Parsifal's Revenge

Hola amigos. What's the rumpus? I know it's been a long time since I rapped at ya, but [insert truthy excuse]. Hey, I saw The Octopus Project last Friday, and they were so bad-ass I cannot begin to tell you... theremin and pink balloons galore. Finally saw "Brokeback Mountain" last night. I went with Amy and my mom, so it was both fun and sad. I've been trolling about YouTube, where bored people put a Blind Guardian song over "Hellraiser" clips and call it soup.

And, boy howdy, that MySpace is a fun time waster. I can have any of a wide variety of good songs blasting at anyone who stumbles upon my page, and I can write as much as I want about how awesome that song is. (Enslaved is up there now.) I am friends with a bunch of bands I really like, some who asked me to be their friend, and I get all sorts of updates on their doings. This is how I found out about the new Agalloch song, a special Katatonia-flavored gift for March. Although I've verified a number of people I'd rather not hear from are lurking about its sprawling network, I've also been contacted by some cool mf's I haven't talked to in a while. Sometimes, some total hoochie will send you a "friend request," which means you get listed as friends on each other's pages and can read each other's frivolous bulletins. It's bizarre to me that some married Christian woman in Idaho who likes horsies and country music would see my big brown page and go, "Oh, I should be 'friends' with that guy." I do not feel bad denying these people friend status, especially since I do not know them.

Then, sometimes you get something like this in your message box:

Subject: i think we live in the same city
Body: hey your profile is awesome!
if you want to chat ill be online right now just hit me on my Yahoo name --> candytaylor87
we can chat for a while if you want don't forget I'll be on the Yahoo name --> candytaylor87
If I'm offline for any reason ADD ME to your contact list to message me later (Ill be waiting 4 u babe)!

If you are one of those special people who cannot recognize spam, this candytaylor87 (her profile name is the more subtle "candice") does not actually exist. The fake profile says she lives in San Francisco, which is not remotely the same as my city. So if candice were an actual human, she would be the dumbest 19 year-old I've ever seen, provided her age is what the "87" is meant to infer. And from her picture, she doesn't seem like a very serious student, either. Perhaps this advertising tool is designed to appeal to guys who get off on stupidity? Depressing. On the bright side, I needed a title for my next single. "(Just) Hit Me On My Yahoo Name" is catchy and hip.

I liked the way the last post turned out, so I think I will try to stick to the single-subject-review format from now on unless I have something really special to blab about. In theory, this should allow me to post more often rather than saving it up for a week. So... I got another amazing Shriek Show box, one all about tangential jungle exploitation movies. It's designed for dudes like me - I assure you, most purchasers of this set are males - who already own "Cannibal Holocaust", maybe received "Cannibal Ferox" as a gift, have read up on cannibal pictures and are curious about the lesser titles of the, um, movement. The film on today's splatter platter is the least "cannibal" of this batch, although considering that it came out in 1985, it was really milking the long-dead cannibal trend by even suggesting it. Yes, It's yet another Italian job I'd wanted to see for a while. I mean, the title alone...

"Massacre In Dinosaur Valley" stars Michael Sopkiw, who diligent readers will remember turning down a bunch of fine Italian women as the moronic Parsifal in "2019: After the Fall of New York." He's much smarter here, and as the subject of both a long interview and the commentary track, I now have a bit of respect for Sopkiw - he's a bit pretentious, but he respects the scrappiness of the Italian schlockmeisters he worked with (here it's Michele Massimo Tarantini) and he readily admits that "Devil Fish" is total turds.

I had been lead to believe "Massacre" was an ultraviolent '80s action film in the vein of Deodato's "Cut and Run", but it's more of a sleazy Indiana Jones/"Romancing the Stone" knockoff with some cannibal elements for seasoning. Either way, if Cannon Pictures would have had an office in Rome, movies like these would surely be the product. The Italian title, "Nudo e Selvaggio," means "Nude and Savage," and that puts its concerns in the proper order of importance for Deodato and crew. There are no dinosaurs in this film, just Sopkiw as self-proclaimed "bone hunter" Kevin Hall, a wussy name for an ass-kicking paleontologist if ever there was one. Among even the lesser movie action heroes of his era, Kevin Hall is not in the same league as Allan Quatermain, or even Jake Speed. However, he does have three attractive girls who spend a lot of their screen time with their mammary glands exposed.

We first meet our hero at a Brazilian hotel that hosts cockfights, where the other guests include a grizzled professor, his saucy but horribly-coiffed daughter Eva, a Vietnam vet who looks and dresses like Udo Dirkschneider, Udo's braying old glamorpuss wife, a fashion photographer and two models way better looking than the twigs in those underwear catalogs that keep showing up in my mailbox. Kevin bone-hunts the hotter (read: brunette) one after he gets his ass kicked defending her honor, but she unfortunately dies when they all get on a plane and it crashes in the fossil-rich "valley of the dinosaurs." Such an amazing special effect with a toy plane you have never seen! Sopkiw says on the commentary, "At least they used the right model of plane, right?" Oh yeah, the professor dies, too. The photog gets his leg chewed off by piranhas before Udo ices him. Kevin gets all uppity, so he and the camo-sporting soldier engage in a manly brawl that sends them rolling down a waterfall, a stunt which Sopkiw says still gives him back problems. At one point, the girls' shirts get wet and the camera literally zooms in on their boobs, first one rack and then the next. In this movie, this is what passes for foreshadowing.

The cannibal antics are pretty low-grade. After the awful old woman drowns in quicksand, the local tribe eats her jerk husband. The chief yanks out his heart and holds it up like Mola Ram, then chows right the hell down. Then they haul the ladies off, strip 'em and make 'em wear some sort of loin-thong things. A dude wearing a big dinosaur skull mask and a fake claw scratches up the blonde model's chestal area to collect some blood in a goblet, but dashing Kevin swoops in to save the day before too much menacing can occur. From there, it's on to a sloooow getaway, some travel sequences and an aborted love scene between Kevin and Eva. The ladies are certainly running around the jungle topless for a long time. The whole shoot must have been pretty degrading for actresses Susie Hahn (Belinda, the model) and Suzane Carvalho (Eva); Hahn never made another movie, and after one more WIP flick with Tarantini, Carvalho quit acting to become a big-deal Formula 3 race car driver.

