tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1807846533651752192024-03-14T03:14:17.260-04:00My 2¾'sBecause "My Three Cents" was both pretentious and taken.Alex and Alexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10645304082657720614noreply@blogger.comBlogger172125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180784653365175219.post-66196526587165490662012-02-07T09:36:00.006-05:002012-02-07T10:35:45.585-05:00Daily Update #25: "We came to see the mobscene"<span style="font-weight: bold;">[This entry was written amidst a sub-Third Reich display of Neanderthalic fandom for the New York Giants outside my office on Broadway that gave off increasingly bad vibes.]</span><br /><br /><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/9CkHXxlzDcg" allowfullscreen="" width="560" frameborder="0" height="315"></iframe><br /><br />Eighty minutes until this goddamned parade starts and they're already stirring up a chorus of shouts, boos, whoops, hollers, and a few female screams that, given the recent spate of sexual crimes in the city, are certainly jarring. All this in honor of a group of guys they've never met, will probably never meet, and all they did was move a ball from point A to point B better than the other guys.<br /><br />I watched the game, and it was compelling. Everyone likes the sort of white-knuckled competition. I didn't even go into it rooting for a team, but I still found it fascinating.<br /><br />I'm not anti-sports at all...but I'm definitely anti-sports fans. If Morrissey really wants to denounce a group of people as a "sub-species," rather than turn to the Chinese, how about he takes a look at our football/soccer hooligans? Continued chants, warbled like the masses in <span style="font-style: italic;">Triumph of the Will</span>, jump right up to us on the third floor.<br /><br style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;">"Let's go Giants!" *Clap-clap, clap-clap-clap* (8x)</span><br style="font-style: italic;"><br style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;">"Hey Jets! YOU SUCK!" (4x)</span><br /><br />In a perfect world, the Lord above would hear my prayers that the Occupiers would come and crash the parade, armed only with gigantic mirrors to hold up to the crowds, literally giving them the chance to reflect upon who and what they really are. It could single-handedly usher in a cultural renaissance where we become a nation that actually practices self-awareness and accountability.<br /><br />Then again, they'd probably get torn to shreds, like a flock of gazelles wearing steaks on their backs trotting into a lion's den. At least they'd have the mirrors to break into shards as a means of self-defense. Not that it would help them too much, since a lot of them are strictly nonviolent.<br /><br />But in reality, one placard-waving hipster shows up and they'll get maced, tased, and booed back to their trust-funded apartment in the 'Burg.<br /><br />It's only gotten louder. One hour to go and I'm taking aspirin with my morning coffee. They'll be coming up Broadway from Bowling Green, and upon arriving at City Hall will receive the key to the city from His Dishonor, who will give a verbally rousing but visually austere speech about how these athletes represent everything that is good about our city, all while the City University of New York faces crippling tuition hikes, gentrification continues to displace and disenchant all but the wealthiest and whitest, and the derelicts that usually populate this segment of lower Manhattan are conspicuously absent.<br /><br />No matter. To this army of identical revelers - overweight chumps with immaculately trimmed chinstrap beards, diamond-stud earrings, and aviators, paired with a barrage of blonde bimbos with orange skin, unnaturally white teeth, and eating disorders - the athletes really <span style="font-style: italic;">do</span> represent some warped rendition of the American Dream™, a world of opulent living as a reward for little more than a specialized skill.<br /><br />I suppose it's unavoidable. We think of the negative side of sports and we have images of NASCAR, beer guts, wives serving up nachos for her husband and "the guys," and the parochialism that these championships inspire. At least the chance of a truly violent riot is remote compared to the soccer crowd in South America or Europe.<br /><br />But still, I'd have a great view.Alex and Alexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10645304082657720614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180784653365175219.post-33641072331850326922011-11-09T21:18:00.003-05:002011-11-09T22:12:58.299-05:00Daily Update #24: Journey To The Center Of The Mind<iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/wPmiL76V8A8" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" width="420"></iframe><br /><br />Rereading everything from the late spring and early summer of 2010, I have to say I really was a bit of a mess. It's funny now to look back and see how all that rambling about Sikhism and trying to find "the answer" rapidly devolved into me staving off loneliness with my daily updates. Those really were some weird dreams that young man was having during that period...poor fella.<br /><br />It's interesting to note that as soon as he/I found some solace in a steady girlfriend, he/I fell off the map. Don't feel bad, readers (all zilch of you - and for the first time I'm not saying that as a joke, I'm convinced that literally no one is reading this), I didn't just abandon you. I abandoned a lot of places and people, for better.<br /><br />No "for worse." It was all for the better. Even with the blog - spend too much time in a venue like this and you'll find yourself way too far in your own head...which is fine every now and again as a way of confronting oneself with some difficult, introspective, and even existential questions. But do it daily and you'll become a monk - and I'm too much of a fan of the world and its inhabitants to endorse asceticism. Deep thinkers, whether religious or otherwise, belong among the people.<br /><br />It got bad for a while there...casual hookups, drinking and smoking a little too much and a little too often...I'd seen people with real problems and I always knew that I had some control over myself.<br /><br />And that's what they all say.<br /><br />After a casual hookup on a Saturday afternoon that turned into a sleepover (my guest missed her ride home for the evening), I drank and smoked...let's just say a lot...that Sunday evening. Long story short, I'm convinced the Reaper himself tapped me on the shoulder, panting, to say, "Hey, man, you gotta slow down." I fainted.<br /><br />At the top of a flight of stairs.<br /><br />Lucky for me, I fell backwards instead of forwards. All I can remember before it happened is that I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open. During what I simply perceived as a prolonged blink, I remember opening my eyes and everything being a shade of yellow. I saw Shelley. She said something to me, but I can't remember it.<br /><br />Then I opened my eyes for real. I had a throbbing pain in the back of my head and neck, realizing I'd fallen backwards, hit my head on the brick wall, and had been lying on my back. I slowly sat up, shaky and sweaty and probably concussed. Clinging to the bannister like my life depended on it - and it probably did - I made my way down the stairs to the bathroom, where I puked until only water was coming up.<br /><br />I told no one.<br /><br />A friend gave me a ride home, and still slightly high I decided to watch <span style="font-style: italic;">The Magic Christian</span>. I got about 35 minutes into it before I finally went to sleep.<br /><br />Not to propose a true delusion of grandeur, but my fall reminded me of Bob Dylan's motorcycle accident - details vary as to how badly he was hurt, but he clearly used it as a way to escape the public eye for the better part of 18 months. It was a wake-up call of sorts for him, to lay off the speed and settle down.<br /><br />It's not the same at all, but evocative enough that I felt it bore mentioning. For me, cracking my head (and still getting chills when I think of <span style="font-style: italic;">what if I had fallen forward</span>) was my wake-up call. This all happened between Daily Update #14 (6/9) and #15 (6/15).<br /><br />Just a couple of days after that, I got a message on OkCupid from a girl who used the handle "filmstress" that started "Valley girl, she's a valley girl...I grew up loving that song!"