2002-06-19 - 12:16 p.m.
Today�s CD recommendation: Hot Snakes, Suicide Invoice.It�s not quite the same white-hot blast of sonic napalm that Automatic Midnight was, but it�ll still make your eardrums blister faster than anything else in your local indie record store. If you like The Strokes, you�ll like this better. If you like Blink, grow the hell up. If you like Creed, just die already--your mere presence offends me.
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I must admit, I don�t get soccer. It�s not for lack of trying. A lot of people I respect are going crazy over the World Cup right now and I even stayed up late Sunday night to catch the U.S.-Mexico game and see for myself what all the hoo-hah is about. I fell asleep about 20 minutes in. I can barely keep up with baseball and hockey--my brain is simply incapable of digesting the arcane complexities of yet another sport.
Personally, I want to see some buzkashi on TV. That�s the type of polo played in Afghanistan using a decapitated goat carcass as the ball. Games can go on for days (like cricket) and head injuries and broken limbs are common among players and even spectators (not at all like cricket). Where�s ESPN when you really need them?
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Started reading Fast Food Nation yesterday. Already a third of the way through it. Remember how grossed-out you got in eighth grade reading The Jungle. Just one chapter in this book--"Why the Fries Taste Good"--brings that feeling right back.
It�s also memorable for the part about the unholy partnership/rivalry between Ray Kroc and Walt Disney and how they both employed former Nazi scientists to promote atomic energy and Better Living Through Chemistry. Once ze French fries are up, who cares who chokes zem down?/Zat�s not my department, says Wernher von Braun.
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