JB Summer Mix-Tape

In commemoration of our 20-thousandth visitor (since we started counting!), here is my suggestion for a mix-tape that you can blast at 90 db to the concern and disgust of your neighbors. It starts off punky and raw but eventually settles down into an indie-rock anthem sort of speed, before winking out like a votive candle in a wind tunnel with a couple of plaintive acoustic tunes. You can find most of these songs on the web or in your favourite filesharing app. Good luck, and godspeed!

~~~

1. Causey Way - Jesus Loves You: Lo-fi new-wavish punk rock by the now-defunct Causey Way band. The Causey Way were a self-admitted cult, although it was more of a marketing thing than a Jim-Jones Kool-Aid thing.



2. Eric's Trip - Eyes Shut: Moncton's Best Band Ever were short on the details but their sound is authentic enough that you can still hear it if you stand on the right part of Magnetic Hill at night and you're drunk enough to see things in double.
   
   
3. Turbonegro - Denim Demon: Who says that homoerotic imagery and hardcore punk guitar won't go to the same dance arm in arm? Norwegian death-punk band Turbonegro wear sailor caps for a reason. Who knows? Maybe you could be their next cabin boy when the ship goes down.



4. Iggy Pop & the Stooges - Search and Destroy: The opening riff is so cruel and beautiful that it reminds me of a wicked stepmother, frumpy and old but armed with a violent right hook.
   
   
5. And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead - Heart in the Hand of the Matter: No need to explain...witness the first lyrics: "Ride the apocalypse / Coming through the city side / fallen angel / there is no need to hide." Excellent guitar work and great vocal gymnastics, despite the singer's relatively humble range.



6. TV On the Radio - Satellite: Check out the trippy atmospheric effect used on the guitar (phaser?) when it cuts through the drone of the keyboards. These Brooklyn boys will go places, if there is any justice at all in this One-size-fits-all, cookie cutter world.



7. The Unicorns - Jellybones: I wore this one out, personally, but only after close to a thousand listens while high on jelly beans. Jangly and awkward, like all of us back in Grade 7. Too bad they broke up as a band because their sound makes the Fiery Furnaces seem quaint and classical.
   
   
8. Wolf Parade - Sons and Daughters of Hungry Ghosts: If David Bowie was born in 1976, he would probably sound a lot like Dan Boeckner, lead singer of Wolf Parade. They have a miraculous live show and this cut off their self-titled EP still gets the hair on my back to stand up like a Liberal MP in the House of Commons.



9. The Arcade Fire - Neighborhood #2 (Laika): Harmonics ring out, accordion saunters in and schmoozes the drums sitting at the bar. Win sings in that wavering, perfect way (which critics obsess over and often compare to David Byrne) about his brother Alexander. The AF love to write a narrative in their lyrics and that is why I would follow them to the ends of the flat earth.
   
   
10. The Shins - New Slang: Sub Pop still knows how to pick 'em. The Shins mine that volcanic rock for ferrous metals and walk out of the shaft with gold dust in their hair every time. Great song to burn a spliff to while sitting on your front porch with some close friends.



11. Elliott Smith - St. Ide's Heaven: This lost soul with a knife in his heart left us with some great music and St. Ide's Heaven has a breathtaking chorus, complete with the inevitable drug reference and poetic imagery. Warning: Do not listen to Smith if you are A) a tragic, sentimental romantic B) a suicidal artist with a history of self-destruction.



12. Bright Eyes - Lua: Conor Oberst may have been panned by the critics on his last acoustic album but this song cannot be defeated by the pen, nor by the sword. Oberst makes it OK to be drunk in the middle of the day when regular folks are being healthy and happy in their hamster-wheel existences.

"New Slang" by JB

Music can have piercing beauty
Truly-made songs urge me
to pop my own ballon
and let the air whooosh out
from my lungs one last time

Of course, I won't.
That would mean no new songs
I hear tunes everywhere
~in the footfalls on a long hallway
~in the whirring spin of a ceiling fan
~in the heavy breath of my lover
~in the hum of an engine
Can You listen?
Will You?
The best songs
are pure blackmail
They take your heart hostage
and the best hearts write songs.

