Margot and the Nuclear So and So's

from Rock Music Review (www.rockmusicreview.com)

Margot and the Nuclear So and So’s (website / MySpace)
The Dust of Retreat (2005)
Reviewed by Andrew Malott (link)

Indiana’s best kept secret is quickly becoming a household name. Margot and the Nuclear So and So’s have been touring like crazy, getting airplay across the pond (they recently had a song featured on a BBC special), talking with record labels in New York, and even finding time to work on a new album. While their live show is nothing short of amazing, their fast route to success is closely tied with the extremely professional and enjoyable quality of their debut album The Dust of Retreat.

Margot and the Nuclear So and So’s deftly combine sounds of folky acoustic guitar, driving electric guitar, smooth cello, and catchy piano to create a wonderfully unique sound. Singer/songwriter Richard Edwards, formerly of the band Archer Avenue, continues his trend of unbeatable vocal melodies paired with poignant lyrics. While Archer Avenue’s album I Was an Astronaut will break your heart if it’s not already broken, Margot’s Dust will make you realize that there are more beautiful things in life to be concerned with than love. Themes like the bitterness of life and loss of childhood innocence are prominent throughout, but instead of drowning in minor keys and drop-tuned guitars, Richard leans toward the more subdued, introspective end of the spectrum. Rather than wallow in the sadness, he finds beauty in the grays and browns of urban life.

The first two tracks “A Sea Chanty of Sorts” and “On a Freezing Chicago Street” pass by without a big, catchy chorus, but they are no less important in their own right, nor are they altogether without any hooks to speak of. Both are exemplary of Richard’s uncanny ability to write songs that are catchy and undeniably pop, but unique enough to be called indie. The fourth track “Quiet as a Mouse” stands out in that it is the only song on the album to feature a truly rocking chorus. Distorted power chords and soaring vocal melodies are a nod back to Richard’s days with Archer Avenue. You’ll be humming it for weeks.

Songs like “Jen Is Bringin’ the Drugs” and “A Light on a Hill” are wonderful showcases for Richard’s singer/songwriter roots. With lyrics like “Love is an inkless pen / It’s a tavern, it’s sin / It’s a horrible way to begin,” he’s no stranger to the loved-and-lost formula, but he avoids it and only hints at subjects other singers might have come right out and said. Richard’s use of metaphor is both highly romanticized and mysterious; he leaves out the details for the listener to fill in. On “Vampires in Blue Dresses,” “Barfight Revolution / Power Violence,” and “Skeleton Key,” the band really gets a chance to have some fun; they serve as a great contrast to the quieter, pensive mood of some of the other tracks like “Dress Me Like a Clown” and “Talking in Code.” With jingling bells and a sweet, descending piano melody, the final song “Bookworm” brings the album to a satisfying close.

Technically, the album represents a watermark for producer Tyler Watkins, who is also the bassist of the band. Every track is easy to listen to with an even frequency spectrum and balanced highs and lows. The loud parts are loud and rocking, while the softer parts have just the right amount of compression to bring out the intricacies of the performance while still retaining enough dynamic sway. Tyler worked well with the band, filling in each song with a fitting arrangement, dense and active on “Barfight Revolution” yet sparse and gentle on “Dress Me Like a Clown.” A few detractions prevent this album from scoring slightly higher: the abundant room reverb on the trumpet in “Quiet as a Mouse” and the dry vocal overdubs on “A Light on a Hill,” both of which may have just been creative decisions but ultimately sound awkward and terribly out of place.

The talented musicians of Margot and the Nuclear So and So’s have a bright future ahead of them with a great debut album to boot. It will be a shame if future listeners, lured in by the band’s ever increasing popularity, never have the pleasure of hearing this album. It will be an even bigger shame if the band’s sound is waxed over by the suits of the recording industry in hopes of making even more money. Hopefully Richard and the band have enough wits about them to keep their musical integrity in highest priority as they start to show up on the big scene.

9.0 / 10.0

The precise reason that religion is bullocks

Recently, the Catholic church has been debating the possibility of doing away with the concept of limbo. For the uninitiated, this is the realm in which unbaptized but innocent souls (like babies or those who lived before Jesus did his thing) go when they die; not quite heaven and not quite hell. Its etymology is of Latin descent, from limbus, and it originally meant the border of hell. This was a great concept to sedate the minds of the earthly survivors, who feared that their lost loved ones were suffering in an eternal sea of fire.

