Last Week I had a pretty bonkers dream and since I woke up and actually remembered it, I wrote it down. So now I can share with you whatever it is that's wrong with me.
Before I can begin to describe this dream I should make one important announcement. I have become a huge fan of Heidi Montag. I am aware that she's not all that popular. Girls in particular seem to despise her. But me? I'm a big fan.
A couple of things for the record. I agree with what appears to be the common consensus: When compared to other beautiful celebrities, HM is not all that pretty. However I suspect that if she walked into my office right now she'd be pretty darn popular. Yes I know she's all plastic and fake, but I'm not ashamed to admit that I think she's got a hot body. So there's that, I'm a terrible person.
Also I have never seen the Hills ("The City" however is a different matter and I am quite partial to Olivia). Supposedly my new favorite singer doesn't come off so well on "reality" television. Whatever. I'm not into her for her looks, or her personality. I'm attracted to the artist.
She makes bad music (and bad music videos) in a way that I don't think I've ever seen before. As far as I can tell it's a revolution. There have been plenty of videos lampooning her masterpiece "Higher" so I'm not going to go into too much detail about how much I adore this video (I've watched it hundreds of times now). Let me just give you a few quick highlights.
1) Count how many times she raises her hands out dramatically to her sides. It's almost her only move...almost.
2) at about 1:40 in this video you will see the sexiest booty move ever to be ruined by a lack of co-ordination. Ever. Period. This has to be on purpose. Michael Scott can't be this awkward.
3) My other favorite moments are parts of the final cut of the video that were obviously meant for the "behind-the-scenes-bloopers reel" and yet somehow snuck their way into the actual video:
At 1:00 Heidi actually falls (while attempting her "raise your hands" move).
At 1:57 Heidi actually stops performing to respond to something that happens off-camera. I dunno...some fan shouting hello? A whale washing up on shore? Something. We don't get to see it. That's the genius of it. The director leaves it up to US and our imagination. Brilliant.
Anyway, back to my dream.
The dream began with me doing something very normal. I was watching the Heidi Montag video "Higher". As you can tell, I know this video pretty much backwards and forwards, and it quickly became obvious that I was not watching the standard version of the video. It was some "special edition" with actual film cameras and crane shots. Heidi was climbing a grassy hill instead of frolicking on the beach and the centerpiece of the video is some man being raised on a platform high(er) above the water on a nearby lake.
Than I was the man on the platform. I am so high(er) above the water that it's positively terrifying. I can see a boat down below and I know that there is some sort of film crew there and maybe a party. Why am I up so high(er)? I can't even remember. I know I have to jump though and so I do.
I plummet towards the lake and fall for a long time. I close my eyes and stiffen my body...bracing for an impact that takes forever to come. But it finally does and the next moment I'm being helped onto the boat. For someone who has just jumped into a lake I'm surprisingly dry (and in street clothes). I also realize that the boat isn't just some normal utility vehicle. It's actually more like a historical cruise ship. Maybe an old steamboat? It's filled with rooms that are made to look like scenes from the 1870's or something.
It's also filled with beautiful party people. More specifically beautiful party ladies. College ladies. It's basically girls gone wild on a floating museum but not quite so topless. I think some of my friends might be on the boat. I'm pretty sure my cousin Eric is, but I don't see any of them. I end up talking to a stunning young woman while wandering through all the different rooms on the steamer.
We pass through bars and a comedy club. We walk along the deck (which now looks more like a modern cruise ship...holy crap I think I'm on the love boat all of a sudden). Anyway at some point it becomes clear that what we are doing is looking for some privacy. However, unlike a "normal" dream (where there are no real rules or consequences), I don't seem to hanging out on Fantasy Porn Island.
I'm struck with an actual moral dilemma. The me in the dream is the same person as the me doing the dreaming in one important respect: we both have a girlfriend. The temptation this opportunity is presenting me is so powerful, and I am very conflicted.
This is the "tossing and turning" portion of the dream. I know that if I submit, no one will ever know that I've done something wrong...but I still don't want to be the guy who does something mean and shallow. I want to be the good guy.
Anyway I come pretty close to being the bad guy but in the end decide not to (hooray...probably). Instead I go to the fancy restaurant and have dinner with some strangers.
We are all sitting around the table talking when this cartoon waiter, with a huge mustache comes by. He goes around the table unfolding napkins and laying them on our laps, then he slips something into my coat. It's bulky and heavy like a glass of some kind. It slips down the side of my chest and falls onto the floor.
The waiter looks at me like I've done something wrong, picks up the item and gives it to me again. I look at it and realize it's some kind of plastic urinal and bed pan. It's a contraption that will allow me to sit there and eat without having to get up to use the restroom. I assure the waiter that I am quite comfortable leaving the table and that I won't be needing those things. (Again...another moral dilemma solved by me)
I decide to exit the restaurant and return to the party. I step outside into the backyard of the house that I grew up in. There are people at the barbecue, people swimming, people in the hot tub. My friend Danika is there and she tells me that there is one crucial ingredient missing from this party -- Giant balloons shaped like tits, and filled with chili. Seriously...this is something that my waking mind would never have come up with. Never in a million years.
"They are so awesome!" She gushes. She is so excited about these...these things that she finally convinces me to go find some. They are clearly a "must have".