~~~
I wrote that poem when I had the Shins song "New Slang" trapped in my head, sailing round and round like some sort of sloop on the waves of my own awareness. My words pale in comparison to the greatness of this song. Here are the lyrics, republished so that you can understand where I was coming from. Download the song somewhere or buy the CD if you're blinging. Also, you can visit their website to see the video for free.
~~~

"New Slang"

Gold teeth and a curse for this town were all in my mouth.
Only, i don't know how they got out, dear.
Turn me back into the pet that i was when we met.
I was happier then with no mind-set.

And if you'd 'a took to me like
A gull takes to the wind.
Well, i'd 'a jumped from my tree
And i'd a danced like the king of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.

New slang when you notice the stripes, the dirt in your fries.
Hope it's right when you die, old and bony.
Dawn breaks like a bull through the hall,
Never should have called
But my head's to the wall and i'm lonely.

And if you'd 'a took to me like
A gull takes to the wind.
Well, i'd 'a jumped from my tree
And i'd a danced like the kind of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.

God speed all the bakers at dawn may they all cut their thumbs,
And bleed into their buns 'till they melt away.

I'm looking in on the good life i might be doomed never to find.
Without a trust or flaming fields am i too dumb to refine?
And if you'd 'a took to me like
Well i'd a danced like the queen of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.

"I've Learned" by JB

that God exists but he's a stand-up comedian
He tapped the mic and said
"Is this thing on?"
And told a number of jokes
infinite sick twisted little riddles
He made us all bland billiard balls
just bouncing off each other
and making noises

God has a cruel sense of humour
He laughs at the babies
born with AIDS because
of the diseases he planted in the earth
And civilian casualties
(especially genocides) make Him
Crack Up

We do have optimism
and hope
and dreams of kinetic energy
moving us on High
or protecting us from each other
Can secular save our souls?
Do we need an independent
observer giggling in the crowd?

I can't forget to mention
that I have learned
to love it all
I must reap
the seeds I drop
and I must forgive
me for being

I fear
stormtrooper silhouettes
bombs
parapets
cancer
tainted food
racists
blackmail
automobiles
insects
and true love

I long for lounging with She
but I'm strapped to a bench
and electrodes are crazy-glued
to my hairless temples
My skin is white
Nails down to their roots
Foolish stubble on my chin
I have a sick grin on my face
It's like I'm God
but I'm not laughing

I'll venture on alone
The piano will lilt
me to happy
caverns of thought
I am sorry
that I left you all
in the deep end
I can't pummel mountains

Love leaps through all time
at once
You never left a lover
we're all still together
then.

J-School Devours Our Proud Narrator and Chews Him Into Paste

May 10, 2005

ID: *******
Jeremy Brendan
**** Monkland
Montreal, Quebec
H** 1**
jeremybrendan@gmail.com

Dear Jeremy,

I am writing to advise you that due to your unsatisfactory performance in your Journalism courses this year you will not be permitted to register for any further courses in this department.

If you wish to continue in Journalism Studies, you will have to re-apply for admission for the 2006-2007 academic year.

Sincerely,
Enn Raudsepp, PhD
Director
Journalism Department
Concordia University

c.c. Roberto Chen-Rangel, Academic Counsellor

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Mr. Raudsepp,

Thank you for the prompt correspondence. I wonder if you could pass J-School while being homeless? It would be very interesting to see but I'm sure you'd give it the old college try.

I will take a year of History in the Fall, and if possible, I will re-apply for admission in 2006-2007 (if your department is willing to give me a second chance).

Cheers & Have a Great Summer.
Jeremy Brendan


~~~
"When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro."
-Hunter S. Thompson

"Dancer's Lament" by JB & Kirk

This poem is a collaborative effort, the other scribe being my mystic philosopher of a pal Kirk. I wanted it to zig and zag -- please let me know what you think of it.
JB.

***

I haven't read Carlos
but I'm willing to dance and spin
The Whirl of a worthy world
That yet beckons once again
As She's clothed in the finest silk
Her rings are sparkles under so many suns
That my shadow-casting time-piece
Is a hurricane of light
My eyes blink on command
and I wonder whether predators pray?
Only that the acid-less rain will
Fall on the umbrella-less
My soul is waiting for a bus
and my heart is short 50 cents for cab fare
Funny 'cause I gots dollahs worth of two-cents
Mind-funk girth-less solicitudes to spare
When The End is ready to fuck
I will let her mount me and take what she needs
As Her eyes are lasers tearing me to pieces hard to read
And very puzzling to see her put me back to place
My affection for this realm is boundless
Bless you all with UnGod's truth
My hat is off and it's lying beside my boots
I'll sleep for dreams of forever.

