Wave Goodbye: The end of NIN.

On the Wave Goodbye (or NIN/JA) Tour, the night started with us walking in and seeing some guy about my age, in glasses and holding a Bible, "preaching" to everyone going in. The only thing I clearly remember him saying was, "Jesus Christ was the first person to ever say the word 'hellfire.'" I'm not really sure what the context was, but my first thought was, "That's not something to be proud of." Then I thought maybe the kid just needs to see a good rock show and fuck some drunk chick in the crowd, and then maybe he wouldn't be wound so tight.

I think there might have actually been more people at Trent Reznor's farewell tour last night than Ozzfest, Mayday, X-Fest, or Family Values. If it wasn't sold out, it was damn near close to it. Well, the lines were so damn long that Chris, Kevin, Lisa, and I missed the whole Street Sweeper Social Club set, finding a spot only about five minutes before Nine Inch Nails came on. It sucks even more too, because when I got home, I found a video on YouTube of the crowd singing Happy Birthday to Tom Morello, which apparently happened while we were waiting in line. Fuck.

Anyway, I've seen Nine Inch Nails once before, back on the With Teeth Tour in May 2005, exactly four years ago now. I guess the Noblesville show, the second to last show on the American tour, inspired something of a bit of envy among the rest of the NIN fans since the setlist had a few gems not played anywhere on the rest of the tour. I'm not sure why that was, but maybe it has something to with the Noblesville venue being one of the largest on everyone's tours, twenty-five thousand making a full house. In case you're curious, here's the setlist from last night, not including the instrumental Ghosts tracks. Home was the perfect song to open with, with an extended guitar beginning:

Home
1,000,000
Discipline
March of the Pigs
Piggy (Nothing Can Stop Me Now)
Metal
Meet Your Master
Head Down
I Do Not Want This
Gave Up
The Fragile
The Downward Spiral
Wish
Survivalism
Mr Self Destruct
Physical (You're So)
The Good Soldier
The Hand That Feeds
Head Like a Hole
Hurt

Almost all of this was during the super-cell thunderstorms that tore through Indy. I read that one newcaster even stated that: "Trent Reznor just scared away a tornado." I didn't even have to go stormchasing last night. It came right to us. We could see the dark clouds rolling in during Gave Up, and started sprinkling a little during The Fragile, and right as The Downward Spiral started, it became a downpour, which was as I was attempting to film the song with my phone. I watched it today, and it doesn't sound too bad, until about halfway through, where the sound almost completely disappears. So I think the rain fucked up my microphone. Oh well.

Then the rain slowed back down and lightning flashed across the sky in all four directions during Wish, Survivalism, and Mr Self Destruct. It was nothing short of amazing, only making the show that much better. I guess the preacher-boy was wrong, because it looked like even God enjoyed last night's show. I even enjoyed watching the hippie chick in front of us dance to every song the exact same way: just like Carlton from The Fresh Prince of Bel Air.

The last time I saw NIN was just after With Teeth, so I never got to see any of Year Zero live. Getting to hear Meet Your Master and The Good Soldier live were definitely the highlights, with Hurt definitely among them. I just can't stop reliving how completely badass the show was last night. The more I think about it, the more I realize this was probably the best show I've been to, and I've been to a lot. I'm actually glad he didn't play Closer too, being a crowd favorite, and the fact that I've heard it so many damn times now. It probably would have taken the spot of one of the songs that never gets played, like The Good Soldier, which he only played last night on the whole tour, and was my favorite by far.

"I could say this is our last tour, but it will make you sad. So I won't say it."

I could tell the show was coming to an end with Head Like a Hole and then the last thing Reznor said was: "Every once in a while you have a night where you feel like everything is in the right place, time and place, and this is fucking it. Thank you so much," right before he ended the show with Hurt. It was just perfect.

I didn't really get into Jane's Addiction, other than Dave Navarro shredding the guitar. It was all just a little too 1980's David Bowie for me. I have to say though, the best part was in between two songs when Perry Farrell, practically in drag and holding a bottle of wine, said, "Hey, Indiana, and all you farmers. I want to come live on the farms with you. I know how some of you farm people like to get freaky." Everyone started cheering and I looked over at Kevin, Chris, and Lisa. The sky at this time was a weird black, orange, and purple like a low budget horror film about a midwest cult, and I said, "I think it's time to get the fuck outta here." We left not too long after.

Definitely the best money I've spent in a very long time. Reznor is a fucking god. The only real regret I have is having only seen Reznor twice now before he called it quits. Fuck, that's depressing.

While searching for good pics and vids from last night's show, I actually came across a working torrent of the entire show here: NIN Noblesville torrent. It sounds almost perfect, but of course, it just doesn't compare to actually being there. Also, if you're bored, check out the Nine Inch Nails Film Festival, where people send in videos using the instrumental tracks from his last release, Ghosts: NIN Film Fest.

