Hannibal (Brief Hits)

Harvey Dent:(holds up coin): You live. (Flips coin over) You die.
The Joker: (Smiling): Now we're talking.

Hannibal Lecter sits in his chair staring at his patient. She is Bella Crawford, wife to Jack Crawford, who is Hannibal's friend, his boss, and his unknowing pursuer. Bella is dying of lung cancer, and she has just informed Hannibal that she has taken a lethal overdose of morphine, and is about to die. This is not really a surprise, after all Hannibal all but told her take this action earlier in the episode. "Death is not a defeat, but a cure." As Hannibal considers her unconscious body, he picks up a coin that Bella had given to him as a parting gift. He considers it, and then casually give it a flip. Its heads, his decision is made. He will save her life against her will.

Mads Mikkelsen, who plays Hannibal, says he portrays the character as if he were Lucifer himself. He will meticulously influence someone to take on action, then will deliberately sabotage them, just so that he might witness the chaos that will cause. His actions to those around him seem cruel and arbitrary, like the flip of a coin. When Bella awakes to find herself very much alive she is furious at Hannibal. She doesn't understand how he could do this to her. During their earlier conversation she and Hannibal discuss the resurrection of Lazarus, and Bella laments that she doesn't know anyone in her social circles who has the power of life or death. Hannibal smirks at this insight. He knows that she is wrong.

Shine On You Crazy Diamond: My Favorite Concerts Part 2

"Damn sure better than the rain"
Gov't Mule (w/opener Back Door Slam) The Orpheum Theatre Boston 10/31/08

Warren Haynes is a hardworking man. I've seen him perform three times, each time with a different band. A hard rocking blues guitarist, Haynes currently has regular gigs playing with the Allman Brothers, The Dead, and Gov't Mule, not to mention his frequent solo tours or the eponymous Warren Haynes Band. I kind of suspect that if he ever stopped touring for a moment his body would collapse from years of built up exhaustion. Sort of like a rock and roll perpetual motion machine.

On Halloween night 2008 I made my way over to the Orpheum Theatre to catch Gov't Mule play what promised to be an interesting show. For those who don't know, in the jam band community Halloween shows are considered to be special occasions. Many bands will "dress up" as another band for one of their sets, covering songs by that band or even performing entire albums. For example the band Phish, who were one of the first bands to popularize practice, famously played Loaded by the Velvet Underground on Halloween 1998. Rumors spread through the lobby and men's room before the show that this year they would be covering Pink Floyd, as apparently an inflatable pig icon had appeared on the band's website that morning. By the time I reached my seat the buzzed crowd had managed to inflate this rumor like some stoned version of telephone, so now not only were they playing "Physical Graffiti by Pink Floyd" but that David Gilmour was in the building and would be sitting in. I even allowed myself to believe that one for half a second, but it of course turned out not to be true.

British blues band Back Door Slam opened the night with an extremely entertaining set. They had a nice mix of blues standards, and original songs that seemed heavily influenced by past British blues bands like Cream. It was easy to see why the Mule would have chosen them to open the tour. Mule then came out and played a strong first set of their own songs, as well as a fantastic tease of "St. Stephen" by the Grateful Dead, a song that's always been dear to me for obvious reasons.
After a short intermission it was time for the main event. As the band came out the unmistakable wind chasm noises began to make their way around the sound system of the Orpheum, and the band began to play "One of These Days." They then made their way through Pink Floyd's greatest hits, with lots of great little touches thrown to heighten the effect. At the end "Fearless" the soccer hooligan chant that appears on the album version of the song could be heard in the background, and at another point a giant inflatable pig popped out of the side of the stage. My favorite performance may have been their cover of "Have a Cigar." First off, drummer Matt Abts took lead vocal, since the original Floyd version featured guest vocals by a singer named Roy Harper. Secondly they changed some of the lyrics to better suit the band so when it came time to sing the famous line "Which one's Pink?" they changed it to "I really think that's cool/ By the way, which one's the Mule?"

