Mitch

[size=1]...Isn't this more along the lines of music?[/size]

[size=1]...I miss hurricane Mitch. *sniffle sniffle* He was such a strong son of a gun.[/size]

[size=1] A blonde's husband goes into shock over his new son. He falls over onto his back, as if he has gotten a heart attack. He gapes and spasms and twists and writhes until he just stands there, motionless, having subaudible breathing. His wife, the blonde picks up the phone. But her mind scatters, and crashes, and burns. She slowly, uncertainly, dials the 9 on the phone. Then she stands there, the toddler crawling on her Daddie's chest. Then the phone beeping its dead beeps, she finally puts the phone down, certain she won't be able to dial the number. When her husband wakes up, they hug, kiss. "A...are you okay?" the blonde says as she hugs into his chest. "Why? I'm fine," he says. "[i]Fine?[/i]" "Yeah. I was just so amazed at our son...how he's so beautiful. I don't know. It's like God touched me, put me to the ground, made me finally see it. Why?" "I thought you were dying, or something. I tried to dial 911 but...but..." "But what, honey?" "I couldn't find the eleven."[/size]

[size=1]The breath of something new was in my face. I looked into the mirror, looked at my face and thought it to also look new. I changed from my Pink Floyd T-shirt into the red, now so familiar, KFC shirt. I placed the cap on my head, placing my hands on the bill and curving it. And then I looked in the bathroom mirror again. Something new, again, breathed me in the face. I was here. Had obtained what I'd sought the entire Summer like a maggot needing dead tissue to evolve any further. I had found that dead, decaying tissue I needed to evolve any further. I stepped out of the bathroom, fully dressed, fully paved and sent into the service of KFC as a trainee Colonel. Walking over to Cindy, my shift superviser, I played with the bill of my hat like some shy girl twisting her hair, flipping it around and over in a sly motion. Cindy introduced me to Hailey, a fellow co-worker. I again fumbled around with my hat a few times as I introduced myself to her. After accosting our greetings, we were sent out to sit in the dining room area since it was not yet time for our shift. We sat at the table, the sun hitting our eyes, our hands and legs propped here and there on the table in helter-skelter fashion. Hailey then asked me a few questions. None of which was of too much importance, and none which I cared for. Yet I still kept kindness enough to answer. She asked me questions such as what school I went to, how old I was, and other merely inquisitive nudges. Not that I thought she would ask anything too personal. After enough time had passed, we were taken to working. I had no idea what yet was my purpose, so I was of course taken to a trainer. And my first task was to learn how to prepare the chicken, I soon found. Cindy sent me in the back, and there I was met with another new person, Matt. Matt was rather tall, perhaps lanky. He stood out to me, buried under his hat, just like me, and pointed to get a plastic apron on. He said it all in his kind matter. From then on the day flew on. I became sheltered yet still frostbitten with my surroundings. The numb feel of the dead, chopped pieces of bloody chicken in my hands became just another thing. The feel of the flour as it swished and painted the chicken to its breaded whole become just another twitch. Entirely the place had this dirty feel to it. Breaded chicken flakes crunched the floor. The heavy aroma of oil and chicken entwined into a heating gloop. Flour stained my clothes to a ghastly white, like I'd become some lost and ambling spirit. People rushed to and back, gaining on about their jobs, servicing as fast as humanly they could. That first day I paid intent attention to Matt. I listened with the ears of some deceptive, acceptive dog. I asked and prodded and obtained with the wonderful crushing of a hand. When the day was done, I went home, tired, drained. A maggot too nauseous of its eating. From then on five weeks elapsed like a wide-eyed, howling moon. During these weeks I learned more of the same, and some other new tasks. I met other fellow workers, and was further along trained as an aspiring Colonel. Tim was the main one I now remember. He was almost like me in many ways. He liked music, he wore glasses, and was very satirical and sarcastic. We got right along in the jaded concessions of the KFC, often talking of nothing much. Tim often told of how the other night he had gotten, or was going to get "**** faced," as he so put. He was not alone as the only one that drank alcohol that worked there. There was Robin, a fat, bellyached man that appeared to be in his forties. He rode his bike to work, and worked another job along with this one. Looking at him it was easy to see that alcohol was in some part of the equation with him. Not to mention I'd often wonder if what I smelled on his breath was alcohol, or if when he sweated if it was beer he was outpouring by the gallons. Robin, too, was not even alone. John, another worker there, also drank beer, and often proclaimed it loudly enough that most knew of it. One time I had even seen him carrying a whole cooler cased with it, and filling it with ice from the ice box. It seems alcohol was a thing brought and somehow linked and beaten into my workplace. I even remember one day while I was absentmindedly mopping the dining room that a man had staggered in like a groaning zombie. His eyes were glazed in a stupefied haze. He walked to the front and Cindy started taking his order. The man said something near to, "Ah'd like sum chikun." It came out all slurred, visceral. Like the way raw, red, bleeding hamburger looks. Cindy asked how many pieces. After a long time of drunken deliberation, he continued stuporing around as if in some backdrop of his mind he was processing the human genome, and the rest of his brain cells were locked in their chains and behind their bars. Then with some childish yet childless drivel he finally ordered how many pieces. Even then he continued to stand there doing nothing as Cindy read out his total. He stood like this for what was the longest time. Then finally, digging into his