Update: I kept seeing and hearing something about VIP donations, but had no clue what it was about. Well, here you go: NIN Helps Man In Need Of Heart Transplant. It just makes me wish I had decked that motherfucker holding the Bible.

The machinist, part 2.

I haven't seen much of the old man these days, since they basically laid him off. He only comes in about once every two weeks now. It's sad really, considering how much this man has taught me in the last year and a half. I feel like they're making budget cuts to my education instead of cuts to their overhead. In all fairness though, he is getting a bit too old to be doing all the amazing shit he does, and even a half-god needs rest from time to time. But since I last posted quotes in February, I've built up another decent list, with a couple of stories, the last seeming to be everyone's favorite. I still wish I could remember more, or remember to write down more, because I'm letting so much great wisdom fall through the cracks. Let's hope this isn't the last list I get to make.


Well, I'm heading to the house. Got me some ham salad I made last night for sandwiches. With the old lady sick, I've had to fend for myself. It's kinda nice though, having something different than a hot tongue and cold shoulder.

I talked to your old buddy yesterday. I guess he got back with his old lady. And I guess he dropped a package off for delivery.
Really? I heard she couldn't get pregnant.
Maybe it wasn't actually him. Looks like she found someone to stud her out. I'd get the bitch tested.

It's not pretty, but we ain't entering no fucking beauty pageant. Not that any of them here even know what that is anyway.

Don't marry for money, but hang around rich women ‘til you fall in love.

Driving that nice a'car to work at his age is damn ridiculous. It's just like pissing in the ocean. He's not getting any.

Here. I made an extra plate for you to take home. I know you're cheap and can't afford to dip into that thick wallet to buy yourself dinner.

Don't thank me. I couldn't give a shit today, or tomorrow.

The only time I ever paid for sex was back in my early 30's, I think. I was in D.C. for work, with my friend, and he said, "While we're in Washington, let's get a couple whores." So he got his, I got mine, and back at my hotel room she was sucking me off, and halfway though she looked up at me and said she'd have sex with me too if I wanted. I looked down at her and said, "I'm not paying you for sex. I'm paying you to suck my dick." And I pushed her head back down.

That ain't skill. That's shithouse luck.

Look at that shirt. Boy, you're sharper than a needle-dick hound.

Back when I was a teenager, and I had just got my license, I asked my dad if I could borrow his car. You see, I had a date that night with this broad that got around a bit. I don't know what you kids call 'em these days, but...
I guess we call them hoodrats.
What? Whatever. Anyway, this was back when segregation was still around, so in the movie theater they had a balcony where the blacks sat. Well, I didn't really want anyone seeing me with her, so we sat up there. While the movie was playing, I was fingering that pussy. Not more than a couple minute into it, the most vile, awful smell came up. I'm telling you, kid, fucking rank. Well, it was so bad that all the people around us on the balcony cleared out. I could hear them choking on the way out. After the movie was over, I didn't know what I was gonna do. I mean, that smell almost gagged me, but I was planning on fucking something that night.
God, let me guess...
I took her to the park, wrapped it twice, and fucked the hell outta her. I took her home, and she asked me if I was gonna call her tomorrow. I said, "Fuck no," and tore outta there. Halfway home I pulled the car over and puked. Twice. The next morning my old mad came pounding on my door and asked me, "Why the fuck does my car smell like someone fucking died?" I told him that was my date. He never let me drive that car again.

The truth is never beautiful.

I have never seen a documentary more vague or generalized, or sappy, than "The Beautiful Truth." Then again, "beauty" has always been such a hard thing to define, in a world than holds little "truth." The film is directed by Steve Kroschel, who narrates, while his son, Garrett, plays the part of interviewer and tool. The pair set off to investigate the claims of a Dr. Max Gerson, now deceased, who supposedly found a cure for cancer in 1928. The claim is bullshit, of course, but the film, its team, and the people they interview all believe otherwise.

One thing is for sure, that I am completely and utterly sick of every documentary comparing their antagonist to Adolf Hitler and the Nazis. I have seen enough stock footage of an enraged Hitler, marching Nazis, and Holocaust corpses being tossed into ditches to fill a World War II documentary in itself. Comparing the food and medical industries to the Third Reich in the first ten minutes gave me a very good idea as to what to expect for the next eighty minutes.

Roughly halfway through the documentary I decided to do a bit of research on the subject myself. I stopped the movie and came across several sites on the topic, and once I felt I had read plenty from enough various sources, I had to go against every fiber in my being to finish that overindulgent piece of shit in order to adequately review it.

Gerson's therapy is described as "an alternative dietary therapy which he claimed could cure cancer and most chronic, degenerative diseases. Gerson described his approach in the book 'A Cancer Therapy: Results of 50 Cases.' However, when Gerson's claims were independently evaluated by the National Cancer Institute, it was found that Gerson's records lacked the basic information necessary to systematically evaluate his claims, and the patients who were 'cured' by his treatment were also receiving standard, effective medical treatment simultaneously. The therapy is considered scientifically unsupported and potentially hazardous, and has been blamed for the deaths of patients who substituted it for standard medical care.”

