Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Top 11 Albums of 2008

I can't help myself - I really, really wanted to whittle this list down to a top ten. But I just can't do it. I debated, I hemmed and hawed. I gnashed my teeth and dressed in sack cloth. No matter what I did, I just couldn't bring myself to leave any of these albums off of my top list, so I can sit comfortably with eleven. I'm also including the other like eighteen or so that all got honorable mention from me this year. All in all, I'd say this was a pretty good year for music. Nothing earth-shattering, but no major disappointments unless you count the fact that Axl finally released "Chinese Democracy". Too bad it was lame (from all I heard, at least). So, with no further ado, I present to you my top eleven albums for 2008:


1) Brain Thrust Mastery - We Are Scientists

I just don't get it. No one, and I mean literally no one to this point has put this list on even put this album on their "honorable mention" or "in contention" lists. Did the U.S. just go to sleep on this one? I know that WAS are much, much more popular in Europe than over here. But still, this album is a top-to-bottom collection of great music. The guys are silly, the songs are catchy but don't slack on quality musicianship, and there is plenty of hipster cred to go around. And let's not forget that if you toss in a little extra cash, you could get the two-disc set which includes an amazing live set from Union Chapel in London. If you haven't heard it, go out and listen to this song.

2) Alopecia - Why?
I just discovered this band in the past year. Apparently they've been cranking out music since about '99 or 2000, and everything that I've heard from them has been good, but this album stands head and shoulders above the rest of the stuff I've heard from them. There's indie rock, there are ridiculously catchy loops and beats, there are absurdly good and clever lyrics. Again, it's a great disc from top to bottom, and I'm really hard-pressed to find an artist that I could compare to this band. Take a listen to the opening track here and see for yourself.

3) Moonbeams - Throw Me the Statue
I love multi-instrumentation. When you can have horns, strings, accordion, and even a glockenspiel to round out the sound of a band, it always makes me smile. These guys are new on the scene; though they're based in the Pacific NW, they have roots in San Francisco, and they put on one hell of a live show. I am always torn when I talk about this band - I love them and would love to see them blow up, but then I wouldn't be able to see them in smaller clubs and interact with members of the band after they've played. Eh, I think they'll blow up -- with songs this good, it's hard not to.

4) Walk it Off - Tapes 'n Tapes
I don't know exactly what it is about this band, but I can't get enough of them. It could be that they have what I think is the most underrated song of the year in "Say Back Something". It's so under-appreciated, in fact, that I can't find any reference of it on YouTube. These guys (or at least their producer) mastered that "this was recorded on tape, so it doesn't sound too perfect sound on this album.
They also have an appropriately absurd and hilarious video for the first single off this album.

5) Volume 1 - She & Him
Super cutie Zooey Deschanel and indie rock utility musician M. Ward come together to make one of the most perfect discs I've heard in a while. It's old-timey, but not in a hokey way, and it doesn't include much of that country twang that kept Jenny Lewis' album off my list. It's just a straightforward album that might be the greatest makeout album since MBV's "Loveless".
Also, their version of the old Smokey Robinson song "You Really Got A Hold On Me" is such an accomplishment it would melt my heart even if it weren't sung by the hands-down cutest girl in all of indie.

6) You & Me - The Walkmen
These guys caught me off guard. I had heard their name thrown around a lot by a number of people, but it wasn't until I heard this album that I really got it. They kind of capture that vintage sound that The Cold War Kids pulled off last year and had so much trouble replicating this year. The songs and instrumentation are somewhat sparse, and the singer has one of those voices you either get or don't, but these kids from Billyburg really pulled it all together on this album. Their song "In the New Year" is hands-down the crowning achievement of the album despite its peculiar video.

7) Innocent Ghosts - Geographer
This is my nod to complete and total Bay Area pride. Why? is from Berkeley, but they're fairly well known nationally. Geographer is a local band whom I was hipped to by a friend, and they really blew me away the first time I saw them. I picked up the CD (the show was the band's CD release party) and was every bit as pleased. Expect to hear a lot from them in the coming year(s) and expect to see me at their show with The Botticellis on January 14th. So far the only thing I don't really get about this band is their first video. Hipster interpretive dance?

8) Devotion - Beach House
This album is just chock full of Dream Pop goodness. The addition of slide guitar to a number of the songs really, really floats my boat. It's sparse enough to be tranquil, but there's enough there that you don't forget you're listening to music as can happen with some lesser achievements. Some argue that their debut self-titled album was really their better, but I have a soft spot for this disc. Plus, someone was cool enough to make a video with their song Gila over a video of Jayne Mansfield. Either way, it was one that I kept thinking "oh, I guess it doesn't have to make the top ten" but just didn't have the heart to give the axe to.

9) Narrow Stairs - Death Cab for Cutie
Another disc that almost didn't make it. I was debating with a co-worker a few weeks back whether or not this had the merit to make it on top ten lists, and that prompted me to go back and give it a few more listens. I will come out and say it - this is a phenomenal album. It doesn't have the amazing singles that "Plans" had, nor can it really compete with "We Have the Facts", but dammit, this album is yet another accomplishments from probably the biggest indie rock hit machine outside of Spoon. I just don't like the choice of singles, they really needed to hype "Cath" more than "I Will Possess Your Heart" with its four minute redundant intro.

10) LP3 - Ratatat
These guys do what they do better than anyone else. I don't even know how to describe what it is that they do. Instro-indie-beats? Electro-awesomeness? Whatever it is, I hope they manage to keep cranking out records like they are now. It's wonderfully melodic, it's catchy, and it makes me bob my head in approvement anytime I hear it. Basically, whenever these guys put out an album, it's got a great chance of making it on to my "best of" list for that year. It's the type of music I'd love to make if I knew a hell of a lot more about programming beats and loops. Check out the first single off this disc.

11) Hold On Now, Youngster... - Los Campesinos
These kids just seems like a good time no matter what. The album is a hell of a lot of fun to listen to, and they don't let hipster preoccupations keep them from rocking out and making some up-tempo overdriven music. I do have to question their releasing of two albums this year, but still I refuse to lump the two together for a single review. Plus, I don't have the latest release, so I can't speak one way or another about it. All I can say is that I liked this album way too much to keep it off of my "best of" list for this year. Their single "You! Me! Dancing!" also has a hearty dose of glockenspiel, which, as you know, always wins my heart over.


I will say that I was most disappointed to leave off "Some Racing, Some Stopping" by Headlights. I feel that it was a fantastic album, but when you have to stack ANYTHING up against their previous album "Kill them with Kindness", there's just no way you can stack up.

HONORABLE MENTION (aka "Albums in the Running")
(in no particular order)

Fleet Foxes (self-titled)
Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin - Pershing
DeVotchKa - A Mad & Faithful Telling
Deerhunter - Microcastle
Headlights - Some Racing, Some Stopping
The Rhumb Line - Ra Ra Riot
Minus the Bear - Acoustics
Mates of State - Re-Arrange Us
TV on the Radio - Dear Science
Helio Sequence - Keep Your Eyes Ahead
Does it Offend You, Yeah? - You Have No Idea What You're Getting Yourself Into
Crystal Castles (self-titled)
Because of Ghosts - The Culture of Background Noise
MGMT - Oracular Spectacular
Abe Vigoda - Skeleton
My Morning Jacket - Evil Urges
The Notwist - The Devil, You + Me
Murder By Death - Red of Tooth & Claw

And I close out this music posting by wishing my congratulations to Ben Gibbard and Zooey Deschanel on their engagement. Some day she will finally come to her senses and realize that she actually loves me, she just doesn't know it yet.

Sunday, December 28, 2008

Happy Holidays?

Well wrap me in tinsel and call me crabby - I can't believe I have to go back to friggin' work tomorrow. I managed to accomplish basically nothing all weekend long. Band practices under achieved, my overall number of friends socialized with is on the low side, even for me, and I got neither blogging nor thesis work done. Granted, writing has been limited to the few moments here and there where I can escape the cacophony that is know as my mother trying to talk to my grandmother. I'll just say thank heavens for Bose headphones.

I do at least promise my "Best albums of 2008" posting in the next day or two, once I get a chance to sit down with my iTunes and really have a chance to sort through it all.

