200 posts - and that's it

So, let me redirect you to confoundyous.tumblr.com. I'm going to be writing there from now on. Maybe more regularly. Maybe not. Maybe more interesting content. Probably not.

South Bronx is Akihabara is Damascus is South Bronx

DJs are clearly the geeks of hip-hop culture. Between operating behind electronic instruments and spending endless amounts of time searching for the best tracks in crates, these are guys who, like other geeks, are meant to live in many different forms of obscurity and contemplation. It's a perfect contrast, naturally, to MCs. There's an obvious affinity between the charismtic poet and the syncopated technician.

Both DJs and MCs also frequently rename themselves when they become a real musical act. This has also happened throughout history. The first canonical re-naming that I can think of is St. Paul, who was re-named from Saul by God. In turn, his mission was changed from one who persecuted Christians to the most Catholic of Catholics. This phenomenon of re-naming permeates culture, including hip-hop culture. This kind of rebirth leads to the creation of a "character" in music. It isn't the actual person who is saying these things or making these rhymes, it's the character. Does anyone think that Afrika Bambatta is really that crazy? That there truly exists a "Method Man?" Eminem, obviously, has explored this theme to perhaps overkill.

At one time, a DJ would thrive by playing tracks made by influential black artists like James Brown. Using James Brown today would be a throwback, but wouldn't really be considered creative in any way. However, it seems that music on the level of James Brown isn't being made today and so many DJs subsist on the detritus of pop culture, hoping to find a beat that nobody else has ever exploited. Other DJs have exploited the most popular beats they can find, mixing melodies and rhythms that are already widely known. This, to me, is what is most amazing about Greg Gillis. He takes the principles of hip hop culture, the beats, cutting, everything, and applies them to indie rock (aka white kid) culture. A great fusion and also one side of a widely diverging road - that between navel-gazing nostalgia and computer-centric beat-making, aka electro.

Forgotten Hereoes: Laura Ingalls Wilder

I've never read any books by Laura Ingalls Wilder. Little House on the Prairie always seemed a bit too girly to me as a kid. It fit in the genre with that other three-named girly author Louisa May Alcott and their English counterparts, the Brontës (whom I have come to thouroughly enjoy) and Jane Austen (whom I still disdain).

I recognize that this was probably due to proto-mysogynism at the age of 11. But anyway, I would now like to publicly repudiate an active dislike of Laura Ingalls Wilder. I mean, she started writing at the age of 65. Not everyone, in fact, hardly anyone, can pull off that sort of total reinvention in old age and fewer can be really, really great at it. I'm 25 and I already think I've peaked. My memory is getting worse and my mind is like a block of cement. Not so for Laura Ingalls Wilder.

Emo Diaries: The Appleseed Cast

The Appleseed Cast is pretty weird for an emo band. The first album, The End of the Ring Wars, aside, most of the material strays widely from the accepted turn-of-the-millennium formula for emo exemplified by Saves the Day or Alkaline Trio. Instead, these guys take their cues from U2 and Godspeed! You Black Emperor (but in a good, wholesome emo way... I actually don't really like those two bands). That's an awkward way of saying that the Appleseed Cast uses a lot of drone in long songs that typically have the vocals deep in the background.

I saw Appleseed Cast in DC recently at a show that was cut short because there was an after-party for a Ladytron show starting at 11pm. Whatever. The show itself was definitely enjoyable, but it made me think a lot more about the band. These guys just seem beaten. And not only because they were battling illnesses and were almost run over by a tornado recently, but through their songs and performances too. The vibe they give is different from most emo bands - there's a strong sense of doom in a very unironic way. Instead of writing catchy, easy songs for teenage kids, these guys went the opposite direction and paid the price for it. Here they are, coming up on 15 years of existence, and still being booted off stage by some English electro pricks.

It might be the Kansas thing that throws me off. But there's something much more authentically emo about these guys. No flash, no theatre, just pain and resignation. Nobody will be singing the lyrics at these guys' shows, there will certainly be no "whoa-oaa" moments, and if there's anything even remotely like a breakdown, it's hidden under eighteen layers of reverb. Yet their music still speaks, and powerfully so.

The Uncanny Absence of Idioms in Subtitles

I've never translated anything except the most basic sentences from foreign language textbooks, so I can't totally sympathize with their conundrum, but I feel for those tasked with writing subtitles for foreign films. I think a big reason why foreign films are often considered aloof or incomprehensible has to do with the crevasse between the words as heard uttered from the actors' mouths and the words as read on the screen. There's a lot of alienation going on there and it is reasonable that it puts off most people.

