...because I've always got a comment

...don't you?

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Music: Justin Townes Earle

Let us pause a minute to sing the praises of Pandora.

This is not to say that there are not issues with the service. I think the "are you still listening" screen comes up too soon. I don't particularly like the way, if you have a mixed radio station with various and varied genres, oft-times those songs in a specific genre will play, and then it will move on to a different genre...I would rather all my genres were mixed up. It does do that sometimes, but more often than not, the "Valentine Brothers" preference reigns for 8 songs before moving on to the "Dead Men's Hollow" preference for 8 songs.

But these are smallish gripes...perhaps if my stations were a little more delineated that would help. Whatever, I like the service and enjoy it a great deal primarily because it will pop up new artists that I've never heard of. Justin Townes Earle is one of those artists.

Ok, not entirely fair to say I'd never heard of him...probably more accurate to say I never heard him. I enjoy his father's music a great deal but, in an effort to avoid the Julian Lennon debacle from so many years ago, as well as the Wallflowers incident, I tend to avoid the offspring of favored artists.

I did this with JTE to my own detriment.

Every time...EVERY time...a JTE song cycles through on Pandora I find myself enjoying it enough to go see who it is. I mean EVERY time. That hasn't happened in a while with any artist. I'm seldom that captured.

Thing is, I really put my finger on what it is that's grabbing my attention. Familiar enough to be comfortable, different enough to be intriguing? Something like that maybe. For instance, here's him doing a song that's not even his, and isn't all that far removed from the original, yet I like more than I ever liked it before:

But have a listen to just about anything on his album "Midnight at the Movies" to hear what he can do with his own stuff. There is no apparent pulling away from his father's legacy, but neither is he trying to own it...it's just there. It's good. It's better than good.

Have a listen at this one:

He deserves more than being known as "Steve Earle's kid"...and I think later he will be.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

TV: LOST...Or Deserted?

Oh yes. Many many theories going around on many many blogs all over the internets.

What's the deal with the church?

Why was BEN invited but not Michael?

There were LOTS of other people on that plane that lived on the island with them.

Questions answered, sure, but mainly questions raised from SEASON SIX!

Do you really expect us to believe that the story hasn't changed 10 times since the beginning?

So, now I'm going to give you my detailed analysis of the entire season with main focus on the final episode and with cross-referenced footnotes to all other linkages to previous seasons as well as other Eastern and Western philosopical classics with added pop culture references.


Just kidding.

Who has that kind of time? Ok, lots of folks in blogland seem to, but I don't and I'm wagering you don't have time to read all that either.

It's over. It wasn't going to satisfy everyone, but at least we got a decent ending.

An actual ENDING...not a petering out like X-Files. A clipped scene like Sopranos. I didn't want to see BSG end either, but it did, it gave us closure. So did this.

Would it have been fun to continue a bit longer? Sure. Probably. I was no fanatic...but I was a fan...these are good characters and they were fun to watch.

But it was time to go. And just in time.

And it's over.

Dead is dead.

Thursday, May 13, 2010

TV: CJ?! What the Hell?!?

Allison Janney doesn't need me to talk about her. To sing her praises. Good lord, look at her list of awards and nominations at IMDB HERE

Emmys, SAG, Independent Spirit, AFI. More people than just the Corndog have noticed her work and how she immediatey steps up the game of whatever she's in. I often find that she's so amazing with her part in American Beauty...so into that part...that you forget she's in there until someone says, "Hey, remember her in American Beauty?"

"No. I don't remem....ohhhh, yeah...!"

I can see where that wouldn't be much of a compliment...but it's intended at the highest one I can give.

So, really, how cool was it to see her in "Lost" this week? I recognized her voice immediately, no matter what she was speaking. After the first couple of minutes of seeing her though, I thought the role was sort of "smallish" for such a great actress. Hadn't seen her in so long, and she's doing bit parts? Doesn't seem right.

Until she picked up that rock!

And then we saw she was a little bit this side of crazy. (And that's saying something for "Lost" where, really, everyone seems to be neighbors on Crazy Street)

Oh yes. This was why she was missed. Granted, as CJ she wasn't dealing with supernatural beings and wasn't stealing twins and wasn't smacking folks in the head with rocks (not literally anyway), but the way she fully commits to a role and offers more...much more...out of a character than I even think the creators think is there. That's what I remember.

That's what we miss about CJ.

What I miss anyway.

Now, excuse me, I've got 7 seasons of West Wing to watch again while I'm waiting for a competent writer to create a part where she can do this again...week after week. This is a gushy post, I know, but man it was nice seeing her again.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Film: True Beauty This Night

Got ten minutes?

Got ten minutes for near perfection?

I saw a ten minute film recently that pretty much captured the essence of what a short film could be. It's hard to find really, even in this world of made for short attention span internet programming. It's hard to do it right. It's hard to get wrapped up in characters, decide if you like someone enough to care about what happens, root for them, laugh with them, feel their disappointment, and then feel their joy.


Sometimes it would be easier to just say, "It can't be done."

But it can. And one instance of it is Peter Besson's short film. Beautifully filmed. Nicely acted. Deftly written. And ultimately satisfying.

Ok, maybe, just maybe, you've got some of it doped out during the phone call. But you're never certain. But that idea might just be intentional...Besson drops clues all along the way...it unfolds...well, not slowly, as he's only got ten minutes, but it unfolds deliberately. When it should. Nothing revealed too early.