The final section of "Massacre" involves an emerald-mining slavemaster who looks just like George Clooney in "Syriana." He ties Kevin up with some flesh-eating pigs, and he sticks the ladies in with an aggressive lesbian warden type. This lady has a make-out session with Belinda that would have been erotic if the model's teat wasn't all crusty from the dinosaur claw wound. Then George Clooney smacks Eva around, mashes on her and performs what appears to be a forced dry-humping on her. I think it's supposed to be a rape, but thanks to Tarantini's ineptitude, it's only implied. In a move straight out of "Jewel of the Nile," Kevin gets the pigs to chew through his ropes by bleeding on them. He kills Clooney, but not before the bewhiskered tub o' guts shoots Belinda about twenty times. Kevin and Eva steal a helicopter and fly off: filthy rich with emeralds, completely in love and not seeming very shattered by the events they just lived through. Like, everyone they came down to Dinosaur Valley with dying, including her dad. Well, you know what the Findlays told us: in South America, life is cheap! (And to think, kyle and eden are there right now...)

The "Massacre" is not that "extreme," and I was kind of disappointed at first, but upon watching it again with Sopkiw's commentary, I have to admit a lot of crazy, sordid shit happens in this movie. The music is mostly pretty good retro-electro stuff that made me wish the new Zombi album was already out, but the main theme is especially great. It's basically a boisterous Brazilian samba with chirpy "la-la-la" vocals, yet the singing has that weird vintage echoey European recording that you want from an Italian cannibal movie theme song. Imagine naked women singing it, and that hodgepodge perfectly sums up this movie's appeal.

More reviews are here - the new Yakuza album and James Gunn's "Slither", both recommended by the house. Until next time, keep your hands on the wheel and your eyes on the road.

Boozy, woozy, snoozy, pumpkin doozy

Last weekend was a blur of consumption the likes of which I haven't seen since I don't know when. St. Patrick's Day is usually a handy time to get smashed and numb whatever ills March is bestowing, but I originally intended to repeat my Mardi Gras activity and sit at home by myself. Yet after a single bottle o' Killian's, I found myself back in DuPage, the county which spawned me and which which keeps calling me home. While I opted out of the Irish car bombs Jenny and her crew were serving, I managed to take down a few international brews which worked way better than I anticipated. Following that, my reinstated Hala Kahiki March gathering didn't have the epic scale as that one in Y2K, where the number of guests topped 30 and our collective bill topped a grand, but we did all right. A surprising amount of people bailed after saying they were coming, which was probably due to my making them feel somehow unwelcome even though they were invited... I'm sorry if that was you. We still overflowed our initial table thanks to the impromptu DuPage contingent. And since when will three Zombies and a Pele put me under? My system just can't process the booze like it used to, I guess. At the end of the night, I found myself back at the same Glen Ellyn dwelling as the night before, once again amazed at how soused I was. Recovery was slow. Mad props to all of you who made it out, and those of you who didn't... well, we very much missed you, but you would have had to sit on someone's lap, and Christ knows you didn't want that.

This will be a weird week at work, with the stupid primary election and all. I have been warned I may need to stay at the office until 2 a.m. or later on Tuesday. So I'll have to tape "The Shield" finale, but I can wear normal clothes and go in late. This gave me an excuse for an experiment I've been thinking about for a while. Some music writers like the "listening party" approach to writing reviews, but I've never tried it myself. It's big with web zines because of their capacity for instant publication. The approach is basically to taunt other music nerds with your supreme ultranerdiness: "Dude, I'm way cooler than anyone because I am a preferred member of the media, and I got the new Raging Boner album two months before its release, so I'm gonna flex and describe the whole thing track by track on my first listen. It will be like you are here with me, hearing the new Raging Boner opus in all its boner-popping splendor. Except you are not. I win at life. You are a shit and a nobody. Up the Bonerz!"

Now, I just got the new Helloween album a few hours before I started typing. (I hesitate to say it's "new," since it was out for almost half a year before I finally got off my duff and ordered it last week. I had been afraid of the Japanese import price, not to mention some other concerns I mentioned a while back.) So, this is like a "you're there for my first impressions" piece, but for a record that's already been heard many times by everyone else on the planet who would care about it - especially anyone who's also commemorated its creative source on their skin and had a bald girl serve them a hamburger in Hamburg, the prostitute-teeming German port town in which said creative source was founded. So here goes, let's nerd it up.

HELLOWEEN

Keeper of the Seven Keys - The Legacy

Disc One

1. "The King For A 1000 Years" [13:54] - This one, I already know. I got the "Mrs. God" single some months ago, and since I got that for the b-side "Run (The Name of Your Enemy)", I opted for the cost-effective German version that includes this semantically-challenged epic in place of the "single edit" of "My Life for One More Day" that's on the Japanese single. "King" definitely gave me some hope. As long Helloween songs go, it's up there with "Revelation" and "Mission Motherland" (the last song before this one where all five members got writing credit), although of course not in league with untouchable classics "Halloween" and "Keeper of the Seven Keys." Lots of tempo changes, choir punctuations, well-placed keyboard accoutrements and nifty little melodies, a fine example of Andi Deris' vocal adaptability. The lyrics, now that I'm actually reading them, seem to be the flipside of "Halloween," where someone got tempted by good and evil, chose good and became the fabled Keeper of the Seven Keys. I think this one is about a guy who is seduced and conquered by evil. The King is the bad Keeper, then.

2. "The Invisible Man" [7:17] - This is a lot more straightforward than the whiz-bang opener. Meat-and-potatoes metal seems to be Sascha Gerstner's songwriting forte, judging from his decent contributions to the last record. It's midtempo, and seems a bit plain after "King." The lyrics are pretty dumb, some sort of mystical guardian angel thing that may or may not have something to do with the "concept" here, which is admittedly vague-to-nonexistant enough to compare with that on the original Keeper albums. Still, the tune's pretty good. It picks up in the Weikath/Gerstner harmony solo. The piano tinkling during the fade-out is a nice touch, as is Markus Großkopf's ever-exploring bass, which is very clear in Charlie Bauerfiend's somewhat clinical mix.

