This is the first review of anything on the Blog. Since I decided not to take any particular political stance I need to voice my opinion about something, cause that's what blogs are. A voice for the dilettante.

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Metallica has just recently come out with their newest album "Death Magnetic". The purpose of this album is basically to "rally the base" which has become cranky after the whole Napster thing, the whole "we kinda sucked during the late 90's" thing, the whole "St. Anger really sucked" thing and the whole rehab thing.

It's billed as a return to the roots of the most influential metal band ever. Fast, hard, frenetic and propped against the heavy metal conventions of death and anger are what most Metallica fans are hoping for. So in that sense "Death Magnetic" really does deliver. It sounds like old Master of Puppets Metallica.

The speed of the music is not a clever disguise for poor musicians to make a buck. There are complicated notes and it's obvious that Rob Trujillo was a positive influence on the band.

The woe of the album is twofold: There is no hook for the majority of the songs and James vocals are a mish mash, never really making sense or going along with the music. I explain further. Any good song has a hook; the one melody or whatever that carries the song. It's what you can hum along with or air guitar along to. Listen to Frayed End of Sanity or even St. Anger and you'll notice the hook. Except for Cyanide, My Apocalypse and The Day That Never Comes there's no real hook in the other songs.

I love James Hetfield but his vocals in "Death Magnetic" are borderline student theater monologues. Considering how the vocals in Creeping Death flow and ebb to tell a story, it's the way for most of Metallica's entire song list. But in "Death Magnetic" the vocals are seemingly thrown in because Rick Rubin didn't know what to do with them. And then I heard The Unforgiven III.

The original Unforgiven is in my top 5 favorite songs ever, and the follow up isn't that bad. But when I heard this new version I wept a little inside. Whereas the original song was long, slow, heavy and had a distinct western sound to it, III destroys the spirit of the song in every way. It starts off so well but after about a minute thirty it veers of into Coheed and Cambria territory. Lets compare lyrics.

The Unforgiven
They dedicate their lives
To running all of his
He tries to please them all
This bitter man he is
Throughout his life the same
He's battled constantly
This fight he cannot win
A tired man they see no longer cares
The old man then prepares
To die regretfully
That old man here is me


It sounds poetic and almost Frostian if I'm allowed to say that.

The Unforgiven III
His sinking life
Outside it's hell
Inside, intoxication

He's run aground
Like his life
Water much too shallow


It sounds like some fairy dust moans from 30 Seconds To Mars. I hate it.

Buy those three songs I mentioned on iTunes, they are pretty good. Overall I'd have to give the album a C. Get a better producer guys, please.

Sentences.

Security has never been a huge issue with me. I'm the guy that leaves his keys and wallet in his shoes while he's is swimming at the beach. It would come as a surprise to most that I have discovered a new form of personal security to guard against petty theft and beyond.

It's simple really, deviously simple. The common pair of blue jeans, of any particular brand hold enough stopping power to foil even the most Oceans 11 of crooks. When worn standing up blue jeans offer little security to anything the user is storing in the pockets. But if the jeans are worn at a 90 degree angle, such as when your sitting down, the pockets become locked in a bear trap grip around the contents of the pockets, especially the front pockets. Place lower priority belongings; such as brochures, gloves, pens, iPod headphones, in the rear pockets and save the front pockets for higher value items like jewelry, ammunition, cellular phones, records, gloves and cigarettes. No man, beast or complex machinery can get at your pockets without groping your highly secure thighs and buttocks.

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What has drawn me most to the business of telling stories visually is the audience. Not fame per say but a group of people enjoying my work. It's not something I have experienced very often but when I have its a very potent sensation. You can have all the passion in the world to get change peoples lives but it's the rush of one or two things that keeps you coming back for more after each failure.

I was in the audience with some of my closest friends for a showing of a short film that I was in. The audience was of the jaded New York indie film crowd and I was dying a thousand deaths waiting for my film to start. The tension was all over my body, I wanted to leave so badly and I wanted to stay so badly. It was unlike any anticipation that I've ever felt. My neck was tight and my breathing was concentrated.

The short was a comedy so I was hoping for at least one laugh; one laugh is all I needed to count the film as a success. As the intro music started my eyes began to weep because I was stressing out so badly. An eternity passed...







A chuckle after the first joke! I held my breath.

A second and a third.

a group of 5 over there 3 more over here.

halfway through and half of the audience was really into it.

For the last joke a good 75% of the crowd was laughing out loud, not roaring with laughter but a good belly laugh. It was more than I had ever hoped for. I was elated and proud of what me and my team had accomplished. All the effort and money and stress to get to this damned film festival coalesced into a few brief moments of pure bliss. The bliss of knowing that, paired with dedicated people, I could make an audience forget their lives for just a moment and share an emotion together as a group.

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Music of the week is Metallica. Show of the week is House. High point of the week is getting to PA on a friends music video. Low point of the week was getting short changed on my last paycheck by 50%.