this thursday, if you’re near NIU, stop in for ANiMATiON dance troupe’s master class: it’s gonna be my first trip to NIU to show my love for animation, and i think the piece im gonna teach is my favorite, so i hope you’ll love it too

check out the doooope flier than louie made to help advertise:

also i got an early christmas present from my parents, and they bought me a new video camera, which i had been begging to get for a while. check this sucka out:

it records in HD, straight to 1080p, and has a built in USB plug which rules cuz i tend to lose wires haha. its pretty basic, with very simple functions, but it records beautiful videos. it’ll get put to use on thursday, thats for sure

So my ignorant father is apparently pissed and trying to get out of paying for everything. As if I haven’t accepted responsibility for my actions with school, but because he has some wife he is responsible for (not that I don’t like Aimee, but…) I may have to stop going to school. It is evident now more than ever that I need to seek out scholarships. Please Lord help me!

Well, Rick and Aimee, if you someday read this, this is what I have to say:

I screwed up. I overestimated my ability in school and failed. This is not to say that I am not smart. I have 12+ years of academic excellence to prove that this is a one time mistake.

I am not like others. I was stupid last year. Stupid, cocky, and underachieving. I thought I could coast through my education. But this experience has taught me how to grow into an academically adequate person, and I full-heartedly believe in myself. Yes, I hid my grades and I lied. But I was scared, and going through and identity crisis. I have always been the brainy, intelligent one that wanted to learn.Suddenly, I was the one who failed out of college. College is all I have ever wanted to do with my life thus far. And I failed. That was an emotional, self-loathing roller coaster that terrified me, yet also forced me to grow up. I am ready to return to NIU a better, older, more improved Rikki.

The important thing now is that I have taken steps that will lead me back to NIU and I can start fresh with a new slate, 4.0 GPA, and I can make things happen for myself.

Dad, if you get out of paying and I do not get to go to school as a result, I hope you know that we will be done. FOREVER. I understand the consequences of my actions but I will get my college degree, even if your bull-headed stubbornness slows me down. I am better than you in so many ways, and this is one of them. I may have screwed up, but part of being an adult is accepting responsibility. This is what I am doing.

More than once you have treated me like dirt, you have put me on the back burner. I have come to learn that I don’t need you in my life, as much as I may want you there. If you push me hard enough, you will lose a daughter.

In closing, and this goes to everyone, do not let things stop you from getting what you want, even if that thing is yourself. I made one of the biggest mistakes that I will regret for the rest of my life. But I also know that I have grown as a person, and I know that if I didn’t keep working my way through school, I would learn to hate myself. Even if it’s your own flesh and blood looking down on you as a disappointment, you can find better family out there that will believe in you, share your strife with you, and pull you up when you are so far down you can’t even recognize yourself. This person is my mother, the strongest, most amazing woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.

Everyone, please pray for my mom tomorrow as she goes to battle my father in court. We desperately need some financial stability as far as school is concerned, and the little bit from my Dad would be a God send. Please please pray. I know I screwed up and hardly deserve it, but I still ask for forgiveness and reassurance that me and my beautiful mom can breathe a little bit and focus on other things than my Dad’s vengeful trial. What a looooooooooser.

Dad, I hope you enjoy your life with Aimee. She’s going to be the only family you have left when it’s all over.

So, I’ve been at the library for hours and pretty much I’ve only done 1hr of productive studying!!!  Procrastination!  I went to the NIU library the other day thinking it was closer to home so I could study there until 11:00pm but be closer to home when I leave.  Well, among other things, their Wi-Fi was not public so I could not go online!  

WHAT A TRAVESTY!!!!

I swore to never go back!! 

However, now, I need to reconsider that thought…
(See ya tomorrow)

New Chinese Military recruitment posters

Damn… RICK ROSS of propaganda! haha

In the wake of the Ft. Hood murders, I’ve been thinking a lot about othering as a defense mechanism. I’ve written about it in relation to rape, but this week has really brought it home to me in terms of more generalized violence.

I was even reminded of it in both this week’s episode of Bones and this week’s Castle. Both episodes brought up the ways we separate ourselves from violence as a means to explain it, to make it make sense. Bones brings up the different coping mechanisms (Brennan’s being to cling to the veneer of pure logic, opposed to Angela’s, which is to take “superficial” small-scale action). Castle brings it up directly, and at one point, the title character says something like, “When the people close to us surprise us by doing terrible things, we will come up with any explanation for it.”

Everyone participates in othering behavior. Everyone. Sometimes they realize it, sometimes they don’t. The Ft. Hood murders were an example of a particular sort, when the immediate conclusion following the release of the shooter’s name was overwhelmingly to attribute religious factors to the situation. Whether his religious affiliations* were related to his actions remains to be determined definitively, but even if they are related, they are not distinctly relevant.

This may sound like a strange formulation, and I am still in the process of unpacking it. When I got beyond the individual event and started thinking of the othering of violence as a general phenomenon, I was reminded of my experiences as a college student, when a young man killed five and injured many others before killing himself. Immediately, people began separating themselves–he had stopped taking his meds, he was insane, he had always been strange, and so on. But the reality was different–people who had truly known him knew him as average, intelligent, the kind to participate in class. He had gone from our school as an undergrad–in my department–and continued in a different humanities program at one of the best public schools in the Midwest. Prior to the event, no one would have thought of him as anything different from them. Afterward, though, he was nothing like us–how could he be? I admit I participated in this, because it is a defense mechanism. Rationalizing irrational events allows us to come to grips with them, to process them and learn to live around them.

Yet, I remember being distinctly frightened and stunned by the fact that I related explicitly to the shooter. Not because I am violent, or because I had considered things, but because the primary excuse for his actions among my peers was his mental instability. As someone who has suffered from both severe depression and anxiety, I could understand the ways our minds can take us out of the rational and into territory we cannot navigate. I could relate to him, and I believe that this acknowledgement made my experience of the aftermath of that shooting somewhat different than those who were able to completely other him.

Now, I recognize the individual need for this mental dissociation from violent acts. It helps us function in terrifying situations, and on a great many occasions, that is entirely necessary.

At other times, though, it is incredibly dangerous. It is especially dangerous when it becomes systemic rather than individual. Hasan has been othered not only by intentionally drawing attention to his status as a Muslim (of an as-yet-undetermined level of extremism), but by using language explicitly meant to separate him from the station he held. A week ago, he was One Of Us, one of Our Own, but now he is One of Them, One of Those, and definitely Not Like Us.

What if we recognized that he, and on a greater scale, they, were like us? What if, instead of looking for excuses to make them different, we looked for the triggering moment that took them from the kind of people who may disagree but do so privately, to people who could no longer contain their dissent? Whatever it was, it was a human emotion–anger, fear, sadness–and not an alien one. The expression of the emotion may be alien to us, but not the emotion itself.

*By this, of course, I mean his own belief set, not that of Islam in general.

Why didn’t I bet my Huskies last night?  21 point home favorite.  I knew it was a lock!!  They thumped Eastern Michigan 50-6.  I didn’t even know Eastern Michigan existed.  I’ve partied at Western Michigan….but Eastern?

NIU is carving out a nice little season.  Almost upset Wisconsin in Madison to start the season, beat Purdue at Purdue, 4-1 in the MAC with the only blemish a loss on the road against Toledo by a point.  Go Huskies!

Speaking of betting, tough weekend all around.  The Irish jump out at me.  Only giving 11 at home against Navy.  Washington is getting 5 on the road at UCLA.  If Washington can beat USC, they can certainly beat UCLA.

NFL looks tricky.  Maybe Miami & Atlanta? Iceman — what are you thinking?

DOWNLOAD (multiupload)

Kidcrash – Snacks [2009]
Denovali records

Ascoltato ancora troppe poche volte per capire se mi piace più o meno di Jokes.
Sicuramente è un buon disco – come per tutta la roba loro, è così frenetica e dinamica da risultare, alla fine, un po’ piatta: troppe direzioni, troppi frammenti.
Eppure, mentre suona, funziona alla grande.
Questo disco, insieme a TUTTA la loro discorgrafia, è scaricabile gratuitamente da qui:
http://denovali.com/kidcrash

Che è un motivo in più per comprare i loro dischi:
http://www.denovali.com
http://www.myspace.com/thekidcrash

01. Space Between Mountains
02. Where Nerves Were
03. Grim Collections
04. Wound Eraser
05. Slow Applause
06. Brainsnares
07. Sleeper Wave

Suonano a Milano questo venerdì, fra le altre cose.

