Also note that no matter how much I bitch, all these films are indeed good.  The academy has some integrity and can at least pick good stuff to nominate, compare it to the ‘Teen Choice Awards’ and you’ll know what I mean.

Avatar – dir. James Cameron

The big elephant in the room for any movie fanatic hasn’t seen it. It’s rare that you see the movie fanbase divided so much, average movie goers either loved the experience or thought the plot was too preachy. If I hear another person say “teh specal effekts wer gud but de storie was dum”, I’m gonna shit a chicken. In my opinion, it’s a satisfying, grandiose and fun to watch genre flick. I DID NOT see it in 3D because I was just too damn proud to, plus I got sick last time I saw a 3D thing. I hear it adds to the experience a lot, but I don’t give a shit. I suppose the story was a bit preachy, but the thing was so well paced and superbly photographed that it’s anything but boring. Once you get over the OTESHA subtext thing, you’ll find a well directed although (in my opinion) forgettable movie. 7.5 navi breasts out of 10

District 9 – dir. Neill Blomkamp

Whoa, I didn’t see this picture getting a nomination. It’s not that it’s bad, just I never saw the academy nominating something that desensitized me from all the explosions. It’s an interesting and unique movie to be sure, which sticks in your mind after you’ve seen it. The mockumentary style kinda makes it feel ‘small’ (if that makes any sense) but what I really like about this movie is the main character Sharlto Copley. He deserves an oscar for ad-libbing all those lines, the scenes of him on screen are totally watchable. One complaint nobody else seems to have is the ridiculous amount of action, which I thought was bloooooooody overkill. Nonetheless, I may consider seeing it again. 7.3 horny aliens out of 10

Inglorious Basterds - dir. Quentin Tarantino

Sort of a wish fullfillment movie for people either obsessed with Tarantino or WWII. I saw it in theaters on my birthday and it was the first bluray I ever purchased. While I don’t think it’s as good as Quenty’s first two movies, I’d say it could be an easy third place. Seen it twice now, probably will watch it again and catch even more foreshadowing tricks and script subleties. Not much else to say other than it’s awesome, and I certainly believe it’s time for Tarantino to win a best director award, and Waltz for best supporting schmuck. 9.0 swastika forehead scars out of 10

Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire – dir Lee Daniels

First off, why is the title that long? It’s listed like that on every movie site, as if they just read what was on the poster. Also, how can a novel be written by a friggin’ color? Stupid complaints aside, that hindenburg girl definitely deserves the best actress award. I however do have some whining to do; the cinematography was pretty bland and occasionally spastic; during a conversation with Mariah Carey the camera keep zooming in and out, as if it was a music video highlighting her tata’s. Yeah, yeah, the acting was really good, but I feel the photography and editing need some polishing up. And Daniels does not deserve the best director nom, straight up. 6.8 crashing blimps out of 10

A Serious Man – dir. Ethan and Joel Coen

If you like the Coens (I woul kill a disabled twelve year old with down syndrome if they asked me) you’ll like this flick. There’s just as much dark humor, tight photography and slightly-off characters you’d expect from a flick like this. The only place it doesn’t hold up in is the ‘best Coen’s movies ever’ list, but ahhhh who cares. It doesn’t have a good conclusion, but other than that it’s a very watchable piece of dark-quasi-humor-philosophical-ehhhya. I saw it twice, it only gets better. 8.3 neurotic Jews out of 10

Up – dir. a whole bunch of animation supervisors or whatever

What a treat the pixar movies are, although this one feels a little short and small compared to other 3D outings by Disney. Completely fun from start to finish, with vivid landscapes and hidden meanings that you catch on your second viewing. Not much to say, only that it’s a relentlessly pleasant and almost brought me to tears at a few points. 8.5 crotchedy old men out of 10

This post will contain Black Sabbath’s first eight albums, which are the ones featuring Ozzy Osbourne on vocals. Most people refer to this as the classic Sabbath period, which is fair enough, although they released some great stuff without Ozzy and at least a few Ozzy-Sab albums weren’t very good.

1970 – Black Sabbath (self titled debut album)

Often cited as the ‘earliest heavy metal album’, this debut is probably my favourite of the entire vast Sabbath penor. The opening lyric is “what is this that stands before me?”, which perfectly sets the mood. This was the first album to have a really dark, overdriven guitar tone, disturbing lyrics and an overall sense of evilness/dread to the music. Look at that cover…it’s so fitting. I need not go into detail of any particular tracks, I’ll just say the whole album sounds like a mix of heavy blues music, hard rock, a little bit of jazz and a whole lot of marijuana smoke.  5 out of 5

1970 – Paranoid

Easily the most influential and popular album by Black Sabbath, but I never thought it was the very best. Not to say it’s really lacking or anything, especially with songs like the opening track, War Pigs, which I think may qualify as one of the best songs ever created. Call me crazy, but I just don’t like the song Iron Man, with it’s catchy riff and general…I dunno. I just can’t stand listening to it for some reason. Nonetheless, most of the content on the album is still absolutely masterful despite my ability to bitch about little things. It’s another step in the riff-based and bizarro soundscape known as heavy metal, this time with a more developed and less raw feeling than the self-titled album. The riffs were dark, the lyrics were scary, the popular song Iron Man was annoying. Ah well. Two classic albums in the same year also, for what it’s worth. 4.5 out of 5

1971 – Master of Reality

Going even further into the realm of heavy guitar riffs, philosophical lyrics and whatnot, this is the third classic in a bloody row. The first track is called Sweat Leaf, I’ll give you three tries to guess what it’s about. The next song contemplates religion, which I always thought was a funny juxtaposition, it’s like first some guy smokes a bunch of weed and then starts talking about existentialism. I don’t feel the need to really elaborate on this album too much, anyone who’s anyone knows it’s full of mind-blowing compositions, a dirty guitar tone, and an even bigger weedy feeling than other Sabbath albums. Like Paranoid, I don’t really consider it perfect, but who gives a hoot. 4.5 out of 5

