A music recommendation: Ethiopiques Vol. 14: Negus of Ethiopian Sax by Getatchew Mekurya. (It’s on eMusic, although they spell his first name as “Getachew.”)

Mekurya is evidently the greatest saxophonist in Ethiopian history. In the ’50s, he adapted a traditional Ethiopian war chant to his instrument, creating a style based on lots of trilling, wild scale work, and a very Ornette Coleman-sounding free jazz style. The backing band isn’t amazing, but there’s a clear Miles fusion influence there. It sounds inspired, tense, druggy, and spooky all at the same time.

Picture a Quentin Tarantino movie whose climactic scene features John Travolta nervously making an opium deal in the back room of some Turkish bath. This would be the soundtrack. (“Akale Wube,” track 11, in particular.)

In any event, I just find it amazing that this man, completly cut off from the mainstream of the jazz world, could be doing something so innovative — with apparently no knowledge of what Coleman and his peers were doing in the U.S. and Europe.

This is what I miss about the old eMusic. Until October, it offered unlimited free downloads of its entire catalog, which was a terrific incentive to listen to an artist with whom you were completely unfamiliar. Would I have run across Getatchew Mekurya any other way, not being an exceptionally knowledgable fan of jazz or world music? Nope.

Getatchew must be getting up there in years, but he’s still playing, evidently.

28 February 2004 | No comments

FYI, I just taped another TXCN appearance. It should play hourly through the day tomorrow — might start this evening, too.

Also, should have a front-page story in tomorrow’s paper. Many of my stories appeal to pretty narrow policy-wonk demographics, but I think this one should appeal to everyone. It’s about putting fish oil in school lunches.

I’m off to give a speech I’m utterly unprepared for. Education conference this weekend, so I’ll probably yack atcha in a few days.

27 February 2004 | No comments

My college paper never thought our readers needed this kind of a how-to guide. Perhaps the good people of Northern Arizona University are a bit slow.

(I love this letter to the editor in response to the above story. “The article was not particularly informative (I knew all of the points she discussed)…”)

26 February 2004 | 1 comment

It’s time for my annual link to Fametracker’s annual Oscar predictions, as filtered through five sex-crazed clones of Karl Malden.

26 February 2004 | No comments

1936 Chevrolet promotional newsreel. Featuring sand surfing, Punch Drunk Percy, and a scene in downtown Dallas, Texas, where people were evidently tremendously excited about the new “five-cent parking machine,” also known as “the parking watchdogometer.”

26 February 2004 | No comments

I just interviewed NFL Hall of Famer, Super Bowl MVP, eight-time 1,000-yard rusher, recipient of the Immaculate Reception, and Pittsburgh Steeler great Franco Harris. And I didn’t even realize who I was talking to until the interview was over.

I should really pay more attention.

25 February 2004 | 3 comments

You may remember that I was a Pew Fellow in International Journalism last fall, which took me to Zambia for six weeks.

You may also remember that I kept a blog, zambiastories.com, while I was overseas.

Assuming your medication is working, you may also remember that I set up blogs for several of my fellow Pew Fellows while they were off galavanting in the countries of their choice. (Jeremy Kahn in Ivory Coast; Noel Paul in Russia; Marcia Franklin in Iran; Jessie Deeter in Sierra Leone; Suzanne Marmion in Egypt; Antrim Caskey in Argentina.)

Well, one of the many things that have kept me busy of late has been setting up and hosting blogs for the next batch of Pew Fellows. I hereby present:

- Recuerdos, a blog from Mexico by Molly Hennessy-Fiske of The (Raleigh) News & Observer.

- Moscow to the End of the Line, a blog from (duh) Russia by Nathan Hodge of Defense Week.

- Anatolian Diary, a blog from Turkey by Siobhan Roth of Legal Times.

- Tales From Kenya, a blog from, um, Kenya by Sadie Babits of Arizona Public Radio.

