In Fritz Lang’s 1927 opus, this line is the refrain. It is the first line, it is the last line, and it hangs over the entirety of the film. It’s a simple metaphor, obvious even. The head is the leadership, be it government or corporations; the hands are the workers that put the head’s plans into action.

The heart is someone who understands both the leadership and the workers and shows them the way to coexist. If the heart is good, the head and the hands can work together and do amazing things. If the heart is corrupt, the head and the hands will destroy each other and anything they had previously built together. Simple enough.

On Friday night, I saw the newly restored version of Metropolis at the Coolidge Corner Theater with live accompaniment. With 25 minutes of footage added, it is the most complete version to exist since it’s original release. There are still some missing scenes (only about 5 minutes worth or footage is still missing), but the film is now more or less intact.

Perhaps it was seeing it complete for the first time; perhaps it was seeing it surrounded by hundreds of Boston’s Own Very Liberal Elite ®; perhaps it was simply seeing it now as opposed to 4 years ago, but watching Metropolis on Friday night, I couldn’t help but see how much it parallel’s the American political climate for the last year or so.

Let me explain: for those of you who haven’t seen it, Metropolis tells the story of Freder, son of the leader of the urban utopia that lends the film its title, and Maria, a lovely school teacher from the working class. Freder sees Maria while frolicking in the Eternal Gardens, which are pretty much what you’d expect them to be (if you hadn’t noticed by now, Lang and Thea von Harbou, his wife and writer of the screenplay/novel, weren’t exactly subtle about their themes here), and follows her into the worker’s city, deep below the sprawling perfection that runs on the tasks the men who live and work perform.

What Freder sees in this underworld shocks him. The workers are destitute and beatific, the conditions dangerous, and the hours long. He did not know that such horrible things went in to his most simple pleasures. He is so moved, he decides to trade positions with a worker for the day, and after a grueling shift, he goes to a secret meeting in the catacombs led by Maria, who repeats the heart and hands metaphor, and after the meeting, realizes the Freder is the Heart that she needs.

Unfortunately, Joh Frederson, Freder’s father and the Head in our epigraph, witnesses this meeting, thanks to his father-in-law, the prototypical mad scientist Rotwang. With a name like Rotwang, you can guess that this guy is no Errol Flynn. Rotwang has designed a magnificent robot in the image of his dead daughter Hel, and with Frederson, he plots to disguise the robot as Maria to quash the worker uprising. Little does Frederson know that Rotwang wants to do much more than that. He wants to destroy everything Frederson has: his city, his life, and most of all, his son.

Rotwang kidnaps Maria and disguises his “machine-man” in her image. The evil Maria first seduces the Metropolis elite as an erotic dancer, corrupting them into acts of violence in her name. Convinced of Maria’s sexual power, Frederson sends her into the depths of the catacombs to lead the workers astray.

Of course, instead of ending the rebellion, Maria incites the workers to destroy the machines that enslave them. The bad part? Destroying the Heart Machine (so subtle) floods the worker city and halts the Metropolis above. The good part? Every worker, man and woman, has escaped the worker city to the surface to tear it down. Oh wait, that’s also a bad part, because in all their fury, they forgot about their children.

Now, I’m going to leave off the rest of the story, since I don’t want to spoil any acts of derring-do for anyone who hasn’t seen it, and this is as far into the plot as I need to explain to you why Metropolis matters today as much as it did in 1927.

There is a line, spoken by the appropriately named Grot, guardian of the Heart Machine, which particularly struck me. He looks out at the crowd of workers, just broken from their hysteria when he told them that their children, to his knowledge, had been drowned in the workers’ city below. “Who told you to attack the machines, you idiots?” He says via title card, “Without them you’ll all die!”

This line, I think, gets to the heart of Metropolis, and applies to the world we live in today. With so many people complaining about taxes and the strength of the federal government in America today, people often lose sight of the fact that without taxes, without a strong government, we may not all die, but we will certainly be sacrificing a lot more than a portion of our paychecks every week (it doesn’t hurt that the next title card refers to the evil Maria as “the witch”. A witch/android who leads a group in irrational reactionary rebellion with a pretty face and misinformation…hmm…sounds kind of familiar to me).

