Wow

I saw Spoon tonight. It was pretty perfect on a few levels, though I wish they had played less from Gimme Fiction, an album I'm not that familiar with (that's not to say it's bad, I just never got into it.) Britt Daniel and crew are awesome-everything between Britt, Jim Eno, Rob Pope and Eric Harvey clicks. It seems like their only function is to be a good band. Each one of their records is flawless. Their live show is tighter than a virgin. They look cool, they're not too young, they dress sharp, their album covers are neat as fuck, their lyrics are mysterious and hard to understand... Fucking cool. They function as a true group should. During songs, they talk to each other, about what I don't know, nod in agreement, harmonize, play instruments. Whatever. I'm just really glad I saw them, over the last year they've fought their way into my top five favorite bands. Actually there's lots of newcomers there, so that's a perfect segue:

Desert Island Top Five Favorite Bands
1. Pearl Jam
2. Against Me!
3. Interpol
4. Spoon
5. Blur

neat.
in other news, fuck metalcore.

Fucking Thursday

This week has been too long. Everything has been way too long lately. I'm ever pulling myself out of pits. Deep and dark ones that drip water and eventually drive you insane.

So there's this girl and for some reason I can only talk to her five minutes at a time every two or so days. I used to talk to her daily, fucking HOURLY. Now it's like, I don't know. That's just the last voice I feel like hearing. I feel bad because she's always expecting a call from me and is always excited when I finally do, then I just have to fucking hang up.

I just hang up with her and my eyes are just bulging. I don't even understand it, these are completely involuntary reactions. Psychologically, her voice to me is an irritating, depressed whine not unlike that of a divorced mother of two graduates surrounded by cats. Imagine that.

So those pits are this funk, this heavy fog that is hanging over me. Funny enough, it's been really foggy around here lately. Some of my few solaces are in reading historical shit, hanging out at work and getting driven around by my friend Frank.

And thank the Lord, THE DARJEELING LIMITED OPENS IN PHILADELPHIA TOMORROW, OCTOBER 12, 2007 A.D. AND I AM GOING TO SEE IT SUNDAY AT THE RITZ EAST ON SECOND STREET BETWEEN WALNUT AND CHESTNUT. Oh. BOY.

p.s. in rainbows rocks.

Oh the Sunday sleep

Looking forward to bed after a long soulsucking weekend.

One moment that sticks out happened yesterday afternoon at the luncheon. Mrs. Boxler looked ill and her age. She just took my hand and told me that she loved my name, that she thought it was strong.

Anyway. I never thought I'd be running out of a three day weekend to the the finish-line at my desk in A.P. Euro.

Let's get cultural. I really like Tokyo Police Club. They get some undeserved and unnecessary comparisons to the Strokes. TPC, though, have these senses of paranoia and youthfulness unhindered by coke-addled tours with British counterparts (the Kooks? anyone?).
Here's their video:


What's Hot:
Post-punk
Viruses on my computer thanks to a fake Darjeeling Limited torrent
Wes Anderson (and anything else to distract)
Maybe picking up my guitar again
Finding it impossible to develop a soundtrack to the last five days.

Items

Tonight felt unreal. I hate it. I hate seeing good people so outside of themselves
I got my haircut. I like it. That's all I have going for me until Sunday afternoon. :\

This Blog has Been Ressurected and will Shine in New Light

Popular Culture of Note:
Radiohead is releasing a new album, In Rainbows, next Wednesday. I really hope you already knew that.

The Darjeeling Limited, that new Wes Anderson movie I'm fucking dying to see, is more like The Darjeeling Limited Motherfucking Release. According to Fandango, Movietickets.com et al., it's not playing anywhere within 40 miles of Philadelphia. Deeply saddening and now I'm stuck with the 12 minute teaser/prequel/bit of genius.

Plenty of shows in Philadelphia to look forward to and, hot damn!, they're mostly on weekends. Spoon (10/19,) The Go! Team (1o/26,) the Thermals (11/2,) Against Me! (11/16) etc.

Personally:
Someone great is gone and I have never felt so different before. And I'm overeating.
School sucks.
I'm doing this for lack of ambition to write for the fascist school paper.

Hot List:
Daft Punk
Pearl Jam-Riot Act
Radiohead-Hail to the Thief
the New York Times
Rushmore
the Children of Men (novel)
New books?
looking ahead
School Dances.

leaving

im leaving here for a week to go to mexico-my dad's little adventure. nothing luxurious...i'll probably drink the water because taylor won't be there to remind me not to.

taylor is important to me, taylor is the possible way of the future. or i could forget about her in a year-its two extremes, but we like to pretend it's the former. she's afraid of funny things but i like that. she's really effortless for the most part, especially the way she talks. everything actually. we're mutually cultural, but different facets. we're fine with doing nothing at all and shit's never awkward no matter how quiet (this is important.) we don't need to converse (literally or in the new agey- sense), we can just sit. and it'd be fine. we could sit for the rest of our lives on the red couch to the immediate left of me and it's be fine.