They’ll all be well worth reading, not least because they’re all fabulous people who are working on terrific stories. So bookmark ‘em today — they’ll all be in country for the next 5.5 weeks.

25 February 2004 | 1 comment

Here’s my story from today’s paper. It includes my first ever reference to Bela Lugosi in a newspaper story.

Also, if you’re a Dallas-area member of the Alpha Delta Kappa sorority, you’ll be hearing me speak at your meeting tonight. On what, I’m not sure. But I’ve got a few hours to come up with something.

24 February 2004 | No comments

An update to that last Cajun post: Karen points out this piece from today’s Morning Edition on a related topic — the bizarre prism through which Cajuns are viewed in popular culture.

It’s an interview with Shane Bernard, a guy I’ve been meaning to have a beer with for about a decade now and the author of [the crabwalk.com-recommended] The Cajuns: Americanization of a People. Shane hits the right points about how a variety of factors (World War II service, the rise of television) led to the loss of much of Cajun culture and how goofy movies like The Big Easy and Southern Comfort caricature Cajuns, generally in unflattering ways. (He didn’t even mention the abominable The Waterboy, a movie whose mere mention makes me angry. For what it’s worth, Passion Fish remains one of the few mainstream Hollywood movie I’ve seen that nailed my part of the country.)

He also hits on one of my pet peeves — those who confuse New Orleans (a fine, fine city in its own right) with Cajun country. Very different places, people. There are essentially no Cajuns in New Orleans, for starters. (There are many more Cajuns in Houston than in New Orleans.) If you see anything Cajun in New Orleans, there’s a 99 percent chance it’s been faked and imported by the tourism industry in the last 20 years. Cajun music, zydeco, boudin, swamps, boiled crawfish — not New Orleans. (And for that matter: jazz, beignets, voodoo, those epic Mardi Gras parades — not Cajun.)

24 February 2004 | 3 comments

Happy Mardi Gras, everybody.

For those interested, the Louisiana Mardi Gras imagery you’re used to (boob flashing, bead wearing, drunken Kansans) is pretty much limited to New Orleans. In Cajun country, where I’m from, Mardi Gras is more rural and traditional. (And I’d say “better.”)

Mamou and Church Point host the ur-Cajun Mardi Gras. Mamou’s a cute little town, home of the legendary Fred’s Lounge, and home of Revon Reed and Paul Tate, two of the leading Cajun cultural activists of the ’50s and ’60s. (It’s not exaggerating much to say that without folks like Reed, Tate, Dewey Balfa, James Domengeaux, and Barry Ancelet working hard to preserve the traditions of the past, Cajun music would be just another dead regional music by now.)

24 February 2004 | 1 comment

Remember when I mentioned The Grey Album, the samizdat remix disc that merges the Beatles’ beats with Jay-Z’s words? The record companies involved (or more precisely, the record companies who were not involved) have been trying to shut down distribution. In response, for today only, you can download the full album via greytuesday.org.

Some of the download sites are already broken; for what it’s worth, I just downloaded my copy from this site.

24 February 2004 | 4 comments

Intriguing-if-true rock tidbit: The Afghan Whigs (who were better than you remember, if my current listening thoughts are accurate) were “named after a Florida-based white Muslim biker gang from the Sixties who were into love, not war.”

I’m still a little pissed that someone stole my copy of Congregation in college. On first-listen-in-seven-years, Black Love is solid (if a little sonically dated). And of course, as previously hyped here, Gentlemen is an absolute classic.

23 February 2004 | No comments

I just grilled myself a burger for dinner.

Why has no one ever told me how glorious homemade burgers are? Seriously, I should have been let in on this secret before age 28.

(Actually, I should have shuffled off the collegiate life of fast food and nuked frozen things before age 28.)

See, I’ve been trying to eat better the last few months — a largely successful effort, I must say, if 35 pounds lost means anything. But I went straight from crap into lots of fish, fruit, and rice dishes. I skipped right over burgers in the transition. What a horrible, horrible mistake. (Also of note: Ground beef is substantially cheaper than salmon.)

