Something 4 Sandy Hook

Japandroids:  Celebration Rock:  "The House That Heaven Built"  [mp3]

After the shit that went down in Connecticut this morning, I found myself sitting at my desk playing all of the loudest, most anthemic and energizing music I could find on my hard drive.  Music to combat the deep sadness, music to express the frustrated anger in the wake of another senseless atrocity.  Music to fight the tears.

(Gun control, video games, the mental health system, our economy, etcetera etcetera...)

I'm simply not interested in the same dull round of talking heads making the same tired points about the same old causes of murder.  I don't particularly give a shit about what Reddit has to say, just like you could give a fuck about what I'm about to say...

Twenty little kids killed this morning, among others, and you know as well as I do that this won't be the last time.  And even though today's tragedy feels like the worst one yet, you know as well as I do that it won't feel like the worst forever, because every new one is the worst one yet.  And you know you'll cry again at your desk at work, and you just hope no one notices because it wrongly feels wrong to cry at fucking work at your fucking desk, but goddammit, the shit just keeps going down and there is no other answer except that some people are simply fucked in the head, but that's no fucking answer, is it?

So right now I just want to dance and sing and bang my fists on the coffee table and I dunno, celebrate the fact that I'm alive and singing and banging my fists on the fucking coffee table.

I hope there were some small mercies in that school this morning.  I hope we all are shown a little mercy when our time comes.  Sadly, I think that's the best we can hope for.

Hank

Young Hearts Spark Sideways Maneuver

Vancouver's own, Japandroids, doing a swell and nifty tune entitled "Young Hearts Spark Fire"...

Hotcha! Hank

Something 4 The Weekend # 124

Japandroids: Post-Nothing: "Heart Sweats" [mp3]

June, 2001...

We were parked on a rarely-used access road that's kinda hidden in the tall grass across Anderson Road at the end of the Madison Airport runway, wasting the night away on the hood of my '77 LTD with a bottle of Maker's Mark and a baggie of a fairly potent weed she claimed was called "Blueberry Mist", though it tasted like bacon to me...I don't really have a problem with bacon-flavored weed, though...

"Bacon Mist"...

Anyways, we layed there on the hood of my '77 LTD, with our backs against the windshield, staring up at the stars and waiting for the occasional airplane to fly overhead, roaring past no more than 200 or 300 feet above our heads...We talked about older days, the early '90's in Grafton, and all the crazy shit that happened at my old beatnik pad above the Sub Shop, and the even crazier shit that happened with Nuts The Amazing Man and all those other freaks and bikers up in Fillmore and Waubeka...

Memories of good times and crazy shit from a decade past, and as we began to hear the faint hum of another approaching plane in the distance, she asked if I rememebered the time we fucked on the roof of the laundromat, and I replied "how could I forget?", and before the question could land she had her hand down my pants and wrapped around my cock.

That was eight years ago, and late last night she called from a Vancouver area code and left a drunk and/or stoned message on my voicemail, asking me if I remembered the night she gave me a handjob on the hood of '77 LTD out by the airport.

"How could I forget?" I thought to myself as I listened back to her message this morning, though to be honest, I was mostly overcome by a deep and sudden craving for a BLT sandwich.

Which is exactly what I had for lunch today...

Hotcha! Hank