Ultimately, this article points to the heart of a lot of my recent thinking about what I'm going to do or not do in my music career. If the world becomes a place where I can no longer charge for recordings I make, can I continue to afford to make them (at least, the way I have been these last six years)? If the only way to make a living as a musician becomes live performance, is that still something I'm interested in pursuing? Right now, I don't have to make these decisions. But it seems that whether or I'm ready or not, there will come a day when there's no longer any other way to ignore them.

But it used to be, for a good stretch of years, that I'd see about two movies per weekend, and sometimes I'd see another during the week. A lot of times, they'd be late, late showings, and I'd get the urge to run out the door at 10 PM in a mad dash to get to Redmond or Issaquah or Bellevue or maybe even Seattle to catch the last showing of Movie X. I just don't do that anymore. Partly it's because I try to get up earlier in the morning, and thus must turn in ever earlier to make that tactic possible.

But I used to see everything... every blockbuster that got at least a 2.5 star average review. I very much don't do that anymore. I keep my eyes peeled on what's playing every weekend for midnight shows at the Egyptian, watching for classics I've never seen projected... next weekend A Clockwork Orange is playing, and I will HAVE to make one of those screenings.

And I also try to make sure to support controversial films when they arrive... like I went to see The Brown Bunny last year when it came out, just to see if all the whoop-doop-de-do about it was worth it; it wasn't a horrible movie, but everyone pretty much went to it to see THE SCENE, you know what I mean, and yep, that there was the Real McCoy, yes sir. Movies like that which involve sex in such a fashion don't bother me at all; in fact, I'm here to tell ya that I'd encourage filmmakers in such pursuits if they were inclined to care what I think. Where I personally get wigged out is when there's extreme violence.

I went to Irreversible a coupla years back, knowing what I was getting into. I'd read a whole buncha articles about the movie, all of which were concerned (in varying degrees of hysteria) about two very disturbing and violent sequences. It was a "controversial" film, and so very much the sort of movie I want to support. Reading the descriptions of the violent scenes made me queasy, though, and I grappled with the idea of actually sitting through the flick. In the end, neither of the scenes were quite as bad as I could imagine (the murder scene just looked really fake, and the rape sequence actually had a moment that I consider profound), and the movie just wasn't all that great. I could admire the sentiment behind the film more than I could admire the film itself. Would I watch it again? Maybe. Did I enjoy it the first time? Not really.

So now there's a Korean film about to get released in the US that is stirring up my inner dialogue once again. The movie is called Oldboy and first started causing a stir last year on the festival circuit. It opens in New York and LA this week, and next week starts hitting other urban areas. I'm guessing it will make it to at least one Seattle theater.

The movie is getting raves. Ebert gave it four stars. It's being called the best thriller in a generation. There's rumors of an American remake being put into the production pipeline in Hollywood. It also has several "controversial" scenes in it - and if they were about sex, I'd have no issues whatsoever. Unfortunately, they are violent - and in one case have live animals being killed (which wasn't faked, it's the real thing). Now, it's not puppies or kittens or anything - the animals in question are octopuses (octopi?). There's a scene where a live octopus is eaten.

There are a lot of things I will defend for art's sake - but I would draw a very big line at any creature or person being actually harmed. When I heard about this scene, when I heard the director, after winning a big award (I think at Sundance) actually thanked the octopuses for losing their lives for the movie, I had to think long and hard about whether I could make it through this film. Let's not forget scenes of teeth being pulled via the claw end of a hammer, by the way (though according to reviews, the director cuts away without actually showing this).

My favorite AICN writer Moriarty published an article this week telling everyone to go see Oldboy. So I sent him an email, detailing my concerns about the "octopus eating" scene. I was somewhat surprised to get a near-immediate reply. Here's what he said:

"It's a hard image, but in this case, this is a sushi restaurant. These animals are kept alive in tanks until they are brought out and prepared in front of the customers. The introduction of a camera into that setting doesn't seem the same to me as setting a dog on fire. I know it's a matter of degrees, but I think degrees can count."

