Friday, September 01, 2006

It's all quiet on the Western front here. Now since I'm one to usually break the silence, and the fact I've got nothing better to do a small public service announcement, if you will. And my message is: The Shadowplayers on DVD today!

Shadowplayers is a new DVD documentary showing the history of Factory records from 1978-1981. So we're talking Joy Division(for all you mad goths out there!) and early New Order, Cabaret Voltaire, ACR, Section 25 etc. The film is composed of interviews of the people in and around Factory records at the time, people like Tony Wilson, Peter Hook, Peter Saville and more, quite simply talking about almost every single thing of importance to happen between 1978-81, from the Factory sampler to the rise of Joy Division(and what happened after that) and beyond.

Now this film which obviously isn't a multi-million pound project, is very well done by LTM Recordings, who has released many(if not most) albums from bands that recorded on Factory before they went under in the early 90s - barring of course the really big stars, such as Joy Division/New Order and Happy Mondays. I totally recommended checking out the LTM catalogue as they have some awesome gems in there(Peter Hook's mid-New Order band Revenge for instance, which has a two disc re-release of their LP One True Passion, which includes so much extra stuff on it it's unbelievable. Okay I'll admit I've not picked it up yet, but I do have the original release which is great, more can only make it greater!)

I've finished plugging this film now, and sorry for the big spiel about it, but I just found this film fascinating and I figured some people who read this might not now about it and may enjoy it. You can pick it up at the LTM Recordings website at http://www.ltmrecordings.com as well as all of their currently pressed re-releases, or for a little less archaic ordering system you can also try the excellent Boomkat at http://www.boomkat.com (while you're there I suggest you pick up dubstep master Skream's newest double slab of vinyl Skreamism vol 2 and/or A Guy Called Geralds new album Proto-Acid: The Berlin Sessions for those who like their acid house style beats.) Peace!

- Ian (who again apologises for this advert.)

Sunday, July 23, 2006

On one hand it's sad people can't currently view masterforce.org but on the plus side, it's like the old MFO is back. I can ramble on about stuff that doesn't really matter and is completely incomprehensible to the average man(or woman). I mean sure I did it before it went offline, but you didn't have to read it then, that was in some journal thing off the main page(such a mistake if you ask me, I'm a front page hit everytime). Now everyone who comes here has to read it. And that makes me happy, like a child with ADD is with something shiny and new.

Well I would ramble on about something the now, but I have nowt to ramble about, other then I hope this time Gin hosts the site somewhere where we can get some really hardcore pornographic banner ads, that'll bring in the cold, hard cash I tell ya. Peace and love ya'll, peave and love.

- Ian

Friday, July 21, 2006

Poor Masterforce.org.

You may have noticed that the site has been effectively gone. Yeah, I lost my hosting for it. I've resurrected the old MFO blog and it's hosted on blogger, not on the MFO server, so this way at least -some- of the site is up.

I'm trying to find somewhere to host the whole thing, but for now, I guess this is better than nothing.

Sunday, May 01, 2005

So I've been professionally published on another website. Please check out my review of Sin City. Don't worry, I'm not abandoning Masterforce.org for the glitz and glamour of being paid a few dollars for an article. Actually, I've got something big coming for MFO soon, so hold your horses.

Saturday, April 30, 2005

Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is a schizophrenic film. It has some cerebral jokes full of dry British wit and sarcasm. However, the overwhelming majority of the film is just puerile, sterilized Hollywood tripe. Did you want to see goofy slapstick? Come on down! We've got faces being slapped and spaceships landing on crabs! Would you like a side of people making goofy faces? Maybe this would have entertained me when I was a toddler, but not now. Did you want the trite, formulaic Hollywood romance? Well, you got it! Arthur and the girl he blew it with are a lock from the start. Did you want phony looking CG effects? Hang on, because we've got a ton of them! Did you want a pointless feel-good ending? Well, you have that one, too! Would you like to see yet another rapper in place of an actual actor? Here's Mos Def! (Buy his new album!)



