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Well, you get the grave misfortune of reading my blather this week, and some probably unusual choices in the newsletter, since some of the progressive metal I listened to this week was so superior I couldn't help but choose it. And since I'm really indecisive, and because there was some other very good metal posted this last week that I also fell in love with, I'll give you a runner up, and a recommendation that you give at least a cursory listen to most of the other bands I listened to this week. I'm having a hard time ranking my favorites, but, here goes:

1) Dark Empire is progressive, powered, thrashy awesomeness! I really enjoyed the vocals-- they're deep and sometimes harsh, but very melodic. The vocalist holds a very good and very true tune without faltering at all. The guitar is the core of this music-- fast and melodic at times, technical and beautiful. The solos are masterfully done and have an epic feel and sweep about them. The keyboards are subtle but melodic and epic, and are placed perfectly in the music, which adds to their power. I really love the energy in the music-- it screams fantasy and epic battles. And it's thrashy and dark enough to suit even fans of heavier, darker and harsher metal. I highly, highly recommend this to everyone. I think even the tr00est kvltest of teh black mehtul l33ts would enjoy this if they'd cast their kvltness aside for a moment. More info here: http://www.last.fm/group/Unknown+Metal/forum/81236/_/477985

2) Acid Witch makes some fun, dark, deep and harsh psychedelic death-doom. I enjoyed everything about this band, from the growly, deep and harsh vocals, to the heavy, ponderous drumming, to the heavy, harsh, buzzing guitars that still managed to evoke deep hallucinogenic visions in me. I almost instantly fell in love with this band from the second track I listened to, "Into the Cave." The music is evil and full of Halloween trippiness. The keyboards are epic and overwhelming at just the perfect moments. Really, this is utterly awesome, and I'd recommend everyone listen to it, even those who don't like death metal (like me) or doom metal haters. I guarantee you, this will win you over with its utter greatness! More info here: http://www.last.fm/group/Unknown+Metal/forum/81236/_/476017

3) Seventh Wonder - I had a hard time putting this wonderful progressive metal band in the third spot, but decisions are like that ;-) The keyboards are utter magnificence-- epic, beautiful, melodic, and they enhance the very technical guitar and beautiful and intricate drumming and basswork perfectly. I'm a keyboard ho, I think, so from the first song on Mercy Falls, I was hooked and in love. The album flows not just conceptually, but almost as an opera. Truly, this album was assembled by a musical master-- I love the flow from song to song. The vocals are mid to high pitched, but so, so, so beautiful, and the vocalist has marvelous range. I highly recommend this to any prog or power metal fans-- it's masterful, it's beautiful, and it will make you smile with all of the technical and epic greatness the music breathes. More info here: http://www.last.fm/group/Unknown+Metal/forum/81236/_/475800

Runner up, because this band deserves a mention:

Bardfaust -- If you like epic black metal like Elffor or Summoning, and raw black metal like Xibalba, you'll enjoy this band. I loved the band's music, and the lack of anything beyond a single demo is a tragedy. More info: http://www.last.fm/group/Unknown+Metal/forum/81236/_/477294

Also listened to:

Autem - recommended (playful, fun music with a chunky progressive awesomeness about it.

Upon Ruins - recommended (pretty folky doom)

Farzad Golpayegani - recommended (really rockin' progressive metal with a Middle Eastern influence)

Devil Doll - wasn't my thing, but others might like it for its twisted and strange feel.

I wasn't even planning on writing anything, but after getting my latest "Voter Guide" political spam mail in the mailbox, I'm hopping fucking mad! Unfortunately, California has this stupid tradition of allowing "the people" to draft stupid laws and get enough signatures to put them on the next state election ballot. It's known as the "popular initiative." Perhaps in the days when the old-style Progressives were in power in the early 20th century, such an idea had merit, but in the last several decades the whole process has become hijacked and dominated by corporations and special interests who can raise enough funding to get their revenue grabs on the ballot, while the people are left with voting on a bunch of staggeringly stupid ideas that make it to the ballot each year.

