I once read that listening to Yank Crime from start to finish in a sitting is a serious test of will power, and it’s almost impossible without some Advil or whiskey, anything to take the edge off.
Thats most certainly true. This is hardcore at its finest.
Having Here Come the Rome Plows as the opener for an album would be a disaster for any other band, but it just works here. Setting the standard for what to come, and telling the listener that this is what to expect.
Great vocals througout the album and those noisy guitars are fabulous.
This became their last and only second album. A shame, really, but they said it themselves; there is nowhere to go from here.
They were also one of the best, if not THE, best live act ever. IMO.
Favorite songs: "Do You Compute" and "Luau".
5/5!
1:36 here
And from 7:30 here
John Reis said that he makes the sound using a guitar with EMGs (specified that only EMGs do this) and getting the pickups as close to the amp transformers as possible. I don't have a guitar with active pickups and I'm not interested in installing them so I wanted to ask if there is a pedal that could make this sound.
For those unfamiliar, Drive Like Jehu is an influential post-hardcore group from the mid-90s, known for their self-titled debut album and for their 1994 album Yank Crime. After breaking up in 1995, they re-formed this year to play a string of shows, including two dates at Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival.
Last week I went to The Groove in Nashville to see if they had this album, and they were out of stock at that time so they did a special order. Earlier this week, they called me and told me that my record had come in, so I drove over there right after work and picked it up. When I brought it home and opened it, I didn't know that it was printed on a 12" and a 7". It makes sense when I think about it, but I'm still fairly new to collecting vinyl so it came as a surprise to me.
Anyone else have this kind of pressing of an album?
edit: words
It tasted horrible. It felt horrible. I've been smoking for 12 years, about a pack a day. I've quit before using EasyWay for a few months at a time. This time it's gonna stick.
The last few times I tried cold turkey my mood swings were too bad - I started horrible rows with my girlfriend as an excuse to smoke, I couldn't function at college. So this time I'm using nicotine lozenges. I know Mr. Carr and others preach against NRT, but I think I need to tackle the physical and psychological aspects seperately. This is my addiction and I need to find the way that works best for me.
I want to thank everyone who posts here. I've been lurking for a few weeks in preparation and it's been very helpful.
Listen:
Learn:
Drive Like Jehu are a post-hardcore band from San Diego, CA. They are considered highly influential in the genres of post-hardcore and emo, though they only released two albums. They broke up in 1995, but reformed for a reunion tour in 2014. Guitarist John Reis is also known for his punk band Rocket From the Crypt, also joining Drive Like Jehu vocalist Rick Froberg in the post-hardcore band Hot Snakes. Drummer Mark Trombino is now a sought-after producer in the pop punk genre, producing for Jimmy Eat World and Blink-182.
Released: June 9, 1994
Genres: Post-Hardcore, Emo, Math Rock, Noise Rock
Reviews:
Message the mods to feature your pick for Album of the Day!
"It sounded reasonable at the time? Perhaps mistakes were made?" - Unknown Senior NCO (Suspected Iron Fence), Age of Paranoia, Pre-Glassing
"You know what? I don't wanna know," Unknown Command Sergeant Major (Suspected Hamburger Kingdom), Age of Paranoia, Pre-Glassing
"Get out of my office, you lunatic," Unknown Colonel (Suspected Vodkatrog Empire), Age of Paranoia, Pre-Glassing
"There is a point where we needed to stop and we have clearly passed it but let's keep going and see what happens," Every goddamn Private ever in every goddamn species ever.
"I HATE YOU ALL SO MUCH! I WOULD SHOOT EVERY ONE OF YOU IN THE FUCKING HEAD AND GIGGLE MY ASS OFF FOR A PINT OF PISS AT THE PUB!" - Unknown Company Commander's Friday Safety Briefing (Suspected Bongistan), Age of Paranoia, Pre-Glassing
"That went well, don't you think, sir?"
