LL&CB: Lullaby.

That summer, in the late evenings, after an hour of anxious tossing, chasing sleep across the pages of a John Irving novel, she’d turn her pillow over, dial his number, and set the phone against her ear.

CHEKIT: PostSecret

Dispatches bows down to the greatness that is PostSecret - and we're pressing our foreheads to the ground kneeling next to the NYT:

Online confessors are like flashers. They exhibit themselves anonymously and publicly, with little consideration for you, the audience. Browse some of the confessionals on the Web: grouphug.us (a simple log), notproud.com (organized by deadly sin) or dailyconfession.com (where you can barely find the confessions for all the promotional stuff). You can see for yourself.

One online confessional, though, breaks the mold. At PostSecret, found at postsecret.blogspot.com, the confessions are consistently engaging, original and well told. How come? The Web site gives people simple instructions. Mail your secret anonymously on one side of a 4-by-6-inch postcard that you make yourself. That one constraint is a great sieve. It strains out lazy, impulsive confessors.

For PostSecret, you write, type or paste your secret on a postcard, and then, if you want, decorate the card with drawings or photographs. Next the stamp and then the mailbox. Yes, it's work to confess. And it should be, if only for the sake of the person who might be listening...

...One odd thing about PostSecret is that there's a real disconnection between what the confessions are and what the readers think they are. One reader from Texas wrote, "Thank you so much for building a window into so many souls, even if it only shines light on the darkest part." A reader in Australia wrote: "Each is a silent prayer of hope, love, fear, joy, pain, sorrow, guilt, happiness, hatred, confidence, strength, weakness and a million other things that we all share as human beings... there is no fakeness here."

No fakeness? Oh, but there is. And it is the fakeness, the artifice and the performance that make this confessional worth peeking at. The secret sharers here aren't mindless flashers but practiced strippers. They don't want to get rid of their secrets. They love them. They arrange them. They tend them. They turn them into fetishes. And that's the secret of PostSecret. It isn't really a true confessional after all. It is a piece of collaborative art.

Go. NOW.

CHEKIT: Traffic Maps

I know traffic is getting bad everywhere, but driving around Chicago feels less like a worsening congestion problem, and more like an exercise in Einsteinian relativistic space-time dilation. Luckily for us, we've got this. And for those that don't live 'round here, you've got this.

DISPATCH: Backward, Dumb, Fat, Poor AND Conservative.

All I did was ask Mary Elizabeth:

What's Little Rock like?

And in reply, I got this:

Little Rock sucks. This is one of the most backward, dumbest, fattest, poorest, conservative cities in the southern United States. Of course you can find dumber, fatter, poorer, more conservative cities around these parts, but they have a population of 8,000 and haven't won a state high school football championship in 13 years (or they've won every state high school football championship for the last 13 years).

Little Rock Central has won the state 4A football championship for the last 2 years, thank you very much. I think we'll even do OK without Clark Irwin, our star quarterback (who is having to WALK ON to the Razorback team in the fall, just because he is small. I think when your parents have donated that much to the athletic department AND you are the number one quarterback in the state (best stats, won an out and out contest, and the best raised) you should AT LEAST not be forced to walk on come August). LRCHS also has the most national merit scholars - not only per capita but in sheer numbers.

I digress.

Contrary to popular belief, we are civilized - we don't walk around in ripped overalls and bare feet. Most of us have teeth, even if some of the state STILL doesn't put fluoride in the water. Damn this state is dumb. So dumb it's mean to make fun of us. Our legislature is a bunch of hillbillies who like to hear themselves talk. They also like to legislate against evil. Evil being alcohol (AR has some of the highest alcohol taxes in the country), gay rights (NO SIR THEY CANNOT ADOPT OR TAKE IN FOSTER CHILDREN. NOW WAY! SAME SEX MARRIAGE IS OFFENSIVE. THE TERM IS OFFENSIVE! WHY DON'T WE JUST BURN THE KING JAMES BIBLE?! WHY IS THE KING JAMES BIBLE NOT OUR STATE CONSTITUTION?), baby killing (not only do we have 48 hour parental notification for underage sluts, now we have parental consent. By the way, I had an abortion on the way to work this morning. I thought about going to get a McGriddle, but decided to get an abortion instead. Luckily I live in a town with ONE of the TWO abortion clinics in the state.), hunting rights (as in extended hunting, weakening animal abuse laws, and being able to shoot stray animals if they wander onto your property), and taxes (you wouldn't believe the corporate tax breaks we give. It's criminal and we STILL can't get a businesses to come here).

