random item tuesday

1. I have recently discovered the comedic genius of Irish stand up comedian, Dylan Moran ( also the star of the BBC series Black Books) and I am insanely jealous of the man’s talents. His style of humor is just like mine, dark and brutally honest. Except that when he does his thing. he comes across as witty and charming, but when I do my thing, I come across as an total fucking asshole. How does he pull it off? I’d like to know.

2. Speaking of assholes, yesterday morning at work, one of my coworkers entered the work shop walking funny and complaining that his ass cheeks hurt. Normally, I would just chuckle to myself and not press the issue any further, because sometimes ignorance is the best course of action. But my coworker kept on talking about his aching behind. The reason behind his posterior pains? Playing baseball.

Now, if you are a regular reader of this website, you will know my views and opinions about sports. Yeah, I know I always said that I think baseball is kinda gay, but I meant that the term “gay” in a harmful school yard insult sort of way, and not in the literal sense. Guess I was wrong.

3. If you ever have to call a repair man, it doesn’t matter if it’s to fix your ac, plumbing, tv, ect. and you know well enough in advance that the repair person is coming to your house, please make some sort of effort to tidy your home up. I swear, you people live in worse conditions than animals on a third world nation farm. Do you folks have no shame? I been inside million dollar homes of upstanding citizenry and they live as if they run a 19th century Chinese opium den. But on the other hand, I’ve been inside of some shady looking homes and they have been immaculate inside. This makes no sense.

While we are on the topic of tidying your home for the repair person, if the repair person has to enter your attic, crawl space, basement, or whatever to do their job, please clean your clutter out of their way and don’t get all uptight like he or she is plotting to steal something if they have to move your meaningless shit out of their way to do their job. (Yes, I really do want your box of Christmas decorations that you haven’t used since 1987. They look SO appealing to me that I just can’t resist taking them home…  I mean, really!) I wish on thee a life of extreme boredom and tedium. Yes, there is a fate worse than death, and that happens to be it.

jareddriskill

“my summer break ‘00″

I happen to like walking around on campus a few days just after a semester ends. I can never get over the fact that what was only a few days before, a bustling metropolis full of youth and expectations, has now become a deserted ghost town. The echoes my footsteps make when I walk around the quad stir up a faint fear in me, for they are the sounds of the ghostd ghosts of the crushed dreams and aspirations that have been ruined by yet another semester of those timeless youthful mistakes of not studying and letting your responsibilities slide. Will the youth ever learn? Oh wait, that’s what they came here for.

In my wanderings, out of the corner of my eye, I had spied that the door to one of the lecture halls was left open, as if it was beckoning for me to enter. I just couldn’t resist the temptation because, I mean, when will another opportunity to explore this ghost town in depth like this would ever present itself to me again?

It took me a minute or so for my eyes to adjust to the darkness inside, but once my vision acclimated to the darkness, I recognized the interior of the building immediately: it was Owen Hall. I only had one class in Owen Hall, The History of Architecture, back in the fall semester of my sophomore year. Room 212, if I recall correctly.

Morbid curiosity had gotten the best to me as I wandered around Owen Hall for a few minutes until I found the right room, ( it was 213, I was close) entered, closed the door behind me and sat in the exact same desk I used to sit in ( aisle seat, center section, third row from the back) and I was instantly transported back to the time when I had endured Professor Brown’s boring lectures about neo roman architecture  3 times a week because Lisa sat, two rows down to my left.  Out of habit, I looked down to where she used to sit and I could still see the back of her head, her hair still golden from nostalgia. (I was such a fool to never have told her about how I felt about her before she dropped out of Walford University and went back home to Kansas.)

I must’ve sat there for awhile, because the next thing I knew, I had the sudden realization that I had just nodded off and woken up. I figured that was the best time for me to get up to leave. But when I went to the door, the door knob broke off in my hand, effectually trapping me inside the class room. I laughed to myself about the absurdity of the situation and I figured that I had better start thinking of a good excuse for trespassing and getting myself locked inside of the classrooms when somebody eventually finds me and lets me out. (I mean someone is coming, right? A member janitorial staff, perhaps. Surely he or she might understand and I won’t get into too much trouble, right? ….Right?)