Strangely enough I discover that we actually have some of these in the house. I go across the street to borrow some chili and get to work assembling the titty-balloons.
My last memory of this dream as a view of my old backyard, drenched in sunshine and filled with happy people. Happy people who are bouncing giant inflatable boobs (filled with chili) around like beach balls.
Something you may not know about me: I am the worlds foremost authority on "Doug Rock". This is because I coined the phase and can apply it as I see fit.
This doesn't mean I randomly assign it on a whim. It describes a very specific kind of evil. My dream is to one day be able to search Wikipedia and find an entry on Doug Rock. Until that day. Here's what such an entry might look like:
**Doug Rock** What is Doug Rock? While the quality of most music is a matter of personal taste, it's a scientific fact that Doug Rock is some of the worst music on the planet. Some of its defining qualities are:
-- Band members who take themselves way too seriously. -- Crunchy guitars backing up wussified, cry-baby, lyrics. -- An obsession with power ballads.
Doug Rock bands are still fascinated by the "tender aqoustic riff" to set up the "crashing electric guitar climax". This trick is to Doug Rock, what arpeggios are to 80's metal:
It's a good trick, but lazy. It's like in movies when they kill the dog. Killing the dog makes everyone cry. It doesn't matter how good the movie is or what its about. Killing the dog makes us all sad. But you cant kill the dog in every movie, and Doug Rock bands leave behind mountains of dog carcasses.
Before I continue it would probably be prudent to talk about where the term Doug Rock comes from. A good place to start would be to ask, "which came first, Doug or Doug Rock?" It would appear that Doug came first...some 33 years or so ago.
Doug Rock bust onto the scene in the late 90's...a terrible by-product of those sensitive times.
The term "Doug Rock" was born (as you might have guessed) after I met my friend Doug and realized he had a special talent for enjoying the worst music on the face of the planet. He's not a bad guy...but he likes evil music. If you could smell music...Doug's music would smell like the worst farts you've ever smelt.
The tricky thing about Doug Rock is that its not a simple matter of looking at Doug's ipod and simply applying DR label to every thing you see there. Doug likes some good music. To help you avoid that sort of pitfall lets get into the history of Doug Rock and give you some classic examples.
Surprising Beginings:
A friend of mine asked me the other day, "Is Pearl Jam Doug Rock?". It's a good question with a subtle and complicated answer. The short version is: no. Pearl Jam is NOT Doug Rock, but Pearl Jam is RESPONSIBLE for Doug Rock. It's not the first time something bad started out as something good. The devil was the best of all angels before falling into hell. This is a good way to look at Pearl Jam. A signature band of the 90's; highly successful and critically acclaimed.But with their distinctive style and great success came the copy cats. Bands like Stone Temple Pilots released albums that were pretty similar. For the record, STP avoids the Doug Rock label...but only just barely.
Then in 1993...Candlebox arrives on the scene. Their insipid and uninspired melodrama heralds the arrival of a new style of music. An atrocity that we now know as Doug By the way, Candlebox's web-site is laughably addressed as: "candleboxrocks". Seriously. That's not a joke. Someone should go to prison for that.
Anyway their first album went quadruple platinum and music execs started falling over themselves to sign every long-haired, Nancy-boy in a flannel.
The next year Kurt Cobain died and to fill the void we got even more pretenders. Topping the list is the "Live" and "Bush" (these bands could be better named as "Pretentious" and "Vapid" respectively)
Live:
Bush:This is really the "golden age" of Doug Rock. If you could pull off that Vedder-ish "mumbly-growl" and sing about how pathetic you were, you could probably get yourself a polished music video and a gold record.
We close out this era in the late 90's with Creed. Who give us the same old shitty songs and cement the idea that mono-syllabic, one-word band-names go hand in hand with dull music.
What a bunch of fuckin wankers!
Seriously if you've watched all these and you HAVEN'T stabbed yourself in the ears yet...your either incredibly strong, or simply lobotomized.
Finally 2000 came around. I'd have hoped that the new Millennium (which I suppose was technically still a year off) would bring about the end of Doug Rock...but it was only the beginning. In fact 2001 gave us the breakout hit for what is really the GOLD STANDARD in Doug Rock. As you might expect...this musical sin comes from the same country that gave us Bryan Adams...that's right. Canada. People in Canada are just too nice to do rock n' roll correctly. For your consideration...I give you.
Nickleback:unbelievable. On the other hand...Nickleback shows us why the Portuguese are such a great people:
awesome. awesome. awesome. Hats off to you Portugal. You did what had to be done.
Nickleback ushered in a whole new era. Some bands try to disguise themselves as "nu Metal"...but they can't hide from me. I know Doug Rock when I see it. I'm talking to you P.O.D. you and your fucking "Charger's Anthem" that jinxed the bolts in the playoffs of 2006/07.
P.O.D. is actually a sorta subset of Doug Rock. It's a specialized set of crap that includes shitty rap-rock bands that wish they could be "Rage Against the Machine" (as opposed to Pearl Jam). Your Limp Bizkits, your Salivas, your Linkin Parks. They all belong to this subset. It's not Doug Rock "proper" but it's certainly worth mentioning.
