Monday, August 28, 2006
Current Favorites
Monsieur Castro is busy installing his new refridgerator, but he sends his regards, and a vote of making fun of me for the amount of Jane Austin movies I've seen recently...I'm way behind on movies I suppose. I've seen quite a few lately, but I haven't talked about them. As far as music is concerned, I'm in a new music discovery drought. To be honest, the last new album I've listened to in its entirety is Jason Collet's Idols of Exiles. I think that was released in February. Yikes! My year end list is looking pretty parched right now...
But these things are just encumbering my enthusiasm...and that's worse than anything...so I'm breaking out with a current favorites.
Music
Like I said, it's a desert right now. What have I been listening to? Erm...this and that. Most of it is Neutral Milk Hotel or Broken Social Scene. Oh, and the Beastie Boys kick is still in full effect. But I did get on the internet long enough to download a couple tracks by Oakley Hall. They can be found here. The highlight there is "All the Way Down", which has one of those irresistable riffs that always gets me. The other songs are above average.
One advantage of not being able to listen to new music very often is that it allows a little more digging in my library. One horrible victim of neglect has been Outkast, but that's being rectified a little. If you have't done it in awhile, dig out Aquemini. Listen to "Return of tha G", get that head bobbing then wrap yourself around "Spottiottiedogalicious". I had sort of forgotten how brilliant that whole album is.
Also on the headbobbing front, I've been groovin' DJ Shadows Preemptive Strike. The beat on "Organ Donor" just blows me away. It's ridiculous.
And finally, a headbobbing rennaissance would not be complete without a mention of Tricky's Maxinquaye. Many a neck has been sprained listening to "Hell is Round the Corner". Count your humble narrator lucky, as he has no insurance if he grooves too hard...
Movies
Too many movies to list here right now...but I'll give some of the hightlights:
The Devil Wears Prada: I've been seeing a lot of chick movies lately, perhaps my punishment for a over a month of almost non-stop baseball in May and June...but this one was quite enjoyable. To be honest, I'm not a huge Anne Hathaway fan, maybe it's her voice...I don't know. It's not like she's a bad actress, just something about her would make me think twice about seeing a movie she's headlining. And this makes me feel guilty, because there's absolutely no reason for this, which in a way makes me like her a little less. It's a vicious cycle...but the movie's sharp writing, good pace, and typically good performance from Meryl Streep makes it quite enjoyable. Even for you fellas. 7/10
My Super Ex-Girlfriend: I had absolutely no interest in seeing this, but one, it cost a dollar, and two, Ann really wanted to see it. So, we went and saw it and it was thoroughly okay. Enough laugh out loud moments to keep it interesting, but something was lacking. I can't put my finger on what was wrong, maybe the whole premise was a bit flawed. I also spent a good deal of the movie feeling really bad for Uma Thurman's character. 6/10
A Prairie Home Companion: I grew up listening to A Prairie Home Companion, and ever so often I like to go to the website and listen to a few "Tales From Lake Wobegone". The movie was immensely satisfying for any fan of the show. And Ann, who's only heard the show once liked it quite a bit. The scenes of the actual show are fantastic, and it was cool to see running characters from the show like Guy Noir and Dusty and Lefty brought to life. The movie also maintained the show's mix of dry and silly humor. Recommended if you for some unknown reason miss cold, upper midwestern winters...8/10
Sense & Sensibility: When we started making our Netflix queue, Ann requested some sort of Jane Austin movie with Hugh Grant. I was pretty sure this fit the bill. It had everything I often like in a movie...slow development, Hugh Grant, British accents (I wish I was joking...Fidel is laughing his ass off right now). Now, I didn't like this movie as much as Ann, but it ended up being quite enjoyable. Now if it had involved a duel, it would have been a 9/10, but as it stands, it's simply a 7/10.
I think that's quite enough for now...
Books
As for the literature, I've been reading more lately, but the book I chose to read is over 400 pages long. But I did finish The Naked Olympics by Tony Perrottet which I mentioned earlier. As far as history books go, it was incredibly readable, Perrottet is a pretty good writer. I actually would have liked it if it wasn't as short and a bit more in depth. But then it might have become a bit tedious. Overall, a good overview of the ancient Olympics...7/10
Coming hopefully soon is Life on the Mississippi by Mark Twain. It's looking to get a good rating so far. Short chapters, witty writing, the Mississippi River...it's like this book was designed specifically for me...
Ta for now!
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Mucho Media
In the midst of paging through a magazine simply because Beck was sitting on the cover (oddly enough, it was "Wired"), I found a little article about Pitchfork. It said something along the lines that while its actual readership is quite small, its influence as a tastemaker is quite high. Now, nothing about that seemed terribly revolutionary...in fact, all in all it seemed like a pretty crappy article.
But then something hit me...Pitchfork's readership is actually quite low. Wired did not include any actual statistics (part of the problem making it a shitty article overall). Now, how can something be a tastemaker with no real readers? Wouldn't this have been something Wired might have wanted to tackle (the answer is heavens no!). So I will do it for them...
There's a couple things at work here. One is that Pitchfork's role as tastemaker is more niche oriented. One of my professors, during the 2002 election when asked who would win the Minnesota Senate race, between Norm Coleman and Walter Mondale (who had replaced the sadly deceased Paul Wellstone) replied "Walter Mondale, no doubt." He was wrong, because he'd gotten all of his feeling for political sentiments in one spot. He said he'd been spending too much time on Huff Street (where the University, some coffee shops and your humble ZT resided) and not enough time on Mankato Avenue (where you can find a Wal-Mart, dilapitaded liquor stores and townie bars). There's a tendancy to think that things that affect your group of friends effects others more than they do. The fact is most people just listen to music on the radio. More people like Mariah Carrey than like Art Brut and the next Britney Spears album will outsell the next Broken Social Scene album...no matter what Pitchfork says.
Another factor that is exaggerating the effect of Pitchfork is that there's so many outlets just to talk about it. Think about it, hundreds of blogs to give an outlet for people to say "Pitchfork said this" and then everyone can bitch and moan about it. But that's not the whole story. There is no greater amplifier for media than other media. The Wired article was basicly media talking about media. This amplifies Pitchfork's name (if not it's impact). There's just so much media out there, that somewhere along the line, Pitchfork's going to get mentioned, and it will just build and build. It's like a million little speakers making little bits of noise. Eventually it's just going to get ridiculously loud.
However, Pitchfork has a lot of impact among people who are into music. And the effect goes beyond people who read it. I read Pitchfork on most days, but I don't personally know anyone else that does. However, I've discovered music through the sight. And one that has caught on with people who don't read Pitchfork among my friends is The Hold Steady. I never would have heard of them without Pitchfork probably...and none of my friends would have heard of them without me reading Pitchfork. And I'm sure this is what happens with all those little phenomenons that rise out of a good review.
Wired, if your looking for someone to make your articles actually informative...well, email me at ZTKrogman@gmail.com
But then something hit me...Pitchfork's readership is actually quite low. Wired did not include any actual statistics (part of the problem making it a shitty article overall). Now, how can something be a tastemaker with no real readers? Wouldn't this have been something Wired might have wanted to tackle (the answer is heavens no!). So I will do it for them...
There's a couple things at work here. One is that Pitchfork's role as tastemaker is more niche oriented. One of my professors, during the 2002 election when asked who would win the Minnesota Senate race, between Norm Coleman and Walter Mondale (who had replaced the sadly deceased Paul Wellstone) replied "Walter Mondale, no doubt." He was wrong, because he'd gotten all of his feeling for political sentiments in one spot. He said he'd been spending too much time on Huff Street (where the University, some coffee shops and your humble ZT resided) and not enough time on Mankato Avenue (where you can find a Wal-Mart, dilapitaded liquor stores and townie bars). There's a tendancy to think that things that affect your group of friends effects others more than they do. The fact is most people just listen to music on the radio. More people like Mariah Carrey than like Art Brut and the next Britney Spears album will outsell the next Broken Social Scene album...no matter what Pitchfork says.
Another factor that is exaggerating the effect of Pitchfork is that there's so many outlets just to talk about it. Think about it, hundreds of blogs to give an outlet for people to say "Pitchfork said this" and then everyone can bitch and moan about it. But that's not the whole story. There is no greater amplifier for media than other media. The Wired article was basicly media talking about media. This amplifies Pitchfork's name (if not it's impact). There's just so much media out there, that somewhere along the line, Pitchfork's going to get mentioned, and it will just build and build. It's like a million little speakers making little bits of noise. Eventually it's just going to get ridiculously loud.
