77 Wars

Well, this is just an update, because I am trying to shovel the trash out in my physical and virtual spaces. I was just going to delete this post, but then I looked up “safari sam’s” on google and actually found comments from people who were sad it closed. Well, you know what? I played records there 3 times for events in the late-night, early night, and then one brunch event and it fucking sucked. The mixer was a piece of junk, the turntables were fucked up, the sound was shit, and the bands were ALWAYS FUCKING TERRIBLE, every time I was there, TERRIBLE. They always said “Well, there’s no pay right now, but we’ll be paying DJ’s in the future, and we’ll hook you up with some drinks”. “Some drinks” turned out to be two measly drink tickets and they never bothered to offer any food to us.

You know why Safari Sam’s went out of business????? Because for every half-decent show they booked, they booked about 45 bands that sucked a big bag of ass and people who worked or played there generally told me that they felt like they got fucked. Of course kids are gonna miss an all-ages venue, but you know why it was all ages? Because they needed to have the most possible people showing up and didn’t want to exclude children from giving them their $5. And something that really annoyed the shit out of me was that I would get texts and e-mails from them asking if they could borrow equipment, like mixers or amps or needles for the tables… WTF? No way was I going to lend my stuff to someone who couldn’t even take a little care of any of their own stuff. And then I talked to one of the old managers and apparently good old Safari Man still owes a lot of those hourly people a lot of money that they’ll probably never see. If you want to know how to run a small, awesome, all-ages venue, then go talk to Jim down at The Smell. It might not be making anybody rich, and the bathroom might never look disease free, and “the smell” of feces might be wafting in from the alley, but I have a great time every time that I’m there and there is never a false promise of anything to come, you just get to see good bands for free or cheap and you can even grab an inexpensive snack from whatever home-made vendor shows up that night. I miss Safari Sam’s just as much as I miss kicking bums out of my old workplaces at 3 in the morning.

Well, the the post below is what I had written about one of the times I played records at Sam’s…

Continue Reading »

I just listened to all of the Shellac albums all the way through while packing boxes today. I’ve got to say that, for me, these records really pass the test of time. Before I put them on, I thought that maybe my current favorite album was “Excellent Italian Greyhound”, but after having listened to them all again it’s hard for me to say. I know that a lot of people aren’t the biggest fans of “At Action Park”, but I really enjoy it.

Anyways, I also listened to Boris’ “Rainbow” (The album they did with Kurihara) and it is far less awesome than I remember. I appreciate their style of being loose and heavy (not so much heavy in the sense of bordering on metal, but the bass and drums sound heavy)… but in the realm of psyche rock, I have to say I much prefer the tighter style of Dungen, who are so goddamned good at writing songs and generally rocking out.

There were some  Silver Jews records I was listening to as well, and I really loved and still love “American Water”, but I think my favorite album of theirs is currently “The Natural Bridge”. It just gets me. I really appreciate the words David Berman strings together and it’s so honky-tonkin fuckin good… Alright, well I’m about to listen to “Tanglewood Numbers” for the first time. I hadn’t purchased it yet and so I was about 2 or 3 albums behind, but I’ll be caught up soon! I’ll post my thoughts later, because that’s what we do now, instead of talking to each other and experiencing life, we blog and pretend that people actually give a flying shit what we talk about, when in reality no one does… and then we’re actually sad that no one ever reads this drivel…

I am excited that Shellac is gonna be in LA at the Echo next month and I got tickets to both shows!

Ahh… Spring is on it’s way and usually it’s nice to get a breath of fresh air. To feel a cleansing energy and a sense of renewal… But for me, I feel like I am inhaling stagnant, sulphur-filled lung fulls of pure feces.

This feeling will pass, but here’s the run-down on my bad mood:

1. The Dodgers signed Manny to a 2-year $45M deal this morning. Which is great on one hand, because we didn’t sign him to a 3rd or 4th year. But if this is our solution to improving our ballclub, I’m not really sure what the fuck is going on. Manny might not try. Manny is not a very good outfielder. Our pitching staff lost a lot of consistency and punch with Lowe and Tsaito taking off, and what did we do? We got Randy Wolf and Shawn Estes. Uhh, did anyone tell the Dodgers that their pitching staff was not so good in the first place? Our platoon of arms includes Jason “6 games pitched since 2007″ Schmidt. Considering the $47M, 3-year contract he signed 2 years ago, we have paid him $7,833,333 per game he has pitched.

