Some of my All-Time Top-Ten Best-Ever Record Albums. Some of them.

This could be an enduring project as I continually discover new stuff. But here's the stuff that's been here for a while that I still listen all the way through.



White Stripes - Elephant (2001)
Contains the best guitar playing in the last thirty years. The best rock song-writing in a while. And more heavy rock attitude than we've seen in a while. And all while recalling song styles that are over 75 years old. Key track: Too many, but for starters, try "Ball and Biscuit"


The Newsboys - Step Up to the Microphone (1998)
Here (in my humble opinion) is where the Newsboys hit their creative peak. John James left the band and drummer Peter Furler took over vocals for this album. The song-writing is appropriately hard-edged and fun loving at times, while reverent and praise-worthy at others. Key track: "Woo hoo"


Led Zeppelin - I (1969)
This was Led Zeppelin's freshman project. Before this, they were known only by the notoriety of guitarist Jimmy Page, who was coming off of his stint with the Yardbirds. This album captures the energy and raw talent of this lineup, from Jimmy Page's riffing to Robert Plant's howling vocals to James Bonham's "hammer of the gods" drumming. Key track: "Good Times Bad Times"


Delirius? - Mezzamorphisis (1999)
This collection from the extremely talented UK group Delirius? Every song here has moments of real beauty. The production is phenomenal. These songs are all pre-cursors to the explosion we've seen in the melancholic emo-rock music of Coldplay and their followers. Come see it from the beginning. Key track: "Follow"


Radiohead - Amnesiac (2001)
Radiohead's fifth album may not be critically regarded as their finest, but for me, this is when I discovered the group, so it will always have a special place in my heart. Radiohead's aproach to their sound hasn't changed drastically since their smash-hit "Ok Computer" so the sonic language is familiar, but I feel their song-writing is better than in Kid A and demonstrates a wider range of sonic capabilities. Key track: "Pullk/Pull Revolving Door"


Okay, I gotta go practice now, so I'll have to conclude this later. . .

T.

Movie Review: The Corpse Bride
Directed by Tim Burton
Starring: Johnny Depp, Helena Bonham Carter, and Christopher Lee


For some, twelve years has been far too long a time between Burton's foray into this film style, considering how easy it was to fall in love with his vivid and distinct storytelling in this unconventional medium. I think it is safe to say that this movie will not disappoint the loyal fan.

Tim Burton's Corpse Bride is a stylized follow-up to 1993's blockbuster the Nightmare Before Christmas, a film that was praised not only for the beautiful and creative visual style that blended traditional stop-motion animation with CGI to create a visually vivid world, but also for it's clever and inventive storyline.

Virtually no element of Nightmare's recipe was touched for the Bride. This new film is complete with all of the ghoulish, spidery-legged, outlandish colored, obtusely shaped characters that became instantly associated with Nightmare. Tim Burton has a certain penchant for a romanticized vision of the after-life. Or at least an affinity for making us feel slightly ill at ease with his vision of this life. (Think Edward Scissorhands or Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.)
His trademark style is amongst the most distinctive in Hollywood, and it is a project such as this where Burton is able to stretch his creative muscles exactly the way he wants to; in a time and place where you are not held to any laws of nature or physics.
Right from the first frame you are enraptured by the visual style. Even more amazing to think is that these are actual three-dimensional puppets that are pain-stakingly photographed to create such a fluid movement of character.

The most interesting thing for me to talk about here are the creative concepts behind each character. If a character is evil in the film, every part of the puppet from his eyelids to his toenails tells us about his character. Extremes in height and width - all of contributes to giving us information about the character. In this limitless universe, Tim Burton is able to stretch things beyond the point of reality, stressing certain attributes of different characters, leaving less to be accomplished by the script and actors.

The acting in this film is quite decent. Of course Johnny Depp is so absorbed into a role that you wouldn't even recognize his voice, which I rarely ever thought about. (When I did, it was to remind myself that it was Johnny Depp's voice I was hearing, even if I didn't recognize it.) Helena Bonham Carter does a beautiful job, but again I realize how little work was left for the actors to do after the world was already built at the hands of the puppeteers.