However, Pitchfork has a lot of impact among people who are into music. And the effect goes beyond people who read it. I read Pitchfork on most days, but I don't personally know anyone else that does. However, I've discovered music through the sight. And one that has caught on with people who don't read Pitchfork among my friends is The Hold Steady. I never would have heard of them without Pitchfork probably...and none of my friends would have heard of them without me reading Pitchfork. And I'm sure this is what happens with all those little phenomenons that rise out of a good review.
Wired, if your looking for someone to make your articles actually informative...well, email me at ZTKrogman@gmail.com
Monday, August 21, 2006
The Krogman 25
Oh my, it's been awhile, but I think it's time to get back into the old routine...so without further ado...
1) Positive Jam - The Hold Steady (42 plays)
2) Jesus, ect. - Wilco (42 plays)
3) Sister Jack - Spoon (41 plays)
4) Anthems For a Seventeen Year-Old Girl - Broken Social Scene (39 plays)
5) The Swish - The Hold Steady (38 plays)
6) Multitude of Casualties - The Hold Steady (38 plays)
7) Looks Just Like the Sun - Broken Social Scene (37 plays)
8) Certain Songs - The Hold Steady (36 plays)
9) Cattle and the Creeping Things - The Hold Steady (36 plays)
10) My Mathematical Mind - Spoon (36 plays)
11) Fit But You Know It - The Streets (34 plays)
12) Shine a Light - Wolf Parade (34 plays)
13) I'll Believe In Anything - Wolf Parade (34 plays)
14) Shampoo Suicide - Broken Social Scene (33 plays)
15) Crazy - Gnarls Barkley (33 plays)
16) Ashes of American Flags (33 plays)
17) Cause = Time - Broken Social Scene (32 plays)
18) Barfruit Blues - The Hold Steady (32 plays)
19) The Way We Get By - Spoon (32 plays)
20) It Was Supposed to Be So Easy - The Streets (32 plays)
21) Heavy Metal Drummer - Wilco (32 plays)
22) Outlaw Blues - Bob Dylan (31 plays)
23) Casimir Pulaski Day - Sufjan Stevens (31 plays)
24) Poor Places - Wilco (31 plays)
25) Paper Thin Walls - Modest Mouse (29 plays)
Sufjan, Le Film de Rien...ect.
This morning, I was listening to Sufjan Stevens' "Romulus" and it made me think of this one guy I had in my French class sophomore year of high school. He was an interesting guy, but I can't for the life of me remember his name. He lived with his mom, who moved around the country a lot. He didn't even finish the year at Stevens Point, leaving somewhere around March. One of the nicest people I've ever met, a real asset to our somewhat tightknit French class. Plus, like me, he wasn't terribly good at French. Anyways, one assignment we had was to make a film in French.
What became of this project, Le Film de Rien (The Film of Nothing) was one of those projects I'm still pretty proud of. It included a motley cast of characters, my friend Josh played Chris Farley, I played the man who lived under the tree house who was perpetually late on rent, my friend Jeremiah as a sort of evil violinist, and the guy who's name I can't remember living in the dilapidated tree house. It made no sense, contained a minimum of actual dialouge (as only Josh was any good at French), and in the end was probably the best film I've ever made (ranking it ahead of maybe 4 or 5 others).
But now I'm caught thinking of this guy who's name I can't remember. I want to say Nick...but that doesn't sound right. Why that song made me think of him, I don't know. Really, all I want now is to watch Le Film de Rien again. I don't have a copy...I believe Josh has it. This also makes me want to get into contact with him. Last time we spoke he was getting married and working for a newspaper. Curse you Sufjan...curse you...
What became of this project, Le Film de Rien (The Film of Nothing) was one of those projects I'm still pretty proud of. It included a motley cast of characters, my friend Josh played Chris Farley, I played the man who lived under the tree house who was perpetually late on rent, my friend Jeremiah as a sort of evil violinist, and the guy who's name I can't remember living in the dilapidated tree house. It made no sense, contained a minimum of actual dialouge (as only Josh was any good at French), and in the end was probably the best film I've ever made (ranking it ahead of maybe 4 or 5 others).
But now I'm caught thinking of this guy who's name I can't remember. I want to say Nick...but that doesn't sound right. Why that song made me think of him, I don't know. Really, all I want now is to watch Le Film de Rien again. I don't have a copy...I believe Josh has it. This also makes me want to get into contact with him. Last time we spoke he was getting married and working for a newspaper. Curse you Sufjan...curse you...
Sunday, August 20, 2006
Down With the Beta
Well, I'm now using the Blogger Beta version or whatever it's called, so now I'm spending time trying to spruce the place up a bit. So bear with me while I make some changes...some good, some bad I suppose. It'll be a better place than I left it, I promise!
Saturday, August 19, 2006
New Hold Steady!
Well, the new album is for some reason or other being kept from my grasp until October 3, but the first single is being given out for free on Pitchfork right here. It's called "Chips Ahoy!" So download it, enjoy it...and try to find a line with the same panache of "Silly rabit, tripping is for teenagers, murder is for murderers and hard drugs are for bartenders...think I might have mentioned that before." Has it been discovered yet by moi? No, but then again, I've only listened to it once...expect that to be rectified...now...
Hmm, it appears the song is named after a horse...and Mr. Finn seems to have found himself a girl who can pick a winner, but seems a bit gloomy. And I can relate...everyone needs a flamboyent gambler in their life. I would list this as my biggest obstacle in achieving everything I want out of life.
Hmm, it appears the song is named after a horse...and Mr. Finn seems to have found himself a girl who can pick a winner, but seems a bit gloomy. And I can relate...everyone needs a flamboyent gambler in their life. I would list this as my biggest obstacle in achieving everything I want out of life.
Friday, August 18, 2006
Beatles-Bob Dylan and Red Sox-Brewers
This past week, Pitchfork did a feature on their Top 200 songs of the 1960s (top 20 can be found here). I always approach these things sort of competatively, hoping my favorites fare better than others. This, I imagine, is how many people read these things, given the vitriol that they can produce. Anyways, I'm still a bit giddy over the fact that Bob Dylan's "Like a Rolling Stone" came in at #4, scoring higher than the highest Beatles song ("A Day in the Life" at #5). Sure, the Beatles probably did better overall, but the fact remains that the list says that the best Dylan song is better than the best Beatles song, even if it's only by one spot.
This is not to say I hate the Beatles. I love the Beatles. But Bob Dylan will always be greater in my mind. Of course, now that I have "Like a Rolling Stone" on repeat, I'm trying to wrap my head around why. And the answer, I think, has to do with another sort of vying for my affections type conflict in my life. That's the fact that I care about two baseball teams, the Boston Red Sox and the Milwaukee Brewers.
There's a part of me that feels a bit guilty about loving two baseball teams. Bill Simmons, columnist for ESPN.com wrote that there's nothing worse than being a sports polygamist. There's a bit of romance in living and dying with one team. It works for me in football, the only team I could ever care about is the Packers, to the point that I find watching non-Packer football games exceedingly boring. But I've been driven to sports polygamy in baseball by a couple factors...growing up with the Brewers, I endured a streak of ten years without a winning season. I've never seen them play a meaningful game aside from the 1992 season (when I was nine). Which is fine when your young and all you really care about is seeing grown men play baseball. But eventually I became hungry for more. I saw the fever of October baseball and I wanted it. The need became even more acute when I experienced the Packer's Super Bowl victory. I wanted that feeling while watching the sport I truly cared about.
I'd flirted with other teams before. Those Oakland A's teams of my early baseball loving days had me a bit. However, my first experience at an actual live baseball game was Brewers-A's game at old County Stadium (chosen partially because of my partiality towards Oakland). But when my dad asked me who I'd cheer for, I increduously replied, "The Brewers!" I couldn't abandon the team of Robin Yount, Paul Molitor, and Jim Gantner.
But then the Brewers sunk into a morass of suckitude...they parted ways with Molitor with the words, "He's just a DH now". Molitor was my favorite Brewer. I have a uber-cute picture of my sister and I with him. My sister once walked underneath a baricade (without ducking) and pulled on his shirt saying, "Mr. Molitor?" looking as cute as possible holding up various articles to be autographed. I'd challenge any ego-maniac superstar to charge for that autograph. So watching him hit a home run in the World Series for the Blue Jays made me sick inside. The words "Just a DH" became words of scorn on my lips. I still think the words Sal Bando (the GM who said that) and "fuck you" at the same time. I don't know if Bando is still working in baseball, but if he is, I hope it's in Single A ball. After Yount retired, I had trouble liking the Brewers.
