August 22nd, 2005

i am not a stuffed tiger.

following the rules: the day the funerals died

I think there is some sort of law for people who have weblogs or internet journals to make a post to say that they did or did not watch the final episode of Six Feet Under last night on HBO. To keep the authorities at bay, I will now reveal that I watched it and thought that it was pretty good and that the last ten minutes were kind of weird but not completely unexpected given the history of the series.

That said, the extra fifteen minutes is bound to overshadow the hour of really nice work that came before them. Mostly, because I think that the final sequence raised unreliable narrator issues instead of providing closure, which may or may not have been the intention.

update: maybe or maybe not. Heather Havrilesky's interpretation was the same as mine [salon], but there are obituaries on the official site [hbo]. hmm.

New Pornography is very popular in seattle.

After pub quiz I decided to make a trip to Sonic Boom, even though no one else wanted to go. Something about having bedtimes or morning meetings. Still, a free show and an opportunity to take the bus from the U-district to Ballard was too much to resist. Being in transit is pretty great, especially when you have a book or other distractions.

Outside the store, there was a gigantic line heading West from the store's entrance and a crowd of people arranged in semi-semi-circular rows on the East side. Walking to the back of the line seemed futile; so I waited on the other side until the owner told us that the store was full so we might as well just crowd around the doors. This was a genius plan because it was then easy to walk inside and not feel like the sort of person who cuts in line.

As expected, the band was typically poppy and excellent. The downside was that Neko Case appeared to be absent and she is really the best part of the New Pornographers as far as I'm concerned. Watching them perform, I also wonder if Carl Newman got into singing as a way of minimizing a minor speech impediment. This information is probably available somewhere. On this little adventure I also think about how much I like Seattle's geekiness. On the bus over, there's a guy studying some pretty serious graphs in a textbook and inside the store there's a girl with a clipboard with printouts about a NASA planetary rover. I think it will be hard to find a better bookish place to live.

After the set, the store's employees start selling $10 CDs in an incredibly organized frenzy of cash transactions. With all of the people packed into the store, I wonder if any (or how many) CDs get stolen during this sort of event.

After a few minutes it seemed that people have cleared out so I went back inside with the intention of looking at and possibly purchasing more music, but it's still crowded with the lingering smell of sweaty people and I am even happier that I watched the show from a few steps inside the door.