#hope he gets shaken baby syndrome and dies

[randybutternubber]

I really miss chucky’s child’s play 2 look. That’s probably my favorite chucky design with child’s play 3 (HE ATE A BEE) being a close second

The giant eyes and the big ass head are really fitting but also super expressive. Plus the good guy dolls in part 2 look kinda high. The ones in part 3 are absolutely blazed though

[mbl17]

Old Friends 4 Sale

One of the most ironic sentences we can give you from Neal Karlen’s new book This Thing Called Life: Prince’s Odyssey On and Off The Record is when he writes “If Prince reappeared again, I was sure, he would die a second time the moment he saw what was being done in his name, memory, and supposed honor” (Karlen, Prelude). Neal took this jab at other associates in the book’s prelude yet went on to dishonor the man he says he loved too. These folks are starting to sound like a broken record now. Quite a few people claim to have loved Prince Rogers Nelson but won’t miss an opportunity to breakdance on his grave for pay. Or to get out whatever grievance they have over some perceived slight from decades ago. Or both.

Neal Karlen is a journalist who became friendly with Prince in 1985 when he interviewed him for his Rolling Stone cover story. Neal and Prince maintained a relationship for 31 years that consisted of late-night phone calls about life, love, music, sports, and all the things friends talk about. Neal says he last spoke with Prince three and a half weeks before he died. The odd timing of the conversation left Neal feeling shaken and Prince didn’t sound like himself either.  Neal was so worried that he reached out to C.J. (yes, the probable Billy Jack Bitch inspiration) to interview him for Minneapolis’ Star Tribune just days before Prince’s plane made the emergency landing in Moline, IL. This was a supposed plot to anger Prince enough to get him to call Neal again. Really Neal? Despite 31 years of contact with Prince there was no other way to initiate a conversation with the man besides providing an interview to C.J. and saying you’re waiting for Prince to die and other ridiculous tidbits? We’ll take backtracking and flip flopping for a $500 because Neal knows these quotes are a bad look.

In 2019 Neal was asked by a friend of a friend if we really needed another Prince book? He admits that he had no answer until he was reminded of the thank-you note Prince had written to him after that first Rolling Stone interview. The note said “Thanx 4 telling the truth!” and Neal believes this gave him the reason he needed to write the book. To tell the truth about Prince. Whether or not this is Prince’s truth is up to you. Just like it’s up to you to decide if the things written in This Thing Called Life needed to be told at all even if they are true. Either way, we wish Neal had just come out and admitted that he’s here for a check and attention just like the other associates he has disdain for because they’re behaving badly. We’ve learned that lots of people who knew Prince seem to have their version of the truth about Prince and somehow their truth becomes more true than anything Prince ever said about himself.

One of the most alarming things that Neal recounts is Prince’s alleged discussions of suicide that began in 1985 when the Purple Rain tour abruptly ended. Neal says that Prince admitted to hurting himself on several occasions throughout the tour and feeling like no one would notice. In a nutshell, Neal Karlen doesn’t believe that Prince’s accidental overdose was quite so accidental. He sees Prince’s untimely death as a passive suicide because Prince never recovered from the loss of two children and blamed himself for not having the life he planned to aside from the music.

Passive suicidal ideation — thinking about, but not planning, one’s own death.

Wow. That’s a hell of a psychological assessment from a man whose lane is journalism. Then again Neal is inclined to think that Prince might have been cognitively impaired and had savant syndrome while condescendingly referring to him as “ignorant”, an “extraordinary nitwit” at times, and an autodidact who had read books that looked interesting, but was still full of “ignorance and misinformation”. Are we talking about Prince or Rain Man here? We’re not sure if Neal even liked Prince very much aside from his musical genius because he takes perverse pleasure in taking Prince’s persona down a notch whenever he can. In Chapter 15 Neal describes a 1998 visit from Prince that is beyond disturbing. Neal says he had broken a leg and Prince called to check on his recovery. During the conversation the topic switched to the unlimited Percocet Neal had received for pain management after his surgery. Neal found it strange that Prince offered to come by, and what was supposed to be a well-meaning gesture ended with Prince allegedly downing a third of Neal’s Percocet like candy while looking like “Uptown’s skankiest panhandler” (Karlen, Chapter 15). “Uptown’s...skankiest...panhandler.” Let that sink in. The audacity of THIS guy to call John Bream an ass clown.