Copincollo quanto hanno postato in giro i ragazzi di Freego!:

Venerdi 6 novembre, freego! presenta in dauntaun, leoncavallo, Kidcrash dagli Stati Uniti, Sugartown Cabaret dalla Francia e Dummo, da Perugia. Kidcrash, punk da Portland, Oregon con dischi su Init Records, Denovali e Pure Pain Sugar. Sugartown Cabaret da Caen, al secondo tour europeo. Dummo da Perugia, di cui è uscito qualche mese fa Gelo Chiama Gelo, per To Lose La Track.
Inizio ore 22:00
@ dauntaun, leoncavallo
via Watteau 7,
Milano
Kidcrash (usa) – http://www.myspace.com/thekidcrash
Sugartown Cabaret (france) – http://www.myspace.com/sugartowncabaret
Dummo – http://www.myspace.com/dummocratics
Info
http://www.myspace.com/freego

///

1 tahun belakangan ini aku lagi menginstall program “antimusic” di tubuh saya. Meskipun gak 100%. Absurd kalo 100%. Kecuali kalo tinggal di gua. Hoho.

Lhadalaaah..beberapa hari ini aku malah rajin bermain piano booo’. Eh, organ ding. Eh au ah apalah namanya. Hohoho, Ampun Tuhan. Lagu anak-anak kok.. Lagu-lagu yang mendidik kok.. Lagu-lagu islami kok -> MENCOBA MENGADAKAN PEMBELAAN.

Gimana gak kudu latihan tiap hari, tar ujiannya disuruh ngarang lagu plus rekaman lagu anak2 dan judulnya diacak dari ratusan judul lagu. Becanda gak nanggung-nanggung itu dosen.

Alhamdulillah, piano kecil ku masih bisa dipake. Jadi ngapalin not angkanya lebih mudah.

@ Widhi : kenapa dulu waktu privat latihan piano ke kamu, aku males-malesan ya.. Huhuhu..

Ya Allah, semoga tar muridku nggak ada yang jadi penyanyi centil deh. Haduw, g reka aku.

Semoga lagunya cukup diresapi liriknya dan diaplikasikan ke kehidupan sehari-harinya. Amin.

Betewe, aku uda berhasil mengarang 1 lagu lhoh. Mimpi apa akuuu, mendadak lancar ngarangnya. Haduw, mendadak Pemusik.

Tak pikir-pikir, para anggotanya ORION berbakat nyiptain lagu ya. Widhi uda ngarang lagu, masih ada di hp ku. Belum tak hapus. Si Niu juga uda ngarang lagu Mars nya HIMBIO yg selalu dinyanyiin arek-arek biologi di kampus.

Yeah, mendadak pemusik..

So I’ve been on the road over the last week and still have many miles to go before I sleep (and go fishing). But while I’ve thoroughly enjoyed scenes such as these…

I’m thoroughly missing scenes like these.

DOWNLOAD (multiupload)

Cloak/Dagger – Lost Art [2009]
Jade Tree records

Fine settimana in cui fai cose vedi gente, poi ti ritrovi a sniffare aspirina prima di andare a dormire.
Ma quanto ne è valsa la pena.
Il tutto mentre ascolti questo disco, che ti ricatapulta in mood arroganzissima dopo due settimane dominate dalla combodellamorte Turner/Molina. Una bomba, per davvero.
More soon, metto i testi e qualche altra cosa.

Sono Giorni Un Po’ Così. Ogni tanto, ci sono dei giorni che non ci sono.
Insomma, uno di QUEI giorni.

*
Frank Turner – Love Ire & Song
[DOWNLOAD]
E’ bellissimo anche questo, prooooprio tanto. E’ così.

I Knew Prufrock Before He Got Famous
Let’s begin at the beginning: we’re lovers and we’re losers, we’re heroes and we’re pioneers, and we’re beggars and we’re choosers. We’re skirting round the edges of the ideal demographic. We’re almost on the guestlist, but we’re always stuck in traffic. We’ve watched our close associates up and play their parts; they’re chatting up the it girls, and they’re tearing up the charts, while we were paying with coppers to get our round in at the bar. We’re the C-Team, we’re the almost famous old friends of the stars.
Justin is the last of the great romantic poets, and he’s the only one among us who is ever going to make it. We planned a revolution from a cheap Southampton bistro. I don’t remember details but there were English boys with banjos. Jay is our St George, and he’s standing on a wooden chair, and he sings songs and he slays dragons, and he’s losing all his hair. Adam is the resurrected spirit of Gram Parsons, in plaid instead of rhinestone and living in South London. and no one’s really clear about Tommy’s job description, but it’s pretty clear he’s vital to the whole damn operation. Dave Danger smiles at strangers, Tre’s the safest girl I know, Zo and Harps will skamper up to victory in the city we call home.
We won’t change our ways, we will proud remain when the glory fades.
I am sick and tired of people who are living on the B-list. They’re waiting to be famous and they’re wondering why they do this. And I know I’m not the one who is habitually optimistic, but I’m the one who’s got the microphone here so just remember this:
Life is about love, last minutes and lost evenings, about fire in our bellies and furtive little feelings, and the aching amplitudes that set our needles all a-flickering, and help us with remembering that the only thing that’s left to do is live. After all the loving and the losing, the heroes and the pioneers, the only thing that’s left to do is get another round in at the bar.

Reasons Not To Be An Idiot
You’re not as messed up as you think you are – your self-absorption makes you messier. Just settle down and you would feel a whole lot better. Deep down you’re just like everybody else. She’s not as pretty as she thinks she is – just picture her after she’s had kids. I bet she sits at home and listens to The Smiths. Deep down she’s just like everybody else.
He’s not as clever as he likes to think – he’s just ambitious with his arguing. He’s crap at dancing, and he can’t hold his drink. Deep down he’s just like everybody else. I’m not as awesome as this song makes out – I’m angry, underweight and sketching out. I’m building bonfires of my vanities and doubts to get warm, just like everybody else.
Amy thinks her life is lacking in drama, so she fell for horoscopes, faith-healing and karma. She’s so wrapped up in her invisible armour that she’ll never grow into herself. And it’s OK thinking me and all my friends are just wasters, but all the same I can still see through her airs and graces. I guess she’s scared her life won’t leave any traces, kind of like everyone else, and that’s not the point anyways. Oh Darling, I felt compelled to call you up to say:
So why are you sat at home? You’re not designed to be alone. You just got used to saying no. Because it’s a lovely sunny day, and you hide yourself away. You’ve only got yourself to blame. Get up, get down and get outside.

Photosynthesis
Well I guess I should confess that I am starting to get old. All the latest music fads all passed me by and left me cold. All the kids are talking slang I won’t pretend to understand, all my friends are getting married, mortgages and pension plans. And it’s obvious my angry adolescent days are done, and I’m happy and I’m settled in the person I’ve become, but that doesn’t mean I’m settled up and sitting out the game – time may change a lot, but some things they stay the same.
Maturity’s a wrapped-up package deal or so it seems, ditching teenage fantasy means ditching all your dreams. All your friends and peers and family solemnly tell you you will have to grow up, be an adult, be bored and unfulfilled. But no one’s yet explained to me exactly what’s so great about slaving 50 years away on something that you hate, about meekly shuffling down the path of mediocrity. Well if that’s your road then take it but it’s not the road for me.
And if all you ever do with your life is photosynthesize, then you’ll deserve every hour of your sleepless nights that you waste wondering when you’re going to die.
Now I’ll play, and you sing – the perfect way for the evening to begin. I won’t sit down, and I won’t shut up, and most of all I won’t “grow up”.