2005.

"Claws" by JB

So she's got claws
and they're out, apparently
I had no idea
My back hasn't been scratched
in ages

Sometimes a smile
is all you need to convince
the general public
that you're a normal person
while shopping

I planted the rose
The Vodka is in my closet
It will be emptied
sooner or later (sooner)
When the next cat comes to sleep

"Yelp" by JB

I'm awash in all sorts of advice
from everyone who owns a tongue
They mean well
& don't realize that my pen leaked in my pocket
My cords are ruined forever
The fabric of my song
is so wrong
I slip slip slip
into a lazy sleep
Obscurity killed this cat
Too much sloth, not enough cheetah
No posts, no Holy Ghosts
nothing to save me from me
The barricade is tall
and well-equipped
We have lanterns in here
and enough food to last for weeks
A pile of newspapers is smoldering
in the tepid air of midday
Journalism is all ashes now
and fading fainting stuttering speeches
that once meant something
I'd rather chew buttons
than go down on one knee
to court the favour of the King

My heart feels ancient
as if I stole it from St-Joseph's
Distracted the guard
Just reached into the case and
pulled out that gamey thing
to replace mine (it's fucked)
I can feel the lost hours
and painted walls of paranoid splendour
Manic movements of a misunderstood fucker
Wants to be a saint
but he can't stop sinning
it's in his dirty warm blood

I saw Hollywood today at my bank.
He was withdrawing some hard-earned cash
Months ago, I had my guitar on my shoulder
Hollywood called to me in his pleasant drawl
Hey, Banjoman!
Gimme some coin or I'll pimp your azz on tha street!
I had nothing to give him.

Understanding why we live
is more than living
Loving everyone
is more than being loved

I wish I could sing you all to sleep
and it would be nice
to get a card or two this holiday season

For now, I'll linger with
Kurt and Elliott and Layne
or at least the minstrel-mish-mash
they left me with
and I'll keep my chin up
high high high
My eyes will sink
like flotsam
or is it jetsam?
I'll make pretty foam pictures

I've been accused of being
-self-referential
-a bad influence
-ornery
-creative
-completely depraved
Can you guess which I prefer?

This random nonsense
is worth more than a glance
It's not Ginsberg
but it's not CSI Miami either.
I have to yelp
before I can howl

Bright Eyes - "You Will. You? Will. You? Will."

You say that I treat you / like a book on a shelf
I don't take you out that often / because I know that I completed you
and that's why you are here / That's the reason why you stay here
How awful that must feel

You said you would be my dream / I could have you every night
and if, by morning, I'd forgotten you / well, no big deal, it would be alright

you're the reoccurring kind / You're the reoccurring kind
You never will leave my mind

Are you the love of my lifetime? / Because there have been times I've had my doubts. We were just kids when I first kissed you / in the attic of my parents house
and I wish we were there now / I took so long to figure out
What this book has been about

Now I write when I'm away / letters that you'll never read
You said go explore those other women / the geography of their bodies
but there's just one map you'll need / You're a boomerang you'll see
You will return to me

You will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will. You? Will.

Because if you don't, then this book is all lies
If you don't, then my plans would all be ruined
If you don't, I'll start drinking like the way I drank before
And I just wont have a future anymore.

Are we boomerangs? I truly hope so.

"Ends" by JB

Have you ever seen a screen through liquid lenses
as you dissolve like alka-seltzer in a cup?
I've been there so you don't have to.
I'm exploring the vile empty

Most of the folks I know are lost
or wicked.
Some are friendly, drunken elves
that inhabit sunny barroom clearings.
Others are too broken to be repaired.
I would cut my arms if it made them whole
but my blade is dull and boring.
I've never seen the East.
I don't come with a lovely carrying case
or a gift certificate.
I'm so open
that I can't be closed
and that is seen as a weakness.
I'm the man of the future.
My sobs are defiant
and I'm proud to be a fucking sad drunk.

