Make It Stop
Only you can stop audience abuse. By not going to this movie.
Make It Stop Only you can stop audience abuse. By not going to this movie. by Molly Templeton Continue reading
We've got issues.
Make It Stop Only you can stop audience abuse. By not going to this movie. by Molly Templeton Continue reading
Nerds (said with love, people; I am one, OK?) sometimes come back from nerd conventions talking about having caught “con crud,” an unavoidable illness caught while in the company of so frakking many other people. I woke up on Friday with what I’ll call “festival funk.” I blame everyone, no one and my own late hours. Take your vitamins, SXSW campers. Or at least drink your vodka with orange juice. Festival funk will screw with your days. Continue reading
What all the excited, giddy, half-drunken tweets from SXSW don’t tell you is how much time you’re likely to spend walking from venue to venue and/or waiting in line for shows you may or may not get into. I’m not complaining. I’m just telling you why I feel like a total slacker for how few bands I’ve seen the last two days. Goddammit! My scheduling powers are no match for the distance between the Cedar Street Courtyard and the Scoot Inn! Continue reading
You know what I would like? I’d like for St. Patrick’s Day not to fall during SXSW. I overheard my first “Where’s your green?” conversation before noon. Sixth Street doesn’t need this. Drunken music fans + drunken, green-garbed college kids = double the mayhem. I expect to see piles of green, and I don’t mean shiny green leprechaun money. Continue reading
How to Die in Oregon isn’t an easy film to watch. Peter D. Richardson’s documentary focuses not on the legal or philosophical issues and ramifications of Oregon’s Death with Dignity act, but on the personal stories of people who have chosen to use the option the act gives them. Or, to be more specific, they’ve chosen the possibility, the measure of control afforded by having in hand a prescription for life-ending medication. The result isn’t a balanced, political film, but it isn’t trying to be. Continue reading
The way I feel about running can be summed up in one tiny word: No. No, no, no; no to being sweaty and uncomfortable and having aching knees and feeling like I can’t breathe. (I blame high school gym class for all of this, by the by.) Continue reading
Fun fact: When I was 13, Skid Row was, like, my totally favorite band. So forgive me if I haven’t quite got words for the truly bizarre thing that is Skid Row’s Sebastian Bach singing a power ballad about the Ducks: Continue reading
Some people use “cute” as a pejorative. I don’t. So when I say that the new Ascetic Junkies video is the cutest goddamn thing EVER, what I mean is it’s the cutest goddamn thing I’ve seen in some unspecified period of time. Just look at it! Look at the way the little animated Kali Giaritta goes all frowny and slightly evil when the song rocks out! Look at the way the music appears in squiggled lines! Look at the banjo player’s fluffy white cloud of a beard! JUST LOOK AT IT! Continue reading