Our Shafted Christmas.
For all you holiday Shaft fans, we got a full weekend of wicked Christmas fun with the Our Shafted Christmas weekend featuring Shaft friends Rachel Gaither and the ever affable howie&scott. Each group will be debuted a brand new Christmas song written just for the event as a sort of Central Nebraska songwriting challenge that I am sincerely looking forward to the results of.
A series of emails in relation to the upcoming 6-7 December events lead me to the inevitable contemplation of the natural conflict of participating in a Christmas event as an atheist. As anyone will tell you (and as reflected in my music) I am a very staunchly secular non-believer and generally hold any religious event with much disdain. However, with Christmas this is one of the few times where a good combination of paganism and commercialization come together to allow me to just have some fun without worrying about moral implications of such an event. The actual background of Christmas as a holiday is such a bastardization of completely arbitrary early Church doctrine and leftover Greco-Roman pagan beliefs that the actual history of Christmas lends itself to less a Christian holiday and more of a interfaith conglomeration in the form of a festival. Additionally, the fact that Christmas is so commercialized in American culture makes the religious significance of the day of little consequence. And, ultimately, the food's good, the music's good, and it's a great excuse to treat each other like actual human beings. Everyone is their best during Christmas, and I don't see how any rational human being would not want to participate in that. It's in that that I maintain my massive Christmas music collection will little guilt and that I put on a set of Christmas shows with a clear conscience.
I just want everyone to be happy. And, at least during the Christmas season, we all get a shot at making that happen.

Got a new equation for all your mathematics buffs out there: crushed red peppers + salsa + eggs / Mountain Dew = weapon of mass destruction. I currently have sitting in my large intestine a biochemical agent so fierce and unbelievably effective that I'm thanking my lucky stars that I'm not an Arab, lest I would have been arrested and shipped to Camp X-Ray immediately. It is a gastrointestinal creation that deserves a one, perhaps two color upgrade on the national threat color chart. Folks, we have an orange level event coming out of my ass.
Honestly, I'm surprised the human body can even produce something so vile. Though, I suppose garbage in, garbage out. I just wish that the entire city didn't have to suffer for my nutritional sins.

I went and saw the Leonid meteor storm last night. It was positively amazing. After the initial disappointment of some pretty serious cloud cover and, of course, a huge bright full moon, a large clear patch opened up right beside the radiant and allowed us to catch the peak of the storm.
They say that you get a wish when you see a shooting star. If that's the case, then line up people because I got a stockpile a mile long. Contribute to Rob's Rockstar Retirement Fund, buy a wish today!

Being a computer guy may well be the single greatest vocation in the world. The completely unwarranted respect one commands with the knowledge of such obscure acronyms as IDE and USB and PCMCIA is absolutely precious. Take today for example.
I went to Dairy Queen of all places to do a Klez Virus cleanup and solve some printer problems. The machine was this old Pentium II behemoth that was food establishment dinge biege and had dustbunnies so large they might be classified as mutant. I show up and begin to lay my thing down - which is an intricate process indeed - with the assistant manager monitoring my activities feigning comprehension. Amiable enough, we chat while I download the virus removal tool and resolve some I/O conflicts, so he says, "You want something to drink?"
Uh. Drink? Sure. "How about a Mountain Dew?" Like it was teleported from some mystical geek reservoir a 32 ounce Dew was promptly delivered into my hands.
"You need something to munch on? Some fries or something?"
Food? What is this, Christmas? "Yeah, that'd be great." Boom. I have a shit-ton of fries.
The problem becomes more and more involved and I start to zone in on what I'm doing. Soon enough, I get it solved and get ready to leave.
"You want a milkshake or something before you go?"
You have got to be kidding me. "I couldn't possibly refuse." Friends, I think he actually constructed a new Dairy Queen beverage size to contain this Oreo Blizzard. I had literally in my possession a gallon of cookies n' cream ice cream goodness.