(please note: they found my dead body 3 months later, right before fall classes started.)

week 15

Two bits of business before I review this weeks fantastical episode from that highly forgettable year, 1981.

1: I think I figured out why, finally, the reason behind the crooked “R” in the neon Soul Train logo that hangs above the set. You see, the T in the logo is a capital “T” and the “R’ that succeeds it is a stylized rounded lowercase “R.” So, the top left section of the “R” gives the optical illusion of the entire letter being crooked. Or… it could just be shoddy workmanship.

2: I was cleaning up my room in a half drunken state earlier last night and I found out that if I folded my futon into the sofa position and re-arranged a few items in my room, I could clear out a 5 by 6 foot space in front of my tv, thus creating my very own dance floor to dance along to Soul Train too! (Hell yes!) The only problem I had with it is that it was very difficult to take notes of the show while I was dancing. It was hard work, yes, but I am dedicated to giving you, my faithful readers, the weekly Best Of Soul Train report. So it was well worth the perceived hassle.

In this week’s episode, the Soul Train Dancers, including a guy who looked like Todd Bridges from Different Strokes wearing a gold and black sequined head band, got funky along to “Work That Sucker to Death” by Xavier, “You’re The One For Me” by E Train and “Genius Of Love” by The Tom Tom Club. (During this particular song, one Soul Train Dancer did his dance moves while simultaneously spinning a basketball. Impressive.)

Soul Train Scramble Board:  The two Soul Train Dancers chosen for the Scramble Board this week had difficult time deciphering “Ralph Sampson” while the rest of the crew danced on to Prince’s “Let’s Work.”

This weeks musical guests:

Ray Parker Jr! This episode was shown several years before his smash hit with the theme to the Ghostbusters movie and it proved that the man deserves to be more than a “One Hit Wonder” in my eyes. I must concede after watching his performance, that Ray Parker Jr is one hell of an entertainer- miming away on his Sunburst colored Gibson guitar clone to two of his songs, “I’m In Love With The Other Woman” and “Street Love.” Though the lyrical content of both of these songs might offer a clue on why his career probably faltered after”Ghostbusters.” The first song is about how he loves the woman who he having affair with than the one he’s in a relationship in and the second was about seeing prostitutes because his main squeeze bores him in bed.

Sister Sledge. Lots of sequined flowing robes and bad perms were on order for the family Sledge this week as they performed a wonderful cover of the Mary Wells song, “My Guy.” The second song was a overblown duet between one of the Sisters and some dude I never heard or seen before called “You Fill Me Up.” Beautiful.

The Soul Train History Book:  A early to mid 1970’s clip of Smokey Robinson singing a song called, I believe, “So Close.” I have to admit I never the heard this song before in my life but I’d like to know the title of it, so I can buy the album that it’s on.

The Soul Train Line: “Let It Rip.” I think this is the title of the song, you know I have heard this song a thousand times before in my life but I have never once associated an title or an artist to it. That is why I am glad for you, my faithful readers, whose knowledge of late 70’s early 80’s R&B and Soul is vastly superior to my own. Your comments and personal e-mails are much appreciated. Thank you.

The Don Cornelius Interview Gaff of the week.  Don was bad host this week and fumbled both interviews with the musical guests. With Sister Sledge, he was congratulating several members of the group who just had children,  when one of the girls said something to the effect like “I don’t have any children yet.” Then Don blurts out “I think I can handle that!” I’m sure you can, Don, I’m sure you can. But what would your wife think?

With Ray Parker Jr, Don made the comment “I thought I was dreaming that you were doing several Elvis Presley moves there.” I thought that was funny because according to Chuck D of Public Enemy, Elvis Presley got famous for ripping off black artists. If this is the case, then Ray Parker Jr was only claiming what was rightfully his.

That ought to do it for a little while, so on behalf of Don Cornelius, The Soul Train Dancers, my new found bedroom dance floor and myself: love, peace and SOUL!

jareddriskill

my life is a steady stream of increasingly crushing disappointments

Talk To Me/ starring Don Cheadle

Although now it feels like that I wrote it years ago, but it was just only the other day when I was bemoaning the fact that things were looking up for jareddriskill and how I lacked the social skills/self esteem to handle it. ( Please see the post entitled: “More Tragic Narcissism.”) Boy, I was quite foolish to assume that anything would go good for me for any long period of time because my life has quickly reverted back to it’s normal, dour self.