Another questionable portion of the book has Neal discussing the tragic birth and brief life of Amiir Nelson. Neal says that Prince “faux-consulted” Mayte after Prince had already made his decision to turn off Amiir’s ventilator. He recounts a conversation with Prince six month’s after Amiir’s death and grossly describes a man who had just made a decision that most of us hope to never be faced with as speaking in a tone that “was flat and carried with it all the ain’t-that-a-shame emotion of someone killing time by recalling, shot by shot, a very, very bad movie that he’d wanted to walk out of but couldn’t” (Karlen, Chapter 13). It’s funny that Neal gives a nod to Mayte Garcia’s 2017 book, The Most Beautiful, which directly contradicts whatever Neal is working hard to imply here. In Chapter 9 of The Most Beautiful, Mayte says she was the one to suggest that they let Amiir go while Prince tried to persuade her to let the doctors perform additional procedures. She knew their baby was suffering and eventually Prince AND Mayte agreed together to take Amir off the ventilator. Now we’ve given Mayte a hard time around here over some things since 2016, but why would anyone take Neal Karlen’s version of events over Mayte’s?

It isn’t lost on us that Neal Karlen takes a direct hit at Prince’s portrayal of his parents and childhood in his own autobiography, The Beautiful Ones. Although Neal calls the book “artfully-written”, it’s easy to see that he had issues, big issues, with Prince being less than truthful about his life. It’s a running theme throughout This Thing Called Life. If Prince had made peace with Mattie and John and forgiven them for any sins and/or chose not to rip that bandage off again, did Neal really need to go there? It’s obvious that Prince had troubles at home that caused him to land at Andre Cymone’s house, but why is Neal so offended that Prince wasn’t always truthful with people? Prince didn’t owe Neal, any other associate, or fans 100% of himself. Neal says he can’t let Prince escape history, but it seems more like he’s looking to put as many dents in Prince’s armor as possible. Neal saw Prince as a man who didn’t learn true empathy and how to stop using people until he was roughly 40 years-old, yet Neal gives fans a book that lacks empathy for the situations Prince probably wanted to bury and he is certainly using Prince for his own needs. Neal calls Prince’s father, John L. Nelson a “slimy, reptilian motherfucker”? Well slimy, reptilian pot meet slimy, reptilian kettle. Neal believes that Prince wanted him to write This Thing Called Life because Prince allowed him 31 years of conversation? We’re doubtful about that because like most fans, we believe that Prince wanted to tell his own story in The Beautiful Ones. We’re also doubtful that Prince agreed to be recorded outside of the 1985 Rolling Stone interview where Prince seems to be aware that the tape recorder is present.

It should come as no surprise that those taped recordings of Prince that Neal included in the audio version of the book don’t back up any of the outrageous claims he’s making. There’s nothing scathing in the recordings at all to be honest. You want to know what’s included in the audio version? Brief recordings of interviews and stories that most Prince fans already know. There’s no recording of the allegedly vile comments Prince made about his own mother. There’s no recording of Prince unleashing vitriol about his father. There’s no recording to prove Prince’s decades long suicide talk. Nothing. Nada. If Neal is holding back recordings to prove the worst details in the book what would be the reason at this point when he’s already shown us exactly who he is?

Old, old friends for sale Get 'em while the gettin' is hot But you better watch out, they'll kiss you Until they get what you got And they'll show you the friends that they're not Old friends for sale 

        Prince, Old Friends 4 Sale

[irepookie]

Infinity Chapter 5: IT CAN'T BE LIKE THIS FOREVER

Summary: QUEEN AU where Roger Taylor (aka Rowan Queen) is a young single dad struggling to make it into music industry.

Warnings: not really. Just fluff, sappiness and swear words here and there

Disclaimer: I don't own the pictures. The boys are based on Queen, but Piper, Gina and Callie are mine.

Chapter 5: Basically Row's and Piper's first day on their own, narrative shifting from normal to Row's inner train of thought.

🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

Throughout his life, Row would regularly look back with infinite fondness and amusement at the first day he spent on his own with his daughter.