Of course, we Dodger fans should feel lucky that FATFUCK JONES is gone. At $18M a year, Jones hit about, what was it? 3 home runs for us and was so fucking fat, he broke his knee, half-assing it (though, I guess half of HIS ass is still quite significant) across the outfield only to be too late to catch anything. Looking at this fat fucking whale out there made me angry. Combined with Jason Schit, we paid a combined $33M last year for a .153 Batting Average for Jones and no games pitched for Schit.

Why didn’t we go after Abreu and Dunn? It’s only February and I feel like I hate baseball already. The one thing we have going is that the NL West is so fucking horrible, that we can probably still win it with only 2 quality starters (Billingsley and 2nd year Kershaw), one big bat, and three solid on-base guys.

Did I mention that I hate baseball?

2.  The NHL trade deadline passed. I didn’t expect much to happen with the Kings. We have made solid progress, but faltered lately and look to be much less likely to secure a low playoff berth. A couple of things stuck out… why not claim Satan off waivers, get him for about $600,000 for the reat of the season without losing anything and maybe help push this team into a playoff berth where our young guys (including outstanding rookie Doughty, captain Brown, Frolov, Kopitar, O’Sullivan, Johnson, Quick, etc…)could see the post-season for the first time. JUST SIMPLY to taste it, to savor in the excitement. To expect better… There were a number of guys on waivers that could have contributed something, only cost us half their salray on the remaining 20 games, and then been gone to free agency come summer, in time for us to make our next moves. I am excited that my team has come so far in so short a time. But being a Kings fan for 20 years, repeating my annual springtime mantra of  “next year ” does always manage to sting. I love my Kings, I do, and I am proud of our progress.

This just in… O’Sullivan traded for Justin Williams. Not sure how I feel about it yet. Though Williams has won a cup and played in 42 playoff games… maybe he can be a solid veteran mentor and is only 27 (3 years older than sully). They are both under contract for 2 more years, with O’Sullivan making $2.8M and Williams $3.5M. O’Sullivan was not one to help motivate and was a bit whiny last season. Maybe this guy can help light a fire under our guys. We’ll see soon enough.

3. The Lakers. Dominant. Even after losing to two shitty teams on the road they look outstanding and built solidly for a run at the title. But this is the thing… I don’t really fucking care. I like watching the playoffs, but for me, let’s use this analogy…  Hockey is my favorite sport hands down. Watching the NHL for me is like hanging out with my best friends, drinking some good beers and having a nice medium-rare steak cooked to perfection. Baseball to me is like hanging out with my best friends, drinking some good, but slightly cheaper beers and eating some bratwurst. NFL to me is exciting, but definitely 3rd on the list and it HAS to be an interesting matchup. Basketball to me is like hanging with some alright guys from work who I don’t know very well, drinking some shitty beers and eating a pre-packaged sandwich.So, hooray for Civic Pride. I love Los Angeles, I was born here, I hate the Angels and I can’t stand the fucking Ducks. I love my city… I DO NOT want to die here, but I love it.

Though, on a another positive note, I still have use of all four of my limbs, I have 2.5 jobs in a completely screwed economy, and I like a ton of shit not related to sweaty, overpaid men. In fact, if my teams keep fucking up, it will free up time I spend reading about them for me to do things that actually matter. Thanks Dodgers! Thanks Kings!

Hockey is my first love and though I grew up in Los Angeles being a Kings fan, I still remain a loyal and loving fan of my team that hasn’t seen the post-season in 5 years, has an all-time post-season record of 55-94, and has only qualified 5 of the last 16 years. It has been a painful journey at times… I went from loving Wayne Gretzky, to hating him for a few years, and then back to good terms as the never say die coach of a horrible desert team torn from the loving hands of Manitoba.
I witnessed, in person, Luc Robitaille score his 499th and 500th goals in a game vs. Buffalo at the  Great Western Forum. I was there when Luc played his last home game… and just like in 1986 when I saw Transformers: The Movie and my hero Optimus Prime died, I found myself in a crowd of my peers crying for the loss of something I couldn’t really describe.
I met Dave Taylor when I walked up to the press booth (it was in the stands back then) at the Forum, he was sitting there and appeared to be making some notes. My friend and I walked up and I said, “Mr. Taylor, are we interrupting you?” he laughed and said we weren’t. I asked him if he’d mind signing our ticket stubs and he also signed the sleeve of my Robitaille jersey. Then, on his way out of the section, when we were on our way to the concession, we saw him and asked if he’d mind taking a picture with us. That stub and photo are in a frame on my wall, on display until the day I die.