Substitute
The first girl that I fell for was a fair and faithful fighter, she smouldered with a will to save the world. I did my best to help her, I stood shoulder to shoulder on the frontlines with that visionary girl. I wish that she had cared for me, but in the end her ideologies occupied the fortress of her heart. I wrote her fifteen songs but still we had to part.
If music was the food of love then I’d be a fat romantic slob. Music is my substitute for love.
The last girl that I loved was a low and lusty liar who set my heart on fire and made me choke. Her beauty was a sight to see, but she didn’t save it all for me. I found other fires by following the smoke. I wished that she had either cared for me or let me be, but she drove me from my mind and from my home. I wrote her sixteen songs but ended up alone.
If love is really all that we need then even all my singing is never going to save me. Music is my substitute for love.
I’ve had many different girls inside my bed, but only one or two inside my head. These days I cuddle up to my guitar instead. But oh, what I would give, not to stumble but to really fall in love. And I could substitute my singing for the sound of someone sleeping next to me.

Better Half
Oh my friend loneliness, where have you been? You left me to the lure of a lover who left me alone. And now you come crawling back, and I’ll let you in, and we’ll slip back into grooves that we cut in ourselves long ago.
Oh my dear distance, I’ve met you before, in the longing of a lover who’s lost on a far distant shore. And all my imperfections are all that remain, on the days when I love you and leave you, and you wish that I would stay.
But there must be a better half, somewhere out there, and she lives a better life, a life that she shares, shares with a better man, a man who is there when she calls in the night, who says “Hey, it’s alright.”
And I know what she looks like, her face and her skin, her smell and the rest. I know the feel of her soul but, God help me, I just cannot find her address. Oh how I’ve tried and now all that is left is my old friends distance and sweet loneliness.

Love Ire & Song
A teacher of mine once told me that life was just a list of disappointments and defeats, and you could only do your best. And I said: well that’s a fucking cop out, you’re just washed up and you’re tired, and when I get to your age, well, I won’t be such a coward. But these days I sit at home, I’m known to shout at my TV, and punk rock didn’t live up to what I’d hoped that it could be. And all the things that I believed with all my heart when I was young are just coasters for beers and clean surfaces for drugs, and I’ve packed all my pamphlets with my bibles at the back of the shelf.
Well it was bad enough, the feeling, the first time it hit, when you realized your parents let the world all go to shit, and that the values and ideals for which so many fought and died had been killed off in committees and left to die by the way-side. But it was worse when we turned to the kids on the left, and got let down again by some poor excuse for protest; by idiot fucking hippies in fifty different factions, locked inside some kind of sixties battle re-enactment. So I hung up my banners in disgust and I head for the door.
Oh but once we were young and we were crass enough to care, but I guess you live and learn. We won’t make that mistake again. But surely just for one day we could fight and we could win, and if only for a little while, we could insist on the impossible.
Well we’ve been a good few hours drinking, so I’m going to say what everyone’s thinking: if we’re stuck on this ship and it’s sinking, then we might as well have a parade. Because if it’s still going to hurt in the morning, and a better plan’s yet to get forming, then where’s the harm spending an evening in manning the old barricades?
So come on old friends, to the streets, let’s be 1905 but not 1917. Let’s be heroes, let’s be martyrs, let’s be radical thinkers who never have to test drive the least of their dreams. Let’s divide up the world into the damned and the saved, and ride to the valley like the old Light Brigade, and straighten our backs, and not be afraid, and they’ll celebrate our deaths with a national parade.
Leave the morning to the morning, pain can be killed with aspirin tablets and vitamin pills. But memories of hope and of glorious defeat are a little bit harder to beat.

Imperfect Tense
Naked and wretched and retching on a hotel bathroom floor, somewhere in the city. Three days not sleeping, not eating, not feeling good any more, drenched in sweat and self-pity. It’s not a pretty sight.
Breaking, I’m shaking, it’s taking a long, long time to come down off this murderous medication, trying to remember my reasons for running myself into the ground with such dedication.
What to say in my defence? I was imperfect tense. I used to have such balance, but I don’t know where it went. So would you be my present sense?
And it’s not meant to be, but I am lost at sea, so mermaid, sing to me, of better times and of things that could be on an island in the Mediterranean Sea, and of sleeping and eating at times when I should, and of washing the drink and the drugs from my blood. I’ve nothing to say in my defence, I’m far from perfect, I’m still tense. But they say that love can change you once, please say that love can change me once, come on and change me.

To Take You Home
I come from the land of the Wessex downs, from the Hampshire valleys near Winchester town, in the country where the soft south rivers flow down to the English Channel I roam, and this is where I call home. I sing for my supper and I’m pretty well fed, I cross this island and I make my bed where I can find a crowd and somewhere to lay my head when my travelling day is done, and all of my songs have been sung.
But honey I was lonely on the road, I was all on my own, hanging out sad at the back of a death metal show (CONVERGE). I saw you standing there with your hair down low, a kink in your step that made me want to know if you would like to take me home. And who’d have thought that a French kiss from a Parisian girl could capture an English boy.
he comes from the Channel’s other distant shore, from the land of revolution and of Agincourt, from a king’s bloodstain on a Tricolour, and a culture a little too high for an English boy like me. She doesn’t know the island I grew up upon, the valleys and the rivers that I’ve roamed along, and she doesn’t like my clothes and she doesn’t like my songs, but she’s still my mademoiselle, and “it goes to show you never can tell”.
Because she was a quiet one, she was a shy one, she was the prettiest at the show. But she crept up so slyly, crept up behind me, but still she pretended that she didn’t know. But oh then she fixed me, and then she kissed me, and she’s yet to let me go, and though I’m far away across the sea, I’m singing for the hope that she will ever remember me.
So honey when you’re lonely on the road and you’re all on your own, hanging out sad at the back of the country show, picture me there with my hat down low, a smile upon my face to let you know that I would like to take you home to the hills that I know, to the places I go.
And that’s the way that a French kiss from an English boy can capture a Parisian girl.

Long Live The Queen
Well I was sipping on a whisky when I got the call: my friend Lex was lying in the hospital. She’d been pretty sick for about half a year, but it seemed like this time the end was drawing near. So I dropped my plans and jumped the next London train; I found her laid up and in a lot of pain. Her eyes met mine and then I understood that her weather forecast wasn’t looking good. So I sat and spun her stories for a little while, tried to raise the mood, tried to raise a smile, but she silenced all my ramblings with a shake of her head, drew me close to listen, and this is what she said:
“You’ll live to dance another day; it’s just now you’ll have to dance for the two of us. So stop looking so damn depressed and sing with all your heart that the queen is dead.”
She told me she was sick of all the hospital food, of doctors / distant relatives draining her blood. She said “I know I’m dying but I’m not finished just yet. I’m dying for a drink and for a cigarette.” So we hatched a plan to book ourselves a cheap hotel in the centre of the city and then raise some hell, lay waste to all the clubs and then when everyone else is long asleep then we’ll know we’re good and done.
The queen is dead, South London’s not the same any more. The last of the greats has finally gone to bed.
Well I was working on some words when Sarah called me up, she said THAT Lex had gone to sleep and wasn’t waking up. And even though I knew that there was nothing to be done, I felt bad for not being there, and now she was gone. So I tried to think what Lex would want me to do at times like this, when I was feeling blue, so I gathered some friends to spread the sad, sad news, and we headed for the city for a drink or two, and we sang: We live to dance another day; it’s just now we have to dance for one more of us. So let’s stop looking so damn depressed, and sing with all our hearts: Long live the queen.

A Love Worth Keeping
I rise in the morning at sunrise. The strangers around me sleep soundly at rest. Phones and computers become me, signals stretch back to the land that I left. And oh, in the quiet times, I count up the things that I lack, and slip through the road lines; the betrayal of wandering back.
I left you while you were sleeping, I left you the warmth in your bed where I lay. You left me a love worth keeping, you left me a diary to count off the days. And so in the quiet times, I savour the things that I miss, and slip through the road lines, and wonder how I came to this.
I guess you never know loss till you have something to lose, choice till you have something to choose.
So give me my quiet times to mourn for the things that I’ve lost. You’ll find me on the road lines, counting the miles and the cost. And so I never knew loss because I had nothing to lose, choice because I had nothing to chose. But oh, all the things you do, the way that you close your door, the way that you guard your shores… Darling I’m coming home soon.

