to have no limit to is desire to top their last hit. It's apparent that Dave is well aware and appreciative at how rare it is to be given a second chance at being among the gods of rock.

Evidently, Dave was always destined for greatness, despite his mid-90's hiccup. One can only infer that the secret must be in his ability to win people over with his charisma, wit, great rock songs and even more so, HARD WORK! They just don't quit.

Foos keep on Fighting.

(Thanks to my friend Keith for forwarding this link just now

and reminding me that being a class act also can help your
longevity. A good way to to put a button on this blog entry.)

Charlie Sheen and the Violent Truth

Last night I caught the unstoppable, infinite-car-pile-up-traffic-accident that is Charlie Sheen. He was performing at Radio City Music Hall on his Violent Torpedo of Truth / Defeat is Not an Option tour. I must say, I found him funny and quite amusing for a bit, but as the show went on and the crowd got more intoxicated, things got... more interesting?

Warlock = Tigerblood + Adonis DNA

The audience was calamitous and people were complaining that they wasted their money. What were they expecting, Shakespeare?

I don't mean to pop your bubble-yum, but Charlie is NOT a stand up comedian, he's a Movie and Television star whose had 6 weeks to develop a touring act for which he's had absolutely no experience. Everyone who bought a ticket knew this going in, so I'm confused as to why anyone would be disappointed. I went to the show, without any expectations, just to be open to what might happen and be witness to the whole cultural phenomenon surrounding Charlie.

I very much appreciate the spectacle of it all in an Andy Kaufman kind of way.

Andy had the unique ability to deliberately turn audiences against himself. To me, this is a brilliant form of meta-comedy that I enjoy. During some performance pieces, he would create awkward silences, and insist that the audience stop laughing at him. I actually saw one bit he did on Letterman, where he went through the crowd asking for money because he fell on hard times after getting fired from his hit TV show, Taxi. People actually dug into their pockets to give him a hand out!

Little did the audience know that they were a part of the whole joke, and that there is a much bigger social punchline that becomes defined afterward and is hilarious in the context of time. Like a magician, Andy used slight of hand to keep you looking where he wanted you to look, but all the while he was pulling a rabbit out of your ass.

I will not go as far as to say that Charlie is orchestrating his theatrical demise each night. However, I will point out that the recently unemployed actor has sold thousands of tickets at venues across the country, strictly on his pop-culture capital. That is an ingenious way to take the limes you've been handed and turn them into a margarita flavored Porsche. Ultimately, the joke is on anyone who is taking this whole thing seriously at all.

I'm not laughing at Charlie, I'm not even laughing at the crowd (...well maybe I am) -- I'm laughing at the context and enjoying the all encompassing absurdity. The fun is in the reaction it gets! I find it hilarious when people flip out and say how much they either think Charlie sucks, or think he's the greatest thing since cheeze waffles were invented.

Charlie is a fascinating case study in our culture's morbid obsession with celebrity melt downs. In the end, I got my money's worth because I'll always get to say that I was there to see it... whatever it was.

Piaaaaaaaa!

How could America vote off the best singer in the competition??? The elimination of Pia Toscano is a big enough upset for even me to quit watching American Idol!

I'm convinced the voters must all be smoking crack in order to have voted her off and keep the lame country, microphone flautist Scotty "McDreary."

American Idol has officially OFFICIALLY jumped the shark after this unforgivable moment. This show has always been about likability and vocal talent. They've really offset the ratio by voting for talentless teenyboppers and putting the actual musicians in jeopardy. It just goes to show that you really don't need ability or even good looks to make it in the music biz. The remaining contestants are a bunch of interchangeable garbage faces and Casey Abrams. Let me know who wins, cuz I ain't watchin' no more.