<br /><br />That was Chelsea. She's the girl I was glowing about those last couple times we spoke - an "unknown unknown." I can't believe I even tried to be so strategic about finding a steady girlfriend. She came out of nowhere, and the more we got to know each other, the better it got. Like many young men in love, I let this preoccupy my world while I continued working for the Census Bureau throughout June and July.<br /><br />I promised myself I would do things differently, and at that point in my life I felt that included putting an end to maintaining this blog along with the one with album reviews on it.<br /><br />For another cliffhanger, I <span style="font-style: italic;">did</span> gain an outlet for my writing...more on that later.Alex and Alexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10645304082657720614noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180784653365175219.post-39233701373679145882011-11-08T10:21:00.004-05:002011-11-08T11:28:36.064-05:00Daily Update #497: Another Day Of Living<span style="font-family: georgia;">Hello, how are you?<br /><br /><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/EIVqVvGy9ko?rel=0" allowfullscreen="" width="420" frameborder="0" height="315"></iframe><br /><br />Here it comes, the standard "it's been too long!" intro before I wax poetic on how groovy life has been these past 16 months, like a prolonged conversation I'd have with a former high school classmate, the one you never expected to bump into, but there you are, making a run to Wal-Mart to get some small grocery item for your mom and then you make that inevitable crossing of paths.<br /><br />"So, how are you?"<br /><br />I'm good, man. I'm good.<br /><<span style="font-style: italic;">Nervously swills beer, takes last gulp</span>><br /><br />Aaaaaaaaaaand scene!<br /><br />Too much has happened between that July afternoon and today for me to get you caught up to speed. Not just in my world, either, but in the world as a whole.<br /><br />Today, a pizza magnate is going on a book tour masqueraded as a run for the White House, Wall Street has had protestors camping out on it for two months, and this spate of revolutions in the Arab world is fulfilling Guru Townshend's prophesy of "Meet the new boss, same as the old boss," with the Egyptian military still firmly in control, the flag of Al Qaeda fluttering in Libya, and the highly probable invoking of Sharia law in these newly "liberated" countries.<br /><br />Oh, and Osama is dead.<br /><br />And me? Oh, you know...this and that. I work in Tribeca at the main office of a company that offers music lessons four days a week and one day a week I'm an adjunct professor at St. John's University up in Queens. Chelsea and I also cover the arts and entertainment beat for a women's website called Woman Around Town. We've done a lot of restaurant reviews, but the past couple weeks we've been branching out and doing press junkets. This usually means free entertainment, hors d'oeuvres, and drinks in exchange for some forced (but generally smooth) conversation. It's an even sweeter gig than it sounds.<br /><br />How did this all happen? I don't know...right place at the right time?<br /><br />Anyway, I'm coming back here because I've found myself oddly inspired. I write a lot about other people, other things, other places...but rarely about me. Over the past month and a half (give or take) we watched the entire series run of <span style="font-style: italic;">Six Feet Under</span>, and to be frank it kind of changed my world. It gave me a new lease on love, friendship, family, life, and death - and not a minute too soon.<br /><br />We'll go into details some other time. The pot of gold is that I've truly come to value my existence - "I just want to celebrate / Another day of living / I just want to celebrate / Another day of life."<br /><br />How did I get to that conclusion? Well, let's just hope the suspense is enough for you to come back later.<br /><br /></span><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/YzeAlXfFOl8?rel=0" allowfullscreen="" width="420" frameborder="0" height="315"></iframe>Alex and Alexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10645304082657720614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180784653365175219.post-32318982351104797182010-07-22T09:26:00.002-04:002010-07-22T09:31:33.326-04:00Daily Update #22: A Dream Come True<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xoe9aBnWuFg&hl=en_US&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xoe9aBnWuFg&hl=en_US&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />I have dreamed of this for years, but never quite thought it would be an actual scenario that would play out in real life. My girlfriend's dad is celebrating his birthday today.<br /><br />What, pray tell, did I get him? I burned him a CD of Zappa. Not because I'm one of those lunatics who goes "YOU HAVEN'T HEARD FRANK ZAPPA WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU I WILL BURN YOU SIX CD'S OF HIS MOST ESSENTIAL SONGS NO WAIT MAYBE I'LL JUST BURN YOU SEVEN TO MAKE SURE I DON'T MISS ANYTHING!" - though I might have been at one point.<br /><br />No, no, it's because he's a Zappa fan. Not a die-hard or anything, but he apparently has some records. So I made him a CD - just the one! - of my favorite Zappa tunes.<br /><br />AlexAlex and Alexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10645304082657720614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180784653365175219.post-69042270955973862832010-06-29T01:22:00.002-04:002010-06-29T01:28:30.596-04:00Daily Update #21: "Another Girl"<object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ogH6SqhiRM4&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ogH6SqhiRM4&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object><br /><br />Well...the first date I talked about in the last entry, an "unknown unknown" that just sort of popped up, is now officially my girlfriend. And I'm her boyfriend. (Got to reciprocate.)<br /><br />She's very vivacious, constantly smiling, we make each other laugh...things are good.Alex and Alexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10645304082657720614noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180784653365175219.post-1626773325275017662010-06-22T02:30:00.002-04:002010-06-22T02:35:12.657-04:00Daily Update #20: "I've Just Seen A Face"<object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/SbKGsEK_T9g&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/SbKGsEK_T9g&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object><br /><br />...but then I have a night like tonight, and suddenly everything just seems right with the world.<br /><br />It was just a first date, but it was just what I needed. Someone with a big, contagious smile, laughs a lot, similar interests, and um...as interested in me as I am her.<br /><br />This is nice.<br /><br />AlexAlex and Alexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10645304082657720614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180784653365175219.post-11963799658821124582010-06-21T19:12:00.002-04:002010-06-21T19:14:39.371-04:00Daily Update #19: "A Rock And A Hard Place"<object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OyTLuith1Qs&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OyTLuith1Qs&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object><br />You know what is both a blessing and a curse? Morally ambiguous situations. I'm glad things are never just black or white, but at the same time - at least for an indecisive boob like me - weighing one's options is torture.<br /><br />Damn that free will, huh?<br /><br />Alex<br /><br />PS - Happy birthday Ray Davies!Alex and Alexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10645304082657720614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180784653365175219.post-20977876232565078222010-06-21T04:55:00.001-04:002010-06-21T04:58:05.442-04:00Daily Update #18: "Old Man"<object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/DZtJqDIom5Q&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/DZtJqDIom5Q&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object><br /><br />This song still haunts me - in a good way - no matter how many times I hear it.<br /><br />I talked to Dad for over an hour tonight, wishing him a Happy Father's Day, updating on some things going on in my life before a really nice chat about religion. We don't believe in the exact same things, but we're on the same page.