That's not to say the film is all tepid. There are a few good bits directly lifted from the books or radio show, and there are even a few original bits that are funny. Marvin's costume is nice, if more than a little reminiscent of the iMac, and they even have a great cameo by the original Marvin from the BBC's version of Hitchhiker's Guide. Furthermore, Jim Henson's Creature Shop does their usual stellar job on the aliens.



Unfortunately, despite the good things here, there are more serious problems than Hollywood clichés. The script is always in danger of falling apart, and there are some badly miscast characters.



Mos Def as alien friend Ford Prefect is obviously the easiest target: he seems completely lost and his character never comes together whatsoever. It appears he's meant to be a major player in the first 15 minutes or so of the movie, but he rapidly becomes a guy who just follows everyone around. He has zero character development, and the only time he does anything other than stand around is when he has an encounter with an irate ogre/ex-girlfriend. Why is he in this film? Just to get Arthur off the planet? He accomplishes absolutely nothing otherwise. Furthermore, why have dialogue about him pretending to be from a place in England when his accent is about as American as possible? He doesn't even offer us an Angelina Jolie-style fake British accent.



The next target is the patently unfunny Sam Rockwell as Zaphod Beeblebrox, egotistical president of the galaxy. I highly doubt the character description said, "drunken frat boy", but that's exactly what Rockwell brings to the role. Due to an apparently pointless side plot, Zaphod is promptly lobotomized and the rest of the movie is Rockwell falling on himself and gazing stupidly at things. Admittedly he has some poor lines to work with, but he delivers them with all the finesse of an angry elephant. He desperately wants to cram the point that he's stupid and useless down your throat.



Rounding out our trio is the completely generic Zooey Deschanel as Trillian, adventure-seeking scientist. Any woman in Hollywood could have played the role, as she brings absolutely nothing original to the part. Instantly forgettable. She accomplishes nothing more than being someone for Arthur to predictably win over and getting off a very sexist one-liner that manages to offend male and female alike.



John Malkovich does, well, not much of anything as Zaphod's one time rival for the galactic presidency Humma Kavula, in a completely pointless sequence expanded excruciatingly from a throw away joke in the books. Why is his character here? What's the point? They were going to the planet he sent them to anyway. They don't even return him the item they were sent to fetch. Why? Just to provide a convenient plot device to defeat the Vogons with?



Well, at least the cast isn't entirely awful. Martin Freeman is well cast as Arthur, the put upon Englishman who wants nothing more to return to his little home in the English countryside and have a cup of tea.



Alan Rickman also nails depressed robot Marvin perfectly, but it has to be said that it's not that hard to play "crushingly depressed". Warwick "Wicket The Ewok" Davis is adequate as the guy in Marvin's suit.



You can’t completely blame the actors, though. Part of the director’s job is to tell them what to do. Either rookie filmmaker Garth Jennings didn’t know how to control them, or actually spurned them on to greater and greater heights of unsubtle overacting, or in the case of Mos Def, non-acting. One could argue that overacting works great in comedies, but that’s only true of slapstick comedies like Ace Ventura, not ones focused on existentialist humor and playful language.



The cast and director aren't the only problems. As should be clear by now, the screenplay has some serious issues. First of all, the pacing is all off. Some parts drag on far too long (like the whole Humma sequence), and some fly by so quickly you have a hard time figuring out what they were supposed to be about. The plotting is haphazard and all over the place.



As previously mentioned, the entire subplot about bringing the Point of View gun to Humma is never resolved at all, the love story shudders to its totally obvious conclusion without developing in the least, and Arthur's character development is nonsensical and tacked on. The script waffles on whether Arthur is meant to be adventurous or not. If it takes him the whole movie to decide that a life of adventure is the right life for him, then why does he risk trying to rescue Trillian from the Vogons? If he has already overcome his timidness, why is it a big deal that he's decided to leave Earth at the end?



The script also has some glaring logic errors. Why would Slartibartfast and the people who built Earth just let them have the back up Earth if the mice were the ones paying for it and Arthur just killed the mice? And how could he kill them if they were just the extrusions of extradimensional aliens? Couldn’t they just extrude again? If they’re meant to be the prophets who were asking Deep Thought about the ultimate answer to life, the universe, and everything, they’ve clearly "died" before.



