Monday, February 11, 2008

We Are the Sproket Holes vol. 16

No Country for Old Men - 10/10


from IMDB;
Anton Chigurh is an emotionless, compassionless killing machine. His inability to comprehend human life is matched only by his ability to take it, as he does with ruthless abandon throughout the running of No Country For Old Men. Hired to track down drug money by a group of Americans, he quickly kills those who hired him and begins to search for the money on his own. He carries a cattlegun, which fires a cylinder from a hose which is connected to a tank of compressed air to destroy cylinder locks and dispatch a host of victims. He also carries a silenced assault shotgun.

Javeir Bardem is Nihilism Incarnate as Anton Chigurh in No Country for Old Men, the best film the Cohen Brothers have done since Fargo, and certainly the most ruthless since their debut Blood Simple. the whole film exudes the kind of beauty and charm one can only obtain by being dead to the world. Every performance is solid, but this is Bardem's film all the way. This is a villain, ladies and gentlemen. no "staring through the top of my eyelids" posturing or bass-driven slo-mo moments or self consciously deadpan one-liners designed to consistently remind the audience that "HEY THIS IS THE BAD GUY". Bardem's performance is so unnervingly otherworldy that one has to wonder where he ends and Chigurh begins...but no matter. if you want a more in-depth review; read Matt Cale's review @ Ruthless Reviews.

A+ all the way. and to the fat mall-going audience who dared to be disappointed with this film; you should be ashamed of yourselves, and you should be condemned to a life-time viewing of mediocre ass-grease like Fools Gold (though i'm sure that is Heaven on Earth to a bunch of slack-jawed simps like yourself, so perhaps that should be amended). This is no fairy tale. This is no valentine. Stick w/ Meet the Spartans, you pathetic little abortions.

Song for the Week of 2/11/08

DIAMANDA GALAS - "Let My People Go"



The devil has designed my death
And is waiting to be sure
Plenty of his black sheep die
Before he finds a cure

Oh Lord Jesus
Do you think I served my time?
The eight legs of the devil now
Are crawling up my spine

The firm hand
Of the devil now
Is rocking me to sleep
I force my blind eyes open Lord
But I'm sinking in the deep

Oh Lord Jesus
Do you think I served my time?
The eight legs of the devil now
Are crawling up my spine

I go to sleep each evening now
Dreaming of the grave
I see the friends I used to know
Crawling up my leg

Oh Lord Jesus
Do you think I served my time?
The eight legs of the devil now
Are crawling up my spine

Oh Lord Jesus
Do you think I served my time?
The eight legs of the devil now
Are crawling up my spine

Oh Lord Jesus
Here's the news from the new from below
The eight legs of the devil will not
Let my people go

Saturday, February 9, 2008

Double You, Tea F. vol. 20

Dillinger Escape Plan then;



Dillinger Escape Plan now

seriously....WHAT THE FUCK. I'll take the Deadguy/Creation is Crucifixion rip-off over the Velvet Revolver/Incubus rip off, thank you.

Just Needed to Share Vol. 9

Taylor Dayne = Nature's Fergie.

Just Needed to Share.

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Just Needed to Share vol. 8

seriously. Fuck You ALL.

You miserable twits. you selfish animals. you voyeuristic masochistic materialistic scum. you myopic trolls.

you who vote against your interest. you who are anti-intellectual. you who suppresses and dismisses anyone who might clash with or disrupt the "status quo". you who has let yourself believe that you need them when they need you. You who won't let go. You who has given up. You whose entire belief system is based on referencing precedents rather than breaking new ground. you who made it nearly impossible to exist outside of trends. outside of fashion. outside of the mainstream. you who equates marginal with pornography. you who destroyed the underground. you who made it so those with talent can't live without bland dayjobs. you who are defeatist. you who are defeated. you who live a lifestyle because you "can".

you're the reason the internet is so full of venom and cynicism. this is the last place where we can spew our bile freely. even so, we still have the lurkers...the watchers...the professional appreciators. the loose-brained subterraneans who don't seem to care for most things. There is no where for us to go anymore.

in a perfect world this would be my source of income. it's the only fucking thing i am good at. being miserable. writing about it. yelling it. making something out of it. that's not grounds enough for worth in this President Shit-For-Brains world we live in, so i have to cover up. slip on the skin of Smiley Gladhands. Pretend car commercials aren't full of shit. pretend American Light Beers are the way to go. Pretend Fergie's face doesn't look like the baboon that was mutilated from going through the transporter pods in Cronenberg's the Fly. Pretend Dane Cook isn't the Chernobyl of Stand-Up. Pretend i care about video games and reality television. Pretend Green Day is important. Pretend that we're not all goners. Pretend George Carlin isn't right about everything. Pretend that talent is measured in sales.

Fuck this. it's 3:20 am on a Tuesday. my Cephalic Carnage vinyl didn't sell despite 3 people fucking "watching" it (here's a hint...DO NO WATCH SOMETHING IF YOU HAVE NO INTENTION OF BUYING IT YOU GODDAMN CUNT CANNONS). I have nothing on the horizon but band practice, time with my girlfriend, and Diamanda Galas next week.

guess things could be worse.

Just needed to share.

Double You, Tea F. vol. 19


































and for VALENTINES DAY;








Monday, February 4, 2008

Song for the week of 2/4/08

FLAMING FIRE - "Kill the Right People"



"Kentucky Shroud")
I was in the Civil War
Rode an ostrich at Gettysburg
Got my face peeled off by Scalphunter
Now I’m just a skull with a sixshooter
I love a naked woman!
Ridin’ through the streets of Camaro
She’s got sexy vampire powers
And goblets of rainbows, sweet goblets of rainbows

CHORUS: Yeah, and I know what’s right
You’ve got kill the right people
No, you can’t mess that up
You’ve gotta kill the the right people
Everyone body sitting down, stand up!
And kill the right people
Lend a hand, lend a killing hand
And kill the right people

I like to party with Jesuits
Missionaries to a gaseous dimension
Casting demons out of helium
Saving the souls of the mercurial mob
Just want to get back with that naked woman I love
It’s hard fucking work killing the damned
And damning the dead, that’s what I said