But today, as both him and his week old infant cried in each other's ears, he didn't think either of them would make it through another 24 hours, let alone long enough to look back and laugh at it.

He thought he wouldn't get to the end of the parenting book he was with at the moment with his sanity intact.

He had read many books that contradicted each other. And this one was no exception.

Some said to follow a feeding schedule.

Others to do so whenever she'd demanded it.

Some said that bathing was bad for the umbilical cord.

Some others recommend to rub it with alcohol to help it fall early.

And others said not to touch it. To simply leave it alone.

Then there was Callie and her usual phrase echoing on his head "The best thing is to follow your instincts".

But that didn't help a damn either cause his instinct was messed up.

He had also read somewhere that sharing bed was good at the beginning. That it helped preventing SIDS.

Then on the next book, that sharing room was fine at first, but that bed was a risk factor in SIDS.

But hold on.

What the hell was SIDS?

They mentioned it everywhere. He went through all the pages until he found it, only to be left breathless when finding out what what it stood for:

Sudden Infant Death Syndrome.

Whose exact cause was still unknown , and although there were some preventive stuff to do -on which, by the way, all the bloody books differed- there was nothing 100% safe.

So, they meant his little Piper could just fucking die for no goddamn reason, and he wouldn't be able to do nothing about it? What the fuck! It wasn't fair!

So he found himself on the phone, dialing the number he always recurred to in times of trouble.

"I think I broke her, mom" he said as soon as he heard her pick up.

"You can't break a person, Row"

"Well, there's a first time for everything."

"Don't be overdramatic. You didn't expect it to be easy, did ya? Or you thought she was gonna be like a doll, huh? Like those that have a switch for when you get tired of playing house?"

"No but I didn't think... I mean she was much quieter in the hospital."

"Well, darling, she must have sensed the move or something."

"You mean she doesn't like my place?"

"No, you silly. Although there's room for improvement in the style... But that's not the point. She just needs time to get used to it. Also I bet she can sense your unease."

"Uh?"

"Babies have this sixth sense when it comes to the emotions of those around them. Specially mother's... Or well, in this case, you. So if she senses you're frustrated, she'll get more distressed."

"Oh." was all he could say.

"Where is she now?"

"She's right..." He looked down at the bundle he had been holding and rocking only to realize it was a bunch of dirty clothes.

Where was she? Had he lost his daughter after 5 hours? Fuck! Fucking idiot

For a moment, he forgot where he had put her and a million terrifying thoughts flashed on his head.

She wasn't crying at the moment.

And that was good.

Right?

Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was the worst thing.

Maybe one of the pillows on the sofa had fallen over her and suffocated her.

Or maybe he had mistaken her for a dirty bundle of clothes and put her in the laundry and...

"Rowan?"

"She's asleep on the bed." He suddenly remembered, peering at his bedroom to check he was right. He was. She was asleep, right in the middle of the mattress, exactly where he had placed her 10 minutes earlier.

"Then take this chance and sleep. You're good at sleeping."

It was definitely a good idea. So he hung up and tiptoed to the bedroom. He reached the bed and froze, trying to think of a way of climbing in without startling her awake.

Maybe the matress sinking at his weight woke her up. And if he got past that, perhaps if he dared to move or rolled in his sleep, he'd wake her up... Or worst; he had heard about the hundreds of kids that died overnight suffocated by their parents.

No. He decided he couldn't sleep with her.

So he got the bunch of dirty clothes and laid on the floor besides the bed, using the bundle as a pillow. He fell right off to sleep.

He woke up four hours later, and the room was still silent.

Shouldn't she need something? Shouldn't she have woken me up?

Once again, a feeling of fear invaded him as he jumped to his feet, and put a small mirror in front of her nose to make sure she was still breathing.

She was.

He sighed with relief and pecked her forehead before tiptoeing out.

He decided to make a sandwich or something, cause his stomach was roaring. Halfway through eating it, he ran his eyes through the parenting book he had left opened on the counter:

<<If your baby sleeps 4 straight hours or more wake them up for a feed; otherwise they could become dihydrated...>>

Fuck. She had been dozing for 4 hours and 20 minutes.

So he hurried into the bedroom, and leaned over the tiny bundle, a smile escaping his lips. She did know how to sleep after all. And she looked like an angel. So peaceful. Calm. It almost hurt him to disturb her. But he had to.