pockets as if he was digging for the root of some deep weed, he came out with a few scattered one dollar bills. Cindy asked him if he had more. He dug again, this time bringing even more out, this time enough. Cindy then gave him back his change, told him kindly his order would be out soon, and was off on her way to pack it. The man, upon receiving his order, sat down and just ripped the package holding the chicken to hell. He ate like some starved waif, groveling and chewing harshly and so loud you could hear the smacking of his teeth. It sounded like some loud cow chewing on long prairie grass that was prematurely born as a pig, it was so loud and boisterous. Having just mopped the area where this guy had made his mess, I was forced to do it all over again. I did so, having to sweep up demeated legs, thighs, and wings that looked like some bone collector's lost fortune. Not to mention all the little scraps and pieces of ripped and gutted paper that looked something like clattered pieces of obtuse glass. That done, it was then time to clean the bathrooms. This I was really not inclined to be forced to do. Cindy said she might have seen the guy go in there. Eventually Tim got enough guts to go in. He didn't even seem too shaken from it at all, and I guess grafting myself to his mind, I wouldn't either. It probably was something relatively commonplace to him. The guy luckily wasn't in there. I certainly wouldn't have gone in there. I had had this horrible picture of what it would look like inside: all this barf and phlegm showering the walls, the guy lying there on the ground like some life-sized blow up doll that's too lifelike to be one in the first place. It did kind of seem like alcohol just had its own face there. And seeing this, I began to gather some thoughts about my long-term time working there. I began thinking I had been doing a good job. I thought that probably I was more adept than anyone else. I certainly didn't say anything like that, or say I was better. Nor did I think it, but I knew if people like this could work there, then there must be some room for me. Yet it is funny how as certain something can be, how uncertain it can become. It was a few days after I had worked nearly ten hours on The Fourth of July that it happened. That day I was assigned as a cook. It was easy enough. I remember clearly John saying that I was the most messy person that had ever worked there. I had looked at him, brushed at the usual thick dust of flour all over my hands and apron, thinking why he'd even said it. I simply came to the thought that at least I wasn't afraid to get down and dirty and into my job. Also I remember Tim being there, and him asking me what was wrong. It is strange remembering this now, it sort of feels like he knew something. Maybe he already had known what was to happen that day? Near the end of my shift I had been cleaning out the vents all about the kitchen. When we were finally finished with this, Diane, the owner of the KFC, beckoned me into her office like some anonymous felon. Diane, while I had been working at KFC for my five weeks, had been on vacation time, living it up on some beach of sand, sun, and fun. Walking into her office I knew just what was going to happen. It was all over her face like some casual mess trying to not crumble all over a cleansed floor. She sat me down next to her, staring at me. She began by explaining that she had gotten some "complaints" from my gracious fellow co-workers. One had complained that I had a bad habit of always putting my hands in my pockets, she said. Another had claimed I didn't know how to pack chicken good enough. And then it was like a boxing match, her fat girth suddenly transformed into lean, muscular being. She hit me with the last and finally degrading punch. "I don't know what to do. I've wasted all the hours training you already. You should know how to at least work the till by now." I just stared at her, everything seeping in like blood seeping back into an open wound. I should know how to work the till by now? Well just look here now. You're the one that sets the pace at which I learn my job, you are the ones that train me. So you're telling me it's my fault I haven't learned the till? If you wanted me to learn it, then you should've done so. I didn't say a thing. I only sat there thinking that, telling myself that I was sure that part of it was me probably. But lookie here, lookie here. Ms. Queen of the Chicken was on vacation. I'm supposed to pick up the slack of your absence and learn as fast as I am supposed to? Then it was time for another punch even though I was done and gone and out. "You haven't even learned how to pack chicken yet. You should have that nearly mastered by now." I just glared at her, not saying a word. "Do you even know how to pack?" "Somewhat," I said. I could've said that I did. I could've told her that I actually mostly did. But what was I? I was a little colonel, I was a yodeling cajoling little Barney the Dinosaur. I didn't know jack. And it was pointless to tell her the truth, I could see it in her pig eyes that I wasn't going to get out of this. So I kept shut. "Somewhat. So you see, you should have it all down by now. So I'm going to let you go. You could've been a cook, but Arnold already has that." So then it was all over, and I left. I drove off and drove home like a maniac. I was pissed. Yet I didn't know what to feel. Defeat? Anger? Hate? What was I to feel? I had loved working at KFC. I had met friends in my coworkers. And just like that, bang, I was gone. A few weeks later I remember getting a little something in the mail from KFC. It was a champion card, the ones used to award those that had done some special work. They were used to claim a worker of the month, who got to park at a special spot at KFC, and got paid some higher wages. The card was filled out by Tim. On it it read, "For doing a good job to help close." Then his signature. I was surprised when I got it, also somewhat sad that I had never gotten to really be anything with Tim. But I suppose it wouldn't have been any real friendship, other than at KFC. Still, it is kind interesting to try and see what it would have been like if I hadn't gotten fired.[/size]