This year has been full of stinkers. Like the T. Boone Pickens initiative that ostensibly supports solar energy, but really diverts tons of money to his company and essentially kills the solar industry in California. Or the huge revenue grab by law enforcement that limits the ability of legislators to make proper decisions when trying to balance an increasingly unwieldy budget when California is in a huge financial crisis. But the absolute worst of the huge array of staggeringly ridiculous ideas has to be our Proposition 8-- the "Protect Marriage" proposal, that would enshrine discrimination against gays into the California constitution.

A little quick history: California passed a ridiculous "Save Marriage" act a few years ago through another one of our propositions that prevented gays from marrying in response to the Massachusetts court decision that allowed it for the first time somewhere in the United States. Just recently, California's courts struck down that law as violating our state constitution.

Righty-ho, so everything's ok in the People's Republic of California at last, right? Finally, someone has taken a stand against the final bit of discrimination gays face, right? Not so fast, sucker! Enter Proposition 8.

Ok, I can understand that the bigots are trying to out-think their non-homophobic counterparts. Brilliant-- just brilliant-- cut off equality at the source. What kills me is the language they're trying to use to cover their bigotry. Last time, it was "Save Marriage," as if marriage was in danger by expanding it to all segments of the population. Because if gays get married, then you, scarce heterosexual couples, are going to have to fight for your survival! You will then be "less married," and the weakness of your union will become apparent as you have to battle the countless hordes of teh gays trying to move in on you and your honey! As if the divorce rate wasn't already 50%, thanks to flighty heterosexuals... now teh gays will inflate the stats all the more!

This time, it's "Protect Marriage." That's right, "protect marriage." From what, exactly? If teh gays can get married, obviously my own marriage to my husband is in imminent danger from all teh male gays trying to marry him instead, and that endless crowd of lesbians moving in to separate me from my honey so they can have me as their bride instead. It's just glaringly obvious, isn't it?

I've read the campaign literature from the other side, and I've read some opinions from the other side of this issue, and none has provided me with the slightest clue about how expanding the definition of marriage makes me any more or any less married than I already am. Yep, I stay married whether gays can marry or not. And the world doesn't come to an end, either. And my tax and social benefits remain exactly the same too, even if they are extended to a larger pool of people. So, what is being "protected," exactly? What's being "saved?" If anything, as a bunch of heterosexuals seem to enjoy being "serially" married, moving from one partner to the next, in an endless garbage-string of ex-spouses, and making the stats on successful marriages look almost gloomily terrible to those of us who dared to get married the first time (me, five years ago, and after seeing the stats, I was a bit terrified, I'll admit), having more marriages from more stable couples can only improve the divorce-rate data. So, what are we "saving," again?

The only thing that's being saved is the ability to discriminate against another. Apparently, that's the one thing that people are clinging to as it becomes increasingly unacceptable to discriminate on race or gender. So, "protect" away, bigots. Eventually, society will move beyond this last bastion of discrimination as it has begun to move beyond others.

I've listened to the abbreviated version of Betray-Ed's When Nostalgia Embraces My Soul..., the six-song version that graces last.fm, and I was taken far adrift into ancient lands for several too-short moments. Now, I've had the opportunity to listen to the full work, and I enjoyed it quite a lot, though the contrasts that were found within it sometimes surprised me. That surprise threw me off a bit, at times, and so, as I recorded my impressions as each song played below, you might see a bit more dismay at some of the abrupt changes than I actually feel now that I've listened to the album in its entirety. Memories, when they take you, don't always take you in exactly the direction that you might wish they would, and this album reflects that reality perfectly. Conceptually, I can feel the randomness of memory, and of nostalgia, for the mind is not always under our control when we take a journey through our past.

Intro - Enter in another dimension: Slow strains flow gently over my ear and a melodic guitar soothes my buzzing mind. I’m awash in ideas, none that have anything to with the distant lands and ancient melodies called forth by the gentle droning synth and the sweet acoustic notes.

