For Your Weekend Viewing Pleasure

Because There Is Nothing More Punk Than A Banjo

Please enjoy Dropkick Murphys on Letterman from last night:

Born So Very Soft & Easygoing

Its Tentacles are Bland...

The dream was intense.

The events were not.

But the dream... it was intense.

And filled with danger.

Running. Threats. Malice.

Pure, unadulterated evil.

Oh, and fire.

Spontaneous, massive fire.

And I was running. Being chased. If I were caught... well, that would be the end.



I woke up sweating. Heart beating a mile a minute.

With one single thought: this was not my dream.

This was something I stumbled into. Something I took from someone.

Something that might have killed the original dreamer.

Because I wasn't being chased. There is no fire.

There are problems. And obstacles. And things I can handle.

I have an idea whose dream it was. But I'm not sure.

I hope you don't even remember it if it was yours.

I hope you slid into a different dream. A happier dream. A dream that made you smile.

Because if you did it would be worth my few moments of panic and sweat and heart palpitations.

My New Favorite Thing Ever

At least right this second.

Go here. Read this.

Do it now.

Thank me later.

Name that Accent

Where in the Hell Does He Think He Comes From edition

Seriously, who sings like this?



And what is this song about? Oranges?

MUSH

New trailer for M*U*S*H:

New Robyn Hitchcock

Love From London

Album comes out next Tuesday.

Here's a taste (complete with nice cello action):

Fish, Living and Dead, Subtitled in German

I'm never gonna be 35...

The sun was coming up over a hill.

We were in a car. Driving towards the sun. I'd like to tell you what state it was, but I can't remember.

She had a sweatshirt on. From a university she'd never heard of.

She'd bought the sweatshirt at a flea market, drawn by the logo, which had a small fish in the corner.

I never would have bought that sweatshirt. Not if I hadn't been there. Not if I hadn't heard of it.

And certainly not if there was a fish on the logo.




We were heading to an abandoned village. A ghost town that had boomed briefly, then died.

A place where people fell in love, had children, made millions.

A place that was rumored to be in the running for a huge corporate headquarters that instead went to the Great Plains.

A place supposedly rich in minerals. But they could never be found.

A place with a fantastic lake that was ideal for swimming. Until the earthquake when it drained.

We started at 4 in the morning. The drive was only supposed to take an hour.

But we made some wrong turns.

And several roads were unmarked.

And there was a tree down at one of the intersections.

So it took longer.

We'd planned to get there before sunrise. Watch the sun come out over the rotting buildings.

Those were the plans.



I'd like to tell you that it was amazing when we reached it.

I'd like to tell you we had fantastic adventures when we were there.

I'd like to say that the abandoned village gave me insights that colored the way I viewed the world.

The truth is we never got there.

We never found it.

And on the way back, we stopped to eat.

And she left the flea market sweatshirt on a chair.

Lost to the vicissitudes of time, the tiny fish on the logo unable to find the lake that was no longer there and swim away.