If you’re curious what goes into my Louisiana-themed Joshburger (this makes three burgers):

1 pound lean ground beef
A few shizzle-dizzles of Tony Chachere’s Original Creole Seasoning [Chachere’s is pronounced “SASH-er-ees,” by the way. If you can’t remember the spelling, you can always get to the web site via icantspellit.com.]
A few shiznits of Tiger Sauce
A few schlemiels of boring ol’ grated parmesan cheese
A few schlemazels of Worcestershire sauce

Mix it all in a bowl. Fashion it into three patties — make ‘em a little skinny, like a modified hot dog. Grill it up (go George!) to medium rare — about four minutes. While that’s going on, slather Zatarain’s creole mustard on two hot dog buns.

Then split the patty in half and slap ‘em on the buns. (Note: This frankfurter-fueled improvisation was caused by my lack of hamburger buns. But it works!) Then — this is key — sprinkle a little extra Tony Chachere’s and splatter a little extra Tiger Sauce on the meat.

Then consume, ravenously.

23 February 2004 | No comments

Those interested in achieving a higher state of Joshism may wish to tune into TXCN tomorrow morning at 7:30 a.m., where I’ll be talking about my story in tomorrow’s paper.

What’s it about, you ask? Standardized testing. It’s springtime in Texas. All I ever write about in spring is standardized testing.

Warning: It’s an in-studio appearance (as opposed to my usual remote shots), so you’ll even get to see me from the shoulders down. Which means I really should do laundry tonight.

Warning: It’s at 7:30 a.m., significantly earlier than I am normally awake. So I may doze off mid-interview, or at least have significant bags under me peepers.

23 February 2004 | No comments

For those interested, football went well Saturday. Two touchdowns scored by yours truly. I am an offensive juggernaut, truly.

Of course, you can read that last sentence in two ways.

No game this weekend, but we’ll bring it back the following weekend.

23 February 2004 | No comments

My De La Post yesterday made me break out my older rap CDs. So here’s a 13-years-too-late recommendation for the oft-overlooked classic A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing by Black Sheep. (The followup was crap — there’s only one good Black Sheep album.) It’s got that laid-back Native Tongues feel (more Tribe than De La), but enough playful sexism to avoid the light-in-the-loafers tag some slapped on their musical peers. “Flavor of the Month”? “The Choice is Yours”? “To Whom It May Concern”? Stone cold classics, I say.

And — I never thought I’d say this about a rap record — some good skits, too.

20 February 2004 | 1 comment

I’ll be on TXCN this afternoon and evening — starting (probably) sometime in the 4:00 hour and repeating until the end of time. Or tomorrow morning, whichever comes first. I’ll be talking about my story from yesterday’s front page.

If you live in Texas and aren’t sure if you get TXCN from your cable operator, here are the various channels to check.

20 February 2004 | No comments

Props to my employer for devoting the better of a page in today’s paper to a fond tribute to De La Soul’s 3 Feet High and Rising, released 15 years ago. (I’m already on record [track 15] as being a 1989-era Native Tongues fan.)

In solidarity with the DMN, today is De-La-in-the-CD-player day. Prince Paul needs a haircut, indeed.

19 February 2004 | 1 comment

Here’s my story from today’s front page, on Texas’ new school ratings system. (There’s more detail in some graphics that aren’t online — if you’re really interested, track down a paper version of the, er, paper.)

19 February 2004 | 1 comment

Watch Microsoft swear. Favorite self-criticism of one’s programming skillz: “The magnitude of this hack compares favorably with that of the national debt.”

18 February 2004 | No comments

Are you a Dallas-area male itching to play some football?

(Two-hand touch football, to be specific.)

My occasional Saturday morning football game is starting up again. Very informal — no structure. Just a pickup game between whomever shows up on any given Saturday, usually 8-12 people. And if you’re the kind of guy who was always the last one picked for teams when you were a kid — don’t worry. Most of us were that guy. (Well, some of us. Others were second-to-last.)

