ChristmasApe's Xanga

Saturday, May 22, 2004

Sat, 22 May 2004 02:32:28 GMT

One essay down, three to go

Friday, May 21, 2004

Fri, 21 May 2004 14:53:40 GMT

NEVER WAS A MAN SO HAPPY STANDING ON THE EDGE

Dear Xanga blog,
catchy emo-esque title eh? Though it lacks any reference to bleeding or a day of the week. I'll get to that later. Anyways, essays are one enormous goat ass pain at the moment, which is what I get for being an English major in a law/arts degree, essays coming out of my freaking ass. I'll finish that sufjan stevens post after june 4th, by which time I will have failed or completed all my essays. Anyhoo, this is to inform my loyal readers that Fred Durst, erstwhile limp bizkit lead singer and figure of ridicule has a xanga blog. It feels good to be in such illustrious company. For those who care, check out American Aliens. Poor old Fred is trying to boost his credibility by wearing Sonic Youth t-shirts and listening to My Bloody Valentine....not gonna happen. All the 'steakheads' as buddyhead so eloquently put it won't take to it too well, and all indie types are about one million shades of snobby to accept the red hatted goon as one of their own.

Who knows, for all his silly posturing Fred might actually be into all that, as much as it comes across as a desparate attempt to look somewhat serious. Still, the man who is responsible for Puddle of Mudd (apparently the lead singer is going to play Kurt Cobain in a Nirvana biopic, blergh!) has gone too far to ever achieve some kind of redemption. My advice Fred, for what it's worth, is take the money and run, or change your name. Anything you release post Limp Bizkit is just too loaded with connotations to be worth anything to anyone, even if it weren't a bucket of shit (and my guess is that it'll be a gigantic bucket brim full of shit).

In other news, Trish Draper is a silly shrill fool who may just cost the liberals a seat or two with her lovely rorting antics. Personally I couldn't give a fuck, but when you make a name for yourself as a high falutin' moral crusader who's only too ready to tell us what we can and can't watch, then anything that sniffs of controversy or foul play will bite you in the ass. Surely she should have known that this wouldn't play well, particularly in the Adelaide environment? Haven't been home for a while so I'm not sure the ad-fertilizers take on the above events, but I can take a pretty good guess.

And now back to the essays. Blergh.

Tuesday, May 11, 2004

Tue, 11 May 2004 14:56:11 GMT

TAHQUAMENON FALLS

Seeing as I originally intended this blog to revolve around music, I guess I should start writing about music. Today, I turn the spotlight on Flint, Michigan's second most famous son: Sufjan Stevens.

My first encounter with Sufjan occured when I was writing for the internet 'zine Delusions of Adequacy (my column, which was of very average quality, was all about the Australian indie scene, not that I knew much about it at the time). I read an article with Sufjan in which, frankly, he came across as an opinionated asshole, and seeing as I had heard none of his music at that point, I wasn't inclined to go searching for it (moreso because he stated his hatred for Wilco and Silver Jews, two of my favourite bands). The interview - and Sufjan's name - was soon forgotten and I heard nothing more about him for a year or two.

Then at the start of this year, indie rock bible Pitchfork (and I like Pitchfork, for all its' ridiculous posturing and often snarky tone) posted their best of list for 2003. As a sidenote, their best of list keeps growing and growing, from the traditional 10 best albums of the year in 1999, to 20 in 2001, to the now unwieldy 50 best albums and 50 best singles. But I disgress. Sufjan's third album Greetings from Michigan: The Great lake state came in at number three. Although the brief album synopsis was somewhat offputting - elevating the importance of the lyrics to an uncomfortable degree - I was interested enough to download a few songs. I was impressed to say the least.

The stock in trade of pop culture is hyperbole,

to be continued

Thursday, May 06, 2004

Thu, 06 May 2004 10:25:01 GMT

FLOAT ON

Further to the below:

One day you will die. Most of will have some inkling that our death is approaching. Perhaps old age is upon you, or someone is pointing a gun at your head, or you are off your nut, paranoid and convinced that the driver of your car is conspiring to kill you (and haven't we all been there). Regardless of your mode of departure, you will not want to think of all the countless wasted hours spent studying or practising law.

I've already given two and a half years of my life (with another two and a half to go) to the hideous shebeast that is law, and I have no intention of spending a day longer than necessary bowing at her festering altar.

Normal posting (by which I mean, no posting) will resume now.

Bring it on lawyers, I'll kill you all. Swear to God.

Thursday, May 06, 2004

Thu, 06 May 2004 10:11:04 GMT

A FEW WORDS FROM THE HEART

May I just say, Fuck law deep in the goat ass. Way deep.

I'm going to go out on a limb here with a rather broad statement (a statement that is unfortunately 100% true).

Lawyers are scum. Terrible, terrible people. All of them. From the stereotypical corporate lawyer to your high powered QC to your stressed out depressed drug taking legal aid lackey. All of them are scum. The law is scum. Studying law is absolute bullshit and anyone who disagrees is themselves an absolute asshole.

