As is customary, let me begin at the beginning of what is becoming my most intense period of discontent with professional athletics. On July 8th, 2010, LeBron James announced his decision to sign with the Miami Heat basketball team in a televised special called, aptly, The Decision. Let me qualify that, though I think it was not the most loyal choice, I have no real problems with LeBron’s actual decision to leave Cleveland.

Part of this comes from my theory that LeBron James, or at least the one we see, is not a real person. He is a cipher, a carefully calibrated almost-hero whose authors made a grave error and brutally tarnished the legacy of a preternaturally talented young man who, from the age 14, has been literally referred to as a King. Any human with a realistic sense of the world around them would have avoided The Decision like a plague. LeBron on the other hand appeared genuinely shocked at the backlash.

The season and playoffs, despite my malaise at the Lakers’ early exit, ended up being the most exciting in recent memory, and ended with the underdog Mavs defeating the evil Heat. Hooray for all, and well deserved national schadenfreude ensued. Then something quite strange happened. LeBron, in one of the most inexplicable moves I’ve ever witnessed an athlete make, even more damning than The Decision, gave an interview in which he essentially told his detractors to shut up and retreat to their shitty jobs.

That was when I really realized that this was not a human that lived in the same world as the rest of us. That comment showed a fundamental misunderstanding of what professional sports are. To draw a distinction between a team or a league and its fans is to nullify the league’s existence in every way. Could a professional athlete really behave like that? I was comforted by my belief that LeBron was the most obvious of outliers, a selfish and misguided deviation. I was wrong.

Somewhere, in a parallel earth, it is basketball season right now. My father, a born and bred Pittsburgh boy, was a devout Pirates fan and general baseball super-enthusiast. That is, until 1994. That was the year when the MLB cancelled their whole season. It took him over 15 years to really start appreciating the game again. I fear that, without a resolution soon, I will feel a similar betrayal. All because of pure monetary greed.

In many ways this lockout has been like finding out Santa Claus isn’t real. Any sense I had of a team fighting for their city or their fans has been damaged, I hope not irreparably. The NBA Lockout is a sad and disheartening thing to watch. Especially in our country’s time of economic struggle (to put it lightly), it infuriates to no end watching players stubbornly grasp onto almost incomprehensible amounts of money, refusing to give an inch even at the expense of THE GAME NOT EVEN BEING PLAYED.

I really can’t stress that point enough. I’ve lost the ever-important suspension of disbelief about why athletes deserve so much money, because right now the players of the NBA are not professional athletes. They will regain that title when they play a game. So perhaps the rest of the league is more like LeBron than I feared. To them, their mere existence is the spectacle, the importance. Not throwing some silly orange ball through a metal ring. They just want us to go back to our shitty jobs.

I have two questions: “What did we do to deserve this?” and, more troublingly “did we do this?” Does it not logically line up that our continued treatment of these players as superhuman has contributed to their comfortability with values that are in no way indicative of the adoring public’s? Or is it the player’s responsibility to “stay grounded” and maintain perspective, contextualizing themselves as a proletarians who just happens to be payed enormous salaries? Is that even possible?

Why does it somehow seem wrong to everyone (at least me) to pay them even vaguely normal amounts? I know I seem to be coming down pretty heavily on the side of the owners right now, but the fact is that the league loses 300 million dollars a year. I’m no economist, but when reminded that the league could theoretically be profitable if less than 15 players were released from their mega-contracts, it feels like something is out of whack.

That being said, I’m sure there are some ins and outs of this process that I don’t fully grasp, and probably a lot of deep seeded acrimony between the players and owners. But that’s not what I’m thinking about right now. I’m thinking about how I’m not sitting on my couch wearing my Kobe jersey and watching those beautiful purple and yellow bastards play basketball. That hurts.

This past week I graced two different Thanksgiving potlucks with my presence. That’s rather generous, wouldn’t you say? I always wonder if this weekend, the weekend before Thanksgiving, is Thanksgiving weekend, or if it’s next weekend, the weekend technically after the holiday? That was a very Andy Rooney-like meandering. We’ll stay away from those for the remainder of this week’s debrief.