Now it seems that this age-old theory is about to be debunked -- by the same group of people who devised it centuries ago. The good ol' boys of the Catholic church have been gathering up in their tree house to determine what to do about the situation. Their former ring leader Pope John Paul even expressed his own desire to remove the concept of limbo from the church before he died. What's going to replace it? Maybe babies who die during childbirth do go to hell.

The fact that these guys can just decide to do away with a concept like, oh, where someone's soul goes when he or she dies, is just the kind of thing that helps shatter the very foundation of their credibility. If there is a god, he's probably looking on and laughing at all of his silly little Catholics, rewriting this and modifying that until life is easy to live again. It's a simple fact that times change and so do standards; thankfully, the Bible changes too. I'm sure if you wait around long enough, it will eventually change enough to fit your standards too. That seems to have been the motto of any significant church movement in recorded history: Don't like what they teach? Rewrite it.

Remember that election a year ago, when a country's faith in a presidential candidate was shaken because of an indecisive streak? The church is no different, except it's been changing its mind for almost two thousand years. How can something be true if all it takes is a meeting with couple of stodgy old guys to change it every now and then on a whim?

If next year they claimed that hell doesn't exist, would Catholics the world over believe and accept it?

http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20051130/od_nm/pope_limbo_dc

A practical application of mutual incurred loss in a spatial, finite distribution

If two bodies are separated by a distance X, let X be divided into any number of finite segments such that X = A + B + C + ... + N, for which all values are positive, rational numbers. If X > 0, both parties suffer the mutual incurred loss of the 'Equal but Opposite Bodies' theorem, as outlined here by the author on 15 February 2005. Furthermore, let T = time of separation between bodies. The mutual incurred loss will be proportional to (X + T)².

Financial concerns

Greetings Cradle-goers,

It's been over half a year since we last talked but something's come to my attention that I'd like to bring up. Below you see what appears to be an innocent person carrying an inconspicuous book on a nondescript street.



Click for full size
If you look closer, however, you'll find out that there's much more to the scene than you thought. This poor individual has been the victim of an unfortunate agenda to rid the contents of his wallet and bank account. At a cursory glance, you might be tempted to believe that he is of lower-middle class status, perhaps a college student getting by on minimum wage and federal grants. Let your eyes wander to the bottom and you will observe what appear to be descriptions and prices of various clothing garments, all of which adorn our street-crossing urchin. It is at this point that you will make the horrifying discovery that he is actually filthy rich and has spent in excess of $300 on pants. Jeans. Denim.

His entire outfit costs $484, not including the "vintage hat and scarf," which are listed as not available. What? Is that the only item that Urban Outfitters hasn't bought from Goodwill and then marked up the price 100 times higher? I've got a pair of corduroys with frayed edges, ripped hems, and a hole in the pocket, and you can buy them from me for $300. No wait, $150. Actually, I think I won't sell them; I've had them for over 4 years and I enjoy wearing them. So if you want to look as cool as me, you're going to have to do what this poor bastard did: spend nearly two weeks' pay on a pair of dingy pants.

Tune in next time to see if he makes it across the street. I'm hoping he doesn't.

On the ridiculousness of modern Christianity

Terri Shiavo. This has already been talked to death, so I'll keep it short. A person who is on the brink of death for fifteen years is artificially kept alive. That sounds natural. Let's assume God exists for the sake of argument (but let's forego the capitalization of pronouns for simplicity). I'm sure he didn't intend for his little creations to be unnaturally held in an incompetent stasis for over a decade. Death is as much a part of life as birth is. If this woman was supposed to die fifteen years ago, it's not up to us to hold her forever in this world as nothing more than a breathing corpse. And what do the religious extremists care? It's only slightly ironic that the ones who actually believe in eternal afterlife and undying love from the creator are the ones who are raising such a fuss over supposedly releasing this woman into that bliss.

Metropolis (new music)

I haven't got much to post lately. Here's a song I wrote recently (with a little help from Dan on a couple lines). Listen to it here (with a little help from Greg on the guitar part at the bridge).

