I loved The Dark Knight Rises. Hmmm...That didn't come across correctly, so let me try again: I absolutely LOVED The Dark Knight Rises! That's more like it. I'm not going to write too much about it. There's a million billion bloggers sat behind a million billion laptops banally blogging about how super awesome the conclusion to Christopher Nolan's Batman Trilogy was. I don't want to follow that trend. (It really was super awesome though). All I'll say about it was that it was the best movie in the trilogy, that Bane made The Joker look like a total chump, and that I am amazingly happy with where the story finished. And that's that. I loved it.
What I want to talk about today is the experience I had that furthered the parallel I drew previously between Batman and The Phantom from Phantom of The Opera (or between Batman and The Phantom of The Opera). It was amazing. I would never have realized what was going on if my wife hadn't pointed it out.
So...
We're sitting in the movie theater waiting for the previews to start. We were early because I'm a slight Batman nerd and I didn't want to miss a damn thing. I'd drank a pint of Coca-Cola at dinner and was already desperate to urinate, even though I'd already been 2 times in the twenty minutes between dinner and entering Screen 1 of the Glasgow Quay Odeon...but I digress. We were sitting in our seats, the room buzzing with anticipation, the smell of Jalapeno Nacho's wafting around the room (they had a special going; you got a free Batman magnet with every purchase), and there was atmospheric background music playing. What music you ask? FREAKING PHANTOM OF THE OPERA MUSIC!!!
It was amazing! 24 hours before this I'd been blogging about the similarities that I see between Batman and Phantom. Then I'm sitting in the theater waiting for the biggest film of the decade when out of nowhere my wife points out that they are playing Phantom of The Opera music...unbelievable, right? I know!
There are no coincidences when it comes to this shiz right here yo! This shiz is serious!
Sunday 22 July 2012
Thursday 19 July 2012
Batman and Broadway
No direct link has ever existed between Batman and Broadway; until now. I think I may have discovered that link. The similarities are undeniable. How could we have missed this? How have we not seen this before?
Broadway is the home of the worlds fruitiest musicals. Every day thousands of people wander along this one New York street, amazed by bright lights and billboards. Every night thousands more flock into one of the 40 theaters that line Broadway to experience big voices and bad acting. It's not my bag, yo! People eat this junk up though! Right now there are two big budget television shows playing to millions of fans that exclusively revolve around dreams of success on Broadway. Two of them! Broadway seems to be the thing of the moment. Bearing this in mind, it makes sense that this years potentially monstrous summer blockbuster The Dark Knight Rises (and it's main man Batman) will be all Broadway'd up.
The link between Batman and Broadway isn't easy to spot. You gotta be familiar with this shit to notice. You have to understand the subtle differences that exist between the DC Universe and our Universe, then look past them to the even subtler similarities between the two. The link I originally started speaking about doesn't directly involve Broadway geographically. Instead it involves one of Broadway's most famous productions: The Phantom of The Opera.
If your not aware, the story of Phantom (as it's affectionately known to those that care about this crap) involves a creepy misanthrope who lives under a building, plays the organ and stalks women that are WAY out of his league. Oh, and he wears a mask! Because he's disfigured, or ugly or something...I don't know; I don't research this beforehand. He also sings a lot (I assume) and doesn't have any friends...because he's so über creepy.
If your not aware, the story of Phantom (as it's affectionately known to those that care about this crap) involves a creepy misanthrope who lives under a building, plays the organ and stalks women that are WAY out of his league. Oh, and he wears a mask! Because he's disfigured, or ugly or something...I don't know; I don't research this beforehand. He also sings a lot (I assume) and doesn't have any friends...because he's so über creepy.
I only started thinking about this because my wife mentioned "Batman" and "musicals" in the same sentence. Immediately I noticed the striking similarities between Batman and The Phantom. These are the links between Batman and The Phantom of The Opera, and therefore, between Batman and Broadway:
- They both wear masks - One wears the mask 'cause he's ugly or something; the other wears a mask so that super villains don't f-up his billion dollar business, and so that he doesn't get jacked by the cops for breaking multiple laws every night (because you know, it's actually a crime to physically assault someone. Even if they are a criminal). Different reasons; same choice.
- They both wear capes - One because he's the star of a Broadway show; it's all drama and theatrics (obviously). Of course The Phantom's going to have a cape! Batman has a cape because a great deal of his intimidation tactics involve drama and theatrics. Oh, as well as this it helps him glide. What vigilante doesn't need to glide?
- They both live in caverns - The Phantom lives in his cavern because he's a well established creep; Batman doesn't exactly live in his cave, he just spends inordinate quantities of his time down there... spelunking or something. They are both usually alone down there, The Phantom playing on his organ; Batman playing Solitaire on the Bat-Computer.
- Neither is very good with the ladies - The Phantom kidnapped a broad for some company...possibly with the intention of raping her...or having her sing his perfect musical, or something. Batman has never had a girlfriend and continually rebuffs the advances of one woman who is interested in him, the super-foxy Catwoman...in fact he's usually threatening her. Not exactly a Casanova, is he? When one threatens women and the other kidnaps them, clearly they both have lady troubles. Just saying...