My greatest complaint with this film lies with the story itself. The plot is rather uncreative and unimaginative. Chances are Burton and co. are planning that we'll spend so much time looking at the images, that we won't notice much else. But if you do notice the story, you'll notice a pretty straight-foward plot that ends up feeling rather obvious and worn-out. The beauty of Nightmare Before Christmas was that its plot was incredibly imaginative and creative. Compared to this, Bride ends up feeling incredibly unoriginal.

I would rate this film 3 and a half out of 5.

T.

A Guilty Pleasure Revealed...

So I must confess something to you, O haven of cyberspace, of whom no one ever visits or reads. You won't tell anyone, right?

I once had a conversation about guitly pleasures. Thos candy-coated goodness that we allowed ourselves to indulge in, even though we know it wasn't the best available. All of you Britney fans know what I'm talking about. You guys disgust me.
So the light was turned on me. What kinds of things did I have lurking in the shadows that shouldn't see the light of day? At least for 23 year old male? And I'm quite pleased to say, everyone that was at this conversation met with approval at my choice of books, music and movies.

For the most part.

The only thing I was able to come up with at the time was a Limp Bizkit album I owned that I knew was gosh-awful, but I didn't care. Somehow it sounded good to me.
I have since traded away said piece of faulted music, and was presuming my life to be close to perfect now, since I couldn't find any embarassing choices of entertainment whatsoever. All men envied me, all women desired me. It was a beautiful thing.

And then I caught myself popping a DVD into the player yesterday.
I flipped the case over and was shocked. I reeled back in horror. But not so far as to step on my collection of amigo-approved CDs and DVDs.
There was a pattern here I wasn't too proud of!
I considered it. I pondered it. And then I realized I had a problem. An affinity. I felt like calling an AA group of some kind.

I announce it only to you dear Internet, knowing that no one else will read this. (Could this be an attempt to boost my hits?!)
So here it is:


I enjoy John Cusack films.

Now to the layperson wandering by this statement, they may not regard this as exceptionally weird or embarassing, but please, I invite you to probe further. . .
Consider the films that John Cusack has done. Yes, he's a fairly versatile actor who has appeared in many different varieties of film including romantic comedy (America's Sweethearts) action, (Con Air) and thriller, (Identity) but it is one of these genres where he is best known. And that is the Romantic/Comedy.

Yes, now the reality begins to sink in, doesn't it?

I know, it's disturbing to think about, but please, dear Internet, I beg you not to judge prematurely. Hear me out.
Other friends I have know of my rants on precisely this subject. I'll speak about how I have John Cusack and his movies and how he makes these "wussy" movies about "wussy" men and their problems and generally dealing with them like a "wussy."
But the truth of it is: I empathize and identify with Mr. Cusack's plight. The way his character is repeatedly thrown into similar circumstances in any romantic-comedy movie he's in I recognize in my own life and go through the emotional throes with him, taking part in his sadness and joys, hoping that he'll get the girl he wants, even if he doesn't know who that is.

So why am I ever opposed to John Cusack? The wise Internet asks. Well, it's two-fold: On one hand, I empathize with him and realize his struggles as my own, and don't want to watch them played out in front of me. It's uncomfortable. On the other, I see the way all of the beautiful women swoon over the "sensitive emotional" type and I'm sitting there feeling quite jealous of a ficticious screen character. I know, silly, but it's true. I can be sensitive and emotional! I'm just not going to bear it out in front of everyone. If you really think about it, would anyone really want that?

So here in the private confines of the all-hearing Internet I confide. Thanks for being there buddy. I'm gonna go watch High Fidelity now and watch John count down his top-five all-time worst break-ups ever. We'll laugh, we'll learn, we'll love. And someday, John Cusack will be mine.

T.

(Is this what happens when you blog while sitting on the toilet? Betcha all wanted to hear that! Ha ha! You can't un-read it!)

I had a dream last night. . .

I dreamt that I (under some sort of dire circumstances) had t go on and play the drums for Meg at a White Stripes gig. So it was me and Jack White on stage, hopefully wailing away. Thankfully, considering Meg White's elementary drum technique, I was able to keep up with Jack, banging away at what I thought was a pretty similar rhythm to what Meg would have done.

And, as is typical in my dreams, we are never on a solid, easily identifiable location. We seemed to be performing on some sort of balcony overlooking a large restaurant, yet the balcony had as much space behind us as it did ahead of us, at varying different levels.

