SETI

"Who are we? We find that we live on an insignificant planet of a humdrum star lost in a galaxy tucked away in some forgotten corner of a universe in which there are far more galaxies than people." - Carl Sagan.

Earlier this year, SETI shut down 42 radio telescopes (the Allen Telescope Array). Funding for the search for extraterrestrial intelligence had dried up. That's not too surprising - with the recession, the housing crisis, unemployment... people are too busy worrying about how to pay the bills to spare a thought about little green men. And after all, there are no scientists in Congress. Our world leaders are trained laywers, accountants, and businemessmen - but not scientists*. Our society prioritizes oil and advertising and entertainment, but the exploration of the seeming cold, vast, emptiness of space has been left by the wayside.

Well, Jodie Foster has saved the day! She and other good samaritans raised enough money to bring the ATA back out of hibernation. In a note accompanying her donation to SETI, Foster explained "Just like Ellie Arroway, the ATA is 'good to go' and we need to return it to the task of searching newly discovered planetary worlds for signs of extraterrestrial intelligence [...] The Allen Telescope Array could turn science fiction into science fact, but only if it is actively searching the skies."

* I wish I had come up with that insightful observation but it was actually Neil deGrasse Tyson recently on Real Time with Bill Maher.

HESHER

Hesher tells the story of a tragic boy, T.J., left numb and empty by his mother’s death, his depressed dad, who hasn’t been able to get out of bed in the mornings or hold down a job or shave since his wife died, his lonely grandmother, and the metalhead (Hesher) who haunts this family. 

Hesher is a monument to nothing. Well, that’s not entirely true. It’s a monument to metal, and an ode to destruction.  The soundtrack features songs by Metallica and Motorhead, including one scene in which Hesher lights a diving board on fire, proceeds to run through the flames and cannonball into a swimming pool full of broken furniture, and then climbs out of the pool nonchalantly humming the lyrics to “Jump in the Fire”.

But there is no obvious point to the movie, no clear meaning. Hesher just appears, and then disappears. Inbetween, he takes T.J. for a ride. Hesher is T.J.'s mentor, but also his demon. He is foulmouthed, unpredictable, and cruel, but also calm and rational in the midst of T.J.'s chaotic grief. He drives T.J. into trouble and despair, but he is also his saviour.

Metallica have said that Hesher reminds them of Cliff Burton, which is profoundly appropriate, because Hesher is like a ghost, more of a mythological figure than a man. That's what makes Hesher stand out. Even though it’s really just a simple story about a troubled child, there's something otherworldly about it.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt unapologetically brings Hesher to life, completely believable as he headbangs fiercely and drums out Motorhead tracks on his steering wheel. Devin Brochu's lack of acting experience is noticeable at times, but it’s a challenging role, and he alternates between moments of rage and blank apathy convincingly enough. Rainn Wilson has obviously mastered the role of tragic loser. Piper Laurie adds a great deal of depth to a character who, on the surface, appears to be just a sweet old grandma who wants to go for a walk.

But then, the entire movie is more than what it appears to be. It has all the raw, violent energy of thrashing albums like Kill 'Em All, but it is also beautiful and poetic, like Hesher's metaphors that aren't really metaphors.

Hesher will obviously appeal to any metalhead worth their salt, but even if you have no interest whatsoever in the music or the scene, its still a worthwhile watch, as an exploration of grief and the demons that haunt us all.

FORBIDDEN

Just saw Forbidden a few days ago. The venue had awesome atmosphere, it was dingy and huge and very metal, but sadly not enough headbangers showed up - there were only a handful of people to begin with, they mostly only showed up to see the opening bands (White Wizzard, Revocation and Havok), and they couldn't even muster a proper mosh for Forbidden.
Forbidden put on an awesome show anyway, desolation notwithstanding. They really are bastions of the Bay Area thrash scene and they have not sold out one bit. Omega Wave sounded EVIL! When Russ bellows out "Omeegaaa", its ominous, eerie, and fucking powerful! They also played Through Eyes of Glass, Forbidden Evil, and I think...Adapt or Die. Among others. The night is hazy because by the time Forbidden came on I had already banged my head senseless (although not as much as someone in the audience who had blood streaming from their eye).