It is important to note that anyone can do this stuff. Information Technology is like a two year degree at even the most prestigious schools and most every vo-tech can teach you everything you need to know. Or, if the whole education thing isn't your particular slice of ice cream cake, you can get work experience pretty easily as a phone tech or really any number of venues. This isn't rocket science. Hell, it's not even as intensive as being a car mechanic. And yet, we digital janitors become revered less as men and more as living gods of the realm of technology. In my dorm, my 1337 computing skillz are arguably better known than my rocking abilities (which is quite sad), earning me a presence that is feared and respected like you think of massive ogres as feared and respected. And, honestly, when a med school student is impressed by my knowledge, something in the realm of occupation hierarchies is horribly, horribly askew.
I'm the functional equivalent of a mechanic. But I get twice the respect and none of the bitching or distrust. Though I can't complain too loudly about this idiotic social folkway, probably because my mouth is full of ice cream.

Many thanks to howie&scott, Whitehead and Unashamedly Awful, and, most of all, you for making my 22nd the best birthday ever. Last night something transcended me.

My nights are getting longer and longer. Dealing with a bit of songwriter's insomnia. The two new songs that are going to be debuted Friday are going to be, in my opinion, the strongest, if a bit transcendent, offerings yet. Let me know what you think at the show.

So Natural Selection has been gobbling whole hours of my time and leaving me with little more than a compulsive urge to devote yet more hours to its unrelenting will. If you love games and own Half-Life, pick this up. The concept of a first person shooter and real time strategy game should be enough to get anyone horny, and it delivers on the promise with exquisite execution.
The release date for Blades of Vengeance will be announced in a few days. Stay tuned for the info. Shows this weekend and the next, for which I'll be debuting two new songs. Fiber Optic Pumpkin may be making an appearance at these shows, so miss at your own peril.

Jesus. So, I'm listening to KFKX at work like I normally do (as they have this obsession with playing awesome punk tunes all the time anymore), but, unfortunately, all the cool tunes are punctuated by some seriously crappy taxpayer supported ads.
The cream of this shitty crop has to be the one I just heard. So, its a Smoky The Bear "Don't Turn Colorado Into A Bonfire" ad, only I guess they are trying to be hip to today's youth with a pseudo-hiphop crap track replete with cheap synth and drum machine.
"When you are out camping, do the cool thing and put water over your camp fire. Then be sure to stir it around to make sure it is cool.
So, I just want to know, which inner city urban hiphop listening youth are backpacking in the wooded wilderness? Would they be the same latchkey kids who haven't seen a piece of pristine wood? Why do we need to tell these kids to prevent forest fires when they haven't seen - let alone have access to - a forest?
Seems to me they would be better served if they played patriotic band tunes and just catered the ad to the actual bohunk boyscouting buttgrabbers that are forgetting to dismantle their fires in the first place. I'm not worrying about a Fubu fan flushing California with an unattended open fire.

Tonight I go to bed with the prospect of my nation being under the control of the Republican party. Should we lose the Senate, the liberal movement in the United States is going to be of marginal consequence as Bush's boys with have control of all three branches of government.
The disaster of the past two years will only mark the beginning.

This weeks completely unauthorized and unedited Virgin Ears. Additionally, if you are into this whole "rock" thing, pick up Andrew W.K.'s "I Get Wet" and be rocked like never before.

This week we take another trip north to the mythic ice-covered nether regions of Minnesota, which I am told is more than some fictional place where wrestlers can be governors and Independent candidates can get votes but is in all actuality – get this – a state.
The band is Sterling Waters and the mission is to save country music from the utter pits of commercial Hell in which the genre is gleefully skinny-dipping. A bluesy alt-country sound with a reasonable mix of the singer-songwriter folk of the 70s makes “This Moment” and “Let It Go” a memorable combination of live and studio recordings respectively.
“This Moment” is a solo recording culled from two nights at the vital Amazing Grace Bakery in Sterling Waters homebase of Duluth, Minnesota. As is ever the case, a real pleasure is taken in hearing James Moors solo in his most comfortable element. The ease and relaxed tone of the record shines a warm, intimate light on his progressive lyrics and observations on Americana. “Tumbleweeds and Wal-Mart Bags” and “Distant Skies” are absolute gems of songs that encompass clearly the sort of mission Moors has for your mind and not just your heart.
“Let It Go” is a step beyond the live recording and with its opening “Deep Inside” clearly illustrates the Kansas City blues influence that is hinted at in “This Moment.” Link this with the clear country ballads of “East Texas” and “Million Dollar Show,” and the album might have the initial listener expecting the next Great Divide in Sterling Waters. But, fortunately, this is the kind of country Nashville will never succeed in producing; a heartfelt, lyric-conscious sound that makes you wonder how “Goodbye Twenties, Hello Minivan” ever ended up on the radio, much less on record.
But, how did this heartfelt sound come to be and what is it doing in the Midwest music scene? James Moors was kind enough to take a few moments to answer some of those questions.

