Teen Angst

M83 + Richard Linklater = !

Netflix Two Cents: Advent Children

Advent Children (2004)

Verdict: Given that modern RPGs have become vaguely interactive videos, I guess this move was inevitable. Resplendent, but retarded. DBZ retarded even.

Pictures of Chairman Mao

Is Nintendo incompetent or the greatest viral marketer ever?










Your guess is as good as mine.

State of the State

As you perspicacious readers may have noticed, I brushed up on my HTML and tidied things up a bit around here. Some spring cleaning for the one year mark (pun!), perhaps. The obnoxious photo borders have been removed, and Mark and I are championing another cause towards which you can focus your apathy. I think we are going to maintain the spartan design, but maybe we will shake up the fonts and/or colors one of these days.

May I also draw your attention to a small recommendation section I added to the bottom of the sidebar. It mostly adds a much needed visual dynamism, but it also gives me a quick vector to advocate movies and music when I don't feel like writing. As a general rule of thumb, the list will contain CDs I am currently obsessing over and movies I would recommend seeing in theaters. If the graphics are too small, you can hover your mouse over the image and it will provide you the names, or you can click on the link and it will take you to the appropriate website [currently, the CDs send you to Amazon - perhaps someone has a favorite indie store they can recommend?]. I believe Mark will contribute a few sections of his own when he finishes finals.

And finally, some of you may be wondering about the whereabouts of a certain B Goldsmith. He is currently in the process of moving across the country, so hopefully we will hear from him shortly.

Good night, and good luck.

Product Review, In Brief II

Product: Coca Cola Blāk

Judgement: Gross, gross, gross! The after-taste is truly a force to be reckoned with. What inhumane god would allow such a terrible commodity to exist?

OK Computer

"Yeah. I have been having trouble with my internet connection and I am calling to see if there is a problem with Comcast's service or if this is a problem from my end. All of the usual active indicator lights are off on my modem. The only one that is flashing is the Orange Standby signal."

"All right Mr. Wright. Are you looking at your modem now?"

"Yes"

"All right Mr. Wright. On the top of your modem, do you see a Standby button?"

"Yes."

"All right Mr. Wright. I want you to push that Standby button."

"OK."

"All right Mr. Wright. Have all the indicator lights turned back on?"

"..."

Verisimilitude

Something no one ever accuses me of in my writing: Realism.

It is obvious. I’m not a realist. I no longer even have the desire to depict “things” are they actually “are”. That’s less interesting to me than the alternative. Whatever the alternative is.

The kicker: everything I like right now is arguably defined by its verisimilitude.

The more complicated kicker: the verisimilitude I’m talking about is more “reality effect” than it is a representation of reality.

Consider this: my favorite television show at the moment is the U.S. version of The Office. (I’m sure nobody knows that… I never post blog entries about it.)

I’ve heard from a lot of people (that have worked in offices) who say how “real” The Office feels. Kind of in the same way the same people say Office Space is realistic.

Thing is… that’s true. It does “feel” or “seem” real. But what bothers me the most is…

Wait…

What the hell am I talking about? Nobody cares about this. The Office is just a funny show. Period. And anyway... what does it matter what’s “real” and what’s not when The Man’s keeping you down? That The Man... what can you say about him that hasn’t always already been said?

It’s time to act people. Stop watching TV and get out there and be politically active.

Or, you know, don’t.

The Ocumenical Sequence

SETH IN GOING TO RISD SHOCKER!!!!!




ROFL! Alexis's BFA just increased in value ten-fold! Next stunning development: Summer travels to Middletown to purchase cantharides.

Growing in to...

My Grandmother. (If she hears about a car accident anywhere near where she expects someone in the family to be, she’ll call just to make sure we’re okay.)

My Aunt. (My cousin moved to New York when he was 19. If she heard that he was going to go out, she’d want him to call her when he got home.)

My Mother. (More of the same. I have work and then school on Mondays. I leave the house before 8:00 and I get home around 10:30. My Mom knows this. Sometimes she calls me anyway. She gets worried. Maybe she gets a feeling.)

It isn’t just these women either. Or just this one side of the family. Worry seems to be part of my genetic material. And it’s usually this type of worry. The dread-of-disease worry. The dread-of-a-phone-call-in-the-middle-of-the-night worry.

