October 2008

One trick-or-treater so far

With Sonic Youth's Evol, Madvillain's Madvillainy, the Misfits box, and Between Heaven & Earth: Traditional Gamelan Music of Bali (because it sounds like skeletons) on the stereo, the original Cat People on the DVD player, a fire in the fire place, Indian take-out, and a plastic pumpkin full of candy, we're being boring for the holiday, though we're planning to be The Birds tomorrow (with me as Alfred Hitchcock) with family and friends. Happy Halloween!

Posted by Peter S. Scholtes at October 31, 2008 8:18 PM | Comments (0)

Free Max Hardcore

On October 3, a Florida judge sentenced California-based pornographer Paul Little to three years and ten months in a federal penitentiary for selling obscene materials over the internet and mailing them to Tampa. A jury there convicted Little on 20 counts of obscenity after watching eight-plus hours of his videos--it probably didn't help that the notorious producer-director, a.k.a. Max Hardcore, stars in all of them.

Defense of liberty is no vice, and I'll take my vice and my liberty separate, thanks: This is no occasion to evaluate the worth or toxicity of Max Hardcore's pornography, as I did in City Pages ten years ago (and as Susannah Breslin does here). Whatever you think of him, Little has not been convicted of harming anyone: He's going to prison for selling videos of consenting adults to consenting adults, having been charged under the novel rationale that Central Florida "community standards" apply to any material made available online.

If you forgot that federal obscenity statutes still exist in the internet era, you're probably not alone: They were barely enforced under Clinton, in the years when porn powered the developing web, and while prosecutions were stepped up after 9/11 (with some flak caught by Bush's politicized Department of Justice for skewed priorities), they were carried out selectively. Three years ago, the Third Circuit court ruled in the case of U.S. v. Extreme Associates that these statutes are constitutional until the Supreme Court says they aren't, overturning a lower-court ruling that struck them down, and paving the way for this latest case. But it's tough to imagine Max Hardcore riding a First Amendment test up to the high court after Extreme's married-couple defendants were denied an audience. (A new trial for them begins in district court next year.)

U.S. prosecutors chose carefully when singling out Paul F. Little, whose Max Hardcore website now leads to a DOJ press release. A household name in the industry, he's not well-loved even there, with barely a murmur of protest rippling out from the case into the media, though news accounts cluck about the supposed irony of a female judge handing down the sentence. Never mind that most of what you can Google using a few bad words violates somebody's "community standards" somewhere, including a lot of pornography made by and for women.

Again, the issue is not whether you or I find what happens in Paul Little's movies, or on his sets, reprehensible. That's what criticism and organized labor are for, and I encourage more of both: The screen guilds' spurning of porn performers is one of the true Hollywood scandals we never hear about.

But as I wrote in 1998, "anyone tempted to use this de Sade in cowboy boots as a poster boy for driving porn back into the pre-Behind the Green Door underground runs the risk of smothering the medium just as its gender politics are getting interesting." The subsequent era of freedom arguably improved the larger culture, even if it was a mixed bag (freedom always is). And either way, is there any going back?

The Bush justice department clearly hopes so: Putting Max Hardcore in prison is a warning to pornographers who test the limits of taste, and thus freedom. "It becomes a race to the bottom, fueled by the vastness, the speed and the anonymity of the Internet," said assistant U.S. attorney Edward J. McAndrew in the St. Petersburg Times.

But whose bottom? (Puns are inevitable.) And isn't the anonymity he's describing just the ultimate movie theater? That the screen would yield to the terrible power of the crowd's imagination has always been the promise of movies, a promise as American as strongly held opinions, and as perilous to suppress.

Posted by Peter S. Scholtes at October 30, 2008 5:31 PM | Comments (1)

Sonic Youth and other movies: Sound Unseen

Sonic Youth: Sleeping Nights Awake (Trailer)

I just saw this incredible band last night. They're called Sonic Youth. At least I felt as if I were seeing and hearing them for the first time, though now that I think about it, it's been 23 yeras since I first noticed the cover of Bad Moon Rising through the plate glass of Paradise Records in Madison, not long before they played the Wil-Mar Center (a roar you could hear down the block).

