The Target Center seemed like an odd venue for a Gorillaz show. The arena’s cavernous interior seems better suited to basketball games and Lady GaGa concerts, but I soon realized that the Target Center was better suited to accommodate the sheer number of musicians on the stage. Most Gorillaz fans are familiar with the demented animated characters that make up the “band”, but in a live setting Gorillaz is an eclectic music collective. Last night’s performance included a string ensemble, a brass band, a group of Arab-American musicians, two former members of The Clash, hip-hop artists De La Soul, soul artist Bobby Womack, and, of course, frontman  and creator Damon Albarn. The combination of the live show and the animated clips projected on the giant screen behind the musicians generated an exhilarating sensory overload that I can’t recall experiencing at any previous concert.

The whole concert was great, but a few performances stroked my pleasure center just right: a propulsive rendition of “Dare”, a brass interlude during “Broken” that shouldn’t work but somehow does, a bouncy but bittersweet delivery of “On Melancholy Hill”, and a majestic finale in the form of “Demon Days” where the backup singers somehow manage to invoke the grandeur of a church choir.

It’s probably too much to hope for another Gorillaz tour of this scope, but I hope Albarn gives it some thought. He’s one of the few musicians working today who can put together such a sweeping effort and make it look easy.

Over at the Bad Cripple blog, William Peace writes about his temporary forced bed rest and how keenly he misses his wheelchair:

I miss my wheelchair, I miss the power it gives me to be independent. I miss the feel of upholstery against my back. I miss pushing against the tires and the intimate knowledge I have as to how I can direct it’s forward thrust. Why I even miss the dirt I collect during the day on the wheelchair frame-an absence my lab misses as my tires clearly pick up smells that are utterly fascinating. I miss watching a scary movie and the way I slightly rock back and forth. I could go on but I miss my wheelchair more than anyone can imagine.

I haven’t been without a wheelchair for more than a few hours in at least a decade, so it’s difficult for me to imagine being away from it for weeks at a time. It certainly wouldn’t take long for me to miss it. My wheelchair and ventilator are probably the two most vital devices in my life, but I feel a connection with my chair that simply doesn’t exist for my vent. The vent is a machine, but my chair is an extension of my personal space.

I’ve been watching the train wreck that is the Wisconsin Senate race with growing dismay. I checked the box next to Russ Feingold’s name in the 1992 election, just after I turned 18. He sent me a congratulatory note when I graduated from law school, which surprised and delighted me. And now it looks like he’ll lose to a know-nothing businessman with a lot of money and anger. Unlike a lot of Democrats up for election this year, he hasn’t tried to run away from Democratic accomplishments or give the cold shoulder to the President. It’s just bad luck that his number came up in a year when the economy has turned Wisconsin voters into frightened reactionaries. The Senate can ill afford to lose one its few truly progressive voices, considering that Bernie Sanders isn’t getting any younger.

It’s no secret that Governor Pawlenty isn’t a fan of health care reform. But when his ongoing refusal to even acknowledge the law’s existence starts to piss off the insurance companies, it’s a sign that he may be trying too hard. The federal government asked for states to comment on issues related to setting up the insurance exchanges that are envisioned in the law. Pawlenty wouldn’t allow those comments to be submitted, so the local health plans obtained the letter through a Data Practices Act and submitted it themselves. I have no great love for insurance companies, but at least they understand the need to actively engage in a dialogue with the federal government on the law’s implementation. Meanwhile, Pawlenty is acting like a craven politician who’s terrified that he’ll get a bad case of the pinkos if he even utters the words “Affordable Care Act.” His persistent efforts to will the law into nonexistence bear the rank smell of desperation. What’s more, the ultra-conservative activists that Pawlenty is trying impress with these shenanigans don’t show any signs of returning the love. But that won’t stop our governor from trying even harder to scrub himself clean of socialized medicine’s unAmerican taint.

Several months ago, I wrote about Ari Ne’eman, a young man with autism whose nomination to the National Council on Disability was held up because some advocates didn’t like his views on disability as a societal construct rather than a medical problem. Ne’eman finally won confirmation over the summer and he gave an extensive interview to Wired. He responds to the attacks (some of them pretty vile) that greeted his nomination and discusses the tension between people with autism and the organizations that claim to represent them (a common theme in disability circles). He also demonstrates awareness of his role as a representative for all people with disabilities, as evidenced in this response to one of the interviewer’s more clueless questions: