Don't Doubt the Dance.

I've always secretly dreamed of participating in a renegade dance troupe .

"123 Party! is a renegade dance troupe that essentially crashes parties. Their mission is to “start the party.” Their motto is “Don’t Doubt the Dance.” Whether it’s techno, rave, hip-hop, or even square dance, 123 Party! is dedicated to crash every party with an ultimate dose of 80s awesomeness. Why not hit up the Northeastern frat houses? Or maybe even the local American Legion Bingo Night? Supermarkets are a great venue, as well. The dance floors are endless for 123 Party!"



Are you ready to party?

Nothing is left; nothing is gained

Abusing the Earth, its coming apart.

New York Death Metal stalwarts Immolation will cruelly wrest you from your mundane, daily existence and fucking crush you. Had the pleasure of catching these guys back in February with the very excellent Texan (not to be messed with) group Averse Sefira, amongst others. While released last summer, their newest effort "Shadows in the Light" is still on constant rotation. Very complex, dissonant guitar riffing afoot; spot on vocals, all without ever loosing their trademark--and very listenable, groove.

Further, they are playing in a cave that is fully equipped with strobe lights in their latest video.



Youtube user "ChrisOnThisSite" writes: "immolations(sic) awesome but you have to admit the video is kinda cheesy cause there(sic) in a cave and stuff"

I however, do not feel obliged to admit this, and moreover feel that if you do not feel Immolated (that's a good thing) after watching said cave-laden strobe light video...

Well mister, you can just leave the hall.

Great moments in stage banter

Please welcome... Slayer!

"Patiently waiting... all night! Patience, they say--they say, patience is a virtue, and that good things come to those that wait. Thank you for waiting so patiently!"



"Where've you guys been all night, maaan? You've been Tiiired, that's what! You've been in this place too fucking looong! All this music is just mushing your Braaaaaaaaaains! Now I have to admit its a nice welcome to come back to NEW YoooooorK! I thank you for coming toniiight; (YEAAAAH!) I thank ALL the beautiful people. And you know who you are--RIGHT (YEAAH!)? The people that're down in the furnace, burnin' their fuckin liiiiiiiiiives (Yeaaaaah!)! Sweating so they can just mop 'em off the floor, HUH. But those are the chance you take in life; not many you have one chance--one sacrifice you must make! Oooh I take it you've heard this before? Its a song of the Raining...Blood... Recorrrrrrrd. Its one that everyone seems to abide byyyy. Let it be--the Altar of Sacrifice!"



This has been a great moment in stage banter. Musicians: I hope you are taking notes.

Garfield and Modernity's Emptiness

Garfield would have you believe that Mondays are about as appealing as going garage sailing for used syringes. The following is almost as effective as a heroic dose of narcotics to dull your pain:

"Who would have guessed that when you remove Garfield from the Garfield comic strips, the result is an even better comic about schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and the empty desperation of modern life? Friends, meet Jon Arbuckle. Let’s laugh and learn with him on a journey deep into the tortured mind of an isolated young everyman as he fights a losing battle against loneliness in a quiet American suburb."

That's right: Garfield Minus Garfield

My current favorite:


Addendum: Garfield is also funny if you simply remove is thought bubbles. Here is something delightfully non-sequitur taken from some dark corner of the Internet:

Case jacked in.

Speaking of William Gibson, please enjoy this excerpt from his lesser-known masterpiece Kickballmmancer, written during his early, formative years.

Kickballmancer
William Gibson, age 12

The sky over the playground was the color of a television, tuned to a dead channel. "It's not like I'm using," Case heard someone say as he shouldered his way past the line around the ladder of the slide. "It's just that my body has developed this massive candy deficiency." It was a 6th grader voice and a 6th grader joke.

Case was 12. At 11 he had been a kickball cowboy, one of the best in the school. He'd been trained by the best, by McCoy Bally and Bobby Kicks, the best in the biz. Diving in and out of the kickball court, wining kickball games for trading cards. But then he'd made the classic mistake, something he'd sworn he'd never do. He threw a game.

They had found him, of course, and made sure he'd never play again. For 12 hours he had hallucinated in a darkened classroom while his body developed shinsplints.
The damage was minute, subtle, and ruthlessly effective. He'd never play kickball again.

He glanced down at the action figure he had been hired to fence. It smelled of long-chain polymers.

Classic! Taken from Something Awful.com

(History fanatics should also take note of the School Code of Conduct by a young Sun Tzu on page 3.):

When in line for the swings, stand to the side of both.

If the swing is in use, dare the enemy to jump.

If you find yourself on the swing, make sure to look for another place to play when you jump.

So much for swings.

When the milk and nap are required, sleep away from the one who smells. Milk will make him worse.

If one will knock down your blocks, you are to throw mud at him.

If one will throw mud at you, you will kick him in the shins.

If you are kicked in the shins you will kick back.

The kicking shall continue until one cries.

When the class is tired, you have occasion to secure the red crayon.

Soundtrack to the Dystopia

Highly influential electronic music innovators that looped complex melodies over simple, monotonous percussion. Kind of like the musical narration of a William Gibson novel.

Danke Deutschland.

Kraftwerk-Showroom Dummies (Trans-Europa Express)


We are standing here
Exposing ourselves
We are showroom dummies
We are showroom dummies

We're being watched
and we feel our pulse
We are showroom dummies
We are showroom dummies

We look around
and change our pose
We are showroom dummies
We are showroom dummies

We start to move
And we break the glass
We are showroom dummies
We are showroom dummies

We step out
And take a walk through the city
We are showroom dummies
We are showroom dummies

We go into a club
And there we start to dance
We are showroom dummies
We are showroom dummies