Beer and music have long been in cahoots, and the folks over at Beck’s are bringing the two back together in the most literal sense. With help from the New Zealand-based agency Shine, they’ve created the Edison Bottle, the world’s first playable bottle of beer.
Will be attending. Well, according to the site, will be attending pending “venue capacity, RSVP’ing DOES NOT guarantee entry.”
Due to what I’m guessing was an overwhelming response from crazy Title Fight fans, the page with the link to tickets crashed for a solid 45 minutes starting when tickets were set to go on “free.”
Tickets are still available, so capacity at the door on the day of show could be a mess.
I’ll also be trying to attend Kid Dynamite/Joyce Manor/Red Hare/Swearin’ on August 15.
Today, the ACLU has announced a lawsuit against the Obama administration over the attack of freedoms. Since the freakishly broad nature of the NSA snooping was revealed, it’s been a huge issue of contention. Lawmakers, the ones within the government who benefit from the information, are generally supporting it. According to a Pew poll, civilians, the ones who are being surveilled, are split. If the poll is accurate, Americans lean towards supporting the NSA, but I question what the reaction would be if they knew for a fact that they were the ones being surveilled. Some say surveillance like this is necessary for national security, and that civilians did not need to know PRISM is happening – a wonderfully cliche position that ignorance is bliss.
So I offer a song this week that makes light of a dark situation. A band of fellows who sing about crime in a way that makes committing ones sound like a punk show. Some Masked Intruder for you all, for the sweet irony of pop-punk licks and sad, sad subject matter that they provide. Also for the fact that I can make a pun off the lyric “love is a prison” in my head by turning it into “love is a PRISM.”
… And the research I did for the article, all the links I found and linked, I’m sure are now in the NSA’s database, too.
These two events are hardly the first moments of government secrecy, but they did come to light awfully close together. How can a government and police force exist for the people when they violate the very laws they’re supposed to be upholding?
We’re living in an state of being where we’re told more and more frequently it shouldn’t matter that we’re losing our civil liberties if we have nothing to hide. Meanwhile, we’re living under a law system that is becoming increasingly more secretive. I see a serious disconnect when people are seen as inherently guilty rather than innocent, while the powers that are supposed to protect justice engage in an ever-expanding blackout.
Try and tell me we’re not living in a world gone crazy. The Slackers know it, and they’re right.
Blogger’s note: I realize I used a Slackers song for the AP story, too. It’s coincidence, but it was so fitting to use one of their songs here, too, that I couldn’t not do it. RudieTuesdays for the win.
And pre-order their new album. Or just buy a t-shirt. But I mean why would you pass up the opportunity to own some more wonderfully poppy, turn-your-brain-into-flowers-and-puppies-and-goo, catchy-licious Lemuria tunes on vinyl.
And go see them live this summer some places in the U.S. but mostly in the U.K.
The local line up features Claire’s Diary, The Tablets, Tiny Tusks and Bad Behavior. The evening will combine live performances with short films by the artist Itziar Barrio between sets, which delve into feminist oriented concepts and Brooklyn’s cultural landscape.
Because Memorial Day weekend (and any weekend, really. Or weekday, for that matter) is a good weekend to celebrate some awesome women.
It’s another rudieTuesday, which means another day where I equate a news event with a song.
Seems like this is another week where I’m left writing about a story that I wish I didn’t have to talk about. The good thing is this week’s disaster wasn’t a deliberate act of human hatred; the bad is that natural disasters can leave just as tragic a mess in their wake.
As of when I’m writing this, 91 people are reported to have died. Just a few hours ago, that number stood at about 50. By the time you see this, it will probably be an even higher statistic.
Having lived the vast majority of my life on the east coast, tornadoes were for a long time very foreign to me. I knew of the movie Twister. I had seen photos of them happening; a 400×600 pixel .jpg cannot do justice to the sheer power of a real tornado touching land. I heard stories of one passing through my college alma mater, but any aftermath of the minimal damage had been fixed long before I arrived.
It’s strange to see the aftermath of such destruction up close. To me, hurricanes were expected, but tornadoes were once so foreign. They leave a very specific, and very brutal, type of damage in their wake. Survivors of storms like this can be left with post-traumatic stress disorder, just like someone returning from war can experience it.
Unless I ever have to live through a natural disaster, I can never know the terror felt by everyone in that Oklahoma City suburb last night. I can never know the loss felt by families in Henryville who lost a doublewide trailer, the only home they knew, as they huddled in shacks and hoped for their lives to be spared by the storm.
What I can know, and what I did learn, is the strength people have inside them to rebuild. People will mourn; we will have ups and downs. Some will never recover from the mental stress; others will immediately run outside once the storm has passed to look for neighbors in need. Communities can and do band together with solidarity they didn’t know they could posses.
Moore will recover, just as will Henryville, and Joplin, and other communities affected by disaster natural and otherwise, at home and abroad. The communities have a support system within themselves, an inevitable bond with each other, and solidarity from others who can only empathize from afar.
It’s going to be a long, long road. But the survivors will rebuild, move on, and become stronger as a result.