The performance ended with one of the few Floyd songs that I believe was already in the bands repertoire, "Wish You Were Here." Then the lights came up and everyone made their way to the doors with huge smiles on their faces. I had been so dazed by the music before that I hadn't realized so many people had shown up wearing their Halloween costumes. There was Bert & Ernie, Jerry Garcia, there were even two guys dressed up as The Dude and Walter. All of them made there way out into the warm autumn night, the good vibes of the show carrying them off into whatever tricks or treats could be found at this late hour.

The Music Never Stops: My Favorite Concerts

"Saranac will do just fine"

moe. Siena College New York 11/30/01

Confession time people. I am a hippie. A "dirty hippie" as my friend Drew would say. Sure I may not look the part, I keep my hair clean and short, I wash my clothes, I believe in owning property, but make no mistake; beneath my cold dead chest beats the tye-dyed heart of a hippie.

This means I've been to a fair number of concerts in my day. There was a brief period in my life where I followed a band called moe. up and down the east coast. Since leaving college, I've had less and less times for shows, but I still try to go out and see a few concerts each year. I've decided to list off the best shows I've ever attended. In making this I'm considering not just the band's performance but the over all feel and ambiance of the entire concert. In other words, the vibes.

So lets talk about moe. As I mentioned earlier I've seen this band play a lot, probably close to twenty times. And believe me, that number is small compared to some other people I know. moe. (and that's not a typo, the correct spelling of the bands name includes a lower case m and a period at the end) has been described, somewhat unfairly, as a poorman's Phish. This is due largely to the fact that they experienced a surge in popularity in the early 2000s while Phish was on their great hiatus. But other than sharing a love of noodling guitar solos, moe. is distinctly their own band, with each show a strong mix of covers as well as their own standards.

In November of 2001, my friends and I saw that the band would be playing a show at a college in central New York. Over Thanksgiving break a few of them had gone to New York City, where moe. had put on a monster two night show at the Hammerstein Ballroom, and they were all itching to see them again. This was to be my first time seeing the band and the trip, if I remember correctly, was a spur of the moment decision. One of my friends had brought his car back to school after Thanksgiving break, and we decided the only logical thing to do was take a roadtrip. So with Josh and Rob in the front seat, and myself Jess and Gypsy piled into the back, we made the three hour trip to Loudonville New York and Siena College. Siena is a tiny little liberal arts school, the type of place I sometimes regret not attending myself. We didn't have tickets, but moe. has never been the type of band to sell out an arena, so we were able to get tickets at the box office with no problem. The concert took place in what felt like a high school auditorium, and we ended up standing practically in the front row.

It had turned out that George Harrison, my favorite Beatle, had died earlier that day, and when the band came out for the second set they performed a spectacular version of "While my Guitar Gently Weeps." That pretty much sealed the show for me as being a worthwhile trip. The rest of the show was equally solid. My freshman year roommate Tyler, who for reasons I can't remember did not make this trip, used to play their music in our room constantly, so despite never seeing them before, I was familiar with all their songs. In the years that followed, I would end up seeing other shows that had stronger set lists and tighter performances, but this one has always been my favorite. Good music with good friends, it was just an incredibly happy experience.

Here is the set list of that night's performance:

1: Bring It Back Home > Water > Jazz Wank > Spaz Medicine > Buster > Spine Of A Dog

2: While My Guitar Gently Weeps > Mexico > Bullet (That Chuck Tune) > Meat

E: The Boys Are Back In Town

And here is an mp3 of "Mexico" from that night's performance, which contains a tease in the middle for "Here Comes the Sun."

A Short, Short Story

"We have nothing in common."

And there it was, the truth at last. We had been arguing for days, but it was only now, as she stood by the front door, an overnight back slung over her shoulder, that one of us had the courage to say it. The only thing that had kept us together these past few months was nothing more than fear and inertia. Part of my mind was jealous that it was her and not me who finally made the first move. The rest of me was frantically trying to think of a reason to stop her from walking out the door.

She stared at me, daring, begging me to deny what she had said. I could feel my desperation mounting as I racked my brain. Damn it, we had been together for over three years! In all that time, there had to have been something.