3. "Born On Judgement Day" [6:14] - The last song started with Markus showing off. This time, it's new drummer Dani Löble's turn. He's got some chops. There's an awesome part in the middle of the solo where the rhythm section goes at it for a while. Otherwise, it's a standard fast Helloween sing-along, which I can always handle if it's actually Helloween doing it. Michael Weikath can write a song like this in his sleep and have it turn out OK. I wonder what his dedication to "all people in Brasil" means - for you, does the date Sept. 15, 2004 bring to mind some major event which I've forgotten in my American haze? It starts out "My mother died close to me," so maybe that's the day his mother passed away? In Brasil? I feel like I'm a bad fan if I don't know that sort of thing. Anyway, good song. Three for three.

4. "Pleasure Drone" [4:10] - Another midtempo Sascha Gerstner tune. The lyrics are interesting, continuing Helloween's legacy of making fun of simulated experiences, from the phone S&M gibing of "Mr. Torture" and the plastic surgery japes of "Silicon Dreams" to the video game scolding in "The Game Is On" - itself a curious sentiment going back to their debut and its Greig-quoting evil pinball machine anthem "Gorgar." But the apparent sexuality in "Drone" is a bit confusing. (I don't think a woman ghost-wrote these lyrics, but now that I think about it, the music is somewhat Accept-like. Is this a tribute?) At first, the lyrics address a dude who is crying over losing his best girl, telling him not to mope but come hang with the titular speaker, who will give him presents and detect "bad vibes" with its "laser eyes." I think it's supposed to be some sort of a femme-bot speaking, and this is another sly warning against hiding in fantasy when reality becomes hard to manage. But the singer is obviously a guy, and Andi Deris is not seducing in the same context as the devil character he played on the first song... I mean, I'm all for gender-bending, but I didn't know Deris was. Still, songwriter and guitarist Sascha Gerstner, who only joined Helloween on their last disc, was in the early incarnation of Gamma Ray side project Freedom Call, who had the balls to call their great debut album Stairway to Fairyland and kicked it off with a number entitled - I shit you not - "Over the Rainbow." It's not like it upsets me or anything, it's just curious. Not a bad hard rock/metal song, not the best here so far.

5. "Mrs. God" [2:57] - This is the single, the other song I've heard already. I didn't like it at first, but now I think of it as Helloween's tribute to straight-up power pop. Once the jaunty, mechanical guitar melody gets stuck in your head, resistance is futile. I think the lyrics are Deris saying, "OK, I believe in God, and I think God must be a woman, and She is messing with me since so many women have given me a hard time."Or something like that. And trying to be witty about it. I've always seen Deris' glam rock past and preoccupation with writing songs about the opposite gender as drawbacks, since it really wasn't a common Helloween lyrical theme until he joined. The subject nearly suffocated the last album. I pretty much don't like Andi's relationship songs. This one at least has the word "shit" in the chorus. There is a funny cow noise in it. It's catchy, not sappy, and over soon.

6. "Silent Rain" [4:22] - On the other hand, Andi Deris has a real problem with child abuse, and I can respect that. His first solo record had a really sad single called "1000 Years Away," a true story about a little boy who killed himself to get away from his drunken asshole father. On "Silent Rain," he writes a pretty bleak, sympathetic portrait of a little girl being sexually abused by her perverted asshole father. Only the music (by Gerstner) is either bopping away at a Judas Priest chug or a total German speedfest, and the chorus has that "triumphant" Helloween quality that Martin Popoff once smartly designated "the soundtrack to some sort of World Cup sideshow." This song rocks too much to be about such a genuinely depressing subject. The result is effectively bittersweet, but not all wispy as that might imply. A strange way to end the first disc.

I'm tigered. I'll save disc two for bright and early tomorrow.
...sleeping...
Yawn! Coffee. Smoke. German power metal. I'm awake.

Disc Two
1. "Occasion Avenue" [11:05] - The other epic. Forgetting the title and not having the disc until yesterday evening, I've been erroneously calling this "Fascination Street" in my head. (Although Helloween is prone to eccentric covers, they're one of the last bands I'd want to hear doing a Cure song.) It starts like the debut Helloween EP, with a guy scanning the radio dial, but instead of Billy Joel, here he gets snippets of "Halloween" and "Keeper of the Seven Keys." This song has more of a "modern" feel at first, the music is more rhythmic and not as melodic as usual. It's another good Deris showcase, even though I'm sure the title was somehow confounded by his German-English dictionary. It's about making moral decisions like the Keeper and the King, choosing which path to take. Of course, with lyrics like "Great will be your status/When you know how to lick anus/When you lie and swindle ruthless/And your biggest hero's Judas," it's nothing that's going to set the world ablaze. The music is good, though, and it changes up a fair amount once it gets going. I must once again commend the strong bass sound on this record, which befits the skills of the underrated Großkopf.

2. "Light the Universe" [5:00] - Here's an "If I Could Fly"-style pepped-up power ballad where Deris gets to duet with Candice Night, the cloak-and-corset-sporting singer for Ritchie Blackmore's willowy medieval project Blackmore's Night. She sort of sounds like Stevie Nicks, but less zoned out. She fits the pseudo-mystical tone of the tune. I haven't really loved a Helloween ballad since Deris and Uli joined in '94, and I don't love this, but it's not the worst. Nothing more to say, really.

3. "Do You Know What You Are Fighting For" [4:46] - That's the title - no question mark - and it's finally another Weiki song. It kind of reminds me of Maiden's "Wrathchild," contains some "bad attitude" '70s hard rock riffs and the anthemic chorus is kind of awkwardly inserted. The lyrics are classic Weiki, though, warning against following causes/leaders who manipulate and deceive. Michael Weikath has always been a paranoid, authority-distrusting dude. Not great, not terrible.

4. "Come Alive" [3:21] - This sounds silly at first, with another '70s hard rock riff right off the bat, then goes on to curiously resemble a Masterplan filler track. Songwriter Deris keeps interjecting a whoop of "wee! wee!" like a Teutonic Michael Jackson; it's kind of annoying. At one point he says "scream - on Halloween," but wastes a good opportunity to quote the band's earlier hit with a background screech. This song is really kind of bland. My least favorite so far, as I might have expected from that cheeseball title.

5. "The Shade In the Shadow" [3:25] - This is more like it. Deris redeems himself from "Come Alive." He says the word "shadow" about 900 times in this song, which lyrically is about as deep as "The Invisible Man." It's bog-standard Helloween, which means it at least has a defining characteristic and some individual personality within the catalogue. The cool "plummeting" guitar run during the chorus would qualify for that. This Löble fellow is quite a good fit for Helloween, I must say - lots of activity on the drums.

