“It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone.”
- Bart Giamantti
I’ve been staring at my computer screen for what feels like an eternity now. The little cursor keeps flashing but I just don’t know what to do with it. I mean how I can I possibly begin? There’s too much to say, the topic is too vast, too all encompassing. Too personal, yet too universal. It’s the article I swore Id never write. I mean there has been too much already written, too much said already. Voices as disparate as Whitman, Shaw, Carlin, Hemmingway, Allen, Miller, Frost, Steven King, and of course, Anonymous, just to name a very few, have all had their say, expressed their love and devotion to it. Poetry, films, novels, short stories, songs, and all manner of art have been devoted to it since the day it began. What can I say that hasn’t already been said? What truth hasn’t yet become cliché? There is nothing I can add so why should I bother? Well now you’ve gone and made me do it.
It’s all your fault.
I’ve actually already done it once before. In high school, sophomore year, we had to write a descriptive essay about a family member or loved one. I wrote mine about the Astrodome, the old baseball stadium in Houston. The paper was, taking my age into account, one of the things I’m most proud of in my life. Because while nothing is more important than family or loved ones, to write a description of one of them seems to me cliché, whereas writing about the steel and concrete home to a children’s game comes about as close to profundity as I could at the time imagine.
You don’t get it yet do you?
See.
You made me do it.
For those who may not know, its that time of year again. This time last year you didn’t know what to make of it. I was a semi-grown human being and I was shouting at people on TV to “die motherfuckers!” and instructing them to “kiss my ass you sorry losers!” I was yelling from the depths of my soul. I was slapping hands with complete strangers in the C-Store. You didn’t know what to make of it, but you grew to accept it with bemused curiosity. As time wore on, you even began to embrace it, checking the scores yourselves, coming out to watch the games, learning the names of players, and understanding why the Cubs are the spawn of all things evil. This year though it’s on a whole new level. I say I’m missing class to watch TV and you look confused. You hear yelling coming from my “cell” they call a room and you are scared more than anything else. You slip notes under the door asking, “are you okay?” You give me puzzled looks when I cant sit still backstage because waiting to hear how the game turned out makes me so nervous I can’t stop moving. Like a shark almost. You don’t seem to get it. And I’m tired of answering everyone’s question. The puzzles looks, the furrowed brows. So now I have to write this to clear it all up.
I had no choice.
You drove me to it.
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I don’t really wish to wax poetic about how “ninety feet between home plate and first base may be the closest man has ever come to perfection” or the deeper meanings of baseball and truths it can illuminate or any of that stuff. I personally don’t like making it all that heady. Really it’s a game that’s best when experienced on a gut level. But then all great things should be.
True story: My earliest memory is of a baseball game. The Astros versus either the Expos or the Mets, I can’t recall that well, at the Astrodome. My memory is this - standing on the concourse headed to the bathroom with my Mom, someone hitting a homerun and the scoreboard lighting up with the old electric fireworks display it used to do. My very first memory. And since then, a good majority of the best memories of my life have involved baseball. I never really played it, although I did try umpiring one summer. Mostly though I’ve just watched. And watch I sure have.
It’s the only sport that runs almost year round, and most importantly, is the only game around in summer when you’re out of school and looking for something to do and to invest yourself in. And so partially for lack of anything else, and partially for pure love of the game, I invested myself in it at an early age. Any sport that can make stars out of people with one arm, three fingers, a clubbed foot, or have its greatest icon be an uneducated, drunk, fat man is a sport I can get behind. It’s emotional on the most basic levels possible and intellectual on a level that causes growing numbers of Harvard business school graduates and professors to quit their chosen career path and obsess themselves fully with baseball strategy and statistics. It is often overlooked that Bill James’ Annual Baseball Abstract, a book filled with solely statistical analysis used to top the New York Times best seller list upon its yearly release back in the 80s.
More than just being a unifier of the heart and mind, baseball also unifies whole populations. Sports in general are perhaps the greatest unifying force we have. They are one of the rare things that can be experienced by entire groups of people in all the same way. Movies, theater, art, and even music are more singular, personal experiences, influenced and shaped by what each individual brings to them. The closest anything else comes is The Beatles, and is it any coincidence that some of their biggest moments came in sports arenas, and even more specifically, in baseball stadiums? Maybe, but maybe not…The Olympics are perhaps the most obvious universal example of the unifying power of sports, with high school football perhaps the most familiar. But sports’ undeniable power and necessity to a healthy society is evident all over. There’s a reason every society since the beginning of recorded time has had sports as an integral part. It’s often the only thing we have. It’s a common language with complete strangers, a link between the generations and a tie between the classes. But no sport fills this role more fully than baseball. After 9/11 what sport was credited with restoring our spirits? Baseball. What sport has inspired more movies more words and more art than any other? Baseball. It permeates our society in little, almost unconscious ways. Without baseball there is no Sandlot, no “reaching third base” and no name recognition for Abbott and Costello. This is all because no other sport is as concerned with and linked to its past as baseball. Other sports are passing, ephemeral pleasures - fun while they happen, some good memories for those who experienced them, and not much more. But only baseball inspires people to feel passionately about players they never even saw play, link generations together, and through its history, in cases like the Red Sox, provided an identity for an entire region of the country. If you don’t think that there is an inexorable and undeniable link between the Red Sox and the identity of any person born and/or raised in the Northeast then you obviously don’t have any friends from Massachusetts.
Baseball is also always happening in the here and now though. As Arthur Miller once said, “baseball is the purest form of drama there is”. It can be understood in any language and is more powerful than anything the human mind could on its own produce. The fact that it happens nearly every day for over six months in a row means that anything that can happen, will happen at some point. The highest highs, the lowest lows and then go to sleep and do it again the very next day. It’s a roller coaster ride that you can’t get off of. As Bill Simmons once said “if baseball were a girl you would have broken up with her long ago”. But you cant because you’re trapped. But like almost any relationship, after the pain of the bad fades away, what sticks with you are the good times. And that’s why even though I may die before my team wins it all, I will always enjoy the ride, and Ill always stay on as long as I know that someday they might.
All this being said though, I don’t know if it’s a ride you can get on halfway through. I think on a certain level you have to have been born with it, raised on it, and have a family who planned vacations around it. And thats okay I guess. I can’t get everyone, or even ANYone to embrace the game of baseball. But I hope you CAN embrace the IDEA of baseball. The concept of feeling so strongly about something that even when it causes you unbearable pain you stick with it. Something that can make you weep for joy, yell yourself horse and embrace complete strangers. To know passion that you couldn’t turn off even if you wanted to. So whatever it might be that gets you going, go with it and go all out. Because if you don’t go all out, then what’s the point? I could be a “casual fan” but what’s the fun in that? So whatever it is, find your baseball and don’t let go. Because from too many people over the next few weeks I’m sure Ill get looks that say:
“I don’t get it?”
“How can you get so worked up about something?”
“What’s your deal?”
or
“Are you crazy?”
Well you can call me crazy, but maybe that just means you need a little crazy in YOUR life.
Top 3 & 1/2 of the Week:
1.) Astros Baseball
2.) "Arcadia" by Tom Stoppard
3.) German Romanticism
3 & 1/2.) Popcorn
Monday, October 11, 2004
Tuesday, October 05, 2004
So I Guess That Makes Jimmy Kimmel Ralph Nader...
(Well, many of you seem to have enjoyed last week’s “Marymount Musings” far too much, so as punishment, this week it’s back to more preachy rantings. Now I don’t want to hear about you enjoying yourself while reading ever again…)
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If you’ve been contemplating suicide, you should really put it off until at least 2009.
Because in 2009 not only will Barrack Obama will be sworn in as president, but, as was announced last week, Conan O’Brien will be sworn in as the new host of The Tonight Show. This will undo one of the most egregious sins in television history, the giving of The Tonight Show hosting job to a man the majority of the people didn’t want - Jay Leno. How and why this came about is detailed in one of the best books I’ve ever read, “The Late Shift” by Bill Carter, and it’s an amazingly engrossing page-turner you should pick up if you ever get a chance. But that’s neither here nor there. We can’t dwell on what could have or should have been. We have to deal with the here and now. And so until Conan assumes his rightful place in just over four years, we have to look at what we are stuck with. Examine the current administration if you will. And if you’ll examine it with me, you’ll realize that we can’t wait over four more years. We need change now.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Dave or Jay”?
It’s one of those questions that can tell you a lot about someone.
Like:
“Paul or John?”
“Lindsey Lohan or Hilary Duff?”
“Paper or plastic?”
“Analyze This or Analyze That?”
“Bush or Kerry”
But really, what DOES it tell you?
Well let’s look at the two shows. They each have reoccurring comedy bits they do. One of the most popular on Dave’s show is “Will It Float?” In the “bit”, a screen is raised to reveal a tank of water and an object that will be dropped into that night. Dave and Paul discuss at length whether they think the item will float or sink. All the while, for no reason at all, a girl stands to one side of the tank twirling hula hoops and another girl wears what looks like an outfitter a stripper would wear in outer space and runs a grinder along a plate on her stomach while sparks fly everywhere. The presence of the two girls is never acknowledged or commented on in any way. The item is then dropped into the pool and either sinks or floats. Then the curtain lowers. And that’s it. That’s the comedy. There are many variations on this bit including “Hairpiece, Not a Hairpiece” “Millionaire, or A Guy Named Kenny” and, in the high point of the entire history of random comedy, “Potatoes, or Gavin McCloud”. One of the most popular of Jay’s “bits” is “Iron Jay” in which Jay makes jokes about current events while his face is reflected in a mirror that stretches out his features.
So to recap: comic brilliance vs. guy making funny faces in a mirror.
There are many more differences between the two shows too. One seems to love to have appearances by pro wrestlers, athletes and the hottest celebrities of the moment. The other prefers Regis Philbin, news anchors and Amy Sedaris. One show has a host who tries to be the focus of each interview by telling jokes at his guest’s expense. The other show has a host who tries to deflect so much attention from himself that he has done exactly one interview in the past eight years and talks about his life so little on air that even die hard fans don’t know that name of the mother of his newborn child. One show is openly despised by critics and anyone who cares passionately about quality entertainment and/or comedy. The other has won the Emmy in its category five of the past six years. I could go on for days but I think the point I’m trying to make can be crystallized with one simple comparison: the way in which “common people” are used on the shows.
On The Tonight Show, Jay’s most popular usage of regular non-celebrity folks is in a segment called “Jaywalking”. He goes out on the street and asks people seemingly simple questions and then waits while they either don’t know the answer or answer incorrectly. Then we all get to laugh at them. Because they are stupid. The most popular way Dave uses real people is in a segment called “Stupid Human Tricks” which, despite the name, feature people who carry on intelligent conversations with Dave before showing off random talents they have.
So to recap: One segment features the phrase “stupid human” in its title; the other features actual stupid humans. One show celebrates people’s dumbness; the other celebrates people’s talents. One show features comedy that panders to the lower common denominator. The other show does cutting edge comedy and trusts that its audience will be smart enough to appreciate it. One show aims for the heights of human creativity; the other peddles formulaic schlock.
And one show, Jay’s show, since 1996, the year of the Republican take over of Congress, has trounced the other in the ratings.
That means that the majority of American prefer Jay’s show to Dave’s show. Prefer an everyman simpleton host to a host who seems reserved and distant. Prefer well-worn old-fashioned comedy to progressive, hip humor. Prefer stupidity to intelligence.
And that is why the fact that The Tonight Show beats The Late Show in the ratings, for me, best encapsulates all that is wrong with America.
But we can make a difference. Each and every one of us. We have a choice. And now is the time to make that choice heard. What once seemed like an insurmountable lead in the ratings has dwindled by the day. Each day when new numbers come out they show the gap is closing to the point where it is almost a dead heat. For the first time in a long time it looks like Dave has a realistic shot to win this thing.
So vote. Vote with your remote. Vote for the side that creative, humanistic people side with. Vote for the side that celebrates the best humanity has to offer. Vote for intelligence.
Vote for Dave.
And then tell me how the election turns out.
If you need me Ill be watching the Daily Show.
Top 3 & 1/2 of the Week:
1.) The 90s
2.) Pavement - "Two States"
3.) Vitamin Water
3 & 1/2.) MLB Playoff anticipation
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you’ve been contemplating suicide, you should really put it off until at least 2009.