So what has been good news from the past year in case you haven't already read or known first hand from me? Well, there's the new band, my borderline obsessive love for web comics, my employment, and a new standing Saturday night at the bar ritual that is one of the two major reasons I look forward to the weekend. I could talk about downside stuff, but it's the garden variety stuff: still single, my liver's gradual erosion, and things hurting more and for longer periods than they did a few years ago.

So, looking forward to 2009 your guess is as good as mine. I don't do resolutions, because they only cause me to be more disappointed in myself than usual. Still, I'm cautiously optimistic. I appear to be in a good spot to get some significant things wrapped up this year (namely the thesis, but I'm sure there's more) and thanks to my relatively newfound full time employment, I am becoming more and more financially stable every day.

Anyhow, I've rambled on long enough. The next few postings should be a tad more exciting and compelling, but at the end of the year, I think every blogger gets to self-indulge ever so slightly in one of those "looking back, looking forward" postings. Unfortunately, I don't get that into them.

Thursday, December 25, 2008

Merry Christmas, Everyone!



Greetings folks, sorry I've been a tad remiss in my blogging in the past week, but I have been understandably busy with holiday prep both at home and at work on top of my usual musical ventures and busy-ness. Expect the next few days to be chock full of various "top of 2008" lists and whatnot. In the meantime I'm going to watch "A Charlie Brown Christmas" about four or five more times and empathize.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

For old time's sake.

Those of you who were at any time in the past my Myspace friends my recall that I really cut my comedic teeth on all of those inane surveys that used to float around Myspace bulletin land. So I thought just the sake of sweet memories, I'd treat all of you to one tonight. Enjoy!

BASICS
Name: Guillaume.
Age: Old enough. To party.
Location: 37° 37' N 122° 23' W
Girl or boy: testicled American. Then again, this is San Francisco.
Single or taken: if you're reading this, chances are you already know.
Like anyone?: no. no one. And I mean no one.

RANDOM QUESTIONS

Do you celebrate Christmas?: I celebrate "International Happy Birthday Jesus Day"
How much do you normally spend on Christmas gifts?: I tithe one tenth of my income.
How much do people spend on you?: Less and less every year.
Do you give gift cards?: I give gifts. I give cards.
Do you make stuff?: Yes, and sometimes I make in my pants.
Do you give gift baskets?: I am gift enough sans basket.
Do you give big presents?: Go big or go home.
Are you done with Christmas questions?: I was done before I started.
What kind of shoes do you like to wear?: Low tops?
Do you shop at J.C. Penny?: No. I have been known to shop at JCPenney though.
Do you go shopping on Black Friday?: In e-commerce, it's more of a religious holiday.
Who was the last person to talk to you that wasn't related to you?: C-Nutz

ABOUT YOUR BEST FRIEND

Are they single?: No one is single anymore. Except me.
Do they like anyone?: No. They don't even like me.
Do you think they are attractive?: As a rule, all my friends are more attractive than me.
Have you ever felt feelings for your best friend?: I feel many feelings for my best friend. Sometimes I even feel friendship.
Have you ever fought with them?: As I have stated, they don't like me. Hence fighting all the time.
Have you every fought over a girl/boy with them?: The proper term is "transvestite" and the answer is no.
Are you their best friend?: I'm everyone's best friend.

FAVORITES

Color: Black, like my soul.
Restaurant: P. Chow.
Singer: I play in surf bands. I don't believe in singers.
Band: Rubber.
Superhero: Na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na....
Book: On the Road.
Movie: Let's just say I'm an achiever.
CD: CDeez nuts.
Song: Anything documenting the subtle intricacies of ghost riding the whip or going stupid, dumb, and hyphy.
Article of clothing: My sock garters.
Stereotype: The one about how white people can't drive, are lazy, and love eating watermelon & fried chicken.

SHUFFLE YOUR MP3 PLAYER AND ANSWER THE QUESTIONS

What's your name?: Approaching Pavonis Mons By Balloon (Utopia Planitia)
How do you feel about your best friend?: It's Natural to be Afraid (The Paper Chase Mix)
What is your favorite Song?: No Sign of Life
Why?: Riot Van
What is your favorite Childhood toy?: Skate and Bait
Do you have any pets?: Necronomicon Ex Boardis
How do you feel about your siblings?: Don't Leave Me On My Own
How do you feel about your girlfriend/boyfriend?: Topless Beach

THIS AND THAT

Black or white?: Things are never that simple.
Pink or Black?: I never say no to the pink, but once you have black you never go back.
Christmas or Halloween?: Arbor Day
Christmas or Thanksgiving?: Columbus Day
Jonas Brothers or Miley Cyrus: I refuse to support any "musician" backed by a cartoon mouse.
Coke or Pepsi?: Always loyal to the Royal. Crown, that is.
Shoes or high heels?: High heels are only for "naughty time"
Sneakers or flats?: Does anyone out there call them sneakers anymore? Why not just call them "trainers".
Makeup or hair?: Au naturale, au alopecia.
Love or money?: I have essentially none of either. And no idea how to get some.

MORE BASICS ABOUT YOU

Do you have any pets?: I have a revolving door of goldfish. My plumbing stays busy. I blame the pH levels.
Siblings?: Only one. I still think I absorbed a twin, which explains my big bones.
Pick three cousins, and name them: I refuse to dignify these questions
Tell me why you chose them: with a response.
Are they related?: Umm... they're cousins.
Who are their parents?: My aunts and uncles.
How old are they?: Older than me.
Do they live close to you?: No. This was wildly time wasting, and I apologize on behalf of whatever friggin' moron wrote this inane section.

ENDING QUESTIONS

Did you like this survey?: Again, I don't like anything. Moreover, this survey has actually raised my ire a bit.
Do you like to do your hair elaborately?: If by "elaborately" you mean "run your fingers through your hair after falling out of bed", then yes.
What's your favorite website?: You're looking at it.
Are you preppy?: Only when Muffy and Pierce are willing to take a break from their polo lessons and join me at the Country Club.
Emo?: Just ask the blood on my laptop.
Skater?: The last time I tried to skateboard, I fell on my ass and the board almost got run over by a bus.
Goth?: Only when the dark queen Azmandara deems me worthy, which she only does when the demagogue Zul emits the evil word to her.
Girly?: Only on the inside.
Dorky?: 24-7. Just ask the glasses. Or the fact that I'm doing a myspace survey on my fucking blog.
Snobby?: Only when I have to be around poor people.
Jock?: Only on the days that I totally gun my lats.
None of the above?: Only when I'm not any of the above.
What would you label yourself?: "Do Not Touch"

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Carl's Jr. Can Kiss My Ass.


I have kept mum about this as I never thought I was all that terribly bad in the past. Yes, I took issue with their old slogan of "without us, some guys would starve." I still think it's dumb. If you can't figure the basics of cooking, and not only lack the ability to prepare food, let alone buy food, chances are you deserve to starve. Moreover, it should absolutely nothing to do with the presence of testicles. Just because I pack a Y chromosome doesn't mean that I am lost in a kitchen. Still, I said "okay, they're just playing off an ignorant stereotype.

However, now they have gone too far. The premise of this series of commercials is that some sweatpants-donning douchebag has promised his wildly hotter-than-he-is girlfriend that he would take her to a steak dinner. When she arrives all skanked out at his house, he is sitting like a moron, playing a handheld video game. When asked why he isn't ready to go, it is brought to light that he has planned to take her to a romantic dinner at a fucking fast food restaurant. The slogan "how men do fancy".

My issues:

1) It makes the wild claim that people still actually eat at Carl's Jr.
2) Hot skank girlfriend with loser boyfriend.
3) Loser boyfriend manages to theoretically keep his girlfriend without obviously buying her affection.
4) Videogame playing is used to further enforce a man's undateable status.
5) "Steak dinner" is supposed to be an acceptable stand-in for "fast food imitation steakmeat made of grade F dog"
6) Any man thinks it's okay to take a girl to Carl's Jr. for dinner
7) Now, not only can men not cook, they also cannot understand what "fancy" means.


As a testicle-bearing American, I take personal offense to Carl's Jr. and their marketing morons. Whomever came up with those pathetic excuses for commercials should be chemically sterilized for the good of the species. If not chemically, I'd be happy to do it manually.

