Crackle, hands down

Howdy. I've been away from this baby for some time, leaving many of you faithful readers in the lurch, I'm sure. Yet, despite the presence of some pretty annoying law work, (the Rasputin-like open memo, just die will you!) and snow that won't melt (joke's over, ok?), it has been an exceptional week.

In other news, I finished my Bob Dylan book, which was great. It really reads like one long blog, jumping from place to place. He'll go from waking up to breakfast cooking in 1961 to having dinner with Bono (consisting of a case of Guiness) in 1987. It's interesting to hear the voice inside his head, which is about as straight-shootin' as you'd expect from the man. Although I am concerned that he harbours such a bitter resentment to Wilco for recording his idol's songs before he got the chance. I guess this rules out the possibility of any amazing Dylan-Tweedy collaborations.

I have a good choice to make before I tackle the next book. It's either my Roddy Doyle dysfunctional Irish-American immigrant novel, Jared Diamond's 500 page history of the world, (Guns, Germs & Steel) or this anchor of a British book Johnathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, which if I've heard correctly, is like Harry Potter for adults. Hell, I like H.Po anyway, so it should be quite "corking."

I've also been confronted with the fact that three bands I love are playing shows in Seattle soon. Choosing between the Kings of Leon, Interpol and Bright Eyes is like asking a five year old kid who he likes best amongst Snap, Crackle and Pop. But I have to give the edge to Mr. Oberst of Bright Eyes. I've been listening to his 2 new albums endlessly recently, and I think he'd just be too good to pass up. I'll make sure to grab some great concert photos if I go. Who am I kidding, I'll return with stupid tourist photos where it looks like I've just impaled myself on the Space Needle.