Quote Of The Day, Part IV.

"I have no idea what I'm talking about, but I don't think you do, either."
--David Letterman, to Bill O'Reilly.

Just When You Thought Rush Limbaugh Couldn't Be Any More Of A Scumbag.

Really, Rush, what's next? Accusing cancer patients of "faking it"? Are you going to mimic the epileptic tremors of a person with a brain tumor?

I know, I know--your real point was that Democrats are accustomed to making sympathy pleas to achieve political ends. But what you did was neither insightful (let alone original) political commentary, nor was it the concerns of true conservatives. I know you've made a comfortable living for yourself by being a right-wing shock jock, but that was just a mean-spirited demonstration of your complete lack of class.

Now do the world a favor and eat a bullet, you piece of dirt.

Live: The Decemberists @ Gypsy Tea Room, 10.25.06.

Read anything at all about Portland, Oregon's The Decemberists and you'll invariably come across the same statement repeatedly--that they are indie rock's greatest success story. Now, the real rule of thumb is that that which is popular is, by its very nature, suspect to people of discerning taste. The Decemberists, however, are the real deal; they've got the goods where it counts: they're smart, ecclectic, progressive, and they rock. Not only that, but Colin Meloy is really up there among rock's great frontmen: he's got the vocals, he's got the vision, he's got the lyrics, and he's a true showman.

Funny. Freudian slip--I almost typed "shaman" there.

Let me go ahead and get the negative elements out of the way:

• obnoxious Dallas hipsters: Shut the fuck up, n00bs. I'm there to hear the music, not your bullshit talk. If you're not there for what I'm there for, go. the fuck. home.
• emo douchebag to my right: there were signs all over the place reading, "at the request of the artist, please do not smoke inside during tonight's performance." You think you're the only one who wanted a smoke? No. You're just the only one with no self-control, or else no sense of the world beyond your carefully coiffed, in-your-face bangs. That's why I told the bouncer who was looking for the smoker where you were, shit-for-brains. Oh, and tip #2: no one thought you were making an interesting fashion statement by wearing a wool blazer and muffler inside a packed club on a night when it was 65 degrees outside and over 90 inside. We all thought you're a poseur.

Now where was I?

OK. Having gotten the bad stuff out of my system, I'll get down to what was really important, which was the band's performance. It was outstanding. Absolutely first-rate. The one and only downside was when they performed "The Crane Wife" in its entirety, which provided the crowd an opportunity to socialize. Songs like "We Both Go Down Together," "Shankhill Butchers," "Sixteen Military Wives," and "Los Angeles, I'm Yours," however, were sing-along greats. Meloy really knew how to work the crowd, too, and not in that artificial ("when I say 'hey,' you say 'ho'") way, but in a very organic way that sprang from everyone communally getting on board with his energy, his passion, his performance.

I confess that I was dying to hear "The Mariner's Revenge Song," but they never played it. Come on. If you're reading this, you would've wanted to hear it, too. Actually, I think someone even requested it, since at one point, Meloy replied to someone up front, "no, we can't play that one. After you start writing 10-minute songs, you realize you can only play so many songs at a show."

Nevertheless, the musical joy continued: "O, Valencia!" and "Sons and Daughters," with that wonderful, hope-filled coda: "hear all the bombs fade away." It's no great wonder, English major that I am, that I love a band that named an album Picaresque and understands the structural formula of the frame narrative, as in "The Mariner's Revenge Song," modeled as it is after "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner," with shades of Moby-Dick. What is a little surprising for me is how much I love The Crane Wife, which is a little more...real, I guess. It's political, without being pointed or mean-spirited. It's got the same dark love songs of suicide, murder, and loss, but they can pull it off with such joy and exuberance. Like They Might Be Giants before them, The Decemberists can take your pain, whatever it is, and turn it into laughter with a joy that's heart-breaking.

What can I say? Get their albums. Go see them. They will absolutely set you free.

Just try to avoid seeing them with a Dallas crowd.

You Will Never Take Me Alive.

let's here it for circuits
lines drawn in the earth
cut to scramble for ramble
little mouse hole to park your new car
& chew off our arms
with teeth we are losing from slow, comfy screwings
three cheers for the backseats
your legs pin that look in your eye
you'll never take me alive

this is what you are
you are what you are

let's here it for mirrors
with the ghost image clearer
hip hip for the pig that religiously belts you undone
this little piggy had none
'cause god hates our country
she told me she wants me to sing out "he's female!"
three cheers for the gal in the sky
you'll never take me alive

this is what you are
you are what you are
this is what you are

do you know what it means to be doomed?
do you know what it means to be cursed?
when the blue eyes are washing their mouths in the south
you know they're hiding bodies north
did you know that we're sinking knee-deep?
did you nail down what you plan to keep?
when the poltergeist pushes his freight on your shore
you are done for, done for, done for

the caskets are coughing with quotable quoting
the graveyard is littered with loves who thought their was no doubt
the world could not live without

this is what you are
you are what you are
this is what you are

if i live through the day when the comet does come
i will write everyone down on my list one by one
sharpen the axe
stomp the flames out on backs
i will be who you want me to be
i will be who you want me to be

do you know what it means to be doomed?
do you know what it means to be cursed?
when the blue eyes are washing their mouths in the south
you know they're hiding bodies north
did you know that your boot hills are stuck?
loosing feet worth the rabbit's good luck
when the devil is resting his head on your door
you are done for, done for, done for

you are done for
done for
done for

did you know that you nurse a beehive?
come & get it, come take me alive
all the nooses are in it; a grizzly frontier
we will show this cruel world
we will show this cruel world we were here
=========
I don't normally want to post lyrics here, but I had to share this one.

Quote Of The Day, Pt. III.

We must not confuse dissent with disloyalty. We must remember always that accusation is not proof and that conviction depends upon evidence and due process of law. We will not walk in fear, one of another. We will not be driven by fear into an age of unreason, if we dig deep in our history and our doctrine, and remember that we are not descended from fearful men— not from men who feared to write, to speak, to associate and to defend causes that were, for the moment, unpopular...We can deny our heritage and our history, but we cannot escape responsibility for the result. There is no way for a citizen of a republic to abdicate his responsibilities. As a nation we have come into our full inheritance at a tender age. We proclaim ourselves, as indeed we are, the defenders of freedom, wherever it continues to exist in the world, but we cannot defend freedom abroad by deserting it at home.

--Edward R. Murrow, 1954.

Murrow was speaking on the paranoia of the Red Scare of the 50s, specifically, the fearmongering of Joseph McCarthy and his ilk. But his sentiment remains as relevant today as it was then: The idea then--that a fifth column of communists already existed in this country, eroding American values and undermining our culture; the idea now--that Democrats don't want to protect this country from another attack, that we're unwilling to do all that is necessary to prosecute a "war on terrorism." That we constitute a fifth column of enemy sympathizers.

But if you see enemies everywhere you look, they've won. If we willingly give up our freedoms, our heritage, to be free of fear, they've won. To you Democrats who still refuse even at this late date to stand up to this criminal administration, shame on you. Shame on you, you cowards.

Note To Self.

Movies I have to see:

• American Hardcore
• Renaissance
• Stranger Than Fiction

I swear, every time I see the trailer for American Hardcore, I want to just throw the goat and bang my head. And that's just watching the trailer! When I saw it again last night before This Film is Not Yet Rated, I was seriously tempted to turn to my friend next to me and clock him in the jaw from pure excitement.