No, not that kind of flash testing, you pervert.

AAA! MY NOSE! AAA! MY FACE!

it's a radiation vibe she's grooving on

I have a new(ish) flash for my camera, and have figuratively pounced upon my long-suffering wife as a subject for testing its functions and performance. They were only goofy test shots, but a few of them turned out OK. Naturally, the “mistake” (overexposed – top) was lots of fun. A few more, under the cut.
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Santa Claus is Coming to Town (SCICTT), the 1934 holiday anthem penned by J. Fred Coots and Haven Gillespie, is a dank and terrifying morass of Western religious child terror, wallowing in the threadbare banality of Orwellian paranoia.

The first strains of this well-worn dreadnought of a carol set an appropriately hopeless tone: “You’d better watch out, you’d better not cry, you’d better not pout…”  Children — ostensibly the intended audience of this misanthropic musical melange — are put on notice. They are to be observed, measured, and managed. Not only their behavior but their mental and emotional states will fall under the purview of a merciless overlord in red and white fur. A cheerful melody and jaunty accompaniment lay a whistling-in-the-dark veneer over the lyrics, which summon a haunted existence so unoriginal as to numb the mind.

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(gnarles barkley video removed… trying to find “badware” that made Google block the site)

Is that not a perfect video? Who hasn’t been through that?

In this Wall Street Journal article (somewhat rare liberal perspective for that paper), the populist, anti-intellectual movement of the GOP in the past couple of decades is dissected, and the death of the longstanding conservative intellectual tradition is announced. My thoughts, exactly:

How, 30 years later, could younger conservative intellectuals promote a candidate like Sarah Palin, whose ignorance, provinciality and populist demagoguery represent everything older conservative thinkers once stood against?

David Brooks noted correctly (if belatedly) that conservatives’ “disdain for liberal intellectuals” had slipped into “disdain for the educated class as a whole,” and worried that the Republican Party was alienating educated voters. I couldn’t care less about the future of the Republican Party, but I do care about the quality of political thinking and judgment in the country as a whole. There was a time when conservative intellectuals raised the level of American public debate and helped to keep it sober. Those days are gone. As for political judgment, the promotion of Sarah Palin as a possible world leader speaks for itself.

from http://punditkitchen.com

La Universidad Autónoma de Nuevo León is a pretty neat place. I wish I had more pictures, but I didn’t have time, this trip. I feel like I had time for nothing but attending conference sessions and social events, and trying very hard to understand all the rapid-fire Spanish being spoken everywhere around me. I was also sort of the leader of this delegation, two of whom spoke very little Spanish and two more of whom were grad students. I worried about my five companions a lot. Where are they, did they get on the bus to the hotel, are they going to make it to the restaurant, why aren’t they in the session, did they find the meeting room, are they having fun, etc.

Lesson #1: I don’t want to be a politician. This kind of thing is exhausting, but not in a healthy, feel-the-burn way.

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Did I already post this? Maybe. But here it is again. With enough cool pictures, I can temporarily forget about what is happening to my fair nation. :/

1. I have stumbled on the Harry Potter Puppet Pals a little late, but it’s a great way to spend a couple of minutes. Better late than never.
2. Inspiring story about a guy in Africa who started using a traditional method of rejuvenating unfarmable land, starting a grassroots movement that has reforested millions (yes!) of hectares, largely with no government or NGO support; just farmers deciding to do this themselves.
3. I first heard this beautiful tune by the Fleet Foxes a couple of months ago. and I still like it.
4. Liked Back to the Future? Then you’ll (potentially) love Brokeback to the Future! (Totally SFW, despite how hilarious it is)
5. I KNEW IT!!!

Now I should probably stop wasting my day and go be productive. At least a little. The cat, by the way, is doing pretty well, as evidenced by the amount of mischief he has perpetrated in a few short days, and the fact that he is now licking his butt.

In response to Amanda’s ridiculous assertion that Euphrates doesn’t yield any good nicknames for cats, I offer: FRAIDY!

