In the spirit of every other blog posting their top 10's. Here is mine!
1. Dirty Projectors - Bitte Orca
2. The Avett Brothers - I and Love and You
3. Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros - Up From Below
4. Pink Mountaintops - Outside Love
5. The Antlers - Hospice
6. Grizzly Bear - Veckatimest
7. Kurt Vile - God is saying this to you?
8. Bombadil - Tarpits & Canyonlands
9. N.A.S.A - Spirit of Apollo
10. Peter, Bjorn & John - Living Thing
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Economic Recession Spectacular Deal BUY NOW!
Sometimes I think that people are following me. It's because I'm a natural leader--unless we're discussing a post-apocalypse where a band of scientists would follow me to Mexico, because I get lost.
I get LOST, that's for sure. The structure and the writing makes the aspiring writer in me want to cry. Sawyer, for god sake! A lot of other people my age like lost. Some people older or younger than me like lost, too. When I am taking questionnaires out of people's hands, it's a lot easier if I can relate to them. A typical conversation runs something like this:
"I like LOST, also."
"Excuse me," they often say. Or, "Me, too. I enjoy mass-market cultural memes that riff slightly on philosophy, literature, and the primacy of man."
"What are you listening to," I then say.
My camera is dead, but it has a movie camera and sometimes I take web video commentaries after watching episodes. Because I curse and don't wear pants, and because they are inevitably shot with my vintage Nazi Swastika flag, these videos are taken down by the web2.0 community.
I also wear a bondage mask, but "not because I like it". It's a statement.
Gary is an unusual name for a girl, but it's not strange at all. I met her on the 3rd St. promenade whilst observing up-and-coming soul singers with their guitars try to make a buck. As a blogger, I do not feel the need to donate. If they are good, I I feel the need not to donate. Inactivity is the defining characteristic of our generation. If we lived in England or Morocco or Sweden, we would not be inactive. We would have awesome accents and live with our parents in a government owned condominium, making y**tube commentaries behind our Nazi Swastika flags. Ha, Parents--they just don't understand!
Gary was listening to Maroon 5. It is her favorite band. Unfortunately, it is not my favorite band. My favorite band is up-and-coming. Is it wrong to want to listen to something different?
I get LOST, that's for sure. The structure and the writing makes the aspiring writer in me want to cry. Sawyer, for god sake! A lot of other people my age like lost. Some people older or younger than me like lost, too. When I am taking questionnaires out of people's hands, it's a lot easier if I can relate to them. A typical conversation runs something like this:
"I like LOST, also."
"Excuse me," they often say. Or, "Me, too. I enjoy mass-market cultural memes that riff slightly on philosophy, literature, and the primacy of man."
"What are you listening to," I then say.
My camera is dead, but it has a movie camera and sometimes I take web video commentaries after watching episodes. Because I curse and don't wear pants, and because they are inevitably shot with my vintage Nazi Swastika flag, these videos are taken down by the web2.0 community.
I also wear a bondage mask, but "not because I like it". It's a statement.
Gary is an unusual name for a girl, but it's not strange at all. I met her on the 3rd St. promenade whilst observing up-and-coming soul singers with their guitars try to make a buck. As a blogger, I do not feel the need to donate. If they are good, I I feel the need not to donate. Inactivity is the defining characteristic of our generation. If we lived in England or Morocco or Sweden, we would not be inactive. We would have awesome accents and live with our parents in a government owned condominium, making y**tube commentaries behind our Nazi Swastika flags. Ha, Parents--they just don't understand!
Gary was listening to Maroon 5. It is her favorite band. Unfortunately, it is not my favorite band. My favorite band is up-and-coming. Is it wrong to want to listen to something different?
Monday, March 9, 2009
Masking the taste of Duct Tape
Have you ever tried to watch a dramatic movie after just watching a suspense thriller like "The Piano" or "Suburbia"? Do you know the feeling you get just watching two retards in love stumbling down the street at noon and you realize all along you've been waiting for a hot dog van to screech up next to them and kidnap retard #2? Am I all alone in this?
I think I am.