<br /><br />AlexAlex and Alexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10645304082657720614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180784653365175219.post-7428847217683411772010-06-20T03:57:00.002-04:002010-06-20T04:08:18.006-04:00Daily Update #17: "C'mon And Take It Easy..."<object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9lngGPsJ1pQ&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9lngGPsJ1pQ&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object><br /><br />...on the other hand, what's the rush?<br /><br />AlexAlex and Alexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10645304082657720614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180784653365175219.post-73416901871093744382010-06-19T05:51:00.003-04:002010-06-19T06:07:17.708-04:00Daily Update #16: "Lollipop"<object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Pqcpt-BKZBM&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Pqcpt-BKZBM&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object><br /><br />Enjoy the new color scheme.<br /><br />Me, I'm waiting so patiently...to make a subtle Stones reference...hoping for a sign of where to go and what to do. Not that I'm afraid of taking risks, it's just I took a big one getting back with Shelley. Two and a half years later and we're on opposite sides of the country; save for maybe a polite visit because one or the other of us happens to be in the same town, we won't see much of one another ever again. I miss her as a friend and I miss the <span style="font-style: italic;">idea</span> of her as a partner, if that makes sense. Sometimes I still think of where things went wrong, and even though (or maybe even because) we're better off now I occasionally wonder if it was even worth pursuing. The $849 hole in my pocket for that engagement ring, plus the meager $65 I got pawning it, seem to say no...while all the good times we <span style="font-style: italic;">did</span> have seem to say yes and that I'm a damn fool for asking.<br /><br />Okay, maybe I'm a little afraid of taking risks.<br /><br />There <span style="font-style: italic;">is</span> a safe option. A guaranteed winner, without much difficulty. But it's average. Decidedly average. The less certain option is a definite - now to cite Donald Rumsfeld - a "known unknown." But I like what I've seen. Easily more of a risk, maybe even a little dangerous. Then there's all the "unknown unknowns" out there, ones yet to be encountered. All I know is that each is enticing, but I really can't see myself pursuing the safe bet. Not to come across as haughty, but I feel like I need to hold out. See what lies ahead.<br /><br />I wish I could just look five years into the future and ask myself what's going on, who I'm with (and if I'm married), and how I'm doing.<br /><br />Sorry. This means nothing to you.<br /><br />AlexAlex and Alexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10645304082657720614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180784653365175219.post-12984954917829189462010-06-15T09:56:00.000-04:002010-06-17T03:43:19.116-04:00Daily Update #15: "Australia"<object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ef3beK367tA&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x234900&color2=0x4e9e00&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ef3beK367tA&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x234900&color2=0x4e9e00&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object><br />I had a wild and crazy dream last night that involved me hitchhiking in San Francisco; the people who picked me up (which included my ex) said they were eventually going to hit my hotel. But then, like in the movies, there was one of those scenes of a map with the tiny plane going from one place to another. The plane went from San Francisco to Tokyo to Manila to Australia. The song "Australia" by The Kinks played and there was this goofy montage of me, my ex, and some strangers having fun in Australia, which included me exclaiming "I don't even have a passport!"<br /><br />Weird, right?Alex and Alexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10645304082657720614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180784653365175219.post-44635044237231332892010-06-09T15:58:00.002-04:002010-06-09T16:03:23.800-04:00Daily Update #14: "Speak Now Or Forever Hold Your Peace"<object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pv1zu79377A&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pv1zu79377A&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">(Not going to lie, for a band that didn't specialize in covers, Cheap Trick knocked it out of the park anytime they DID do a cover. This is no exception. This feels like a demo.)</span><br /><br />Is it wrong that, in spite of the fact that I don't intend on getting married anytime soon, I still get upset and maybe just a little bummed when I see someone I know (especially if they're younger than me) has taken the plunge?<br /><br />AlexAlex and Alexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10645304082657720614noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180784653365175219.post-3683546511333206062010-06-06T15:18:00.002-04:002010-06-06T15:30:58.522-04:00Daily Update #13: "I Had Too Much To Dream Last Night"<object width="580" height="360"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ItDSim_1KEg&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ItDSim_1KEg&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="580" height="360"></embed></object><br /><br />I'd love to know what's causing me to have such weird dreams. It has to be the heat. First of all, my school was more like a high school than a college. I had to retake part of my final for Style Criticism by writing about one of Chopin's Mazurkas - which I had no problem with - and then I was with a study group of students who all matched the characters from <span style="font-style: italic;">Community</span>, except it was people I knew from Brooklyn College.<br /><br />And apparently I was the Jeff Winger character. The smart-ass. I guess that works.<br /><br />Anyway, I woke up thinking it was real. But it wasn't.<br /><br />AlexAlex and Alexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10645304082657720614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180784653365175219.post-81579539043169743922010-06-05T17:24:00.003-04:002010-06-05T17:32:27.672-04:00Daily Update #12: "Lightning Strikes"<object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gma5IUNMTn0&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gma5IUNMTn0&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object><br /><br />I had a fantastic date the other night. We went to Staten Island, talked about bodily functions, ate Sri Lankan food, wandered around some more, headed back to Manhattan, and then brown-bagged vodka and orange-pineapple-banana juice on a stoop in the Financial District until 5AM, occasionally shooing away rats and cockroaches. We only ended things because the sun was coming up, otherwise we could have stayed there for quite some time.<br /><br />It was awesome. Hopefully I'll see her again soon.<br /><br />And how was Staten Island? This deliciously weird hybrid of Bloomington, Brooklyn, and Louisville.<br /><br />AlexAlex and Alexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10645304082657720614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180784653365175219.post-791793724942385502010-06-03T12:10:00.002-04:002010-06-03T12:15:05.991-04:00Daily Update #11: "In Dreams"<object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zbxsmcT7GOk&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zbxsmcT7GOk&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object><br /><br />In my dream last night, I was stuck in a car with Shelley and her dad, waiting for the right moment to break up with her and to tell him off. Oh, and I was also apparently still in high school?<br /><br />So, in other words, I had a nightmare.