St Christopher Is Coming Home
Monday morning comes a-crawling in from another weekend choked with cigarettes and sin. And I’ve been busy so much lately that every time I get some time to spend I end up drunk or sleeping in. And I miss you, you’re busy too, we call each other up when we’re messed up and say we’ll meet in the new year. But it’s perfectly clear that we’ll do no such thing come the spring.
Friday evening barely even begins before my phone begins to ring with people asking where I am. And I can’t suppress a smile, we talk a-while, but chances are that I am far away and so I’m phased out of the plan. And that’s how I miss out on another night, the kind of night where nothing really happens, but everything goes down. And in the end I’m just a promise to pick up the phone when I’m in town.
But when the evening casts its shadows on the corners of my days, and I am old and I am settled in the place where I will stay, when my wandering meanderings have finally reached their end, yes whatever else may be, I will not forget my friends, and may my friends remember me.

Jet Lag
I’ve heard it said the trick is to set your watch when you hit the plane, and that way you can trick the workings of a tired brain. But sometimes I feel sick, sometimes I just feel so drained, and cut down to the quick, longing for that voice again.
On the phone, you always ask if I’m OK, but it’s not the same as being happy.
Airports make me sad – I’m sure they shouldn’t all be the same, but they’re just landing pads for boring tourist shopping chains. I think of times we had, drinking while we wait for your plane, and feeling kind of bad, and wondering which one of us has changed.
Because we used to be slick, WITH supple young hips, romantic young kissable lips, Unbearably sharp unbreakable heart, wide eyes and faith that life could never pull us apart if we were OK… But distance kills the best intentions.
I travelled 40,000 miles last year and I’m working on the same again. I fell for 15 different girls and nearly lost all of my friends. And though I’m jet-set jet-lag jaded, you’re always sixteen hours ahead, quietly reminding me how I used to be. I used to be slick.

*
Songs: Ohia – The Lioness
[DOWNLOAD]
Torna a intervalli regolari. Uno dei dischi più oscuri che abbia in casa, superato in PROFUMODELLAVITA da “Ghost Tropic” sempre di Molina, che però no dai è troppo. Rosico ancora che nessuno voglia venire a Torino stasera, non me la fido davvero a guidare fino là da solo. Comunque, l’ultimo Magnolia è una bomba.

The Black Crow
through sparrow black wind
a dead crow calls out to his wing
we were lightning across the whole world
we were lightning(x3)
and the guise to black cats we made a cross when our shadows met
and the guise to black cats we made a pact when our shadows passed
through sparrow black wind
a dead crow calls out to its wings
I’m getting weaker I’m getting thin
I hate how obvious I have been
I’m getting weaker(x4)
and I look down and see the whole world
and it’s fading(repeat)

Tigress
it’s difficult not to worry about what happens next
certain looks sort out confused looks
and certain looks sport confused looks
and I watched us talking in the mirror
and you put on that look
that says this little star wishes she weren’t single
it is the eye that catches me a man protesting his worth
it is the year that catches you putting the shake on your words
you are alert as a tigress at a common table with her fate
you can almost taste it
we’ll be gone be morning or be together by then(x2)
and I believe every woman has made up her mind to win

Nervous Bride
the women are dressed up and they are up to no good
you’re dressed up for liberation
you flash that fire flag you fly above
the bright hot sails of your eyes
they say vaguely goodbye(x2)
there is a long delay in our words
then there are no words
and I lay down tonight as nervous as a bride
she’s not nervous but she tries(x2)
and it’s vaguely goodbye(x3)

Being In Love
being in love means you are completely broken
then put back together the one piece that was yours
is beating in your lovers breast
she says the same thing about hers(x2)
however I have gotten here I have plans to be with you
and for the first time it is working(x3)
and I am proof that the heart is a risky fuel to burn
yeah, we are proof that the heart is a risky fuel to burn
what’s left after that’s all gone I hope to never learn
but if you stick with me you can help me
I’m sure we’ll find new things to burn
cause we are proof that the heart is a risky fuel to burn
yeah, we are proof that the heart is a risky fuel to burn

Lioness
it is for me the eventual truth
of that look of the lioness to her man across the Nile
it is that look of the lioness to her man across the Nile
wanna feel my heart break if it must break in your jaws
want you to lick my blood off your paws
you can’t get her fast enough(x6)
I will swim to you(x4)
whether you save you me
whether you savage me
want my last look to be the moon in your eyes
want my heart to break if it must break in your jaws
want you to lick my blood off your paws
it is for me the eventual truth
it is that look of the lioness to her man across the Nile(x2)
and you can’t get here fast enough(x6)
I will swim to you(repeat)

Coxcomb Red
and I wanted that heat so bad
I could taste the fire on your breath
and I wanted in your storm so bad
I could taste the lightning on your breath
I watched you hold the son in your arms while he bled to death
he grew so pale next to you
the world is so pale next to you
your hair is coxcomb red your eyes are viper black(x2)
you said every road is a good road
between the next road and your last road
every love is your best love and every love is your last love
and every kiss is a goodbye(x2)
I watched you hold the son in your arms while he bled to death
he grew so pale next to you
the world is so pale next to you
your hair is coxcomb red your eyes are viper black(x3)

Back On Top
there ain’t nothing beyond hope(x2)
i’ve been thrashed by the hope of your body
i’ve been thrashed by the hope of your eyes
you looked me square in the eyes
you said don’t take but one thing to be your truth(x2)
when I’m back on the top again(x2)
that is the truth
that is your truth
there ain’t nothing beyond truth
i’ve been thrashed by the truth of your body
i’ve been thrashed by the truth of your eyes
you looked me square in the eyes
you said don’t take but one thing to be your truth(x2)
when I’m back on the top again(x2)
that is the truth(x3)

Baby Take A Look
baby take a look(x3)
look at your man
do I look like a man who doesn’t understand
you are the one true thing
in a world full of untrue things
if you’re down on your luck(x3)
I will hold till better times(x2)
so baby take that look(x3)
look at your man
do I look like a man who doesn’t understand
you are the one

Just A Spark
Will that look be your only reply
you lower your head in reply
here it is white and full like a pale ghost across the sky
and here it is crescent like a dagger from your heart into mine
here it is just a spark to shine(x2)

*
Converge – Axe To Fall
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Nuovo nuovo, al primo ascolto non mi ha detto molto in realtà – anzi, non mi è piaciuto per un cazzo. Però… Loro in fondo sono una garanzia. Giudizio rimandato.
E poi stavolta non ci sono neanche (tanti) teschi in copertina. Forse questo però è male.

*
Haram – same titled
[DOWNLOAD]
Richmond, Richmond, Richmond.

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NIU has the most oddly designed music building I have ever seen.

So there are 2 buildings that are connected, one to the North and the other to the South. The North building is where I spend most of my time, as it has all of the percussion rooms. The big percussion room is right next to the large ensemble rehearsal room, which makes it fairly easy to schlepp things to and from rehearsals, but the big room is also right behind the recital hall. This means that whenever there is anything going on in the recital hall; recitals, lectures, dress rehearsals, recording etc., we are not allowed to practice or really make any noise in there, which sucks as it is one of our 4 practice rooms that we share between 23 people.

Also in the North building, the only elevator is built right behind the concert hall. Whenever there is a concert going on, they have to shut the elevator off because it makes way too much noise. This is EXTREMELEY INCONVENIENT. The other grad student was telling me about how his recital last year was on the same day as some concert in the concert hall, so he had to move his entire multi set-up and drumset down 3 flights of stairs. Screw that!

Bathrooms are also very strange… The North building has 4 floors. However, there are only Mens restrooms on floors 1 and 3. There are female bathrooms on every floor. WTF? The south building has this problem too, with only mens rooms on 1 and 3 while each of the three floors has a womens restroom.

I am just amazed that somebody could actually sit down and design buildings like this, and that it would also GET APPROVED AND BUILT! I’m pretty sure I could have designed a more fully functional building when I was 9, but maybe thats just me.

I spent a good portion of the mid-eighties in DeKalb, wandering aimlessly around the campus of Northern Illinois University.  I had a lot of good friends, and I have had a chance to catch up with many of them through the marvel of the internet known as Facebook.  As I have reconnected with various people from my old college days, I once again find that many of those memories seem to be connected to food.  They include picnics and parties, The Cornball, and our first Thanksgiving dinner at Laura and Patty’s place.  And of course, as with most college campuses, there were the various restaurants and bars that became our hangouts and meeting spots.

