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| I like to think of myself as the master of my own destiny | |||||
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Fri, 23 Jun 2006 who do you think you are? The other day I was in Whole Foods at the self check-out machines. Two of the three of them were dead, and this guy was trying to get them to work. Some cryptic error message was coming up, and he had no freaking idea what was going on. I (correctly, it turns out) surmised that it must be because they were trying to warm-boot and failing to retrieve their previous state from the server. I said to him, "here, just... do this." I guess I'm kind of like the fairy godfather of broken computers. Also of interest: we went to Central Market for lunch yesterday, and I swung through the beer aisle on the way out. Sitting on my desk impatiently waiting to be drunk are a nice-looking Maredsous Tripel (the Maredsous "8" Dubbel is one of my favorites from the taps at the Ginger Man, though it turns out that my Ginger Man default beer, Tripel Karmeliet, is Beer Advocate's third- or fourth-favorite tripel-style beer—gotsta get me some Saint Bernardus) and my old friend, Delirium Tremens, the latter courtesy of my intern, Sid (thanks, Sid!). Lastly, I bought Blue October's new album, Foiled. You might know the single, "Hate Me," which has received lots of radio airplay (in these parts, anyway). The whole album is extremely solid vocally, instrumentally, and with respect to production. The songs are great, and several of them are really catchy. The mood of the album is well represented in the single, viz., life-on-the-edge-of-depression-and-madness (though not in the same way as The Soft Bulletin by any means). It's kind of like if Trent or Maynard decided to go with ballads and wrote the album just as they ran out of Prozac and were riding their falling blood concentration back into oblivion (what's the halflife of Prozac in the body, anyway? Too short to write this whole album, I'd say). It's not depressing, exactly, but it's getting there. Of note: "She's My Ride Home" (a strange Natural Born Killers-syle love song), "Into the Ocean" (the opening reminds me of Simon and Garfunkel, somehow), "Congratulations" (features Imogen Heap!), and "Drilled a Wire Through My Cheek" (Prozac levels falling critically low, you can feel insanity's barbwire fence cutting the insides of your elbows on this one). Forgive me if my descriptions are self-indulgent. I got to work at 7a today as part of my master plan to never hit traffic once we move downtown by coming in unconscionably early. writebackWikipedia wrote
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