She sighed. A deep bracing sigh. I knew in a moment it would become too late. We'd never be able to go back. I needed to say something, anything to stop and allow me to think.

"What about 'Breakfast at Tiffanys'?" I found myself saying.

She was quiet for a moment. One endless beat of a moment. "I remember the film," she finally said, a hint of puzzled amusement in her voice.

"Thats good" I thought, "amusement is good, I can work with that." I chose my next word carefully.

"Well," I started, licking my lips. ""As I recall, I think... we both kind of liked it."

The words hung between us for an eternity. Then slowly, she placed her bag onto the floor.

"Well then" she said nodding, her eyes welling with tears, "that's one thing we got."

*LAME GUITAR SOLO*

The Five Worst Christmas Songs Ever

Each year in the city of Boston, the local oldies station changes their format the day after Thanksgiving, and plays strictly Christmas music for the next month. And each year I happily bump off the last station in my presets to make room for it on my car radio. It generally stays on that station throughout December, but there are several songs that send me scurrying for the sports talk channel as soon as I hear their opening notes. These are the five worst offenders of Christmas cheer.

Number 5: Feliz Navidad



Most Christmas songs have been covered multiple times by multiple artists, so you might hear "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" three times in an hour, but each version adds its own take so you don't really mind. Not so with this song. Jose Feliciano's version is the only one that ever seems to get played. You would be forgiven for thinking no one else had ever attempted to sing it, and it gets played ALL. THE. TIME.

Number 4 Wonderful Christmas Time



This song isn't so much awful as it is disappointing. Seemingly cut from the same creative swath that gave us "Silly Love Song", Sir Paul seems to be saying, I'm so popular I can record some half-assed lyrics, throw in some synthesizers and you idiots will make it a standard, and be happy to do so. And we were! This is made all the more shameful by the fact that his former writing partner John Lennon wrote the fantastic "Happy Xmas (War is Over)", and the two songs are always unfairly lumped together on Christmas compilations.

Number 3 Twelve Days of Christmas



Not much to say on this one, other than the fact that this song in interminable, and for some reason remains a staple at every child's Christmas pageant for the past sixty years.

Number 2 Any version of the Little Drummer Boy not sung by David Bowie and Bing Crosby



The Bing and Bowie version is a stone cold classic, and is one of only three Christmas songs I let stay on my iPod all year round (the other two are "Fairy Tale of New York, and the version of "Baby its Cold Outside" sung by Zooey Deschanel). Other takes on the song lean way too heavily on the parum pa pums, and end up working my last nerve.

Number 1 The Christmas Shoes

The mother fucking Christmas shoes! I'm not even going to include a link, that is how deep my disgust runs for "The Christmas Shoes." The hideously maudlin tale of some jerk buying a little kid a pair of shoes for his dying Mom to wear to heaven, it is an abomination against God and man, and it must be destroyed. Fortunately it seems to have made its way out of the rotation this year, but in the past it damn near inescapable.

Read a Book!

Achilles? The Illiad? It's Homer! Read a book!

Dennis Lehane has been one of my favorite authors going on twelve years now. I first started reading his books while I was in high school, and quickly worked my way through his series of detective novels featuring Boston PIs Patrick Kenzie and Angie Gennaro. Gone Baby Gone, his fourth novel, is generally regarded as the series highpoint, and it was made into an excellent movie with Casey Affleck a few years ago. My favorite though has always been the second book Darkness Take my Hand. A huge step up stylistically from his debut novel, it really sets the template for the rest of the books to come. Plus it features serial killer clowns driving around Dorchester in a murder van, how can I not love it?

For the past ten years Lehane has seemingly tried to leave his mystery roots behind him. Claiming that he didn't want to turn into another Robert Parker churning out the same tired old book every eighteen months, he instead branched out, writing a few period novels, as well as achieving a successful career in Hollywood writing for shows like "The Wire." In fact he had made it clear in several interviews that he had no intention of returning to Kenzie and Gennaro, saying they weren't returning his calls. Which left me both surprised and a little worried when I saw that his latest work was a direct sequel to Gone Baby Gone. Would he have lost his handle on the characters voices in the preceding years? The answer I'm happy to say is no.