So there was room in my heart for someone else. Somehow the Red Sox filled that void. Don't ask me how, it just did. Part of it was a fascination with the city of Boston. Part of it was the story. Over the years, they got some likable players like Nomar Garciaparra and Pedro Martinez. They had Fenway. Plus they were contenders at least once a decade. I think guilt at abandoning the Brewers led to an attraction to the tortured history. Maybe it was like getting revenge at a baseball team that had cheated me. I don't know...
What I do know is that when the moment of truth came a couple of years ago when the Red Sox came to Miller Park in 2003, I wore a Red Sox shirt. I cheered enthusiastically when the Red Sox made a big comeback against the Brewers inept bullpen. When the Red Sox won, I left with that post victory glow while sullen Brewers fans filed out thinking about another 90 or 100 loss season. And three of them were sitting next to me, my parents and my sister...
I realize now that what I really loved about the Red Sox was the story. And to me, it is one of the greatest stories of all time. I picture it being like reading Crime and Punishment in installments over the course of ten years. But at the time, it felt like I was a real Red Sox fan. I relished victories, I licked by wounds from dissappointment. And in the end, 2004 capped the story, with the ALCS being the climax, and the World Series a rapid denoument. Despite the fact that I can never really consider myself a true Red Sox fan, that 2004 October was one of the greatest moments in my life.
And then something else happened. The Brewers said they were sorry. The Seligs sold the team, and they actually started building something. In 2005, they went .500! And as for the Red Sox, the story sort of ended and I couldn't care as much anymore. Sure I still cheered for them, but the urgency wasn't there. I came back home after a long journey. And while the Brewers probably aren't playing in October this year, they are my team once again. I love them again.
And I always sort of did...because I grew up with the Brewers. Because I've never been to Boston, and it's culture is foriegn, while Milwaukee is not. Because the Brewers have a sausage race, their stadium is named after cheap beer, and Molitor is in the Hall of Fame as a Brewer. Because I hate the Cubs more than I could ever hate the Yankees. Because I'm from Wisconsin, and the Brewers aren't just a story to me...and I can only be so bitter for so long...
And this is the key to the Bob Dylan-Beatles feud. The analogy isn't perfect, Dylan never wronged me. But to me, Bob Dylan is part of my being, while the Beatles are just a fantastic story. I grew up with Bob Dylan. My mom once said that whenever she went to buy an album, most of the time she just got a Dylan album because she knew she'd like it. So along with Bruce Springsteen and the Who, Dylan is part of my musical DNA. I never really knew that I was listening to the Beatles until my parents got the White Album on CD. In fact, I still sometimes hear a song and realize, "Oh, that's the Beatles!"
But part of it is that Dylan is American. He's from Northern Minnesota. Highway 61 is a highway I've travelled innumerable times. Highway 61 is the sausage race (you can laugh at that sentence if you like...I just did). "Like A Rolling Stone" is Paul Molitor.
On a drive from Stevens Point to Winona with Ann once, I mentioned to Ann that I never really felt patriotic when I heard "The Star Spangled Banner". I never felt that being American was all that special, and that other countries weren't any better or worse than America. Ann thought that was incredibly sad. I realized though, that my sentiments weren't really true at all. But where I feel truly patriotic is in the arena of music and literature. I don't necessarily think that any of it better or worse than any other country's art. Just as I don't think any country is, at its core any better or worse than America. In fact, most of my favorite books are Russian...but American things are more important to me. And so when Bob Dylan beats out the Beatles, it puts a little hop in my step.
This is not to say I hate the Beatles. I love the Beatles. But Bob Dylan will always be greater in my mind. Of course, now that I have "Like a Rolling Stone" on repeat, I'm trying to wrap my head around why. And the answer, I think, has to do with another sort of vying for my affections type conflict in my life. That's the fact that I care about two baseball teams, the Boston Red Sox and the Milwaukee Brewers.
There's a part of me that feels a bit guilty about loving two baseball teams. Bill Simmons, columnist for ESPN.com wrote that there's nothing worse than being a sports polygamist. There's a bit of romance in living and dying with one team. It works for me in football, the only team I could ever care about is the Packers, to the point that I find watching non-Packer football games exceedingly boring. But I've been driven to sports polygamy in baseball by a couple factors...growing up with the Brewers, I endured a streak of ten years without a winning season. I've never seen them play a meaningful game aside from the 1992 season (when I was nine). Which is fine when your young and all you really care about is seeing grown men play baseball. But eventually I became hungry for more. I saw the fever of October baseball and I wanted it. The need became even more acute when I experienced the Packer's Super Bowl victory. I wanted that feeling while watching the sport I truly cared about.
I'd flirted with other teams before. Those Oakland A's teams of my early baseball loving days had me a bit. However, my first experience at an actual live baseball game was Brewers-A's game at old County Stadium (chosen partially because of my partiality towards Oakland). But when my dad asked me who I'd cheer for, I increduously replied, "The Brewers!" I couldn't abandon the team of Robin Yount, Paul Molitor, and Jim Gantner.
But then the Brewers sunk into a morass of suckitude...they parted ways with Molitor with the words, "He's just a DH now". Molitor was my favorite Brewer. I have a uber-cute picture of my sister and I with him. My sister once walked underneath a baricade (without ducking) and pulled on his shirt saying, "Mr. Molitor?" looking as cute as possible holding up various articles to be autographed. I'd challenge any ego-maniac superstar to charge for that autograph. So watching him hit a home run in the World Series for the Blue Jays made me sick inside. The words "Just a DH" became words of scorn on my lips. I still think the words Sal Bando (the GM who said that) and "fuck you" at the same time. I don't know if Bando is still working in baseball, but if he is, I hope it's in Single A ball. After Yount retired, I had trouble liking the Brewers.
So there was room in my heart for someone else. Somehow the Red Sox filled that void. Don't ask me how, it just did. Part of it was a fascination with the city of Boston. Part of it was the story. Over the years, they got some likable players like Nomar Garciaparra and Pedro Martinez. They had Fenway. Plus they were contenders at least once a decade. I think guilt at abandoning the Brewers led to an attraction to the tortured history. Maybe it was like getting revenge at a baseball team that had cheated me. I don't know...
What I do know is that when the moment of truth came a couple of years ago when the Red Sox came to Miller Park in 2003, I wore a Red Sox shirt. I cheered enthusiastically when the Red Sox made a big comeback against the Brewers inept bullpen. When the Red Sox won, I left with that post victory glow while sullen Brewers fans filed out thinking about another 90 or 100 loss season. And three of them were sitting next to me, my parents and my sister...
I realize now that what I really loved about the Red Sox was the story. And to me, it is one of the greatest stories of all time. I picture it being like reading Crime and Punishment in installments over the course of ten years. But at the time, it felt like I was a real Red Sox fan. I relished victories, I licked by wounds from dissappointment. And in the end, 2004 capped the story, with the ALCS being the climax, and the World Series a rapid denoument. Despite the fact that I can never really consider myself a true Red Sox fan, that 2004 October was one of the greatest moments in my life.
And then something else happened. The Brewers said they were sorry. The Seligs sold the team, and they actually started building something. In 2005, they went .500! And as for the Red Sox, the story sort of ended and I couldn't care as much anymore. Sure I still cheered for them, but the urgency wasn't there. I came back home after a long journey. And while the Brewers probably aren't playing in October this year, they are my team once again. I love them again.
And I always sort of did...because I grew up with the Brewers. Because I've never been to Boston, and it's culture is foriegn, while Milwaukee is not. Because the Brewers have a sausage race, their stadium is named after cheap beer, and Molitor is in the Hall of Fame as a Brewer. Because I hate the Cubs more than I could ever hate the Yankees. Because I'm from Wisconsin, and the Brewers aren't just a story to me...and I can only be so bitter for so long...
And this is the key to the Bob Dylan-Beatles feud. The analogy isn't perfect, Dylan never wronged me. But to me, Bob Dylan is part of my being, while the Beatles are just a fantastic story. I grew up with Bob Dylan. My mom once said that whenever she went to buy an album, most of the time she just got a Dylan album because she knew she'd like it. So along with Bruce Springsteen and the Who, Dylan is part of my musical DNA. I never really knew that I was listening to the Beatles until my parents got the White Album on CD. In fact, I still sometimes hear a song and realize, "Oh, that's the Beatles!"
But part of it is that Dylan is American. He's from Northern Minnesota. Highway 61 is a highway I've travelled innumerable times. Highway 61 is the sausage race (you can laugh at that sentence if you like...I just did). "Like A Rolling Stone" is Paul Molitor.
