blackeye

I passed my math class. It feels pretty good too considering I've taken it two other times unsuccessfully. And to tell you the truth, I think this time might have been the breaking point. One, being it was the last chance I had to take Math 51 at Mt. Sac without getting barred from the Math department and two, it's hard to keep taking a class you constantly fail. So there's a sparkle of hope at the end of this dark dark tunnel I call Mt. Sac.

I got hit in the eye by my surfboard a couple days ago. I'm thankful I didn't lose my eye.


I wont be going back home to Mom and Bill's for Christmas as I'm sure I've already told you. I didn't get my DO request in early enough and all of my coworkers filled up Christmas Eve and the day after. And even though I haven't worked a Monday or a Wednesday since before fall semester started, I'll be working those days next week. Kind of a bummer. But I have absolutely no money right now for gas and my truck is back to running like crap. So I'm sorry. I have presents and I'll try to get them mailed out asap.

We're not gonna make it, are we?

I'm not sure if you've heard about the new series they're making called Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles. I saw a poster for it on the side of a bus last week and that was the first I had heard of it. The show doesn't air until the end of January I think, but I found the pilot episode online if you want to see it. I have a lot to rant about, but it really just boils down to this:
Think Terminator 2 meets 24... That and Terminators shouldn't flirt or bat their eyelashes.
That's all I really have to say about it for now. I've watched it twice today already and I'm thinking about plugging my cable box back into my TV and requesting Terminator nights off of work so I can watch it.

CLICK HERE TO WATCH THE FULL PILOT EPISODE


It was great seeing you guys last weekend. I'll find out my schedule for next week on thursday. Right now, I'm working every day this weekend.

Did you check if they were plugged in?

Hey you guys, sorry for the delay. It's been an eclectic mix of trying to study for finals, late shifts at Applebees, surfing at five am, putting Christmas lights up all night and beyond down here. Sorry, I'll expand on it a little.

I helped put Christmas lights up at Applebees after work a week or so ago. Only it took all night. We all left at about seven in the morning. I was in charge of the staple gun I brought. It probably wouldn't have taken as long if we didn't bring alcohol. But nevertheless, it looks good and I didn't staple my hand to the restaurant.
I also, decided to put up Christmas lights at home a couple nights before the Applebees event with the help of my coworker Becky. After a few beers though, I sent a staple through the wire of the second to last strand of lights I had put up. So I had to take them all down and start over. My neighbor walked by and asked what I was doing up at four in the morning putting up Christmas lights. My reply? "Learning early in life not to drink and attempt working around the house."

Finals are next week. I have a lot of studying to do. My Admin of Justice class is finished, all I have left is Sociology and Math. Sociology can go kick rocks, I have to pass this math class.

Surf has been sweet down here. We had a big west swell this week that came from Hawaii. A surfer drowned in NorCal but they received 30 foot waves. We only got 10 foot ones. If you paddle out on a 30 foot wave, I think you're just asking for it.

I finished a book. Here's a review on it.


Bluebeard by Kurt Vonnegut
B
My buddy gave me this book for my birthday along with the other Vonnegut book I reviewed earlier. I was interested in reading this one because unlike the other, this one is an actual novel. It's about an old Armenian artist with one eye, one that now collects abstract expressionist paintings and hides the fact that he's an amazing artist from everyone he meets. He inherited a beachside estate in Rhode Island from his late wife while describing his years boozing it up with Jackson Pollack and Terry Kitchen in the local bars, not to mention losing his eye in world war II. A young, pill-popping novelist shows up at his door and convinces him to face why it is that he hides his artistic potential from everyone.
I hate The Great Gatsby. I cant stand reading about the roaring twenties. It's boring. And even though this novel was narrated after-the-matter with bits of the Great Depression in it and contemporary culture, it still felt like I was reading The Great Gatsby. How interesting is it really to read about some shmuck prancing around his waterfront estate in New England, talking about his servants and cooks and taste for all things fancy and proper? None to me. But I'm being too hard on it. This book wasn't completely The Great Gatsby and I think there are a lot of things to take from it that might warrant another read through it from me.
First, I think it being a sign to me or some sort, is the issue of man's ability to create, destroy and hide what he creates from everyone. It's the main premise of the book and I really don't feel like I really comprehended what Vonnegut was trying to say. I think, since I've been working on my novel, it would be optimal that I read through it again to truly comprehend what he was trying to convey. The notion I got was that people tend to believe that what they are capable of is never good enough, so they hide it. Definitely something I've been battling with myself over this novel I have been working on.
Second, Vonnegut has an unparalleled sense of humor in his narrative. Sort of a daffy, old grandfather sort of humor he injects at the last line of every paragraph. The storyline may be dull, but the amusing interjections were enough to get me to finish the book.
I gave this one a B only because I really don't think I've fully grasped Vonnegut's writing style. I know there's good in it but I'm just not seeing it in it's entirety.

