THE GREAT GADFLY:

Top Ten

1. Primal Scream's "Evil Heat": After months of almost picking up this gem (and one occasion when I thought I'd snared a used copy for cheep, only to later realize I had dorkaleptically bought an old Primal Scream album with a vaguely similar cover), I finally broke down and plunked down the bucks for this goodie, which comes complete with a bonus DVD featuring their hyper-satanic "Miss Lucifer" single. I love it that the music industry is having a nervous breakdown right now - the result is cheaper music and lotsa new bells and whistles, bonus thisses and thats - and "Evil Heat" falls into the category of desperate marketing. Right on. But of course, it's all about the music, and the tunes on this album are divine. It's not as thoroughly sinister as their last album, though obviously an album called "Evil Heat" ain't exactly gonna sound like Enya. Some softer sounds pop up on the album this time around, including the soothing lullaby at the end "Space Blues #2", with lyrics so apocalyptic I'm hoping Johnny Cash can live long enough to cover it.

2. The Avrilution: Because, like, you know - the Avrilution is SO not going to be televised and whatnot.

3. The New Nick Cave Album, "Nocturama": It's not out yet, at least not in the States. I'm salivating in advance, especially after learning of the album's 15-minute long finale, of which a Q Magazine review said "it's hard to recall any song, Dylan included, with more words." Indulge me, baby. Yum.

4. My New Job: It's so strange to be working at a job that I can tolerate to the extent of working overtime nearly every day (in my first two weeks, I've already put in two double shifts), without growing instantly disgruntled. What can I say? I may possibly have found a good environment, staffed with decent co-workers and - gasp - a boss who actually makes me LAUGH. Like, on purpose. I'm into it, man.

5. Iggy's Remixed Version of "Raw Power": I should be knifed for not owning this album until last night, but what can I say. I've heard this album so many times over the years, via roommates' stereos and co-workers' boombox selections and East Village fag bar jukeboxes, it never occurred to me that I should actually own a copy for myself. I'm told that the original mix of this album is better, as it's tinnier and trashier and more complimentary to the asthetic of the band and the times. I dunno. I'm not much of a stereophile, believe it or not. I listen for words and melodies, then for weird stuff going on in the background. I don't like playing with knobs and levers unless I'm trying to torment my downstairs neighbors. I like this version just fine. I want more Iggy albums, though shelling out the bucks for albums with only six or seven songs (most of which are on the "Nude and Rude" best-of comp that I already own) is a bit of a hard-sell for me. I've been eyeballing "The Soldier". Is it worth it? The cover makes me cackle.

6. Double-Digit Weather: Somebody up there likes me.

7. My New Yorker Subscription: The best birthday present. Ever. Nothin' says lovin' like a backpack full of subway reading, and a coupla weeks' worth of New Yorkers fits the bill just fine, thankee very much. My mama's da best.

8. Last Week's Episode Of "Alias": This week, I've gotten tons of Google hits from people looking for "Alias Recap". I feel kinda dutybound to at least offer a quick summary for those who missed it - and how sadistic to air such a cracktactular episode after the Superbowl? Pooperholes! So, well, anyway, here goes - alla you non-Alias types should move along to the next point, cuz I'm about to talk some shop:

Okay, so it's like this: the CIA finally brought down SD-6 (with Dixon's reluctant help) and Syd & Vaughn led a group of CIA gun-toting people in ninja outfits into the SD-6 offices and busted shit up, and once that happened, Syd and Vaughn pulled off their ninja masks and started mackin' on each other right in the middle of all the gunfire and mass arrests. Oh, and meanwhile, Francine and Will Tippen finally started swapping saliva last week too, though unfortunately Francine got shot in the head at the end of the episode...by her own clone - who, by the way, is in cahoots with Sloane, who apparently has known the entire time that Syd and Spy Daddy have been double agents. Sloane's been playing the Bristow family against SD-6, apparently to secretly bring down the Alliance (or something - who knows with this show). Oh, and as for Syd's revolutionary costume update, she dressed like a whore to get access to a plane carrying the server for the Alliance database. Number of people kicked in the head last week: Two, if memory serves. My theories: Dark Clone Francine is actually Ana Espinosa after major plastic surgery; Vaughn is a bad guy who's double agenting so he can get revenge on Syd's mama, and he's gonna dis poor Jennifer Garner bigtime before the end of the season. But I'm always wrong about this show, so don't listen to me.

I hope you "Alias Recap" Google people are happy now. I tried, really I did.

9. Buying Shoes: I hate buying shoes. Yet I must. I feel like all I have for shoes right now are soggy Kleenex boxes and mildewed moccasins. I'm the laughing stock of Flatpoint High, I'm sure of it. But I hate buying shoes. I really, really, really hate it. All shoes look alike to me. Do I get brown shoes or black shoes? Do I want shiny shoes or matte shoes? Do I want big boaty looking shoes or skinny pointy ones? Slip-ons or lace-ups? Boot-ish or shoe-ish? Oh, lordie - I don't know. And shits is expensive! I should just suck it up and buy some kicky-looking schmancy foot things, and get on with my life. If it were up to me, I'd just buy a pair of flammable phallic stilts from Marilyn Manson and wear those to work. I hate buying shoes. Yet I must.

10. 2003: Good vibes for this year, despite today's tragedy and the threat of war pending any moment. What doesn't kill us makes us stronger. Last year, crappy as it was (at least for me), didn't put me six feet under. So there ya go. This year is the Year Of The Upgrade for me. Getting rid of the crap and clutter, replacing the threadbare with the new, raising the bar for myself, working out better habits and rituals (hey, I've already started forcing myself to make my bed every morning). Now if I can only force myself to buy a new pair of damn shoes.