I Saw the Devil All the Time

Finally caught up to Jee-woon Kim's I Saw the Devil this week. Really did like it, but y'know, for once, I probably could've done without a lot of the graphic brutality. Come to think of it, I turned off Steven Kastrissios's The Horseman because I just didn't wanna look at it. I dunno, just wasn't rooted deeply enough in any emotional soil to sustain the weight of the onscreen violence. And while I did finish Devil and think it's certainly one of the best serial-killer movies I've seen, there just came points where I thought, "this feels gratuitous and it's not adding anything worthwhile to the picture." I found myself thinking back to Eli Roth's Hostel, a far less elegant film that matches the onscreen awfulness pound for pound, but where I loved it in Hostel (you read that right - I loved Hostel and don't make me defend my fondness for Hostel II, I'll do it), I merely liked Devil. Apples and Oranges you might say and I'd counter with Oranges and Tangerines. We should talk.

What I loved loved loved though? Donal Ray Pollock's The Devil All the Time. I'll be brief 'cause I'm gonna cover it elsewhere in the blogosphere soon, but if anything is gonna top this one for book of the year, it's not on my radar. You know what is on my radar though? Rusty Barnes' collection of short stories Mostly Redneck. Man, if you likes you some hardcrabble, blue-collar Americana, (and if you don't why the hell are you reading this blog?) you've got to check this one out. It won't be available till summer's end, but I'll remind you then. Just save that name and save some money to purchase it when the time comes. (And yeah, cat's-out Pollock will be at Frank Bill's book release in Corydon, IN. on September 10 along with Scott Phillips, Kyle Minor and lil''ol me, but you can catch him in St. Louis at Subterranean Books July 20.)

I was getting pretty tired of The Nerd of Noir reviewing Ray Banks titles that I couldn't get my hands on in the USofA and wrote The Saturday Boy hisself to bitch about it, ('cause you know, he doesn't want anybody not living on the island to be able to read it - must've been my reasoning) and he suggested The Book Depository, which I checked out. A UK online retailer that charges 0 shipping all the time. So, yeah, I ordered his novellas Gun and California and received em by post Monday and Tuesday. Then Wednesday I received Needle #4 featuring part two of Banks' Wolf Tickets, so thanks, I'm full up for that blendashit for another week or so. Thinkin' I'll hit up the Book Depo for summat Allan Guthrie next.

Oh, and if you've read the latest Needle and taken in Daniel O'Shea's The Bard's Confession and Dog's Breakfast by Cameron Ashley - just think how awesome it'd been to have caught them reading it live at N@B last October, (okay, Dan read a different piece). Man, I wish I had a recording of that sexy, manly growls... fucken woof! Look for Dan and Cam to shine in print together in the N@B antho (coming soon!) So, think of the history you've missed and make the fuck sure you show the hell up at the next N@B event August 6 at Meshuggah Cafe with Jesus Angel Garcia, Jane Bradley, David Cirillo and unconfirmed.

And somebody tell me what the sweet hell is going on here? I saw someplace the Duane Swierczynski is reading at a Noir at the Bar event in July. C'mon, that'd be awesome, but it's not nice to tease folks like that. He's not gonna be anywhere near St. Louis before Bouchercon... oh, my bad. He'll be at that other Noir at the Bar. Y'know, the one in La-la-wood that Eric Beetner and Stephen Blackmoore have cooked up to try and approximate a St. Louis evening. As if. Still, the Swizzler's a pretty good start. What really chaps my balls though, is that former St. Louisan Jordan Harper will almost assuredly participate there before he comes back home to read. Really chaps.