Now that we are officially moving in the latter half of the first decade of this century...there are sadly no signs that Doug Rock is letting up:
Puddle of Mudd:3 Doors Down:
I mean it's unbelievable. I could go on forever. There's even an American Idol Doug Rock:
I mean...it just gets worse and worse and it must be stopped. Now I know that we all have guilty pleasures. I'll listen to a Doug Rock song now and then. I mean...the shit's got unintentional comedic value that is off the charts. But I think the time has come for us to take a cue from our brothers and sisters in Portugal. It's time to start throwing rocks people. Aim for the shaggy dome.
Well the Harry Potter series has finally come to and end. I finished The Deathly Hallows last night and spoiler free to boot. So for all the rest of you who have already finished it it's safe to talk to me again :)
In 1987 I was 12 years old. The USA and USSR were in the wanning years of a "cold war". Ronald Regan was my countries president. Lethal Weapon and Good Morning Vietnam were top films. Wang Chung was popular while bands like Nirvana and Alice in Chains were just being formed. The first Mega Man game and the first Legend of Zelda game was released for the Nintendo Entertainment System. While the Cosby Show was what everyone was watching, the Fox network also made it's debut this year and gave us shows like "21 Jump Street" and "Married With Children". Alongside those offerings was the Tracy Ulman Show -- a variety show that included some crudely animated shorts about a family called the Simpsons.
20 years later I am 32 years old and the Simpson family is still with us. There are few things in pop culture with that kinda staying power. I basically grew up with that show. I was watching the Simpsons before I was Bar Mitzvah. Which I think means I was close to Bart's age. Now I'm closer to Homer's age.
In 1992 when Bart falls in love for the first time I was dating my first girlfriend. A television experience that provided valuable insight for years to come.
A year later Homer returned to college the same year I entered UOP as a freshman. Certainly this program would prepare me for all the exciting challenges that were ahead.
hmmm....funny because it's true.
It's true that the quality of the Simpsons program has declined a bit since it's heyday. I don't watch the show religiously like I once did. I still catch it now and than and it's still good for a chuckle or two. Tonight I'll be going to see the new Simpsons movie to see how 20 years of solid character development, smart satire, and jokes about donuts translates to the big screen.
My expectations aren't really all that high, but they aren't all that low either. I'm really just sorta curious to see how it all plays out. I do feel like at this point it's probably time for the Simpsons to retire and take it's place in Pop Culture history. I'd rather it go out like Brett Farve a couple years ago (still got something to offer but on the downward slope) rather than Brett Farve now (what the fuck!?) *shudder*
So as many of you know by now, my favorite television show went and shut down Boston yesterday. It seems that a bunch of small electronic promotional adds -- placed near bridges and hospitals -- set off a panic.
I will first say the following in defense of the city. I suppose it would have been wise for the Turner people to inform the municipality about the promotional campaign. I'm not sure how the city would respond to someone saying, "hey we think it would be a great idea to put small, light-bright style, advertisements up that depict an 8-bit alien giving drivers the finger", but I'm sure they could have at least given the city a heads up.
I also know that if I was one of the millions of people temporarily inconvenienced by the whole fiasco, I'd be pretty pissed. I know that if I heard that my city spent millions of tax dollars because of some silly ad campaign from "The View" I'd be a lil disgruntled.
Despite all that all this talk of "Hoaxes" is just plain stupid. I keep hearing sound-clips from the mayor, and from news people referring to the ad campaign as a "prank" -- as if the cartoon network intentionally was trying to scare people when that's obviously not the case.
Here's what's really going on. There's all these dramatic pictures of men in Hazmat suits, surrounded by police cars and firemen, gingerly dismantling a light-bright set that depicts Inignot flipping the bird. It's pretty fucking embarrassing I'm sure. What do we do when we are embarrassed? We lash out and overreact. The fact is the people of Boston were made to look stupid and now "Someone is gonna pay".
I don't know who they intend to arrest. The head of Marketing? The intern who got paid a hundred bucks to put the signs up? and for what? All this fuss is over something that basically boils down to high-tech graffiti. I feel sorry for any D.A. that has to take on the army of Turner attorneys.
Meanwhile the fact that all this trouble was caused by pictures of the Mooninites is hilarious to me. It's so totally appropriate that this particular character causes all the trouble since basically their role on the show is to be complete jerks! It's like Aqua Teen come to life.
The last time I sat down to write about LBB it began the same way -- with me sitting here staring at my computer monitor -- trying to work it all out. Last time I was trying to sort through emotional highs that came from being together in Brazil.
This time it's all about the lows. I had been looking forward to Becky's visit ever since I left her in Rio. I had been thinking a lot about her and trying to sort out what I really wanted and what was really possible. I had big plans about how I would share these thoughts. Well...you know what they say about plans, mice, and men.
I wasn't really under any delusions about my chances. I was pretty sure I would have trouble convincing this girl to make whatever we have work. At the same time -- I didn't really feel like I had a choice. It was a real struggle between my romantic side:
I should mention that I'm almost certain that my sense of passion and views on love, heartache, and longing, have been shaped in good part by Motown artists. There's also probably a number of (non-pornographic) movies that mix in there along with whatever I witnessed from my parents (ALSO non-pornographic) that complete the picture. But those old Motown songs really strike a chord with me. I'm not sure what it is that makes this particular music stand out.