1972 – Vol 4

I always felt this album was a slight slip in quality. First off, couldn’t they have thought up a better title? “Volume 4″, thats it? Can’t fault it for lying, I guess. Cover’s kinda lame too, but so be it. There’s a few tracks on here that I think are either filler or weirdly contrived, especially the horribly out of place ballad Changes. Snowblind always sounded a little out-of-tune also, although I suspect that may have been intentional. Oh well, says Mike. On the flip side, there’s at least several undefeatable classics thrown in to balance it out, particularily the crushing 8-minute Wheels of Confusion. Sabbath still sounds very inspired on this, and okay, it’s still overall a very good LP. Just it’s a little contrived and I don’t consider it a classic. 4 out of 5

1973 – Sabbath Bloody Sabbath

This album is basically duking it out with the self-titled one as my favourite Black Sabbath disc. It’s a little more straight-forward than Vol.4, but the whole album feels consistant and lacks any bad tracks, except for the synthy nightmare Who are You?.  The lyrics are really what make it for me, the entire album has an agitated and cynical tone, feeling like a pissed off burnout going on well informed psychological rants. It’s a huge, brooding and innovative album, and it nevers looses what makes metal great while attempting to experiment with the formula. The whole infatuation with witches and magic was gone too, replaced with heartfelt skepticism and a general feeling of confrontation towards naysayers. And oh yeah, the riffs are freakin’ awesome as well. 5 out of 5

1975 – Sabotage

Whoa. Even after multiple listenings, I cannot fathom what kind of things were going through the bands mind when they created this album. Probably a whole lot of drugs much worse than pot, but so be it. This is as gritty, dark and contrived as Sabbath would ever get but luckily, it works. I find alot of fans are torn on whether this is the work of desperate artists caught up in their own minds, or if it’s a brilliant statement towards the intrinsic effects of heavy drug use. It is indeed both, as I think this was the point where intoxication level was brimming to the extreme. Symptom of the Universe is so damn heavy that a lot of people consider it the earliest form of thrash metal. When I first listened to it, I didn’t like how weird it was, but upon further listenings I can sort of understand the album. It’s idiosyncratic, to say the least, but lovably so. 4.25 out of 5

1976 – Technical Ecstacy

Here’s where things start to get a little…shitty. Before this album, Sabbath always sounded good, even when they were falling on their asses from all the intoxication influence. This entire album is sort of a bloody mess, the music swinging schizophrenically between lazy to contrived to silly. Here’s a song title I don’t like: ‘Rock N’ Roll Doctor’. The drugs were pretty obvious on previous Sabbath albums, but at least those ones dug deep into your mind with lyrics and gritty riffs. The experimentation here sounds pretty half-assed, the drugs have not made the band philosophical, it’s just made them lazy. It’s nowhere near as bad as I just made it out to be, but it’s considered to be the first huge drop in quality for the band. 3 out of 5

1978 – Never Say Die

The 8th and final Black Sabbath album to feature Ozzy on vocals, and does he exit the room gracefully? Nope, quite the opposite. This is the sound of a rockstar shitting his pants and dying after finding out how mediocre of an album he’s just written. It’s in the same realm of half-assed-ness as Technical Ecstacy, but even further so. I almost pity this poor album, from it’s bad production and lame vocal performance from Ozzy. The band had basically lost it’s inspiration here, in favour of hard drugs and bad lyrics. The album spirals out into an infinity of unlistenable pyschedelic jams, boring lyrical content and a general feeling of musicians block. Okay, okay, it isn’t terrible and Sabbath would release worse albums (see Born Again, my earliest review on this blog) but listening to this is like seeing your favourite childhood racing horse being taken into the glue factory. 2.5 out of 5

My approach this year will be essentially the same as last year. When kids come to the door, I’m not going to answer it. It’s not that I don’t have any candy, I just plan on eating the stuff personally in full public view near the window. Call me the terrifying horror of isolated suburban decadence. The walking part of trick-or-treating drains the energy of my fat arse, thus maybe I’ll spend three bucks on a box midget candies instead. The only advantage to going door to door is the vague illusion of electicism, you always get a variety of shit and often you find dodgy looking stuff that you’ve never seen in stores. To get access to those quarky candies in stores, you gotta buy ‘em in bulk, but after a free Halloween session you have a whole lovely bunch of junk food. Unfortunately, I hate moving, so that wont happen.

Anyway, here’s a few horror movies which are actually good. None of that horror-remake and franchise sequel malarky, this is the good shit! These are just some picks that I recommend you check out.

1960 – Peeping Tom

This movie destroyed director Michael Powell’s career because of it’s liberal use of violence, shock and general edge-pushingness. By today’s standards, it’s PG-13. The reason that this movie holds up so well isn’t the then-unacceptable violence, which is actually completely necessary to the plot. This movie is held in high regard today (unlike 1960, when it was banned everywhere) is because it’s one of the most disturbing and authentically twisted movies ever made. Honestly, I find this much scarier than almost every new horror movie I see. The scare tactics rely purely on psychological immersement, in which case the movie doesn’t suffer from dated production value. The story is simply about a man who films his vistims while he kills them, although the commentary is much deeper. It’s really a dark,dark,dark study of how we are all ‘peeping toms’. This is one of the few movies to genuinely scare me, and I’m not talking about jump moments or bullshit. This is a genuinely horrifying trip into the perverted parts of our mind, it is for that reason an absolute classic.

1986 – Henry:Portrait of a Serial Killer

A terrific example of a low-budget ‘grindhouse’ movie that’s actually worth your time. Filmed in less than a month and without much money, Henry can whoop the ass of any Hollywood horror movie any day. Michael Rooker’s performance as the title role is among the best in all of horror history, the film is worth seeing for him alone. It is essentially the opposite of the popular slasher movies that were going on at the time, this movie featuring no cleavage bimbos, wise talking cops or angsty teenagers. It’s as gritty a movie as you’ll ever find, doing away with the high production values and general poppyness of your average 80′s horror flick. The only setback is the soundtrack, which reeks of crude basement synthesizers and almost becomes as horrifying as the film’s protagonist. Quite simply, it’s just about a few weeks in the life of Henry, a serial killer. It’s exactly what you’d expect from the title, just done so bloody well that it can’t be ignored. No hollywood sass, just an effective movie.

