Mike Judge has a new movie out, “Idiocracy,” and no one seems to know about it. Apparently it has slipped under the radar due to issues with poor early screening ratings, delays and civil suits. Can’t find a trailer anywhere.
A perfectly cast Luke Wilson stars as a quintessential everyman who hibernates for centuries and wakes up in a society so degraded by insipid popular culture, crass consumerism, and rampant anti-intellectualism that he qualifies as the smartest man in the world. Corporations cater even more unashamedly to the primal needs of the lowest common denominator—Starbucks now traffics in handjobs as well as lattes—and the English language has devolved into a hilarious patois of hillbilly, Ebonics, and slang.
Boing-Boing posted a link to this story of revenge taken on a 419 (Nigerian email) scammer. Hilariously excellent stuff, well worth a skim through.
This has renewed my interest in getting back at the Girl Scout impostors that robbed me a few months ago. Oh, I’ll get them. Just you wait.
Recently employing the power of ironic advertising for this website (which has to date yielded a net $1.60), I do like the idea of guerrilla advertising, but only with escape option, as opposed to the captive audience assault. It should be a crime to make folks who pay ridiculous movie ticket prices sit through ads, as we have all complained about at one time or another. But what if the methods were more spontaneous and creative, say a street troupe of mimes busting into a Starbucks to do some little routine for earplugs or a toothbrush or the NYT or something? Or some streaker jets across Turner Field with a banner advertising an upcoming IKEA sale? You would be startled, you’d laugh, you could just leave, or best of all, you could heckle them. Businesses are already paying to advertise on gimmick sites, and by way of tattoo on idiots. I see this as the next wave. Today’s singing telegram dude will be tomorrow’s guerrilla ad-man.
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Pollen & Mold Count Detail
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Trees
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1. Pine Family with air bladders: 7
2. Hickory, Pecan: 4
3. All identified tree pollen not counted elsewhere: 2
4. Walnut, Butternut: 1
5. Sycamore, Plane-tree: 1
Damn you, Butternut. You’ve won the battle, but not the war.
I knew it. Talent, it turns out, is completely overrated. I’ve always been a big fan of talentlessly hacking one’s way through the forest of life, and now I feel better knowing that those who may seem innately superior, are just better hacks. Practice kids, because even if you think you suck, you may wake up one day to realize you don’t suck so bad.
After Helmond I went into a slump. Anyone who has played music on a stage knows how variable the sound can be: it is truly a mysterious nearly untamable beast. You never know how to get it right but you certainly know when it is off. And curious thing when the drummer has an off night, no one much notices, except the drummer. I’m used to that fact, but cannot shake the doldrums depression and futile anger that follows a bad performance. It stays with you, it makes you want to pack it all in. The slump lasts through Gronigen and Harleem, but I finally shake it back in Belgium at a smaller club in Hoogsatraten. Show is packed and I feel worthy of the rock for a change. Technically I think it might have been the best show yet, although Leuven was also great. There are also a lot of young people here, which is good to see because if you want to keep playing the kids gots to dig it… Talked to a dude that heard our interview on Studio Brussels, happy to hear that it had been played.
Queen’s Day we were in Sittard at the Fenix. Not much doing on this holiday. Apparently everyone goes to Amsterdam or a bigger city to celebrate. The show goes off very well though, even though it is another small audience. Then we head back to the Twin Peaksy “Hotel Brand Taveerne” where we find quite a lively freak scene of kareoke going on. Unfortunately our rooms are directly above the noise and smoke.
It is now about an hour until showtime at Lommel, a big free festival that we are headlining. An AC/DC cover band that goes on before us is supposed to be amazing.
More later. Blogging from the blackberry aint so easy…
Helmond translates to “hell mouth,” and it is here that we are to play our forth show, which is shaky from the get-go as a couple of days before there is some problem with ticket pre-sales, and opening acts. Whatever, it doesn’t seem to big of a deal when we get there. The excited receptionist at the hotel warns that Helmond is a sketchy town full of gypsy thieves and 24/7 party people. After walking around town I can conclude that the only danger would be coming from a slightly mobile geriatric population. The club plato poppod!um is a boxy venue with what looks like good PA sound stuff to me (big boards, etc) and nasty dude graffiti in the dressing room. I think the place normally hosts the usual unknown pre-pubescent metal acts that germinate in towns with not much to do. Saga is playing here in a few weeks. In other words, perhaps not our scene…that’s all. But club personel are all super nice folks. To date it’s not exactly our most well populated show, but the sound on stage was great and I think we played really well. The crowd was super and I have to give a shout out to the 3 dudes that drove from Germany. Good times. I was just on Flickr and happened to come across pictures that Linda’s friend Marleen took of the show. She designed our rad t-shirts. On the way back we stopped and I picked up Hamkas, my favorite Dutch snack (ham flavored puffy things). Scott ate some smelly sausage log.
