Postcard from Commuting Hell

February 19, 2006... I've been commuting two-and-a-half hours each way, every day for the past two weeks. As a consequence, I haven't had much time or energy to devote to the blog. The worst of the ordeal is almost over, though: on Tuesday, I move into a fetid dump of my own in The Biggest Smoke.

The Mothers - Fifty-Fifty

I had to shit so bad on the bus Friday night, I thought I was gonna sprout a tail. Didn't help that I was reading an article in Now magazine about an un-named celebrity whose favourite form of post-coital repose is laying in bed with an unwitting paramour and a steaming, fresh mound of poo...

So, why didn't I just get up out of my seat and take a dump, you ask? Well, unless I am mistaken, Greyhound Canada has a monopoly on the route, so there is little compelling them to keep their buses clean. I mean, I've seen a lot of Greyhound buses over the past two weeks and there ain't been one clean enough for my shit. Seriously! In one motherfucker, there was no tap on the faucet in the john. In another, every seat--and I mean every single, fucking one--had black stains all over it.

Greyhound puts buses on the road with seat backs that won't stay up and reading lights that don't work, too. Don't even get me started on their on-time performance--particularly not on their "express" trips. You know, the "express" trips with stops (!) along the way...

There are bus lines in poor countries that out-class Greyhound Canada by country mile. I mean, I took a bus in Brazil once, on which a video tape of The Mask was played and free coffee was provided. And that motherfucker was clean, too...

So that's why I didn't just get up out of my seat and take a dump. That, plus the fact that there were three young hotties sitting in the row next to the john at the time. I mean, if they knew I shitted, and that my shit stank, well... I think you know what I mean.

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Killing Two Birds With One Stone

February 5, 2006... Rhythm Pigs were a hardcore punk trio, originally from El Paso, eventually based in San Francisco, that put out a couple of killer LPs in the mid-to-late eighties. At the time, had anyone asked me, I would've said they sounded "a bit like Z.Z. Top." But I've been listening to them again lately and have come to realize that's not quite right...

Rhythm Pigs - Too High

One of the first things you'll notice about Rhythm Pigs is Greg Adams' trademark blowtorch guitar sound, achieved by pumping thick, saturated distortion through a swirl-effect phaser pedal--and not just in spots, mind you, but in almost every song. (In this respect, Rhythm Pigs were a little reminiscent of the mighty Husker Du.)

Doubtless, you'll also notice Ed Ivey's soothing, Teddy Bear voice, which he used to ... (horrors!) ... sing. This is out of the ordinary for hardcore punk, where shouting and growling are more typical.

There were elements of country, blues, bluegrass and funk in Rhythm Pigs' music. And, as evidenced by the cover of "Fire," and the sly allusion in the title of the song "Arkansas (Slight Return)," both on the 1987 album, Choke on This, they had an awareness of Jimi Hendrix.

But the thing that really jumps out at me about Rhythm Pigs, in retrospect, is how influenced they were by southern rock. Go back and listen to the instrumental parts in "Too High" again... That riff is Z.Z. Top, sure, but it's Lynyrd Skynyrd and the Allman Brothers and Molly Hatchet, too. It's bloozy. It's boogie. It's southern-fried. And it's all over the band's repertoire.

Still, Rhythm Pigs were punk rock, first and foremost, and nowhere was that clearer than in their lyrics.

Rhythm Pigs - Censorshit

Ain't it "funny" how, all these years later, we find ourselves fighting a battle for freedom of expression again?

Doubtless, you've heard by now that some Muslims are insensed by the printing, in various European newspapers, of comic strips depicting the prophet Mohammed. Some believe that any depiction of the founder of Islam is blasphemous. Others reserve their anger for specific, more controversial depictions. In the one most frequently cited, Mohammed is portrayed as wearing a headdress in the shape of a bomb.

I've had a look at the comic strips in question--and let me tell you, they weren't easy to find. Apparently fearing retribution, legal or extra-legal, very few web sites have made the images available. They can still be seen here, however.

As far as I am concerned, whether one is offended by the image in which Mohammed is portrayed as wearing a bomb is largely dependent on how one interprets the image. My interpretation is that the artist was trying to say that certain persons' interpretations of Mohammed's ideas have been used to justify violence. I suspect that many other people would concur with both my interpretation and the understanding of recent world history it is based on.

But, really, that's beside the point. The point is that ours is a non-secular society, where freedom of religion and freedom of expression are valued and protected.

Those wishing to live in a society where a small minority decides what can be read and written are encouraged to move to that sort of society. There are plenty to choose from.

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The Sound of Food Poisoning

February 4, 2006... A recent feature about Burt Bacharach and Hal David at Vinyl Mine got me thinking about my favourite schmalz peddlars.

I don't know about you, but when I listen to the trumpet at the beginning of this song, the image I see in my mind's eye is of the trumpeter, his skin green, his eyelids heavy, his breathing shallow, having spent the previous night shitting out his guts after eating a order of bad veal parmagiana.

Burt Bacharach and Hal David - The Look of Love

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