a bazillion dollars!

i just had a great (stoned) idea that's going to make some lucky person (not me, too lazy) a lot of money. i wanna build a giant, like totally to scale, apehead lincoln memorial and like, charge people to see it and sell t-shirts and stuff. like there'll be one of those "olde-tyme" photo things, but instead of dressing up all olde tyme-ey (boring!) you dress up like charleton heston (rad!) in like rags and stuff and get in a cage. we'd probably need licensing for something like this eh? like, how could we make it "resemble" but remain "distinct" from that series of ridiculous sci-fi movies that i won't mention by name lest it come back to bite me in the ass? hmmm...

it can't be all that pretty

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oh, you pretty things.

Skins is back. This is not news to anyone in the UK, but I just downloaded the first episode off of isohunt last night. I watched it, with french subtitles, and it was everything I'd hoped for. Well almost everything.

In a way, this new season opener seems to be playing to the shows weaknesses--namely, efforts to portray realistic relationships involving teenagers, amongst themselves and with their parents. Maxxie and his dad just don't ring true at all, and even worse, the harassment he faces (for being a fag) from a group of local chavs (and that harassment's inevitable conclusion) just doesn't happen like that in real life. In Britain, North America, anywhere.

But the show delivered on its (considerable) strengths as well. Anyone who's seen an episode knows what those strengths are: pretty teenagers who, when not dressed in really nice clothes, are likely to be all but naked, high on ecstasy, and making out with each other. Also good music. Grizzly Bear's, The Knife opened and ended this episode. Oh yeah, and there are not one, but two Maxxie dance sequences! TWO!


Also the episode provided me with my new favourite terribly insensitive slang word. When Tony showed up at the "rave" (that's back in Britain? or did it never go away?) and runs into the snotty upper class girl, she says she heard that he was a "total mong" since getting hit by the bus in the last season's Magnolia-esque closer. A mong! Oh that's rich.

Here's the trailer for season two!

day of mourning

Not a lot to say today, but I've been thinking lately about animalshaveproblemstoo.com. I was briefly obsessed by it, and it was part of my morning work routine back at STA. I'd check it everyday and giggle, and maybe email it to some friends, and further convince myself that I was in love with it's creator. But I left that job and not being in front of a computer all day lead me to forget about my deep and true love for him and his doodles. I still have the Yeti cartoon as my desktop wallpaper.

So I've been thinking about it again lately, and I went back to see what I'd missed this last year. I'm saddened to inform you all that animalshaveproblemstoo is on indefinite hiatus. He called it that. It doesn't look indefinite. From the note it seems pretty clear that we can't expect any more of the hi-jinx of those irascible hamsters and anti-semetic kittens.

I can't say I blame him. It must've been tough toward the end. The good news is that he's writing a novel! And will presumably put his time toward more productive ends.

Good-bye animalshaveproblemstoo. You were too beautiful for this world.

highway of tears

The last thing the world needs is another sad, sensitive boy with a guitar. They're mostly all complete pussies (Sam Beam), self-absorbed liars (Conor Oberst), doomed (Elliot Smith), totally nuts (Will Oldham), or possibly some dangerous combination thereof.

That said, boys with guitars are adorable -- despite the fact that they almost invariably have some variety of unkempt facial hair. So it's fairly predictable that I'd be enraptured with Bon Iver. I just listened to the whole album (For Emma, Forever Ago) through, but just once. It's nothing shocking; mostly devoid of percussion, lots of strummy-strummy, and lonely lyrics delivered in a soft, multi-tracked falsetto. He has a nice voice, and it serves the songs well, but the one occasion that he drops to his lower register and belts out a chesty chorus is the album's obvious highlight. Here's that:

Bon Iver-Skinny Love

There are a couple other standout tracks too, like re:stacks, and Blindsided (I think that's the one). It's worth a listen anyway.

omg omg omg

I thought I couldn't get more excited about this but have you seen it? Have you?


Dave Eggers and Spike Jonze making a Where the Wild Things Are movie is (I hope) a sure thing. Now if we could just convince that 300 douchebag Zack Snyder to lay his hands off of Watchmen.

getting gay with gays

I went to the New Gay Valentine/Anti-Valentine's party last night. For those of you who don't know, the New Gay is a local blog that's a regular fixture in my morning internet rounds. We've had a rocky go of it, the New Gay and I. We haven't necessarily agreed on the nuances of certain issues facing the young, hip and gay. And I, being the general loud-mouth that I am, have not remained silent when affronted by the New Gay. Oh no, heavens no.