Back to the T-day Potlucks; I know my presence was appreciated as people gave thanks that I was there. I, however, was not thankful for these thanks.

Not Giving Thanks

I offended all of the people who were giving thanks at this first potluck. There were about twenty of them. I only knew a handful of these people, maybe five, and the ones I didn’t know it was only sort of nice to meet them. It’s not like the introduction was life altering. As we were going around saying what we were thankful for, everyone was expressing gratitude for meeting everyone else at the party. I didn’t realize there was this social convention of the all-encompassing courtesy thanks. I wouldn’t do it.

When my turn came in the circle of thanks, the pressure was on. I wasn’t gonna do it; I would not thank people I just met for just meeting them. I was very thankful for the ones I did know (pretty thankful, at least), but I am not, and will never be a phony thanker. It was time for a joke, I thought.

“Well, to start, I’m thankful for soup.”

Blank stares.

“And genius. I’m thankful for genius. You know, people being geniuses. It’s given us a lot of great things. IPods, and Chicken & Waffles.”

“Um, are you serious?” some girl asked.

“Yeah. What, you don’t like those things?” I asked.

She was drunk. “Aren’t you thankful for family? Or friends? Or the fact that we’re all here?”

“I’m thankful for dogs. Mostly little dogs, I don’t like big ones all that much.”

“Ew. Who invited you?”

It wasn’t a very valid question. Obviously the host of the small potluck had issued my invitation.

Maybe it was how I was raised. Probably not, because who needs honesty, but I just could not give a non-genuine thanks. And I really am thankful for all those things. IPods, Southern food, Dogs – I love those things! To make up for the first potluck’s botched thanks, I really gave it my all at the second potluck. There, I gave some good thanks. Though I did start with that same soup bit. It was more appreciated this time. Man, I’m good. People might be taking this giving thanks thing too seriously. I don’t know, I’m probably just ungrateful.

Occupy a W Suite

“Hey, what are you doing today?”

“I think I’m gonna skip class again and go down to Occupy.”

Again? Bad move. I overheard a girl say this the other day. Don’t you think it would be a better move to go to class in the long run? Well, whatever.

This past week in Occupy Wall Street news it was revealed that one of the lead figures in the Occupy movement, businessman Peter Dutro, has been staying in the lavish, $700-per-night W Hotel. “Fuck a tent!” Dutro may have been overheard saying as he jumped on the bed in his W suite while eating all of the treats from the minibar. Dutro reportedly checked in to the hotel after the raid on Zuccotti park earlier in the week, claiming that it was the only room he could find, despite living in Brooklyn. This is an important step for the Occupy movement, proving that even in times of social unrest, it’s crucial to regroup and order an $18 pastrami sandwich to be delivered by room service.

Russian Politics

As if Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin isn’t already my boy, and a shoe-in for the Russian Presidency, this new ad campaign is sure to secure his win in the upcoming elections. That is, unless it backfires and ruins all of his chances, which is possible. This new clip depicts an attractive young Russian woman arriving at the voting polls, and while she is getting her ballot, Justin Guarini’s cousin rolls up and gives her a once-over. Then they go and have sex in the voting booth for, like, three-seconds. Following the fornication, they show their Russian pride by casting their ballots for Putin as the campaign slogan, “Let’s do it together” flashes across the screen in Russian.

I’m in. Let’s do it.

Simply put: The ad is awesome. The sex; the techno; the curls: it’s the type of campaign that would never fly in America (though Herman Cain is doing his best to challenge that notion). Unfortunately, some Russians aren’t supporting it either. Voting in Russia is supposed to be done in private, as is the case in most countries with elections. Gennady Gudkov, a poor sport from the opposing party, A Just Russia, is now calling for an investigation because, in depicting two people in the voting booth, the ad violates the Russian constitution. In response, people are calling for an investigation into whether or not Gudkov understands that commercials are fake.