<br /><br />AlexAlex and Alexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10645304082657720614noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180784653365175219.post-88991558778683741742010-06-01T03:43:00.006-04:002010-06-01T04:19:15.339-04:00Daily Update #10: 'Rubber Soul'<object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/N3cUejOltsA&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x234900&color2=0x4e9e00&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/N3cUejOltsA&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x234900&color2=0x4e9e00&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object><br /><br />I talked with my friend Andrew for about two and a half hours. We had a lot to catch up on. Among the highlights were that he'd gone on a date and my recent exploits. Our conversation ended with us comparing mix CD's we'd made for girls in our respective lives. I went into "serious Alex" mode and offered some encouragement, the kind of stuff I've ruminated on here on this blog. Stuff like how he should just take things easy, and understand (as I'm trying to) that failure, striking out, and things ending up differently than one expected are all a part of life. Plain and simple.<br /><br />"Learn to enjoy losing."<br />- Hunter S. Thompson<br /><br />Anyway, he mentioned "If I Needed Someone" being on his list, which got me listening to <span style="font-style: italic;">Rubber Soul</span> at this late hour. "Nowhere Man" is on now...and in spite of everything going on in my life, I'd be lying if I said this song hasn't put a lump in my throat. It's not that I am a nowhere man anymore - I certainly have a point of view and know where I'm going to, thank you very much - but I look back at the point in my life where I referred to this song as my anthem.<br /><br />It was never really that bad. I was just being dramatic. Then again, Shelley did help give me a sense of purpose. Before I met her I'd had a series of one-night stands, a fairly abusive (and thankfully short) relationship with an arrogant, anorexic, man-hating, and bi-curious feminist. I'd really thought I was shit. But then came someone who told me I wasn't. It was the right person, at the right place, at the right time.<br /><br />Say what you/I/they will about Shelley, that's one indisputable fact that can't be ignored.<br /><br />I need to stop thinking girls are "out of my league." I'm learning more and more that I may be surprised. I need to stop thinking I'm boring. I mean, shit, at this point I've been green-lit to do a thesis on Frank Zappa's music. That's not boring. Plus, I do have a sense of humor...and people seem to like that. At least, the people who actually get my jokes. I don't have time for the ones who don't.<br /><br />That last paragraph is because I let someone know that I had a straight-up crush on them, but that I'd assumed she was "out of my league."<br /><br />My Facebook status right now:<br />"Listening to 'Rubber Soul' in the dark after a two and a half hour conversation with [...]. This moment would be considerable if there was some incense, a bottle of (decent) wine, and maybe someone else."<br /><br />Three things:<br />I definitely would like to emphasize that last part. I'm not perpetually lonely, at all. It's nice sleeping alone. It's nice to talk to myself in my room...to just have space to myself. But right now, it's the middle of the night on the tail-end of what was a three day weekend for the working world...and I could use some company.<br /><br />Second, there's a specific person I had in mind. Don't worry, if you're reading this, it isn't you. It's the girl I've gone out with on a few dates. I really like her a lot. We could just kick back on the floor, stare at the ceiling, and just enjoy a moment.<br /><br />Third, there's something else in that equation I voluntarily omitted thanks to my Mom being on Facebook. Grass. There. I said it. On my bucket list, among other things, is to get high and listen to <span style="font-style: italic;">Help!</span>, <span style="font-style: italic;">Rubber Soul</span>, and <span style="font-style: italic;">Revolver</span> back-to-back. I'm sure it will just be 90 minutes of laughter as opposed to some sort of deep, meaningful experience...but why not?<br /><br />In Andrew, I see a version of myself. He's closer overall to who I am on the inside. I'm a huge nerd, and I'm pretty shameless about that, I just happen to be pretty good at hiding it with aviator sunglasses, stubble, and long hair. But he's got a contagious passion for the things that interest him, he's got a big heart, and he's shy when it comes to girls. He's working on it.<br /><br />And so am I.<br /><br />Now "In My Life" is on. Love songs are weird to listen to when you have no one to dedicate them to. Still, a song like this, meditating on past friends, lovers, and places certainly brings all of the above to mind. I wonder how they're doing. I wonder what it will be like to see Bloomington again. My great fear is that things will just feel...<span style="font-style: italic;">different</span>. And not in a good way, like one of those poignant episodes of a decent show or in a movie or something where the hero goes back to revisit his past and finds nothing worth staying for.<br /><br />God, never mind there are two girls in Bloomington that, if they moved to New York, I would ask out in a heartbeat. I'd be a damn fool if I didn't look them up when I visited, right? Or would that be foolish, selfish, and inevitably bittersweet?<br /><br />...and I'm saying all of this right in time for "If I Needed Someone."<br /><br />"If I needed someone to love<br />You're the one that I'd be thinking of<br />If I needed someone<br /><br />If I had some more time to spend<br />Then I guess I'd be with you, my friend<br />If I needed someone<br /><br />Had you come some other day, then<br />It would not have been like this<br />But you see, now I'm too much in love"<br /><br />Chills down the spine, mate. Chills down the spine. I'd hate to actually be in a situation where these lyrics applied. It will happen eventually, right?<br /><br />Thank God that I don't have any old flames. I put those out a long time ago.<br /><br />Before I start boiling tea for this pity-party, I should do the right thing and put myself to bed. I've got some growing to do. Not growing up...that will come naturally. Just growing.<br /><br />What <span style="font-style: italic;">do</span> I want? That's a good question.<br /><br />AlexAlex and Alexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10645304082657720614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180784653365175219.post-73931818600280081832010-05-31T14:02:00.004-04:002010-05-31T14:45:17.015-04:00Daily Update #9: "Dedicated Follower[s] Of Fashion"<object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/KXaO3zgaf5Q&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x402061&color2=0x9461ca&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/KXaO3zgaf5Q&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x402061&color2=0x9461ca&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object><br /><br />I can't stand hipsters. Most of them, anyway. If they're nice, unpretentious people who have a flair for dressing/drinking/living kitschy, okay, fine. But the worst of the worst, the ones who swear by vinyl, the ones who will preach to you about why you need to ride a bicycle (even though they had to take a plane for their inevitable semester abroad - usually Paris), the ones who will try to guilt you for eating meat, the ones whose knowledge of a band is verbatim from the Pitchfork website...and they exist, I met quite a few of them as an undergrad...those are the ones I can't stand.<br /><br />One time at a Halloween party, I went as Zappa. Some hipster chick cornered me and tried to outshine me with her knowledge. I won the first round when I asked her if she'd heard <span style="font-style: italic;">Thing-Fish</span>. She had not. Things escalated when Captain Beefheart was brought up...yeah, yeah, she'd heard <span style="font-style: italic;">Trout Mask Replica</span>, and that's great. More people should. She told me how much she loved Beefheart and his whole aesthetic...then I asked if she'd heard <span style="font-style: italic;">Safe As Milk</span>, his first album.<br /><br />Her response? "No, are they new?"<br /><br />I won.<br /><br />Look, I'm not a music snob. At all. I will admit that, when challenged, I might grow fangs, but I don't like when people are "ashamed" to tell me what sort of stuff they're into, as if my taste is superior or something. It isn't. I've tried to make this my manifesto over at <a href="http://alexwritesaboutstuff.blogspot.com/">my review blog</a>. You like what you like, and sometimes you can explain it - "I think Zappa is funny and he writes good melodies" - and sometimes you can't - "Captain Beefheart...just needs to be heard to be believed."