"Hey lil'raisin. C'mon, it's snack time" he said, gently lifting her up. "Hey, lovie. Wake up" he knew one thing he shouldn't do under any circumstances: shake her. Or make harsh movements. As that would lead to Major Danger #2:

Shaken Baby Syndrome. And that was under his control.

So he blew on her cheek instead and got her to open her eyes "Hey, Sleeping Gorgeous" he greeted, holding her up so they were face to face.

She looked up at him, directly into his eyes and something inside him melted.  

Perhaps she had finally settled. Maybe now they were both fresh and rested she'd go easy on him. He could do this.

But then her face scrunched up and she whined.

"Oh no, no, no, baby, what is it? Don't cry. Don't cry. C'mon." Then he felt a warm liquid on his hand. "Okay, okay, message received. Let's do this"

He got a towel and unswaddled her, hoping he'd be able to remember how it was done afterwards and praying for it only being number one. It was, but he hadn't folded the nappy correctly and it had leaked all over the onesie, the blanket and... His duvet.  Goddamn it.

He sighed. If he kept calm, she'd sense it. "Okay, me darl. Shh. Hold on a second.  Where... Where've I left the nappies? Where?" He looked around the room but no sight of the pack. Shit. Last time he had changed her in the living room? So it had to be there. "Okay, hang on a minute sweets. I'll be right back" he ran out to get the pack, as the wailing got louder.

"Alright. Alright. I've got it, I've got it. I'm here. Hush" he managed to do it surprisingly fast and without new incidents. "Alright, alright. Almost done. C'mere." He lifted her up, checking the nappy was properly sealed, and went to the kitchen area where he had left the last clean onesie.

On his way, he found the pinky he had been looking for earlier as well "Hey look at this. Here it was." he washed it with water and put it in her open mouth. She began to suck instinctively, calming down.

Thank. Fucking. Goodness.

He sighed in relief.

He could do this.

He laid her down in the kitchen counter, so he could wash his hands, throw his wee stained t-shirt to the washer and unfold the onesie. She squirmed a little, but kept quiet.

"Alright, let's put this on you. Please don't squirm too much, darling. I don't want to hurt you." he pleaded.

"Okay, it's all done" he announced 10 minutes later, when he finally managed to button up all the miniscule buttons on the onesie. Bloody miniscule buttons made for small mothers' hands.

"What's next? Oh yes, bottle. Alright. Coming right up"

Just when he had put the bottle to warm up, she spit the pinky, and began fussing. "Hey, love , here" he put it back, but she spit again. "You ain't buying it, are you? You're hungry, and the pinky isn't fooling you." He chuckled "Clever girl. Alright, it's almost done so don't worry, okay? It's almost there" he took her back into his arms, and paced around until the microwave beeped.

He made a mental note to never again waking her up before the bottle was done.

Never again.

"Okay Princess. Here's your cocktail, made with love." he announced, as he carried her to the couch and sat down, propping her up and watching as she immediately sucked into the nipple, face relaxing instantly.

"Yea, you were hungry right? That's what happens when you sleep through lunch time. I hope you've learned your lesson, and that next time, you let me know alright?" He grinned, as a hand closed around his hair.

But she suddenly pulled away from the nipple and began to  fuss again, halfway through the bottle "What? That's all? You're done? So much impatience for half a bottle? No, you've gotta keep going. C'mon" he offered the nipple, and she rejected it, hand pulling his hair

"Ow! Ow! Pips, no honey. Let go. C'mon. C'mon dear, let go." he set the bottle aside and used his free hand to untangle hers from his hair. She cried louder. "Hey, okay, okay, you can pull my hair off if you keep quiet. Uh? Deal?" He got more cries in response. His face fell.

"But you never did this in hospital. You didn't give Daddy hell like this. Why now? Why do you do this when I'm all alone? Am I such a bad dad? I mean I'm following every step. I'm doing my best. Please give me a break" he pleaded, changing her to an upright position.

He was doing nothing wrong, was he? He was doing everything just like he had been taught in hospital.

Well except maybe...