On the one hand it feels a lil melodramatic...but at the same time I think it's more honest as a result. When we get caught up with someone I think most people have a tendency to blow things out of proportion. I'm sure I do. In public I like to think that I come off somewhat rational and even-headed but I know in my private moments I'm much more "Ain't to Proud to Beg". Another embarrassing admission: "Just my Imagination" (even in happy times) still makes me mist up sometimes. I can't get over how fucking sad that song is. Maybe it's the desperation that seems to run through all those songs that I really connect with -- that gut-wrenching sense of longing that comes from really giving into it all.
Anyway. After several weeks of anxiety and some botched attempts to actually spend some quality time with Becks during her short stay here in the States, I finally managed to lay it all out and tell her what I had been thinking about. Unfortunately I had to wait till she'd made it pretty clear that she wasn't really thinking along the same lines as me.
I know that in the past I had said that the idea of maintaining a relationship with her seemed pretty ludicrous. But after thinking about it more and talking to a number of friends I decided: to hell with it. I knew LBB was a special person and worth taking a risk over. Plus I was having trouble thinking about anyone else. I always knew that my chances of success were low but I was still bursting to to get it all out there and let her know what I was thinking (even if it was retarded).
So when I did finally put it all out there I was disappointed to get the response I was expecting (in different places, want to be free and single in Brazil) but at least it felt good to have said what I really felt. I certainly don't blame her for wanting to be unattached at the moment. At some point during all my thinking about this I asked myself how I would respond if the situation was reversed and I'm pretty sure I would have reacted the same way she did.
So that's that. Chapter pretty much over I guess. I'm still disappointed. But I'm not shocked. The best way I can describe it is that it feels like I saved up a bunch of money to buy something special, but when I finally got the store that something was all sold out.
Finally when all is said and done, I consider the whole experience very positive. I'd make pretty much the same choices, even with the foreknowledge of what was eventually going to happen.
hmmm I probably should have actually used a Motown song as the title of this post...just goes to show you how complicated I am I guess.
Anyhow...now I can focus on my upcoming trip to Germany. It will be a great way to move on and drown my sorrows in beer and phallic meat products! Auf Wiedersehen!
Recently a friend of mine posted some of his early reactions to one of my favorite shows on television: Lost.
Hopefully Discostup won't mind me quoting him here: Some of the doctor stuff (main guy) is a little overboard as well. The guy's story about his surgery on a young girl (a solo pediatric spine surgery in residency?! Um...yeah) and his fear issues (count to 5 - it's fun!) was ridiculous; the story happens early and was so bad it just about made me want to turn the show off. Luckily it was only a small piece and eventually it's forgettable. But that shit right there belonged more on House M.D. than this show. In that context, some of the other medical stuff is bogus, which is I guess to be expected and with the exception of that one time actually isn't that big a deal.
Discostup is an actual doctor and in case you haven't noticed, doctors have been getting a lot of play on television dramas over the last 5 years. Anytime you have a highly specialized field, especially one that deals with the obvious drama of life and death, you've got the makings of something potentially glamorous. Because doctorin' is requires so much training, it's pretty mysterious to most of us.
It goes without saying than that if you are a writer for a show like E.R. or House (M.D.) or any other crazy medical drama, you probably feel pretty secure in making up almost any crazy senario that pops in your head. Your audience will have no clue that story is built upon shaky science. Or as Disco' puts it...Is complete bullshit.
All this means that Pop Culture keeps throwing out fantastic stories that only a small percentage of the population can really understand as impossible. I actually really enjoy listening to a real doctor tear into stuff like that. Not only is it somewhat educational (although most of the time the actual medical facts go in one ear and out the other), but trying to discern what the underlying frustration is can be entertaining.
It's not like most of us are caught by surprise when we are told that television embellishes, exaggerates, and invents in order to create interesting stories. Deep down most of us realize that even the most grounded drama, the most faithful biopic, contains at least a lil extra zazz.
So why is it so frustrating when that zazz trespasses on something we are intimately familiar with?
I was thinking about this and an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000 came to mind. In it a man has been bombarded with radiation of some sort. Naturally the 1950's understanding of this is that he would grow abnormally large...amazingly colossal even. According to the film, one of the downsides of getting so upsized (aside from enduring the humiliation of being forced to hang around in amazing colossal diapers) is that your heart doesn't grow enough to compensate for the rest f you. The reasoning for this?
Your heart is only made up of one cell.
one single cell.
one single enormous cell.
I'm no doctor...But I'm pretty sure that's wrong.
So I guess what's so frustrating about all this false medical information is that it makes it impossible to suspend ones disbelief. Which is too bad 'cause I was sorta hoping it was just arrogance.
Now that I think of it...I work in something of a specialized profession. Why don't they make an intense night-time drama about animators workin in motion capture? You could call it "MoCap". Like the title E.R. -- that's a lil bit of jargonized short hand for what we do (it stands for motion capture).
You could have the stodgy conformist boss who doesn't care about the art only the industry. You could have the main character who's something of a maverick..Constantly coming up with outlandish solutions of mundane run of the mill problems. You could have the sycophantic suck-up who has not real talent but kisses ass to a position of authority over the main character. Some fat guy for comic relief.