What made Sonic Youth new for me again was watching Sleeping Nights Awake, which screened last night as part of the ninth annual Minneapolis-St. Paul-only Sound Unseen festival (amazing that this thing hasn't gone national--more here). The digital-video concert documentary, which screens again tonight at St. Anthony Main, was made by a bunch of teenagers in Reno who ask the band the kinds of things, and shoot the kinds of things, that a hipper or more wised-up director might skip.

The result is entirely fresh and exciting: There's pretty much zero history or background to clutter the portrait of Sonic Youth as a continuing, if seasoned, experiment in self-discovery and in repaying the life-favor of punk rock. Against the surreal backdrop of a casino setting (the band plays basketball around a jet airliner from a magic show), the musicians talk about what it's like to play this music now, and perform in the kind of handheld footage that made U2's Live at Red Rocks: Under a Blood Red Sky (see page 18 of that link) an enduringly immediate document where Rattle and Hum dates as something more "cinematic." The DV video footage here is in black and white, which works surprisingly well for the medium.

Three things help immensely: 1.) the fact that Sonic Youth are still such a great band, 2.) Lee Renaldo's remastering job of the sound-board recording--the music sounds so good ("Kool Thing" is better than the studio version), it should be released as a live album--and 3.) young editors apparently with film sense way beyond their years. The documentary has a rhythm as intuitively changeable and tight as the band's, though in true Sonic Youth fashion, the coda goes on a bit.

Check the full Sound Unseen schedule for other parties, shows, screenings, and happenings--this is one of the reasons to live here.

Posted by Peter S. Scholtes at October 24, 2008 2:39 PM | Comments (0)

New Orleans and the smearing of ACORN

(Food Circle market on North Claiborne in New Orleans in September, 2005; February, 2006; and October, 2008)

I used to shop at the Food Circle Store back when I lived in New Orleans in 1994 and 1995. Dirty and overpriced, it was the only supermarket in the area, and I remember thinking it was an example of what inner city residents had to put up with. (Now another memory kicks in: The bank that owned all the cash machines in the city would allow you to overdraft through its ATMs rather than tell you you had "insufficient funds," charging a penalty when you did.)

Still, the fact that the store hasn't reopened since Katrina is distressingly symbolic. Driving around the city last weekend (after my friend Machelle's wedding in City Park), I found New Orleans still eerily quiet and empty two and a half years after my last visit, even in tourist spots. There are signs of progress and rebuilding in the Upper and Lower Ninth Ward. For starters, the stoplights work, and there are no houses in the middle of the street. But there are the same ravaged buildings beside newly painted ones. And keep in mind, this was a federal disaster.

Two years from now, most people won't remember last week's absurd smear campaign against ACORN (the Association of Community Organizations for Reform Now), which I watched on CNN and Fox News from my hotel room in the French Quarter. At a moment when the international financial collapse had the surreal quality of the sun dying in the sky, the noise on TV had the comforting merit of being untrue. I trust you to know already that the voter registration fraud in question was committed against ACORN, not by it (and that the organization itself identified the problems). You might even know that ACORN is one of the good guys when it comes to New Orleans and the related problems at the heart of our deepening economic crisis: buying homes and fighting blight.

The big and small lies will fade, but I hope people remember John McCain's part in spreading them, and his performance at the final presidential debate Wednesday, during which he said ACORN was "on the verge of maybe perpetrating one of the greatest frauds in voter history in this country, maybe destroying the fabric of democracy"--a statement so fantastic, and so provably disingenuous (McCain was an ally of ACORN), that any benefit of the doubt I gave the old man went out the window. Even if his image is entirely cultivated and wafer-thin, McCain is still the most likable Republican presidential candidate in my lifetime, coming across humbled by flaws in a way Ronald Reagan faked being. You can imagine McCain hating the lies he rehearses and hating those calling him on it even more, which might be why his head looked like it was about to explode when, during the debate, he had to endure even a few seconds of comparison to cynical '60s segregationists--racists of opportunity who played to the fascist wings he now needs. McCain has been careful to alert this fringe without once crossing the line into time-honored racial code: How dare anyone suggest he hasn't!

I was going to write that in another era, ACORN would have been called Communist and various racist terms of abuse--except that they're actually being called those things right now, in a fevered campaign that resembles the "protests" greeting the Florida recount (subject of an excellent HBO film I just saw), and with the same goal. Why on earth would McCain turn off that faucet? The anti-American thing is just gravy. (See Exiled on our state as a center of wackdom.)

