Wednes and Odds

Sup, world.

I felt that now was the right time to check in with a bunch of thoughts that are probably too brief to be posts of their own (I know, right? I'm never concise). As Jemaine Clement so aptly puts it, "It's Wednesday... There's nothing good on tv. Conditions are perfect". So let's get right to it, then. It's time for business.

Item! Providence College basketball smacked around #1 Pitt at the Dunk last night and scored a decisive victory. This is only the second time that the school has ever defeated a #1 seeded team, the last time being against Michigan in 1976. For a team with an outside shot at the tournament, this win is huge. Naturally, the always rowdy Friar Fanatics stormed the court after the game, an undergraduate dream of mine that went unfulfilled. Sure, there was that one game at the end of senior year, but I was writing a paper, the game was already on TV, and they were supposed to lose anyway. The last image from that game, before ESPN2 cut back to SportsCenter, was my roommate and his Beard of Justice TM mere inches away from the camera cheering wildly. That could've been me. That paper was mediocre, by the way.

Item! The celeb-watching world is all a-twitter with excitement over pictures of Gisele Bundchen wearing what may or may not be an engagement ring. After Dan Shaughnessy's crappy article about Tom Brady having gone soft, I felt that as a lifelong Patriots fan (who remembers looking up to such non-factors as Scooter McGruder) I should give my two cents. My take is this. Quite honestly, I could care less what he does Monday through Saturday. As long as he brings the goods on Sunday, I'm happy. He could join Cirque du Soleil and the Church of Scientology and even guest star on the Teletubbies with Randy Moss, and it doesn't matter. So while Peyton Manning is making hilarious commericals and Ben Roethlisberger is falling off motorcycles, I'm just fine with Tom being spoonfed by the #1 supermodel in the world, so long as he keeps rehabbing that knee. Nuff said.

Item! George-Michael Bluth has, according to the trusty internets, agreed in principle to the Arrested Development movie! Can I get a hallelujah? Once again, my blog has directly stirred up enough buzz to get stuff done. As the lone holdout in publically stating their participation in the big screen adaptation of the late TV show, George-Michael (who plays Michael Cera in real life) had dodged the question and even implied he was not in a position to do the movie. To that, I said: Yeah, right. Even Maebe signed on; I knew he wouldn't hold out long. I didn't think he had it in him. Now with the complete cast in the bag (no word on Marta 1 or Marta 2 yet), if Mitch Hurwitz and Ron Howard can get cracking with new jokes pertaining to literacy calendars, Wee Britain, and Dr. Fishman, everything is going to be all right.

Finally, (Item!) I'm not going to do a New Music Wednesday today. There's no explanation coming; it turns out I'm just too lazy to do it. Try to hold it together. You'll pull through.

Take us home, Stephen!

"Some are put off by the labyrinthine structure of Catholic dogma, but many of its rituals are quite beautiful, and not just when edited together as a tense, poetic conterpoint to brutal violence in Mafia films." - Stephen Colbert

Clip of the Day

Excerpted from the Boston Globe today:

"The fans in the sold-out Dunkin' Donuts Center sensed it, crowding around the courtside press tables for the final minutes. Twice in the final minutes, the public address announcer begged the fans to stay off the floor following the game; twice the crowd responded with a laugh."

Facebook According to DF, Part 1

A Practical Guide to Looking Cool on Facebook

Since Facebook's arrival on the college scene over five years ago, the network has become a petri dish where social conventions, expectations, and etiquette are produced and refined. This is a half-assed attempt at saying, very smartsoundingly, that there are a ton of unspoken rules and behaviors that are followed for fear of appearing uncool. If this is the first time you've heard of this phenomenon, I apologize. We've been making fun of you for years.