It’s been a great week, Reader. In case we don’t speak before Thursday, have a nice holiday. Oh, what did I make for the potlucks? Let me tell you. For the first one I made nothing, because whatever. For the second one, however, boy did I cook up some autumnal treats. Acorn squash with brown sugar, and some poached apples; it was great. Most importantly, I brought a pumpkin pie to the festivities. I found out I hadn’t had any pumpkin pie yet this season. In retaliation, I’ve had six this weekend. Take care.

It was recently announced that the popular children’s mystery book series, Where’s Waldo?, is going to be adapted for the big screen. I know, I’m hesitant too. The book’s reliance on reader interaction makes the series an odd choice for the film medium, but perhaps MGM, the studio that bought the rights to the series, are on to something. Here are a few ways that this movie may go down.

1. Live Action Search: One way that this movie might be formatted is as a direct recreation of the crowded page on the screen. That’s right: I’m thinking that perhaps this whole movie will be wide shots of thousands of people, and hidden among them will be our striped hero. The filmmakers will likely visit large, open, well-known places, like Times Square or the Grand Canyon, and just film a bunch of extras walking around with Tobey Maguire, who obviously will play Waldo. Then, audiences will be able to spend about fifteen minutes searching through each scene and shouting, “Hey, there he is! If found him!” This will certainly be a movie that shushers will want to skip.

Alternatively, the movie might just be large pictures of the actual pages of a Where’s Waldo? book. That could be cool.

2. 3D Search: With 3D technology infiltrating its way into more and more movies, perhaps the Waldo filmmakers will similarly make use of this gimmick. After applying 3D glasses, audiences will be able to see the Waldo-covering crowd all around them, and feel as though they are amassed in the search. Then, viewers who don’t know any better will run up to the virtual Waldo shouting about their discovery, and trying to grab hold of him, but because he will be virtual they will look like idiots. They might then also fall down, just because that would be something an idiot would do.

3. Interactive Search: One final way that this film might be produced is that individual theaters will hire actors to dress like Waldo and sit among the audience. The movie screen will indicate what the setting is, be it the Roman Colosseum or the alien farms of Area 51, and from the speakers music will play to match the displayed scene. The audience will then get up and walk around the theatre looking for the person dressed as Waldo.

Or, maybe instead of having the audience stand up and hunt for someone dressed like Waldo, the screen will display a part of the world and matching music will play and moviegoers will sit in their seats and all read Waldo books. That would be a ton of fun.

Whichever one of these three brilliant ideas is chosen, this movie is sure to be a classic, right up their with Scarface.

A few weeks ago, we had the pleasure of linking up with some of our favorite hessians: Cavalera Conspiracy. Our good friend Iggor Cavalera, accompanied by fellow bandmate Johnny Chow, stopped by the office and the shop to catch up with us and talk about the future. CC stopped by while on their East Coast leg of their tour featuring Opeth and Earth Crisis who is alive and still straight edge.

Unfortunately Max (Cavalera) woke up that day and could not speak forcing them to cancel the date but we’re hoping to catch them next time with new material as hard hitting as their latest release, Blunt Force Trauma, and of course some Sepultura classics.

On his right side is Andrew Kline whom on this tour is Iggor’s drum tech but any other day you can find him busy in the studio, hard at work on a variety of projects including an unreleased album with famed Cypress Hill Dj/Producer DJ Muggs that will take you on a Portishead-esque journey to the dark side and back; and “Carry on Tradition,”,a hip hop album under the moniker Drew Tradition featuring West Coast all-stars such as B-Real, Ras Kass, Apathy and Planet Asia. If you’re still edge and haven’t lost your hardcore then you will most certainly know Andrew from 90s straight edge powerhouse, Strife. There is only one truth!

Мишка
350 Broadway
Brooklyn, NY
718-388-1725

J/M/Z to Marcy Ave
G to Broadway
L to Lorimer

Another week, another debrief. It’s been a long one too, hasn’t it? Not a bad one; it certainly was not bad, just long. There’s a lot to cover, too: Halloween, burritos, weather patterns. Let’s get into it.