I met Jimmy Fox during the ‘94 lock-out, I was sitting on a low brick wall in front of the Starbucks in Manhattan Beach and out he comes with his coffee… I felt like a little kid (Well, I guess I was only 17 at the time), I said “Hey, you’re Jim Fox!” and though he looked pretty down at first, he perked right up. He had this huge beard and had looked pretty dejected, I remember thinking, wow, this guy misses hockey even more than I do, I could just see it all over his face. So we started talking about the lock-out, how frustrating the whole thing was and how it had seemed to be such an extremely long time since we had seen a game… we talked for what must have been 20 minutes and the whole time he seemed just as excited to be talking to me as I was to him. I couldn’t believe it, this guy who I loved to see sitting next to Bob Miller on TV, talking to me about my team, talking about hockey… And then a few weeks later (Game On!) after the lockout ended and the season had resumed, I saw him again and he was clean shaven and glowing… the man seemed to be floating on air. We said hello, and had a brief exchange about how grateful we were to have the greatest sport in the world back. I really thought Jim Fox was a great guy on TV, but he’s also a true ambassador of the sport, a real 1st class guy and I still love watching him talk about my team and I hope he never stops… he’s my hockey Vin Scully (no offense Bob Miller, I love you too).
And of course, Vin Scully brings me a little closer to my literal home… I live about a 7 minute walk from Dodger stadium. I liked baseball for a while, but it wasn’t until about 5 years ago, when I moved into Echo Park, that I truly fell in love with Dodgers baseball.
My first real memory of the Dodgers was when I was sitting in a restaurant with my parents, in San Diego of all places, and the game was on loudly over some kind of bar and when Kirk Gibson blasted that shot into history, the whole place went crazy and though my family pretty much hated sports, we got caught up in it and they replayed that home run, I don’t know, it seemed like 50 times… my folks pretended to be impressed. When I moved into the same zip code as the Boys in Blue, I was jazzed about it… I mean, here I was, so close to Dodger Stadium that I could hear the crowd cheering when someone hit one out… I could hear, with my bedroom window open, the sounds of people leaving the stadium… hooting and hollering and drunk, honking their horns, especially after a victory. I could hear fireworks on those nights during the summer when they had them after games… I was intoxicated by it.
I got to know my local bartenders, especially at The Short Stop (the “Dodger bar” where no Dodgers ever seem to go)… I started to get offered, as I do to this day, free tickets from them and sometimes those tickets are field boxes… and as we speak (so to say) my guys have a 3 1/2 game lead on the snakes for the Division lead after seeming to be “fading into oblivion” about two weeks ago before winning 11 of 12. Two weeks ago I watched, sitting about 60 feet away from third base, as Manny Ramirez sailed a ball about 20 feet wide of a grand slam…
I took my girlfriends father and family and our best friend to Dodger Stadium field for Father’s Day catch this past June and I’ve made sure to be there for my Joe Torre and Takashi Saito bobbleheads. A Joe Torre bobblehead! I mean, yes, a Joe Torre bobblehead, as manager of the Dodgers, here in my living room, bobbling his head at me. I had a meeting to go to with my girlfriend the night of the Saito bobblehead… but I made sure to walk up to the stadium, get MY bobblehead and walk home… I was not going to go without… I might have missed the game, but my $10 was well spent nonetheless…
I was there in 2004 to see Steve Finley hit a walk-off grand slam against the [expletive] Giants in the last inning of the last game of the season. A game that determined the winner of the NL West, a game led by the Giants 3 to nothing entering the bottom of the ninth, a game whose winner would see it win the wild card with the soul-crushing benefit of sending their most bitter rivals, crumpled and useless, curled up on the floor, into the abyss of another wasted season. It’s almost unbelievable that we can occasionally get to be part of something like that… 56,000 screaming fans (well, not the guys wearing SF jerseys), drunk on beer and a seven-run 9th inning, hugging and taking pictures of each other, power brokers high-fiving Echo Park thugs, d-list actresses shaking big blue number one dodger fingers, my brother almost knocking me over…
Going back to the ice… I was present for another one of those moments. In 2001, I was about 200 feet away from the net in the wings end at the Staples Center, sitting next to my best friend Ben (who happens to be from Michigan), in overtime of Game 6. The Kings had lost the first two, but had come back to win the next three… and then with just under 5 minutes gone in the extra period Ziggy Palffy broke down the right side and fed Jozef Stumpel a pass that caromed off Chris Osgood’s skate and squirted out directly to Adam Deadmarsh. He buried that puck deep in Kings lore and I will never forget that moment. I stood up yelling and screaming and hugging whoever was near and then looked down to see Ben with his face in his hands… we had just done the unthinkable… we had just beaten the Wings in the playoffs.
And that pretty much catches us up to now… Will we see the freeway series happen? Ever? Could the Dodgers possibly beat the Angels? Of course there are heavy doubts on my boys winning even one post-season series (yes, it has been 20 years and we are 1-12 in the post-season since and those are GAMES not series’).
But while I may have many theories regarding theology, while I may not have a real faith in any sort of deity, and while I may not have jumped up and down at signing Andruw Jones to a $36.2M contract (I’m not sure Andruw Jones could even jump up and down if he wanted to), I have a true faith in my teams. And you might ask me why, but if you don’t understand the fanatical, probably maniacal, love of team sports, there is probably no reason for me to explain it to you. You might think it’s weird, or some crazy world I live in and all I can say is that it is crazy and it is weird. But, when it comes to the hope that us fans place in our team, when we feel the spirits of our guys pick up, and the crowd is trying to push them to score that last goal, that last run, and we know that if we can just stay in it, if we can stay mathematically alive, that there is a good chance that we can win, and here’s where it gets heavily into religious territory… We don’t know any of this stuff, we just believe.