Revocation seem like a force to be reckoned with too - they're brutal shredders, but I have to agree with a review from Decibel magazine that said when Davidson is soloing, "The rest of the band often fails to compensate." In a way, it seems like the rest of the band holds David Davidson back - he has skills on the level of that guy from Animals as Leaders, but there just aren't enough solos, bridges and breakdowns for it to come through. I hope they go in a more technical jazz-Cynic kind of direction, because its the one thing that'll make them stand out and set them apart from all the other commercial death metal fodder out there.

And on the science front, I just finished my circadian rhythms course!!! :) I am now an expert in chronobiology, so if you need advice on jet lag, insomnia or shiftwork... I'm here to help!

My next post might just be about the suprachiasmatic nucleus...

Mustaine

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Dave getting his Master of the Universe and Creator of All Metal award.

Spoilers lie ahead!

When I heard Mega-angry Megadave's autobiography had been released, I immediately rushed off to the bookstore. For half a year or so I had been anticipating the boiling rage and stewing bitterness, years or fury and frustration finally put down on paper.

Except, of course, for all the details that were omitted so that the publishing company could avoid getting sued. If Dave did have to censor himself, it's not noticeable - the book is crammed with annecdotes about James and Lars regurgitating food into each other's mouths like perverted birds, Nick Menza's fascination with gay porn, overdoses, sex addiction, and nervous breakdowns, but all in all it reads more like a trashy tabloid that the history of a thrash titan. Especially since Mustaine has gone off the religious deep end now - did you see him having his group prayer in the Big Four concert DVD? Profoundly disturbing.

As William James said, "The only radical remedy I know for dipsomania is religiomania."

That's not to say Mustaine's book isn't worth reading - it's fascinating to find out Dave's justifications for all the feuds he started (Dave's hate list), and plumb the depths of his monstrous ego. Megadeth's history is broken down into bite-sized chunks, with chapter titles like "I pray the Lord my soul to keep - I'm tired of the tour, I'm tired of Megadeth, I'm not having any fun... and you don't want me to drink, so I'm taking Valium instead".
The book makes sense out of chaos, explaining the why's and how's of the numerous line-up changes that Megadeth has gone through. Dave also dishes out the reasoning behind hos dodgy career moves, like "Risk".
The only problem is that it's all very cheap and undignified. Dave comes across as part Hasselhoff and part Terminator, and the book makes it harder to respect him as a person.
The ending is especially unsatisfying. It arrives all of a sudden, as if Mustaine and Layden had no idea how to finish up so they just arbitrarily cut the cord wherever. Dave weaves in a lame religious parable and then comes up with this cringe-worthy finale: "At some point, you have to wonder how many times does God have to say 'Dude, I love you,' before I straighten up for good? I've got everything a man could want, and then some. It's time."
Terrible!! Victorians used to tell their children or servants or something that they should be seen but not heard. A similar rule applies to Dave: he is meant to be listened to, but not known, because who he is is kind of disappointing.
So my verdict is: half interesting, half a let-down, but a guilty pleasure nonetheless.

Raven

Raven are easily looked over, hidden under the hullaballoo surrounding Anvil. But unlike Anvil, who are three parts Spinal Tap and only one part prophetic metalheads, Raven are actual heavy metal pros.

They began honing their craft in Newcastle in 1974 (from the same evil town that spawned Venom and, highly recommended by this author, Newcastle Brown Ale), and never really stopped, albeit going through a lineup change when their drummer/hockey goalie went off to become a session musician for Harry Connick Jr., and being briefly interrupted by a wall falling on Mark Gallagher and crushing his legs.

 This armor could only contain the jazz hands for so long...

I never thought about Raven much until I saw them live. I saw the video for On and On and was taken by the song's catchiness, but ultimately dismissed the band as just another cheesy British act confused about whether to go heavy metal and make real music or go glam and sell records.
But Raven were never confused, and I witnessed proof of their sense of purpose and direction at one of their 35th Anniversary tour gigs.

They got off to a start - the first thing you notice about Raven on stage is that they're real cartoon characters, the Gallagher brothers look like they came straight out of Asterix and Obelix.