Which begs the rather obvious question: Why am I still doing law?

I'm not a psychologist, you tell me. A few popular theories...

1. I hate myself.
2. I'm scared of not following through.
3. I can't be fucked changing degrees.
4. I'm afraid to give up the job security.
5. It would make the last 2 years rather pointless.

All are valid reasons.

This has been a long time coming. However, I've come to the gut-wrenching conclusion that the law, lawyers, judges, lecturers, all of them, are self-important 'tards of the highest order. Which is not to say I'm not complicit in the whole sorry business.

Worse still, they (they being Melbourne Uni law school) suck you in by offering a few decent courses in the first couple of years (Torts aint too bad, because everyone likes to sue or pretend to, criminal law is fun what with the murder part and whatnot) but I defy anyone to enjoy property law. If you are one of the sick, sorry individuals who actually gives two fucking hoots about property law you are either a masochist, an overachieving fuck or some kind of robot/tard hybrid.

The only subject that comes close to approximating the self-important, puffed up tone of law is cultural studies. However, cultural studies has the decency to be a genuine 100% self-sustaining cottage industry, in which great treatises are written about urinals and supermarkets (and the occasional interesting book, eg Don Delillo's White Noise, not a bad read) but at least no one gets hurt. They can be funded by the taxpayer for all I care. Law and lawyers on the other hand, conspire to fuck everyone over (and not cheaply either).

Law Students live in a state of denial over the whole sorry mess. They either struggle along and eventually stop caring (and I don't want to blow my own trumpet, but I was happily going along in first year getting H1's and last year, when the rot set in, I comfortably passed both subjects after attending 2 lectures all year - that's 102 skipped lectures all up) or they turn into sleep deprived law zombies, or they take to it like vicious lawyer vampire ducks to a pond of human blood. These fuckers are the scariest, as they can't wait - CAN'T WAIT - to stop being students. They can't wait to do articles and go work for a big firm or get a shitehouse job working for DFAT. Then they'll end working for the UN, finding ways to cover up the latest oil scandal and expressing their deep concern at the state of whatever the fuck happens to go wrong that day, or they'll
become corporate whores.

I never used to like the stereotype of law students and lawyers as scumbags/corporate whores in waiting. But it's true. We are whores who love the secret language that we're taught, which yr average citizen has sweet fanny adams chance of understanding or interpreting should our services ever be required.

Lawyers are wretched scum. So are law firms. Law schools are festering cesspools.

Phew! That's a weight off my chest. And now back to the cocksucking exercise which started this whole diatribe.

And to all the future wigged 'tards who are posting on the property law forum, GET A FUCKING LIFE. This coming from a guy who spends most of his days staring morosely at a wall (and enjoying it). Fuck you guys. Fuck you way deep in the goat ass.

NB: Being a corporate whore isn't the worst thing in the world. I've got plenty of respect for entrepreuners who get out there and do crazy shit. Heck, even accountants are better than lawyers because at least accountants don't think they're God's special gift to humanity.

And remember kids, if you hit a lawyer with your car, make sure you kill him, because it'll be cheaper and yr far less likely to get sued. And if you do get put away, every crim will love you something fierce (and not in a dropped the soap kind of sense).

Rant over. Bring it on lawyers! I'll kill you all. I swear to God.

Monday, May 03, 2004

Mon, 03 May 2004 15:13:49 GMT

ICE AGE, HEAT WAVE, CAN'T COMPLAIN

Nothing to say and no way to say it.

As they say,

"life is just one damn thing after another". Words to live by.

Wednesday, April 28, 2004

Wed, 28 Apr 2004 04:04:58 GMT

SEPP, GO SUCK A BULLET

I know for a fact that Sepp Blatter reads this blog, amongst others, so please Sepp listen to me when I say GO SUCK A BULLET.

Blatter proposes scrapping of draws

"In an idea that would revolutionise the world's most popular sport if adopted, Blatter suggested that matches should be decided by a penalty shoot-out in the case of a draw.

'Every game should have a winner,' Blatter told German sports news agency SID."

Note to Sepp: WORLD'S MOST POPULAR SPORT. Do not fuck with said sport. Do not dick around with it. Get your fucking grubby mitts off it. You fucking fuckfaced fucktard.

URGH.

People like the sport just fine, even Americans. They do not want you to ruin it by getting rid of draws. Nor do they want larger goals, fluorescent balls or a big flashing alarm that plays the theme from the A team every time someone scores.

I hate Sepp Blatter so much.

Thursday, April 22, 2004

Thu, 22 Apr 2004 10:25:09 GMT

SLICING UP EYEBALLS

Pixies to headline livid? ahhhhh. Sad pathetic fanboy I maybe, I may have bought all their albums after they broke up, blah blah blah who gives a flying fuck. It'd be more than worth going to livid, past the swarms of 14 year old punks, replete with ripped with school shirts and 'daring' marker pen slogans, all the fucktards, whoever, big deal, it's the fucking PIXIES.

