Tenth of December by George Saunders

 

It was loaned to me by Amy of the cool witch house.  If you ever find yourself lacking in an emotional connection with the world around you or lacking in general empathy, then I would strongly recommend this book.  Often, fictional circumstances encourage us to look for opportunities to make a difference among the indifferent. 

At just over two hundred pages, you can read this book in a day and in each of these short stories, put yourself in someone else's shoes and feel inspiration to do good in seeing the causality in subtle heroism.  And maybe that inspiration can give us the courage to accept and remember that integrity comes at a price and that is a fact of life.  

"Songs of the Steer’n Wheel Gripper" by Serial Mouse

On their bandcamp page, Serial Mouse claims to transcend genre. Still, I’m going to try to categorize them.   From northern Indiana, Serial Mouse plays occasionally extreme progressive rock, likely recorded in a garage (onto a digital 8 track), to be blasted over the deafening engine of your antique hesher van.  You and the gang might pull over and cash a steel reserve.  By the time you remember to turn the stereo down, you're already blasting off toward the deepest dimensions of bumfuck.  

The scenery is bleak but still you must race forward. To where? Who gives a RAT’s ASS?

I met Serial Mouse’s drummer/lead vocalist/auto harpist/sampler/visual artist back in December 2017 when Atkinson played drums in a metal fusion band (think rototoms and fretless bass) called Angel Grave.  Their show made me want to buy my own conversion van and pair of paisley slacks.

Serial Mouse seems to have formed at Angel Grave’s funeral.  Actually, it’s a little more up my alley than the old band.  At times I'm reminded of King Crimson, if they'd only been raised in the early 90s.  My favorite track is Nest Decaying, mostly because of its pronounced bass line.  My 2^nd favorite is probably Emerald Visions of an Unborn Czar.  The last two tracks give us more of a definite black metal vibe, which I especially appreciate when mixed with the rest of their sound.   I was surprised, since the northern darkness hadn't showed its face much in the earlier tracks.  Perhaps if that had been so, I'd have obeyed the temptation to pause and work on my drum chops for a bit.  These guys get fast.  

I love homemade albums.  They are the only pieces of music I want to review here in the zone.  I love how every amateur recording engineer has their own host of interesting quirks, giving a rare shine to every release.  Love it.  Still, we are forced to take the good quirks with those less desirable.  On this release I love the close-up, uncompressed sound of the drums.  I can articulate most of the guitar work but, I get that reverb is often used, the amps themselves sound too far away for me.  It does, however, add to the played in a garage vibe.  The amp sound doesn’t bother me as much as the lack of bass guitar.   The few times I can hear a bass, it is too far off for me to discern.

Even if you don’t buy the digital album, I recommend DEFINITELY checking it out. To me, Songs of the Steer’n Wheel Gripper is nothing short of sick. I give it an A+.

I have crossed the meridian

Life and cheese will never be the same again.  There really is a level of cheesiness that is very danger.  I made a dip with sour cream and this powder, cheesier than cheese.  So where will the thrill remain? 

Norse Mythology by Neil Gaiman

It was a Christmas gift in 2018 from my sister Amy.  At the following thanksgiving, she asked if I liked my book and I said, "What book?"  Of course, Neil Gaiman.  I'd been meaning to read some of his work.  

Do you have an interest in Norse Mythology?  Have you ever wondered where all those Norwegian black metal bands got their cool titles?  Look no further.  No joke, Gaiman is a master story teller.  I can't think of any writer who can use such plain language, so entertainingly pulling readers from their own world into the world on a page.  Norse Mythology is edutainment at its finest.  

Hot is not a Flavor

 

Not that I wouldn't recommend these Slim Jim Fire Fries.  I love the name, even though it is a pun.  Replacing an L with an R might be too edgy for a fest punk band but for a snack, I think it works.  Fire Fries have a texture comparable to Cheetos and Andy Capp's hot fries with a more satisfying crisp.  You might attribute that to Jim's lack of corn.  That's right baby.  Fire Fries are all potato, the way you might assume a fry should be.  

Regarding taste, I don't consider hot a valid flavor.  Spicy popcorn tastes like popcorn.  Spicy peanuts still taste like peanuts and even Flaming hot Cheetos taste kind of like Cheetos.  These fries just taste like spiciness.  Pure vegetarians and people with any semblance of class can rest, knowing these Fire Fries do not taste like an actual Slim Jim.  I would know.  I've tried every flavor, which is something I might talk about in later post.  

In other good news, Slim Jim fries also come in Buffalo Fury flavor.  If I come in contact with them, I will be making a post about it even though I expect they're just a saltier, tangier, and less coolly-named version of Fire Fries.

Return to Hoosiers Pizza

I do sometimes wish I were more bold.  Since I've gone back to work, there seems to be less to write about.  Perhaps I am more timid now that I have to regularly see other humans and those humans know about my zone.  

Of all things, I wish to protect the industry of regional pizza.  Hoosier's is quite cheap, so I made a pick up order during a movie night with Evdawg.  Their normal pizza seemed to be deliberately (very) under cooked.  There were no brown spots on the cheese, actually whiter than snow.  It was almost unreal.  Beside that imperative point, I need to tell you about another menu item.  The $5 Pickle Me.  It's a 10" pizza with ranch sauce, mozzarella, and pickle slices.  Normally, I think pizza without red sauce is somewhat blasphemous but at $5?  Just do it.  You will be glad you did.  And please don't follow in my other foolish steps.  Just tell them if your pizza is under cooked.  They need to know.  

Here I am, living with the journalist's curse, causing me to tell the world what is wrong with it instead of going to the source and taking time to make a real difference.  

Baked in the U. S. A.

Me too, sometimes. But I want to know what has been done to these crackers outside of the states. Honestly I assumed they were baked in the country. It would make no sense for them to get involved anywhere else but the fact that you (Austin) need to tell me your crackers were baked in this country leads me to believe something has been done to them in a far away place. But what? YYY???

At times I feel bad about the fact that I haven't been around the world but then I think of the merch from wish.com and wonder how much I could really sell for and how sexy I could be in the advertisements. Maybe I could somehow, someday be that sexy in real life and get paid to travel to China in a human sized epacket. Maybe I need to meet the people at wish.com and get myself sold. Finally, then I could buy those new cymbals I want.  

My neighborhood top 5

#5.  This lot on the corner of 10th and Summit.  There are so many trees, you can't see through it.  Sometimes it sounds like a rainforest.  

#4.  My friend Amy's cool witch house.  

#3.  This Suzuki SX4 on Adam's street, right by 11th.  I usually love the color black, but not when it comes to cars.  That's okay.  This whip is still really cool.  

#2.  This dog on 10th street.  He/she is really cute and doesn't like me very much.  

#1.  The empty lot next to my house where I have no neighbors.  We call it Chi Chi's field.  It's where all dogs can poop freely.  

Honorable mention is Mitch's house.  This is the front door actually.  He's not allowed to use the driveway because his landlord doesn't want to grant possession of it to any of his tenants.  Larry probably uses the driveway as a selling point in his bait and switch slumlord operation.  JK.  Larry is a nice guy.