Afterwards I was able to hang out with Jack and Meg (who was still there for some reason) and we hung out for a while. I seem to remember that we got along quite marvelously, which is how I hoped it would be.

There was no mention of a repeat performance.

T.

Welcome to the newest member of my family!

It's a baby...thing. Okay, it's not a baby. But I call it my baby! I even cradle it to sleep at night. Sing it lullabyes and pet it softly.

Ladies and Gentlemen: it's my new computer!

ta da!

(Gasps of disbelief. Shock! Horror! Unthinkable! Unfathomable! Unthathonkable!)

I know what you're thinking: how could he possibly get any cooler?!
Well, try this:
for free!
Yes, you heard me correctly... Because of Apple's release of their new iPod Nano, they are eliminating their stock of iPod Minis. Clever, huh? Makes you wonder what happened to the iPod Micro doesn't it? Skipped right over it.

On a more vaild note, the circumstances were evaluated, and I really felt that it was time to step in the arena of mobile technology. The idea of having access to my files and the internet regardless of what state or city I am in is becoming more important. Also, the growing availability of wireless internet, (both at school and now, up here at the house) means that the wonders of wireless internet are mine to explore while sitting on my couch in my underwear.
And now, since the homeowners I live with have returned from one of their myriad of travels and will be here for a while, my use of the computer (where I started this lovely blog) will be severely reduced, which would mean that none of you would hear from me again! Now isn't that sad? Of course it is.

Now here's the best part! I got it on clearence!! So it was several hundred off of the normal price, plus my student discount, plus the free ipod plus a big rebate on the printer-scanner-copier combo. . . needless to say, it was a monumentous day for consumerism. The bargain gods are rejoicing.

Now go away. I have much to explore on this cool little toy. . .

T.

A rant on Star Wars to come soon. Won't that be fun...

My Rant on the Matrix Trilogy
(Everyone brace yourselves...)

How can a film trilogy that begins in such a revolutionary, mind-bending way end up in the deepest corners of cliche and recycled plot twists?

Let us first pay homage to the first of the Matrix films. Released in 1999, virtually as an unkown film project, it went on to be one of the year's top at the box office.
With a plot the perfect balance of tradition and revolution, the Matrix spawned a legion of imitators both in style and content; everyone trying to either pull off the science-fiction story elements (the decent Equilibrium) or it's revolutionary style of cinematography. (The "bullet-time" effect mimicked in countless movies not excluding Shrek.)
To me, this is the sign of a milestone in film history. It is seldom that a film comes along that spawns so many imitators.

So how do you top a film that has not only mind-bending special effects, but also mind-bending plot, twirling science, philosophy and emotion in a colorful whirl? A plot that engages not only the audience not only on a physical basis of emotion, but on a spiritual level as well.

The answer: You can't.

Other times have arisen when a filmmaker is in the position to make a sequel to a film, and it has the expectations and potential to be great, but the majority of the time, it fails miserably. Why? Honestly, I believe they try too hard.

After introducing a plot that consists of giant robots using humans for batteries, and feeding real-world images into our brains via a broad-band connection to our cranium, how much further can you explore this idea, when you've already introduced a hero with seemingly unlimited capabilities?

The Wachowski Brothers' script begins to fall apart on them during Reloaded when various characters visit the Oracle, and dialogue descends into confusing mumbo-jumbo that does not have a point or purpose, except to confuse the heck out of it's audience, hoping we won't notice. Perhaps, the Wachowskis thought that everyone was coming to the film just to see all of the cool fighting and special effects. Unfortunately for the Brothers, a good number of us came to see how the universe of the Matrix would unfold, and we were confused, and disappointed.

Alot of advantages can be held by the second chapter of a trilogy. It is the time when the plot and characters really become embroiled in their circumstances, and when our relationship with the characters deepens. Sadly, Reloaded ends up playing off as a carnival side-show, with all of it's greatest moments being about slam-whiz-bang action filmmaking, without any of the legitimate substance that the first film had.

But hey, it's all prelude to act three, right?

Revolutions begins with Neo trapped in a coma-type trance, forsaken in some subway terminal, (probably in Brooklyn) and trying to get his way back to the Matrix to help his friends. Agent Smith, the chief antagonist in the first Matrix film returns as a rogue computer program eating the Matrix from the inside. This leads to the ultimate show-down between Neo and Agent Smith. It is our Apocalpyse. With really cool clothes and kung fu.
So many things begin to go wrong with this film. It would appear that Andy and Larry Wachowski used up their creativity in creating the Matrix universe, and saved none to sustain us through the journey.