So I was at this metal bar last weekend. It is so much fun to say things like that. Especially at church. A former student, Sergio, is in a metal band called Sovereign Wrath, and they had a gig last Saturday. After a year or two of promising (and failing) to go see his band, I finally did it. Sadly, there are no pictures of SW, because my camera battery died during the opening act, named (you know it) Hank of the Destruction Moose. Yes, the extra “of” is actually part of the name. Also, I bought a t-shirt. SW was more interesting, musically, however. Of course, they were both… metal. I’m not a huge fan of the modern hardcore metal genre (if that’s even what it’s called), but once again I have found that listening, in person, to commited, passionate, talented people making music is enjoyable no matter the genre.

The bar was a dual-purpose club in Harlingen, TX, named “Rock Stars.” One half was the metal bar, and the other was filled with equally merciless and frightening peppy dance tunes. Strangely, there seemed to be no noticeable music bleed-over between the two halves. And if you could have felt the impact in your chest from the dual kick bass drums, amplified with equipment usually reserved for large stadiums, you would understand why that’s surprising. And that brings me to an important point: Metal types likes their tunes somewhat loud. I wore earplugs, and my head was still buzzing by the end of the night. When the first band (HOTDM) started playing, the beats were seriously making my eyeballs unfocus, slightly. I got used to it. It was a fun sensation. It was also fun to watch, with much lower noise saturation, how the people who were enveloped in the brick outhouse of sound were behaving.

Which brings me to the people, which were the whole reason this was an awesome outing (adventure, adventure… metal bar, adventure…). The people were pretty cool. They look scary, of course (I was a little afraid to photograph any of the seriously scary not-on-stage people), but they all seemed to be either friends, acquaintances, or strangers and nice to each other. Maybe I only saw a small cross-section, but that’s the experience I had. Of course, I also knew Sergio, and he introduced me to a few people. I am left wondering: was the friendliness a metal thing, or a Valley thing? People down here are pretty friendly, and often very tight-knit, socially.

HOTDM was impressive. Their synchronization was tight, the lyrics (unintelligible in all cases) were matched rhythmically, and they really put on a good show. Like SW, their set was sort of a full-frontal, all-out sensory assault on the audience, who ate it up like puppies with their chow. It was a lot of fun to watch the stage performance, which was clearly heavily influenced by themes of aggression and (or so it seemed) laypersons’ views of mental illness. Then, the band would break for a few seconds, and the singer would (often in his scary singing voice, but not always) make the standard chitchat: hello Harlingen. Your town rocks. Man, the mosquitoes are bad down here. HOTDM was from El Paso, btw.

Visually, SW was not as impressive as HOTDM, but that would have been hard. Hank seemed to have some serious work put into their floor show (as it were). SW, however, was every bit as musically tight. Plus, they had a more variegated sound. This was due partly to their occasional forays into non-metallic genres (only briefly, though), partly the Great Wall of Drum Kit (seriously; you just had to see this thing packed onto that stage), and partly to the fact that they had a keyboard player. Yes, keyboards. A skinny kid who looked like he belonged in a Depeche Mode tribute band was playing a double-rack, with riffs that alternated between bouncy power chords that would have been at home on Van Halen’s 1984, and creepy riffs that were much more Trent Reznor. But more the former, interestingly.

Metal seems to have its forms, like any other genre. The singer must sing with a psycho, throat-rending growl/snarl. The guitarists must Get Down into a Stance, and from time to time everyone must seriously bang their heads. Sometimes in unison, which produces a more powerful effect. Fans must mosh (though there was a good deal of checking to see if the guy you just slammed was OK if you hit him too hard… cute). And the F-word is very, very important. If the F-bomb frequency drops below about 8.5 per minute, I suspect your metal cred begins to suffer, no matter how righteously you can dish out the pain.

All in all, it was a most enjoyable evening. The drive over was pleasant, the drive back was lovely, and cruising around the streets of Harlingen looking for the club reminded me of previous weekend-evening excursions to that town, and the way the teens and young adults seem to have evolved loitering into a fine art. Seriously. Almost every block seems to have a group of people, with their cars, parked in a lot of some kind, standing around and talking, drinking, and/or seriously inspecting each other’s subwoofers and cylinder bores (both literally and figuratively, from what I could tell). It was eerie, like a scene from The Outsiders, but also interesting. This Valley is not such a bad place.

unrelated Moses picture

So I was websurfing, looking for Pixies tabs, when I stumbled across the following, in a bass tab for “Isla de la Encanta”:

You really should be abel

to tell when to play what. 

