What kind of a bizzaro world have I fallen into where Michael Jackson is the moderate voice of reason in the music industry.

For those of you too lazy to click that link, here's a choice quote:

"I am speechless about the idea of putting music fans in jail for downloading music. It is wrong to download, but the answer cannot be jail," Jackson said in a statement released Monday.

Jackson goes on to make some very salient points that most music executives seem to be completely ignorant of, viz. the solution to the 'problem' fileshareing is not litigation, which is a greed-driven disrespect of the very music fans who pad the wallets of artists and executives alike. Don't bite the hand that feeds you, and in the entertainment industry, the hand that feeds you is the fans.

Now let's talk about media bias. While Michael Jackson is not the figure he once was, a statement like this should make more news than this; as it is, you couldn't even find this write up on CNN without doing some text-based searching. Meanwhile, this is an issue which directly affects 60 million consumers, and all you ever hear from the media is "piracy" and "theft"-- neither one of which is an applicable term for 'copyright violation.' Not that you'll ever hear that point of view from any news source that is owned by a media company. In a related bizzaro note, pops to the House for overwhelmingly saying "dude, what are you smoking" to the FCC's laize-faire consolidation rules. Let's see if it takes.

I kid you not; some Collegiate Republican just compared the Ultimate Warrior to ARISTOTLE! BWAH HAH HAH! I'm watching CSPAN2 tonight instead of RAW.

Warrior just said, "It would be a great disrespect to me if you didn't take it from me the way I'm giving it to you." Additionally, Warrior is from Indiana and has a daughter named, I shit you not, Indiana Warrior.

Here's your list of friends in the order they died.

I just saw Battle Royale, a film which, according to IMDB, is banned in the USA due to "teenage gang wars."

Battle Royale, for those of you too lazy to click those links, is a movie set in the near future in Japan. In an effort to control the youth population, the government occassionally (and randomly) abducts entire high school classes and sets them loose on an island full of weapons with orders to kill and kill and kill until only one survives. I'm not sure how this is supposed to quell social unrest, but it doesn't matter: Battle Royale is so gloriously violent, it could only have come out of Japan.

Actually, it does remind me a bit of Mean Guns, a poorly-acted low budget American film made three years prior to Battle Royal. In that kill-fest various near-do-wells were set loose in a prison that was cached with weapons and told to kill one another until one one remained. When I saw Mean Guns late night on HBO one night, I remember thinking, "Man that movie was pretty poorly made, but I'll be damned if there wasn't potential in there for something more."

Battle Royale capatalizes on that potential, and rocks the house. And while 41 may seem like a low body-count for a 114 minute movie, each killing is made with brilliant and unique style. But all the virtuoso violence would be for nought if you didn't have a sense of who each of the 42 students were and what they were feeling. Battle Royale provides as much, all served up savagely, unexpectedly, and as bombastic as a hand grenade stuffed inside a severed head and thrown through a window.

Boom, baby.

If you are like me, you like getting trashed. And, if you are like me, you are also unemployed and thus on a very limited budget. As such I present you with the following vital information: Bum Wines!

Oh boy. So now, not only did I procure Evanescence tickets for Chicago, but now it looks like I'll be going to their just-announced Indianapolis show on Aug. 17, a mere five days after the Chi-town gig. Can I do it, or will I have to take a beater on Chi-town?

To make matters worse (or better), Liz Phair has a show at the Vogue on 8/26, which will make August one stacked month for yours truly and yours truly's credit card bill. Come on job! Poppa needs a new pair of brakes.