 1985 – Return of the Living Dead

It sounds like a cheap Romero-ripoff, but it’s more a hybrid satire and serious zombie film, sort of like how Hot Fuzz is both a parody of action movies and a serious action movie at the same time. Return definately functions well as both a comedy and a horror movie, not to mention it has some of the coolest special effects I’ve ever seen (just look at the ‘tar man’ depicted in the picture). The zombies in this movie just chant “braains” (and have a similar diet), that fact alone should excite the inner zombie fan in anybody. The gore is absurd and creative, the movie also sets up a surprisingly good zombie premise without it aping other horror franchises too much. It’s a nonstop array of colorful zombie fun.

1975 – Deep Red

If you’re the kind of person who likes idiosyncratic direction and intricate camera work, you should definately see some stuff by Italian horror legend Dario Argento. That’s the only way I can describe his movies. Italian horrors from this era had this real artyness to them which is on one level, sort of a dated 1970′s LSD trip. It’s about a jazz pianist (so already I like it) who becomes increasingly involved with a serious of murders…blah blah blah the plots less important than the general atmosphere, which is trippy and distrubing. It’s not as colorful as Argento’s Suspiria but this movie just feels like nothing else I’ve seen, which is where Argento’s idiosyncratic direction pops in. Whoever photographed this movie made everything shot look like a gothic painting, which is the real appeal. Even the explicit gore scenes are filmed so well that become more stylish than brutal. Some useless horror trivia: the moving doll in the movie was the inspiration for the one in the Saw series.P.S. I’ve seen this movie three times now and the acting is still just as corny as ever.

1980 – Cannibal Holocaust

Possessing quite possibly the greatest title in all of movie history, you can probably already tell if you like this or not. It’s a digusting movie through and through, it’s a possible contender for the most apalling movie ever. Nonetheless, it’s a completely original film, let me explain why. While The Blair Witch Project was the movie to popularize the whole phoney-balony documentary horror schtick, it was this very movie which really invented the whole idea. The ‘story’ is that some documentary film makers who apparently went to some scary foriegn country to get footage of the indigenous cannibals, the cannibals of course decide to make a meal out of our poor film makers who happened to leave the camera on while doing so.  The fake aspects are done really well (as well as the special effects, which will make you close your eyes) and the ‘footage’ of native cannibals is very convincing. There’s also a little arty subtext, but it’s ruined when one character thinks out loud saying “who are the real cannibals?”. The writers who have no idea of how to create subtext exposition, that’s who! Regardless of how disgusting it is (the gore is so convincing that the film makers had to appear in court because people actually thought they murdered one actress, the actress had to appear in person to confirm her not being eaten!), it’s still an original piece of horror cinema.

ANYWAY this shit’s tedious. Piss off. Here’s the trailer for Deep Red. yay.

1962 – The Jazz Soul of Little Stevie

Oh yeah, before all those R&B albums, he was indeed a jazzman! Unfortunately, Stevie’s actual involvement in the album is pretty minimal; out of nine songs he co-composed only two. He still performs the hell out every song, sounding like a true-and-true grown up jazz artist. I kind of like this album, if only for the whole novelty aspect of it all. As an actual jazz LP, it doesn’t fair very well, with most songs clocking in at under three minutes. It’s a short and shallow jazz record, with each song being extremely catchy but lacking any aesthetic significance within the realm of jazz. This isn’t vocal jazz-pop either, this is the semi-improvisional fast paced stuff which I typically eat up, or perhaps a gentle parody of such. I still dig this album nonetheless, it’s completely listenable from start to finish and Fingertips is undeniably good. Recommended for…I dunno. Fans of jazz? Fans of Stevie Wonder? Whatever, it’s alright, even if it does seem like a soundtrack to a bad cop movie at times. Score = 6.5 out of 10

1962 – Tribute To Uncle Ray

I assume he’s referring to Ray Charles, or perhaps this album exists for the purpose of worshipping some Hindu diety of shallow pop music. Gone is the whole big-band impro-jazz thing, now ‘Little Stevie’ has moved onto making accessible radio vocal-jazz-soul tunes. It all borders into that really creepy territory where pre-pubescent artists write about love. The music is ridiculously catchy, but also painfully cute. I really wish I was a child molester, I would just looooove this album. Sounds like Stevie’s balls haven’t quite dropped yet, but to be fair he has a terrific pitch-perfect voice. I did some research about the whole ‘Ray’ thing, turns out he composed every song! Unfortunatley, he didn’t pen any lyrics, meaning they were probably written by business men with music degrees without any originality or depth. The lyrics bring new meaning to the terms stock and kitsch, at one point the album amazed me with a twelve year old singing “all night long!”. Musicianship is solid, otherwise there isn’t much value. Score = 5.5 out of 10

1963 – With a Song in My Heart

…and an infection in my ear! This somehow has even less appeal than the previous two albums. This is the album where they dropped ‘little’ from Stevie’s name, so I assume this is the time he went through puberty or something. Unfortunately Stevie’s voice still has that creepy high-pitched pre-pubescent kiddie-diddlers-dream sound to it, so I guess not. As far as the sound of the album goes, it’s yet another step forward into the ‘early/predictable’ R&B part of Mr.Wonders discography, this time a lot slower and heavier on the string section. The violins up the cheese factor by about 8000 times. As far as this kind of slow/jazzy motown music goes, I’ve heard it done very well. Unfortunately for Big Stevie, the lyrical content (in actual music made by adults) is always about love making, a topic I think producers would get arrested for making a 13 year old sing about. It’s sort of like when JoJo told her boyfriend(s) to leave (I can’t believe I’m making that reference). Score: 5 out of 10

1964 – Stevie at the Beach

 Only thirteen years old, already his musical career is washed up! Luckily my ‘complete’ discography does not include this, so I don’t have to sit through it. I can only imagine the horrors of listening to 13 year Stevie sing beach songs. Let me give you an idea of how obscure this is: on rateyourmusic (a site I’d die for) Innvervisions has 2,729 ratings, this has 6.

