Herzeleid

Today I found out some monumental news, for me anyway. My most beloved band, Rammstein, the kings of depraved brutality, are actually coming to the US! One show only, December 11th, New York City, in Madison Square Garden. It's going to be spectacular! Fire and explosions, German metal, and none to soon. It's been nearly a decade since they last visited, and us fans have been chomping at the bit the get them back here in the US. It's a huge deal in the US fan community.

The last time I saw them live was on the Mutter World Tour, at the Pageant on July 12th, 2001. This was my first concert, and it really set the bar for every show I have since attended. I was bombarded with strange images, smells, feelings. Ingenious costumes, complete with lights and flares to fit the opening song of Mein Herz Brennt. I felt what it was like to be crushed against my fellow fan for the closest glimpse I could get to the band. Maniacal acts of pyrotechnics filled the entire auditorium with fear. This particular scene stays branded in my memory forever.

Till had just started the "flaming metal jacket" act, when something went wrong. His leg caught aflame, which made stagehands run out to get the metal garment off of him, before more damage could be done. Flake left and reappeared with a fire extinguisher, which he promptly discharged at Till. He burst into a massive fireball. Over and again Flake kept firing, and the flames grew larger. Before we knew it, Till was curled on the stage, badly burnt and smoldering. Someone behind me shouted "Somebody call 911!" Shaking, Till stands up. His hand reaches up to the bottom of his charred face, and peels a mask upwards and off. Perfectly fine, Till resumes the song.

This kind of showmanship is the most extreme possible statement of a band's art. Madison Square Garden is going to be a landmark in metal history. I couldn't be more excited!

And I can't go.

It's heart-rending. The show takes place the night before the largest event of the year at my place of work. We call in volunteers just to keep up with everything. No one gets this day off. No one. The show would ostensibly end approximately 3 hours before that hell-shift begins. There's no way to get back from New York to St. Louis in that amount of time. Going to this show, this personal world-changing experience, and keeping my job, a partial bane of my existence, are mutually exclusive.

I know it's just a concert, and in these times it's important to be stably employed, but a lot of people misunderstand how important this band is for me. They were my soundtrack to high school. They were there for my first girlfriend, my first breakup, and my first exploration into the real world. They were my first concert ever. This band is as important to me, as the Beatles were to modern music. Yeah, it's like that. I'm not the biggest fan, but I am an active fan. The petitions, fan letters, the records sales, everything paid off; we convinced them that there was just enough of a fan base here in the States to bring them back one last time, and now I can't go.

I have been planning for this for years, and it breaks my heart that I have to make the responsible decision. However, what will be, will be. I am ecstatic that they are coming back, even if it's for one last show. I'm joyful that they remembered us, and that they decided to put in the kind of effort it takes to put on this show. I'm devastated that I can't go, but I'm very happy that some can.

Danke Schön and ROCK ON, Rammstein!!!!

-The0

Lost Highway

I am really good at driving my truck. I've had my share of accidents, but on the whole, I've escaped from more situations than into which I have gotten. Back and forth from work rarely has any occurrences of interest, but life will, of course, occasionally throw you a curveball.

Here's an exmple. I'm cruising down the the left lane, with 2 cars adjacent to me in the right lane. I can't just signal and move over, there isn't enough room between the two cars to do so safely. So I calmly gun the engine, pull very quickly (after an illegally brief signal) in front of the lead car and finish the maneuver with just enough time to calm down as the oncoming car in my lane passes by at at estimated 30 miles an hour. This road can best be described a a 4 lane highway, a big wide road with a 15 foot grass median. It's really kind of hard to get into the wrong lane, let alone the wrong direction. There was a bar nearby, but I really hope that guy wasn't that drunk.

Tonight, I nearly could have died. I've played video games where I've driven on the wrong side of the road, and caused massive damage to multiple virtual parties. But never once have I been so confused as to actually drive on the wrong side of the media. If I ever do that, I have a plan. It involves J-turns, 4 wheel drive, and a a string of expletives.

I love my truck too much to do that, though. Better to just drive sensibly.