[size=1] This thing was very rushed. I started it about 11 or so last night and worked on it until 1:30. Overall I'd say it's decent, but yeah. Don't be too harsh, because I didn't myself even expect this thing to be that good itself. I still couldn't find a good place for an ending. The arrows dance on their faces like half crosses of some geeky, digital religion. Their legs hustle and groove as the music beats out and the arrows pass. Some sweat bleeds out onto them, staining their clothes, tainting them with water that oozes onto their shirts and their bodies. This is the new revolution. The new high. Some of them do it for the fun of it. Some of them do it for the competitive nature of it. Others still do it for too many reasons to name. But for all of them, it's become a premise from them to come back to over and over again, each time satisfied and thoroughly rectified in their love of the game. Senior Mack Wilz's face seems to brighten up at the single mention of Dance Dance Revolution. Like it's some baby he's grown to nurture and care for. Like it's actually something he physically loves, mentally labors and challenges himself with. And it's not too hard to find that to be true in some fashions. "It's just so fun," he says. "Plus it's a great workout as well." Getting a workout from a game, it sounds like something crazy. Something that just doesn't add into video games. But here's DDR, and it's a prime example that there's actually more to video games than no values at all. The game isn't played with a controller like millions of others. Instead, it's played with sort of a pad. The pad has four arrows on it in its square, two pointing up and down parallel to another, two pointing left and right also parallel to one another. In this grid is where you dance and groove to the music. This is where you pour your heart and soul into it. On the screen next and close enough for comfort to the pad, arrows just like the ones seen on the pad fly by at varying speeds and combinations. Some point just left as the beat of the music keys their coming. Some point just right, some up, some down. Other times, links of arrows are mixed together in a mesh, causing you to have to coordinate yourself to hit both arrows at once. It ends up getting more trickier than it probably sounds. It's also obsessive to some as well. Mack, smiling, laughing, recalls that he once played the game so long that he came close to passing out. "I played for about 4 or 5 hours," he says. "My legs just gave out on me, and I just couldn't play any longer." 4 or 5 hours may sound long, but to some that's the way games like these are. They suck you in, let you escape and just relax for awhile. Plus there's the group aspect to it. Hanging out with friends, having a good time. For many teens it's one of the higher points of their existence. And many will readily admit that down time is needed to relieve stress. Junior Danae Bacous also could be considered something of a DDR regular. She goes nearly every day, or every other day, and dances to the beats and jives of the game. She, unlike Wilz, doesn't own a home version of the game, which can be bought in various types for Playstation and Playstation 2 game consoles. Instead, she goes to the Raging Rivers Water Park, where inside they have a small arcade that in one cozy corner has a DDR machine. "I usually go alone, I'm such a loser," she says. "But sometimes at Raging Rivers there's other people there, and we hang out. Sometimes I even bring my friends." Whatever the case, it's obvious to see that she too loves the game in one form or another. She even likes the music from the game, which is mostly Japanese music, and has CDs full of music from it, which she listens to often. Some is techno. Most of it is Japanese, since that is where the game originated. There are even different machines of the game that have entirely different songs you can choose to dance to. "When I went to Washington with some friends," Bacous said, "I got to dance on 6 different machines. Each one had different songs and stuff. It was interesting." With Raging Rivers the only spot to play the game other than if you own the game, it seems rather far to drive as far as to Mandan to play it. Yet Danae does it, as it's certain others do. Some even go as far as inventing the game even further, taking it one step further, pulling off wicked tricks and stunts as they pull of and bust their moves to the game all at once. It adds even a more competitive and beautiful edge to the game, like it's its own art. One that isn't going to be lost soon, it seems, as people further reinvent themselves playing it. "I have improved extremely since I first began," says Wilz. "I used to have trouble on so many songs, but now I can do them. I even do tricks while I do it." For beginners, Wilz says it's most important to keep up with the beat of the song than with the arrows, because that's what gives concentration and a basis and structure to the game. From there, he says, it grows. You get better and better at it, more addicted. Wilz and Danae both openly admitted they'd love to be mascots for DDR. Danae said she'd be the "spiky haired dude" that you can choose to be while playing the game, and that she'd do a progressive ad campaign, donning on Subway's weight loss man's song and dance of merchandizing as a weight loss diet. Wilz said simply he'd do something funny, and wear the costume of the "afro man" you can choose as a character in the game. The game is even so widely popular that there's even a sort of rip-off web game of it at the address of [url]www.flashflashrevolution.com[/url] where you can play a keyboard-based game of it, using the arrow keys in the same fashion as the pad. It's also addicting in many ways, and endlessly replayable and fun. Whether it's a rip-off or not is thing to be argued, but it is definitely fun. [/size]

