Gots to love dat new music, yo
Everytime I discover a new band that I like a lot I always end up pissed. Especially when I come across a band that's been around for a while. I have been sharing and loaning and borrowing music from a young lady at work. It's always fun to trade with someone you know has a good taste. How do you know someone has good taste? Easy, you see them at a Sleater-Kinney show.
A couple of days ago she loaned me a CD by a band called Mecca Normal. What do they sound like? They sound like a guy playing electric guitar while a woman Patti Smith's over the top of it. Yes, Patti Smith can be used as a verb. Somewhere along the way she created a genre. Geniuses do that.
I guess a good way to tell if a band is really important is if thousands of bands come after them that sound just like them but don't have an ounce of originality. I can name a few bands and artist that have done that: Zeppelin, Skynryd, Stevie Ray Vaughan and the Grateful Dead. I guess I was a little harsh in saying that bands who follow a seminal band don't show any creativity. That jam band genre spearheaded by Phish is a viable and vibrant musical genre. I always wanted to create a musical genre but I think I started too late.
Thursday, January 30, 2003
MASH without canned laughter
O, dear reader, I knowest you probably don't give a flying fuck about whether or not watching a few episodes of the first season of MASH minus the laugh track was a revelation or not. I will tell you that initially it threw me off. I have watched so much of the show in my day that i was expecting the fake giggles and guffaws. They didn't come. I shook off the initial shock and sat back and enjoyed the show. Without the laugh track a few of the gags actually come off a little flat. I don't know if that is from seeing them before or because they just aren't that great. I think it was a little of both. The show didn't really hit its stride until the second season.
I have also been used to seeing MASH in syndication and the video was never that great. They must have gone back to the original prints. I have never seen old MASH episodes look this good. It really is a revelation. I haven't seen a change in video like this since the Sci Fi network showed the new remastered original Star Treks. The only drawback is with the better video the sets of each show appear even less realistic than before. It's harder to suspend belief when you can see that those red rocks are really styrofoam.
O, dear reader, I knowest you probably don't give a flying fuck about whether or not watching a few episodes of the first season of MASH minus the laugh track was a revelation or not. I will tell you that initially it threw me off. I have watched so much of the show in my day that i was expecting the fake giggles and guffaws. They didn't come. I shook off the initial shock and sat back and enjoyed the show. Without the laugh track a few of the gags actually come off a little flat. I don't know if that is from seeing them before or because they just aren't that great. I think it was a little of both. The show didn't really hit its stride until the second season.
I have also been used to seeing MASH in syndication and the video was never that great. They must have gone back to the original prints. I have never seen old MASH episodes look this good. It really is a revelation. I haven't seen a change in video like this since the Sci Fi network showed the new remastered original Star Treks. The only drawback is with the better video the sets of each show appear even less realistic than before. It's harder to suspend belief when you can see that those red rocks are really styrofoam.
Wednesday, January 29, 2003
More DVD gushing
Now that my DVD excitement has leveled off I can now look at the special features and great picture and sound and special features with a more discerning eye. Not with the child-like delight with which I first viewed DVD's. Martin has loaned me his DVD edition of MASH's first season. The release of full seasons of television shows is one of the best advantages of the DVD. You can squeeze 24 episodes of MASH on three DVD's. It would require twelve video cassettes to do the same thing. The feature of the MASH DVD that most excites me is that it allows you to turn off that goddman shitty-ass laugh track. I has always despised the laugh track used on that show. I hope I don't die before I can go home and watch MASH as god intended it to be watched, unblemished by a laugh track.
Now that my DVD excitement has leveled off I can now look at the special features and great picture and sound and special features with a more discerning eye. Not with the child-like delight with which I first viewed DVD's. Martin has loaned me his DVD edition of MASH's first season. The release of full seasons of television shows is one of the best advantages of the DVD. You can squeeze 24 episodes of MASH on three DVD's. It would require twelve video cassettes to do the same thing. The feature of the MASH DVD that most excites me is that it allows you to turn off that goddman shitty-ass laugh track. I has always despised the laugh track used on that show. I hope I don't die before I can go home and watch MASH as god intended it to be watched, unblemished by a laugh track.
