If you've ever just felt like there's something outside of normal life...this epic independent film based on the novel of the same title, penned by Blake Nelson ("Girl"), might offer you some consolation.

Because you're not alone.

Based around a teenage skater's search for something more than the world that dominates his waking hours - divorce that's not yet been made official among his parents, siblings with the same problems, and the ever increasing impossible scheme through adolescence - the film chronicles the crumbling mind of youth already in too deep after witnessing a murder he was all too familiar with.

The film is treated as a series of vignettes - never too light, and never too dark, with a back and forth woven story threaded with montages that tell more than a 150 page script could ever hope for. There is no linear sense in thought, but the events are drawn together like the mind of the young man himself.

To those who assume the film is laden with the traditional glamorization of skateboarding counterculture, you're way the fuck wrong, and to those looking for a film that's an extended and film noir Baker crew dvd, you're in the wrong place.

Because in all ways, this film transcends these realms entirely, while never leaving either. High school hallways filled with Strauss. Filming techniques that trick the eye. Dialogue that's too good to be on the streets.

To those interested in Gus Van Sant's continuing perfection of the delicacies that seperate independent film from Bad Boys II, you will be satisfied in the evolving style of complex camera treatment juxtaposed with times when it appears as if the lens has been thrown upon the floor.

This is one of those flicks that you're thinking about a week after last saw it, and a few weeks later, you're still thinking about it.

Or is it just paranoia?

All promoting the dull, lifeless minimum wage monotony that fills with smog every town, every city, every state, everywhere...and in some fucked up way promises the religion--eventual eternity or certain damnation beyond our imagination in reward or punishment for amends with obedience?

Sciences says YES! By reason, by logic...by everything that we know,

YES, we are nothing more than this organism of flesh and blood, a mortal being and not that of some supreme creation, not perfect, not incurable of disease or random anomaly, just a sack of skin and bones out to live a out useless existence until no longer breathing.

Why wait until a death beyond your control? Why not just slow down--don't be so busy and at least try your hand to make amends--and do it with care, with love, as best as you can. Then leave and shut the door as quietly as you can. Only a few people will hear it close, if you do your best.

Why not me?

TEN YEARS AFTER the epic masterpiece that drew upon years of history from arguably one of the most complex, well written television science fiction series on a major television network, an anticipated sequel was delivered to a small midnight opening audience and may not perform as expected as fire spreads throughout the blogosphere and in weekend movie guides in your local paper.

The film in no way draws upon any of the countless possible connections and extensions from the original film, in which a vast conspiracy is tightly wound and packaged with brilliant directing, writing, and acting.

Instead, X Files 2: I Want to Believe shows Scully in her prime as a doctor, who is once again pulled against her will but with her conscience led on wild goose chases by a pedophile psychic; a former priest who is poorly portrayed in the film and complicates the plot, which leaves fans of the supernatual grasping at straws in the dark.

There is a noticeable chase scene in the movie, but poor lighting and editing take their toll on the viewer; An xphile will be left uncomfortably squirming as the film drags on to a less-than climactic end. The infamous conspirators in Fight the Future are nowhere to be found in the film, further distancing itself from any continuation of the original story line of both the television series and Fight the Future.

Poor special effects (the few there are) and fundamental flaws in photography--awkward pans and editing, complete with quick zooms during slow, paced dialogue--further distract the movie goer from at least a credible stand alone film.

It gets an F Minus in my book.

By Brody Andrew Mulligan

MARICOPA COUNTY, AZ -- MANY hours before the sun rose here, coordinated in no small part to catch the eye of the press just a day before Father's Day, in an operation code-named "Operation Daddy Dearest," sheriff's deputies fanned out across the county, arresting approximately 70 so called "dead-beat" parents--those who are behind or delinquent on court ordered child support payments, according to an article published in The Arizona Republic.

