Predictive Text

While rifling off a text message today before returning to work, I noticed that when I press the 2-6-6-5 combination, the predictive text function on my (admittedly ancient) phone selects "book" as the first choice, instead of "cool".

So I guess my question is this: Should I be concerned? Does my phone know me so well that it associates literature with me over potentially "cool" things? I'm not sure if I should be upset, or just accept that this is my reality. I can fool a lot of people, but I'm certainly not fooling my phone.

This will not be my most popular blog entry.

US Presidents of the Last 109 Years, As Described by Those Who Hate Them

Barack Obama - Impractical, Unqualified, Community-Organizing Socialist Dreamer
George W. Bush - Lying, Misdiseducated, Cocky Warmongering Asshole
William Clinton - Spendhappy, Philandering Liar and Cheater, Mediocre Saxophonist
George H.W. Bush - Graduate of the Gerald Ford School of Non-Descript Presidencies
Ronald Reagan - Senile, Contra-funding, Neo-conservative-spawning Hollywood type
Jimmy Carter - Economy-Killing, Bleeding-Heart-Liberal Enemy of Anyone with a Peanut Allergy.
Gerald Ford - Bald, Boring, Nixon-pardoning Pushover
Richard Nixon - Cut and ran from Vietnam, then White House
Lyndon B. Johnson - Vietnam-escalating, "Daisy Ad" Scaremongerer who was neither JFK nor RFK
John F. Kennedy - Womanizing, Irish Catholic, Babyfaced Bay of Pigs Assailant
Dwight Eisenhower - Grabbed Alaska and Hawaii for the US, forcing the USSR to settle on mere Outer Space.
Harry Truman - Worst Exit Rating Ever, Knew about the bomb after Stalin did, Lost to Dewey
Franklin D. Roosevelt - Welfare-state-creating Economic Interventionist Who Felt Called to Ignore Washington's Two-term President Precedent
Herbert Hoover - One Dam Big Trade-Stifling Economic Failure
Calvin Coolidge - Deregulating, Anti-social, Minimalist Stiff Masshole
Warren Harding - Adulterous, Bumbling, and Corrupt Winner of the Franklin Pierce Memorial Award for Worst President of the Century
Woodrow Wilson - Promised not to go to war, then did. Unapologetic Segregationist.

William H. Taft - Fatty "300+" McBlimperson
Theodore Roosevelt - Nothing. No one has ever hated on TR and lived to tell the tale.

Useless Post #3

A Case for Radio from A Face for Radio

Remember radio? You might be surprised to hear that it still exists. Yes, that relic from your childhood, riding in overheated cars with defective cassette decks and melted crayon on the dashboard, is still alive and... well, I shouldn't say well, but it's not sick or anything.

No one listens to the radio anymore. In an era of iPods, iPod car adapters, mix CDs, and in-car bands that sing about free credit reports, the idea of actually turning on the dial and taking a chance on what music you're going to be hearing seems borderline insane. People who text while driving consider the radio dial to be downright dangerous. What happens if it's a song you don't like, or worse, haven't heard before? What if you scroll through all 45 or so stations, realize that half of them are playing the same song, and find that none of them are playing your favorite obscure indie band whose early stuff was really good? Don't even get me started on commercials either, you say.

I'm here to step up to the plate and say that the radio has made many a long drive (and a few workdays) not only tolerable but actually enjoyable. While I am about 107.1% sure that my taste in music is vastly superior to anyone else's (and it's not even close), if left to my own devices I too will tend to listen to the same songs and bands over and over. I don't mean to, but it happens. I just got out of a weeklong stretch of listening to nothing besides Simon and Garfunkel, and while I felt more literate and spiritually refreshed, I also had an unresolved need to get my face rocked off.

That's where radio is great. You don't choose what you're going to hear. The chances for appreciating a song for the first time, gaining a new favorite artist, or even hearing something new and different go up exponentially. Without the radio, I would have never been introduced to songs like "Think I'm In Love" by Beck, "Denial Twist" by the White Stripes, "Love Removal Machine" by The Cult, "Mother Mary" by Foxboro Hot Tubs, "Hush" by Deep Purple, "Standing Outside a Broken Phone Booth With Money In My Hand" by Primitive Radio Gods, and countless other songs that I listen to frequently now. That's just over the past year or so.