I've been pretty regular commenter over there from the get-go. I'm actually a voracious internet commenter in general, and have long shed any previous embarrassment that I may have felt over this activity. So the bon-mots flowed.

Until one day, I read this post. See, I'd been layed up with a cold for two days, getting out of bed only occasionally to check in on the Olsen twins on Perez Hilton. Hung over from the previous night's Nyquil, but hopped up on the day's Dayquil, I was feeling generally delirious and sorry for myself. And after a couple of hours of daytime TV, (It seems like they purposely air the most shrill programming possible before noon, when we're least equipped to deal with the likes of Rachael Ray and Elizabeth Hasselback), I was in no mood for bullshit. But bullshit is exactly what I saw in the post. So, never one to be shy, I sent the New Gay an email, ineloquently expressing my feelings and uttering futile threats of depriving them of my readership (I'll cut you off so fast it'll make your head spin buster! You think I won't?).

Well the response was quick and varied. I'm tempted to reproduce the actual emails here, but some silly sense of ethical obligation prevents me from doing so. Zack, who's posts were generally my favourites, responded first. In summary, he said that maybe I should post the email to the comments, or even write a response for submission. Michael popped up next, which actually surprised me a little. I would have expected him to be first because from previous comment section flares-ups, it had become clear that Michael will pretty willingly take on the role of diplomat, offering offended parties a lot of maybes, perhaps', I-think-what-she-means-is', and his email reinforced that.

But then Ben got to me. See, I had mistakenly thought that Ben had written the bit that I found so irksome (he hadn't) and had addressed him directly in my message. I know I called him lame, and maybe counter-revolutionary, and possibly spawn of Satan himself. Consequently his email was lacking Michael's diplomatic tone. He called me vitriolic, and bitchy and sad. And stupid too! Because if I wasn't so stupid I would have noticed that he hadn't written it at all, and wouldn't have just "made an ass of myself".

Perhaps I'd flown off the handle, but I hardly think I'd made an ass of myself, especially by internet standards.

So when I heard they were throwing a party, I was wary. Matt suggested that it might be an elaborate rouse to smoke me out with the promise of booze and boys and once they got their hands on me they would exact their revenge.

That didn't happen. I met the New Gays, all four of 'em. Amy and I talked Project Runway. Zack even hugged me (cute!) . Michael tried to show me the guy who HAD written the piece, but I skirted that one. Ben and I shook hands and left it at that. They all seemed very nice and were all much more attractive than bloggers should be.

And you know what? as I wrote this, Ben extended the olive branch that is the Facebook friends request. A more meaningful gesture in this day and age I can't imagine. I accepted of course.

So what do you say New Gay? Friends?

shall i compare thee to a puffy sleeve?

I'm coming into this pretty late for any type of running commentary on Project Runway, and Amelie Gilette at the AV Club is doing a much better job of it than I ever could, so I'll be brief. Does anyone else feel pretty ripped off that they couldn't decide between Chris and Rami so they're giving them a mini challenge before the big show? I mean, why even bother bringing a subtitled Roberto Cavalli in if you're not going to listen to him when he says, "I zee ze art"? FUCK RAMI! Sure he made one of the least hideous dresses in PR history, but he made it fourteen times in a row. So rarely do I unreservedly agree with Nina Garcia. And to add tedious insult to contemptuous injury, next week is a reunion show! Why do this to us Project Runway? You know I could have seen spoilers of all five final designers' shows at Jezebel two weeks ago right? I've been uncharacteristically patient, and for what? To watch contestants whose names I've long forgotten laugh and shout and weep together? No thanks!

Anyway, a prediction. Chris will beat Rami, for reasons well known to him. So I'm giving 3-7 odds on Christian, 7-3 on Jillian, and 4-1 for the far-from-scrappy underdog Chris. Taking all wagers.

most. important. record. ever.

I'm skipping school today, for no good reason. I am eventually going do something more productive with my time than blog (like watch the next couple of episodes of Sarah Conner Chronicles), but I've been clicking around the internets for a bit and starting reading this Pitchfork (surprise!) article about Neutral Milk Hotel's "In The Aeroplane Over the Sea". They're making this really big deal about it--they love it in case you didn't know. A while back they named it the best album of the 90's I think. (So I just double checked and it's actually #4)

Though I never listened to it when it was released back in '98, I was always vaguely aware of it. I distinctly remember seeing it featured in Columbia House ads and Spin reviewed it favourably, for these were the days when I was beholden to Spin rather than Pitchfork. It wasn't until years later that I actually heard it, and even later still when I got really attached to it while painting my bedroom with Angie. My favourite thing about it is how sad it is without ever wallowing. And the strange nostalgia that listening to it brings. And the way that something so bizarre can be so familiar.

