As much as I enjoy following the day-to-day horserace aspect of politics, I want to pull out my hair every time I stop just digesting the information and start thinking about what it means. Because then I realize that the Republican candidates for office, whose views and policies aren't that much different than the current dudes in office, have adopted this strategic tack of running as heroic reformers of their own party, the outsiders coming in to save the day. They're basically saying, "Those guys fucked it up, we believe the same things as those guys, but we won't fuck it up... because we're mavericks."
Unbelievable. These guys should be laughed off the stage. And yet, the race is essentially tied.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
EVERYTHING I EVER LISTENED TO, PT. 1
Here, in a roughly chronological order, is every cassette tape/CD I purchased between grades four and eight. Why not? In high school I could probably tell you exactly how each CD purchase led to another, weave a thread to explain how Limp Bizkit led to Catch-22 led to Joanna Newsom. Now I acquire so much stuff at such a rapid clip that the only common acqusitional denominator is late-night musical A.D.D. and the quest for a constantly fresh radio hour. Better for the overall listening experience, but it lacks the kind of High Fidelity music-as-narrative-placeholder-for-life-events power.
So here we go. Part 1 begins at the tail-end of elementary school, the walkman purchase, and ends with my first CD in sixth grade... Because after I posted about the Grammy tape I decided that my time would be better spent listening to Paula Cole on the YouTube.
1. ACE OF BASS - THE SIGN
I don't remember where I first heard Ace of Bass -- I guess it had to be the radio, right? Either way, I do distinctly remember my mom driving me to the mall so I could buy this on cassette at a store called The Wall, which had this awesome guarantee where you could return any purchase at any time if it ever went to shit if you had a little proof-of-purchase sticker. Cool. All my first albums were from there. Anyway, I spent so much time listening this on my walkman, and, to my younger self's credit, I still think "The Sign," "All That She Wants," "Don't Turn Around" and "Happy Nation" are damn catchy singles. In fact, '90s Euro-dance-pop is probably my favorite arbitrary genre ever. (I'd link to a definitive genre mix I posted on the KRLX MP3 blog a couple years ago but the site's down right now.) At any rate, the fact that this album was my first-ever purchase is as good a testament as any to the kid I was. Forget my collection of sports jerseys that I always rocked to school; I was getting down to totally gay pop music in my spare time. Whoo!
2. JOCK JAMS VOL. 1
Forget what you know about the Jock Jams mega-mix or whatever the Jock Jams series has become, this pristine original volume was pure rock & roll. Obviously I was into it because it was all familiar sports anthems that I'd heretofore only known a line or two of, but this tape was my first exposure to: Queen, the Ramones, Sly & the Family Stone, the Romantics, James Brown. Real good shit. My buddy Matt and I used to use tracing paper to make bad copies of some of the cool drawings of his wallpaper and I played him "Blitzkrieg Bop," which I loved but couldn't understand a fucking word of. Here is what I thought some of the lyrics were:
The fun is in the back set/ the den-a-ray stee-bies / I'm taped to the back beat/ The blitzkrieg bop.
Matt in turn showed me Guns 'N' Roses or something, but I never got into it. We did play a lot of the original Doom though on PC. That game was rad as hell.
3. MATCHBOX 20 - YOURSELF OR SOMEBODY LIKE YOU
I haven't listened to this album in about 10 years, but I would put money on the fact that I could sing along to every single song on this album practically word-for-word. Maybe I'd need one listen to reacquaint myself with it, but after that... aces, dude. Even the songs that never became singles. This was my first actual CD, again purchased at The Wall. I played the shit out of this, first obsessing over the hits, and then, like I said, coming to love the whole thing. Is this album good? No. But for the late nights I spent on the top bunk listening to Rob Thomas and just digging it in a way that only a naive 12-year-old can, it's a memorable one.
4. GREEN DAY - NIMROD
Man, this album just sucked. Even at the time I thought so. Obviously purchased on the strength of the single.
5. 1998 GRAMMY NOMINEES COMPILATION
I think my memory is fuzzy, because I'm sure I had this on tape, but this also came out after Matchbox 20 and Green Day, both of which I had on CD. Some great angsty girl pop-rock that could only have come out of the late '90s, Paul Cole's "Where Have All the Cowboys Gone" and Shawn Colvin's "Sunny Came Home" being particular favorites. Man, actually, the entire thing was sweet. Look at this.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
MUCH MORE SWIMMING STILL TO COME
I walk around downtown and I see guys wearing short shorts all the time. It seems like they've been back in style for a few summers now.