Is that not some awesome stuff? It’s unintentionally haiku-esque. It’s profound. It’s just plain good advice. I especially like the (probably also unintentional, but still cool) alternate spelling of “able.” The line break is even in the original!

In other news, Alex and I saw Hellboy 2 last night.

Review: meh. sokay. 2 1/2 stars (out of 4).

Billy of Dark Mean Lays down a groove

 Last night was a lot of fun. Constant K went well, and beforehand I realized that — now that I am no longer an actohr, I can hang out and watch the musicians play their sets before the shows. Dark Mean was completely great. I like their sound. It reminds me of The Ocean Blue, Radiohead, etc. Then, we wandered to the Spotted Pig pub in Hamilton, and hung out while a really excellent man named Ted regaled us with his tunes. Then he let us Play and sing, and then there was dancing and general good times… very  nice.

Pic of the day: Three people and a muppet. for some reason.

I’m supposed to be working. Right this minute. But I’ve just spent an hour reading through the (for me) interesting back columns on Measure for Measure, the NYT’s (thankfully non-subscription) blog about songwriting, by songwriters. Okay, so i went there just for Suzanne Vega’s recent piece, but I ended up reading a whole bunch of stuff. Yay! Songwriting! I should do some more of that, someday… my songs are getting stale, like cookies left in the cupboard too long. And I should write about something other than the ups and downs of dating, since I no longer have any dating ups or downs. I do have a song about a dead possum. And some snarky songs about politics. I could become this generation’s roadkill/protest singer. I shall get right to work on that.

Anyway, as I was saying, I have lots of work to do. None of it (sadly; so sadly) has anything at all to do with writing, singing, or even listening to songs.

Sigh. I think I need some Suzanne Vega, now. Yay, MP3s!

The White Stripes’ Fell in Love With a Girl is not about a regular ol’ romance. It’s probably about a gay guy falling in love with a girl. Right? Bobby isn’t her boyfriend; he’s his boyfriend.

…Bobby says it’s fine; he don’t consider it cheating…

But I’m still good at some things. Like, um…

I’ll get back to you.

so. awesome. Stuff like this makes me miss my days of improv, theater, music, and messing with people in public places…

Unrelated Awesome Quot(ation):

Ah, emo — the men’s movement of punk, in which rough boys whose fathers read Iron John in the bathroom grew sensitive while strumming VERY LOUDLY on guitars.

(source: emusic)

 

 Mr. Irrigation Canal, direct light is not your friend.

Friday night, I saw the UTPA Dance Ensemble Fall Concert. Three pieces.

The first was just phenomenally awesome. The soundtrack was composed of old, misogynistic radio and TV ads, a Bing Crosby piece (maybe?), and something jazzy and awesome that sounded like Django Rinehart on guitar. The dancers (all female), using spinning stools as props and dressed in identical polka-dot short dresses, created a highly kinetic melange of war-era pinup poses, glamor-girl smiles, burlesque moves and what I thought were more abstracted references to female gender roles. As the piece progressed, there were increasingly visible indications of the shallowness of the facades, such as the dancers lifting and posing each other like dolls or mannequins. Oh, and there was lots and lots of sultry cigarette smoking, with some serious coughing at the end. Also they sometimes flew around, airplane style, on their stools :)

The second piece was set to the Titanic theme, and involved some fairly predictable and derivative–but sweet and romantic–choreography. There seems to be a gender-change operation in there somewhere, as well as a lesbian love affair, but I suspect (given the nature of the rest of the piece) that these are not what the choreographer was going for.

The third piece (the one of resistance, you know) was my friend Melinda Blomquist’s MFA choreography work. I saw it in an earlier form last Spring, and now it’s even more awesome. Traditional hymns with a lot of vocals, an a capella Lila Downs piece, and some other touching music with gorgeous allegorical dance involving women with a white sash. The white sash begins around their waists, and they all struggle (sometimes violently) to get it off. Lots of repeated themes: jerky struggling-type motions, progressions of one hand up the other arm (sort of reminiscent of David Byrne in his “Once in a Lifetime” period),  women lifting each other up and falling back down, and too many more to remember or mention. One by one, the dancers remove the sash, and the tone of the dancing shifts from tortured to jubilant. The themes of trials, mutual support, faith, and overcoming are powerful. I get all verklemt just thinking about it. Continue reading →

OK, here’s some sweet swing I found while randomly surfing. The music is (lemme see if I got this right) the Pipkins(?) “Gimme Dat Ding.” The dances are awesome. I can identify some excellent Lindy, some marvelous Balboa, and a little jazzed-up East Coast, but I can’t identify about half the dances. Doesn’t matter. They all look great.

