Fashion Suicide Film Factory presents Black Sabbath Resurrection

Host Zoetica Ebb takes you inside the launch party of Black Sabbath Resurrection at L.A. fashion hotspot 181 Martel. The post-apocalyptic exhibit was created by Dr. Romanelli and features the work of Nathan Cabrera and graffiti muralist Axis. Merchandise making its debut at the event included Lone Ones silver & gold jewelry, Converse shoes, T-shirts by Signatures, & Anachronorm Japanese denim. The installation runs through January 15, 2007.

I hate Bob Dylan so much it's hard to express it. There is no more overrated figure in modern music, and none more bizarrely worshipped. As far as I can see, there's only one good thing about him: watching desperate pundits explain the demented ramblings of the dottering Emperor Ming-looking motherfucker.

Everything that's supposed to be good about the artist formerly known as Zimmerman is something bad. Even though he was over-lauded in his early 60s Woody Guthrie rip-off phase, he "bravely" stopped playing protest music at pretty much the only point in American history protest music could have mattered. He courageously "went electric" after the Beatles and Stones proved it was big business, and only altered the then-popular-music-model by injecting a killer lode of pretension and shitty singing. And his over-praised impressionistic lyrical style has been the inspiration for so much bad high school poetry that he and all of his children should be burnt at the stake.

He's supposed to be the main avatar of smart pop music. I got news for him and all of his fans; "War Pigs," written and performed by allegedly dumb metal ensemble Black Sabbath is an infinitely more succinct, direct and accurate anti-war, anti-elite statement than anything in the catalog of Dylan, Baez or any other coffee shop staple. And it rocks.

So when the voice of an obsolete generation says "I don't know anybody who's made a record that sounds decent in the past twenty years, really," it's cause for grim celebration.

Really, you whiny, nasally voiced troubadour. Have you listened to any of the records you've put out in that span of time? I'm just spit-balling here, but I have a feeling that like most of your surviving audience, you put each one on once and shelved it along with the rest of your faded hopes.

And why would 1986 be your cut-off point? I mean, shit, they're not even my favorite band or anything, but that was the year the Pixies put out their first record. And that's just one example, one that doesn't require going into the deep cut record bins.

The continued existence of Bob Dylan is embarrassing for everyone. Sometime around 1966, Dylan was in a motorcycle accident. If he was the genius everybody claims he is, he wouldn't have pretended to have survived it.