The weirdest thing, though, for even experienced subtitle readers (anime, foreign films, very-very-quiet screenings) is the total lack of idiomatic language in many subtitles. It's difficult, because even if what the actors are saying basically means something equivalent to an idiom in American English, the translator can't really use that idiom. It would sound really bizarre if Marcello Mastroianni said someone was a "dead ringer" or a "flash in the pan." But idiomatic language is an essential element of almost all communication in English and probably is everywhere in the dialogue of most foreign films. Just one of those layers of meaning that I'll probably never be able to unravel...

Rocketboom Concerns

So Rocketboom has a new host and it makes me very unhappy. I absolutely adored the former host, Joanne Colan. But she's gone, and the new host is this girl Caitlin Hill. The way I said that sounds kind of dismissive or contemptuous... and it's mean to be, kind of. She's not as beautiful as Joanne and even though she also has an English accent, it isn't quite the same. Somebody who knows much more about English accents could probably tell me exactly where Joanne's comes from and where Caitlin's comes from and could tell me all about what kind of a horrible person that makes me.

I also know that I shouldn't judge right after her very first appearance and give her time to ease into the chair and endear herself to me. And I will. I guess I just imagined Elie Rountree taking the seat and was unhappy that she was passed over too.

Great moments in post-punk/hardcore/whatever

Milo's creepy rapist laugh doesn't appear in this live version... which is unfortunate.



Ian MacKaye has my ideal life story.



Still can't believe I missed the two Rancid shows at Black Cat in 06.

Fiona Apple is my real guilty pleasure

I have a lot of guilty pleasures. My Chemical Romance and Gilmore Girls are two that I've talked about before to a lot of people. One I don't think I've discussed at length to anyone is Fiona Apple. The thing about Fiona Apple that makes her, probably, my most guilty pleasure is her legitimacy. A lot of other guilty pleasures, like campy movies (by far the most acceptable form of "guilty pleasure," to the extent that it shouldn't even really be considered one), ABBA, or Food Network can be justified in various ways. MCR hearkens back to my emo or Smashing Pumpkins days. ABBA is a derivative of my Stephin Merritt fetish and is ridiculous/outlandish enough to be acceptable. Food Network is utilitarian.

I should have no real connection with Fiona Apple's music. It's undeniably effeminate in more profound and robust ways than MCR or ABBA. She has little to no indie cred; her first album was probably her most popular and came out when she was 19 or something. There's really no reason why I should like her. That's why it makes no sense - there is no justification. For all my other guilty pleasures, there's some sort of 'out' - a reason why I like it. That doesn't exist for Fiona Apple.

Yeah, I mean there's the basic truth that the music is incredible. Tidal, beyond its 1996-esque cred, has about eight really, really good songs. The other albums get a bit more experimental, and that's even better. Her lyrics, also, are some of the very few outside of hip-hop that I actually listen to and care about. But beyond that, as far as image is concerned, there's no justification.

Wait a sec, here's a classic fall-back criterion to vindicate me - she's hot. I'd be all circa-1999-P.T. Anderson with her. I just wish she would come out with more than one fucking album a decade.

Fiona Apple |MTV Music

"Sleep to Dream" is probably the hottest Fiona track ever. You should listen to the drums from the first few seconds on at least mp3; this video fucks them up.

Fiona Apple |MTV Music

"Fast As You Can" is a latter-day Fiona banger that you might not have checked out.

Fiona Apple |MTV Music

A Fiona ballad; I wasn't able to get the video for any of the songs I really like from Extraordinary Machine. This song is pretty good too, though.

2009 is the year of indie adaptations of kids' books

Here's the trailer for Where the Wild Things Are, which comes out in October. I probably read that book. I probably owned that book. But the book was not beloved to me and in my memory, only a gray blur comes to mind. So, while this trailer is probably meant to target people in my demographic from several angles - indie director, indie band, childhood memories - it doesn't fully succeed for me personally. But it probably does for people who like Spike Jonze or liked the book a lot. I always knew that Arcade Fire song was meant for a trailer, though.

Fantastic Mr. Fox apparently intends to pull at the same heartstrings. I'll definitely be going giddy over that one, even though that particular Dahl novel never really made an impact on me at a young age. I wouldn't be surprised to see a couple other films pop up over the next 18 months that follow this curious little mini-sub-genre forming.