Monday, August 4, 2008
MCCAIN SUCKS
The biggest political story that hasn't gotten much coverage this year is that John McCain is a fucking hack of a candidate. Dude has no serious policy proposals -- in fact, he kind of disdains talking about any policy not Iraq-related -- has done a complete 180 since his Champion of Reform campaign of 2000 and has gone negative faster than any presidential candidate in recent memory to boot, the definitive sign of having no vision and nothing to asy. For most politicians this kind of hackery gets you branded as backwards thinking, flip-flopper and dishonorable, respectively, but John McCain gets a free pass on all this for cozying up to the media for a few years and cultivating his own brand. And that's his job as a politician, especially one with presidential aspirations, so good for him. But I can't figure why the media is so complicit in perpetuating the McCain myth even as his campaign continues to embarass itself with its total ineptitude and lack of standing for anything besides Obama-hating. And so even though I know it won't happen, I hope that this story slowly makes its way into the mainstream media and all we hear about for a few days is how after John McCain flip-flopped his position on offshore drilling -- and I want to hear that word, flip-flopped -- and just days later Republican coffers were more than 250k fuller thanks to big oil execs. At the very least, it should shed some light on what the offshore drilling debate is really about and who truly stands to benefit from it.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
PANGEA PART II: PANGEA RETURNS
One of the highlights this summer has been a killer power pop mix CD that I have in constant rotation in my car. Truth: power pop was made for summer days when just a foot out the door is an instant mood boost. Even better, listening to it when the windows are down and you're wearing the goofy sunglasses your little brother has most likely acquired as a novelty item at some party or other. Driving time has been limited lately by the fact that I spent most of my week in NY, so I'm forgoing the unpredictability of classic rock and rap radio and going with the meticulously-crafted playlist. Listening to the Cars loud as fuck while leaving the Foodtown parking lot? No regrets. The playlist was mostly compiled by scanning through power pop threads on ILM, but here it is, from me to you, the soundtrack the rest of yr Indian summer. Please, please, let the first time you hear this be in the car if possible, and make sure to TURN IT UP. Few pleasures greater than pulling out of the driveway to the opening drum of "Ballroom Blitz."
Do you know how hard it was to do that for you? You owe it to me to make good on that work.
Also, if you wanna hear me playing the Battery Maritime Building as part of that David Byrne sound installation, head over here...
Monday, July 28, 2008
Slutty Amelia Earhart
So I took my little brother to Great Adventure theme park this weekend. (He is going to sleepaway camp for the first time this weekend; so wild!) I have a few hazy memories of Great Adventure from my teens that all blend together into one or two visits. One is finding out that the record for the log flume in one day according to my friends (who had, I guess, heard from the operator) was something like 20 times. That can't be true, but anyone who pays $40 to do the log flume 20 times is an idiot! I mean, it's a theme park staple, and a decent ride to boot, but 20 times--why? It's much better to stand on the bridge and get rocked by a charged wave anyway.
Another memory that stands out is waiting on line behind this Mexican dude puffing the worst smelling thing I'd ever smelled. The odor was burned into my senses for days, and I was not a sensitive-to-smoke kid, really. A few years later I would find out that this was the burn of a Black and Mild--although, I swear, that one time the odor was for whatever reason majorly amplified--and spent many a summer night before college with my co-counselors passing one around the staff porch like a blunt. Anyway, Great Adventure has now banned cigs inside the park, which as a surrogate parent for the afternoon is a major relief. Although funnily enough I did smell some ganj while waiting in line for one ride. At one point in my life I thought it would be fun to get really baked in the car on the ride over and ride the Great American Scream Machine, but that dream has yet to be realized.
Another thing: there is a serious paucity of hot twenty-something to ogle at walking around Great Adventure. Lots of girls dressed all skimpy, for sure, but most of them are just ugly in an indistinct way. It really made waiting on line that much harder.
Finally, starting V. over for the fourth time in about as many years. Will I finish? Forecast is not optimistic, but I am holding out hope. I haven't read a book yet this summer, it's getting quite pathetic, but I am up on the political news and celebrity gossip like never before. It's not that my interest in that stuff is on the rise, but I am imbibing that stuff on the regular via extended Gawker breaks at work.