6. "Get It Up" [4:14] - Oh, Weiki. I think he intended to write another "Power" here, and he comes close. A valentine to fans as well as the band's own tenacity, with a Manowarish "thank you for still coming to our concerts" message I'm sure is very heartfelt. It would be a good choice for a single but for the grizzled band dictator's ridiculous word choice. For instance, the chorus: "Let's get it up, rock's here to stay/With the best years of our lives we paid our share/Yeah, yeah/Now tell me what is in our way/To push this right in the face every day." I could imagine this cerebral chorus surviving in the era of "Whatchoo gonna do with all that junk/All that junk inside that trunk"... if only it took such a courageous stand for miscegenation. One of my favorite aspects of Helloween lyrics, along with occasionally unusual subjects and generally agreeable positive sentiments, is how blithely unaware they are of how bizarre or outright dumb some of their phrasing is. A wise woman once pointed out to me that the reason power metal is so popular in non-English speaking countries is that the actual lyrics are never as important as how the melodies sound and how the words feel; this makes sense to me as an English speaker who enjoys how black metal vocals sound when spewing Norwegian or Finnish. Yet, the thought of a stadium full of South Americans hollering "Let's get it up!" while Deris flashes his pearlies in rock n' roll rapture is way too funny to me. The disc is picking up after a dull spot there, which is good.

7. "My Life For One More Day" [6:53] - Another fast one to leave on a good note. It opens like "Falling Higher" or "Kings Will Be Kings," with a baronial guitar harmony before the drums kick into steamroller mode. Cowritten by Deris and Großkopf, it's thus a step up from "The Shade In the Shadow." As usual, Markus' song is more aggressive and excellent without exception. The lyrics address the old Keeper story directly, the wizened warrior passing his seven-key-throwing-torch to a young buck. Apparently, the one sea of vice that was not properly locked up the first time is the fourth one, greed. This makes sense considering the context of other references to the story throughout the album. The Weiki/Gerstner harmony solo is very nice here. This is a pretty damned good way to end a Helloween album.

8. "Revolution" [5:06] - This is why I always get the expensive version of a new Helloween album. The bonus track is how Japanese record companies lure buyers from getting European or American imports, which are somehow cheaper than domestic albums over there. They require a Japan-only bonus track for their license of albums, and since Helloween recognizes that Japan kept them afloat during the '90s, they don't fuck around with remixes or live tracks - except for the wicked Accept cover on Rabbit Don't Come Easy, it's always been a real extra Helloween song. And being a Markus Großkopf composition, it is of course totally worth the dough. It's all there: thrashy riffs, memorable melodies, nice lyrics in the "Walk Your Way" tradition about believing in yourself and the power of inner strength. Without "Revolution," the entire double album is only 77:38 long, which means it could actually fit on one disc; the bonus track at least pushes it over 80 minutes and justifies the second hunk of plastic. On the U.S. version, you just get the lame "Mrs. God" video, and the packaging is wider, taking up more shelf space. I'm glad I finally ponied up for this album, and that I didn't go for the domestic. I'd give it three out of four pork chops (for Helloween... three and a half if this was any other band).

Another 48 questions

A MySpace quiz, courtesy of abraxasworld. I am one lazy S.O.B.

1. What's your middle name?:
Michael.

2. Is your cell phone a flip phone?:
Yup yup. Where you at, dawg?

3. Have you ever been to New Jersey?
Yes. In the troubling days of April 2001, I went with Funk Dracula to visit Kyle, meet Renee and see Opeth's second American show. I remember that we left the day after my mom lost her job.

4. What's your favorite soda?
Cherry Coke or Barq's (root beer with caffeine!)

5. Do you have satellite?
No, but the first album for which I ever wrote a review was called Beloved Satellite. Be glad you have never heard of Sativa Luvbox.

6. Where do you want to retire?
Someplace peaceful and coniferous.

7. What's the longest road trip you've been on?
Don't know... that trip to Jersey was epic. In eighth grade I rode with my uncle and cousins down to Texas. Probably one of those.

8. What's your favorite smiley?
Tavis.

9. Do your parents buy lottery tickets in hopes of winning?
I don't think they do it often, but when they do I imagine they hope to win.

10. What year were you born?
1975.

11. Do you like the smell of Sharpies?:
Yes.

12. What does your screensaver look like?:
At home, it's a bunch of old movie posters I have in the "My Pictures" folder, stuff like "Humanoids from the Deep," "Red Sonja" and "I Hate My Body!" At work, the screen goes pink and in big white letters it reads: ")) <> (( FOREVER." (People who get it think it's hilarious.)

13. Do you have an iPod?:
No, I have no use for it. Seriously, I'm rarely any place I don't have a CD player at my disposal. And do I look like I'm into ab blasts or quad crunches?

14. What's your biggest pet peeve?:
Ignorance (especially ignoring the elephant in the room).

15. What shoe size do you wear?:
12.

16. What's your favorite kind of cereal?:
Trader Joe's organic granola is awesome. Peanut Butter Crunch is my childhood favorite.

17. Do you ever listen to classical music?:
Everybody listens to classical music sometimes, like everyone listens to country or smooth jazz or goddamned fucking zydeco sometimes. Whether you do so by choice is another matter. I don't have anything against straight-up classical but own more "neo-classical," because I'm really a rock guy. (I have several metal versons of Orff's "Carmina Burana," for instance.) Overall, classical is underrepresented in my regular listening habits.

18. What kind of instruments do you play?:
Saxophone in grade school, but that's long forgotten. Now I'm better suited for tambourine, cowbell, handclaps or background vox.

19. Do you like Girl Scout cookies?
For the most part. Expensive fucking things, though.

20. Have you ever ridden in a limo?:
Yes.

21. Do you like Hummers?:
Yes. Wait, the military vehicles? Every time I see some spray-tanned, only-smokes-cigars-in-public honky driving one, I think, "You could have gotten the same effect and saved more money for coke, hookers and Republican fundraisers by just getting 'ASSHOLE' tattooed across your forehead."

