Unheard Cure

It has been a long time since the last update. Here is a podcast with some lesser-known Cure songs. Enjoy. It will probably be a few more weeks before the next update.

Rush Limbaugh is Wasted

On today's Rush Limbaugh broadcast, El Rushbo admitted that he was wasted. The audio is here -- not edited at all (although perhaps only slightly out of context).

Tee Vee

Joe Feeney with a nice rendition of "Love, Here is my Heart" originally from 1964 on the Lawrence Welk show. Notice how Geritol sponsored the show even then? [Video is down but I'm keeping the post up for the sake of completeness.]

Hot New Music

Some hot new music for you -- all stuff released this year.

From a Child's Book

I have a fuzzy brown spot, can you touch it with your toes?

Last Post of Christian Nostalgia

At last, the last Christian podcast is here. The last song is also the last song I ever played over the airwaves during my radio days.

Cobra Kai

Cobra Kai. Strike First, Strike Hard, Show NO MERCY.

Canibus Concert

I attended a Canibus concert recently. I was pretty close to the front, as you can see. This is for real.

I LOVE Trader Joe's!

Here's another Unwilted completly unpaid advertisment. Trader Joe's. At first glance, a crappy little pseudo-grocery store. Upon more inspection, the best damn source for food and alcohol in the country. I've had four of their beers tonight, and I must say that they are top-knotch. Best hefeweitzen outside of Deutchland. I had some of their frozen pasta for dinner. I had some of their trail mix for a snack this afternoon. And I had some of their cereal for breakfast. Everything is top-quality and low-cost. In addition to the beer, wine, and frozen foods, there are many other favorites. The hummus, the vodka ("Vodka of the Gods"), the whole fruit jelly, the salads, the juices, the pita chips, the bread. On and on. If you live near a Trader Joe's and you don't know it, you are missing out.

Silence!

After about five months of listening to my computer sound like a blender or weed eater, I finally mustered up the balls to replace the video card fan -- the source of the problem. Damn near had to break the video card to get the crappy old fan off. But I was going to either replace the fan or break the card and buy a new one. The noise became that extreme.

The new fan is from Arctic Cooling. It is so huge that I had to take out the modem next to the video card, but I wasn't using that anyway (I have not used a modem in 6 years, and doing so would probably drive me to alcoholism).

As you might guess (because I'm able to write this), it all worked out. The difference is huge. Now I notice all sorts of noises that never even existed before.

Anyway, this is a huge quality of life increase. We use the computer for all our music and TV, in addition to the standard internet stuff, such as porn. Let the good times roll!

More Christian Music

As the below post indicates, I'm not exactly in a Christian music nostalgia trip sort of mood. But I pretty much had these particular songs lined up and ready to go. With the exception of one song (the second), these are more obscure than the previous Christian podcast. So here it is. A special prize to whomever can identify each of the artists.

Maybe I'm just not in a Christian mood because my icon for this blog (a picture of Jesus with guns and blood) has disappeared from the web. It was from some "Jesus Freaking" website. I kept meaning to save a copy for myself, but never did. Jesus left me.

I previously pointed out the irony that most of my Christian music was stolen. Also ironic are all the many unholy--even unnatural--acts perfomed with this holy music as a soundtrack. A lot of the Christian music sounds like pop music (most of it bad pop music). We just sort of ignored the lyrics. Or pretended that the "precious love" that they were singing about was of a more terrestrial sort. Some of the songs and artists -- Amy Grant, Margaret Becker, for example -- even sounded sexual when they sang to the Lord.

A suggestion to the local Christian radio station: take a black light through the studio. The carpet may need to be replaced before the next Shareathon.

Hot New Look

Unwilted has a hot new look. But what will I do when I'm not feeling goth?

Christian Nostalgia

Those of you old timers may enjoy this post, but the rest of you will be scratching your heads. In any case, I was driving home yesterday with the ipod on shuffle and a Keith Green song came up. Which set me down a road of nostalgia which continued when I got home. I dusted off some old Christian CDs (all of which were stolen -- an irony that brought me some pleasure at the time and even now). This is the first of what will probably be three Christian podcasts. Enjoy! And if there are requests for specific songs, I can try to do a fourth (assuming I have the songs).