The downturn occurred this past Friday afternoon when I had just triumphantly finished a grueling summertime temporary promotion at work that I had only accepted because I have nothing but respect for my employers. To celebrate the glory that is the end of my unwanted promotion, I decided that the next best thing to getting blindingly drunk was to go see the new Don Cheadle film, “Talk To Me,” and review it later for my website. The commercials for “Talk To Me,” had been heavily advertised during The Best of Soul Train for the past several weeks, and they had made the film look mildly interesting. The plot, from what I understand, to “Talk To Me” revolves around Don Cheadle ( who eerily looks like one time SNL cast member, Tim Meadows) who plays a 1970’s radio dj/ tv show host who was tough talking and controversial for his time. This sounds like a movie that I was purposefully placed on this earth to watch, so what could possibly go wrong?

So imagine my crushing disappointment when I had checked the movie listings, only to find that “Talk To Me” is not playing anywhere in the entire Richmond, Virginia metro area! It seems that every movie theater in the area is showing nothing but multiple screenings of the Simpsons movie and that remake of Hairspray.

Why!?! Why is this so? I haven’t watched a full episode of The Simpsons on tv in several years,  so I’m hardly going to pay hard earned money to watch, in what seems to me, an extra long episode. (Don’t worry, I’m sure FOX will make a big deal and debut the movie on FOX television within 2 years.) As for the remake of Hairspray, I have absolutely zero desire to see anything John Travolta stars in, much less any movie where he plays a fat woman. To me, that just seems like a whole bunch of Scientology faggotry. So, with dire offerings such as these, a movie about a tough talking 1970’s radio dj would’ve have been most welcoming.

Jesus, I don’t why I even bother getting out of bed anymore…

jareddriskill

more tragic narcissism

I can feel the icy fingers of death gently caressing my mortal flesh. Things have been looking up for old jareddriskill in the last few weeks, so naturally this makes me very suspicious.  (I was one who could never handle praise and complements because I’m so used to being trod upon and forgotten.) Is my life happy at the present moment because god, in his infinite wisdom, has decided to end my life shortly?

I sure hope not, because I’ve always expected to die just as miserable as ever and I would be disappointed in heaven if I died happy. And to quote those professors of truth, Depeche Mode: “I don’t want to start any blasphemous rumors, but I think god has a sick sense of humor. When I die, I expect to find him laughing.”

In all actuality, I would only be disappointed with heaven if it was nothing like Soul Train…  If Jesus is a black man like they say, then god has to look like Don Cornelius. sigh.

So, whenever I leave this mortal coil, be it a few moments from now or several decades, would you think kindly of me in hindsight, that is, if you would ever think of me at all?

jareddriskill

Danzig, Manic Street Preachers, Shellac

In my last round of album reviews, I had bemoaned the fact that I could not find three new albums that were worth buying, much less reviewing. The fates must’ve heard my plaintive cry, because sure enough, this group of albums were released in rapid succession shortly after I finished my last set of album reviews. Will my luck continue? If so, will my wallet be able to handle it?

1.Danzig/The Lost Tracks Of…/Evilive Records.

This 2 cd set came as a complete surprise because Danzig had first announced this collection of B-sides, demos and unreleased tracks since the late 1990’s and I had long since given up the hope that it would ever be released years ago. You know, it was weird in a way walking into a record shop and unexpectedly seeing “The Lost Tracks” just setting there on the shelf. It was like suddenly remembering the name of your next door neighbor’s second cousin, whom you only met once back in the first grade. But hey, after (finally) listening to the Lost Tracks of the second greatest metal singer of all time (after Ronnie James Dio, natch) I think it was well worth the wait.