"Oh my God in Heaven, what's wrong with all of you? This is why we can't have nice things!" - Radio Net conversation, Unknown (Suspected MechaKrautLand), Age of Paranoia, Pre-Glassing
-----
The blue spark reached the clouds and vanished, pulling Legion's intellect and awareness with it. He found himself swirling and rolling as he sped down a tube of data, thousands of bluish sparks joining him as he swept through the datalines.
He was suddenly spit out into a room. He felt the bluish spark get yanked away from his fingers as he landed, butt first, on a bunk. He didn't look around, held perfectly still, using his peripheral vision to get a good look at his surroundings.
Legion was sitting on a bunk in what was obviously a thirty-two man open barracks bay. Around him bunks had bluish sparks hit the carefully tucked and tightened sheets, flickering for a moment to show a Terran male sitting on the bunk, hands on his knees, waiting.
Through the windows was a low-rez sky and unoptimized bushes.
Well well well, where have I found myself? he asked himself, still holding still. He closed his eyes, checking his digital code. The system had dropped him into the area without running a full scan, so even his barely hidden code was intact and waiting for use.
You see me now, a veteran of a thousand psychic wars, he quoted.
Inside of himself code blocks slid back, code loaded into his brain, fitting neatly in the sections that had b
... keep reading on reddit ➡The evening is quiet, streets lit up with the yellowed moons of street-lanterns, the sky above once more filled with the acrid, heavy to breathe-in smoke. Thomas grabs at the broom Mother gave him, the wooden handle chipped with old, smelly paint that grits against his reddened hands, cracked and bloodied from the frostbite, with callouses that have broken up and healed with puss that stained the papers, that made the boss-man yell and yank at him.
His tongue instinctively moves to the broken tooth, running around its rough edges that met the sidewalk that day, the taste of dried blood soothing the dull ache.
Thomas could not get his supper if too many newspapers were damaged, and this week, half of them are good for nothing. The bandages given in the infirmary bled through, and till they heal, he has content with the street cleaner duty. It’s still better than rotting in a cell, mind you, especially given the approaching frost.
He peers over the window sill inside one of the tenement buildings, a cheeky fireplace and green fir branches blinking as if to bid him welcome from within. It feels strange, shoveling the heavy snow from around door to door, some of them poorer in design, icy cold wind howling within the frame and the corridor; others - double-glazed, prepped from the inside with cushions that must feel heavenly when laid down to sleep in, oh what Thomas would give to have a make-shift pillow over the wooden plank used at the boss quarters! It would be so wonderful, and so warm, and cozy enough to…
“The hell you think you get to ogle me flat for?” A voice booms from behind him. “Boy, stop dwindling in there, eh!”
The dreamy smile Thomas has plastered across his face immediately falls.
The lady is tall and broad in shoulders, her fat stomach taking the better part of Thomas’ view as she towers over him, her chalky coat trimmed with white soft fur; two little fox faces look down at Thomas, their eye sockets empty but the rotten black teeth still intact, modeled in a joint sneer forever.
The fur spills across her arms filled with various tokens; a greased bag full of meat and bone, fresh green moss, and scraps of fine leather. There is a big drawing of a festooned tree on the newspaper she has clasped to her breast.
She huffs at Thomas, as he bends onto himself, his cheeks hot and ashamed. He snatches the dirty cap from his head and mutters an out-of-breath greeting into his scarf to the boss’ mistress.
“Make way!” She elbows past him wi
... keep reading on reddit ➡Bob Dylan: The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan, The Times They Are A-Changin', Blonde on Blonde
The Beach Boys - Pet Sounds
The Velvet Underground - The Velvet Underground
The Beatles - White Album, Abbey Road
The Stooges - Fun House
The Mahavishnu Orchestra with John Mclaughlin - The Inner Mounting Flame
Lou Reed - Transformer
Frank Zappa - Apostrophe (')
Wire - Pink Flag
David Bowie - Station to Station
Television - Marqeee Moon
The Slits - Cut
The Clash - London Calling
Violent Femmes - Violent Femmes
Misfits - Earth A.D./Wolfs Blood
Metallica - Master of Puppets
Public Enemy - It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back
They Might Be Giants - Lincoln
Beastie Boys - Paul's Boutique
Tom Waits - Bone Machine, Blood Money
Dr. Dre - The Chronic
Earth - Earth 2: Special Low Frequency Version
Weezer - Blue Album
Drive Like Jehu - Yank Crime
Swans - Soundtracks for the Blind
Belle and Sebation - If You're Feeling Sinister
Radiohead - OK Computer
The Misfits - Static Age
Common - Like Water for Chocolate
OutKast - Stankonia
Björk - Vespetine
Threebrain - Weeeeee!