I thought I was. Until last night, walking through downtown Los Angeles, where everyone has an angle. On Los Angeles street at 4th, a woman I imagine has done her fair share of whoring was yelling obscenties violently. At 5th st, facing the woman across an entire deserted block, a man was screaming back. Whatever they had taken had gone straight to their sense of hearing, because while they were taking part in what appeared to be an involved conversation, at no point was I able to hear both participants. Nonetheless, inspiration springs from such goings on about town.
Instead of asking the man to fill out a questionnaire, I moseyed one block up to Main St in search of cultural relevance. I found some in front of Pete's Cafe and Bar (4th and Main), where Jayden was smoking a cigarette and staring down all passerby. She looked about 25, but put down 26. I told her she looked like she was 24. "Thank you," she said.
You can tell a lot about a person by the music they listen to; if you're not paying attention, this is the general point of this "blog". The interesting thing about some hipsters is that you can usually tell more about a hipster by the music they don't listen to. Extra insight can come because of music a hipster doesn't listen to, but actively hates anyway. Like Dave Matthews Band. I wish I was a hipster. Secretly, I think Jayden does to, because she is totes not hip. If anything, she reads like a post-grad, post-HS sk8r chic.
"Do you have any tattoos," I asked her.
She said yes.
We got to talking about the cultural aesthetic of tattoos, and postmodern takes on the irony of having them, and then finally the resultant swirl of irony based on irony based on that time that you had 10,000 spoons when you needed a knife. If it was a very uninteresting conversation to recount even minutes after it had happened, but that's kind of how every conversation is when the person you're talking to places albums by Presidents of the United States (not the one with Kitty and Peaches), Coheed & Cambria, Method Man, and Less than Jake in their top 5 album spots.
I wonder if I am passing up true love in the interest of recording musical tastes.
I think I am.
I thought I was. Until last night, walking through downtown Los Angeles, where everyone has an angle. On Los Angeles street at 4th, a woman I imagine has done her fair share of whoring was yelling obscenties violently. At 5th st, facing the woman across an entire deserted block, a man was screaming back. Whatever they had taken had gone straight to their sense of hearing, because while they were taking part in what appeared to be an involved conversation, at no point was I able to hear both participants. Nonetheless, inspiration springs from such goings on about town.
Instead of asking the man to fill out a questionnaire, I moseyed one block up to Main St in search of cultural relevance. I found some in front of Pete's Cafe and Bar (4th and Main), where Jayden was smoking a cigarette and staring down all passerby. She looked about 25, but put down 26. I told her she looked like she was 24. "Thank you," she said.
You can tell a lot about a person by the music they listen to; if you're not paying attention, this is the general point of this "blog". The interesting thing about some hipsters is that you can usually tell more about a hipster by the music they don't listen to. Extra insight can come because of music a hipster doesn't listen to, but actively hates anyway. Like Dave Matthews Band. I wish I was a hipster. Secretly, I think Jayden does to, because she is totes not hip. If anything, she reads like a post-grad, post-HS sk8r chic.
"Do you have any tattoos," I asked her.
She said yes.
We got to talking about the cultural aesthetic of tattoos, and postmodern takes on the irony of having them, and then finally the resultant swirl of irony based on irony based on that time that you had 10,000 spoons when you needed a knife. If it was a very uninteresting conversation to recount even minutes after it had happened, but that's kind of how every conversation is when the person you're talking to places albums by Presidents of the United States (not the one with Kitty and Peaches), Coheed & Cambria, Method Man, and Less than Jake in their top 5 album spots.
I wonder if I am passing up true love in the interest of recording musical tastes.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Nice sweater, let's mate
Fall is an exciting time, even in Los Angeles where it amount to only a 5 degree drop in the mercury. It causes boys and girls to bundle up in sweaters, sweatshirts, wool underwear, and gortex ski masks, it's a cute time for clothing. Well if Fall is exciting Spring is mind-fuckblowing. After long months spent bundled up in the thickest clothes in your closet and hiding under the covers until the late afternoon people are finally out in thin t-shirts and thin jeans/skirts/skorts/kilts/bloomers...it's exciting, flowers bloom, dogs piss, people fall in love. Magical.
Here in LA we are still in the "cold season" where it drops below 60 at night and people complain non-stop, saying things like "I can't wait for spring," or "when is it going to warm up for reals," or "my mom is a fucking whore," y'know, seasonal bull shit. Although, we have been getting glimpses of the new season. A few random days here and there we are able to walk around in thin Am.App. t-shirts and tight jeans, they are the same jeans we wear in the winter but now my legs are sweaty. Today is not one of those days. It's cold enough to hear people whine. Regardless of my distaste for whining I ventured out in the name of blogging today.
