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November 4, 2004

President Pocky says, "Natch!"

Oh-oh, the guns of Brixton.

As usual, Patton Oswalt fucking nails it. His recollection of returns watching shared its harried patch of crazy with the pyramid of whiskey drinks that sat on a scarred Bosco table before me and the pals that night. Is it too late to grab the rung of that chopper taking off? (My review of Oswalt's recent standup album, for further reference.)

On to more hopeful things, if we can. It's a sucker bet, but Avril Lavigne's "Happy Ending" is just killing me. I'll take the pain train all the way to the end of the line, defending the humanity in the chorus of that song. I even did it in print, for all of Philadelphia to throw batteries at me.

Yuka Honda has released a pretty damn cool solo album on Zorn's Tzadik imprint. I'd grow a neck beard for more collaborations between she and ex Cibo Matto pal Miho Hatori, but at least Eucademix has one in "I Dream About You". For anyone familiar with the duo's late nineties masterpieces, the track's "clopping, combat-boots-on-subway-steps beat, delicate guitar echoes, gender-specific chorus, and Hatori's whispered sultry vocals" would have it fitting nicely on Viva! La Woman.

Jurrasic 5's DJ Nu Mark has covered John Lennon's "Imagine" on his new mix disc with fellow LA beatmaker Pomo. The record's a nice, easygoing mix of beats, perfect if you're at home practicing your flow for that big cypher moment. But I mention it here mostly as a contrast to A Perfect Circle's absolutely disgusting version of the same song. (Check out my pal Rob's review of that here.)Hmmm, minor soft rock embellisments, or changing the key to match your sadsack outlook? No contest!

In the meantime, I'll pour one out for all the liberal vaginas in the world, about to be shuttered due to entirely valid operator fear. I'll also drink to that echelon of D and E-grade Hollywood starlets, prevented from providing us with more randy episodes of "Beverly Hills Bordello" because of the new mandate. And I'll shed a tear for all the liberals who'll skin knees this weekend, when they spend half of Saturday scraping the "Regime Change in 2004" bumper stickers from the back of their Subaru with a borrowed widget. I'll also drink to the sad visage of a lonely John Kerry, his face getting longer as his Andrew Jackson dreams fade faster than you can say "stay the course". I'm going to make him a mix tape and look into buying an old printing press, because this Internet this is probably fucking dead, too.


Posted by Johnny Loftus at November 4, 2004 4:10 PM

Comments (1)

As a Philadelphian, I'd be happy to throw batteries, concealed in the iceballs I packed back in '95 for the Cowboys game. They're still in the fridge. Just ring the top bell to get pelted.