The Unicorns - Who Will Cut Our Hair When We're Gone?
Kanye West - The College Dropout
LCD Sounsystem - Sound of Silver
Next chapter up is New Jersey!
**Disclaimer for Jersey: I watched S1 and S2, but when S3 had that massive fight with Tre’s family, I bounced. The family drama was a little too real and like, this maybe shouldn’t be on tv question mark, for me. I didn’t rejoin until Jackie and Jennifer joined and then weaved in and out last season because of Tre. Because of that, this one was harder to me to know what was groundbreaking and what was already known in the in-between.
Repeat: There's a lot of info in each chapter, but I tried my best to keep out anything repetitive or something that is more considered common knowledge. Each chapter will get its own post because there's soooo much in some of them. I'm planning on going in order but spacing them out so as to not clog the daily feed. Also, I took notes on my phone while I read, so some names are shortened in bullet points after first mention, and if something is messed up in formatting or misspelled, I'm super sorry. Anything in quotes is straight from the book! I tried to leave my actual thoughts out of this.
Disclaimer for those who don’t know: Andy Cohen Books published this bad boy, so take that for what you will. Also, the copyediting in this book is HORRIBLE.
Link to OC. Link to NY. Link to ATL. Link to DC. Link to BH. Link to Miami. Link to RHOP. Link to Dallas.
-
HWs who didn’t participate: Joe Gorga, Joe Guidice (though he’s not mentioned, he didn't particpate).
-
Diana was set to be the star of NJ because of her personality, charisma, and wit.
-
NJ was differ
(I Promise this is the end of 'Award')
#Alien-Nation Chapter 78 (Award IV)
Amilita led me from the bathrooms, back outside to where the catering was, and true to our prediction, the cameras followed closely, bobbing along as we walked down the front stairs together.
“So what now?”
She said a word I didn’t recognize, not even looking down at me, instead forward as we strode past where the cameras were waiting, and back out into the sun.
“Sorry, what was that word?” I asked politely.
“I’m told it’s like your version of ‘Smile and wave’,” Amilita supplied, stopping at last once we were on the steps, looking out over the enormous grass lawn and the afternoon’s proceedings. I made a quick note that the table of books had been completely picked through. “I think Natalie just ate too much and got nervous. She doesn’t have the…” The Officer searched for words before settling on: “...the toughest constitution. I’m sure she will be fine.”
I forced myself to calm down, and gazed down at my new omni-pad. I wanted nothing more than to run back to the bathroom, to hell with everything else, but… it was kind of true. I wanted to point out how she’d trucked Jordan way back at the track party, but it was true that she was absolutely dwarfed by almost every other Shil’ in attendance. Was she naturally given to panic? How much did I really know about her?
I felt a little warmth in my chest, remembering how she’d held me at the covered bridge.
I know enough.
I spoke the words ‘translate Smile and Wave’ in English into my omni-pad, holding down a button to activate the microphone. I watched it automatically pull up its ‘translation’ feature, and the device pulse in its bright, rainbow colors from the center. The information came up much faster than on the one I’d been given by Talay, and even more impressive, the translation was fully nuanced, rather than a direct series of translations of ‘smile’ ‘and’ ‘wave.’ The middle framed a phonetic sounding for me, with all the little nitty-gritty details of the word’s etymology underneath. This was all way, way more information than I’d had access to before.
I experimentally tried the word out silently a few
... keep reading on reddit ➡[Chapter 1] ; [Previous Chapter] ; [Discord + Wiki]
Chapter 40 – New friends, old enemies
Disoriented, Shida rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, her alarm loudly blaring in her ears. How long had she slept for?