[size=1] Written for an AP English assignment having to have 7 vocab words from a sheet and 3 correct semicolon uses. [b][u]the metal heart[/b][/u] i denounce the metal heart. i denounce it and all its parts. it has ephemeral beats; like slow lovers yearning for heat. yet only the sun can touch its rays on their lips; for a machine serves no other purpose but to vacillate. machines only serve to eat away and rust leaves grey. it is a sad state of affairs. yet even in these wears and tears the iron lung breathes its breath. and will you ever join me in this fist; the joining of metal i call indifference. for i bleed for no god and i revere no laws; i bend my mind to discern my cause. to denounce the machine is to bury all graves; it is to pluck all those prolific gains. to this i am not at all ashamed; i find i see where others stand and why they idle away. the metal heart may beat even so yet i stand here and either way i will go. call me a pagan and i'll call you a zealot; call me a pragmatist and i'll call you a craven. the iron lung will beat even so yet still i stand here and either way i will go. imagine your haven if you wish so is it in the sky that we bleed and go? why there are wars when nothing is gained but fighting for everything yet ending the same i will never know. i find i see where others stand and why they idle away. when the machine is so dead and only living up where he bled and only living on what in the past has been said i see i find where others stand and why they idle away. cessations are too long to gain; i will not sit here molded by them day by day. i will choose indifference as my way and live for what there is today. if there is a haven in the sky i do not see, nor care why; for all i see is an outer space that is so digital and black. where stars dot the sky hands reach and grasp their nebulae. i do not see a heaven that stands; i see bars where i will live in entity where i live in infamy and infamous ecstasy. a life after death that is only given superficially. because i know i do not deserve such a peace and i find that once my heart dies i will cease to exist rather than live on in a haven forced to catalyst i would rather die and cease to be. i denounce the metal heart. i denounce it and all its parts. if it is real i have no right to say; and if it isn't real also i have no right to say. if i shall become obscure for my apathy then let it be. for forcing me is a didactic plea and i will not fall to my knees for something i cannot see. will you ever join me in this fist; the joining of metal i call indifference. for i bleed for no god and i revere no laws; i bend my mind to discern my cause.[/size]

[size=1] Well, the peps have already honored there buds. There was a thread about this recently... Can't you take some sarcasm? I guess not, and that said, I am not going to explain my sarcasm. That ruins it entirely. ... Yes, on with this topic.[/size]

[size=1] Yeah, I like the vents. There's this one right in front of my room, and it's so cool. It gives cold air out so that it's just so cold down here in my room. I'd also like to vent around in a vent someday...like they always do in a movie. You know, some secret escape stuff.[/size]

[size=1] If anyone readily says that they have been "changed" by someone here, and says it like they actually mean it, then I suppose we should all just go and jump off a cliff together. It is quite too bad I'd say that we can't do that, now. So I have invented a new innovative way to do this; we can all boycott the internet just as at the Boston [i]Tea Party[/i]. The anarchist in me is the apatheist in you; the breathing life in us is the dying breath of you. Or we could all just lynch ourselves...understand the oppression that so many african americans have gone through. We could even whip one another and stand and watch as blood flew all over the deck. How great the image of slavery is..not. Yeah... After much bibilcalation, I have decided that no one here has changed me. Not even affected. All they have done is talk to me. And "talking" is a sad way to put it. In reality, all it is is their hands hitting keys on a keyboard and making different words. Stuff such as that is called text, and textual relations only go so far as to give you so much. ... Confused with this post yet? I am too.[/size]

[size=1] Ah. I see. And what's your opinion of [i]Mer de Noms[/i] then? Is it also worth buying? It must be, because you seem to have rushed out to buy this album. Do you also know if Tool has any plans to ever make another CD? I sure hope so. I'm guessing there's probably rumors, and there's factual stuff about it, but I don't really keep up with music news stuff. I should start doing so though.[/size]

[size=1]History repeats itself.[/size]

[size=1] If Tool's singer is on vocals, then I have to get the CD. I love Tool, although I haven't heard very much other than [i]Lateralus[/i]. So did Tool break up as well? It seems obviously so... Mellow I think is my favorite type of music overall I'd say. A lot of the time I am in that mood, and any song that is like that sucks me to mellowness as well. Interpol is a good example of something very numbing and mellow, as are most Pink Floyd songs. And those two are some of my most favorite bands. I will have to buy this album then.[/size]

[size=1]Breathe, breathe in the air. Don't be afraid to care. Leave but don't leave me. Look around and choose your own ground. Long you live and high you fly And smiles you'll give and tears you'll cry And all you touch and all you see Is all your life will ever be. Run, rabbit run. Dig that hole, forget the sun, And when at last the work is done Don't sit down it's time to dig another one. For long you live and high you fly But only if you ride the tide And balanced on the biggest wave You race towards an early grave. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------[/size]

[size=1] Right now, in fact, I am wearing a Pink Floyd T-shirt. Although recently I haven't been listening to them as much as I have, since I've been caught up in a slur of new bands I've bought, it certainly doesn't mean they're not near one of my favorite bands. Yet it's hard to say just near, beacause there is seriously so many good bands out there. I have not listened to Dark Side of the Moon as much as I'd like to say; although I purchased it rather recently, I haven't much gotten into it as much as their other stuff. But from what I have listened to, it is definitely a good record, of course. Tony calls albums such as DSoM "concept" albums, which I guess is somewhat I good way to put it. I'd say more or less this album is what kept the band alive long enough to go on and do things such as The Wall. Or maybe I have my dates mixed up, yet I'm sure that The Wall is newer that DSoM. Obviously I don't know too much about this band for how much I love them...but that's the way I seem to be. I find a band, and simply listen to them, not getting to know much about histories and such. Although I certainly have been trying to get myself to know some knowledge, as with Radiohead, and Rush. But I still didn't find too much abundance of informative histories from my searches. My favorite song of theirs is just too hard to pick, really. "Wish You Were Here," is so beautiful it literally just tears me up inside whenever I hear it..."Shine on You Crazy Diamond (all parts)," is very good. I really like longer songs mostly for some reason, so that's why I think I like it. I think mainly it's just that they're more filling, personally, to me. Eventually I hope to know everything there is to know about this band, but at the present I don't know much, other than what my ears have heard. But they are one of my favorite bands I've found so far, just haven't been listening to them as much as of late, like I said. They're brilliant, though. Very much so.[/size]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by wrist cutter [/i] [B]i AGREE tHEY ARE COOL sHOW SUM RESPECT tHEIR LYRICS ARE REALY DEEP [/B][/QUOTE] I Aagree to OHMYGOD!!@!1122111 tHISas bandS MY goSDDS. OMg bENji IS SO HOTT!1212121 i WANT TO GET iNTHE bARN WITH hIM o(NE DAY q@1!!112121 I AaGRERE TO THAT THERE LYRICs aRE aWESOOME tO!111! OMg We Both Love THIs BANd. I THInk ITS AMAZING!!!111 OMG WTF LOL!!!