While some offenders owed several thousand dollars worth of child support payments, others were reported to have been behind on lesser amounts--arresting such offenders, while within the law--may do more harm than good.

Partly because people in jail are unable to work, further complicating their economic stability in an economy that has seen better days, and in no small part considering the costs of housing inmates in county jails--financed by taxpayers--questions have been raised concerning the viability and integrity of the sweep.

While most agree the issue of proper payment of child support is important and lawful, the imprisonment of those who have failed to due so, in lieu of liens, levies against assets, wage garnishments, and bank account seizures, the economic and social cost of such an action in a jurisdiction burdened with more than a one-million-dollar-deficit has rattled the saber in this dry, developing county that seats the city of Phoenix.

Pro rata, Sheriff Arpaio's office is the named defendant in more more civil lawsuits than any other law enforcement office in the United States (approximately 2,500), including an ongoing legal battle which is expected to reach the State Supreme Court regarding Sheriff Arpaio's limitation of visiting hours for attorneys and other personnel for inmates housed in county facilities; a majority of such inmates have not been formally arraigned and are awaiting their first court appearance.

In the federal arena, another ongoing legal battle has Arpaio starkly front-and-center: The County of Maricopa, Arizona, led by attorney Dennis Wilenchik, in defending a class action wrongful death suit, Hart vs. Arpaio, has attempted to separate the County itself from Arpaio, in an unsuccessful argument brought before United States District Court. County Attorneys sought to continue a delay in the case which is purported to have lain dormant on a docket for three years before a judge recused himself from the case, allowing a new judge to continue considering motions brought forward by plaintiffs, civil rights activists, and the American Civil Liberties Union.

The case is unique in that the named plaintiffs have not been convicted of any crime--they are simply being held awaiting bond hearings, arraignments, hearings, and other legal motions.

Many, if not most of the plaintiffs are deceased.

Arpaio has been both hailed and condemned for tough-on-crime tactics that include the re-institution of chain gangs, outdoor housing to deal with jail overcrowding, and burials of indigents by inmates. Many grassroots organizations have protested the availability of healthcare, mental health services, and policies and procedures of the Sheriff's Department that may have led to the early deaths of several inmates in the last decade.

Mothers Against Arpaio, a coalition of women who have staged protests and rallies outside jails, courthouses, and other government offices--often enraging Arpaio, who reportedly barges past the protestors "red faced," continue their efforts to remove Arpaio from public office.

Once a touted member of the local Republican Party, which is loosing ground among newly registered voters identifying themselves with the Democratic Party, mirroring a nationwide trend among newly registered voters as the widely contested Democratic Primary battle between Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama brought thousands of new voters into the fray, Arpaio has failed to secure once solid endorsements from members within his own party as he prepares to run for re-election.

Plagued by debts from legal fees, hit by the rising cost of fuel, energy, food prices, and dealt a serious blow from the Governor's office when Gov. Janet Napolitano ordered a diversion of $1.6 million dollars in state funds from Arpaio's ambitious illegal immigration crackdown, Arpaio's office faces an unprecedented budget deficit this coming fiscal year.

Undeterred by death threats, a barrage of negative publicity, Arpaio vows to continue fighting for the law, those who elected him--and those who haven't--and re-election to the Maricopa County Sheriff's Office in November.

Speaking in 2002 to the New York Times regarding death threats against him and his family, Arpaio said "It only takes one time to die," politically, so goes the same.

In that small town fashion that L.A. displays so often--thousands of miles from Venice and Fullerton, I randomly walked into a gas station--I almost didn't get out of the car, but for some reason (perhaps an intervention of the divine)--I headed inside to accompany my mates, only to see him there, in which we'd embraced each other in a long, firm hug. Felt like I could see into his heart; in all its mystery

Then, tonight, we hung out.