I could start throwin out terms like gimbles, platforms, pipelines, specular mapping, polygonal, and mash them all together into something totally incoherent but cool sounding. Throw in a bomb threat and a couple of haunted capture-stages and boo-ya! Emmy award-wining entertainment that's bound to piss off a few thousand people who are "in the know".
I have found some kind of temporary sanity in this shit blood and cum on my hands.
Your thinking that with a title like that this entry has to be good right? Let's find out.
Today I bought a cutting board. Specifically a John Boos & Co Poly cutting board. I have a wooden block, but I was told I needed a specific board for meats, and a specific board for vegetables and stuff so I can prevent things like "cross contamination".
It's precautions like this that give us our super sassy modern life expectancy I suppose.
Anyhoo I was casually glancing at the "care instructions" that came with my purchase and at the top of the list I found this:
"1. Do not allow moisture of any kind to stand on the cutting board for long periods of time. Water, blood, urine, and dish water may contain bacteria which can become trapped in knife cuts on the board."
Okay...So did I mention that his was a cutting board for preparing food on? Right. SO this is not like..A medical cutting board or a bathroom cutting board.
I mean. I suppose I can understand the blood thing. After all there are knives involved and accidents happen. I am curious about the person who clips their finger while chopping carrots, and figures it's okay to just let that blood chill out for a couple days after the accident. I mean cutting board or no...You would think your natural instinct is to clean up blood whenever its spilled in your home.
Also...What's' with the urine? Why urine? Why is urine on this list? For godsake what are people doing on or with these cutting boards? Why include urine on this list and not Semen? It makes one wonder...Can you ejaculate all over your cooking utensils and assume it safe to leave it be for a day or two? I'm pretty sure that the guy who needs the urine warning ALSO needs the semen warning. I may write a letter.
Lastly....And after the urine thing it's a minor quibble...Do we need to give dish water its own category? I would think that "water" pretty much covers all water. Sea water, sewer water, fresh water, distilled water...water. You're tellin me your gonna go the extra mile for dish water but leave out semen? This is a concern to me.
Anyway, let it be known that I have been properly warned and will leave _NO_ substance on my cutting board for any extended amount of time. You may dine in my home with confidence.
First of all I would like to send a big "Fuck You" out to the 10-year old brat who spoiled the ending of the Half-Blood Prince for me. You're a jerk and I hope you get crippling acne in your teenaged years.
Seriously people. Would it kill you to let me experience this stuff for myself? Chalk up yet another "mystery" and "surprise" that is significantly watered down because of outside influences.
Aside from spending time at Hogwart's, I've been keeping myself busy in the pursuit of something like romance. I wouldn't really say I've been wildly successful though, and I'm not quite sure what the heck is goin on. There may be some light at the end of the tunnel but it's been a confusing couple of months.
Rather than go into a detailed account of all this current stuff I figured we could take a look back at my very first girlfriend.
Those who know me remember her as Sara. But even those who know me well, probably don't realize that Sara was (technically) not my first girlfriend.
I don't actually remember the name of my first girlfriend...Although I suspect it was "Jenny" (Though that could have to do with the aforementioned time spent reading J.K. Rowling). Yea...We'll call her Jenny.
I think I was about 12 (13? 18?) years old at the time. I was playing in the lot behind my house when this girl and her friend approached me. We struck up a conversation which somehow quickly evolved into a series of tests and challenges that I was forced to perform in. I don't remember them being very difficult -- Crawling through dirt and jumping over various obstacles. Little did I know that this would be metaphorical of dating for the rest of my life.
Eventually I had passed enough tests to demonstrated a satisfactory ability to traverse an empty lot. The result of all this was that I was now officially Jenny's boyfriend. I started to say something about not realizing that was going to be the result of all my efforts...but before I could really protest I was being threatened by Jenny's friend who out-weighed me be about 50 pounds.
So I did what any other 12-year old playa would do. I refused to return Jenny's phone calls, and hid when she came to knock on my door over the next few days.
I'm not too sure how long this first relationship technically lasted. If I had to venture a guess I would say 15 or 20 minutes. Though when I think about it, it may not have officially ended until I watched Jenny flip me the bird through the peep-hole of my front door.
If you're my age, and remember the days of music videos on music television, you're too old to bring up this trite observation anymore. We've been preachin this gospel at social gatherings since before 1992. Shut-up already.
It's the small-talk equivalent of bad stand-up where every joke is how women like shopping, and men won't put down the toilet seat.
If you were born in the 80's than you weren't really around for those years anyways and you can't really claim to miss them. So you can shut-up as well.
Here's another thing. If people REALLY wanted to watch hours of music-videos, MTV would never have changed. It's not like they broadcast their shit to piss you off. They stopped showing music videos on MTV because music videos are FUCKING BORING. No one raced home from school in order to turn on "Yo! MTV Raps!" No one stayed up late to watch "Headbangers Ball" or "Alternative Nation" with (shudder) Ricky Rackman, or (wretch) Kennedy.
You turned that shit on when you were bored...And rarely do music videos ever make you un-bored. They just fill the empty space around you to compliment your (my) empty fucking life.
Now don't get me wrong. I liked Thriller as much as the next guy, and one or two music videos are fine and dandy. But you can't keep anyone's attention long enough with hours and hours of music videos.
People who complain about MTV not showing videos are fakers.
