Results tagged “jesus”

Former Christ Jim Caviezel received minor injuries yesterday after being thrown from his motorcycle on I-97, all because some guy tossed a bicycle into his path. Caviezel was taken to Cascade Medical Center for treatment of cuts and bruises and was later released (thank God for his helmet). Washington State Troopers plan to forward their investigation to the Chelan County prosecutor's office for possible assault and reckless endangerment charges against a 42-year-old Wenatchee man, identified as David Nelson. There's no indication why Nelson threw the bike into the path of Caviezel's 2006 Harley Davidson, especially since it's common knowledge that nobody fucks with the Jesus.

Brooklyn trio A Place to Bury Strangers bills themselves as "the loudest band in New York," but that's not exactly true. A band's loudness is of course the product of several factors, the volume and intensity assuredly a function of the sound system every night they play, or the sound guy, or the venue itself. So perhaps it's more accurate to describe APtBS as "the effects-pedaliest band in New York" or "the My Bloody Valentiney-est band in New York." Because both of those claims are true, without a doubt.

From the real-life inspiration of Seattle-based writer and performer Joanna Horowitz comes 100 Heartbreaks, a story about country singer hopeful Charlane Tucker. Tucker, a self-proclaimed expert at hook-ups, break-ups and hangovers, is a regular girl who desperately wants to "make it" in the country music world. Her genius plan to get to Nashville: Find 100 men who will love and leave her.

Monday, Feb 4, 7pm

In news certain to impact hyper-literate Seattle hardest, Scrabulous seems to have been taken down by Facebook. We're hitting the Try Again button like meth-addled lab mice, but no dice so far.

We spotted an older Volvo sporting a "Nuke Gay Whales for Jesus" bumper sticker turning left onto Mercer Street in front of the newly remodeled Pagliacci on Lower Queen Anne this morning. We would have taken a picture but we were too busy shitting ourselves at the sight of the sticker to pull it together. Apologies all around.

For the tour, Ted Neeley is Jesus, as he was in the 1973 film. That means he's been playing Jesus for longer than Jesus did -- and, no disrespect intended, with more of a vocal range. (We don't recall any of the Gospels remarking on Jesus's top notes.) He's matched up against Corey Glover's Judas, who knows all about cults of personality.

"They should take off their left socks."

The local act opening for Dolan and Buck 65 was Rudy & the Rhetoric, now out on CD-R. They sound clean, rehearsed, and synthy; the MC (Rudy, we presume) looks freshly scrubbed and straight out of an Abercrombie & Fitch catalog, one of the outdoorsy pages, where the guys are fully clothed. We had no idea Ken dolls could rap, but he was pretty good, and the DJ (the Rhetoric?) did some cool scratching. Overall, they were surprisingly polished but we had a hard time taking them seriously, especially since the MC kept wincing at the crowd's lukewarm reception.

Seattle's known as one of the least-churched cities in the U.S. But consider this recent report from the Barna Group, which found that three out of every four American adults interpret literally the Bible story in which Jesus rises from the dead after being crucified and buried. The numbers are taken from a thousand-person telephone survey. There's some interesting poll information there, and some even more interesting commentary from the Barna Group ("Your partner for information, strategy, execution and transformation!" says their website):

A minority of the people who believe these stories to be true consistently apply the principles embedded in these stories within their own lives. It seems that millions of Americans believe the Bible content is true, but are not willing to translate those stories into action. Sadly, for many people, the Bible has become a respected but impersonal religious history lesson that stays removed from their life.

One way not to get Seattlest's vote is to endanger our life, like city council candidate Venus Velazquez did on Wednesday night while she was giving a whole new meaning to "Ballard drivers."

The Onion AV Club says Mudhoney's 1991 album Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge is worth a re-listen. Say they:

[EGBDF] came out two months before Nirvana's Nevermind—and in a sense, it's the Bizarro Nevermind ... Every Good Boy in hindsight sounds like the grunge that should've been: ratty, humble, punky, weird, and catchy without resorting to grunting machismo.

Friday night is jam-packed with music: local bad boys Pleasureboaters' all-ages CD release at the Vera Project, Justice's Jesus house party at Neumo's, and "an intimate solo performance and screening of the live concert DVD Circle of Friends" with old-timer Bob Mould at Chop Suey. Our money's on the punk-blues of Hillstomp at the Tractor.

(This story actually took place years ago but just came up in conversation recently and everyone at Seattlest realized it needs to be preserved here for posterity and for future historians to study...)

In April we asked our Bay Area sports correspondent Bob Arkansas to preview the AL West, now he's back to give his thought on Sunday's NFC Showdown.

Study up on Jesus.

Well, shit. This weekend has been kind of a bust for shows Seattlest was supposed to see. Friday night, we were supposed to go see Hillstomp at Conor Byrne. We thought we had seen them, and we thought they rocked our socks. Apparently, we saw Miss Mamie Lavona the Exotic Mulatta and Her White Boy Band.