On a drive from Stevens Point to Winona with Ann once, I mentioned to Ann that I never really felt patriotic when I heard "The Star Spangled Banner". I never felt that being American was all that special, and that other countries weren't any better or worse than America. Ann thought that was incredibly sad. I realized though, that my sentiments weren't really true at all. But where I feel truly patriotic is in the arena of music and literature. I don't necessarily think that any of it better or worse than any other country's art. Just as I don't think any country is, at its core any better or worse than America. In fact, most of my favorite books are Russian...but American things are more important to me. And so when Bob Dylan beats out the Beatles, it puts a little hop in my step.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Baked Goods
There are not fun things to recieve in the mail (bills, severed heads...), there are fun things to recieve in the mail (magazines, birthday cards) and then there are those special moments when baked goods are boxed up and sent to your residence. There's nothing quite like getting baked goods. It's like a windfall of snacks. At first, your not sure what to do with it all. Do you start with the brownies? Or go for the cookies first? Do you save some for others, or do you just eat it all at once? Should I have not eaten three brownies just now? Oy y ve...I'm feeling a little sick...
Once upon a time, my esteemed roomate Blake thought that with all the meaningless holidays we have out there (Veterans Day? what the heck is that about???) there should be a pie day, in which every citizen of the US of A would get a pie. I'd like to amend that...I think there should still be pie day...but that the pie should be sent via US Postal Service. So that every American can experience the joy of recieving baked goods via mail. Perhaps there should be tax breaks for those who send baked goods via mail. I know I'd send out more delicious sweets if it made a difference on my tax return!
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to see if Ann ate all the cookies...
Once upon a time, my esteemed roomate Blake thought that with all the meaningless holidays we have out there (Veterans Day? what the heck is that about???) there should be a pie day, in which every citizen of the US of A would get a pie. I'd like to amend that...I think there should still be pie day...but that the pie should be sent via US Postal Service. So that every American can experience the joy of recieving baked goods via mail. Perhaps there should be tax breaks for those who send baked goods via mail. I know I'd send out more delicious sweets if it made a difference on my tax return!
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to see if Ann ate all the cookies...
Sunday, August 13, 2006
Current Favorites
Not the freakin' Brewers...argh...I get to see them for the first time in over a month today on TBS and this is the freakin' show they put on? *grumble grumble grumble*
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Ancient Greece
So a bit over a year ago I took a history class about ancient Greece. It was pretty sweet, but there was this one book we never got around to reading called The Naked Olympics. I just started reading it not too long ago. Now, I will hold off on a full review until I've finished the thing (which shouldn't take long...it's a quick read and clocks in at an echonomical 185 pages). And unlike much of my recent history reading, it's a bit more lighthearted than, say, the Holocaust or World War I. One side effect of the reading however, is that it's making me nostalgic for that ancient Greece class.
Now, other people in the class might wonder what there is to be nostalgic about. We had to read The Illiad in a week. No other class I've taken has had a more masochistic reading regimin. And while the reading wasn't always good (never, under any circumstances read The Theogony...good lord...) there were a few wonderful things about the class:
1) The Illiad and The Odysee - I liked The Illiad slightly better, but both are magnificent pieces of work. While the sheer size of it was daunting, there are plenty of rewards for taking the task. In addition, it led to a good weeklong period where I talked "Homer Style". For example: "For I went to the gas station, where I encountered Kathy, daughter of Meredith and Carl, who hath smote numerous loiterers and shoplifters with her gaze gleaned from the favors of Hades himself. I purchased Doritos with dollars greener than the pastures of Argos, and with my Nikes gleaming under the orb of Apollo, strolled leisurly home, opened my Doritos, and sacrificed the carpets bounty before indulging in a meal of cooler ranch."
There's nothing but fun in that. In addition, it gave rise to the term "Hector's driver" after the seemingly endless bodycount of unfortunate souls being asked by Hector to drive his chariot. Hector would never be hit by spears or arrows, the driver always got the brunt of the attack, "and the dark would swirl over his eyes". So that anytime someone is forced to do something that probably won't work out well, it can be said that they are, "Hector's driver". It's amazing to me that with all the stuff we get from Greek, no one had the sense of humor to make this a common phrase...I can't be the first person to start doing this, can I?
2) Euripedes - It baffled me in this class as to why Sophocles is so widely read, but I'd never heard of Euripedes until I took that class. I read two plays by Euripedes (The Bacchae and Medea) and found both to be infinately more interesting than anything I read by Sophocles. A thought that occurs to me is that at least those two plays by Euripedes primarily concern women, particularly CRAZY women (that capitalization there is warranted, by crazy I mean homicidal maniac) who kill men. Maybe scholars just don't like that sort of thing. Of course, Sophocles wrote Antigone which dealt with a woman...but she wasn't CRAZY...and her dilemma is just so immediate. Wow, look at me ramble...seriously though, pick up Euripedes, another nugget of gold found sifting through the masochistic reading assignments.
3) "That's Gay" - There's a few easy pleasures in life, and one is saying "that's gay" about something that is, in fact, very, very gay. There are about 458,000 opportunities to do this in an Ancient Greece class.
4) Seymore Byman moments - This was my last class with Dr. Seymore Byman. He was a great professor, a masochist, and an asshole. But he also was capable of creating some of the most akward/hilarious moments ever. Like Kanye West and Mike Myers times a thousand. He gets away with these things mostly because he's old and had tenure. Anyways, the most amazing moment like this came towards the beginning of the semester when one of the non-trads (she actually worked at the bookstore at Winona State, very nice lady) was asking some questions about the course. Now, at Winona State, you had to take classes that fulfilled certain "flags"...like the critial thinking flag or the writing flag or the oral flag. There were some other one's I think...they were stupid, in all honesty...as the classes that were supposed to fulfill certain flags had almost nothing to do with the flag they were fulfilling. Anyways, the Ancient Greece course was officially an "Oral Flag" course. Now, our wonderful non-trad bookseller was asking if the class was an oral flag, to which Dr. Byman responded, "I'd like to discuss an anal flag with you after class". I'm sure you can imagine how the classroom felt after that...
So these are the things I've gained, and I remember now that I'm reading about Greece again. Hmm...this post strikes me as slightly self indulgent...oh yeah, it's a blog...the whole damn thing is self indulgent.
Now, other people in the class might wonder what there is to be nostalgic about. We had to read The Illiad in a week. No other class I've taken has had a more masochistic reading regimin. And while the reading wasn't always good (never, under any circumstances read The Theogony...good lord...) there were a few wonderful things about the class:
1) The Illiad and The Odysee - I liked The Illiad slightly better, but both are magnificent pieces of work. While the sheer size of it was daunting, there are plenty of rewards for taking the task. In addition, it led to a good weeklong period where I talked "Homer Style". For example: "For I went to the gas station, where I encountered Kathy, daughter of Meredith and Carl, who hath smote numerous loiterers and shoplifters with her gaze gleaned from the favors of Hades himself. I purchased Doritos with dollars greener than the pastures of Argos, and with my Nikes gleaming under the orb of Apollo, strolled leisurly home, opened my Doritos, and sacrificed the carpets bounty before indulging in a meal of cooler ranch."
There's nothing but fun in that. In addition, it gave rise to the term "Hector's driver" after the seemingly endless bodycount of unfortunate souls being asked by Hector to drive his chariot. Hector would never be hit by spears or arrows, the driver always got the brunt of the attack, "and the dark would swirl over his eyes". So that anytime someone is forced to do something that probably won't work out well, it can be said that they are, "Hector's driver". It's amazing to me that with all the stuff we get from Greek, no one had the sense of humor to make this a common phrase...I can't be the first person to start doing this, can I?
2) Euripedes - It baffled me in this class as to why Sophocles is so widely read, but I'd never heard of Euripedes until I took that class. I read two plays by Euripedes (The Bacchae and Medea) and found both to be infinately more interesting than anything I read by Sophocles. A thought that occurs to me is that at least those two plays by Euripedes primarily concern women, particularly CRAZY women (that capitalization there is warranted, by crazy I mean homicidal maniac) who kill men. Maybe scholars just don't like that sort of thing. Of course, Sophocles wrote Antigone which dealt with a woman...but she wasn't CRAZY...and her dilemma is just so immediate. Wow, look at me ramble...seriously though, pick up Euripedes, another nugget of gold found sifting through the masochistic reading assignments.
3) "That's Gay" - There's a few easy pleasures in life, and one is saying "that's gay" about something that is, in fact, very, very gay. There are about 458,000 opportunities to do this in an Ancient Greece class.