#1: Best… Star Wars… Theme… EVAR. There’s an accordion and they’re from Ontario. Click the mp3 link on the site. You will not be disappointed.

#2: This should have been obvious, so why didn’t I think of it?

#3: Funny note from Fake Steve Jobs, about Microsoft’s recent strategy of paying “journalist” bloggers to plug their products:

…I’m proud to say that here at Apple we don’t pay off bloggers and hacks; we go to the trouble of hypnotizing them. It’s a lot more work, but we think it’s worth it.

Heh.

#4: From PhD Comics. It’s totally the honest truth. I live the life.

PhD Comic... doublespeak.

1 – Alex and I had a marvelous time in Washington, DC. We saw many fluffy animals at the National Zoo, and ate many delicious breakfasts at the Hilton (which made up for some of the other lameness of that hotel, like no free internet access). Alex even made a YouTube video of her experience with a meerkat. The best part is Alex telling a story about another meerkat trying to eat some grass. For some reason, that makes me laugh out loud.

2 – After many moons of not recording anything, I finally recorded a song that a couple of friends have been asking me to get down on tape. Or CD. Or mp3. Or whatever. Alex has approved, and my cousin (the protagonist and subject of the song) also approves. So I’m linking it. Here it is. Don’t be afraid to be the sixth or seventh person to ever hear it. And prepare yourself for the auditory joy of a song recorded in my apartment.

I need a garage. Because there’s not really a cult following for musicians who have that unique “spare bedroom that is actually a very messy office and also sometimes recorded in the bathroom” sound.

(hint: if clicking the link isn’t working, try right-clicking and choosing “save target as” or “save link as” to download it to your HD for repeated listening, over and over and over and over and over…)

This post may sound like a joke, but it’s not. It’s about a song that has given me very bad feelings and sometimes nightmares for 27 years. But I deal with trauma through sarcasm. I recommend the practice to anyone.

I heard the song dozens of times when I was about 10. You know how it is: you learn the lyrics because the tune is catchy, or because it’s always on the family cassette player, and only later do you reflect on what the lyrics actually mean. Continue reading →

Yesterday was memorable. Mostly for good reasons. Daytime was a blur, but in the evening we had Squidley over for some mac & cheese and coleslaw. He provided the very delicious apple pie. It was yum. Then we played a game of Settlers of Catan, in which my honeylovemuffin opened a rift in our marriage that will last for eons by depriving my two pathetically small settlements of needed resources to compete with the squidley menace on my borders, so she could build up the already-thriving society she had created through sheer luck, and crush me (and squidley) like a bug.

Then xenologue, squidley, urbanepleb and I headed to Toronto to see Flotilla, a completely awesome band created by Xenologue’s brother and his girlfriend. Continue reading →

Christmas was a mighty fine experience. I’ll need to do aerobics for a month to lose the weight, but it was lots of fun. Alex’s family are good people, and pleasant to be with. I got to hear Veronica and Geoff of Flotilla play/sing some of their gorgeous stuff. I got delicious meals and snacks. I got some presents (Alex is a most excellent gift-giver, and the gifts from others were very thoughtful, too), and I got to spend lots of time with Alex.

We went to Midnight Mass with our friend Amanda, and we got to sing “What Child Is This” at church (and at Amanda’s house for her parents). All in all, a most delightful holiday. Oh, and Amanda gave me a gift certificate for a sporting goods store, so I can get some hockey skates. Sweet! That’s on the list for today. She and Alex seem to be under some weird impression that I’ll need to learn how to move forward when I’m on the ice, despite the fact that I’ve reassured them that I used to skate a lot (so I think I’ll only fall five or six times in horribly embarrassing ways before I get the hang of it again). And now it’s time to go back to nappy time.