I asked my little Q-girl (what I will eventually dub my questionnaire people Q-girls, Q-boys, Q-broMans, etc..) today if she was ready to put away her sweaters for the season and she said that she "couldn't wait for spring and the warm weather to finally start because her mom is a whore," thus fulfilling every prediction I had last night while lying in bed. See sometimes, for the readers enjoyment I think of clever things to ask, sometimes I get good responses and sometimes I get garden variety responses from people who <3 DMB.
Could you date a girl who <3sDMB? I could, so long as she never listened to music around me and never told anyone (a. the we are dating and b. that she likes the smell of crap in her headphones.) Of course we would only date for 3-4 months and I'd totally be using her for her Gap discount, I think that removing Gap lables would tire quickly and thus the 4 month limit on that love affair. Plus, she doesn't even whistle along to Noah and The Whale. On the up side though, I never introduce DMBabes to my friends so there would be little if any reputation destruction. Plus, I have zero reputation.
Here in LA we are still in the "cold season" where it drops below 60 at night and people complain non-stop, saying things like "I can't wait for spring," or "when is it going to warm up for reals," or "my mom is a fucking whore," y'know, seasonal bull shit. Although, we have been getting glimpses of the new season. A few random days here and there we are able to walk around in thin Am.App. t-shirts and tight jeans, they are the same jeans we wear in the winter but now my legs are sweaty. Today is not one of those days. It's cold enough to hear people whine. Regardless of my distaste for whining I ventured out in the name of blogging today.
I asked my little Q-girl (what I will eventually dub my questionnaire people Q-girls, Q-boys, Q-broMans, etc..) today if she was ready to put away her sweaters for the season and she said that she "couldn't wait for spring and the warm weather to finally start because her mom is a whore," thus fulfilling every prediction I had last night while lying in bed. See sometimes, for the readers enjoyment I think of clever things to ask, sometimes I get good responses and sometimes I get garden variety responses from people who <3 DMB.
Could you date a girl who <3sDMB? I could, so long as she never listened to music around me and never told anyone (a. the we are dating and b. that she likes the smell of crap in her headphones.) Of course we would only date for 3-4 months and I'd totally be using her for her Gap discount, I think that removing Gap lables would tire quickly and thus the 4 month limit on that love affair. Plus, she doesn't even whistle along to Noah and The Whale. On the up side though, I never introduce DMBabes to my friends so there would be little if any reputation destruction. Plus, I have zero reputation.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Bus Spotting
Sometimes memes come from the most unlikely sources. Take the recent box office hit "The Hills Have Eyes 2", starring Holly Go-Lightly and Frank "The Tank" Frankertankenson. Of the many lessons to live by, perhaps the most relevant in today's metropolitan cities is this:
++ Protect Your Women from hyper-strong radioactive inbreds. Also, the hills have eyes. ++
This lesson is seems to be especially well-traveled on public transportation. Every day, thousands of people use the subways, busways, and light rail to reach their precious destinations, including young, white college-educated people. The favored tool of protection is portable music devices like the Zune.
I collared two people, apparently in love--though both listed themselves as Single on separate questionaires. They were coming the number-I-Own-a-Car bus at the corner of Echo Park and Sunset in the Hipster Strip, the East-side of the Metro-Central area, with their portable music device split between her left ear and his right. They were listening to the new album by Here We Go Now. His name was Amanda, and hers was Harris--though on second thought they were probably the other way around. It's tough to tell.
They recommend a great deal on the Lexus LX320 at Lexus of Orange County.
++ Protect Your Women from hyper-strong radioactive inbreds. Also, the hills have eyes. ++
This lesson is seems to be especially well-traveled on public transportation. Every day, thousands of people use the subways, busways, and light rail to reach their precious destinations, including young, white college-educated people. The favored tool of protection is portable music devices like the Zune.
I collared two people, apparently in love--though both listed themselves as Single on separate questionaires. They were coming the number-I-Own-a-Car bus at the corner of Echo Park and Sunset in the Hipster Strip, the East-side of the Metro-Central area, with their portable music device split between her left ear and his right. They were listening to the new album by Here We Go Now. His name was Amanda, and hers was Harris--though on second thought they were probably the other way around. It's tough to tell.