With effort, she turned herself around so that she could get the annoying device to shut up while simultaneously checking the time on the terminal. It was the fourth hour of the day. Of course, it was. She had set the alarm to this time herself, after all.
After staring at the time slowly ticking up for nearly two minutes, she finally groaned and strenuously pushed herself up from the uncomfortable futon, which formed the only barrier between her and the cold, hard floor.
The accommodations on Congloarch’s ship left a lot to be desired, since they were basically cobbled together from the equipment made for a very different crew that usually inhabited the vessel.
Not that she couldn’t make it work, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable.
Absently, she skulked through the cabin on her way to the washroom, dropping her current change of clothes on the way. Then she stepped into the way-too-large-for-her sanitary unit and turned on the hot water, feeling the fluid flow over her with strong pressure, while she supported herself by leaning against the unit’s wall with both hands.
Her wet mane, made heavy from the water, hung down around her face in dense tufts, forming a thick, dark curtain that blocked out the world around her as the water rushed over her. She stood like that for a while, letting herself be doused before finally finding the energy to actually wash herself off.
A few minutes later, she finished by rinsing out her hair, pressing the water out of it between her fingers while turning off the flow and turning on the drying function instead.
The warm air blew in her face and through her hair, quickly taking away the damp feeling the shower had left behind and leaving her warm and with a fluffed-up mane. Since she really didn’t want to trade in this warm feeling for immediately being cold again, she skipped the next step of just standing around and waiting for things to happen and instead opted to immediately get dressed again.
Leaving the washroom with quick steps, she walked back out into
... keep reading on reddit ➡At the end of Godblight, Roboute Guilliman is >!killed by Mortarion using the titular disease. Roboute is then resurrected(again) and proceed to burn a part of Nurgle's Garden. Most believed this was the !<Emperor possessing Guiliman, like how some believe he did to the child in Plague Wars. But I have reasons to believe otherwise. My personal theory is it wasn't the Emperor who possessed Guilliman, but his[Guilliman's] presence in the Warp. Think about it, Guilliman was the only primarch whose location was known to the Imperium. His body was a pilgrimage site for nearly ten thousand years. The Imperial Cult deified him as a demigod; Guilliman, the Emperor's Avenging Son.>! Earlier in the book, he talks to his Aeldari counsel about the nature of gods and the Emperor's divinity. Natasé remarks on the effects of faith and on Guilliman's own divinity:!<
>The gods of the warp are more ephemeral, and more diverse in type. Many are mere concentrations of feeling, some were once mortals themselves, before the belief of others changed them. The gods of my ancestors were of both sorts, I believe, though this is not the only philosophy propounded by my kind, and I have heard many heated debates on the subject. It is impossible to say now, for our gods were slain when we fell, and even if they could be asked, they would not know the truth of it, for the truth would change anyway, as it must, according to the beliefs of those who had faith in them...
>
>...'But if the people of the Imperium ceased to believe in the Emperor, He would not vanish,' said Guilliman. 'He has a physical presence, even now. He sits upon the Throne. By that measure, He is not a god.'
>
>'How can you be so sure, simply because He existed before He took to His Throne? You base your supposition on the idea that He was actually a man to begin with, and that He did not lie. You also suppose that what sits upon the Golden Throne still has a mortal life, and would persist should His worship cease,' said Natasé. 'Did I not say there are gods who were once mortals? These beings become focal points for belief, and belief begets faith, as the pure gods of the warp do, those that are consciousnesses which emerge from the othersea. The difference is, for gods who were something before they were gods…'
>
>Guilliman raised an eyebrow.
>
>'Hypothetically speaking,' said Natasé smoothly, 'not assuming that is what happened to your father – in cases l
After a horrific injury that left him near death, Henry was pieced back together with the best cybernetic prosthetics that the Akan Corporation could buy. When he wakes up on the operating table, Akan himself arrives to greet him, claiming that Henry is his corporate property and is to be made into the corporation’s perfect soldier. The cyborg soon discovers that Akan has an army of cybernetic soldiers based off of Henry’s design, waiting to be produced and distributed across the world to further Akan’s goals of terrorism, organized crime and world domination. Now, it’s up to Henry to rescue his wife, kill the psychic bastard and save the world.
