On the record, part deux

Just to make things "fair and balanced" (bring on the cease and desist, Fox News!), here is another site that analyzes what both Dems and GOPers are officially stating.

Link courtesy of Dave

GWB and pals on the record

Rep. Henry Waxman (D-California) has a searchable database of statements made by the major figures in the current administration.

Update:
Here's another one. Link via Stizzle.

War is not a game

I would like to say to any person who ever uses the words "soldier" or "warrior" to describe any athlete: Get some perspective, ape! This especially goes to Kellen Winslow Jr. and other dickhead jocks who think that playing their silly games constitutes going into battle. Tell you what. You walk away from your cushy multi-million dollar contract and enlist in the military. You voluntarily put yourself in harm's way. Until then, you do not deserve the label of warrior. So keep your mouth shut about it, because when you use those terms in that context or loosely, you're giving no respect to the people who actually do go into battle. Pat Tillman did, and he paid the ultimate price while bravely and nobly serving his country.

My bile also goes to anyone so arrogant to think that any war our military will engage in will be a cakewalk, and who flippantly remark Bring It On to goad our enemies into attacking our soldiers. So easy to say when you're not the one on the front line, surrounded by any one of thousands of people ready to kill you and ready to die to do so. So easy to do when you have the comfort of being able to watch the action from the safety of your living room. So easy to do when it's not your loved ones who will never make it home. So easy to do when you don't stop to think -- or care -- that it's not only people (on both sides) with the weapons who are getting maimed and killed. It's innocent civilians. It's children.

So easy to do when the ones we're shooting at are people of certain ethnicity and religion, viewed as "evildoers" and as a threat to your country and "freedom".

I know, a lot of this is old news, but dammit, I'm pissed off. I'm not against military conflict or fighting in general. But regardless of why we invaded Iraq in the first place (I don't have the energy to spout about that right now; it's nothing you haven't heard before), I'm pissed that there was such careless planning on what to do after it was deemed Mission Accomplished. I'm pissed that the guys in charge of this mess pushed for this war, heedless of the consequences and repercussions. Guys with manhood to prove, wealth to protect, Oedipal complexes, and chips on their shoulders. And we put these guys in power. Hopefully we'll do better next time we make that choice.

Oh, sweet toilet

Lisa and I have been working on remodeling our bathroom. Make that our only bathroom, a painful fact at 3am, when you haven't put the toilet back because you're waiting for the tile you just laid to set. A painful fact that in Sammamish, WA, there are no 24 hour diners and 7-11s. Oh, sure, I can go outside and pee in the bushes, but I didn't have to pee. Um, yeah.

Anyway, after what seemed like an eternal drive of looking for 24 hour gas stations, I found one. Of course, you can't use the restroom unless you're a paying customer. My tank was empty, so what the hell, I filled it up before getting to business. Thank you, Shell Gasoline!

We installed the brand spankin' new toilet the next night. (No worries, plenty of restaurants and retail stores to choose from during the day) When the first flush went without incident, I nearly wept with joy.

Update: This post is late, since I forgot all about it. It was saved in draft form.

Outta my way! I'm a VIP!

Nickel Creek at the Paramount tonight.

I have to admit, I didn't have any expectations about how the show would go. I'm a passing admirer of their music, but I never considered myself a fan. For all the technical skill they have with their instruments -- especially in the instrumental tracks -- the vocals on the albums lack depth. It's distracting from their otherwise good modern bluegrass albums. And I saw them at the Bumbershoot mainstage, a high school football stadium that holds thousands of people. They didn't come across very well that day; their music probably doesn't fit the big venues. But they were incredible tonight.

Let me start by saying that the good feelings started with the VIP passes Lisa and I had for the show. Okay, it's not like we won a contest. In fact, we just splurged a little more -- okay, about twice the amount of normal seats -- to get those tickets. Anyway, the passes entitled us to a couple of free drinks and free food, and a chance to meet the artists (we got there a little late for that). But the real kicker was that the passes afforded us the opportunity to grab any open seat on the floor.

The Paramount opened the doors to seating a little over an hour before the 8pm showtime. Up until that point, the real thrill of the night, the thing I was looking forward to, was moving myself into position for the mad dash that followed. I have to admit, this is what I do. A trademark really. A sickness. I'll do almost anything (Lisa rightly thinks I get positively asshole-ish) to get the best spot in the house if I'm properly motivated. It pretty much doesn't matter what it is. Rock, folk, hip-hop, polka, sitar music, I don't care. I'll wedge myself into a crowd of senior citizens -- I'd hip check any one of 'em -- to get the first spot at a buffet. If, dear reader, I ever attended your wedding, it was likely that by the time the caterer was slicing you off a piece of prime rib, I was right behind you in line, getting seconds. Needless to say, I got us front row seats.

