The above is a quote form the wacky and irreverant comedy of Sarah Silverman, but I bring it up in reference to the new Musical film Rent.

My fellow NUVO-ite Lisa Gauthier gave it five stars and I had to go see it. Not to mention it's been praised as a broadway play in every publication from Vanity Fair to Newsweek. The problem with something that's ever as hyped as this is you really walk in expecting a lot. It's easy to be disappointed, and I was.

I personally would only give it about three stars. That's still a thumbs up, still a "it's a good movie. You should see it," but it was not even close to being the kind of movie I'd give five stars to.

The worst aspect to me was also the best aspect--the songs. Some were wonderful and moving (like the opening "5,250,600 minutes" jingle...) there were several other standouts including a tango and a great number by Rosario Dawson in a strip club.

But I'd say a good 50% of the songs were ham-handed and amaturish. Forced, juvenile-sounding rhyme schemes seemed to be a running theme. They reminded me a lot of the kind of songs that end up in shows that parody a musical ( think the musical numbers on South Park, or Family Guy). This is great when you trying to lampoon something, but this was supposed to be serious subject matter, right?

I also saw the film version of Hedwig and the Angry Inch this year. I think Hedwig should be the standard that Rent is held up against. If this was indeed a five-star movie, then I'd have to say Hedwig was probably an eight-star movie. There's really not a single bad song in Hedwig and I'd say only 50% of the Rent soundtrack lived up to the hype.

I can't fault the director. I thought it was shot beautifully and imaginavely. I also can't fault most of the performances I though almost every actor did a good job with the material. I guess the problem in my opinion was the material. Better songs could've really made this film more enjoyable.

I know i'm in the minority, as everyone that's ever seen the play thinks it's Godhead, but that's my two cents.

The problem with today's media is that you reap what you sow, and you get what you pay for.

Today's media has moved farther and farther away from being an immersive experience and into a new media paradigm. It's now all about removal and distance.

It's easy to blame Maxim or InTAKE for their three-page articles that are collections of photos and captions and only 300 words of text, but it's not really their fault.

It's our fast food culture. We want to go to a drive through instead of a sit-down restaurant.

We want the internet instead of a library.

We want reality TV.

Think about that. Reality television, the ultimate instrument of our "escape from reality" is now made from the whole cloth of other people's reality. Are our lives so dull that "Margarite the church lady" is our escape? Christ ! You want her? I'll bet there's a dozen of her at Indianapolis Baptist Temple right now.

I'm reminded of my boys playing XBOX one hot summer day last year. Alec said to Adam that he heard they were working on controllers for basketball games that you wore as gloves. The gloves were to have little bladders in them that inflated and deflated to give you the sensation of dribbling the ball.
I chimed in and said " You know, there's a 3D basketball interface available, where everything is viewable in 3D, you can feel the ball in your hand and even smell your opponent's sweat. It's not called virtual reality. It's called actual reality."

I don't want to pooh-pooh TV. It's not the monster in a box its detractors make it out to be. Neither are video games. I understand the need to blow off steam while killing zombies. Or watching a movie about killing zombies for that matter.

But are we such fucking dull couch potatoes that we'd rather play a sports video game than play an actual sport? The same with TV--I understand the attraction of some reality TV shows like Cops or news magazines, and maybe even Court TV footage. These are experiences we can't live or immerse ourselves in.

However, anybody can remodel a room, organize a closet, go on a date or watch live music. Yet American Idol is a ratings powerhouse while live music is in decline.

Maxim and InTAKE? Yeah, it's the same thing. We want our media shorter and quantified now. We're too lazy to commit to a sea of text in a full-sized article. We scan these rags (and others, like People or In Touch) and read the captions under the photos, and the "pull quotes." We are content with soundbytes when we could have the full thing.

We don't have time for reading. We don't have time for reality. We'd rather bitch about the cost of gas at $2.50 a gallon when we regularly swill Starbucks at $40 a gallon. $40 a gallon! I'm serious--do the math.

Our culture needs to wake up and get its priorities straight.

Turn off the NBA Jam, and pick up an actual basketball.

Turn off Trading Spaces and redecorate your own room.

Instead of picking up InTake or Maxim, grab the newest issue of Radar, Wired, or Time.

Shut off the American Idol and go out and enjoy the music and culture that is ours. One day, it might not be there.

OOKLA the MOK are a great little rock quartet that perform humorous songs relating to comics. The song I first discovered them through was this great send up of Aquaman. It makes terrific fun of the Justice League's most ridiculous hero.

Seriously, how much crime is there to fight 20,000 feet below sea level? And is the ability to talk to fish that impressive? Christ, Dr. Doolittle can talk to ALL animals and he never rated a spot on the Superfriends.

That song: Arthur Curry can be found here. Download it and give a listen as you read along to these lyrics:

Batman's got an attitude everybody takes him seriously
And Superman never made any money well try to tell that to DC
All the other members of the Justice League
Say I have useless super powers and make fun of me
But I know that there will come a day
When they're gonna stare in slack jawed wonder as they hear me say

Chorus

Music: I wanted to take a second to mourn the passing of The Patio. For 40 years, The Patio has stood as the benchmark of what made a local band successful.