- Fight scenes begin to feel old and programmed, with all of the beautiful choreography and stunt work that we've come to expect, but it begins to feel expected and rehearsed.
- The musical score begins to play like the worst-of from an early ninties romance. The lush strings rise and fall from crescendo appropriately to the various dramatic throes. The menacing motifs poke through as evil lurks on screen. The original Matrix soundtrack was incredibly popular as a stand-alone product because of it's (again) original blend of orchestral scores and heavy metal thrashing. By the third film, we're all too accustomed to what we're going to be hearing.
- The cinematography, while familiar and comforting, is almost dictating. The Wachowskis were very vocal of their "comic" style of shooting, using the space on frame the same way a comic artist would in arranging their character elements. When we reach points in the story that are primarily dialogue-driven however, the directors seem to go on vacation, and leave the scenes to play out with a dull thud.
- And let us say nothing of the nauseating level of cliches that infects the final film. Every dramatic turn plays like a bad punchline, with the audience beating the movie to the point, and wishing for it to hurry along and catch up. Things seem to move in slow-motion, allowing us time to seep in the gravity of the great and wonderous circumstance in which the characters find themselves, (and in which we are supposed to be thoroughly absorbed) but it ends up making the viewer impatient and wondering if now's a good time to slip out to visit the bathroom.
(Will a hand always make the sound of popping knuckles when you ball up your fist? Apparently so...)
- Drawn out segments that border on deathly. The best example of this I can think of is the final battle in the last few minutes of Revolutions. Of course we are meant to be looking forward to this confrontation, but how many times can you make a blurry exchange of blows interesting? The Wachowskis try again and again, and each time getting a little more complex with the special effects, until finally they realized that simple might be more effective. Too little, too late. The death blow ends up as an anti-climax.

And what does our hero do after giving his life for all of the other subterranean dwellers? he's carried off on the tendrils of a machine looking rather similar to a certain crucified figure...that probably wasn't intentional though. Although the vocal Kyrie chant at that exact moment makes you wonder...

This could go on forever, but I think I'll end now while this thing seems to have a little cohesive structure. You get my point, I'm sure. A brilliant beginning stretched out into eight hours of a washed-out imitation. . .of itself.

That's gotta be a first.

T.

It's September 30th, and if you're in Cleveland, you've got something to be excited about.

The Indians find themselves in a recently uncommon position: poised for the playoffs.
The Indians haven't done much of anything since their hey-day in the late-ninties. Gone are the days of Omar Visquel. We are left to the young and the inexperienced.
And yet some how, this club has managed to pull together enough wins to be tied with (of all people) the Yankees for the Wildcard going into the post-season.

Coming from Minnesota, I'm no stranger to losing. Or rather, I'm no stranger to losing big. When it counts. When I really really need it, that's when I'm disappointed. As Garrison Keillor would say, the Minnesotans have a certain capacity for suffering the rest of the world doesn't understand. It's a priviledge; we embrace it.
So it should be no surprise then when our sports teams fail and fall on their faces, we fans are still there for them to pick them up out of the dirt and dust them off. We love them. They're our friends. We invite them into our homes every Sunday afternoon, and three nights a week. We can't even say that about alot of our family.

But it would seem there is a trend in most other parts of the country that when your team does well, you're on the bandwagon. When they lose, you're in line to egg their house.
What is with this lack of loyalty? Why is it we're only a fan when things go well? I'll never understand this. Mistakes are made and blood will be spilled, but at the end of the day, those are still your Cleveland Indians or your Minnesota Vikings. Irregardless of if they succeed or fail, you must stand by them!

Fanaticism is well exercised in the likes of Boston and New York, where it's dangerous to one's well-being to wear a competing ball club's merchandise on their turf. And yet I've seen the most die-hard of fans turn into a horrible vehement of a human being, accusing everything including their own mothers for the loss that evening. How can there be no allowance for human error?

Two reasons:
1. Coming from a profession that does not allow for errors, I can sympathize with the contingent that demands perfection all of the time. There should be no room for silly mistakes, because that is their job.