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Friendship.


Last night I was out with my friends in the Mission as always. It proved to be an... interesting experience.

As most of you know, I hold my friends in the highest esteem. They have always been for me. They have always looked out for me and supported me in damn near everything I've done (unless that something is damn foolish). I know that I can entrust them with any secrets and can always turn to them for advice and comfort. But there was something that I saw last night that proved exactly how good some friends are. Luckily it didn't involve me, nor do I hope that I ever put my friends in a situation like this.

It was last call. The guys and myself were leaving the bar and heading back to the car. As we paused, we saw it: two guys stumbling down the street. We giggled, exchanged the "oh man, they're going to hate themselves tomorrow" looks and stories, and kept on walking. So did the guys. We continued to be quietly amused in watching these guys weave their way along the sidewalk, clinging to each other for uprightness. As I looked a tad more closely and I was startled. "Holy crap -- that guy is missing a shoe!" I couldn't keep it to myself. The guy who was the far more visibly intoxicated of the two was walking down the street with one tennis shoe on and one sock-clad foot. Down 16th Street. Past the puddles of urine, past the gum and cigarette butts, past vomited-in alleys. Nothing between his foot and the concrete but a thin layer of used-to-be-white cotton.

Not even a third of a block had elapsed when I suddenly felt elbow jabs from my friend. We had walked by a storefront where the lighting was better than what we'd had at that point. I followed his pointing finger, and couldn't believe my eyes. My amazement was confirmed as my friend said to me in hushed tones: "He fucking pissed himself." He couldn't be more right. This poor fool was not only stumbling down the street being held up by his friend, he had lost a shoe and pissed his pants. There is no way to even begin to describe what kind of state that guy must have been in.

However, the whole time as we were trying to keep our laughter to a minimum so as to not draw attention to ourselves or to the fact that we realized dude was walking down the street in one shoe and pee pants, I had to stop and think for a moment "wow, that dude's friend has got his back far and beyond most anything anyone could expect." And while I honestly think that my friends would take care of me if I were to get into such a state, I rest happier knowing that my friends are quality enough that they would keep me from getting in that state in the first place.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Persistence.

So today I happened to do something I don't often do: I finished two books within about a two hour span of each other.

No, I don't read that fast, I just happened to be reading two books simultaneously and each happened to reach their end today.

But here's the kicker of the whole situation: I can't say that I exactly liked either of them. I won't go into details regarding which books they were or anything like that lest I invite backlash and criticism about my snobbish tastes in books, but it got me thinking. Why is it that I can devote hours of my life to something I'm just sort of ho-hum about? It's not like I had high expectations for either of them, or was especially looking forward to reading them - both were more of a matter of curiosity. But still, I can't help but wonder why -- I guess I was hoping that the books would get better. I was hoping the author would suddenly have a change of heart and write a chapter or two that might strike my fancy.

At this point, however, it is curious that books are one of the few things I will wait on like that. I will skip around albums mercilessly, passing judgment based on as little as about thirty seconds of actual listening. Even with people, I don't think I'd give folks as much time as I'd give a generally boring or uninteresting book. Eh, I guess at least for all my effort in reading the books not only can I now roll my eyes with meaning if and when I hear them mentioned, I have no worry of recourse as to the book defending itself or going on the offensive on me.

Does this make me justified in my gripes, or just a jerk? I can't really say anymore.

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Musical Realization Plus Some Exciting News


So I was listening to a little John Vanderslice this afternoon, and while I have been enamored with his album "Death of an American Four Tracker" for some time now, I just had a chance to listen to a little bit of his latest album "Emerald City" and he does something that has become a bit of a trend: he is simulating overdriven tape distortion as a musical device. I don't know why this is such an emerging sound, but there are a number of indie bands moving in that direction. When it is successful it can be divine, as in Tapes 'n Tapes' latest album Walk it Off. However, it can also be blatantly over done. Vanderslice doesn't quite cross the line that extremely in his latest effort, but both Sleater Kinney's The Trees and Clap Your Hands Say Yeah's sophomore album Some Loud Thunder both do this ad nauseum. I'm not critiquing the bands, just the technique. Hell, even all time favorites like Spoon and The Pixies have slipped in a couple instances of the technique that grates on my ears. I wish I could figure out why people do it, and moreover, I wish those folks would stop. Please - I love a little lo-fi edge to warm up a recording, but let's keep it under control.

Now on to the exciting (at least I sure as hell hope it is as exciting as it could be) news: they are making a sequel do Donnie Darko. Titled S. Darko, it is supposed to document Donnie's younger sister, Samantha, who is troubled with visions of her own. I'm curious because it's an almost real-time depiction of the time that has passed between the present day and when they made the original movie. Sounds fascinating but I hope with all my heart that they don't screw this one up.

Monday, December 8, 2008

City envy of sorts.

I don't know that "City Envy" quite captures what I am trying to describe, but it's about as close as I can get to it. I suppose I'm not really feeling envy, more just... confusion. So here's my gripe: New York gets way too much attention in entertainment.

Just stop and think about it....

Crazy, isn't it? I suppose this all was prompted by one of those silly quizzes from Facebook. It gives you a synopsis of a show and asks you to identify which show it was. Goofy? Yes. A waste of my time? Moderately. Still, as I was taking this otherwise mind-numbing quiz, I couldn't help but notice that an inordinately large percentage of the shows described were set in Manhattan. A majority of modern movies are set in New York. Even a higher percentage of books I've been reading lately have all been based around New Yorkers doing New Yorky things. I realize that New York is a bit of a cultural mecca here in the States. I don't deny it and its influence, but come on. What about shows in LA, in SF? I know there are some, but when you stack it up, I'm sure there are more shows about New York than the next top five cities combined.

I have been to New York, I've seen Manhattan, and I realize that there is a whole lot that the city has to offer. But as my good friend Pete put it, there is a veritable smorgasbord of cultural activity here in SF too. There is history, there is art, sports, everything one could want. Naturally, this isn't the first time that I've realized stuff like this, but it seems lately I've been noticing more and more: while most other stories based in cities use their cities as a backdrop, in most New York stories are all about being in New York. It's almost like the city itself is another character in the story.

Perhaps when all of this thesis mess is all wrapped up, I'll have a chance to do a little more writing for pleasure. If I do, I tell you this much, my stories will damn well be set in San Francisco.

Friday, December 5, 2008

Lame.


What happened to me?

When did this happen? When did I become a bassist?

I had practice with The Lava Rats (that's my band for you kids keeping score at home) tonight. It was the first time I'd played guitar instead of bass at a band practice for the first time in probably six weeks or so. Guess what?

My fingers are killing me.

No fooling. Two hours of playing guitar rather than bass for a change. Two hours and my fingers are a wreck. Yes, the weather is cold and dry. Yes, my strings are slightly old and ever so slightly crusty, but still. I used to be able to play rotten old acoustic guitars for longer than I played tonight and my fingers would feel roughly this bad.

I've lost it. I'm a wuss. I can still make the notes sound the way they're supposed to sound. My fingers are still nimble as ever, but those skinny little guitars strings are doing a number on my otherwise stout calluses.

I feel like an amateur. So I'm going do to the only thing I can do: I'm going to bed. Then I'm going to play more guitar in the next week or so, then I'm going to practice again and I'm going to show those scrawny guitar strings who is really the boss.

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Over informed?


As I have discussed more times than I feel necessary, I don't watch a whole hell of a lot of TV. I prefer my life this way. More than anything else, I despise the news. It seems like any time I am cruising up or down the dial, there is some news broadcast telling me what is wrong with people around me, be it local, national, or international. Quite frankly, I find watching the news painfully depressing, so I try my best not to. Like so many people of my generation, I get the bulk of my news from the internet. It's pretty catch-as-catch-can, but it assures that I only really hear about the major events, which really are more or less the only things worth fretting over in the first place.

So tonight, I happened to be spending a little quality time in front of the toob, which is a rarity in itself, and I happened to see a commercial from a local network. This is not the network that decided to come up with the harebrained scheme to run a news broadcast at 9:00 p.m., for all those people who can't wait that ever important hour between the time that the hour long 7:00 p.m. newscast ends and the standard 10:00 p.m. newscast begins. No, this network actually keeps a generally standard news schedule in the day/evening time. However, it was their morning broadcast that struck me as a result of this commercial.