Because in 2009 not only will Barrack Obama will be sworn in as president, but, as was announced last week, Conan O’Brien will be sworn in as the new host of The Tonight Show. This will undo one of the most egregious sins in television history, the giving of The Tonight Show hosting job to a man the majority of the people didn’t want - Jay Leno. How and why this came about is detailed in one of the best books I’ve ever read, “The Late Shift” by Bill Carter, and it’s an amazingly engrossing page-turner you should pick up if you ever get a chance. But that’s neither here nor there. We can’t dwell on what could have or should have been. We have to deal with the here and now. And so until Conan assumes his rightful place in just over four years, we have to look at what we are stuck with. Examine the current administration if you will. And if you’ll examine it with me, you’ll realize that we can’t wait over four more years. We need change now.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Dave or Jay”?
It’s one of those questions that can tell you a lot about someone.
Like:
“Paul or John?”
“Lindsey Lohan or Hilary Duff?”
“Paper or plastic?”
“Analyze This or Analyze That?”
“Bush or Kerry”
But really, what DOES it tell you?
Well let’s look at the two shows. They each have reoccurring comedy bits they do. One of the most popular on Dave’s show is “Will It Float?” In the “bit”, a screen is raised to reveal a tank of water and an object that will be dropped into that night. Dave and Paul discuss at length whether they think the item will float or sink. All the while, for no reason at all, a girl stands to one side of the tank twirling hula hoops and another girl wears what looks like an outfitter a stripper would wear in outer space and runs a grinder along a plate on her stomach while sparks fly everywhere. The presence of the two girls is never acknowledged or commented on in any way. The item is then dropped into the pool and either sinks or floats. Then the curtain lowers. And that’s it. That’s the comedy. There are many variations on this bit including “Hairpiece, Not a Hairpiece” “Millionaire, or A Guy Named Kenny” and, in the high point of the entire history of random comedy, “Potatoes, or Gavin McCloud”. One of the most popular of Jay’s “bits” is “Iron Jay” in which Jay makes jokes about current events while his face is reflected in a mirror that stretches out his features.
So to recap: comic brilliance vs. guy making funny faces in a mirror.
There are many more differences between the two shows too. One seems to love to have appearances by pro wrestlers, athletes and the hottest celebrities of the moment. The other prefers Regis Philbin, news anchors and Amy Sedaris. One show has a host who tries to be the focus of each interview by telling jokes at his guest’s expense. The other show has a host who tries to deflect so much attention from himself that he has done exactly one interview in the past eight years and talks about his life so little on air that even die hard fans don’t know that name of the mother of his newborn child. One show is openly despised by critics and anyone who cares passionately about quality entertainment and/or comedy. The other has won the Emmy in its category five of the past six years. I could go on for days but I think the point I’m trying to make can be crystallized with one simple comparison: the way in which “common people” are used on the shows.
On The Tonight Show, Jay’s most popular usage of regular non-celebrity folks is in a segment called “Jaywalking”. He goes out on the street and asks people seemingly simple questions and then waits while they either don’t know the answer or answer incorrectly. Then we all get to laugh at them. Because they are stupid. The most popular way Dave uses real people is in a segment called “Stupid Human Tricks” which, despite the name, feature people who carry on intelligent conversations with Dave before showing off random talents they have.
So to recap: One segment features the phrase “stupid human” in its title; the other features actual stupid humans. One show celebrates people’s dumbness; the other celebrates people’s talents. One show features comedy that panders to the lower common denominator. The other show does cutting edge comedy and trusts that its audience will be smart enough to appreciate it. One show aims for the heights of human creativity; the other peddles formulaic schlock.
And one show, Jay’s show, since 1996, the year of the Republican take over of Congress, has trounced the other in the ratings.
That means that the majority of American prefer Jay’s show to Dave’s show. Prefer an everyman simpleton host to a host who seems reserved and distant. Prefer well-worn old-fashioned comedy to progressive, hip humor. Prefer stupidity to intelligence.
And that is why the fact that The Tonight Show beats The Late Show in the ratings, for me, best encapsulates all that is wrong with America.
But we can make a difference. Each and every one of us. We have a choice. And now is the time to make that choice heard. What once seemed like an insurmountable lead in the ratings has dwindled by the day. Each day when new numbers come out they show the gap is closing to the point where it is almost a dead heat. For the first time in a long time it looks like Dave has a realistic shot to win this thing.
So vote. Vote with your remote. Vote for the side that creative, humanistic people side with. Vote for the side that celebrates the best humanity has to offer. Vote for intelligence.
Vote for Dave.
And then tell me how the election turns out.
If you need me Ill be watching the Daily Show.
Top 3 & 1/2 of the Week:
1.) The 90s
2.) Pavement - "Two States"
3.) Vitamin Water
3 & 1/2.) MLB Playoff anticipation
Sunday, September 26, 2004
I Believe in Beatles
It has recently come to my attention that there is a major problem facing our world and our future and I cannot allow it continue without addressing it. (Uh-oh, he’s about to get preachy, run for cover…)
About a year ago Entertainment Weekly ran an article entitled “Do The Beatles Still Matter?” As soon as I saw the article I became furious. The Bible was printing sacrilege. Any magazine that would even bother to print such a stupid, inane, completely and absolutely ridiculous article wasn’t worth the paper it was printed on. I stopped just short of canceling my subscription then and there, but I still have yet to fully forgive them for even ASKING such a question (even though the article did ultimately come to the only conclusion one could possibly come to on the matter). When I was finally able to bring myself to read such garbage, I found that it focused on the fact that a lot of young people today don’t listen to The Beatles, aren’t familiar with them, or even worse, weren’t fans. Now many of the people interviewed or quoted said they liked Good Charlotte or Avril Lavigne or some such music, so while still very troubling, I was able to deal with it by writing it off as just another example of the dumbing down of youth culture and MTV related ignorance. That got me started on my “the country is going down the shitter, people are idiots, our educational system is a complete failure” internal tirade, but it was okay, because “surely they will learn when they grow up” I thought. I didn’t know the Beatles when I was 14 either. “Give them a few years.” I mean all the people I know now love The Beatles. I mean, they have good taste in music so surely they must…
(Blood pressure slowly beginning to rise)
I first started noticing suspicious things last semester. As I was moving from my “big fan” phase to “obsessive to a potentially unhealthy degree” phase, my sensitivity to all things Beatles became heightened. And therefore little things that might previously have gone unnoticed struck me as odd. Like when I mentioned "Doctor Robert" in an RA staff meeting and no one had any idea what I was talking about. Or when jokes about being the walrus or doing it in the road were met with puzzled expressions. I become somewhat concerned, so I stared flat out asking people “are you a Beatles fan?” And the responses I got were worse than I could have possibly imagined. (Brace yourself…) By and large PEOPLE DIDN’T REALLY KNOW THE BEATLES.
(Blood pressure reaching dangerous levels)
I honestly cannot conceive of how this is possible. People I know and care about, most of my friends, people whose opinions on matters of taste I had even trusted, people I had (God forbid) even listened to music recommendations from DIDN’T KNOW THE BEATLES! Or if they did know them they “weren’t huge fans”!! I felt beyond betrayed. I mean I had taken music opinions from these people! It was like knowing someone for years and then one day finding out they are actually only a very life-like cyborg. I mean if you don’t like The Beatles I fail to see how you are technically “alive” per say. So I must do my part to remedy this situation now.
Not to be preachy (far too late for that) but if you don’t like The Beatles then all of your opinions on music and, well, any art at all, are completely invalid. I cannot stress this strongly enough. It is very simple: If you don’t like The Beatles then you don’t like music. Bottom line. This is so incredibly not debatable that Lincoln and/or Douglas couldn’t even make an argument on its behalf. To say you like music and are not a huge Beatles fan is like saying you like reading but don’t really care for sentences. The Beatles are what music is built on. They ARE music. (Well duh, but you get my deeper point…). It goes even deeper than that though. There are a few things that exist in the world that are so great, examples of such great genius that it seems almost inconceivable that they could have been created by the human mind. I think I could put the short list at the works of Shakespeare, Beethoven, the threesome scene in Wild Things, and The Beatles. I mean listen to "Day in the Life" or "Dear Prudence" or The White Album or hell, almost anything they ever wrote, and there’s just no way to describe how incredible it is. It exemplifies the line in American Beauty “Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it.” Their music hits you in places you didn’t even know existed. The fact that IT exists gives you hope. The fact that four real people from a small town in England were able to create something like the music of the Beatles gives you hope in all of humanity. If human beings can create something that transcendent, that genius, that indescribable, then there’s nothing humanity can’t do. To not embrace The Beatles is to not embrace life. There are certainly statements that I feel must be true if you want to claim to lead a valid, fulfilling, and worthwhile existence: “I participate in the inhaling of oxygen and the exhaling of carbon dioxide” “I’m not a big fan of genocide” and “I like the Beatles”. If you cant truthfully say these statements then you should give you life to someone who could make better use of it.
So by now you either get the point or you are illiterate, in which case might I ask what you are doing here. And all if all this impassioned rhetoric does nothing else (well besides make me seem a little mentally unstable) I hope that it at least makes you consider giving the Beatles a deeper listen. Despite what P. Diddy would have you believe, this is an issue that is more important to your life, and our life as a society, than voting. Because no matter who is president or what happens in world affairs, we will all always have The Beatles. They are unversal and eternal they are our shared soundtrack. And so when I find myself in times of trouble, and have nothing to believe in anymore, I know that, unlike John, I believe in Beatles, and no matter what, just knowing that, I can always say: “it’s alright”.
Top 3 & 1/2 of the Week:
1.) Steve Martin
2.) Wilco - "Jesus, Etc."
3.) Jim White - "Static on the Radio"
3 & 1/2.) Your Mom
About a year ago Entertainment Weekly ran an article entitled “Do The Beatles Still Matter?” As soon as I saw the article I became furious. The Bible was printing sacrilege. Any magazine that would even bother to print such a stupid, inane, completely and absolutely ridiculous article wasn’t worth the paper it was printed on. I stopped just short of canceling my subscription then and there, but I still have yet to fully forgive them for even ASKING such a question (even though the article did ultimately come to the only conclusion one could possibly come to on the matter). When I was finally able to bring myself to read such garbage, I found that it focused on the fact that a lot of young people today don’t listen to The Beatles, aren’t familiar with them, or even worse, weren’t fans. Now many of the people interviewed or quoted said they liked Good Charlotte or Avril Lavigne or some such music, so while still very troubling, I was able to deal with it by writing it off as just another example of the dumbing down of youth culture and MTV related ignorance. That got me started on my “the country is going down the shitter, people are idiots, our educational system is a complete failure” internal tirade, but it was okay, because “surely they will learn when they grow up” I thought. I didn’t know the Beatles when I was 14 either. “Give them a few years.” I mean all the people I know now love The Beatles. I mean, they have good taste in music so surely they must…
(Blood pressure slowly beginning to rise)
I first started noticing suspicious things last semester. As I was moving from my “big fan” phase to “obsessive to a potentially unhealthy degree” phase, my sensitivity to all things Beatles became heightened. And therefore little things that might previously have gone unnoticed struck me as odd. Like when I mentioned "Doctor Robert" in an RA staff meeting and no one had any idea what I was talking about. Or when jokes about being the walrus or doing it in the road were met with puzzled expressions. I become somewhat concerned, so I stared flat out asking people “are you a Beatles fan?” And the responses I got were worse than I could have possibly imagined. (Brace yourself…) By and large PEOPLE DIDN’T REALLY KNOW THE BEATLES.
(Blood pressure reaching dangerous levels)
I honestly cannot conceive of how this is possible. People I know and care about, most of my friends, people whose opinions on matters of taste I had even trusted, people I had (God forbid) even listened to music recommendations from DIDN’T KNOW THE BEATLES! Or if they did know them they “weren’t huge fans”!! I felt beyond betrayed. I mean I had taken music opinions from these people! It was like knowing someone for years and then one day finding out they are actually only a very life-like cyborg. I mean if you don’t like The Beatles I fail to see how you are technically “alive” per say. So I must do my part to remedy this situation now.