He'd not changed much, in contrast to me with a darker tan and a loss of hair that only days, hours, and weeks spent beneath the California sun can produce, and we were both equally surprised to meet each other in such a remote place, we had an embrace that seemed to last forever; going back to the dreams of living within my head when I was only 15, and we sat next to each other, playing trumpet.

I was always better than him. Always better than everyone, and to this day I can pick up my cornet (a smaller, british version of the tried and true trumpet) and make it do nearly whatever I want it to do.

But the real fun is finding about his ways and means. Like me, he smokes, and has experimented with other things. We watched a movie and equally enjoyed it, and hopefully will be able to chill out tomorrow and hang out.

It's weird...some people you think are gone forever. Myspace and Facebook help people keep in touch, but I can't be bothered. The telephone and E-mail are enough for me, but I can't help but wonder, was it a fluke, or predisposition?

The problem being is that we'll both be involved with school in the Autumn--when the weather turns the leaves to flames--and our time is so limited, but that makes each day and night all the more important.

I feel like a part of me that was missing has been replaced and filled. I must confess that Conover was so much more than I remember. I forgot about the times we were with Mr. Belota in a trumpet class during the summer. The times were we in an honor band hanging around under the bright lights of the stage. The times we'd spent at his dad's; with other friends, swimming, hanging out, and sharing conversations about challenges and triumphs.

Perhaps he could be called the day-late friend.

I wish I could see deep into him and know what he's thinking of me. I hope it's what I needed. Some king of sign? I wish I knew--but I can't read his mind.

It's going to be a great summer.

Can't Love, Can't Hurt strays little from the band's signature combination of soft, driving rhythms and simple--but meaningful--lyrics, anchored by frontman Dan Layus' sultry piano riffs and intimate vocals, while also exploring a darker, more mature sound that begs not to be taken lightly.

Fans will surely notice a definite refinement of tone and style, along with deeper lyrics ("I ain't gonna make the same mistakes that put my mama in her grave") that hint softly at an effort to squash comparison and classification with Christian Rock groups like Relient K, Waking Ashland, and Switchfoot; Ironically, the original band members migrated from a conservative Christian college town in Illinois to Southern California, fulfilling a wish to (literally) distance themselves from an such an orthodox environment.

Seamlessly blending piano rock with dream-pop, Augustana dares listeners to a contemplate heartfelt, powerful tracks that shift between piano-and-vocals only vignettes of pure, ivory-pounding passion ("Fire") to ballads with hushed country-western influence ("Dust"), a sign that the group's small town, midwestern roots have weathered a migration to San Diego and scores of television appearances--a small piece of history that lends a big hand in shaping the band's future.

Still, despite the band's strength and potential, few tracks lend themselves to the fickle but strict demands of terrestrial radio--and while "Boston" was a success, the second single from their debut album, "All the Stars and Boulevards," flopped.

Time will tell if Can't Love, Can't Hate will again elude widespread popularity, remaining in a secluded but noticeable niche, or if the sophomore effort can parlay Sony/BMG's investment and marketing, banking on the fresh, refined, and less gritty tone that's already shown its strength online (an EP containing three tracks from the album released in February debuted at #2 on the iTunes rock charts).

This time around, a solid, well produced album--released just in time to be a perfect soundtrack to a leisurely, late night drive in spring nights that yearn for summer-- may be true enough to satisfy listeners and still leave them wanting more...

In what may be one of the most far-reaching applications of random student drug testing since a divided United States Supreme Court upheld the practice in 2002, Lewisville ISD's new aggressive, $437,787 campaign to combat teen drug use is meant to deter and decrease use, along with providing counseling for students already using illegal drugs, according to the Lewisville ISD.

Led by Daniel Delott, a senior at Flower Mound High School, a growing coalition of students and parents opposed to the testing say the school district's campaign is more like a crusade. Mr. Delott and his supporters have established a website, www.endLISDdrugtesting.com, which has gathered nearly 400 "signatures" for an online petition demanding a withdrawal of the policy, whose ranks increase day-by-day.