Popularity is measured in several ways. The amount of friends, or "friends", one has can often be an indicator of success or neediness. If you are unsure about what your number of "friends" says about you, consult the handy chart below:

0-20 "friends": You never go online and you're related to half of your friends list. The rest are co-workers and that one friend who moved out west.
21-50 "friends": Too cool for Facebook. You wouldn't have a profile but "a friend signed you up and you never check it". Sure.
51-100 "friends": You only add people that are actually your friends. Congratulations. In the real world, this is admirable.
101-200 "friends": You add anyone you hang out with.
201-500 "friends": You add classmates as well as friends.
501-1000 "friends": You add old high school and/or college classmates as well. Hey! We weren't really friends back then, but let's add each other now and then not contact each other again!
1001+ "friends": Your definition of friends is anyone you've ever heard of, and anyone your friends have ever heard of, plus their friends too. Go outside once in a while.
2000+ "friends": Get help. It is physically impossible to know this many people on even a casual level, and you're not fooling anyone. You appear horrifically desperate and probably cry yourself to sleep every night.

"But wait," you cry, "I hardly ever add anyone. I just accept most friend requests!" That's fair enough, but it doesn't matter. The world assumes that you personally chose to add each friend, and doesn't take into account things like friendliness or pity. To help boost your list of friends, Facebook has provided the "People You May Know" tool. On the usefulness scale, this rates just above the "Invite Your Friends to Join Facebook" option (even Tibetan monks have heard of Facebook by now). If these two generally useless tools are any indication, Facebook will not stop until all users are "friends" with everyone. Hands across the water, really. Of course, these are also the same people that brought you the "poke" option and think you're interested in spending a dollar for a Facebook "gift".

A similar indicator of success is your "Photos Tagged Of You" count. Although it should go without saying, given that most people look the same every day, an amount of two thousand plus photos is really unnecessary. Wall posts do not follow this logic however; the more, the merrier. Anyone displaying a high level of received wall posts but hardly any actual activity on Facebook is considered mysterious and uber cool. At least in their own minds, which I've learned is all that counts.

Status updates have found mainstream acceptance recently, and function somewhat as a middle ground between Twitter and an away message. If you update your status more than three or four times in a given day, you're probably neglecting something in your life.

Facebook notes are irrelevant to your quest to appear popular. Simply ignore them. Anyone who thinks that the world would be very interested in reading what he writes online is clearly deceiving himself.

"He's at a weekend stage-fighting workshop with Carl Weathers"

Evening,

This weekend I am off to my smashing alma mater for a rip roaring good time at alumni homecoming weekend. I'd be lying if I didn't say I've had the date on my calendar since May 18 of last year. At any rate, there is a lot of drinking to be done and I won't have the access to blog about it, unless for some reason I visit the library (not likely).

In the fine tradition of bloggers considering video clips to be actual posts, I present to you five clips from the first season of my favorite show in the whole wide world, the late and great Arrested Development. I have been watching season one again recently, and the following is an assortment of several great moments from the said season. I don't know why I'm doing this, per se, but I think the reason I am going to go with is this: I'm trying to generate more buzz in the blogosphere about the show and the AD movie that is hopefully in pre-production now. Yeah, I'll go with that.











Have a bananarific weekend.

New Music Wednesday!

Each Wednesday, I will (attempt) to review two or three songs that I am hearing for the first time and review them, in an effort to both broaden my own musical tastes and perhaps inspire you to do the same. This week, however, I will be reviewing a new album instead. I hope this is still interesting.

Album Review
Ben Folds, Stems and Seeds, 2009

One of the hallmarks of Ben Folds' 14-year career has been his consistently friendly relationship with his fans. Well known for talking with departing concertgoers and signing autographs after his shows, his musical career is inseperable from his fan base. These are folks who still revel in Ben Folds Five's label as "punk rock for sissies" and loudly request obscure b-sides at concerts instead of hits. Ben has kept his ticket prices down and is known for leading the audience in multi-part choral accompaniments to not one, but two of his more famous songs. Prior to his latest album, he personally released a "leaked" version online, only to fleece fans with six fake versions of his new songs, complete with laughably bad lyrics. Over the last two months, he has been flying to college campuses to meet and record with the a cappella groups he selected in his a cappella covers contest, and these recordings will end up on an offically released CD.