Being a Theatre Major, my home base on campus was the Stevens Building, and more importantly, the smelly old couches by the call board.  This was also the backstage area for our main theatre, O’Connell.  At almost any time of the day, students and sometime faculty could be found here talking or resting or studying.  And almost certainly smoking.  Although I myself am not a smoker, it would seem very strange to me to return to that spot now that smoking is no longer allowed inside the building.  It was just a part of the ambiance of the call board.  I guess back in those days, I was too dumb to realize my lungs needed saving.

Out the back door of the Stevens Building was a small parking lot which then led to a strip mall and our main source of food on most days.  There was a McDonald’s on one side, but at least for me, it was not a place I would visit very often, mostly only when they were having a fifty cent cheeseburger sale.  There were other fast food restaurants in the area, a Burger King and a Pizza Hut, but these types of establishments really lend nothing special to any area.  It is the smaller local favorites that truly defined our eating habits.  Our first choice if you were in a hurry and had to get back to class was a small hotdog stand called PJ’s Red Hots.  It was much smaller than Tom and Jerry’s, the competition further down Lincoln Highway, but in my opinion, they had the better fries.  Simply cut from whole potatoes and deep fried with the skin still intact.  And for a little extra a glob of cheese or chili or both could be piled on top.  PJ’s served the basic Chicago Style hotdogs and burgers.  It is also where I first fell in love with that deep fried pastry known to many as the pizza puff.  It has absolutely no redeeming dietary value, but come on, cheese and sausage and pizza sauce all wrapped up in a crispy crust that was soaked in scalding oil for two minutes, what on earth could be wrong with that?  That is unless you bit into it too quickly and burnt the roof of your mouth.

A few doors down, if you had more time and felt like a deli sandwich or some good soup, there was The Dill Pickle.  Considering that they actually named themselves after a pickle, I always thought they should have the best pickles, but they were really only ok at best.  What they did have was some very good pastrami, and the best potato salad that ever came in a small condiment cup.  Unfortunately, they were usually too expensive for my college budget, and the extra dark interior did not make it a good place to study.  Study sessions were reserved for The Junction.

The official name was The Junction Eating Place, and since the idea of a coffee house had not quite caught on yet back in 1984 to 1987, it was the closest thing we had to a Central Perk.  As the name would indicate, the theme of the restaurant was a train depot, and there was an actual working model train that ran around the restaurant close to the ceiling.  We almost always met at The Junction in a group, so the little Greek owner would mostly sit us in the back.  Our favorite corner was one of those half booths where those who sat against the wall sat on an orange pleather bench, and those in front of the table got chairs.  I myself preferred the very corner of the bench where I could rest against the wall and put a foot up if no-one was sitting right next to me.  But the Junction was not just a student hang out.  I actually had a class one semester that met at the Junction.  It was a playwriting class, and we would all sit around drinking coffee, eating giant cinnamon rolls, and reading our scripts.  Many years later, I stopped at the Junction with my daughter Stephanie, who at that time could only have been four or five years old, and to my surprise, the little old Greek man at the counter recognized me.  He offered to sit me in the back like the old days, but since it was just the two of us, we opted to be sat in one of the booths by the front windows.  That way we had a great view of the Pizza Villa across the parking lot.

There are really just two words needed to describe The Pizza Villa.  Beer Nuggets.  Anyone who spent any time as a student at NIU just had a flashback to a late night munchies fest.  Anyone who has never been to DeKalb just thought “Huh?”  Beer Nuggets were originally made from left over pizza dough.  It would be chopped up into rectangular cubes or nuggets, and then they were deep fried.  That’s it.  Deep fried pizza dough.  The proper way to eat them was with a side of sauce.  I enjoyed rolling them in parmesan cheese after they had been adequately dipped.  At two in the morning, the best way to eat them was as quickly as possible.  Pizza Villa cornered the market on late night munching with these little balls of deep fried dough.  They had a fleet of trucks that could be seen weaving in and around campus, and besides delivering pizza, they also carried extra bags of Beer Nuggets.  All you had to do was flag down a truck and present the driver with whatever crumpled up bills were still left in your pocket, and you had an instant late night snack.

For the more adventurous late night eater, there was one final stop that could be taken, but only the most fool hardy all-nighters would ever survive to actually see a visit to Dot’s.  Just off the corner of Lincoln Highway and 1st Street, almost undetected by most passer-by, there was a small little restaurant that almost never seemed to be open.  Its tiny green awning and window simply said “Dot’s”.  The story as I heard it was that Dot’s late husband was a truck driver, and he would often have to make overnight hauls.  When he would return in the morning Dot would get up early and make him breakfast.  Over the years, this habit became a business, and Dot’s grew into a popular stop for overnight truckers and early morning delivery people.  This is why the restaurant would open at 4 am, and then be closed before most inhabitants were even aware it had opened.  Dot was a slight woman with short platinum blond hair.  She was the cook and did not seem to ever come out from behind the counter.  In front of the counter serving the food was a chunkier woman with dark hair and the standard waitress outfit like you would see Flo wear on Alice.  I don’t recall her name, but I want to say it was Velma or Thelma or something like that.  Or I might just be stretching it a bit in my memory because it seems like that’s what her name should have been.  There was really no reason for a menu in Dot’s since the only thing she served was the Special.  Two eggs, two strips of bacon, two sausage links and hash browns, all cooked in its own slab of butter.  The coffee was awful but hot, and the food was greasy and good.  Or as good as one can remember considering it was four in the morning.

I have to be honest and say that I probably only made it to Dot’s twice during my years at NIU.  It always seemed like a good idea, but since my basement apartment was only a few blocks away on the curve of College Avenue and Linden Place, see it wasn’t really a corner, the two streets just sort of forked off each other, my apartment was often the meeting ground from where we would wait until Dot’s would open at 4.  Most nights we didn’t make it, and I would wake up the next day with a floor full of people and an empty stomach.  Dot’s closed down a few years later and got swallowed up by the mega bar next door called Otto’s.  Dot passed away and it would seem a piece of history passed with her.  But her story lives on in part because of people like me and my old college friends who also made it once or twice to the little place simply known as Dot’s.  And because someone in DeKalb had the right idea to name the little ally that runs behind the building where Dot’s restaurant was once located.  Go ahead and MapQuest it now. 

It’s called Dot’s Way.

Come ho appena detto ad un amico, amo i Massimo Volume ESTREMAMENTE.
Questo ESTREMAMENTE si traduce nel fatto che, ad esempio, non me ne frega un cazzo se flirtano con personaggi&ambienti che mi piacciono poco/nulla, o se mi costringono a linkare il graditissssimo sito di RockIt per permettervi di ascoltare il disco in questione in streaming.
Loro sono i Massimo Volume, quindi possono.
Parliamo di quanto belli sono i dischi dei Massimo Volume?
Qui trovate una buona selezione, impoverita secondo me dalla scelta di tralasciare brani dal primo disco “Stanze” (solo l’ultima traccia, “Ororo”, senza però la prima parte “Vedute dall’alto”) ma DECISAMENTE arricchita da una registrazione finalmente buona di “Esercito di santi”, bellissimo brano che risale alle sessioni di composizione di “Da Qui”, ma che poi non venne registrato.
Parliamo di quanto bello è “Da Qui”?

“Salendo le scale ci ha spaventato il silenzio,
e qualcosa che pareva un’attesa.
Abbiamo consacrato ai nostri idoli le montagne intorno,
confidando nella loro protezione.
La pioggia ci aveva perseguitato per tutto il viaggio.
Corridoi male illuminati,
cartelli parlano di gite al mare.
Foto di discoteche, e di comitive che brindano
a testimoniare l’ottimo servizio.”