At the same time, there needs to be balance. The workers strike too quick against the autocrats above and risk losing everything, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that their argument isn’t valid. The two sides: Joh Frederson, the head, and Grot, the hands, need Freder, the heart, to bring them together. Their destructive, violent tendencies nearly lead to their own destruction, but oppression can’t stand either.

Metropolis, as great works of art tend to do, reflects the viewer’s era. It is universal, and is therefore specific within each eye that beholds it. As I sat in that dark theater Friday night, listening to the Alloy Orchestra’s sound effects and score, I couldn’t help thinking of what we’ve seen on the news every night for the past 12 months, and that, perhaps, what we all need is a mediator.

If you read music magazines or websites, you’ll probably read a lot of tributes to Chilton in the next few days, mostly focusing on his music with The Box Tops and Big Star. I’ll leave that to them. Instead, I want to focus on what wouldn’t exist without Chilton. The bands he influenced were some of the best bands ever, and in turn influenced a whole other generation of bands who ended up taking over the world.

Big Star released 3 albums in their original form. The band matured with each album, and each album was influential in a different way. Here are just three examples out of a myriad.

1. #1 Record (1972)

Big Star’s debut album is a testament to the “power” in power-pop. The sweetness of the harmonies, the simplicity of the song structues, and the pure fun of the songs belie the fact that these songs are heavyweights. They aren’t just simple paeans to youth; they constitute an aural Dazed and Confused, looking back a little nostalgically while still understanding the importance kids put on everything that happens when they’re young.

This is represented best in the ballad “Thirteen”, perhaps Big Star’s most famous song:

One of the first bands to show their debt to Big Star openly was The Replacements. They would even include a song called “Alex Chilton” on their Pleased to Meet Me album. But Chilton’s influence can best be seen on their masterpiece, Let It Be. “Androgynous” is “Thirteen” for the next generation.

2. Radio City (1974)

Big Star’s second album saw a change in the band. Gone were the sweet, nostalgic songs, replaced by more mature songs. Still sublimely poppy, yet, like Pet Sounds or some of the better Carpenters songs, melancholy, maybe even spiteful at times.”September Gurls” seems excited and sad all at once.

Teenage Fanclub’s Bandwagonesque could practically be called a Big Star album by another band. The sweet sadness of “September Gurls” can be heard best in the lead-off track “The Concept”.

3. Third/Sister Lovers (1975)

The third album by Big Star is a mess. That’s the only way to accurately describe it. But when geniuses make a mess, it usually results in a masterpiece. As James Joyce said in Ulysses, “A man of genius makes no mistakes; his errors are volitional and are the portals of discovery.” That statement makes a lot of sense in regards to Third/Sister Lovers. It’s the sound of a band falling apart. Hell, they couldn’t even pick a single title to give the album. The music is decadent, layered, messy, and beautiful.

Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is, in a lot of ways, a snapshot of a band in a similar situation. If you’ve ever seen the great documentary about the making of this album, I Am Trying To Break Your Heart, you know that the band was working against their label and against each other, and what came out was nothing short of a masterpiece. The process wasn’t the only similarity. The album sounds similar. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is more controlled, sedate, and rooted, but the insanity still lurks beneath the surface.

These are just three examples of the influence Chilton had. Just with Big Star, he influenced hundreds of bands, and I haven’t even discussed The Box Tops. The world lost a great artist on Wednesday, and he will be missed by music fans everywhere.

The critical and commercial love for (most) of this music was completely justified. The albums released by Animal Collective, Dirty Projectors, Grizzly Bear, and Sunset Rubdown (among others) were not only their most accessible; they were also their best.

As such, 2009 was a pretty amazing year for music if you know where to look. Any year in which albums by Neko Case, The Thermals, (MF) DOOM, Wilco, Jay Z, the Decemberists, P.O.S.,  and one of the greatest indie compilations in recent memory, Dark Was The Night, are outside the top 10 is most likely an incredibly solid year. Since this is the case, I’m sure most of you will disagree with a lot of my picks. It’s only natural. I’m always open for discussion, so feel free to leave a comment.

(Quick note: a few of the albums listed have made waves on many other Top 10 lists. I’ve only included short entries for some of these albums, since most of what I’d say about these albums has been said already)

The Top 10:

1.

Sunset Rubdown, Dragonslayer

Unlike Spencer Krug’s other band, Wolf Parade, who sometimes seem to be living in the past (if living very well), Sunset Rubdown seems to embrace the past only as the memories behind their eyes, which remain fixed firmly on the horizon ahead of them. Influences can be heard, of course, but instead of imitation, they specialize in advancement.