And please...Don't talk to me about MTV2. Who watches MTV2? I mean really. I like music. Despite what I said above - I like videos (to a certain extent). I've probably watched all of about 30 minutes of MTV2...Total.
Come to think of it...Does anyone watch MTV2 anymore? Does that even exist? Next time your at a party and you get the urge to try and impress people with the "No more music on music television" quip...Skip it and take the next step and say, "What ever happened to MTV2".
I've got a random bunch of media to talk about today with links aplenty. So fire up those speakers and we'll get started.
First of all...Even though most of my readers have seen this already...You should really check out some of the results of this contest. It challenged participants to take a movie and re-cut it into a trailer in such a way that the new advertisement promotes an altogether different product.
Second: Mashups. Mashups are basically just remixes, but the point of them is to take two disparate styles of music and mash them together. Sort of the "cover song" for a new generation. It's not an entirely fresh or new idea really but it's still pretty fun and there seems to be sort of "mashup community" forming. Or maybe its been there for a while. I can't claim to be on the cutting edge of culture all the time. Anyhoo...enjoy these samples that Fwats X passed my way:
Lastly: You should be watching Lost. I mean really. What's wrong with you. Go rent season one, do what you have to to catch up to season 2. It's some of the best TV I've seen in years.
Stand Up and Be Counted For What You Are About To Receive
Sorry bout the hiatus there but I'm Back In Black now so Let's Get It Up. Oh yea and in case you haven't guessed, I'm all sorts of fired up on AC/DC these days. This is not one of those things where I used to dislike a band or was ambivalent towards them and have suddenly come around.
I've always dug the 'DC.
ACDC was one of the first rock bands that got me on a musical path that branched out beyond the rap and hip-hop that dominated my boom-box back in Jr. High (that's right...I was that suburban kid who listened to N.W.A...and nothing else)
One of the first songs I ever played while learning to drive was "Thunderstruck" from "The Razors Edge". It was a warm day, I had the windows down, my sunglasses on, and the radio turned up. At that moment my mom succeeded in totally deflating me by asking in a disarmingly patronizing tone, "Feelin cool over there?"
well...frankly...yes...Until that moment I was feeling exceptionally cool. Like the biggest fuckin badass ever to drive a Volvo with his mom in the car.
On top of that "Thunderstruck" is one of a few songs that consistently whips me into a testosterone infused frenzy. I just get so fuckin fired up when those first bars start trickling into my ears.
(right now your nodding your head - saying yes to every beat)
"THUN-DAH! aaahh-ahhhh-ah ahhh-ahhh-oh aaah ahhh"
(something inside you is saying, "you really should be pumping your fist in the air with each syllable of 'THUN-DAH!'" Go ahead...Don't be ashamed)
By now it really takes all my efforts to keep myself from kicking something over. When Brian Johnson snarls, "You've Been...Thundah-struck!" He's certainly talking to me.
This rediscovery of AC/DC corresponds with my recent Ipod upgrade. By the way I have to go off on a bit of a tangent here. When I went to the Apple Store I was prepared to throw down for the 20 gig Ipod. I got there and was confronted with this price scheme.
Now...I'm already resigned to droppin a few bills right? I mean call me small-time, but three hundred bucks is a lot of money. But if your already gonna drop 3 bills for 20 gigs...What's really holding you back from going that extra mile for the 60 gigs. Three TIMES the amount of storage.
You might say, "I don't need that much space". To which I say, "Fuck what you think you need". Don't make me bust out some math on you...Cause I hate math but I'll do it. Your spending 15 dollars per gig with the smaller version, while the larger one costs about 6.50 per gig.
Maybe it's just me, but if I leave that store with the 20 gig Ipod...I can't sleep at night.
Anyway...The new Ipod means I'm transferring songs over to it like crazy. In the process I'm making a lot of discoveries. Some of them are startling. For instance: did you know I actually like a handful of Boston songs?! Yea...Neither did I, don't let that get out.
Of course amongst these epiphanies my long-dormant love affair with AC/DC has blossomed once again. AC/DC is really one of the ultimate rock bands. If you need proof go check out an live show by any up and coming inde/alterna rock band. In my experience there's a about a 1 in 5 chance they have an AC/DC cover song in their repertoire.
Why is that? Because they know (like I know) that AC/DC is silly and stupid enough to give your cover song a funny "ironic" flair to it. You just don't get that by covering some more legitimate classic rock bands. The songs are also pretty darn simple and I think those simple songs give the artist a broader canvas upon which he or she can explore their interpretations. I mean you can really work your own personal style into a song like "Big Balls". On top of that these three-chord wonders are full of standard, hook-friendly, rock progressions that are tried and true.
I mean, if pop music is a sandwich shop, AC/DC is the PB&J.
First and foremost...In case you were wondering, "Bewitched" is bad. Neither Will Ferrell nor Nicole Kidman can save this film. Go rent "Old School" or "To Die For instead".
Last weekend I was asked to provide a little "light shuttle" service (meaning a golf cart was involved) for a party my Stepmother threw at her house. The party was some sort of crazy "Hen Night", no men allowed within the walls (except for a few scattered food servers and musicians).
Age range of said women: about 50 - 80. There were a fair amount of women on both ends of the scale.