Not to be preachy (far too late for that) but if you don’t like The Beatles then all of your opinions on music and, well, any art at all, are completely invalid. I cannot stress this strongly enough. It is very simple: If you don’t like The Beatles then you don’t like music. Bottom line. This is so incredibly not debatable that Lincoln and/or Douglas couldn’t even make an argument on its behalf. To say you like music and are not a huge Beatles fan is like saying you like reading but don’t really care for sentences. The Beatles are what music is built on. They ARE music. (Well duh, but you get my deeper point…). It goes even deeper than that though. There are a few things that exist in the world that are so great, examples of such great genius that it seems almost inconceivable that they could have been created by the human mind. I think I could put the short list at the works of Shakespeare, Beethoven, the threesome scene in Wild Things, and The Beatles. I mean listen to "Day in the Life" or "Dear Prudence" or The White Album or hell, almost anything they ever wrote, and there’s just no way to describe how incredible it is. It exemplifies the line in American Beauty “Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it.” Their music hits you in places you didn’t even know existed. The fact that IT exists gives you hope. The fact that four real people from a small town in England were able to create something like the music of the Beatles gives you hope in all of humanity. If human beings can create something that transcendent, that genius, that indescribable, then there’s nothing humanity can’t do. To not embrace The Beatles is to not embrace life. There are certainly statements that I feel must be true if you want to claim to lead a valid, fulfilling, and worthwhile existence: “I participate in the inhaling of oxygen and the exhaling of carbon dioxide” “I’m not a big fan of genocide” and “I like the Beatles”. If you cant truthfully say these statements then you should give you life to someone who could make better use of it.
So by now you either get the point or you are illiterate, in which case might I ask what you are doing here. And all if all this impassioned rhetoric does nothing else (well besides make me seem a little mentally unstable) I hope that it at least makes you consider giving the Beatles a deeper listen. Despite what P. Diddy would have you believe, this is an issue that is more important to your life, and our life as a society, than voting. Because no matter who is president or what happens in world affairs, we will all always have The Beatles. They are unversal and eternal they are our shared soundtrack. And so when I find myself in times of trouble, and have nothing to believe in anymore, I know that, unlike John, I believe in Beatles, and no matter what, just knowing that, I can always say: “it’s alright”.
Top 3 & 1/2 of the Week:
1.) Steve Martin
2.) Wilco - "Jesus, Etc."
3.) Jim White - "Static on the Radio"
3 & 1/2.) Your Mom
Marymount Musings
And now for something more light and frivolous like you’ve come to expect from yours truly…
(Warning: As if the title didn’t give it away, this entry is not intended for anyone who does not attend Marymount Manhattan College. So if your IQ is over 90 or you like hunting, fishing, or math you should find your reading material from other sources. Perhaps James Joyce.)
As a tour guide I consider myself an expert on all things Marymount, and also much cooler than you. So while we all have thoughts on the place we call school, mine are better than yours. Because I write mine down and post them on the internet…And at Marymount, doing that something like that is considered cool…
(I have come to the realization that I use ellipses far too often. If only there was something else I could use that would have the same effect…)
Most Common Phrases Overheard at Marymount:
1.) “Richard Niles”
2.) “I cant talk right now, I have coke up my nose”
3.) (Usually said by a girl to a straight male) “There are NO straight guys at this school! None. Anywhere. Not One. If only there was just one single straight guy at this whole godforsaken school I would be, like, so all over that. But there’s not. Life sucks. I’m going home to shoot myself now…”
3 & 1/2.) “Wow this Java City coffee is so good. And such friendly service too!”
Best Men’s Bathrooms:
1.) 3rd Floor Main - Convenient yet largely unknown so you always have it to yourself. Plus there’s a water fountain right outside. Plus it’s close to the cafeteria so it makes purging after lunch convenient.
2.) 2nd Floor of the Library - Way out of the way, but the all-stall set up is kinda cool as you can avoid those awkward “I’m standing next to my professor peeing I should say something to them but don’t know what to talk about plus I’m only gonna be here a few seconds” moments.
3.) 5th Floor Main – The large size and privacy of the rooms are nice but the line is always a mile long and the cleaning lady inevitably always has to start cleaning it the moment you start your business, whatever business that might be. Which then raises the question of, since it is cleaned like 20 times a day, how come there are never any paper towels in the dispensers?
3 & 1/2.) 4th floor Nugent- I swear I saw this bathroom in my high school
*So some people might have noticed in past years that we had a fallout shelter in the basement in past years. This summer it magically one day disappeared, or at least the sign did. So my question is, what genius decided that this finally was the appropriate time to get rid of the fallout shelter?
*So luckily Ill be long gone, but when Jason Koth leaves the Student Services Center, we’re all screwed aren’t we?
*I think I speak for everyone when I say, “that 8th floor sure is stylish”.
Top 3 & ½ Things You Can Do That Will Earn You a Nasty Look From Me:
1.) Talk on your cell phone in the library
2.) Use the elevator to travel less than 3 floors
3.) Be a freshman
3 & ½.) Commit genocide
Most Common Shows playing on the TV in the Nuge:
1.) Judge Joe Brown
2.) Judge Judy
3.) Judge Hatchett
3 & ½.) The Parkers
*One time this summer there was a sign up in the basement that said “Nugent this way” with an arrow pointing people the way to the Nugent building. Someone wrote “Ted” above the “Nugent” so the sign for a few days read “Ted Nugent this way”. It was funny. I laughed every time I saw it. I guess you had to be there…
*I like how we claim to be so diverse and yet has anyone seen the new color scheme of the 4th floor of the Nugent? On a related note: they really need to hand out sunglasses when the elevators doors open on that floor. Its just a little overwhelming is all.
(Warning: As if the title didn’t give it away, this entry is not intended for anyone who does not attend Marymount Manhattan College. So if your IQ is over 90 or you like hunting, fishing, or math you should find your reading material from other sources. Perhaps James Joyce.)
As a tour guide I consider myself an expert on all things Marymount, and also much cooler than you. So while we all have thoughts on the place we call school, mine are better than yours. Because I write mine down and post them on the internet…And at Marymount, doing that something like that is considered cool…
(I have come to the realization that I use ellipses far too often. If only there was something else I could use that would have the same effect…)
Most Common Phrases Overheard at Marymount:
1.) “Richard Niles”
2.) “I cant talk right now, I have coke up my nose”
3.) (Usually said by a girl to a straight male) “There are NO straight guys at this school! None. Anywhere. Not One. If only there was just one single straight guy at this whole godforsaken school I would be, like, so all over that. But there’s not. Life sucks. I’m going home to shoot myself now…”
3 & 1/2.) “Wow this Java City coffee is so good. And such friendly service too!”
Best Men’s Bathrooms:
1.) 3rd Floor Main - Convenient yet largely unknown so you always have it to yourself. Plus there’s a water fountain right outside. Plus it’s close to the cafeteria so it makes purging after lunch convenient.
2.) 2nd Floor of the Library - Way out of the way, but the all-stall set up is kinda cool as you can avoid those awkward “I’m standing next to my professor peeing I should say something to them but don’t know what to talk about plus I’m only gonna be here a few seconds” moments.
3.) 5th Floor Main – The large size and privacy of the rooms are nice but the line is always a mile long and the cleaning lady inevitably always has to start cleaning it the moment you start your business, whatever business that might be. Which then raises the question of, since it is cleaned like 20 times a day, how come there are never any paper towels in the dispensers?
3 & 1/2.) 4th floor Nugent- I swear I saw this bathroom in my high school
*So some people might have noticed in past years that we had a fallout shelter in the basement in past years. This summer it magically one day disappeared, or at least the sign did. So my question is, what genius decided that this finally was the appropriate time to get rid of the fallout shelter?
*So luckily Ill be long gone, but when Jason Koth leaves the Student Services Center, we’re all screwed aren’t we?
*I think I speak for everyone when I say, “that 8th floor sure is stylish”.
Top 3 & ½ Things You Can Do That Will Earn You a Nasty Look From Me:
1.) Talk on your cell phone in the library
2.) Use the elevator to travel less than 3 floors
3.) Be a freshman
3 & ½.) Commit genocide
Most Common Shows playing on the TV in the Nuge:
1.) Judge Joe Brown
2.) Judge Judy
3.) Judge Hatchett
3 & ½.) The Parkers
*One time this summer there was a sign up in the basement that said “Nugent this way” with an arrow pointing people the way to the Nugent building. Someone wrote “Ted” above the “Nugent” so the sign for a few days read “Ted Nugent this way”. It was funny. I laughed every time I saw it. I guess you had to be there…
*I like how we claim to be so diverse and yet has anyone seen the new color scheme of the 4th floor of the Nugent? On a related note: they really need to hand out sunglasses when the elevators doors open on that floor. Its just a little overwhelming is all.
Sunday, September 12, 2004
Lloyd Dobler is Dead (?)
On the frame around my computer monitor there is a picture of John Cusack as the greatest movie character of all time, Lloyd Dobler, with his arm around Diane Cort (played by Ione Skye, but you already knew that). They are in his car and he has his arm tentatively around the back of her neck. She has her head leaned back and is in mid laugh as he stares at her with a grin on his face and a bemused wondering glow in his eyes.
On the TV above my head, John Cusack is Rob Gordon in High Fidelity. He is shouting to his ex-girlfriend Catherine Zeta-Jones “Charlie you fucking bitch, lets work it out”.
I think the question needs to be asked: What happened to you John Cusack?
You could say it was the 90’s. You could say it was life and age and its attendant cynicism. You could say it was the fact that Charlie is no Diane Cort. You could say a lot of things, but in the end what you’re left with is the reality that symbolically, Lloyd Dobler has aged into Rob Gordon, a narcissistic, depressed, burnout record-store owner who hates his job, his life, and has a love life no one would envy. Age and time have taken their toll on him unkindly. Charming innocence begat hardened cynicism. His optimism and lack of fear have dissipated into a protective shell of self-absorption. He is angry, frustrated and insecure.
So I guess you could say ultimately, that seems about right.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I have for years wondered why I don’t like High Fidelity. Well “don’t like” isn’t really accurate. I do enjoy it, but not like I should. It should, on paper, be my favorite movie ever. It features guys who work in a record store and obsess over music and making lists. They are neurotic and consumed with pop culture. The movie features great writing based on great source material from Nick Hornby (who I love) and has tons of quotable lines. The art of making mix tapes is discussed at length. Jack Black features prominently in a breakout role that is my Blockbuster employee daydream fantasies come to life, in terms of customer relations (ie- he berates their bad taste, mocks them, and tells them to fuck off). It should be by all measures a Top 5 All Time Favorite Movie. But it’s not even close. I don’t know if it’s even Top 100.
Say Anything on the other hand, I should by all measures not be enthusiastic about. It has dated very badly. It’s cheesy, almost to a fault. It has an entirely unnecessary subplot about Diane’s Dad that receives way too much attention. It features unbelievable and unrealistic characters and some really not very good acting, to put it nicely. And the entire central conceit of the movie- that Diane Cort is some sort of unattainable goddess-like figure who lives in another world from Lloyd is completely unbelievable and ridiculous (partially the fault of the casting director, but whatever…). And yet. If Good Will Hunting had never been made, Say Anything could very well make a strong case as my favorite movie of all time.
So how and why is this?
On paper, it would seem the opposite would be true- the movie I find only passable I should love, and the movie I love I should laughably reject.
This of course says something about paper.
It also says something about the purpose of movies and why we watch them.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I don’t know about you, but I am surrounded by real life. It’s all I ever see. I’m surrounded by real life every day. Then I come home and I turn on my TV and there it is. I pop in my new Ashlee Simpson CD and I hear my life contained in her words (okay I lied about that last part). Point is, I’ve got enough life without having to pay to see it in a movie theater. In fact movies are usually the place I go when I want to escape life. That’s maybe the biggest function they serve.
Now I can hear your arguments already - he’s saying we should support mindless junk, realistic movies are bad, blah blah blah, but just stick with me here. Stop me if I start sounding like an “AFI 100 Years…100 whatever” special, but movies are there to let us escape for a few hours, to let us experience a little magic before ending and dumping us back into reality. If you don’t think this need for fantasy, this need for escapism, this need for release and for hope is one of our basic human needs, then tell that to your dreams.
The ones you have when you’re asleep, not the ones you wrote about in your college admissions essays.
Now this isn’t to say we should support mindless escapism, because for the most part mindless escapism is just that, mindless. And if your mind isn’t into it then it isn’t exactly escaping very far is it?
So then what about a movie like Lost in Translation? That is a realistic rumination on real life and not some escapist fantasy.
Au contraire, unless unbeknownst to me you are an aging movie star in a midlife crisis or a newlywed questioning your marriage while accompanying your husband on a photo shoot in Tokyo.
"But that movie seems so like my life, or at least like a life I can relate to", you say (or at least I did, and do). Well yes that’s the point now isn’t it. To create a world that seems so like life that it draws you in and allows you to (key word alert) escape into the reality of the situation; to present you with universal feelings and themes while making them seem so personal; these are the goals of movies, and really of all art. Its like how we all feel that we ARE Hamlet, or that that song was written about OUR lives.