don’t read this if you do not want to read something that alludes to plot lines and events in this book or film.

i recently read this book and then within a week or so i watched the film. i must say that i was impressed with what the coen brothers did with this story. it seemed like all of the images i had in my mind set right on top of what i watched in the film and there wasn’t much that didn’t fit. the one thing i disliked in the film was woody harrelson. i’ve liked him in other films, well, at least in natural born killers and kingpin (well, maybe i don’t like him that much, but i don’t hate him), but he seemed awkward, out of place and i feel it should have been someone a little more, uhh, serious i suppose.

the book made more sense when it came to what the story meant because of the interweaving of the sheriff’s journal entries, so if you like this kind of bleak shit, then go get the book and read it. it is worth your time and can probably be read in a day or two if you’ve got the time.

overall it seemed to me that mccarthy states here the nature of man. and that nature is destructive on one hand, but also can be sympathetic and, i want to say maternal. of course, death is a major theme and it’s inevitability seems to be a point as well. while the changing times catching up with a sleepy kind of desert and a more traditional mindset amongst the people is very obviously presented, it didn’t feel like that was why mccarthy was writing this story. maybe the character chigurh is just representative of man’s self-destructive nature and death and that no matter what you do to it, it will not ever stop.

i will most likely come back to this post and update as i think about it a little more, but i’m off to meet a friend for dinner and beer at a new place over on heliotrope. if it’s worth a damn, i’ll post something about it here. if you were into this film and/or book, i highly recommend that you read “the road” also by cormac mccarthy.

    seven and a half hours into an all-night IT shift and it is 630 in the morning. i am waiting for a few gigs of data to migrate to their new server. i’ve been listening to my bloody valentine’s “loveless” and mono’s “gone”. i suppose they are post-punk and post-rock respectively, but i often have a hard time pigeon-holing a group into one kind of convenient genre. besides, almost any music worth listening to is comprised of many elements from outside of whatever category they end up being filed under. also, i learned some basic permissions settings in unix tonight and i like how part of this command looks…  -R 777 . it’s cool because it is used to change permissions to allow full access by everyone.

these two records seemed incredibly well suited to play through the very early, dark morning hours. if you are reading this, most likely i know you and probably have no need at all to say anything much about my bloody valentine. if you haven’t heard “loveless”, go buy it, it is incredible and it’s one of those records that i wish i had been given in 1991 (slint’s spiderland is another one i’d go back in time and hand to my 14 year old self, not to mention i would also have to kick my own ass, while of course violating some sort of time-space law). it is kind of a beautiful wall of white noise and melodies, it is melancholy and hopeful and there is no fucking around. the album just starts off with energy and when you turn it over, the b-side gets right to work as well.