AT the beginning of the night I ferried many of them from their cars to the front door. Some knew me, others didn't, everyone seemed polite and friendly. At about 7:30 everyone had pretty much arrived so I joined my dad for a steak dinner at a place down the road, returning close to 9:00 to start taking the party-goers back to their cars.
Peter B, who was a neighbor with his own golf cart and was helping me out, asked me to grab him a drink from inside and I happily obliged.
Bad idea.
The scene on the patio in the back yard was...Unique. Like someone combined the "Ya-Ya Sisterhood" with "The Dirt" It was all booze, chocolate fountains, and awkward dancing.
At one point, 2 severely intoxicated older women grabbed me by my arms and began to earnestly engage me in conversation.
woman 1 - Your Mike's son aren't you?
me - that's right.
woman 1 - You're very handsome...You look just like your father.
me - well thank-you very much
woman 1 (turning to woman 2) - doesn't he look just like Michael?!
woman 2 (grabbing me by the shoulder and pulling me close) - I don't know who you look like...But you're really handsome.
I barely made it out of there alive.
A couple quick things.
I saw two cool bands who I was relatively unfamiliar with recently. Coheed and Cambria, which struck me as a total David (My friend from UCSC) band. Sorta good solid hard rock with a science fiction story driving all the lyrics. They were at Comic-Con as well.
I also saw Devotchka thanks to Liz's suggestion. This was a fantastic show and made me think of another friend of mine who seemed like she practically belonged in that band. It was sorta all over the road...Gypsy, Mexican, rock-abilly, craziness.
It's true. Just as the Birdman described...I stormed out of a movie recently because the kid behind me was holding a symposium on the presence of snow in the arctic climate that certain flightless birds tend to inhabit.
"Look at all the SNOW!"
"There's snow there mommy."
were both important themes in her lecture, to be addressed time and time again. She was also heard to comment on the film itself. Her insightful criticisms were summed up in this one sublime statement, "This is a SILLY movie!".
So I left.
I can't recall if I've covered this here or not but at the risk of repeating myself:
The Reason little kids talk so much and so loudly in movie theaters
The first VHS VCR was introduced in 1977 -- two years after I was born. A good VCR in the late 70s could run you about 5 grand. So my family didn't bring one home till sometime in the mid-eighties I'm guessin. I don't remember the exact year but I DO remember the first movie my family rented to play on our new VCR...It was Rocky. I don't even remember really seeing the movie, but I was fascinated by the idea that you could watch a real movie, uncut and unedited, whenever you wanted, right in your home.
I was probably about 10 years old at the time, and had already seen a number of movies in the movie theater. Movies were special, and the movie theater was a unique place that had it's own set of rules. It just made sense. You could only see a movie once or twice, because you could really only see it in the movie theater. So when you went there...it was a sorta formal place. You could have fun or course. You could laugh and maybe whisper a quick comment to your buddy or to your mom. But there was something special and different about where you were and what was going on, your behavior needed to follow suit.
Of course now, children grow up with crisp, film quality DVD movies in their bedrooms...From day one. They can be upstairs watching Spy Kids, be called down for breakfast and continue watching it in their living room, and then hop in the car and finish up the movie on their way to school (in the back seat of their enormous SUVs).
All of these are places where it's totally appropriate to say whatever you want (as long as your not cursing...you don't get to do that for a few more years), pretty much as loud as you want. I really think these kids...being so used to having movies around them in their houses...just treat their local movie theaters like just another big room of their house.
Meanwhile their spineless fucking parents sit there and do what they've trained themselves to do over the last few years of their lives. They just tune their kids out.
I'm convinced that a parent hears their own child at a totally different volume than the rest of the people around them. It's probably necessary to their own survival. *begin disclaimer* I know that all of my close friends who have kids of their own will train them properly on theater etiquette and they'll all be perfect angels. *disclaimer end*
To the rest of you...shut that fucking kid up already.
Here is the THEME SONG for today's blog entry. You can listen while you read!
Aqua Teen Hunger Force is my new favorite thing. I know I come into the craze a lil late as the show is already 4 or 5 seasons strong. The good thing about that though is that I can (and did) just purchase myself three rock solid DVD collections of the show and totally saturate myself with it.
I can't really explain what is funny about ATHF...it's certainly not witty or clever. I'll be damned if it doesn't make me laugh out loud at pretty much every episode. I would have to say that the character that really slam dunks the show for me is Carl. I think he's basically in the same seat as those of us who are watching the show...because for the most part his entire response to what goes on in each episode is "what the fuck is this shit!?"
anyhoo...if you haven't yet checked it out, do youself a favor and tune in. Unless your a girl...I haven't met a girl yet who likes the show. This may just prove that girls are smarter than boys. Ignorance is bliss I guess!
I submit that Hall and Oates crafted some of the greatest Pop Music the world has ever seen (heard). What a weird duo too. On the one hand you've got this sorta blonde pretty boy...totally ready for MTV. Next to him you've got someone who basically looks just like BabbaBooey. seriously...check it out:
okay maybe they weren't separated at birth or anything...but I see a resemblance for some reason.
Anyway...I always used to feel bad for poor old Oates. I remember seeing videos for "Private Eyes" or "Your Kiss is on My List" and Hall would get something like 80% of the screen time. It was always long slow tracking shots of this blonde mimbo clumsily emoting into the camera lightly sprinkled with quick flashes of a brooding Oates (who was probably bent outta shape for being so marginalized).