They recommend a great deal on the Lexus LX320 at Lexus of Orange County.
Acknowledge My Existence!!!!
As an everyday pedestrian you start to notice that if you take the same route to work every day you will see the same people also traveling along your route, sometimes staying with you until 5th Ave, where they break right toward Washington Square Park and you continue on toward St. Marks Place. Sometimes brushing shoulders on the subway steps as you head into the City and they plod into Jersey for some god-forsaken job, probably in used car sales or travel booking. It reminds me of that archaic hockey game where the players have a metal rod shoved up their asses and they're only allowed to travel in a single line back and forth. Such a dull and painful existence.
I've passed some of these people so many times that I feel like I could fill the questionnaire out for them...
The first person I recognized was traveling along my route was, from the looks of her, a 29 year old lesbian probably named Sarah or Valerie or Clementine - okay probably not Clementine, but she was definitely a lesbian. I know this because she's never once in the whole year we've 'known' each other acknowledged my existence. She'll be the first of my Q-people that I bet I'll get at least 99% of the questionnaire right just from passing on a daily basis (and/or following around throughout the week).
She shops at Urban Outfitters for her basics but gets all her favorites at chic throwback spots like Beacons Closet. I know this for a fact because we fought over a Prince and The Revolution Tee that was on clearance for $9.99 last week, I won but it doesn't really fit yet cause I still have my winter weight on, an essential for surviving NY winters, or at least that's what I tell myself while I make my way back to the grill for another weisswurst at Radegast Hall and Biergarten. It would've been way to big for that skinny bitch anyways!
She is always listening to the newest stuff like Blind Pilot and The Secret Life of Sofia. I can tell this little fact because when I walk behind her I notice she's always looking down at her Zune, checking the name of the song - remembering it's title in her head so she could spew it to her friends later on when it comes on at Am. App. to prove that she was on top of her shit when it comes to finding the newest music around! What a god awful existence, always trying to culturally keep up with the Jone's, or in her case, her lesbian friends.
She works with customers, at a coffee shop, it's called Grey Dog Coffee. I know this because it's right across from my office so I happen to be there a lot because like most virile males in their late 20's, I have an unhealthy relationship with caffeine and a need for every woman I encounter to notice me. Even if the message of notice comes from the shop manager - "sir your staring is making Valerie very uncomfortable, I'm going to have to ask you to leave" - she still noticed.
I've passed some of these people so many times that I feel like I could fill the questionnaire out for them...
The first person I recognized was traveling along my route was, from the looks of her, a 29 year old lesbian probably named Sarah or Valerie or Clementine - okay probably not Clementine, but she was definitely a lesbian. I know this because she's never once in the whole year we've 'known' each other acknowledged my existence. She'll be the first of my Q-people that I bet I'll get at least 99% of the questionnaire right just from passing on a daily basis (and/or following around throughout the week).
She shops at Urban Outfitters for her basics but gets all her favorites at chic throwback spots like Beacons Closet. I know this for a fact because we fought over a Prince and The Revolution Tee that was on clearance for $9.99 last week, I won but it doesn't really fit yet cause I still have my winter weight on, an essential for surviving NY winters, or at least that's what I tell myself while I make my way back to the grill for another weisswurst at Radegast Hall and Biergarten. It would've been way to big for that skinny bitch anyways!
She is always listening to the newest stuff like Blind Pilot and The Secret Life of Sofia. I can tell this little fact because when I walk behind her I notice she's always looking down at her Zune, checking the name of the song - remembering it's title in her head so she could spew it to her friends later on when it comes on at Am. App. to prove that she was on top of her shit when it comes to finding the newest music around! What a god awful existence, always trying to culturally keep up with the Jone's, or in her case, her lesbian friends.
She works with customers, at a coffee shop, it's called Grey Dog Coffee. I know this because it's right across from my office so I happen to be there a lot because like most virile males in their late 20's, I have an unhealthy relationship with caffeine and a need for every woman I encounter to notice me. Even if the message of notice comes from the shop manager - "sir your staring is making Valerie very uncomfortable, I'm going to have to ask you to leave" - she still noticed.