Towards the end of the film, Henry receives a huge boost to his physicals from two giant vials of adrenaline. Feats from this scene will be marked.
##Strength##
Striking
- Kicks in a metal panel
- Kicks a door into a cop, throwing him back
- Breaks a bus window with his elbow
- Drops a man with a headbutt
- Kicks a man’s knee, eliciting a crunching noise
- Kicks open a locked gate, breaking the padlock
- Stomps in a vent cover on the top of an armored vehicle
- Shatters glass with a punch
- Can knock enemies aside with his blows
- Breaks a guy’s back by stomping on it with both feet
- [Adrenaline] Kicks an enemy across a floor and off a skyscraper
Slamming
- Breaks open a big guy’s head on a tile floor with a few slams
- Slams a man’s head through a chunk of concrete, breaking it apart
- [Adrenaline] Breaks a man’s arms by slamming them onto a length of metal
- Slams a helicopter door on a woman’s fingers, causing her to fall
Grip
- [Crushes an apple](https://gfycat.com/alivemajorcheetah
As usual, /u/Bluefishcake wrote Sexy Space Babes and is allowing me to write this
“Wait. Waitwaitwait, lemme get this straight,” I said, looking at the wreckage. “You’re trying to figure out who’s behind the whole Purity Control thing?”
Sashann nodded, reading through more of the memos.
I facepalmed. “I could have told you that. It’s the Baron. Baron Stamatios. We didn’t need to crash a train… Awesome as it was.” It seriously was awesome.
“Well,” Sashann shrugged. “Yeah. But we have evidence he wasn’t acting alone.”
“Of course.” That was news to me. “Yeah, I knew that.”
“It’s looking like…” Daratch sat on a smashed weapons case and kept scrolling. “No names, but we have references to businesses… Woah. Big businesses. Very big businesses.”
“How big?” Gor craned his neck to take a look.
“How does Cymanna Manufacturing sound? Sorn Arms? And of course tons of people in the Stamatios corporation.”
“Stamatios corporation…” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “They make medical equipment, right?”
“Not just,” Gor said. “If it’s used in hospitals, doctors’ offices, pharmacies, Light, you walk into a refueling station and buy a pack of adhesive bandages, the Stamatios Corporation made them. They got their own private army, Interior agents in their pocket, even had laws changed to benefit them.”
“Right… So what do we do?”
“Weeeeeeeeeellllllllllllllll…” Sashann scratched the back of her head. “Once we get this information back to Alliance space, they could always infiltrate these companies.” She shrugged.
“Ok, but right now?” I heard a noise in the distance. A kind of whining sound. Troop transports! And the sound of Marines walking through the woods, too.
“We make ourselves scarce!” Gor snapped. We ran for it as the sound of Shil voices got louder. Their talking turned into shouts as we scattered.
Ok, the great thing was that Shil’vati stamina was shit. After twenty minutes they were still not able to catch us. Of course that meant chasing turned into shooting. I ducked as I heard the sound of ionizing air. It smelled like ozone.
I jumped over a log and crawled beneath. This big chunk of tree was bent enough I could crawl right up and sight my rifle. I fired and…
Holy shit, that was some kick! I’d forgotten just how powerful these big bullets were. The recoil slid me back an inch or two. One of the
... keep reading on reddit ➡My story takes place a few years ago.
I’m a twenty five year old female now, but back then I was the ripe age of twenty three, and had a sudden stroke of luck. I’d saved up for my first home, and in my search, I came across a fairly old Victorian in a rural neighborhood of Port Perry, Ontario.
The house was beautiful, well priced, and close to my place of work. Without much of a second thought, I’d snatched it up, and within a matter of weeks I was moving in to my new home.
