Nag Champa is not good incense, though many good and sincere people are of the impression it is.
I grant you, it smells better than burnt sawdust, perhaps “good” is relative. In much the way that well Gin is better than, say, rubbing alcohol, a delightful romp with a neurotic coke-thin feme picked up at 2:00am, at the Northside Tavern, beats an extended bout of celibacy (or tricking with sketchy sidewalk ladies found at Race & Findlay at 4:00am), and a frisch’s big boy fish sandwich beats fish sticks between wonder bread, hands down.
I rarely listen to music anymore – little of it inspires me anymore, I HATE the constant “song in the head” phenomena, and frankly haven’t had time. I’m working more jobs than an FOB third-worlder dumped in the middle of the big apple. Catchy “song in the head” loops just make me grumpy nowdays. I like my psyche to be mine, and mine alone, and not shared with random repeating tunes.
However I’ve just heard some songs from Paul Barker (Ministry, Lard) and Duane Denison’s (Jesus Lizard) new band, called USSA.