If you had the juice to pack The Patio, then you were a member of an elite club that other locals could only aspire to join. Many a drunken musician would brag to me there after their set, “I played the same stage that Bowie played, man. Fuckin' Bowie!!” before raising their beer as if to toast the rock gods. Well, the rock gods lose one more altar next week when The Patio closes down after a long, long run. But it definitely goes out with a bang, not a whimper. This whole month has been chock full of shows that read like a who’s who of Indianapolis music. Indy’s poet of the lonesome highway; Otis Gibbs will close it out on the final show Novemeber 26th. I can think of no better person to be on the stage when the house lights go down for the last time.

Comics: In my ongoing effort to prove that comics are not just for kids, I’m going to evangelize to you about the comics that are far and away above the norm.

Maus can’t be called a secret pick. It’s been written up and lauded in the New Yorker, New York Times, Entertainment Weekly, Time, Newsweek and probably even our own Nuvo newsweekly at some point.

It’s the story of Vladek Spiegelman and his ordeal at Aushwitz, told through the eyes of his son Art Spiegelman (of Garbage Pail Kids fame) who draws the whole thing in a captivatingly ugly style. He renders all the Jews in it as mice and the Nazi’s as cats but it is by no means Disney-esque.

Most comics are drawn large and then reduced to 66% of the original size to clean up the line work. Maus was drawn on small 5x7 cardstock and then blown up to make the line work appear crude and and ragged. Some might say the metaphor of the ugliness of the Nazis perpetrated is a bit ham-handed, but I thought it was very well done.

BEER: I’m too broke even for Red Dog this week, so hit me up next week. If some kind soul buys me a beer, I’ll review that brew next time!

I love comics there's no doubt. I love what the heights that the medium can attain. but I recognize the depths in which it wallows as well. I will post the worst and the best here from time to time. Here is the first...

This is one of the stupidest comic covers in DC history! But It's priceless to me because of it's absurdity.
"It's important that I live the next 24 hours as a black woman!"-LOIS LANE

I’ve been called obsessive.  I prefer passionate, but the annoyed ex-girlfriends, and ex-wives seem to disagree with me on that point. 

I’m passionate/obsessive about a variety of things.  NUVO has offered this blog space to me, and I intend to fill it on a semi-regular basis with the subjects of my obsessions.  Some obsessions take the form of things I pedantically consume and collect.  Some take the form of problems in the world I anxiously obsess over.  Some are just small injustices or inequities that drive me crazy, and I feel need pointed out to the population at large--my “raging” against the machine, if you will.
 
Either way, they are the things that make up my day.  My obsessions differ from most peoples in that they aren’t just activities to fill time when my significant other isn’t around.   Nor are they harmless diversions for after work. No work is the means to an end.  It’s the necessary evil that I put up with so I can continue on my obsessive quest. I wish my quests involved big Holy Grail-sized items of weight and import but alas, they are a lot less earth-shattering.
 
BEER:  Oh, how I love thee! There is nothing quite so perfect on a hot afternoon as a cold, crisp brew.  I can appreciate the wonders of Newcastle or Tecate just as much as a Pabst or even a Red Dog.  I’m sure in this space I will write many a love letter to beer in all its forms.

Know this, and take it as Gospel: BEER SHOULD NEVER BE SERVED IN A CAN.  There are no exceptions to this rule, no matter what all the Guinness-swilling Brit-boys and Fosters fans tell you.   The taste of these high-end “canned beers” is just as fake and tinny as Madonna’s mock-Brit accent.
 
COMICS: I owned a comic store for 10 years. I was the four-time elected moderator of the old FIDO-NET comics group (old school computer geeks know what I mean), and a comic hobbyist everyday of my life since about 1970.  I’m evangelical in my love of what Harlan Ellison referred to as one of the five truly American art forms.

People in the arts look at works of literature with awe and wonder, and they wax eloquent at beautiful art in galleries.   Yet they tragically look down their noses at an art form that marries words and pictures.

I believe there is a comic out there for everyone. I believe that those unwilling to try them or unable to follow the format are either of small mind or bankrupt of imagination.
 
MUSIC: Few things have the ability to leave their mark on me as music.  I often can’t tell you the year something was happening in my life or what street I used to live in a certain year.  But I can tell you what was on the radio then.  I am acutely aware of exactly what point the soundtrack of my life was cued up to.  I know that summer I was managing a McDonald’s no song was bigger than the  “Everybody Have Fun Tonight” by Wang Chung, (though I liked “Kiss” by Prince infinitely better).
 
I know the year I was living with my roommate (who happened to be a suspected serial killer, but that’s another story) in Wooster, Ohio was same year I bought imports from The Jam, Stray Cats, and The Beat (no self-respecting music enthusiast would call them the English Beat!).  Music has been the backing track I count time by.  I consider my recent tenure at NUVO and the opportunity to draw comics about music to be my missionary work.  Spreading the holy gospel of comics, music and the occasional beer is the fulfillment of my drunken vision quest.