I've been dreaming bitter, tasteless things lately
Being high in front of my parents.
Hating the fruit on my branches.
Apples with worms hiding in there.

Live Rock Show! The Impalers, The Dissonants, Rance Mulnix, Bedbox, A Still Life Depiction of Momentum, Seven Swans: of Silver City, Barfly, $3.

Turbonegro Coming As Quickly As Possible

Turbonegro, Norway's fabulous deathpunk funboys, are back on the road spreading their mischief (and most probably their buttcheeks, sailor!). They are not to be missed. Europeans beware! The tour coincides with a CD launch for their upcoming album "Party Animals" on May 9th.

~~~

23-Apr Germany, Hamburg, Grosse Freiheit
10-May Sweden, Stockholm, Nalen
12-May Germany, Berlin, Huxleys
13-May Germany, Leipzig, Haus Aunsee
14-May Germany, Muenster, Joevel
15-May Germany, Wiesbaden, Schlachthof
16-May Germany, Munich, George Elser Halle
18-May Netherlands, Amsterdam, Paradiso
19-May UK, London, Islington Academy
20-May UK, Leeds, Cockpit
21-May UK, Morcambe, Wasted Festival (http://www.holidaysinthesun.net)
26-May Austria, Vienna ,Aerodrome Festival
27-May Spain, Madrid, Festimad Festival
28-May Portugal, Lisaboa, Super bock Festival
30-July Sweden, Östersund, Storsjöyran

Check out a video of Turbonegro playing their hit song "Denim Demon"!
(courtesy of TurbojugendUSA.com)

America, Land of Bombs & Money

"Easter is the victory of light over darkness. In this season of renewal, we remember that hope leads us closer to truth, and that in the end, even death itself will be defeated. That is the promise of Easter morning."
U.S. President George W. Bush, National radio address on Saturday, March 26th. (CNN)

Yes, Pres. Bush. Death will be defeated by praying to Jesus. Perhaps the thousands of marines in Iraq can say hail marys as their unarmoured humvees get shot at by stray AK-47 and RPG fire.

When 16-year old Jeff Weise decided to shoot up his school, he was taking the path of violence and destruction that most of us would abhor. He should have joined the U.S. Army. That way, he could have killed as many "insurgents" as he wanted without risking a murder charge.

"A senior (U.S.) Army legal official acknowledged that the Iraqi colonel had at one point been lifted to his feet by a baton held to his throat, and that that action had caused a throat injury that contributed to his death.

The Army accounting said the Special Forces Command had determined that the use of force had been lawful 'in response to repeated aggression and misconduct by the detainee.'

Despite recommendations by Army investigators, commanders have decided not to prosecute 17 American soldiers implicated in the deaths of three prisoners in Iraq and Afghanistan in 2003 and 2004, according to a new accounting released Friday by the Army."
"Pentagon Will Not Try 17 GI's Implicated in Prisoners' Deaths" (NYT)

Killing is wrong any way you look at it. When you're the most powerful nation on the earth, you have a moral duty to limit the spread of violence and the distribution of arms.

Instead, America is the biggest purveyor of weapons on the globe. Just days ago, they announced the sale of F-16 multi-purpose jet fighters to Pakistan, no doubt due to Pakistan's half-hearted attempts at catching Bin Laden, America's Emmanuel Goldstein. Never mind the fact that India has protested that this will only escalate tensions in the region.

If there is a point to all of this, America's establishment will recoil in horror when one of its own sons decides to pick up a rifle and begin killing his classmates, but they think it's just fine to spread violence elsewhere in the world by selling kill-machines and bombs to other nations. Don't they see the relation between having weapons and using them?

U.S., do us all a favour. Sign on to Kyoto, sign the Landmines ban, join the International Criminal Court, and stop thinking that you're some sort of empire. Your downhill slide is already apparent to many independent observers, anyhow. While you're at it, start teaching Mandarin or Japanese in your classrooms. They'll own you before the century is through.

Oh, and Happy Easter!

Hacking Up a Lung & Dissonants Gig

I've been busy as of late trying to retrieve the wreckage of Concordia Flight 2005 from the crash scene of my school year. I fucked around a lot and now I'm mathematically doubtful of passing several of my courses. It would be nice to be a part of the religious herd at this point so that I would have somebody to pray to. Being an agnostic, I've been secretly praying to Enn Rautsepp, the director (?) of Concordia's Journalism program.

Today, I have to go and cover some exposition on chocolate at McGill University. It begins in 43 minutes and my bacon isn't done frying on the stove. I predict that I will arrive late, start scribbling down any notes I can, and then dart towards the free samples of chocolate. I'm salivating just thinking of ripping through a sweet little piece of cocoa extract right now.

Later this week, I have some copy stories due for Radio class (deadline: Friday night) and a myriad pile of other work that has accumulated in the past few months. Rautsepp preserve me!