Tuesday, January 28, 2003
The Marines and the Replacements
There are two things my Marine recruiter never told me about before I joined the Marines. On everything but these two items he was completely truthful. After talking to others who had joined the Marines I learned that, for a recruiter, he was pillar of truth. He didn't mention to me drill (marching in circles with an M-16 on your should with some guy going left, right, left, right.) and field day. Field days were the worse of the two unmentioned activities.
A field day is one evening every week, usually a Thursday or a Wednsday, where you are required to clean you barracks from top to bottom. And I mean clean. We're not talking picking up your dirty underwear and vacuuming. This is the kind of cleaning that requires scrubbing the floor on your hands and knees and polishing the pipes in the fucking bathroom. No matter how clean the barracks were it was guaranteed that the thugs in charge would find something not cleaned to their satisfaction. They would then chew out your immediate supervisor who would then chew your ass. I hated, hated, hated, hated field days. They served no purpose but to prove to you that those in charge have absolute power.
In the late 80's the Replacements came out with an album called "Don't tell a soul." On this album was a song called "Anywhere is better than here." When I purchased that album I was with an infantry unit in California that specialized in especially tough field days due to a Gunnery Sergeant that must have had a shitty home life. I used to blare that song on my stereo three or four times at different points during the three hour long field days. I have never had a song touch me so deeply. Even when I played the song and it was moving me I used to think that maybe I was being melodramatic. So far, in my post Marine Corps life, I have yet had that song proven wrong. I have been in some bad situations, all of my own doing, since then and never have I had the urge to put that song on. I still enjoy it when I hear it but it only reminds me of my past rage.
There are two things my Marine recruiter never told me about before I joined the Marines. On everything but these two items he was completely truthful. After talking to others who had joined the Marines I learned that, for a recruiter, he was pillar of truth. He didn't mention to me drill (marching in circles with an M-16 on your should with some guy going left, right, left, right.) and field day. Field days were the worse of the two unmentioned activities.
A field day is one evening every week, usually a Thursday or a Wednsday, where you are required to clean you barracks from top to bottom. And I mean clean. We're not talking picking up your dirty underwear and vacuuming. This is the kind of cleaning that requires scrubbing the floor on your hands and knees and polishing the pipes in the fucking bathroom. No matter how clean the barracks were it was guaranteed that the thugs in charge would find something not cleaned to their satisfaction. They would then chew out your immediate supervisor who would then chew your ass. I hated, hated, hated, hated field days. They served no purpose but to prove to you that those in charge have absolute power.
In the late 80's the Replacements came out with an album called "Don't tell a soul." On this album was a song called "Anywhere is better than here." When I purchased that album I was with an infantry unit in California that specialized in especially tough field days due to a Gunnery Sergeant that must have had a shitty home life. I used to blare that song on my stereo three or four times at different points during the three hour long field days. I have never had a song touch me so deeply. Even when I played the song and it was moving me I used to think that maybe I was being melodramatic. So far, in my post Marine Corps life, I have yet had that song proven wrong. I have been in some bad situations, all of my own doing, since then and never have I had the urge to put that song on. I still enjoy it when I hear it but it only reminds me of my past rage.