Another memory that stands out is waiting on line behind this Mexican dude puffing the worst smelling thing I'd ever smelled. The odor was burned into my senses for days, and I was not a sensitive-to-smoke kid, really. A few years later I would find out that this was the burn of a Black and Mild--although, I swear, that one time the odor was for whatever reason majorly amplified--and spent many a summer night before college with my co-counselors passing one around the staff porch like a blunt. Anyway, Great Adventure has now banned cigs inside the park, which as a surrogate parent for the afternoon is a major relief. Although funnily enough I did smell some ganj while waiting in line for one ride. At one point in my life I thought it would be fun to get really baked in the car on the ride over and ride the Great American Scream Machine, but that dream has yet to be realized.
Another thing: there is a serious paucity of hot twenty-something to ogle at walking around Great Adventure. Lots of girls dressed all skimpy, for sure, but most of them are just ugly in an indistinct way. It really made waiting on line that much harder.
Finally, starting V. over for the fourth time in about as many years. Will I finish? Forecast is not optimistic, but I am holding out hope. I haven't read a book yet this summer, it's getting quite pathetic, but I am up on the political news and celebrity gossip like never before. It's not that my interest in that stuff is on the rise, but I am imbibing that stuff on the regular via extended Gawker breaks at work.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
SEE PAGE 2 FOR DETAILS
I think it's funny when little kids cry on the subway, trying to cope with the claustrophobia and the heat. Everyone around them is struggling with the same discomfort, but kids just experience the feeling completely raw, and all they can do is bawl. They are the realest.
Subway tensions are riding high these days. I was thrown some mean eyes this morning on the way to the office. My car was kind of crowded and I was pressed against the door with my headphones on, half-awake and somewhat oblivious to the world around (specifically, behind) me, and I guess I really pissed this woman a few years older than me off. First I accidentally put my hand where her hand was on the support. No biggie. Then when she was trying to get off the train I guess I was right in her way. Maybe she said something, I don't know -- I was tuned into the Morrissey -- but it lead to a tap on the shoulder and an exasperated glare that spoke volumes. Never feel good about stuff like that, but no need to frrreak out at me as long as you get off the train on time. Luckily it was not as bad of an omen as I thought and the workday was more or less uneventful.
Curtis and I are seeing the Mets tomorrow. Was supposed to be Lincecum-Santana but the Gints shortened their rotation for the All Star break so Lincecum pitched tonight. Am I not a good Met fan if I didn't completely enjoy it when Carlos Beltran rocked Lincecum for a three-run shot in the first inning? Unless the BoSox are the club in question, I always like pulling for young aces. And Pelfrey? Go Big Pelf. Dude's looking more and more like he'll be the good two pitcher he was supposed to be. Wouldn't have guessed that last September. And the Mets are now, what, 1 1/2 games behind? You have to love the NL East. And if the Mets start sucking again, I am pulling for a Rays-Marlins Series.
Subway tensions are riding high these days. I was thrown some mean eyes this morning on the way to the office. My car was kind of crowded and I was pressed against the door with my headphones on, half-awake and somewhat oblivious to the world around (specifically, behind) me, and I guess I really pissed this woman a few years older than me off. First I accidentally put my hand where her hand was on the support. No biggie. Then when she was trying to get off the train I guess I was right in her way. Maybe she said something, I don't know -- I was tuned into the Morrissey -- but it lead to a tap on the shoulder and an exasperated glare that spoke volumes. Never feel good about stuff like that, but no need to frrreak out at me as long as you get off the train on time. Luckily it was not as bad of an omen as I thought and the workday was more or less uneventful.
Curtis and I are seeing the Mets tomorrow. Was supposed to be Lincecum-Santana but the Gints shortened their rotation for the All Star break so Lincecum pitched tonight. Am I not a good Met fan if I didn't completely enjoy it when Carlos Beltran rocked Lincecum for a three-run shot in the first inning? Unless the BoSox are the club in question, I always like pulling for young aces. And Pelfrey? Go Big Pelf. Dude's looking more and more like he'll be the good two pitcher he was supposed to be. Wouldn't have guessed that last September. And the Mets are now, what, 1 1/2 games behind? You have to love the NL East. And if the Mets start sucking again, I am pulling for a Rays-Marlins Series.
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