The unfortunately named Grand Ole Party opened for Rilo Kiley Saturday night to an audience presumably not too familiar with their work. GOP have a strong, simple, raw kind of sound, not unlike White Stripes or Sweet 75, kind of directionless and inert, but impressive and energetic nonetheless. They ended the set with the first song on Humanimals, "Look Out Young Son," which after a couple of listens sounds like the strongest effort on the disc.

As we were saying, there's a lot more at Bumbershoot besides the music. You've got the comedy, the literature, the theatre, the dance -- and the people-watching, the sideshows, the side sideshows: yesterday we ran into Craig and Victoria doing a violin-and-flamenco act behind a tent; they say they'll be back today, roaming around, so look for a swirl of red.

But then Earlimart [MySpace] takes over, sounding like Grandaddy's Postal Service, with lush orchestration. And what's when we saw god, or Jesus, specifically. It was just one of those nights where you're feeling it, and you look around and everyone else has that same bright-eyed look, and then you see Jesus working on a plate of perfectly crispy Sichuan green beans, giving his server an A-OK sign. "7.2 on Pitchfork!" Jesus says. "I loves me my rainy-day pop!" Earlimart plays the romantic swoon "Answers and Questions" [over here], they play the uptempo "Everybody Knows Everybody," they make us all sigh miserably with "Don't Think About Me" -- they've got the knack down of kicking a song off with a quiet verse, then bringing in the drums. They're backed by the Dream String Team, giving them a big 9-piece sound. It's our companion's first time at the Triple Door, and she loves it -- "This is so fabulous," she says, bouncing a little on her seat. "Normally you're at a show and you're standing and you're mildly uncomfortable -- and that's not even counting this incredible freaking banana split!" (The secret is the gelato from Gelatiamo.) Earlimart nears the last song and Jesus hops up on his chair: "You're all coming with, come the Rapture! Anybody who missed tonight -- fuck 'em!" Which, as we thought about it, was no more arbitrary than other religious proclamations, but the waitstaff makes him get back down and we notice they won't refill his wine glass, even after he waves it upside down conspicuously. Still, the announcement makes the encore particularly sweet -- Earlimart don't even make us wait that long before trooping back out.

The Columbia Journalism Review has our number. It's not actually true that Baby Einstein videos "suck the vocabulary out of your kid's brain." Wea culpa.

As noted previously, we're fans of the Uptight Seattleite persona because it seems to be gloriously, teeth-grindingly true. The Weekly's incarnation makes us laugh every so often, but the best gut-punch comes when we run across someone's real-life experience.

Jesus, this is embarrassing. Bastille Day celebrates the liberation of a particularly pungent batch of cheese from the dungeons of the old prison in 1789 (along with seven prisoners) on the 14th of July (le Quatorze). Except here -- where as usual we're a day late and a euro short -- the Seattle Bastille Day festivities are being held on Sunday the 15th at the Seattle Center. What fun is that? The ideal would be to get loaded to the gills on Saturday and roll out for a late, late brunch on Sunday.

--Is there a street sign out there with your name on it?

Like a chorus of howls at the moon, there’s a rumor going around that one-time absolutely incredible super-band Temple of the Dog will reunite for a Seattle show. Next month. People are already begging for tickets on Craigslist.

Before she came out, walked to center stage and stole our hearts, we were lucky to have made it to the Moore in time to catch the last couple songs from the ex Moldy Peaches guitarist, Only Son. Actually it was more like two songs and a story. A story put to music, told pretty much off-the-cuff and in the first-person about a guy in a grocery store. He sees a girl. She's cute, but he's insecure and awkward and thinks maybe he should avoid the inevitable crushing rejection and just go home to his ever-loving and non-judgmental video games. It could have been one of those you-had-to-be-there moments to really appreciate it, but Only Son (Jack Dishel) was funny and charming and talented enough to win us over.

Well, in case you missed the paper, the television, and all the blogs in the world last week, Sanjaya is off American Idol. When Ellen Degeneres asked him on her Monday show who his favorite is to win Idol this year, he dodged it awkwardly by saying Ellen is his favorite.

Through May 6, tickets $10-$48

Kurt Vonnegut, up there with Twain and Melville and Kesey as the most original American novelists ever in the history of writing stuff, died tonight. He was 84. He'd been in the hospital since a fall a couple of weeks ago. Attention kids: this is what happens if you chain-smoke for 73 years.

Explosive Norwegian electro-rock quartet 120 Days name such varied influences as the Jesus and Mary Chain, Primal Scream, Neu!, David Bowie, Spacemen 3, and Kraftwerk. So you know that their sound is big, the songs are epic, and the beat is driving. 120 Days will bring their wall of noise to Neumo's next Tuesday (opening for Ratatat--now that's a doubleheader), and Seattlest has a pair of tickets to give away. Enter your name and email below for your chance to win. The lucky winner will be notified on Monday.