Monty Python
Somehow this weekend Wendell and I ended up discussing Monty Python. It turns out that we have the same favorite skit, The Parrot Sketch. Surprisingly we both first encountered the Parrot Sketch in an audio format and not via the televsion show. Wendell first heard the audio portion of the television sketch via a morning radio show. I first heard it as it was performed live and released on a "best of" audio cassette entitled "The Final Ripoff." Since then I have heard another live performance of the Parrot Sketch that was recorded during the troupe's live tour of the British Isles. I am not familiar with the chronology of these live recordings but they were done after most of the seminal sketches of the group were already well known in the UK. Since the crowd is familiar wit the sketch, John Cleese, who plays the exasperated purchaser of a deceased parrot, carries his performance so far into camp that it comes back around and is fresh and funny. That is what I first heard and I still think it's funnier than the original televised version. It's like hearing the live version of Freebird before ever hearing the studio version. The studio version, when heard, seems staid and boring. I played the live version for Wendell this weekend after I informed him that it was better than the original televised version. I think he liked it, you can't tell with him sometimes. I think he just wanted me to stop talking.
My point is that a comedy routine that can live without it's original visuals is an obvious sign of strong writing. As a child I used to record MASH episodes on my portable tape player with a microphone hung over the channel selector by its cord so the mic would hover near the silver metal speaker on the front of the television. I used to record Hogan's Heroe's also but it didn't hold up to repeated listens like a good MASH episode could. The most seminal television recording I ever made was the original network airing of Blazing Saddles. I was never the same after that. That is why I can now repeat back to you the entire script of that movie.
Another good example of a televised comedy routine that can live without its video is the job interview with Richard Pryor and Chevy Chase from the first season of Saturday Night Live. I have never done this but I would be willing to wager that most of the better episodes of Seinfeld could be listened to without losing any of the humor. They might actually be funnier as your mind's eye addes its own images. This is why the old Jack Benny radio programs are so hilarious. The next time you are stealing music on a P2P service download a couple of Jack Benny shows from the 40's. Once you learn the characters it is funny beyond words.
Somehow this weekend Wendell and I ended up discussing Monty Python. It turns out that we have the same favorite skit, The Parrot Sketch. Surprisingly we both first encountered the Parrot Sketch in an audio format and not via the televsion show. Wendell first heard the audio portion of the television sketch via a morning radio show. I first heard it as it was performed live and released on a "best of" audio cassette entitled "The Final Ripoff." Since then I have heard another live performance of the Parrot Sketch that was recorded during the troupe's live tour of the British Isles. I am not familiar with the chronology of these live recordings but they were done after most of the seminal sketches of the group were already well known in the UK. Since the crowd is familiar wit the sketch, John Cleese, who plays the exasperated purchaser of a deceased parrot, carries his performance so far into camp that it comes back around and is fresh and funny. That is what I first heard and I still think it's funnier than the original televised version. It's like hearing the live version of Freebird before ever hearing the studio version. The studio version, when heard, seems staid and boring. I played the live version for Wendell this weekend after I informed him that it was better than the original televised version. I think he liked it, you can't tell with him sometimes. I think he just wanted me to stop talking.
My point is that a comedy routine that can live without it's original visuals is an obvious sign of strong writing. As a child I used to record MASH episodes on my portable tape player with a microphone hung over the channel selector by its cord so the mic would hover near the silver metal speaker on the front of the television. I used to record Hogan's Heroe's also but it didn't hold up to repeated listens like a good MASH episode could. The most seminal television recording I ever made was the original network airing of Blazing Saddles. I was never the same after that. That is why I can now repeat back to you the entire script of that movie.
Another good example of a televised comedy routine that can live without its video is the job interview with Richard Pryor and Chevy Chase from the first season of Saturday Night Live. I have never done this but I would be willing to wager that most of the better episodes of Seinfeld could be listened to without losing any of the humor. They might actually be funnier as your mind's eye addes its own images. This is why the old Jack Benny radio programs are so hilarious. The next time you are stealing music on a P2P service download a couple of Jack Benny shows from the 40's. Once you learn the characters it is funny beyond words.
Monday, January 27, 2003
Howdy, Folks
Geez, over the weekend I kinda forgot I even had a blog. I guess I was busy. Or asleep.