If you’re interested in more info (first game is this weekend), lemme know.

17 February 2004 | 4 comments

New London School Explosion, 1937. (As crass as it may seem, that’d be a good band name.)

This has been sort of a crass stretch on crabwalk.com, hasn’t it? Apologies.

17 February 2004 | 1 comment

Oh my. At first, I thought this was about some crime from South Africa’s apartheid past. Unfortunately, it’s not.

17 February 2004 | No comments

I’m still not 100% sold on the album (I like it, but the jury’s still out on full-blown “classic” status). But I’m ready to swear on a stack of Bibles that the Walkmen’s song “The Rat” is the greatest StairMaster song ever. Great for running, too. It’s like Joshua Tree-era U2 strapped to a nuclear jet pack and launched into the stratosphere. (With a dollop of relationship angst on top.) Matt Barrick’s drumming is nothing short of profound.

17 February 2004 | 1 comment

A fun, if gruesome, crabwalk.com game! Find the dead body in this photo. (Which accompanies this story.)

17 February 2004 | 1 comment

And you thought “Capturing the Friedmans” was something. (The psychiatric industry has an awful lot to answer for from the 1980s.)

Wal-Mart: Your total escape solutions leader.

Driving while sharked.

Don’t mess with a man on a bike.

17 February 2004 | No comments

Triumph the Insult Comic Dog rocks les Quebecois.

16 February 2004 | No comments

Time for another official crabwalk.com album recommendation: Sufjan Stevens’ Greetings from Michigan: The Great Lakes State. A concept album all about Stevens’ home state (and allegedly the first in a 50-state series — I’ll believe that when I see No. 2). Great Michigander-centric track names (“Flint (For the Unemployed and Underpaid),” “Detroit, Lift Up Your Weary Head! (Rebuild! Restore! Reconsider!),” “They Also Mourn Who Do Not Wear Black (For the Homeless in Muskegon)”).

This is what folk music should be. It manages to be stripped down and complex at the same time, not least because of Stevens’ amazing instrumental abilities. (He plays no fewer than 21 instruments on the album, including oboe, vibraphone, and wood flute. And the man kicks ass on the banjo. Seriously, this may be the best banjo album in centuries.)

Stereolab’s polyrhythms are an obvious influence, but Stevens trades in their icy cool for a fragile, rickety, emotionally open beauty. Maybe Nick Drake meets Stereolab. The instrumentals are gorgeous, and his voice is like torn velvet. It’s a great record to listen to right before bed.

But the kickers are the two final tracks, “Redford (for Yia-Yia & Pappou)” and “Vito’s Ordination Song.” “Redford” manages to break your heart with a simple, almost monotonous piano line. Then comes “Vito’s.” Get more than two drinks in me and I swear this song’ll make me cry: a funeral-march snare drum, tasteful strings, and beautifully naive vocals by Stevens and Elin Smith, singing “Rest in my arms / Sleep in my bed / There’s a design to what I did and said.” Makes you want to hug people.

16 February 2004 | No comments

Here’s my column from today’s newspaper. It’s about some very interesting research in how teachers/parents can overcome educational stereotypes (e.g., girls are bad at math, minorities can’t learn, etc.). Also, my first reference in print to Barbie’s incredible bod.

16 February 2004 | No comments

In case anyone’s wondering who the mysterious Alex Polier was in that Gettysburgesque post Friday — my employer can tell you more.

I put that post together to see how Google would react. The post obviously had no substance — just Lincoln’s words with names subbed in a few places. And I didn’t feel guilty about using her name since I provided no context — the only people who’d find it would be people who already knew her name and were actively searching for it.

The answer: Google started sending me hits Saturday mid-morning, then mysteriously turned off the spigot for a few hours. Altavista and other search engines kept them coming. Then early Sunday morning, Google recanted and slapped me on the front page of results (No. 7 for most of the day, No. 3 for the longer form of her name).