"Our school alone has had several students kill themselves under the influence of alcohol. Plenty have died from drunk driving. Drug tests increase alcohol abuse, so putting two and two together...I see a huge safety problem," Mr. Delott said.

The proof, they say, lies in the numbers.

Several major studies--one sampling over 75,000 students nationwide--found drug testing programs have no significant effect on drug use among students--which has been steadily declining in recent years.

In a March 2007 issue of the journal Pediatrics, The American Academy of Pediatrics recommended against drug testing teens at home or school, citing, among other things, a concern that drug tests may lead to increased alcohol abuse.

Students and their parents must sign a consent form authorizing testing if they wish to remain eligible to park at school and participate in anything from chess club to track.

Mr. Delott questioned the school district's sincerity regarding the elimination of drug use among athletes, citing a Powerpoint presentation exhibited to students and parents that outlined the substances to be screened, from marijuana to xanax to heroin, in which there was no mention of steroids.

Beyond numbers, opponents of the policy question its legality. The Fourth Amendment of the Constitution protects against unreasonable searches and seizures.

In the 2002 Supreme Court case, the majority found that the Fourth Amendment was not violated because a test among athletes and others involved in extracurricular activities was a "reasonable" balance of privacy rights against the government's interest in drug abuse.

The dissenting minority, voting against allowing school drug testing, cited notable facts: "Nationwide, students who participate in extracurricular activities are significantly less likely to develop substance abuse problems than [their] less involved peers," adding that such policies "invade the privacy of students who need deterrence least, and [risk] steering students at greater risk for substance abuse away from extracurricular involvement that may palliate drug problems."

The heated debate has produced mixed rulings in various state courts; many long, costly legal battles ensnare public policy groups and school districts, as the appeal systems in each state weigh the provisions within their own constitution.

At the heart of a possible legal argument is the requirement that a student requesting a parking permit consent to random drug testing; The Supreme Court's ruling did not authorize testing the general student body, and specifically ruled that a school district's legal right to drug testing is restricted to students involved in extracurricular activities.

An increasing number of lawsuits are being brought before state courts challenging similar policies under state law. The Pennsylvania Supreme Court struck down a school district's drug testing policy there, citing the state constitution protected students from a test without any probable cause. Last month, the Washington State Supreme Court unanimously ruled that random drug tests are unconstitutional, again citing the state constitution.

Though Mr. Delott has acknowledged the possibility of a lawsuit, he stated it would only be considered as a last resort. The matter has not been argued before the Texas Supreme Court. The most recent ruling before a State Court of Law in 2003 upheld drug testing programs; the decision was never appealed.

Social networking sites like Facebook and Myspace are rife with criticism regarding the district's policies, and many students are actively speaking out on the internet, creating groups to deliver news and information and organize students from several campuses. One student is reportedly distributing anti-testing stickers throughout schools in the district, and plans to continue doing so.

Ironically, the fundamental catalyst fueling the increasingly frustrated opposition--communication--is also what Mr. Delott believes is most important to truly address the issue of drug abuse.

"If [they're] spending time, money, and effort on our drug issue, I believe it's communication that will yield the best results without torturing students and insulting their parents. I don't know anyone who would protest a communicative approach to preventing and dealing with drugs in our schools."

When asked about the group's continuing efforts and plans for future courses of action, Mr. Delott replied, "we're just getting started."

Messages left with public relations staff for the Lewisville ISD seeking comment on the petition were not immediately returned.

Mr. Gonzales admitted to being under the influence of alcohol--"buzzed," as he told The Voice--when he reportedly approached two young men and a woman and attempted to make conversation; When he reached out to offer a handshake, he stated that his wrist was twisted, broken and stabbed with an unknown object, and kicked or otherwise struck on his back, leaving bruises.

Mr. Gonzales said he then notified bar staff and front desk personnel, but left the club after he was unable to locate security. Despite admitting to being slightly affected by alcohol consumption, and his serious allegations of aggravated assault, Mr. Gonzales did not seek medical attention until the next morning, when he awoke to swelling and pain in his wrist. He filed a report with the Dallas Police Department, claiming the assault was a hate crime.

In an initial response to The Voice regarding the incident, Rick Espaillat, a spokesperson for Caven Enterprises, the parent company of Station 4, stated Mr. Gonzales was unable to locate security because staff were responding to other incidents -- which occurred at the same time involving "the same suspects."

Later Mr. Espaillat, in another article published by The Voice, vehemently denied the assault occurred at all, despite an earlier statement in which he said that the three suspects allegedly involved were evicted from the club by security.

A police investigator assigned to the case stated that he has found no evidence to corroborate Mr. Gonzales' claims after interviewing club staff and management, but had not viewed any security video surveillance tapes from the night of the incident.

Defending accusations that his claims are without merit and, according to Caven Enterprises "an insult to the integrity of our organization," Mr. Gonzales told The Voice he has been a patron at Station 4 for "over twenty years," and had nothing to gain by making false statements to the police about an attack.

Mr. Espaillat and corporate representatives from Caven Enterprises have been reluctant to respond to media inquiries and disclose any information regarding the video surveillance footage.

A recent visit to Station 4 between the hours of approximately 10:00 p.m. and midnight on a Friday night found a lively club with a mixed crowd of assorted ages and ethnic backgrounds. Scores of people crowded the dance floor lit by swirling lights, strobes, contrasted with periods of darkness between songs--making it difficult to see the premises clearly.

Despite a thorough, constant patrol of the club's upper level, which overlooks the main dance floor, several sweeps on the main dance floor, and visual observations of the patio and billiard areas, only one security officer was noticed: seen from the outdoor balcony on the street entrance below, casually leaning against a tree while apparently talking on his cell phone.

An investigation of known incident reports filed with the Dallas Police Department from March 2007 to the present day found over a dozen incidents associated with Station 4, ranging from stolen purses, wallets, a person struck by a motor vehicle in front of the club, vandalized cars and robbery to a man who was wounded by a box cutter in front of the club premises. The number of similar incidents that occur but go unreported is unknown.

An analysis of known calls made to the 911 emergency dispatch center found that in the same period of time, almost 40 calls were made from or in reference to Station 4; Twelve of those calls were initiated from Station 4 staff, security, or management.

Security--be it perceived or real--is a sensitive issue for club owners and patrons alike; one incident can cripple a venue's reputation, sending people--and their money--elsewhere.

Club management and public relations personnel are particularly sensitive to inquiries from the media, well aware of sensationalism many press outlets seek to seize. Caven Enterprises did not respond to an e-mail seeking comment regarding the incident reports and 911 calls.

The Lizard Lounge, which features similar dance areas, was among a handful of similar nightclubs that also did not return calls seeking comment regarding their safety precautions and records.

A visit to The Lizard lounge revealed strict scrutiny of identification (on most nights, the club is open to persons 18 years of age or older) and several heavily built bouncers keeping watch over the main dance floor and areas above. Patrons interviewed claimed exterior and interior police presence on some nights (police were not present on the date of an investigative visit.)

Public records indicate that Lizard Lounge, while larger and arguably more frequented, has approximately the same number of police reports filed as Station 4 in the past year, though none were of a violent nature. A majority of the reports involved theft from vehicles in a parking lot or on the street near Lizard Lounge premises.

An analysis of known calls made to the 911 emergency dispatch center regarding The Lizard Lounge yielded a total of 26 calls; Only three were initiated by Lizard Lounge staff.

The perception of being in a safe environment is not influenced solely by a heavily visible security presence. Instead, a combination of word-of-mouth chatter, internet banter, appearance, and advertisement influence where many go for a night out on the town, regardless of their sexuality.