The point is we don’t want to see REAL life in the movies; we want to see some version of life other than the real one. And THIS (getting us back on topic finally) is why Say Anything is a classic and High Fidelity leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
High Fidelity gives us an unlikable main character that displays some of the worst characteristics in all of us. His life seems far too familiar, his sad situations all too real, and he ends the movie not much better off than when he started. Where is the hope, the escape, the fantasy, and most importantly the heart in all of this?
(As aside note: isn’t High Fidelity really the movie Cameron Crowe should have made instead of Singles? I know the source novel hadn’t been written yet, but still, this is a movie that just cries out Cameron Crowe and deals with the same themes as Singles: disillusioned, narcissistic 20-somethings, music, and relationships in the 90’s. With the infusion of heart Cameron would have given it we might have really had something great. Plus then Singles would have never happened. Of course in my book that’s already the case…)
Say Anything on the other hand, gives us all of these missing things and then some. It’s the life we want and hope for and believe exists, unlike the life High Fidelity shows us, which is the life that DOES exist. Call it an example of the Dirty Dancing phenomenon, call it trite wish fulfillment, call it whatever you like, but the readers (and writers) of Entertainment Weekly call it the #1 modern romance movie and I just call it a damn good film.
You can also call it being lied to, or being given false hope, but I want my movies to lie to me; that’s what we pay them for.
In a world where “dare” is far preferable to “truth” we all want to be lied to.
We don’t want to see the guy that played Lloyd Dobler failing in relationships and burned out by life. We don’t want to see him buying things that are “sold or processed”. We don’t want to know that his spirit is dead in today’s world.
We want the lie.
We want hope.
We want “Say Anything…”
Top 3 & ½ of the Week:
1.) Shakespeare (the playwright)
2.) Rilo Kiley
3.) Frou Frou – “Let Go”
3 & ½.) Shakespeare (the bookstore)
On the TV above my head, John Cusack is Rob Gordon in High Fidelity. He is shouting to his ex-girlfriend Catherine Zeta-Jones “Charlie you fucking bitch, lets work it out”.
I think the question needs to be asked: What happened to you John Cusack?
You could say it was the 90’s. You could say it was life and age and its attendant cynicism. You could say it was the fact that Charlie is no Diane Cort. You could say a lot of things, but in the end what you’re left with is the reality that symbolically, Lloyd Dobler has aged into Rob Gordon, a narcissistic, depressed, burnout record-store owner who hates his job, his life, and has a love life no one would envy. Age and time have taken their toll on him unkindly. Charming innocence begat hardened cynicism. His optimism and lack of fear have dissipated into a protective shell of self-absorption. He is angry, frustrated and insecure.
So I guess you could say ultimately, that seems about right.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I have for years wondered why I don’t like High Fidelity. Well “don’t like” isn’t really accurate. I do enjoy it, but not like I should. It should, on paper, be my favorite movie ever. It features guys who work in a record store and obsess over music and making lists. They are neurotic and consumed with pop culture. The movie features great writing based on great source material from Nick Hornby (who I love) and has tons of quotable lines. The art of making mix tapes is discussed at length. Jack Black features prominently in a breakout role that is my Blockbuster employee daydream fantasies come to life, in terms of customer relations (ie- he berates their bad taste, mocks them, and tells them to fuck off). It should be by all measures a Top 5 All Time Favorite Movie. But it’s not even close. I don’t know if it’s even Top 100.
Say Anything on the other hand, I should by all measures not be enthusiastic about. It has dated very badly. It’s cheesy, almost to a fault. It has an entirely unnecessary subplot about Diane’s Dad that receives way too much attention. It features unbelievable and unrealistic characters and some really not very good acting, to put it nicely. And the entire central conceit of the movie- that Diane Cort is some sort of unattainable goddess-like figure who lives in another world from Lloyd is completely unbelievable and ridiculous (partially the fault of the casting director, but whatever…). And yet. If Good Will Hunting had never been made, Say Anything could very well make a strong case as my favorite movie of all time.
So how and why is this?
On paper, it would seem the opposite would be true- the movie I find only passable I should love, and the movie I love I should laughably reject.
This of course says something about paper.
It also says something about the purpose of movies and why we watch them.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I don’t know about you, but I am surrounded by real life. It’s all I ever see. I’m surrounded by real life every day. Then I come home and I turn on my TV and there it is. I pop in my new Ashlee Simpson CD and I hear my life contained in her words (okay I lied about that last part). Point is, I’ve got enough life without having to pay to see it in a movie theater. In fact movies are usually the place I go when I want to escape life. That’s maybe the biggest function they serve.
Now I can hear your arguments already - he’s saying we should support mindless junk, realistic movies are bad, blah blah blah, but just stick with me here. Stop me if I start sounding like an “AFI 100 Years…100 whatever” special, but movies are there to let us escape for a few hours, to let us experience a little magic before ending and dumping us back into reality. If you don’t think this need for fantasy, this need for escapism, this need for release and for hope is one of our basic human needs, then tell that to your dreams.
The ones you have when you’re asleep, not the ones you wrote about in your college admissions essays.
Now this isn’t to say we should support mindless escapism, because for the most part mindless escapism is just that, mindless. And if your mind isn’t into it then it isn’t exactly escaping very far is it?
So then what about a movie like Lost in Translation? That is a realistic rumination on real life and not some escapist fantasy.
Au contraire, unless unbeknownst to me you are an aging movie star in a midlife crisis or a newlywed questioning your marriage while accompanying your husband on a photo shoot in Tokyo.
"But that movie seems so like my life, or at least like a life I can relate to", you say (or at least I did, and do). Well yes that’s the point now isn’t it. To create a world that seems so like life that it draws you in and allows you to (key word alert) escape into the reality of the situation; to present you with universal feelings and themes while making them seem so personal; these are the goals of movies, and really of all art. Its like how we all feel that we ARE Hamlet, or that that song was written about OUR lives.
The point is we don’t want to see REAL life in the movies; we want to see some version of life other than the real one. And THIS (getting us back on topic finally) is why Say Anything is a classic and High Fidelity leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
High Fidelity gives us an unlikable main character that displays some of the worst characteristics in all of us. His life seems far too familiar, his sad situations all too real, and he ends the movie not much better off than when he started. Where is the hope, the escape, the fantasy, and most importantly the heart in all of this?
(As aside note: isn’t High Fidelity really the movie Cameron Crowe should have made instead of Singles? I know the source novel hadn’t been written yet, but still, this is a movie that just cries out Cameron Crowe and deals with the same themes as Singles: disillusioned, narcissistic 20-somethings, music, and relationships in the 90’s. With the infusion of heart Cameron would have given it we might have really had something great. Plus then Singles would have never happened. Of course in my book that’s already the case…)
Say Anything on the other hand, gives us all of these missing things and then some. It’s the life we want and hope for and believe exists, unlike the life High Fidelity shows us, which is the life that DOES exist. Call it an example of the Dirty Dancing phenomenon, call it trite wish fulfillment, call it whatever you like, but the readers (and writers) of Entertainment Weekly call it the #1 modern romance movie and I just call it a damn good film.
You can also call it being lied to, or being given false hope, but I want my movies to lie to me; that’s what we pay them for.
In a world where “dare” is far preferable to “truth” we all want to be lied to.
We don’t want to see the guy that played Lloyd Dobler failing in relationships and burned out by life. We don’t want to see him buying things that are “sold or processed”. We don’t want to know that his spirit is dead in today’s world.
We want the lie.
We want hope.
We want “Say Anything…”
Top 3 & ½ of the Week:
1.) Shakespeare (the playwright)
2.) Rilo Kiley
3.) Frou Frou – “Let Go”
3 & ½.) Shakespeare (the bookstore)
Tuesday, August 31, 2004
We're Not Gonna Take It!
Just like Jesus, The Terminator, and Kotter, I’m back. I had a few slight little diversions there for a week or so called “moving” and “no internet” and “death”. But hallelujah I’m back. I know you been anxiously awaiting my return, (liar) as you should have been because there is much to discuss.
For my readers around the nation who might not happen to be in New York City currently (translation: no one), let me tell you, it was crazy yesterday. People filled the streets with signs of protest and cries of outrage. Pain, anguish and indignation hung heavy in the air. Never before had an issue of national and international importance brought together the citizens of this city so passionately.
That’s right, The VMAs were moved to Miami.
It is an outrage I say. It our constitutional right as New Yorkers to be able to gaze upon celebrities as they and their possies arrive across from Radio City Music Hall (or Lincoln Center that one random year). We are better than everyone else and so we have earned this right. The right to see P. Diddy arrive in his pimped out ride with Ma$e and Bruce Willis whom he apparently is trying to promote as the new Ashton Kutcher, which is kind of ironic seeing as how he was really the FIRST Ashton Kutcher, or at least to Demi Moore he was. The right to see some guy named Omarion talk about going solo without answering the more pressing question of what exactly he is going solo FROM. The right to see John Norris morph into Kurt Loder before our very eyes. The right to see Sway shout incoherently and do whatever the hell it is Sway does. These are our rights as New Yorkers and these rights were taken away from us on Sunday. Our basic liberties were violated and our privileges stripped from us. So we New Yorkers took to the streets to let MTV know we would not stand for this another year. So hear me now, person-who-decides-where-the-VMAs-will-be-held-each-year, you and your administration must go, because you are bad for the people of this great land. And by great land I mean Manhattan. And select parts of Brooklyn.
Luckily though the show was televised and I could watch it in all its glorious splendor. And watch I did.
And splendor it did not.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I fully intended this week’s entry to be about the VMAs. It’s just the sort of event that’s ripe with type of material I want to write about. But a funny thing happened as I sat there watching, waiting for something to strike me as being good material to use. I realized I am now officially really old. Too old. Perhaps it was just the fact that this was the worst VMAs in history, but I mean when you have no host, no compelling performers, no controversial moments and a sound system apparently on loan from a community theater, what were they expecting? Perhaps the fact that they failed to nominate "Megalomaniac" in any of the top categories cast such a bad pall over the proceedings in my mind that I would not have been able to enjoy it even if they had shot Yoko Ono and then let Paul and Ringo piss on her corpse live on stage. Perhaps. But I’m starting to think maybe I’m just too old. Old to the point where I see through it all too much to even derive guilty enjoyment out of it.
Oh, I still have thoughts on the show, but MTV didn’t even provide enough compelling material to really inspire any feelings strong enough to be worth writing about. I could roll out the old “Musicless” Television bit here if that hadn’t been played out like 10 years ago. I could mention how its fitting that a show that peddles unintelligent, mindless schlock and that had to identify Clarence Thomas as “a Supreme Court justice” because it assumed its viewers wouldn’t know that without being told, would draw an audience that would boo John Kerry’s daughters. I could note how MTV’s ads get exceedingly more brilliant and cutting edge in direct proportion to how idiotic and processed the station’s content gets. I could talk about all of these things and more, but I just don’t feel like it. Maybe I’m old, but I just don’t have the desire to. Because I loved the show when it was processed, hyperactive, contrived, dumb, insulting, and manipulative. But now it’s just boring.
And that is the one thing I could never love.
For my readers around the nation who might not happen to be in New York City currently (translation: no one), let me tell you, it was crazy yesterday. People filled the streets with signs of protest and cries of outrage. Pain, anguish and indignation hung heavy in the air. Never before had an issue of national and international importance brought together the citizens of this city so passionately.
That’s right, The VMAs were moved to Miami.
It is an outrage I say. It our constitutional right as New Yorkers to be able to gaze upon celebrities as they and their possies arrive across from Radio City Music Hall (or Lincoln Center that one random year). We are better than everyone else and so we have earned this right. The right to see P. Diddy arrive in his pimped out ride with Ma$e and Bruce Willis whom he apparently is trying to promote as the new Ashton Kutcher, which is kind of ironic seeing as how he was really the FIRST Ashton Kutcher, or at least to Demi Moore he was. The right to see some guy named Omarion talk about going solo without answering the more pressing question of what exactly he is going solo FROM. The right to see John Norris morph into Kurt Loder before our very eyes. The right to see Sway shout incoherently and do whatever the hell it is Sway does. These are our rights as New Yorkers and these rights were taken away from us on Sunday. Our basic liberties were violated and our privileges stripped from us. So we New Yorkers took to the streets to let MTV know we would not stand for this another year. So hear me now, person-who-decides-where-the-VMAs-will-be-held-each-year, you and your administration must go, because you are bad for the people of this great land. And by great land I mean Manhattan. And select parts of Brooklyn.
Luckily though the show was televised and I could watch it in all its glorious splendor. And watch I did.