What is Little Rock like? It's kind of interesting but I am sick of it. It's fun if you are married (a sport in a state with the second highest divorce rate in the country). If you are single and not into church, it's hell. I'm in hell, Theo. I'm a spinster in hell. It's hard enough to leave my house knowing I'm 26 and single, but I don't even have a boyfriend. It's hard to get the courage to leave the house without a boyfriend, but how are you supposed to get a boyfriend if you don't leave the house?

Our indie rock culture is pretty strong. It's easy to be a big fish in this pond, though. There are even levels of indie rock-ness with their own bars and hangouts. It can get exhausting. We have a few cool 'zines and one all girl punk rock band.

There is also other hangouts depending on where you work and or what you do. One thing that brings us all together is the deck at Cajun's, Cajun's Wharf that is. Cajun's is down by the river, as stone's throw from downtown, and during the summer, the deck is hopping. The deck is hopping on Thursdays (Thursday is the new Friday, you know). Great drink specials, a good band, and lots of people. The trick is to get there early and get a good table. To me a good table is usually one or two tables away from the major walkways and not near the river. Sit at the edge of the deck and you will get swarmed with mosquitoes. It's not pretty. Not pretty to be swatting and drinking, and not pretty the next day when you are just eaten up with bites. I like the deck at Cajuns because it takes all kinds. You'll find the forty somethings, the thirty somethings, and the twentysomethings. Most people are employed and everyone wants to get laid. Lots of networking goes on and lots of flirting. If you go early, there are lots of older men there, who can get off work early (because they are partner or own the joint), and they just love to buy a young thing a drink, especially one that is conservatively dressed and looks shy. I can look shy and even my sluttiest of outfits is no match for some of the getups that are seen on the deck (I mean, what do these girls wear on Saturday night if this is only Thursday?).

Best to get out of Cajun's around 8-ish on a Thursday night. They start charging a cover at 8p and the place fills up with people intent on going OUT, not casually drinking after work. If it's been a good night, you are sober enough to drive somewhere with friends and have dinner. If it's been a great night, you are sober enough to meet the hottie you met on the deck for dinner.

I will admit that I have never been sober enough to meet the hottie I met on the deck for dinner. I had a few invitations, but I've never had the courage to do it. This summer I will. This summer I do. Partly because I need new friends, partly because I am that cute, and partly (mostly?) because a sugar daddy is so much better than a boyfriend.

Give me more specifics on what you want. This place is a crazy fucking pit is what it is.

CHEKIT: Expert advice for your fantasy baseball franchise.

Rick Paulas has been periodically contributing a less-than-helpful but more-than-hilarious rotisserie-league advice feature to that old warhorse McSweeney's.
This piece, from late April, is po-mo for the bratwurst crowd - which is to say, funny, funny, funny.

FOR SALE: Pope Car.

Not the Popemobile, mind you - no, this is the car that the late Karol Józef Wojtyla drove around Krakow as Bishop, before the the College of Cardinals made with the big white smoke back in '78. Jim Rich bought the thing back in 1996 for $102k, and now, after some financial woes, he's hoping to cash in on his holiness' recent passing, made all the more poignant in the memories of the faithful by the ascension of the less-than-glamourous Benedict XVI. ("I knew Pope John Paul II. Pope John Paul II was a friend of mine. Your Eminence, you're no Pope John Paul II.") Plans for an auction, however, are stalled as Jerome Rich turns his countenance even further away from the Lord as he bars his son from entering the very restaurant he's trying to save with the proceeds from the sale of one very special 1975 Ford Escort GL. [via the cooler-than-bein-cool, ICE COLD BB]

CHEKIT: Nerds, cool and cute and ridiculous, in Indianapolis.