"Metropolis"

I know that you're up there
I'm up there too
And that's where I'll stay
If it's alright with you

I'm floating on the air
We move from place to place
As you sleep the day away
Try to keep a little faith in me and you

If that's okay with you, I'll stay

If you go, don't leave me here
Cuz this city is being overrun by
Businessmen in Cadillacs
Singing songs about drawing up a contract

You're laying in the yard
With your head up in the sky
Playing seventh chords
Dreaming of July

You're taking this too hard
But still you count the days
And the things we can't afford
And the things I couldn't say to you

If that's okay with you, I'll stay

If you go, don't leave me here
Cuz this city is being overrun by
Businessmen in Cadillacs
Singing songs about drawing up a contract

Philosophical musings, II

This is the cause of that unfortunate envy which so many people feel for the lives of others. Looking at them from the outside, one imparts to them a coherence and a unity which in reality they cannot have, but which appears obvious to the observer. The latter sees only the framework of these lives, ignoring the worms which gnaw it away. Thus we turn the lives of others into a work of art. We turn them into a romance.

-Albert Camus, L'homme révolté

The Dark Knight

I suspect we've all made this joke at one point or another in our lives.



The Dark Knight

The Tale of the Bat, V

5. Of the Journey Home

The next day dawned fair and sweet. The pallid greys of winter were rolled back to reveal a joyous song of colour and light. High above the sun smiled upon all the lands, and a new season was begun. The men of Jonas walked at ease through fields and woods and pastures and hills. They came at last to the Realm of Jonas.

"O, fair Paddington!" cried Drew and he fell to his knees and wept. The House of Jonas stood tall and mighty, unsoiled by the chill of winter. They entered into the great halls and there came the sound of laughter and merrymaking; it was a feast, a celebration.

"Hark to the sounds of fair voices and singing, such as I have not heard for an age," said Brian as they walked. They were greeted by a large host of friends and neighbours, and such a multitude had never been gathered before nor was seen thereafter.

After many old friendships were revisited, all were seated round the table and enjoyed a great feast while the men of Jonas recounted their tale. Some of the youngest grew frightened yet listened on in curiosity. The day grew long and many bottles of the finest draught were emptied ere the story was told, and not the smallest detail was left out.

"Alas that such dark times as these should befall us all," said one. "Ah, but for the strength of Jonas we should have been nothing but shadows in our fear," spoke another. A silence fell over the room.

"Then we shall drink to good health!" said Greg after a moment. A shout went up and many glasses were drained. The singing and laughter resumed again.

"It is quite a miracle that we are all of good health indeed!" shouted Dan, and there was another cheer. But Drew did not share in the excitement, though none was the wiser in all the commotion. He looked down at the palm of his hand and for a moment he felt again the pain of fire stretching across his skin. He looked up and saw that Dan had noticed. "Or at least, mostly good health," he said to Drew beneath the roar of the party.

"No, I do not suppose I shall ever be quite the same again," replied Drew. "I can still feel the terrible gaze of the bat from within when I close my eyes. But as much as things have changed, I believe there are some things that shall never change."

And in time the many visitors made their departure, and the House of Jonas carried on much the same as ever before. It was not long ere that realm was once again filled with the joyous sounds of a rocking band comprised of four alpha male specimens, the likes of which no woman has not swooned upon.

Here ends the Tale of the Bat.

The Tale of the Bat, IV

4. Of the Capture of the Beast

It was not long before all store of rations had been consumed. Exhaustion and fatigue caused much delay. "We must have a bit of a break," said Drew, "or I should not live to see the light of another day."

"To call this 'day' would seem a jest," replied Dan. Indeed the skies had grown ever darker as the days passed. The Company had taken to resting at any time, day or night, for day had become a shadow of doubt and night was illuminated in a glow of fear, so that the hours passed in an unrelentless cycle.

In a small clearing of grass surrounded by a field of twig and thatch and a small pool of still water, they rested upon what blankets and cloth they had brought. There was little talk as each weary traveler drifted into uneasy slumber. The dark air creeped closer about them on all sides. They did not sleep long ere all were awoken in a startled fit. The wind was sighing in high whispers, rhythmically pulsing like the gentle droll of the sea. All were silent as the sound grew more intense, until it seemed to each that it came from within their very minds.