And splendor it did not.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I fully intended this week’s entry to be about the VMAs. It’s just the sort of event that’s ripe with type of material I want to write about. But a funny thing happened as I sat there watching, waiting for something to strike me as being good material to use. I realized I am now officially really old. Too old. Perhaps it was just the fact that this was the worst VMAs in history, but I mean when you have no host, no compelling performers, no controversial moments and a sound system apparently on loan from a community theater, what were they expecting? Perhaps the fact that they failed to nominate "Megalomaniac" in any of the top categories cast such a bad pall over the proceedings in my mind that I would not have been able to enjoy it even if they had shot Yoko Ono and then let Paul and Ringo piss on her corpse live on stage. Perhaps. But I’m starting to think maybe I’m just too old. Old to the point where I see through it all too much to even derive guilty enjoyment out of it.
Oh, I still have thoughts on the show, but MTV didn’t even provide enough compelling material to really inspire any feelings strong enough to be worth writing about. I could roll out the old “Musicless” Television bit here if that hadn’t been played out like 10 years ago. I could mention how its fitting that a show that peddles unintelligent, mindless schlock and that had to identify Clarence Thomas as “a Supreme Court justice” because it assumed its viewers wouldn’t know that without being told, would draw an audience that would boo John Kerry’s daughters. I could note how MTV’s ads get exceedingly more brilliant and cutting edge in direct proportion to how idiotic and processed the station’s content gets. I could talk about all of these things and more, but I just don’t feel like it. Maybe I’m old, but I just don’t have the desire to. Because I loved the show when it was processed, hyperactive, contrived, dumb, insulting, and manipulative. But now it’s just boring.
And that is the one thing I could never love.
Wednesday, August 18, 2004
Talkin Bout My Generation
One thing I’ve learned about marketing is that it’s never wrong. So when all the ads and posters for Garden State say that it is “the movie of our generation” and “The Graduate for the 2000’s” I have to believe that they are right. So with that in mind, I now realize that I need to maybe reassess what I thought I knew about “my generation”. I thought I had a pretty good handle on who “we” are, but after seeing the film I’m not so sure. Using only the movie, and specifically Zach Braff’s character as he is supposed to represent “us” (I think), as my reference material, here is what I have been able glean about “our generation”:
*We think Natalie Portman is hot.
Well, duh. My enjoyment of the movie was actually hampered by the fact that about halfway through, the thought occurred to me, “I wonder if Zach Braff created this movie as nothing more than elaborate excuse to make out with Natalie Portman”. As soon as that thought came into my head I just couldn’t shake it and the longer the movie went on the more and more I started to think that I might actually be right. If you think I’m crazy because of the fact that I was actually legitimately considering this, then consider the fact that as I was walking out of the theater I overheard two different guys engaged in two completely different conversations proposing the exact same theory. Also consider the fact that you are clearly not a straight male.
(On a related note, one of the previews was for Closer in which, if I saw it correctly, Natalie Portman plays a stripper. Yes that’s right, a stripper. I know the movie doesn’t come out until Friday December 3rd and all, but I think I can already pretty safely say- “Best. Movie. Ever.”)
*We are overly and unnecessarily medicated, unfeeling zombies.
Yes.
*We have to try really, really hard to be “different” and “eccentric”.
This was my main problem with the movie.
(And for those of you wondering, my overall review of the flick is that it was good but disappointing. Not disappointing on a Road to Perdition level but disappointing enough I don’t know if I would run out to see it again. But nevertheless you should go see it because it is still pretty good.)
All the "kookiness" and "eccentricity" seemed so forced and inorganic, like they sat around in a room and made of list of things that would make the movie seem “quirky” and then just inserted them into the film haphazardly. Sadly, this is pretty indicative of our generation. Think about the great lengths many of us go to seem “different” and “interesting”. It even seems like we have now come to embrace this great expenditure of effort as though it were true organic quirkiness. For proof of this look further then the outpouring of love for Napoleon Dynamite. (By the way, Napoleon Dynamite, Wes Anderson called and he wants his movie back…)
*We like the Shins.
Now this I was unaware of. And I’m none too happy to hear about it. I always used to hate those people who would be pretentious about their favorite bands and view anyone who hadn’t listened to them since their very first underground LP or whatever as not being true fans. My thinking use to be, "If you really like a group wouldn’t you want them to be universally loved and popular?" I mean I still hold out hope that Third Eye Blind will become huge again. But now older and wiser I hate to say it, but I understand. I’ve already come to grips with the fact that most people think Outkast just appeared out of nowhere sometime around “Ms. Jackson” (seriously people, "ATLiens" is by far the best thing they’ve ever done…), and I am able to restrain myself from saying “I listened to Maroon 5 two Decembers ago” by remembering that I always said that they would be huge radio stars if there was any justice in the world. But now I don’t know how I’m going to deal with THIS. I’ve always felt very possessive towards the Shins. They are “that band” for me. The band you don’t want anyone else to know about. Your little secret. "Oh, Inverted World" was the soundtrack of my freshman year, a time when I never once heard another living soul mention the name the Shins. So while it was cool beyond words to see Zach Braff riding down the street on the big screen to the sounds of “Caring is Creepy” it was also disconcerting. Because now the secret is out (as if it wasn’t already…). Now they are apparently the band of our generation.
*We like to reference. And pay homage to. And show you that we know about things. And generally be unoriginal.
Zach Braff plays a quiet, lost, short, dark haired, guy who has just returned home after being away for a while. He feels disconnected from the world around him. He is young and unexperienced. (his name is Andrew Largeman. Largeman, get it? What, Andrew Emotionallyunderdevelopedmanchild was taken?) Starting to sound familiar? Here need some help? Simon and Garfunkle underscore the key moment of the main character’s development. Get it now don’t you? Isn’t that clever. It’s like The Graduate only it’s a completely different movie and there’s no older lady. But still wasn’t that clever how they slyly evoke an older classic film with similar themes so that you the audience can sit there and think “hey I get the subtle homage to The Graduate they’ve got going here. Aren’t I smart and knowledgeable! I GET it!” Putting aside completely that The Graduate has maybe the best ending in the history of film and Gardens State’s ending, well, not to give it away, but, not so great, the two films are still worlds apart. But our generation likes to see things that we already know. Recycling is the new originality (See also: thrift stores, nostalgia, etc.). And while Garden State doesn’t pander and make us feel dumb, it tries to make us feel smart for no other reason then it wants us to feel smart, and isn’t that after all just pandering by a different name?
*Our parents are either dead, drug addicts, or played by hobbits.
This was news to me.
So there you have it: our generation as shown by Garden State. And Garden State’s portrayal is a completely accurate one. I know this because the marketing told me so. And I’m inclined to believe that the image they crafted for this film is a truthful one, and I will go with that inclination. Even though there is a small part of me that thinks image is nothing and I should just obey my thirst.
*We think Natalie Portman is hot.
Well, duh. My enjoyment of the movie was actually hampered by the fact that about halfway through, the thought occurred to me, “I wonder if Zach Braff created this movie as nothing more than elaborate excuse to make out with Natalie Portman”. As soon as that thought came into my head I just couldn’t shake it and the longer the movie went on the more and more I started to think that I might actually be right. If you think I’m crazy because of the fact that I was actually legitimately considering this, then consider the fact that as I was walking out of the theater I overheard two different guys engaged in two completely different conversations proposing the exact same theory. Also consider the fact that you are clearly not a straight male.
(On a related note, one of the previews was for Closer in which, if I saw it correctly, Natalie Portman plays a stripper. Yes that’s right, a stripper. I know the movie doesn’t come out until Friday December 3rd and all, but I think I can already pretty safely say- “Best. Movie. Ever.”)
*We are overly and unnecessarily medicated, unfeeling zombies.
Yes.
*We have to try really, really hard to be “different” and “eccentric”.
This was my main problem with the movie.
(And for those of you wondering, my overall review of the flick is that it was good but disappointing. Not disappointing on a Road to Perdition level but disappointing enough I don’t know if I would run out to see it again. But nevertheless you should go see it because it is still pretty good.)
All the "kookiness" and "eccentricity" seemed so forced and inorganic, like they sat around in a room and made of list of things that would make the movie seem “quirky” and then just inserted them into the film haphazardly. Sadly, this is pretty indicative of our generation. Think about the great lengths many of us go to seem “different” and “interesting”. It even seems like we have now come to embrace this great expenditure of effort as though it were true organic quirkiness. For proof of this look further then the outpouring of love for Napoleon Dynamite. (By the way, Napoleon Dynamite, Wes Anderson called and he wants his movie back…)
*We like the Shins.
Now this I was unaware of. And I’m none too happy to hear about it. I always used to hate those people who would be pretentious about their favorite bands and view anyone who hadn’t listened to them since their very first underground LP or whatever as not being true fans. My thinking use to be, "If you really like a group wouldn’t you want them to be universally loved and popular?" I mean I still hold out hope that Third Eye Blind will become huge again. But now older and wiser I hate to say it, but I understand. I’ve already come to grips with the fact that most people think Outkast just appeared out of nowhere sometime around “Ms. Jackson” (seriously people, "ATLiens" is by far the best thing they’ve ever done…), and I am able to restrain myself from saying “I listened to Maroon 5 two Decembers ago” by remembering that I always said that they would be huge radio stars if there was any justice in the world. But now I don’t know how I’m going to deal with THIS. I’ve always felt very possessive towards the Shins. They are “that band” for me. The band you don’t want anyone else to know about. Your little secret. "Oh, Inverted World" was the soundtrack of my freshman year, a time when I never once heard another living soul mention the name the Shins. So while it was cool beyond words to see Zach Braff riding down the street on the big screen to the sounds of “Caring is Creepy” it was also disconcerting. Because now the secret is out (as if it wasn’t already…). Now they are apparently the band of our generation.
*We like to reference. And pay homage to. And show you that we know about things. And generally be unoriginal.
Zach Braff plays a quiet, lost, short, dark haired, guy who has just returned home after being away for a while. He feels disconnected from the world around him. He is young and unexperienced. (his name is Andrew Largeman. Largeman, get it? What, Andrew Emotionallyunderdevelopedmanchild was taken?) Starting to sound familiar? Here need some help? Simon and Garfunkle underscore the key moment of the main character’s development. Get it now don’t you? Isn’t that clever. It’s like The Graduate only it’s a completely different movie and there’s no older lady. But still wasn’t that clever how they slyly evoke an older classic film with similar themes so that you the audience can sit there and think “hey I get the subtle homage to The Graduate they’ve got going here. Aren’t I smart and knowledgeable! I GET it!” Putting aside completely that The Graduate has maybe the best ending in the history of film and Gardens State’s ending, well, not to give it away, but, not so great, the two films are still worlds apart. But our generation likes to see things that we already know. Recycling is the new originality (See also: thrift stores, nostalgia, etc.). And while Garden State doesn’t pander and make us feel dumb, it tries to make us feel smart for no other reason then it wants us to feel smart, and isn’t that after all just pandering by a different name?
*Our parents are either dead, drug addicts, or played by hobbits.
This was news to me.
So there you have it: our generation as shown by Garden State. And Garden State’s portrayal is a completely accurate one. I know this because the marketing told me so. And I’m inclined to believe that the image they crafted for this film is a truthful one, and I will go with that inclination. Even though there is a small part of me that thinks image is nothing and I should just obey my thirst.
Saturday, August 14, 2004
Thoughts Had While Listening To The Radio II
*With each passing day it really becomes clearer doesn’t it? Biggie was much better than Tupac.
*People always ridicule pop singers for being artificial, processed, untalented, unauthentic, media creations. These same people probably also like hip-hop. I have yet to ever really hear the irony of this commented on, because although hip-hop is all about “keeping it real” isn’t it really pretty much as processed and artificial as pop these days, only instead of featuring attractive white teenagers singing about love it features African American (black) people rapping about murder, sex, and “bling-bling” (a great term if there ever was one…)? I mean just look at the idea of “bling-bling” for example. Most of the raps are always about what possessions someone has. Last time I checked being completely superficial and surface was why pop music is so “whack”, yet superficiality seems to be what hip-hop these days is all about. And last time I checked almost no rapper plays their own instruments, or plays any instruments period for that matter, nor do they produce their own beats. So if Britney Spears is criticized for not making her own songs or playing her own instruments then why is Ludacris artistically praised when all he does for his songs is make up three verses of rhyming words (not very well might I add)? And you’re telling me rappers these days don’t have images and personas that are as artificial and manufactured as pop stars? When you get down to it the only difference between Ashlee Simpson and 50 Cent, is that he’s been shot nine times and she should be. Sure Jay-Z is actually from “the streets” and Avril Lavigne isn’t from, well, wherever punks are from, but isn’t it all marketing anyway? This of course isn’t to say there’s not some truly great hip-hop because of course there is, but its all just something to think about I guess.