In the film, they place the blame all on major food companies and the companies that supply farmers with chemicals for their crops, but never do they blame the FDA or hold it accountable. In fact, they basically come right out and say those words, when addressing a letter from the company Monsanto, "Assuring its safety is the FDA's job." The filmmakers did not agree. The FDA responded with: "Ultimately, it is the food producer who is responsible for assuring safety." The only thing this tells me is that the FDA serves no purpose. Yet, the filmmakers continue to go after the food industry, completely ignoring the FDA's responsibilities to the public.

At one point they even claim that Monsanto wants to implement a new "terminator technology" that would prevent farmers from saving seeds, leading to no new crops, thus creating mass starvation. I am not even going to go into how fucking moronic the claims of a food company wanting to starve its customers are.

Of course, they were also not above blaming the more popular leaders of recent history for the last century of supposed food crimes, such as Donald Rumsfeld and John Ashcroft. For the individuals that did not give permission to the filmmakers to use interviews or even their photos, Garrett drew pathetic cartoons, sometimes even caricatures, so crude and demeaning that I half-expected one to have horns and hold a pitchfork by the end of the movie.

But what exactly are Gerson’s methods? "Gerson's therapy required the patient to consume raw vegan food and to drink an 8-ounce glass of fresh organic juices every waking hour. Coffee and castor oil enemas were among several types of prescribed enemas, and some patients were given hydrogen peroxide orally and rectally. Rectal ozone was also applied. Dietary supplements include vitamin C and iodine. The diet prohibited the drinking of water and consumption of berries and nuts, as well as use of aluminum vessels or utensils."

Coffee enemas. Check. Drink hydrogen peroxide. Check. Do not drink water. Check. Nothing could possibly go wrong. Could it? "Coffee enemas have contributed to the deaths of at least three people in the United States. Coffee enemas 'can cause colitis (inflammation of the bowel), fluid and electrolyte imbalances, and in some cases septicemia.'" Well, that was only three deaths. Not so bad. “Initially, patients were required to drink several glasses of raw calf liver extract daily. Following an outbreak of Campylobacter infection linked to the Gerson clinic's extract, which sickened and killed several of the clinic's patients, carrot juice was substituted.” Interestingly, none of this was ever mentioned in the film.

As the documentary progressed, and each "recorded case" of a person being cured was shown, but not proven, I began to wonder what it was that made each case a "success." I knew that there had to be something different for each kind of cancer. But apparently the coffee enema, carrot juice, and organic fruit and vegetable diet cures absolutely everything, from diabetes, to breast cancer, to fibromyalgia. The Gerson Therapy even cures muscular dystrophy. It would seem that by eating only organic foods and shooting a latte up your ass every so often, you can live forever.

Not once does the documentary ever try to explain how this diet cures cancer. Nor does it ever delve any deeper than surface level of the supposed cases where patients are cured. Each interview comes off as shallow as a diet pill commercial, simply claiming “it works, it really works.” What the documentary does attempt to do is alienate and demoralize people who eat fast food, meat, corn, wheat, sugar, beans, nuts, and berries, as well as people that go to hospitals, dentist offices, and supermarkets, and not to forget doctors, dentists, and anyone who works at a non-organic food company. We all know the dangers of genetically-altered foods and monosodium glutamate, the food additive amino acid that shuts off the part of your brain that tells you when to stop eating. But what the documentary claims is that the food we normally eat everyday gives us cancer and the Gerson diet cures cancer.

I found it to be a nice touch when, while on the road, Garrett is shown in the passenger seat eating fast food. The voice over of the narrator says he wanted to tell him not to, but that it was "his own choice." Well, he probably could have prevented that by not pulling into a McDonald's drive-thru when they were hungry. It was also a nice touch, for the sake of proving his point, to have him eat two Big Macs, two large fries, and a sundae, then have him supposedly throw-up on the plane ride three hours later. It all just played into the MSG information only five minutes prior. It was perfect timing.

The real truth is not beautiful. The foods we eat may be giving us cancer. The obesity epidemic is only in America, even though MSG is found in food all over the world now. Americans are fat because they do not know when to stop: food, war, money, power, entertainment, violence, etc. We are simply overindulgent. And despite all fucking claims to the contrary, the Gerson Therapy does not cure shit. Beauty itself is simply a vain lie.

"Ignorance is preferable to error, and he is less remote from the truth who believes nothing than he who believes what is wrong." -Thomas Jefferson

Per Jim Gaffigan.

"I can’t believe I’m going to work on my birthday! I can’t believe I’m doing laundry on my birthday! I can’t believe I’m paying for sex on my birthday!"