I’m listening to an NPR report at this exact moment. It’s dissecting Hilary Clinton’s election bid, trying to figure out why it failed. Naturally the fact that she is a woman is mentioned and examined. Which led into the “balancing act” that all women in power have to attempt, to be strong without being perceived as too aggressive, and also without denying one’s “femininity.”

All of which is true. Which got me to thinking about Obama, and how he must struggle with the balancing act of not seeming too “black,” with being aggressive without fitting squarely into society’s perception of black rage or impetuousness. His well-crafted, admittedly hollow speeches are compared to other black orators, his locution tailored to appease white voters.

Which really leads me to believe that voters really just want a White Man as president. Even from the non-white non-male candidates they want as many “white” attributes as possible. Why don’t we just come out and admit it. “Senator Clinton, in what ways are you most like a man?”

“Senator Obama, in what ways are you most white? And please highlight any ways in which you may be non-white, but still non-threatening.”

Because, really, no matter who we choose, they’re gonna turn back on their campaign promises, they’re going to make decisions that compromise their ideals, steer our country further towards collapse with their back-alley deals with lobbyists, their concessions to political operators, their inability to think of the greater good.

We’re gonna get fucked, no matter what.

And it looks like, at heart, Americans really just want to get fucked by a white guy.

Being a long time fan of hip hop and being maybe the only one here at the BAT who will admit to watching shows like “Who’s the Hottest MC in the Game” on MTV2, I’ve taken it upon myself to help bring the rest of you non-rap folks into the fold when necessary. This is one of those times. As Biggie once put it, “things done changed.” I agreed, but that was 1995. Now, shit really done changed. Apparently there’s a new way to see if you’re man has been out there sneaking around with other ladies, and quiet honestly it hadn’t occurred to me, until I saw this video…

Shit. That’s what it is. It takes me a few minutes to put it all together, the ungodly smell that assaults me when I enter the hospital room, the details of the patient’s medical history. I already know what’s causing the smell, but the information is shoved out of my brain by the smell, so strong and pungent it’s as if someone is inserting Odor Pellets directly into my nostrils. With a jackhammer.

My job, driving an ambulance, picking up both 911 and non-emergency calls, has put me in the path of a host of smells, none of them good.

But even after five glorious years of that, some smells still get past my experienced nose. Some smells are so sharp, so magical in their strength, that it is all I can do not to die on the spot.

A definition:

An ostomy pouching system (also colloquially and incorrectly called a colostomy bag) is a medical prosthetic that provides a means for the collection of waste from a diverted biological system (colon, ileum, urinary); pouching systems are most commonly associated with colostomies, ileostomies, and urostomies.

What that definition does not tell you is that the “pouching systems,” while containing a patient’s waste (read: feces), does little to block out the smell. The definition also neglects to tell you that, if the smell is any indication, a patient’s normal biological system actually helps disperse the scent of said waste (read: poopoo).

Put another way: your ass sucks up your shit smell. When your ass isn’t involved, your shit smells worse. So bad, in fact, the smell can pierce plastic. Which means it’s probably in my brain right now, driving me insane.

Yay Science!!!!

In the twilight of the Bush era, as the Republican stronghold on our country seems to be unraveling, I am filled with bittersweet memories. 600 sweet ass American dollars worth.

I remember the time planes were crashed into us and the world went topsy turvy. I remember the feeling of impending doom over and over again, as we deployed troops to Afghanistan and then to Iraq. I remember interviewing my friend Dave about his time in Iraq (the first time he went, not the second). I remember seeing our country drift into a very bad place, and at the last election hoping beyond hope that my fellow Americans would have had enough. But they didn’t.

I wondered for a while if some of the balls young people had in the 60’s would make a fashionable comeback, which they did, even if only for a brief second at the RNC convention. The NYPD threw the clamp down, locked a bunch of people up for no good reason, and it seemed, we were in for it for yet another bout of the bad guys running things.

I’m seeing some signs of hope. No doubt because of the official endorsement of the BAT for Mr. Obama, things seem to be steering our way again. Young people voted finally, Jesus F. Christ and even the political juggernaut of the Clintons seems like it’s got a chink in its armor. Things are coming around it seems.