I remember the day I moved in vividly; I stood on the small, white cobble stone pathway leading up to the wooden wrap-around porch stairs, grinning up at the houses vacant windows. Its brick was a pale yellow, recently re-painted, and its intricate trimmings a bright white that contrasted sharply with the coal black shingles of the roof, it’s pointed spires silhouetted against a spotless blue sky.
I had sighed contentedly, tearing my eyes away from the house and glancing around the rest of the property. It had been mid fall, October 15th to be exact, and the forest behind the house was a patch work quilt of colours. The leaves fell gently to the ground, carried by a crisp autumn breeze, blanketing the forest floor in the earthy tones of autumn.
Focusing my attention back on the task at hand, I began making my way up the path, my box of kitchen utensils in hand. The movers I’d hired strode past me, throwing me the occasional smile and asking where I wanted things, and I would reply politely with directions. On my third trip out to the truck, I got the distinct feeling of being stared at.
Turning around, I expected to find one of the men, but instead found that I was alone. Before I had the opportunity to brush it off however, I caught movement in my peripheral vision.
In one of the upstairs windows, I just barely caught the silhouette of a person slip out of view.
It was there one second and gone the next so quickly, I blinked a few times, thinking that last night’s insomnia had made me imagine things.
I made a mental note to go to bed early that night, and with a sense of unease, I entered the house.
Little did I know, that first day would be the beginning of a series of disturbing encounters that would make me a local hero, and a firm believer in the unknown.
That same night I lay awake in my new bedroom, staring up at the ceiling as the sounds of nature drifted lazily through my cracked window. Back in the city, there had been a constant barrage of noise every night, and
... keep reading on reddit ➡
I don't want to step on anybody's toes here, but the amount of non-dad jokes here in this subreddit really annoys me. First of all, dad jokes CAN be NSFW, it clearly says so in the sub rules. Secondly, it doesn't automatically make it a dad joke if it's from a conversation between you and your child. Most importantly, the jokes that your CHILDREN tell YOU are not dad jokes. The point of a dad joke is that it's so cheesy only a dad who's trying to be funny would make such a joke. That's it. They are stupid plays on words, lame puns and so on. There has to be a clever pun or wordplay for it to be considered a dad joke.
Again, to all the fellow dads, I apologise if I'm sounding too harsh. But I just needed to get it off my chest.
[Chapter 1] ; [Previous Chapter] ; [Wiki + Discord]
Chapter 38
“The door is closed,” Curi unhelpfully informed their comrades while staring up at the absolutely massive gate, separating the airlock of the shuttle dock from the interior areas of the Great Community Station.
Shida smacked her lips, pressing herself as flat as she could against the wall of the building they used for cover, in order to remain close enough to the gate in case it opened. Curi had been by her side, less careful about not being seen while briefly peeking around the corner to survey the current situation, before falling back towards their more massive company, who had to stay further back in cover as to not draw any attention to them. Of course, Shida and Curi stuck out from the crowd more than Moar or Congloarch did, however they were still harder to spot overall as long as they tried to conceal themselves.
“We are too early,” Shida agreed with Curi, staring at the sealed edges of the pretty much impenetrable safety-door. “Looks like we’re going to have to wait.”
“Let’s just hope we’re not too late,” Congloarch commented in a low rumble, his eyes erratically scanning his barren surrounded, limited by the concealed space of their hiding place between the walls of two unevenly scaled buildings, one of which had clearly been only recently rebuilt while the other one showed plenty of signs of aging in scratches and discoloration along its exterior.
Under one of his huge arms, the giant was carrying two large suitcases of very different manufacturing. One was made of a sturdy, rough, grey cloth that was supported by metal and leather braces on its edges to give it structure. The other was looking more like a huge, brown leather pouch with a sturdy metal clamp keeping it shut.
James’ and Shida’s belongings had been stashed exactly where she had arranged with the Roosh’Gaack. Luckily, they kept their word.
“You know, saying that isn’t very helpful,” Shida annoyedly admonished the tonamstrosite, managing to keep her voice to a low hissing instead of straight up yelling at him like she wanted to do. Of course, they could also be too late. Or that door could never open, since James was already dead on the curb on the other side of the st
... keep reading on reddit ➡