My friend Potato made her way to Celebration III with her husband and sent me these photos awhile back - in honor of George Lucas' less-than-completely craptacular effort, I'm posting them, along with some comments from Potato herself. (Warning - she's a hot 'n spicy potato, that Potato.) Enjoy!

I made the long, arduous trek with my hub Jeff in his little Honda Civic that we affectionately call the "Yodacar" to good ol' down-home Indianapolis, IN to get geeked out and dorked up for Star Wars Celebration III ­ the only soiree this side of the galaxy where you'll find a merry band of hardcore fans masquerading as Storm Troopers, Wookiees and Princess Leia's in various stages of undress (some of which were gag-worthy). Then there were just some bad costume ideas. We encountered a Jarth Maul (a freakish Jar-Jar Binks and Darth Maul combination), a Yoda in a bathrobe and fuzzy slippers and an Afro-puffed Mace Windu. But the biggest arse of all had to have been a certain Han Solo impersonator who was never spotted without hand mirrors, touting his email address as HungSoLow@(I'mfullofmyself.com) to anyone remotely female who would listen.

At any rate, though I was a newbie to the madness that is Star Wars, Jeff, me and eight friends owned the Celebration, tag-teaming for choice spots in the snaky mile-long lines, forming human chains to keep the blustery gale force winds from blowing us into another system while waiting outside for 12 hours in line to see George Lucas, and best of all ... joining forces to
have a grand time.

You better believe we were at the midnight showing of "Sith Happens" on Wednesday night too! (Yes, I've gotten sucked in ... and I like it!)


Ah yes. In this photo, my friend Korry and I are in our first hour of waiting in line to talk to Hayden Christensen live on the phone (via satellite from Rome). Apparently, this is a renown Elvis impersonator who moonlights as a Storm Trooper and appears at all Star Wars functions, complete with his "Elvis Trooper" collectible trading cards. Korry bumped his bum by accident. His response? Uh, go ahead darlin'. It's just a hunka-hunka burnin' love. Frankly, I don't the words "bum" and the word "burning" should be used in conjunction, but that's just me.


Well aren't we all fresh and bright-eyed in this picture. It's the first day of the show and we're waiting in line for the magic hour when we'll surge forth and basically storm into the convention center for a massive Star Wars takeover. Han Solo (not the hand-mirror one) and Chewy sauntered by (well, the Wookiee moseyed) and we hopped the barriers for a fab photo opp. It was a little scary, other line-dwellers starting photographing us full force like the British papparazzi and it was a good 15 minutes before I could see without flashbulb spots again.


Luke, who's your daddy? Here's the biggest mac-daddy of all, Darth Vader...and a well-costumed one at that. We had seen a pitiful 3-ft. Vader with 5-ft. lifts in his boots earlier, so this towering gent really fit the bill. The Storm Trooper behind him? Let's just say he fills out that suit with no artificial fillers ...uh huh uh huh.


The same Storm Trooper. He came to our spot in line and told us "hot girls" we'd have to go to the front of the line with him. Never one to turn down a dare, I saucily knocked on his suit's crotch-plate to check out the "situation". His response? Well you didn't hear an echo did you? Nice! (To explain the crotch-knocking, which I only reserve for special occasions: My hub explained to me that at the last convention, Hayden Christensen had disguised himself as as Storm Trooper to freely roam the show uninhibited by fans and the like. I figured I'd go around squeezing...perhaps gently cupping crotches to see if I could find him out in case he decided to try the same trick twice. Not that that would answer my "is it Hayden?" question, but whatever. It makes perfect sense to me. I have a bit of fun and everyone else gets their jollies watching me have at it. Ok, I never said I made any sense. Only dollars.)