[size=1][quote]RUSH is a pioneering line-up of the Seventies Progressive rock, who influenced most hard-rock and even heavy-metal power trios. This brilliant band is composed of bassist-singer Geddy LEE, guitarist Alex LIFESON and famous drummer Neil PEART. In 1974 John RUTSEY was replaced by Neil PEART who also assumed the role of the band's primary songwriter. Their instrumental virtuosity is mind-blowing, their lyrics are some of the best I've ever read, and every album they've released contains a shattering classic. Through their 20+ year career, they've proved to be the masters of their respective instrument while creating incredible music. Now, a brief summary of the band's career ... Through the history of RUSH, they have passed through many distinct phases. Every one of these phases represents a triumph in music, allowing the band to move on. As at the end of all of RUSH's phases, a live LP was released. This tradition began with "All The World's A Stage", recorded live at Massey Hall in Toronto, Canada. Since then, the group has released three additional live albums: the best-selling "Exit ... Stage Left" (1981), "A Show of Hands" (1989), and the three-disc set "Different Stages" (1998), which encompasses three decades of the group's music. FIRST PHASE (1974-1976): In the beginning, they started off as hard rock blues outfit with John-boy before he left and Neil came in, bringing his sci-fi mind into the works. The music seems to be a transition between straight-ahead rock tunes and more complex progressive tracks. "Caress of Steel" is a landmark album in the history of RUSH. Lyrically and musically, "2112" was a masterpiece. This multi-platinum release remains one of RUSH's best-selling albums. SECOND PHASE (1977-1981): They moved headlong into progressive rock in the later part of the decade, starting with the album previous and right on to their massive breakthrough, 1981's "Moving Pictures". Synthesizers were now employed by the band, played in the studio and on stage by Geddy. This was the end of transition from long epic pieces to shorter, more concise, and intricate songs. "Permanent Waves" is widely considered to be second only to "Moving Pictures" as RUSH's finest achievement. THIRD PHASE (1982-1989): RUSH embraced the 1980s sound with "Signals", making heavy use of synthesizers and keyboards for the first time in the band's history. Keyboards have become a very large part of the music, and the interplay of guitar, drums, bass, and keyboards became technically almost impossible to play live. The two LPs that followed, "Grace Under Pressure" and "Power Windows", also followed nearly the same mold. They reached the zenith of its keyboard experimentation with "Hold Your Fire". PRESENT PHASE (1990 to today): Moving to a new label, RUSH embarked on their present phase with "Presto". So, after mercifully ending their synth period, RUSH went into a sort of pop/rock phase for this stage in their career. They sought to remove the dominance of keyboards in the music, and go back to a bass-drum-guitar sound . But after their tour for their 1996 record "Test For Echo", the band took six years off before returning in 2002 with the release of their new album "Vapor Trails".[/quote] [b][center][img]http://members.dandy.net/~fbn/2112.gif[/img] "2112," from the ablum of the same name.[/b][/center] I. Overture Words and Music by Geddy Lee, Alex Lifeson, and Neil Peart [i]"And the meek shall inherit the earth."[/i] II. The Temples of Syrinx Words by Neil Peart, Music by Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson .[i].. "The massive grey walls of the Temples rise from the heart of every Federation city. I have always been awed by them, to think that every single facet of every life is regulated and directed from within! Our books, our music, our work and play are all looked after by the benevolent wisdom of the priests..."[/i] We've taken care of everything The words you hear the songs you sing The pictures that give pleasure to your eyes It's one for all and all for one We work together common sons Never need to wonder how or why We are the Priests of the Temples of Syrinx Our great computers fill the hallowed halls We are the Priests of the Temples of Syrinx All the gifts of life are held within our walls Look around this world we made Equality our stock in trade Come and join the Brotherhood of Man Oh what a nice contented world Let the banners be unfurled Hold the Red Star proudly high in hand We are the Priests of the Temples of Syrinx Our great computers fill the hallowed halls. We are the Priests of the Temples of Syrinx All the gifts of life are held within our walls. III. Discovery Words by Neil Peart, Music by Alex Lifeson [i]... "Behind my beloved waterfall, in the little room that was hidden beneath the cave, I found it. I brushed away the dust of the years, and picked it up, holding it reverently in my hands. I had no idea what it might be, but it was beautiful" ... ... "I learned to lay my fingers across the wires, and to turn the keys to make them sound differently. As I struck the wires with my other hand, I produced my first harmonious sounds, and soon my own music! How different it could be from the music of the Temples! I can't wait to tell the priests about it! ..."[/i] What can this strange device be? When I touch it, it gives forth a sound It's got wires that vibrate and give music What can this thing be that I found? See how it sings like a sad heart And joyously screams out its pain Sounds that build high like a mountain Or notes that fall gently like rain I can't wait to share this new wonder The people will all see its light Let them all make their own music The Priests praise my name on this night IV. Presentation Words by Neil Peart, Music by Alex Lifeson .[i].. "In the sudden silence as I finished playing, I looked up to a circle of grim, expressionless faces. Father Brown rose to his feet, and his somnolent voice echoed throughout the silent Temple Hall." ... ... "Instead of the grateful joy that I expected, they were words of quiet rejection! Instead of praise, sullen dismissal. I watched in shock and horror as Father Brown ground my precious instrument to splinters beneath his feet..."[/i] I know it's most unusual To come before you so But I've found an ancient miracle I thought that you should know Listen to my music And hear what it can do There's something here as strong as life I know that it will reach you Yes, we know it's nothing new It's just a waste of time We have no need for ancient ways The world is doing fine Another toy will help destroy The elder race of man Forget about your silly whim It doesn't fit the plan I can't believe you're saying These things just can't be true Our world could use this beauty Just think what we might do Listen to my music And hear what it can do There's something here as strong as life I know that it will reach you Don't annoy us further We have our work to do Just think about the average What use have they for you? Another toy will help destroy The elder race of man Forget about your silly whim It doesn't fit the plan V. Oracle: The Dream Words by Neil Peart, Music by Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson [i]... "I guess it was a dream, but even now it all seems so vivid to me. Clearly yet I see the beckoning hand of the oracle as he stood at the summit of the staircase" ... ... "I see still the incredible beauty of the sculptured cities and the pure spirit of man revealed in the lives and works of this world. I was overwhelmed by both wonder and understanding as I saw a completely different way to life, a way that had been crushed by the Federation long ago. I saw now how meaningless life had become with the loss of all these things ..."[/i] I wandered home though the silent streets And fell into a fitful sleep Escape to realms beyond the night Dream can't you show me the light? I stand atop a spiral stair An oracle confronts me there He leads me on light years away Through astral nights, galactic days I see the works of gifted hands That grace this strange and wondrous land I see the hand of man arise With hungry mind and open eyes They left the planet long ago The elder race still learn and grow Their power grows with purpose strong To claim the home where they belong Home, to tear the Temples down... Home, to change.. VI. Soliloquy Words by Neil Peart, Music by Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson [i]... "I have not left this cave for days now, it has become my last refuge in my total despair. I have only the music of the waterfall to comfort me now. I can no longer live under the control of the Federation, but there is no other place to go. My last hope is that with my death I may pass into the world of my dream, and know peace at last."[/i] The sleep is still in my eyes The dream is still in my head I heave a sigh and sadly smile And lie a while in bed I wish that it might come to pass Not fade like all my dreams Just think of what my life might be In a world like I have seen I don't think I can carry on Carry on this cold and empty life Oh...noo! My spirits are low in the depths of despair My lifeblood spills over.. VII. Grand Finale Music by Geddy Lee, Alex Lifeson, and Neil Peart [i]Attention all Planets of the Solar Federation Attention all Planets of the Solar Federation Attention all Planets of the Solar Federation We have assumed control. We have assumed control. We have assumed control[/i] This is probably my favorite band...or really near there. If you haven't heard of them, or say the signer's voice is annoying, fine with me. But I put these guys next to Led Zeppelin, maybe even higher as far as I'm concerned. They are near Gods as far as I'm concerned. [/size]

