Expressway To Yr. Skull

Hey.

2008-12-20T22:15:00.000-08:00

Anyone who enjoyed this should check out Eating The Document.

Good stuff.

UGH.

2008-12-03T21:16:00.000-08:00

Just...ugh...not today.

I can't take Wednesdays unless they involve comics.

Guys, I'm Totally Blogging About This Later...

2008-12-03T13:49:00.000-08:00

I am a blogger. At least, I tried to blog.

I have admitted several times in the past that this class was not my first blogging experience. Generally, blogging requires that one have a massive ego and that one be so opinionated that it makes normal socialization impossible. As such, I had a feeling that blogging was something I would be quite good at. Like most middle school and high school students, I had a Xanga profile and a Livejournal profile, but I was never able to click with those. Most of the posts made on there were very personal-too personal to even consider posting on the Internet-and it led me to the conclusion that no one really wanted to know about what was going on in my life.
(It did not help that my friends all used these sites as well, and their lives were somehow even more boring and pointless than mine was at that point.)

My first real blog, “Eating the Document,” was intended to be a summation of my very intense (and usually negative) opinions on a topic near and dear to my heart: popular music. It seems that people had become bored with my rants about music after an offhand comment I made about Nirvana was taken to be a personal affront to someone’s livelihood. While I took note that it wouldn’t be the best idea to offend everyone I met with opinionated bile about things that are, admittedly, severely overvalued, I liked the idea that my opinions could have such a strong effect on people. What I especially enjoyed about Eating the Document, though, was the vastness of the blogosphere of which I was a part: previously, on the other two blog sites I have mentioned, my responsive audience was only my friends and slight acquaintances. With Eating the Document, I now had a much larger audience, and only a handful of them-if any at all-knew who I was.

With this assignment, I went back to complaining and whining to a core group of people who knew who I was and who were shocked that I had nothing better to do than post things on the internet. Fortunately, we were all forced to be hopeless shut-ins, so we were free to develop our own personalities that became apparent in the blogs as the semester passed. Ultimately, that is what these blogs were: they were extensions of our personalities, yet they were not really us. Speaking from my own experience, the way I would be perceived based on my posts was always somewhere in my mind. I could say anything I wanted in class, but I’d have to own up to whatever I said in class on that Wednesday.

Blogging is a very therapeutic experience in general; a friend of mine started a blog on Black Friday solely for the purpose of complaining about the shoppers she had to deal with. However, the blog becomes a shaped image of us, one that we create and mold according to our needs and desires. It serves to complicate our lives; then again, nobody’s life is ever really simple, is it?

The Things I Am Thankful For.

2008-11-27T20:12:00.000-08:00

-Sweet potatoes basted in maple syrup, arguably the best food invention of the past 200 years.

-Having lived to witness the apocalypse.

-Living in an age in which I can manipulate information to suit my incredibly childish sense of humor.

-Having a forum on which I can expose the world to my incredibly childish sense of humor.

-Having a forum on which I can listen to some kick-ass tunes.

-Having a place at my disposal in which any slice of information counts, no matter how trivial or unimportant it may seem.

I have a semi-abusive relationship with the internet, which is why I am especially thankful for the real world.

(No, not this. Shame on you for even thinking that.)

HOUSE

2008-11-12T17:26:00.000-08:00

I keep thinking about the darkened hallways in The Navidson Record, and their mysterious nature. Even though the intent of this picture is solely for humor, it's a decent visual representation of what the house could be like and, by association, what the story is. It seems to confound for the sake of confounding, yet the confusion isn't pointless. Again, I feel that the author is pushing the boundaries of language within literature and how language is used; I think he is challenging us to read in a way that is different than what we are used to. In that sense, he has divided by zero.

When A House Is Not A House...

2008-11-12T16:07:00.000-08:00

Nothing is ever what it seems in a book. If Phillip Roth wrote about a can of soda, people will find a way to interpret it as a symbol for something greater. Literal connections don't ever seem to exist for an English class. Regardless of how this writer feels about this, there is no goddamn way that this house is just a house. How can it be, in a book in which the footnotes can't be considered reliable sources of information?