This kooky chap was seen all over the show, sometimes in full Cap'n Jack regalia, other times appearing in this split Captain Jack/Storm Trooper ensemble. He had the voice down pat and was incredibly friendly, making him a show favorite. His arm candy was choice, and NOT wearing a scary Leia gold bikini thing (we had seen entirely TOO many that day), so we had to give him kudos for that.


Chewy and Han Solo at their best ... roaming the streets the first morning of the show, giving us line-lubbers a thrill. Oh no! Chewy sees a fire hydrant ...someone grab a poncho!


We're in our third hour of waiting for Hayden Christensen's interview and we're plumb out of Cheez-its. Jeff decided to wear his Luke Skywalker costume that day (he looks fabulous in it) really only because it was the warmest thing he brought and it was colder than a witch's nip outside.


Shhh .... we're out for the count. Nine hours after waiting for George Lucas outside in the pouring rain, 100 mph winds and freezing temperatures we're completely tuckered out. The "officials" finally let us into the convention center's skywalk and we soggily trudged our way inside. I'm napping on my friend Rob's legs. Only 3.5 hours to go!

CHEKIT: Sugarbush Squirrel

It's not animal cruelty, exactly. But all of God's creatures deserve some dignity - even the big bushy-tailed ones. Good Lord.

CHEKIT: A guide to Episode III for non-geeks.

Accents
In the Star Wars universe, accents = evil unless you are Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Obi-Wan Kenobi
Oh, come on. You know who Obi-Wan Kenobi is. What, are you kidding me?

The Force
Jedi use this magical energy for various superpowers—telepathy, telekinesis, precognition, and so on. Somewhere between episodes III and IV, using the Force turns into something to be embarrassed about in the increasingly technological Empire. Only losers say "may the Force be with you," and one of Darth Vader's officers describes his faith as a "sad devotion to an ancient religion." Vader chokes him.

And other useful information for the uninitiated. As if you needed it.

LL&CB: Coeur d'Alene.

Our last true conversation ended badly, as we came back from the winery, with her driving, of course, and crying into the steering wheel. “I think I love you,” she said, sobbing. And after a pause came from me something worse than a lie: “I love you, too.”

CHEKIT: Television Without Pity.

Like your television criticism a little snarky? Like your discussions about "The Amazing Race" to lean a little towards the nitpicky side of things? Then follow my friend Weeble's advice and get down with the kids at TWoP, or, as she puts it, "Free crack for TV addicts":

I love that the message boards are put together intelligently so that even the fangirls (and boys) have to write in full sentences and explain why they love a show or character without resorting to "!!!!!" or saucy emoticons. I love that it's a place I can go to talk about shows in which I am very invested but which none of my friends watch. I love that the recaps give me so much detail that even when I have no access to a show (and I currently have no way to watch Deadwood, one of the best shows in television), I can read the TwoP summary and feel like I'm watching the show in my head. And I love that reading and adding to the discussions on the site make me feel like my television watching is active and not passive for my brain (e.g. trying to figure out who killed Lilly Kane on Veronica Mars, or what the hell is going on with the hatch on Lost, or why (why!) does the O.C. suck so much this year!?) * that way I don't have to feel guilty about the many, many years of my life I have given over to the small square object in my living room...

I'm a big fan of the work they've done with this show and this show. And soon, you will be, too.

CHEKIT: Best deodorant commercial ever

Never heard of this stuff - but I'd buy it in a heartbeat, if only to make sure they keep making more spots like this one.

MUZIK: Time to buy a new hard drive.

The Tofu Hut has got the goods on every decent MP3 blog you could want. It's Christmas in May, biz-natches. It's bandwidth-a-licious.