Thing is though… I’ve never really felt it. That’s not to say that there isn’t some speechless dread in me. And I know I stress more about some arbitrary system of competition (the Academy) than most people. I wouldn’t be in Graduate school if I didn’t. And I wouldn’t spend nearly as much time writing papers either. But I’ve never felt this type of worry inside of me.

Never until recently. Now I have moments… moments that are becoming more common… where I do feel it. Where I have the dread-worries.

I assume it’s because I finally have someone I’m afraid to lose. That probably sounds horrible in the family context I created above. But we all know it isn’t the same. Losing something you’ve gained is always worse than losing something you’ve always had. (Expected or not.)

The point is: I don’t really like this. And also. At some level I do.

Netflix Two Cents: Thumbsucker

Thumbsucker (2005)

Verdict: Reactionary psychoanalytical vs. psychopharmacological FITE! Can you guess which side wins?

cornū cōpiae

I saw Enon at the Empty Bottle last night: is there any legitimate reason why they are not your new favorite band?

Also following up with my discussion of concerts of old, I thought I would direct you all to the Internet Archive which has a huge stash of live recordings for free download. Big props to ... And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead, The Decemberists, The Dismemberment Plan, Godspeed! You Black Emperor, My Morning Jacket, Pinback, Spoon, and Soul Coughing for giving the Live Music Archive permission for hosting their shows. You can even download 888 concerts by The String Cheese Incident if jam bands are your cup of tea.

Conversely, you can take a look at the Hall of Shame of "bands that have opted-out of the Archive project." Thanks for being an ass Bright Eyes! Even Jason Mraz is cooler than you!

Vesuvian Doppelgänger

As previously reported, David, Mark's brother, believed that he spotted me patronizing a 7-11 on the Apprentice. Now, as far as I remember, the only times David has seen me have been in conjunction with copious alcohol consumption. Could this have clouded his image of me? Or, more likely, is this a doppelganger from a parallel universe where I never changed my high school coiffure?

We report, you decide:

















Clono-Logan did get involved with one of my favorite exchanges: "I think I am going to turn you offer down." Unfortunately, the Apprentice failed to retaliate with, "No, you're just going to have to turn this opportunity YES!"

Netflix Two Cents: Titus

Titus (1999)

Verdict: Having performed bad Shakespeare (Henry VI anyone?), I cannot begin to relate to you how phenomenal Anthony Hopkins is in the titular role of Titus Andonicus. Equally superb is the direction of Taymor who manages to rescue the Bard from both Branagh and himself.

Fever to Tell

I have been fighting off a sinus infection for the past few days or so and on a friend's recommendation I picked up some Zicam to alleviate my suffering. Unlike more sensible medications which are offered in bottle form, Zicam comes in 6 individually wrapped "Medicated Spoons." The packaging markets this oddity as:

*Unique Spoon Dosing
----Delivers a single dose instantly.

This led me to wonder what consumers the makers of Zicam were envisioning. Perhaps an agrarian sector of the populous who could not afford the luxury of convex utensils? Or maybe just those who can't be bothered to search through the kitchen drawers when they really need that single dose "instantly." Cross marketing with Zycam Gout treatment? I smell synergy!

(Light Therapy)

Spring term. The birds are out. The flowers are blooming. The 40s are restocked. N2OC10H12.

With only eight weeks left, the U of C is doing everything in its power to be a pain in my ass. After I was unceremoniously evicted from my hemorrhaging Historiography course, I was forced to petition my way into an undergraduate only class. It felt like I was trying to crawl my way back into the womb or urinating backwards (Red Dwarf holla!). In spite of the U of C undergraduates, who are like the bizarre love children of Gollum and Database, my Varieties of Intellectual History course should be quite delightful: who knew Rousseau had such a penchant for sexual submission? [From my own studies last term, I discovered that Descartes exclusively courted cross-eyed girls] My massive academic revelation while reading Confessions:

Rousseau = EMO

Seriously, would MySpace even exist without Jean-Jacques? Speaking of which, Emo girl (aka. Psuedo Waif) randomly re-entered my life at the Wesleyan GOLD party. She appeared with the tedious inevitability of an unloved season.

Timing, as they say, is everything.

“Boot Camp” to boot

In case you’re not up on all the biggest and latest news, Apple announced yesterday a new program that is sure to melt the hearts of Logan and I (two of the suckers who bought PowerPC Macs within the last year).

It’s called Boot Camp and it’s seems to work really well.