And I'm spent.

Monday, April 19, 2004

Mon, 19 Apr 2004 03:31:38 GMT

PLANET OF SOUND

I don't usually cut and paste whole articles, because I don't usually post more than once every two months. But I'm still alive true believers!

via tinymixtapes

The Pixies

Fuck. Seriously. It's only been an hour since the show and I'm still trying to collect my thoughts. For tonight, I got to see the Pixies at the Fine Line Music Cafe in Minneapolis, MN. And boy do I feel lucky. First off, this was the Pixies' first show in 12 years. Why Minneapolis? Your guess is as good as mine. Second, the venue holds only 700 people. So not only is it the smallest venue of the tour, but it'll most likely be one of the last times they ever play to such a small crowd. Third, while some people paid well over $300 for just one ticket to the show, I luckily spent only $25. Combine these three with the music and you got yourself a good ol' fashioned orgasm.

And orgasm I did. Not because my 'bone machine' was accidentally rubbing against the person in front of me, but because I was blown away by their performance. It was all pretty surreal. Even when they first stumbled on stage, I couldn't believe I was seeing the Pixies. Like a lot of their current fans, I was young when the Pixies released their last full-length, Trompe le Monde. Instead of worrying about getting the album on its release date, I was more concerned with what people thought of my new eyeglasses. Consequently, I never really got to experience the Pixies while they were still an active band. Until tonight, of course.

The million dollar question before the show was: "What song do you think they'll open with?" Pretty much everyone I talked to thought "Debaser." You should've seen the look on our ugly faces when they busted right into "Bone Machine," probably the most appropriate song they could've started the show with, in retrospect. Needless to say, the crowd went absolutely nuts. Never have I seen such smiling faces at a show before. Aside from a jerk or two, the whole crowd was respectful of one another, showing their enthusiasm without ruining it for everyone else, screaming the lyrics to just about every song.

Although I've seen live photos of the band, I've never seen video of them playing before. So it was a nice treat to see their special blend of rock music actually performed live. Surprisingly, Frank Black was more animated than I was led to believe; Kim Deal had a huge smile on her face for nearly the entire time; Joey Santiago played his dissonant riffs with conviction and precision; and David Lovering pounded on the drums as if to make up for the past 12 years. And the sound was amazing. The Fine Line did a fantastic job at balancing the guitars and vocals with the bass and drums, which only enhanced the experience.

Without giving away too much of the setlist, the band played such classics as "Wave of Mutilation," "Broken Face," "Gouge Away," "Where Is My Mind," "I'm Amazed," "Monkey Gone to Heaven," and some special treats here and there. The standout song, however, was definitely "Debaser." At the beginning of the show, the Pixies seemed pretty shocked at the overwhelming reception they received, but this all faded away once Kim started playing the opening bassline to "Debaser." Played about halfway into the set, "Debaser" somehow managed to get the crowd even wilder than before. They played "Tame" afterward and went on to do some more tracks from each release, maintaining the intensity for the remainder of their set. They also had an extended encore, where they played songs such as "Velouria" and the slow version of "Wave of Mutilation."

A lot has happened to music in the past 12 years: grunge, alternative, techno, boy-bands, jock rock, Napster, RIAA, TRL -- to name just a handful. But tonight, it was as if the past 12 years never even happened. We were all transported back in time, experiencing one of the most influential bands in rock history, performing the songs we've been air-drumming to since we first fell in love with Surfer Rosa. Although it would've been great to hear songs like "I Bleed" and "Mr. Grieves," I couldn't have asked for a more perfect setlist. Because, in all fairness, it would've been nice to hear just about any song they've ever made. So I have no complaints whatsoever. Admittedly, I was a bit apprehensive about this whole reunion; although I was certainly excited for it, I couldn't help but think they had more to lose than to gain. But after this concert, it seems silly to even try to ponder the reason for the reunion. The Pixies just played a near-flawless set of music to a crowd that showed just how much their music has meant to them over the years. I couldn't think of a better reason for a reunion.

Thursday, April 08, 2004

Thu, 08 Apr 2004 01:03:50 GMT

THINGS YOU'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO DO

...

Man charged with fatally kicking dog like a football

NASHVILLE, Tennessee (AP) -- A man was arrested on charges of killing his neighbor's 17-year-old dog by place-kicking it like a football.

Chad Daniel Crawford, 23, was charged with cruelty to animals and vandalism Tuesday in the death of Gizmo, a 2-pound miniature Yorkshire terrier. Crawford was freed on $25,000 bail.

Jalani Lewis said he was in his apartment complex when he saw one of three men holding the dog like a football and then saw Crawford kick the animal.

Lewis said the dog flew through the air in a high arc, hit the pavement and rolled under a parked car. The dog was apparently dead when it hit the ground and the men were laughing, Lewis said.

Crawford said the accusations were false but declined further comment.

. . .

Check out the picture in the link