4) Seymore Byman moments - This was my last class with Dr. Seymore Byman. He was a great professor, a masochist, and an asshole. But he also was capable of creating some of the most akward/hilarious moments ever. Like Kanye West and Mike Myers times a thousand. He gets away with these things mostly because he's old and had tenure. Anyways, the most amazing moment like this came towards the beginning of the semester when one of the non-trads (she actually worked at the bookstore at Winona State, very nice lady) was asking some questions about the course. Now, at Winona State, you had to take classes that fulfilled certain "flags"...like the critial thinking flag or the writing flag or the oral flag. There were some other one's I think...they were stupid, in all honesty...as the classes that were supposed to fulfill certain flags had almost nothing to do with the flag they were fulfilling. Anyways, the Ancient Greece course was officially an "Oral Flag" course. Now, our wonderful non-trad bookseller was asking if the class was an oral flag, to which Dr. Byman responded, "I'd like to discuss an anal flag with you after class". I'm sure you can imagine how the classroom felt after that...
So these are the things I've gained, and I remember now that I'm reading about Greece again. Hmm...this post strikes me as slightly self indulgent...oh yeah, it's a blog...the whole damn thing is self indulgent.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Los Angeles Obsession Leads to Unintended Consequence...
A scene from Tuesday night:
ZT: I want some nachos...
Ann: I want some buffalo wings...
ZT: Hmm, is anything open anymore? The only place I can think of is Hooters...
Ann: I don't want to go to Hooters.
ZT: Me either...I wonder if the they have a Buffalo Wild Wings here.
Ann: Is the internet working?
ZT: Yep...and there's a Buffalo Wild Wings on Clark St. Where is that?
Ann: I think it's what Bee Ridge turns into...
ZT: Hmm, I'll Mapquest it...oh, it's south of Bee Ridge on Beneva.
Ann: Wait, what does Clark St. become though...
ZT: Um...Stickney Point
Ann: Oh YEAH, Stickney Point...dammit, I knew that...
ZT: Wanna go?
Ann: YES!
[driving driving driving]
ZT: I hope they have nachos. Hey look...the Dodgers are playing the Rockies.
Ann: So?
ZT: I dunno, I was just thinking, I wonder if I could become a Dodgers fan...
Ann: Why?
ZT: They seem pretty cool, they have nice uniforms, they have a pretty cool history...I have those Brooklyn Dodgers autographs...Oh, and look, Greg Maddox is pitching for them...
Ann: Wait, wasn't he with the Cubs?
ZT: Yeah, I almost forgot, he got traded to the Dodgers...
Ann: And you didn't tell me?
ZT: Slipped my mind, sorry.
Ann: Well now I kind of like the Dodgers.
ZT: Yeah, me too, not because of Greg Maddux, but you know.
Ann: Yeah...but would you turn your back on the Brewers?
ZT: Oh no...but I could like the Dodgers, in fact I'm kind of thinking of getting a Dodgers hat...
Ann: I think your parents would make fun of you...
ZT: Maybe...Hey! The Dodgers just tied it!
Ann: Oh good...
[munch munch munch...guzzle guzzle guzzle]
Ann: I think they're closing soon, we should go...
ZT: Can we see if the Dodgers end up winning?
ZT: I want some nachos...
Ann: I want some buffalo wings...
ZT: Hmm, is anything open anymore? The only place I can think of is Hooters...
Ann: I don't want to go to Hooters.
ZT: Me either...I wonder if the they have a Buffalo Wild Wings here.
Ann: Is the internet working?
ZT: Yep...and there's a Buffalo Wild Wings on Clark St. Where is that?
Ann: I think it's what Bee Ridge turns into...
ZT: Hmm, I'll Mapquest it...oh, it's south of Bee Ridge on Beneva.
Ann: Wait, what does Clark St. become though...
ZT: Um...Stickney Point
Ann: Oh YEAH, Stickney Point...dammit, I knew that...
ZT: Wanna go?
Ann: YES!
[driving driving driving]
ZT: I hope they have nachos. Hey look...the Dodgers are playing the Rockies.
Ann: So?
ZT: I dunno, I was just thinking, I wonder if I could become a Dodgers fan...
Ann: Why?
ZT: They seem pretty cool, they have nice uniforms, they have a pretty cool history...I have those Brooklyn Dodgers autographs...Oh, and look, Greg Maddox is pitching for them...
Ann: Wait, wasn't he with the Cubs?
ZT: Yeah, I almost forgot, he got traded to the Dodgers...
Ann: And you didn't tell me?
ZT: Slipped my mind, sorry.
Ann: Well now I kind of like the Dodgers.
ZT: Yeah, me too, not because of Greg Maddux, but you know.
Ann: Yeah...but would you turn your back on the Brewers?
ZT: Oh no...but I could like the Dodgers, in fact I'm kind of thinking of getting a Dodgers hat...
Ann: I think your parents would make fun of you...
ZT: Maybe...Hey! The Dodgers just tied it!
Ann: Oh good...
[munch munch munch...guzzle guzzle guzzle]
Ann: I think they're closing soon, we should go...
ZT: Can we see if the Dodgers end up winning?
Monday, August 07, 2006
Current Favorites
Boo-ya! The news is all bad for Monsieur Castro, but he’s made a special visit from his locked down hospital room for a Current Favorites. Was it the promise of some Beastie Boys talk? Was he just jonesin’ for some hardcore ping pong excitement? Did he just want to hang out with his numba one blogga? My boy Fidel was more tight-lipped about his reasons for knocking on my door than he’s been about his health issues…but given that I’m in Florida, the trip was probably a lot easier. Unfortunately, he had to slip out before the Cuban exiles caught a whiff of his very tasteful cologne, but he’ll be back…oh he’ll be back.
Music:
The first words out of the Cuban leader’s mouth after he’d settled in my sitting room with a cigar and a cerveza were, “So my men said you were going to talk some Beastie Boys”. I had to confess that while there were no new Beastie Boys developments, I planned to talk about my recent Beastie Boys renaissance. “Excellent,” he replied, then looked through the cigar smoke with wrathful scorn and added, “It wasn’t right what you did with those top ten albums and stopping before you got to Check Your Head.”
“In due time,” I thought, feeling a more nervous than Bautista himself…
See, Fidel loves the B-Boys for much of the same reasons I do. Like how no matter how many times you listen to an album, you’ll always hear a new line that make you smile. How that music just sounds so good coming out of a set of speakers or a set of headphones. How they were just about the coolest cats in the Western Hemisphere for so damn long. That’s the key to the Beastie Boys, they’re just so damn cool, and funny, and funky. And how no one else could do what they do without sounding like a hopeless dweeb…
“So what album are you listening to?” Fidel asked.
“Check Your Head, almost exclusively,” I replied.
“Good choice, but where’s Paul’s Boutique, Hello Nasty? For heaven’s sake, Ill Communication?!”
“Hello Nasty is too uneven,” I replied, bringing Fidel another cerveza, “and the others remain in my sister’s possession, somehow escaping my gluttonous hard drive…”
“That’s unfortunate. I remember when the CIA shot right through my copy of Paul’s Boutique. I spent an hour trying to make Raul sing ‘Looking Down the Barrel of a Gun’ but while he was technically flawless, he just couldn’t catch the nuances. With this damn embargo, I can only get expensive imports from England, and well, you know how our economy’s been…”
“You have Uncle Sam, I have a CD stealing sister…what can you do?”
“Have another cerveza…”
“How bout I just put on Check Your Head instead…that cerveza isn’t even mine.”
“That’ll work,” Fidel said, and as the last notes of “Namasté” played he finished his beer and bobbed his head until the funk had run out.
Movies:
It was during game six of a World Series of Ping Pong, just I was putting the finishing touches on a 21-12 trouncing to even the series at three apiece, Fidel asked what movies I’d seen recently. I told him about Hustle & Flow, one of the first selections I’d used with my recently acquired Netflix subscription.
“It’s a really good movie. I mean, they use the setting of Memphis well and all that stuff. But the characters are great, that’s what I like best. With a sort of feel good story like this one, it’s always great when you’re really, really pulling for the characters involved. It’s really a feel good story set among some of the worst conditions possible. Only real negative is that you’ll have the song, ‘It’s Hard out Here for a Pimp’ haunting your every waking moment for about two days afterwards. 8/10”
Books:
Fidel was about to leave when I handed him a copy of The Milagro Beanfield War for the trip home. I figured he’d enjoy it, what with a storyline about people trying to stop the machinery of capitalism and all. Plus, it’s pretty funny to boot. He mentioned that it looked a little long, which I replied that it is, but the journey is worth it. He smiled and jumped in his boat and waved goodbye. I shouted, “It’s an 8 out of 10”.