All that to say that while fan reaction was pretty positive to his third proper solo album, 2008's Way to Normal, there was one glaring disappointment across fan boards online: the album's mastering. Mixed at high volume and unbelievably compressed, the album was passable on car stereos but was abrasive in headphones. Although meant to sound somewhat distorted, the album's more daring experimentation (very high bass distortion on "Dr. Yang", empty Altoids cans taped to piano strings on "Free Coffee") was often more headache-inducing than revelatory. Way to Normal was publically compared by some scribes to Metallica's Death Magnetic and Iggy and the Stooges' remastered Raw Power as among the most unlistenably loud records ever. This was a shame, for all of his new material, real or fake, sounded amazing live and unmixed. At any rate, the vociferous online Folds fans were pretty unanimous in hating the mastering.

Enter Ben Folds, Man of the People. While standing by his decision to try new and different things with his producer, he acknowledged the high prevalence of audiophiles in his fan base and decided to release a second version of his album to his fan club and then to the general public. Stems and Seeds is exactly what the title implies, once you look beyond the obvious joke for stoners everywhere. The 2-CD set consists of one set of all 11 studio tracks in individual stems (i.e., isolated piano tracks, vocal tracks, bass tracks, etc), which allow fans to remix each tune as they see fit with applications such as Garage Band. The second CD, entitled Seeds, is made up of the 11 studio tracks, 6 "fake" tracks, and several other bonus tracks without any compression whatsoever. Indeed, the instruments are seperated and balanced very well and the sound quality in headphones is extremely pleasing.

While overall improvement was not necessarily the goal of this release, reveleations abound with the very first listen. While only a few of the remixes add something new (not a bad thing at all), the most improved aspect is the quality of the vocals. The new track order allows "Effington" and its three-part harmony to open the CD, and the effect is akin to the opening numbers of many modern musicals. "Frown Song", which suffered from a particularly abrasive vocal on the proper album, sounds very natural here and could probably have even made the radio in this incarnation, if there was a censored version. The bass in "Dr. Yang" is still radically distorted but the effect is not diminished with the reduction in volume and compression. Ditto for "Free Coffee" and the Altoid tins. "Kylie from Connecticut", while mostly piano and vocals, is done a better turn with this mastering, as the strings added into the bridge sound far more poignant and creative than on the original album.

"You Don't Know Me", Ben's duet with Regina Spektor, shines even more here as a pop gem. The intermittent but effective injections of strings work so much better in this mastering. If you hear one song from this CD, make it this one. More than catchy, it's infectious and creative on a level that few artists ever aspire to. This release also provides a taped rehearsal from Late Night with Conan O'Brien, where Regina joined Ben and his band. It's probably just as satisfying of a listen.

The fake tracks all sound brilliant, as the only previously available versions for four of the six of them were MySpace downloads. This is also the CD debut of the fake track "Bitch Went Nutz", which is maybe the funniest thing Ben has ever written. "Hiroshima (Japanese Version)" is a fun novelty but won't replace the upbeat English original on any mixtape, at least in the US. The aformentioned Conan rehearsal is only available on this release as well.

In conclusion, this is the rare release of previously released, remixed material that would actually be of interest to more than die-hard fans. While I would imagine that most people would not mind the difference either way, any serious fan of music would do better with Stems and Seeds over Way to Normal. Should you happen to be buying soon, Stems and Seeds is priced about the same and features far more music, even on the Seeds CD alone. And for audiophiles like yours truly, the choice is obvious.

Vive le retour!

Greetings, compadres.

I have returned earlier than expected from malware hell with a clean hard drive and freshly reinstalled stuff. I'd love to have my time back. You don't care, but I do.

Therefore, I can now blog again and you can again pretend to be interested about what I think. I'm cooking up a New Music Wednesday as we speak. I don't care if anyone enjoys that feature; I'm gonna stick with the 'weekly music rambling' idea in one form or another. Input welcome.

See you there,
Your favorite verbose but barely-above-average blogger

Letter from the Editor

My laptop is currently getting the crap kicked out of it by the latest and greatest spyware and malware products (from Russia, I understand) and I believe tomorrow I will be wiping the hard drive. Seriously. This thing knows what programs and system scans remove it and it's locked them. I literally cannot visit websites like pctools.com or run MalwareBytes or anything like it because this virus is acting like it owns the place. In the meantime, I've been frantically backing up my massive iTunes library (if VH1's Save the Music is reading this... send cash?) when the computer isn't frozen or logjammed with popups. I'm amazed that blogger.com opened for me now--it hasn't for two days.

