Do yourself a favor and watch some movie from the late '80s that you know you've seen, but you don't really remember much about. My choice for tonight is Throw Momma From the Train. The risky part of telling you this is that I haven't actually tested this notion. I'm about to, and the cool part is that I think it might actually be pretty fun and funny, still.
There was that weird bunch of comedies that were neither too heavy nor too light; they featured great acting by solid actors, fairly good writing, and always at least one hilarious scene that most people my age (almost 36—eep) will recall with great enthusiasm. Picture Danny DeVito shouting "You lied to me!" and clocking Billy Crystal in the face with a frying pan, or Jim Belushi descending into madness after some fairly outrageous moments in The Man with One Red Shoe, a lesser-known Tom Hanks gem.
When I revisit something that I haven't seen in a while, I am amazed and delighted by how much I have forgotten. I suppose that's one upside to the impending memory loss of old age.
"What's this called? Toothpaste? This shit is AWESOME!"
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
Page Ten
Do yourself a favor and listen to more hip-hop. Start with the basic big names right now: Li'l Wayne, Akon, T-Pain, Plies, Kanye, and of course, Ludacris.
Beyonce gets her own line. Right here. She's owning things right now.
Here's what's badass about hip-hop. Collaboration. We crackers get so caught up in thinking that this is the music of selfish, materialistic gangsters that we completely overlook the fact that these artists are so committed to putting out the best music possible that they will work together in what seem like endless combinations to constantly keep the listener happy.
The other aspect of this genre that just blows my mind is its unwavering demand for quality. You music "fans" out there who are so proud of the fact that you will listen to "anything but new country and rap" consider these exclusions to be proof of how discriminating you are, but if your favorite hipster band were to put out a Shit Sandwich, you would be terrified of being the one person out there who admitted that the record sucked. You live in fear of someone, twenty years from now, saying, "You! You were the one person who didn't like that sixth Fleet Foxes record that is now hailed as a visionary masterpiece by the kids in Silverlake (or whatever part of town will be the hip part of town in twenty years.)!"
The point is this: a few months ago, VIBE magazine named, after an in-depth, reader-driven competition, Eminem as the Rapper of the Year. A lot of people took issue with this, but no one could deny that he was surely a valid candidate for the title. So, Eminem is riding high on most everybody's happy list, but if Eminem were to put out a crappy single or, even worse, a whole album of poop, HIS ASS WOULD HEAR ABOUT IT. The fans and the critics would demand more. Apologies would be called for, and his version of that apology would be another album that schooled everybody off the court. The fans would have spoken, and the artist would have upped his game, knowing that a bad single doesn't get played at the club, doesn't get played on the radio, and doesn't make him the shitload of cash he was hoping to make this year.
So quit worrying about whether or not your friends will no longer view you as a pure Gram Parsons fan if you suddenly dive into Snoop, or if you will be asked to step down from the presidency of the Ray LaMontagne fan club for bumpin' Luda out of your vintage Volvo.
And as a bonus favor to yourself: Watch Beyonce videos over and over and over...
Beyonce gets her own line. Right here. She's owning things right now.
Here's what's badass about hip-hop. Collaboration. We crackers get so caught up in thinking that this is the music of selfish, materialistic gangsters that we completely overlook the fact that these artists are so committed to putting out the best music possible that they will work together in what seem like endless combinations to constantly keep the listener happy.
The other aspect of this genre that just blows my mind is its unwavering demand for quality. You music "fans" out there who are so proud of the fact that you will listen to "anything but new country and rap" consider these exclusions to be proof of how discriminating you are, but if your favorite hipster band were to put out a Shit Sandwich, you would be terrified of being the one person out there who admitted that the record sucked. You live in fear of someone, twenty years from now, saying, "You! You were the one person who didn't like that sixth Fleet Foxes record that is now hailed as a visionary masterpiece by the kids in Silverlake (or whatever part of town will be the hip part of town in twenty years.)!"
The point is this: a few months ago, VIBE magazine named, after an in-depth, reader-driven competition, Eminem as the Rapper of the Year. A lot of people took issue with this, but no one could deny that he was surely a valid candidate for the title. So, Eminem is riding high on most everybody's happy list, but if Eminem were to put out a crappy single or, even worse, a whole album of poop, HIS ASS WOULD HEAR ABOUT IT. The fans and the critics would demand more. Apologies would be called for, and his version of that apology would be another album that schooled everybody off the court. The fans would have spoken, and the artist would have upped his game, knowing that a bad single doesn't get played at the club, doesn't get played on the radio, and doesn't make him the shitload of cash he was hoping to make this year.
So quit worrying about whether or not your friends will no longer view you as a pure Gram Parsons fan if you suddenly dive into Snoop, or if you will be asked to step down from the presidency of the Ray LaMontagne fan club for bumpin' Luda out of your vintage Volvo.
And as a bonus favor to yourself: Watch Beyonce videos over and over and over...
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Page Nine
Do yourself a favor and watch Star Wars with a four-year-old.
This little exercise in patience will teach you a lot about the proper way to explain situations the first time you encounter them.
Let me explain. No, let me sum up: Five minutes after I told my daughter that yes, in fact, the guys in white armor and helmets are always bad, two of them took off said white helmets to reveal that they were Luke and Han, whom I had already told her are always good. I had some summing up to do.
That's all. I'll have another page later tonight, Lord willin' and if the creek don't rise.
This little exercise in patience will teach you a lot about the proper way to explain situations the first time you encounter them.
Let me explain. No, let me sum up: Five minutes after I told my daughter that yes, in fact, the guys in white armor and helmets are always bad, two of them took off said white helmets to reveal that they were Luke and Han, whom I had already told her are always good. I had some summing up to do.
That's all. I'll have another page later tonight, Lord willin' and if the creek don't rise.
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