Comunque.
Ora i Massimo Volume sono in studio per partorire un successore a “Club Privè”, e io tremo. Tremo perchè “Club Privè” non l’ho ascoltato: gente di cui mi fido molto mi ha detto che fa cacà, e questo è un gruppo che mi piace così tanto da prenderla sul personale.
In pratica, se ascoltassi un disco brutto dei MV potevo rimanere offeso, quindi non lo faccio. Ma, anche,  so perfettamente che non riuscirò a trattenermi dall’ascoltare il disco nuovo (previsto per febbraio 2010); perciò mi limito a tremare un po’.
E a linkarvi la pagina per ascoltare in streaming questo disco. Stasera io non esco, e li riascolto tutti.

http://www.rockit.it/album/11296/massimo-volume-bologna-nov-2008

http://www.massimovolume.135.it

01. Atto Definitivo
02. Il Primo Dio
03. La Notte Dell’ 11 Ottobre
04. La Città Morta
05. Fuoco Fatuo
06. Per Farcela
07. Esercito Di Santi
08. Altri Nomi
09. Sul Viking Express
10. Qualcosa Sulla Vita
11. Ororo

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DOWNLOAD (mediafire)

Magnolia Electric Co. – Josephine [2009]
Secretly Canadian records SC185

Nuovo disco per Jason Molina, a nome Magnolia Electric Co. Ho trovato il link 10 minuti fa, scaricato e ascoltato quel tanto che basta per capire se fosse o meno un fake, come diciamo noi giovani mondialisti.
Non lo è, è proprio lui, la voce e la chitarra precedentemente incarnatesi in Songs: Ohia. Sempre MOLTO positivo, non c’è che dire.
Ascoltate e decidete vobis. Settimana prossima Magnolia Electric Co. sarà in italia per tre date:

10/15 – Torino, Italy – Spazio 211
10/16 – Rome, Italy – Circolo Artisti
10/17 – Ravenna, Italy – Bronson

Sto seriamente pensando a Torino, peccato sia un infrasettimanale e io non sia (mai stato) giovane. Vedremo.
Ah, fra le altre cose, il disco l’ha prodotto un oscuro figuro di nome Steve Albini. Non so se per voi conti, per me si.

01. O! Grace
02. The Rock Of Ages
03. Josephine
04. Shenandoah
05. Whip-poor-will
06. Song For Willie
07. Hope Dies Last
08. The Handing Down
09. Map Of The Falling Sky
10. Little Sad Eyes
11. Heartbreak At Ten Paces
12. Little Knoxville Girl
13. Shiloh
14. An Arrow In The Gale

http://www.magnoliaelectricco.com
http://www.secretlycanadian.com

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I am an alumni from NIU and have a good friend; Scot,  who is an alumnus of Purdue.  Scot is a season ticket holder.  Several months ago, he received his tickets and asked me if I wanted to go to the game.  Once I accepted, he began telling me how his Big 10 team would show my little MAC team how football is played.  

I cannot tell you how enjoyable it was to sit in the Purdue stadium, sun brightly shining on my NIU football team as they beat, in all aspects of the game, his lowly little Boiler Makers.  Wow what a game and I really enjoyed the whole ride back home to Naperville, IL.

I also began to realize a similarity between Brexis Courier and many of the other Big Courier companies.  Over the past 9 years, we have continued to grow and work on the fundamentals of the Same Day Courier business.  Many times, as NIU must have felt, we were looked upon as a small little courier company that had no right to be in the same day courier business.  What did we know about logistics, warehousing, delivering, order fulfillment or cross dock operations? 

Well, here we are 9 years later, growing steadily, working on the fundamentals such as great customer service, systems and processes, delivering on our promises, answering our phones, hiring great team mates and believing in ourselves.  

Are we ready to knock off a couple big courier companies?  Not sure, but we sure enjoy playing this great game.

Stop by and see our team at:

Brexis Courier
618 W. 5th Ave
Suite A
Naperville, IL 60563
630 961 1284

I apologize for missing last week’s post, I tried and got half of it done, but then the first week of school hit me, but I’m back now.  Just for your information, I correctly guessed both games for the weekend, picking Notre Dame and Michigan to come out with wins.

Michigan

This team definitely struggled this weekend, even though the score was 45-17.  I honestly believe that these last two games for EMU are helping to build former U of M defensive coordinator Ron English’s program in Ypsilaniti.  Michigan matched their 2008 win total with yesterdays victory over the Eagles as U of M’s spread option attack dominated Eastern on the ground.  Carlos Brown only had to carry the ball 13 times to amass his career high 187 rushing yards in the game, while freshman sensation Tate Forcier showed he could go through an entire game just managing it, as he completed 7-13 passes for 68 yards.  Everyone knows when Denard Robinson is in the game, that he is a threat to run, but don’t expect to air it out much the rest of this season, as he put up Nick Sheridan like numbers, going 0-4 with two picks.  Eastern actually gave the Wolverines a little bit of a scare as they only trailed by seven going into the break.  Despite only clocking 19:58 in control of the ball, as opposed to EMU’s 40:02, the Wolverines outgained the Eagles on the day, 448-285.  The most impressive thing about this game to me, was the ground game of the Wolverines, especially with very little coming from Brandon Minor (three rushes for 21 yards).

Next week opens up the Big Ten season for U of M as they play host to Indiana.  And believe me, this game can get out of hand quickly.  Although Indiana is sitting pretty at 3-0, the games haven’t been nearly as pretty, as they had to squeak by Eastern Kentucky, Western Michigan, and Akron.  Ben Chappell is looking pretty solid in the newly incorporated pistol offense as he has completed 68.5% of his passes to this point for 674 yards and three scores.  The running game is mainly Demetrius McCray’s work as he is putting up 5.4 yards per carry on 42 carries to this point.  The point of the pistol offense is to stay in the spread formations, while being able to get the running back the ball quicker than you could from a standard shotgun.  Well, Michigan has recruited speed and appear around three times as fast as they did last season on defense, so I think this could be bad news for Hoosiers.  Even though they beat WMU, Tim Hiller still looked good through the sky, and I expect to see the same from Forcier.  With Greg Middleton and Jammie Kirlew on the ends, they could over power the U of M tackles, so expect a lot of quick releases and then the receivers to do the damage after the catch.  U of M improves to 4-0 going into East Lansing, with a 37-10 victory.

Michigan State

The Spartans choked again at the end of this one, despite obvious signs of improvement from the Central Michigan debacle.  Missed opportunities is all that you really have to say.  Golden Tate had the wind knocked out of him, Jimmy Clausen turned his ankle, and Michael Floyd broke his collarbone.  Not to mention a misread wide open interception dropped by Chris L. Rucker, a missed 52-yard field goal off the post from the very sure footed Brett Swenson, and then a mistimed jump, wide open in the end zone by Larry Caper.  There is no reason for Michigan State to lose this game.  Clausen went 22-31 for 300 yards and a pair of touchdowns as Notre Dame beats MSU in South Bend for the first time since 1993.  Not even the return of Mark Dell (six catches, 121 yards) was enough for the Spartans to reach that lucky number seven.  More missed opportunities for the Spartans, how about this…Brett Swenson tied a Michigan State record 76 straight PAT’s made, only to have the next one blocked.  If not for the missed blocking assignment, Brett Swenson wins the game on his leg at the end of the game.  If there is a positive to take away from this game, it is Kirk Cousins and Larry Caper, even though they couldn’t hook up for the game-winner on the final possession.  With the exception of that last throw, the sophomore quarterback maintained his poise like an NFL veteran with the two minute drill, and I feel assured that it is his job to lose for the rest of the season as he went 23-35 for 302 yards and a touchdown.  While the freshman Caper also looked mature beyond his years, rushing for 51 yards on 12 carries and his first two touchdowns in the green and white.  Another good sign for Sparty, they seemed to have solidified the very questionable and inexperienced right side of the offensive line with Brendon Moss and D.J. Young.

Next week doesn’t get any easier for MSU as they travel to Camp Randall Stadium in Madison to take on the Badgers.  Wisconsin, like IU, is undefeated, but have looked less than impressive.  They beat NIU 28-20, and took extra time to beat Fresno State 34-31.  They also just destroyed Wofford 44-14.  Meanwhile, it’s nice to see John Clay get the starting job back, although we should see a lot of Zach Brown as well this weekend.  If you like ugly, nitty-gritty, punch you in the mouth football, check this game out.  Expect this game to be close, as both teams will look to grind it out for the majority of this one.  But in the end, when both teams realize they need to get the ball in the end zone, the Spartans have the talent edge at both quarterback and wide receiver, especially with Dell showing no signs of wear and tear, and Blair White looking like a Biletnikoff finalist with three fantastic games for MSU.  Throw in the versatility of Keshawn Martin and big play potential of B. J. Cunningham, the Spartans should separate themselves from the Badgers late in the game through the air, as both teams grind it out to a draw early on.  Michigan State jumps around in Camp Randall after winning 27-23.