<br /><br />I'm especially not going to let someone whose knowledge of music is spoon-fed to them by various media outlets get away with such pretentious posturing.<br /><br />What I find most maddening, and I'm paraphrasing what I thought was a poignant, if a bit acrid, statement from the show <span style="font-style: italic;">Community</span>, is how many of them<span style="font-style: italic;"></span> have been able to see the world but still don't get it. I'm not an incredibly serious man, although my friend Luke pointed out that when I start talking history I go into "serious Alex" mode, and I'm sure as Hell not about to tell people how to live their lives.<br /><br />But I'm certainly allowed to see how much it clashes with my own value system and subsequently bitch about it. And they're entitled to the same.<br /><br />Having spent more time than normal this past weekend on the subway - specifically the L train - I got to see plenty of hipsters. And since I was out quite late, most of them were calling it a night.<br /><br />It wouldn't be entirely honest to say I didn't have some sense of <span style="font-style: italic;">schadenfreude</span>, knowing that some of the people I saw stumbling around the subway stations would go home and feel like shit in the morning. But there was a tugging sense of pathos. I wondered if they were so deluded that they would wake up, reflect on what they can remember from the previous night, and say that they had a great time. <span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:georgia;"> "I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by </span></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:georgia;">madness,<br />starving hysterical naked, </span><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:georgia;"> Dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn </span><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:georgia;"> looking for an angry fix, </span><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:georgia;"> Angel-headed hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly </span><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:georgia;"> connection to the starry dynamo in the machin</span></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:georgia;">ery of night, </span><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:georgia;"> Who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat </span><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:georgia;"> up smoking in the supernatural darkness of </span><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:georgia;"> Cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities, </span></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:georgia;">contemplating jazz..."</span></span><br />--- Allen Ginsberg, "Howl" (1956)<br /></div><br />He said it better than I ever could.<br /><br />Anyway, I took a quiz. I'm not a hipster.<br /><div style="text-align: center; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); margin: 10px; padding: 10px; width: 400px;"><br /><p><strong style="font-size: 150%;">Unhip</strong></p><br /><p>You're not trying to be hip and you don't give a shit what hipsters think about you. </p><br /><p><a href="http://www.thechurning.com/2009/01/07/personality-quiz-are-you-a-hipster/">Personality Quiz: Are you a hipster?</a></p><br /></div>Alex and Alexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10645304082657720614noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180784653365175219.post-47842100769977482702010-05-30T04:22:00.003-04:002010-05-30T04:41:29.041-04:00Daily Update #8: "Here Comes Summer"<object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/hvdx3mHuQks&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0xe1600f&color2=0xfebd01&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/hvdx3mHuQks&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0xe1600f&color2=0xfebd01&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object><br /><br />I promise I'll eventually stop dwelling on how stoked I am that school is out until September.<br /><br />Anyway, tonight was a good night. That's all I feel like saying.<br /><br />We went to a goodbye party for a friend of mine from IU who's going back home for a litany of reasons, including maybe going back to grad school out in - of all places - San Francisco. Of course, home for her is New Orleans, which is nothing to sneeze at either. I'd love to go back there again. It was a really enchanting place, and that's just based on wandering around the French Quarter with Dad. I'd love to see the rest of the city, good, bad, and ugly.<br /><br />It's a little sad to see one of my few connections to Bloomington (and until my friend got here for her summer internship, my only connection) going, but that's just how it goes. It's not like I'm without friends from school.<br /><br />On a related note, my friend Luke was approved for a Fulbright grant in Egypt. He and his wife Caity will be going in September. I have to say, they really were the first true friends we made here. It's going to be a real bummer to see them off, they're very kind and generous people.<br /><br />Also, go see <span style="font-style: italic;">City Island</span>. It's a great farcical comedy...really good. I laughed a lot.<br /><br />AlexAlex and Alexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10645304082657720614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180784653365175219.post-81503772162101211402010-05-29T01:45:00.003-04:002010-05-29T02:09:23.277-04:00Daily Update #7: "The Door Into Summer"<object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5BloxTCKwa4&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5BloxTCKwa4&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object><br /><br />Hello, summer, my old friend,<br />Should be nice to hang again.<br /><br />Man, oh, man, have I been anticipating the end of the semester for some time! The thought of summer in New York just seemed so remote, so far off, the light at the end of the tunnel...<br /><br />...okay, my semester wasn't that bad, but I was ready for it to end. I also hated the little teases of warmth we got in March and April, only to have it 35 degrees and rainy the next week. At least the weather here is simply bipolar, unlike Indiana weather, which has full-on schizophrenia.<br /><br />The transition from student-during-finals-mode to holy-shit-it's-summer mode was an easy one. Over the course of this week, I...<br /><br />+ Got to party on a yacht<br />+ Drank on a weekday during business hours twice<br />+ Used my insomniac skills in a non-academic setting<br />+ Replaced the Kenneth Anger DVD's that I lost in my could-have-been-a-divorce<br />+ Realized I now have a network of friends within the Conservatory, not just mere acquaintances<br />+ Left the house Thursday at 7PM and got back Friday at 10AM.<br />+ I might or might not have fallen asleep on the train and missed my stop, waking up at the West 8th Street/NY Aquarium stop. (Okay, I did.)<br /><br />And that's just the stuff I can talk about. (I can say no more.)<br /><br />I don't think I did anything close to this as an undergrad. Don't worry, I will not be making this a regular pattern of behavior; the fact is that I needed this. It was a means of releasing tension.<br /><br />Anyway, I've got my fourth date with a certain lady tomorrow. Things are just looking really good right now...and they have been for a while.<br /><br />AlexAlex and Alexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10645304082657720614noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180784653365175219.post-76956293529215469952010-05-26T14:22:00.003-04:002010-05-26T15:08:04.804-04:00Daily Update #6: "I'm Not What I Appear To Be"<object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tXHO7hScOCA&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0xe1600f&color2=0xfebd01&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tXHO7hScOCA&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0xe1600f&color2=0xfebd01&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">(Note: this is not a reflection of my current or recent mental state. I just like having music to go with my writing.