Thou Shall Go On: And then the guitar continues, with a soft, almost medieval feel, and something I could swear was piano, soft and gentle, reminding me of days when elves and men frolicked in fields of daffodils and lilies, dancing under a sky deepening to dusk. It’s evocative, gentle, and with only the faintest hints at sorrow at a mythic past’s passing. The dance is gentle, like the wind, and I wish that I could be there instead of pondering strange trapped spaceships and rendering plants. I can almost feel the wind in my hair as I run through gently scented fields, in clean untainted air. And then, there’s almost a hint of aggression as the track comes to a quiet close, and the clack of the keys brings me back to this world.

Our Dark Poetry: It’s strange the turn this album takes. Where once we drifted in the wind and sailed into forgotten lands of yore, now there’s raw and somewhat angry black metal. The harsh vocals are a bit amateurish, and the guitar is spare. Production isn’t the greatest either, but there is a catchiness about the riffs, and a strange compelling feel. I’m really not a fan of the vocals, though they fit this piece better than some of Betray-Ed’s other work. I think the deeper harsh vocals suit this track better than they do in a couple of the tracks on a couple of tracks in “Haunting Memories.” I think it’s just because there’s not the conflict between harshness and beauty. The vocals just seem to fit here better, though I wonder about the placement of this track after the two exceptionally beautiful and floaty tracks that precede it.

As the Sun Sets: Ah, seagulls, and ocean. Two of my favorite sounds, and the gentle guitar reminds me of the call of the sea. There’s something about the rushing of water that soothes me in ways that I can’t even begin to express. This track is all water, water splashing on the coast, washing over tawny sands at dusk, when the play of salmon and orange and red blends purple as the sky deepens. I want to be there where this music dances as the waves crash, where the seagulls cry, and where the water pulls at my soul. We are born of water, and this gentle refrain reminds me of the deep bond we all share. The sun sets slowly and the gentle clouds on the horizon fade to deep blues, and then vanish as the sky fades to blackness. But the change, though it begins with dramatic hues, is gradual and leads the mind to a slow and gentle vision of peace. I think this track is my favorite—light melodies and gentle strums that make all my skittishness vanish with the fading of the waves.

Reflections: This track begins with an almost military precision, and the faintest hint of industrial influence. The keyboard and the drumbeats are so precise that you could probably set your clock to them. It’s a strange progression to go from gentle drifting on waves to the relentless tick of a clock. But reflecting upon something requires that kind of mental discipline, I think—the willingness to go back through years upon years of metronomic ticking just to find the memory you’re looking for, and to keep yourself from being distracted by the strange associations your mind makes between all of your memories. This track is that discipline—the relentless drilling and subjecting the tick of time and your mind to your will. Memories aren’t always sweet or nostalgic, and this track, I think, expresses that clearly. There’s a hint of anger about this track, as if the memories dredged up aren’t all pleasant. The track is subtly relentless as memory can be, though it still manages not to destroy the pleasant drifting induced by “As the Sun Sets.”

Lands of Tomorrow: The more strident feel continues with “Lands of Tomorrow,” with very precise strumming. The vocals seem to be a bit off in a way, and don’t quite carry the confident guitar rhythm, though they have potential. The key is off just a hint, though you can hear how the melody should sound. Traces of the much more mature clean vocals of “Haunting Memories” and “The Modern End” are there, though there’s quite a bit of variance in the tune. Still, the tune is quite lovely, and I think if it were to be re-recorded with Francois’ more mature voice now, the song would probably be one of my favorite Betray-Ed tracks. But the sorrow and wistfulness definitely comes through clearly, despite the vocal shortcomings. I really love the wistful last few notes and lyrics. Very pretty!

Drums of Doom: There’s not a lot of drumming I can hear as the song opens—in fact the drums faded quickly to be overtaken by electric guitar and faint ambient keyboards. There’s a hint of percussiveness in the tracks, as if the guitar and the keyboard have taken over the soul of the drumming. It’s an interesting effect, but it seems to amble a bit away from the nostalgia that Lands of Tomorrow brought about, and the drifting of the introductory two tracks. The track is quite edgy and makes me a bit jumpy. Maybe that’s what the doom is: the death of a peaceful mood. Technically, it’s well-composed, but it strikes me as being too long, perhaps. A bit more variation in the flow of the track would give it the same fluidity that a lot of other tracks on this album share.