I hosted poker night here this Saturday evening. I didn't have a suitable table and Dutch and Michael were nice enough to bring by a folding table so we could play cards. Since I live an unintentionally spartan lifestyle every player had to bring their own chair. It was a full blogger event. Two of the other players, James and William, gots their own blogs also. My roomie, Wendell, played also but he doesn't have a blog. Loser. Wendell and I both came out ahead. Wendell was pulling full houses and four of a kind's out of his ass all night. I think he was cheating. James was an early exit after he was either nearly overcome by his allergies to cats and cigarette smoke or the Merle Haggard I had put on the stereo. I think William was ready to play until he ran out of money or won all his money back or until he got into a fight. We haven't had any fisticuffs at a poker night yet but I can dream.
Things I thought over the weekend
Watching a movie which you are intimately familiar with a few friends is a completely different activity than watching a new movie. You can chat through it and talk about the movie and then stop your conversation when Arnold ups the body count.
I noticed in Terminator 2 that one of the appealing aspects of the film is that those that are trying to save the world from domination by the machines have carte blanche to kill anyone that gets in their way since they are not just robbing a bank they are saving all of mankind and a couple of bystanders really mean nothing. The movie uses a cheap but effective plot technique of allowing the characters to have the willingness to kill innocents but never having to actually do it. It adds a sense of urgency and still allows them to appear more heroic as they avoid collateral damage.
Also, I want to know what it is about action movies that the last scene has to go on fucking forever. I find the last ten minutes of the first Terminator movie almost unwatchable. I know he's tough but, Jesus, kill the goddamn thing so I can stop watching this movie. This unfortunate tendency was taken to new heights in the piece of shit movie Faceoff.
Also I own chaptstick by two different companies, Burt's Beeswax and Blistek. The tubes are two different colors yet they are the same size and have the same type of twisty gear looking thing on the bottom that you twist to make the chapstick rise out of tube so that you may apply it to your suffering lips. My question is why are they identical? Do they come from the same supplier or is there a standard like cassette tapes or batteries? I think somebody is missing out on a great marketing tool here. I have read that McDonald's started selling more fries when they started super sizing the packaging. One of these companies should start increasing the size of the tubes without increasing the price. It will be a lip lube revolution.
Geez, over the weekend I kinda forgot I even had a blog. I guess I was busy. Or asleep.
I hosted poker night here this Saturday evening. I didn't have a suitable table and Dutch and Michael were nice enough to bring by a folding table so we could play cards. Since I live an unintentionally spartan lifestyle every player had to bring their own chair. It was a full blogger event. Two of the other players, James and William, gots their own blogs also. My roomie, Wendell, played also but he doesn't have a blog. Loser. Wendell and I both came out ahead. Wendell was pulling full houses and four of a kind's out of his ass all night. I think he was cheating. James was an early exit after he was either nearly overcome by his allergies to cats and cigarette smoke or the Merle Haggard I had put on the stereo. I think William was ready to play until he ran out of money or won all his money back or until he got into a fight. We haven't had any fisticuffs at a poker night yet but I can dream.
Things I thought over the weekend
Watching a movie which you are intimately familiar with a few friends is a completely different activity than watching a new movie. You can chat through it and talk about the movie and then stop your conversation when Arnold ups the body count.
I noticed in Terminator 2 that one of the appealing aspects of the film is that those that are trying to save the world from domination by the machines have carte blanche to kill anyone that gets in their way since they are not just robbing a bank they are saving all of mankind and a couple of bystanders really mean nothing. The movie uses a cheap but effective plot technique of allowing the characters to have the willingness to kill innocents but never having to actually do it. It adds a sense of urgency and still allows them to appear more heroic as they avoid collateral damage.
Also, I want to know what it is about action movies that the last scene has to go on fucking forever. I find the last ten minutes of the first Terminator movie almost unwatchable. I know he's tough but, Jesus, kill the goddamn thing so I can stop watching this movie. This unfortunate tendency was taken to new heights in the piece of shit movie Faceoff.