Many patrons interviewed within Station 4, who said they had heard of the assault claims made by Mr. Gonzales, said they felt staff did a proper job keeping the club safe, and were unsure of whether Mr. Gonzales was injured at Station 4.

"I wasn't there, so how should I know?," quipped one.

FORT WORTH, TX -- Repeating a scene played out across Texas in the final push before next week's democratic caucus, Senator Barack Obama's visit here drew a crowd of capacity that began filling the Fort Worth Convention Center three hours before his appearance.

Enjoying a widening lead in Texas over Democratic Party nomination rival Senator Hillary Clinton, according to a poll commissioned by The Houston Chronicle, Reuters, and C-SPAN, Mr. Obama arrived to a deafening sea of supporters that, at times, drowned out his amplified microphone with roars of elation as he made passionate points about healthcare, the high cost of gasoline, and revolutionizing the education system.

According to the poll, Mr. Obama is ahead in both Houston and Dallas--which hold the most significant amount of delegates in the state--with a 60% lead over Mrs. Clinton in both cities.

Responding to criticism about his ability to lead the country among a climate of growing anti-american sentiment abroad, Mr. Obama said--sternly--that he would "not hesitate to strike those who would cause us harm."

Mr. Obama acknowledged his respect and gratitude for Republican front runner Senator John McCain, citing his years of service in the Armed Forces, but starkly illustrated differences between their plans over the War in Iraq, which Mr. Obama has said he opposed from the beginning.

Mr. McCain has said that a United States Military presence in Iraq might continue for "100 years." In response to that comment, Mr. Obama said he would pull out troops and hoped to end a major military presence by 2009. Mr Obama pulled back his shirt cuff and exposed a bracelet, which he said was given to him by the mother of a serviceman that was killed by a roadside bomb.

Almost 4,000 military troops have died in Iraq since the American-led invasion in 2003.

In what some political analysts have said is overly ambitious, Mr. Obama pledged that many of his campaign strongholds would be completed during his first term as President of the United States.

Major security and traffic control measures were implemented in coordination between The Secret Service and the Fort Worth Police Department, with visible presence of magnetic wands and metal detectors at security entrances, and extensive use of bomb sniffing dogs screening the arena and press box.

After his departure, attendees flooded out of the Fort Worth Convention Center into the night, with police directing traffic to alternate routes around thousands of pedestrians.

Texas voters head to the polls and caucus on March 4th.

AUSTIN, TX --Three strong, they started on campus, toting album promotion for Jack's Mannequin; A once nightly tucked niche project of Andrew McMahon, the piano-pounding frontman of Something Corporate, now receiving the royal poster treatment deep in the Heart of Texas.

Under cover of darkness, on streets with treaded footpaths, campus enclaves between grassy quads, and plywood construction thoroughfares, they moved from place to place, taking just enough time to scope out the area, pull out a sizable poster and secure it with duct tape.

After midnight, there were few souls stirring about on campus--most everyone headed west or went out on the town to Sixth Street--and I quickly learned that my bright flash was not an asset in their environment, but was spared from paying it too much mind by the fervor and premeditated movement of the trio that made keeping my eye behind the lens a welcome challenge.

Once I snapped a thick impromptu kiss, an open air boy-meets-girl celebration, I realized the same rush of feeling they gained knowing a musician they loved would be at the very least seen, if not heard.

"Street teams," as they are known, are hardly ever paid or compensated financially for time and expenses associated with doing everything from passing out flyers to clandestinely slipping sleeved compact discs onto the shelves of music stores.

Some record companies offer point-based campaigning systems, allowing them to track the amount of advertising and promotion done, and many distribute demos, merchandise, and even concert passes.

In the age of the internet, digital music, and declining record sales, street teams give record companies needed muscle on the ground, sewing grass roots in hopes of growing green.