~~~

In other news, the Dissonants will be playing a gig at Reggie's Pub tomorrow (Thursday night). They want to punk you into a frenzy. Doors open at 7 PM, cover is a paltry $2, and there will be four terrific bands to stroke your musical muscles. Come one, come all!
##########
Thu - 03.24 Launie Anderssohn, The Dissonants, The Rothschilds, Coriander @ Reggie's Pub ($2) (7pm), 1455 De Maisonneuve (in Concordia's Hall Building!).
##########

"Wilding" by JB

I think that I've progressed, comparing this text to "All of You". I dropped the forced rhyming and just went with my gut.

"Wilding"
~~~
This is the most important instant of my life.
I am completely aware
of the dangers inherent in uttering such a thing
You could crush me like a beetle
My legs would twitch on
but I'd be dead, nonetheless

I'm holding out my hand
it's yours for the taking
If you lock me outside
I will have to curl up in a snowbank
I'm a vagabond even if I have a home.
I still piss in alleyways and eat table scraps

Give me what you can
I'll wait until there is peace in Israel
Like patient waves that reach for mountains
but only make it as far as the beach
My love has no expiry date
It will age like red wine
~~~


Ironically enough, I am indeed twitching but I'm hoping I'll get scooped off the street before any more sedans pass over me. I'm not broken. Lather, rinse, repeat. I'm not broken.

"All of You" by JB

Wrote this one a while back but never bothered to do anything with it. Poetry means something to me again because it's all I have left. I can't sleep, I barely eat; even alcohol has lost its woozy charm. I need to rely on words to get me through this turbulence, these nightmares I dream while I'm awake. Point is, this poem once inspired me to keep going way back when, so now I wanted to share it with you all.

I'd appreciate some criticism or commentary. It's a tad bit rough, so go easy on me, eh? Might even work as lyrics, I guess. [Ed. Note: Stick to something you're good at, like sleeping, or fooling people into thinking that you're some sort of bewildered idiot-savant. You're an actor, a stumbling, self-obsessed little fuck who thinks that because he has access to a keyboard and a couple of 4-dollar words, all of the sudden he's some sort of poet. Jeremy Brendan, you've always been a fraud & now your inflicting all of this miserable prose on the world. Shame. Shaaaame.]

"All of You"
~~~
I am alive for
this minute
for art and the
worlds in it
for love and the
infinite
for friends and readers of
English Lit
for truth and arguing with
the cynics
for people who like
being misfits
for the unknown hero lying to
be tragic
for the causality that is based
on magic

I love humanity
insanity
& vanity
in small doses
for lovers who twist
like red roses
for brown hair
and delicate poses
for winter
and red noses
I am alive and I thrive
because what's in me
is all of you
~~~

Don't listen to my editor. He's just hateful because I always get the last word.

First Annual "Spot JB Drunk" Contest

I am about to go and pawn some of my personal effects to fund the first annual "Spot JB Drunk" Contest. Yes, I am going out to drink like my liver is made of titanium, folks. It's 3:18 PM so the day is young.

The contest has two parts:

• Spot JB:
Participants must track down Jeremy Brendan and taunt him/buy him drinks/explain to him the mysteries of life and why it seems that women are puzzles made of broken glass, beautiful but capable of inflicting such intense pain.

• Stamina:
Once they have found JB, participants must go drink for drink with JB until somebody either passes out or gets sick. At that point, the contest is over and we all begin the hunt for drugs.