22. Do you know any foreign languages?:
Covered on a previous quiz. A little Spanish, random words from others.

23. Are you scared of horses?:
That is a fucking hilarious question. I rarely come in contact with them. I'm more scared of movies starring actresses who look like horses.

24. Do you like milk chocolate or dark chocolate?
Both.

25. Do you wear glasses?:
Again, previously covered. Sunglasses.

26. Does it annoy you when people misspell things?:
Sometimes. I usually think stupid people are funny.

27. Do you like the beach or the mountains better?:
Are you fucking kidding me? The mountains. Beaches are usually hot, messy, boring and littered with preening fucksticks and their screeching, unholy offspring.

28. Have you ever taken cough medicine when you didn't have a cough?:
I drank a whole bottle of Vick's 44D my freshman year of college. I fell asleep in my dorm room, and when I woke up, I thought I was at my grandma's house.

29. Have you ever been to band camp?:
No.

30. Do you know any guys with a receding hair line?:
Some have argued that I do not know myself, but I think I do.

31. Do you know what Chacos are?:
A new competitor of Choco-Tacos? According to Google, they are some kind of overpriced hippie half-shoes.

32. Do you own a Nalgene?:
No, but I have everything Naglfar has done. The new one is growing on me:

Naglfar: The Perpetual Horrors

Video Code by YourVideoCodes.com

33. Have you ever watched "Room Raiders" on MTV?:
Why would I want to do that? It sounds like the worst parts of "Queer Eye" without the camp. The last MTV product in which I had any sustained interest was "Wonder Showzen", the poor man's "TV Funhouse". (I thought "Wonder Showzen" was canceled to make more room for promoting the embarrassing Simpson and Osbourne families, but it's actually returning later this month.)

34. What's the best present you've ever got?:
The one that comes to mind is a very nice voice mail I got for my last birthday, but that turned out to be a sort of, um, Indian gift. My parents took me on a trip to Vegas for my 21st birthday; that was rad.

35. What's your favorite popsicle flavor?:
Root beer.

36. Do your parents give you an allowance?:
Yeah, if I clean my room, feed Lil' Scraps and remember to wash my hands before praying.

37. Did you ever watch Rugrats when you were little?:
No, I wasn't little when it was on. Plus I thought the animation was ugly and boring. The voices were shrill. A good example of the generation gap, since I hang out with people who were young enough not to see how crappy it was.

38. How many groups are you in on myspace?
None. I already have 35 friends - Porcupine Tree just sent me a friend request. That's cool right there. I don't need more interaction.

39. What do you think of standardized tests?:
They certainly prove how well the person taking them can take standardized tests.

40. What's the craziest dare you've ever done?:
I cannot think of one.

41. Have you ever cheated on a test?:
Sure, not since high school. I remember getting busted for writing the answers to a freshman honors English test on my hand.

42. Have you ever choked on your own spit?:
Probably.

43. Do you like roller coasters?:
Yes.

44. When was the last time you went rollerblading?
Never. I would prefer to keep it that way.

45. Have you ever wished you had a twin?:
No way. I wanted a sibling when I was a youth, but now I realize that would have impeded my growth as a loner.

46. Do you have a caffeine addiction?
Yessir, and I love it.

47. Do you get claustrophobic easily?:
Only in places where I'm lying down and can't sit up, such as waterslides, coffins, etc.

48. Would you ever kiss on the first date?:
I don't make a habit of it, but it's been known to happen. Curiously, while I haven't gotten a lot of ladies to agree to second dates, it's always happened if we've kissed on the first. Maybe I should be more of a masher. With this beard, all I need is a sailor's cap and I could be the next Bluto (read "Olive and the Bad Boys").

Outrageous fortune cookie

Whoo. This is what I did last Saturday: woke up, cleaned the entire condo, took a shower, cooked and ate some pizza, watched more "Six Feet Under," went to The Wizard's and enjoyed the ridiculous "Alien Predator", started the racially sensitive "Slam Dunk Ernest" just as Amy's little brother showed up, booked down to Ravenswood, met up with yeti betty and Turbo, drove with betty to Ukrainian Village, said hello to Funk Dracula, got into the Empty Bottle in time to see a chunk of ass rocking by The Sword (thanks again, sista), bought a Red Stripe from the ever-personable Bruce Lamont, stepped out during the bland Priestess (who for some reason sounded much better upon our return), got totally blown away by Early Man, dropped off betty, booked back to Arlington Heights to see Patch and (a sleeping) meredith, returned home, put some clean sheets on the bed and passed out. Now, that was not boring. I'm guessing this weekend might be like that, too. Hooray!

Here's a look at some recent musical diversions I've enjoyed. Keepers only, obviously.

Early Man - Closing In: You're not a poseur if you at least know what the hell you're "supposed to" be doing; this logic has kept Manowar afloat in Europe for decades. Now, here comes Early Man, this way-hyped band from Austin, TX, hipster capital of the freaking universe. Their debut full-length came out on indie rock powerhouse Matador Records (Sleater-Kinney, Yo La Tengo, the mighty Interpol, my MySpace friend Cornelius), who apparently did well enough with Dead Meadow to take another stab at retro metal. So when I went to their show at the Bottle Saturday night, I was expecting bluesy butt rock with bong-rattling bass and uncommitted vocals, which admittedly can be good if done right. Holy crap, was I wrong. I'm watching this Early Man and I'm thinking of Diamond Head and Angel Witch and Savage and Holocaust (thus Sabbath, UFO, young Maiden and teenage Metallica, too), with not an ounce of smug we-all-know-we're-smarter-than-this-music irony to be found. I bought this CD right after they finished, for no other reason than they had a bunch of hooky NWOBHM riffs that I wanted to hear again and I really wanted to support what they are doing - furthering an open-minded cross-breeding of metal and indie rock that has produced some intriguing results over the last half-decade or so (see Pelican, Giant Squid, Hammers of Misfortune, Tarantula Hawk, The Fucking Champs... bless California). Closing In is not a letdown, either. How many times have I seen a wicked song title like "War Eagle" on the back of a CD, only to be disappointed by some bland, plodding crap? Early Man's "War Eagle" gallops away like pub-era Maiden, amateur yet adequate vocal yelps included. "Feeding Frenzy" could be an obscure, long-lost Bay Area thrash band on Vicodin. This pretentious metal-hater thinks "Fist Shaker" sounds like Ratt. Believe me, I've checked it out, it's a facile comparison. It sounds more like Anthrax's "Medusa," and not to speak ill of the dead, but dropping in such an effortless little riff for the bridge seems more the cerebral province of a John Schaffer or a vintage Glenn Tipton than of a Robbin Crosby. Not all the songs are so grabby, and the recording's a bit polite, but even without one of those White Stripes-sounding "naked" productions The Wizard hates so much, you can smell the smoke, cheap beer and sweat Early Man obviously strives to invoke. If they ultimately find the indie community a hard sell, these guys should play at the Alehorn of Power Festival or the Classic Metal Festival (if it's even happening this year), as their sound is sure to be a hit with geezers who actually like and follow old-school metal - once they realize these kids are not poseurs.