The opening act, Mindy Smith, was really good. Her single is getting a lot of play on the Mountain, and when Lisa heard it, it was enough to move her to buy tickets. Smith, a country singer-songwriter, has great stage presence and amazing songs. The song dedicated to her late mother is a tear-jerker.

Like I said before, Nickel Creek can really jam. Sean (guitar), Chris (mandolin), and Sara (fiddle) are great players and they feed off each other really well. The solos are amazing, especially up close when you're watching the fingers fly. And the vocals. Well, they're amazing in concert. Especially Sara. She comes off a little too waifish on the albums, but she's much clearer live. And she positively belts when she wants to.

Highlights.

1) The bassist, playing the stand-up kind, is quite the skilled tap dancer. They were doing an Irish number, and he did his best Riverdance impersonation.
2) Numerous lengthy instrumentals and solos. Great change of tempo in each one of the songs.
3) In what I'd like to think as a tribute to Cobain and Seattle, they inserted Nirvana's "Lithium" into one of their songs. "...in a daze cuz I found God. Yeah yeah yeah, yeah..." If you know the original, you'd be amazed that there's a pop bluegrass version. Imagine Dave Grohl playing fiddle.
4) Starting a song with a cover of Beck's "Where it's at". Chris is pretty funny doing Beck's rap, but it somehow works.
5) The encore was very intimate. The four of them, including the bassist, unplugged their microphones and instruments, and played four songs in front of one mic. The crowd stood, hushed. Even without the mics, the band's singing and playing were inspiring. It felt like we were watching them in their living room.
6) Chris looking a little funny doing his solos. He's probably the best mandolin player I've seen play. But c'mon. Don't try to look like Eddie Van Halen. It's a mandolin...
7) Getting the set list. Another perk to being in the front row.

After the show, Lisa and I headed to Seattle's famed Hurricane Cafe, formerly The Dog House. We chased our cholesterol bombs with gin & tonics, and gushed about the concert.

I guess I'm a (gasp!) Nickel Creek fan now.

Employment benefits

I know where to go the next time I'm laid off. The headline says it all.

Perspective on the ground in Iraq

This is one of the most intriguing blogs I've ever read. The RSS feed is here. It puts into perspective that there are actual people in Iraq, caught in the crossfire. We forget (or choose to ignore) that it's not only our people who are dying over there.

My Hero...

...is Roger Ebert.

A Miss Universe you can get behind

This is awesome.

The Joyful Girl Returns

Ani Difranco played tonight to a packed house at the Paramount, and she once again (for the first time in a long time) proved that she is one of those rare artists who by her power, passion, and humanity can make a large venue seem as intimate as a coffee house. Her new album, Educated Guess (on which she played solo and produced), featuring songs about about love, family, and politics (among other things), were on display tonight. The set consisted mainly of songs from the new album, including the powerful poem, "Grand Canyon", an ode to the forebears of the progressive movement. In fact, except for a few songs I could count on one hand, including "Names and Dates and Times", "Overlap", and "Little Plastic Castle", all the songs were from the last two or three albums. I own all of her albums, but ever since she released To The Teeth in 1999, it gets harder to absorb all the songs. It's hard to keep up with her, since she releases an album or so a year. The woman is prolific.

Tonight was a homecoming of sorts. Not just a return to Seattle -- she plays here at least once a year -- but a return to her roots. On this tour she is playing solo (except for this leg of the tour, where she's accompanied by a bassist), a reflection of her decision to separate herself (thankfully) from her band, as well as from her husband (there are references to it on recent releases). And her music is a toned down departure from her funk-inspired and keyboard heavy albums of recent years. Her guitar-playing is once again at the forefront of her music, after several years of being drowned out by her band. The lyrics have remained consistent throughout the years -- she is the most articulate lyricist I've ever listened to -- but tonight's show seemed to show lyrical growth and seemed even more personal. The result was a sound refreshing and familiar to fans who've been following her since her early days.

