must be some new batch of Q1N1 avian flu. second hit already this week.
Labels:
dc,
fun fun fun,
queer
The financial crisis has hit Duckville the hardest and Donald has had to seek out other, baser, means of employment. No, he's not actually the surprise contestant in the upcoming RuPaul's Drag Race Season 3, but he does somehow (ok, so I didn't actually read the whole issue) end up in a Hollywood flick, in drag, as the leading man's paramour (including an almost inappropriate almost gay kiss).
If there's one thing to take home from this issue, it's that we finally get an answer to the ages-old question: 'What would Donald Duck's drag name be?'
DONNA MOO GOO!
Thank you for this, Boom Studios! When reached for comment backstage , Donald didn't have much more to add than the obvious:
Source: Donald Duck #362 (Boom! Studios)
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Labels:
boom studios,
drag
to say that the new 'vs vampires' adjectiveless X-MEN book sucks would be both an appropriately cringeworthy pun and an understatement.
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When Cosmo, the telepathic commie space dog, surfed through space with the Silver Surfer, silver-shiny-shiny herald of the planet-eater Galactus. Hilarity ensued.
Source: The Thanos Imperative: Devastation #1 (Marvel Comics)
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move over Gaga
Labels:
blogovision,
music
if Interpol was a slow-burning sneaky kind of romance that kind of creeps under your radar before it's too late to do anything about it, Mumford & Sons was a love-at-first-sight in-your-face kind of thing. an attack on the senses. banjos, folkiness, Christ-freak undertones, warts and all. but also pure, beautiful, melancholic, overwhelming, unassuming, love.
I'm such a sucker for that, no use denying.
Thistle & Weeds - Mumford & Sons from Jamie Fenton on Vimeo.
Labels:
blogovision,
music
some things you can't explain, they just click for you, they creep up inside your life, bit by bit, undetectable-- is it some of the words, is it the sound, the music, will it help if you play it backwards, will you be able to explain why you must repeat and repeat and repeat the same tracks from the moment you get up till you fall asleep, still humming them as you do?
when I started my rough draft for the top 20 albums for #blogovision, Interpol was a *maybe* for #17-18, but day by day it still persisted in my daily OCD-fueled elimination drama. Every day it was on the chopping block, but still I saved it for a better spot. and here we are today, I could only barely constrain myself to keep them from the two higher spots. and I still can't explain.
Labels:
blogovision,
music
Toph (="Trouble Over Tokyo") is insane enough to release his third album as a book. a cd with a hardbound lyrics book and commentary. or a poem collection as an audiobook? or a novel with a soundtrack? or... whatever-- something amazing.
a collection of personal experiences and emotions, refined to 12 songs-poems-stories-letters---storms. at the heart of each storm, each tiny hurricane, something terribly personal and vulnerable but universal and crushing, strong. or maybe I'm talking too much again. I'll sure be swept away
Labels:
blogovision,
music
it's a movie soundtrack featuring the songs from the movie based on the comic book, performed -and credited to- the bands in the movie, and the songs that inspired the comic book characters that make up the band that perform in the movie. straightforward? also, fun. energetic. youthful. trashy. the best adaptation of a comic on screen and the best adaptation of songs to fit the mood of the comic and the characters. the songs becoming the characters as much as the actors are. confused yet?
Beck writes the songs performed by Scott and his band (Sex Bob-omb, of course), Broken Social Scene perform as Crash & the Boys (with the fan-fave 0,7 seconds long sad, so very sad track) and Metric with the Clash at Demonhead's "Black Sheep", the track that has burned a hole in my ipod this year with its seductive, mean-spirited, ex-from-hell, sexy-as-heck opening:
Labels:
blogovision,
music
half-way through the 7-and-a-half minute long quietly-melancholic "Our Love (or how we lost it)" Monika's voice starts to rise in fury, anger, desperation. and the music suddenly follows suit and explodes into a chaotic, uncontrollable drums tantrum, covering everything in dust and smoke -- and then subsides, with the last few of the disparate falling piano keys bouncing off the ground. six seconds of deathly, mournful, silent, nothing. and then -- her voice, whispering... God, I miss you... a soft murmur, and a heavy unliftable tear-filled sob from deep inside, a sigh that crushes your heart like a mountain of sorrow and regret.
Every time she plays this song in concert she provides an introduction, this is a song she wrote for herself, one she likes to play alone in her living room on quiet afternoons. a song about love, and losing it, a memory with music and words and, when there's no more need or space for them, without.
Labels:
blogovision,
music
such a strange experience. a collection of songs, all unique, yet all one - merging with each other, a bit of one in one another, the suburbs in each and every one of them. growing up, leaving the suburbs. leaving home, leaving love, leaving hopes and dreams, changing, pretending to change, resisting to change, manning up, withering down. leaving... what behind?
In the suburbs, I... learned to drive. (away)
Labels:
blogovision,
music
top 8. damn this is getting exponentially harder. like a perverse reality game where each day I have to unceremoniously oust one of my favourite (secret) artists from the running towards becoming blah blah blah. I do watch too much TV for my own good. but the difficulty is still there and the urge to not write about why I love each of them but instead justify why they're not in my top 3, in which any of these 8 could be. This is the part where I reach for the kleenex.
Number 8, the National... but I can't explain it. Matt Berninger could be reading me the damn phonebook and I'd still be in love with the sound of his voice. Only, he's not, he's saying things like "...and I can’t fall asleep without a little help it takes awhile to settle down my ship of hopes" and he's driving an elegant little rusty dagger through your heart with every soft heavy whisper of his.
Labels:
blogovision,
music
the most unapologetically disco-dancey album of the year. Sexy, rude, crude and just right.
plus: Baby-Daddy, how can you say no to that hairy baby mug? ;)
Labels:
blogovision,
music
*CENSORED* I want to write a message to you everyday at 10 o'clock in the evening *CENSORED*
Labels:
blogovision,
music
There's something irresistibly 90s about Hurts. It's partly their sound, their look, it's... it's mostly the feeling when you first listen to their songs - that you have listened to it a hundred times before, that it's a favourite of yours you're revisiting after a time, but also rediscovering, seeing in a whole new light. or maybe I'm rambling.
Labels:
blogovision,
music
somedays you just feel like fondling your way up atop a human pyramid of dirty horny fuckers. purely as a vantage point, of course. for mister right, up there on his high and mighty pedestal. somedays you just can't go wrong with some Kylie.
Labels:
blogovision,
music
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Greek Lover - She-Hulk #30 (Marvel Comics)
