Syndicated Live!

7.14.2007

Cell phones rule...

I made my way through the sea of faces. It was dark, which made it even more difficult. I knew I only had mere moments before it all started. I thought, ‘There’s no way I’m going to make it in time…” Just as I slipped into my seat, the lights dimmed, and the band walked onto the stage and picked up their instruments. Immediately the drums thundered, the bass boomed and the electric guitar screamed. Then, Roger Waters sings, ‘So ya… thought ya… might like to… go to the show.’ The sound was perfect. I could hear every note, every word, as my seat was just next to the sound technicians… the perfect place to be, and center stage at that. Only 3 sections back, there wasn’t a step taken on stage that I couldn’t see clearly. ‘That one is Jewish… and look, that ones smoking a joint… get them up against the wall…’ The screen behind flashing images of walking hammers periodically washed out by blasts of fire coming from behind that band. The song winded down, ending with the sound of an airplane spinning out of control and crashing behind us… then the screen went black. The crowd went wild, naturally, and I thought to myself, ‘That was just the first song.’ They followed with Have A Cigar.

I managed to snap a picture of Roger Waters standing in front of a video of him walking through a wheat field when he was younger. A white blast of sparks igniting behind him. Good thing I brought my camera phone in here. I love technology. Waters grabs an acoustic guitar in the dark, and goes right into Mother as the lights all focus on him. I made sure I kept snapping pictures at the appropriate time. I got a great one of the screen with a close up of Sid Barrett during Shine On You Crazy Diamond as thousands of bubbles filled the room we stood in; the few lights that were on shimmered through the slowly falling bubbles, which would sparkle softly as they burst.

The show was originally scheduled for a Friday night, but ours got moved to Thursday night. Because of that, my wife wasn’t able to join me like originally planned. Unfortunate, as we weren’t even half way done and I already didn’t know what to do with myself. So, when Wish You Were Here came on, I sent her a text message saying the same. She wrote back saying her and the little one were going to bed, and hoped I was having fun. I knew she got the reference… and the sentiment.

I wasn’t sure what to expect of Waters' solo work. I’ve heard some of the albums. It’s not bad, I’m just not familiar with it. No matter, as he played a song or two from one off those albums, and that too, was incredible. At the time, I was making my way back to my seat again, as I felt it was time for a refreshment. Just as I was getting back, I could hear Pigs On The Wing start. Soon after, 4 stage hands walked through the crowd towing a giant inflatable pig. The pig flew above us, covered in various graffiti style messages. Of course, I got pictures of them as well. Things like ‘All Religions Divide’, ‘Freedom At Last’, and ‘Fear Builds Walls’ where adorned on the sides and bottom of the animal. As I listened, and watched, the pig got closer and closer. It was just as it was passing overhead that I noticed what was written on the back end of the pig. Right below the tail where the words ‘Bush – What An Asshole’ with an arrow pointing to the pigs… well, asshole.

Vera begins. I always forget how great that song is. The drums march builds, and bombs explode on stage while the words ‘Bring The Boys Back Home’ pierce through the air. An image of every nation's flag involved in the current war fades on and off the screen. Call it lamely patriotic, but I waited until the American flag was up to take my picture. It was fittingly during the line, ‘Don’t leave your children out there all alone.’ The song came to the end. Roger Waters announced, ‘We are going to take a 15 minute break, then we are coming back and doing Dark Side Of The Moon. Bring it.

During this break I wondered how it was that we came to be here. In decades past, if someone from another country came here and made public statements like that, the place would have rioted. It just shows you where we stand politically at this point. It’s unfortunate, really. Obviously we can’t hide it. Everyone knows. Yet, no one seems to be doing anything about it. At least we have the freedom to say what we want, but how much longer is that going to last? Scary times we live in, whether one wants to admit it or not.

15 minutes isn’t long enough for this discussion, as I soon noted, when the image of a moon appeared on the screen. No sound could be heard but a heart beat. A satellite popped out from behind the moon and floated towards me. The light on it blinking in rhythm with the heart beats. Then Speak To Me/Breath began. Dark Side Of The Moon, live, in its entirety? Again, I say, bring it. It was all perfect. Right into On The Run. I got a picture of spinning rainbows and the band jammed on. The next picture I snapped was classic; a close up of Roger Waters making the tock-ticking on his bass. Behind him, hundreds of clocks floated towards the audience. He never stopped making the ticking through the entire drum solo, which I got a picture of as well. The drum solo was second to none, and was 8 minutes long if it was a second. Pounding on the tom toms next to the drum kit he used through out the rest of the show, the percussionist slipped seamlessly back into his seat to begin Time. Excuse the pun, but he never missed a beat. Time floated into Great Gig In The Sky. I apologize, as I was too entranced by the vocal solo to even think about a picture. All I could think about was, ‘How the hell do you audition for that?’ Words can’t describe.