Vanity Plates on Children’s Bikes

Who the hell do some kids think they are? Not one kid in history has come even remotely close to earning this magnificent privilege. I know what you’re thinking–Webster–and you’re absolutely correct I forget about Webster. That's my bad. Besides Webster, no kid has done what it takes to rock a sweet, personalized identifier on their bike. And the ones that do have the balls, nay, the audacity to try to pull it off aren't even creative. It's always something super self-indulgent like “Kenneth” or “Amy” or “Dave.” I’m sorry Kenneth, when was it that you were knocking out 100-hour workweeks on Wall Street again? Oh that’s right, NEVER. I didn’t know you were a doctor, Amy. What med school did you go to? One that teaches you how to make crappy art with uncooked pasta and pennies? Never heard of that one. Where’d you do your residency? St. Bieber? Get out of my face. Let me throw a little hypothetical at you, Dr. Amy. My Gam Gam and I are walking down the street when she feels a little pain in her chest. She falls to the ground and you roll by in your little pink Dora the Explorer bike. Thank god, I think to myself, a vanity plate. I run over and ask you to save my sweet Nana and what do you do? You just stare at me like a dumbutt while MeeMaw dies before she’s gotten a chance to tell grandpa she’s been sleeping with the pool man for the past 40 years. So, not only do you kill Bubbe, you send her to hell. Awesome. Thanks. Listen, do us all a favor and lose the pretense until you’ve earned it. That’s all I’m saying. I don't think many of these plates are even registered with their local governments, but let's not get into that.

My Dentist

Sure it’s easy to say you hate dentists. Nobody likes them. They drill holes in your teeth. They’re total assholes. But mine is a particular type of asshole and let me tell you why. Because he doesn’t speak to me. Instead, he relays information by talking to his hygienist, Margaret, while I’m in the room. “Looks like this fella hasn't been flossing as much as we asked him to, hey Margaret? I think he may have lost that floss we gave him. Hmmm, you'd think he’d want to keep his teeth his whole life. Sure would look pretty silly without them.” Margaret nods her head and says stuff like “looks that way,” but I don’t blame her. She’s just trying to earn a paycheck. I think she hates him too. All I can do is focus on the wise advice from the cat hanging from the tree limb in the poster on the ceiling and hang in there.

The Green Bay Packager

Martin H. Greenberg passed away Saturday. He'd anthologized untold numbers of writers in every genre from Kitty Cat Sleuths to Steampunk. Over a hundred books he compiled and edited. He was 70 when he passed. More at Ransom Notes.

My Boss

Here's a breakdown of what makes for a good boss and why mine fails on every single point:

1. Praise in public. Chastise in private.
Good bosses know that praising and encouraging staff members is the key to creating a positive work atmosphere. If a correction needs to be made, it's never a good idea to call someone out in front of the group. Well, this one day I decided to play a goof on my coworker Donald. I gave him an epic atomic wedgie and made him think I was gonna dip his nards in the deep fryer. My boss saw me and completely freaked out right in front of my fellow employees! It's not like any customers saw me so I told him to chillax. I mean, earlier that week I refilled the napkins without even being asked to. Did I get so much as a thank you or a raise? Hell no.

2. Always make team spirit a priority.
In any organization, maintaining good team spirit is critical for better overall employee performance. Everybody knows that. So, during the Monday morning staff meeting I suggested we all take our clothes off and hit this righteous bag of peyote I had. My boss instantly shut me down in a very loud and hurtful manner. See point #1.

3. Share experiences and insights.
Sharing personal anecdotes can be an effective way for a boss to teach valuable lessons in a non-confrontational way. My boss told me about how this one time he ran out of cat food for his ten cats. And there was a blizzard outside, so he killed one of his cats and fed it to the other cats. He said sometimes you need to think on your feet and kill a cat to save nine cats. I'm just kidding, he didn't say any of that, but how awesome would that be if he did! I'm sure he does have a butt-load of cats, though.

4. Be open-minded and an effective listener.
Someone in the team may come up with a new and different way of looking at a problem. For instance, my boss told me to go mop the bathroom and I told him to shove the mop up his ass. Obviously, he doesn't have a very open mind about the best thing to do with the mop.