I’m still getting tons of hits — about 10 a minute at the moment from Google alone. I’m on pace for about 1,500 more hits than normal today.

(Update, 1:39 p.m.: Make that more like 3,000 more hits than normal today.)

(Update, 2:10 p.m.: Make that more like 4,500 more hits than normal. Geez. Interestingly, I’m getting a ton of “alexandra” hits and very few “alex” ones now, despite the fact this site shows up on the first results page for both searches. Since the “alex” search shows a more recognizable Gettysburg excerpt in the result preview, I’m guessing more people realize it won’t be worth a clickthrough.)

(Update, 3:21 p.m.: Hits now coming at about 20 a minute. Commenter John Scott points out that the AP story that moved today — the first exposure in most legitimate media to The Name — calls her Alexandra, not Alex. Hence the Alexandra spike. Most of the underground mentions over the weekend had used Alex. At the moment, it’s 2,201 searchers for “Alexandra” vs. 821 for “Alex.”)

(Update, Tuesday, 10:16 a.m.: Well, the final results are in. Total unique visitors: 5,574. Since the last update, the pro-Alexandra shift has been more pronounced: 2,063 Alexandras vs. 106 Alexes, matching the AP’s usage. I’m still getting about 1.5 hits a minute on her name.)

Don’t worry, regular readers — this experiment in Drudgery is now ended.

16 February 2004 | 2 comments

Not to be all Drudge-like, but don’t be surprised if you hear some very big news regarding a major Texas political leader in the next 24-48 hours.

13 February 2004 | 12 comments

Background: I announced the death of the CD Mix of the Month Club almost one year ago and shipped out the club’s last CDs last March.

One of my regular traders was Alan, a web man for the Internet arm of my corporate employer. Since he works in the building next door to mine, I would always send him his discs via interoffice mail.

Yesterday, Alan emailed me a note of thanks for the new CDMOM disc I’d sent him. As I said, I haven’t sent anyone a CDMOM disc in many moons. It appears that a CD I sent him via interoffice mail a year ago just arrived in his mailbox.

I hope some mailroom employee enjoyed his Year of Indie Rock.

13 February 2004 | No comments

Purely as an experiment into the power of Google, I am typing the following paragraph. Feel free to ignore. Should you ever read this, Alex: No offense intended, honestly. It’s just cryptic research into search engine methodologies.

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent Alex Polier, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation or Alex Polier can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of John Kerry. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a final resting-place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that Alex Polier should do this. But in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this Alexandra Polier. The brave men, living and dead who struggled here have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note nor long remember what Alex Polier says here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for John Kerry rather to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for John Kerry to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of Alexandra Polier — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain, that this nation under God shall have a new birth of freedom, and that Alex Polier shall not perish from the earth.

13 February 2004 | 7 comments

Back in the day, I took a psych course called “The Psychology of Persuasion.” (I’m paraphrasing.) In part, I remember it because it was the first class I went to in my first semester of freshman year — a fairly memorable circumstance.

But I really remember it because I found the subject fascinating. It was all about how propaganda works, how social education campaigns work (or don’t), how crowds turn into mobs, and so on. All that classic Zimbardo/Stanford prison experiment stuff.

Anyway, my column in Monday’s paper is about a sector of social psych, so I’ve been doing some reading on the Pygmalion effect:

In 1971 Robert Rosenthal, a professor of social psychology at Harvard, described an experiment in which he told a group of students that he had developed a strain of super-intelligent rats that could run mazes quickly. He then passed out perfectly normal rats at random, telling half of the students that they had the new “maze-bright” rats and the other half that they got “maze-dull” rats.

Apparently, the bloomers had done what was expected of them and the teachers were comfortable with them. The other students who did well surprised the teachers; they did the unexpected and the teachers were not as comfortable with them. It may be that they were thought of as overstepping their bounds or labeled as troublemakers.