There came then a call, which reached out across the skies like deathly cold fingers. The festering beast took wing, and it appeared as though a veil had been drawn about the heavens. A great shadow rolled over the Party, and despair came upon them like a plague. They were quickly scattered as the bat darted among their camp. It reared its hideous muzzle and pierced their minds with merciless eyes.

Now separated by a shout's distance, each drew his weapon and swung blindly in fear at the enemy. Guided by some force unknown, Drew's worthy blade found its way deep into the flesh of the winged creature. The bat cried out in rage but did not halt in its course, borne upon the wind. The hilt of Drew's blade grew very hot then, and he cursed its name.

Dan spied Drew from nearby in his agony. "Drew, release your weapon!" he cried, but his words were of no use. Drew was crouched upon the ground, holding his blade tight against his chest. The smell of burning flesh permeated the air.

"No," he said slowly. "This blade is mine, and I will do with it as I please. I will wield it until the end of time, until all the earth is grown old and dead! I can never let it go!"

Greg appeared behind Drew and struck a blow to his forearm. The sword fell from Drew's burning hand and scorched the ground below. Brian kicked the fiery weapon into the shallow pool; a light smoke hung in the air. Drew looked about confused. "I am sorry," he said. "I was not myself for a moment."

"Indeed you were not," replied Dan. "But now is not the time for explanations. The winged enemy returns!" Together they spun and faced the looming evil.

"Clearly we cannot hope to defeat this thing with even the sharpest blade, such as we have," spoke Brian. He stooped over his pack and removed from it a broad cloak. "Let each man take firm hold of one corner."

And so the bat raced towards them, cackling and screeching in a wretched tongue. Its fiery eyes pierced each of their minds, one by one, and cast into them visions of agony and death, but the men of Jonas held fast. When the bat was near, they raised up the cloak and, billowing in the wind, it cast a great shadow upon the bat. Swiftly they brought the corners round and drew them tight about the bat.

"Alas!" shouted Greg. "The deed is done." He held the cloak aloft and each man of Jonas tied about it a length of rope. "The earth shall have grown old indeed ere these bonds are broken."

They gathered what was left of their belongings scattered throughout the clearing and departed that dark realm.

The Tale of the Bat, III

3. Of the Quest of Jonas

The journey across many lands unknown was long and difficult. The supply of food they had rationed for the trip diminished with each passing day. Little life there was, and less water. Occasionally a meal was made of root or blossom and the sap of a young tree not yet stained by the muddy, ageless skies.

"The lands are crying out," uttered Dan. "We are near to the creature." Indeed then, as if by fate, the woods about them grew silent. The air grew dense in anticipation. Nearby a bush rustled, disturbing the tense calm about the land.

"Show yourself, thing of evil, for you make enough sound that I should slay you swiftly with naught the sight of you!" cried Drew into the unavailing silence. There came a laughter, hearty and merry.

"You should be so lucky to have a swing at me at all." Out from behind a tree stepped Brian. The others surrounded him joyfully, and they embraced, and all were comforted.

"What good fortune brings you hither into our travels, friend?" asked Dan.

"I have come by news of ill tidings in these parts," answered Brian. "They speak of a lingering darkness, one which circles round in the night, first high and then lower, until even the haughty man is stricken with fear, and he of lesser stature flees in shame."

"Your words ring true, for I have seen this thing with my own eyes." Greg seemed to diminish and his voice was but a whisper in the vastness of the green land.

"What hope have we in such dark times?" wondered Drew aloud. "Such devilry as this cannot be matched by mortal means. Perhaps we have come to the end of our days."

"You speak as one who is already defeated," spoke Brian. "It is perhaps then because fear has clouded your judgement. Who indeed can withstand the might of this terrible bane? No man can contest its wicked strength, yet look not past strength in bonds of friendship forged long ago. You may find some strength unknown, some hope renewed. We go now not on any simple errand, but on a journey of pain and struggle. The despair of one shall be the doom of all; let he who doubts the power of Jonas go no further!"

At this, the Company set out into the deepening night with heavy hearts.

The Tale of the Bat, II

2. Of the Mustering of Men

Far off in another land, the lore of which this tale does not mention, Drew rested upon his mighty throne and there sat, as one in thought, and did not move for many an hour. An open book lay upon his lap and but for the gleam in his eye he could have been mistaken for one who had fallen mistakenly to slumber. But he was not asleep, and he heard far off cries as of one in dire need of service, for hearty was the voice of Greg, and far did it travel in time of need.

