Stupid Thing I Love: #439340322309932090923

June 15, 2011 § Leave a comment

There isn’t much to say about this one. Back in the day, there was a period of time when I wore too much eyeliner and had a skateboard. Both phases, thankfully, were short lived. Like our pogostilts friend, I also suffer from extreme klutziness and thus was like “Yeah, no, this isn’t going to work.” (If only I had a Spooner then, amiright?) I was actually better at playing Tony Hawk than I was at real-life skateboarding, though my methods were pretty similar; “mash every button until something happens and then run into that garbage can and really hurt yourself.” Eventually I realized that less is more and that I never wanted to hear the words “compound fracture” in association with any part of my body, so I quit. However, I never quite shook my stupid love of skate videos. “Yeah Right!” is my favorite; an hour-long skate epic really, filmed by Spike Jonze with a cameo from Owen Wilson. What’s not to love?

Anecdotally, a group of people from my high school once had a skate team (I use the term lightly) and referred to themselves as the “Niskayuna Dick Heads,” or “NDH” for short. They shot their own footage and there’s a whole youtube channel for it. Admittedly, it’s not bad both skating (from what I know, which isn’t much) and videography-wise. It’s just funny. People I went to high school with! And check out my town! And surrounding tri-county areas!

Niskayuna’s skate park was eventually torn down and whatever dreams of ollie-ing over something tall that I may have been holding on to were officially dashed. C’est la vie. And probably for the best, anyways.

J

Advertisements

June 12, 2011 § Leave a comment

It’s an established fact that I generally avoid girl bands. I will admit right now I sometimes think about throwing away the Florence & the Machine CD at work just so I never have to listen to it again. I do make exceptions: Joan Baez, Nina Simone, Patsy Cline. I even saw Cat Power play a really terrible show at the MFA (a lot of the fault fell on sound guy for that one). But, I mean, I’m trying to make a distinction between this jazz/folk/solo artist thing, which I can be totally down for, and bands. (Also probably important to make the distinction between “people still making music” and “dead people.”)  There’s also a few lady-fronted bands which I will now say can hardly qualify as “girl bands,” Sonic Youth being one, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs being another. It is perhaps just harder for womenfolk to both totally fuckin’ kick ass and yet retain their feminine mystique without turning into the Donnas, that is to say, totally fucking cheesy. (I don’t know, I mean this rules:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fVhCo7PoVpA. But then again it’s a Big Black cover and I haven’t ever listened to any of her music. I’m confused.)

Shit, I don’t know what I am trying to get at really other than, “please God someone scratch that Florence & the Machine CD until it is entirely unplayable–use a screwdriver, anything, please” and “I love Fleetwood Mac.” Seriously, I love Fleetwood Mac. Both Stevie Nicks and her often overshadowed cohort Christine McVie were like the embodiment of girl power (at least, uh, musically speaking–life choices wise perhaps not so much) long before anyone was zig-a-zig-ah-ing. Rumours is a fucking great album. Also, when my hair was longer, people sometimes told me I looked like young Stevie Nicks.

I don’t know.

J

I like it because it’s good. It’s good because I like it.

May 29, 2011 § 1 Comment

After a day of discovering foursquare (who knew how creepy that could be?) and discussing whether or not everyone being in a state of constant euphoria is a good thing (n0), there is this, from everyone’s favorite Pulitzer Prize losing author and the New York Times:

“We can all handle being disliked now and then, because there’s such an infinitely big pool of potential likers. But to expose your whole self, not just the likable surface, and to have it rejected, can be catastrophically painful. The prospect of pain generally, the pain of loss, of breakup, of death, is what makes it so tempting to avoid love and stay safely in the world of liking.

And yet pain hurts but it doesn’t kill. When you consider the alternative — an anesthetized dream of self-sufficiency, abetted by technology — pain emerges as the natural product and natural indicator of being alive in a resistant world. To go through a life painlessly is to have not lived. Even just to say to yourself, “Oh, I’ll get to that love and pain stuff later, maybe in my 30s” is to consign yourself to 10 years of merely taking up space on the planet and burning up its resources. Of being (and I mean this in the most damning sense of the word) a consumer.”

Here’s the rest of it: Technology Provides an Alternative to Love

Love is hard work, Jonathan Franzen. My question is, what is the purpose of this “like-world,” shallow, internet self? Why do we want our ideal selves to be liked when it’s our shitty, crying-at-the-grocery-store-sometimes selves that are loved? I suppose just that it’s easier to “like” someone’s link to Steve Albini’s food blog (http://mariobatalivoice.blogspot.com/) than it is to take your bag full of existential shit and say “hey, hang on to this for a while.” Because they can potentially give back and possibly add to all that shit and that is scary and yeah, fucking hurts. But we can both just agree it’s cool that Steve Albini has a food blog. It’s not a more satisfying relationship in the end, but it’s easier–and so do we, our internet selves, just try to accumulate a bunch of easy internet relationships and likes in order to offset the work that is love?

Anywho, I’d say more, but it’s my birthday. Almost.

J

Partyin’ partyin’ yeah, fun fun fun

May 16, 2011 § Leave a comment

I will now formally apologize for taking this blog to the depths of “check out this thing I found on the interweb!” There was probably some science involved in this and there’s books in it so, I mean, at least it’s not that “Friday” video. I’m too occupied with my own research to discover if I really do like these Hint of Pepperjack chips to come up with anything else. In the name of science, I’ve eaten like half the bag and am feeling kind of sick. Time to nap. But hey! Check out this thing I found on the interweb!

J

It’s for real now.

May 9, 2011 § 1 Comment

We’ve gotta get on that Denny’s bacon sundae/mozzarella stick grilled cheese and Monster Golf STAT.

J

May 4, 2011 § Leave a comment

If there’s one thing I wish I was smart enough to learn more about, it’s space/astronomy/physics/science in general. The best I can do is watch Carl Sagan’s “Cosmos” on Netflix and try to remember things I saw on Bill Nye way back when. So far all I’ve got is that R-E-C-Y-C-L-E song set to the tune of “Respect.” I don’t think anything about water chimps is strictly “knowledge.”

Somewhere out there, there is probably a better J. who never falls asleep reading or leaves the dishes out to air dry. Overachiever.

Dedicated to Middlemarch.

April 19, 2011 § 1 Comment

The second-best article to come from NPR today–I’ll be dreaming of you tonight, mozzarella stick grilled cheese sandwich.

The Sad, Beautiful Fact That We’re All Going to Miss Almost Everything

“It’s sad, but it’s also … great, really. Imagine if you’d seen everything good, or if you knew about everything good. Imagine if you really got to all the recordings and books and movies you’re “supposed to see.” Imagine you got through everybody’s list, until everything you hadn’t read didn’t really need reading. That would imply that all the cultural value the world has managed to produce since a glob of primordial ooze first picked up a violin is so tiny and insignificant that a single human being can gobble all of it in one lifetime. That would make us failures, I think.”

As a person who thinks, sometimes obsessively, about all the things I haven’t read or seen or done I find this an especially nice thought. Way to go, human race. I’d say more but I bought some mini chocolate ice cream cones from Trader Joe’s and shortly, I will be occupied with shoving them into my face.

J