so there's a blur video and my two cents on taylor...cos i told her it'd be there.

see you in a week
(if i am to die, like usual, all my possessions are up for grabs)

i hate steely dan so i guess you could say pretzel logic was the worst thing i heard all year even though it came out 30+ years ago...sorry, yacht rock was a new thing for me.

i still hate progressive rock. stuff i really learned to hate this year though was sufjan stevens (a voice like joni mitchell, "chamber pop" only works for belle and sebastian, never will complete "50 states" or be as prolific as robert pollard), the raconteurs (three good songs does not make for a good album, huge dissapointment), pitchfork, spin, anyhing mike mazella likes alot, swan lake, wolf parade, hardcore, metalcore, metal, most screaming, and rolling stone. stuff i learned to love include popular hip hop, italian girl, slate magazine, regina spektor's begin to hope, and the hold steady. more later.

spektor

i got the new regina spektor album for christmas. regina spektor>cat power. i'm kind of surprised no one really compares the two. i don't even know if they're all that similar. chanteuses i guess.

begin to hope is good-it's really cute...her accent gets annoying sometimes and i don't know if it's as good as soviet kitsch, but it's good and it's cute.

no one probably cares about this at all and i appreciate that. i really want a leica camera! they're mad nice.

merry christmas, here's my dick in a box:

its late and honestly i could go on and on

i have to fucking work at 8 am tomorrow/today. damn! i was planning skateboarding to kennett.

anyway, cool things that have crossed my mind

• misfiring nerves
• lost in translation (the thinking man's garden state)
  
• bill murray's karaoke (what's so funny about peace love and understanding, more than this)
• inside jokes with taylor
• see: holiday indifference
• heavy eyelids
• junior year omg mix
• not having to see weird looking fucks for over a week (you know what i mean.)
• spike jonze
• see: brilliance
• a blank mind
• 91 on my algebra two test (numbers have finally come around)

i mean i love photo, i dont develop my own shit, but fuck: i know what aperture value is and all that jawn...

here is some spike craziness, goodnight, welcome, welcome back, i hope someone is reading. anyone.

the bitch is back

the bitch is back

cha boy is back.

year in review, it's coming. all im gonna say is rap.

yesterday was my birthday despite much protest and, eventually, my own indifference. i turned sixteen. we had the whole family over for easter, most of both sides. as the afternoon progressed i felt more and more thankful. finally in the early evening i had this incredible urge to wish everyone in the entire world a happy birthday. it was the most amazing feeling. im still feeling it. i wish it could happen really, throw away all this belligerence and let everyone know that today (and everyday?) is their fucking day and to seize it, take it by the horns and run with it. im not talking from much experience and its illogical to think anyone would ever listen to me but ive tried it a bunch, and seizing the day is fucking perfect and amazing and it could all begin with a happy birthday. so happy birthday, regardless of my feelings towards you, or yours toward me.

yesterday was my birthday despite much protest and, eventually, my own indifference. i turned sixteen. we had the whole family over for easter, most of both sides. as the afternoon progressed i felt more and more thankful. finally in the early evening i had this incredible urge to wish everyone in the entire world a happy birthday. it was the most amazing feeling. im still feeling it. i wish it could happen really, throw away all this belligerence and let everyone know that today (and everyday?) is their fucking day and to seize it, take it by the horns and run with it. im not talking from much experience and its illogical to think anyone would ever listen to me but ive tried it a bunch, and seizing the day is fucking perfect and amazing and it could all begin with a happy birthday. so happy birthday, regardless of my feelings towards you, or yours toward me.

Yes

tomorrow at 1:25 will be a break that i hope and expect to be fufilling.

i'll keep this brief and simply let it out that i am sexually frusterated.

Ah

to the anonymous commenters-its salesianum. everyone is a bitch. the place is a breeding ground for fake shit talking pricks. you both are likely some of them. if you want to take shit up with me, how about you take the upper hand and NOT be a pussy by trying to start something. we'll fucking go, i don't care. i will fight you if you are game, and you know what i will lose, but it'll be worth it and it won't be the last. fatty? come on now we all know im not overtly large. if you are who i think you are take a look at your faggot friend chris kobus. he is fat. and a prick. i dont know, yeah i talk alot of shit and that is what i do and if you take issue with it take it up with ME not my blog. goddammit i dont even want friends at that hellhole anyway, youre all phonies. fuck.

So Anyway

yeah theres not too much going on these days. i just wrote an ACE paper on similarities between the catcher in the rye and the great gatsby. rugby is great as expected. after you play rugby, all other sports save for soccer and hurling pale in comparison, namely football and lacrosse. fuck those sports on the real. i can only hope within the next few days, thoughts worthy enough to write in here come to me. maybe ill start making a concious effort to not be such a dick to people i dont like.

Fuckass

i dont have much to say this evening except

• rugby is the greatest sporting event known to man
• leslie reids attempt at not being a slut/retard/friendly/fake/pennsylvania are so disgusting. that girl is a monster. i find it totally entertaining her and her beaux have practically the same glasses.
  
