Monday Morning Commute: reunited and the blood’s gone cold.

reunited and the blood

They tryta tell ya not to worry.
“Don’t worry about it, everything will be fine.”

They tryta tell ya that it’s not really fuckin’ weird.
“What you’re feeling, right now, it’s perfectly normal.”

They tryta tell ya that what — or, I guess, who – you’re seein’ is familiar.
“Look! There he is! He’s opened his eyes! See, he’s waving to you! Wave back!”

But I’ll be goddamned if I ain’t never seen nothin’ less familiar.
“Go ahead – go into the room and give him a hug!”

And I’ll be good goddamned if there ain’t nothin’ I’d ever wanted to destroy more.
“Here, let me bring you in! I can only imagine what waiting for The Reuniting has felt like.”

Unfortunately, turns out that paperworkin’ and payin’ and waitin’ all felt like shit, and that shit felt like gold compared to this shit.

Unfortunately, turns out that bein’ Reunited with your once-dead son don’t feel so good as they tryta tell ya.

Unfortunately, turns out that seein’ your once-dead son openin’ his eyes and wavin’ at ya don’t feel so good when ya could only afford to upload his mind into a bootleg clone.

They tryta tell ya not to worry.


Come one, come all, step right up, folks: this is the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE!

First, I spit prose-nonsense at you (that’s the stuff at the top). Then, I try to apologize for it by sharing a list of pop culture detritus I’ll be chewing on all week (that’s the stuff you’ll see after the jump). Finally, you hit up the comments and tell us what you’ll be entertainment-consuming this week.

Right this way, hombres!

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Friday Brew Review: Agave Wheat

Agave Wheat

I love Colorado.

Now, I’ve never been to the state. But even from my perch aboard Spaceship OL, it ain’t hard to discern that Colorado is a multifaceted wonder. After all, it was the thirty-eighth entry into the Union that bore the mighty Tim Allen, creator of America’s greatest sitcom about a tool-man. Lest we not forget that Colorado gave refuge to a Boston hero and allowed him to become a champion. And then, of course, there’s always South Park.

I also love Mexico.

Again, I ain’t never been to Mexico, neither. But there’s plenty to appreciate about the nation. First of all, the Mexican flag features an eagle tearin’ a snake to shreds. Epic! Brutal! Awesome! There’s also the fact that Mexico is responsible for the taco. The goddamn taco! If there was ever a perfect food, it could very well be the taco! And if this didn’t win you over, the Land of the Shaking Earth was also the site of one of humanity’s greatest triumphs.

And now that I’ve discovered Agave Wheat, I can express my love for both Colorado and Mexico by drinking!

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Cliff Burton Would Have Turned 50 Today. Throw The Horns Up.

Today, Cliff Burton would have turned a solid half-century. Rest in Peace, sweet prince of the thrashing old school.

Let’s celebrate with his jams.

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Face of a Franchise: Thrash Pioneers

[face of a franchise presents two individuals that’ve fulfilled the same role. your task — choose the better of the two and defend your choice in the rancor pit that is the comments section]

Influenced by the NWOBHM, American metalheads of the early 1980s began shredding faster and partying harder. With art and life aping one another, the result was a new breed of metal called thrash. Yes, it’s a terrifying thought but thrash metal has been around for three decades. And nearly just as old as the music itself is the debate about who is most responsible for its inception.

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The Big Four Are Evil

Big Four

As much as I want to hate this, I can’t help but smile. Maybe my inner-cynic is finally moving somewhere else (don’t hold your breath).

Members of the Big Four (Anthrax, Megadeth, Metallica, Slayer) played Am I Evil last night, providing a moment that metal fans never thought possible.

Battlestar, Old School Metallica and Kevin Smith, Prolapses