Dragonslayer may be their biggest step yet. Each song is manic, jumping from the mellow to the insane, rarely with any build-up. For example, “Black Swan” starts off with lyrics over simple percussion, then launches quickly into a proggy chorus, backed by keyboard passages, then into experimental feedback solos. And that’s just the first 3 minutes.

2.

Animal Collective, Merriweather Post Pavilion

The words “pop sensibility” have seldom required such a wide definition as they do when applied to Merriweather Post Pavilion. The album isn’t exactly what the average listener would call “pop”. Animal Collective didn’t exactly start playing Taylor Swift songs here.

But I can’t help but think that if Brian Wilson made Pet Sounds today, it would sound more than a bit like this. The music is challenging and bizarre, yet wholly listenable. As with Pet Sounds, their most daring decisions seem to make the most sense.

3.

Dirty Projectors, Bitte Orca

Bitte Orca is the sonic equivalent of the X-Men. The question is whether it’s the next step in the evolution of rock and roll, or a freak to be weeded out by natural selection. In my opinion, it’s the former.

4. Japandroids, Post-Nothing

Yes. The Japandroids debut is that good. 8 songs of insane rock fury in under 36 minutes; you just don’t see this kind of album anymore. Each song has a focus and an intensity which is rarely heard even from experienced bands. The simplicity of the songs is hidden by the sound of Brian King’s guitar, drowned in distortion over David Prowse’s precise, booming drums. And no, unfortunately, the drummer did not play Darth Vader.

5.

Brother Ali, Us

To make an original statement in a genre which may have peaked more than 15 years ago, Brother Ali takes hip hop back to where it all started. “Brothers and Sisters” foreshadows what’s to come. Over the course of the next 15 tracks, starting with the ecstatic “The Preacher”, Brother Ali takes us on a tour of hip hop as soul. Hip hop fans looking for the next great MC would be wise to pay attention to Brother Ali, who is set to bring rap into its fourth decade.

6.

Dinosaur Jr, Farm

“Black Flag or a lot of the bands that were popular from that period had songs that you really loved, but they didn’t really touch you in a personal, emotional way the way that a lot of J’s early stuff did,” says Lee Ranaldo about Dinosaur Jr’s J Mascis in Our Band Could Be Your Life. The question a statement like that brings up is: Will a band 10 years ahead of their time still sound fresh 25 years later? Can a band that stood out in the 80s still stand out in the post-Nirvana music scene, where even bands like Metallica, who once skewed emotion, have injected their songs with a dose of vulnerability?

Luckily, the reunion of J Mascis, Low Barlow and Murph timed their comeback at a time when indie rock could use a healthy jolt of power from one of its true pioneers. Dinosaur Jr avoids all the lazy puns that would have inevitably shown up in countless reviews had their newest album (following 2007′s very good Beyond) had they not made a step forward with their music and made one of the greatest guitar albums in years.

7.

Sonic Youth, The Eternal

After years of nixing their signature mix of distortion, noise and feedback for experiments in a cleaner, quiter sound on very good albums such as Murray Street, Rather Ripped and especially Sonic Nurse, Sonic Youth bring back the insanity with The Eternal. In the 14 years since 1995′s Washing Machine, their last truly great noisy album, they haven’t lost a step. Songs like “Sacred Trickster” and “Calming the Snake” would easily fit in on Sister or Goo, while the coda on the blistering, booming “Anti-Orgasm” (the best song here) shows they can emerge from the depths just as easily and fluidly as they plumbed them.

8.

Phoenix, Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix

There were better albums than Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix this year, but I’d be hard-pressed to call any album this year more likable.

9.

Raekwon, Only Built 4 Cuban Linx…Part 2

One need only hear “House of Flying Daggers” to know that Raekwon is not going to just make another Only Built 4 Cuban Linx. Instead he enlists a slew of some of the greatest producers to provide textures over which Raekwon, Ghostface, and various other members of the Wu-Tang Clan flow. With the RZA and Dr. Dre laying down beats on some of the best tracks, one can’t help but lapse into nostalgia for the golden age of hip hop.

10.