Halloween: This weekend marks the half way point of the Fall Four, that being the four fall holidays (starting with my birthday in September and ending with Christmas). I’m a big fan of Halloween and its wonderful traditions of dressing up and asking people you don’t know for candy until your dad’s flask runs out at which point it’s time to go home. I’m still pretty bummed that I cannot trick-or-treat any longer, having already continued the tradition until a very innapropriate age (at this point, no one wants a twenty-one year-old boy-man coming to their door looking for treats).

The video up top is awesome. It’s exactly what I want from a video: Animals being cute and doing funny things. Zoos across the nation give their animals pumpkins on Halloween to get them into the holiday spirit, sometimes even hiding treats in the pumpkins! ”We do spice them up a little bit with meal worms for the meerkats,” said  Tony Franceschiello, the senior keeper at the San Diego Zoo said. “The bat-eared foxes have mice and crickets crawling throughout. Elephants just pretty much crush them, because they’re melon eaters anyway.” This is almost as great as seeing small dogs in costume. I like that too.

Hip Hop: I know a fairly decent amount when it comes to Hip Hop and Hip Hop history. That being said, I have never heard of the rapper 2 Chainz before this year’s BET Awards. Never. I never even heard his name in passing, or in a brief overview regarding southern rap. But then he was featured in one of the BET cyphers, and now he is everywhere, collaborating with people like Nelly, T.I., and Gucci Mane and giving interviews on Sway In The Morning and The Breakfast Club. He’s not a new rapper, is the thing. 2 Chainz was, or maybe still is, in the rap duo Playaz Circle, which formed in 1997 and released their first album in 2007. Though again, I had never heard of Playaz Circle (I question how much of a circle you can make with only two people) until recently.

I’m not really advising you to check him out; he sounds just like everything else coming out of the South. I mean, listen to “Riot” up top. It’s a complete imitation of a Lex Luger beat and the current radio sound. More than anything I’m just amazed at 2 Chainz’ sudden emergence, or rather, reemergence. Generally in the BET cyphers I’ve at least heard of all the participants, even the up and comers, but 2 Chainz isn’t even a new rapper, he’s sort of a veteran. I guess, I don’t know, I’m just baffled by where he came from and how he is suddenly on every other song being released.

Weather: This weekend, for the first time in history (the history of me living in New York, at least) it snowed in October. It was pretty lame. Worse than the snow itself were the remarks people made regarding the snowy conditions. Here are some of the better lines I overheard:

“Can you believe this weather!?”

Yeah, I one-hundred percent can. It’s happened innumerable amounts of times in the past.

“Man, it’s too cold for weather!”

No, it’s not. That doesn’t make any sense.

“The snow is so fitting for Halloween…in December!”

Um, what?

Food: To wrap up this week’s debrief, let me tell you a little about what I’ve been eating recently. All this weekend, as is my Halloween tradition, I’ve been making Pumpkin Pancakes. They’re great, you just add some pumpkin puree into the pancake batter and you’ve got an instant seasonal treat. Serve with some apple sauce on top, or on the side if you don’t like your foods to touch, and you’re set.

Also, the other night I had a Catfish Burrito, which I didn’t know was even a thing. Did you? Either way, it was good.

That’s it. Happy Halloween.

When I first made it into the city I didn’t know what to think. I had never seen someone who looked like me. And the pants, and the shirts’ it was madness. People were everywhere. Things were everywhere. There were buildings; there were cars. It was wild. Coming from my rural home in the middle of nowhere, I was not used to this type of lifestyle. You see, I was Raised By Wolves.

Not really. That’s just the name of this brand that we’re now stocking in the online store! Perhaps you’ve heard of them. Or maybe you haven’t, whatever. Regardless, we’ve got ‘em! Now in the store is the Rosie tee and the Pom Beanie in a handful of colors (check out the Cream one, it’s real nice), pictured above. So head over to our online store and get your wolf on.