And a credit to the actors...Dustin Seavey and Meegan Michel...the last scene...the scene that tells most of the story, and provides the great finish, is done with no dialog. Something that would be easy to screw up...but so masterfully done the entire theater laughed and then applauded.

Where can you see it?

Dunno. Film festivals probably. That's where I saw it. Shorts get...well...short shrift generally, one usually stumbles upon them. Here's the website:


Perhaps they'll post where they'll be screening it. Eventually, I imagine, it'll be put online. It deserves better treatment than that I think...but it's something.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Music: The Galt Line

I love live music.

I love musicians that seem to be enjoying themselves...that take what they're doing seriously, but know that the reason they were doing this in the first place was because it was fun.

And I love stuff off the beaten path creatively.

And, after catching a recent live show, I love The Galt Line.

Oh, I could burn up blogospace galore trying to describe what they were like...comparing them to this band and that band...Squirrel Nut Zippers meets, I don't know, Asylum Street Spankers...is that really all that big a stretch? Probably not. Who knows? What I do know is that they are infectious in the best way possible. By song two everyone was paying attention.

Electric uke, bottlecap leg shakers, bass, smoking guitar, a drum, and a lead vocal that makes you want to drink, smile, and try to remember when the last time you had as much fun as the band was having.

Blah blah blah. Like there's anything I could write that would be half as good as listening to them sing. Watch this bit of phone cam wonder:

How much fun would that be?

What's even better, they're all over the place, if you check out the show line-up here:
you'll see that they're playing all over the country...do yourself a favor...check the list and if they're near you...go.

Monday, April 12, 2010

Cooking: Couscous Critical Mass

So, how much couscous is too much couscous?

Short answer: anything over 2 cups, dry.

And this is experience talking, not just some opinion. This is stuff learned in the school of hard knocks. And it happened thusly:

In looking for a recipe for a side dish to bring to a large function, I checked the cupboard to see what was available.

Couscous. Right there. Couscous in the cupboard. With children's book title simplicity there was couscous in the cupboard. So I went looking for recipes that matched up with my couscous in the cupboard. Companions in the crisper (the sequel to "Couscous in the Cupboard").

Yet, try as I might, the recipes I found all called for just 2 cups of dry couscous...and served only 4 or 6. I needed more, I thought, so I opted for one recipe that matched up with what was in the fridge and doubled it.

Four cups of dry couscous...surely enough for small portions on a buffet. BUT, that was my undoing. See...serving 4 or 6 as one side of, say, two...healthy portions at that...would likely have sufficed in feeding a BUNCH of people when it was one side of, say, two dozen.

That was lesson ONE. And a good one that could apply to many other foods for future reference.

Lesson TWO was couscous specific.

As it turns out...barring the possession of a commerical sized kitchen, or at least commercial sized cookware, 2 cups of couscous is roughly all a mere mortal can handle without making an outsized mess of his or her kitchen. In short, as I had doubled the recommended amount, there was couscous everywhere (truth be told, 24 hours later, there still is).

Once it was added to the boiling water and allowed to sit and expand it well overtook my capacity to handle it effectively, or with any pretense (honed from watching many episodes of Top Chef) of skill, aplomb, or just plain competence.

And as I went to "fluff with a fork" the problem increased exponentially. How was I ever going to mix in the other ingredients? There was still asparagus, feta, and a half pound of tomatoes to get into this bowl.

Well, not this bowl...I had to change bowls...twice. Eventually the couscous was heaped like K2 on a cookie sheet in the next room (leaving the requisite trail of semolina granules behind) while I struggled to find a container big enough to hold the mass.

HOLD, as it turns out, is not sufficient. Extra care must be taken to add extra space to TOSS said couscous with said additions. And the dressing.

As it turns out, tossing couscous takes on a literal connotation. When cooked correctly (and unlike rice) couscous does not tend to remain together. Obviously the gravitational attraction that keeps rice together when tossing is inverted when dealing with couscous. Couscous tends to fly apart with the application of any outside kinetic energy.

Which it did.


I fancy myself an adequate cook. I measure, but add flair; I clean up as I go but I don't like it sterile; I am attentive but like to drink when I cook. However, at the end of this endeavour...when the mixture was in the bowl and ready for presentation...the counter (and floor, sink, table, and more than a few kitchen chairs) looked as if a great couscous battle had be waged...and our side was outgunned.

I could hear Padma whispering in my ear, "Corndog, pack your knives and go."

Ok, yes...I'll go. But I go a wiser man. Seemingly betrayed by a favored ethnic starch I realized the fault was my own. Those that had come before had previously determined that 2 cups was all that could be handled, yet I chose to ignore it. An unnecessary lesson learned...but learned well. Add flair. Experiment. Drink whilst cooking. But there there are some universal laws of the universe that must be upheld: oysters disappear if you boil them; no one REALLY likes eggplant...they only tolerate it; and anything more than 2 cups of dry couscous is far too much.

Believe me.

Thursday, May 07, 2009

See...Told you...

The Corndog Rag restarted, I get two or three posts up, and then fall silent for four years.

So here it is...2009 and a new world order...a BROKE new world order, but a new world order nonetheless.

Let's see how long I can keep THIS up!