Also I own chaptstick by two different companies, Burt's Beeswax and Blistek. The tubes are two different colors yet they are the same size and have the same type of twisty gear looking thing on the bottom that you twist to make the chapstick rise out of tube so that you may apply it to your suffering lips. My question is why are they identical? Do they come from the same supplier or is there a standard like cassette tapes or batteries? I think somebody is missing out on a great marketing tool here. I have read that McDonald's started selling more fries when they started super sizing the packaging. One of these companies should start increasing the size of the tubes without increasing the price. It will be a lip lube revolution.
Friday, January 24, 2003
Fuck McDonald's
I saw yesterday that McDonald's had its first non-profitable quarter for the first time since they went public. Maybe they will go belly up. That food is such shit. Oh wait, I ate there last week. Don't mind me, I got addicted to their food as a child. Every now and then I need to go into a McDonald's and get a fix. Shoot that cheeseburger into my vein, you greasy smellin' greasy surly old broad.
Stormwatch 2003
Let's see, I went to bed the night before last around midnight. Before I went to bed I stuck my head outside and a few tiny snowflakes were swirling down. I was awokenated about 5:30 am by a call from the coworker assigned to alert me to work closings. I heard the message she left telling me that the library is closed. Although I dig my job the first words out my mouth were "whoo hoo." Don't tell anybody but the fact that library closes during bad weather is a perk I was not aware of when I was first hired. I love that we close fairly easily because it has allowed me to run outside and enjoy our snow days over the last ten years. Wendy's is open and I out playing in the snow. Advantage: me.
Since living in the south for ten years has made me a cold weather pussy I was unable and unwilling to go back to sleep. I spent a short time gazing out at the very realistic winter scenery in the back courtyard. The snow was thick and covered the ground completely, it was piled on the branches of the trees and the wind was blowing it into small drifts. Around 7 I grabbed my camera and walked down to the Harris Teeter to buy a few essentials, toilet paper and a six pack of Coors. Who knew how long they would be open? You have to get what you need when you can, man. The roads had not cleared yet there was a layer of packed-snow ice on Park Road. Most drivers were moving slow and carefully in the one lane that was developing. I did see one idiot in an SUV going by down the curving hill above the Harris Teeter at over 30 MPH. I hope the accident he had later was violent and bloody.
I strolled down to Park Road Shopping Center early yesterday afternoon. I had to buy some gloves at Blackhawk Hardware (they have everything but envelopes) because I lost the winter gloves I bought at Sears for a second and final time. By this time the roads were thawed but still slushy and slippery and I actually saw a lady in her car, navigating a Park Road with 1 1/2 lanes open talking on her handheld cell phone. I hope the accident she had later was violent and bloody.
I saw yesterday that McDonald's had its first non-profitable quarter for the first time since they went public. Maybe they will go belly up. That food is such shit. Oh wait, I ate there last week. Don't mind me, I got addicted to their food as a child. Every now and then I need to go into a McDonald's and get a fix. Shoot that cheeseburger into my vein, you greasy smellin' greasy surly old broad.
Stormwatch 2003
Let's see, I went to bed the night before last around midnight. Before I went to bed I stuck my head outside and a few tiny snowflakes were swirling down. I was awokenated about 5:30 am by a call from the coworker assigned to alert me to work closings. I heard the message she left telling me that the library is closed. Although I dig my job the first words out my mouth were "whoo hoo." Don't tell anybody but the fact that library closes during bad weather is a perk I was not aware of when I was first hired. I love that we close fairly easily because it has allowed me to run outside and enjoy our snow days over the last ten years. Wendy's is open and I out playing in the snow. Advantage: me.