But for many of the thousands of tireless promoters, it's a welcome task that is not to be taken lightly. Like many urban areas, cranes frame the skyline and construction controls traffic along hundreds of streets and boulevards.

For places beyond college message boards, there are unspoken rules for seemingly random and rampant plastering of adverts. Unless the date has passed, common courtesy is granted to other existing postings, and care is taken to ensure that one's work will not be ripped away without merit.

But for the busiest streets or the newest construction facade, all bets are off--it's a war, in some ways--with the losers stuck with less-than-ideal real estate, and the winners crowning a vital intersection's electrical box. Seen by all those stopped going one way, and by all those going the other, for however long it stayed.

I wrote off some of my exhaustion to the pounds of camera equipment I carried, but couldn't deny that the whole ordeal was quite taxing and required a valuable luxury: time.

But for those who carry out the task, it's just another brick in the wall. Over cheeseburgers and soda before the outing, as they discussed locations, plans, song lyrics, and homework, Louis Miller perfectly described the ordeal.

"Whenever I can, I tell people how great this [or that] music is, and when I'm able to put up posters about albums or help get the word out about something, I feel like I'm a part of the band."

To learn more about Jack's Mannequin, visit http://www.jacksmannequin.com/

Deciding on a motion filed in County Superior Court by lawyers, psychologists, and other legal advocates, Judge Anna Baca ruled that the new visiting hours interfere with an inmate's constitutional right to legal consul and appeals, further noting that the unusually early hours would force hurried and shortened visits, violating an equality clause provided within the United States' and Arizona's State Constitution.

Due to take effect today, Mr. Arpaio has commented that he will not comply with Baca's ruling--despite denial of an earlier attempt to have a stay placed on the ruling until the case can be heard by the Arizona Court of Appeals

In the interim, Baca has issued a temporary order mandating the hours be restored and that both parties mediate while the appeal pends.

Judge Baca has not commented on actions her court will take if the Sheriff's office does not comply.

American Gangster is the latest film to join the ranks of infamous titles such as The Godfather and The Sopranos, directed by Ridley Scott (Blade Runner), the film explores the heroin drug lord Frank Lucas who, like his predecessor, ensares his community with drug addiction, but at the same time provides protection to blacks at a time before civil rights were fully respected by corrupt policemen.

I myself have always been amazed at the complexity and sincerity of Organized Crime, all the way from L.A. to Hong Kong.

And I'm not alone.

But what is it about gangsters--ruthless men who often kill in cold blood without hesitation--that draws audiences across generations; the same people who will quickly condemn connivence store robbers to twenty five years in prison?

Perhaps no character is more known and admired than Tony Soprano, an italian kingpin of New Jersey that brought HBO its highest ratings ever. Soprano is a family man--in more ways than one. After taking control of the family business, we see glimpses into his daily life, his past, and sometimes, his future.

Like much of his viewing audience, Tony Soprano came from a less-than-perfect home (what would you expect with parents in the mafia?) and is haunted by his past. Like half of Los Angeles, he sees a therapist.

His love for his wife, Carmela, and their two children lays the groundwork for the paradox. Often in one evening Soprano would pull the trigger on an enemy or rival, then come home to kiss his wife and hug his children.

Other times, after similarly violent or criminal acts, Soprano would come home to the stresses of everyday life in America.

Depressed and rebellious teenagers, nagging wives, and even simple frustrations such as unexpectedly running out of orange juice when juice is needed most.

In the case of Frank Lucas (American Gangster), we are shown a variant of the American Dream: A man can start from nothing, come from nothing, and become something; as Lucas says "You are what you are in this world: That's either one of two things. Either you're somebody--Or you ain't nobody."

At one point in the film, Lucas buys his mother a mansion--what son wouldn't love to tell his mother that she's no longer going to work a day in her life and will live in a home she once only dreamt of?

In the end, however, murder is murder, and crime is crime. But then again, if a murder puts food on the table and gives a man the status that is so often denied by honest, hardworking men, and he truly loves his family--what are we supposed to believe?

