Track Listing:

1. Song of the Century
2. 21st Century Breakdown
3. Know Your Enemy
4. ¡Viva la Gloria!
5. Before the Lobotomy
6. Christian’s Inferno
7. Last Night on Earth
8. East Jesus Nowhere
9. Peacemaker
10. Last of the American Girls
11. Murder City
12. ¿Viva la Gloria? (Little Girl)
13. Restless Heart Syndrome
14. Horseshoes and Handgrenades
15. The Static Age
16. 21 Guns
17. American Eulogy
18. See the Light

Green Day has never been the most thoughtful, nor the most impressive band on the planet.  One could call them one of the most callow, stereotypically aware bands of the modern-day music scene, with political references so destitute of any measure of intelligence that it is outright annoying.  Take American Idiot, for example.  The title track spurts out lame propaganda by ways of idiotising Americans – hence the name, “American Idiot” – and the American media – much like the legions of the Bush administration and the hilarities that came with it.  How about “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” or “Holiday”?  “Just ’cause, because we’re outlaws, yeah!” shouts Billie Joe Armstrong in self-proclaimed dignity at declaring himself a rebel of the American government, which is as blatantly and stunningly immature as drunken teenagers who think they’re hip and cool for dumping shit into their systems.

21st Century Breakdown sounds like American Idiot all over again – Green Day attempting to transcend the mundanities of their horizons through self-declared Messiahship.  The Armstrong-brand idiocy is still there: “Revolt against the honor to obey / … Gotta know the enemy, wah hey!”  Apparently Bush’s exodus from the White House wasn’t enough of an upheaval to satisfy Green Day, who spit out protests for revolution mechanically.  For a band of such height and airplay (which I don’t understand why they possess in the first place), you could have expected hubris that’s more suave, more dignified – something that Kanye West or U2 brandish out in public and still get cheered for.

Even the way in which they lyricise their revolutionary fantasies is insanely out-of-place, as though they’re trying to be politically moving when they don’t how to be.  The fact that they believe themselves to be “the righteous and the meek” while proclaiming “death” to “infidels”, “undertakers”, and millions of other supposedly dastardly subjects of malicious evil makes it out as if Green Day are declaring themselves a regrettably parodied version of anti-US fundamentalists.

And along with their pained lyrics is the realisation that Green Day have not changed: the staccato riffs, the static sounds, the deplorable obstinacy that most effectively characterises the most politically incorrect, dimwitted trio on the planet are all still there.  When one mixes some of the worst attributes a band could possibly have – cliches, hubris (of the wrong kind), and a severe modicum of the ability to process intelligent thoughts – they end up with Green Day of the American Idiot kind.  Unfortunately, 21st Century Breakdown failed to oversee any sort of transformation that I would have liked Green Day to have undergone.

FINAL RATING: D

AP’s are finally over – and due celebrations have erupted all over the school.  The last two weeks had been remindful of the chaos surrounding a time bomb counting down to inevitable oblivion – frantic studying, alarming levels of distress, and sighs of frustration dominating the classrooms, the hallways, and even the P.E. bus on the way to the tennis courts.

And now that a year of unforgiving stress has now been completed - regardless of how potentially terrible our AP grades are – we can contemplate: now what?

1. SAT World History.  The despicable phenomenon that is the standardised test is once again looming over the horizon, this time in the manifestation of an SAT Subject Test.  I had hoped that I could wave goodbye – at least for the time being – to our Kaplan study guides as we sent them on a coerced trip to the incinerator, but that is sadly not to be.
2. Finals.  A threat to anyone’s happiness (or sanity, depending on the person) come the end of the semester, I have always been somewhat lax with final exams.  Unfortunately, I face the burden of pulling up my grades, and finals will undoubtedly be significant to that cause.  Damn.
3. Summer.  At long last.  A well-deserved two months of respite for everyone involved … I wish.  For all I know, I could be rotting away at hagwon all day, daydreaming of an SAT-free summer while knowingly doing a half-assed job of memorising a list of a thousand SAT words.
4. Junior year.  And here we go again, back at school for another roller-coaster of an academic year - only that junior year is most probably a much more distressing ride than its predecessor.  Oh, joy.