He had an idea and laid her on the couch "Alright, shhh. Let's try this one" he said, unbuttoning her onesie again, -making a mental note to ask Len if he could get him some bigger ones that wouldn't take forever to deal with- and bringing her back to his chest. She instinctively snuggled up, and quieted within seconds at the contact of both their skins.

And he didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry. "So you just wanted this? Well you should've said so earlier." He did both, out of amusement and relief.

Fuck he had cried more these past 7 hours than in the entire last decade. It was ridiculous, really. That someone so little could have such a big effect on him.

"So, where were we hon?" He offered the bottle and this time she did latch, body glued to his, and grey piercing eyes looking right through him, as if she was staring at his soul, as if she was reminding him why he was doing all this. And all the  worries that had crowed him until that moment, just disappeared.

I can do this.

He didn't detach her from his chest for the rest of the day, as that seemed to keep her at peace and he didn't mind it. Rather enjoyed it.

So he changed his peed sheets and threw the nappy away, made himself some coffee and broke the mug in the process, as he struggled to do the whole thing with one hand. Then he had to pick it up and cut himself off with one of the shattered pieces.  However, he didn't mind: it was worth it as long as she remained undisturbed.

"Are you two better?" Mom asked when she called in the evening.

"Yes, yes. We're... We're alright. Got the ultimate trick. I think we came to an understanding."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that. Where is she, by the way?"

"Right here." he pressed his lips on the top of her head, rested on his shoulder.

"Has she eaten properly?'

"Aye. Then spat some of it on me and... Yea. I think she's good." she had finished both bottles fairly quickly.

"And you? How are you eating?"

"Managed to eat half a sandwich. So not too bad."

"Finish it."

"I'm fine, mother."

"Row by neglecting yourself you're putting her in danger too. So eat properly and stay sane for the sake of you both, okay?"

He sighed. "Alright. I'll finish the stupid sandwich."

"And eat some food or whatever. Vitamins."

"Shit, this is like being 10 again."

They hung up and Row did as told, in spite of himself. Mom had a point.

So he finished the sandwich and grabbed an apple, eating it in bites, chewing it slowly and as silently as possible so he wouldn't disturb his daughter.

Damn it was cold. He'd have to turn the heat on, which he never did cause the bill afterwards was terrifying. But hell, both of them were half naked in February. And he had already spent a fortune on that prune sized person, might as well keep her alive and warm.

Then he laid down with her cuddled on his bare chest as she breathed in uneven, scary patterns, which Callie had told him were normal.

And soon, he found they were breathing in sync, every breath he took was three of hers. Or 5. Or none.

But it was normal, he reminded himself. Her breathing system has to develop still. She's fine.

He was exhausted, but completely wakeful at the same time, cause he was hypnotized by the sight of his little sleeping prune.

Like he would be countless nights in the future.

Because there was no better remedy for panic, no better way to put his thoughts in order and make him feel the strongest, happiest man on Earth than the sight of his daughter sleeping.

🥁🥁🥁🥁

As always, a big Heya to my only reader friend, @definitely-darcy. As you know I'm nervous about this chapter, but I enjoyed writing it a lot. So I hope you like It.

Xx ~Pookie

[lemonsandgodzilla]

Donated/parting ways

Parting ways with my futon from when I lived alone... Which was a huge thing for me to get away from my ex & be independent enough to be on my own. Kinda nostalgic but someone needs it more than I do. A family at work is adopting/fostering 2 homeless teens. This family already has 5 kids of their own. I guess what happened was these 2 kid's other sibling suffered from shaken baby syndrome & couldn't get around very well by himself .. He was 5 yrs old .. There was a house fire & their mother & sibling died in the fire .. Their dad was remarried, went to prison, & their stepmom kicked them out. Their aunt took them in but only briefly, now this family will be their family. That's the nutshell version. This is how I can help make a difference for someone. I have too much & they have nothing. I hope they can feel all the warmth & hope I'm sending with it.

[scottjuceam-blog]

Man Given 25 Years in Shaken Baby Death

This article originally appeared on News4Jax.com.

Todd Howell pleaded guilty, gets 10 years of probation after state prison

A Jacksonville man who pleaded guilty in the 2013 murder of his girlfriend's 22-month-old daughter was sentenced Thursday to 25 years in state prison, followed by 10 years of probation.