Echoes of Tragedy: It’s good that the guitar has calmed some, since I’m still a bit edgy from “Drums of Doom.” The acoustic melody is welcome, and quite lovely. It’s the slow dance of waves upon a lake when a breeze is blowing oh-so-gently. And the vocals—they’re the sweet kiss of a spring wind on your cheek. The vocals here are much more in tune, and much more mature. I’m not hearing any of the wavering or the missing of notes that seemed to plague “Lands of Tomorrow.” This is a gentle dance of distant memory in my mind, a gentle quiet moment that swirls away just out of reach. Though the track is now half over, my mind is still buzzing from “Drums of Doom.” It’s strange to me how this album flows from calm to aggressive and back again. The synth is especially gentle and seems almost to be gentle droplets of rain on a smooth pond, falling quietly, but spreading ever outward in circles. The end of the track is a bit abrupt for me, however.

Ultimate Fight: The gentle drifting is interrupted by a slightly deeper guitar riff that provides just the right edge of darkness to nostalgia. And then it takes over! The synth gives a noble battle, but the electricity has seized control. A new riff battles with the first, nearly covering the synth, but it keeps pace with the synth as the darker riff tries to maintain its grasp against the new riff’s technical superiority. It’s a musical cage match! Will the bluesy riff win against the rhythmic darker guitar? Or will it be lost, and the quiet synth with it? I’m cheering the bluesy riff—it must win, or else the world will be submerged! Go, riff, go! It warbles, it cheers, it rages, and then it dies with the synth. Poor bluesy guitar! The darkness wins after all.

Forget Me Not: And then the calmness wins again, with gentle acoustic guitar and subtle vocals. There’s a hint of the vocals being a bit off key, but the overall feel is lovely. The gentle wash of the song reminds me of the ocean as the tide comes in, slowly, relentlessly, and almost silently. As the vocals get louder, the wavering begins a bit. I think this is another track that if the vocals were re-recorded now, would be another favorite. The melodies are really lovely, and they’re so gentle in the way they take over your heart. Actually, I’ve noticed that the slightly off-kilter vocals lend this track a charming humanity that a lot of music lacks, and a very personal feel.

Nightfall: Though this track begins with a very clear electric riff, it seems to fade almost to nothing against the rising synth. The both coexist in a strange contrasting harmony—gentle synth strains, and the harsh, yet muted guitar. This track is cold, so cold, though it’s not completely dark. The chill in the air takes over as the sky fades from deep blue to pure black. It’s a quick change, and then it’s over. Then silence, and then the gentle choir of the stars reminds you that all is well, even in the depths of night.

Disclaimer: This is not a journal that's intended to parody anyone. This journal is not against piracy, nor is it against the corporate record labels. In fact, I have to give them props for at least trying to have adequate distribution. There is nothing sarcastic about the title at all-- this is my own long-delayed expression of frustration at the number of deadbeat artists out there who take your money and then take six years to send you their products. That is, if they bother to do so at all.

I hate the RIAA. I mean, I utterly loathe it. I hate their ethos, I despise their lack of innovation, and I abhor a good portion of the corporate "music" schlock like Brittney Spears that they seem to insist on foisting on the long-suffering public. And a lot of excellent music is available out of their channels-- in fact, just about everything I listen to now comes from independent artists who either self-release, or release through independent labels. I prefer to have my money go to artists like these rather than to the greedy bastards at Warner, Sony (die, Sony, die!), EMI, and since I'm an utter sucker for CDs, you'd think I'd be their ideal market as well.

I do a lot of ordering through online mail order businesses, and buy a lot of albums from independent labels at a couple of our local independent record chains, and given a choice, these are my preferred ways of obtaining music mostly because of a chain of truly unfortunate circumstances I've had in trying to directly give my money to artists. I don't ask much, really. I give you my money, and I expect to receive the product I've purchased within three weeks if I'm ordering domestically, or within perhaps four if I'm ordering internationally, though I'll allow more if you communicate with me. Shipping rates aren't particularly expensive within the U.S. to send an item within a week from the opposite coast.