• the office
• it is the fourth quarter. i can still redeem myself.
  

my subconcious has decided once more it is time to pack up and move on, so that's life i guess. i can't wait to actually have the option of moving places. im just going to move until i find people who are actually creative and people arent afraid to be honest.

i just washed my hands, like ridiculously. and i feel like listening to classic rock and going to lots and lots of parties.

i wish parties were still old fashioned and earnestly fun and you actually met new people and danced and socially drank, not these kegfests of debauchery and sexual satisfaction/teen romance. no one is earnest and nothing is honest. everything is so secretive. i wish sometimes i threw caution and my inhibitions to the wind and had a good (material) time, instead of doing it with my brain, cos shit son, that aint working out.

my life will parallel the career of everclear-i'll never really make it (socially, academically,______).

anyway, i guess my life has a pattern. or so it seems; i have close friends, i find something that bugs me about them but i dont tell anyone and then it just creates bigger problems. key event-their realization i am a dick, citing an end to the process. most recently the other person was lyndsey stanton and the thing i think that bugged me most is she didnt like me (or is so incredibly social and that is only growing weekend by weekend, or has this smile that makes me insane, or i get the impression is fake sometimes). any of those. it peaked in an argument last night where lyndsey said she was finished with me for good. shit, that's life! i don't know what to do with myself except eat and play rugby. i started making to do lists, theyre coming in handy for the most part. i hope everything gets tied together soon before i like, freak out on my whole life.

seeya,
joe

Rusholme Ruffians

first off, spring has sprung and i could not be more elated. second, there is a show friday that timmy johnson and i have so diligently put together.

for lack of anything more intelligent to say, here is a hot list (with respective wikipedia articles):

01. Britpop
02. Bjork
03. DIY
04. Fences and Windows
05. The Spirit Temple
06. Parklife
07. No Depression
08. Rugby
09. Spring
10. Shamrock Shakes


Other notes:

• I am slowly growing from a pussy to a boy.
  
• I desire a girl who is the opposite of myself. chuckle!

seeya.
joe

Well That's A Promise

a few minor points before i get into things

• fuck you, you dunno the half. neither do you, and you're the one involved.
• i decided every day is a good day regardless, cos what the fuck is a bad day worth?
• "I Get Wet" is currently my favorite pop tune.
• Fugazi's The Argument is my current favorite album.
• There is a show March 17th. if you are reading this, you are probably already aware. This show has caused me some distress and given me some flack.
• Saturday, I film my untitled movie. I hope it's a success, that all depends on how good the editing turns out.
  

tonight i went to lancaster to attend a question and answer session with none other than my musical and ethical idol, ian mackaye (teen idles, fugazi, minor threat, the evens, dischord records, harDCore, etc. etc. et al.). these are things i got out of it. with where we are in life and what we are into, we should not compromise. we are young and we are creative. well some of us are creative. alot of people don't even give a two shits about creativity or art (and i use art to mean things that arent manufactured shit). especially in today's "scene" where there are so many fucking bands that sound exactly as the other just because this sound seems to work with this crowd of people. this is compromise. this is monotony. this is where punk is no longer punk, alternative is no longer alternative, etc. you have created a mainstream within it self. you are as bad as the pop stars and rappers that you condemn unless it's for the sake of irony or good times. i can't understand why there are so few different bands and how much several certain sounds are dictating an entire scene, especially one that is or was against the grain. it makes me sick how fake underground music is becoming. it's generally the music that teenagers like myself have attatched themselves to. i find it hard to listen to, not because it's "heavy" (by no means) or aggresive (far from) or new (yeah right), but because it is generic. it is faceless. it is artistic compromise. and people refuse to accept the roots of it all, but thats another story for a different day. not in the last 20 years has there been such a huge upsurge of bands started up by teenagers and young folk, but it's all meaningless because it all sounds the same and follows the same ethic and ideals and aesthetic. i believe there is only one ideal/aesthetic/ethic that the "underground" should follow and that is this: do it yourself.

ian mackaye is a prime example of diy. his first band, the teen idles, were straight out of high school, living in D.C. no one would put out a punk record from teenagers, so what do they do? they put it out themselves. so many young bands are wasting tons of money on recording and tons of time shopping it around to big labels or touring, waiting for something to happen, never really getting their name out there. ian mackaye did in a big way through starting his own label. DIY helps aid in the creation of completely unadulterated music and ideas. there are no outside governing bodies to impose limits. there are no contracts breeding mistrust. there is only creativity and a free flow of ideas. i learned so much tonight. i want to try to emulate diy whether it be on my own or through other ventures. im sick and fucking tired of the same sounds and the same places and the same people running the same goddamn scene. im young so i don't have the privilige of going to the city and seeing fresh bands. i have to do it myself. im sick and tired of hearing this same old bullshit and i want to break away from it. im tired of seeing everyone compromising themselves in ALL walks of life, not just art. it's ridiculous, we're humans and have free will. don't be a fucking follower.

goodnight

p.s. i dont give a shit who the fuck is in your top 8 so save your fucking bulletins.