However… I can humbly offer few minor complaints about this 2 set cd like, instead of a lyric sheet, Danzig wrote a short paragraph or two about the story behind the song, which was interesting, but there was enough room in the accompanying over sized booklet to also include a lyric sheet. That’s just fucking sloppy. Also, it seems that rather than to pay his ex-band mates any royalty fees, Danzig went into the studio and re-recorded several, if not most, of the instrumental tracks. That, to me, seems like a severely cheap and petty thing to do. But hey, he’s fucking Danzig, who am I to question his actions? Please forgive me of my transgressions against you, ol’ dark one!

Now with the “Lost Tracks” finally on the market, when will Danzig get around to releasing that satanic blues album with Jerry Cantrell (of Alice In Chains fame) that he’s been talking about for what seems like forever…

2. Manic Street Preachers/Send Away The Tigers/Columbia Records ( Argentina.)

It’s lamentable that some of my favorite britpop bands have poor domestic (US) record distrobution. This album came out in the UK back in early May, but wasn’t released in the US until late July. But thanks to the wonder of the internet, I was able to procure a new copy from Argentina for 8 bucks (!) many weeks before the US release date. I know, I shouldn’t complain too much about a US release, because The Manics last full length album, Lifesblood, didn’t even get a US release and this fact still boils me to this very day. (Grrr!)

I have to say, the bands gambit of self imposed exile while it’s members went off to do their own solo projects, actually did not break up the group. (As we all know, the “we’re taking a break while we explore solo projects” is usually an indicator of a group breaking up.) The Manics are back, refreshed, refocused and with “Send Away the Tigers,” they wrote their best album in over ten years. Imagine the dark nihilism and socialist sloganeering of “The Holy Bible” album crossed with the fragile pop sensibility of the “Every Thing Must Go.” This album is just… breathtaking. There is nothing more I can say that can add to topic, so I won’t bother.

(On a side note: if anyone can tell me where I can get a copy of bassist Nicky Wire’s solo album, please inform a brothah. Like quick!)

3. Shellac/Excellent Italian Greyhound/Touch and Go Records.

When this album was released, I was in a great quandary. I went to the record shop and went over to the “S” section and saw this album. However, I happened to glance slightly to my right and saw that my local record shop had finally reduced their exorbitant price on their imported copy of The Sisters of Mercy greatest hits album, “A Slight Case Of Overbombing.” I only had enough money in my budget that week to buy one cd, so it either had to be the new Shellac or an old copy of the Sisters of Mercy.

On one hand, the Shellac album represents a brand new album for me to review on my website, but I fucking love The Sisters of Mercy. What to do? What to do… ( I sure hate these pesky moral dilemmas.) So I did what any other reasonable person would do, I bought the Sisters of Mercy cd and decided that I would come back the next week to buy the new Shellac album because the record store had 20 copies on the shelf instead of the one Sisters of Mercy. (Scarcity is the driving force behind economics, you know.)

So fast forward a week later and I have just procured a copy of the new Shellac album from the 18 copies that were still available at my local record shop. “And…” you ask? Well, it was everything that I had expected it to sound like. You have a couple of meandering and pointless 8 minute long tracks where nothing happens except you skipping on over to the next track. A couple of fast paced rocking numbers and a couple of songs that begins with the band noodling and experimenting in the studio. Oh yes, how can we forget that the drums are recorded loud and up front in the mix, and that the recording quality is so clear and precise, you can hear the grass growing outside the recording studio? But seeing how it is Shellac, this means I truly love this album! (That’s funny, because if they were anybody else, I would loathe them to death.)

jareddriskill

random item tuesday

1. I purchased a used copy of Badmotorfinger by Soundgarden this past Sunday because I realized I haven’t heard that particular album since my old  bootleg cassette dub melted down over 12 odd years ago. (That and I had an sado-masochist urge to relive those awful high school days.)  Good lord man, I had forgotten what a kick ass rock album Badmotorfinger was! It straight up took me by surprise that it still sounds relevant in this day and age. I had to pull my vehicle on the side of the road and listen to the album straight through because the guitar riffs were just TOO HEAVY for me to comprehend.