1966 – Up-Tight Everything’s Alright

This is the point where I will stop reviewing the early albums of Stevie Wonder, for two reasons: I can’t think of any more jokes AND this is where the music actually gets good. Yup, you got it, this is his first release to qualify as actual music, as opposed to a radio-friendly parody of such. The sound is classic motown and the whole creepy kid aspect is mostly gone, there’s even a Bob Dylan cover thrown in there to add to the new found maturity. Stevie was only about a week from reaching sixteen years of age when this album was released, so I figure puberty must have occured at some point before it’s recording. My only complaint is that the lyrics are still a bit shallow (save for the Dylan cover), but what can ya do? This is shallow pop music at it’s finest, the musicians sound as if they’re actually trying! Apparently this was Stevie’s first success both financially and artistically (his involvement with the writing is much larger than before), I (surprisingly) recommend this. Score: 8 out of 10

There’s many other albums between Uptight and Music of My Mind (his absolute breakthrough) but I think you get the point. Off the top o’ my head, I can’t think of any other artist who had such a weird and prolonged entry into the history of music. Now piss off and go listen to Innervisions.

Anyway, the most popular of the power metal bands in our lame contemporary mainstream scene is the band which this post is dedicated to, Dragonforce! 2009 marks their 10 year anniversary as a hybrid band/redundant sound dispenser. I first heard of them when a friend o’ mine emailed me a file of their song ‘Fury of the Storm’. I think I used to dig it when I was 15, until upon further examination I began to despise the band. Allow me to now bring up some irrelevant and silly arguments as to why I think Dragonforce is the anti-thesis of passionate music.

The big gimmick behind Dragonforce’s music is that their guitar playing is lightning fast. This is completely true, as the band plays at three speeds: rather fast, ludicrous speed and that point in which your speakers are destroyed because the band broke the physical sound/speed laws. The band also packs a million notes into each song, making them shred-fest extrrrrrrravaganzas. I used to listen to Dragonschwartz and think to myself “this is soo amazing!” for the technicality and speed alone. The guitar work was so ridiculously technical and fast that I couldn’t help but be impressed.

Dragonsores gained mainstream fame when their songs began getting featured in guitar hero. They are THE band in which kids attempt to ‘five-star’ songs on the harder difficulties and then post videos on youtube showcasing their feats of strength. It sooo funny to actually watch someone play a song when the television isn’t very loud. While their attention is completely devoted to the matching of colorful things on the screen, the person beside them hears the excellent acoustics of it all, something I like to call the ‘spastic-plastic’ effect. clickclickclickclickclickclickclick. Anyway, I’m trying to make a point here. The only appeal I think that Dragonforeskin has is the sheer quasi-virtuoso ‘shred’ thingy that you find on their albums.

What am I trying to say here? While speed and technicality are pleasing in a hedonistic sense, I find that Dragonforce’s music is completely emotionless and empty. I hate to sound cheesy, but where is the soul of the music? I once heard a Dragon-sympathizer on youtube respond the all similar criticisms that the band seems to get, “well you’re just jealous of the ability they have!” which I think validates my point: all speed and no heart. I like my music to either: bring out an emotion, or be extremely creative. I’ve established that Dragonforce is as soulless as the shoes of 36 Vietnamese hookers after a transcontinental marathon, but can their music be interpreted as ‘creative’?

Naaaaaah. Dragonforce sounds like an extremely generic power metal band, just sped-up beyond infinity. If you want good power metal, check out some bands from Germany, which is essentially the power metal capital of the world. Also, what about Dragonforce’s songwriting/lyrical abilities? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, I’d critisize them if they were even trying. I would advise you to NEVER look at any Dragon-lyrics, which are about as redundant and embarrassing as word-play can get. Somebody should count the number of times they say words like ‘victory, darkness, battlefield, sword, bloody cave’ in their entire discography.

ANYWAY lets get some things straight before I get angry emails from fans (maybe one of my three readers likes this band). Dragonforces first two albums are good, they didn’t really suffer from redundancy. They are still emotionally retarded albums, but they at least qualify as music. That’s only half their LP’s though, so I advise you to stay away from anything newer than their first two. For what it’s worth, here’s some numeric ratings for their albums, which I’ve sat through, and often sound like one song on repeat: 2003: Valley of the Damned = 3 out of 5, 2004: Sonic Firestorm =3.5 out of 5, 2006: Inhuman Rampage: 2.5 out of 5, 2008: Ultra Beatdown= 2 out of 5.

On a personal note, their 2008 album Ultra Beatdown (lol @ lame title) was released on my friggin BIRTHDAY, along with the 2008 Slipknot album! Why did the two ‘least-anticipated of the year for me’ be released on that day? I curse the day I was born!

Here’s a song that sucks:

Alexisonfire – Old Crows/Young Cardinals

The worst (errr…least good) album in the history of this Canadian post-hardcore band. The ‘old crows’ thing always struck me as soooooooo ironic (perhaps an intentional move by the band?), especially the chorus in one song which proclaims “we are not the kids we used to be!”. In a technical sense, The Bird Album is much more simplistic than other Alexisonfire releases, it appears that less effort has been put into creative song structure and the melodies have much less notes. The band also doesn’t sound as emotional/passionate as they did on other albums, another factor which contributes to the funny irony concerning the title. Are they more mature, or just lazy? Anyhow, it’s not bad. Just a little dissapointing. Score: 3 out of 5

Alice in Chains – Black Gives Way To Blue

The first A.I.C. album in 14 years, with a new frontman! My expectations were at rock bottom, as I just assumed it would be recycled shit, being that the band was considered ‘dead’ by most people. That conclusion couldn’t have been further from reality, a this album holds up really well in the Alice timeline. No rational person expects it to live up to the masterwork of 1992′s Dirt, so let’s compare it to other albums. It’s about as good as any Alice album expect Dirt and the new frontman also sounds almost identical to the old one, it thus qualifies as a legitimately good addition to the bands discogrpahy. Plenty of variation and each track is a mountain within itself. Score: 4 out of 5

Animal Collective – Merriweather Post Pavilion

My first exposure to the legendary band. I really dig it also, despite not being able to compare it to anything else they’ve released. I wonder if there is an entire genre of neo-psychedelic stoner-pop which this band leads. Within the music community, this album is so bloody huge that I couldn’t help but give the band a chance, I do not regret this one bit. Terrific songwriting, minimalistic musicianship, general artyness, I can’t say no. Score: 4 out of 5

Maybe I’ll add in a review of the lastest album by Anthony and the Johnsons once I’ve listened to it. Till then, I’ll leave y’all with a dumb situation I was involved with at school.