*If radio stations just played commercials for as many minutes as they spent telling us about how they are “commercial free” I think we’d all be better off.
*So apparently the new thing for “alternative rock” bands to do is record cheesy ballads that decidedly do not rock. I’m guessing these bands saw the success of “The Reason” by Hoobastank and thought, “hey we can do that”. While they were indeed correct, because of course who wouldn’t be able to write a song as “good” as "The Reason", the thought they should have really had was “do we want to do that?”. I think, as a general rule in life, anything inspired by a band named Hoobastank is a bad idea. I mean Hoobastank? Really? Lets look at that name for a second fellas. We’ve got “Hooba” as in, well, nothing, and “stank” as in, a really stupid word. So there you have it folks. “Nothingareallystupidword”: the face of faceless rock in the year 2004.
*As “Lil’ Flip” approaches middle age will he become just plain “Flip”?
*Is there anything more fun in the world then providing running commentary to go along with the song “Leave (Get Out)” by JoJo? (Well besides listening to that voice that shouts out random words in the background that is). Of course the key to this game is to remember that JoJo is 13. Yes, 13. Knowing this information provides one with a wealth of material to use in this activity. For example: If she is telling him to “get out” does that mean they were alone at her house together without adult supervision? And how is he going to “leave” exactly? Ride his bike? Call his mom to come pick him up? When she says “you promised me forever” was that maybe in retrospect a bit shortsighted on his part? And when she says “boy, I gave up everything I had” what exactly does this entail? 12 dollars, some shoes, and several outfits from Express? The possibilities for commentary are truly endless. Gather your friends around and play along. I’m telling you, you can’t beat it for sheer entertainment value.
*Speaking of asking questions, is there a better five seconds or so on the radio right now than when Jadakiss asks “why did Bush knock down the towers” and “why (Kobe) kiss that whore”? Every time I hear it I always think, “oh no he just didn’t”. But then I realize that “oh yes he just did”. And that I’m white.
*Finally, just in case you missed the memo, because I know I did, Brandy is now “cool” and “urban” and “possessing a personality”. So I guess that finally settles once and for all the great debate of the late 90’s. The boy was hers.
*People always ridicule pop singers for being artificial, processed, untalented, unauthentic, media creations. These same people probably also like hip-hop. I have yet to ever really hear the irony of this commented on, because although hip-hop is all about “keeping it real” isn’t it really pretty much as processed and artificial as pop these days, only instead of featuring attractive white teenagers singing about love it features African American (black) people rapping about murder, sex, and “bling-bling” (a great term if there ever was one…)? I mean just look at the idea of “bling-bling” for example. Most of the raps are always about what possessions someone has. Last time I checked being completely superficial and surface was why pop music is so “whack”, yet superficiality seems to be what hip-hop these days is all about. And last time I checked almost no rapper plays their own instruments, or plays any instruments period for that matter, nor do they produce their own beats. So if Britney Spears is criticized for not making her own songs or playing her own instruments then why is Ludacris artistically praised when all he does for his songs is make up three verses of rhyming words (not very well might I add)? And you’re telling me rappers these days don’t have images and personas that are as artificial and manufactured as pop stars? When you get down to it the only difference between Ashlee Simpson and 50 Cent, is that he’s been shot nine times and she should be. Sure Jay-Z is actually from “the streets” and Avril Lavigne isn’t from, well, wherever punks are from, but isn’t it all marketing anyway? This of course isn’t to say there’s not some truly great hip-hop because of course there is, but its all just something to think about I guess.
*If radio stations just played commercials for as many minutes as they spent telling us about how they are “commercial free” I think we’d all be better off.
*So apparently the new thing for “alternative rock” bands to do is record cheesy ballads that decidedly do not rock. I’m guessing these bands saw the success of “The Reason” by Hoobastank and thought, “hey we can do that”. While they were indeed correct, because of course who wouldn’t be able to write a song as “good” as "The Reason", the thought they should have really had was “do we want to do that?”. I think, as a general rule in life, anything inspired by a band named Hoobastank is a bad idea. I mean Hoobastank? Really? Lets look at that name for a second fellas. We’ve got “Hooba” as in, well, nothing, and “stank” as in, a really stupid word. So there you have it folks. “Nothingareallystupidword”: the face of faceless rock in the year 2004.
*As “Lil’ Flip” approaches middle age will he become just plain “Flip”?
*Is there anything more fun in the world then providing running commentary to go along with the song “Leave (Get Out)” by JoJo? (Well besides listening to that voice that shouts out random words in the background that is). Of course the key to this game is to remember that JoJo is 13. Yes, 13. Knowing this information provides one with a wealth of material to use in this activity. For example: If she is telling him to “get out” does that mean they were alone at her house together without adult supervision? And how is he going to “leave” exactly? Ride his bike? Call his mom to come pick him up? When she says “you promised me forever” was that maybe in retrospect a bit shortsighted on his part? And when she says “boy, I gave up everything I had” what exactly does this entail? 12 dollars, some shoes, and several outfits from Express? The possibilities for commentary are truly endless. Gather your friends around and play along. I’m telling you, you can’t beat it for sheer entertainment value.
*Speaking of asking questions, is there a better five seconds or so on the radio right now than when Jadakiss asks “why did Bush knock down the towers” and “why (Kobe) kiss that whore”? Every time I hear it I always think, “oh no he just didn’t”. But then I realize that “oh yes he just did”. And that I’m white.
*Finally, just in case you missed the memo, because I know I did, Brandy is now “cool” and “urban” and “possessing a personality”. So I guess that finally settles once and for all the great debate of the late 90’s. The boy was hers.
Wednesday, August 11, 2004
In your face JC Watts
Be honest. You’re not that excited about John Kerry. I mean you’re excited beyond belief about someone other than Bush being president, but Kerry? Is he really that exciting? That inspirational? That dynamic? I mean, all that really matters is that he is the guy running against Bush. In my entire brief life I’ve never wanted anyone to get elected more than I want Kerry to be elected, nothing that I have had the power to affect has ever seemed more vital to the course of human history, and yet, and I say this as someone planning on working for the Kerry campaign, for all it really matters it could be a well-trimmed shrubbery running against Bush and I would be about equally enthused. Which is to say that I would be very, very enthused about said shrubbery. But. Have you honestly met anyone who loves Kerry just because he’s Kerry? I mean granted he is just what we need at the moment- someone who is middle of the road and can appeal to the largest number of voters. It is now clear that Kerry was the right choice for the nomination- this election is too crucial to have it in the hands of someone like Howard Dean who, though the far more inspiring candidate, was almost passionate to a fault and would have had difficulty winning over the “undecideds”. For the next election though, when the fate of the world doesn’t hang in the balance, I’d like to find a candidate we can really feel passionate about because of his or her own personal merits and not simply because of who he’s running against. Someone who can inspire and has a strong vision. Someone who you hear speak and think, “he (or she) was born for this job and there’s no way anyone could be any better”. Someone who can define our generation and take our country to new heights. In short, this generation needs its Kennedy.
Sure there have been some who have come close in the-post Kennedy years. Bill Clinton was an almost unparalleled politician. But. I can’t really get behind someone that slick, that transparent, that calculated. Leaving aside completely the fact that he is married (technically) to Hillary, which is like 20,000 strikes against him, can you name a single piece of legislation he got passed in eight years. What is his legacy exactly other than getting impeached? The missile strikes that he planned to coincide with the key moment in his impeachment proceedings were indefensible. Then there’s always the clip which defines Clinton for me of him walking out of a funereal laughing and smiling with one of his advisors, then he suddenly spots a TV camera and instantly any trace of a smile evaporates, he bites his bottom lip, looks downward, and tries his hardest to conjure up some tears. I’m sorry but I just can’t get behind someone as calculated and fake as that. Sure he was an outstanding politician but that’s just the problem, I don’t want someone who feels like a “politician”. Of course you could make a case for Ronald Reagan, but then there’s always the fact that, well, he was Ronald Reagan. But don’t despair friends, we will have the next Kennedy soon enough. Someone our entire generation can rally around. I have seen the future (and you have too if you’ve been paying attention even the slightest bit to the news). And its name is Barack Obama.
In case you haven’t been paying attention, Obama had his “coming out party” if you will, at the DNC a few weeks back with his speech that I’ve seen referred to as one of the best speeches of the past 25 years. For those of you who missed it here’s a link to the transcript of the speech:
http://www.cnn.com/2004/ALLPOLITICS/07/27/dems.obama.transcript/
Also, check out the accompanying video report by Wolf Blitzer. Its pretty good, as is Obama’s official website which I’m too lazy to provide the link to.
Anyway, just a few days prior to Obama’s speech I was wondering if our generation would have “our Kennedy”, our political icon. And like a prayer from heaven the same week I hear about Obama and his speech. Now of course the networks didn’t show it and I don’t sit around watching C-SPAN so I didn’t see the speech until after the fact (If you want to actually see video of it, I can’t remember what site I saw it on so just use Google you lazy ass.) but I had heard about the buzz that he created at the convention and especially after seeing the speech, it hit me. This is the guy. Maybe…
Now there have been plenty of flash in the pan candidates who have come from nowhere, taken the country by storm, and threatened to shake up the face of American politics only to flame out and crash before they even knew what hit them. They have come from all parties and walks of life: Ross Perot, John McCain, the aforementioned Howard Dean, etc. But I just have a feeling this guy is for real.
Of course getting elected to the Senate is probably his first priority, but judging from the trouble the Republicans are having even trying to find someone to run against him I think that’s in the bag. Of course I cant blame people for not wanting to run against him, what shot would they have? To have a better backstory and built in marketing angle than Obama you’d have to be, as Stephen Colbert said (in one of the best lines in Daily Show history) “the son of a turd miner, the grandson of a goat-ball licker”.
(Sorry I know that really has nothing to do with anything but I had to work that line in somehow because it’s so freaking hilarious).
The man couldn’t be any more a “man of the people” and the definition of “the American Dream” if the Democrats had made him up. And you know how “undecideds” like that sort of stuff (at least I assume they do). I mean who would be dumb enough to run against a clearly unbeatable force of nature? Who can they possibly find that stupid? Is there another Bush brother hidden somewhere? All I can say to the GOP is, good luck with that one. And after Barack had been unleashed on the Senate there will be no stopping him.
Of course I could always be wrong, but I just have a feeling about this one. The way you know about a good melon (3 bonus points if you get that reference).
So, you heard it here first: Barack Obama will be the first African American (black) president of the United States. With a little prayer and good fortune maybe even as early as ‘08. I mean who else would the Democrats consider running? Hillary? Hahahaha
Wait…what?
They would?
Really?…
Editors note: Andy has just shot himself in the face
Sure there have been some who have come close in the-post Kennedy years. Bill Clinton was an almost unparalleled politician. But. I can’t really get behind someone that slick, that transparent, that calculated. Leaving aside completely the fact that he is married (technically) to Hillary, which is like 20,000 strikes against him, can you name a single piece of legislation he got passed in eight years. What is his legacy exactly other than getting impeached? The missile strikes that he planned to coincide with the key moment in his impeachment proceedings were indefensible. Then there’s always the clip which defines Clinton for me of him walking out of a funereal laughing and smiling with one of his advisors, then he suddenly spots a TV camera and instantly any trace of a smile evaporates, he bites his bottom lip, looks downward, and tries his hardest to conjure up some tears. I’m sorry but I just can’t get behind someone as calculated and fake as that. Sure he was an outstanding politician but that’s just the problem, I don’t want someone who feels like a “politician”. Of course you could make a case for Ronald Reagan, but then there’s always the fact that, well, he was Ronald Reagan. But don’t despair friends, we will have the next Kennedy soon enough. Someone our entire generation can rally around. I have seen the future (and you have too if you’ve been paying attention even the slightest bit to the news). And its name is Barack Obama.
In case you haven’t been paying attention, Obama had his “coming out party” if you will, at the DNC a few weeks back with his speech that I’ve seen referred to as one of the best speeches of the past 25 years. For those of you who missed it here’s a link to the transcript of the speech:
http://www.cnn.com/2004/ALLPOLITICS/07/27/dems.obama.transcript/
Also, check out the accompanying video report by Wolf Blitzer. Its pretty good, as is Obama’s official website which I’m too lazy to provide the link to.