The xx, xx

Another debut in a strong year for new bands that provide me with a lot of hope for the next ten years, xx is made up of deadpan pop songs. The album doesn’t really ever rock, instead every song is a different kind of mellow. Sometimes lightly danceable, other times creepily expansive, xx manages to sound cohesive without being stuck on a single note.

Honorable Mention:

I love all these albums, as well. If you ask me next week, some of these albums will probably be on my top 10 of 2009 list, but for tonight, they have to deal with honorable mention.

Neko Case, Middle Cyclone

The Antlers, Hospice

The Pains of Being Pure At Heart, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart

The Thermals, Now We Can See

Art Brut, Art Brut Vs. Satan

DOOM, Born Like This

White Rabbits, It’s Frightening

Various Artists, Dark Was The Night

P.O.S., Never Better

Jaydiohead, Jaydiohead

Girls, Album

Animal Collective, Fall Be Kind EP

Overrated:

Grizzly Bear, Veckatimest

Yes. This is a “Great” album. And a beautiful album. And it is a big step forward for Grizzly Bear. And it’s garnered heaps of critical attention. But the the fact of the matter is, it just sort of puts me to sleep. I loved it the first time I listened to it, but each subsequent listening has result in diminishing rewards. While albums like Merriweather Post Pavilion and Bitte Orca have gotten more and more interesting after repeated listens, Veckatimest has just gotten real old, real fast.

Underrated:

Rain Machine, Rain Machine

Wilco, Wilco (The Album)

The Decemberists, The Hazards of Love

Jay Z, The Blueprint 3

Mission of Burma, The Sound, the Speed, the Light

Rising Star:

Kid Sister

Who would think a song about nail salons could be so good? Kid Sister released Ultraviolet this year, and it’s one of the most diverse albums in mainsteam rap from the past year. And beyond that, it’s just plain fun.

I still don’t know what “A Coca-Cola shake with an onion in the back” means, though.

(Thanks to those commenters who pointed out that I’d listed Spencer Krug’s other band as Wolfmother when I first posted. Of course, Spencer Krug is not in Wolfmother. That would be weird.)

Graffiti is, to me, an interesting issue, and one about which I have spent some time arguing with myself. When Shepherd Fairey was arrestedin Boston in February, I defended the actions of the Boston Police, because Fairey was wanted and they knew where he would be. Graffiti is, after all, illegal.

Of course, at the same time, there’s a big difference between this:

And this:

While I consider the first to be a work of art, the second is a work of pornography. While, in many ways, the same impulse drives the two paintings, Fairey articulates a message using symbolism and shared experience while the author of the second painting attempts to revolt his audience. Of course, in both cases, I am stating my own opinion, and it’s completely possible that any given person would disagree on one or both counts.

The Massachusetts state government obviously disagrees with me in regards to the first painting. Whether the artist considers it art or not, the government considers all graffiti to be the same, which, for their  purposes, is perfectly reasonable.  So it only makes sense that they would arrest Fairey.

Of course, it’s also perfect reasonable to make the argument that the Boston Police Department could have spent their time and money on arresting someone guilty of something with a far worse effect on society than a couple of old cases of iconic graffiti, like drug dealers, murderers, and other serious offenders. This argument is completely sound, and I agree with it as much as I agree that the BPD wasn’t wrong to arrest Fairey.

What I’m trying to write about here is the idea that graffiti can be art, not whether it should be legal or not, but the fact of the matter is that the two questions are intertwined. If graffiti were legalized, would the works of Fairey and Banksy still be considered art, or would they merely be another part of urban life, like pigeons on sidewalks or goose shit in public parks?

Fairey and Banksy both operate in a mindset of guerilla art. What they do is artistic not only because of the beauty of the images they create, but because they create them as an act of trasgression against societal norms.

Seeing Andre the Giant’s face and the word “Obey” stamped over and over again underneath an advertisement for the MBTA wouldn’t have quite the same impact if we were used to such incongruities in daily life. If Banksy’s stenciled rats climbing on the walls of London were everyday occurances, they wouldn’t send as strong a message.

Great art, to me, is in many ways, circumstantial. It has as much to do with context as it has to do with content. If someone were to paint something as artistically precise and proficient as the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel or Las Meninas, it would be largely ignored, because those were paintings of their eras. If Picasso created Guernica today, it would be considered passé. It could be said that anyone could make a Jackson Pollack painting, but only Pollack had the idea and the guts to make it. These are some of the greatest works of art of all time, yet if they were created today, they would at best be considered aesthetically proficient.

