Friday, September 14, 2001

Umm... Am I the only person unsettled by the image of people in Nazi uniforms leading a theater full of people in singing "God Bless America"?
They want it that way: Forwarded to me via email:
The Backstreet Boys have spoken out against going to war. Here's Kevin's take on things: "I just think we're a little bit of an arrogant nation, and maybe this is a bit of a humbling experience... it raises the question in my mind, What has our government done to evoke or provoke this action, that maybe we don't know about?" Who knew the BSB could be more thoughtful than your average TV reporter?
Perhaps it's important to remember that, along with mourning and unity, now is also a time for introspection. I want justice, but not at the cost of the rest of the world.

Thursday, September 13, 2001

The rumor's false: As I suspected, Whitney Houston is still alive. However, the picture accompanying the article denying the rumors goes a long way towards explaining why they surfaced in the first place. I never thought I'd see Whitney in such disarray. She looks like a crackhead; no wonder people assumed she was on the verge of ODing.
HUGE HONKIN' RUMOR: Someone just slipped me a rumor that Whitney Houston died of a drug overdose. I have found no confirmation of this anywhere on the web, so I find it highly suspect.

On a complete tangent, I'm listening to Craig David's Fill Me In and am mildly appalled at how much the song "Walking Away" sounds like U2's "One".

LondonIndieNYC: A group in London are attempting to put together a benefit gig for the victims of the terrorist attacks. Click the link for more info; so far, the only definite info is that it's going to happen on October 12.
Point to the terrorists: I'm frightened after all, but not of them. I'm frightened of what we're going to do to ourselves.
Reflections on a moment: Listening to "Violence" by Pet Shop Boys has almost driven me to tears. Is it possible for us to work through this without demonizing and persecuting hundreds of thousands of innocent Arab-American citizens who are just as shocked and disgusted as we are? Are we doomed to a self-fulfilling prohpecy of America stepping into the role of "The Great Satan" and lobbing missiles at incorrect targets? I've heard people talking about using nuclear weaponry against the perpetrators; in what parallel universe would that make things better?

How do I reconcile these fears and misgivings with my own desire to see the heads of the people responsible roll?

The pessimist in me feels that it is inescapable; we've started down the path towards World War III. The optimist in me is sobbing his eyes out. I don't know what to do; I'm somewhat paralyzed at work and when I get home I can't escape the coverage; my wife is glued to the television, desperate for scraps of information so that she can piece the puzzle together. (Her secret fantasy of being an FBI investigator isn't so secret anymore, ho-ho.) The thoughts that have taken up my mind revolve around figuring out the most peaceful solution to this mess. I'm glad that NATO has gotten involved, as I don't trust the American government to make rational decisions at this point in time. Perhaps three weeks from now I will, but right now the united Congress and President strike me as deeply frightened people looking for something to strike that will banish the darkness. I hope and pray that they wait for things to calm down before evaluating how drastic their response should be.

I had a point I was going to make about that Pet Shop Boys song, but it seems inappropriate to talk about how the cyclical musical structure supports the lyrics talking about violence breeding violence in the face of so much tragedy. It's too soon for all of that.

Wednesday, September 12, 2001

10 albums you should listen to:
Music Has A Right To Children - Boards Of Canada
Blood - This Mortal Coil
Chill Out - The KLF
Rev - Ultra Vivid Scene
Seal (I) - Seal
Hatful Of Hollow - The Smiths
Japanese Whispers - The Cure
Movement - New Order
The Low End Theory - A Tribe Called Quest
Stabat Mater - Francis Poulenc

Tuesday, September 11, 2001

Update #2: Mike Daddino is okay.
Update: I've checked in with relatives; all of the immediate ones are safe, as are many of my friends in New York. I am disturbed, however, because there are several friends from college whom I can't contact as well as a good Internet friend, Mike Daddino. I'm hoping and praying that he's okay; Mike worked in the World Trade Center.

One thing I can say about this situation is that terrorist attacks do not make me afraid; they make me FUCKING ANGRY. This was completely senseless and unnecessary. The fact that there are Palestinians CELEBRATING is making my blood boil. I'd like to hunt down every person celebrating this tragedy. Oddly, I also feel like there's something I should have been able to do to prevent this from happening. Clearly this is a stupid and egotistical feeling; life is not a Hollywood blockbuster action flick and a singing computer programmer with moxie would last about ten seconds against the forces that put this operation together. Still, I'd like to see the correct people pay for this tragedy. ("Correct" is a non-trivial qualifier; as much as I want to bomb someone into oblivion over this, it would be a far greater tragedy if a target was arbitrarily or hastily picked as a convenient scapegoat and the real perpetrators never faced justice.)

Oh my God. I have friends who work in the World Trade Center. This is incredibly shocking, largely because this is the first tragedy worthy of national news coverage where I could directly know people killed in the accident.

Plans to move to New York are officially on hold.

Monday, September 10, 2001

Michael Jackson tribute: Off the Wall! Okay, this does it. I'm moving to New York. I can't believe I missed this tacky spectacle. This would have been my personal highlight:
What followed was the first in a series of bizarro onstage spectacles. After the opening number and a five-minute break, the house lights finally came up to reveal a portly Marlon Brando lounging in a leather recliner onstage and donning dark shades.

"I'm Marlon Brando," Brando began, in what's become his customary soliloquy. "In any event while your...wondering who that old fat fart is sitting there...I wanted you to realize that in that minute there were hundreds if not thousands of children hacked to death with a machete, beaten to death by their parents, got typhus and died of a disease."

After jarring the audience to attention, the legendary film star then plugged the popster's Website,, while Jackson himself looked on, sitting beside the stage with best pal Elizabeth Taylor.

Dammit, why don't the freaks come to Boston every now and then?

(Thanks to Dave Popshots for pointing me towards this.)