The story of Moonlight Mile picks up the characters lives in the present day, have aged ten real time years since we last saw them. Patrick and Angie, having just reconciled at the end of the last book, are now married with young daughter. Patrick has taken up a job doing freelance detective work for a big company that caters to the rich and powerful of New England who wish to keep their tawdry scandals discreet. He's fairly miserable as the story begins, as he and Angie are living paycheck to paycheck, and he finds himself both wishing for and disgusted by, the prospect of working for this investigation firm full time. One day on his way to work he is confronted by the aunt of Amanda McCreedy, the girl he found over twelve years ago, and had ripped away from the caring couple who kidnapped her from a neglectful drug addled mother. Amanda is now sixteen years old, and has disappeared again. And everyone seems to think Patrick owes it to her to find her again.

Its a very enjoyable story, and works both as a sequel and as a capper to the entire series. It earns bonus points from me for a key scene that occurs in the trailer park that is less than a mile from my home. I'd highly recommend this book to anyone who has enjoyed spending time with these characters in the past.

Money Never Sleeps

Oh Sally Sparrow, I love you so.

I went to the movies on Saturday with every intention of seeing the new Ben Affleck flick "The Town." Much to my surprise the two seven o'clock showings were sold out, despite this being its second week in theaters. (That may have something to do with my trying to see the movie in Boston, where the only thing we love more in life than sports is movies that make our citizens look like hardened gangsters.) Rather than wait around an hour for the next showing, I took a quick look at what else was playing and decided to check out Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps.

The previews had looked promising enough, at least as promising as any twenty year old sequel featuring Shia Labeouf can look. Michael Douglas was back as Gordon Gecko, with Oliver Stone directing, though the script was not by him. It plays largely like a remake of the first movie, with Shia standing for Charlie Sheen, Josh Brolin in the corporate raider role, and the mortgage crisis taking the place of insider training. This part of the story is fairly paint by numbers, but it was mostly redeemed by the other aspects of the story. Its basically a fictionalized version of the collapse of Lehman Bros, and the bursting of the housing bubble. The scenes that take place in the Fed board room are fascinating and feel like something out the Godfather. They even feature the fantastic Eli Wallach, who played a mafia Don in the otherwise forgettable Godfather Part III. It's reminiscent of Stone's other heightened history films like "W." "JFK" and "Nixon", and I gladly could have watched a whole film based around these scenes.

The other factor the film has going for it is Michael Douglas as Gecko. He's spent eight of the last twenty years locked up for his crimes, and the remaining years remaking himself into an author and cable news guest staple. After Shia looses his mentor at the beginning of the film he seeks Gecko out, ostensibly to reunite him with his estranged daughter, but what Shia really wants is someone to Sherpa him through the underworld of Wall Street. The film tries to play coy with Gecko's real motivations, I won't spoil what it is, but you shouldn't be surprised. I will say a last second "twist" feels tacked on, as if the producers were afraid to commit to the logical ending to story. Which is really too bad, as the scene that preceded, Gecko, alone in his office, staring at the gift Shia had given him would have been a powerful end for the character.

Overall, I'd rate the movie a B-. It's a sequel that no one was clamoring for, but its not the disaster it could have been.

Endings Part 2

If nothing we do matters, then all that matters is what we do.

Well, this blog fell off the face of the earth much quicker than I thought. I had planned out these posts to coincide with the end of the TV season, now hear we are three months later, and everything is staring up again. Ah well, I write better in the autumn anyway. Rather than do a full write up of my favorite finales like I planned, I'll just do a quick rundown of the ones that have made a lasting impression on me.