As was mentioned on a previous post, the house seems like a metaphor for art in the 21st century. In considering this, one can consider Harold Bloom's Western Canon, easily the worst thing ever to happen to literature in any time period. Art should be something that ultimately defines its time and goes beyond it to touch on some all-encompassing theme that lasts beyond any point in history. Defining what is art and claiming that those definitions are permanent still ties them down to a particular point in time. Consider that, at one point, Alfred Tennyson was absolutely reviled by writers and literary critics alike for the second half of the 19th century. Even today, I hear professors speak with disdain about certain novels. (The Old Man and The Sea comes to mind...)

In this century, though, the house expands; literature changes and is added on to with each passing second. Sometimes, it can be a very bad idea, a sign of an author's self-indulgence or a writer's lack of original ideas. Either way, though, it reinforces the fact that literature is not something entirely permanent, something that is tied to a particular place or time. It just keeps expanding, regardless of the roof that Bloom puts on it.

CHARACTER SKETCH

2008-11-12T13:49:00.000-08:00

"That very photograph [of his moment of paralysis] hangs on Reston's office wall. It captures the mixture of fear and disbelief on Reston's face as he suddenly finds himself running for his life. One moment he was casually scanning the yard, and in the next he is about to die. His stride is stretched, back toes trying to push him out of the way. But he is too late"-p. 38

"...Billy Reston made several trips to the house where despite all efforts to the contrary, he continued to confirm the confounding impossibility of an interior dimension greater than an exterior one...since the area in question is the master bedroom, Reston must make his way upstairs each time he wishes to inspect the area."-p. 55

"The obvious choice would have been to structure the segment around Holloway's journey but clearly nothing about Navidson is obvious. He keeps his camera trained on Billy who now serves as the expedition's base commander."-p. 97

Bill Reston carries the characteristics of a formerly active alpha male who feels the need to compensate for a disability that was out of his controls. The scene on page 97 is an obvious example of this; since Reston cannot investigate the situation himself, he has to make himself the center of attention. Take the scene on page 555, as well; he seems very gung-ho about leaping into a situation about which he knows little, handicap be damned. The photograph of his paralysis would exist for some as evidence of his shortcoming, but Reston uses it as a badge of honor. He carries it around and shows it to Tom, just to make sure that Tom knows how awesome he is, even though he's in a wheelchair. Essentially, Reston is someone who feels he has to assert himself, which can only imply that he feels very empty about certain aspects of his life.

VIDEO

2008-11-12T13:37:00.000-08:00

The house is not made of leaves. It is not made of wood, nor is it made of aluminum siding or glass. Perhaps the house constantly expands because it is a house of words, a story that grows larger and larger, too large for a paper back. The house is the anti-canon; nothing can be permanently set within its confines. Even the words out of which the house was made can be altered and manipulated and put into a different context in which they take on alternate meanings. In a house of leaves, then, nothing is sacred.

SKIP IT

2008-11-12T12:53:00.000-08:00

Kevin Korber attempted to read an incredibly demanding novel on a clanking subway train that had no sympathy towards his task. The novel contained two stories, each one requesting Kevin's undivided attention. Ultimately, Kevin decided that the footnotes of Johnny Truant were more inviting to him than the story of the house, which he saw as overtly academic in its use of language. As such, The Navidson Record did not receive the attention it desired.

As was previously stated, language use had much to do with Kevin's choice to follow The Misadventures of Johnny Truant. The purpoted main story, which was most likely the story that Kevin's classmates focused on, came across as a dull criticism, even though some interesting things were occurring in it. Since Truant was writing from personal experience, he seemed to be liberated enough from the constraints of academia to use more colorful language. Sometimes, it got a bit too liberated; Kevin found that Truant's description of cunnilingus was little more than a colorfully-worded pornographic fantasy.

Perhaps that is all that Truant's anecdotes were for Kevin; pornography for the literary mind, something aesthetically simple enough to comprehend on a loud, sweaty, smelly train car with no privacy. The Navidson Record is a piece that Kevin had to invest a large amount of intellectual willpower into. However, because of his massive schedule constraints, Kevin was only able to grasp The Navidson Record in a way that only uncovers the surface of the story as it was intended to be understood. Perhaps the film is more interesting; Kevin would be lying if he said that the irrational expansion of the house did not scare him at all. However, Kevin admittedly gave this section of the book a cursory glance in favor of the more accessible Johnny Truant Chronicles.