I have to give shout-outs to the best transactions I've had before I start in on the real ranting, because, really, it's not fair to the excellent and responsible bands to be lumped in with the vast array of deadbeats and borderline deadbeats out there. The Bombs Of Enduring Freedom is the speed champion. I ordered the CD and had it in three days shipped all the way from the U.K.! Another huge shoutout to Jennifer Gratz who runs the Grayceon band store-- I received the CDs I ordered two days after I placed the order. Thayer Cabin had my CD to me within ten days. In Gowan Ring's online store had my CD to me within a similar time frame.

And that's it for the good and speedy transactions, alas.

My typical band-direct purchase goes something like this:

1) Look everywhere to make sure an online mailorder I've dealt with carries the item.

2) Give a resigned sigh and enter my PayPal information.

3) Never hear a peep from the musician, no order confirmation, nothing.

4) Wait, wait, wait, wait. This stage lasts about four weeks.

5) At the end of the fourth week, get supremely annoyed, and fire off a painfully polite, "Where's my stuff? Do you think it might have gotten lost in the mail?" email.

6) Wait a week for a response. Usually the CD materializes in my mailbox in that time, mysteriously postmarked for the day after my email was sent and shipped Priority.

Ahah! So I do get most of the CDs I order direct. True. But...

...enter the true deadbeats. I've had two. And they're agonizing to deal with. I'm half-tempted to name them, but if you've been around the Unknown Metal group at all, you can probably find one ranted about at length ;-)

The first is a half-local folk metal group, and half in the same state I live in. Now, you would think that would mean a speedy and quick transaction, right? I give them my money for the CD plus shipping charges, and all they have to do is put the CD in a little envelope and mail it to me. I'd have it in two days. Hah! This band actually gave me my first insight into how claim procedures at PayPal work. See, after a month, I was getting a little irritated, as I always do, since at least one member lives twenty minutes away from me, so I sent off an email to check the shipping status.

Nothing. Nothing for two weeks. I filed my first "inquiry" with PayPal, in which the seller is supposed to reply. I waited a week or two, and the band completely ignored PayPal. No reply to PayPal's official inquiry. I gritted my teeth and waited more. Then I filed an official claim. Then I had to wait another ten days for PayPal to make a determination. In that time, they contact the seller again, and the response, or lack thereof. And there was none. So, finally, twelve business days later, I got my money back.

In that time, I discovered on the marvelous webz, a statement from one of the band members, "Glad you guys like it, and I apologize for taking so long to ship...it sucks being so broke you can't afford postage." Charge for farking shipping, then, deadbeats!

And my next band hasn't quite reached the PayPal stages yet, though I ordered a pair of CDs from them on June 24. So for four whole typical weeks, nuttin'. So I sent off an email asking how it was shipped and got, "Oh crap! I missed your order! I'll ship it soon. I'm sorry, I haven't been feeling well." Well, ok, I'm not one to harass the sick. Plus there was sufficient enough panic in the email ("Reply back as soon as you get this!") to mollify me somewhat and engage my compassion. I hate that sympathetic reaction in me, really, because...

I waited by the mailbox for more weeks. Nuttin' nada... Now, sometimes, shipping something "media mail" can take a long time, so I thought I'd check again. I sent a, "When and how did you ship the CDs? Could they have gotten lost?"

A week went by with no reply. But, I thought, since I sent the email mid-week, and it's prime vacation season right now, that maybe the guy took a break. Finally, last night, I got a reply. "I have a package ready for you. I'll be shipping it tomorrow! How did you hear about us?"

WTF??? I ordered on June 24, and it's finally shipping on August 11? I've been too enraged to reply. I mean, hopping fucking mad! So mad that if one of the band members appeared in front of me, I'd have to be put in handcuffs to avoid decking him (her?) in the chops! And I'm still growling. RRRRRR!

Really, all I ask is you give me the stuff I bought. Within a month, especially if you're in the same country I'm in. If you can't afford to ship the item, charge me for shipping. I like your music. I'll pay shipping. I'll even pay more shipping so that you can afford to send it to me first class or priority. I'll like your music even more when I have a CD with me that I can caress, fondle, and play on the stereo and on my computer. And, you know what? If you give me the stuff I bought, I'll even give you more of my money when your new CD comes out, and I'll be happy as a clam doing it, too.