   mono is undoubtedly always going to be compared to explosions in the sky, but they just keep getting better. a bunch of japanese dudes from japan. if you know explosions in the sky and have seen friday night lights then perhaps you see how explosions is a great soundtrack for what actually turned out to be a pretty darned good movie even though it’s about high school football in texas. mono is better suited for a well made war film not directed by some scum sucking shit like michael bay. of course it works pretty well to just put the records on and listen to them. “gone” is a five-sider and pressed on some extremely beautiful, heavy vinyl with a really cool etching on side six. all of the songs were recorded between 2000-2007 and only one of them was not recorded by steve albini, so the engineering is damned sharp. these guys churn out a lot of guitar, but they use a wider array of instruments than explosions, who stick to drums/guitar/bass, though both bands use a lot of effects. mono also stays darker than explosions, who tend to not only have that quiet/loud dynamic throughout everything they write, but there is everything from bliss to oblivion present… and since i keep mentioning them, i’d advise you to take a listen to explosions in the sky’s “the earth is not a cold dead place”. both mono and explosions put on great live shows.

hey look at me! i have a website. i don’t even know what the fuck i’m talkng about. i can even mispell shit and totally ignore it.

the explosions site has one free mp3 when you go to the album.

on temporary residence limited

on creation records

also on temporary residence

so, i looked into the history of friday the 13th and it seems as though no real significant event brought it on. some have speculated that the destruction of the “knights templar”, which was initiated on october 13th, 1307, was the trigger, but the absence of any reference to “friday the 13th” for 600 years of history and the fact that it is a somewhat obscure event has pretty much shot that one down.

it seems that the negative association a lot of societies have with the number 13 are not from a solid source either. some speculate that since judah was the last to sit down at the last supper (making him the 13th guest at the table) made it an unlucky number among christians. the greeks consider the number 13 lucky, but only on it’s own. and because the unimaginable happened when constantinople fell to the turks on a tuesday, the greeks have believed since then that tuesday is the unluckiest day of the week and for some reason a tuesday the thirteenth is considered very unlucky in greek culture. there is a ton of this shit to sift through… but what it boils down to is this…

it’s fuckin’ bullshit. just like christmas, medicare and democracy. so get over it. you want unlucky? you know where we’ll all be in a hundred years? yep. dead.

happy friday the 13th.

oh yeah… check out this wired magazine look back to the blackout in new york on july 13th, 1977, when i was a wee six month old baby… http://www.wired.com/science/discoveries/multimedia/2007/07/gallery_dayintech_0713

 ok, so i’m not a big buffalo fan, but this is just an awesome hockey moment (or five minutes, whatever). it reminds of how great hockey can be and if you don’t get it, it’s ok, but for me, this kind of stuff makes the hair on my neck stand up. it’s one of my true loves and (as much as i love my dodgers that play about a half a mile from my home) the only sport that matters…

i wanted to turn it off before it was over but i couldn’t. there were two minutes left in the game with the ducks ahead 6-2 and there was still a little part of me that believed ottawa could do it. that they could score 4 goals in some kind of miracle. but even as that hope died and the clock started to tick off the last few seconds i kept watching.

i watched the bench clear and i watched all of the anaheim players pile on giguere and celebrate. i was surprised by my lack of emotion. in case you hadn’t noticed, i hate anaheim. i detest chris pronger and brad may the most for being such dirty players, but most of that line-up i have very little respect for. i also can’t tolerate the ducks’ fans and now this will make them more disgusting. they will talk about winning a cup and that is real and tangible.

it kind of feels like something broke in my brain, but watching the trophies handed out i think, somehow stopped me from being depressed. it just kind of made it definite. no questions. if i had turned it off, i’d still be thinking about it i suppose.