This is something more than sore-losing in advance or taking your enemy down with you. As Jeff Chang puts it:

Voter registration fraud doesn't mean that Mickey Mouse will show up and try to vote on November 4th. Voter suppression, however, is an active Republican strategy that's been in place since the 1964 Voting Rights Act expanded enfranchisement. Is there any wonder why election protection groups feel they need to be in communities of color, working-class people, immigrants, and not in, say, Salt Lake City?

Coda:

On a happier note, new murals are going up over the reopened Mother-in-Law Lounge of the late "Emperor of the Universe" Ernie K-Doe, just a couple blocks from the Food Circle.

Posted by Peter S. Scholtes at October 20, 2008 6:55 AM | Comments (0)

Scholteses in the news

My father and stepmother were in the local news in Madison recently, my dad in the Wisconsin State Journal ("Know your Madisonian: Peter Scholtes"), my stepmom Peg Scholtes on Channel 15 ("Hot Trends: Political Apparel"). They're both so well spoken in public, a trait I did not inherit. I don't have visuals, but above is a youtube of Will Bradley's "Celery Stalks at Midnight," which my dad cites as his favorite song. Peg's store with my sister Jenna Hansen is Capitol Kids on the square.

Posted by Peter S. Scholtes at October 18, 2008 12:20 PM | Comments (0)

Set the Smith Q&A

Set the Smith, whom I wrote about in City Pages this week, performs a CD-release show on Saturday at the Dinkytowner for his excellent new The Smithsonian Album, on Chill Records. Both the show and CD feature local legends, and shouldn't be missed.

The rapper (a.k.a. Upset the Locksmith, a.k.a. Charles C. Lockhart III) sat down with me over coffee and a cigar last month at Dunn Brothers in Uptown to talk about his early days as a child-MC in the 1980s, back when his father managed the I.R.M. Crew, one of the first popular local rap groups. We also talked about his career since then, and a more recent controversy--this is his first time going on the record about his role in the case of an erroneously sent government check for $2.6 million, which he says the media has distorted.

Listen to Set's new music at his MySpace page, and his last album, The Example Part One, at CDBaby. He'll be appearing tomorrow night on RSE Radio, which you can stream here.

You mentioned that you speak to your father every day. What do you talk about?

Sometimes he calls me just to say what's up and philosophize about life and what the future holds, and my life and what I really want. And sometimes it's all about music and what the next mission is. Me and him, we've always been real close. We're kind of cut the same. He's like my best friend. My father is my best friend.

What are your earliest memories of your father and local rap?

My father's raised me with my mother, so he's always been around. But one thing that sticks out in my head was when I was three or four years old. I was walking around the edge of the sandbox, and I lost my balance and fell on my chin. I busted my chin open, and my dad came and picked me up and brought me to the hospital, and I got stitches and all that. Afterwords he was real proud of me for not crying through getting the stitches, so he took me to McDonald's. That was my first time knowing my body could even bleed like that, and I think a big reason why I didn't bug out was he was there. He kept me calm through that situation.

I have a whole lot of memories of my father as far as hip hop goes. Before hip hop, he was involved in rock and roll with my uncle. He had a band called Banther, and my dad was managing his band for a moment. And then my brother [Gage] came to him and said, "Yo, you need to get into hip hop," in about '85. So that's when he started getting involved in hip hop. My father used to bring me to studio spots and everything.

My biggest memory was a show that he did at the Capri. The show was sold-out, and that's when gang-banging was pretty big over north, and it'd just hit the city, so it was like Vice Lords and GDs around. There was a whole lot of people outside who wanted to get in, and there wasn't a lot of hip-hop shows back then, so if you couldn't get in to a Charlie Chill show then you weren't going to get to see no live hip hop. So people got upset, and they ended up shooting up the show. It was the I.R.M. Crew [a.k.a. Immortal Rap Masters, a.k.a. IRM Crew] performing. It was on the news and all of that. My dad kept us all safe.

MCs were always at the crib. They ended up staying with us at one point in time. Hip hop and my father go hand in hand with the memories that I have of my life. A very small part of my life was not involved in hip hop, and that was probably around the time when I broke my chin open.