Now with great haste he went to meet his ally of old at the entry of his realm. It seemed to Drew that Greg was clothed in a shadow of himself, stricken with madness at the sight of some horror unknown. Thus spoke Greg:

"Holy shit," said he, "there is a bat in the kitchen."

And Drew was troubled. Long he thought and spoke not a word, and ere the suns retired beyond the western hills he broke his silence. "Let's get Dan!" he cried, and swiftly they rode beyond the wooded hills to the very ends of the earth, whereupon they rested for a time.

When the day was again fresh, Greg and Drew made entry into the halls of Sir Dan of Yore, wisest of loremasters. His lands are forever chill to the skin of men, and upon his throne they spied him wrapped about in many layers of cloth and raiment.

"Old friends, what brings you to far away lands in such dark times as these?" The voice of Dan seemed not his own, but as of one who has lost countless years to the unavailing cold of night.

"We come seeking your favour," answered Greg. "We seek counsel and aide." He bowed low and offered words of respect.

"Yes, I know. Much I have already seen in this matter, and yet much there is which remains unknown to even those who know very much. I will aide you in your quest." Greg and Drew were happy to receive this news and their hearts were glad. Dan continued:

"But we three alone do not possess such mortal power and strength as will be required to accomplish this task. Indeed, no man alone can slay this creature by swift blade or keen wit. We must seek good fortune in a man whose name is remembered by no one save the eldest, but who is called Brian in our speech."

"You speak wisdom and truth," declared Drew. "But few have seen or received word of Brian since this dark age began. His land is far and unreachable by foot or by sail."

"Then we must carry on with what strength we do have," said Greg. "What we lack in numbers we must make up for in skill and cunning."

They spoke no more of the matter but stayed in Dan's realm for a brief while, and when they were again of hearty mind and body they departed.

The Tale of the Bat, I

The Tale of the Bat or:
How the Entire World Was Saved In The Span of 15 Minutes

1. Of the Coming of The Beast

This is the tale of how a peaceful, rocking household was once disrupted by the most malicious and evil of all creatures. It begins as a summer day is drawing to a close, when the air is yet warm and thick. The heroes of our story are those of the band Jonas, though you will come to know them by name.

In the beginning, there was Greg, and fast he slept in his private chambers in the Realm of Jonas. Ere he slept, he was troubled by an unseen spectre in the cloudiness of that which rocking guitar players dream of. Startled, he awoke in a sweat, and made his way clumsily in the dark, for he purposed to relieve himself in his private chambers.

But he did not wholly come to his destination, for along his path he descried from afar the flutterings of a winged creature of foul design. Quickly it darted to and fro, hither and thither, this way and that. Then it seemed to Greg that this creature was not like to anything he had thus seen in his realm:

Black as night it was, and colder still; its eyes were diminutive lamps, far off in the murky dusk. Swiftly it moved across the kitchen, for that is where it had been making its hiding, and perched confidently upon the water tap, and the gleaming silver was cast in a deepening twilight as all the room around it.

Cautiously, Greg moved closer to investigate this unwanted visitor. At this the beast reared its ugly shape and called out in a manner of song most unpleasant to those within earshot. Thus with great speed Greg passed out of that domain and sought the help of friend and ally.

'Equal But Opposite Bodies' Theorem

If two equal but opposite bodies do not engage in mutual activity, the sum of their incurred losses is equal. Furthermore, if one body attempts to engage in mutual activity with an equal and opposite body and is denied, the sum of loss for both bodies will be incurred by the first body exclusively.

See also 'Law of Rejection Conservation'.

Downtown

I know a man by the name of Casey Brown. He's an English major at IU. Maybe he should change his major to art. Judge for yourself:



Click for full size


Click for full size

Three Lights

I walked into a room
I turned on three lights
Each was connected to the next
And each was connected to a single switch.
The darkness of the room held fast
Against the will of the lights
It whispered faintly in response
To the protests of the gleam
Wrought of solidarity.

I walked into a room
I turned on three lights
And each was connected to the next.
The walls recoiled in agitation
Earthen hues and pallid texture
Ached to elude the song of luster
Dense shades of darkness breathed
Lightly into thirsty widths
Gaping, reaching, grasping.