(note to team: I will reuse these themes when we go public, if I decide they work...just so you know when you see it again.)
In general I don't allow people to email me our questionnaire later in the day/week/because it becomes month/year/never. Today when Kim asked if she could fill it out later and send it over I simply said, 'no, I'll just ask somebody who won't big-time me. I'm sorry you're busy you seem glowingly interesting,' or something along those lines. Whatever I said, it worked, she filled out the sheet and I was happy.
Happiness happens for many reasons; eating a hot dog, finding a $5 bill in your pocket, finding a hot dog in your pocket, etc. For me the happiness if felt today was less related to finding out that Kim has grandparents are accepting of all races and more because I feel like I dodged an email quote line. Double happiness happened later when I learned that I had a mustard and bun equip hot dog in my pocket, I ran home for the sauerkraut.
I've received somewhere near 90 million emails in my lifetime, OVER 90 MILLION!!! (Please note that I have no idea how many emails I've actually received in my life time.) Among those 90 million about 1 million were actual emails where 89 million were of the spam variety, of the 1 million about 450,000 were from people who I hardly know/people working with me, of those 450,000 about 400,000 had a quote below the sender's name. Of the 550,000 that were friends, never a quote. I like it that way.
Let me break that down:
90,000,000 emails
89,000,000 spams
1 million real peoples
550,000 great peoples (17 of those from girls who've seen me naked)
450,000 rapists
400,000 life changing quotes
These quotes are usually in a different font, usually a different color, different font size, and ALWAYS worthless. If I were in the business of manufactured motivation I'd have posters around my bedroom, I don't.
I can literally think of zero examples of such quotes because I've never read them, only skipped them with a sigh and the silent recognition that they will never be a part of my aforementioned 17 email club.
If it were cool quoting people would use them for their facebook accounts, but if I were a loser here are some quotes that I would use to solidify my loneliness.
"Remember that tomorrow is coming whether you smile today or not."
"Happiness is a warm (hot) dog."
"Mama always said life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're going to get until you take a bite and realize that you fucked up and picked the marshmallow one and your girlfriend is only letting you have one."
"If there is anything worth knowing I invented it."
Something smart like that.
In general I don't allow people to email me our questionnaire later in the day/week/because it becomes month/year/never. Today when Kim asked if she could fill it out later and send it over I simply said, 'no, I'll just ask somebody who won't big-time me. I'm sorry you're busy you seem glowingly interesting,' or something along those lines. Whatever I said, it worked, she filled out the sheet and I was happy.
Happiness happens for many reasons; eating a hot dog, finding a $5 bill in your pocket, finding a hot dog in your pocket, etc. For me the happiness if felt today was less related to finding out that Kim has grandparents are accepting of all races and more because I feel like I dodged an email quote line. Double happiness happened later when I learned that I had a mustard and bun equip hot dog in my pocket, I ran home for the sauerkraut.
I've received somewhere near 90 million emails in my lifetime, OVER 90 MILLION!!! (Please note that I have no idea how many emails I've actually received in my life time.) Among those 90 million about 1 million were actual emails where 89 million were of the spam variety, of the 1 million about 450,000 were from people who I hardly know/people working with me, of those 450,000 about 400,000 had a quote below the sender's name. Of the 550,000 that were friends, never a quote. I like it that way.
Let me break that down:
90,000,000 emails
89,000,000 spams
1 million real peoples
550,000 great peoples (17 of those from girls who've seen me naked)
450,000 rapists
400,000 life changing quotes
These quotes are usually in a different font, usually a different color, different font size, and ALWAYS worthless. If I were in the business of manufactured motivation I'd have posters around my bedroom, I don't.
I can literally think of zero examples of such quotes because I've never read them, only skipped them with a sigh and the silent recognition that they will never be a part of my aforementioned 17 email club.
If it were cool quoting people would use them for their facebook accounts, but if I were a loser here are some quotes that I would use to solidify my loneliness.
"Remember that tomorrow is coming whether you smile today or not."
"Happiness is a warm (hot) dog."
"Mama always said life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're going to get until you take a bite and realize that you fucked up and picked the marshmallow one and your girlfriend is only letting you have one."
"If there is anything worth knowing I invented it."
Something smart like that.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)