I was young but I could already tell that MTV was going to change (already had changed?) the face of popular music by insisting that it had to be a pretty one.
Here's something else.
Last night a friend and I were discussing the current state of Gasoline prices and I suddenly found myself thinking back to the days when I would roll into a gas station, stroll over to the window and plop down something like a buck thirty in change for just enough gasoline to get me home.
The last time I checked, that video of that kid dancing to Romanian Techno music no longer exists (or at least not from that link). It's okay though because the actual video is just as good really.
Al Franken also used the song as a bumper for his sohw this morning which made me smile.
Check out some video of the old Mini in action...Stay tuned for the "indo" at the end.
After too long a wait it appears that I will finally be getting racks installed on the ol' coche. A trip to REI revealed that conventional racks couldn't offer me a system that would support a surfboard so it appears I am forced to turn to the official dealer installed racks.
Luckily for me there is a thing called "the holiday season" and my family is gonna pitch in as a gift. HUZZAH!
I was talking to a friend about Captain Eo the other day. "Eo" -- as I'm sure you will recall -- was the 3d movie attraction at Disneyland featuring Michael Jackson as a space-faring swashbuckler. You've seen it right?
I remember seeing ads for "Eo" with Mark Hamill who would say, "People always ask me when the next Star Wars is coming out..." (This was post Jedi, but well before the prequels), "...Let me tell you -- this is the next Star Wars". Which sounded like a glowing endorsement until I realized that every product he spoke for and every movie premiere that would give him air time yielded that same glowing endorsement. "People always ask me about the X-wing fighters in Star Wars...Well the new Ford Taurus is the next X-wing fighter".
Anyway, I was looking up Captain Eo on the internet and I was surfing through all sorts of old Jackson stuff and it made me a little sad to contrast the old Jackson with the new one. Kids love pop stars, and Michael Jackson was THE pop star of my youth. Now look at him...ugh. More proof that most music stars should die young I guess.
Half-life and Half-life 2 is so freakin good I had to celebrate it with some permanent body art:
I blazed through Half-life 2 in a few short days. It didn't hurt that almost my entire social circle decided to leave town this weekend. I can't tell if it was too short, or I just spent too much time playing it. I think I'm ready to play through it again though. There is a neat little 2-d games Staring Gordon Freeman that came with HL2...maybe I'll play through that.
My other new addiction is the Harry Potter series. I managed to avoid them for a while now, but I sucked in after stumbling onto the "The Sorcerer's Stone" in audio format. A long car ride to Reno presented the perfect opportunity to follow that up with the audio production of the second book, and now I finally finished "reading" (listening) to the third one.
First off, Jim Dale does a spectacular job reading. A quick glance at his profile on the IMDB doesn't reveal a fabulous career, but he's a great voice actor. I prefer his performance to that of the child actors in the movie...even his falsetto Hermione. Although I imagine he'd look pretty silly in those robes.
(slight spoilers ahead)
One of the things I find really interesting about the series is the separation between the wizard world, and the muggle (non-magical) world. I have always felt that people who claim to really believe in the supernatural, would cease to find it fascinating if it were ever adopted into the mainstream. Sorta like indie-rockers when they see their favorite band doing car commercials.
The supernatural would be far less fascinating if it was found to be part of our everyday natural world. In the Harry Potter books, this is exactly what happens...sort of.
My basic idea of the appeal of the fantasy of sorcery is that it would give me an effortless way to solve any problem. If I had competence in spellcraft I would be free from almost all the basic rules and restrictions that regular people have to deal with every day.
The wizards in Harry Potter's world don't live that fantasy. Their world is FULL of rules and regulations. Not only that, but they are bound to the same economic problems and class restrictions that muggles have. There are rich wizards and poor wizards. There are complicated laws and rules enforced by a governing body (the Ministry of Magic) and worst of all, wizards are not allowed to perform magic in the muggle world.
So being a wizard doesn't really seem all that cool. Sure...your daily chores might be a little easier. But you still have to go to school, you still have to get a job, you still have to deal with all the bullshit that normal people have to deal with. You can never really use your magical powers to any advantage since the only context you can use them in...is amongst other wizards.
This is why the main character has to inexplicably return, year after year, to his abusive aunt and uncle on Privet drive. He spends every summer there, despite the fact that his gaurdians hate him, and despite the fact that he's almost universaly adored within the wizard community. It would be so easy for him to live elsewhere during those summer months, but the Dursleys (Potter's aunt and uncle), function as the only way in which Harry's magical powers actually seem cool.
At Hogwart's Potter is a top-notch student of magic...which makes him only slightly better than everyone else around him...sorta like the high school starting quarterback. At his aunt and uncles house he's not only unjustly oppressed, but he's fabulously special (in the eyes of the reader). Without that contrast the books would be far less interesting.
So every year Harry saves the school, and wins all the sporting events, and further cements himself as the Michael Jordan of wizards -- and every year all these people who love him send him back home for three months of verbal abuse and various other forms of torture.
Anyhow...despite all that...I find the series to be charming...and the perfect sorta books to listen to while doing the more mundane tasks of my work day. I've been told that the books get progressively darker, and this last one (the Prisoner of Azkaban) certainly seems to validate that opinion. It's my favorite so far.
