Imagine hearing any and every song that you love at any time of the night or day. Now you can. No longer must you suffer through long periods of time with redundant commercials. SIRIUS offers 100% commercial-free, unedited music. And guess what? The DJs are actually funny, intelligent, well-witted, and knowledgeable! Imagine that! Whether you love Echo and The Bunnymen (The First Wave Channel would be up your alley then, with alternative artists from the '80s), Elvis (who has his OWN channel), Bob Dylan, or Oasis. Maybe you love the groundbreaking no-holds-barred literate lyricism of rap pioneers like Chuck D and Public Enemy? Then BackSpin is all yours. Every genre of music is represented here and it is a truly amazing feat. Then add in the other channels, like Air America (the main reason I purchased SIRIUS) a second liberal talk channel called SIRIUS Left that carries Ed Schultz, Stephanie Miller, and a terrific program called The Young Turks, two conservative talk channels (if you're so inclined...but why would you be?), NPR, BBC, and a channel devoted solely to radio serials!
I know that I sound like a walking ad for them but you really have no idea. And thankfully my sister's boyfriend fixed the inner workings of our car so that we can use it in there as well! I got SIRIUS at Circuit City as they've opened a new store here last Thursday. There was a lady from xm radio who talked up her product very well. I was all ready to sign up but something wasn't right. I excused myself, found an Internet-ready PC, and went to both radio services's websites. SIRIUS has Air America on its own channel; xm doesn't and cuts off The Majority Report to air the fake liberal Alan Colmes radio show. So long story short, I feel that I made the better deal. They still tried to convince me that xm was the way to go as NBA & NHL games will interrupt SIRIUS's Air America channel but hopefully the NHL will not have a season this year and I can live with the NBA stuff. Either way, it's great to have the liberal talk network on its own channel.
Looks suitably creepy, huh? This is French director Georges Franju's reportedly nightmarish and claustrophobic 1959 horror film about a doctor who tries to rebuild his daughter's scarred face by taking pieces from other girls. I got this from Netflix the other day and anticipate viewing it.
And in tremendously great indie film news...
This movie streets tomorrow and I am on pins and needles with excitement. I'll be buying this no doubt. I also need to catch Constantine this weekend. I picked up the following movies at work on VHS for one dollar today: Dog Park, Better Off Dead (THE seminal John Cusack '80s movie; fuck Say Anything! This is the real deal! "I want my two dollars!"), and Doc Hollywood.
This also comes out on DVD tomorrow...
This one is a prequel to the Cube trilogy and I've heard great things. I'll be giving this one a rent.
I will be taking a much-needed paid vacation from March 7th-14th. It'll be nice to sleep in and take some time off from work.
HUNTER S. THOMPSON
Rest In Peace
Much will be written of the "gonzo" journalist. They'll talk about him as the free spirited, loose-canon, the zeitgeist of an era of muckraking. But he was so much more than that. I can only speak as to how he touched me.
I was doing poorly in school and my dad had taken a job in some shitty little town in Texas called Big Spring. He wanted my mother to sell our barely-a-year old house and move there. Well, we visited and it wasn't much to speak of. Long story short, I was left there with my father in a futile attempt to turn my grades around. That March he and I took the most evil transport known to man, a Greyhound bus, from Big Spring, Texas to Savannah, Georgia, and then back again, jiggedy jigg.
If you've never had the pleasure of riding in a Greyhound bus over a long period of time then simply get into your car and stop the car every mile or so. It's the same thing. The only thing I had to keep me company during this strange and tiresome ordeal was a piece-of-shit portable CD player and a well-worn hardback copy of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Hunter was on the cover looking like he'd just dropped some luggage at the airport and was wondering why you were staring.
It is an utterly alive and completely surreal experience and you can never call yourself a reader if you've not sunk your ocular orbs into it. Words cannot articulate the novel's richness, its blatant contempt for the facile. It moves. It lives. It breathes.
Hunter S. Thompson was one of a kind. No one knows why he took his own life. But he has left us a legacy of great writing and wild stories and I will make sure to catch up on what I've missed. His life and times are legend and now he will be as well.