it had felt like the ducks winning would be the worst day of my life, but it’s not so bad right now. hockey is over and so for three months, i can breathe easy and not be distracted by sports too much and hope that the kings can get back to being a playoff team(though, i’ve become a pretty huge dodgers fan having grown up in l.a. my whole life and especially now that i’ve lived in walking distance of the stadium for the last four years). i can hope that we will sign a real goaltender and that we’ll sign some amazing, clutch goal scorer to a 5-year contract (please please please sign chris drury to our team dean lombardi), while picking up some more solid front-end support . i can hope that we solidify our already pretty good defense and hold on to all of our young prospects. i can wait for us to build through our farm system, but we’d better start seeing something smarter than signing dan ‘fucking piece of shit’ cloutier to a 2-year, 6.2 million dollar contract.

i can also hope that good things come from the 22 picks we have for this years and next year’s drafts.

i’m surprised. i thought that an anaheim championship would’ve been followed immediately by locusts and floods, but it looks like the worst we’ll have to suffer is from a bunch of fucking idiot ducks fans who don’t know shit about hockey thinking that they are special. but what can we say to them? they’re obviously too stupid to reason with. so they won a stanley cup. maybe some kind of congratulations are in order here, but you know what? fuck anaheim.

we search and dig and pray for delivery. we pay homage at our belt- or direct-drive altars. we attempt to rendezvous with our scrolls, sometimes at any cost, even if it means having them shipped from japan or france. and is it worth it?

you’re damned right it is.

in ways it is better and worse than being a junkie. of course, sometimes it feels exactly like what i would imagine being a junkie feels like. just over a month ago i came across sepultura’s album ‘chaos a.d.‘ at amoeba, it was a 180 gram re-issue from roadrunner records. i still have unpaid bills nagging me, but i had to spend the 20 bucks on that one, not knowing if i’d see it again. it has been one of my favorite records since high school and i hadn’t actually listened to it in a long time because my cd copy is pretty scratched up.

unlike a junkie, though, i brought it home and placed it with my other records and i didn’t listen to it until yesterday. in this way, it was a religious experience for me. i wasn’t feeling ready to listen to it, so i set it aside. and then yesterday with no particular reason or much excitement i unwrapped the record, cleaned my turntable, beat the dust out of my slipmat, carefully set the record on the platter, hit the start button and then gently put the needle down on the outside edge of the record. i just knew it was time… and that record sounded better than i had remembered.

my best friend, ben, will sit at home sometimes in his chair, smoking his hookah with a flavored tobacco, listening to records with his eyes closed. i spend time like this at home, meditating on the music, only listening and noting all of the individual sounds, sometimes hearing an instrument that i hadn’t noticed before in the background or doubling on a vocal. sometimes we hang out together and just listen to records.

occasionally i go out and i see some guy dj’ing on his ipods and i am completely put off. there is something so wrong about it to me. it’s just probably that at 30, i’m already old in a lot of ways. i’m probably going to get a new job next week and i kind of hate that i’m going to need to get one of those e-mail phones, some kind of blackberry or sidekick or something. to have to search and sweat to find a record is so gratifying to me. when i see a guy putting on a record, i know that it’s pretty much certain that he really gives a shit about that record. when some other guy pushes a button to play a track he might not even know the name of, it just doesn’t inspire me to listen (not to mention the compression issue).

as is the case, i imagine, amongst jesus’ faithful and the junkies, there is usually a sense of brotherhood. vinyl collectors share an uncommon passion for music, even when they like really shitty music. when i find a certain record, sometimes i have to call up ben or jason to tell them or i’ll ask if they want me to pick up this copy of something i thought they were looking for. and it feels great to be walking down the street and answer my phone and hear ben tell me that he ordered 2 copies of the new sunn/boris lp from southern lord records, one for me, because he was sure that i’d want to buy one.

last night, my friend jason and i were out playing records at this bar in downtown. sometimes he’ll play a record, let’s just say the kinks, and then i’ll play a van halen cover of a kinks song. or we’ll try to play records from the same producer or bands that share members or have a similar name. and you gotta look at the record, see how much time you have and then find the next one to play… thinking, maybe of the theme you were working on or a song that has the same drum beat but you just can’t remember what band it is. it’s these types of things that digital dj’s don’t seem to have going on. maybe i hate it because i just can’t imagine having any fun playing between two ipods.

but looking through all three or four thousand records in the rock section at amoeba? that i can do. err, have done. and it’s great.

anyways, i’m typing into an online publishing program as i rant about hating new technology. but, fuck it, i can embrace and hate it all at the same time. now… i’m gonna go put that sepultura record on again.