It’s a shame that Soundgarden turned to shit right after Badmotorfinger was made. The Superunknown album was a weak follow up, and I didn’t even bother buying their last album because I had a gut feeling that it would “totally suck.” My friend, “The Man,” blames Soundgarden’s downfall on the fact that singer Chris Cornell married their manager, Susan Silver, and she convinced him to aim for a solo career and forget about the band. Me? I just think that Badmotorfinger was such a great album, that the band just could not live up to its sheer genius.

2. Yes, being a citizen of the state of Virginia, I guess I have to put my 2 cents on the whole Michael Vick dogfighting thing. I think it’s fucking hilarious. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think it was funny that he condoned the fact that he had dogs fight for sport on his property and that he brutally killed them when they didn’t perform well. The thing that really tickles my funny bone was that when he was playing football for Virginia Tech, the local media treated the man like he was god.  When Virgina Tech won a game, it was”Michael Vick this and Michael Vick that.” Nevermind the fact that he had a whole squad of players and coaches to help him win games, they just simply didn’t exist in the eyes of the local media.  I don’t even follow sports but even I was tired of hearing about how awesome Michael Vick was and I wished nothing but bad luck on him ever since.

So, when he went to the NFL to “revolutionize the game,” and got paid millions and millions of dollars, he chose not to blow all of his newfound fortune on “bling” or invest in business deals to make his money work for him. Instead… he decided to run a dog fighting ring. That logic just blows my mind. I mean, what the fuck he was thinking? Now his career is finished and I am now satisfied because one of my numerous enemies has been vanquished for good.

3. Today at work, I overheard somebody say the word “reckon” …and he wasn’t impersonating Mark Twain or reading a Mark Twain novel out loud.(!) I have never in my life heard somebody that has used that word in their day to day vocabulary. I thought “reckon” went out of fashion along with hoop skirts, black and white television and the internet. I guess I am wrong. Please forgive me.

jareddriskill

“brent loses his keys 3″

October, 1998. A Thursday around 3:15 pm:

Where did Brent’s life go wrong? Brent never thought he would have a wage slave, data entry job six months after getting his bachelors degree in film critique at Walford Community College, but don;t you know it, there he was.

Sure, Brent can tell you, in great detail, about all the technical flaws in Citizen Kane, but there is little or no job market for that particular set of skills. “Why would a college offer a 4 year degree in something so completely useless in the first place?” Brent thought to himself everyday has he clocked in for yet another uneventful day. The only possible answer Brent could think of is that somebody HAS to enter the dead end, soul destroying field of data entry and the only way they can get people to enter data entry is to trick them into getting useless college degrees.  (Brent just knew he should’ve majored in something “useful” like, I dunno, computer programming or anal sex…)

At least his cubicle was the one located next to the window. But the majority of Brent’s view was that of an identical office building that was separated from the one he was in only by a crowded parking lot and minimal, dead landscaping. Oftentimes he would stare out the window hours for on end and pretended that there was another bored employee in the building across the way and that he (or she)  was looking out towards the building that he was in and praying, like he did, for the day where he would leave his shitty jobs and these light grey cubicles once and forever.

Lord Jesus can forgive us of our sins, but on judgement day, but will Brent find it in his heart to forgive HIM for putting him through the ordeal of having to do data entry?

Brent took a brief look at the stack of forms waiting for him to enter into his computer, but he decided to go to the water cooler for the 50th time that day instead.  As he walked his way through the rows of identical cubicles, Brent noticed that something was different in his gait. No, a nuclear bomb did not go off, as he hoped and thus, ending his miserable existence, but that reassuring weight of his keys in his front left pants pocket was no longer there. A mild panic rushed through Brent’s body as he reached into his left pocket only to find nothing. He then checked all his pockets: right front,  then back pockets and even that most improbable of locations, the breast pocket on his white button up shirt. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

“I’m sure that they fell out of my pocket while I was sitting in my cubicle playing tetris instead of doing my paper work.” Brent said out loud to no one in particular. Sure, it would be a simple thing to go back and check, but out of the corner of his eye he spied the fire exit.  Brent knew then that he was at a major pivotal moment in his life: he could go and search for his keys in the cubicle and continue his wretched data entry existence or he could walk out that fire exit and make his prayers come true…

jareddriskill

week 14

I was unusually tired in preparation of this weeks episode, I suppose it was because I usually spend my Saturdays keeping busy running errands, but this week I had finished early and spent most of the day being listless. For me, doing nothing is more tiring than being extra busy, though you would think the opposite would be the truth.