So, in regards to Bluebeard, I have decided to throw in an excerpt from my novel, because I've decided to not be afraid of it. A contemporary, semi-fictionalized autobiography not unlike a thousand others that have shown up in the last decade, but I'm convincing myself that this is mine, and mine alone. In this chapter, our hero is only a teenager, I'm sure that you guys can figure it out. The names have yet to be changed, the grammatical errors haven't been fixed. But I thought it would be nice to let you guys know how it's going. It has become a nightly activity within the last four months. Enjoy....

{begin}

Another moment that never left me.

The latest epidemic-turned viral headlines at the time was the coverage of the Asian-born SARS outbreak. Someone in some industry-ransacked part of Asia contracted it, hopped on a plane and flew to the United States, blew his nose in his hand and then touched a doorknob, I think. For the entire duration of SARS-apalooza and the media instigated insanity that followed, people dawned surgical masks, sterile polyurethane gloves and didn’t breathe. I don’t even remember what it was or where it was spreading the fastest, you just knew that it was bad and that somehow, someone, somewhere near you had it. Their eyes would explode out of their orbital lobes like cherry bombs, flames would erupt from their auditory canals, they would vomit poison, soil their pants and die. Or something to that extent I guess. Walnut didn’t miss a second of it and the next day, little Asian women driving giant Mercedes SUVS, brawny construction workers and even a sheriff or two could be seen driving around looking like a dentist.
Adam, Lindsay and I were looking around the garage one afternoon trying to find something or other when we found the package of surgical masks your mother had bought for Adam and I to use while we mowed the lawn. Lawn mowing days back then were the worst, we would end up choking on shaved Cocoa poop and grass clippings for the rest of the afternoon without them. Upon finding them however, next to the gun safe and your father’s tool chest, they dawned a newfound purpose and one that received much rejoice from the three of us: SARS-free Baskin Robbins Ice Cream. Finally!
So Adam, Lindsay and I piled into in my Civic and headed towards the Baskin Robbins next to Renatos, utterly stoked on the freedom to finally enjoy chocolate chip cookie dough and orange sherbet ice cream, clear of any threat of popping our eyeballs and crapping our pants. In the parking lot we dawned our white, paper gas masks and stood at the cash register, snickering and waiting for someone to help us.
“What can I get for you?” Our help was in the form of an elderly Persian woman, completely indifferent to our hilarious little ploy
“Which ice cream doesn’t have SARS?” Adam mumbled, muffled from the mask. We giggled.
“SARS? Ice cream doesn’t have SARS. What do you mean?”
Lindsay piped in, trying not snort, “Are you sure? Anything can have SARS. Its everywhere.”
The woman stood silent, looking at us blankly.
I don’t know what we expected to be so funny about going to Baskin Robbins and asking for SARS free ice cream, but it sounded like a genius idea before-hand. At the moment though, it lost all of its steam until a younger girl working in the back poked her head around the corner and burst into laughter.
“Here, the rocky road is fine. Three?”
“If there’s no SARS in it, please!” I exclaimed, bits of laughter punctuating it.
The younger girl scooped three cones and handed them to Lindsay, the older woman still staring blankly at us. I paid her and there we stood, unmoving next to the cash register with our ice cream cones, trying in vain to eat ice cream with surgical masks covering our mouths. The entire store was silent, staring at the three morons who had just bought SARS-free ice cream.

The next morning I walked across the parking lot to the mathematics building, up the stairs and through campus wearing my SARS mask. Random students laughed and looked puzzled as I walked by and soon enough, I rounded the corner to the side of building B, the English buildings, where our lockers were and where we would hang out in the morning before school. Alex, Devin, Ian, and Eric burst into uncontrollable laughter. Tommy yelled out “What the hell?”
“SAR-ry I’m late you guys.”


{end}

Hope you all have a great week. I'm sorry I have to work all day next Saturday. Hopefully we can work something out.

movie reviews

First off, I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving. I sure did.