I walked into a room
And I turned on three lights.
The ceiling sighed beneath its weight
Borne upon its ageless spans
Wisdom sang and bent the darkness
And carried with it elegance
Symmetry and consonance
A symphony of common hues
And each was connected to the next.

Corollary #1

For years uncounted, scientists have pondered the many mysteries of the vast universe in which we live. From simple origins to complex geometry, no caveat has gone overlooked in the neverending quest for knowledge. In light of my previous post, in which I described to the reader the supra-intellectual state one may achieve upon thorough understanding and absorption of Drew's Universal Theory of Relativity, I now present a practical application of said theorem: a true to life vector imaging spectral analysis of the geometric makeup of the galaxy at large. In an attempt to communicate in the most basic terms what is essentially an incredibly complex subject, a simplified model has been employed.




Click for full size
It is not yet known how this newly accepted model will integrate with pre-existing theories regarding higher level string theory and interdimensional wormhole function.

Mathematics a la mode

Several years ago, I made a startling discovery. There it was, resting before my eyes, waiting like fruit, succulent and ripe, to be plucked from the boughs above: a simple, elegant mathematical equation. So elementary and yet so deceptively complex was its composition that to know it and understand it placed my mind in a state of awareness, which was to my previous state as the waking state is to the dreaming state. It is presented in its original form with no alterations.




Click for full size

Please update all textbooks accordingly.

Science is actually cool

And here is the proof.




http://www.its.caltech.edu/~atomic/snowcrystals/photos/photos.htm

So quit stepping on them and eating them and building phallic statues out of them.

Artistic visionary

I once went to high school with a man by the name of Brian Berg. Everyone just calls him Bergy. Bergy is probably the funniest guy I have ever known, and here's why: he will often begin to speak without first considering his words as an entire sentence.¹ This has led to some of the funniest things I have ever heard uttered by another human being. I offer the following as testament to this fact:

"I'm hungry. Such as five cheeseburgers."

"I should cut off my arm and sell it to the British army."

"I coulda did it but I didn't did it."

"Okay, back to me having now to go up there."

"We have a guy lunch lady today.

In addition to the spoken word, Bergy is a refined master of the visual arts. I present two samples of his lunchtime napkin explorations (click for full size):

The Bunny


The Embodiment of Evil

These artifacts have survived four years in the murky depths of my wallet and have remained relatively intact. This is nothing short of a miracle, as it is common knowledge that high school cafeteria napkins are considerably less than high grade stock. The third sample, Captain Inertia, has been lost for several years now and will probably never surface again. Here now can we reflect upon these great works until the end of time, where in the digital realm they will persevere unscathed by nature's cruel torment of friction and moisture.

---

¹ Bergy is actually a very smart guy. He is an accounting major at Ball State University and he will own anyone in poker or lacrosse.

Philosophical musings, I

Scribbled in my philosophy 100 notebook...

Sartre calls anguish the weight of man's decision making. I extend this to say that anguish is man's overestimation of his importance in the grand scheme of things (i.e. eternity). Anguish is the necessary element to motivate man to make decisions. If 10 men die, it is insignificant; but if 10 men die as a result of man's decision, or if man's decision could have prevented these deaths, or if man's decision caused the deaths, and so on, then he believes his choices to be significant. This illusion is anguish.

---

"A whole train of passengers (individually brave enough), will be looted by a few highwaymen, simply because the latter can count on one another, while each passenger fears that if he makes a movement of resistance, he will be shot before anyone else backs him up."

-William James, The Will to Believe

Snowfall

A snowfall begins to envelop the city. The stars gracefully tumble towards the ground below. Dim light from the street lamps is swept up in the intricate dance of the falling snow. A young couple is briskly walking alongside the closed shops and diners. They are tightly bundled, and as they walk towards their destination, the remnants of their breath float lightly in the air behind them. A solitary oak tree, disrobed by the changing seasons, sways beyond its control in the growing winter winds.

How not to use the English language

The following was found on the floor of my chorus room in senior year of high school (so that would be either 2001 or 2002, I'm not really sure). I don't really know who wrote it or what class it was for, but I do know one thing: it is hilarious. It is presented here in full, word for word (verbatim), from the original (including spelling, grammatical, and other errors). It's been sitting in the same red folder for three years, but now it's time for the official public offering of...