Todd Howell claimed he dropped Kylieann Burress in November 2013 at the Villages of Baymeadows apartments and then shook her in an attempt to wake her up.

The 22-month-old stopped breathing and was rushed unresponsive to Wolfson Children's Hospital, where she died about 12 hours later from shaken baby syndrome.

“Nobody in the world should ever have to see that,” the girl's paternal grandfather, John Burress, said. “No child should ever have to be put through that, because it is just inhumane. It's not right.”

Police said the incident happened after Howell took the girl's mother to work. The two had been together for two months.

Judge Waddell Wallace said what happened was inexcusable and unjustifiable when he sentenced Howell to 25 years in state prison. Howell had pleaded guilty a month ago to killing the little girl.

Howell's attorney and the State Attorney's Office agreed to the sentence, along with Kylieann's family, although her grandparents said they are far from satisfied and had hoped for more prison time.

“The punishment never fits the crime,” the toddler's paternal grandmother, Carolyn Burress, said. “He took her life.”

Kylieann's father, her grandparents and her aunt were among those who gave impact statements Thursday.

“We've got so many pictures that tell a story, a story that we can never get back and one that we could never move forward with,” Carolyn Burress, said.

John Burress said any time they spent with the bashful, sweet toddler was special.

“She was just that type of captivating person that would laugh and smile, even if she was sleeping,” John Burress said. “She was the perfect child to us.”

Howell spoke briefly, but did not directly apologize to Kylieann's family.

“It is unfortunate what has come about in the situation,” Howell said. “I know that I loved her. I miss her every day, and I don't have too much more to say.”

He was taken into custody after the hearing. He had been out on home detention. His family was in the courtroom, but left before making any comments.

Kylieann’s grandparents said the laws need to change so that the punishment is harsher for those who kill children. They also said parents need to be careful with who they let watch their children. They said they hope speaking out will save another child’s life.

The Department of Children and Families told News4Jax that two-thirds of all child abuse and neglect cases in the nation come at the hands of a single mother's boyfriend. The majority of those cases involve children under the age of 3, which can make it difficult, but not impossible to stop problems before it’s too late.

Scott Juceam is one of the leading advocates against Shaken Baby Syndrome. Scott’s life changed when his daughter Hannah was shaken to death by her nanny in 2006. Since then, Scott has dedicated his life to preventing Shaken Baby Syndrome and child abuse.

To learn more about me, please visit my website at www.ScottJuceam.com or you can click here.

[neubauje]

Cognitive Dissonance album review

Through a mixup in mailing lists (as well as being a patron), I have come into possession of the first ten tracks from Matthew Ebel’s upcoming album “Cognitive Dissonance” and asked to review them. I’ve never (formally) reviewed an album before, but I thought I’d give it a shot. Please note that I am in no way a professional music reviewer, and everything I’ve said here comes from a place of love and fandom.

I Will Take You Home: First things first, I am mildly delighted by the subtle use of a vibraslap in the background of this song. The rest of the instrumentation is pretty great too, though I feel it could really benefit from some added horn/sax (but I’m biased about that). The backing vocals add a lot, especially when combined with the church organ here and there. The middle bridge is an interesting transition into a slower section which is less jazzy and more rock-heavy, which really helps to introduce the feel of the rest of the album. There’s something weird going on with the number of bars in a phrase of the chorus, which doesn’t seem to resolve until the very end.

The Beating: The beginning of this song is entirely epic. It is SO very promising, until it gets to the choppy feel of the pre-chorus, which is jarring and doesn’t seem to go with the verses or chorus at all. And then of course, there’s the dissonant bridge. It feels as though this is almost three or four songs cobbled together, ala many Broadway musicals. Something about it in general reminds me of Blue Man Group’s second album, especially with the Jefferson Airplane quote in the chorus. I’d be intrigued to see it performed by a whole four- or five-piece band onstage.

Mister Speaker: Everything about this song (except maybe the lyrics) just screams “Nineties,” though I don’t know enough about musical and production trends to be able to tell you why, just something about the chords and the guitar/vocal quality. As for the lyrics? Ebel is usually SUCH a masterful wordsmith that I keep expecting to hear an ABAB rhyme scheme, but am left somewhat disappointed by a rhyme only every other line. Not sure if there was an attempt, and it didn’t turn out well, or what. Pluuusss there’s that allusion to shaken baby syndrome, which is kind of awful, but considering the circumstances of what the song is on about, like… I get it. Just yikes.