Us and Them, and Any Colour You Like followed. It was during Brain Damage when I was taking pictures of Bush standing in front of a wall with words like, ‘Shame on you Bush’ written on them that I wished this concert wouldn’t end. As Eclipse came to a close, which was no rushed event I might add, images of Bush waving goodbye in military garb where followed by Nancy Reagan waving goodbye from the back of a limo. The lights came on, and each of the 11 people on stage held hands, bowed, blew kisses and walked off. Roger Waters tossed his pick to someone in the crowd as he left. The crowd pleaded for an encore. The walking off, at this point, was just a formality.

It wasn’t more then 5 minutes before everyone came back out. We were thanked again. The band was introduced; each of the 11 members on stage received the same roaring ovation. Each responded with a sincere grateful bow through pressed hands held to their lips. The lights went dark. The sound of a helicopter flew around the crowd. A spot light from above searched through looking for someone. It stopped on the 5 foot radius that we stood in, and before I realized what was happening, I hear Roger scream, ‘You! Yes you behind the bike shed… stand still laddie!’ It was at that point I thought there was someone in my head, but it’s not me. Following that was Comfortably Numb. A great song, obviously. And one that many people in the audience would have felt cheated had they not heard. The light show I couldn’t begin to explain… but thank Moses I had my camera.

I’m driving home, as it’s now 1 am after we finally got out of the parking lot. I’m sitting in the back thinking about how I can possibly explain what I just experience. I’m looking through all the pictures from that night, planning my eventual article. The picture were intermixed with all from that week. All great pictures, none-the-less. As I made my way in the door and began to load my picture on the computer, judging the importance and order, I realized which one was the most important. I realized which one would perfectly round out the evening. One perfect image. Cell phones rule…



6.11.2007

ButtSwiper

Before I proceed, I want you all to know, that I have made nothing up. This is all completely true. I'm even going to try, with all my might, to not embelish too much with this story. Butt I make no guarentees. The reason for my attempt to curb my standard sarcasm? Frankly, you can't make this shit up.

In Rochester NY a woman has been arrested for theft, and is facing 3 years in prison for the crime. Butt what, I'm sure you are asking, did she attempt to swipe that would warrant such jack assery? I mean, seriously. I scratch my butt in confusion. The answer, my friends, is toilet paper. Yep, toilet paper.

No big deal, right? Who gives a flushing shit? Well, she tried to swipe it from the local court house. She was seen stuffing her bra (not embellishing) with the items in question, by another 'patron' and was reported to the police. I couldn't even give two shits about what kind of person would turn someone in for stealing toilet paper.

Now, I know, at this point, you are all saying to yourself, 'What the shit? This story sucks hard monkey crap!' And I would agree with you... normally. The reason why I don't agree is because I have left out one very important detail. That is, the offending ass wipers name. I did so in a vain attempt to allow you to prepare yourself... butt it's not possible to fully prepare.

Amanda Butts was arrested in Rochester NY for stealing toilet paper. I will repeat that, because it warrants repeating. Amanda Butts, as in the equipment one uses to dispense shit, was incarcerated for stealing toilet paper. A toilet being the place one would placed a butt in order to dispense said shit. Like I said folks, I can't make this shit up. As hard as I try... I simply can't.

Amanda Butts was arrested for stealing toilet paper... holy shit.

9.11.2006

My Soap Box Is Better Than Yours

Every generation has their predilection for demise; every generation has their revelation. Ours is simply this; we are what we eat, but we are not what we play. In a society where more than half of its members are unhealthy and overweight, and almost 1/4th is morbidly obese, this fact adds verification to my statement. My point is not to slam a vain fist on the table, Atkins’ book clutched tightly to my chest, preaching the abomination of man’s gluttony and apathy. Rather, I take a well-known statement and add another level to its complexity.

Being the first generation to “grow up” with video games and computers unlike our predecessors, our technological advances, instead of our accomplishments, became our labels. Labels, like it or not, justified or pure fabrication, put a burden on he whose lapel it is pinned. Branded like cattle, we lumber around the convention known as life with a plastic smile and a “Hello, my name is Samus Aran” slapped crookedly on our chest. This very label is the cause for alarm, not cartoon violence and simulated sex.

We have an escape from out realities. In turn, we’ve grown weaker than our parents and our parents’ parents. They too had minor distractions: booze, drugs, music, films… but our's is truly an escape. Video games are our Narnia. The reason being is we have been groomed to believe that we can create our own reality. We don’t have to answer for our actions or face our fears; that’s what the reset button is for.

This is our great revelation. Life doesn’t have a reset button. We can’t apathetically lumber through life, then simply fix our fuck-ups by reloading to a previous save point. Unfortunately, we actually have to work for our money, practice to hone our skills, take caution in our steps, and understand to learn. It has been vigorously argued that our modern technologies have corrupted our youth. To this, I agree, but not because they put the ideas of violence, sex, war and death into their minds. This is all in our nature. Rather, these vices have taken away our sense of reality, our accountability, our motivation, and worst of all, our imagination.