The same could be said for Fairey and Banksy. While their paintings are beautiful in their own right, they probably wouldn’t change the world of art in any other context. The illegality of their art is their art. As they are, I consider them great artists. However, as their art reaches larger audiences, and becomes less outsider art and more museum art (I suppose I should say if this happens), the images they create will begin to lose their meanings.

Horrible Band #1: Modern Day Slave

Website: www.myspace.com/ModernDaySlave

M.O.: Their guitarist plays a Confederate flag guitar. They cover Salt N’ Pepa’s “Push It”. They recently “took a 14 hour drive to NYC to show them fuckers what was up”.

About section that is funny enough to let it speak for itself: “Modern Day Slave” refers to the present day form of slavery of which we all are a part of. We’re slaves to our jobs, slaves to our government, slaves to our credit cards, and to our mortgages. We have let the things we own own us, and as a result have sacrificed our freedom. Originally formed in 2004, Modern Day Slave has been rock’n the scene ever since. Coming from humble backgrounds, Fontane, T.J., Niles, Dustin and Nick know what its like to work hard, fight, and survive and it shows. With ToneBound Studios and Krane Entertainment now in their arsenal, the skies the limit. I use the myspace layout generator at UltimateMySpace.com.”

Verdict: The skies truly the limit.

Horrible Band # 2: Brokencyde

Website: www.myspace.com/brokencyde

M.O.: Sometime in the past 5-10 years, 4 douchebaggy, date-rapist-esque guys from “Albucrazy, New Mexico” decided that what shitty mainstream hip-hop needed to reach the next level was shitty emo-core screaming and a guy with a faux-hawk. They also figured it’d be a cool move to cover “Low” by Flo Rida. Be careful, their MySpace page may cause you to shoot people from the top of a clock tower.

List of band members that’s funny enough to let it speak for itself:

“Se7en – Lyrixxx/Screams/Gangster Raps/Production
Mikl – Vocals/Hypeman
Phat J – Synths/Back-Up Vox/Growls/Raps
Antz – Lights!!!/Fog/DMX”

Verdict: They have someone devoted to European booking. Next time someone tries to tell you Europeans have better taste than Americans, remind that person of this fact.

Horrible Band #3: Eyes Set to Kill

(Yes, Eyes Set to Kill)

(Ugh. It takes a bad name to top Brokencyde)

Website: www.myspace.com/eyessettokill

M.O.: Their album is available at all Hot Topic stores and they’re on the same label as Brokencyde. Both those facts are appropriate because their music sounds like the contents of a Hot Topic store decided came to life and started playing instruments.

Blog post and lyrics that are funny enough to let them speak for themselves:

“Title: lyrics for ‘Heights’

Body: hey everyone! hope you all like the new song “heights”! we are playing it on the next 2 tours so i thought i would write up the lyrics for any of you rad people that want to know them in a nutshell, this song is about being brought down, making the best out of a bad situation, and turning it into something positive

here it is…

look through my eyes
i have arrived, and now i’m on the rise
watch the tables, watch the tables as they turn
this is a lesson i know you’ll never learn
i know you’ll never learn…

there’s something running through my blood, takes hold of me
it’s taking me to heights you’ll never see
yeah i’m your wildest dream
there’s something disturbing your sleep
well now you’ll see
nothing’s ever what it seems to be, now i’m all that you bleed

make no mistake
forget my name, you know you wish you could
i’m a nightmare, see me while you toss and turn
i am the lesson, i know you’ll never learn
i know you’ll never learn…

you better believe that you can see me now
i’m on the top of the highest building, and you’re still on the ground
at any minute this could all collapse, and i could come back down
but i’m living in the moment…
i’ll savor it for now

these are the heights i know you’ll never see
these are the heights

i hope you all dig it, see ya on tour!
<3 brandon/ ESTK”

Verdict: BreakSilence Recordings: the Soundtrack to 1999, Today!

Horrible Band #4: COLOSSICK

Website: www.myspace.com/colossick

M.O.: Sponsored by Jagermeister and No Fear Energy Drinks! Now I know where they got their name.