And if you, band, hate shipping things direct so much, try getting your stuff carried by one of my favorite mailorders, like CD Baby, a place I browse constantly for new artists. They ship staggeringly quickly, are very communicative, and are a real pleasure to deal with. You might even find new fans by having your stuff listed there!

There's nothing like a hot cup of jahe wangi, a sweet ginger-based punch to the throat, a foil package of crystals that dissolve into pure heaven, an Indonesian delicacy that is the calmer cousin of serbat wangi that I've only been able to find in one tiny market in Oakland's Chinatown. And there's nothing like jahe wangi on a surprisingly chilly night when you're wrapped in the softest, most nubbly, yet hideously ugly blue Southwest-patterned fleece throw upon a beige ultrasuede couch, even under the otherwise unromantic slightly yellow fluorescent glow of an unusual torchiere that only your husband could have found in his bachelor days. And all that's missing from this strangely cozy, yet completely imperfect and vaguely romantic scenario is music. And...

So, I'm bundled in a jacket, with my feet upon our el-cheapo and boring, but yet, strangely functional and oddly attractive coffee table, faintly wincing as its sharp edges dig into my calves before I adjust myself just right. And then I plug into my little blue Zen Nano Plus that will be upgraded very soon, and let the Etymotics do their work. Specteral Demonstrations of My Deathly Dissolution begins, the gentle strains of the most softly strummed guitar mix with the sweetened bite of ginger, and Windows Exchange Server 2003 installation instructions flow over me like a river. Something doesn't fit right in this picture, does it? And yet it does. Strange that.

I'm not sure what it is about this album, especially, compared to A Bleeding Star's other work, which demands attention, which demands feeling, which demands inspiration, which demands that you tell the story inside you. I did attempt to pair a chapter on DNS (Domain Name Servers) last night with From the Ashes of My Ghostly Beloved..., and it was almost the same kind of cognitive dissonance that I had on my first listen after a wonderful, happy day celebrating another year of my husband's existence on this planet. Does this mean DNS makes me happy? Or perhaps, Exchange Server 2003 is as hallucinogenic as absinthe...? But, really, I think the difference lies in what actions the music and the musician wish you to take. I'm not sure I've been able to adequately satisfy the requests that have been made of me, and I've never encountered music that demanded so much of me. In a way, this is such a refreshing thing and deeply joyous in its own way.

Somewhere in this rambling mass of nonsense, a story awaits a telling. What that story is, I don't know. But perhaps I'll have to write it...

I've been having really good luck with spur-of-the-moment purchases lately. From the pure progressive excellence that is Minas Tirith to the dark and haunting beauty that is Thayer Cabin, I've been happy as a clam.

I'm trying to figure out how best to express the intriguing music that is Thayer Cabin. This is dark, thrumming acoustic folk at its finest. Rhythms within each song remind me loosely of Agalloch, but the music has much more of a dynamic and frenetic energy about it, rather than Agalloch's more mournful tone.

Several songs are dark and give me something of an uneasy feeling, almost as if I were lost without a compass in a dark winter wood without hope of rescue. Last Stand, and Cabin 55, especially, give me that same lost feeling in the pit of my stomach, even as I can see the deep beauty of such lost forests all about me. I can feel the wolves hunting, ready to pounce.

And yet, other songs, such as The Gathering, Big Bear Tavern, and Drink Up M, are full of rambunctious joy and the pleasure of good company in a small woodland tavern on a cold winter night. The music leaps like a jig and makes me want to dance. Woods are not always dark and frightening places if you have a few pints and some good friends.

This is gorgeous stuff, and well worth taking a chance on a new, independent artist and small record label.

You can find more information on Thayer Cabin here.