[size=1] I probably will never touch stuff like this. So you know where I stand on this topic; I'm not going to hammer my point. Drinking is a lot like an escape if you use it enough...and even using it to get a buzz sometimes is also like an escape. But that's what a lot of people want. An escape.[/size]

[quote]Besides providing the setting for Jules Vernes 80 Days Around The World, featuring Phileas Fogg, England seems to be very good at housing great musicians. Throughout history, many great musicians have originated from England, such as Coldplay, and Radiohead of course. Having known their beginnings in Oxford, England, the band is composed of Thom Yorke (Vocals), Johnny Greenwood (Guitar), Ed O'Brian (guitar), Colin Greenwood (Bass) and Phil Selway (Drums). At first, these university students practiced once a week, every friday, hence their name "On A Friday". Radiohead came out with their first album in 1993. Entitled Pablo Honey, this first creation hosted the world renowned Creep, which won them their popularity. Although, it would be hard to shake their reputation as a one-hit-wonder. However, their 1995 release of The Bends proved this belief to be wrong, since it gained them more popularity and introduced them to a steady fan base that would follow them throughout the rest of their days. Songs like Fake Plastic trees and Street Spirit were a huge success and ensured the creation of a third album. And so, in 1997, the band came out with O.K. Computer, an album that was named best-album of the year by many critics. Of course, many hits and singles were among the reasons for this success. In fact, Paranoid Android, No surprises as well as Karma Police were among the tracks most enjoyed by the public. In the year 2000, Radiohead came out with their long-awaited Kid A, which amazed as many listeners as it drew away. In fact, this new creation was a turning point in the band's history, caracterized by new incredible sounds that didn't please all ears. Regardless of all the criticism, Kid A reached the #1 spot in the U.S. in its first week. In June 2001, Radiohead came out with Amnesiac, which was recorded at the same time as Kid A but launched on a different date. Amnesiac was simply a continuance of Kid A, with new sounds and a style that is quite original. Although many people did not approve of the new sound, it is one that ensures creativity from the band, because it enables them to write music without having tp respect a certain form. As Radiohead begins their tour for Amnesiac, who knows just what's in store for these people who were simply destined to write music. [/quote] They have, of course, recently released [i]Hail to the Thief[/i]. I think this is nearly my favorite band at the moment. I first bought [i]OK Computer[/i], and was really amazed. Then I bought [i]Hail to the Thief[/i], and at first had a tough time with it, but then loved it as well. From there I've gotten [i]Amnesiac[/i], then [i]The Bends[/i]. I am now only missing four or so of their albums: [i]Kid A, Pablo Honey,[/i] their B-Sides album, and their live album they have out. I again highly recommend you give this band a huge shot. I'd probably first start off with [i]The Bends[/i] if I could. Here's a quick overview of their albums I have heard so far: [center][img]http://www.zeroartradio.com/Albumpics/radiohead-bends.jpg[/img][/center] [i]The Bends[/i] is exactly what the album's name is. It's a twisting, thriving, moving piece of bending moods. It starts off with the so-so "Planet Telex," and then immediately moves onto a wonderful collection of songs. When I say wonderful, I really do mean it, too. Nearly this entire album is full of some very very great songs. "The Bends," the next song, is upbeat, full of anger, yet somehow still calming. It has amazing lyrics that speak widely: Where do we go from here/ The words are coming out all weird/ Where are you know/ When I need you/ Alone on an aeorplane/ Fallin asleep against the window pane/ My blood'll THICKEN/ I need to wash myself again/ To hide out all the dirt and pain cause I'd be scared/ Who are my real friends/ Have they all got the Bends/ Am I really sinking this low... And so on. The song itself is loud, guitar-ridden. Thom Yorke, the singer of Radiohead, does an amazing job putting life to this song as well. Definitely worth a listen. It has an angry, rebellious nature to it, yet Thom's voice gives it this eloquently frail and ruinous feeling to it. Next up on [i]The Bends[/i] is "High and Dry," a rather sour, calm song. Thom again makes it even more mellow with his high voice and beautiful way with the lyrics. Another great song from this great album. "Fake Plastic Trees," is one of the favorites of many Radiohead fans. It's a really quiet, almost reflective song. The lyrics for it, again, are amazing. And the climax of the song is loud enough yet sound enough to still sound beautiful. Again, this song is mainly, instrumental-wise, driven by guitar. It works very well, blurring all over and through the song while Thom pushes it onward as well. He's just amazing with lyrics, he hits your right in the heart with them as far as I'm concerned. And he goes into a long drawl from one word when it's right, and this song is no exception at all. "Bones," is