Music:
The first words out of the Cuban leader’s mouth after he’d settled in my sitting room with a cigar and a cerveza were, “So my men said you were going to talk some Beastie Boys”. I had to confess that while there were no new Beastie Boys developments, I planned to talk about my recent Beastie Boys renaissance. “Excellent,” he replied, then looked through the cigar smoke with wrathful scorn and added, “It wasn’t right what you did with those top ten albums and stopping before you got to Check Your Head.”
“In due time,” I thought, feeling a more nervous than Bautista himself…
See, Fidel loves the B-Boys for much of the same reasons I do. Like how no matter how many times you listen to an album, you’ll always hear a new line that make you smile. How that music just sounds so good coming out of a set of speakers or a set of headphones. How they were just about the coolest cats in the Western Hemisphere for so damn long. That’s the key to the Beastie Boys, they’re just so damn cool, and funny, and funky. And how no one else could do what they do without sounding like a hopeless dweeb…
“So what album are you listening to?” Fidel asked.
“Check Your Head, almost exclusively,” I replied.
“Good choice, but where’s Paul’s Boutique, Hello Nasty? For heaven’s sake, Ill Communication?!”
“Hello Nasty is too uneven,” I replied, bringing Fidel another cerveza, “and the others remain in my sister’s possession, somehow escaping my gluttonous hard drive…”
“That’s unfortunate. I remember when the CIA shot right through my copy of Paul’s Boutique. I spent an hour trying to make Raul sing ‘Looking Down the Barrel of a Gun’ but while he was technically flawless, he just couldn’t catch the nuances. With this damn embargo, I can only get expensive imports from England, and well, you know how our economy’s been…”
“You have Uncle Sam, I have a CD stealing sister…what can you do?”
“Have another cerveza…”
“How bout I just put on Check Your Head instead…that cerveza isn’t even mine.”
“That’ll work,” Fidel said, and as the last notes of “Namasté” played he finished his beer and bobbed his head until the funk had run out.
Movies:
It was during game six of a World Series of Ping Pong, just I was putting the finishing touches on a 21-12 trouncing to even the series at three apiece, Fidel asked what movies I’d seen recently. I told him about Hustle & Flow, one of the first selections I’d used with my recently acquired Netflix subscription.
“It’s a really good movie. I mean, they use the setting of Memphis well and all that stuff. But the characters are great, that’s what I like best. With a sort of feel good story like this one, it’s always great when you’re really, really pulling for the characters involved. It’s really a feel good story set among some of the worst conditions possible. Only real negative is that you’ll have the song, ‘It’s Hard out Here for a Pimp’ haunting your every waking moment for about two days afterwards. 8/10”
Books:
Fidel was about to leave when I handed him a copy of The Milagro Beanfield War for the trip home. I figured he’d enjoy it, what with a storyline about people trying to stop the machinery of capitalism and all. Plus, it’s pretty funny to boot. He mentioned that it looked a little long, which I replied that it is, but the journey is worth it. He smiled and jumped in his boat and waved goodbye. I shouted, “It’s an 8 out of 10”.
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Fear and Loathing on the Playing Field...
A thought I've had concerning the previous post is how sports fits into this whole darn thing. I claimed that since Video Games were just that, a game, they could never come under the critical scrutiny of say...film. But I'm starting to wonder how correct that statement could be. First of all, music, film, literature, ect also exist in a twin world of consumer goods as well as art. What's to say that games couldn't? In addition, what about sports? Aren't they, strictly speaking, a game? But somehow, it's able to trancend that to mean so much more in certain cases (Mohammed Ali, Jackie Robinson, or even the 2004 Red Sox). There's a definate split in sports critique. Some of it falls under the inane banter like the "Contender and Pretender" crap on SportsCenter, while others of it is extremely well done. I have no idea what the hell it all means, but it will give me something to think about whilst making appetizers today.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Fear and Loathing on the Internet
I've read two articles, one a comment on the other that are quite interesting. The first, by Chuck Klosterman asks why there are no video game critics. You can read it here. The second is by Chris Dahlen and up on Pitchfork (full text here). It draws a similar conclusion, that the story of todays pop culture is primarily technological, and that no one knows how to write about it yet. Both seem to feel that the person who figures out how to do it (Klosterman seems to feel this might be impossible, while Dahlen is a bit more hopeful) will become the next Lester Bangs or Hunter S. Thompson, or at the very least, might a bit of money.
Dahlen focuses on Thompson, saying he had it easy, since his subject matter was drugs, a subject which is much more interesting than, say, podcasts. But drugs have another thing going for them in that we inherently understand that they affect perception much more noticeable ways than technology does. Therefore, writing a Fear and Loathing in the Blogosphere would be difficult unless someone can truly understand its effects on a person's personality.
Lured by thoughts of money and fame, I thought about how I could become this person. The first problem with this proposition is that I feel I'm about as entwined in the culture of technology as a weekend binge drinker is entwined in the drug culture. But then again, my last semester of school I existed in a state of hyperconnectivity. A high speed internet connection allowed me to read The New York Times, The Village Voice, The Economist, Pitchfork, and a host of other news and information sites daily. MP3 blogs allowed me to listen to music on the cheap. I have an iPod (which truth be told, is like a superpowerful walkman, but with status). I own a cell phone. I contribute to the global discourse with this blog, which has reached a few people.
Since then, however, I have retreated a bit from this state. Not to my pre-internet days of course, but still, I wonder if my life is really that different. In a sense, I'm like a prospect with tremendous upside, but I'm somehow not living up to expectations. I have all the physical skills to bat .300 in the major leagues, but for some reason or other, I'm hitting .220 in single A ball. I can reach a global audience, but I'm still doing what I'd probably be doing normally. Most of these ramblings would probably go in some journal that no one would see. I'd still listen to music and probably just use some other less perfect tool to find new music. I'd watch movies and like or dislike them, and tell just a few friends about it, rather than shout it into an abyss of millions who might stumble accross the soundwaves. In other words, same words, bigger megaphone.
But the fact remains, I can do all of these things better. And not just a little bit better, a lot better. And this must have an effect on the way I live. It would be very useful to have someone out there that can hit at exactly how it is affecting my life. Even better, it would be nice if I could hit on how it is affecting my life.
Here's how I differ with Dahlen about Hunter S. Thompson. Thompson wasn't writing about drugs. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas is about drugs like Crime and Punishment is about murder. The book is subtitled A Savage Journey Into the Heart of the American Dream. Whether Thompson is obstensibly writing about a drug binge, a presidential campaign or a sporting event, he is really using them to reflect upon American culture. He does it with a savage bite, but with a reverence for the subject as well. The writing comes not from drugs, but from a mindset (perhaps informed by drugs).
Klosterman is more on point while not straying from the video game world as Dahlen does. He drives at the essential problem of video games. They are, simply speaking, a consumer good, and not art. They are games, and while they affect us more than other games, they are at their bare essense just like little wooden puzzles. There exists no idea in them, and they hold as much cultural significance as chess. Therefore, writing like a critic about video games is not possible. However, writing about the culture of video games is.
And in an essence, technology is the same way. Writing about it is like writing about a screwdriver. You can only expend so many words explaining how a screwdriver has changed construction techniques and how it changed society. But writing about the essense of a screwdriver is extremely difficult. I don't want to say impossible, but it's damn near.
But there are certain things that have that stamp of human essence in them, and those are forms of communication. We can critique only what we can talk. Therefore, actual criticism of a Gibson guitar will remain technical, but the critique of the sound someone makes with it can be a vital and interesting. Of course, to echo Dahlens and Klosterman, if someone can figure out the essense of a screwdriver, they will become quite famous. And perhaps they'll be discovered in the blogosphere...
Dahlen focuses on Thompson, saying he had it easy, since his subject matter was drugs, a subject which is much more interesting than, say, podcasts. But drugs have another thing going for them in that we inherently understand that they affect perception much more noticeable ways than technology does. Therefore, writing a Fear and Loathing in the Blogosphere would be difficult unless someone can truly understand its effects on a person's personality.
Lured by thoughts of money and fame, I thought about how I could become this person. The first problem with this proposition is that I feel I'm about as entwined in the culture of technology as a weekend binge drinker is entwined in the drug culture. But then again, my last semester of school I existed in a state of hyperconnectivity. A high speed internet connection allowed me to read The New York Times, The Village Voice, The Economist, Pitchfork, and a host of other news and information sites daily. MP3 blogs allowed me to listen to music on the cheap. I have an iPod (which truth be told, is like a superpowerful walkman, but with status). I own a cell phone. I contribute to the global discourse with this blog, which has reached a few people.