Now, before I get into the inanity that you'll hear about momentarily, I will mention yet again that I am not a morning person. On average, the time from when my feet hit the floor when I'm out of bed to the time that I step out my front door never exceeds fifteen minutes. This leaves no time for news broadcasts, no time for breakfast, no time for much of anything outside of the morning ritual of tooth brushing, deodorizing, getting dressed, and packing up. I don't understand morning news in general. I really don't understand people who wake up any time much before six or six thirty in the morning. But then again, I am sitting here at ten minutes to two, wide awake.

But I've kept you in suspense long enough -- on to this commercial. This commercial was for the morning news broadcast that started at 4:00 a.m. Yes, four in the morning. The time I tend to go to sleep on a Saturday night. Now, I understand that there are some people who have to wake up that early. It's understandable, especially if they face an epic commute or start work at some ungodly early hour. I'd like to believe if you have to wake up every day that early, you don't do so to watch news. Maye there are folks out there who like to use the morning news as background noise. I prefer good ol' music. Now, it's not bad enough that this news broadcast starts some two and a half hours before sunrise -- the broadcast lasts until ten in the morning. Yes, ten. Six fucking hours. That is literally one quarter of a broadcast day. Is television in such a sad state that a regular broadcast TV network thinks it's a smart move to dedicate a quarter of their day to one single newscast. Yes, I know, people wake up at all times in that range, and it's probably the same thing cycled throughout the morning with a lot of weather and traffic and all that rubbish. But come on now -- six hours. That's about two thirds of an average person's workday.

Is this what we've come to? Do that many people care? What the hell ever happened to weekday morning cartoons? Now that was something worth waking up for: I remember all through grade school, maybe even some of high school, I would get up early just so I could watch The Jetsons while I ate my breakfast. If that were to be an option these days, and I could do so uninterrupted, it would be the highlight of my day. Everyday. But no - we have six hours of newscast instead. Thank heavens; now I can stay up to date on coups, regicide, terrorism, and political scandal all before my Apple Jacks. Thank heavens for the information age.

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Another recommendation post.


Don't worry too much, this won't get terribly specific. I just thought I'd share a little of the enjoyment I'm having at the moment. This definitely falls into the "finer things in life" category.

It's one of the first nights in a while where it really feels like Winter. True, in San Francisco, that doesn't mean a hell of a lot, since things don't get especially cold here. But it's been foggy much of the day, so the air is clear and crisp. It's cold, but it's a relatively still cold; the wind is mild and really quite refreshing. It's a dark and quiet night, and I am sitting here in my cozy little basement hovel. I've been listening to The One AM Radio as I've been working out finishing the outline for the latest chapter of my thesis. The whole evening I've just had the string of Christmas lights lighting my room. I'm full on homemade turkey-noodle soup.

For me, this is what evenings at home should be, and I haven't had one this peaceful in a while. I am not all hopped up on caffeine as I tend to be most nights when I'm chasing my academic pursuits, I haven't been drinking, which as of late has been a change of pace as well. We all made it through the Thanksgiving weekend, and it is finally starting to feel like Winter for a change. Hell, I think there's even a pretty good chance of rain this week.

So, if you get the chance in the next couple of days, sit back and enjoy the oncoming Winter. This is that beautiful time of the year when you can legitimately enjoy the cold weather, since we're hopefully not tired of it just yet.

Sunday, November 30, 2008

A Few Tidbits From the Weekend.

So the holidays have come and gone and, as tends to happen with my world, it's been an interesting couple of days. I did the regular thanksgiving deal with the family and eating too much turkey, and meeting up with my buddy Pete and his crew for post-dinner drinks and fun.

Friday, I helped a friend shell two pounds worth of pecans for a pie competition which he was going to wage with a baking rival the following day. Always glad to help, I was a little let down that I didn't get a chance to taste the fruit of my labors. Still it was something I never thought I'd be doing.

Speaking of things I never thought I'd be doing, I can label one thing I did on Saturday night under that header as well: I rode a mechanical bull. I won't go into the specific details of exactly how all this happened, but suffice it to say that I got snookered into that "If I go, you have to go" mentality, and wound up on the back of a mechanical bull. I'd like to think I did okay as far as all that goes. Sure, it scrambled my eggs ever so slightly, but all in all, I wasn't terribly let down by the whole experience, and would even be willing to do it again sometime given the opportunity.

Over the weekend I also exposed some friends to various awesome bands and music, as well as re-discovering some gems that I'd overlooked for a while. For those of you who have it: check out Rilo Kiley's early stuff -- as much as I love "Under the Black Light" I think that "The Execution of All Things" might actually be their best work. Also, I have rekindled the flame I have for Scandinavian singers, mainly Sondre Lerche and Jens Lekman. I don't know exactly how they do what they do, but man do they do it well. I hope that someday I can tap into my inner Swede and make some music like that.

Speaking of making music like that, I set up my new four track, and I'm convinced that no matter how long I may own it, I will never possibly be able to use it up to its peak abilities. Why, you ask? Oh, it might have something to do with the fact that the instruction manual is eighty five freakin' page long. Or the fact that it comes with a separate sub-instruction manual dedicated strictly to the various ways to transfer recordings from the four track to whatever form of media I desire. Granted, if I can harness its power, I will be able to create music to my heart's desire with all sorts of cool add-ons and features, but at this rate, I'll be thirty by the time I really understand how to get this baby humming.

Well, that's all for me tonight. I guess this was a tad more personalized than I usually get with my postings but hey, I haven't really been out and about all that much this weekend in comparison to everyone else I know who had amazing tales of all the exciting travels and activities that that the holiday weekend entails. Also, I am purposefully omitting a picture since I don't have in my possession a picture of myself riding the bull.

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Thankful.

So throughout the course of the evening tonight, I have been trying to come up with some sort of "all the things I'm thankful for" special blog posting. At the moment, I am beginning to think that I might not be able to really get everything together. Then I kicked around the idea of going bitter and spiteful and focusing on the things I'm not thankful for. But if I were to do that, I might well be considered a dick; and the people who thought that would not be wrong.

So I'll be brief, I'll be generally un-sentimental, and I'll do everything I can not to be a dick.

More than anything I am thankful that I have a job. Let's not beat around the bush, here: times were tight, I'd dipped about as far into my savings as I possibly could, and I was scarcely scraping by with the work I had. Better yet, I still have a job at the moment, despite the economic climate at the moment. I guess you'll have to check back with me after Black Friday to see just how comfortable and secure that employment remains, but in the meantime I have a good job and even better co-workers.

I'm thankful for all my friends. I like to believe that I express my thankfulness to them on a regular basis, but this is a great excuse to say it again. As happy as I am to have the great friends who have stuck around with me through all these years, I am equally thankful for an additional batch of newfound friends. Saturday nights at Gestalt may never be the same.

I'm thankful for my health -- barring the sore throat I've had for the last few days, I've been fit as a fiddle. I chalk it up to my regimen of alcohol, small amounts of sleep, and borderline-obsessive hand washing.

I am also thankful for all of you. Granted, most of you were covered in the friend section, but those of you who are just casual readers, you guys rock. If I wasn't convinced that there were some of you out there enjoying what I write and all that jazz, I probably wouldn't do this.

I will balance all this out by saying that there are a number of things I look forward to changing in the next year or so, which means it isn't all sunshine and pixie dust, but hey, I've got the rest of the year to gripe and groan. So for today, I eagerly await eating to the point of discomfort then sleeping like the dead.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Dinosaur Comics.

From Qwantz this morning. I felt that due to the literary references, this one had to be shared:

oh word 97, why do you not have "macbeth" in your spell check dictionary? you have had between 402 and 405 years to get your head in the game here.

In case you're unfamiliar with Dinosaur Comics, the mouseover text is every bit as important as what is on the page.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Do you tweet?

Probably two months ago or so, I started a Twitter account. To tell you the truth, at the get-go, I didn't even have a whole lot of reason as to why. I just figured as someone employed as a blogger, I should have as much knowledge as possible of all the various social networking sites. Plus, it was a generally easy thing to keep up while at work.