MUZIK: Peaches - "Kick It"

Not getting enough lewd and crazy in your diet? Then check out this charming tidbit from the gal that brought you "Fuck the Pain Away" (the track that was playing during the stripper scene in Lost in Translation.) Not safe for work. But Peaches is worth the time and trouble. Iggy Pop guest stars, for crying out loud.

CHEKIT: How Lightsabers Work

From the Jen in J&J, a heads-up on a great feature from usually incredibly useful howstuffworks.com:

Have you ever wondered how these remarkable weapons work? Where does the energy come from, and how are they able to contain that energy in a rod-like column of glowing power?

In this edition of HowStuffWorks, you will have a chance to look inside a lightsaber and discover the source of its incredible characteristics. Let's get started!

It's Jedi-licious.

CHEKIT: Gotham Girls Roller Derby in the NYT

I'm happy and sad for all of them. Happy because now the world knows they're badasses. Sad because, well, now the world knows they're badasses.

MUZIK: Sufjan Stevens "Illinois"

I took a "Chicago Studies" class the summer before my Freshman year of high school that was chock fulla my fellow nerds and useless tidbits about the city and the state. We also had to read Upton Sinclair's "The Jungle" - which just goes to show how deep my omnivore tendencies run, seeing as I'm still eating meat.

Anyway - reading Stereogum's take on Sufjan Steven's new record, I just about-a pooped myself - I mean, look at this track list -

01 "Concerning The UFO Sighting Near Highland, IL"
02 "The Black Hawk War, Or, How To Demolish An Entire Civilization And Still Feel Good About Yourself In The Morning, Or, We Apologize For The Inconvenience But You're Going To Have To Leave Now, Or, 'I Have Fought The Big Knives And Will Continue To Fight Them Until They Are Off Our Lands!'"
03 "Come On! Feel The Illinoise!"
Part I: The World's Columbian Exposition
Part II: Carl Sandburg Visits Me In A Dream
04 "John Wayne Gacy, Jr."
05 "Jacksonville"
06 "A Short Reprise For Mary Todd, Who Went Insane, But For Very Good Reasons"
07 "Decatur, Or, Round Of Applause For Your Step Mother!"
08 "One Last 'Woo-hoo!' For The Pullman"
09 "Chicago"
10 "Casimir Pulaski Day"
11 "To The Workers Of The Rockford River Valley Region, I Have An Idea Concerning Your Predicament, And It Involves Shoe String, A Lavender Garland, And Twelve Strong Women"
12 "The Man Of Metropolis Steals Our Hearts"
13 "Prairie Fire That Wanders About"
14 "A Conjunction Of Drones Simulating The Way In Which Sufjan Stevens Has An Existential Crisis In The Great Godfrey Maze"
15 "The Predatory Wasp Of The Palisades Is Out To Get Us!"
16 "They Are Night Zombies!! They Are Neighbors!! They Have Come Back From The Dead!! Ahhhhh!"
17 "Let's Hear That String Part Again, Because I Don't Think They Heard It All The Way Out In Bushnell"
18 "In This Temple, As In The Hearts Of Man, For Whom He Saved The Earth"
19 "The Seer's Tower"
20 "The Tallest Man, The Broadest Shoulders"
Part I: The Great Frontier
Part II: Come To Me Only With Playthings Now
21 "Riffs And Variations On A Single Note For Jelly Roll, Earl Hines, Louis Armstrong, Baby Dodds, And The King Of Swing, To Name A Few"
22 "Out Of Egypt, Into The Great Laugh of Mankind, And I Shake The Dirt From My Sandals As I Run"

Come On! Feel The Illinoise! he asks. After watching the videotape of me and my friend Andy reproducing the St. Valentine's Day Massacre with one guy and seven hats, you'd see I already am, Sufjan. And I will, even more so, as soon as the album drops. By the way - your xylophone player is h-o-t-t. Hot like a pretzel.