Let’s have FUN, guys.

It saddens me to death when I am within the confines of my room when the only way I can experience so-called “live music” is through the cybernetic wonder that is Youtube.

But oh well, here are four videos I’ve been wowed by – even through the rectangular pigeonhole of my MacBook screen:

1. “Bitter Sweet Symphony” – The Verve (Glastonbury, 2008)

“Slaves to the money, then we die!”  The Verve at their absolute best with their absolute best song – sure, they may have (supposedly, mind you) jacked it from the Stones, but Ashcroft crafted the immortal orchestral hook into a masterpiece of his own.  Maybe working for that boss you despise can be really beautiful after all.

2. “Where the Streets Have No Name” – U2 (Slane Castle, 2001)

The heart-shaped runway is one thing, and the massive crowd is another; but if you take the Edge chiming in with his guitar, Bono doing his usual thing – scream out at the top of his lungs – and the latter also running around the runway tirelessly, you’ve got what is undoubtedly U2’s most spectacular performance of any song.

3. “Fix You” – Coldplay (Toronto, 2006)

People can hate them (especially in their X&Y manifestation) all they want, but you must be heartless if your spine doesn’t automatically chill with this performance – the five minutes during which Chris Martin is not the affectatious, grandiloquent idiot he normally is.

4. Red Hot Chili Peppers at Slane Castle, 2003

I can’t actually pick out a song from this concert – simply because RHCP is at their absolute haywire best throughout the whole thing.  This is their opening ten minutes – an improvised intro, a solid rendition of “By the Way”, and more of Frusciante’s genius on “Scar Tissue”.

Sitting in an AP World History class, I can’t help but start to feel simply robotic and objective over everything.  Take religion, for instance.  The way the historian perceives religion is through migration patterns, ethnic borders, correlations with disease, and degrees of influence over certain regions.  Because we, being the ever-attentive students we are, have been conditioned to think in this way for so long, this is how we think when we contemplate the notion of religion – and we are proud of it.

But for what sake do we believe in our gods?  Can’t we realise that there is probably a personal tale within every single one of the billions of those throughout history who believe of a higher cause, a higher order?

Ever since I had converted from proud-to-be-stoic atheist to pious believer in the sixth grade, I had gradually begun to understand the very mountains that can be moved through faith.  Has anyone in history – ANYONE – had enough faith to accomplish the impossible?  No, of course not; that’s because the word impossible has already been drilled into their heads for them to even entertain the slightest notion that the impossible might just be possible.

And the honest-to-God truth about God is that He does not answer your prayers every time – simply because of our inability to exercise absolute, perfect faith.  We doubt that God will answer us.  We live desperately asking for guidance in what could emotionally be the most challenging, heart-wrenching times of our lives, and we feel that vengeful sort of hatred welling up inside when such entreaties go ultimately unnoticed.

But when we feel lonesome, destitute, sick, fearful, angered, worrisome, or all six at the same time, we can’t help but look to a higher being.  Why?  Because we need Him.  We need that source of light that will (hopefully) guide us to the outcome that we want or need.  We’re stuck in that intermediary stage, not sure of faith’s powers, but not without a slight glimmer of hope – and so, even when we lack faith, and even when (through our inherent, inevitable flaws) God doesn’t respond to our cries our help, we cry out more anyway – like we should.  It’s not as if we can answer all of our questions.

But there are people who doubt God.  People who doubt God and all that we’ve made up about Him doubt Him because, well, everything about Him are fabrications – in the literal sense.  Such tales are fabrications, not because they connote falsehoods and fallacies, but because they have simply been all a creation of an immature brain’s need for answers.  Religion predates science by centuries, and for good reason: religion works by filling in gaps within our understanding of the world.  “Hey, how did the universe come to be? – I don’t know … maybe it was God who created it.”  But science came along, and started slowly filling in these gaps – and who knows?  Maybe, given that climate change won’t decimate civilisation as we know it, we won’t need religion, God, and faith because science will have filled every single gap within our reasoning.  God may even be proven to be an impossibility – a simple tale, just like Santa Claus.

But if we had ENOUGH FAITH, then would it not be possible, even in the face of contradictory evidence, for such a Supreme Being to exist?

Just a thought.