So while we look forward to the end of this nightmare of an administration, lets celebrate, appropriately, with our one gift from that complete dick hole. The Stimulus Check. Not enough to save folks from losing their homes, or even for most folks to pay the rent, but we can certainly do something with it. In fact, lets be smart and put it to use in a way that would put Mr. Bush into a cold sweat. I’m getting a new bike, that is not made out of corn and does not run on oil. Maybe you wanna pay down your debt? Maybe you might donate it to something other than abstinance education? Or maybe you wanna do what my co-worker did and buy one of these: (more…)

Last weekend was one of my best friends’ bachelor party. Naturally, we went to Vegas, rolling seventeen men deep. There was cocaine, ecstasy, alcohol, apricot mousse, more cups of creme bruleé than I care to mention.

Here’s how it went down, according to the notes I kept on my iPhone:

Screwdrivers & chess on the plane. I’ve always found drinking on a plane to be somewhat akin to the feeling James Bond gets when he wakes up in the morning. For me, there is nothing more Adult & Decadent than drinking at forty thousand feet. And both the bachelor and myself are avid chess fans. And yes, I play better drunk. I do believe I had the excellent idea to become some sort of drunk chess savant, cackling, slurring and burping my way to a world championship.

Beer tasting chart. The best man, as part of his Vegas Bachelor Party Master Plan, created a game revolving around tasting disguised beers. The person who correctly identified the most beers won…something. We never found out, as most everyone got too drunk to complete the challenge.

TV in the bathroom mirror. Welcome to the Flamingo Hotel, enjoy, and if you’ve got to go Number Two, we’ve provided you with a TELEVISION SET IN THE BATHROOM MIRROR, so you need miss not a minute of Celebrity Poker.

Jon keeps counting his money. Another of my oldest friends, inexplicably, would over the course of the weekend take his roll of money out of his pocket and count it at least a dozen times. We never found out why. He’d just slowly count it, put it back, then, perhaps an hour later, repeat the maneuver. And no money was spent during that gap.

…Nobody gets him, man, he’s the wind.

Will won’t sit down. Big Will, we call him, because, well, he is rather large. And he doesn’t sit. Over a three day period, I saw him sit a total of zero times. Never saw him eat, either, but he’s just gotta do that. Big Will, remember? (more…)

Another week, another dozen or so albums listened to. These is the gems, readily available on our MUXTAPE:

Angels - Pastor Tower Cannon
A short sweet sermon from our very own minister. Required listening for anyone who sins.

Time of the Season - The Zombies
Got this album from the internet with no artist attached, just the album title, Odessey & Oracle. Only when I wikipedia’ed it, did I discover it featured one of my favorite songs. Always dug this one, and never had any idea what album is what from. Hell, with my memory, I probably could only tell you who sung it 40% of the time. And yes, that’s the title, misspelling of “odessey” and everything.

You’ll Find a Way - Santogold
The single from Santogold’s album is wicked tight, but the album, like most albums, takes a bit of a dive in the second half. Too much like M.I.A. for my tastes. I mean, I like M.I.A., but I’ve got her album. I want M.I.A., I’ll just go listen to M.I.A.

Fortunately this song is the second track on the album, and I actually prefer it to the single.

Colleen - The Heavy
These guys came out of nowhere. For me, anyway. They’re British, but don’t hold that against them. They bring to bear some heavy soul that, from the first song to the last, keeps you moving.

The Equestrian - Les Savy Fav
I hated these guys. Hated their art rock philosophy, their sheen of indie cool, the tones of reverence music blogs used when speaking of them.

But then I heard some live jams of theirs. And damned if they don’t deliver. The lead singer’s voice is still a bit “i’m indie so i do high talky more than sing,” but they’re still rock n’ roll where it counts.

Nighttiming - Coconut Records
Again, there’s something in me that hates. This…thing, this elitist monster in my brain, it has a bias against actors who become singers, or singers who become actors, or anyone who becomes anything else, not because of any particular talent, but because it’s the Thing to Do.

So I came into this band ready to hate. Because, you see, this is a Jason Schwartzman joint. He of Rushmore, and other movies that are nowhere near as good as Rushmore.

And again was pleasantly surprised. It’s light, it’s breezy, it’s hip yacht rock for the 21st century.