5. Don't play favorites.
It's obvious to all of us that Dale is the golden child. My boss makes very little effort to hide that fact. He got moved to the register in like two weeks and I don't remember the last time he scrubbed a toilet. Becky told me they went bowling together! Did I get an invite? No. Why don't they just go marry each other or something. Whatever. Like I care. Those guys are losers. I hope they both get herpes.

Game. Set. And match.

Spanish Hype

Will Ricky Rubio be able to live up to the
hype?

It is rare that a player can make the transition from Europe to the NBA.  It can be extremely difficult for a point guard to make the transition to the NBA.  So, just imagine the pressure put on Ricky Rubio.  I mean, look at some of the point guards that Rubio will have to compete against in his rookie year:  Reigning MVP Derrick Rose, Rajon Rondo, second year player John Wall, Chris Paul, Deron Williams, Russell Westbrook... just to name a few.  Not only are these guys quick and talented point guards, but they have a high basketball i.q., and are extremely athletic.  Rubio's lack of explosiveness and athleticism may hinder him from becoming an all-star.  However, he also has a lot right about his game.

Rubio is a true pass first point guard.  Not only that, but is a pure team player.  While he only averaged 4.8 points and 4 assists in his final season playing for Barcelona in the Spanish ACB League, Ricky did all of the little things  He is a kid who wants to win, which in my opinion may be the difference in Minnesota's rise into playoff contention over the course of the next three NBA seasons.  With tremendous court vision, ball handling skills, and solid decision making, Rubio is also very tall for being a pure point guard, measuring at 6'4".  His mid-range game needs to improve, and yes he needs to work on his explosiveness and strength, but there is no doubt that Rubio is a big-time player who should make an impact realtively quickly as a member of the Timberwolves.

Aaron Neville's Mole

Kevin Jonas

Is it just me or is Kevin Jonas really phoning it in these days? This hurts to say, but he seems more concerned with collecting checks and walking down red carpets than being the true musical craftsman he was born to be. No one expects him to return to such heights as Mandy from the Zoey 101: Spring Break-Up soundtrack. Nor can we hope for a duplication of the vortex-bending riffs found on DisneyMania 4’s Yo Ho (A Pirates Life For Me), but we at least deserve to know he’s trying. Perhaps the rumor mill is right. Perhaps he’s no longer interested in pushing himself creatively.

Until this recent period of uncertainty, Kevin had never been one to shy away from austerity (the poignant Lovebug, the retro-futuristic Year 3000 and the provocative masterworks of Camp Rock2: The Final Jam). These classics provided a much-needed counterbalance to more raucous rave-ups like Set This Party Off and That’s Just The Way We Roll. Whereas 2008’s Burnin’ Up exuded the playful existentialism that planted roots in our collective unconscious, their most recent effort – LA Baby (Where Dreams Are Made) – lacks the compositional tension between innocence and impudence that has always distinguished The Jonas Brothers from their rock counterparts.

And I blame Kevin.

Pitch-perfect Nick Jonas remains at the top of his game and Joe hasn’t skipped a beat with his consistently ferocious and always uncompromising percussive attack. So, the question remains. Where is Kevin and when is he coming back? Maybe the answer lies in the second verse of Year 3000:

He took me to the future in the flux thing, and I saw everything
Boy bands, and another one and another one...and another one!
And girls there with blonde hair, like in Star Wars, they floated up on the floor.

Well, Kevin. The world is waiting for you to float again. Just like in Star Wars.

Complaining about how many emails you get

I have a theory that the more you complain about emails, the more you freakin’ love it. And by theory I mean stone-cold fact. “Argh, today is nuts. I have like 600 unread emails sitting in my inbox and it’s only 10:30.” Translation: “I am goddamn amazing. I am wanted. I am a big deal. There’s not enough of me to go around. They should clone me so ten of me could each clone me so there would be umm…many many more of me. It would be a me-posse of pure domination. If I had spare time, which I don’t, I’d turn on my webcam and stare into my eyes to try to learn something. I get so many emails I have to check them during meetings and on elevators and toilets. I am sexually irresistible. And my parents were richer than yours.”