No, that was a bad ending. Okay: Head over to the store and get wild.

No. How about this: Head over to the store and buy this or else wolves will come and eat you.

There we go.

Absu – Abzu (2011) [Candlelight] // Grade: B

Back in 1990, the Plano, Texas trio Absu began compiling a healthy arsenal of death metal tracks which they compiled into five demos. Yes, five demos. When they were pleased with their sound, the dark lords said “It is good” and released Barathrum: V.I.T.R.I.O.L. in 1993. Now, almost 20 years later, the’ve put out six full lengths, including their newest, Abzu. A lot has changed since their early days. The band has morphed into a blackened thrash act and their sound has achieved numerous accolades. But just how good is Abzu?

Coming off 2009′s Absu, which is still a favorite of mine, this new album packs some cleverly-disguised punches. Aside from the jarring hair metal intro, “Earth Ripper” opens a chasm of mysticism and lore. The sound is very similar to their previous release and their hammering tremolo picking is addicting without being overbearing. Their two-stepped tempo chugs along, allowing “Circles of the Oath” enough momentum to explode in a fury of blast beats. This is Absu’s black metal sound at its finest and even though I prefer their music tinged with thrash, this is my favorite cut on the album.

For that circle pit thrash sound, queue up “Abraxas Connexus,” it’s still blackened but there’s obviously a huge thrash influence here. Much as Absu’s sound has evolved over time, this album shape shifts before you can register what is happening. This continues with “Skrying in the Spirit Vision,” evoking more of that mysticism they’ve been working so hard on. Absu isn’t known for their particularly long albums and with only “Ontologically, It Became Time & Space” and “A Song for Ea including” remaining, you might overlook the fact that the latter is a staggering 14 minutes long! The entire title is actually “A Song for Ea including: (a) E-A (b) A Myriad of Portals ( c) Third Tablet ( d) Warren of Imhullu ( e) The Waters – The Denizens ( f) E-A (Reprise).” Does that make sense?

To back track a bit, Absu was the first part of a new trilogy based on magick and occultism and Abzu is the follow up to that. That leaves one more album in the trilogy and Abzu sets it up to be one stellar release. While Abzu may not be as successful of an album as Absu was, there’s still hope. After all, what sequel is ever better than the original? It’s always the third release in a trilogy that saves the series right? We’ll have to wait another two years to find out if that holds true.

Chicago! It’s that time again, as resident DJs Teen Witch and Baby Bamboo bring you CULT. A monthly party celebrating the weirdest, freakiest music the underground has to offer, you won’t want to miss this week’s edition.

Joining the CULT on Thursday is LA by way of Sydney DJ Plastic Plates. Plastic Plates is quickly making a name for himself in the nu disco scene with his remixes of acts as diverse as Adele, Mark Ronson, Sia and Human League. Check out his Moda Mixtape for nearly an hour of sexy smooth house and disco beats. Who knew CULT could get down like this?

Moda Mixtape September 2011 by Plastic Plates

Thursday September 29th, 10pm – 4am
Berlin Nightclub
954 W. Belmont Ave.
Chicago, IL
RSVP For Free Entry
21+ to Enter

Do you like Common, the rapper? Good, me too. No, I know, his last album (2008′s Universal Mind Control) wasn’t that great, but let’s not dwell on the past. Rather, let’s look ahead to the future. It seems that what the future holds for Common is the publication of his first memoir, One Day It’ll All Make Sense, by Atria Books.

According to Amazon, One Day:

is a gripping memoir, both provocative and funny. Common shares never-before-told stories about his encounters with everyone from Tupac to Biggie, Ice Cube to Lauryn Hill, Barack Obama to Nelson Mandela. Drawing upon his own lyrics for inspiration, he invites the reader to go behind the spotlight to see him as he really is—not just as Common but as Lonnie Rashid Lynn.