Anyway, just a few days prior to Obama’s speech I was wondering if our generation would have “our Kennedy”, our political icon. And like a prayer from heaven the same week I hear about Obama and his speech. Now of course the networks didn’t show it and I don’t sit around watching C-SPAN so I didn’t see the speech until after the fact (If you want to actually see video of it, I can’t remember what site I saw it on so just use Google you lazy ass.) but I had heard about the buzz that he created at the convention and especially after seeing the speech, it hit me. This is the guy. Maybe…
Now there have been plenty of flash in the pan candidates who have come from nowhere, taken the country by storm, and threatened to shake up the face of American politics only to flame out and crash before they even knew what hit them. They have come from all parties and walks of life: Ross Perot, John McCain, the aforementioned Howard Dean, etc. But I just have a feeling this guy is for real.
Of course getting elected to the Senate is probably his first priority, but judging from the trouble the Republicans are having even trying to find someone to run against him I think that’s in the bag. Of course I cant blame people for not wanting to run against him, what shot would they have? To have a better backstory and built in marketing angle than Obama you’d have to be, as Stephen Colbert said (in one of the best lines in Daily Show history) “the son of a turd miner, the grandson of a goat-ball licker”.
(Sorry I know that really has nothing to do with anything but I had to work that line in somehow because it’s so freaking hilarious).
The man couldn’t be any more a “man of the people” and the definition of “the American Dream” if the Democrats had made him up. And you know how “undecideds” like that sort of stuff (at least I assume they do). I mean who would be dumb enough to run against a clearly unbeatable force of nature? Who can they possibly find that stupid? Is there another Bush brother hidden somewhere? All I can say to the GOP is, good luck with that one. And after Barack had been unleashed on the Senate there will be no stopping him.
Of course I could always be wrong, but I just have a feeling about this one. The way you know about a good melon (3 bonus points if you get that reference).
So, you heard it here first: Barack Obama will be the first African American (black) president of the United States. With a little prayer and good fortune maybe even as early as ‘08. I mean who else would the Democrats consider running? Hillary? Hahahaha
Wait…what?
They would?
Really?…
Editors note: Andy has just shot himself in the face
Monday, August 09, 2004
If you build it, he will come
“The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers; it has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt, and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game, is a part of our past, Ray. It reminds us of all that once was good, and it could be again.”
–James Earl Jones in Field of Dreams
There are several unwritten rules that pertain to being a guy. Well, there’s about to be one less. Because its about to be written down.
Reasons for which it is acceptable for a guy to cry:
-Death/Funeral
-Loss of a major sporting event in which you are involved (This is not always true, it depends on the situation and the person, but for the most part is generally true)
-Any situation involving heartbreak/confession of infidelity/breakup with a girl (once again this depends on the situation and the person)
-The end of Field of Dreams
And that’s about it. Now of course not everyone agrees with these restrictions. I for one think guys should able to cry whenever they damn well feel like. Nevertheless though, what is listed above is kind of the standard universal law of “guydom”. Why I bring it up though is because of the 4th thing listed. The top 3 make sense (well if you’re not a guy then the sports thing probably seems silly, but if you’re not a guy then you cry like daily anyway so get over it.). But Field of Dreams? I mean it’s just a movie. A guy would never call a guy out for crying at the end of a sappy and manipulative scene about a guy playing catch with his dad? He wouldn’t call him a “sissy” or a “pansy” or worse still, a “girl”? No. Because he’d be too busy crying himself.
This crying-at-the-end-of-Field of Dreams phenomenon was really driven home recently when I watched the extras on the brand new Special Edition Field of Dreams DVD. Grown men of all kinds tear up, one after another, just talking about the movie. We’re talking about like, baseball players- young and old- men whose entire jobs revolve around hitting objects and acting manly who are tearing up just talking about a movie. Coaches, actors, even a cameraman who worked on the film all become visibly emotional just even thinking about the movie. There are stories told on the disc by the producers about how they would go around to theaters when the movie first came out and movie would end and guys not be able to leave their seats because they didn’t want anyone to see that they had tears in their eyes, and also about how guys would tell each other to make sure to not go with a date because you didn’t want to be caught dead crying in front of some girl you were interested in. Growing up I had never really thought that there was anything weird about this whole crying phenomenon because it made perfect sense to me. I mean its freaking Field of Dreams, what other reaction could you have? But after talking to people over the years about the movie, specifically girls, I started to realize that a lot of people just didn’t get it. Then while watching all the reactions of all these guys to the movie after having being away from the movie myself for a few years, I finally realized that the whole phenomenon was kind of strange, unique, and more than a little interesting to consider. It is now definitely on another list
Things that if you don’t innately understand or grasp the greatness of, you never will no matter how much someone tries to make you understand
OR
Things whose greatness can’t be explained, it just IS (a very partial list):
-Ben Folds
-Why pirates are cool
-Steely Dan
-The movies of Christopher Guest and Co.
-Field of Dreams
I mean, Field of Dreams should be all counts be a mediocre to bad movie. The acting ranges from decent to horrible (Amy Madigan is definitely in the running for worst performance by a lead actress in a great movie along with Renee Zellweger in Jerry Maguire and Andie McDowell in every movie she’s ever appeared in.) The movie features Kevin Costner. The direction is pretty pedestrian. The movie now looks very badly dated. The script and plot are incredibly cheesy and should seem completely ridiculous. But that’s the thing. They don’t. It all works and its mostly because of the last scene.
For those of you who haven’t seen the movie and don’t mind having the ending spoiled for you, it ends with a scene of Kevin Costner’s character playing catch with his dad who has returned from the grave, while the camera pans out to reveal a line of cars stretched for miles full of people coming to visit Kevin’s baseball field that he gave up everything he owned to build. (wow that sounds even cheesier written out…) But this works and the movie stands to this day as the only real “male-weepy” or “guy flick” (as it has been referred to) because it taps into something very deep within any guy who has:
A. had a Dad with whom they had a relationship of any degree of closeness
B. played baseball as a child
Because you see, if you played sports at all, then baseball was the first sport you played. You started Tee-Ball around the same time you started school. It was the first thing you and your dad really did together independent of the rest of the family- your first bonding experience. It’s also the only sport you learned primarily from your dad. You learned basketball from your friends and football from your coaches, but it was your dad who taught you how to play catch and how to hit off a tee. These fact are all pretty universal. So to recap: baseball is the sport most closely tied to your childhood and to your dad.
As you’ve grown up you’ve lost touch with both of those very essential things. And this will only continue to a worse degree until inevitably you can barely remember your childhood and your Dad will be dead. You know this, and yet due to the fact that your Dad is your Dad, and therefore a guy, you can’t ever actually sit down and tell him that you think he’s swell. And so it always goes unsaid. But then you see Field of Dreams and it is like the ultimate wish fulfillment. To have your dad come back from the grave but as a younger version of himself, the version you never got to know, and to play catch with him which is symbolically communication on its most basic level- I give, you receive, you give back, I receive, repeat endlessly- well, its about the most powerful image and idea imaginable, and one that brings even the most hardened guy to tears every time.
As Louis Armstrong once said, “There's some folks, that, if they don't know, you can't tell 'em”. Well, if you don’t get why Field of Dreams is one of the most powerful movies ever made then I guess I just can’t tell you. But that’s a damn shame because you have no idea what you’re missing.
–James Earl Jones in Field of Dreams
There are several unwritten rules that pertain to being a guy. Well, there’s about to be one less. Because its about to be written down.
Reasons for which it is acceptable for a guy to cry:
-Death/Funeral
-Loss of a major sporting event in which you are involved (This is not always true, it depends on the situation and the person, but for the most part is generally true)
-Any situation involving heartbreak/confession of infidelity/breakup with a girl (once again this depends on the situation and the person)
-The end of Field of Dreams
And that’s about it. Now of course not everyone agrees with these restrictions. I for one think guys should able to cry whenever they damn well feel like. Nevertheless though, what is listed above is kind of the standard universal law of “guydom”. Why I bring it up though is because of the 4th thing listed. The top 3 make sense (well if you’re not a guy then the sports thing probably seems silly, but if you’re not a guy then you cry like daily anyway so get over it.). But Field of Dreams? I mean it’s just a movie. A guy would never call a guy out for crying at the end of a sappy and manipulative scene about a guy playing catch with his dad? He wouldn’t call him a “sissy” or a “pansy” or worse still, a “girl”? No. Because he’d be too busy crying himself.
This crying-at-the-end-of-Field of Dreams phenomenon was really driven home recently when I watched the extras on the brand new Special Edition Field of Dreams DVD. Grown men of all kinds tear up, one after another, just talking about the movie. We’re talking about like, baseball players- young and old- men whose entire jobs revolve around hitting objects and acting manly who are tearing up just talking about a movie. Coaches, actors, even a cameraman who worked on the film all become visibly emotional just even thinking about the movie. There are stories told on the disc by the producers about how they would go around to theaters when the movie first came out and movie would end and guys not be able to leave their seats because they didn’t want anyone to see that they had tears in their eyes, and also about how guys would tell each other to make sure to not go with a date because you didn’t want to be caught dead crying in front of some girl you were interested in. Growing up I had never really thought that there was anything weird about this whole crying phenomenon because it made perfect sense to me. I mean its freaking Field of Dreams, what other reaction could you have? But after talking to people over the years about the movie, specifically girls, I started to realize that a lot of people just didn’t get it. Then while watching all the reactions of all these guys to the movie after having being away from the movie myself for a few years, I finally realized that the whole phenomenon was kind of strange, unique, and more than a little interesting to consider. It is now definitely on another list
Things that if you don’t innately understand or grasp the greatness of, you never will no matter how much someone tries to make you understand
OR
Things whose greatness can’t be explained, it just IS (a very partial list):
-Ben Folds
-Why pirates are cool
-Steely Dan
-The movies of Christopher Guest and Co.
-Field of Dreams
I mean, Field of Dreams should be all counts be a mediocre to bad movie. The acting ranges from decent to horrible (Amy Madigan is definitely in the running for worst performance by a lead actress in a great movie along with Renee Zellweger in Jerry Maguire and Andie McDowell in every movie she’s ever appeared in.) The movie features Kevin Costner. The direction is pretty pedestrian. The movie now looks very badly dated. The script and plot are incredibly cheesy and should seem completely ridiculous. But that’s the thing. They don’t. It all works and its mostly because of the last scene.
For those of you who haven’t seen the movie and don’t mind having the ending spoiled for you, it ends with a scene of Kevin Costner’s character playing catch with his dad who has returned from the grave, while the camera pans out to reveal a line of cars stretched for miles full of people coming to visit Kevin’s baseball field that he gave up everything he owned to build. (wow that sounds even cheesier written out…) But this works and the movie stands to this day as the only real “male-weepy” or “guy flick” (as it has been referred to) because it taps into something very deep within any guy who has:
A. had a Dad with whom they had a relationship of any degree of closeness
B. played baseball as a child
Because you see, if you played sports at all, then baseball was the first sport you played. You started Tee-Ball around the same time you started school. It was the first thing you and your dad really did together independent of the rest of the family- your first bonding experience. It’s also the only sport you learned primarily from your dad. You learned basketball from your friends and football from your coaches, but it was your dad who taught you how to play catch and how to hit off a tee. These fact are all pretty universal. So to recap: baseball is the sport most closely tied to your childhood and to your dad.
As you’ve grown up you’ve lost touch with both of those very essential things. And this will only continue to a worse degree until inevitably you can barely remember your childhood and your Dad will be dead. You know this, and yet due to the fact that your Dad is your Dad, and therefore a guy, you can’t ever actually sit down and tell him that you think he’s swell. And so it always goes unsaid. But then you see Field of Dreams and it is like the ultimate wish fulfillment. To have your dad come back from the grave but as a younger version of himself, the version you never got to know, and to play catch with him which is symbolically communication on its most basic level- I give, you receive, you give back, I receive, repeat endlessly- well, its about the most powerful image and idea imaginable, and one that brings even the most hardened guy to tears every time.
As Louis Armstrong once said, “There's some folks, that, if they don't know, you can't tell 'em”. Well, if you don’t get why Field of Dreams is one of the most powerful movies ever made then I guess I just can’t tell you. But that’s a damn shame because you have no idea what you’re missing.
Thursday, August 05, 2004
Thoughts Had While Listening To The Radio
Working in the admissions office over the summer has taught me many things. For example: there are some jobs that human beings are paid for that could actually in fact be done just as well by trained chimps. Also, there is an entire alternate world out there that I used to live in but now am completely unaware of.
It is called the radio.
Remember the radio? Well, after being forced to listen to it at work every day this summer I hereby present the first in what’s sure to be a reoccurring series of entries entitled…well, see the subject heading above.