Since living in the south for ten years has made me a cold weather pussy I was unable and unwilling to go back to sleep. I spent a short time gazing out at the very realistic winter scenery in the back courtyard. The snow was thick and covered the ground completely, it was piled on the branches of the trees and the wind was blowing it into small drifts. Around 7 I grabbed my camera and walked down to the Harris Teeter to buy a few essentials, toilet paper and a six pack of Coors. Who knew how long they would be open? You have to get what you need when you can, man. The roads had not cleared yet there was a layer of packed-snow ice on Park Road. Most drivers were moving slow and carefully in the one lane that was developing. I did see one idiot in an SUV going by down the curving hill above the Harris Teeter at over 30 MPH. I hope the accident he had later was violent and bloody.
I strolled down to Park Road Shopping Center early yesterday afternoon. I had to buy some gloves at Blackhawk Hardware (they have everything but envelopes) because I lost the winter gloves I bought at Sears for a second and final time. By this time the roads were thawed but still slushy and slippery and I actually saw a lady in her car, navigating a Park Road with 1 1/2 lanes open talking on her handheld cell phone. I hope the accident she had later was violent and bloody.
Wednesday, January 22, 2003
Cross training
One of the coolest things about working in the library is that you are encouraged to cross train. I don't volunteer to cross train like I used to because I have become a little too comfortable with the backroom existence that is telref. I started out a few months ago training in our local history room. The first time was cool, just a tour. I needed to just get acquainted with the situation. The next time up the staffer in charge of my training asked me where I thought I was weak in. I gave her the deer in the headlight look. Weak area? How about the whoel friggin' room, baby? She put me on a PC and I researched my grandfather's history in Detroit. That was fun. He was a fireman back in the 20's.
Today they set me loose in the room that holds their vertical file and map collections. Mmmmm, fun. Let me play in a room full of maps and I'll make two hours pass like a 18 year old's first session with a prostitute.
One of the coolest things about working in the library is that you are encouraged to cross train. I don't volunteer to cross train like I used to because I have become a little too comfortable with the backroom existence that is telref. I started out a few months ago training in our local history room. The first time was cool, just a tour. I needed to just get acquainted with the situation. The next time up the staffer in charge of my training asked me where I thought I was weak in. I gave her the deer in the headlight look. Weak area? How about the whoel friggin' room, baby? She put me on a PC and I researched my grandfather's history in Detroit. That was fun. He was a fireman back in the 20's.
Today they set me loose in the room that holds their vertical file and map collections. Mmmmm, fun. Let me play in a room full of maps and I'll make two hours pass like a 18 year old's first session with a prostitute.
Wake Up!!!
I love it when my roommate over sleeps. He's usually tapping on my door because I have the hardest time getting out of bed in the morning. It's not like I'm over sleeping, I just have a hard time making that leap from consciousness to verticality. This morning I fairly leapt out of bed at 7:15 and hurried into the shower. I got out of the around 7:30 and it appeared that Wendell hadn't arisen yet. I "hooty whooed" and there was not a stir. I tapped and heard a rustle and the door flew open and my dishevelled roommate appears with that panicked look he gets when I wake him. He looked like a squirrel caught in a bird feeder. He knows that when I wake him he is definately running late because I never, and I mean never, get up on time. I get up late so consistently that I no longer am sure what consists of getting up on time.
I love it when my roommate over sleeps. He's usually tapping on my door because I have the hardest time getting out of bed in the morning. It's not like I'm over sleeping, I just have a hard time making that leap from consciousness to verticality. This morning I fairly leapt out of bed at 7:15 and hurried into the shower. I got out of the around 7:30 and it appeared that Wendell hadn't arisen yet. I "hooty whooed" and there was not a stir. I tapped and heard a rustle and the door flew open and my dishevelled roommate appears with that panicked look he gets when I wake him. He looked like a squirrel caught in a bird feeder. He knows that when I wake him he is definately running late because I never, and I mean never, get up on time. I get up late so consistently that I no longer am sure what consists of getting up on time.
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