You were probably looking for witty insight on today's issue du jour. I'm afraid I will have to take a quick break, but I do hope I'll be rambling in this space once again come Friday-ish. Incidentally, if you are at Providence College this Saturday, I heard the alumni a cappella concert (4pm, Blackfriars) is gonna be off the hook. Special Guest is also releasing their sixth CD, Black and Tan (about damn time!), most of which we recorded in May of '07. We were busy, get over it.

I hope everyone's well. A big hello to my recent international visitors, whoever you are, and sorry to inadvertantly confirm many of your opinions about Americans. And if you hail from anywhere near Moscow and know where Bakasoftware does business, please firebomb them into the Stone Age.

A Fair Defense of Valentines Day Haters

Haters everywhere would cordially like to wish you a Happy Singles Awareness Day!

As I sit here blogging in my St. Patrick's Day t-shirt, it occurs to me that Valentines Day is one of those holidays that raises the ire of some people. It's odd that a day devoted to love could inspire just the opposite. Thanks, Godiva!

I feel that too often, though, the V-Day haters are accused of just being jaded single people and the recently dumped. This demographic, by the way, could single-handedly jumpstart the economy if 2am liquor runs were feasible. I feel that, often being in the former crowd myself, I can step in and defend every sore loser who wears black on Valentines Day as he peruses this week's SI Swimsuit Edition and munches on Sweethearts (ladies, just substitute Cosmo. For reading material, not food).

The sentiment behind Valentines Day is a good one. That one day a year is set aside to give special prominence to romance seems appropriate. I don't think many people would argue that love isn't important enough to deserve that recognition, especially because that honor is also given to lesser fare like "talking like a pirate". This isn't the part that inspires such rancor, or at least I don't think so.

Instead, it's the Hallmarkization of the day, and really all of February, that sucks for single people. Surrounded by happy couples and beaten over the head with commercials reminding them to buy something special (and expensive) for the loved one that they haven't met yet, Valentines Day is a kick between the legs. To say that this is merely the result of envy and loneliness would not be viewing the complete picture. In a day where the media is running images of happy people with their squeezes, the not-so-subtle implication of superiority is often felt by those who get dinner for one. Why should they be happy, when we aren't? Should our self-worth be judged by the presence of a soul mate or a lack thereof? To sourpuss singles, the very act of celebrating romantic partners is akin to being Jewish on Christmas Day. We're going to celebrate something that makes every imperfection in our lives bearable, but don't feel bad just because this benefit is not extended to you. Doesn't sound fair.

So to those of you who spent lots of money, time, and care preparing a memorable evening out, Happy Valentines Day. I really do hope you enjoy it and each other. Just don't be upset with your waiter for seeming aloof and jaded. He's probably hoping to get out early so he can blog about how all the good girls are taken.

I can't wait to be a Hilarious Grumpy Old Guy!

Over the past few years, as I've slid into my twenties, I am for the first time conscious that there are people much, much younger than me. These people are generally my students and consider themselves way cooler than me. In fact, my best asset as a potential role model might just be as an example of why it pays to be cool, attractive, and wealthy. If you have issues with those three things, you'll end up like me, working with a classroom full of students who think you look "terrible" and "weird" and "stupidheadish" and all sorts of other wonderful things.

To their credit, I did in fact look terrible that day. Don't stay out all night drinking, kids.

But enough about the wee young nosepickers. Their mere existance has reminded me that one day, I too will join the ranks of countless men way, way past their prime and become a Hilarious Grumpy Old Guy (patent pending)!!

Those among you who are female, or under the age of 18, might not understand the attraction here. Is there any appeal whatsoever to wrinkles and senility and becoming so out of touch with current trends that you end up becoming a living fossil of a bygone era? You bet your '68 Ford truck there is!

Here's the main draw: You can say whatever you want. To anyone. And it really doesn't matter. You might be labeled a crazy old coot, but no one would dare tell you so to your face. Even if they did, what the hell do they know? You've seen it all. You're probably too oblivious to even notice their presumed superiority. While I have no desire to be the racist grandpa or the alcoholic elder (well actually...), there is nothing wrong with calling them how you see them. Everyone has to listen to you at least, for you speak with the wisdom of 65+ years of living, drinking, and generally telling it like it is.