Random thoughts on "Born Like This"

• This album is definitely in the Vaudville Villain trope of grit and darkness. Little to none of the lighthearted attitude of many of the other albums pops up. Maybe that's the effect of taking a couple of years off.
• The rhymes are incredibly dense, as usual, but upon the first few listens, a few nice lyrics pop. I expect this one to reward multiple close listens, as most other DOOM albums.
• Raekwon sounds kind of quiet on his verse... like he was worried about being too loud or something.
• I don't know if I like the tracks that were leaked earlier best because of the familiarity factor or if it's because they're the best.
• Goes by "Villain" for the most part now instead of DOOM.
  
• Solid overall, but I was kind of expecting more.
  

Krzysztof Kieślowski is the Anti-David Lynch

Lynch:
Surreal, confusing, phantasmagoric; willful concealment of meaning.

Kieslowski:
Concrete, real ethical issues; upfront with themes and meaning.

This guy has no idea

Here's an article written quite some time ago which is somehow still on the internet about the chronology of the movie Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Because I am totally gullible to think excessively about frivolous things, the article provoked me. Yet, I completely disagree with many of the assumptions of the article and would like to put forward a FBDO chronology of my own.

The Film's Ten Major Time-Sensitive Events:

1. Sears (Willis) Tower trip
2. CBOE trip
3. Art Institute trip
4. Lunch at Chez Quiz
5. Cubs game (no earlier than the 3rd inning)
   
6. German heritage parade
7. Stop on the side of the road to check on Cameron
8. Swim in Sloane's pool
9. Go back to Cameron's and trash the Ferrari
10. Ferris walks Sloane home (explicitly ends at 6pm)
    

A Step-By-Step Examination

• Preliminarily, all calculations assume that Ferris knows exactly what he has to accomplish and is busting his ass trying to get it all done in time. Because Ferris is portrayed as more of a cosmic force than a teenage kid, this seems reasonable. (Another interesting teenage cosmic force - Zack Morris apparently has the ability to control space-time by calling "Time Out!", making him more powerful than many, if not all, fictional superheroes. The teen-god trope is taken to its broadest extreme in Haruhi Suzumiya.)
  
• Jeanie leaves for school at 7:45am. Ferris immediately calls Cameron, hacks into the school's computer system, and fucks around at home before Cameron arrives. This could plausibly take an hour, putting Ferris at 8:45am.
• Cameron and Ferris trick Ed Rooney, so by the time Ferris picks up Sloane, it's probably about 9:30am.
• Ferris speeds the 25 miles down the Dan Ryan from Northbrook to the Loop, taking 30 minutes, including the time it takes to tip the parking attendants. It's 10am.
  
• Ferris gets to the Sears (Willis) Tower and takes a very rapid trip. This is plausible because very few other people appear to be touring the Tower at the time. He arrives at the CBOE, where there are also no lines, by 10:45am. Taking a brief moment to reflect (doesn't really seem like Ferris's style except to bemoan the drudgery of the place), he heads to the Art Institute and arrives by 11:15am.
• Realizing there's a lot to do, they check out La Grande Jatte and the Chagall windows and leave, departing by noon. Presuming that Chez Quiz is somewhere in Lincoln Park between the Art Institute and Wrigley (a precursor to Charlie Trotter's?), lunch begins by 12:30 and ends at 1:15.
  
• Presuming a typical 1:20pm start, Ferris arrives at Wrigley just after the first pitch. The baseball game provides John Hughes with the greatest flexibility, as the only concrete information we are given comes when the pizza guy tells Ed Rooney that it's the third inning when Ferris catches a foul ball. So, Ferris could have left Wrigley as early as 2pm. However, assuming Ferris stayed at least a little longer, let's say that Ferris, being a force for good and not really caring about the Cubs (Hughes himself is a Sox fan) leaves the game before it ends at 3pm.
• They get back down to the Loop for the German heritage parade by 3:30 and Ferris sings a couple of songs. Let's say they're done by 4pm.
• Getting back to the garage by 4:15, they drive back to Northbrook. Including 15 minutes to care for Cameron's mental health, it's now 5pm.
• Swimming at Sloane's and reviving Cameron takes half an hour. It's 5:30.
• The entire series of events ending in the Ferrari's destruction takes another half an hour, putting us at 6pm.
• Sloane lives near Cameron and the walk takes a few minutes. Here we are given more concrete evidence; Sloane's watch reads 6pm. So we are forced to cut Hughes a bit more slack and say Ferris leaves the baseball game slightly earlier than 3pm. From here, the chronology is completely plausible and Ferris makes it safe at home in bed no later than 6:15.
  