However, I have noticed that it has suddenly blown up in the past few weeks. All of a sudden, networks are growing, people are mobile tweeting all over the place (there are at least three separate twitter apps for the iPhone that I know of), and the whole thing is starting to get absurd. So, while I applaud the powers that be at Twitter for resisting a sale to Facebook, I am still curious as to see what will be happening in the coming weeks and months over there. Moreover, with mass layoffs all over the tech industry, how much longer can this continue. I mean, we see enough of FailWhale as it is, and what will happen as you have a mix of celebs who are getting tweeted at all the time, as well as those internet troll types who feel the need to obsessively tweet about the fact that they woke up, took a shower, and turned on their computer (all from their iphone before they have logged on to the website)? Will this microblogging craze take over, gradually pushing myspace into obscurity now that it is almost officially the slowest site on the internet? Plus, will people on Twitter realize that there are many more fun and interesting ways to take advantage of your account than to simply give status updates?

If you don't have an account, check it out - I will admit that it is pretty addictive. If you have one already, I hope we're following each other. Otherwise I'd just be sad.

Generational difference, or OCD?

Allow me to relate a story to you: so this year, thanks to the wondrous generosity of my company, I am pretty light on Christmas wishes. So I decided to be blunt as always with my parents, who seldom have the slightest clue as to what they should get me. So I decided to shoot it straight -- I just want a new desk chair. At the moment, my butt's receptacle is old and worn out. It was once a comfortable, well-crafted chair I'm sure, but it has got to be at least forty years old at this point. The leather has worn off the two corners at the front. One wheel falls of any time there isn't direct pressure on it, the leather on the seat is cracked and ripped, and a spring comes up through the hole, as the three separate snags on my pajama pants will attest to. Plus, it squeaks and squeals like an old jalopy any time I turn, recline, or even shift my weight.

So needless to say, while it had a long and fruitful career, it's time to retire this bad boy. I have my eyes on one of those sweet mesh-back dealies with the lumbar support and all that jazz. This is exactly what I told my folks. What precipitated from this description was a visit from my dad later that evening in which he tried to sell me on the idea of him fixing the wheels, having the chair reupholstered, and possibly replacing the springs.

So, this got me thinking: is this a generational difference? Are the prior generations more inclined to keep things in their possession and fix them up? Are we, as the new generation a product of our disposable culture? Are we more inclined to throw things out in favor of a new replacement, while prior generations had to get more use out of their stuff? Or is it just that my dad has a general inability to throw much of anything out? Not exactly a critique of my old man, but this is an honest-to-goodness question that has been plaguing the back of my mind for the last few months now.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Like no life you've ever lived.


Let me preface this by saying I'm not really an amazing world traveler. I enjoy traveling, I love taking in other countries, but I don't necessarily have the bank account or the freedom to travel like I wish. I know I could, but it's just not one of my top priorities.

So I'm sitting here on my couch watching a DVD of Henry Rollins do spoken word. This is one of my great joys in life - the man can talk like no other, he' intelligent as all hell, and his stories are fucking hilarious. The first spoken word album of his, he critiques the TV show "Friends" and rightfully so. But he uses the title of this posting as a line to describe the lives the characters lead. And it's true. While my friends and I may frequent coffee shops on the regular, we have next to nothing in common with those lovable TV scamps.

But I digress.

Anyhow, the one thing that strikes me about Rollins is that while he has amazing insights into damn near everything, and can probably make the dictionary an interesting read if he read it aloud and commented upon it, I still think that he is most amazing because his day-to-day life leads him to absurd situations. For a living, he travels the globe. He is constantly surrounded by interesting people, most of them celebrities. He plays shows to hundreds of thousands of people, and even does spoken word performances to hundreds of people at a time. Imagine that: having hundreds of people come from far and wide just to sit around and listen to you talk. Damn near every night. And it's totally worth it. But still, Henry has a life like no life I have ever lived, no life my friends have ever lived. I have heard him tell stories of playing on fjords in Finland, open-air stadiums in Brazil, playing at a Russian mob-owned casino, and all sorts of exotic locales. He tells stories about a rivalry with Iggy Pop, or his occasional get togethers with Ozzy Osbourne. I don't know that much of anyone who spends eight hours a day in a cubicle or working retail can tell stories like that. Intense like him? Sure. Stories like him? No. It's watching someone like Rollins that I find fascinating.

So what does someone like me do? I have the occasional mishap on MUNI (kind of like the puddle of Fruit Punch on the seat of the train today that allllllmost blended in enough with the seat for someone to sit in... but it didn't happen) or the interesting observations of assorted characters. Still, I don't have much to draw from. I guess that's why no one is paying me to hang out and tell stories of my day-to-day life. At least not yet they don't.

Long story short: check out Henry Rollins' spoken word. It's awesome. It's inspiring to everyday mooks like myself.

On water skis, hopping over Jaws.


It almost pains me to say this... almost.

Family Guy; I fear you have jumped the shark.

I was more than willing to ride things out with some of last season's episodes, ADD though they may have been. I was willing to look the other way when you tried a few zany contrivances. I chalked them up to ironic usage. I was even willing to forgive the increased instances of your quirky little pop culture references.

But this season, it has all changed. In case you have forgotten, Family Guy, there is this little thing called "plot" and from all of my experiences in studying literature and the like, I hear that it is somewhat important to a narrative. Alas, you have neglected that goofy convention we call plot in the favor of cramming in as many cut-to-scenes as possible in a half hour television program. If I have to hear Peter say "That reminds me of the time..." again, I just might lose it. You see, those little dalliances into absurdist pop culture and eighties nostalgia can only take an effort so far. When there are fifteen minutes devoted to that, and seven or eight minutes of plot, max, there can't be much of a story going on.

Please, Family Guy, for the good of your show, and for all those fans who fought and petitioned so fervently to bring you back from the depths of obscurity, go back to writing stories and throwing a few cut scenes here and there, instead of writing a miniature story to tie together your cut scenes. Take a lesson from the Simpsons (again) and take stock of where you went wrong and address the problem instead of plowing blindly headfirst into the rubbish bin.

If and when you do right the ship, I'll be there waiting for you. Until then, strap on your water skis and look out for hostile creatures under the surface waiting to snap. Which reminds me of the time that I got kicked out of Sea World...

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

A Long Time Ago, in the Roaring '20s Far Far Away

This is amazing. It blends my love of old-timey silent movies and their silly scores with my love for, well, Star Wars. Enjoy.

Monday, November 17, 2008

Rant: Engage.

DISCLAIMER: I am more than a little bitter tonight, and have chosen today's blog as a means of blowing off some steam. If I offend anyone personally, consider yourself warned before continuing. If you choose to read the whole entry, I applaud you and would love for this to turn into a post in which everyone feels free to bash anything that currently gripes them. That is all.


Do you know what gets on my nerves? Hippies. Sorry, Ms. Gatchell, if you're reading this, but you are far cooler than the reaaal dumbass white rasta hippies who sit around and smoke up all day while trying to really "connect with the earth spirit" and find themselves. I mean, come on, no one wants to be this guy. Call me what you want, but when I see groups of hippies hanging around together building a collective stink of a cumulative lack of showering since the Clinton administration, I have trouble keeping it inside.


Generally related, PETA. Sorry, animal crusaders. I respect your plight, I fully support all the nudity you flash around all over the place, hell, I even appreciate some random anti-fur terrorism from time to time. But get creative. Put yourself in your victim's shoes. So what if you throw flour or red paint on them? How would you like it if they answered back by throwing dead minks at you?



Next on my list: rice rockets. See, I live in a part of town that is predominantly Asian. It's cool. I always joke that I was raised Asian because so many of my classmates were. I enjoy diversity and am well aware that there is worlds more than geography that separates Chinese and Japanese. The one main down side of this part of town is that I am constantly having to deal with (generally speaking) Asian males between the ages of sixteen and twenty four who think that they might win a part in the next installment of "The Fast and the Furious". I realize I'm stereotyping, and I am not saying that all Asian males of that age range have them, I'm just saying that the preponderance of drivers who own those cars tend to fit into that classification. Still, it is frustrating when I am trying to fall asleep at the moderate hour of one in the morning, that I have to hear those muffler-less pieces of crap barrel-assing down my driveway and bottoming out on the speed bump that is almost directly outside of my bedroom window.