First Impressions

2008-11-11T10:40:00.000-08:00

I have read House Of Leaves. I have not finished it. Hence, first impressions.

I've always had a fascination for unconventional literature, mostly because I'm too stubborn to let any book defeat me with its incomprehensibility. (So far, there has only been one victor.) A few things I noticed after reading the first 75 pages of House Of Leaves:

-I made a joke to Rob about how the word "house" printed in blue is similar to a hyperlink. The inside flap mentions that the story's earliest incarnations surfaced on the Internet before they were bound and printed. Interesting...

-Critics have mentioned Jorge Luis Borges when writing about this book, and the parallels are easy to pick up on. I was reminded of "The Garden Of Forking Paths," in which a character has to construct an impenetrable maze that turns out not to be the garden of forking paths, but..."The Garden of Forking Paths." The crux of the story is the story itself. Borges was the sort of writer who understood that formats could tell the story as effectively as the words, something that is clearly evident in House Of Leaves.

-I've yet to determine what purpose Johnny Truant's footnote anecdotes serve, but it seems as if they break down the occurrences in the Navidson Record into more personal terms. Is the story about Navidson or Truant? I'll know tomorrow (hopefully).

See you all tomorrow.

In Response.

2008-11-04T22:26:00.000-08:00

I did something productive with my life today.

What Is Censorship?

2008-11-04T10:23:00.000-08:00

I mentioned in class that there were two attempts to justify censorship: in order to maintain the political status quo and in order to maintain the cultural status quo. In The Pillowman, I can see both being at work here.

Step back from the text a bit and look at the situation. Katurian writes these stories that mostly involve the gruesome murder of young children. It's hard for me to view his stories with a political subtext (I'm still not sold on "The Little Green Pig" as a metaphor for non-conformity), largely because it becomes increasingly clear, as the story progresses, that Katurian's stories are an expression of his deep-rooted psychological problems, problems that drive him to murder more than once.

Why, then, would stories about murder for nonpolitical reasons be the subject of censorship? The first rule of a totalitarian government is to keep the people so blissfully happy that they won't ask questions; anything that can disturb a person on an emotional level can awaken them on a political level. Take, for example, Erich Maria Remarque's All Quiet On The Western Front, which is a classic novel that examines the psychological damages of war and how they prevented soldiers from reconnecting with society. That's some pretty heavy subject matter. Too heavy, as it turns out, for citizens of Germany in the 1930s, at least according to Adolf Hitler and the Nazi party, who burned the book by the masses.

Ultimately, is censorship an attempt to prevent self-awareness? If it is, then I will gladly do my part by reading Ulysses aloud on the altar of a church.

Election Day Special!

2008-11-04T10:19:00.001-08:00

As I am writing this, it is 1:18 p.m. There are seven hours and forty-two minutes left to cast your vote.

So do it. It's important that your voice is heard.

How important, you ask?

Important enough that it should not have to come to this.

Because, honestly, who needs that?

Pillows of Death. Comfy, comfy death pillows...

2008-10-29T12:51:00.000-07:00

Is it wrong that I was not at all disturbed by the notion of a good-natured being made of pillows whose lot in life is to convince children that their lives are meaningless and that suicides staged as accidents are the way to go? While many may have had misgivings about this sort of thing, I remained undeterred while reading The Pillowman, which was an absolutely fantastic experience.

My only real regret is that I was unable to see the play performed. Some of the dialogue-such as most of Michal's words-can come across as out of step with the general tone of the play; I would have loved to see how a good actor could adjust that through a performance.

Overall, though, I appreciated the strong characterization throughout. Every twist in the story had its intended effect on me (unlike some other instances), and the characters had layers upon layers of depth. The fact that McDonagh was able to take the scenario of two cops interrogating a prisoner-easily the most overdone, cliché scenario ever regurgitated by some TV-studio hack-and create such an intriguing scenario in which the people who are supposed to be in control are not in control.

