Finally...

...a new band bringing back the true spirit of rebellious rock. I haven't heard their music (yet) and I may not even like it, but with all the pre-fab, formulaic sounds, regurgitated ideology, and mindless trend followers infiltrating this scene of music today, Avenged Sevenfold may be the most punk yet.

Quote fromg singer M. Shadows in AMNY:
In fact, "Blinded In Chains" is about the philosophical war between Republicans and Democrats. The former are excessively closed-minded, says Shadows, 24, and the latter are "a bunch of -- idiots where everyone looks at Michael Moore and does what he says." If from that statement you can't glean the band's politics, consider that Avenged Sevenfold sells American-flag T-shirts proclaiming, "Love It Or Die."

"Most people know we're kind of one of the only bands around right now that will admit that we're Republican," says Shadows, who performs at Saturday's Ozzfest on Randalls Island. "When we went on the [punk-rock] Warped Tour last year - all of those bands, they're not only anti-war, they're anti-everything our country stands for. We were like, ' -- this.' We're going to wear our America shirts."

Crazy Diamond

I find it kind of odd that Syd Barrett’s death was announced on the very same day Pink Floyd’s new DVD was released. “Pulse” came out on 7/11, the very same day the world found out Barrett’s pulse stopped. (It was reported that he died several days prior.)

Also oddly coincidental, or not, I lost my virginity to the song “Comfortably Numb.”

The Kitten's Roar

At least he didn't kiss the kid's belly....

Uptown Locals

Heard on the uptown 6 train, while leaving Bleeker:

Man (white, 50-something, well-dressed) in stern voice: “I wish you wouldn’t drink and drug in my house!”

Woman (white, 50-something, well dressed) in very matter-of-fact kind of tone: “Well I wish you wouldn’t beat and strangle me in the living room.”

Over Troubled Water

As a kid, growing up in Ozone Park, Queens, there were certain structures that were signs of sophistication for me. They were the Triborough Bridge and the Twin Towers.

From the corner of Pitkin Avenue, I could see the towers perfectly, and depending on the sun and the time of day, there were moments they looked so close I could ride my bike toward them. Truth was that they weren’t far as in miles, but they were still a journey away into Manhattan. And if you lived in NYC in the 70s and early 80s, you would know that the subways aren’t as accessible as they are now. In fact, I was forbidden to ride them. Even today, I am amazed when I see twelve-year-old kids without their parents on the subway. (I am also amazed when I hear immigrants complain about their life in this country, but that is another blog.)

I remember the very first time I went to the Twin Towers—it was a P.S.64 class trip (one of the few), and we ate our sandwiches packed and prepared by our moms in one of those seats right next to the window on one of the top floors. I recall pressing my body against the windowpane and looking down, feeling safe, but still sensing risk. I was in awe.

As a family, almost everything we did was in Queens and Brooklyn, except when it came to the holidays. That’s when my parents packed us in the car and over the Triborough Bridge, we ventured into the city. We visited Rockefeller Center to ice skate, Macy’s to see Santa, and we ate hot pretzels from the street carts illuminated by the white lights in the small barren trees, which only heightened the feeling of elation when we saw “the tree” next to the rink. Everyone looked more sophisticated when we went to the city, especially my mom, who was often adorned in her fox fur coat. I’m sure my dad wore his initialed diamond pinky ring.

Today is the 70th birthday of the Triborough Bridge. It’s amazing to think that when my grandparents were kids, it didn’t even exist. Instead, people were grateful when they came through Ellis Island on a boat from wherever. But then again, MTV wasn’t around until I was in my teens, and the Internet, well, let’s just say that while I was given an email account in college, I had no interest in using it. I thought it was a fad, like CDs.

Things certainly change, as my beloved skyline has, and the one remaining thread of my thoughts of sophistication is the Triborough Bridge. Happy Birthday.

I'm Like, "No, You Are So Generic."

I guess Williamsburg is the new Hamptons.
Does that make the B61 the new Jitney?

I'm going to be, like, killed.

He Must Like Blonde Russians

Maybe Russians express themselves differently. In the United States, kissing a five-year-old boy you do not know on the belly (after lifting his shirt) is an action reserved for priests (and they sort of know the little fellas since they usually are alter boys). Putin himself even said he couldn’t control himself when he encountered the “defenseless” (his words) boy. "I tell you honestly, I just wanted to touch him like a kitten and that desire of mine ended in that act." The kid now refuses to wash the spot where Putin’s lips once rested.

Perhaps even more disturbing is the low-cut blazer the newscaster is wearing who reported on the event.

Cummuting

On the bus this morning, there was a blue-collar kind of dad who told his two kids (both under ten), “In the mornings, people are mean and stupid.”

Then on the train, there was a burly guy wearing skull rings, who I could swear was fondling the pole as if it was his penis. He was short stroking it up and down as the train barreled through the tunnel.

Apparently, in the mornings, people are jerks too.

The Heart Wants What The Heart Wants

Facing the rest of his life in prison, Kenneth Lay, one of the bad guys in the Enron debacle, died of a heart attack today. Back in January, during the trail, Lay’s lawyer, Michael Ramsey, was hospitalized due to a heart ailment.

There are some things the body simply cannot take.

When The Dog Bites, When The Bee Stings...