That does give me some more context. They just filmed something here that happens every day in restaurants like the one in the movie. I'm sure plenty of octopuses got their heads bitten off by happy Asian diners somewhere in the world today.

I still haven't figured out if that means if I can go see this movie with a clear conscience though.

If you want a copy, shoot me a mail, I'll send ya one.

I was walking home to the baby sitter's (Joanne) house after school. It must have been kindergarten, because I was bussed to first grade, so it would make me around five. As I often was (and still often am), I was lost in my own little world as I trudged home. The memory feels like it happened in the autumn, but honestly I can't be very sure. The reason I think it was late in the year is I think I had some sort of jacket on.

Lost in a reverie, eyes following my footsteps on the sidewalk. I'm not hurrying to the baby sitter's. I'm taking my own sweet time.

Suddenly, I notice that in my lower-central peripheral vision, I can see my nose. Not all that clearly - but it's right there, actually, two of them, in that weird optical illusion you get because of how your eyes are placed in relation to the rest of your face. Pop! There's my nose - and I'm out of my daydream, and seeing my nose is to blame. I continue to walk along, but now my goal is to not see my nose, but it's right there, and now that I'm aware of it, I can't help but keep coming back to it. But I don't want to see it! I want my clear field of view, unobscured by this pesky intruder! But it's too late - I can't unsee my nose now that I've noticed it. I continue my walk, but now I'm upset. I think I recall trying to relay this story to Joanne when I finally arrived at her house; I also recall her looking at me like I'm a three-headed talking mongoose.

I'm pretty sure this happened to me almost exactly as I've described. I may not be five anymore, but these kinds of things still happen to me. I'm beginning to realize that I haven't changed all that much in thirty years.

Interesting listening: Do you like Self? Do you like old Tool? Well, the original bassist from Tool, Paul D'Amour has released an EP for his solo project under the moniker Feersum Ennjin. Recording the project, and also playing on nearly every track is Self wunderkind Matt Mahaffey. It's five tracks of pretty cool heavy rock, with hints of Tool-style proggishness and excellent production values. You can go get the EP over here.

EDIT: Pete and Lizzy have started their own session diaries, here and here.

• caught up on my Tivo. I was behind one episode of Carnivale and there was a new Daily Show to take in as well.


• watched some more episodes from Season 1 of Deadwood on DVD. Holy cow, what a fantastic show! My dad was turned off by the constant profanity (especially the near-poetic use of the word "cocksucker"), but man, if you can get past that, it's so awesome! I can't believe what happened at the end of Ep 4! The Death Star blew up and everything!


• performed some various and sundry forms of system maintenance on my PCs. This is less exciting, I know.


• went for a walk along the Snoqualmie Parkway at 2:30 AM, enjoying myself immensely as I:


• listened to groovy tunes on my impossibly cool new iPod Shuffle.

Yep, that's a week before it opens all over the freakin' planet.

I can't pretend that the last Star Wars film to be made doesn't mean anything to me, regardless of how I feel about the three most recent installments in the series.

Please don't blow this one, George.

To me, this is nothing short of tragedy. Self has made nothing but irresistably catchy "pop for muzos" for many years now, and hasn't released a new full-length album since 2000's Gizmodgery. There's a coupla sites out there for Self fans, Selfies for fan stuff like forums and whatnot, and then the "official" site, _selfmusic.net. Occasionally I'd visit the forum in the hope of finding some good O&C news, to no avail. However, the other day I went to the _selfmusic site for the first time in a very long while, and found that since the last time I'd been there, no less than seventeen streaming B-sides had been added (including the hilarious "No More B-Sides" ditty currently greeting site visitors). So, the other day I took a little time and digital elbow grease, and lo, in nearly no time at all I had myself a brand-new CD of 17 new Self tracks totaling over 51 minutes in length. OK, they're B-sides, but many Self B-sides are in my opinion just as good, if not better, than many of their "proper album tracks."

Having this disc doesn't quite numb the sting of my O&C loss, but it helps.