Luke Skywalker- a true epic hero

Have you ever believed in real heroes? believe there are still some true heroes out there today. for example, i think Luke Skywalker from the movie Star Wars, a movie set in space and other strange planets, is a real hero. The movies are about the journey of Luke Skywalker, a young jedi that is looking for clues about his past and information about his father. During his journey he runs into all sorts of trouble. He has to fight monsters , robots and even his own father. He has to decide between right and wrong decisions, fight against the evil. Different people and monsters help Luke skywalker become and learn about being a true jedi master.

I believe that LukeSkywalker is a true epic hero. He has all the traits that other epic heroes have. Luke Skywalker is a wandering hero. He has been searching for his father and who he really is, he has never met him before. He is also searching for his past, where he was born, who was his father, what was he like and all his other childhood memories, Luke Skywalker also have many other friends that help him get through the journey ,this shows that he is loyal to his friends and partners. That is another trait of an epic hero.

Another trait for an epic hero is courage,and Luke Skywalker has a lot of that.He battles monsters in space, he has to go to the Death Star and save the princess, named Princess Leah. Luke also has to fights robots many times the size of him, not one, but a whole arm of them. He has to beat big fat monsters in order to continue his journey. He even has to fight his own father. At one point Luke Skywalker gets his arm cut off from a light saber and has to hand on this ledge, if not he will die, this shows great strength and determination. Another example of courage is when Luke Skywalker helped save the forest with the little furball animals. The furballs lived in the forest, and the enemies tried to take it over. Luke Skywalker was helped by hans solo, r2 d2, and 3 cpo, r2 d2 helps Luke Skywalker and Hans Solo with opening doors which are locked by tight security. The other robot always complains about getting caught and getting killed, he never helps out. Luke Skywalker and his friends get chases through the forest by the other enemy, they race through the forest and the little furball monsters set up traps to help Luke and his friends. They shoot lasers and bullets at the other planes and by time the chase is over most of the enemy army is dead or they lost Luke Skywalker and his other friends.

So I think these are the reasons that Luke Skywalker is a true epic hero. He has courage, determination, he is looking for something and in some cases he is larger then life. That is way i believe Luke Skywalker is a great epic hero

I'm just an ordinary guy with nothing to lose

Are you Kevin Spacey? On one hand that could be cool, cuz you'd be Kevin Spacey. On the other hand that wouldn't be cool cuz then who would be you? Would there even be a you, would you still be as cool as you, and would I even know you? If we're assuming you're Kevin Spacey, can we not also assume that you live Kevin Spacey's life, and not the other way around? If you were Kevin Spacey living your life, then the Kevin Spaceyness that makes him Kevin Spacey would be lost. Of course, we are assuming that determinism is nonexistent and that our two personas are not predetermined to come into contact in any form and that it's purely coincidental. That leaves the possibility open that I could one day meet Kevin Spacey and think back to this conversation and wonder if I would have still met you, had you actually been Kevin Spacey, since I would be talking to Kevin Spacey himself at the time. And that could have been you, and I never would have known.

In case you didn't already know

This is the greatest creation in the history of civilization.




Click for full size

Every minute you spend not eating it is a minute of your life that has been utterly wasted.

Dare to do the deed

Blog.

Humans all over the world are sitting down at their computers and frantically typing their fingers away in an attempt to tell us about their lives. Some are funny, some are sad, some are boring, and some are flippin' sweet.

I've spent the last several years of my life keeping my dislike of blogs no small secret. But I've got a confession to make: I read them. I don't know why, but I do. Whether it's to find out what color his bathroom is now, or what she had for breakfast, or what music you currently dig, I keep finding myself following the link to your blogs.

Those of you who are naysayers will probably pose the question, "What the hell? You are a hypocrite and a poseur." I concede the fact, and offer the following rebuttle: oh well.

It breaks down like this. I don't actually want to tell you what happened in class today, or what music I listened to while I did my homework, or what cereal I ate this morning (it was Honey Nut Toasty O's!). I'm not even entirely sure what I'll use it for, but I know this much: it will be interesting. If something is not interesting, then call me out and say "hey this frikking sucks, get a life!" or something to that effect. Believe me, I'm self-aware enough to be conscious of the ridiculousness of someone like me starting a "blog," but let's work together and see if it can be used for the good of mankind.