Oblomov - The Final Destination: In the fabled days of yore, fledgling metal bands communicated beyond the local scene by snail mail, hauling piles of demo cassettes down to the post office after work and taking out ads looking for traders in all the magazines. Today, fledgling metal bands put their demos up on their web sites for free download, or at least as streaming audio, a relatively cheap and handy way to get your music to people who might be interested. (MySpace trumps even the late, lamented mp3.com for all kinds of music, to the point that while gazillions of independent musicians maintain their own sites, all the big and rich stars - like, say, Big & Rich - have fans loyal enough to devote "tributes" to them.) But this here Oblomov outfit from the Czech Republic doesn't have a MySpace page. They still host their entire 2002 demo on their own site, for those who have heard (or like myself, read about) their recent debut album and are curious to hear their embryonic output. You can download it yourself if you take the link above, along with full cover art. That's effective marketing, because after hearing this and some recent tracks, I intend to buy the amusingly-titled Mighty Cosmic Dances. The Czech Republic has a history of experimental, wrong-sounding black metal going back to the outrageous Master's Hammer (look at those song titles!) and the mystifying Root. Still, I guess I don't expect this level of exploration from a demo-level metal band from the former Eastern bloc... puerile Mayhem worship with recycled neo-Nazi lyrics or unlistenably muddy and misogynistic gore-grind, maybe, but Oblomov instead offers a spacy electronic intro, an "ocean sounds" outro, a guest female vocalist, hummable riffs and considerable promise. The only major problem is the mix, which separates all the instruments into their own cold corners - the snare drum sounds like an empty milk cannister, the loud keys suck out the guitar's impact, the vocals are extra-distorted to the point they're occasionally blown out. But I've heard worse examples of all of that on commercially released albums. Oblomov's got damn ideas. They do a song about the "Twin Peaks" movie, and while not especially deep overall the lyrics are relatively intelligent things about death, the environment, phantasms and whatnot. This is not black metal, more a slowish sort of melodic death with gothy tangents that occasionally launches into black metal blastbeats, which when combined with that inelegant drum sound nearly overwhelm everything (see "Cradle for the Bleeding"). I guess I sound pretty negative, but I like this. It's low-budget Eurometal and the style is not very distinct, but the material is admirably ambitious, and with good sound these riffs could really sink in. A good demo evinces possibilities that let you hear through its faults, while a great demo can make you play it over and over again. This is a good demo.

The Octopus Project - One Ten Hundred Thousand Million: Now watch me try to write about some music I don't know anything about, but pretty much like. I came across the name The Octopus Project a few times in the course of my work and from some perfunctory snooping, they sounded pretty interesting despite their Austin address. Sadly, my album purchases have dwindled in porportion with other expenses rising (I'm getting old), and so my record dollar usually goes to some metal band or otherwise known quantity. Yet I finally got around to checking out The Fiery Furnaces, who I really like, and now The Wizard of Gore has been so kind as to burn me this, The Octopus Project's recent album, along with its predecessor Identification Parade. So, tell me, those of you who know this stuff... is this post-rock? Electronic rock? It's some kind of egghead bachelor pad stuff, no vocals, some samples, light on geetars but heavy on whimsical whoops, whooshes, blips and bleeps. I truly love the live drumming on this, which right from the first track is powerful and lively. The guitars have that warm, fuzzy indie rock sound, all echoey and blissed-out. "All of the Champs That Ever Lived" could be a pretty straightforward snippet of one of those live electronica/jam rock acts, basically a pleasant bit of dance rock, but for the funny noises buzzing around. "Six Feet Up" sounds like a spy theme, riding a groovy jazz bass line, and the guitar even thrashes out a bit. Some of the tracks are a sort of IDM-with-instruments affair, which from my limited perspective reminds me of the quieter, clickety-clack stuff Aphex Twin does mixed with the more tangible style of múm. There's a lot of texture in The Octopus Project's electro-acoustic mix, and it's generally very bright, with processed beats and chirping birds and static and swirling guitars and cool keyboard noises all spinning around each other. In comparison, Parade is more subdued, thus to me a little more tedious, although it has a number of fun, creative tracks equal to the caliber of One Ten... Check out The Octopus Project if you're at all curious, especially if you're into weird laptop music. This stuff is not my forte, but it's very engaging.

Amorphis - Eclipse: As far as I'm concerned, Amorphis never fell off. A lot of people who followed them from the time they were teenagers banging out Suomi-tinged Entombed/Dismember riffs got scared off by the Finns' living up to their name, changing gradually record by record into a heavy psychedelic/folk/prog rock band. But I came in somewhere in the middle, and while The Karelian Isthmus is still one of my favorite death metal albums ever (despite the bad drumming), I'm really an Elegy man, and Amorphis' recent "mainstream" prog-lite albums have held plenty of appeal for me although they occasionally veered into modern radio rock. So I was an easy sell for this, album number seven, the one where they slink back to a metal label after a run through the Virgin Records meat grinder and try to win back old fans by roughing it up a bit and going back to Finnish folk tales as lyrical fodder. A new singer is also in place, proving his abilities throughout by pulling off heavily-accented brooding goth metal vocals, blustery chorus hooks and full-on death growls with equal enthusiasm. The kickoff track is immediately distinguished by a peppy little prog keyboard line and a quick tempo, breaking with the Amorphis tradition of starting slow and trippy. But it's track number two, the single "House of Sleep", that's the first real revelation, an utterly infectious (and utterly Finnish) hybrid of Sentenced's latter-day gloom pop and classic Amorphis atmosphere. Its brilliantly tragic chorus and haunting keyboard solo recently drove "Sleep" straight to the top of the Finnish singles chart. From there, it's a reversion to folky intros and guttural bellows on "Leaves Scar," and the rest of the record follows suit with a host of strong riffs, rich textures and lots of small melodic moments that beg for repeat listens. I'll admit that some of the stuff on the last two Amorphis records was relatively bland, which I (and many others) assume was the product of these guys seeking wider fandom from loud rock fans who passively rely on what the mass media hands them. Well, fuck those clowns; they deserve hacks like HIM or Avenged Sevenfold. Eclipse is a step backward, a blatant channeling of the heady Elegy and Tuonela days, but it is ultimately more a return to "type" than a return to "form," since as good as these tracks are, they do not overflow with the unbridled passion and emotion that made those albums so beloved. But it's easily the strongest set they've released in a while, Holopainen and Koivusaari resigned to - but somehow liberated by - once again making an unabashed metal record. Now let's get them back over here for a headlining tour.