First up is "Not Fade Away" from Angel. Named for the Buddy Holly song (or depending on your perspective, the Grateful Dead song), it was originally conceived of as regular season finale, until word came down that a sixth season was not going to happen. The whole fifth season was a bit of an amazing disaster, as studio meddling had forced the producers to abandon the serial storytelling that had become the series hallmark, as well as having Buffy refuge Spike join the cast. Even though it was wildly inconsistent, when the show worked, it was producing some of the best stories of the whole series. The core principle of Angel was that the so called evils of the world can never be defeated, all we can do is continue to fight against them until the day we die. So its only fitting that the last image we see of the Angel gang is them preparing to face the wrath and hordes of hell, where they all almost certainly met their death. A stupid sacrifice? Maybe, but they fought the good fight.

The bones is your's DAD!

"Fall Out," the finale of cult 1960s series The Prisoner, is another matter entirely. Like most British TV, it was conceived of as a limited series. In fact the original order of seven episodes was extended to twenty six, before being cut back down to seventeen. By the time of the finale the battle between prisoner No. 6 and his captors had grown increasingly more symbolic, and the the spy nature of the series became completely superfluous. No. 6 became a symbol of the individual vs conformity, the spy genre provided a convenient outlet to tell these types of stories, but once these were set up, it was essentially discarded. "Fall Out" is full of what can only be called mind-fuckery. It is scene after scene of baffling symbolism, actors who may or may not be reprising characters from earlier in the series, and the most sinister use of "All You Need is Love" I've ever seen. In the end No. 6 is seemingly allowed to leave, after first confronting the man who has imprisoned him for so long SPOILER FOR A FORTY YEAR OLD SERIES: it's himself.

This ending proved highly controversial to say the least. Poll Prisoner fanatics, and you're likely to find the same jaded opinion that currently is making its way through Lost fandom, that it was a cop out and a let down. Me though, I sat stunned and laughing like a fool through the whole thing. Its beautifully crazy, just like the rest of the series, and I love it for it.

Endings Part 1

It only ends once. Anything that happens before then is just progress.

Finales are tricky things. For the vast duration of their run, television shows are expected to provide satisfying stories that never reach a conclusion. Situations and people may change over the course of the series, but they are always attempting to maintain some form of status quo. That's why when producers are asked to place a capstone on their long running series, so many find themselves completely unsure of how to do it. They have just spent dozens, maybe even hundreds of hours putting off this conclusion, its no wonder the list of failures outnumber the successes.

To a certain extent its unfair to put so much emphasis on just one episode. If the journey up until that point was enjoyable, does a less than satisfactory ending really change what came before? I watch and laugh at Seinfeld reruns almost every night, yet I haven't watched their disappointing finale since it first aired. Seinfeld however didn't have a serialized story, so its easy to ignore episodes that don't work. A show like Battlestar Galactica, however, can have its entire run ruined by mediocre ending.

Its now been a week since the LOST finale aired, and by now anyone who cares knows that *SPOILERS* the flash-sideways that have taken up the majority of the season are actually a form of a purgatorial way station that our characters have reached after they died, and that once they all realize this, they can move on to the next stage of existence (I swear, it made sense in context). It was a bold choice, and not one that everyone liked. Personally I loved it, but I won't deny that it has a whiff of "it was a all a dream," one of the hoariest of tv tropes.

In the next couple of weeks, I plan to take a look at some of the series finales that managed to do justice to what came before them, as well as some that managed to retroactively ruin the show. All my opinion of course, but then in these matters, I am always right, and if you disagree, you are always wrong.

First Post

Lately I've felt like something has been missing from my life, some lost piece that is keeping me from feeling whole. As I sat contemplating what it could be, (a meaningful relationship? a satisfying job? a belief in a higher power?)I realized it could only be one thing. I needed a public diary where I could share my private thoughts and writings with the entire internet! Oh happy day, kalu kalay!

Seriously we'll see how long this lasts or how far it goes, blogs are really just an excuse to keep your writing skills sharp, and that's something that I need. So look for posts on whatever may be going through my mind. TV reviews, what books I've been reading, etc. If I get drunk enough you may even be subjected to what I charitably call poetry. For now I'll leave you with some words of wisdom from Al Swearengen, the lovable pimp and barkeep of the town of Deadwood, and the inspiration for this blog's name. "In life you have to do a lot of things you don't fucking want to do. Many times, that's what the fuck life is... one vile fucking task after another. "