This is where I make a case for all southeastern Massachusetts listeners to check out Cool 102, Cape Cod's fantastically consistent mix radio station. It's pretty much like my iPod on shuffle.

I was aware of this the other night when I was faced with a long drive home after visiting some friends of mine north of Boston. Unable to find an upbeat CD that I hadn't heard recently, I decided to give WBCN (104.1 FM) a chance, and I got this righteous block of music:

"Smells Like Teen Spirit" - Nirvana
"Know Your Enemy" - Green Day
"Viva la Vida" - Coldplay
"Shipping Up to Boston" - Dropkick Murphys
"Hurt" - Nine Inch Nails
"Wish You Were Here" - Incubus
"No You Girls" - Franz Ferdinand
"Smoke Two Joints" - Sublime

Sure, there might be a few predictable titles up there. But at 11:51 at night, with 40 miles to go and the windows rolled down, that was just the kind of playlist I was looking for. Even the Nine Inch Nails was invigorating enough to keep up the energy. This succeeded where another round with Classic Rock Mix That Doesn't Suck, Vol. 2 or Happy Mother's Day Mix 2005 would have fallen short. Radio is super like that.

But if I hear "Crocodile Rock" one more time, I'm totally giving up on it.

An Open Letter to the Old Fart Liquor Store Cashier

Sup.

Listen, we need to have a talk. You got off way too easy tonight. I should've handed you your ass on a plate, but instead I looked at you quizzically, dropped off my returnables, and left to buy beer up the street.

So here goes. Comb the hair in your ears out of the way and get your ear horn out, I'm only gonna say this once.

I'm so, so sorry that I returned empty bottles at 9:27pm. I was under the understanding that being open til 10 implied that you were working til 10. You certainly managed to express your displeasure (with a side of condescending disappointment!) at our interruption. Pulling away from your newspaper and forced to miss a moment of the Sox game, you made the cardinal sin of expressing out loud one of your "inside thoughts" and told me that now you had to do something with those bottles.

Don't say that out loud, you stupid ass. You think that stuff, sure, but you don't say it. Especially not to a customer.

Yes, you do in fact have to do something with those bottles. Novel concept, I know. Which brings me to the crux of my open letter. I'm a customer, dipshit. You should be holding the fucking door when I bless your sorry ass with your old, empty bottles. I mean, let's consider who your clientele are. I'm buying booze at 9:27 on a Tuesday, so I'm clearly already on shaky emotional ground. I'm probably trying to blow off some steam from a busy day of having stuff demanded of me, mostly from young children. This employment requires that I work hard (look it up) and prevents me from returning my bottles during daylight hours, numbnuts. Don't tell me what time it is. I know what fucking time it is.

And so, you stupid, crusty old bastard, you just effed with the wrong mothereffer. You lost my business, which heretofore probably generated a paltry $50 a month. But that's $50 that I'm not giving you. It's not much, but that's probably enough to bring you the Sox games on cable so your "working" hours can pass quickly. You know, when you're not sorting bottles.

You might not care (chances are, you don't) but I know quite a few people in town. Many of them read this. People who work hard for their money and don't like being treated as an inconvinience by folks who read the paper while on the clock. Those people now know that the old guy behind the counter at Pop's Fine Wines and Liquors is a curmudgeony old mouthbreather who doesn't like to do work at work, yet has no problem collecting his check.

Well, suck my longneck, sir. I hope you contract strep throat from my beer bottles.

Arguing With Myself Over M.I.A.'s "Paper Planes"

Setting: Inside the author's head, and somewhere between 87.7 and 107.9 MHz

Okay man, this is the third time today you've stopped on this song while scanning radio stations. Even allowing room for curiosity, it's now clear that you're totally into this tune. And it's not okay. This is pop music. Pop music is irrelevant fluff. Not only that, but the lyrics don't even make sense. This wouldn't necessarily be a problem if every single verse wasn't repeated twice. Hell, half of the lyrics in the chorus are replaced by, of all things, sound clips of gunshots and cash registers. And now every white kid on the street claims to have "swagger". Why are you listening to this stuff?

Yeah but dude, listen to that bass. It's great.

Sure it is. Repeating eighth notes over three pitches. I'm sure only Stanley Clarke could play that, or perhaps Larry Graham if he got lucky. Yeah. Looking beyond the massively complex technical details of the arrangement, doesn't it bother you that the editing is shaky? Listen to that poor edit right before the first chorus. There's a huge, choppy blip right there. No one noticed that when they were copying each verse twice? Serious studio wizardry this ain't. There's no way you can like this song.

