Huey Lewis and The News are not playing a free show on the roof of Whole Foods. Daft Punk are not playing a free show on the steps of the state capital building. The word spreads faster than a planet decimating virus, but i can assure you, as adamant as the weirdo getting you hyped for some classic jams by Mr. Lewis and his News may be, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He is just the latest peg in a long line of false stories, hopes, and dreams. If you go to Whole Foods, there will be no “Power of Love.” No “Hip to be Square.” No “Heart of Rock and Roll.” So just stay where you are and enjoy the show you chose to attend in the first place. Unless you’re a “Belieber.” Because that story about Justin Bieber showing up and performing at Bangers is true. Terribly, terribly true.
I will not judge people based solely on their appearances. I will not let a stupid haircut dictate how I feel about a stranger. I will not mock. I will not sneer. I will not shake my head or slap it with an open palm. This is my mantra. SXSW is officially underway.
And it has descended upon us again, the yearly carnival, debacle, fanfare, clusterfuck that is South by Southwest. It’s that two week period when Austin damn near consumes itself in commerce, excitement, food, drinks, and bitchiness. I’m all for it. Sure there are aspects of it all that drive me crazy…the influx of people everywhere, the traffic, the veritable police lineup of ridiculous looking characters, and the cold and flu disease-ridden aftermath that we all lovingly refer to as “South By AIDS.” But on the other hand, I take a week off from work, catch some cool free shows, drink some cold free beer, and generally take in the circus atmosphere like its some kind of cleanser. And every year it just gets bigger and bigger. It’s not all music and film anymore. There’s a tech side, an interactive side, an education side, and I can only imagine beer, food, and puppy dogs waiting in the wings for their own slice of the expo. So, there is literally something for everybody here.
Sunday. Seven revolutions round the sun for our insignificant little orb. Circling our inevitable infernal-murderer. The Song Poem – Aural encapsulation of a delicate, all pervasive balancing act, evident throughout all God’s creation. Like so many things, it’s indicative of the eternal juxtaposition; Black and white. Sun and moon. Good and Evil. Cobra and Mongoose. While the Earth adheres to strict physical laws, Outer Space on the other hand, is a vastness more mysterious and chaotic the further away we get from our lowly point of origin. The known solar system is orchestrated precariously by forces unknown in a delicate cosmic ballet. Did you know that Pluto could one day abandon its erratic orbit and go hurtling off into space?
Despite continued attempts by those Godless, whore-mongering, smut pedlars at HBO, to debase the genre with real actors and creators with integrity who refuse to hand over their baby to some committee of bastard hacks to cack-handedly lop off the head of the Golden Goose of a good idea, and smash its egg into a potentially endless series of seasons of 20-odd advertisement peppered pieces, there are but two stories in any Crime drama, and you’re going to shut your yap, sit there and listen while Ralph Lowe spoon-feeds you the skinny, capisce?
As with beaches everywhere, beware of possible hazards, including slippery rocks, crumbling cliffs, and sneaker waves (large waves that seemingly surge out of nowhere). Our clean clear waters are cold (52-54 degrees Fahrenheit) so wetsuits are essential for swimming, surfing, or diving. Keeping children (and dogs) out of the water during big surf days is just good commonsense.
“Be Swept Away by the Beauty Not By the Waves” – Mendocino Coast Water Safety Coalition