So while I commend the guy who I've linked above on his close attention paid to the film, I think my analysis is superior based on knowledge of Chicago geography and some slightly more plausible interpretations of events. It would have been tough, but Ferris indeed could have done all of these things in one day if he were strictly on the ball.

It's kind of weird to think that a kid as chill as Ferris could be so strict about his time in one day, but he's clearly driven and really smart. Or maybe he held some sort of time-freezing powers akin to Zack Morris (but different in that everyone is still moving while time stands still). Anyway, all of this is clearly irrelevant because you have to give the benefit of the doubt to John Hughes in order to enjoy the film. I mean, thinking about this is about as reasonable as asking yourself if it's realistic to create a woman to do your bidding using a computer.

Also, check out this link for more great FBDO reflections.

Dazzle Ships is underrated and the last great OMD album

So, I guess I'm predisposed to like Dazzle Ships. I mean, I enjoy pseudo-totalitarian themes in art, synth pop, and baroque pop. (I once wrote about Heartbeat City as the epitome of baroque pop, but I think that article has vanished somewhere on the internet.) Regardless, I genuinely believe that Dazzle Ships is a very good album and is certainly better than anything OMD has released since. I really admire some of the more experimental-type tracks which are interspersed with the regular pop-type songs. Telegraph in particular might be as good as any song OMD has ever made, and that includes Enola Gay. I particularly enjoy the crazy tone that the multiple tracks give to Andy McClusky's voice.


Junk Culture is not a bad album but pretty much represents OMD beginning to atone for their more experimental side with a long series of pure pop albums. Architechture and Morality is clearly the best OMD album, but this one is more experimental while retaining a lot of quality tracks. Dazzle Ships deserves more love than it gets. Oh, and, Of All The Things We've Made is just as touching if not moreso than Souvenir. So mad points for that.

Coolness Hierarchy of Commonly Known Bears

Ok, so everyone these days is thinking about the bear market. I feel that real, actual bears are getting overlooked amid the frenzy. Here are several famous other kinds of bears, listed in my order of preference.

1. Polar Bear
   What's not to love about the polar bear? The world's most adorable bear is also probably the world's most vicious and toughest bear. Only thing this guy can't survive is global climate change but, uh, I guess we're working on that. Pretty much king of the hill in every conceivable way.
   
2. Grizzly Bear
   Also a really classic and great type of bear, but slightly below the polar bear because of the whole Arctic factor. Still one of the very best bears.
   
3. Chicago Bears
   I've pretty much always been a fan of the Bears' style of play through the years and I think it matches up quite well with what I think a member of the ursine family would do if it ran a football team - imposing defense and a strong ground game with a modicum of passing. Bears don't really take to the air that much.
   
4. Gummy Bears
   Gummy bears are one of the only solid-sugar type candies that I will eat. Many other styles of these candies are coated with sugar, and that's kind of weird. Some are excessively sour, which has its place, but I'm not into it that often. Gummy bears, when soft and fresh, are consistently delicious and pleasing, particularly if you stick with well-established brands. They also now come in vitamin-enriched forms, continuing the long tradition of tricking kids into taking vitamins.
   
5. Black Bear
   The black bear is not a bad bear, but he just looks kind of stupid. It definitely lacks the ferocity of the grizzly or polar bear. How can you take an animal whose nose and ears stick out so ridiculously seriously?
   
6. Berenstein Bears
   Even though I read most of the books that were published through about 1990, I never really got the Berenstein Bears. There was never that quirky hook that made books like "Where the Sidewalk Ends," Dr. Seuss, or even "Arthur" worthwhile. They were just kind of a deprived kid's neutered Simpsons while dressing weirdly.
   
7. Bear Grylls
   Although I couldn't do most of the things he does, Bear Grylls is still a pretty boy. His accent, good looks, and whining while eating snakes just render him intolerable.
8. Bear Bryant
   Never beat Notre Dame, Alabama fans still secretly bitter about it.
9. Panda Bear
   Pretty much the most overrated bear there is, the panda kind of sits around all day looking moderately cute, if you're into the panda sort of thing, eating bamboo. I think a bear should be fearsome, above all else, so the panda totally fails in this regard. Fans love its squeezeable physique, I just see it as weak.
   
