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bonar crump

bonar crump
husband - father - reader - runner - picker - grinner - lover - sinner

Friday, March 18, 2011

I love me some Foo...





When it comes to using his band's songs on 'Glee,' the Foos frontman sides with Kings of Leon and Slash in the licensing battle.

Don’t count on hearing the Foo Fighters hit “Times Like These” on Glee anytime soon. Frontman Dave Grohl says he and his bandmates are squarely in the corner of Kings of Leon and Slash. As in, they want no part of the Ryan Murphy-helmed show.
“It’s every band’s right, you shouldn’t have to do f---ing Glee,” Grohl told THR following the premiere of Foo Fighters: Back and Forth, the new Foo Fighters documentary which just made its South By Southwest debut. “And then the guy who created Glee is so offended that we’re not, like, begging to be on his f---ing show… f--- that guy for thinking anybody and everybody should want to do Glee.”
 
You might be wondering, has Grohl ever actually watched the show? As it turns out, yes, he gave Glee a whirl. “I watched 10 minutes. It’s not my thing,” Grohl grizzled. But he doesn’t have as much of a problem with the series as he does with its creator. 
 
Recounting anti-Glee comments made by Slash earlier this year and subsequent retorts by Murphy, reported by THR, Grohl explained to drummer Taylor Hawkins: “The Glee guy, what a f---ing jerk. Slash was the first one. He wanted to do Guns ‘n’ Roses and Slash is like, ‘I hate f---ing musicals. It’s worse than Grease.’ Then [Murphy's] like, ‘Well, of course he’d say that, he’s a washed up ol’ rock star, that’s what they f---ing do.’ And then Kings of Leon say, ‘No, we don’t want to be on your show.’ And then he’s like, ‘Snotty little assholes…’ And it’s just like, Dude, maybe not everyone loves Glee. Me included.”
 
Said Hawkins: “Yeah, f--- that shit.”
 

Redemptive Poetry on a Night of Violence

by Bart Campolo 
Red Letter Christians 

It is Sunday night, and I am suddenly awake at the crack of too-close gunfire. I creep to the window without turning on the light, more curious than afraid until I remember I don’t know if my daughter Miranda and her friends are home from their movie. Looking out, I see three men spread out in the backyard we share with Ric and Karen, one moving slowly past the patio furniture where we had Sabina’s 7th birthday party that afternoon, the other two crouched by the trampoline my son Roman and his football buddies slept out on last week. Strangers in our space, clearly visible in the moonlight, probably carrying guns.

~ ~ ~

Those lousy ghetto bastards — my exact words at 2 a.m. — brought their ignorant violence into our yard on purpose. They weren’t running away from anything. They had a plan. They brought an audience. I don’t know their names, of course, but I know them just the same, because once they get that careless, they are all the same. Before I can stop myself, I hope aloud that they drive themselves off a bridge before they make any more babies. Across the room, Marty wonders aloud what happened to the kind and hopeful man who brought her to this place four years ago, in the name of Love. Finally, we turn on the light and call Miranda. Until she gets home, there is no use trying to sleep.

~ ~ ~
And suddenly, just as suddenly as those gunshots awakened me, I too don’t want to end up simply having visited this world, or even this neighborhood. I don’t want to end up angry or bitter. No, I want to believe in my heart that each life, and each name, and each body is indeed something precious, both to God and to me. I want to remarry amazement.