(I.R.M. Crew in the studio, 1987, clockwise from top: Devastatin' D, TLC, Kel C, Michael Mack, B Fresh [now Truthmaze], and manager Charles C. Lockhart II, Set the Smith's father. Photo courtesy of Charles C. Lockhart II.)

Do you remember the first time you beatboxed?

The first time I beatboxed I was around Truthmaze. He was just phenomenal. I remember listening to him on the radio battling another beatboxer on KMOJ, just eating cats up all over the city. Nobody could touch him. So I began beatboxing around 5 or 6, strictly because of him, looking up to the people he looked up to, like Doug E. Fresh. But B Fresh was so dope, and that was his [Truthmaze's] name back then, he was so dope that he was in the same league as Doug E. Fresh and all of them because he could do all the combinations.

Do you remember your first rap?

I remember the first rap that I wrote, I rapped it in front of TLC. TLC was Tender Loving Care in the I.R.M. Crew. He was more so the battle rapper, and Kel C [also of IRM] was more of a freestyling thinker, the type of cat that would save a show spontaneous. TLC would write some shit to rip your head off. He lived with us for a second. So I started rhyming when I was 6, 7. And my first name was Baby Beat. I was the baby who would beatbox.

Do you remember anything about that rap?

I remember the first line. "Baby Beat is a name you will never forget/Baby Beat is rocking/Baby Beat is it."

And you were recording by 7-years-old, with producer Kelley Kelley.

Kelley Kelley was working with a cat named Sweet Success, and that's who my father was working with after the I.R.M. Crew. I would come to the studio sessions just to check out what they were doing. I always wanted to be a rapper, and I thought I had skills, so I would spit flows and think I could battle Sweet Success at that young age. I would come there and just listen to Sweet Success and admire what he was doing, and try to get Kelley Kelley to stop their session and hear what I was about. I was just getting in the way back then.

Was there anybody else that young doing it back then?

Not that I knew of. I was just around all the older cats. I think I was really fortunate about the circle of people that were around me. It was like a hip-hop family spread all the way across the city. My father was like the father of hip hop in Minnesota, and they were his children, and he took care of them like his children too. Any time they needed something, my dad was there for them. They were all like my older brothers.

By 14, you'd released your first album. Was there any point where you decided this was something you wanted to do, not just for fun?

Actually, at 12 I was on my first CD. My dad was dealing with some cats out of Chicago and they were putting together a compilation CD on Bridge City Records. I had written a song called "Warning," and LST produced the song. I sounded like a little girl because my voice hadn't changed yet. I was working with LST back then, and then I was working with my man Headake tha Chosen, who's on my album now. So I pulled him into the fold, and we had a song called "Black on Black Crime." Even back then when we were kids, we were rapping about stuff that was tangible and had meaning to what was going on. And plus my dad was always about the message, bro. He instilled that in me early on, that when you rhyme, just not to rhyme to rhyme, but rhyme about something.

When I interviewed your dad for the local hip-hop oral history in City Pages, he was pretty open about transferring a lot of his dreams from the IRM Crew to you. Is that a lot of weight on your shoulders?

Actually, I thrive in that field. Because I used to spit rhymes to my dad. He would be working with other people, and he would come home, and I would be like, "Yo, Dad, check this out," and I would rhyme some shit over an instrumental. And finally my mom was like, "You should work with your son." And he wanted to work with me. So we began working together, and I think It was a mutual thing. I loved it.

What was that early-'90s scene like here when you were getting in the mix?

That's when messages started coming through in songs, when the Micranots was more so not just rhyming about being dope, but rhyming about things that were going on. I think it was pretty much a gang of urban kids trying to really convey a message to a larger audience about what they were going through and what they were seeing coming up. That's what the scene was around my way, cats like the Micranots and Phull Surkle.

Who were your favorite rappers then?

Rakim, Big Daddy Kane, Special Ed, Redhead Kingpin. OC was dope. L.L. Cool J definitely influenced me a whole lot.

Where'd you go to high school?

I went to South High. Zach from Kanser, New MC, he was around there back then. We still talk, he's still my dude. I would battle MCs all day at South, that's what it was all about. Cats like Omar, he was like a master freestyler back in the early '90s. Even though he was older, I would always go at the head honcho, because I was young and I was hungry. The only way to get attention was to go at the person who was getting all the attention.

You worked with Rek the Heavyweight, a.k.a. Spawn from Atmosphere. Was that in the mid-'90s?

