Hello all, and a seriously belated Happy New Year. This time of year is about new beginnings, fresh starts, invigoration. In that spirit, I'm ready and primed to both rip and tear. Shall we?
My assignment this time around was Bleedin' Out, written by a guy who goes by Nazz Nomad.
(Bleedin'? Ripping? Tearing? It's like it was MEANT TO BE. Downright eerie.)
As atwitter with anticipation as I was to get started, it took me a couple of runs at it to even read this one. Opening it up means being eye-ball dry-humped by a Pepto-pink background. The kind of pink that should only ever be used by girls under 10. (And after reading posts dealing with free-wheeling drug use, good gravy, I sincerely hope the author's not a ten-year old girl.)
As well, there's a long, long, coma inducing list of labels and a blogroll that rolls on far too long. Nazz, you are by no means the only offender on the internet, but for the love of god, roll that shit up. It's all kinds of distracting, and keeps leading my eye back to the pink. And neither one of us wants that to happen.
But that's all cosmetic, taken care of easily. Once I ripped through that layer, I wanted to know who this guy was, why I should care.
I don't if he wants me to know.
He keeps telling me just a bit, little glimpses, that just leave me frustrated.
For instance, Nazz goes to Vegas, and sits one table away from Coolio. And then he tells me that Coolio gets weird. And then...well, I don't know what happens then, because either he doesn't think I can handle it, or he's just too damned lazy to expand.
He alludes to the fact that he's been through some shit. I believe that he truly has. But he has to show me, not tell me. If he picked even one of the incidents he touched on, just one, and told me everything about it - what he saw, what he smelled, what he felt, who said what? I guarantee it'd be golden.
Because obviously, he can make me care.
He even made me laugh. Out loud. I am not a fan of poetry. Or marijauna (I think I was doing it wrong.) But if the herb can inspire genius like this, well come ON, that's some good honest poetry work there.
He likes his music. A lot. It's when he's writing about music, be it the stuff he makes, or the stuff he listens to, that's when he seems the most passionate.
And then, as I was reviewing him, he wrote this. Which leads me to believe that when he can combine the passion for music with the grab-bag of experiences that makes up his life, he may have hit his own blogging sweet spot.
Basically, it comes down to this: You have promise with a capital "P", Nazz. Sadly, you also seem to possess blog-laziness with a capital "L".
Two stars, my friend.
And when you can put your whole self in, take your whole self out, put your whole self in and shake it all about (i.e. flesh out your posts)? There will be more stars.