10. Red Panda (not really a bear)
    

"Chopped" is a travesty

• 
• I kind of hate Ted Allen. He has no personality, at least on this show, and I don't have any reason to believe he knows about food in the same way that even a Tom Colicchio would.
  
• It's obvious that this is a Top Chef knock-off. It was bad enough when they had "Next Food Network Star," which sucked, but at least was right for Food Network. The skills it tested were more associated the warm nonsense that Food Network goes for than actual cooking. This show purports to be about actual top-level cooking, which is why is fails. That's simply not what Food Network is about, it's about home cooking.
• The ingredients are mostly things a Food Network viewer might find at home. It might seem cute and appeal to some, but it just seems contrived and weird to restrict real chefs in this way.
• Dessert is the final showdown between the last two contestants. Really? Something real chefs apparently don't really focus on at all is the last task?
• Because there are new chefs on every episode, you don't get to know them, so it ends up being another personality-less affair, like Food Network Challenge. At least on shows like Throwdown, you can learn to love to hate Bobby Flay.
• There's really only room in my life for one food competition show, and even that one spot has been being squeezed recently by the poor quality of Top Chef this season. Sorry Chopped.
  

There's often such a fine line between inspired and insipid

Inspired:

Insipid:


So similar, yet so radically different.

Quote of the Day

"(All together now, all you masochists out there, specially those of you don't have a partner tonight, alone with those fantasies that don't look like they'll ever come true - want you just to join in here with your brothers and sisters, let each other know you're alive and sincere, try to break through the silences, try to reach through and connect. . . .)

Aw, the sodium lights-aren't, so bright in Berlin,
I go to the bars dear, but nobody's in!
Oh, I'd much rather bee
In a Greek trage-dee,
Than be a VICTIM IN A VACUUM to-nite!"

From Gravity's Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon

'Play-to-lose' on Final Jeopardy is an abomination

Something strange and infuriating has been happening recently on Jeopardy. Contestants in second or third place prior to Final Jeopardy, even when within striking distance of the money leader, have bid zero or some negligible amount in the hope that all contestants answer incorrectly, resulting in a win by virtue of not losing money.

Take this scenario based on yesterday's game: Alex unveils the category - International Relations. Not so bad, right? "International Relations" is more or less code for history of the past 150 years and anyone on Jeopardy should know plenty about that. The money leader has $20k, second has $15k, last has $5k. The question is pretty easy: Over what country's airspace may America only fly 'hurricane hunter' planes? (Cuba.) Yet, it is answered wrong by each contestant. (Iran, China, and N. Korea, respectively. Idiots.)

Last place wagered everything and zeroed out. Second place wagered $1k and finished with $14k. The money leader placed the standard bet for money leaders, that is, twice the second place contestant's money total before Final plus one. Here, that came to $10,001. That put the leader prior to Final at $9,999, handing the victory to the second place player with $14k.

What sort of bullshit is this feckless strategy? Final Jeopardy clues are often tricky, but it is the rare clue that draws on hopelessly obscure knowledge as to be unanswerable. Typically, the clue provides several hints leading most intelligent people to the answer, regardless of the topic. (Yesterday, those clues were hurricanes and nations hostile to America - hence Cuba.) The 'play-to-lose' strategy is predicated on the assumption that the bidder isn't going to be smart enough to answer the question. I am stunned at this lack of confidence and find that it taints a victory.

Fine, the strategy can work. But only if you're a weak-willed conniver. It's kind of like taking the Don't Pass Line in craps. Sure, you win every now and then, but it's so contrary to the spirit of the game that you deserve a hearty amount of derision when you achieve victory.

Granted, 'play-to-lose' is occasionally acceptable. Last place contestants, where the top two are neck-and-neck, may play to lose. Truly obscure categories where a contestant legitimately may have no knowledge permit a play-to-lose strategy. (Yet, as stated above, well-written questions will almost always have an out for a smart contestant to make a strong educated guess even if he or she doesn't know much about the category.)