CHEKIT: The NES Belt Buckle

I'm not sure how cool or how dorky you have to be to pull off wearing one of these - all I know is, for cooler or dorkier, I want one. [via Kotaku]

We mourn the loss of a dear friend.

I can only hope that when it comes time for my iPod to go, we will be together - until the very end.

CHEKIT: Save Toby!

Yet again, Jenny comes through - although I'm a bit conflicted about how I feel about extortion. Even if a cute bunny is involved. (It's a joke, by the way. Don't send me angry emails.)

RADIO: "How do you type with boxing gloves on your hands?"

J-Money turned me onto the Wu-Tang-quality-funny homestarrunner.com a long-ways back. NPR is only a few years late to the party.

POLITIK: The Clinton Library

My friend Mary Elizabeth from Arkansas was just in town to visit - we had a blast with the eating and the drinking and the hanging out. It was good to see her - not just because she's cool as hell and cute as the devil - but because I got to ask her about Bill Clinton, something I've been wanting to discuss with some of the natives for awhile. From our emails:

Hey - how different is the relationship with Clinton for folks from Arkansas than with the rest of the country? He seems like Kennedy - for better and for worse - for a lot of our generation's lefties, but maybe, up close, in Little Rock, he's something different. You grew up with Bill - what do you think?

Bill is something different here. For most of his presidency, you couldn't get anyone to admit that they voted for him. It was kind of weird. The scandal hit us pretty hard. We don't like Yankee reporters swarming our cities, getting us drunk and writing things down. Nowadays you get a lot of begrudging, "The library seems to do a lot for the city..."

Most people hate the library. They think it looks like a glass trailer (mobile home). WE aren't big consumers of architecture around here. Also, he had everyone from New York working on the damn thing -- NY architects and NY museum people. Most people could understand the exhibit people, there isn't a company down here that puts together museum displays. I think the architects pissed some people off.

The construction company was local and part of the good ole boy network. I think the owner was an Arkansas Traveler. He paid more in campaign contributions than he made off of the building.

Speaking of the actual building, there are some logical problems with it. Putting a glass box facing east-west wasn't the best idea for a large building in AR. It could turn out to be the world's largest convection oven. Second, it's built on unconsolidated river sediment. There are two support pylons on the north end -- they sunk 8 feet during construction. I have a feeling they will be sinking some more. It would also be a huge problem if the New Madrid (that's new maDRID) fault slips near AR. The closer to LR it goes, the worse it will be for those support pylons.

Hmmmm. A grand scheme engineered and supported by east coast media and liberal elite might find itself hobbled due to insufficiently researched problems back in Arkansas. Well, that's certainly never happened before.

LL&CB: Things I should have said.

These pants do feel a little tight in the crotch, actually.

I don't think I can hold that end of the piano all by myself.

Clearly, you're a jackass. A racist jackass that likes to have sex with his sister.

Life sometimes feels like one big "d'oh."

CHEKIT: Jesus on the Juice.

Fault me for being a literalist when it comes to the gospels, but He doesn't look like He's suffering at all. He looks like getting nailed to the cross was a nice break between personal training sessions. I didn't realize that they were serving creatine and andro at the Last Supper.

CHEKIT: Poet to live in nest

From Xinhua news service, via chinaview.com:

Yefu took only a few necessary things with him, including a cup, a mobile phone, and bedding. Except for perhaps meeting some unsolvable problems, the poet will not leave the 4-square-meter space for the whole month.

And by “unsolvable problems,” they mean “finding a woman who will date a poet living in a nest.”

MUZIK: LB on the J-O-B.

Sara Z put Lyrics Born’s “I Changed My Mind” on one of her brilliant mixes, and I just about fried my iPod kicking that jam, I tell you what. Now he’s on tour, pushin’ a star-tricked remix of his debut out the door – and even a square like me, far, far from the light - can recognize the funky-fine. Watch the new video. And gohgitit!

CHEKIT: “You can’t marry your cousin! You get babies with nine heads!”