Everyone is welcome to attend! Bring your fat, swollen wallets and a sense of humour, because JB doesn't have either of those today. [Ed. Note: To give you all a hint, JB's usual haunts are Cock 'n Bull Pub, Brutopia, and Reggie's, although there is a strike at Concordia today so Reggie's is not a potential hangout.]

What contest would be complete without a prize? If you spot JB, you win at least one anecdote relating Hindu mythology with a musical instrument or maybe a corny joke. Also, JB can help you find whatever you need, ie. opium, ether, etc. If you can keep up with JB's drinking, you win his gratitude and the unadulterated respect of your peers (the drunken gang at whichever bar you happen to be at).

Looking forward to seeing you all out there! Cheers and vive la peine, l'amour est mort!

The Hunter Has Left the Building

[Ed. Note: Hunter S. Thompson died last night of a self-inflicted gunshot wound. Jeremy wrote the following last night but I was only able to post it today. His real-life alter-ego is trying to get it published in the Montreal Mirror but we can't guarantee they'll accept it. En attendant, here it is, unedited.]

It's getting damn close to 4 AM but I can't sleep right now. What I wouldn't do for a drug tonight, anything to get my mind out of this soul-sucking space. I can't believe that another one of my heroes has died; Doctor Gonzo is no more.

Hunter S. Thompson was once a writer, before he became a lab rat and singed his neurons into charcoal. Thompson was a barbarian in his early days, clanging his pen against the gates of the publishing world, trying to prove that electrified prose and quick wit could triumph over accuracy. The 50's was mostly a wasteland until he rolled up on his motorcycle, drugs in one hand and a gun in the other.

Thompson used a novelist's eye to get to the epicentre of the story, sometimes lying to get his point across. Many credit him with ushering in the style known as "New Journalism", a school now relegated to trashy mags like Vice or the occasional college rag. His detractors painted him as a fraud--nothing more than a celebrity-cum-writer who milked his reputation for all it was worth--to them, he was more a drugged-out gun nut than a literary figure.

Hunter was all of these things. More importantly, he set the journalists free. Why else would I be compelled to write that my hemorrhoids are really burning right now? His death makes my soul burn more than any pile ever could.

Often going by the pseudonym "Raoul Duke", Thompson showed the American Press that their "inverted pyramid" technique was just as boring as the missionary position they would employ on their wives once a week.

Thompson proved that colour and flair (along with a keen sense of what is right) can compensate for gaps in the narrative; ultimately, the truth will emerge even if it is submerged beneath a sea of falsity.

Hunter never did wipe out the "Pyramid crowd"; those dinosaurs will still walk the earth when we're all just bones and plastic beer cups. I don't know if we'll ever be rid of the type of people who work for Fox News.

It must be said that Thompson never did a journalism class. Hell, he probably would have choked on the endless fluff pieces that I and my fellow scribes are forced to ejaculate for our loveless Concordia professors. Hunter's whole career was based on a sham, after he convinced the U.S. Air Force that he was qualified to write, edit, and produce a newspaper.

Hunter was an exception.

Now, I'm left here with all these Rules and no Buzz with the walls closing in like lobster claws. Where is Wendy, my one and only, when I need her? Has the world gone mad?

Maybe the Canadian Air Force is hiring?

The Dissonants & The Casingles, Reggie's Pub, Fri. Feb. 18th, 9 PM, $5

As listed in the Montreal Mirror, don't miss the Dissonants & the Casingles show tomorrow night @ Reggie's Pub. (Friday, Feb. 18th @ 9 PM!) It will be bedlam, I tell you.

Note: This is not the real logo from Reggie's Pub but a visual aid was needed, so use your imagination.
The Dissonants have a prolific set planned to ease you into the "Reading Week" Holiday Spirit. The D's plan to play a handful of originals and some inspired covers (ie. Arcade Fire, Wolf Parade, Turbonegro). Their sound is hard to pigeonhole but probably lies somewhere between Dinosaur Jr. and Old-School punk. [Ed. Note: More like the unholy bastard child of Alexisonfire and Counting Crows! Despite this, I assure you that they will rock your casbah.]