Finally, one last target for tonight, and that's hipster boys who are far too hipster for their own good. I mean, I have friends who consider me a hipster (though they're a little misguided). My bar tends to be a hipster bar, even. But if you look like you don't have enough body mass to support the giant mass of keys hanging from your caribiner, you have a problem. Here's an idea: drink a beer, give up heroin, trade in your fixie, buy some pants that fit, get a job, and contribute to society for a change. You can't all be baristas the rest of your life. And no, that band was no better when you saw them in someone's garage rather than at a local venue. And no, you're not a better person for having seen them "before they sold out."

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Anyone remember.....

... that thing called "the election"? It's been a whopping nine days, so America has moved on to such important topics as:

- What's wrong with your NFL football team at the midway point of the season

- Jennifer Aniston talking shit about Angelina Jolie on the cover of Vogue.

- That 73 year old dude playing Junior College basketball.

- Some bitch who may or may not have committed suicide near Paula Abdoul's house who was publicly ridiculed on American Idol.

- Teen celebrities who may or may not be virgins.

- What's going to happen during sweeps week.

- And, my favorite, the weather.




Thank heavens we got all that boring "fate of the free world stuff" out of the way, and we can move on to the important issues, like what kind of puppies the Obama kids will be getting.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Help.... it ain't just for Beatles any more.

Oh, it was so good to be back at the coffee shop tonight. I made a fruitless effort on Thursday to return, but much to my dismay, when I arrived there not only was there nowhere to sit, there was some hippie lady singing hippie fuckin' music about how great it is to be respected and empowered or some shit like that. I didn't stick around long enough to really pay attention.

Luckily, tonight was a different story. I walk in, order my coffee, find a seat on the couch, and go about my business. Eventually a female roughly my age comes and sits next to me. I can't help but notice that she is on YouTube. And she is watching some of the craziest videos I've seen.

Now before I continue, I want to make two things absolutely clear:

1) I have nothing in particular against self help stuff. It has helped many people, and I have even read a few, though I can't say the particularly enriched my life. I was just in that "read everything" mode.

2) I don't go to the coffee shop to find people to mock, nor do I make a habit of screen-peeking. I simply stumble across people who happen to do "interesting" things on their computer... two feet from my face.

Now, having said that, I couldn't help but see this. This chick was watching weird videos about stuff like (I swear, I couldn't make these up if I tried) "Universe Power," "Astonishing Power of Emotions," and "Reading Your Feelings." This was fascinating enough in and of itself. Then, all of a sudden, she gets into the relationship ones, and these ones are the ones that my bitter, cynical, black hearted self just rip to shreds. "Tips on How To Make Him Like You" or "Seven Things Women Do Wrong During Lovemaking That Turn Men Off" Or a personal favorite "Ten Things All Cheating Men Say." I understand the need for these videos, but most were just glorified PowerPoint presentations, but do you really think you're going to find someone out there if you go out in public to watch videos like "Three Reasons Why Men Will Not Call" you might not necessarily have the best approach. I'm not saying I know much of anything about picking up folks randomly or anything like that, and my track record will certainly speak to that effect, but still, it just seems a little sad to me. Plus, while I realize men are patently stupid, universal cure-alls like that really just cloud women's heads with thoughts and signals that aren't really applicable. I could go on and on about the whole "reading into things" and rampant speculation that goes on with the fairer sex, but I am growing a tad weary and I'll just end up sounding spiteful.

Friday, November 7, 2008

The Bar: A Retrospective

At lunch today, I sat relatively idly by and listened to a handful of co-workers talk about their perceptions of going out to the bar. To be very short, they were all of the opinion that going to the bar was a waste of time, and they'd all either prefer to stay in or spend time with friends at places not full of alcohol and noise. While I am a proponent of spending quality time with friends outside of taverns, I am also a huge proponent of spending quality time with my friend, the tavern. Granted, my perceptions of going out to the bar have altered with time, but I still get fired up at the prospect of spending a night at the bar.

So how did this come to be? Simple. There is one way to make bar-going much less about the "getting dolled up and going somewhere for overpriced drinks," and that is finding a bar or two that you like and making it (or them) your bar. Once you have found your bar (or bars) you have a safe haven to go for nights out. You learn the flow of the crowd, you learn the music setup, you make friends with the bartenders and the regulars, and before you know it you're like me: I can walk into either of my bars and there will be a drink waiting for me by the time I make it from the door to the bar itself. That and when the bartender comps you drinks are the two signs when the bar has made you one of its own. It helps if you're consistent, too, so the bartender knows who you are and what you drink at first. I have known a handful of bartenders who know people strictly by drink, but eventually learn their name, especially if they order something out of the ordinary.

The other issue of major importance of bar going is to be realistic: if you go to the bar consistently with the hopes of finding someone you'll care about and enter into a meaningful relationship, you might be mildly deluded. There's always a chance of something good happening, but that chance becomes slim to none if you are actively seeking it. Hook ups? Sure. Dating? Generally not. If you're just out to have fun, to enjoy the company of interesting individuals, to maybe enter into some good natured alcohol-fueled hijinx, you will almost always find that at a bar.

So, good barflies like myself, I salute you. Thank you for making my nights out, fewer though they may be these days, a lot more fun and interesting than my nights in or my nights at the coffee shop. I am already looking forward to Saturday night and my usual regimen of craziness.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

Television is the Devil.


For those of you that know me, you remember that I have spent the last ten years or so with an ancient TV in my abode. It was a big ol' console TV with a remote that was probably about three cubic feet in size.

During the grand overhaul of my little hermitage, I inherited the TV that my folks were ditching in favor of their new flat screen. I also inherited cable TV for the first time in my life. So for the last couple of months, I find myself staring at the idiot box a lot more than I used to. What's worse, I think I'm starting to feel the ill effects of watching TV. I feel mentally sluggish. I have been neglecting my thesis more than I should. God help me if I ever get real cable -- I am feeling my brain softening, and I only have like twenty channels.

I think the other issue is a lack of quality time being spent at the coffee shop. It's one of those byproducts of work life: I come home tired, try to get to bed at a slightly earlier hour, and don't always have the gumption to make the drive out there. Hell, I have taken into packing it in and circling the wagons early, rather than taking advantage of a little caffeine buzz later in the evening.

I think all I really have to do is write a bunch of post-its or tattoo the back of my hand with the words "Are you sure you want to do that?" It's time to batten down the hatches and re-gain some of that momentum I had like a month ago or so. Television be damned! Who's with me?

Monday, November 3, 2008

I'm not going to say it.


It's the eve of the election, and I know as well as you do that we are currently witnessing history in the making. I look forward to the prospect of standing in line to cast my vote instead of the usual routine of walking to my local polling place and seeing a room empty except for the staffers and maybe a neighbor or two.

But enough about that. I want to fill your heads with random questions having nothing to do with our modern political climate.

- Why do we just call the letter Z "zee" why can't we call it "zed" like the British?

- When will grunge come back into vogue? I don't know that flannel will make a revival, but can the music at least gain a little footing again?

- Does anyone else find it hilarious that hipsterclub.com is actually a networking site for people who have had total hip replacement surgery (or are about to)?

- Polaroid or Diana cameras: which is the ultimate hipster point-and-shoot?

- If you had an RPG game of your life, who would the final boss be?

- Has anyone out there ever had a Craigslist Missed Connection written about them? I know it has to happen out there somewhere, and I've seen some authors of posts on the bus and whatnot, but I don't think I personally know anyone who has had one written about them.

- Facial piercings: passe or still cool?

Arright, it's getting late. I am keeping my fingers crossed until this time tomorrow.

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Electric and Eclectic.

As some of you who know me are aware, I've been playing a lot of music lately. I maintain two bands on the regular, and lately I've been filling in as the bassist of a third band as they seek out an official replacement for the place which I am currently holding. I enjoy playing music more than nearly anything. But recently I have been all across the board in what I am doing musically these days. As some of you may remember, I came close to putting together an indie band back in mid-summer, but that kind of fell apart, which in hindsight is really for the best. I have been playing with this new band and it's been a blast, and I finally got to play with a keyboardist after all these years.