List of bands that Colossick has opened for that is funny enough to let it speak for itself: “COLOSSICK has participated in several festivals, competitions, and opened up or shared the stage with tons of great bands including Stuck Mojo, Ill Nino, Six Feet Under, Byzantine, Hatebreed, Type O Negative, 3 Inches of Blood, Halo of Locusts, Artymus Pyledriver, Kicking K8, Intethod, Liquid Violence, Noxious, Souls Harbor, Dear Enemy, Indorphine, Psychostick, Waited, Legion X, SMI, and so many others locally and regionally!”

Verdict: 10 bucks says they thought they’d hit the big time when they opened for Ill Nino.

Horrible Band #5: Liquid Violence

Website: www.myspace.com/liquidviolence

M.O.: When they drink, they like to get drunk. When they drink, they wanna fuck. They all have mohawks. They sing songs about drugs they’ve probably never done before.

Incongruous comment on their page that is funny enough to stand on its own: Apr 29 2009 7:56 AM

Hi LIQUID VIOLENCE, how are you?
Passing by to spread some MySpace love!!

NEW SONG ON MY PAGE!!

Love Generation RMX by Peter Owen

http://myspace.com/peterowenmusic

PLEASE COMMENT. TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!!

Verdict: they describe themselves as “Visual/Down-Tempo/Religious”. Jesus wants you to turn the other cheek when you encounter liquid violence.

These are only five of the myriad horrible bands on MySpace. Happy Hunting!

I remember one Friday over the Summer (July 24th, 2008, to be exact), I was reading the A.V. Club reviews, and I came across a film which I had never heard of. This isn’t unusual. I’m not a professional critic, I don’t live in New York or Los Angeles, and I don’t go to film festivals, so occasionally, I miss the buzz (or lack of buzz) about a small film with a limited release. This movie was called Baghead, and my attention was grabbed by the picture that accompanied the review. It showed a middle-aged man without a shirt waving with a plain brown paper grocery bag over his head.

What the hell was this movie about? Why was the man waving? Why is he shirtless? These questions popped into my head as soon as I saw that picture, and I knew that I wanted to see it. It got a B+ review from the A.V. Club, whose reviews I usually trust, since they’ve rarely misled me, and I decided I was going to see it.

Baghead fared well with most critics. On metacritic, it has a 62 rating, which isn’t bad, but doesn’t exactly jump off the screen at you. On Rotten Tomatoes, it has a 77% fresh rating, which, again, isn’t bad. In the court of public opinion, however, it’s fared much worse. On IMDB, it has a user rating of 5.8; on Metacritic, 4.5; on Rotten Tomatoes, users rated it 51% fresh. Chances are, we won’t be seeing midnight showings of Baghead popping up in nearby cities anytime soon.

What makes Baghead so bizarre and different is that it doesn’t choose a genre. It starts off as a film about the creative process, telling the story of 4 out of work actor friends, two male, two female, who travel to a remote cabin to work on a screenplay. Once they get to the cabin, it becomes an interesting relationship drama about a love quadrangle that is more deft than almost any romantic comedy released in the past 10 years.

The most interesting switch, though, is the last one. When Michelle, the mutual love interest of the two male characters, wakes up in the middle of the night to get sick outside after a night of heavy drinking, she sees a man in a sweatshirt running through the surrounding woods with a brown bag on his head. She wakes up the next morning thinking it was a dream, which she tells the rest of the group, who decide to use the Baghead character to make a horror movie. But was it a dream? Or is there really a man in the woods stalking them while he wears a bag to hide his identity?

To shift from a film about filmmaking to a romantic drama is not that much of a jump. Federico Fellini’s 8 1/2 made a similar jump in 1964. Preston Sturges’ Sullivan’s Travels did it 23 years before that. But to make another shift to a genre as incongruous as a slasher film is nearly unheard of.

Not only is it refreshingly original, but it is handled amazingly well. The small cast and isolated location work towards creating a feeling of claustrophobia, and the camera angles the Duplass brothers, who directed, choose make the watcher feel not only like the characters are being stalked, but as if there is someone waiting outside the window, watching him/her. To shift genres several times is something that must be earned by a filmmaker, and with Baghead, it is.

While Baghead won’t change the world of filmmaking, it is an original, interesting piece of work that I hope someday will be seen by some enterprising young filmmaker who utters the four magic words: “I could do that”.

My boss just asked me which was more acceptable to do while sitting on a toilet in a public restroom: talking on a cell phone or texting. I do not have an answer.