Bonus review: Dilated Peoples' 20/20. See ya soon, comrades.

Giving up for Lent

Last night, Opeth played at House of Blues. "An Evening With" Opeth. Long set, no openers, sold out weeks in advance. I was on the guest list and was actually parked on a street several blocks away from the venue prior to showtime. So why was I sitting on my ass at home while one of my favorite bands were playing minutes away from where I had previously been? Because I'm old.

The plan was to meet up with a comrade who lives downtown, then head to the venue and rock out. Of course, finding street parking downtown is ridiculous, and this being an area with which I'm completely unfamiliar, I got totally lost. But I found parking, dagnabbit. Then I had a dickens of a time finding my first destination, by which time I knew I would be late to the show and decided that I was tired. I would just skip Opeth, go home and cram more 1962-1964 Warhol into my head (for a current writing assignment). So I hung out with G for a bit, then went looking for my car, then drove around looking for the nearby expressway, and there you have it. What a fucking lame-o.

Honestly, I used to go out by myself to live shows all the time. I never thought anything of it; not many of my friends like the same music I do, nor are willing to get all riled up on a work night, nor can get into as many shows for free as I can. But around this time last year, I was hanging out frequently with a dazzling young lady who not only liked going to shows a lot, she was very knowledgable and opinionated about various types of music. Our tastes weren't identical, so it was good conversation and companionship. This lady could not understand how I could go to so many shows alone. Four months and two dumpings later, I started to agree with her. I started skipping shows I'd been looking forward to for months, using excuses like laziness, trying to save cash or missing having someone to pal around with. Other than the two fests I traveled to, I haven't been to any shows by myself since. I'm feeling very old these days.

And I am filling out another quiz, courtesy of my MySpace friend Jenny. So long, so easy to answer.

1. NAME ONE OF YOUR SCARS, HOW DID YOU GET IT !
Mervyn. I got it when I was trying to whittle in Cub Scout Day Camp and ended up jamming the knife blade between the index and middle finger knuckles on my left hand. A counselor ran me to the medical person with the knife still jiggling between the knuckles. Man, that sucker bled when they pulled it out.

2. WHAT IS ON THE WALLS IN YOUR ROOM?
Nothing yet, except paint and smoke residue.

3. WHAT DOES YOUR CELL PHONE LOOK LIKE?
A little silver cell phone.

4. WHAT MUSIC DO YOU LISTEN TO?
Lots. Yesterday's selections: Enforsaken, The Postal Service, Opeth, Anathema, Dälek, Prayer For Cleansing, Amorphis, Mos Def.

5. DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME YOU WERE BORN?
1o:35 a.m., I believe.

6. WHAT DO YOU WANT MORE THAN ANYTHING RIGHT NOW?
That answer is private.

7. WHAT DO YOU MISS?
"Sealab 2021."

8. DO YOU GET SCARED IN THE DARK?
Sometimes, but it's never because of the dark.

9. THE LAST PERSON TO MAKE YOU CRY?
A lady who has been too busy to talk to me... for roughly five years now.

10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE COLOGNE / PERFUME?
I think they pretty much all suck, especially when you go into an elevator and the stench is just hanging there. The aforementioned music-loving lady I dated last year had some pleasant stuff she got for free, but I don't know what it was called. That was OK.

11. WHAT KIND OF HAIR/EYE COLOR DO YOU LIKE ON THE OPPOSITE SEX?
Hair - like beer - the darker the better, and red's also pretty good. Eyes, no real preference in what they look like, rather what they convey.

12. COFFEE OR ENERGY DRINKS?
Coffee, but energy drinks are OK in some circumstances.

13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE PIZZA TOPPING?
Pepperoni and green pepper.

14. IF YOU CAN EAT ANYTHING RIGHT NOW, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
To quote the great Victor Sweet... oh, I won't do that. I'll say granola.

15. WHO IS THE LAST PERSON YOU MADE MAD?
Probably somebody at work.

16. DO YOU SPEAK ANOTHER LANGUAGE?
A minuscule amount of Spanish, some Polish swear words, a few Norwegian words typical of black metal song titles like "death," "snow" and "mountain."

17. WHAT WAS THE FIRST GIFT SOMEONE EVER GAVE YOU?
How should I know?

18. DO U LIKE SOMEONE?
Oh, I'm just wild 4 anyone who likes 2 spell like Prince!

19. ARE YOU DOUBLE JOINTED?
No.

20. FAVORITE CLOTHING BRAND?
Hahahahahaha!!!

21. WHAT'S YOUR DREAM CAR?
A Light Cycle.

22. WOULD YOU FALL IN LOVE KNOWING THAT THE PERSON IS LEAVING?
I guess, but only if the person doesn't intend to break things off without a discussion as soon as the leaving happens.

23. WHAT IS THE BEST WAY TO TELL SOMEONE HOW MUCH THEY MEAN TO YOU?
Let them know you're thinking about them.

24. SAY A NUMBER FROM ONE TO A HUNDRED:
47.

25. BLONDES OR BRUNETTES?
See number 11 - in the event of a tie, natural brunettes win.

26. WHAT IS THE ONE NUMBER YOU CALL OFTEN?
That's assuming I only call a single number often? Man, where did this quiz come from, Japan? My parents, I suppose, or The Wizard.