The program allows you to install Windows XP (and likely Windows Vista... if it’s ever released) on to your shiny, new Intel Mac. There are a few drawbacks (all of which should be fixed early next year when OS X Leopard is released), but it’s still amazing.

And it’s making my PowerPC mini Mac’s first anniversary that much more tragic.

Live Baby Live, Part 3

And now the conclusion: the 5 best shows from my short-concert going years. Some of you may get done reading this and think, "Wait a second. When we got done seeing xxxx Logan totally said if he ever had a blog he would put them in his top 5." Well, I hate to break it to you, but I lied. Also, Bismarke didn't make the cut. Sorry SBC!

5. Godspeed! You Black Emperor, Arena, Madrid, 30 January 2002

During the summer of 2001, I made a conscious decision to expand my musical horizons. Perhaps musical taste follows some sort of rhythmic Kuhnian cycle where there are particular moments more prone to reception, and conversely times of unexplainable rigidity (somehow that doesn't sound appropriate). Regardless, I distinctly remember my big post-birthday purchases from that quaint indie store that predated Orion's Music [was it called the Salt Lake CD Exchange?]: Blur - Modern Life Is Rubbish, James - Best of, Pixies - Surfer Rosa, Modest Mouse - Lonesome Crowded Midwest, and more crucial for this story, Godspeed! You Black Emperor - Slow Riot for New Zero Kanada. The small two-track EP was perfect for the intrepid listener: enigmatic and inscrutable, fearful and angry, indulgent and self-important. In a concert setting, Godspeed! You Black Emperor is almost unbearable. Each song stretched out infinitely with uncountable emotional climaxes that seemed to never give way. It was a exhausting show - the encore, while only two songs, lasted well over an hour - but it had a visceral intensity and a stunning sense of urgency that I do not think will ever be matched.

4. The Go! Team, Metro, Chicago, 29 October 2005

We came here to rock the microphone
We came here to rock the microphone
Our aim is to break you down to the bone
Our aim is to break you down to the bone

3. The Rapture, Ultra Live, Providence, 5 December 2003

I think Rebecca hit the nail on the head: if I were ever to be in a band, it would be one like The Rapture. Only one band released a better record in 2003...

2. Basement Jaxx, Hollywood Bowl, Los Angeles, 17 July 2005

The sight was unbelievable: the entirety of the stuffy Hollywood Bowl - 18,000 people total - out of their seats and dancing their asses off. Even the elderly couples in the front Garden Boxes, who may have inadvertently purchased tickets when buying their season passes, could be spotted grooving with Carnival dancers and people in ape suits. Perhaps the BYOB policy was responsible for the delirium, but I would like to think it is because the Jaxx throw one hell of a party. Given the attendance, it causes me physical pain that not a single Basement Jaxx record has sold more than 40,000 units in America. Hell, I was even thinking of blowing off working Harry Potter night just to catch their DJ set in San Francisco the night before. The evening is perfectly encapsulated in a lyric from their closing song Do Your Thing: "All I need is a bumping beat, to bump away my blues."

1. Blur, Mandalay Bay, Las Vegas, June 12, 2003

This is probably a no-brainer. Blur, after all, is my favorite band and a lot of non-concert specific elements contributed in making that night particularly remarkable: I had just recovered from my terrible bout with pneumonia and I luckily managed to snag tickets to the show after the roosting of Nazi birds forced Field Day to be relocated. Then again, there were plenty of reasons this show should have collapsed under the weight of colossal expectation. Blur had vowed never to tour the States again and in the meantime they had lost their guitarist Graham Coxon. Even without Graham, Blur was spectacular. Damon Albarn, after his sobering experience with fame (see the Britpop documentary Live Forever), seemed rejuvenated and the crowd worshipped him. When he leapt into my arms during Girls & Boys, I thought I was going to be torn apart by a legion of obsessive fans. Their adoring screams/shreeks got so loud, my eardrums could no longer process sound. It obviously touched the band as they humbly thanked the crowd and recounted their disastrous former trips to the States. Seeing a band that would play to tens of thousands anywhere else in the world impacted by our small audience of 500 was incredibly endearing. Finishing off the list I started a week ago: Single Best Concert Moment - Lyrically going one on one with Damon Albarn to Popscene. What a dork, I know. Some friends we made in line invited us out for drinks after the show, but Taylor and I were content to retire for the evening and let the concert fully set in. Ecstasy. Euphoria. Bliss. Something like that.