probably my favorite Radiohead song. Although it depends, I have found that I really enjoy this song. It's just like all of the other songs I have said so far, only this is one of the more upbeat songs, mainly given it by the guitar again. Yet at the same time it's also mellowing in other areas. It jumps from loudly quiet, then to the endlessly hitting and beautifully sung lyric of, "WE GET TO FEEL LIKE ALL WE ARE IS BONES." The climax is also great, with Thom going from, "WE GET TO FEEL LIKE ALL WE ARE IS BONES," and lulling his way through that to, "I USED TO FLY LIKE PETER PAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNN. ALL THE CHILDREN FLEW AND TOUCHED MY HAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNND." It's amazing. Uplifting. "(Nice Dream)," is a nice change after "Bones." It's a very very calm song, almost driveling. It passes fast, but leaves a nice place from where "Bones" had left off. After "(Nice Dream)," "Just," is an open, welcoming face from the glum. It immediately starts of loud and jamming, relying on guitar again, and is further propelled by Thom's amazing use of the lyrics, "You do it to yourself," and he hammers them all around you until it eats inside of you. And just when you think the song is over, Thom comes back again, loud as ever, adding new power to the lyrics and making the song even more festering. "My Iron Lung," was written about Radiohead's earlier song from their earlier album, "Creep," when Thom was trying to distinguish from being one-hit wonders. And it's another amazing song on this amazing album. It starts off mellow, then goes to loud, then goes to mellow, then loud, then mellow, until you are somehow just winded and short of breath and it just keeps carrying you along its way. A very beautiful song. Not to mention the lyrics can apply to anyone. One of the best from the album if I had to choose. "Bullet Proof..I wish I was," is another glummy song. It's, again, an open face after the power of "My Iron Lung," and fills the void from here to there nicely. I especially love Thom's lyrical power in this song, it hits you in this song again, with his numbing, driveling way with the lyrics, putting them again against your heart. "Black Star," is another of my favorites from [i]The Bends[/i]. It starts off slow and beautiful, then rushes forward with the lyrical catching, hitting, "Blame it on your black star/Blame it on your falling sky/Blame it on the satellite that beams me home." And it continues going like this the whole way, like the formula of a lot of the songs on this album are. It goes from that verse to calmness again, then back to the verse, then calm, then explodes as it ends and becomes something full and bloomed as it should be. One of my favorite songs on the album, like I said. I love it. I can't express it enough. "Sulk," comes up after the amazing, eating, "Black Star." It stars off with drums, then the guitar comes in, then Thom all sad and mellow. Then it explodes with the catchy line of, "Sometimes you sulk/ Sometimes you burn/God rest your soul," and again Thom pushes the lyrics with his amazing way of singing. One of the more depressing songs on the album, but it's also one of the most powerful. After "Sulk," comes the last song on the album, and in my opinion, one of the best. "Street Spirit (Fade Out)," is easily the most depressing song on the album. It doesn't explode or hit you with any of the anger that was in the rest of the album, rather, it sort of just ambles around like it would rather just be dead, and not a song at all. But Thom does again another amazing job, as he has on this entire album, and pushes the lyrics to feeling and life. Another one of my favorite songs from the album. [i]The Bends[/i] is probably my favorite album of theirs. Not that any of the other albums are better in anyway, really. But Radiohead has never sounded exactly like this again. After [i]The Bends[/i] the powerful, numbing anger is never really seen again. And never again is there any of the uplifting songs again. [i]OK Computer[/i] definitely has some of what [i]The Bends[/i] has, but the diversity in the songs on this album are just amazing. It serves as the easiest album to listen all the way through without stopping. It doesn't make you feel too depressed, and most of the later Radiohead albums do. Especially [i]Amnesiac[/i] and [i]Hail to the Thief[/i]. So, in overview, I recommend this album to buy first if you want to get into this band as quick as possible. Otherwise, nearly every other album requires harder listening for it to be able to grow on you all the way. If you'd like to download a couple of songs from the album, I'd personally recommend, "Bones," "Sulk," "The Bends," "Street Spirit (Fade Out)," and "Fake Plastic Trees." That's nearly the whole album, surely, but this album is just that great. Next up is [i]OK Computer[/i], but I don't have time to go on. I'm going to my friend's house soon, so I guess I'll hang this post up here. But I will for sure review the rest of the albums, and then type up more of why I love this band. Until then I hope this will serve as enough, and I hope that some people actually take some initiative and go out and try this band. But if you don't, it's your loss then. Whatever.