<span style="font-style: italic;">)</span></span><br /><br />Someone said to me last week, "It's really cool you can get away with maybe doing your thesis on Zappa," and that kind of pissed me off...granted, I was polite about it, assuming this person had the best of intentions, but still. I don't think I'm "getting away" with anything in doing this. The guy was a clever songwriter and composer, and coverage of his works in writing have been plentiful...just not that good.<br /><br />There's the token "journalist with some sort of axe to grind" type of biographical sketch, and those are no fun. The worst is Barry Miles' book; he starts off painting a fairly good portrait of the man before getting downright mean in putting down anything Zappa did post-1972. In discussing the 1988 tour, where the entire band wanted Frank to fire bassist Scott Thunes because of his abrasive demeanor during rehearsals, Miles writes that Zappa wouldn't have thought twice about firing Thunes if he'd been doing drugs on the road. Shit like that just comes across as the author trying to get back at Zappa for some reason or another.<br /><br />And then there's the books written by fans. Some of it is borderline <span style="font-style: italic;">samizdat</span>-type publications, with at least two of my books rather mercilessly copying and pasting (with citations, mind you) from assorted Zappa sites.<br /><br />THEN there's the academic approaches. Ben Watson's <span style="font-style: italic;">The Negative Dialectics Of Poodle Play</span> comes really close in offering a great discourse on the material. However, there's also some head-scratching parallels that he suggests, such as "Dinah-Moe Humm" being inspired by one of John Ruskin's letters, or "Don't Eat The Yellow Snow" having something to do with <span style="font-style: italic;">King Lear</span>. Sometimes he needlessly overextends his analysis. Watson also falls into one of the great traps with die-hard fans of any artist: no other artist or musical group comes close. For no real reason at all, Watson trashes <span style="font-style: italic;">Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band</span> as a way of building up how <span style="font-style: italic;">We're Only In It For The Money</span> is a vastly superior record. He fails to acknowledge the latter would not have existed without the former, opting to make a sweeping generalization about the culture that embraced <span style="font-style: italic;">Pepper</span> rather than giving the album itself a fair assessment.<br /><br />It came out fairly recently, but Kelly Fisher Lowe's <span style="font-style: italic;">The Words And Music Of Frank Zappa </span>comes really close to being the best. It doesn't quite make it. I'm not saying one absolutely HAS to be a musician to successfully write about music, but Lowe's attempts at describing the music he's analyzing gets pretty amateurish. He also has little to say about Zappa's instrumental works, glazing over a substantial chunk of Zappa's output as a result. I don't like playing the "Oh, well, he clearly just doesn't get it" card, but his lack of appreciation for <span style="font-style: italic;">Burnt Weeny Sandwich</span> seems to stem more out of not appreciating the music, wondering instead where all the political or scatological lyrics are.<br /><br />And that's another problem: Lowe is too politically correct. Any time he discusses one of Zappa's potentially controversial songs, he distracts himself by justifying the content against contemporary mores. It gets in the way of his enjoyment of the music at times, denouncing "Carolina Hard-Core Ecstasy" as something that is sick and "not at all funny." I personally think he could have had a simple disclaimer in his foreword about how Zappa approached satire with a sense of carnivalesque humor. Making it as offensive as possible challenged the values of his listeners, causing them to wonder what makes it offensive to their ears.<br /><br />Then there's his foreword, where he bitches about how much of his book he had to amend because he committed the cardinal sin of letting Zappa's widow know about his book. There's a lot of dog-shit about "fair use" and "composer's intent," and even though Watson was able to quote screeds of lyrics throughout Zappa's canon, Lowe could at most cite three lines from a single song. I understand that most academic texts aren't exactly million-sellers. The book wasn't going to be in the display window at Barnes & Noble, so Lowe should have just had the book published.<br /><br />A tinge of melancholy hovers over the book, as Lowe passed away a year after its publication; first of all, he died young. Second, this means there won't be a revised edition, no chance for an intellectual discourse between the two of us, not even a chance for me to say, "Hey, I really did enjoy your book." It sucks.<br /><br />I haven't had a chance to give <span style="font-style: italic;">Dangerous Kitchen: The Subversive World Of Zappa</span> a serious read, but I remain optimistic.<br /><br />How did this turn into a literature review?<br /><br />Anyway, I don't think I'm "getting away" with anything in writing about rock and roll music, thank you very much. It's still not getting the proper treatment by academia, with a bunch of <span style="font-style: italic;">Rolling Stone</span>-minded goons on one side acting like rock and roll was theological text and that nothing by today's standards will ever beat the music that came out in [insert best year of said critic or scholar's life HERE], but then (and even worse) are the writers who denounce anyone who puts rock music on a higher shelf than pop music as a "rockist," implying that their tastes are racist and sexist simply because a majority of the rock genre was made by white middle-class males.<br /><br />It's like the assholes behind such rubbish as <span style="font-style: italic;">The Gospel According To The Beatles</span> (don't get me started) have already tilted the playing field, resulting in the other batch turning out such deliberately provocatively-titled books as <span style="font-style: italic;" class="h3color tiny"> </span><span style="font-style: italic;">How the Beatles Destroyed Rock n Roll: An Alternative History of American Popular Music</span>, which - go figure - even has five-star reviews on Amazon saying it's a good book with a deceptive and sensationalistic title.<br /><br />Not quite sure where I was going with this, but I think a middle ground exists. Frankly, I like acknowledging that Zappa, Lennon, and Hendrix were in fact mere mortals who had bad days and had their own dark sides. They weren't messiahs, they weren't anything more than men of extraordinary talent. Of course, I wouldn't spend my whole time focusing on that, it's just a point worth making. I like that pragmatic approach: The Beatles weren't the be-all, end-all for popular music. I recognize that.<br /><br />But it's material meritorious of studying. We can even incorporate post-modernism, tonal theory, and all that fun shit to make it legitimate.<br /><br />AlexAlex and Alexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10645304082657720614noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180784653365175219.post-20763261209653327622010-05-26T01:06:00.002-04:002010-05-26T01:13:28.763-04:00Daily Update #5: "Everybody needs an education"<object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wYFIm4y8F5o&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x234900&color2=0x4e9e00&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wYFIm4y8F5o&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x234900&color2=0x4e9e00&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object><br /><br />Well it's come to this: my ethnomusicology paper on The Plastic People Of The Universe. I about danced in the street when I checked the syllabus and saw the page requirement was 9 to 11 pages, not the 20 I had originally thought. This takes some of the pressure off.<br /><br />Speaking of pressure...<br /><object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/myJUOncX2Os&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/myJUOncX2Os&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object><br /><br />Boy howdy, I've got it. I'm not one to ever complain about any sort of ailment, but all this work has given me headaches and heartburn. I'm counteracting it with Maalox (which tastes like pool water) and Excedrin, which contains caffeine.<br /><br />Oh, and coffee. Lots of coffee.