27. WHAT ANNOYS YOU MOST?
That is impossible to pin down, but poor communication is a big one for me.

28. HAVE YOU BEEN OUT OF THE U.S.?
Yes, I haven't had any in my pantry for years.

29. YOUR WEAKNESSES?
Good metal, good food, fake gore, cartoons, glamorous women with "issues."

30. FIRST JOB?
Bagging groceries and shagging carts at Dominick's Finer Foods.

31. EVER DONE A PRANK CALL?
Not in years. I always found screaming into the phone more amusing than trying to apply some sort of witty zinger.

32. WHAT WERE YOU DOING BEFORE YOU FILLED OUT THIS?
Finishing the "Six Feet Under" episode I started last night; sleeping before finishing.

33. IF YOU COULD GET PLASTIC SURGERY WHAT WOULD IT BE?
You know what would be cool? If I got my skull replaced with clear unbreakable plastic so you could see the brain squishing around. I would get that.

34. WHAT DO YOU GET COMPLIMENTED ABOUT MOST?
My thinning hair.

35. WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF ALCOHOL BECAME ILLEGAL?
Buy it on the black market once in a while.

36. WHAT DO YOU WANT FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY?
Food, folks and fun.

37. HOW MANY KIDS DO YOU WANT?
For dinner? One would suffice. To do my housework? One could do it if I didn't let it sleep.

38. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
My middle name is from two of my great-grandfathers.

39. DO YOU WISH ON STARS?
Not anymore.

40. WHICH FINGER[S] IS YOUR FAVORITE?
Badmotorfinger.

41. WHEN DID YOU LAST CRY?
Jesus. This quiz is definitely Japanese. I think it was like a month ago, I was watching "The Sea Inside."

42. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?
No.

42. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?
Shaved turkey breast.

43. ANY BAD HABITS?
Too many to list here.

44. WHAT IS YOUR MOST EMBARRASSING CD ON THE SHELF?
I am not embarrassed of any CD I own. Why would I own it? The concept of a guilty pleasure is foreign if you grow up liking music that is inherently uncool or otherwise disreputable.

45. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON, WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?
No, I'm a windbag and a weirdo.

46. HAVE YOU EVER TOLD A SECRET YOU SWORE NOT TO TELL?
Yes, but in my defense I can't recall doing it in a context where it would really matter.

47. DO LOOKS MATTER ?
Yes. Some people just look skeezy, and such self-presentation combined with skeezy speech and skeezy behavior is often a good indicator that those people are indeed skeezy.

48. HOW DO YOU RELEASE YOUR ANGER?
The Haunted's debut... by the time "Forensick" comes on, I'm usually pretty chill.

49. WHERE IS YOUR SECOND HOME?
My parents' house or Barry's couch.

50. DO YOU TRUST OTHERS EASILY?
Usually... unless they seem skeezy or have two first names.

51. WHAT WAS YOUR FAVORITE TOY AS A CHILD?
My Star Rider.

52. HOW MANY NUMBERS ARE IN YOUR CELL PHONE?
An even 50. I hope I never lose it, I will be screwed.

53. DO YOU USE SARCASM?
No, never.

54. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN A MOSH PIT?
Have I ever. I usually stand at the back of them now for better sight lines and breathing room, but occasionally get pushed in and have to battle my way out. It's all fun until the inevitable little sweaty dude with no shirt slimes me.

55. WHAT DO YOU LOOK FOR IN A GUY/GIRL?
Intelligence, wit, compassion, energy, ethics, interest.

56. WHAT ARE YOUR NICKNAMES?
Some like to call me El Jefe or Jefu, and my cousins used to call me "Diamonds" and "Rubies" alternately (I have no idea why), but I don't really have a formal nickname.

58. DO YOU UN-TIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?
Yes.

59. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR?
Moose Tracks... this was on another quiz.

60. WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE COLORS?
The secondaries (green/orange/purple), brown, grey and black.

61. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE BAND?
Of currently active bands, it's a tie between Katatonia and Blind Guardian, unless one of their new albums sucks (doubtful).

62. HOW MANY WISDOM TEETH DO YOU HAVE?
None. The bastards took them all.

63. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS?
No, not everyone has a computer.

64. WHO ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
Some terrible comedian on the TV in the other room. I'm going to turn that off right now.

65. LAST THING YOU ATE?
A coupla peanut butter cookies.

66. LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
I left a voice mail for Funk Dracula, who may want to listen to it.

67. WHAT'S THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ON THE OPPOSITE SEX?
Their head - face, hair, eyes, all that.

68. FAVORITE THOUGHT PROVOKING SONG:
"Clean Today" by Katatonia.

69. FAVORITE THING TO HATE:
"Hard music," "heavy rock," "active rock"... in other words, False Metal. The majority of "hard rock" you can hear on the radio.

70. FAVORITE DRINK:
Margaritas.

71. FAVORITE ZODIAC SIGN:
Sagittarius - it's a fucking centaur with a bow and arrow. Lions, bulls and virgins can't really compete.

72. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SPORT?
Rollerball.

73. WHAT IS YOUR HAIR COLOR?
Brown.

74. EYE COLOR?
Mine? Brown.

75. DO YOU WEAR GLASSES?
Sunglasses, when warranted. Not at night.

76. SIBLINGS?
None I know about.

77. FAVORITE MONTH?
October.

78. DO YOU LIKE SUSHI?
Yep, never had any I didn't (I'm sure it's out there).

79. LAST THING YOU WATCHED?
"Six Feet Under" episode 35.

80. FAVORITE DAY OF THE YEAR:
Oct. 31.

81. ARE YOU TOO SHY TO ASK SOMEONE OUT?
Yes, unless I really, really, really like them. I average about once every four or five years.

82. SUMMER OR WINTER?
Autumn.

83. KISSES OR HUGS?
Hugs rule. Kisses are better, but only from certain lips.

84. RELATIONSHIPS OR ONE NIGHT STANDS?
I'd prefer the former, not in the plural.

85. WHO IS THE MOST LIKELY TO ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS?
Me, right?

86. WHO IS THE LEAST LIKELY TO ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS?
Some kid in Nigeria whose family's land was destroyed by Shell.

87. BIGGEST FEAR?
Watching certain moments of personal history repeating themselves.

88. IS ANYONE IN LOVE WITH YOU?
In love? With me? I think at this point, I can safely answer no.