I drove out to Las Vegas after my last class on Wednesday night. Traffic was backed up on the 15 up until about midnight so I left shortly after 1am. It was freezing! But I had hot coffee and some tunes and my furry hunting hat so the drive wasn't too bad. It was really nice to be able to spend the day with the family. Their new house is really nice. Plus, dinner was delicious. I think it was the tastiest turkey I've ever had. We watched Live Free or Die Hard and then I headed back home at about 9. I'm thankful for the family I have been blessed with. And a car that didn't blow up on the way to see them. And legs that work to push the gas pedals.

I had a day off today so I woke up late and went to the park to read. Then I treated myself to a matinee over at the theater by APU since it's so cheap. Here is my review on The Mist.

THE MIST
C


If I'm going to watch a horror movie, it must meet one of two requirements:
One, it has to be set in a deserted, foggy, mountain town filled with creepy, symbolism-stuffed monsters lurking around. (I highly attribute this to the videogame Silent Hill 2 that me and Adam played in 2002. Definitely one of the most innovative horror/survival videogames ever to be released and the film adapation Silent Hill that came out last year was right up there with good visuals and haunting atmosphere. I'm a huge fan. The main character of Silent Hill was in The Mist as well.)
Or two, it has to have tons of zombies and lots of explosions and shotguns and a group of people trapped in a house or mall or barn, trying to figure a way out. But as long as it has lots of explosions and zombies and zombies exploding, it's a winner.

When I heard about the film adaptation of Stephen King's The Mist, it seemed like a winner. I'll explain why.
The Mist is about a small town in Maine that becomes enshrouded by a thick, ominous fog. While shopping at the local supermarket, the group of shoppers-turned-survivors learn that monsters lurk within the fog and lock themselves inside the store. The main protagonist is a man named David, who cares for his son, Billy. The premise for the story is how people react and change in times of fear. From initial disbelief, ego-fueled denial and outright despair. The group of shoppers split into two factions. David leads a small group, blindly looking for resonable solutions while the religious zealot, Mrs. Carmody, preaches to her newfound followers about the end of days and human sacrifice. The two finally clash in a semi-predictable fashion and thus begins the climax to the story. Those who wish to stay, stay. Those who wish to escape, escape.
This movie had almost everything going for it. The setting was beautifully rendered. The supermarket was small and believable and the monsters made appearances minimally and tastefully. The violence was gruesome at it's respective moments, but was by no means a gore-fest. The monsters, in the form of a tentacles reaching in through the loading dock's doors, pumpkin sized wasps, giant spiders with acid spiderwebs and a giant lobster the size of the Hindenburgh all felt creepy and ominous. They were rarely seen, only imagined from the front windows of the supermarket, through the fog.
The dialogue felt a little funky at the beginning. Not necessarily forced, just somewhat off. From the religious ramblings of Mrs. Carmody to the self-righteous dissent of David's neighbor, they began a little too forward for the beginning of the movie but as the plot picked up, they fit in nicely. There was one scene in the movie where I actually felt like clapping when a certain antogonist kicked the bucket. Big points if you dislike a character so much you feel the need to applaude when they go.
I gave this movie a C because of it's ending. While I understand that it's sort of an acclamation for directors or screenwriters to push ideas that make distributors uneasy, this one made me want to headbutt a brick wall. I appreciate the artsy "you didn't want it to end this way" conclusions so rampant in many films nowadays, but this one went too far. For me at least. I dont like leaving the movies feeling as bad as I felt tonight when I left. I guess that was the effect that they were trying to get but sometimes I prefer to conclude things with satisfaction. A cheesy, predictable satisfaction over a protagonist's success than just a depressing attempt to spin the audience for a loop. I wouldn't normally divuldge an ending if I didn't think it would depress the crap out of whoever watched it. So unless you're an ultimate fan of foggy, deserted mountain towns, watch something a little more light-hearted than The Mist. It will definitely just bum you out in the end.
+Good visuals
+Abhorrent antagonists (three cheers when they bite it!)
+Strong sense of urgency and seclusion
-Weak main character
-Funky(at times) dialogue
-Horrible ending