I like to think I'm even-tempered. Really I do. I'm probably wrong, but, really, that's another story. But there's nothing that sets me off more [blatant lie] than unsolicited advertising in places where you're captive or you're going to unload a significant part of your wallet. I'm not sure how bad the creeping evil of advertising is in other countries, but here, it really is out of control. Entrepreneur Magazine (warning, don't click randomly on the page-- stealth ads lurk) claims that urban Americans are now exposed, on average, to between three and five thousand ads a day. I avoid most of the ads by not watching TV and by using Firefox with Adblock Plus.

But you can't avoid them all, alas. I came across a particularly heinous example of captive advertising today when my husband and I filled up the more gas guzzling vehicle today. Shell stations around here have these utterly horrid screens above the pumps that spew stupid ads, complete with audio, at you while you pump your gas! And they're not just ads for services that the gas station actually provides. No reminders to check your oil or your hoses or anything that might be remotely useful if you're not a car expert. Nope, they spew stupid prime time TV ads at you, ads talking about how much better their gasoline is than everyone else's, and ads for the Ellen De Generes show. Argh! The sound is loud enough to wake the dead, so you can't tune the brain cell-killing nastiness out! Apparently I'm not alone. I vowed I'd never go to another Shell station again after that stupidity.

Our local Albertson's used to have these ridiculous plasma TV screens they suspended over the meat and produce sections that blared ads while you tried to focus on your grocery shopping. And then when you'd get to the checkout line, each register would be equipped with another of the stupid screens trying to inflict even more ad idiocy on you. Fortunately, when they became Lucky, most of the screens at my local market were turned off, but some stores still have them going.

I've been in a number of elevators that had similar small screens showing local advertising. And public bathrooms with ads on the back of the stall doors. Then there's the lovely train station downtown San Francisco that changes theme approximately once a month as Apple Computer or Blue Shield sees fit-- every post and pillar, every wall, and even the floor are decked out with wall to wall advertising for a particular model of iPod, health plan, computer, whatever. You can't miss the ads, because they litter every single inch and/or centimeter of the station.

I've heard so many grand tales and conspiracy theories about the ruling elites and how they're trying to dumb us down into nothing more than walking blobs of protoplasm that hand money to each and everyone that demands it. After experiencing the mental bludgeoning of the stupidity at the gas pump today, I can almost half believe even the most outlandish of those conspiracy theories. I felt my IQ drop by a good 50 points. Because the advertisers are slowly closing in on our ever-shrinking mental quiet spaces, trying to keep us from engaging our brains in any meaningful fashion.

The thing is, after seeing the idiocy that comes out of these ad gurus' minds, I can hardly believe that they're smart enough to devise such a grand conspiracy, let alone work with each other to bring about the entrenchment of a superior, richer ruling class. No, these advertisers and manipulators of the media are exposed to the same bullshit that we are, and probably in similar quantities. Their own creative mental space is shrinking just as much, and the quality of their output has devolved as much as their thinking has. All they know how to do is to further spread a formula that will extract dollars from us poor schmucks.

I think they're every bit as stupid as we are. Our politicians are every bit the sheeple we are, and they aren't smart enough to bring about any kind of massive conspiracy. Especially not Republican front-runner John McCain. No, the idiots in power are as stupid, if not stupider, than we are.

And there lies the problem-- advertising makes the vast majority of us stupider and poorer the more we're exposed to it. Dammit, I want my thinking spaces back!

I can't remember how I first came across Dave Kilju's work on CD Baby. Maybe it was the magical $5.00 sale, or maybe it was one of those weird and strangely fruitful "recommended" searches. But Dave Kulju makes some seriously wonderful instrumental progressive rock, vaguely reminiscent of Rush, but with his own flair. His solo album is called abstract expression, and it lives up to its title in every way.

The album is a pleasant but evocative listen that lets you drift away into your mind and lets your imagination run wild. His guitar work is impressive, as are the keyboards. Only one track seems to lack the harmony and fluidity of the rest of the album: the longest track, Somnium, that clocks in at over 15 minutes. The transitions are quite rough and abrupt in some spots, and yanked me out of my reverie. But this only happens occasionally during the track, and isn't enough to mar the album.

Unfortunately, lastfm doesn't seem to have any tracks here to listen to, but a few tracks are available for free download on Dave's website. I highly recommend this new artist's work-- it's some surprisingly great stuff!