And maybe they already paid for the Earth, but the planet is still trapped in the factory and if they put it back where it was before, wont the Vogons just blow it up again? I mean, it's still going to be in the route of their hyperspace bypass. And speaking of the Vogons, how did they get down to planet Magrathea? Were they able to get by the planet's thermonuclear defense system? They didn't have Slartibartfast's magic cherry picker to take them through the gate to the factory or to the Earth. Did they fly their spaceship there? If so, where was it? And who was the woman with the Vogons the whole time? She seemed concerned about Zaphod -- was she meant to be an assistant or a wife or what? She is never explained at all.



And while I’m at it, how did Ford, Zaphod, and Trillian get to Arthur’s house? Why did their portal go there? What was the point? Just to setup the stupid brain drilling scene? You need a better reason than that! And wanting to get on talk shows and get rich a pretty thin reason to spend millions of years trying to find out great philosophical truths. And another logic problem: Slartibartfast says designer planets are an expensive luxury. Wouldn’t the mice already need to be rich to afford the planet? Doesn’t that mean they already had what they wanted? After all, millions of people turned out when they asked Deep Thought their question and got their reply.



Considering that the movie starts out well and knowing that Douglas Adams died during the long struggle to get this film off the ground, it's pretty obvious where screenwriter Karey Kirkpatrick steps in. Every lame, obvious joke is probably his. Every completely superfluous, poorly conceived scene is probably his. But I guess we shouldn't be expecting much from him. He penned The Rescuers Down Under, the embarrassing sequel to the forgotten 80's cartoon. He also wrote James and the Giant Peach, Henry Selick's limp follow-up to The Nightmare Before Christmas. And finally, he wrote Honey, We Shrunk Ourselves, one of several doddering sequels to the not very good to begin with Honey, I Shrunk the Kids. And you can rest easy knowing that he has written probably awful remakes of the classics Charlotte’s Web and Curious George, due in 2006. Consider another career, Kirkpatrick. Even if the fault were entirely Adams' (which I doubt), the screenplay is still a mess.



What is going on with this movie? If you stop to think about it at all, it just falls apart. I recognize that this is intended to be a comedy and that comedies do not need to be inherently logical, but this film is not even consistent.



There are also several jokes completely botched by poor delivery (as when Mos Def mumbles them almost inaudibly) and for a film obsessed with having everyone run around and changing locations rapidly, it still manages to drag on.



This movie is similar in spirit and wit to Dude, Where's My Car?, a true disservice to Douglas Adams' clever sarcasm and utterly British sense of humor. Disney, you have done a great job of siphoning all of the quirkiness and intelligence that made Hitchhiker's Guide worthwhile to begin with. The way almost every trace of its British origin is stamped out is nothing less than insulting. This film is to British humor and sci-fi what Kung Pow is to Hong Kong's kung fu movies. It does its best to ridicule its source for not being American while simultaneously misrepresenting its finer points.



I don’t even care that it veers off course of the books. After all, they had their share of differences with Adams’ original radio plays, and there are also the comics, the computer game, and even the stage play to consider. The problem here is not really one of poor adaptation, it’s just that the movie is not very well made.



Maybe the problem is just the shaky script and questionable acting. Maybe the problem is the film’s troubled production, as the giant list of producers suggests. Maybe the problem is that Jennings just couldn’t pull it together. Maybe the problem is that Disney kept meddling and forced difficult changes on them. It doesn’t really matter. What matters is that while it’s not utterly terrible, it’s definitely mediocre.



With any luck, this will be as forgotten as Galaxy Quest and Lost in Space. If we are unfortunate enough that this film should make enough money to have the sequels it is so guilelessly begging for, I desperately hope the film finds its way into more British hands.



Hell, they didn't even bother to explain why a towel is so important.

Saturday, March 26, 2005

Well look on the bright side Gin, at least the very fact that someone is scanning us for all the who hah what not e-mail shizzle means we're popular... or slightly above the bottom of the barrel. I take pride in this. But yeah, spam is a bastard. My hotmail address (which I've had since I was twelve or so, during my first flirtation with the good ol' internet at EasyEverything internet cafe) is now routinely spammed, and it pisses me off. It's not even good spam. If they sent me free porn, or like you said, video games, I'd be happy, but NO! Bastards!