Now, you can't talk about an Ani Difranco concert experience without talking about the fans. Her fans are a different mix of people, mostly women, and for the most part they are the best fans in the world. They are energetic and passionate, and they live and die, it seems, with each of her songs. However, there is something more than a little annoying about them, and I'm referring to a group of her most "loyal" admirers. Her FANS. Oh, you know them. The ones who scream incessantly at even the littlest things Ani says and does onstage. Granted, many fans identify with Ani's politics and her sexuality. However, it seems like FANS regard these aspects as the only things to identify with. I say this because the large majority of them are so enamored with Ani The Feminist-Bi-Queer Icon, and vocalize so loudly and often not even to the music (sometimes even missing the point to what she is singing about), they forget that, oh yeah, people are there to listen and see Ani The Musician. I'm not the only one to complain that you can't even hear the music sometimes. It's like The Beatles on Sullivan again, except with a now-trite, "You Go, Girl!!" flavor to it.

This may be too harsh, you say. What's the difference between those people and Korn fans? Those guys beat the hell out of each other at concerts and are ten times as vocal and disruptive! Well, putting musical taste aside (Korn sucks and their faux metal ilk bug the living hell outta me), the main difference is community. To many, Ani Difranco is the voice of the marginalized: women, gays, the poor. She articulates their lives and their pain much better than a band like Korn can to to their own fan base (young, white suburban boys). She brings a Fuck You attitude to folk music -- if her style can be called that anymore -- and gives inspiration for self empowerment. The Ani FANS cling to her and what she embodies so fiercely that they claim her as their own. Nobody else can know about her or deserve her. This is why, I suspect, they act the way many of them do at concerts. And how they were crushed when she married a dude. Again, too harsh? Perhaps. I'm just a guy, right? I don't know what I'm talking about. Then ask my wife, Lisa, an Ani fan of nearly ten years. She's been pushed around and nearly trampled by the zealots at more than one Ani concert. Maybe it's because she doesn't subscribe to the tattoo and big-boot uniform.

I'm sure that if this gets googled, the hate mail will come flooding in. Maybe that's just wishful thinking for this blog to get more hits. Alright, who's next? Are there any Mother Teresa fans out there I can offend?

Anyway, back to the show at hand. A year ago, Ani put on a short and seemingly half-hearted show at the Moore. Perhaps it was all the personal crises that she went through at the time, but she seemed weary and unenthusiastic. Her laugh, a most infectious giggle-turned cackle, seemed forced. Tonight, she was jumping around and bubbly, laughing like the old Ani, playing with an energy I hadn't seen in a while. Perhaps it's because she feels more free -- musically and personally. As she said tonight, "I love my job!" She even engaged the crowd a little bit more than last year -- although she loves and appreciates her fans, she's taken some personal steps to keep them at a comfortable length. I won't go into how she hates being pigeon-holed and categorized as this kind of musician, or that kind of person (a not too subtle hint to the FANS) because too many people have done it already, I would likely get it wrong, and it probably is not a big deal anyway.

I admit that I had one foot off the bandwagon a few years ago. I couldn't get into her last few albums, and I didn't like the way she was going musically and in concert. But hey, she's a musician who wants to grow. Why deny her that? I may not have been crazy about the music, but I still bought the CDs and went to concerts faithfully. I went to tonight's show with no expectations, but kinda hoping for the old magic. There are strong traces of it. She's not the same as she was many years ago -- she never will be. Ani's gone through a lot and has grown. But it looks like she's doing a lot of things that made her a success. The Li'l Folksinger seems happier and she's churning out really good music again. I'm looking forward to see where she's going and falling in love with her music again. A concert like this reinforces why I became a fan in the first place.

Just so we're clear...

...This is not me. But it would be a nice addition to my party tricks if I could make balloon animals.

Who says we don't have Asian representation in pop music?

Caught William Hung on Leno last night. You may remember him from American Idol, where he was so good, the judges decided he was too good for the show, that he should just skip the Idol process and go straight to the studio. Apparently, the geniuses at Koch Records agreed and decided to give him a record deal. Nice. For a long time I've been complaining that we need a prominent Asian/Pacific Islander (I'm one) in American popular music. After years of fellow Asians laboring in the background in premier music groups -- the only ones I can dig up are James Iha (as makeup guy) from Smashing Pumpkins, Jeff Lin (as obscure guy) from Harvey Danger, the long-haired one in Blackeyed Peas, and the dolt from N.E.R.D. -- we now have our uber performer/singer/dancer, our Asian Justin Timberlake, our Asian Michael Jackson. Nay, our Asian...Clay Aiken?

Keep up the good work, William. You get your groove on. Nevermind that you're earning more money than your fellow Idol-ers, who have more talent than you and who take what they do a hell of a lot more seriously than you do. Nevermind that you're considered a joke or that you're a tool who cheerfully reinforces bad stereotypes. But you can't get all the credit. Kudos to all your "supporters" who adopted you as their ethnic pet and thought that someone who can't dance or sing deserved a shot in the music biz.