The inverse of play-to-lose is excessive aggression, which I really enjoy watching and would probably employ if I were a contestant on Jeopardy. My favorite example of over-aggression was a kid in last year's Teen Tournament who went for 'true' Daily Doubles almost every time he had the opportunity. Because he was really sharp and boundlessly confident, he had some success. However, like 'play-to-lose,' the strategy is flawed. It is based on the assumption that you can answer all of the questions, as opposed to the assumption underlying 'play-to-lose' - nobody can answer any of the questions. He was eventually tripped up on a crucial Daily Double involving Václav Havel. Poor kid. The difference between these strategies is that one is confident and affirming, while the other is cowardly and weak.

So yeah. Get some balls and bid like the trivia genius you obviously think you are. You're on Jeopardy - act like it.

An Old Statement in a New Form

A big phrase these days is "it ain't trickin' if you got it." It seems to be in every big rap song these days. T.I. and Lil Wayne in particular are noted proponents of the phrase. In its most literal meaning, the phrase means that spending a lot of money on a girl who has sex with you isn't prostitution if you were already entitled to it.

Of course, this is just a reformulation of an earlier expressed sentiment, "it ain't braggin' if you can do it." (Or "...if you can back it up." Sources vary.) This was said by Dizzy Dean, a Cardinals baseball player from the 1930's. Dean's sentiment lacks the sexual imagery of today's rap phrase, but the basic idea is obviously the same: flashy behavior is acceptable as long as you have transcendent talent. (Dean probably adapted this from an earlier source; I'm not accusing Lil Wayne of biting Dizzy Dean.)

No nuanced observations here. Just pointing out something kind of banal that I've noticed recently.

The Tam Diaries: Video Edition

A few years ago, I completed what I consider to be the definitive compilation of classic pop music songs post-Nirvana and pre-Britney Spears; my middle school years, the raw material that eventually formed my musical tastes. It is called The Tam Diaries. The compilation spans 15 CD-sized playlists and totals 240 songs. The first album contains the 16 tracks that I judge to be the most essential, most defining pop tunes of the later-mid-90s era. Here they are, without commentary.

1. Everclear, Santa Monica
2. Beck, Where It's At
Beck |MTV Music
3. No Doubt, Just A Girl
No Doubt |MTV Music
4. The Presidents of the United States of America, Peaches
5. Oasis, Champagne Supernova
Oasis |MTV Music
6. Green Day, Brain Stew/Jaded
Green Day |MTV Music
7. Puff Daddy & Foo Fighters, It's All About the Benjamins
Diddy |MTV Music
8. La Bouche, Be My Lover
La Bouche |MTV Music
9. LL Cool J, Doin' It
10. Puff Daddy, I'll Be Missing You
Diddy |MTV Music
11. Tony Rich Project, Nobody Knows
Tony Rich |MTV Music
12. The Smashing Pumpkins, 1979
13. Alanis Morrisette, Ironic
Alanis Morissette |MTV Music
14. Bush, Glycerine
15. Sublime, What I Got
16. Blues Traveler, Hook
    

Pit Stereotypes

• The Cute Girl: You don't have any business being in the pit, but you survive because every guy follows his instinct to protect you. Always safe from bodily harm of a violent nature, but a prime target for sexual advances.
• The Jock: You definitely don't care about the band but only about running into other people at maximum speed. Distorted guitars are an excuse for knocking down some geeks.
• The Needless Stage Diver: Dude, you're 275 pounds - don't jump from there, we won't be able to catch you. Ouch, you totally smacked me in the head with your shoe. So don't blame me if I take it off of your foot and toss it at the other side of the stage.
• The Guy With Glasses: Okay, so ethics demand that I try to make some space for you while you scour the ground for your glasses which are already probably smashed beyond all recognition, but that doesn't mean that I have to like it.
• The Fat Girl: So you're probably smashed up against the front of the stage and really like the band, but just because you push backwards doesn't mean that I'm going to respect your personal space any more than anyone else.
  
• The Supertwins: Yes, if you interlock your arms and spin around, you'll gain enough momentum to clear the pit. Good job. I'll be looking out for an opportunity at a kidney shot later.
  
• The Skinny Kid: I admire your moxie, but I'm only going to lift you off of your back a few times before I give up.
• The Indignant Edge-Guarder: The pit grows and shrinks at its own pace. You are not entitled to your spot even if you're standing completely still.
• The Legit Punk: I could really feel the Knox Gelatin when your spike poked under my eyelid and I think your bracelet might have pierced my skin that one time. I'm definitely too scared to run into you on purpose.
• The Bouncer: Dude... nobody's bleeding yet... everything's fine.
• The Eight Year Old: You'll be a scene legend someday, but I heard you kids still have a soft spot in your skull or something, so please stay out of my way.
  