Yes, the “r” in the neon Soul Train logo in the studio was still crooked looking in this weeks episode from 1981, a year famous for nothing except that it happened to exist 26 years ago. Lots of leg warmers and red and pink clothing being worn by the Soul Train Dancers because they were “hot,” and by hot, I don’t mean sexy. ( Please take a moment to let this joke register.) Because I was tired, the only song I recognized that the Soul Train Dancers grooved it on down to this week was “Take It To The Top” by Kool and The Gang.

Soul Train Scramble Board: Roberta Flack! While the Soul Train Dancers showed off their moves to a song called “Paradise” by a group called either Chains or Change. I couldn’t quite catch it because Don Cornelius muttered it under his breath.

The Soul Train Flash Back: A clip from the early to mid 1970’s of a James Brown clone called Joe Chase, I believe. His performance of his song “Give It Here’” was very energetic complete with microphone stand gymnastics. It must’ve been seen to be believed, for I cannot do his wonderful performance any justice in mere words.

This weeks musical guests:

Parliament: This group featured 3 members of the band who were left out of the cold when George Clinton had changed the group into Funkadelic in the 1970’s. With their badly made sci-fi/superhero costumes and the funkiest songs to ever beam down from the mothership, one could hardly tell the difference.

Betty Wright: She snag songs in a vague-ish late 1970’s disco style complete with the “tisk tisk tisk” hi hat cymbal fills during the choruses that were out of fashion long before 1981. No wonder her career floundered. During her interview with Don Cornelius, she said Stevie Wonder wrote and produced her songs, all I can say that it must’ve been done on one of his off days because I didn’t think Stevie Wonder was capable of writing material that was so completely and utterly forgettable…

The Soul Train Line: I recognized the song, “Give It to Me,” because it played constantly on the local oldies radio station here in Richmond, but I come completely to a blank on who the artist is at the moment. Me be so tired…

The Don Cornelius interview gaff of the week: “We hope good things continue to happen to you, Betty.” Well, I thought it was funny because Betty Wright’s career tanked after this episode of Soul Train.

Well, that just did it for this week! As always, on the behalf of Don Cornelius and the Soul Train Dancers, I wish you love, peace and SOUL!

jareddriskill

the crestfallen

Sing Along A Abba/ Landmark Theater/ Friday, July 20, 2007/Richmond, Virginia

I know I haven’t done my job LATELY and gone to any concerts or musical events to review for you, my faithful readers. But I had just gotten tired of going to hardcore punk rock/ metal shows because the last couple I went to just seemed to run into each other and the fact that every concert in Richmond seems to be of the hardcore punk rock/ metal variety, I felt that a break was in order.

But… as fate would have it, I randomly found out about The Sing Along ABBA concert last week in the newspaper and I knew, deep down, that going to see Sing Along ABBA would be a change of pace and that I could also allow my inner Alan Partridge to have a moment to shine. A-ha! ( That’s an inside Alan Partridge joke for those of you who don’t know.)

So I spent an entire week using this concert as an cheap excuse to listen to my ABBA cd collection. ( I already know all the lyrics, but my roommates don’t know that I already know them. Shhh! Please don’t say a word about it to them.) I even convinced a lady friend of mine to go along with me just so I could place the blame of going to the concert on her if anyone saw me there and questioned my manhood.

My plan was perfect and the execution was flawless until my escort and I arrived at the Landmark Theater on the night in question only to find that the concert was canceled at the last moment due to low ticket sales. Curses! All my hard work gone to waste! (Yelling at god as I shake my fist furtively in the air:) Fuck! You always gotta ruin everything for me!

After that, there was nothing left to do but to go to Penny Lane Pub to drink my disappointment away with several pints of Snakebite with Black Currant. As we walked in, the PA system at Penny Lane was playing “Take A Chance On Me.” I muttered to myself “That could’ve been me!” as I broke down and cried at the cruel, cruel irony. Oh Lord, what I have I done to deserve this fate and why must you mock me so?

jareddriskill