2. They get paid too many butt-loads of money to be losing games. This reason I agree with even more. I say a player should be paid by the home-run, rbi, catch, stolen base, etc. . . we'd probably have to work on this idea some more. . .


At the end of the day, win or lose, these are your teams. They are part of your city's life, part of their identity and their existence. The friendly competition of sports is something that motivates us and helps make us want to continue on and acheive. It gives us something to rally around.
And after you've poured this much energy and effort into something, you can't betray it as soon as it doesn't turn out the way you hope. Hold on to it! Hide it away and wait for the next time!

Hope springs eternal, especially for the loyal sports fan.

T.

I feel my posts have been depraved recently. Fear not, I shall make a vaild post soon. . .as soon as something valid happens in my life.

T.

I found this rat crawling around in my bathroom this morning.

Just after I took this photograph of it, (which caught it by surprise,) I beat it down into the drain with a shoe. I don't think we'll be seeing the likes of him again. . .

Cleaning Da Bathroom

Before. . .


After. . .


Before. . .


After. . .


Before. . .


After. . .


Isn't housework fun?

The Late, Great Led Zeppelin

It occured to me that I've been writing here for a couple of weeks now, talking about movies, and alot of music, and I've not yet mentioned one of my other all-time favorite bands: Led Zeppelin.

I came to know of Led Zeppelin because of my former teacher, Mark Jackobs. He himself has a bit of rock star pulsing through his veins, and when riding in his car one day I noticed he had a Led Zeppelin CD floating around his back seat.
As a young undergraduate student eager to impress and relate, I decided to become familiar with some of their music, so I could converse with my teacher on the works and artistry of Led Zeppelin.

My first purchase was a "best of" album of most of their later albums. My companion on this particular shopping excursion bought their Remasters two disc set which was a far better sampling of their entire work. So soon later I bought my own copy of Remasters and devoured it, and really truly began to fall in love with their music.

The first full album I bought was IV of course. I'm afraid I wasn't that creative, but since it had some of their most famous songs, it seemed a safe place to start. (Upon further reflection, I must confess I'm not that big of a fan of "Stairway to Heaven" anyway. Try other songs from the album like "Black Dog" or "When the Levee Breaks." Much more indicitive of the band's real power and strength.

From that point on it's been a slow slide into an unhealthy obsession. A collection of their first six albums, both on CD and on vinyl (I don't even own a turntable!) the live DVD set, a window decal and a couple of t-shirts to declare my loyalty.

Am I a junkie? Perhaps. Just hook me up with a fix of "In My Time of Dying" and I'll be fine.

T.

Recommended Movie: Sideways
Directed by Alex Payne Starring Paul Giamatti, Thomas Haden-Church, Virginia Madsen

A buddy film about two middle-agers who head to wine country for a final week of freedom before Jack (Haden-Church) gets married. Jack spends the week trying his hand at various sorts of infidelity, much to the chagrin of his friend, Miles (Giamatti.)
Between the moments of lunacy and desperation are moments of hilarity and pure beauty. This is a movie that I enjoy more each time I watch it. It deserves all of the acolades it collects.
Five out of Five

T.

Breaking News:

History Made in Unprece- dented Sponsor Agreement Between Lump of Clay and Cannibalistic Enterprise (AP)

Santa Barbara, CA - On Tuesday morning a press conference was called at Sun-Maid Co. with the promise of an exciting announcement that would "change America's perception of dried fruit." It was announced that the legendary R&B performing group the California Raisins had inked a five-year contract with Sun-Maid for an undisclosed amount of money.

"This is really a fruitful time for us here at Sun-Maid," said press agent Chuck Fulonuts. Upon later reflection, we believe that yes, he did indeed intend the pun. ". . .we are so happy that the Raisins have agreed to act as our spokespersons to the world in delivering Sun-Maid's message of healthy living and good, fiber-full fruits.

Long-time Raisins bandmembers Beebop and Red were on hand for the press conference.
"We are very happy to lend our notoriety and hipness to the Sun-Maid name; encouraging healthy eating has been something the Raisins have always stood behind. We believe it is as important to support that behavior in America's upcoming generation as it was for the last."