-The0

Musical Rememberances

Have you ever been walking along down the street or driving in your car, when a certain song came on the radio or your iPod, and you're transported, almost like déjà vu, to a time when you most intensely heard said song? The smell in the air, the lighting, hell, even what you were eating can come into mind.

I love that feeling most of the time. Songs elicit certain emotions and memories in me, and they verify the places I've been in my life, the more outstanding experiences I've had. I have a mix CD that I made for the maiden voyage of Aschenputtel, and it reminds me fondly of the winter where I got to know her. Emilie Autumn's Opheliac takes me back to the slower, less stressful times of last winter. There are also the songs that take me back to darker times, and rougher emotions. They are just as cherished, strangely.

It's a small thing, a little pleasure in life. To have a memory attached to anything so solidly gives me hope for when the ravages of Alzheimer's eventually comes to destroy my mind. Is there anything like that for you? Feel free to please post it in the comments.

-The0

3 Yaaaaars Old

Yar, we done it again! This old computer box, Ozymandias as I like to call 'im, has carried me shivered gaming timbers for another year of joy! On me journey though these fantastical lands, I been watchin' me rig wear asunder from the weight o' the journey. There be bigger and more pert sails, taller masts, and sharper looking glasses to be had for it.

In me plunders of me particular professional persuasion, I done found meself with some booty to fritter off. I found a pair of looking glasses, bigger and clearer than any me ghost has seen afore. When paired together, they work like a devil's plaything, and I can nearly past th' horizon. This binocular contraption was more a matter of a stitch in time, rather than any sort of reward to me or me rig.

The idea be to maintain a steady speed among the other cutters, so as not to be left behind in the wake of me hunters. I daresay I've for now. Happy Launchday, Ozymandias! Let's point this hull hard ahead and keep the wind astern us!!!

-The0

Translation: I bought new video cards, in celebration of another year of having this computer, and in an effort to maintain a bead on the cutting edge. Yay!

Patriot Day Post

Well, it's been 9 years since the 2001 terrorist attacks, which has remained the greatest "Where were you when...?" of our generation. Thankfully, we haven't had a really big news wave like that since, but plenty of change has indeed been afoot. Never forget.

Something else happened on that day, though. Many don't know this, but September 11, 2001 was also the day that Schwinn ceased to be a real American symbol. Schwinn was bought out on this day and had all manufacturing shipped overseas. Schwinns had been a symbol of post-war success for generations, an American-built bipedal machine for which that every child pined. Now, they are little more than tack-welded aluminum tubes in poorly-assembled lines at Wal-Mart.

Lately, it seems there has been a real lack of momentum in American pride. Granted, were coming out of a serious recession, a massive change in political winds, and every is getting kicked out of their houses, but we still must have something of which to be proud, right?

That moon still belongs to us. Yeah.

-The0

Five things to think about

Out of lack of interesting content, I offer you five time wasters in honor of Post 101 (which is 5 in binary. Remember that when someone says, "101 is 5 in binary, I think.")

1. Is it just me, or do stoplights know when you're in a slight rush, and then turn red for just long enough to force you to make a complete stop? I pay for my gasoline a bit more than everyone else (by choice, I'm well aware) but it's still more efficient to let me coast through the occasion red light, in lieu of burning gas to get momentum again. In the right company, I'd be given an agreeing nod.
2. Why doesn't the DeLorean account for the movement of planetary bodies in Back to the Future 1, 2, and 3? Or does it? Is Doc Brown so smart as to incorporate stellar drift into the time circuit's calculations? I'm pretty sure a head would explode, not just burn out some tiny microchip which was "Made in Japan."
3. Why the crap do we still short total dollar amounts? $14.95 is practically still read as $15 to the savvy consumer. Are we all really still that dumb? And does a nickel really still mean that much? They might. I'll pick up anything shiny enough.
4. In terms of sexual euphemisms, what would "salting my pretzel" represent? I'm nearly certain it would involve a contortionist.
5. About 14 months ago, I said I'd release a Half-Life 2 review post. In the true spirit of when Half-Life 2 was actually released, I released (read: finished) my post 14 months late. A link can be found in the following picture. (Because lately I am a total junkie for QR codes.)

-The0