No person is really in control, though. The controlling force in The Pillowman is the collection of stories that Katurian writes; the stories that make him a suspect, the stories that his brother re-enacts, and the stories he is willing to die for. Words do have more of an impact than we are led to believe, it seems.

Reaction to midterm.

2008-10-23T08:42:00.001-07:00

OW.

MY HAND HURTS.

MY BRAIN HURTS.

That is all.

I'm Totally Going To Blog About This When I Get Home...

2008-10-15T10:15:00.000-07:00

...and I did. Kinda.

Okay, so this took a lot longer than I had expected, largely because the playbill to Black Watch was misplaced in the vast, expansive pile of papers that occupies a room in my house. Now that it has been found, I can continue.

The playbill for Black Watch contains a preface by the author which I think hits on some points that some of us may have missed while trying to decipher the incomprehensible Scottish slang. In fact, I think Burke pinpoints one of the burning questions we encountered while reading both Black Watch and Jarhead: "Young men around the world are often limited to narrow, predetermined roles that prove more fragile and less sustainable under the pressures of growing up. Many of them find that the identities they would choose for themselves aren't available when they reach adulthood. If the environment does not offer an alternative when this change confronts them, then sometimes they turn to [those] organizations that are adept at exploiting this need for identity."

I believe that Burke implies that social definitions of gender roles play a role into why men join the military. There is this social compulsion for men to do something "manly" like joining the military or something else in which you do physical activities and don't need a degree to do properly. Recently, Rob and I were accosted on the street by someone who bragged that he made more money in a week doing construction than we gave in tuition in a semester, as if that made him superior.

Funny idea: insecurity over one's masculinity makes people join the military.

Oh, Aye

2008-10-07T05:56:00.000-07:00

I enjoy the slang in Black Watch immensely. It becomes easier to read when you picture the cast of Trainspotting reading the film aloud in a room.

The play itself, however, leaves a very uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach. The behavior of the soldiers in the play is selfish to a nihilistic degree; the soldiers seem to care only about themselves, and nothing much more besides that. Everything is done for one's own survival, as if the soldiers are in on the gigantic cosmic joke that is being told through the war.

Oh, and also...

2008-10-02T12:11:00.001-07:00

I guess politicians aren't the egotists I thought they were.

If there's anything more noble than responding decisively in the midst of a crisis, it's bragging about how you responded to that crisis and taking credit for, effectively, making the crisis even worse.

Props to you, Johnny.

Thinking on My Day Off

2008-10-02T11:17:00.000-07:00

Last night's discussion was excellent; I found it interesting that the entire class found something to despise about the contents of the book, even though many of us (myself included) claimed to like reading it.

Tom's post got me thinking about the portrayal of corporations in the book, though. All hipster jokes aside, American Apparel is not exactly an evil corporate giant. It may seem that way to us in New York, given that their ads are fucking everywhere, on the back of every free publication you can find in this city. However, do children recognize American Apparel because of their iconic yellow-and-red clown mascot? Fact is, no matter how depressing it is that Jimmy's favorite bodega now sells extremely comfortable t-shirts instead of $1 bags of pork rinds, it's irresponsible and flat-out dumb on the part of Lappe to lump American Apparel in the same ball as the fast-food hell that seems to wreak havoc everywhere America goes.

Oh, and also in regards to Tom's post: Dear Science is absolutely brilliant, and I advise everyone to get a copy for yourself.

Elated

2008-09-30T11:12:00.000-07:00

The newspaper that Rob and I run finally printed its first issue. After about of month of jumping through hoops and sifting through articles, we finally got the physical copies.

Needless to say, I am pretty happy at the moment.

Funnily, I spent last night at work, hoping that a tanker would crash into the god-forsaken hell hole in which I work and set the whole bloody place aflame...or a suicide bombing.

Yes, I did finish Shooting War-this morning, while my fellow straphangers gave me condemning looks for reading a comic book with boobies on a train-and I hold it as one of the best books I've had to read for a class. I found Jimmy Burns to be an interesting character to crack. On one hand, I thought he was completely reprehensible, a symbol of the very culture he stridently opposes at the beginning of the novel (I mean, come on! A blogger living alone in an apartment on Bedford Avenue in Williamsburg? Can you say trust fund?)