Since then, however, I have retreated a bit from this state. Not to my pre-internet days of course, but still, I wonder if my life is really that different. In a sense, I'm like a prospect with tremendous upside, but I'm somehow not living up to expectations. I have all the physical skills to bat .300 in the major leagues, but for some reason or other, I'm hitting .220 in single A ball. I can reach a global audience, but I'm still doing what I'd probably be doing normally. Most of these ramblings would probably go in some journal that no one would see. I'd still listen to music and probably just use some other less perfect tool to find new music. I'd watch movies and like or dislike them, and tell just a few friends about it, rather than shout it into an abyss of millions who might stumble accross the soundwaves. In other words, same words, bigger megaphone.
But the fact remains, I can do all of these things better. And not just a little bit better, a lot better. And this must have an effect on the way I live. It would be very useful to have someone out there that can hit at exactly how it is affecting my life. Even better, it would be nice if I could hit on how it is affecting my life.
Here's how I differ with Dahlen about Hunter S. Thompson. Thompson wasn't writing about drugs. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas is about drugs like Crime and Punishment is about murder. The book is subtitled A Savage Journey Into the Heart of the American Dream. Whether Thompson is obstensibly writing about a drug binge, a presidential campaign or a sporting event, he is really using them to reflect upon American culture. He does it with a savage bite, but with a reverence for the subject as well. The writing comes not from drugs, but from a mindset (perhaps informed by drugs).
Klosterman is more on point while not straying from the video game world as Dahlen does. He drives at the essential problem of video games. They are, simply speaking, a consumer good, and not art. They are games, and while they affect us more than other games, they are at their bare essense just like little wooden puzzles. There exists no idea in them, and they hold as much cultural significance as chess. Therefore, writing like a critic about video games is not possible. However, writing about the culture of video games is.
And in an essence, technology is the same way. Writing about it is like writing about a screwdriver. You can only expend so many words explaining how a screwdriver has changed construction techniques and how it changed society. But writing about the essense of a screwdriver is extremely difficult. I don't want to say impossible, but it's damn near.
But there are certain things that have that stamp of human essence in them, and those are forms of communication. We can critique only what we can talk. Therefore, actual criticism of a Gibson guitar will remain technical, but the critique of the sound someone makes with it can be a vital and interesting. Of course, to echo Dahlens and Klosterman, if someone can figure out the essense of a screwdriver, they will become quite famous. And perhaps they'll be discovered in the blogosphere...
Communist Daughter
There is a song by Neutral Milk Hotel snuck in between the rollicking of "Holland 1945" and the epic, eight minute "Oh Comely" which, at only 1:58 serves basicly as an interlude. A low organ drawl floating in the background along with Jeff Magnum saying the lyrics methodically. A quick image flits through my mind which taps into something that haunts me. A little girl wearing a red dress with a desperate face stares out at a camera in a dilapitated tenement. Out of view, but entirely suffocating the scene are countless brothers and sisters, a consumptive mother all existing in an environment of claustrophobic humidity. Her father has recently died in some awful factory accident. The image is a three dimensional photograph. She exists down at the bottom of adolescent industrialism, a time that has in recent years captured my imagination.
This is one of a few strange images my mind constructs when left to wander. Focus shifts from one aspect to another in each of them. The "Communist Daughter" image shifts from the girl's face, sad and desperate, to her dress, dirty but bright at the same time. It shifts to the room, a bathroom with a candle and dark wallpaper, peeling wallpaper. There are cracks in the tile on the floor, and a pile of debris sits at the corner of the picture. Sometimes I focus on what lies outside the picture. But most of all, I feel the humidity, the choking air trying desprately to escape from the tenement's lone window.
Upon trying to analyze this image, I lose it. It flits away, as if telling me not to read too much into it. My mind draws to a blank and some other thought soon replaces it.
This is one of a few strange images my mind constructs when left to wander. Focus shifts from one aspect to another in each of them. The "Communist Daughter" image shifts from the girl's face, sad and desperate, to her dress, dirty but bright at the same time. It shifts to the room, a bathroom with a candle and dark wallpaper, peeling wallpaper. There are cracks in the tile on the floor, and a pile of debris sits at the corner of the picture. Sometimes I focus on what lies outside the picture. But most of all, I feel the humidity, the choking air trying desprately to escape from the tenement's lone window.
Upon trying to analyze this image, I lose it. It flits away, as if telling me not to read too much into it. My mind draws to a blank and some other thought soon replaces it.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
New Annoying Habit...
aside from posting three times in one day when I have the internet...
I have been using the expression, "up in this muthafucka" or "up in this bitch" when asking for something. For example, if I'm in the car and would like some water, I will ask Ann if I could, "Get some water up in this muthafucka". Or, "Can I get a granola bar up in this bitch". Ann is understandably annoyed and has begun refusing to hand me things when I use these expressions. Also, it could be problem if I'm at a store and I ask someone in my posse, "Can get a quarter up in this muthafucka." So I understand that it's probably best to put this by the wayside. Ann's even suggested using "up in this joint" instead of "muthafucka" or "bitch". However, this just isn't nearly as satisfying to say. So I continue to say it knowing full well my request will most likely be denied. Yes, I live with quite a quandry don't I...
I have been using the expression, "up in this muthafucka" or "up in this bitch" when asking for something. For example, if I'm in the car and would like some water, I will ask Ann if I could, "Get some water up in this muthafucka". Or, "Can I get a granola bar up in this bitch". Ann is understandably annoyed and has begun refusing to hand me things when I use these expressions. Also, it could be problem if I'm at a store and I ask someone in my posse, "Can get a quarter up in this muthafucka." So I understand that it's probably best to put this by the wayside. Ann's even suggested using "up in this joint" instead of "muthafucka" or "bitch". However, this just isn't nearly as satisfying to say. So I continue to say it knowing full well my request will most likely be denied. Yes, I live with quite a quandry don't I...
Current Events
There appears to be quite a bit going on in the world these days. Well, there's always something going on in the world, we just seem to stop paying attention to the lingering things after awhile. There's simulaniously wonderful and awful things happening all over the place. But now, there's two open wars going on in the Middle East, neither of which, strictly speaking, had to happen. In other words, the United States could have just ignored Saddam Hussein and Israel could have just ignored Hezbollah and things would have gone on just about the same as they were. Of course, was anyone really happy with the status quo?
And that's the rub. War is the worst of all possible outcomes, but it can be a spectacular agent of change, either positive or negative. A few years back, I heard this statement which startled me quite a bit. I was struck not only by the simplicity of the statement, but the matter of fact cynical correctness it held. "People use violence because violence works". In other words, I could explain to you that I need money quickly and all the reasons I need your money for food and medicine and the horrible desperate situation I'm in. You might give me money out of kindness and pity, but more likely you'll just brush me aside. Of course, if I point a gun at your head, you'll probably comply. It's easy to forget that King George III wasn't bowled over by the ideals of the Declaration of Independence. We had to fight a war afterwards. It wasn't the ideals that gained us our independence, it was gunpowder. Which is a sad fact. In the end, all too often, might makes right rather than right makes right. Sometimes might stacks up in the correct corner, but unfortunately, there are times it doesn't. Which brings out the biggest problem of war. War is a big risk proposition, not always favoring the correct cause.
Since 9/11 though, there has been a rise in militaristic Americanism however. This is the coupling of a belief in American liberal ideals with a belief that America should flex its might to spread it's ideals. The problem with this is that might is a tricky thing to measure. Napoleon said, "God is on the side of the biggest battalions", but that was said when bigger battalions were a good measure of might. Our mission is not necessarily to protect ourselves anymore, but rather to remake the world in our image. In this sense, we've made our larger battalions smaller by increasing the goal. We are trying to use a hammer to do a screwdrivers job. Sure it might work, but it will be a destructive and difficult process. Unfortunately, the people in power only seem to see American strength in terms of military prowess, not in terms of overall might.
I will admit that I initially supported the Iraq war. Saddam Hussein is a horrible man, an enemy to American ideals, and a dangerous person in the region. He started two wars, carried out a policy of murder against the Kurds, and other attrocities. Which is why it is so difficult to be against this current war. I was frustrated with the then status quo which kept Hussein in check, but hurt his poplulation. But a military solution was not the correct one. It was one of impatience and ultimately has hurt America and Iraq more than it has helped. We tried to put in a screw with a hammer.