But now I find myself at an interesting impasse: chances are I will probably have to take a month or so off from musical pursuits while I finish my thesis or else it will never get done. Still, that should presumably wrap up no later than the end of January, which will then leave me with something I've basically never had before: a regular schedule and routine to my life with a reasonable amount of spare time. I won't have papers hanging over my head, for the most part when I come home from work, my work day will be done, and I can do almost anything I want. While most people think this may be a dream come true, it's kind of a nightmare realized for me. See, free time = way too much time to be inside my head.

So I'm thinking I might want to see what I can learn about keyboards and electric-type music. No, I'm not going to start manufacturing beats out of my garage or do anything that might label me as an "MC" but I think it could be a very interesting experiment into my musical mind. I have thought about it from time to time, especially when I listen to bands like Ratatat who do that whole guitar/electro thing amazingly well, but even post-rock and shoegaze bands are starting to incorporate interesting digital stuff into their music. I suppose the topper was tonight when I exposed the other Lava Rats to the "band" Why? and Rodd said before the first song "See, this is the kind of stuff you should be doing, this is right up your alley." What exactly he meant, I can't be sure, but it certainly caught me a bit off guard, because up to this point not much outside the realm of punk, jazz, or surf has really been "up my alley" as far as guitar playing is concerned. It'll be really interesting to see how the type of stuff I've been playing over the last ten years will influence what I do in the next couple of years.

Who knows, maybe next week I'll be on a completely different page, but at the moment, I think that would be a fun skill to learn that would make me that much more musically alluring, though I need to figure out how to make that happen without spending money....

Monday, October 27, 2008

Undead?


So, as I mentioned the other day, I've been reading World War Z and I finished it this evening. It was a compelling read, and I'm sure I'll be lending it out to friends for months to come. My reading this book comes at an interesting time: with the exception of playing a lot of music with various folks and the occasional night out at the bar, I lead a generally boring life. While I spent the last few years drifting along as the wind took me, I would get into interesting situations, and it seemed I always had a story to tell. Chances are this is because I always had time on my hands, which also the reason I had no money in my pockets. Still, now that I'm gainfully employed, outside of the occasional MUNI fiasco or some external stimulus, I don't really get into a lot of different situations. Have I been bitten by the zombie we call a career?

Either way, I'd much rather not dwell on that, I just thought it was a side note with a hypothetical question worth asking. Still, there was one other point I wanted to make this evening, and it relates more directly to zombie culture. Not like "oh, I don't live a fulfilling life, I'm a zombie." Rather, this has much more to do with the honest-to-goodness "I eat brains and lose limbs without detriment" kind of zombie life. I would consider myself somewhat of a zombie movie/book fan. I find there are a lot of interesting things to do with the scenario, and it leaves a lot of space for artistic interpretation. But there's one common thread that has been emerging in a lot of zombie tales that rubs me the wrong way, and that's the reliance on the "horrible tragedy brings out the best and the worst in people" scenario. There are only so many tales that can end in the "good" people winning out in the end and being freed of their burden, yet living with the painful memory of what happened. There's the constant "we'll always remember what happened here" message whether it be an isolated incident of a zombie or two wreaking havoc, or if it's a whole horde of the undead teeming across the continent.

My message to writers/creators of zombie stories: I know you want to make people think, I know you want to get some greater message across, but from time to time remember one thing: you tell zombie stories. You're not writing the great American novel... you're writing the great American zombie novel. You have a better chance at winning an MTV Movie award or Teen Choice award than actually winning an Oscar. There is nothing wrong with writing a zombie movie or book that just has mad and crazy legions of the undead eating the shit out of people just for the hell of it, and then continuing the pattern. People don't watch zombie movies for social criticism, they watch zombie movies to see people get FUCKED UP. Just remember; never have more of a greater message than entrails, and you'll be just fine.



PS - And yes, that is zombie Bill, just for the record.

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

I'm proud.

Clever comic folk aren't the only ones who can put hilarious captions in their photos. I did this one all myself. Not while at work.....

Guilt trip.

Borrowed from R. Stevens of Diesel Sweeties fame, it sums me up almost as well as WitchDog or the Baby Chimp...

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Put yo' weight on it.


RIP Dolemite. Guess you won't be puttin yo' weight on it anymore...

Read all about his legacy here.

Sunday, October 19, 2008

What it's all about.


I have had this feeling far before I saw or read "Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist" but I'll expand on it a bit here for public consumption: There is little greater in the world than holding hands with someone you care about. It is hands-down the one minor form of a PDA that I find endearing. Granted, I can't take it when people nuzzle up all close with each other and examine their hands together for hours on end as if they were the first people to ever think of interlocking their fingers with each other.

There is one particular instance that I find especially endearing, and that is when old people hold hands. I'm not talking old like me and my "not as young as I used to be" self, I'm not even talking fifties or sixties. I'm talking about seventy-plus, the old people who hold hands because it's all they know, the people who hold hands because that's what they've been doing since it was still a novel concept in its time. Back in the day, when hand holding was officially second base. It's incredibly endearing, even moreso than like when little kids hold hands. It melts my friggin' heart, and I believe that's a main contributor of why folks pass away shortly after their partners; because they don't have that hand to hold.

Trust me, this blog was just inspired by seeing just such an occasion on the street the other day. I am not going to turn this into a paean on how I have no one to hold my hand. I am also not going to gush about how I found someone who actually wants to hold my hand, because I haven't. Hell, I am not much of a hand holder in the first place - I am so warm blooded that things just turn into a clammy mess. I far prefer linking pinkies. But not in the dirty way.

Friday, October 17, 2008

A Calling?


I had what I felt was a very interesting exchange with my mom over dinner this evening. I'd discussed my day at work, and seemingly out of the blue, my mom piped up with "You know, never in a million years would I have thought that you'd be working in an office."

On one hand, this makes perfect sense: ever since I was about seventeen or so, I'd pretty much been groomed to be a teacher. I took interest in my schooling - I hung on to extra copies of my high school textbooks, not because I had to but because I chose to. I had been told by friends, family, teachers, and administrators alike that I'd be a great teacher. I got out of college, got out of the credential program, and got into the classroom. I'd like to think that I was a pretty good teacher in my own right. I'd never be in the running for teacher of the year based on my track record, but I was able to walk away knowing that I helped a number of the kids with whom I worked.

So now I sit in a cubicle. I get to comparison shop and examine products in a fun office, surrounded by co-workers whom I hold in high esteem. I get to listen to music all day and chew gum whenever the hell I want to, all while wearing jeans and a t-shirt. I'm going to say - I like my job. I don't love it, I don't necessarily see myself being a the same company the rest of my life, but I don't think much of anyone there expects that to be the case. Still, I am happy with where I am and what I'm doing, and I'm excited at the possibilities of what the future holds for me with my current employer.

Still, I can't help but think: what did my Mom mean by that? Is it really so crazy that I would enjoy cube life? I have no idea what else I would/could be doing these days. Thoughts? Takers? What else is there out there that's not retail and not in a classroom that doesn't involve some manner of office work?

Sorry to be a bit maudlin in my posting tonight, but maudlin has kind of been the theme of the week for me. On the bright side, the weekend is just a stone's throw away.

Monday, October 13, 2008

The Good Old Days of Music.


As this blog has proven over the last week or two, I have been thinking a lot about music and musical tastes recently. I've been in a bit of a renaissance period in my musical listening, so in a given day I am exposed to any number of thousands of different artists across a wide span of genres. Generally speaking, this is a good thing. I pride myself in my ability to appreciate all sorts of musical expression, but this was not always the case. I first began to hone my musical tastes back in the mid-90s, when the battle lines were clearly drawn. I suppose to some degree, those lines are far more distinct when you are younger, as even these days back when I was a substitute teacher I'd have kids say things to me like "So what are you Mr. B? Are you a rocker? I bet you are."