So to end this, I'll just say that today I'm setting down to have an Initial D marathon, because I'm cool and can do that.

- Ian

Friday, March 25, 2005

I've found a laptop to borrow, so I can post on the blog, even if I can't put up an articles or anything, because I'm in Nevada and my computer is in California. Here's a long post I wrote mostly on a pad of paper when I thought I wouldn't have any computer access for the whole trip!

I used to listen to the radio a lot. In high school, I listened to the dying strains of grunge rock as well as the faint echoes of the hyper liberal punk rock movement, now missing its Reagan-Bush anti-figurehead. Until high school, I lived with my dad in Michigan, burying myself in books, computers, anything that would stave off classmates taunting me for being poor, being uptight, being a nerd. I wanted to move to California for so long, when I finally got there I wasn't entirely sure what to do with it. Attitudes, the weather, social behaviors; it was different. And then there was the usual inability to deal with physical and mental changes brought on the heartless mechanisms of puberty, oh yeah, and not being able to get a girl became a more important issue.

So I listened to music, I read, I sat at the computer, and I played video games. I freely admit much of the music I listened to then was angsty and relied heavily on fewer than five chords at a time. That's okay, because that's all I was looking for musically. I was also looking for certain lyrical content, and while angst was not a necessary component, it helped. What I really wanted was some fire, some anger. Even Nirvana at its lowest, heroin-tinged ebb had that capacity for outrage that I needed. Even the mostly acoustic Nirvana Unplugged album had that undertone of being pretty pissed off.

I recently discovered a cache of old emails from high school, and I found numerous letters that went back and forth between me and a girl a couple years older than me who lived in Canada. We talked a lot about Green Day. I know what you're thinking, but don't start bitching yet. Just hear me out. These emails reminded me of a time when I really cared about Green Day, and hearing their new(ish) song on the radio just disgusted me the other day, and seeing a (pathetic) music video while trying to watch reruns of Daria the night before last only compounded the issue.

I first heard about Green Day in the Kerplunk! days, the Look Out! Records days. That makes sense, because I started spending my summers in California regularly in 1990, and my first trip to the state was promptly after my Kindergarden graduation. The Look Out! punk pop/ska punk movement was and is centered around the bay area. I also first heard Operation Ivy around this time, and though I fucking loathe most ska/punk (cue Mighty Mighty Bosstones, Reel Big Fish, and other such sewage that turned me off commercial radio in the first place), I still like Op Ivy. And I liked Green Day a lot back then. But you know, I was in maybe 7th grade, and as soon as I got back to Michigan, that music vanished.

People outside of the Detroit music scene at the time may have a hard time relating it to their own experiences in the early 90's. That's okay. I'll break it down for you. There was a lot of techno and rap. A lot. I'm not talking like the west coast NWA scene. I'm not talking like the east coast Tribe Called Quest scene. I mean, yeah, we heard both of those in Michigan, but there was just an overwhelming amount of local stuff. So much so that it was actually played pretty regularly on the commercial stations, believe it or not, especially on what was then 96.3 Jams. This station has since become a bad "Alternative Rock" station (whatever that means, since "alternative" began as a nicer synonym for grunge rock, but is still around even though grunge is quite dead). Then the station briefly became a talk station, and I hear now it's a country music station or something. I don't know; I can't keep up with Michigan radio stations when I've lived in California full time for ten years. Anyway, all this rap and techno did not leave much room for punk of any sort. And yeah, I mean, there were rock stations playing grunge. Absolutely. Nirvana was on the radio. I remember a big press event the day Kurt Cobain died.