I Suppose: If you’re looking for a “Classic Ebel” song on this album, this is your jam. It’s just straight-up nothing but piano and voice, which of course, is not… inherently bad? But anymore I almost expect that simplistic arrangement to be reserved for the more ballad-like pieces, which this one does not seem to be. I keep waiting for the drum set and rhythm guitar to kick in any time in the first verse or chorus, but it just never happens. This song just… seems like it’s building up to some epic crescendo, but never got to do it, because the rest of the band slept in that day.

Get Some: This is THE quintessential song off this album (from what we have so far), so I’m including it as a demo track. Have a listen. Every single line of this song is the embodiment of the cognitive dissonance the current generation has been raised to believe. It’s got a rockin’ bass line on the piano reminiscent of Hey Bulldog, and then some cool synth parts on top of that, and it all just has such synergy that refuses to stop for ANYBODY. The vocal part is a little more yell-y than I’d usually go for, but in times like this, who can blame a little yelling?

This Band Does Not Suck: Proto 1 (Ebel’s fictional yet fourth-wall-breaking robot assistant) makes his triumphant return, along with an un-named accompaniment to emphasize or subvert certain points. I sort of wonder why this musical disclaimer wasn’t the first song on the album, it would have made more sense there, but so be it. The wordy-narrative-over-a-jam element is definitely a Blue Man Group sort of maneuver (again, my bias is heavy), and the dis-harmonic stretching and squashing of the guitar and piano notes makes for a psychedelic performance.

Good Riddance: I still can’t listen to this song without hearing the refrain from Switchfoot’s “This Is Your Life,” but this song almost seems to be a response or sequel to that song. It pushes it further, rocks it harder, and adds a- what is that, a glockenspiel? All sorts of great sounds and effects in the background going on here, but you hardly notice them for how easily that bassline just keeps grooving along. Not to mention there are some superb lyrics, my favorite of which has to be the gilded cage in the chorus.

Coyote All Night: I kept thinking this would break out with a heavier bass like in Radiohead’s 15 Step, but no such luck. It’s a great dance tune, and I think it could really push the envelope and get people up and moving their feet if it would just drop that bass now and then. Otherwise it kind of sounds like the level music out of a Spyro game, but with piano??

Better: This seems to come from the same tongue-in-cheek place as The Real Socialites of Plastiboob Valley, complete with reference to fake tits. It does some interesting play with gender roles and relationships and social anxiety and threats of suicide, so trigger warning there, but then it pauses and calms down for a minute to take stock. This is one of those tracks where the music takes a back seat to the lyrics, rather than the opposite like in the previous track. If The Beating was one of the opening or middle tracks of a musical, this is a finale or pre-finale piece.

We Can Move On: Here’s that sad ballad piece you knew was coming. It weaves and wends between major and minor chords, or maybe it’s in a different mode altogether? It’s been a long time since my college music theory classes, so I’m not sure anymore. Edit: after consulting with a friend who is more versed in modes, they confirmed that it’s in Mixolydian! It also has one of the strangest rhyming schemes I’ve heard in a while, but the meter is Spot. On. As in, if Ebel wanted to write a shakespearean sonnet and set it to music, I have no doubt he could do it. An interesting feature of this song is the veeerry soft synth-double voice which is added in about halfway though the song, just before the fully instrumental synth reprise leads to the final round of a chorus. It’s an entirely different type of epic, leaving you clinging to hope for a future that surely must be out there…

All told, this is a bit of a departure from Ebel’s previous works, though the roots of each of these songs can be found in prior albums if you look hard enough. My personal tastes will almost always lean harder towards a concept album like Dexter or HOStP that can tell a narrative, but that’s not to say that this album isn’t cohesive in its own right. It picks a few good topics and explores them pretty thoroughly, and only throws in a couple random things for fun. Cognitive Dissonance will be releasing officially on June 23rd, and I’m guessing I won’t get to hear the other three tracks (The Doll, The Cereal, and The Flamethrower) on the album until that time. Eagerly looking forward to that, and to seeing Ebel’s live performance at Anthrocon 2017 a week later!