A special shout out to Hung's band, backup singers, and dancers last night for keeping it serious and legitimate (as much as it could be). For whatever wrongs you've done in the past, may this be sufficient atonement.

Here we are now...10 years later

I just wanted to pay my yearly respects to the late, great Kurt Cobain.

1991 was a turning point for me. I was 19, in college, and ready for something to change my world. Something did, and it was called Nevermind. I always thought of myself as someone who had diverse musical tastes. I liked soul, R&B, funk, and hip-hop. Throw in country and metal. Give me some Kenny G, anything, for God's sakes. But I never really had any real interest in alternative music. Oh sure, I could groove on The Cure, dance a bit to REM, bang my head to Faith No More. But punk? What's that? Nah. I went to a record store one day with a roommate, and he showed me Nirvana's Bleach, showcasing one of Charles Peterson's trademark photos on the cover. It was noisy, the singer incoherent. I gave my roommate a condescending smirk and returned to my search for the Bell Biv Devoe singles.

Then months later, this song came out, "Smells Like Teen Spirit", loud, crunchy, surprisingly poppy. Amazingly good. Then I saw the video. Kids dancing around, pummeling each other, destroying instruments. Having the time of their lives. Then I saw the credits: Nirvana. Ah, so that's who that band was, I thought.

This song, this album, opened my eyes to the world of alternative music, and I threw myself into that world full force. I broke out the flannel shirts I ignored all through high school, and I grew my balding 'do as long as I could (before it got too ridiculous; picture a 19 year old Filipino with Neil Young's barely there coif). I listened to everything that I could get my hands on. Rollins, Sonic Youth, Dinosaur Jr., Rage Against the Machine. Anything from Seattle: Posies, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Mudhoney. Falling to my knees at the altar of Grunge. Yes, Virginia, there is a poser. And he is me.

But it wasn't about the music and clothing as much as what it represented to me. It was the voice of dissatisfaction, the angst (to be cliche). It was the feeling of being part of something that rebelled against everything I hated: conservativism, hatred, homophobia, racism. It made me more politically aware, and more aware that the world is much larger than my neighborhood. The music was just a doorway to my passion for progressive issues. It made a generation of disaffected and apathetic people get involved.

Not that the music didn't kick ass. It did. Boy, did it ever. One thing about being a young man back then was that loud guitars and wailing, screaming vocals bring out a way to get the rage out. Moshing and screeching along to the music was cathartic and fun. Not only that, I came to appreciate the artistry and the ability of the musicians. Who thought that beautifully layered guitars could go well with deafening feedback? The Smashing Pumpkins were heroes. And Sugar. And Tool. And Nine Inch Nails. And Superchunk. And Grant Lee Bufflalo. And L7. And Primus. And Liz Phair. And 7 Year Bitch. And The Melvins. And Pixies. And...

And so it goes.

When Kurt died, a part of me died as well. But it wasn't the part that of me that believed in the potential of people and power of music (no matter how pessimistic and misanthropic I get). I continued to absorb all kinds of music, attended all sorts of live music shows. All at the expense of my education. To my parents, when they read this, I apologize for the postponing of your retirement...

These days, my music taste is even more diverse. Between me and my wife, we have about 1,000 or so CDs and tapes (okay, sure, that's not a lot by musicphile standards, but hey, a guy's gotta eat) that stretches across many genres. Blues? It's in there. Country? It's in there (okay, no Toby Keith. I detest that flag-waving, crotch grabbing, mullet-growing, insecure fucker). Folk? Yep. Punk? You bet. Rap? Yes, sir. Throw away pop? Got it (There's a Britney album or two in there; it's not as bad as it seems, her being hot notwithstanding). And the collection is growing.

Kurt Cobain is one of the biggest influences of my generation. He made the world better, and he made me better. For that, Kurt, words alone cannot express my gratitude. To quote someone I know, "Your pain was beautiful".

Stereolab Rules!

Just saw Stereolab last night at The Showbox. Amazing band. I'd never seen them live before, and I didn't know how they'd sound live, especially since one of their singers died a few years ago. But I have to say, yes, they kick ass...

Just as intriguing was the opening band, Manitoba. They're kind of a mix of Death Cab for Cutie, Sonic Youth, and various 80s sad sap Euro bands. They play their instruments over dubbed-over vocals. They have a strange movie on the wall behind them as they play. And they wear pig (or rodent) masks. It'll be interesting to follow their career.