Miss Polumbo sent me down to the library because a DVD she borrowed still had a lock on it. I get to the library, the person behind the desk removes the lock, I return upstairs. Unfortunately, Miss Polumbo claims that there is no DVD in the case! This is confusing, as I honestly saw one in the case. Maybe the librarian took it out of the case or something, so Polumby sends me to the library again. There is no sign of that disc. I return to the classroom, where the DVD is playing on the television. “It’s okay now” she says. What the hell happened there? Did she take out the disc and then say there was no disc? THIS MAKES GUY MADDD. HULKK SMASH

Figure A: Manowar, who are too metal for clothing.

The lyrical content is usually the most obvious contributor to whether or not something is metal. The first example of this when America started to have a metal scene in the early 80′s (which is long after British Metal existed). Metal was sent in two directions, the mainstream glam metal and the underground thrash metal (many thrash bands gained extreme success, like Metallica/Megadeth/Slayer, but the sales were still microscopic in comparison to glam). Glam bands wrote lyrics about girls, motorbikes, partying, all that kind of chauvinistic stuff I don’t really care for. Thrash bands wrote about politics, religion, violence in history, all that quasi-intellectual stuff I like to eat up. Thrash fans hated the glam bands and called them pop groups with guitars. The glam fans then…dropped out and died of overdose becasue they sucked so much ass.

In the modern metal world, this kind of thing still goes on. Nu-Metal (which is elitist slang for Un-Metal) is the subject of ridicule within the actual metal community because of lyrics, which appeal to the tween demographic (I’ll get to the music later, which sucks fat arse also). Non-metal fans don’t typically think of lyricism when they hear the guttural vocals, but most competent metal fans will snob a band to the point of death for writing shitty teenie-bopper lyrics. Nu-Metal bands (which is today’s equivilant of glam metal) typically write lyrics about broken hearts and how much they hate their lives, resulting in many emo teens relating to the lyrics. Metalcore (which is another uber-popular metal genre) lyrics often cover similar subject matter, also not exclusivley. There are plenty of quality metalcore bands, just the big ones like Atreyu suck ass. Most metal fans (who are over 14 and not emo) dig the scarier stuff about politics, religion, gore and sadism, you get the picture. Emo and party lyrics are not metal.

Figure B: Atreyu. I think their eyeliner reflects what kind of lyrical ground they cover.

The other really big thing is the actual ‘music’ element. There’s quite a few levels to this one, so bear with me. Remember that 14-year-old wanker I mentioned earlier? That guy represents metal newbies who look for the ‘heaviest’ guitar tone and don’t care about anything else. I know, that kid was me at that age. That kid will not listen to anything that isn’t low tuned or crunchy, and anything that isn’t is proclaimed as ‘pussy shit’. That’s where you get popular metal bands who either mindlessly crunch away or play simplistic low tuned riffs, that kind of stuff satisfies that your internal bigot who wants to destroy stuff for no apparent reason. Metal snobs will tell you this time of stuff is simplistic and has no musical value, it is also very not metal ! Here’s an example of a cheap two-note riff (p.s. I actually really like this song for the stupid, macho piece of shit that it is, but it’s still a perfect example of what I’m talkin’ about)

Bands that play simplistic/catchy stuff get no respect within the general metal snob community. I personally speak for most fans when I say I hunt for stuff that is: technically complex, innovative and original or something which strikes me on an emotional level which isn’t prepubescent rage. I do indeed love death-metal, which most people don’t associate with talent, incorrectly. General aggresiveness is certainly a part of that stuff, but that certainly doesn’t make it ‘lazy’ or invalid as music. Death-metal is just as technically complex as any other form of music, just the guitars are crunchy and detractors will tell you it isn’t ‘beautiful music’. Throw poo at those people. Here’s an example of ‘technical death metal’ (a sub-sub-genre rooted somewhat in jazz music).

So what is true metal? Well I think all definitions basically come down to being as un-poppy as possible, as metal fans like myself don’t want our precious music tainted by the mainstream. I’ve seen people get carried away with their contrived ideas and not like anything with clean vocals, which never made much sense to me, but that’s beyond the point. To me, metal is the polar opposite of the glamorized, packaged mediocridy known as the mainstream. I think that a lot of fans see it the same way also, thus anything that is poppy is extremely not metal. There is a fair share crappy pop-metal bands, but nobody except angry 14-year-olds like that stuff. Point is, metal snobs are just like the snobs from any genre of music, we want to hear the unglamorized and itellectually stimulating stuff as opposed to anything found on BET. Metal is obviously no less or more valid than any other genre, it all boils down to personal preference in that regard. I will leave you now with an informative scene from the upcoming Brutal Legend.

There’s the two covers, depending on which issue you got. You know, for an album with a title like that, I don’t detect anything risque. The cover on the left just simply sucks ass, it’s full of empty space and a mouse trap. It’s not even aesthetically presentable. The one on the right is a little better, although only for the sake of comparison. It’s still an uncreative image with obvious symbolism. Mouse and mousetrap…risky right? These covers just seem sterile and lame, especially when compared to other Megadeth albums.

As you probably know, a band experimenting with their sound can have mixed results. You ‘risk’ alienating the fan base, becoming pretentious, blah blah blah. In the 90′s, Megadeth sort of abandoned their jazz-like thrash sound in favor of more…radio friendly approach. They have some good records in this sound (see 1992′s Countdown to Extinction) but this particular album Risk basically acts a blueprint of ‘what not to do’ when changing your sound. Rather than evolve creatively, Megadeth sounds toned down, jejune, anti-technical, and god forbid they swim into the waters of…alternative rock (the thought of which sends chills down my spine). The title is so bloody ironic, this being significantly less risky than the stuff they put out in the 1980′s.