That last bit about drawing from his own lyrics recalls the concept for Jay-Z’s Decoded, which was both an awesome concept and product so perhaps this too will be a must-have piece of rap literature. Plus, when has Common been known to put out a bad product (again, ignoring that last album)?

Also, check out that Maya Angelou quote on the front. “A magnificent memoir.” A magnificent quote.

Above check out the video for Common’s latest single, “Ghetto Dreams,” featuring Nas. One Day It’ll All Make Sense drops September 13th.

I’ve been trying to get somebody to buy me a Fruit Dehydrator for a couple of months now. Ideally my mother will buy one for me, but it could be purchased by anybody, really. I was hoping to receive one as a housewarming gift in July, but that event came and went with no sign of the essential appliance. Now I’m vying for ownership to coincide with my birthday in September. So far, my hopes are high.

When people hear that I want a fruit dehydrator they question my motive. “Why would you want a Fruit Dehydrator?” they ask. The answer is simple, and often is delivered in the form of a counter question:

Why wouldn’t I want a Fruit Dehydrator?

With one of these miracle-working machines, both consumers of fruit and fans of shriveled things alike (I being the former, though also the latter given the right circumstances) can finally take things into their own hands and have dried fruit whenever they like. There’s always that one peach in the bunch that you just didn’t get to, or the apple that got left out too long. Now, instead of throwing the mushy fruit away, or forcing yourself to eat it out of dedication to the dollar, you can just dry that juicy, over-ripe piece of produce out and enjoy it! It really is like a Fountain of Youth for fruit. Or, well, no I guess it’s not like that. What it is, actually, is it’s like a fountain that, if you were dying, you could go in and be healed, but under the condition that you will now be a senior citizen. Still alive, just old. That’s what it’s like.

I’ve wanted one of these machines since I was eleven, but things just never seemed to work out for me. It seemed like luck was on my side during the days leading up to my fifteenth birthday when both my parents began to increasingly drop hints concerning things old, and shriveled, but it turned out that the only surprise was an unexpected visit from my old, shriveled Aunt Delaney. And then, again, when I was eighteen, I thought for sure that a fruit dehydrator was in my future, as I was promised something really exciting and special for Christmas. It turned out to be just a brand new computer. You can bet I was pissed!

This is my year though. I can feel it! All the signs are there: I’ve been eating plenty of fruit, I’ve been staying dry, I’ve been seeing lots of machines around, and on top of all those, I just got a haircut! That last one is always a good sign. With these clear messages from the heavens presenting themselves all at once, I am confident that this year, finally, I will be gifted a Fruit Dehydrator.

And plus, besides just having the feeling, Fruit Dehydrators were recently featured on Bon Apetit‘s website as part of a feature entitled the Five Best Kitchen Gadgets for Healthier Cooking. Boom! Check that out. The Fruit Dehydrator is on the come up. I don’t mean to think of myself as a trend setter — a revolutionary, if you will — but the Fruit Dehydrator very well could be the next shutter shades, otherwise known as Kanye Glasses. Pretty soon, I imagine, Fruit Dehydrators will be available on street corners and party stores alike, and most likely for a much cheaper price then they’re original, high-fashion counterparts. This doesn’t upset me, however. Some people might be upset that something they pined for and cherished, something that only they believed in and thought of as cool would suddenly be propelled into the mainstream (see: fans of Odd Future), now becoming the poster child of “cool.” Not me, however. I wish only the best for the Fruit Dehydrator. I believed in the potential benefits of owning one when no one else would even hear its case, the potential to totally revolutionize the fruit eating industry as well as the home kitchen. I hope that one day everyone will have a Fruit Dehydrator. They’re that awesome.

Other things that I want for my birthday, as long as we’re on the subject are Wind Chimes, preferably metal, but wooden wouldn’t be so bad, one of those spy tools that cuts circular holes in glass, I’m not sure what they’re actually called, or a Race Car Bed. Any of those things I would be happy with, but the Fruit Dehydrator is definitely number one.