Yet vocal critics have loudly challenged the Raisins decision, since the very nature of Sun-Maid's business could be misconstrued as a conflict of interest for the California Raisins It wasn't even fifty years ago during the great Raisin Boom of the 1950's that raisins were in such short supply that the Raisin's present-day existence was in question. Many critics fear that a Raisin endorsement deal could lead to another shortage, and the rich and famous fruits would watch the demise of their species.

Richard Goesalot, activist for the PCETFV (People's Coalition for the Ethical Treatment of Fruits and Vegetables) fears that the Raisin's sponsorship will do precisely this.
"We've lived too long under the fear that one day there would not be enough dried grapes to go around, and I think we've finally turned the corner to a place from which we cannot return."
Mr. Goesalot said that the PCETFV was petitioning the Raisins to abandon their contract with Sun-Maid

Still others worry of the more philosophical challenges faced by this news. Sandra Nopeerightly represents the UUPAFMTLT-DP (Universal Union of Persons Alliance for the Fair Mental Treatment of Living Things - Division of Plantlife) and argues the fundamental paradox in seeing a raisin encouraging others to devour its own kind.
"This represents a real shift in thinking." Ms. Nopeerightly explains "Never in the past has it been so socially acceptable that we would see a raisin encouraging the consumption and death of his fellow grape-kind. This is pure cannibalism; I thought we had moved beyond this type of behavior in American society, but I guess I was wrong. We clearly have alot of work to do."

The Sun-Maid corporation made no formal statement to these charges, except that they would like to point out that they manufacture all different types of dried fruits. "What makes the raisin so special?" asked press agent Chuck Fulonuts.

The Raisins could not be reached for comment after the press conference.

Check out Photo-a-Day

I just ran across this guy's blog; he's a wedding photographer in California, but these are his own photographs which he's sharing online. Check out his blog here Definitely worth the visit.

That's M. Ward to you, buddy.

Matt Ward, of Portland, Oregan (Stage name M. Ward) recently opened for the White Stripes, and his music so intrigued me that I had to write about him. I had to! I must!

Matt Ward is the illegitimate love child of Johnny Cash and Les Claypool. An under-the-radar combination of Duane Eddy and the Presidents of the United States of America.
M. Ward's songs would commonly start with a rolling guitar riff (which he showed considerable proficiency in getting through) and would hit an uncommon stride of old-school trucker rock mixed with unexpected and blaring chord changes which keeps the ears on edge.
When M. Ward would lean into the microphone to sing, what came out was a low mumbling which reminds one of Brad Roberts whispering not-so-sweet nothings into the ear of a dump truck.

M. Ward's back-up band for the evening kept pace, but was definitely just observing the show alongside the audience. I am curious as to whether or not this was Ward's usual ensemble he performed with, because his music is never talked about in a group sense. Matt Ward shares the spotlight with no one. At least right now. And for right now, he should be happy to tour on a leg of the White Stripe's national tour, because I think he'll find a lot of similarly atuned fans in the audience that are ready to hear his music.

T.

Make Way for the world's only Hasidic Jewish Raggae Rapper!...that I know of.

But I'd say the chances are pretty good, huh?

Meet Matisyahu - a hip-hop artist straight from the streets of Israel. Not what you would normally expect.
Matisyahu is one of several new groups that I have been exposed to that I hope to talk about in the next couple of days. While I haven't yet seen Matisyahu, he is performing in Cleveland in November, and it should be a great show.

Matisyahu's sound is that of the traditional reggae artists, so with your eyes shut, you would never tell the difference save for Matisyahu's subject matter - break downs about the Torah and Jehovah. A bit of a departure from the rastified bong-hitting community that usually inhabits reggae music.
But what will really get your attention about Matisyahu is his appearance. He performs entirely in traditional orthodox Jewish clothing, complete with full beard and curls. All of this allows Matisyahu to blend in perfectly with his surroundings.

(pause for laughter)

Matisyahu has one studio album released, and also a brand new live album Live at Stubb's which as really helped spring-board Matisyahu's popularity, since much of his appeal (obviously) lies in his live shows.

My hope with Matisyahu and his work is that people will come to his work not only for the artistic validity of his work, but that they will pay attention to the words of his songs, which is what really sets him a part from other reggae acts. Certainly he will bring alot of people through the door to gawk at the spectacle, but let's hope they stay for something more.

T.

The Constant Evolution of the White Stripes' Image

See from beginning. . .





To today. . .

Quite a change, eh?

T.