Perhaps this too, is in our nature.

3.14.2006

Douche, Or No Douche?

I should learn to use a bit more caution when choosing the comments I make with certainty. Not because I’m afraid of being wrong, because, let’s face it, I never am. The reason for my caution is, quite frankly, I hate repeating myself. One solace I can take is in the fact that it is not I that has forced me into this situation; it is the television industry that put me in such a predicament.

I know in the past I have said that there is NO WAY for the TV industry to sink any lower into the abyss of useless programming. I have been forced to eat my words with a side of “Oh yeah? Well take this!”. NBC is currently the front-runner, in my opinion, in the cavalcade of anger ensuing, facial self-punching, brain with sharp pencil jabbing, TV shows. The dignitary of NBC being a new show called Deal, or No Deal.

The premise of this “game show” is simple. People are asked to choose a briefcase with a number which they keep, then, slowly they select other numbers to eliminate. Each case holds a dollar amount meant to be a prize. As said case is opened, the prize is removed from the board. This means there is no change that dollar amount is in the constestants case. Above this fantastically mind-numbing train wreck sits a “banker”. He looms over the stage from his darkened room like The Once-ler from The Lorax. Sitting there in the dark, nothing visible save his phone grabbing arm, he makes calls to the shows host and offers a settlement amount for the contestant to quite and walk away. It is at that time the phone on stage rings. The host picks up and, with a stern tone, accepts the offer. The offer is then passed on to the contestant, who is asked, “Deal, or No Deal”? This “game show” requires no talent, and couldn’t be any more boring or pointless if all they did was see how many times they could smash themselves in the testicles with a claw hammer until passing out.

I know I’ve kept you in complete suspense. Who is the host of this fabulous peace of shit? Howie Mandel. That’s right, of Walk Like A Man fame. The same guy whose grand finale when performing stand up “comedy” was to pull a rubber glove over his face and blow it up with his nose.

Quick side note – this all ended when he ruptured a blood vessel in his head from the build up of pressure. Sadly, this didn’t kill him, or even turn him into a vegetable. This blood vessel must have controlled his talent, because, inconceivably, becoming even LESS funny and talented was the only result of this injury.

Well, I’ve decided to help to good people of NBC out by making some creative changes to the show I think will help it be a success. Instead of deciding between taking the deal and quitting, or pressing on, I think the contestants should have to make a different decision. The new name of the show will be Douche, or No Douche. Contestants will come up on stage, and be shown a clip of Howie’s past work, or maybe a small, live comedy routine. They will then be offered a small sum of money to ease their pain. The contestant will then have to decide if it is at all humanly possible for Howie Mandel to make a bigger douche of himself. Howie will then ask the question, “Douche, or No Douche”? If they say No Douche, they will then have to sit through another gut wrenching clip of Howie. Each time they will be offered more money until they finally crack and say, “Yes, yes… ok! Good lord! You really are a Douche!”

I don’t know if most people are hip to the following info, but Howie Mandel was actually the voice of Gizmo in the Gremlins movies. I don’t know where this fits into my little rant, other than further proving my point that Howie Mandel is a douche.

11.22.2005

Evil Witch Woman Pollutes Minds Of Her Students

Today I happened to be reading the news and came across an interesting story. It seems as though a 26-year-old female teacher has been fired from her position as a preschool teacher at catholic school in Queens. It seems she violated one of the rules in their handbook of values and principles. She has been accused of not conveying "the teachings of the Catholic faith be her words and actions.

That bitch! What the hell did she do? I say we get her! Man, I bet she was dressing inappropriately. No, wait, she was getting drunk and high every night then showing up at work and falling asleep instead of caring for the children. I bet... she was giving the kids drugs and alcohol. Damn her soul to hell!

It turns out that her evil secret of sin and hatred is that she is pregnant and unmarried; that has been grounds for her termination. It seems she hasn't been living up to the imperative morality we see being exuded from today's Catholic church.

She is currently in a court battle with the school. Perhaps if she explained she were gay, and not allowed to be married, maybe them it would be ok? Seems so. Or maybe, maybe if she explained it was ok, because the father was a 10-year-old alter boy? That's fine. Just so long as she doesn't, gasp, have sex at the age of 26 when she isn't married. Evil bitch! She is what's wrong with out country. It's not Bush, with his lies and war mongering. It's not the oil industry, making record profits off the entire country during times of crisis. It's not the priests that abuse little boys... hell no. It's the already established 25 and up crowd. You know, the ones that put themselves through college, and get jobs as teachers. It's all a front, you know. They use all that to cover up their evil double life. A life filled with wine tastings, cartoons about sponges and sex with their partner even though they don't have a little certificate stating so that they paid upwards of $15,000 or more for.

You sicken me, you evil, evil heathen.