I left the Alpha Lambda Chapter of Alpha Kappa Lambda yesterday. I really enjoyed my time with these men. It was great to go and visit another MAC school. Being the same size and style of school as my Alma Mater (Eastern Michigan) it was rather refreshing. It seems as though the men are going to have a great year ahead of them. After having a fire in their old chapter house over the summer and moving houses they are ready to have a great semester.

The chapter was gearing up for a concert to benefit These Hands Don’t Hurt, In addition they were working on practicing for the upcoming intramural season of softball. So because of this I played softball plenty of times during my stay. It was rather interesting playing softball because they play “Chicago Style” with a 16″ softball and no gloves which took me a little while to get used to but was alot of fun to play. I did thoroughly enjoy my visit and wish the chapter the best of luck in the coming year.

- first, go to Cru on Thursday night @ 9pm in DuSable.
- second, go to the Harvest Bible Chapel Bonn Fire Friday night @ 9pm – 2am.
- third, NIU football game verse Western Illinois on Saturday at 6:30pm.
- fourth, go to Church on Sunday.

I will be at all of these and so will a bunch of other guys, if you need a ride please call me.

Every single day of our Chicago trip, we ate like there was no tomorrow. Had our first lunch at Niu, a Japanese fusion restaurant in downtown Chicago. Extremely delicious king crab and sushi.

Three orders of king crab! We devoured each leg so quickly, there was barely time to catch a shot before each plate vanished!

Everyone loves sashimi…except my godparents’ kids, to the benefit of everyone else.

Pink Lady and Strawberry Fields (behind) sushi rolls:

The Transformer roll – some banana tempura wrapped inside! An unusual combination, but I liked it a lot. But I’m still wondering why it’s called a Transformer roll…

The Sexy Mexican (not sure that’s politically correct but it was tasty) and Rainbow rolls (behind).

August 2006

It was the beginning of move-in weekend at NIU. I was partying it up at the Kutcher House despite having just transferred to another school. I was standing outside talking to some of the Kutcher guys when I received a text from Jack, wanting to meet up later that night. He just started graduate school at NIU but his dumbass went home to Carol Stream for the weekend, while I went to Dekalb in hopes of running into him. Ironic. I moved quickly and texted Leo, I knew he was in town visiting his fraternity, the Tiki House.

Lynx: We should totally fuck tonight.
Leo: I’m in Dekalb, what about you?
Lynx: 4 houses down, with the Kutcher Boys.
Leo: Come on over, I’ll be on the third floor.

I met up with him and his best friend, Jean-Luc, in some brother’s room. Of course it was filled with girls. I sat next to Leo on the couch while Jean-Luc handed me beers. I was a little uncomfortable only because even though I had been to the Tiki House enough, they were not my friends and I still was a Kutcher girl. I  didn’t know these girls that kept putting their hands on Leo and telling him how hot he was. I found the whole thing entertaining. I remember thinking if I had cared about him at this point in time, I should have been jealous. But I didn’t give a damn. However I was growing impatient. I thought I was going to show up, have a beer, bone, and then get back to the Kutcher House. He was actually making me hang out with everyone.

When people began passing out, Leo tried finding a place for us to go. He graduated the previous spring and no longer lived at the house. We ran into a brother who was going to some skank’s apartment and said we could have his room. If I took the time to think about it, I could tell you how many months it had been since Leo and I saw each other last. We had just gotten reacquainted with each other through AIM a couple weeks earlier. I knew that Leo hadn’t had sex in 5 or 6 months due to a pregnancy scare with some other girl. He wanted to get back into the game and I was more than willing to help a “friend” out.

Leo tried to kiss me. Since he made me wait, I wasn’t in the mood for the usual moves that lead to sex. It was happening and it sure as hell didn’t need kissing to initiate it. I was drunk and climbed on top of him. We fucked a lot that night, it still holds my record, but I can’t remember if we started with clothes on or if it all came off later. I was wearing a skirt that night, so it’s possible I rode him with it on. The frat house doesn’t have air conditioning and the room we fucked in only had a ceiling fan which didn’t do us any good.

After having sex the third time (but not the last time), I lay on the futon, spent and satisfied. I was too tired to move away from Leo. On the verge of drifting to sleep, I heard someone at the door playing with the knob. It was locked so this drunk resourceful person successfully keyed the door (why did I never have this luck??). Leo and I were completely nude when the drunk person, a Tiki brother, walked in on us. He was pretty surprised at the sight of us. I didn’t try to cover myself, it was way too damn hot.

Tiki Brother: What the hell is going on here?
Leo: Umm…
Tiki Brother: Dude [room's owner] said I could crash here.
Leo: Yeah…I’m sorry man. As you can see the room’s a bit occupied. I owe you next time!

After he left we had sex again, and again, and again- well you get the point. I would have loved to tell you we fucked that many times without kissing once, and you can blame me for this one, but his face was way too close to mine so I just went for his mouth. And as I once told Boomp, “It didn’t mean anything!” It’s good that Leo was able to unleash on me. After I was dropped off at my car in the morning, Leo and Jean-Luc went paintballing. It was Leo’s first time and lucky him, he got shot in the dick. It was blue and black for a while.

Hey everyone!

This is my first post, and I’m very excited.

I just got back today from Whitewater Wisconsin. There I spent four days on the UW campus with roughly twenty other students, including my new adviser for my school newspaper Ben Tripp. We were under the instruction of Linda Barrington (Member Vice President of the Kettle Moraine Press Association), Jim Killam (Adviser for NIU’s Northern Star), and Joe Koshollek (photographer for the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel).

Milton High School Senior, Jeremiah Clift, snaps photos of KEMPA Summer campers waiting for instruction. Jeremiah is a photographer for Milton High Schools Newspaper, M.H.S. Today.

Day 1: My first day at KEMPA Journalism Camp was like the first day of any other camp I’ve been to. The sweat dripped down my back as I carried my luggage to Fischer Hall in ninety-plus degree heat.  I entered the building and the first thing I noticed was the lack of air conditioning. After checking in I received my room assignment. I dropped my bags off and left the building for fresh air. As i left the front entrance, I ran into my room mate, Jeremiah Clift. Jeremiah is a senior at Milton High School, and a photographer for their paper M.H.S. Today. After we finished unpacking it was nearing noon. I headed off downtown with my mother, who accompanied me on my drive, to a small cafe in town.

Joe Koshollek, Photojournalist for the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, is demonstrating the proper use of a windowlight in a mug shot.

Our first core session began at 2:15, in room 312 of Heide Hall.  The camp was split into two core groups, Newspaper and Photojournalism. There we became aqainted with our instructer, Joe Koshollek, and began going over our plans for the next few days.

After we were acquainted with our instructor, it was now time to become acquainted with our fellow campers. For forty five minutes we took part in a couple of activities. The first activity was essentially a game of tag, but with a twist. You were to be given a random name tag, with the name of another camper, and you were to put it on backwards so the tag rested on your back. The object of the game was to run around and try to find your name tag while hiding the one in your own possession at the same time. It did not take long for me to find mine, but unfortunately the name of the person in possession of my name tag was the name on the tag I was randomly given. Our second activity was a poster design contest. We were split in to four groups of four to five people in each and given poster board and markers. In thirty minutes we ended, my team barely completed ours.

It was quarter to five and Jeremiah and I decided to head over to Heide Hall for dinner. I had never eaten campus food before so it was an adventure. As we approached the building the sound of hundreds of people became more apparent. The college campus was host to many camps that specialized in activities ranging from Football to playing the Flute. Dinner quality on the first day was fine, I had broccoli and cheese with red potatoes.

Rick Wood, Photojournalist for the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, gives a presentation to KEMPA Summer Journalism campers. Rick Wood has traveled the world and has documented many events such as the Olympics and 9/11.