But there wasn't any punk until a year or so after Cobain's death, and grunge was starting to lose steam. In my last year living in Michigan, Op Ivy's remains had become Rancid, and along with Green Day, I heard them both on the radio in Michigan. Wow, that was a weird feeling. I had one friend in school at the amazingly small Mayville Middle School 8th grade class who was also interested in this music, and we listened to Green Day together. I can tell you what appealed to us about it. The music was simple and catchy, and we thought the lyrics were great. (And believe me, my dad had made music education a required part of my life; I was practicing the fucking saxophone once a day whether I fucking wanted it or not, so I was very aware of just how simple the music was.) Oh yes, and the guitars were distorted and really loud, which is something we also liked about grunge. But I do have to say that the bass factors into it quite a bit, too, even if it isn't distorted. Look at the bassline in Longview.

Why did we like the lyrics? Well, part of it was definitely that they swore a lot. We were still at the place in our lives were swearing was taboo, and listening to other people swear was definitely a subtle form of rebellion. In fact, listening to music so simple a hamster could write it was probably also a form of rebellion against a dad who was making me enter contests playing Take Five and fucking Für Elise on the saxophone. There was more to it than that, though. The lyrics were also angry, and kind of depressed. And hey, that's how teenagers feel a lot of the time. Admit it. You were the same way. Or if you're a teenager and reading this now, you are the same way, and will be writing me an angry email soon. Follow that urge.

There's a couple more aspects to the lyrics that we liked. There was a lot about being bored (and if you've ever lived in a small town in Michigan, you can relate), and a weird thread that ran through the lyrics about sex/growing up, which is definitely something that was an issue when I was 13 or 14.

So let's actually go examine some lyrics, again using Longview as an example.

"I sit around and watch the tube/But nothing's on/I change the channel for an hour or two". Okay, Michigan is really fucking boring, especially when you're a teenager and it's winter. You watch TV not so much because you like TV or what's on, but more to kill time until you go to sleep, so you can get up and go to a school that you hate. "Twiddle my thumbs just for a bit/I'm sick of all the same old shit/In a house with unlocked doors/And I'm fucking lazy". Yeah, that was basically what it was like. Really bored. I lived by my mom's sarcastic mantra of "same shit, different day", and in a nowhere town like Mayville, no one locked their doors, and I just sat on my ass all day. I mean, frankly, what were my options? It's not like we could go clubbing or something.

The part that really got us rocking was of course the chorus, especially the last version of it. "Bite my lip and close my eyes/Slippin' away to paradise/I'm so damn bored I'm going blind/And loneliness has to suffice". Yeah, bored out of our fucking minds, with no potential for girls whatsoever. Mayville Middle School had pretty slim pickings for the female population, and besides, none of them would talk to us anyway. We were riff raff. I mean, we were the nerds who confused everyone by listening to punk. I guess we were supposed to listen to Barry Manilow or something, but feeling alienated and disenfranchised is all too frequently a part of being a nerd. Why wouldn't this music appeal to us?

Now, when I heard this "new" Green Day song on the radio, Boulevard of Broken Dreams I commented, "I remember when Green Day used to be a punk band." And it's true. I do. What they are now is something else. It's the culmination of a process of watering down that began somewhere in nimrod. and continued through Warning and whatever the album between Warning and American Idiot was. They are not a punk band. They are adult contemporary.

Let's do some lyrical analysis again, this time on Boulevard of Broken Dreams (which is a lyric I heard from Deadsy three years ago, by the way, in a much better song).

"I walk a lonely road/The only one that I have ever known/Don't know where it goes/But it's home to me and I walk alone". Okay, look, first of all, this lacks some necessary authenticity. Green Day. How many records have you sold? How much money have you made? Your road is not fucking lonely. Maybe you could say this in the Look Out! days, but back then you were writing about how girls didn't like you. Beyond that, those are some dull fucking lyrics.

Look, I was 13 when I first started listening to Green Day. I'm 23 now. Ten years have passed. I know I am no longer the angsty nerd stuck in a small town in Michigan looking for a girl worth lusting over. Punk fucking rock lyrics have to appeal to one of two things as far as I'm concerned, they better speak to my inner angsty teen, or they better fucking have some complex sociopolitical commentary, and no, saying you think Bush is lame does not fucking cut it. Crass fits more politics into a 3 minute song that you guys do into an entire album.

So far we have established that Billie Joe, a guy with two bandmates who have been at his side non-stop for more than ten years, not to mention the zillions of fans, walks alone.