Weird Qualities of Video Game Music

What makes some video game music so beloved? Why are there numerous bands that exist only to cover songs from video games made over two decades ago? I suspect the answers to these particular questions have at least as much to do with adolescent psychology as it does with the quality of the music, but video game music does have a number of weird characteristics that make it inherently different from regular pop music, which might partially account for its fandom.

Video game music is designed to play in endless loops. There isn't really a beginning, middle, and end like pop songs because a level could last an eternity. These songs are made to be listened to over and over and over. On the other hand, video game music is designed to make an instant impact in a short period of time. This is kind of the flip side of the first characteristic. It might only be heard for about thirty seconds at a time, or you might hear the game's song for as long as you're playing it. This was also caused by the memory limitations on early games.

As a result, there's a strange tension where, for the best songs, the melody is immediately identifiable and doesn't contain that many complexities, but you aren't annoyed if you have to hear that song forty times in a row. On top of this weird structural characteristic are the technological limitations of video game music. Now, music in a video game can basically be anything. But the most well-remembered music comes from the original 8-bit era, where composers were limited to four instruments at a time. Taken all together, these requirements led to a very different kind of music whose influence can definitely be felt on popular music today. I think there's a certain purity to video game music - when you are forced to strip a tune down to its most basic elements and squeeze it into a very tightly restricted space. Limitations can be liberating, in a way.

Emo Diaries: The Anniversary - Your Majesty

This album came out at the very tail end of the underground emo phenomenon in January 2002 and exhibited almost all of the qualities of the transitional emo-indie album. The very first thing you'd notice once you got your hands on the CD is that it was packaged in a paper case, immediately recalling the packaging of other completely legit albums like Something to Write Home About or Four Cornered Night. Once you opened it, you knew that the Anniversary had higher aspirations than your local bands who would never release a CD in anything other than a broken jewel case or maybe those flimsy paper/plastic envelopes that really fledgling bands give out. It was also on Vagrant, which still kind of meant something at the time.

The music also belied a deep desire to be an indie rock band. The prior Anniversary album, Designing a Nervous Breakdown was a confection-laden treat with synthesizer bursting from every crevice in the synth-emo style of Ozma or the Rentals (but less straight-up rock than Ozma and less Weezer-cred than the Rentals). Your Majesty eliminated the exploitatively catchy and blip-bloop-y synths for "majestic" organ tones and the tempo of ballads or dirges. Along with these changes, the lyrics also moved up in class. The Anniversary wanted a more literary tone than your average emo band, but ended up with generic poetry-ish lyrics that never really resonated with me, though I did think that the song Devil on Your Side was kinda badass... yeaaa.

I once saw the Anniversary open for Get Up Kids and then once headlining. The differences between those shows parallel the differences between the albums. The first time they were a goofy, hook-y emo band with a really cute keyboard player. The next time I saw them, the lead singer was wearing a fighter jet pilot's helmet like he was Maverick or something. That about sums it up to me.

Of course, in retrospect, The Anniversary is just one of several emo bands from Kansas to have more than a passing dalliance with indie. It could contribute this to Saddle Creek's Nebraskan influence, and on some level I kind of believe it to be true even though I have absolutely no basis for doing so. A hybrid band like the Anniversary is required to show restraint and taste to build up credibility as an indie band, but lack of restraint is pretty much the foundation of all emo. Yet, I still really enjoy the Anniversary even though I never became an enthusiastic fan at the time. Yet, their songs are still solid at their base and definitely worth listening to anytime I want to think back to early 2002.


Designing a Nervous Breakdown era



Your Majesty era

A Pedestrian Post-Colonial Observation

Watching Toby Young on Top Chef the other day got me thinking. One common trope in reality television is the use of a panel of experts that judge a contestant's worth, eliminating one person every week. Within that trope, it's incredibly common to see at least one of the judges be English. I think everyone can name a few. This phenomenon isn't restricted to reality television, as television authority figures of all types come in the English persuasion. (A particularly curious sub-archetype often recalls a dominatrix, but that's a digression for another day.) However, English reality judges are the most common.