Rob: What’s the connection to the Blue Moon? How does someone from Duluth end up playing in a little known venue in Hastings, Nebraska?
James Moors: I had a friend that used to play at the Blue Moon who introduced me to Patti. We became friends and I always had a good time playing there, so I try to stop by whenever I come through.

R: On “Let It Go” you mention that the recording was a result of a grant from an arts endowment in Minnesota. This seems to be a creative way to keep independent, but what are the other sources of revenue that keep Sterling Waters flowing?
J: Most of my income is from gigs and CDs. Consequently I end up playing 150 shows a year. Occasionally a grant comes up that I apply for if I think I got a shot at receiving it. There are a lot of great artists in the area and I am fortunate to have had that for that CD.

R: Have you actively searched for a commercial deal?
J: I don't really know exactly what steps you take. It seems that you spend a lot of money to do all the right things for people to notice you, and consequently you run out of money to do the next record. I just prefer to keep the money in the music. Commercial success would be great, but for me making a living from doing what I love is more important and meeting a lot of amazing people along the way.

R: It seems to me that you have a strange combination of sound in Sterling Waters that is very different from the other stuff coming out of Minnesota right now. What influenced your sound?
J: I would credit listening to a lot of singer-songwriters like Willie Porter and Lucinda Williams… Lucinda Williams is a big influence for me. I like a lot of Steve Earle and at the same time I am attracted to Finn Brothers who were in Crowded House. I'm kinda interested in their pop stylings and crossing that with writing songs about your life and seeing what's going on around you. There's this emotional and this rock essence to it as well.

R: The imagery on “This Moment” appears to be taken from Celtic folklore. Can you tell me how you came about the name Sterling Waters and how that image plays into it?
J: The image is called "The Triple Goddess" it is from Newgrange which is a place in Ireland. For me, it ties in a lot of beliefs with the cycling of life and the seasons. Also within that trinity of earth, us, and the unknown. It sums up us for what we did on that record. In fact, there is a song [The Pen on the Paper] on that disc that I wrote in Hastings.

Who Should Listen: Toby Keith doesn’t speak for everybody. There is country that isn’t mindless, recycled garbage and Sterling Waters would do the avowed rock fan some good.
Who Should Buy: If you liked Sister Hazel and Son Volt, do yourself a favor and pick up “This Moment.”
Where to Go: www.sterlingwaters.com, Thursday, 7 Nov – Blue Moon Café on 2nd Street, 7pm.
Grade: “This Moment,” B “Let It Go,” B-

So, I got some Wendy's tonight and was pleasantly eating my fries while driving along and listening to Life in General, when my incisors bit right into two packets of salt I inadvertently grabbed with the fries. My teeth cut it open in such a fashion that the contents of both packets dumped immediately into my mouth.
I don't know if you've ever ingested about 4 tablespoons of salt in one go, but I can tell you it is unpleasant. What little moisture in my mouth that had remained from the previous consumption of fries was totally desiccated and I was coughing in the middle of Burlington driving about like a goddamned maniac. Below my nose and above my neck I was functionally 80 years old for a full 10 minutes. I've never drank so much so fast in my entire life. I imagine in about thirty minutes the urinal reprecussions are going to add even more discomfort to an already embarassing situation.