2

Every night after work, I walk a mile from Northeastern University to Back Bay Station in Boston. Most nights, I give a dollar to the same homeless man. I do this to reward him for adapting to the brave new world in which we all reside.

I have an intense fear of giving a dollar to a person I think is homeless, but is really just a guy with a beard, or an old woman wearing an old coat who enjoys pushing shopping carts around the streets of the city. I usually remedy this problem by giving money only to those who ask for it vocally. If I see an old man sitting on the steps, I walk by without reaching into my pocket. But, if the old man asks if I have any change, he’ll get it (if I have any on me).

But the world has changed, my friends. Most nights I walk the streets listening to music, blocking out the noise of the city. How am I supposed to give to those I cannot hear?

The answer is this man. He sits in the same spot, every night, on two milk crates which have been left there. Around his neck hangs a white cardboard sign pleading “Help a Homeless”. He has adapted to the fast-paced, isolationist world of iPods and business suits.

3

It’s no longer rare, on the train, to hear people laughing wildly at nothing at all.

4

This morning, I stood at the Framingham Commuter Rail stop. I listened to Alien Lanes by Guided by Voices, and watched as a Seagull flew above me, it’s wings beating in the same rhythm as the music.

5

7 or 8 months ago, when George Carlin died, I found out via text message.

6

On Friday, a fire engine lost control and crashed into the side of a building about 2 miles from where I work. As I walked toward the train station, I looked back to see the news helicopters hovering over the crash like vultures, not trying to help, just trying to leech a story from a tragedy. I’ve always been sympathetic to journalists, but for some reason this sight filled me with anger and guilt.

7

There are construction workers working on Fenway Park. I walk past them every cold morning, embarassed by how poorly I have adapted to the cold, while they work for hours upon end in the snow and wind.

This morning, as I walked by, it was snowing. A worker passed me, walking slowly with a dazed look on his face. It almost seemed like he had combat fatigue. This somehow made me feel better.

8

I watched the sun rise this morning the same way Cézanne saw Mont-Sainte. Victoire: from the window of a speeding train.

9

I also caught myself laughing out loud at nothing at all this morning.

10

I’m beginning to suspect that the homeless man I give my money to most nights isn’t really homeless. I peeked into his cart, and he has several items a homeless man wouldn’t be able to afford.

11

Walking by Fenway on Ipswich Street on a particularly icy day, I saw a woman fall and break her arm. For a moment, I thought she was trying to make a snow angel.

2.) You only begin to realize the immensity of space and the fact that most of what you once considered to be a meaningful universe is a vacuum of absolute nothingness before your head explodes, killing you and ruining an otherwise pleasant breakfast with your wife.

3.) “Oh, that Ku Klux Klan…”

4.) The Spanish Inquisition teaches you a lesson about time travel you unfortunately will be unable to share.

5.) The snow fell softly from the sky, which had turned a soft off-white color that is never seen unless it is snowing. Your ruminations on this beautiful moment distract you from the errant snowplow headed straight for the window you’re standing in.

6.) Cruelty to animals is fun until you are cruel to an animal much bigger than you.

7.) It doesn’t matter how you die, it will be much worse if you are listening to Journey.

8.) Rube Goldberg was designing a complex killing machine at the time of his death. You decide to put these plans into action, and as you kick the dictionary holding the leg of the table up, causing a small marble to roll through a complex series of tunnels, which then pushes over a small hammer that knocks cracks an egg, which in turn falls into a frying pan, shifting a set of scales just enough to release a spinning razor blade aimed right at your jugular, you realize why no one tried this one before.

9.) 500-pound gorillas just assume that you are not happy to see them, and that is, in fact, a banana in your pocket.

10.) The makers of your newly-bought Roomba didn’t see the point in making it obey Asimov’s Three Laws of Robotics.

11.) Just because it’s called solid waste doesn’t mean it’s impossible to drown in it.

12.) No matter what the owner of the German sex club tells you, lit sticks of dynamite do not make good sex toys.

13.) You hoped for a New Testament version of God, but it turns out that Judaism got it right.

14.) Rectal Prolapse: rectal: (rek’ tel) adj. of, for, or near the rectum; prolapse: (pro’ laps) noun. the falling down or slipping of a body part from its usual position or relations.

15.) The majestic walrus has chosen you as his new mate.