What most people remember (and subsequently bitch about) on Risk is the fourth track, ‘Crush ‘Em’. Not only is the most infamous track in the history of Megadeth, it is also one of the most notorious metal tunes of all time. Guitar World went so far as including it in the top ten of their “Worst Riffs, Licks and Solos” list. Allow me to explain a little bit, I’ve looked at interview with Mustaine and I’ve attempted to get to the bottom of this song. Dave Musty was trying to create an athem-like song influenced by golden age hockey songs, a song specifically crafted to play at sporting events. This whole ‘risk’ results in one of the most bizarre songs ever: with a weird funky bass line, lyrics about arenas, one of those irritating/catchy riffs that sticks in your head despite being horrible. You get the picture. I’ll link it later…the hockey anthem made by the 80′s thrash band.

There’s some innovation to be found on Risk but the vast majority of the album is just dull and lazy. What would possess Dave Mustaine to experiment with grungy alt-rock and hockey anthems? I always Megadeth materpieces like Peace Sells and Rust In Peace for the enigmatic song structures, clever political lyrics, all that jazz. Risk takes no musical ‘risks’ and plays it by the books, eschewing the experimentation and compensating in bloated, comatose wankery. The one thing going for it? It’s not as bad as St.Anger.

2.5 out of 5

Here’s that weird sports song I was complaining about, complete with an equally dumb video that I never actually watched until now. WARNING: do not let anybody catch you watching this, it’s really embarrassing.

Recession Tales I: The Self-Made Man

            Dradyell Ryan pointed his radar-gun at the nearest car, which appeared to be speeding. Since the car exceeded the speed limitation designated by the Region of Peel, Dradyell decided to pursue the vehicle on his previously concealed motorbike. His bike zipped out of the forest with a crudely orgasmic engine revving, determined to make this offender of speed pay for his crime. Although it was an absolute pleasure to experience the intoxicating rush of the chase, the speeding car pulled over almost immediately to comply with the man in uniform. Dradyell stepped off his bike and approached the devious driver, who rolled down his window as quickly as he could.

            “My fellow citizen, do you know how fast you were just going?” asked Dradyell, whose helmet shined brightly in the daylight because it had been polished with borderline psychotic enthusiasm.

            “Yeah” said the driver, who was as fat and disgusting as he was drunk.

            “You know, my good sir, there is a designation which prevents degenerates like you from exceeding a certain speed, in order to protect the general public from unfortunate automobile accidents.”

            “Huh?”

            “You we’re speeding, sir.”

            “Oh-uh yeah. I guess I was then. Can you let me off with a uh…warning or something?”

            “You do not understand, citizen. If I were to let everyone off with a warning, the laws would lose their relevance and more offenders would violate the speed limit, as a result I would be putting the lives of pedestrians at risk.”

            “What?”

            “Clearly, fellow citizen, it would not be in your best interest for me to test your gluttonous excuse of a body for alcohol!”

            The sudden mention of the words test and alcohol caused the drunken fat man to panic. In a manic attempt to organize himself, he pulled out his registration from the glove compartment, his frantic arms bumping into everything in range.

            “Uh, I got all the papers and-”

            “No need for those, citizen. Perhaps a legal settlement is in order, where you can give me a down payment on your fine for the next time you speed, and perhaps I will not put this particular endeavor of your on record.”

            The hybrid pig/human being understood Dradyell, even though most of the cold technical terms confused him. The glutton laughed, the tone of his hardy guffaw flickering up and down schizophrenically. He managed to get his wallet out of his rump pocket after rumbling with himself for dozen-or-so seconds.

            “Yeah, yeah, I got ya, officer. A little, uh, cash settlement, to set this shit right, yeah?” the fatman raised his wallet to the height of the window. A taunting 50 dollar bill stuck its head out of the leather fortress of credit cards and prophylactics.

             After claiming his prize, Dradyell told the human sized pig to drive safely and continue being a model citizen. The vehicle-bound bacon sandwich seemed to neglect those words and drove off as quickly as he came. Dradyell returned to his well thought-out hiding place inside the woods, where his several protégé students awaited.

            “Nice work Mr. Ryan, you must have got a days worth of pay off of that guy, you can call it quits right now if you want to!” said one student, sitting on a lawn chair.

            “This is what we call a successful business transaction, my students!” replied Dradyell.

            “Are you gonna go home after that one?” said another student.

            “You must understand, student. A true entrepreneur must not be satisfied with any immediate profit that he gains.”

            “How much can you make in a typical business week then, Mr. Ryan?”

            “Your profit will reflect your choice of time and place, student. The marketplace is not the same in every region of this country, or even this city. To gain the greatest amount of profit from your venture, you must carefully select a spot to conduct business. The most important aspect of a market is to firstly find a road in which many drivers exceed the designated speed limit. Large, open roads are typically good for that purpose. You must then make sure there is a place to stay concealed, such as this forest along the side of the road. That way, the consumer does not notice your presence and thus makes it easier for you to gain customers. It is also wise to line up your venture with an event in which event-goers consume alcohol, that way it more likely for them to exceed the speed limit. To answer your question, student, a good week can bring anywhere from one thousand dollars to three thousand.”

            The young teenage students frantically took down notes while their teacher spoke. One student, however, did not seem to be up to the task of writing down information. The teen seemed to have a questioning and cynical look on his face, very doubtful of how ethical Mr. Ryan’s business practices were. He put his pencil down and stood up to talk to his instructor.

            “What is the point of all this?” asked that one student, whose name was Sanyo.

            “Whatever do you mean by that, student?”

            “I do not understand why you choose to do this as a career, Mr. Ryan. This lacks any purpose.”

            “My student, you are ignorant towards the very fundamentals of the economy! The purpose of a business is to make a profit, and that is the foundation of capitalism.”

            “I always thought that you should go into a work field that you are passionate about.”