Yeah, '97-'98 was when me and Rek got together. It was my first album, Final Notice, that I recorded under the name Upset the Locksmith. Rek was working with Atmosphere at that time. I really needed a producer, and my brother Gage knew Rek, and he was like, "Yo, you two need to work together," because Rek at the time was making beats that he wanted everybody to hear, and he wasn't really getting the opportunity for people to hear his beats. So me and him, you know. Steel sharpens steel. I'm really happy he stepped outside of himself to work with me at that time. Before then, I didn't know anything about writing a full album, we were just about making good songs.

The reason I called it Final Notice is because when you get a final notice bill, shit's about to cut off. [laughs] That was my final notice to MCs that I was coming.

And there were two other albums before The Example Part One, right?

My second album was 3179: The Legend of Upset, which came out in 2001, and that's when I pulled Cue Dangerous into the fold. I saw him live at a show, and I thought his lyrics was real dope. From that point on we started working together. That album was produced by Rek the Heavyweight and Cue Dangerous, and it did pretty well in town.

After that album, I released another one in 2003 called No Pain. Cue Dangerous produced about 70 percent of that record, and Rek produced about 30 percent. And then you got hold of The Example album that came out in 2005, and once again Rek and Cue Dangerous produced that record. And now the newest album, The Smithsonian Album in 2008, that album I produced like 80 percent of, and Cue Dangerous produced a couple tracks on there, his production company produced, as well as 84 Caprice, he produced one song, and a new young cat, Kel C's nephew, his name is J-Hard, he's about 20 years old and his beats are ridiculous, so I took a beat from him, and that's the song "Fresh for Sure."

He's a workaholic with the beats, and when I see him, it reminds me of what I used to be. Those are the people that I really take interest in, the young lions coming up, because they will be the voice for Minneapolis tomorrow.

That's funny you say that, beacuse you're not even 30 yet, right?

I'm not, and I'm not ready to be. [laughs] So let's not push the envelope.

You seem to have a multi-generational operation.

I'm spinning off as many people as I possibly can, and I want to give opportunities to younger individuals who are coming up who take this music seriously. Because there's so many different things you can do with you're life when you're young and you're coming up in Minneapolis, you can veer off in so many different directions. I think music really kept me grounded through everything that I was involved with in life. I have a lot of different friends form a lot of different walks of life, and I think that without music I would probably be dead or in jail.

I saw the stories in the papers about the charges against you, dropped in exchange for your cooperation. What's your side of the story?

There was nothing to cooperate about. Whatever the paper wrote, they talked to the prosecutor. And the prosecutor was pretty upset that they couldn't tag me with anything and my lawyer stood by me.

So what happened exactly?

The state erroneously sent a check to an individual and put their name on it and their social security on it, and made a huge mistake--and then got mad and wanted to blame anybody who was near the situation, and wanted to charge anybody with anything that they could possibly charge them with, to cover up the mistake that they had made.

The young lady that I supposedly cooperated against, me and her still deal with each other today. Her side of the story will come out sooner or later as well, and people will understand a clearer picture of the situation.

But the paper never interviewed me. All they give a damn about is what's the most interesting thing to read. And being that I'm known so well in town, and everybody knows how I'm cut, I wasn't worried about that. I haven't had an individual yet come up to me and think that I'm cut like that. Because before this, I've had other situations with the law that would be able to judge my character. And I've always taken my own weight, and I always will. In this situation there was no weight to take, and they had to swallow that.

You've watched local hip hop grow for nearly 25 years. Do you ever come across an artist today starting out as young as you did in the '80s?

My son, Romel. He's more of a singer than an MC, and I'm producing a lot of his music right now. He's ten years old.

So it really is a multi-generational operation.

Yeah, definitely. And my thing is to pass on whatever I build to him, to let him carry it, and help people out the way I would like to help people out.

When you've experienced the things that I've experienced, you end up looking at life in a different way. I know damn well that money doesn't make you happy. I know that the greatest joy in life is helping other people. You get a feeling within you that is unlike any other feeling. And that just makes me believe in God even more, because he created humans like that. And, I mean, you could buy the flyest whip, buy the flyest clothes and jewelry, but it'll never give you the satisfaction as it would if you would help somebody do something that they'd never thought was possible without your help.

Any more news you want to share from the artists in your circle?