*Remember Ma$e (Mase)? Well, if your answer was “no” then you obviously are not a person who I want to know. Ma$e was such an integral figure in my youth and really, its kinda of hard to explain how that happened. Because as far as I could tell he had absolutely no rapping ability. I mean he even made Puffy sound competent. It was hard to really tell though because it was virtually impossible to understand him. Literally. Put a bunch of marbles in your mouth and try rapping and you would be replicating what Ma$e sounded like. Plus the few words that were intelligible usually made no sense. I’m still trying to figure out what “the goldie sound” is or was. Somehow though, he wound up on like every rap hit of the mid 90’s and everyone loved him for some unexplainable reason. Mostly, we were 13. Anyway, he retired several years back to join the ministry, because when you have a dollar sign in your name it seems only fitting you should join the church. But now he’s back and I’m not too happy about it. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad he’s back, but his return has ruined for all times one of the greatest ideas for a song ever and for that reason I am not-so-glad. In case you haven’t heard, his new single is called “Welcome Back” and samples the Welcome Back Kotter theme song. Let that thought sink in for a second. Hear that theme song in your head? An absolutely perfect tune to be sampled by a rap song right? A sample so perfect for a rap song by an artist who has been away for a long time that it's amazing it hasn’t been done before. I mean this is just a genius idea for a comeback song. Imagine if the Beastie Boys had used the idea for a first single from "To the 5 Boroughs". It would have been an all time great single. And that’s just the problem. It’s not. Only someone like Ma$e could take what should have been a no-doubt grand slam and turn it into a bloop single with the runner advancing to second on a throwing error. I mean it’s a decent song and I’m always glad when it comes on, but it’s nowhere near and all time great. And now that Ma$e has used the idea in a song that has achieved a good level of prominence it can’t really ever be used again. And that’s a loss for all of us. And by "all of us" I mean humanity. And yes I do take things a little too seriously…
*Speaking of listening to rap at age 13 is it weird to anyone else that there is now an entire generation of people who will forever associate gangster rap with their junior high years? And that that generation is us? I know I bring this up almost every four days, but I think its worth repeating because I just can’t get over it. I mean when our parents think of junior high they think of the early years of The Beatles, The Beach Boys and Herman’s Hermits. Or at least mine do. When I think of junior high I think of “Hit ‘em Up”, a song in which Tupac claims to have had sex with the wife of a man whom he believed had just ordered hit on his life and then threatens to, among other things, have his “.44 make sure all your kids don’t grow”. And yes I knew all the words. In fact the first song I recall knowing all the words to was “Hypnotize”, which includes the lyrics “Poppa freakin…leave that ass leakin”. I mean “Gangsta’s Paradise”, “Regulators”, and “Keep Their Heads Ringin” are the songs that transport us back to childhood. Am I right about this? I thought so. I’m sure I’m not the only one who finds this fact very…well, interesting, for lack of a better word. Even weirder to think about though, is the fact that 60 years from now there will be an entire generation of 80 year olds for whom not only will hard core gangster rap not seem unacceptable, but who will, in fact, have been raised on it. I mean “Gin and Juice” will one day be an “oldie”. And I’ll hear it at age 82 and think “I remember singing that in the hallways while heading to recess in 5th grade.” And then I’ll most likely shit my pants. Because I will have lost control of my bowels 7 months prior.
*So according to scientists’ best estimates the earth is 4.5 billion years old. That means as of the end of this season there will have been 4.5 billion summers in the history of the planet. And somehow 4,499,999,999 of these summers have managed to exist without the song “Heaven” by the Los Lonely Boys. I’m not exactly sure how this was possible. I mean that song is what summer was invented for. Hell, it’s what RADIO was invented for. And although I’m sure it would sound good coming through your speakers at any time of year, it and summer just seem to go together like Beyonce’s face and my fist. And now that they have found each other, neither will ever be the same.
*I’m not actually “from the streets” so I don’t know these things, but does Nelly have even an ounce street cred left? I mean no one actually still takes this guy seriously right? People in “the hood” talk about he’s about as “gangster” as Usher right? Please tell me I’m right about this. If you yourself are “from the streets” fill me in on this issue. I need to know these things…
*There should be a law against covering songs which are less than five years old. There should also be a law against Jessica Simpson. Either one of these laws would have prevented her cover of Robbie Williams’ “Angels” from ever happening. That girl has never met a note she couldn't turn into five separate notes with unintentionally hilarious results. Somewhere Mariah Carey is rolling over in her grave. Wait…what? You mean she’s not actually dead? Oh…
It is called the radio.
Remember the radio? Well, after being forced to listen to it at work every day this summer I hereby present the first in what’s sure to be a reoccurring series of entries entitled…well, see the subject heading above.
*Remember Ma$e (Mase)? Well, if your answer was “no” then you obviously are not a person who I want to know. Ma$e was such an integral figure in my youth and really, its kinda of hard to explain how that happened. Because as far as I could tell he had absolutely no rapping ability. I mean he even made Puffy sound competent. It was hard to really tell though because it was virtually impossible to understand him. Literally. Put a bunch of marbles in your mouth and try rapping and you would be replicating what Ma$e sounded like. Plus the few words that were intelligible usually made no sense. I’m still trying to figure out what “the goldie sound” is or was. Somehow though, he wound up on like every rap hit of the mid 90’s and everyone loved him for some unexplainable reason. Mostly, we were 13. Anyway, he retired several years back to join the ministry, because when you have a dollar sign in your name it seems only fitting you should join the church. But now he’s back and I’m not too happy about it. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad he’s back, but his return has ruined for all times one of the greatest ideas for a song ever and for that reason I am not-so-glad. In case you haven’t heard, his new single is called “Welcome Back” and samples the Welcome Back Kotter theme song. Let that thought sink in for a second. Hear that theme song in your head? An absolutely perfect tune to be sampled by a rap song right? A sample so perfect for a rap song by an artist who has been away for a long time that it's amazing it hasn’t been done before. I mean this is just a genius idea for a comeback song. Imagine if the Beastie Boys had used the idea for a first single from "To the 5 Boroughs". It would have been an all time great single. And that’s just the problem. It’s not. Only someone like Ma$e could take what should have been a no-doubt grand slam and turn it into a bloop single with the runner advancing to second on a throwing error. I mean it’s a decent song and I’m always glad when it comes on, but it’s nowhere near and all time great. And now that Ma$e has used the idea in a song that has achieved a good level of prominence it can’t really ever be used again. And that’s a loss for all of us. And by "all of us" I mean humanity. And yes I do take things a little too seriously…
*Speaking of listening to rap at age 13 is it weird to anyone else that there is now an entire generation of people who will forever associate gangster rap with their junior high years? And that that generation is us? I know I bring this up almost every four days, but I think its worth repeating because I just can’t get over it. I mean when our parents think of junior high they think of the early years of The Beatles, The Beach Boys and Herman’s Hermits. Or at least mine do. When I think of junior high I think of “Hit ‘em Up”, a song in which Tupac claims to have had sex with the wife of a man whom he believed had just ordered hit on his life and then threatens to, among other things, have his “.44 make sure all your kids don’t grow”. And yes I knew all the words. In fact the first song I recall knowing all the words to was “Hypnotize”, which includes the lyrics “Poppa freakin…leave that ass leakin”. I mean “Gangsta’s Paradise”, “Regulators”, and “Keep Their Heads Ringin” are the songs that transport us back to childhood. Am I right about this? I thought so. I’m sure I’m not the only one who finds this fact very…well, interesting, for lack of a better word. Even weirder to think about though, is the fact that 60 years from now there will be an entire generation of 80 year olds for whom not only will hard core gangster rap not seem unacceptable, but who will, in fact, have been raised on it. I mean “Gin and Juice” will one day be an “oldie”. And I’ll hear it at age 82 and think “I remember singing that in the hallways while heading to recess in 5th grade.” And then I’ll most likely shit my pants. Because I will have lost control of my bowels 7 months prior.
*So according to scientists’ best estimates the earth is 4.5 billion years old. That means as of the end of this season there will have been 4.5 billion summers in the history of the planet. And somehow 4,499,999,999 of these summers have managed to exist without the song “Heaven” by the Los Lonely Boys. I’m not exactly sure how this was possible. I mean that song is what summer was invented for. Hell, it’s what RADIO was invented for. And although I’m sure it would sound good coming through your speakers at any time of year, it and summer just seem to go together like Beyonce’s face and my fist. And now that they have found each other, neither will ever be the same.
*I’m not actually “from the streets” so I don’t know these things, but does Nelly have even an ounce street cred left? I mean no one actually still takes this guy seriously right? People in “the hood” talk about he’s about as “gangster” as Usher right? Please tell me I’m right about this. If you yourself are “from the streets” fill me in on this issue. I need to know these things…
*There should be a law against covering songs which are less than five years old. There should also be a law against Jessica Simpson. Either one of these laws would have prevented her cover of Robbie Williams’ “Angels” from ever happening. That girl has never met a note she couldn't turn into five separate notes with unintentionally hilarious results. Somewhere Mariah Carey is rolling over in her grave. Wait…what? You mean she’s not actually dead? Oh…
Sunday, August 01, 2004
Its a little chilly in hell...
Yes, it’s happened.
I swore the day this day would never come, and yet, come it has.
I'm one of "them".
I have an online journal.
But wait. Come back. Its not what it looks like. It’s not what you think it is. Oh, no. You wont find any tortured stories of lost love, personal soul searching or accounts of my trip to the grocery store here. No siree Bob. All you’ll find here is opinions. And ideas. And theories.
Wait, don't go. Its not going to be as self-indulgent as it sounds…
Well okay I lied about that but hey, it worked, you’re still reading aren’t you? I promise no more trickery like that though. Only honesty. Unless of course I don’t feel like it. But honesty is not really the point of this thing. This is just a forum for me to express my opinions on a variety of issues of varying degrees of unimportance. And there can be no lying when it comes to opinions, because there’s really only one opinion you can have on matters of pop cultural importance. Mine.
So never fear, you wont be getting any details of my personal life or deep insight into my inner being or whatever those new age people are referring to it as these days. No, no my friend (or random person with no life) none of that pish-posh will be found here. Hell has not completely frozen over. What you will find though, are my thoughts on things such as the state of hip-hop radio, why The Tonight Show symbolizes all that is wrong with America, the cultural significance of Mark David Chapman, and of course more “baseball as allegory for (fill in the blank)” bullshit than should legally be allowed to exist. (See told you I was lying about the self indulgent thing). I can already feel your excitement and anticipation. Please try to contain yourself.
Thank you.
Is there a reason why I have decided to embark on this pointless endeavor that I am still a little uneasy with and morally conflicted about? It comes down to basically this:
-I like to write and need a forum to do it.
-You like to read (liar) but find that books have too much “plot” and “character development” and “literary merit”. Plus you have no life.
So therefore I present to you my online “journal”.
I’m now off to go hang my head in shame, before I do something even more stupid. Like join Friendster…
I swore the day this day would never come, and yet, come it has.
I'm one of "them".
I have an online journal.
But wait. Come back. Its not what it looks like. It’s not what you think it is. Oh, no. You wont find any tortured stories of lost love, personal soul searching or accounts of my trip to the grocery store here. No siree Bob. All you’ll find here is opinions. And ideas. And theories.
Wait, don't go. Its not going to be as self-indulgent as it sounds…
Well okay I lied about that but hey, it worked, you’re still reading aren’t you? I promise no more trickery like that though. Only honesty. Unless of course I don’t feel like it. But honesty is not really the point of this thing. This is just a forum for me to express my opinions on a variety of issues of varying degrees of unimportance. And there can be no lying when it comes to opinions, because there’s really only one opinion you can have on matters of pop cultural importance. Mine.
So never fear, you wont be getting any details of my personal life or deep insight into my inner being or whatever those new age people are referring to it as these days. No, no my friend (or random person with no life) none of that pish-posh will be found here. Hell has not completely frozen over. What you will find though, are my thoughts on things such as the state of hip-hop radio, why The Tonight Show symbolizes all that is wrong with America, the cultural significance of Mark David Chapman, and of course more “baseball as allegory for (fill in the blank)” bullshit than should legally be allowed to exist. (See told you I was lying about the self indulgent thing). I can already feel your excitement and anticipation. Please try to contain yourself.
Thank you.
Is there a reason why I have decided to embark on this pointless endeavor that I am still a little uneasy with and morally conflicted about? It comes down to basically this:
-I like to write and need a forum to do it.
-You like to read (liar) but find that books have too much “plot” and “character development” and “literary merit”. Plus you have no life.
So therefore I present to you my online “journal”.
I’m now off to go hang my head in shame, before I do something even more stupid. Like join Friendster…
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