LIVE FREE OR DIE HARD
A


If John McClane, the Terminator, Robocop and Chuck Norris went to junior high school together, I'll bet dollars to donuts that ol' Robocop, Chuck and Arnold would be whining daily about not having lunch money, their hair still soggy from swirlies and arms still stinging from indian burns. That's just how badass John McClane is.
Live Free Or Die Hard is about the same as every other Die Hard movie. There are terrorists, there's McClane, and then there's a whole lot of McClane smacking the terrorists around. Theres usually help on the side from Carl Winslow, Sammy L. Jackson or the flamboyantly homosexual flight control operator in Die Hard 2. Sometimes McClane's wife or dog or goldfish or flamboyantly homosexual flight control friend gets kidnapped by said terrorists and he must rescue them along with disarming nuclear weapons, snowmobile pursuits and endless butt-kickin'. But in the end, McClane always says something witty like "Yippee Ki Yay" and saves freedom, albeit a pulsing, bloody stump of a NYPD cop.
This time, however, his help is in the form of Farrell, a nerdy computer hacker played by the kid from the Apple commercials. You know him, the one that gets hit in the crotch about 500 times in the movie Dodgeball. The terrorists? A group of computer hackers who take over NSA and disable all power, financial and transit operations by means of a "Firesale". Sounds cool? It's even better. McClane's daughter is kidnapped and what follows are the usual antics between McClane and his bumbling partner, lots of explosions and of course, lots of dead terrorists.
What I really enjoyed about this movie was how they dealt with John McClane's age after almost two decades of Die Hard movies. The entire plot is internet and computer saavy while McClane, still a working class 80's cop who knows little about technology and wants even less to do with it. Him and Farrell make a great duo together, only rivaled by McClane and Samuel Jackson in Die Hard With A Vengeance. The dialogue is funny, the special effects and action sequences are over the top and fun and it's really good to see McClane still busting heads in the twentyfirst century. The only problem I had with the movie was the main villain. He's portrayed as a cold, young NSA reject by some young actor who looks like every other young actor. I really dont feel he got the degree of butt-whoopin' he deserved for messing with old John. I mean, he was probably only 12 when John was lighting 747s on fire, he should have gotten at least one pinkbelly or a noogie.
I cant stress enough the social issues I see underlying the last two Die Hard movies. Issues in regards to the end of the reformative era of policing. An era that Spence worked in, and one that John McClane depicted as well. A crime fighter, a drunk and someone seperated from society over his career. It was the world against the thin blue line for them and I enjoyed watching how his interactions with Zues (the oppressed black technician from Harlem) and Farrell played out to show law enforcement dealing with the changing of times. In DHWAV, McClane and Zues are at each other's throats for half of the movie over racial stereotypes. Is it any coincidence that the movie was released three years after the LA riots? Or that during production, the scene with McClane wearing the infamous "I hate *epipthet*" sandwich boards in the middle of Harlem was really shot in an entirely different part of NY to prevent a riot? In LFODH, McClane must learn that no matter where he is, he is being watched. It's even stated in the first part of the movie where his captain tells him over the radio that lowjack shows where McClane's squad car is. McClane responds with something to the extent of "I'd have never had those installed". I guess I might be looking too deep into it, but if they were filmed with progressive policing as social underpinnings to their plots, I respect the last two Die Hards as true works of art. If not, I guess a few more noogies would have helped.
+its Die Hard!
+McClane is still the toughest person alive
+cool character relationships
+Reformative to Progressive underlying themes?
+explosions
+more explosions
-no noogies

Stockholm Syndrome

Did any of you see Comet McNaught yet? I was up all night writing a paper on school violence for my community relations class so I stayed up to see if I could check it out. Dad said it would be out at about 3am, near the moon. I didn't see the moon at all last night but at about 3:30 I found what I thought was McNaught. It was right over the hills to the right of our balcony. It was pretty bright and flickering rapidly but not quite like the picture shows. So I don't know.

Speaking of my paper and being up all night, between scouring Mt. Sac's online article database and the internet, my A.D.D. kicked into fifth gear while I was looking through wikipedia. I found an article about the Symbionese Liberation Army and the SLA shootout dad was in back in Newton Division. Dad has told me the story about a hundred times but I've never really grasped how MASSIVE an ordeal that shootout was. It beat Waco, the UT Clocktower sniper and even the North Hollywood Shootout in terms of number of rounds fired. So I spent about a good two hours researching the different members and what happened instead of doing homework. Tonight dad took me out to dinner and I asked him all about it, this time actually understanding the story for what it truly is. I dont know how much you know about it but I'll expand on it a little.