Dropped - Phantom Planet
This is a holdover from the last playlist, because I’m still listening to it. It’s a good song, they’re a good band, I think they don’t get a lot of credit because they did that California song that ended up being the theme song for The O.C., and that’s a shame.

California Dreamer - Wolf Parade
Got this album saturday. Sunday I was proclaiming it a disappointment. But I’ve been listening to it every day since. When they say it’s a “grower,” that doesn’t mean four or five listens. Oh no. It was days before I began to notice how enjoyable the songs were. This one’s long, and involved, it’s like this pasta I had last night, those thick hollow pasta noodles, and some chicken and some mushrooms with cheese on top and a marinara sauce, lots of elements that really come together well.

Damn, now I’m hungry. You go listen to some music, I’m gonna nosh.

Caitlin wanted me to tell her some Vegas stories, so we went to dinner.
We made plans to go to Swingers, ostensibly to oogle the waitresses there, as the place has a rock n’ roll theme that apparently includes making the waitresses wear short skirts and fishnets.

We could’ve just gone to a diner in the valley, would’ve been much easier. But I wasn’t willing to skip out on pumpkin pie.

Oh sure, I can tell stories anywhere. I can listen to her talk about those crazy cokeheads she lived with in the Valley just as easy as I can in Hollywood.

But I really really wanted pumpkin pie. And once she saw it in front of us, a tasty scoop of ice cream riding shotgun, she wanted some, too.

Waitresses weren’t that hot last night, but the PIE WAS. mmmmm.

Updated our Muxtape with the jams that’ve been on Repeat on my various music devices of late. Let’s go through it together, shall we?

Open Your Eyes - Bobby Caldwell
My friend’s dad, a one-time member of the Miami Sound Machine, played the drums on this track. But even if he didn’t, this is some damn fine yacht rock. White dude with soul, y’all. White dude with soul.

Ever Find Yourself - Emitt Rhodes
Singer/songwriter from the 70s who got chewed up and spit out by the record industry. But before he did, he put out an album of McCartney-ish goodness, featuring this track.

They Will Kill Us All - The Bronx
While I wait for this amazingly good L.A. band to finish their third album, I use their first album as methadone to the crack I am sure they are producing. The weirdest part of my appreciation for this band, and a grim statement on the record industry? The lead singer has to work as an usher at a local concert hall to help pay the bills. Saw him there one night, while I was working on a little side project. Told him he and his crew were aces.

Brothers and sisters, buy their albums, help these folks out. Man making music this good shouldn’t have to deal with our drunk asses. Unless we’re at his concert.

Screamin’ Eagle - The Dessert Sessions
While driving back from SF the other weekend, down the interstate freeway that was mostly desolation and dirt, I was reminded of Josh Homme, he who hails from the California desert of similar terrain. This is from the first album of his at times genius, at times downright nonsensical side project.

Waterloo Sunset - The Kinks
Was mellowing out to this one last Sunday, just takin’ ‘er easy, watching the sun come up. And proceed to cook the city like a tamale.

Angela’s Secrets - These Arms are Snakes
Always on the look out for new Rock, I stumbled upon these guys. This song is hot, reminiscent of the some Angel Dust-era Faith No More, but the rest of the record just falls into standard nu-rock territory.

From a Mountain in the Middle of the Cabins - Panic at the Disco
Simple little song, but far better than I’d ever expect from a band that used to have a “!” in their name.

I Will Possess Your Heart - Death Cab For Cutie
Fresh track, if for no other reason than it’s a song about a stalker…well, stalking.

What’s a Girl to Do? - Bat For Lashes
First off, go check the video over at youtube, then listen to this one again. Bit haunting, bit creepy.

Dropped - Phantom Planet
My current favorite song. Been listening to this at least a dozen times a day. Damn thing’s just so fucking catchy. I’m a sucker for hand claps, harmony and electronic keyboards.

What’s a tabernacle without a preacher? We’ll never have to find out, because we’ve got our very own Pastor Cannon, back to minister to our hearts and souls.

Pastor Cannon sought us out, said ours was the perfect venue to help spread his…unique message.

So open your ears, turn off your iTunes, tell that gossipy co-worker to shut it down, and give here a listen to Pastor Tower Canon:

Download link