However, this stance should not be confused with a loss of faith in American activism. Rather it is a dismissal of the use of American militarism. Bill Clinton once said, "There is nothing wrong with America that can't be fixed with what's right with America." I would like to amend that slightly, and said that there is nothing wrong with the world that can't be fixed by what's right with the world. And there are few thing righter with the world than the United States of America. While recent actions have been questionable or wrongheaded, there have been throughout America's history, plenty of mistakes. But we can overcome them and return to our ideals. America can be a very powerful agent of change in the world. We can open up our universities to the world and give people everywhere some of the best education possible. We can open our borders to people who want to work here and make their lives better. We can use our knowlege to help fight disease and famine. We can use our resources to support people all over the world. But we must use our military might wisely, and with the international community in mind. I can think of no greater honor than to simply be a citizen of one of the greatest world power in the history of humanity.
There are things that must occur for us to change course, but first and foremost is to make sure that our government remains open. George W. Bush has remained too secretive and too arrogant to be a great American leader. We are an open society for a reason. So that the people and the other branches of the government can make a real judgement of our actions. I can think of no more immediate need for America than to elect truly great people into office who will take the responisibilities of being an AMERICAN leader on. That means holding the right of the average citizen to know and consent to their actions as the highest responsibility. That also means remembering John Winthrop's words about his Puritan community in Massachusettes that carry over to American in general, "For we must consider that we shall be as a city upon a hill. The eyes of all people are upon us." When you go to the ballot box this fall, it would be nice if people put petty issues aside and instead voted based upon these considerations. It would be a new dawn for America, and would save it from the unfortunate direction we are heading currently.
And that's the rub. War is the worst of all possible outcomes, but it can be a spectacular agent of change, either positive or negative. A few years back, I heard this statement which startled me quite a bit. I was struck not only by the simplicity of the statement, but the matter of fact cynical correctness it held. "People use violence because violence works". In other words, I could explain to you that I need money quickly and all the reasons I need your money for food and medicine and the horrible desperate situation I'm in. You might give me money out of kindness and pity, but more likely you'll just brush me aside. Of course, if I point a gun at your head, you'll probably comply. It's easy to forget that King George III wasn't bowled over by the ideals of the Declaration of Independence. We had to fight a war afterwards. It wasn't the ideals that gained us our independence, it was gunpowder. Which is a sad fact. In the end, all too often, might makes right rather than right makes right. Sometimes might stacks up in the correct corner, but unfortunately, there are times it doesn't. Which brings out the biggest problem of war. War is a big risk proposition, not always favoring the correct cause.
Since 9/11 though, there has been a rise in militaristic Americanism however. This is the coupling of a belief in American liberal ideals with a belief that America should flex its might to spread it's ideals. The problem with this is that might is a tricky thing to measure. Napoleon said, "God is on the side of the biggest battalions", but that was said when bigger battalions were a good measure of might. Our mission is not necessarily to protect ourselves anymore, but rather to remake the world in our image. In this sense, we've made our larger battalions smaller by increasing the goal. We are trying to use a hammer to do a screwdrivers job. Sure it might work, but it will be a destructive and difficult process. Unfortunately, the people in power only seem to see American strength in terms of military prowess, not in terms of overall might.
I will admit that I initially supported the Iraq war. Saddam Hussein is a horrible man, an enemy to American ideals, and a dangerous person in the region. He started two wars, carried out a policy of murder against the Kurds, and other attrocities. Which is why it is so difficult to be against this current war. I was frustrated with the then status quo which kept Hussein in check, but hurt his poplulation. But a military solution was not the correct one. It was one of impatience and ultimately has hurt America and Iraq more than it has helped. We tried to put in a screw with a hammer.
However, this stance should not be confused with a loss of faith in American activism. Rather it is a dismissal of the use of American militarism. Bill Clinton once said, "There is nothing wrong with America that can't be fixed with what's right with America." I would like to amend that slightly, and said that there is nothing wrong with the world that can't be fixed by what's right with the world. And there are few thing righter with the world than the United States of America. While recent actions have been questionable or wrongheaded, there have been throughout America's history, plenty of mistakes. But we can overcome them and return to our ideals. America can be a very powerful agent of change in the world. We can open up our universities to the world and give people everywhere some of the best education possible. We can open our borders to people who want to work here and make their lives better. We can use our knowlege to help fight disease and famine. We can use our resources to support people all over the world. But we must use our military might wisely, and with the international community in mind. I can think of no greater honor than to simply be a citizen of one of the greatest world power in the history of humanity.
There are things that must occur for us to change course, but first and foremost is to make sure that our government remains open. George W. Bush has remained too secretive and too arrogant to be a great American leader. We are an open society for a reason. So that the people and the other branches of the government can make a real judgement of our actions. I can think of no more immediate need for America than to elect truly great people into office who will take the responisibilities of being an AMERICAN leader on. That means holding the right of the average citizen to know and consent to their actions as the highest responsibility. That also means remembering John Winthrop's words about his Puritan community in Massachusettes that carry over to American in general, "For we must consider that we shall be as a city upon a hill. The eyes of all people are upon us." When you go to the ballot box this fall, it would be nice if people put petty issues aside and instead voted based upon these considerations. It would be a new dawn for America, and would save it from the unfortunate direction we are heading currently.
Hola! Internet is Spotty...
My internet has been quite spotty these days, but it appears to be working this morning, and in an exciting development, I have the day off. So I'm going to use the opportunity to address a few issues:
1) I went and saw the best team in baseball (Detroit Tigers) play, well, not the worst team in baseball, but close (Tampa Bay Devil Rays) at Tropicana Field. The Tigers played pretty bad however. I think Dmitri Young, the Tiger first baseman had 3, maybe 4 errors in the game (2 on the same play). The poor guy still was able to hit a home run in the ninth, so I was happy for him. Ann said, "You wouldn't know they were the best team in baseball the way they played". Zing! Yes the Devil Rays won 7-3 (though with two 9th inning home runs and a couple runners aboard, the Tigers made it interesting at the end). Also, Casey Fossum, the Ray's starter, struck out ten in seven innings en route to a win. He was a bit wild though, bouncing a few pitches, hit two batters at the plate, and one in the head while trying to pick him off at second. Ann and I were joking that he had been drinking. I theorized he had agreed to do a shot for every strikeout, and he didn't come out for the eighth inning because he had passed out. All in all, this was an impoved experience at Tropicana Field, simply due to the better attendance numbers than past games.
I also spent some time thinking about how I would improve the Devil Rays organization if I owned them and cotrolled unlimited resources. First and foremost, I would level the Trop and build a brand new stadium. A nice 35,000-40,000 seater. It would have to be retractable roof just because of the weather, but at least give the people some outdoor baseball whenever possible. The second fix I'd make would be a bit easier. I would rename the team (I hate the Devil Rays moniker) to reflect the Tampa areas two most important resources. Yes, it would be called the "Aquagenarians". Logo? An elderly person wearing a snorkle. Mascot? Just hire an elderly person to put on some scuba gear.
2) I just signed up for Netflix, which is incredibly exciting. Screw gunpowder, Netflix is a way better invention.
Hmm, I feel like my life is slightly more exciting than that. Oh well...ta ta for now!
1) I went and saw the best team in baseball (Detroit Tigers) play, well, not the worst team in baseball, but close (Tampa Bay Devil Rays) at Tropicana Field. The Tigers played pretty bad however. I think Dmitri Young, the Tiger first baseman had 3, maybe 4 errors in the game (2 on the same play). The poor guy still was able to hit a home run in the ninth, so I was happy for him. Ann said, "You wouldn't know they were the best team in baseball the way they played". Zing! Yes the Devil Rays won 7-3 (though with two 9th inning home runs and a couple runners aboard, the Tigers made it interesting at the end). Also, Casey Fossum, the Ray's starter, struck out ten in seven innings en route to a win. He was a bit wild though, bouncing a few pitches, hit two batters at the plate, and one in the head while trying to pick him off at second. Ann and I were joking that he had been drinking. I theorized he had agreed to do a shot for every strikeout, and he didn't come out for the eighth inning because he had passed out. All in all, this was an impoved experience at Tropicana Field, simply due to the better attendance numbers than past games.
I also spent some time thinking about how I would improve the Devil Rays organization if I owned them and cotrolled unlimited resources. First and foremost, I would level the Trop and build a brand new stadium. A nice 35,000-40,000 seater. It would have to be retractable roof just because of the weather, but at least give the people some outdoor baseball whenever possible. The second fix I'd make would be a bit easier. I would rename the team (I hate the Devil Rays moniker) to reflect the Tampa areas two most important resources. Yes, it would be called the "Aquagenarians". Logo? An elderly person wearing a snorkle. Mascot? Just hire an elderly person to put on some scuba gear.
2) I just signed up for Netflix, which is incredibly exciting. Screw gunpowder, Netflix is a way better invention.
Hmm, I feel like my life is slightly more exciting than that. Oh well...ta ta for now!
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