I don’t know why, but Magic Man has been getting a bit of airplay recently. It’s about time this 70s classic got it’s time in the sun. It reminded me of when I was a teenager. I liked 90s Alternative, because, well, it was the 90s. My parents were strict Roman Catholics, and hated my music because it was “evil”. Yet, they were perfectly fine if I liked music THEY liked. In some cases, it was fine. That’s how I found out about 10,000 Maniacs. Other times, it was… shall we say “hypofuckingcritical.” So let’s take a look at one of these instances. I remember getting Heart’s Greatest Hits, and…

As you may have noticed, I have a new domain, chrisdantes.com. Did I sell my website? Nope. I legally changed my name. I’d like to explain why.

I’ve been meaning to post this for a while, but after Chester Bennington died, even I thought it was too soon. The sad reality, though, is that talking about suicide is kind of like talking about gun laws. If the rule is that “you can’t talk about it shortly after an event”, then you’ll never talk about it. I’m guessing that almost everyone knew someone, or knows someone who knew someone who either killed themselves or, at least tried to do so.

I get a lot of hate for this, but I fucking can’t stand the homeless. I really can’t. They are aggressive, don’t have any boundaries, refuse to take “no” for an answer, and in many cases, are violent. One of the arguments I often hear is that they are human. Perhaps they were at one time, but once they’ve been infected, they change. As the South Park documentary, “Night of the Living Homeless” showed, they more resemble the undead.