Here are two of my favourites:

King Of Carrot Flowers-Neutral Milk Hotel
Communist Daughter-Neutral Milk Hotel

The reason I bring this up though is, in the article they have several musicians (of the indie variety obviously) talking about their relationship with the record. Several of them name-checked similarly lauded albums, and several more of them say that they didn't really like this one at first, and were afraid to admit that fact to their (presumably) indie friends. That made me think of albums that those who read this kind of pop critic stuff feel real pressure to like.

Like Daydream Nation. Sonic Youth in general actually. I tried it out, gave it a real shot, but I just don't really like Daydream Nation. I think it's a great title, it's got a great cover (that I'd imagine looks even better on a 12"), but it does nothing for me. It makes me feel like I'm missing out on something too, because my general reaction to it is just "that's so noisy". Like I'm 60 years old or something.

So I'm wondering, if anyone is reading this, about which records you SHOULD like but don't. Anyone secretly think Loveless is a mess? That Exile On Mainstreet is ten tracks too long? That Unknown Pleasures is too depressing to listen to or take seriously?

it's really happening

I had hoped for this ever since I first saw Uno's adorable face last week and now it's happening. Uno won the Westminster Dog Show! YAAAY UNO!




Oh jesus just look at him. He's the first beagle EVER to win Best in Show and you can tell he's very proud of the honour (though maybe feels that he deserves it.)

It would be worth your time to Google around and find some more photos. I'd post more, but this one is from the NYT and I'm (kinda) breaking the terms of use here as I have no permission to for this (obvs). Just trying to stay on the safe side of the law down here in the holy land. And sorry NYT! I'll never cross you again.

i care. i care a lot

In an attempt to join the ranks of the evil, thieving bloggers who are single handedly destroying music, here's a song I recently got that I like, and think you might like too. Let's see if this works.

Oxford Comma-Vampire Weekend

This is further evidence of my seemingly mindless subjugation to Pitchfork. For the record, I think they're twats too. It doesn't stop me from looking everyday, even if I haven't slogged through the entirety of one of their exhaustingly overwrought reviews, maybe ever. This is a test run. Let's see how it goes eh?

ba ba ba

Monday again. Heading out to class for a bit but thought I'd first share this video saw at Idolator. It's all kinds of adorable. ABBA, Andy Gibb and Olivia Newton-John are just sitting around, all realaxed and soft focused, singing some Beach Boys songs. I've got some ABBA stories that I'll save for a later date, but things to note in this video: Andy Gibb is actually kind of cute (weird!), ON-J on the mother-fuckin snare!, and ABBA sings opera (not that surprising really).




That's today on the internets. GOOD-BYE!!!!

if they all jumped off a bridge...

Well here it is. I used to write bloggy type stuff on my myspace page, back when people still used myspace. And everyone has a blog. My boss has been talking about his a lot lately and I got sort of jealous so here we are--My first blogger post.

That's a lie actually. I had a blogger account back when I was like, eighteen. I think I posted twice about how much I loved Bjork and that was the end of it.

So mostly this will serve to update you about stuff that I love, and in equal measure, stuff that drives me fuckin nuts. Please bear with me while I figure out how this site works. A lot of the blogs I see have their own domain names, and apparently don't go through some third party. I have no idea how to do that, and I doubt I've got the commitment it would take to make figuring it out worth it.

Also I think I might post songs I like on here, but don't know about the legality of it, or if blogger even lets you do it. Tonnes of people do, I'm on music blogs all the time, but it seems like there might be a fine line between benevolently sharing your love for, and promoting an artist, and the FBI busting through your bedroom window as you sit, wearing your jim-jams, blogging in the dark (as I am now).

Which brings me to another topic likely to be covered. I live in the US now and have to worry about the FBI possibly busting me down, and the INS deporting me to Gitmo, and the NSA listening to my phone converstions, and the DHS denying me re-entry when I come back from Canada (or elsewhere). Obviously a lot of these fears are exaggerated, but I have some things to say about being a stranger in a strange land.

That's all I'll say for now. I'm gonna post this, then spend some time poking around the site trying to figure it out.

Aye-aye and Goodbye!