"I walk this empty street/On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams/Where the city sleeps/and I'm the only one and I walk alone". And that's basically the exact same thing over again. Right. We're getting nowhere, except now we have the "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" bit.

Allow me a brief aside to show you Deadsy's lyrics from the 1999 song, The Key to Gramercy Park. "Every night/Looking for the fight/Thoughts on the left/The action's on the right/As you know, the id wasn't meant to be starved/Face white/Revenge of the Hittites/When you're inside/And you thought to take a walk in the park/Think someone is about to be carved/From the other side of the under scene/To the boulevard of broken dreams/To find a way to Gramercy Park".

There's a lot more to unpack from this song than Green Day's. First of all, it meets the teenage quota by being angry and talking about violence and being of two minds. It also talks about the id, a psychological concept from Sigmund Freud. Basically the id is all the dark parts of your psyche. While this is hardly beyond junior college Psychology 101, it's a much more complex idea than walking a fucking lonely road, you fucking whiners. There's also the bits about the "under scene" are probably referring to Freud's "other". Also, there's stuff about the left brain and right brain, and it's also pretty interesting because the left brain is supposed to be the creative side.

Let's talk about the Hittites, which were an ancient tribe that managed to get control from Mesopotamia to Syria from 1600-1200 BC, or BCE if you're a fucking pussy who can't handle a reference to Christ in your measurements of time. They were basically ancient badasses, credited with inventing iron, which they used almost soley for the purpose of making more weapons to kick ass with. Why are they in the song? Well, a lot of the song is about dealing with anger, but Deadsy also has a motive of trying to encourage education, as odd as that sounds. Their debut album (which the song is from), was even called Commencement. Now, I'm not trying to say Deadsy is a punk band (they're not; they're sort of half-neo synth pop, half punk industrial, and since I'm good at making up genres, I should be a zine writer!), but I am saying that Green Day's song is weak, and uses the same lyric to lackluster effect.

Getting back to the Green Day song, "I walk alone/I walk alone/I walk alone/I walk a...". Boy. That is some profound writing, and not at all different than the other lines I already commented on from the same song. Look, repeating the same thing over and over is a technique that works in comedy, where each instance of a running gag gets funnier. This is not fucking comedy. This is a song from a supposedly punk rock band. Since there is so little to the music, punk rock really needs to get a lot of mileage out of its lyrics. And this, my friends, is not pulling it off.

"My shadow's the only one that walks beside me/My shallow heart's the only thing/That's beating/Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me/'Til then I walk alone". Gee. This is really going places. This is once again the same fucking thing over and over. YOU'RE ALONE! WE FUCKING GET IT! MOVE THE FUCK ON! Longview, which was a song about being bored, had 20 times more content in half as many words.

"Ah-ah/Ah-ah/Ah-ah/Aaah-ah/Ah-ah/Ah-ah/Ah-ah". Aha. It's the old rock and roll standby. When you run out of lyrics, just go, "ah-ah!" or "yeah! yeah!" It works for U2! The problem is that before U2 resorted to that, there were actually lyrics other than 50 variations on one line. WE KNOW YOU WALK ALONE, MOTHERFUCKER.

"I'm walking down the line/That divides me somewhere in my mind/On the border line/Of the edge and where I walk alone". Okay, we have a line that might mean something. There's something there about being divided. Hey, that might play to the teenage crowd who are all confused. However, Billie Joe elects to avoid exploring this, and goes back to fucking walking alone. ARGH!

"Read between the lines/What's fucked up and everything's alright/Check my vital signs/To know I'm still alive and I walk alone". Okay, read between which lines? Is this supposed to be about Bush? Are we supposed to be relate this to the war on Iraq? We're supposed to believe they're telling us everything's okay, but it's really not? Is that it? Who knows, because Billie Joe doesn't bother to explore that idea either, and I'm desperately trying to wring meaning out of this. And before we forget, HE WALKS ALONE.

There's no point in examining any more lyrics, though, because they're all repeats of previous lyrics. So basically, the only message in this song is that a guy who has had numerous records on the top of the Billboard charts and has made roughly five jillion dollars walks alone, despite his many supporters, including his new audience of bland adults who want unchallenging music to make their dull work days slide by a little more quickly. UGH.