At the same time, though, he's the most human journalist he encounters in the novel. The rest of the journalists and newsfolk who appear in the book-and there are some pretty famous ones-are nothing more than faces, perfectly willing to distort the truth because veracity isn't their job, at least in their minds. They are mouths attached to useless flesh, and nothing more.

I'm not done dissecting the book yet, so look for another post tomorrow afternoon.

I'm Not Here; This Isn't Happening

2008-09-28T20:11:00.000-07:00

I can't take these guys anymore. Two grown men, flinging mud at each other like schoolchildren. And then they have the nerve to ask us for a job. But they never take our answer seriously, anyway.

Our country is fucked, with a capital F. The banks are collapsing, unattractive houses are being owned by institutions who sell the concept of money, and the most powerful man in the world has to ask us for a loan. And that's just what actually makes sense.

What doesn't make sense is that the two men who have the unfortunate task of trying to lift us out of this quagmire are so shameless that they won't let the fact that several million of their future charges are watching stop them from talking right out of their asses!

Just...wow.

I...

I can't deal with any of this.

Why They Fight

2008-09-21T18:14:00.000-07:00

On the back cover of Jarhead, there's a mention in the back-of-book press piece about Swofford "finding out what it means to be...a soldier." In the book itself, I noticed that Swofford is told that the only thing he has control over is "[his] crosshairs."

This seems to be the underlying truth that Swofford is attempting to deny simply by writing this book. He spends his time in the book trying to individualize an experience that was designed to contain as little individuality as possible. Throughout the novel, so many of Swofford's experiences have been echoed in those of others; Swofford believes that his girlfriend is cheating on him and posts it up for all to see...right next to a few dozen stories of infidelity that are similar to his, albeit expressed in a more visceral fashion.

What I can't pinpoint is why Swofford chose such a life for himself (which he did-he signed the contract, and whatever he didn't know doesn't excuse him). Perhaps it was an attempt to seek an identity for himself; it seems as if his childhood was fairly nondescript. One of the few important events of the past that Swofford reveals is his experience at boy scout camp, which he leaves early by claiming he misses his mother (This, combined with his fury at his mother's marriage, implies some Oedipal issues, but that's another blog post). There, it seemed as if he was rejecting an identity imposed upon him by an outside...which is what the Marine Corps is doing to him. Except he's determined to be different, determined to be that guy reading Homer while the other marines play-fight with each other.

The USMC: Have the unique experience of thousands.

Out Of Touch

2008-09-20T21:06:00.000-07:00

I don't feel presumptuous in saying that the best format through which music is transmitted is the vinyl LP. The personal connection between myself as a listener and my LPs is a mystery to me, but I understand that it exists.

To date, I have 45GB of music on my computer, I own over 60 CDs and I have 45 LPs. The downloaded music was all downloaded on impulse, without much thought or time invested into the process. Of the 60 CDs, I can distinctly recall purchasing...one. However, I remember each one of my LP purchases. That's not hyperbole or any form of exaggeration. Ask me when and where I got one of my records, and I can hold up your day for a half-hour about how I got The Velvet Underground & Nico on my first foray into the East Village at age 14 or how I bought a crate of LPs at a garage sale and was shocked to find Joy Division's Closer in near-mint condition. I could tell you about how I discovered Chronic Town in a record store in Williamsburg and yelped out loud at a very high register upon seeing it.

In contrast, I can't tell you any extraordinary circumstances about the time I bought Led Zeppelin's magnum opus, The One With "Stairway To Heaven" On It or when how The Arcade Fire's Funeral ever came across my path. I like the music that is contained on those discs-I'd go as far as to say I love The Arcade Fire album-but there is something about the format that annoys me. CDs (and MP3s) are meant to be portable; you buy a Discman or iPod, and you take it with you so that your errands have a little something going on in the background. But does that not devalue art? I equate it to people who hang reprints of Van Gogh paintings in their living rooms. It looks nice, of course, but can you really appreciate art if it's just sitting there, being barely paid attention to?