The Symbionese Liberation Army

[Pictured left to right, top to bottom:]
Kathleen Soliah, Nancy Ling Perry, Patricia Soltysik, William Harris, Patricia Hearst, Donald Defreeze, Emily Harris, Angela Atwood, Camilla Hall

Basically(in condensed form), a group of political radicals from the San Francisco area who did a lot of acid, robbed a few banks, shot a school's superintendent, thought they were this revolutionary army and were crazy. They took over a house in Newton Division of Los Angeles and began shooting through the windows. 9,000 rounds were fired, 400 LAPD officers were called in, the house burned down and where was Dad during all of this? Under fire in the backyard hidden in a patch of weeds. When two of the gunwomen charged him and the SWAT officers staged out back, he opened fire with a shotgun.

Camilla Hall

This big momma came out first, with a carbine. She was hit in the forehead and died immediately.

Nancy Ling Perry

She followed Hall, providing suppresive fire throughout the backyard. Upon trying to pull Hall's body back into the crawlspace, she was hit in the lung and spine.

I got a kick out of reading that story and listening to dad talk about it. It really was something. Can you believe that? 9,000 rounds of high powered rifle ammunition fired through a residential neighborhood and no one injured? I don't know. That's something to write home about I think. Made me proud of Dad. Who else has a father who plugged two psychotic, lesbian terrorists in the middle of quite possibly the largest shootout in American history? You've really gotta hear him tell it himself. I think it might be one of his best.

I pinched a nerve or a muscle or something behind my left shoulder while I was sleeping a couple nights ago and it's killing me. I can barely move. It's reminding me of a certain time I twisted my neck when I was younger and was made fun of to no end by my older sister and the Alvarez family.

Good night to you all!

Company provided work attire

Hey you guys, sorry it's taken so long for me to check out your blog. I really enjoyed reading it last night, I went through the whole thing and left comments on older entries. I really like your reviews on movies, I might have to counter with something of the sort. I'm looking forward to much debate over them. I figured it would be more convenient if I switched over to this blogsite because you, Daniel and mom are the only ones who read it and this way we don't have to leave comments anonymously.

I found this video a couple of weeks ago, it cracks me up every time. The cat's mannerisms are spot on. Whoever made it has terrific talent. My favorite part about it are the cat's giant eyeballs and his purring. If you haven't seen it already, enjoy.



Come December 16th, all employees of Applebees are required to purchase new, all-black dress shirts on their own time and with their own money. The red and black polo shirts each employee were given upon being hired will no longer be allowed. This burns me up. What was wrong with our polo shirts? Every employee wore the same one, they looked more uniform than all of us walking around in mismatched and random dress shirts, and they were free. This isn't the first time they've done this either. When football season started, all servers, hosts, and bartenders were required to buy a football jersey to wear on Sundays and Mondays. With their own money as well. I found one for nineteen bucks at TJ Maxx across the street fifteen minutes before work. But this time I wont have it. A thirty dollar dress shirt is a tenth of my paycheck.

So what I did, I took my old, black Barros Pizza polo shirt and colored out the embroidery with a Sharpie. Everytime I go into work, I just pin my "Hello Neighbor! My name is CHAD" button over it and no one's the wiser.

Speaking of Applebee's here are a couple of random facts I have learned about the restaraunt since I began working there.

First, the little packages of Applebees Riblet Wetnaps that are included with messy fingerfoods like buffalo wings or baby back ribs make for optimal toilet paper. When nature calls and I take my ten, I grab a few of them from the expo line and head for the back.

Second, the fattiest part of any salad is predominately it's dressing. The Oriental Chicken Salad is delicious at Applebees, with ramen noodles and walnuts and asian greens, except most people don't realize that the oriental dressing is made out of only chicken fat and sugar. That's it. Chicken fat and sugar.

Third, approximately one fourth of all the employees at our restaraunt (save for the cooks) have at least one D.U.I. A few even have three. Three of my coworkers rely on taking a taxi to get to and from work. And yet they all hang out after work drinking 24 ounce glass after 24 ounce glass and driving home anyways. How does one afford living with two/three D.U.I. convictions hanging over their head? I got slammed with a minor infraction ticket in August for $170 and I'm still trying to make up for it in the ol' savings account. Sure enough, it was on my way to hang out with some of them. I've conveniently flaked every time since then. I'm convinced that Applebee's employees=bad juju.

Here's some reviews on art and literature I've been enjoying this last week or so..

