many of you may have seen the new Ford commercial featuring an awesomely-rocking little song playing in the background.  that song is called “Red Morning Light”, and the band playing that song are the Kings of Leon.  the song is from their debut album, “Youth and Young Manhood”.

if you read this blog at all, you’ll know i’m a huge fan, and i just think these guys don’t get the fan recognition that they should, considering the amount of critical acclaim they get.

here’s a little video of the song (they’ve gotten considerably less “shaggy” since then…much to the dismay of my wife).

I was just informed by my lovely wife that a young poet from Chicago has chosen her as the Best Poet of 2007.

On his website, SugarSkullParade, he talks about her poetry and why it is he chose her.

“Her honesty and commitment to “bleeding on the page” made me feel like a pretender. There is an urgency and authenticity to her writing that makes you sit up in the middle of the night. Or stop everything on a Tuesday afternoon to listen to your own pulse. It is writing that originates in the South, spilled out through the Kentucky backroads and gulleys in a beat-up Ford with traces of meth in the ashtray. Honesty isn’t pretty and there are ghosts of things that never get mentioned at the family picnic. However, in spite of all the bumps and bruises, there is a peace and resolution that settles on the reader of these poems. Read closely. This is no Slyvia Plath. Yes, life is tricky. Life can be absurd. But throughout everything is a thirst for life itself.“

Congratulations, my dear. You deserve it.

the flight of the conchords…

here are the lyrics to the song…

Think about it

There’s children on the street using guns and knives
Taking drugs and each other’s lives
Killing each other with knives and forks
Calling each other names like ‘dork’
There’s people on the street getting diseases from monkeys
Yeah, that’s what I said – they’re getting diseases from monkeys
Now there’s junkies with monkey disease
Who’s touching these monkeys, please
Leave these poor sick monkeys alone
They’ve got problems enough as it is.
Man’s lying on the street
Some punk’s chopped off his head
I’m the only one who stops
To see if he’s dead
Mmm…
Turns out he’s dead.
And that’s why I’m singing
What…what is wrong with the world today?
What is wrong with the world today?
(Jemaine mumbles)
What…what is wrong with the world today?
You gotta think about it
Think think about it.
Good cops been framed and put into a can.
All the money that we’re making is going to the man.
What man?
Which man?
Who’s the man?
When’s a man a man?
What makes a man a man?
Am I a man?
Yes. Technically I am.
They’re turning kids into slaves just to make cheaper sneakers.
But hat’s the real cost?
‘Cause the sneakers don’t seem that much cheaper.
Why are we still paying so much for sneakers
When you got them made by little slave kids
What are your overheads?
Well, at the end of your life, you’re lucky if die,
Sometimes I wonder why we even try.
I saw a man lying on the street half dead
With knives and forks sticking out of his leg.
And he said,
“Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow
Can somebody get that knife and fork out of my leg, please?
Can somebody please remove these cutleries from my knees?”
And then we break it down.
This is where we break it down
Ooh
This is where we break it down
Aah
This is where we do the whoa-o-o-o
Break it down
This is where we build it up now
We build it up now
We build it up now
We build it up now
We build it up now
Build it up
And then we stop