Headake tha Chosen is coming out with a record pretty soon, and you can check him out on hurryupandbuy.biz. He's a totally different MC than me, street-orientated to the fullest, but that's what I love about him. We're all so different. Also check out Cue Dangerous, a.k.a. Oldboy. Rek the Heavyweight's got an album on Chill Records, Timeless. Kel C's on my record, he's working on a new album right now, and his stuff is coming out ridiculous. B-Down produced the song we did on the record, and he's got a new album with Young Pluky [a.k.a. Young Plukey], and Young Pluky's in my video.

I got some hard-hitters on that October 18 show. What I want to convey through doing that show is how far Minneapolis has come, and what Minneapolis hip hop is about to me, what it is about to the older b-boys in town who remember where it came from.

Posted by Peter S. Scholtes at October 17, 2008 9:15 PM | Comments (1)

Pettibon junction: the art of SST

This deserves its own new post: My SST eMusic Dozen also happens to coincide with a Los Angeles exhibit of '70s and '80s work by Greg Ginn's brother Raymond Pettibon at Regen Projects. Pettibon drew the Black Flag cover sleeve below, along with many other iconic SST album covers and posters, and designed the band's four-bar, rippling-flag logo, which all these years later still inexplicably signifies danger. The exhibit runs through October 18. I wonder if the two brothers still haven't spoken since the mid-'80s.

Posted by Peter S. Scholtes at October 8, 2008 4:06 PM | Comments (0)

Sarah Palin's favorite records

(Caption: "NOBODY KNOWS MORE THAN I THAT THE LESS GIRLS KNOW THE BETTER THEY ARE LIKELY TO BE." Cover drawing by Raymond Pettibon from Black Flag's Slip It In, SST, 1984.)

My eMusic Dozen for SST Records is live, coinciding with a rare national tour by SST founder Greg Ginn in his various bands, including the striking Jambang (he always was a Deadhead first), none coming to Minneapolis/St. Paul as yet. Each has a new album on SST available (via The Orchard) for download at eMusic. I've written about the label's peak years in American punk rock more personally before, but doing the dozen was a chance to affirm in my viscera that loving this music has nothing to do with nostalgia. (Actually, I'd forgotten how much Black Flag's '85 Madison show bummed me out until I reread Get in the Van and remembered the car accident outside Turner Hall.)

Joe Carducci's beautifully written 2007 memoir/biography Enter Naomi: SST, L.A. and All That... brought the entire period alive for me again, but in a way that was almost completely outside (though parallel to) my own experience, a reinvigorating of admiration I'm now experiencing with Repo Man in Alex Cox's book X Films: True Confessions of a Radical Filmmaker. (Fun spoiler: Tom Cruise visited the set, and might have gotten a part if Harry Dean Stanton weren't miffed about their competing affections for the same actress.)

Thanks to Matos for recommending the Cox book (and me to eMusic), Michael Azerrad for Our Band Could Be Your Life (with a collaborative Bob Mould autobiography on the way), Douglas Wolk's own eMusic SST appreciation, Dave Lang's "SST Records Story," ilx, We Jam Econo (much better than I remembered--I love the early Minutemen show, included on the DVD in its entirety, where at least one young doorknob sits onstage facing away from the band throughout), Michael T. Fournier for uncovering George Hurley's uncredited authorship of the lyrics on "Anxious Mo-Fo," Joel Paterson, Paradise Records, Pete Rabid, Paul Hansen, and the Tar Babies, whose 1987 album Fried Milk is among SST's lost classics--all upchuck Hendrix, spry JB, and punk-soul Bobcat Goldthwait gurgle (clears the sinuses just thinking about it). I hear I missed a Killdozer reunion in Madison, but bring back the original Tar Babies lineup and I'll quit all my jobs. P.S. Somewhere my stepmom is still telling me to put this awful album cover away. (Okay, some nostalgia.)

10/8 update: The dozen also happens to coincide with a Los Angeles exhibit of '70s and '80s work by Greg Ginn's brother Raymond Pettibon, who drew the above Black Flag cover sleeve and designed the band's four-bar, rippling-flag logo, which still inexplicably signifies danger all these years later. The exhibit runs through October 18 at Regen Projects. More here.

Posted by Peter S. Scholtes at October 3, 2008 12:41 PM | Comments (0)

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