            “These thoughts that reside within your head, student, while they are indeed admirable statements, you must understand that I am an entrepreneur! I am passionate about the marketplace and profit.”

            “Something tells me this isn’t a career field that many adults your age would admire.”

            “Student, you try my patience with this quasi-intellectual nonsense! Your mind exists within a prison, one that obstructs it from thinking like a rational business person. To sooner you break down your contrived mental barriers, the sooner you will become a competent person in the world of profit!”

            “Why doesn’t anybody else do this as a job?”

            “Do you not see the world around you, Sanyo? There are speed operators such as myself all around the streets. That is what defines a competitive marketplace.”

            “But they are with the Region of Peel police force; they collect tickets and gain a steady income.”

            Dradyell smugly laughed at Sanyo’s contradiction and began to walk towards one of his several briefcases. He picked it up, opened it and collected an odd looking book. There were several identical books remaining in the briefcase.

            “Sanyo, I think you should read this book. It will help you better understand the true entrepreneur business idealism which has lead to me to my success.”

            Dradyell handed the Sanyo the book, which was titled The Hatless Rugged Man by Fay Daynrend. It did not look like any other book Sanyo had ever seen, its pages were held together by circular prongs and the paper appeared to be of the common Xerox brand available in stores. It looked rather dodgy, to say the least.

            “I’ve never heard of this writer.” said Sanyo “Is this a novel?”

            “It was written by me, under alias. Many writers use a false name to protect their identities and personal lives.”

            “What does this have to do with anything?”

            “You see, student, I can tell that your mind has been warped by liberal and anti-capitalist ideas. I didn’t know that these public schools you go to fill your head with nonsense of this level. Reading this book I wrote will help you understand what makes the world go around.”

            Perplexed by the sudden barrage of information, Sanyo assumed that Dradyell’s seniority made his opinion more valid than his own. At that point he had given up attempting to contradict his teacher; he thanked him for the book and said he’d read some of it when he got home. Sanyo packed the book away into his bag, though he still remained very skeptical of Mr. Ryan’s career of choice. He slumped back into the chair he had brought to this bizarrely placed lecture.

            “That brings me to another important part of this lesson, students!’ said Dradyell, speaking to the entire half dozen of students he had managed to make attend his quaint educational course “I see this as an opportunity to enlighten all of you on the philosophy of the profit and work.”

            In the interest of getting their moneys-worth out of this lecture, the students all paid close attention to Mr. Ryan’s teachings. This was not a class that you could receive in a typical school; Dradyell had convinced a few business students in a nearby high school to pay him ten dollars each to observe his everyday work cycle. Dradyell was a fairly well known name within the neighborhood, acclaimed in some underground circles for his ability to make a profit without being taxed.

            Dradyell began to walk towards the road, his students following. He then proceeded to walk east for a short period of time until he reached a sign which instructed drivers to ‘slow down’ because a sharp turn was a few hundred yards ahead of that point. He said the sign would later be of importance within the lesson.

            “Students, I now teach you about government intervention and how liberalism has put the economy into the toilet.” said Dradyell, adamant to make his point clear “The government will always attempt to take steal away the profit you earn from your hard work. Does anybody know how they do this?”

            Nobody seemed to understand the question.

            “You see, students, surely you have heard of income tax.” The student at least knew what that was. “The government will attempt to take a chunk of your hard earned money and keep it for themselves, even though the people who take it have nothing to do with your profession.”

            “Doesn’t that money go towards things like schools and road repairs?” asked one student who had taken a rudimentary course in high school concerning economics.

            “Pah! Student, what you must understand is that the majority of that money does not go to admirable things. Much of it is spent on helping the lazy and incompetent underachievers, the people who do not consider them self decent enough to work and thus would rather utilize welfare as a source of income. It is indeed true, a small portion does go to public schools and unionized workers who fix things, but how absurd it is to judge income tax on those principles! If you are seeking a decent education, I suggest attend a private school, which is one that is not owned by the government and does not need to leech off of the money earned by career people! The same goes for fixing roads and such, if one desires for a road to be paved, nothing is preventing somebody from hiring honest workers to repair it!”

            “Tell me how this relates to the aforementioned Peel Regional police force who work for the city.” said Sanyo.

            “Sanyo, for a person who is ignorant towards the true ways of the world, you are very well articulated.” complimented Dradyell “You still, however, lack the rudimentary knowledge of the business world which is necessary to become an entrepreneur. Those Peel Region speed operators…they are nothing but cooperate tools.”

            “You realize that you are misrepresenting yourself as an officer, right?”

            “Sanyo, my uniform may resemble that of a corporate officer, but I never claim to be one of them.”

            “But the people you pull over, do they not believe you are an officer?”

            “You are completely missing the point, student! I am an entrepreneur, what I see is profit. There is money to be made in the operation of speed. Just because I am not with a mainstream organization of sorts, I still serve a purpose in society. The purpose of my work is obviously to make a profit, as that is the purpose of any business, but I also serve an admirable social function. Many of my customers will be discouraged to drive in a way that is detrimental to the safety of the general public. While that discouragement may make the market decrease in size, that is an inevitability. Anyway, for those purposes, I choose not to associate myself with Region of Peel.”

            Dradyell opened his briefcase and pulled out an intimidating mechanism with a fairly large rotating saw blade. After snapping a few other strange looking tools to it, it appeared to be something used to cut through things. He smiled as he glanced up at the sign to which he had brought the students to.

            “Now, there is significance to why I brought you all here to this sign, my students! You see, the business world is very Darwinian. By that I mean, only the absolute fittest will succeed and make a profit. This sign that you see discourages people to speed, making it an admirable foe in my business venture! The Region of Peel has set this sign here because I suspect they want to attract speeders to other regions of the city where they have speed operators. You cannot have operators everywhere; otherwise it would flood the market and make profit difficult to come by.”

            Dradyell then proceeded to activate his mechanical buzz saw, the loudness of which disturbed several students. His face lit up like a demented Christmas tree as he connected his device with the body of the sign, sparks flew in every which direction. Within a matter of seconds the device sliced through the metal pole, the sign retired onto the road immediately.