Yeah but man, it's catchy.

Catchy, sure. So is the Arthur TV theme. Listen, this song sounds pretty violent. Those gunshots have to be glorifying armed robbery. At the very least. Are those kids singing that part? And there's a KGB reference, so now we're internationally offensive. Hey, the song is... it's talking about murdering people right there! The singer murders people! This part here, hey!

True, but some-a-some she lets go-o.

You are so unbelievably frustrating. Fine. How about this, then? The entire song is one looped sample of the intro of "Straight to Hell" by The Clash. The whole thing. There isn't a single original musical contribution in this piece, just lifted ideas from someone else. It's all been done before. You cannot possibly think this is a great song.

Yeah but dude... it's The Clash.

Ah. Touche, then.

Amusing Thought for the Day

Somewhere in America, at this very moment, it is distinctly possible that Stephen A. Douglas's great-great-great-great grandchildren are playing with Lincoln Logs.

Anecdote from a Killer Sports Weekend, and Links

Boston Globe photo collage

At Fenway, Tampa Bay's Pat Burrell stepped out of the batter's box as the stadium erupted in cheers [when] the Celtics took the win. "I didn't know if there was a big fight going on or did somebody run on the field," Burrell said. "Definitely, it was time to get out of the box. Then as soon as I thought about it, I said, 'Oh, it's probably hockey.' The home plate umpire said, 'I think it's basketball.'" (Source: The Boston Globe)

It was a ginormous weekend in Boston sports. Last night, the Bruins staved off elimination with a tremendously played 4-0 win at home against Carolina to force a Game 6. Shortly thereafter, a back-and-forth Celtics/Magic game came to a TV-movie finish as Glen "Big Baby" Davis sunk a long jump shot at the buzzer for a stunning 95-94 victory. As if ordained by fate, the Red Sox almost immediately picked up the slack in the eighth inning. Jason Bay provided what proved to be the winning RBI (it's what he does), and the Sox survived another rough 9th inning to beat Tampa (who have just owned them of late), 4-3. Looking back now, I'm a little disappointed that the Patriots didn't manage to find a way to win something yesterday.

HAPPY LINK FUN TIME!

Coffee may have a multitude of health benefits, according to new research. Apparently, much of the prior research on coffee drinkers failed to seperate the effects of smoking from the effects of coffee drinking, as there was (formerly) a high correlation in users between the two. Just bringing this news to you gives me the jitters. (Source: The Boston Globe)

Fantastic, free instrumental number called "B Minor" by Badman Records artist Lanterna. Reminds me a bit of U2 and some of Radiohead's Bends-era stuff, but just a little bit. As far as music goes, this is pretty accessible. I'm not a big fan of instrumentals but this one is pretty great. (Source: Amazon mp3)

Wordsmith.org's Word of the Day today is dissimulate, which is a verb meaning to "disguise one's intentions". I feel that dissimulate would make for an interesting comparison to obfuscate, but I'm a nerd so... there's that. (Source: A Word A Day)

My friend Todd is in animation school. Although he updates less frequently than I do, due to probably having far more of a social life, check out his blog! I'm biased of course, but I think his stuff is pretty entertaining.

Finally, someecards.com has been providing me with uncomfortable laughs and tweaks of shame for a solid year now. If you're not hip, inform yourself.

There you go. Go get some sunshine, losers.

Facebook According to DF, Part 4 (Epilogue)

Facebook apparently doesn't get it.


I thought that last week's sponsored ads were the dumbest I'd seen yet (link here or scroll down), but apparently the marketing genius who thought of that crap is still working there. It would be nice to live in their alternate universe, where everyone would like to pay a dollar for Facebook gifts. I'm amazed I've gone this long without blogging on them already.

Another Home Run for SNL Digital Shorts

Dick in a Box, Part 2?

Andy Samburg and Justin Timberlake teamed up again this week, with cameos by Patricia Clarkson and a smokin' hot Susan Sarandon, to deliver yet another amazing, Color Me Badd-styled hit. This one's a pretty darn worthy sequel, too. Enjoy, if you're not easily offended. If you are easily offended, here's a cute picture of a bunny instead.