After the Dissonants, headliners the Casingles will bring some of that voodoo garage punk that you all know and love. After the hysteria-inducing set they played a couple of Sundays ago at Cafe Chaos (accompanied by Manic Manon and the surprisingly excellent psychobilly band Flesh), expect them to put on a hell of a show tomorrow night.


[Ed. Note: Shaking Judy could not make it to the show because they were abducted by Space Raelians. Our hearts and prayers are going out to them (to Shaking Judy, not to the Raelians!)]

I am not usually one to agree with hacks like the New York Times but Montreal's burgeoning rock scene is home to a lot of impressive acts (ie. Arcade Fire, Wolf Parade, Launnie Andersohn, The Stills, The Unicorns, The Dears, etc.). Support your local scene!
~~~

The Dissonants, The Casingles, 9pm, $5
Feb 18, Reggie's Pub, Concordia U, 1455 de Maisonneuve W.
For more info: 848-7423 or 242-9840

The Ayatollah's Edicts & Whether Holding Hands is Permissible

I was reading an interesting article by Patrick Cockburn on Counterpunch Magazine (""Sistani's Vision for Iraq") and it lead me to Grand Ayatollah Ali al-Sistani's Official site.

Ayatollah al-Sistani is one of the key figures Iraq's Shi'ite community, a group that represents over 60 percent of the Iraqi population. In the January 30 election, the United Iraqi Alliance is claiming to have won a majority of the seats in Iraq's National Assembly. According to the Economist, the UIA "claims Grand Ayatollah Ali al-Sistani as its chief mentor."

A recount is underway in Iraq but if the preliminary results hold to be true, will the UIA (which some have described as fundamentalist) turn Iraq into another Iran? Ayatollah al-Sistani has not expressed an interest in running for public office, but will the UIA decide to bring in Sharia law or something similar?

Will America's attempt to inject democracy serum into an Iraq, bound by the chains of occupation, turn it into another fundamentalist Arab regime indifferent to American demands? [Ed. Note: JB, can you make these sentences any longer? This is amateurish bullshit. Get to the point.]

I decided to do a little digging and on al-Sistani's website, I found some startling revelations. Thanks to his very comprehensive FAQ page, here are the Grand Ayatollah's views on:

Suicide
"Question:Is suicide permissible in Islam?

Answer:It is not permissible.

Question:What does the Qur’an say about suicide?

Answer:Islam does not allow it in every circumstance."

Oral Sex
"Question:Is oral sex by husband or wife allowed?

Answer:It is permissible provided no liquid out swallowed."

Checking Out Some Guy
"Question:Which part of strange man’s body is it allowed for a woman to look at? Is it allowed to look at his breast? On the tv in the western countries its very oft, that the men show their bodies till the belly ?

Answer:Looking of a woman at a stranger’s (ajnabi) body is forbidden, if it is with lust and fear of falling in sin. It is not even permissible to look without that (lust and fear) also as a measure of obligatory precaution except for the parts of body which normally a man does not cover i.e. head, hand and ankles which a woman can look at if it is without lust and without fear of falling in sin."

Masturbation
"Question:If my wife wants me to masturbate in front of her, is it then allowed?

Answer:You are not allowed to do it with hand, but your wife is."

Friendship
"Question:I wanted to know about friendship norms in islam about females ?

Answer:Friendship with her is not permissible. Because in such friendship man is not immune from sin."

Backdoor Action
"Question: Is anal intercourse permissible.?

Answer:Permission is bound to wife’s agreement, but it is strongly undesirable."

Orgies
"Question:Is having an orgy permissible under the Qur’an?

Answer:It's forbidden."

Or Just Getting Acquainted
"Question:Are shaking of hands with girls allowed?

Answer:It is not permissible."

After reading al-Sistani's site, I've realized that I take a lot of my freedoms for granted.

I didn't quote his ultra-religious edicts to mock him in any way--I am equally disdainful of all religions--it's just that a party that sees him as its spiritual guide could very well win the Iraqi election and write a constitution that will absorb edicts like these.

Saddam was definately a brutal tyrant but he was still more of a secular leader than a religious one, mainly because his Sunni-led regime used secular policies to minimize the power of Shi'ite religious leaders. Now that the Shi'ites will be running the show in Iraqi, can they be relied upon to protect the rights of women? What about those of minorities like the Kurds, the Turkmen, or the Sunnis?