Let me take the time to address something I keep hearing people say. They keep talking about how American Idiot is Green Day returning to punk rock, attacking the conservative government. Let me take a crack at that. Green Day was never that kind of punk rock. They were pop punk. They wrote songs about girls hating them and songs about being an alienated teenage shit. They were on Look Out! for God's sake! They were no Crass, they weren't even fakeass anarchists like the Sex Pistols. So there's no return involved.

Furthermore, this is the most softball attack on Bush I've seen from music. Off the top of my head, the generally awful but much more dangerous Radiohead album, Hail To The Thief was much more direct, and Skinny Puppy's most obviously titled album yet, The Greater Wrong of the Right, is both brilliant musically and a nasty, nasty little assault on Bush. Why would you listen to, "I walk alone" when you could listen to, "Everything is wrapped up tight/Every little thing that is discovered/Did it ever really happen/Attached in awe/What a whiplash hate filled culture of viruses/Born raised and infected with violent thought". Maybe because it's much harder to hear, and maybe it has something to do with Skinny Puppy's touring theatrics, including staged executions of effigies of the heads of state. Do you want to hear that your culture has raised you to violence? Green Day collects accolades for their limpwristed critique, and Skinny Puppy is ignored for their knife to the face. America depresses me sometimes.

I tried really hard to continue liking Green Day. Hey, I still like Nirvana! But I just fucking can't. This song is just tripe. There is nothing going on musically or lyrically, and the delivery has all the verve of a corpse. I should have seen this coming a long time ago. I liked a lot of the songs on nimrod., even to this day, but there was a warning sign right there.

It was my least favorite song on the entire album, the sappy Good Riddance (Time of Your Life). This was the exact point when the wussification began. This is the start of the death of Green Day the punk band and the beginning of Green Day the adult contemporary band. This song is so bland and safe that they played it at my high school graduation. The lyrics, "So take the photographs, and still frames in your mind/Hang it on a shelf of good health and good time/Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial/For what it's worth, it was worth all the while/I hope you had the time of your life" were supposed to remind us of the good times and bad of high school. But that's not what I remember. I remember the wrenching confusion, the rejection, the alienation. Yeah, there were some good times. But they were few and far between, and it was mostly a myself and a few likeminded others huddling together, trying to survive the maelstrom occurring around us.

Guess what? College was much, much, much, much better. I do not look on high school with sentimentality. I look on high school with distate. The lyrics that remind me of high school are, "My eyes feel like I'm gonna bleed/Dried up and bulging out my skull/A crooked spine/My senses dulled/Fucked up and spun in my room/On my own/Here we go!" Can I have that Green Day back? I can't guarantee I'd buy more albums from an angry, disenfranchised Green Day, but I can guarantee I wont buy any from the Green Day we have now.

Regarding Guinness, Ian, I have to say that it may well be the world's most perfect beer. I don't know. I don't drink beer. I mean, I HAVE in the past, but it's not something I get much enjoyment from, and the rampant alcoholism in my family makes it unattractive. My mom and aunt always drank Guinness, and I even used to wear my mom's old Guinness T-shirt to school in middle school, expressly for the purpose of pissing off my teachers. Oddly enough, though other kids were forced to turn their shirts inside out for having pot leaves or whatever, no teachers ever hassled me about my green Guinness shirt. This pissed off kids who already hated me, so that was a nice bonus.

Nonetheless, I fucking hate spam, and I'm really irritated that someone is scanning Masterforce.org, looking for things to spam me about. The only spam that will NOT piss me off is video game or toy spam, and only if I asked for it (like I did when I signed up for Sega's email list). Unsolicited spam is a bad, bad thing, and shame on Guinness for taking advantage of me that way.

Furthermore, my aunt STILL drank herself to death in her late 40's, and Guinness still had a hand in that. For the record, Hellbunny will probably be drinking something that has a relatively low alcohol content and doesn't taste strongly, and definitely isn't beer. Who wants to take bets on what she drinks?

Just kidding, Hellbunny.