The Big Lie

The below article was simply too good, so I'm copying all of it. It is from salon.com and the orignal link is here.

Who tells the truth to a man -- or perhaps a nation -- driving into the setting sun, convinced he's heading due east?

By Garrison Keillor

Jan. 18, 2006 | It's good to know how to lie, and lie effectively, so you can go backstage after the high school production of "The Crucible" in which your friend's daughter mumbled her lines and stood like a fencepost, trying to look horrified and looking drugged instead, and now here she is, fluttery, ashen-faced, perspiring, and you say, "It was fascinating to watch. You were so in the moment, Lindsey. So believable. It really resonated with that audience, there was so much intensity." The truth is that she has no more talent than the average cocker spaniel -- but so what? There's no need to face the truth all at once.

People ask you how you are, you say fine, even if you have a grinding headache. People congratulate you on having done a fine job raising your children, you say thank you, even though you know the truth.

On the other hand, one should not lie to oneself. If the book you've been working on for two years is a leaking boat that needs to be scuttled, this is not to be denied. You look in the mirror and it's clear: The zero-dessert policy must now go into effect. Your wife says your drinking is a problem. That means it's a problem.

On the third hand, self-deception is useful. Some things are better endured by ignoring them. Old age, for one. The whining sound under your seat on the 727 flying over Lake Michigan, for another. And when you're feeling overwhelmed by your obligations, it's better just to put on your blinders and haul the beer wagon forward.

But everyone needs a few friends with whom one can be honest. I quit smoking 20-some years ago because my friend Butch Thompson and I promised each other that we'd try to quit, and that before smoking another cigarette, we would call up the other one and tell him. This worked like a charm. I dreaded having to make that call, so did he, and we each trusted the other to be honest. This is what friends are for. If you go and do a shameful thing, such as shoot your parents so you can inherit their estate, you should have at least one friend to whom you could confide the cheesy details. You'd say, "I couldn't believe that was me, aiming the pistol at the back of Mom's head as she stood at the Mixmaster. I am feeling, like, totally remorseful right now. And I'm wondering if, like, it might've been a sugar rush from, like, the Twinkies." And the friend would say, "Well, you were having some big mood swings. And the job market is tight, so naturally you were anxious about money. But those bright orange coveralls look rather striking on you. And this Plexiglas partition between us doesn't bother me as much as I had thought it would. And I don't think you would've been a good parent anyway, so it's lucky that you won't have to face that question."

I have not been that sort of close confidant to my friends, alas. They don't reveal the seamy underside of their lives to me, perhaps because I am a writer who might exploit their shameful story, or perhaps because they have no shameful secrets to share. Or because they believe you're supposed to say "Fine" when someone asks how you are.

But who tells the truth to the man who is driving straight into the setting sun and thinks he's heading due east? His wife murmurs that, uh, maybe we should look at a map, and he accuses her of being a defeatist who tries to tear him down any way she can in order to conceal her own lack of ideas. The man is heading the wrong way and speeding and the idiot light is flashing -- low oil pressure -- and the idiot is trying to be manly and authoritative but everyone can see he's faking it, hoping for God to rearrange the landscape for his convenience. Someone ought to speak up, and yet he is fascinating. As the administration is these days, so resonant and believable. The Arctic icecap melts and the Chinese finance our tax cuts and someday we will have spent six years and trillions of dollars to bring democracy to Iraq, whatever that may mean, and the SUV of state turns toward the setting sun, driven by cocker spaniels. And there is so much intensity there, and they are so much in the moment.

Butt Rock

Just enjoying the MLK day in my own special way. Listening to some butt rock and having a Hurricane High Gravity or two or three. The swill is piss but it will get you there, if you know what I mean. So for those of you with a similar disposition, here are some kick ass jams to get you through the night. The rest of you can fuck off.