Although sanity is not something that any of us have any control over, assuming that I still have half of my marbles in my twilight years, I think it might be fun to convince just one impressionable grandchild that I am completely off my rocker. While the rest of my family comments on how wonderful it is that I have retained my wits for so many years, whispering absolutely insane thoughts to just one kid could provide hours of endless entertainment.

Just picture it: "Hey, Timmy. You know, Grandpa's a pretty peaceful fellow, but I tell you what we should do. We should round up all those damn Democrats/Evangelicals/Norwegian people and string them up by their underpants. We then throw Bibles/condoms/more Norwegian people at them until they repent of their disgusting ways! Also, the Man Upstairs can read your thoughts and He knows what you're thinking about the pigtailed girl in your class. Shame on you. Now go get Grandpa his salve, his rash is getting all fiery again." Hours of fun!

In nursing homes, you are allowed to be grumpy. You sit in your chair all day and watch TV in your pajamas. You order as much pudding as you want, and they'll even spoon-feed you! Crossword puzzles are suddenly unbelievably awesome, even for non-English majors. You may even find yourself completing a really tough one after hours of racking your brain, only to find out later that it was actually a checkered tablecloth. No big deal--you can't see anything anyway. It's a crossword puzzle now, and you mothertruckin' kicked its ass.

It also bears mentioning that while old men are often mocked for wearing their pants way above their waists, anyone who has ever tried it secretly noticed that it was way more comfortable that way. It's not a popular opinion, I know, but I dare you to try it and disagree.

Although it might seem like I'm just slightly undervaluing the four to five decades between now and then, I think being an old fart is going to be the best time ever. It's like being a really, really little kid, but also being allowed to drink like a champion. Take a moment now to put in reservations at my future nursing home. We're gonna have a rippin' good time.

New Music Wednesday!

Each Wednesday, I will (attempt) to review two or three songs that I am hearing for the first time and review them, in an effort to both broaden my own musical tastes and perhaps inspire you to do the same.


Crazy For You and Hometown Glory
Adele, 19, 2008

Winning Best New Artist at the Grammy Awards will certainly get you noticed, and after Adele's big victory on Sunday, I decided that I needed to see what all the fuss was about. Last night I watched her appearance on Last Call with Carson Daly, a show that usually serves only to remind me that Conan is over and that all interesting TV is done for the evening. I need to write a seperate post on how lousy that show is. Enough about that. I kept watching to hear Adele's performance and some of her interview, given that they were dedicating the entire show to her. Immediately her voice commands the room, and as she begins her first song I noticed one of the rare talents she has: namely, the ability to sing softly while still maintaining the power and intensity in her vocals that you would hear from an Ella Fitzgerald or a Mavis Staples. Her singing is hard to describe. Too aesthetically pleasing to be called sultry, and too measured to be called overly passionate. The control she has over every note is impeccable.

"Crazy for You" is accompanied by only a bouncy guitar arpeggio, played by Adele herself in concert. It is a straightforward love ballad and, although it doesn't drag, the lyrics do read a little bit like most other pop songs--which is a shame, given her performance of it. Her voice is great and the recording quality is top notch, but the material is merely mediocre, unfortunately. The fact that the title called to mind the Madonna song and also the boy band/Mickey Mouse club girl era of the late 90's doesn't help. This is her debut album, however, and there is potential in spades. And you could do way, way worse.
Grade: C+

"Hometown Glory" evokes just about the opposite mood, as the piano immediately sets the tone for a more dramatic song. Her voice shines, once again, immediately drawing the listener in. Catchy would be the wrong word to describe it; gripping comes closer. You want to hear where the whole song is going, once it's a few bars in. Fortunately, the lyrics of this song, which she co-wrote, far exceed the limitations of our previous song. Strong and confidently written, this is a far superior song. While the title gives off a Bruce Springsteen kind of vibe, this song better exhibits her voice and her talents as an artist. Almost defiant, it's clear why this song was picked for a single whereas the previous one was not. While it might be the kind of song you have to be in the right mood to hear (and I'm admittedly too upbeat at the moment), I hope she continues to create music like this.
Grade: B+