12 February 2004 | No comments

While I’m busy mooning over the lineups of California music festivals, I might as well talk up Noise Pop at the end of this month. (I happened to be in S.F. during the festival back in ‘98 and got to see the world premiere of Kurt & Courtney. As recently as a couple weeks ago, I was half considering heading out there again at month’s end.)

Among the bands performing: British Sea Power, Call & Response, Neko Case, the Decemberists, Earlimart, Gold Chains, Kelly Hogan, Low, the Minders, Pedro the Lion, Preston School Of Industry, Rilo Kiley, The Stills, the Stratford 4, Super Furry Animals, Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players, The Unicorns, John Vanderslice, the Velvet Teen, Visqueen, and the Wrens. And of course the return of the mighty American Music Club.

12 February 2004 | 3 comments

I’m not normally one to promote the work of competing Dallas media, but KTVT-11 has a good jailhouse interview with John Battaglia, one of the most pitiful human beings imaginable. (He’s the accountant who, seeking to get back at his ex-wife, shot and killed his two daughters while on the phone with his ex. A seriously evil man.)

11 February 2004 | 2 comments

Seriously, the lineup for Coachella is getting downright insane. I mean: Belle & Sebastian, Mogwai, Ash, the Rapture, Death Cab For Cutie, Stereolab, The Black Keys, DJ Danger Mouse, Pixies, Radiohead, Kraftwerk, Wilco, Flaming Lips, Broken Social Scene, Kinky, the Cure, Air, Dizzee Rascal, !!!, and Prefuse 73. That’s just nuts. It’s like the CD Mix of the Month Club come back to life.

Almost makes the thought of flying out to California sound like a worthwhile investment. Or perhaps it’s time for that long-rumored crabwalk.com American Southwest Listening Tour, in which my trusty 1996 Mitsu braves the elements for a little 2,600-mile round-trip road trip.

11 February 2004 | 5 comments

“My nipples look forward to your stomach.”

11 February 2004 | 2 comments

Here’s my story from today’s front page, on the role alumni interviews play in the college admissions process.

09 February 2004 | 3 comments

I absolutely love the idea behind these upcoming shows at Rubber Gloves in Denton:

Friday, February 13-
GOTH VALENTINE’S DAY (SAD VERSION) on FRIDAY THE THIRTEENTH with
Jetscreamer
Faux Fox
Record Hop
Nightgame
$6
smiling is optional, wearing black is not.

Saturday, February 14-
VALENTINE’S DAY MAKEOUT PARTY (HAPPY VERSION) w/
Matt Cheney
Prince William
Jackson 8
Blueprint Sea
$5

The best part: The sad people have to pay an extra buck.

08 February 2004 | 2 comments

Two new MP3s of note:

- Ladies and Gentlemen, It’s Time, the first new track from this site’s namesake American Music Club in nine years.

- Born in ‘72, the latest preview from Travis Morrison’s upcoming album.

I can’t say I’m in love with either of them, but one song leaves me very happy and one grumpy. The Morrison is the grumpster — it shows him falling farther into novelty (as previously feared) and away from the sort of smart college-boy funk-punk he used to produce. I’m fearing the new album more and more.

The AMC track is solid but not great. But it does have two things working in its favor:

1. Jeezumpete, it’s a new American Music Club track! Nine years, people!

2. It actually sounds like the AMC of old. The same jazzy bass, the loose drumming, the airy sound that manages to be loungy but not kitschy. There’s even a verse featuring that most classic of AMC images, the bartender-as-savior (“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time / The bartender is looking you right in the eye / He says someone will replace all that thin blood with my wine / You can live with the truth, you can live with a lie”).

Mark Eitzel’s vocals are a little strained, but then again, he did turn 45 last week — I can excuse the high-register misfires. And George W. Bush isn’t mentioned even once, which I’d feared from Eitzel’s recent statements that the new AMC record would be “political.” All in all, it makes me think the new album, whenever it comes out, might be a return of the ol’ AMC magic. Or at least it might not be the earth-shaking disappointment you’d expect from a former favorite band reforming after a decade.