[size=1] Come peons, come come. Go check out the great Interpol. They be Gods with guns in shapes of guitars. Yes. Big mean strong. Big men strong. All ever you wanted! *wants to hear new songs Tonyholio has*[/size]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Lady Macaiodh [/i] [B][COLOR=darkblue][size=1]**laughs uproariously** PS: Mitch, can I get some of that acid? It seems really good.[/size] [/COLOR] [/B][/QUOTE] [size=1] Admittedly, Mitchell Grant Smith, as later said at a later date, was never caught with drugs, nor was he ever caught in possesion of it in his small rural home on the outskirts of HellaHell Land. "Nah, I've never even had a hit of Acid," Smith later told a cajoling Lady Mac. "Never have; hope never to." Even though many people are against him, Smith still stands to his accusations. When asked again, he turned yet again, giving a look of utter contempt and rancor. "I said no, and no is no," said Smith. "The acid might as well have been phosphourous. Or perhaps coppertoned rust." It was not acid, it was genius. And if there is acid in genius, then genius is not genuine, and all of us were never worthy of saying a word that had intelligence inside.[/size]

[size=1] I'm afraid of fear. And fear is afraid. Eh. Not really sure what I am afraid of. I don't have this totally jiggin list of jolly things. Heh. "The only thing to fear is fear itself," as I believe JFK, one of the best presidents in my disasterous opinion, said.[/size]

[size=1] I sing nearly any song I play if I am at least familiar with it. No one has told me how good I am due to the factual fact that I have not sang to anyone other than myself really. Really, it's hard to, on a personal basis, tell or know if you are a good singer. You hear your voice above all others I'd say, and you just become used to it, like with an arm or a leg or glasses. It's just there. I do have a shower radio, but I don't use it often. The radio stations we have here are crap mostly. They don't play a lot of the bands I love to death. So I don't really sing in the shower. I usually end up thinking or something. Or, I guess, if I have a song stuck in my head, I sing the verses I know. The shower is more of a thinking place for me though..especially in the morning, which is when I usually take them; then it's like getting in gear for the rest of the day. But yeah. I'd like to learn to play guitar.[/size]

[size=1] System of a Down. Metallica. Rotting Christ. Acid Bath (not exactly metal, but not exactly anything else either). Mm. I'd say Tool and Alice In Chains are more like Grunge, or whatever. But they definitely have some metal affluences and influences. Deftones. Mm. That's about all.[/size]

[size=1] I believe that honesty and truth are things that hurt more than anything in this world. And I believe that being an honest and truthful person is one of the highest things you can do to yourself and others. Not doing so only, in the end, will hurt yourself or someone else in all turns of events. So basically I try to be as honest as I can be...yet it's usually considered rude, so I don't say anything. And when I do it is then even restrained, unless I'm feeling in a bad mood. The truth is something [i]definite[/i], something [i]absolute[/i]. It can't be anything more or anything less. Yet people give themselves to things such as faith and religion and other things. It's the same way there. Honestly no one knows if there is a God. Honestly no one knows if anything is truly wrong, writing of anyone's considered. Yet they believe that the truth is already paved from and for them when it isn't. I try not to be one of these people, but humans might as well be called hypocrites. Because that is what they are.[/size]

[size=1] I never really get sick. I haven't all year so far. I do not enjoy being sick, of course. Nor do I like staying home when I am sick. It is a waste of time when I could be doing other things.[/size]