My first affair with the drug, crime ridden city was in March--when I plan on returning this coming year--in a small, one bedroom studio apartment nestled between old houses and the smell of the sea. I could walk to the beach, and in the summertime needed only a small fan, and only for a few days at that.

I didn't have much; I have never been one to collect much, and everything I own an need can fit within two suitcases. There were wooden steps that led past petunias and everything else that grows in the fertile irrigated, California sun.

The first night I was there, I'd been able to get pot on the strand (anyone who's spent any time in Oceanside knows the spot I'm talking about) but had no pipe and no lighter. I carefully emptied a cigarette out and filled it with the world-renowned California Green and used the stove to light it.

I sat, alone, against the wall an surveyed the barren room before my eyes. On the left was a small kitchen suitable for sandwiches, macaroni and cheese, and, of course, ramen noodles, and in the same room was a carpeted box with no clear distinction on where a bed might be placed, framed on the right by vertical blinds and a sliding glass door that was both a window and a door to the small patio.

I set up my air mattress an duct taped the new leak (it would always deflate by morning, no matter how many times I patched it) and hung my clothes in the closet along the narrow corridor that led to the small bathroom, of which there's nothing worth mentioning here.

I spent no time there, usually eating near downtown or at Angelo's, and left into the night to explore the streets of the town.

The strand ran for about a mile an a half until you reached the park, a perfect set of swings looking toward the sea, from there on it was private, but most nights I walked alone, and was never once spoken to, and only saw anyone else there a handful of times.

But my favorite place to spend hours and hours and hours was at the very end of the pier--some say the it's the longest wooden one in all of California--looking out to the east. Water going on eternally, waves black with the night were more often felt an heard than seen, splashing against the beams supporting the structure.

Every inch of visible wood was engraved by someone with something about anything, and I read it all. The cops kept a steady troll along the strand, usually being lenient about fires burning past 11:00, depending on the look of the group from the street, and if a drink was involved.

I knew few people in Oceanside, but in a town halfway between here and there (Los Angeles and San Diego), people mixed like a candy dish, and it was never hard to join a group talking shit around the fire in the light of the moon.

When the cops were near the round of the bend, a bottle of malt liqour or some other type of booze was passed around--from right to left--and the same went for any joints abound. The skateboarders hung out near the outdoor amphitheater, and the gangs had their spots as well.

The United States Marines Corps keeps the city alive and patches the wounds of drugs, crime, and immigration by keeping the world's largest marine base on the northern border of the city, and sending thousands of buzz cut, sunburnt and awestruck twenty-somethings from Middle America into a surfing town that grew from nothing into something.

That something is a city I visit everyday; closing my eyes and thinking back to the 5, waiting for me to return.

And so I've decided that the clock will now tick away, a little over three months, and I've got to do my best to get myself ready. I've got the proper medication to do everything right, but the ruined credit to get everything wrong--but this is America, and I can't bed my dreams beneath the ground, not yet.

If I come with a few hundred dollars in my pocket, or a few thousand in a bank account, I'm going back to Oceanside, back to where the start is: back to where my heart is.

Comcast and its partner/subsidiaries Time-Warner Communications and RoadRunner have denied that such actions have taken place--some websites claim to have obtained an internal memo directing employees not to discuss the issue with subscribers who call in and inquire about why torrent programs, sites, and other file-sharing programs have suddenly stopped working.

After an interruption to my internet service today, and upon finding that several of my regular--and legal--torrent applications failed to connect, I contacted my internet service provider, which happens to be--you guessed it--Comcast/Timewarner.

My call was escalated several times, until I reached the "top tier" of technical support. After repeatedly admitting to limiting access to LEGAL torrent networks, she finally referred me to corporate headquarters.

I am currently in the process of terminating my service agreement with Time-Warner Cable.