Listening to vinyl is like going to an art museum in that respect: you're effectively devoting a portion of your day to appreciating art. However, while the art gallery keeps you at a distance from the art, with the LP, you are experiencing a dialogue with yourself and the artist, uninterrupted save for the need to flip the record over.

Embarassing Tales Of Things Past, Part 1

2008-09-20T13:23:00.000-07:00

This is not my first foray into blogging. My previous attempt can be found here, although they are far more primitive when compared to even this blog.

So I'm not really a blogging expert. Or, I am. I don't know. What is an "expert", anyway?

United States Meathead Corps

2008-09-16T07:38:00.000-07:00

It's hard for me to read Jarhead without allowing my own biases and prejudices to permeate my comprehension of the text. While I have enough respect for the Marines to not get beaten up in certain circles, I cannot help but think that most members of the United States Marine Corps are disgustingly hyper-masculine, arrogant cretins whose image barely conceals the extreme insecurities that lie underneath. That, and I tend to dislike people who have an IQ score that is about 100 points below mine.

As a result, I ended up thoroughly enjoying Swofford's depiction of himself and his fellow Marines within the pages of Jarhead. Swofford's narrator is a terribly insecure man, someone who seems to hate what he does for a living and who can't seem to connect with anyone; when he speaks of the relationships he has with women, he tends to focus on the sexual aspects rather than something more concrete. His superiors appear to be sadists more interested in punishing their underlings than they are in training them. Ultimately, though, Swofford attempts to bring a sense of humanity to his fellow Marines, giving them the most human characteristics possible: depression, anxiety, boredom, and a penchant for self-destruction.

Part of me was somewhat moved by the depiction of the homemade porn viewing. This was an action that symbolized so much of what I hated about the Marines; that testosterone-fueled misogynistic attitude that I've grown to despise after four years in an all-boys high school. Yet, the realization by one of the Marines that the woman in the video was his wife-who, I'm assuming, is not allowed to be treated like a sex object-is enough to drive him to crippling depression. Humans do fight in the military, it seems.

Regardless, the only person who annoys me more than a zealous, misogynistic Marine is a person who played one in an awful movie.

(I should note that not all Marines are macho, chauvinistic, idiots. I'd have to meet every single Marine before I could reach that conclusion.)

Uh...

2008-09-14T10:05:00.000-07:00

I'm currently sitting in my office at St. Francis. In an hour or two, I will be face-to-face with Thurston Moore. I know most of you probably don't know who he is, but this is absolutely life-changing for me. The man's music opened another world for me. Lying down on my bedroom floor, facing the ceiling, my mind on various drugs that my 16 year-old brain couldn't possibly handle, the most of which was Daydream Nation

At first, this was the record that made me feel cool; I could horde it over all my friends who worshiped their awful pop punk (or worse, this.) I got something they didn't...except I didn't get it. The first two tracks are brilliant by anyone's standards, but then your patience gets tested. Most people quit; I kept going, determined to figure out what was going on. I can't be exactly sure when everything finally clicked; all I do know is that I can't listen to one note of "Teenage Riot" without gleefully anticipating what comes afterward.

So yeah, they're okay, but not fantastic.

Hey Joni, Put It All Behind You

2008-09-09T11:07:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure what to make of this play. The characters of The Mercy Seat are obviously twisted, selfish, and-save for Abby at the very last moment-damn near evil. I don't quite buy the idea of LaBute being a misogynist; even though Ben is clearly a stronger character and a meatier role for an actor to take on, he is also written to be despised. After all, what can you say about a man who is willing to twist a horrific tragedy for his personal benefit? Hey, that sounds familiar...

Actually, I think placing a political meaning on the play would be a bit presumptuous. The focus seems to be more about the human condition, on how human beings deal with extreme situations and how these situations tend to control us and push our true selves into the spotlight.