...but, if C.U.D.D.L.E. International gets their way, those hydra-headed offspring would, at least, be accepted in polite society. (Though I get the feeling that kissin' cousins would have things other than makin’ out and social acceptance on their minds. Like harelips and hemophilia.) [via lindsayism]

LL&CB: Letters from Little Rock, Postcards from New Albany

Looking out the window, with Colorado gliding past and underneath her, she followed the progress of a plane, a glint in the distance, jet wake bright beneath the stars, descending towards Denver, plunging into the cumulus, like the faithful into a dream.

I'm just getting started. We'll see how it goes.

RADIO: The Next Big Thing

If I could build a radio host out of other radio hosts, I’d use the left half of Terry’s brain, the right half of Ira’s and Dean Olsher’s heart.

The Next Big Thing doesn’t take itself as seriously as TAL – yet it manages to be almost as moving and funny, just the same.

HOUSEKEEPING: A new look, and a new blog.

I got tired of the blue. I may change it again - let's see how this works for awhile. Your comments are welcome. I'm currently trying to track down a tricked-out Ninja-Hello-Kitty blogger template. I'm sure there's gotta be one out there.

Anyway - in a few days, check out Lava Lamps & Cheap Beer. I'm hoping to scratch an itch that links about roller derby can't quite reach. See you here, and there, soon.

CHOW: Which salt is best?

When I was younger, and just getting beginning to embrace my foodie ways, I thought NaCl was NaCl was NaCl – all this silliness over sea vs. kosher vs. table is ridiculous, right? Wrong.

BOOK: Comic book books.

Graphic novels? COMIC BOOKS, muthafuker. (Don’t get me wrong. I like them, too.) My man Zeus McAwesome is big on the Chris Ware, but he’s also a connoisseur of the old school stuff. I know he’d dig these tomes. I certainly plan to.

CHEKIT: Ugh.

Make mine chocolate-flavored wrongness, please! [via Screenhead]

CHEKIT: Bugs are evil. And clever.

Yes, yes. Your terrier is adorable. And so-well behaved. But that little furball’s an IDIOT compared to these ants, yo. Just ask the poor unfortunate bastards that think they’re just chilling out on a branch and find themselves eaten alive. [via BB]

MUZIK: Lollapalooza

Remind me to get out of town July 23rd and 24th – not because I don’t wanna see this remarkably badass lineup – it’s just that hundreds of thousands of other folks will as well. And it’s not like downtown Chicago during festival season is super-happy-funtime even under the best of circumstances. (The mouth of hell isn’t in Amityville – it’ll be the gaping maw of every Grant Park port-o-potty that weekend.)

Still. Arcade Fire? Death Cab for Cutie? Dinosaur Jr.? G. Love? Billy Idol? WEEZER? Hmmmmm.

HOUSEKEEPING: Catch you kids soon.

I’m gonna be out of the blogosphere for a few days – I’ve been asked up to Toronto to speak at a three-day seminar on Advanced Self-Deprecation (they’re holding me up as a living, breathing “before” picture, I expect) and won’t be online except to check e-mail and download more sheep porn. I’m pre-posting this weekend’s content for all five of you that just can’t get enough Dispatches. See you Monday.

By the way - in case any of you were wondering about the final sign of the apocalypse - I got Osto's wedding invitation in the mail today (Just kidding, Osto! Love you, baby! For all sorts of reasons! Six-hundred and sixty-six of them, in fact!)

CHEKIT: The mo lei tau of Stephen Chow.


You can read the Reader’s mini-dissertation/review or look over Ebert’s slightly less academic take. Then you can get your ass out of that chair, grab your wallet and take in one of the funniest, chop-sockiest films I’ve seen in a long time. Hilarious and smart, the ass-kicking in Kung Fu Hustle makes The Matrix look like Pride and Prejudice. Go. Now.

Landlady. Rocks. So. Hard.