We sleep at the Novotel and head to Nijmegen today for our only day off. Two days in one hotel is looking like luxury at this point. Nijmegen, which is the oldest city in the Netherlands (2000 years old!), is lively and pretty spread out. This is also the hometown of Eddie and Alex Van Halen. We hit the downtown area, which is very pedestrian and shopping friendly, and get lunch (bacon pancakes for me, mmmmm….) then split up. I wander around taking photos. There are markets, the river Waal, a Casino, kids playing in water fountains that shoot up via jets in some of the cobblestoned areas (kids love that.) The Magnapop show is advertised in the record stores and this is a pretty decent sized city so I get a good feeling about the show. We are playing with Roosbeef, who we played with once last year.
Hung out yesterday in Leuven to see the sights. Walked around the markets, had a waffle, pondered the abstact statues, and drank koffie. Hit the road about 3 for Repmond Rock, outdoor tent festival in the quaint village of Repmond. There are castle tower remains on site. We are backstage in the lofty attic of a barnish mill type place that is actually some sort of museum for grain grinding devices. Have dinner in the tent with the other Belgian bands, lots of casseroles and nice cakes including tiramisu for desert. Maes beer and assorted chocolates backstage. We go on to a really good crowd of 2,000 or so people. They are recording the performance and there is a videographer on the left side of the drum riser making me very nervous. He is there the entire show more or less. I think about metal drummers and all the hilarious faces and stick twirls. I slightly regret that I never learned any of that, or have the personality to pull it off. After a while I forget the cameras and even escape to that magical thoughtless zone a couple of times. That’s what it’s all about for me. After the show the 3 little fresh faced, shaggy headed kids of one of the guys working the show want us to autograph their festival shirts. Its perhaps the most endearing thing I’ve ever experienced….and I don’t think of myself as very susceptible to that crap. They smile shyly and wave whenever I walk by. I want to stay for Les Truttes, as I am told it’s quite a party, but the band votes to drive back to the hotel which is some miles away.
Arriving in Amsterdam via Aer Lingus, I am hungry and hit Vlaamse Frites for a smaak of frites n’ mayonaise. Mmmmm, greasy goodness. I take the shuttle to town and meet up with the crew at Canal View hotel, which is in the Rembrandtplein. Rooms are basic but adequate, right off a canal. We eat Indian with Roald and Marit, and call it a night.
Deventer is a bigger place than I had imagined, though I have no business imagining places I have never been to, do I? Hotel in the “old town” is nice, basic good beds. We are off the main cobblestoned and churched plaza. We load in at Het Burgerweeshuis, which used to be an orphan house. It’s an ample sized venue, w/ DJ pulpit and backstage with shower. Maybe slightly bigger than the EARL for you ATL folks. The usual snacks abound, Bros chocolates, gummy candies, cucumber and cheese sandwhiches, coffee. Soundcheck is the first so we take our sweet time with setting up. Dinner is fried trout and pasta, cooked and served by the club. Show goes off fine although it isn’t quite sold out.
Leuven the next night is in a bigger place, 450 capacity at the Het Depot. It’s got great acoustics and the sound on stage during soundcheck is stellar. Makes all the difference in the world. Show goes off without a hitch and is one of the best to date. I think it is nearly sold out. Afterwards we drink
Stella (this is the Stella brewery town) in a club next door and watch a few people dance.
After a couple of busy weeks, including but not limited to, a car window busted out, L5 (one of my bands) calling it quits, and a full on spring pollen beat down (alas, the real-time corporeal counterpart to existential sufferings), I make it to the airport in plenty of time despite having to cab it after a feeble announcement through the body-humid subbteranean atmosphere of marta that the soutbound train would be experiencing “delays” due to “mechanical failures.”
Next up, Dublin.
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