I refer you to a curious connection I made: while reading the play, I was listening to the song "Hey Joni" by Sonic Youth. It was an eerie epiphany: Lee Ranaldo's lyrics, written in 1988, affirmed the themes expressed in the play, while the music mirrored the chaos of the situation. **EDIT** I kept thinking back to Ben's master plan, his "meal ticket"; he's desperately pleading for Abby to "put it all behind [her]." However, whereas the speaker of the song asks the audience for sympathy for Joni, Ben could care less about Abby's feelings if his reputation is on the line.**END OF EDIT**

Ultimately, this affirms the challenge LaBute sets out for himself in the foreword: he has written a play set in an extremely specific historical time, yet his characters and words reach for timeless meanings.

(For further reference, watch the song here:)

Lyrics:

" Hey Joni put it all behind you
hey Joni now I've put it all behind me too
these times can't add up
yr life is such a mess
forget the past, and just say yes

tell me Joni, am I the one
to see you through?
In this broken town can you still jack in
and know what to do?
I remember our youth, our high ideals
I remember you were so uptight
that time in the trees, we broke that vice
we took some steps and now
we can't think twice

tell me Joni, am I right by you?
Tell me how yr gonna lose this hard luck?
Hey Joni, when will all these dreams come true?
You'd better find a way
to climb down off that truck

shots ring out from the center of an empty field
Joni's in the tall grass
she's a beautiful mental jukebox
a sailboat explosion
a snap of electric whipcrack

she's not thinking about the future
She's not spinning her wheels
she doesn't think at all about the past
she thinking long and hard
about that high wild sound
and wondering will it last?

Kick it

Hey Joni, put it all behind you
There's something turning, Joni, turning right to you
my head burns, but I know you'll speak the truth, hey!
hey Joni, put it all behind you
hey Joni, now I've put it all behind me too
forget the future
these times are such a mess
tune out the past, and just say yes

it's 1963
it's 1964
it's 1957
it's 1962

put it all behind you
now it's all behind you"

Republicans Tell Bad Jokes

2008-09-06T23:30:00.000-07:00

While watching and reviewing the speeches from the RNC, I couldn't get past the fact that Rudy Giuliani thinks that Barack Obama's past as a community organizer is a gut-buster of a rib-tickler that goes completely over my head. Perhaps it wouldn't have were I wearing a cowboy hat.

It just seems as if this election is becoming more and more superficial by the day. Less and less time is spent on issues while more attention is paid to the former priest at Barack Obama's church, the number of houses John McCain owns, or the sexual promiscuity of Sarah Palin's daughter; all of these things are given relevance solely because people like us don't seem to shut up about them. I couldn't tell if I was watching a presidential convention speech or the worst episode of "Comedy Central Presents" that had ever been taped. I saw elected officials pantomiming court jesters and pit bulls. I know that the Fool was the wisest character in Macbeth, but acting like a fool does not make one wise.

That being said, Joe Biden is still a breath of fresh air, and not the NPR kind:

Something is seriously wrong on TV. That's why no one turns their computers off anymore.

The Internet Is For...

2008-09-03T20:37:00.000-07:00

The internet exists as a vast, wonderful, digital expanse in which billions of ideas are located; everyone from senators to socialites to slackers can have their say on the internet. One issue does come up with the existence of a censor-less forum of individual ideas: quality control. With so many ideas floating around, it's almost inevitable that most of these ideas will not be very good. Take, for example, Youtube: the cinematic hell-hole where creativity and innovation go to die slow, painful deaths from overdoses of fake Batman trailers and hysterical Britney Spears fans. Don't believe me?

Is this what has become of the culture spawned by the internet? That blond-haired fellow is a quasi-celebrity, all because he threw a tearful tantrum in front of a hand-held camera! Some of these amateur film-bloggers pull media coups on a consistent basis-if you can call a story published on page 6 of the entertainment section of The New York Times a few months after the fad a "coup"-by barely lifting a finger. What have these people done that deserves praise? Can a man-child's hissy fit about a washed-up pop star really be considered as...anything?

Can anything be done to curb the poor quality of materials on the internet? It's possible, but that would remove part of what makes the internet so great: this is a place in which people have a right to attach their name to whatever lousy idea or unflattering wedding pictures they see fit. So, as annoying as Youtube celebrities-and wannabe Youtube celebrities-have gotten, the only thing to do is to applaud their misplaced bravery and ignore them away.

Instead, we should watch something like this:

Seriously. It's for the improvment of your health.