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"Thanks to all the mathematicians</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">And the inventors with their high IQ's</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">And the professors in their colleges</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Tryin' to feed me knowledge that I know I'll never use!"</span><br /><br />A pretty almighty fuck-you to the educational system, no?<br /><br />I can't even pretend to be all that defiant. I love school and I love learning. However, I also think this paper topic would be better as a dissertation.<br /><br />Someday.<br /><br />AlexAlex and Alexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10645304082657720614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180784653365175219.post-37571161006386565452010-05-22T17:38:00.003-04:002010-05-22T17:54:02.793-04:00Just Checking InJust so you all know, The Beatles are bigger than Jesus.<br /><br /><object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-7NoOhmVMac&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-7NoOhmVMac&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object><br /><br />I do like this song, too:<br /><object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Qn0-UVMT1OE&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Qn0-UVMT1OE&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object><br /><br />AlexAlex and Alexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10645304082657720614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180784653365175219.post-2157351488966807842010-05-20T03:28:00.002-04:002010-05-20T05:23:27.494-04:00Daily Update #4: "Sleepwalker"<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HSc3smOXOd4&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HSc3smOXOd4&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />It appears Dave Davies had mastered the whole blazer/t-shirt/jeans combination some ten years before I was even born. I shouldn't even try to think how much he'd already seen of the world by the time he was 23.<br /><br />Since I brought it up, though, by the time he was 23 he'd seen a lot of the world. He single-handedly invented metal by slashing the speaker cone of his amp with a razor, he'd enjoyed a #4 hit single in Europe as a solo artist ("Death Of A Clown"), The Kinks had gotten to tour all over Europe, Australia, North America, and (duh.) the UK, and he had just written "Strangers" and "Rats," two terrific songs from a terrific album.<br /><br />Of course, he also dropped out of high school, lived in a society where one could get a break in the music business without getting sodomized (literally or metaphorically) by Lou Pearlman or moonlighting as a Mouseketeer in exchange for a shot at the top, and (along with his bandmates) was banned from the US from 1965-1969. He was also smack-dab in a depressed period of his life, which involved consuming mass quantities of wine and hallucinogens, when he was my age.<br /><br />I'd say he and I are about even.<br /><br />Monday and Tuesday, due to my lack of sleep, morphed into a hybrid 38-hour day. We'll call it Muesday. (The considerably less creative, yet considerably more theologically tilted, bastardization of Sunday and Monday is Sonday.)<br /><br />Anyway, how are you?<br /><br />Today again, my friend Amy and I hit the books for our final. What was once a daunting "HOLYFUCKSHIT HOLYFUCKSHIT" task has simply been reduced to, "Dammit! I knew I was right the first time when I said it was one of Haydn's LATER pieces!" One more group study session to go - on Sunday - and then we'll be all systems go to say adios to a semester that has been, to say the least, eventful.<br /><br />But let's concentrate a bit more on recent history, shall we?<br /><br />Let's go back to Muesday. I was too pissed-off at the truly awful blast of gray/rain/wind that gone thrown at me...<br /><br />Once Amy left after our study session on Monday, I stayed up so late it got early finishing my paper, printing it off (and its appendices, of which there were eight), and burning CD's of listening material for my professor. Printing my papers involved a late-night hike to the campus computer lab. As I was coming back, it was all I could do to look around me and once again (happily) soak in my surroundings.<br /><br />Part of me misses those Endymion jaunts to the Herman B. Wells Library, whether it was the seven-minute walk from mine and Graham's place, the fifteen-minute walk from Shelley's place, or even the twelve-minute walk from Eric's house on the East side of campus that I took just about nightly during the hot muggy summer of 2007.<br /><br />I rested for a couple of hours, dealt with everything I mentioned in my previous entry, then went to class. It went well; I wonder if I can choose who is on my thesis committee, because the instructor I had for Philosophy of Music was a great guy. Knew his stuff, and always provided good comments on my exams. I told him to stay in touch, because I was eager to hear what he thought of my paper as well as the music I provided.<br /><br />Remember that girl I mentioned, the one whose grandparents are friends with my parents? Well, we met up for Indian food on the Upper East Side. She brought her roommate with her, an Indiana native. We both knew where the other was from, which after 9 months now of introducing myself to people and saying, "I'm from a small town in Indiana called Seymour. It's where John Mellencamp is from? No? Haven't heard of it...that's okay, you're not missing anything!" was a bit refreshing.<br /><br />Look, I need to stop getting so hung up over things I might not even need to get hung up over. Mom heralded this girl's arrival (for ease of reference, let's just call her Genevieve - a Kinks reference) so much that I couldn't help but be nervous. And have some preconceived notion about who she was before we even sat down and ate together.<br /><br />I don't even think she and I had so much as bumped into each other as undergrads; in fact, I only recall us meeting once, and we were in 9th grade. For whatever reason, I thought she'd be fairly straight-laced...as it would turn out I'm now wondering why I didn't actively pursue even a friendship with her while we were both at Indiana University.<br /><br />Oh, right. I was engaged.<br /><br />Anyway, I wish I could provide some sort of scenario that left me knowing full well how she felt about me...and, yes, how I feel about her (besides as a really great potential friend.) She's cute, she's smart, and she's interesting...but I have <span style="font-style: italic;">no idea</span> if we'd click, or if she's even interested. Plus, she's here for the summer. We've both got another year of school, too. I couldn't do long-distance unless I knew it would be worth it.<br /><br />And not that I'm ready to pledge my undying love for her, but the girl I've gone on some dates with - to make another Kinks reference, let's call her Victoria - is cute, smart, and interesting. The only difference is, I know she's interested. I got a random Facebook message from her saying she was thinking about me. It made me smile. When I texted her during my class that we got to listen to Neil Young and how suddenly my day was sucking less, she texted back "Nerd! :)"<br /><br />For all of the love songs out there, it's pretty hard to think of any like songs. Yes, there's "Bohemian Like You," which has a terrific chorus and a great riff...but the lyrics are stupid. It anticipated the rise of the hipster by about five years, all the shit about vegan food, one's ex crashing on the couch...throw in an extra verse about snorting coke off of a toilet seat in Williamsburg and/or something about both parties having spent a semester abroad and you'd be set.<br /><br />I wish I had a song for my situation with Victoria. Because I like her a lot. There is a dramatic shortage of songs that are about just <span style="font-style: italic;">liking</span> someone. It's all about love, sex, or the end of a relationship.<br /><br />Around 1AM Wednesday morning as I was reading in bed, one of my colleagues sent me a text asking if I was still up. Since I was, I told him I was and asked what was up. His response: "Friendship." So I got up out of bed, put on what I'd worn that day, and waited for him. I needed the interaction as much as he did.