In other AMC news, they’ll be playing two shows at SXSW next month. Unfortunately, I will have just driven back from Austin three days earlier and been through the traditional pre-SXSW concert gorge.

(Tons of bands headed for SXSW Music play Dallas along the way. In the three nights after I get back from SXSW Interactive, there’ll be Dallas shows by the Decemberists, Calexico, Broken Social Scene, Sonic Youth, Trans Am, John Vanderslice, and NERD. Seriously, it’s just not fair to make a man live through months of concert drought and then make him choose between Calexico and Broken Social Scene on the same night.)

And I no longer have a dependable place to stay in Austin. And there’s the whole wristband/access crap of SXSW Music to deal with. We’ll see if I make it down for AMC or not.

06 February 2004 | 3 comments

Low-res samples of DJ Danger Mouse’s upcoming The Grey Album — his matching of lyrics from Jay-Z’s Black Album with music from the Beatles’ white album. I particularly like the “What More Can I Say”/”While My Guitar Gently Weeps” combo.

06 February 2004 | 2 comments

I was kinda excited to see the new Bernardo Bertolucci “Hey, it’s the ’60s! What’s wrong with a little incest among the children of French poets” movie The Dreamers. (Just seeing the preview made me want to break out some old Hendrix for the first time in years.)

But then I read this review about its NC-17 rating:

This is one of those movies where the lovers show how uninhibited they are by eating the sleep out of each other’s eyes….

Um, eating the sleep out of each other’s eyes? Ewww. Triple ewwwwwwww.

06 February 2004 | 1 comment

Something you must know about me, according to Kevin Smokler: “It’s worth knowing that Mr. Crabwalk (aka Josh Benton) is the world’s greatest kickball player. You WANT to be on his team.”

(This is, of course, in reference to the annual kickball game at the start of SXSW.)

Proof of Kevin’s claim can be found in this rare photo, showing me sacrificing my body to avoid Jason’s attempted tag and score a key run. Notice Brad (correctly) calling me safe.

05 February 2004 | 2 comments

Polly wants an OED.

Woman in pink lingerie bolts from tomb, whips judge’s car.

Diamonds in the rough.

Where to get pancakes in Pyongyang. Why Zagat hasn’t jumped on this market yet is beyond me.

Spain needs better porn.

One gets the impression that Henry Earl enjoys the occasional alcoholic beverage. (Check that criminal history. Click around through all the photos, too.)

05 February 2004 | 1 comment

I know what you’re all thinking. “Josh,” you’re thinking, “when will I get to see you this year and thus make my 2004 complete?”

To assist your life planning, I present a sketchy plan of my travels for the upcoming year:

- March 12-16: SXSW in Austin.

- March 27: Wedding in Austin.

- April 15-17: Education Writers Association meeting in San Francisco.

- Sometime this spring: Seattle.

- Sometime this spring/early summer: The crabwalk.com Northern Tier Listening Tour 2004. Like its 2002 precursor (Boston/Cooperstown/Rochester/Toronto/Toledo), the tour will feature me driving a rental car across America’s northeast and visiting you, The Reader. Almost certain to be stops: New York, New Haven, Pittsburgh, Toledo. Could very well be stops, depending on timing etc.: Boston, Toronto, D.C., Illadelphia, Chicago.

- June 27: Half-marathon in Vancouver.

- Summer: Four weeks in Argentina or Mexico.

- August: Congres Mondial Acadien in Nova Scotia.

- Fall: A stretch in Mexico.

Along with the usual assortment of stints in south Louisiana and random work-related travels around Texas. Plan your lives accordingly.

04 February 2004 | 6 comments

Sorry for the radio silence. Kelly came to town for a visit Friday, and I’ve spent the last two days in San Antonio for a conference. But I’m back in Dallas and ready to rock you to your very core with bloggish goodness.

04 February 2004 | 1 comment