I am not ashamed again

This song was my first exposure to Megadeth and Trent Reznor.

Isn’t that cool?

Now that I have started recording and writing music, I appreciate Reznor’s pioneering talents all the more. As far as Megadeth is concerned; I enjoy them so much more than Metallica. Before I start getting hate mail from metalheads make sure you understand what I am writing here. I like Metallica, but I like Megadeth more. It is as simple as that. No hate. It always has been a ridiculous rivalry.

This little song is an amalgation of Megadeth’s Symphony of Destruction and Trent Reznor’s mixing skills. The Countdown to Extinction CD is Megadeth’s opus. It is one of the few tapes that I managed to wear out.

Mysteriously, this tape disappeared, along with Alice in Chains, Sepultura, and various t-shirts. I wonder where they went......MOM!

The Latest Obsession

The Professor and Z-man have really gotten me back into video games. It is that damnable Halo! I have gotten myself addicted, and I have drug my family along for the ride.

I have always had an infatuation with video games. My uncles had an Atari 2600 and I spent countless hours fighting with my Ida-bros just to have a chance to play such classics as Pac-man, Pitfall, and Empire Strikes Back. At about this time I and a few other grandkids unearthed an odd Pong system at another set of Grandparents. Hours were consumed on Pong. Then my Momma married Beach Grandpa. Lo and behold! He also had an Atari 2600 that we abused until the power supply input broke off inside of the case. I always managed to find a console at the D.I. and we played many a game of Combat, Asteroids, Circus, Breakout, & Snoopy and the Red Baron. Good times.

My infatuation led to a fascination with computers and later I was playing such greats as Castle Wolfenstein, Dune II, Doom, & Blood. I miss the days of playing from a 5 1/4" floppy! Along came the arduous task known as college and my gaming days were few and far between. All the while, The Professor was tempting me with his N64, Dreamcast, and Xbox. Then I traded a fishing rod for an Xbox. Now I find that a night without at least one round of Dr. Mario on the old game box is a wasted evening. My wife and I refer to it as my "Halo Therapy."

At any rate, a coworker, who shall remain nameless, addicted me to Guitar Hero. It did not help matters that The Professor brought his version of this game during his last jaunt here. My wife, bless her brown little soul, was hopelessly addicted as well. The Professor returned to his castle in Academia, and we had no more Guitar Hero.

Alas! I heard a rumor that one of my scouts had a broken PS2. This was good...because I can fix broken. After a little horse trading, I held in my manly, fat hand one beat up, slightly grimy PS2 Slim. A little solder, some research, some more research, an internet order, some patience, and a little elbow grease was all it took to have this baby playing again. Now the Goddess and I can play Guitar Hero to our hearts content. The kids eat cereal every night, but they’ll last until this obsession runs its course.

The unit all bare naked and stuff, ready for repair.

My trusty aide. He performed quite a bit of the surgery himself. He also reaped the rewards! I am glad that he got to experience the rush of fixing a problem like this. It was a great experience doing this with him.

One of the offending items. The laser assembly. Notorious for failing in the Slim models. It is highly unlikely that this whole unit is bad, I may install just the laser and keep this assembly as a spare.

And we all lived happily ever after.

Perhaps this is too personal?

I have had the unbelievably good fortune of marrying my first love. She and I met many years before it was proper to date with the object of marriage in mind and somehow we just couldn’t let go of each other. We spent our youth together, and in many ways, we grew to be the same person.

Those of you who know the Goddess, know what an impulsive, passionate, and slightly crazy individual she is. It is one her greatest attractants. If I told her that I wanted to build a cabin in Siberia and live off of the land, she wouldn’t hesitate to see it as an adventure, and we could walk out the door that same minute. I wouldn’t trade her fiery Puerto Rican temper and passion for anything on this Earth.

Her most endearing quality is her unfailing, unflinching, sense of honesty. I have never met a person so honest. Even when it meant certain heartache, she would speak her thoughts. The older I get, I appreciate this sort of thing all the more. The great thing about a person with this attribute is that you always know where you stand.

I just wanted to say something that had a tone of gratitude. My fair wife is something I find myself grateful often these days. She makes life good and bad, but unlivable without her.

We’ve come a long way baby. There no words for where we are.

Achtung! Spoilers Ahead

Warning! This post is jam packed with spoilers for "No Country for Old Men."

I found some peace in a most unlikely place during the Christmas break. I watched a movie with the Original Voodoo and Whodoggy entitled "No Country for Old Men." The movie was shocking, intensely gripping, and a great letdown (which I loved). This might be one of the most perfect movies ever made.



As I have perused the internets for the insight of others. There seems to be one scene that has become controversial. It is the scene where the old sheriff Ed Tom Bell returns to the scene of the crime where Moss was killed. I think that the simplest answer is the answer. I believe the Chigurh is really behind the door, and Ed Tom Bell simply missed finding him. If Ed Tom Bell would have looked behind the door, violence would have ensued, most likely resulting in the death of the sheriff. A .38 is no match for buck shot at close range and Chigurh would have simply shot through the door, having the advantage of surprise and superior firepower.



Back to this idea of me finding peace from this here violent movie. Simply put; it was Chigurh, who I think represents the uncertainty of death that we all face. There was a thread of rhyme and reason to his killing, but one thing it was not, was fair. Just like death, it never seems fair. Every character I was rooting for, was killed in this movie. Except for Ed Tom Bell, and I wasn’t really invested in him until the very last lines of the film. Moss was toasted by the Mexicans. Moss’ wife was killed by Chigurh. By the way, she was a true heroine, most unlike the super-acrobatic-invincible-skanks I so loathe in most newer movies (think Keira Knightley in King Arthur). She faced death without bargaining. I fell in love with her simple, resolute bravery. The only person I really wanted dead in this movie was death himself; Chigurh. And he never does die. Ed Tom Bell never catches him and fades into what seems to be a contented retirement. Life never was meant to be fair, and I found a granule of peace in the portrayal of that fact in this movie.



I never got my way when it came to this story, and I say that it’s about time.