labor days.

Loooong day yesterday. Up at 8am, hit the gym (this should garner a moment of silent commendation...I haven't been at the gym at 8am since 1997), then got some bloodwork done down by the Concertgebouw (just some random string ensemble dude living on the street down there, he does "Any Lab Test" and his prices are super-reasonable!), then hustled my aged ass uptown to sit around for 3 hours until UPS showed up (well, I worked on troubleshooting this website while I was waiting, so not a Total Loss), then I headed out for an evening of Culture.

Not really. I saw Cloverfield (I must warn you, don't read anything about it if you think you might see it, I wish I hadn't known anything about it), which was just alright, but I would've loved it if the filmmakers or the studios had really believed in using handheld video as the viewer's perspective; the more I could actually see of the action, the less interested I was. Characters that weren't thoroughly unlikeable would've helped too. I did really love the fact that there was no horror-movie music, and really no sounds other than those made by the characters. All of the characters, if you know what I'm saying. So: a very good idea, weakened by conceding to Hollywood's perceived accessibility requirements, big shocker.


Then, Aesop Rock + Rob Sonic at the Melkweg, which is roughly 11 times better than Paradiso as a place to see a show. I had a moment of Cloverfield-like horror when Rob Sonic took the stage: I'd forgotten he was going to be there, and when I saw this very afroed, unshaven fat man come out I thought, "Jesus, what the fuck has happened to Aesop Rock?" (also known to sport the semi-afro and un-shave). Here is a photo depicting their relative size (photo not mine, theirs):

You can appreciate my alarm. Here's a semi-foodrelated Aesop Rock verse for my friend Terrill who thinks he hates rap.


Flash that buttery gold
Jittery zeitgeist wither by the watering hole, what a patrol...
What are we to Heart Huckabee? Art fuckery, suddenly?
Not enough young in his lung for the waterwings?
Colorfully vulgar poacher, out of mulch, like:
"I'ma pull the pulse out a soldier and bolt."
Sign of the time we elapse
When a primate climb up a spine and attach
Eye for an eye by the bog life swamps and vines
They get a rise out of frogs and flies
So when a dogfight's hog-tied prize sort of costs a life
The mouths water on a fork and knife
And the allure isn't right
No score on a war-torn beach
Where the cash cow's actually beef
Blood turns wine when it leak for police
Like, "That's not a riot, it's a feast. Let's eat!"

And I will remember your name and face
On the day you are judged by "The Funhouse" cast
And I will rejoice in your fall from grace
With a cane to the sky like, "None shall pass."

"None Shall Pass" -Aesop Rock

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