Monthly Archives: October 2010

Cures for a rainy day

My fixation on the Drive-By Truckers has now lasted about as long as my obsession with Husker Du, only with the advantage that the DBTs aren’t about to break up. I think. It seemed like the Huskers blew up just as the world was starting to appreciate them. That doesn’t seem to be in the cards for the DBTs.  Stylistically the bands have nothing in common but electric  guitars and a taste for feedback, but they share (shared) a severe work ethic that also seems (seemed) to bring out the best in their songwriting. That means a harvest of B-sides and oddments every bit as good as the tunes that make (made) it onto the official albums. Up top, DBT Patterson Hood does a solo version of “George Jones Talkin’ Cell Phone Blues,” from the DBT odds’n’sods collection The Fine Print. I’m adding it to the bookstore sound system, because like the Husker’s “Celebrated Summer” it makes perfect leadfoot music for a drive to the shore. Which is just the kind of thing I want to hear right now.

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Quote of the Day

From writer and raconteur John Scalzi:

I really don’t know what you do about the “taxes are theft” crowd, except possibly enter a gambling pool regarding just how long after their no-tax utopia comes true that their generally white, generally entitled, generally soft and pudgy asses are turned into thin strips of Objectivist Jerky by the sort of pitiless sociopath who is actually prepped and ready to live in the world that logically follows these people’s fondest desires. Sorry, guys. I know you all thought you were going to be one of those paying a nickel for your cigarettes in Galt Gulch. That’ll be a fine last thought for you as the starving remnants of the society of takers closes in with their flensing tools.

Speaking of Galt Gulch, here are Scalzi’s amusing thoughts on Atlas Shrugged.

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I knew it all along

I always said The Wire was a work of genius. Now it turns out the MacArthur Foundation agrees with me.

Incidentally, I’m still juiced by the fact that the audio version of my book The Last Three Miles: Politics, Murder, and the Construction of America’s First Superhighway is read by Wire alumnus Dion Graham.

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In the company of dicks

Ever seen Neil LaBute’s movie, In the Company of Men? I think Neil LaBute forecast the turn movement conservatism was about to take:

When CNN reporter Abbie Boudreau flew to Maryland to meet with James O’Keefe, she thought she was meeting him in his office to talk about a documentary she was working on about young conservatives. Instead, she found herself at his house, where his organization’s executive director was near tears as she warned Boudreau that O’Keefe was trying to lure her onto his boat in order to seduce her in front of hidden cameras in order to “punk” CNN.

O’Keefe is the protege of Andrew Breitbart, the grubby little smear merchant who ran doctored videos of Shirley Sherrod a couple of months ago.

Now that Tom Six is wrapping up his first sequel to The Human Centipede, I suggest he cast Breitbart and O’Keefe as the middle and end pieces should The Human Centipede 3 ever take form.

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