            “Would anybody like to keep this as a souvenier?” asked Dradyell, excited about his work. He gave it to one impressed student.

            “You see, my students, there will always be competition in the business world to gain more profit. The government may regulate laws to make it illegal for me to conduct my business the way I feel most appropriate, for instance I could get arrested for what I just did. What it is my responsibility as a business man to be as clever as possible with my work and thus succeed.”

            Dradyell lead his class back to the spot in the forest which they have previously been. He told the student who had the sign to not tell his parents how he got it, which would compromise his business venture. Mr. Ryan continued to speak about how the American liberal workman had ruined the marketplace and that hard work is the key to true success, as opposed to government handouts. None of the students truly understood what he meant except Sanyo, who looked for any opportunity to argue against Dradyell. For another half an hour the road remained free of any potential customers and the teacher took the time to lecture his students about profit.

            The lesson eventually neared its completion and the students felt vaguely ripped off. They had paid in expectation to find out secrets about the business world and had instead been enlightened on how to sucker people into bribing a bogus traffic cop. They all thanked Mr. Ryan for the lesson although none of them intended to ever follow in his footsteps.

            The students all packed up their lawn chairs and headed towards Sanyo’s van, which was in a parking lot two blocks down. Dradyell felt proud of himself for enlightening these teenagers on the true ways of the business man, he had also managed to make sixty dollars out of merely letting the students observe his routine. This indeed was business day well spent, although he vaguely regretted giving the student the road sign. That move could potentially compromise his venture and he could have added that sign to his collection of decapitated road signs, which resided gruesomely on his wall as a symbol of courage and determination to succeed in his field.

            Dradyell packed his operation tools into his briefcases and decided to sign out of the office, or so to speak. He had put in approximately 15 hours of hard work today, although he had no social life to speak of outside his job. Since he could not keep his money in a cooperate bank account, he had to keep his profit in the form of exclusively cash and thus could not rent an apartment. His current home was in the basement of a suburban family who knew it was wiser to leave him alone and just accept cash. He never missed a payment or fell into debt, so no problems ever had risen from this. Whenever they asked about his career he would give them long winded speeches like the ones he gave to his students, the owners of the house had thus learned the subject best be avoided.

            Dradyell activated his motorcycle and proceeded to exit his hiding spot in the forest. He drove along the roads as efficiently as he could without getting noticed by enemy speed operators. He knew all the radar spots and considered himself to be an admirable social presence, thus making the speed limit irrelevant to him.

            When he reached the end of a rather empty road, Dradyell noticed a small obstruction in the path, just perhaps a small animal which would soon either move or learn first hand about Darwinian evolution. He laughed its inferior intelligence before driving over it; Dradyell had unfortunately underestimated the power of the obstruction. This is was no petty animal; it was a man made land mine.

            Dradyell was sent diagonally into the air, his apex reaching nearly twenty feet high while still moving at 132 kilometers per hour. Eventually his torso made contact with a light pole, causing his legs to detach and fly in one direction while the rest of his body reached the ground. The sudden shock made it difficult for Dradyell to articulate himself.

            “Ah, ha-ha-ha! A perfect winner, would you look at that!” said a figure who stepped out of the nearby woods. “Dang, we could get quite a fair amount of cash for body parts like the ones on this chap!”

            Dradyell vainly dragged himself to the sidewalk with his remaining limbs as the stranger walked closer to him. Several other associated figures followed the man out of the woods.

            “On a motorcycle, what luck has befallen us!” said another shady figure. “And in good physical condition to, except for the uh, separation! Got a split personality have we there, biker-boy?” all of his cronies howled with laughter.

            The largest man of the pack now stood right in front of Dradyell’s barely alive body. The man carried a bunch of tools which didn’t look too far off from the ones Dradyell used to defeat the road sign.

            “It’s our lucky day thanks to you, biker. A middle aged man, nice body, doesn’t look like you’re a smoker either. I could get a nice seven grand off your lungs if don’t. I’ll give you a royalty check, I promise!” the goons nearly passed out with more laughter.

            Dradyell mumbled incoherently before the men used their work tools to disassemble him. The workers tossed around his fingers and ears between each other. His chest wide open to the evening air, the large man grabbed Dradyell’s still beating heart with his greasy palm and uttered a few words before Dradyell expired.

            “Sorry mate, nothing personal. Just business is all.”

My neighbor’s house is more prominent in the first screenshot, the backyard in the second screenshot also belongs to my neighbor. You see those bricks obscured by bushes in the left hald of the second shot? I was wacthing from a window only a few feet slightly above those bricks, I thought my face might be in the shot. But they cropped me out. I’m not sure exactly which networks have this commercial on rotation, but I think if you watch hockey and you live in the general Mississauga or Toronto area, you’ll see it. Here’s the actual commercial:

Poor Steve, his car is the subject of ridicule throughout the entire world! His friends even laugh right at his face, despite them potentially not even owning a car. Kids in oriental schools and the cast of City of God even laugh at this schmuck, you’d think he’d have gotten a new ride already. Steve should seek professional help. Eventually he does get a new car, but not before the constant global ridicule he goes through (in some spectacular character development courtesy of the writers at Subaru).

That first shot of his two pals laughing at him took 40+people to shot, with the massive light reflector which provided lighting for the scene, even in broad daylight. Also, do you hear that joke they make during the barbeque scene? That took about 2 hours worth of takes. I listened to that gag for hours, and it was TOTALLY as funny the umpteenth billion time. Also notice that thing on the grill, I don’t recall what exactly it was but it was extremely burnt and unedible by the end of the filming. I swear that in the later takes, they just put some braches of a nearby bush into the grill, also notice how it’s color is either burning orange or charcoal black.

My father aksed for a part in the commercial and the producers said they would have him walking in the background. Unfortunately, nobody seemed to actually give a hoot about following up on that statement, thus no role for Daddy. He did manage to get a few chicken wraps by talking his way to the food coolers, so it wasn’t a total loss. I ate that wrap right in front of the crew to spite them. Anyway, fun thing to watch. I wonder if it will singlehandley bring the general automobile industry out of the gutter.