6:15pm came and it was time to head back to Heide Hall for our first Large Group session. Our guest of the day was Rick wood of the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel. Rick was on location of 9/11 terrorist attack  just after the first plane hit. Rick has also documented many things from fashion shows to North Korea. He had so many experiences to share in one hour and fifteen minutes. Personally, I felt it was a privilege, I greatly admired his work.

Senior at Fort Atkinson High, Krystal Pence, Is stunned by an article written in Stoughton High School's newspaper, The Norse Star. "I can't believe they wrote that!" said Pence.

At 9:15pm all campers and staff met in the basement of Fischer Hall for ice cream and to share each others High School publications. Some publications were as small as four pages, others were as large as fifty. Everyone gave great feedback to each other.

10:30-Check in@Dorms

11:30-lights out

Day 2: Breakfast at 7:15am meant waking up early to shower and beat the morning rush. I didn’t sleep well due to the quality of our mattresses, and awoke around 6:45. To my surprise I was not the only one awake. Once I had showered I walked with a group of other KEMPA campers to the dining hall. Breakfast wasn’t as enjoyable as dinner the night before. The eggs were so cheep and bland, and the hash browns were over buttered. There was no other way to describe it but atrocious.

Fast forward to Large Group Session. Our guest speaker of the day was James D. Peterson, a lawyer who specializes in intellectual property litigation. Peterson gave us a crash course on “Press Law and Ethics”.  Many influential court cases concerning journalism and the freedom of speech were mentioned such as the Tinker case, and Hazelwood School District v. Kuhlmeier.

After Peterson’s presentation Jeremiah and I set off for lunch, and we were in for a surprise. In this case it was “Sunrise Casserole” which seemed to be the left-overs of breakfast mixed into one. Completely disgusted, I made my way to the deli section of the cafeteria and made myself a cold turkey sandwich.

Cristina Tek and Jamie Swenson, both photographers from Jansvile Parker High School's Valhalla, shoot players from a tennis camp.

At 1:00pm those who signed up for the Special Interests groups met at Heide Hall. The two that were offered were Sports Photography with Joe Koshollek, and Maestro Planning: Just What the Doctor Ordered with Jim Killam. Without hesitation I attended Joe’s Sports Photo session. He showed us what equipment was required for certain shoots and weather conditions, as well as demonstrated what and who to shoot during a game.

During our core session, Joe took the

Milton High School Senior, Courtney Frey, photographs Warhawk basketball camp. Friday June, 25th in the Williams Center Gym on the UW Whitewater Campus.

photographers out to document what we could find. We started with some tennis players, moved on to girls basketball, then finished up with football. Newspaper was given a few assignments to work on, some of the photographers worked collaboratively with the writers.

5-6:oopm-Dinner

6:30-8pm-Core

8-9:30-Bowling

11:00pm-Room check

11:30pm-Lights out

Day 3: During our second core session of the day Joe Koshollek brought in a photographer from Associated Press, Andy Manis, to tell us a

Photographer from Associated Press, Andy Manis defines what is ethical and unethical in retouching photos.

bit more about ethics, specifically to photos. Manis has documented much, even the late Micheal Jackson.

Our Large group Session of the day was graced with the presence of Multi-Media guru, Danielle Guerra. Danielle is a multimedia editor of the Northwest Herald.  Unlike her current position, Guerra started her journalistic career as a freelance photographer

Multi-Media Editor for the Northwest Herald, Danielle Guerra gives a presentation to KEMPA Journalsim campers on Videography.

at The Times of Northwest Indiana. Later on she was offered a job as a videographer at the Northwest Herald. When she was offered the job, Danielle knew very little when it came to a videocamera. After putting much effort into video, it all payed off when she was promoted to Multimedia Editor. Guerra stressed the importance of a well rounded Journalist.  This “one man band”, as she called it, would be the future of Journalism.

5-6:00pm-Dinner

6:30-9:00pm- Core:Movie-Shattered Glass

11:00pm-Room Check

11:30-Lights out

Day 4: It was the last day off camp and I had mixed feelings about it. I enjoyed being there but I also was ready to leave.  Breakfast was a little frightening, not because of the food but because of the fact that all the other camps had left. KEMPA campers seemed to be the only ones left attending meals.

Our second, and last Special Interest Sessions met at 10:30am. When Tragedy Strikes with Jim Killam, and Best of Newspaper Layout & Design with Linda Barrington. My choice, When Tragedy Strikes, was focused on the gloomy events in journalism. The instructor, Jim Killam, is the adviser for the Northern Star at Northern Illinois University, the location of a school shooting that took place in February of 2008. Six were shot dead, including the shooter, and seventeen others were wounded.  One of the deceased was a staff member for the Star. Even though the Journalists were mourning, they had to do their job. The writers and photographers of the Northern Star were first on the scene and documented the action unfolding. Killam shared stories of chaos in the news room. “At one point…”, stated Killam, “I could hear my editor being interviewed over the phone in one ear, and his voice coming out of CNN in the other.” After his stories he spoke about grieving and moving onward after an incident that hits close to home.

Rounds of applause were heard later that day at the “Best of the Best” sideshow and awards. A handful of awards were given out including a General Excellence, Best Lead,  and even a Mr. Boardwalk, awarded to the winner of a Monopoly card game.

4:30pm-Checkout

Joshua Scheibe, Paras Bansal, and Jeremiah Clift walk to their first meeting at the KEMPA Summer Journalism Workshop. They had just finished unpacking and moving in to their dorms.

Warhawk Football camper, Charlie Kowalski, enjoys his ice cream cone in a downpour.

KEMPA Journalism Campers Paras Bansal and Joshuah Scheibe Enjoy ice cream at a party in the basement of Ficher Hall. There campers and staff critiqued publications from all over southern Wisconsin.

Photographer, Cassie Rains poses for the rest of the group in a demostration of fill light.

Milton High School Senior, Jeremiah Clift, snaps photos of KEMPA Summer campers waiting for instruction. Jeremiah is a photographer for Milton High Schools Newspaper, M.H.S. Today.

Photos and text by Derek Brabender.

]]> http://chicagoto.wordpress.com/2009/06/19/chi-niu-japanese-fusion-lounge/ Fri, 19 Jun 2009 02:41:25 +0000 gchatterbox http://chicagoto.wordpress.com/2009/06/19/chi-niu-japanese-fusion-lounge/

First blog post! Can’t wait to tear up my two favorite cities with my unquenchable thirst for decadent living.

My favorite dining partner has been raving about Niu for a while and I’ve been eager to check out the swanky pan-Asian lounge after my restaurant-writing stint at StyleChicago last summer. So on a warm spring evening before a night of barhopping, Niu seemed like a good pick for an impromptu date.

Good pick was an understatement. The main dining area was full (testament to how popular the chic sushi joint is) so the waitress seated us at the smaller entrance lounge. I started off with a Coconut Mojito,which was hands down the most scrumptious cocktail I’ve ever had. I could barely taste the alcohol and the taste of coconut was sweet and subtle – my type of cocktail!

For appetizers, we opted for the Sesame Crispy Calamari, which was a great salty supplement to my mojito buzz! I couldn’t taste much of the jalapeno and spice the menu promised, but the calamari was still tasty – not too rubbery or chewy.

The sushi took a while to arrive, but boy was it worth it. I had been forewarned me that two sushi dishes were MORE than enough, which was a nice plus, considering sushi normally leaves me craving more. We picked the Salmon Delight and the Sexy Mexican, which the waitress told us is a popular choice. I wasn’t surprised at all; the shrimp and crab sushi had a delicious spicy kick to it thanks to the jalapeno and sriracha sauce. People are wary of fusion foods, but here’s an example of fusion sushi done extremely well.

Even better than the Mexican was the Salmon Delight. Topped with a thin slice of lemon peel, this was literally the best sushi I’ve ever had, granted my experience of gourmet sushi is limited. The rice was topped with scallop and a generous helping of the most flavorful fresh salmon I’ve tasted. I recommend trying Niu JUST for this one.

I’ll return to Niu at least once before the summer – for the drinks, the reasonably-priced sushi, and the casual glam atmosphere. Next time, I’m going for a martini, a Mellow Yellow (sushi with mango? I’m intrigued!), and a dessert or two Nicely done, Niu.

Deets: 332 E. Illinois, www.niusushi.com