Back in the day, that's how it was: you were on one side of the fence or the other. When I was a sophomore in high school, if anything came on a stereo with anything resembling "beat" I'd bitch and moan and gripe until someone finally changed it. If something had too many acoustic instruments or didn't have a fast enough tempo, I'd usually write it off as boring. If bands had more than two guitars, bass, and drums, I often quipped that "they should go back to art school until they learn how to rock." So, in short, I was kind of a prick. Still, I think this polarizing criticism was truly in vogue at the time. The fact that I was willing to stand up at the age of sixteen and say that Art Alexakis of Everclear stopped writing good music after he kicked his heroin habit shows that there was intelligent thought behind that, since I still believe it to this day. Granted, for the man, I am ecstatic that he was able to get clean and is now living a fulfilling life. But it might be time to put the guitar down.

So what changed? How did we get to this point? I am almost ashamed to say this, but I think a big turning point in music as far as acceptance and open-mindedness was the dawning of Limp Bizkit. They were the first band to really do the rap/rock thing well. Yes, by the second album we found out that their munchkin lead singer was a total douche, but that first album opened the floodgates. Suddenly, pulling out that copy of "The Chronic" that my friend left at my house back in 8th grade isn't so bad after all. There was a brief period there where everyone who played guitar wanted to team up with someone who knew how to scratch to make something new and innovative. Fortunately, that has all fallen by the wayside these days as well, except for perhaps Linkin Park, who still remain on the fringes of popular music.

Then there's the whole emergence of Indie, which happened some time shortly after the label "alternative" became as popular as calling something "radical". Nowadays, you can't swing a Pavement record without finding some kid in girls skinny jeans and a tattered hoodie. It's great, it's in part a side product of the musical "progression/regression" trend, but still, it's interesting to watch. What started with punk, evolved slightly into grunge and alternative has now led to a number of bands with strings and interesting keyboard samples. A music that had been identified with minimal virtuoso talent on an instrument being pressed for the few, in response to the over-technical, over-produced music of the mainstream, has now come into the spotlight again, except this time with a lot more talent. And a lot more facial hair.

Do I miss the good old days when I wore flannel, and the guys who listened to rap wore their pants around their knees? Sometimes. But, now that we're all knocking on the door of our thirties, I'm glad I can wear clothes that fit (for the most part, at least), and don't feel like a wuss or a sellout because I enjoy going to shows where people sing melodies with intelligent music that sounds better in a small room than blaring in a locker room or something to that effect. I still loves me a good pit every now and again, but I appreciate it just as much when I can see a band like Spoon (I use them because they're one of the last bands I saw live) and just hang out and listen to some great music that neither makes me want to kill myself nor throw myself violently into those around me.
Guess that makes me a sellout. Or at least a person that "high school me" would call a sellout.

Weekend musings.

As most of my San Franciscan readers should know, this weekend was the culmination of LitQuake, and Saturday evening the Mission was taken over by Lit Crawl - a district-wide evening of readings in bars, coffee shops, bookstores, and a handful of other assorted venues. Naturally, I took advantage of the experience to check out a few of the select readings.

One thing I took out of this experience was a rekindled desire to do some creative writing. I know that this happens nearly every time I go to some literary event, but I can't help it. True, for the time being I need to focus on my thesis more, but still, if time allows, I'd like to do a little writing. I'm not just writing this to express my inner conundrum or anything like that; rather, I'm setting up the question:

Do you think it's indulgent for a blogger (more specifically, me) to post creative works on a blog that isn't literature or fiction based?

I'd be interested in your feedback, but make no promises that I'll end up doing it even if you all are into the idea.

Thursday, October 9, 2008

Underpants.


For work today, I had to write up a quick blog on FreshPair.com, which is an online underwear store. I was generally impressed with the variety of what they had, though I was more than a little off-put by the large number of bulges that I was subjected to.

Before getting into it here, let me discuss my underpants philosophy: maybe twice a year or so I'll wander into an Old Navy, find designs that strike my fancy (usually involving guitars, booze, or the occasional plaid) and I'll buy like six pairs to last me until I need another pair. I spend maaaaybe five minutes a year thinking about underpants, so what was I supposed to say about all these pairs I saw on a blog read by conservative Midwestern housewives?

While I couldn't ask it on the company's blog, I can ask it here: does anyone still wear tighty whities? It seems to me that they are worn by every kid once they graduate from superhero undies until about high school, then boxers come in up until the point of about 35 or so. Am I completely off on this? Is there a whole tighty whitey insurgency out there that I am unaware of? Because I gotta say, this site was ALL about briefs. Some much more brief than others. How disturbing is it that they now make low-rise men's underwear? Just the thought makes me wanna vomit. I guess those he-men out there who pride themselves on having abs you can grate cheese on all need underpants that will stay out of their way when showing off their toned and sculpted bodies. I prefer my whole waistline just be ignored altogether. Hence no time thinking about underpants. Just another question while I'm already queasy: what's with the banana hammock? I don't get it. I don't think any woman finds it the least bit attractive. I don't care how much tail you get, there's no excuse for any man to wear undergarments that consists of less cloth and provide less coverage than their female counterparts.

So with all this in mind, and after having someone request that I spend a part of my day perusing underthings, I began thinking about male versus female underthings. I think it all has something to do with visibility. Men, though thankfully less than like 8 years ago, still tend to flaunt their underpants in public far too much. I don't know why this is because men's underpants is all about function. There is no beauty in men's underpants. Outside of art, there is no adornment. Speaking as a male, I am happy about this. Women's underwear, however, is almost the opposite. From the male point of view (at least from most males' point of view) the less actual underwear and the less coverage it supplies, the better. I'm not being a perv, I'm just giving it to you straight here. For this reason, a glimpse of female underwear is usually kind of a thrill. Properly chosen and properly worn, underpants choice can speak volumes about a woman. This is why countless women eschew the "granny" variety of all undergarments for things that have lace and are either black or red despite their general deficits in comfort. At least that's my theory.

Think of it this way: most women don't start to salivate at the sight of a man unbuttoning his pants and revealing some boxer. If a woman does the same action and reveals some black undergarment, regardless of ornamentation or material, 99% of men with feel a noticeable pickup in their pulse rate.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Best. Invention. Ever.


So I was hipped to this by a handful of various people today, though none directly, which is a little reassuring. Apparently Google has created a mail app that is a drinker's best friend. Read all about it here. Essentially, it's a filter that causes you to do some reasonably challenging math in a limited time to make sure that you are functioning at your best. I don't necessarily e-mail whilst intoxicated, but if I do, it's good to know that now I'm protected.

Not a whole lot else to note, other than that Jon has finally revived his blog, which can be seen at the top of my links list.

Finally, on a third tangent, I've started reading the book The Secret history of the American Empire. From the author of Confessions of an Economic Hit Man, it's an eye-opening read about how blatantly the US and the corporations behind it are exploiting foreign countries. While I try my best to be fairly in the know about the modern world, I have to admit: this book is kind of bumming me out. I know that it's not supposed to be an uplifting read or anything like that, but when I'm standing on the bus, half asleep and surrounded by weirdos, I prefer to read stuff that doesn't make feel like no matter what I do, nothing will ever change. At least give me compelling stories with superheroes or something.

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

As much as I'd like to.

I have little to say. Here is the Readers Digest version of my life right now:

- It is whiskey week, but I cannot take advantage of this unless I go to a bar, as my supply of the brownest of the brown liquors is nowhere to be found in casa de Bill.

- I may be playing keyboards in The Undertaker and His Pals. The only snag: I don't know how to play keyboards.

- Amy Winehouse, after admitting she "has a problem" has reportedly been considering scientology. I have to ask, does "problem" refer to scientology or her relentless pursuit of an early death?

- Everyone around me is talking about either the election or the economic crisis. I continue not to give a shit.

- Preparations for Chapter 2 of my thesis continue.

- I am beginning to think that in order to be a temp worker hired at my current place of employment, you have to be borderline mute. I have had two temps sit a few cubes away from me, and I have yet to get so much as a "good morning" from either of them in nearly three months.

- I'm thinking of putting together a class action lawsuit against MUNI on behalf of all SF commuters, as they are consistently stealing hours of our lives a week with their joke of a "schedule".

I think I'd better turn in before I get any more bitter. Tonight, you spell cynic B-I-L-L.