My heart of hearts hopes that there will be an end to the fighting between Iraqi versus Iraqi and the occupation will end by Bush's strained National Guardsmen and tired Marines. Then, you can bring the boys home, Mr. Bush. [Ed. Note: Tell them not to buy their tickets just yet. There's 20 or 30 thousand Iraqis running around with heavy weaponry looted from Saddam's weapons depots. JB, you are one deluded informer! The occupation will end the year we have a female President.B]

Oh, and just in case you were wondering:

"Question:I have a cat, and I heard that I couldn’t pray in clothing that have cat's hair. Is this true?

Answer: It does not make the prayer void.

Question:Praying in a condition that you have a leather wallet (bought from un Islamic country & unaware of the nature of leather) in your pocket is acceptable or not?

Answer:That is permissible and there is no objection in it."

Bush's 2006 Budget; "Just When You Thought Things Couldn't Get Any Worse!"

The Bush administration released their FY 2006 budget proposal on February 7th and I think that it truly proves that he is a compassionate conservative. The only downside is that his compassionate nature only extends to wealthy industrialists and other shady characters, the ones with the keys to the war machine.

Bush's sordid gang of looters are planning to invest the retirement savings of American workers into the stock market. As Lyndon Larouche pointed out, this economic plan was already tried out in Chile with disastrous effects for their population. Of course, this was under the Pinochet Regime and was pushed through at gunpoint; hopefully, the American public will have the good sense to rise up and demand that their representatives throw this idea out before it bankrupts their future.

While Bush seeks to reduce federal expenditures, he has no real means of doing so without cutting his bloated military budget. The War on Terror don't come cheap, eh Mr. Bush? Since 2001, the Bush Administration has raised "overall Defense spending by 41 percent." It is disheartening to see so much money available for bombs and unmanned attack vehicles but less to provide for health care or education.

The Bush budget has a couple of other doozies that stand out like erections on a crowded subway car. For example, Bush has slated "$100 million to fund competitive grants for States to develop innovative approaches to promote healthy marriages." Healthy marriages? Are they going to pay for Viagra or perhaps give each American married couple a free night at some swanky hotel? My instincts tell me no, that this is just a polite way of saying "if you can stop those queers from getting hitched, we'll toss you some coins!" Past experiences tell me that the term "healthy marriage" can't be bought with currency; it must be fought for, tooth and nail, by two loving partners, whether they be straight, gay, or just plain crazy.

U.S. federal spending on education should amount to $56 billion USD, a decrease of 1 percent compared to the FY 2005 budget. The Environmental Protection Agency will also feel the pain next year; their 2006 funding will decrease by 6 percent to $7.6 billion. Even with reductions in these departments, the U.S. will still have a $390 billion dollar deficit to contend with, and projected annual deficits of at least $200 billion or more over the next four years.

Bush is definately concerned about young people who fuck without getting married first. The proposed budget will "(provide) more than $206 million for abstinence-only activities this year." Paradoxically, these sort of "activities" haven't really worked in the past, as teen pregnancies and sexually transmitted diseases show no sign of disappearing across America. Neo-puritanism will never solve the issues of our time, no matter what the Religious Right's televangelists are preaching.

If there is a silver lining, it is for the Richie Rich jet-set club. The wealthiest Americans will enjoy the fruits of their lobbying and connections; they will save about $1 trillion USD over the next decade, money that could have gone to rebuild America's tumbling infrastructure or to uplift the needy. This will also exacerbate the ballooning national debt (an eye-popping $8.6 trillion USD, which is projected to rise to $11 trillion by 2010!).

Budgets like this one prove that when you put a blind man behind the wheel, you are sure to run into oncoming traffic. Fifty years from now, Americans will spit whenever somebody mentions the name George W. Bush. He makes "Tricky Dick" Nixon look like Ghandi. George Dubya's "faith-based" leadership is just that; he believes that his disjointed economic policies will work despite all other evidence to the contrary. If America is to climb out of this hole, they had better start praying.

[Ed. Note: This budget hadn't yet been approved by Congress as of press time. Also, most Democrats and a few key Republicans oppose many of the cuts in the slated budget. It will be interesting to see whether Congress gives Bush their seal of approval.]