Literature


God Bless You, Dr. Kevorkian by Kurt Vonnegut
B-
My good buddy Brian gave me this book for my birthday last week. He raves about Kurt Vonnegut's work but I've never had the chance to check any of them out. This novel is only about 80 pages long, and is written as a translation from a sequence of radio broadcasts Kurt Vonnegut performed in Texas, from a lethal injection facility. The premise behind the whole novel is that Dr. Kevorkian is performing near death operations on Vonnegut and resuscitating him so that he may speak of who he met at St. Peter's gates. He is never allowed into Heaven. I haven't spent much time researching the novel, I'm not sure if any operations were ever performed but his recounts of meeting James Earl Ray, Sir Isaac Newton and Adolf Hitler are hilarious, often nonsensical and light-heartedly playful. It's a good read if you're bored near a mall and need to kill time at a Borders. I read it in about thirty minutes.


The Gum Thief by Douglas Coupland
C+
I have been following Douglas Coupland's work since I was a junior in high school. I've heard he was the author who coined the term "generation x" and his novels have always held a finger on the pulse of late twentieth century pop culture, always riddled with cynicism. His novels are often set in the British Columbia province or Washington, with characters usually depicting middle class suburbanites. The Gum Thief was an episilatory sequence of letters written between two Staples employees: Roger, a middle-aged, twice divroced alcoholic and his twenty-something year old gothic coworker, Bethany. Interspersed are various letters written between the characters to Roger's ex wife, his daughter Zoe, Beth's mother DeeDee and chapters from Roger's novel Glove Pond. While it's informal structure was fresh, it is something Coupland has touched on many other times, and often, more successfully than in The Gum Thief. While I enjoy his abandonment of formal syntax and oddball storylines, this one didn't resonate as much as some of his earlier work. If you need a place to start with Coupland, I highly recommend the novel Life After God. I recommend it to anyone and everyone. It's short, thought-provoking, concentrated and what I believe as our generation's answer to Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye. Save The Gum Thief for later, after you've developed an appreciation for Coupland's work, it will probably leave a better taste in your mouth.

Audio


The Alchemy Index- Volumes 1 and 2 (Fire and Water) as performed by Thrice
B
When I was in high school, namely a freshman and sophomore, I was nuts for the Irvine-based metal/punk quartet. Their first album, Identity Crisis pushed the limits on local punk and hardcore acts by implementing faster shredding, harmonized riffs and gang vocals. The lyrics were promising and well written. Most of it's songs became anthems among my peers and friends. Some dawned Thrice tattoos, other's began emulating their sound in their own respective bands. Their second release, The Illusion of Safety, abandoned their preliminary punk/up-beat influences in exchange for a heavier, darker and experimental sound. It worked flawlessly. No sooner had people became familiar with Identity Crisis when they were thrown for a loop with TIOS's drastic timing changes, key changes and more poetic rhetoric. Every song sounded orchestrated, rather than mass produced. After TIOS's release, the band went on to sort of, well, lose itself in it's own rhetoric I think. The experimentation and evolution of the band started working backwards, rather than forward. Or maybe I'm just biased. Nevertheless, I sort of renounced my affection for the band and lost interest. When I heard of their latest project, The Alchemy Index, I wrote it off. But I was pleasantly surprised. What it is, it's a compilation of four experimental EP's, each one depicting a specific element: Fire, water, earth and wind. They are sonically supposed to embody each one. The two EP's released last month were Fire and Water. Fire being heavier instrumentations with "searing" guitars and punctuating drums, while Water is characterized by digitally synthesized melodies and flowing rythms. I've paid almost no attention to the Fire EP, but the Water is pure gold. They have done a magnificent job at creating an innovative concept album.


Pennybridge Pioneers as performed by Millencolin
A
Technically, this is a fairly old album. The first time I heard it was my freshman year of high school, Devin and I were nuts over it. But I was listening to my Ipod at school on shuffle and when I heard one of it's songs, I listened to the entire album immediately and felt the need to mention it. I love Millencolin. Their songs are catchy, light-hearted and the vocals are unique. When I hear Millencolin, I imagine four Swedish teddy bears in barbershop quartet outfits playing punk rock music. Don't ask. But I can listen to them any time of day and feel better about everything after having done so. Surefire hits from the album would be the affectionate "Fox" written about a Moped scooter, the biting and cynical "Penguins and Polarbears", and my personal favorite "Duckpond", a ballad for being left behind.