<br /><br />I told him about this thing with the two girls. He told me about some things going on in his life. We walked to the 7-11 on Avenue M for late-night beverages. And he left around 5:30.<br /><br />What do you know? That was 23 and a half hours ago.<br /><br />Oddly enough, I'm no closer to any sort of conclusion than I was the last time I talked about this. Can I really complain too much about this whole thing?<br /><br />I'm starting to bore <span style="font-style: italic;">myself</span> with all this drivel! Let's call it a night.<br />Alex<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">*It is a pretentious name, isn't it? She doesn't even look like a Genevieve...but "Sweet Lady Genevieve is such a great song. In fact, how about I play you out with it?</span><br /><object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/GqgNyYXTK4s&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0xe1600f&color2=0xfebd01&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/GqgNyYXTK4s&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0xe1600f&color2=0xfebd01&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object>Alex and Alexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10645304082657720614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180784653365175219.post-19285563921272475682010-05-18T13:10:00.002-04:002010-05-18T13:30:51.042-04:00Daily Update #3: "Fuck You (An Ode To No One)"<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/97sYm0Bkd3Y&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/97sYm0Bkd3Y&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />You know, some days you just wake up and have a slightly moody disposition. Could be that you just didn't get a good night's sleep. Could be that you had an unnerving dream. Not that this happens to me (and no, I'm not being sarcastic), but it could even be from a hangover.<br /><br />Or, some days you wake up from two hours' sleep to find gray skies, constant rain, and a text from your supervisor saying "Mandatory meeting @ 12.", and once you get there (and are consequently ignored for ten minutes) you're told you yourself didn't need to come in.<br /><br />In short, I'll state my grievances in an open letter.<br /><br />"Dear world,<br />Fuck you. I was cooped up in my apartment all weekend writing a 20-page essay while it was nice and sunny, not a cloud in sight. Then today I have to walk to the McDonald's - which, by the way, I had to go to McDonald's for this meeting - in the wind and the rain, only to be told I didn't need to show up.<br /><br />Couldn't have made it nice and sunny today? Couldn't have had it be shitty outside all weekend instead, when I didn't set foot outside of the house?<br /><br />You're a jerk, world. This is why you don't have any friends. Neptune isn't really busy with the wife and kids every time you call, he just sees it's you on the Caller ID and ignores you. You know why? Because you're a bringdown.<br /><br />Oh, and I wasn't supposed to tell you this, but Venus has been seeing both Mars <span style="font-style: italic;">and</span> Jupiter. At the same time, in fact. It's a pretty sick little threesome thing they have going on.<br /><br />Dictated, but not read,<br />Alex"<br /><br />Hopefully these bad vibes are something that can be corrected with coffee, a donut, and maybe even (let's face it, I've probably earned it) some ice cream.<br /><br />Don't judge me. I rarely eat junk food. The worst thing I regularly consume is Wheat Thins. Oh, the horror!<br /><br />AlexAlex and Alexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10645304082657720614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180784653365175219.post-91932211497203740902010-05-17T02:37:00.002-04:002010-05-17T03:01:23.721-04:00Daily Update #2: "Can You Dig It?"<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ywTtXwfuu_Y&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ywTtXwfuu_Y&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />"Can you dig it?<br />Do you know?<br />Would you care to let it show?"<br /><br />I'm not too big on Taoism, but this is a cool little song. I listen to The Monkees while editing an academic paper I wrote on Zappa, so what? Big whoop, wanna fight about it?<br /><br />I'm still getting all my citations together. The wireless here has had a pretty nasty case of hiccups this weekend. This isn't fun when a majority of your research is online. If it does this tomorrow, I'm doing my Ethnomusicology paper at the computer lab. That is almost completely dependent on materials online. I have a (VERY OVERDUE) book from the BC library called <span style="font-style: italic;">Rock Around The Bloc</span>, which I could get off of Amazon for the low price of $79. (When did this happen, by the way? Weren't books cheap at some point?!) The other book is a bunch of letters written by Vaclav Havel.<br /><br />Actually, I'll save that for tomorrow. Otherwise I might run out of things to talk about.<br /><br />Anyway, I had a hard time getting started today, so I watched some of the <span style="font-style: italic;">Daria</span> DVD box. I rarely purchase things like CD's or DVD's anymore - one thing I learned from Shelley was financial responsibility - but when I saw pre-orders were slashed from being about as expensive as <span style="font-style: italic;">Rock Around The Bloc</span> to just under $40, I couldn't pass it up. Such a great show...I always wished I could be like Trent. Not personality-wise, I clearly have more ambition...but he just looks cool. Pierced and tattooed. I can only wish. Tattoos are stupid expensive.<br /><br />Besides, what would I get? Tribal ink is out, mainly because I'm not a douchebag. I wouldn't get a picture of anyone...too much detail (thus more expensive), but what about some sort of symbol? The downside to this is what if the symbol loses meaning for me? If I'd had the extra money, two months ago I would have gotten the khanda - the symbol of the Sikh faith - on my left forearm. Now I think, "Well, maybe." My only problem is that when I tell people I'm interested in Sikhism I have to field questions about beards, turbans, and if all Sikhs wear white...and why I'm not doing any of those things<br /><br />A couple of weekends ago at the Sikh Day Parade, I saw plenty of Sikh men who shaved and weren't wearing turbans.<br /><br />Bottom line: I believe in a God. I believe in reincarnation. And I don't think breaking the cycle of rebirth has anything to do with one's diet, how many times a day you pray (quality over quantity, I say), or how you wear your hair.<br /><br />What was I talking about? Tattoos, right?<br /><br />Anyway, I made a lot of apologies to Shelley through email last night. It was just going to be a quick little "Hey - how are you? I need your address so I can send you the stuff you left here. Take care, Alex."<br /><br />But I just felt this nagging feeling to let her know that I'd had time to myself to think about how things went wrong. I owned up to a lot of mistakes, and spared no detail apologizing for everything I did. Told her I was growing up, acknowledging my own flaws and working on them.<br /><br />She has found a job and enrolled in classes at the City College, AND found a place with roommates (who have a cat). I'm glad we're both better off, not just me and not just her. I have this nagging feeling that she thinks she won't find anyone...I mean, come on, if you can't find your future spouse in 5 weeks' time in a new city while job/apartment/school-hunting, you'll never find true love. (Sarcasm.)<br /><br />Part of me thinks, "Who knows, maybe I've already met my future wife..." and another part of me thinks, "What if I haven't even met her yet?" I also wish I could look ahead five years, find myself, and just ask. Who is she? How will I meet her?<br /><br />Of course, I'm in no rush. I'll just keep doing my thing, all I really know how to do is write, make music, and be myself. Never mind that I've got at least one more year of school in my immediate future.<br /><br />Anyway, I've procrastinated enough. Time to get productive once more.<br /><br />Alex<br /><br />PS - If this seems trite, incoherent, or stupid, that's probably because it is. It's good for me to just sit and write stream-of-consciousness, paying no mind to syntax and including proper citations. In other words, it's a nice balance to hours spent on my ass in academic mode.Alex and Alexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10645304082657720614noreply@blogger.com0