Today, everything is coming up pluses thanks to a rare good mood and the fact that once I've finished my eight or so hours at the grind I'll be heading over to the corner music store for an acoustic performance by one of my all-time favorites, Camper Van Beethoven. Here's hoping they dust off some of the goodies from Telephone Free Landslide Victory, great songs such as "The Day That Lassie Went to the Moon" or "Mao Reminisces about His Days in Southern China." Full report once I've recovered from my giddiness. Anyway, the pluses:
+ It appears that Hunter S. wanted his cremated remains fired from a cannon. "If the Thompson job were his, [Colorado firework impresario Marc Williams] said, he would probably blast the ashes from a 12-inch-diameter mortar 800 feet into the sky. Then a second, window-rattling blast would scatter them amid a blossom of color 600 feet across." Damn fine idea.
+ Newsweek columnist Gersh Kuntzman investigates the banning of the sale of Alabama's state whiskey by the state of Alabama. He makes the point that it's not just the official state whiskey that seems watered down:
The obvious watering down of Alabama's "official" symbols started in the early 1990s. In rapid succession, state lawmakers approved an official state reptile (the Alabama Red-bellied turtle, 1990), state shell (Scaphella junonia johnstoneae, 1990), state outdoor drama (William Gibson's “The Miracle Worker,” 1991—a great play, of course, but only when performed outside, apparently), state barbecue championship (Demopolis Christmas on the River Cook-off, 1991), agricultural museum (Dothan Landmarks Park, 1992), horseshoe tournament (Stockton Fall Horseshoe Tournament, 1992), historic theater (Alabama Theatre for the Performing Arts, 1993), outdoor musical drama (“The Incident at Looney's Tavern,” 1993), tree (Southern longleaf pine, 1997), quilt (pine burr quilt, 1997), wildflower (oak-leaf Hydrangea, 1999), amphibian (Red Hills salamander, 2000—does the Red-bellied turtle know?), fruit (blackberry, 2004), and, of course, spirit (Conecuh Ridge whiskey, 2004).
+ Update on a story I reported here a few weeks ago: Nebraska's flaming pile of poop is no longer flaming.
+ Sometimes He really does work in mysterious ways. I've prayed for years, "Please, please, nü metal has to go."
+ Rolling Stone reviews the new Clem Snide album, The End of Love. I've listened to it twice now and all I can say is, I hope it grows on me.
+ Grab yourself a copy of the latest issue of Harper's if for no other reason than to read George Saunder's story, "Brad Carrigan, American."
+ Under the fold: Photo of the flaming pile of poop. Wonder how this would look as SoT's new banner?