I think that the prevalence of these characters sheds light on an underlying patriarchal relationship between Americans and English. We've heard since we were born that they used to rule us, we used to be them, and that we broke away to be more independent, more rugged, and more free. But the English still held the mantle of taste, refinement, and pure blood, in contrast to our messy, crass melting pot. (I should note that, of course, I realize this isn't the reality, but just a perception dominant in mass culture. I love multi-culturalism and Britain is almost as heterogeneous as we are anyway.)

In our secondary role, we still aspire to access that thing long lost from our cultural heritage, the link to royalty and aristocracy through the English. They know what's best. They're our cultural parents. Every truly bourgeois family has links via the Mayflower the old country. So who's better to yell at us, belittle us, and show us exactly how short we have fallen from their lofty standards?

Rocky Road To Dublin

Rocky Road To Dublin is a documentary about Ireland in the '60s that I first saw at a screening during undergrad. It's more than worth watching for many reasons, and essential viewing if you have any interest in Ireland. Not only does it strike at the heart of the romantic Irish myth that permeates culture today, but it uses many techniques of the French New Wave - both interesting visually and substantively. The repression in the country at the time is palpable, and despite some heavy-handed commentary, the theme of forsaken revolution still remains relevant. You've seen the caricature of Ireland - so check out how it really was.

Furthermore, the film was banned in Ireland for 30 years and its screening at Cannes in 1968 was shut down in sympathy with the May '68 strikes. So that's kind of cool. Also, for geek appeal, you've got cameos by John Huston, Truffaut, and Godard. And Godard's the villain. Heh.

Unfortunately, Youtube's quality limitations trashes much of the film's nuance, but it at least gives you a taste of what the film's all about and whether you should take the trouble to import the DVD.

Film Proper:
Part 1/7 - Part 2/7 - Part 3/7 - Part 4/7 - Part 5/7 - Part 6/7 - Part 7/7

Making Of:
Part 1/3 - Part 2/3 - Part 3/3

Sometimes, I take emo too far

So I'm just thinking back this evening about J.D. Salinger. Like many, my first exposure to his work was in sophomore year of high school - the assignment of The Catcher In The Rye. I really took to J.D. and his work immediately, being the severe emo kid that I was. After that phase, I became a serious English major in college and dropped J.D. in exchange for more sophisticated and important authors. Then, maybe about a year or a little more ago, I became more interested in his work than ever.

I don't know what exactly caused it. Certain theories might include concerns about getting older (a common Salinger theme), degeneration of my critical capabilities (something I worry about every single day), or - maybe - a true appreciation of his ability to construct beautiful sentences that resound with truth.

Here're my favorite Salinger moments in my personal history:

• Making a photocopy of the elusive short story Hapworth 16, 1924 from the original copy of The New Yorker from Hesburgh Library for a girlfriend, complete with a rainbow-emblazoned cover made on Power Point. (At the time, I disliked that short story greatly, but perhaps I should check it out again.)
• Writing inspirational messages on my mirror with leftover shards of soap.
• Listening in horror to a friend's story of manufactured hatred toward Salinger - his sophomore year tests included review questions on the number of keys on Holden's typewriter or some other such pedantic bullshit.
• Admiring the dioramas in the Museum of Natural History with more than a little bit of meta-respect.
• Finally piecing together a comprehensive theory of the Glass family.
• Thinking about Salinger every time I think about the name of the degree you get at the end of law school. (J.D.)
  
• Checking out poets almost completely due to recommendations in Seymour: An Introduction.
  

I do adore pith

This guy, who clearly has detailed knowledge of the St. Louis Cardinals baseball franchise, has put together a description consisting of exactly six words on every major player related to the team. Some are better than others, but it's still an impressive accomplishment.

Shoot the Piano Player is such a gem

• It's a ridiculously well-rounded movie that hits every emotional tone while maintaining and overall playfulness and never diving into deep cynicism. There are suicides, murders, and tragedy, but its charm is relentless.
• It really doesn't seem like a movie that's less than 90 minutes long - and that's a really good thing.
• Obviously very new wave, but doesn't fall prey to the worst stereotypes of the genre.
• Lena is a true ride or die girl.
  
• I identify with Eduard Saroyan.
• A film whose villains carry a musical lighter has to be at least okay.
  

Says It All

I was going to write something like this, but I'm lazy and not very witty, while Nostalgia Chick is motivated, smart, funny, and owns video editing software.





I'm becoming increasingly enamored of this woman. Though, I should note that I hate the main guy on the website. And that I've never heard the song "Christmas Shoes."