Unlike Anvil, who get a bit neurotic (and who can blame them? Living in Toronto's frozen suburban wastelands and working shitty jobs between gigs would depress anyone), Raven actually have a sense of humor, an attitude that metal is the funnest thing in the world (like Scott Ian from Anthrax).

At first, John Gallagher's screaming banshee vocals were a brutal assault on the ears, but after getting acclimatized, what followed was unstoppable headbanging. What's more, respect to Gallagher for singing the way he does. One of the new generation of metalheads' greatest weaknesses is that they all sound exactly the same, either singing with their cookie monster death growls or their melodic crooning whines. Original voices, like Hetfield's used to be, or Bobby Blitz's, or Rob Halford's, or of course John Gallagher's, are rare and endangered indeed.
The setlist was:

Take Control

Live at the Inferno
All For One
Breaking You Down
Rock Until You Drop
A facemelting solo by Mark Gallagher

Speed of the Reflex / Run Silent, Run Deep / Mind Over Metal

A blistering bass solo by John Gallagher
Long Day's Journey
Lambs to The Slaughter
Bulldozer
On and On
For the Future

and for the encore, another faceblasting bass solo followed by Break the Chain / Symptom of the Universe / Won't Get Fooled Again / Summertime Blues / Genocide / Break the Chain (reprise).

Take Control, On and On and Rock Until You Drop were the highlights. The guitar solos were prodigious and John Gallagher was a major rager on the bass. Raven deliver the metal goods with such boundless enthusiasm that it's impossible not to like them.

The night ended with a hug from John Gallagher - yes, that's right, one of the UK's metal gods hugged me! One of my proudest moments.

CHRISTMAS!!!!

It's Christmas soon! I am such a procrastinator, I have yet to write my post about the Raven show, and my review of Mustaine's autobiography, and 'I Am Ozzy'... now that finals are over I might have a smidgen of time but probably not!
Today they're playing the classic Rebel Without a Cause on TV so I felt compelled to write up a list of my favorite Christmas movies of all time (I know, Rebel Without a Cause isn't even a Christmas movie, it's a strange source of inspiration).
Here they are (not in order of preference because that would be too hard, but the ones in red are the true masterpieces).
A Christmas Story (1983) - the leg lamp!!!
The Canterville Ghost (1944) - only this one, and definitely NOT the remake with Patrick Stewart
Christmas in Connecticut (1945) - and also the 90s remake by Schwarzenegger with Diane Cannon
Scrooged (1988)
The Christmas Tree (1996)
Ernest Saves Christmas (1988)
White Christmas (1954)
The Bishop's Wife (1947)
National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation (1989)
Miracle on 34th St (any of them)
A Charlie Brown Christmas (1965)
Ghostbusters II (1989)
Die Hard (1988)
Lethal Weapon (1987) - see the scene with Mel Gibson and the thugs in the Christmas tree lot!
Bad Santa (2003)
Home Alone (1990)
The best ones are all from the 1940s and the 1980s. I wonder what that means.
HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!

The Comet Is Coming!

Comet Hartley 2 is going to get really close to the Earth on October 20th - close enough to see with the nekkid eye (although considering that we all live in light polluted cities, probably need some binoculars). The comet is Hartley 2, first discovered in 1986, the year the Dead Kennedys were taken to court by the PMRC for Frankenchrist (Jello won), the year Master of Puppets was released, the year Raven released The Pack is Back, and the year Megadeth released Peace Sells...But Who's Buying?
What a year!
Anyway, the comet was discovered by Malcolm Hartley, and it orbits the Earth once every 6 and a half years - but this time its special, because it's making its closest approach to Earth since its discovery (close = about 11 million miles away).
Look for it towards the East (if you're in the US, I guess), near the constellation Auriga and its really bright star, Capella. It should look like a 'ghostly' green blob (just in time for Halloween). The best time to see it is early in the morning, so when you're stumbling home from a show look up at the sky.


The next post will be a metal one, I promise. In fact, I'm not reviewing Dave Mustaine's book yet because I have midterms, but I'm definitely going to be reviewing the Raven show I went to... John Gallagher hugged me!