- They are both self-loathing super depressives - all the time! Batman's pissed 'cause someone killed his parents; The Phantom's pissed because he has no friends...enough said.
- They are both potentially gay - Batman spends all his time with Alfred; The Phantom writes Opera's.
Look at this creepy Mofo!
I guess it's relevant to me because tomorrow I will be going to see The Dark Knight Rises. I am pumped for this! Phantom (the 2nd musical show) was written by a (super-creepy) Brit, Andrew Lloyd Webber; Christopher Nolan, Christian Bale, Michael Caine, Tom Hardy and Gary Oldman are all British too...and they are all in The Dark Knight Rises...so I guess that's another similarity that Batman and The Phantom have in common.
I didn't make this up; the evidence speaks for it's self. Batman and Broadway are linked. Inseparably linked. Forever...
Okay I made it up!
Okay I made it up!
Tuesday 17 July 2012
Some Stuff That's Pertinent
- Thursday Night: Glasgow. A five hour documentary/live concert entitled Something for Nothing: The Art of Rap is showing in the Odeon Cinema. How do I feel about this? Well, I'd have to say that it's like waking up on your birthday, finding out that Christmas has come early and that your parents also caught the Easter Bunny and now he's gonna be spending forever in a cage in your bedroom crapping out foil wrapped Cadbury eggs at your behest. It may be the best news EVER. 15 year old Graham soiled himself when he heard about this. £12.50 per ticket for 5 hours of aggression and rhyming slurs? Hell yeah, I'm there.
- Nas released a new album! I haven't listened to it yet, but he references Kareem Abdul-Jabbar on track one...so I'm going to assume that it's going to be something special.
- After spending countless hours over the last month watching old horror movies I have figured out the secret to surviving a horror massacre...I will have to outline it sometime.
- I got a job today, which means I'll have less time to think about pointless things and will have to spend a lot of time doing boring things.
- Even the President of the United States gets knocked back on Kiss Cam's. Barely finished watching the video of Michelle Obama leaning away from the Pres when they landed on the Kiss Cam at Monday's Team USA vs Brazil b-ball game. I feel the pain bro, happens to the best of us. Could have been worse though, right? He could have been rejected at a Rockets match...it's on YouTube.
Rockets Fan's Marriage Proposal
...That went down like cancer jokes in a hospital's oncology department...this is what happens when you make the conscious decision to become a Rockets fan...just sayin'... - And also...THEY ARE MAKING A TOY STORY 4!!!! I DON'T KNOW IF ANYONE REALIZES HOW HUGE THIS IS?! CAP LOCKS DON'T DO THIS NEWS JUSTICE! I'm more excited than I've ever been! This is more exciting than The Art of Rap. This is like waking up on your birthday, finding out that you've been adopted by billionaires who've bought you your own mansion on your own private island...while Christmas also came early and the billionaires also caught the Easter Bunny too...and there are some foil wrapped eggs waiting for you already.
...I ran out of exciting things...I guess the only thing more exciting for me than the above scenario would be waking up to discover that I grew a foot over night and became black, developed a killer jump shot and I've been signed by the Celtics. Hasn't happened just yet...so for right now, I'll get by with TOY STORY 4!!!! OH YEAH!!!
- I have no more pertinent things to mention...this was a useless bullet point...
Sunday 15 July 2012
A quick thought about Channel ORANGE
I'm not sure what to say about Channel ORANGE. It's beautiful. It's haunting. It has songs about girls AND guys. It's incredible. All I can go by is what I'm feeling when I'm listening to a piece of music. And this album makes me feel something. This jazzy, breezy and subtly experimental album is full of smooth melodies, soft beats beautiful harmonies and some pretty intense lyrical content. Frank Ocean also has a seemingly flawless, beautiful voice that must make picking up girls easier than beating a midget in a half court game of one-on-one. There's some pretty sweet guitar riffing in there too. There's an ambiance to the whole album that just tells the listener that Frank Ocean is not playing around. He is very very serious about what he's doing. It's bold. Beautiful and bold. Now, the avant-R'n'B scene is not one I'm intimately familiar with. I'm also not an expert on music, so my views are probably questionable at best; like I said all I know is what I feel. And like I said, I feel something.
Channel ORANGE is a hip-hop record, albeit a beautiful one...but it's still a hip-hop album. There's still plenty of sex, drug references, socioeconomic commentary and some n-bombing. It's a hip-hop album after all. But it's different, and I'm sure most people now know why...
Frank Ocean, R'n'B's new golden god is bisexual apparently. Good for him. Seriously. Listening to the lyrics and melodies on his debut album, it doesn't surprise me. It doesn't bother me either. It shouldn't bother me...it shouldn't bother anyone; but I'm sure it bothers some people.
Rap music has always been mildly homophobic (and by "mildly" I of course mean "super-mega"). I can name drop at least 17 rap songs off the top of my head that slur homosexuality or allude to homosexual acts in a derogatory way, without even trying. Rap music has possessed a very juvenile attitude towards homosexuality in the past. It's almost schoolyard; "Your gay"... "NO! Your gay! And so's your dad!" This kind of exchange has permeated hip-hop beefs since the earliest days of MCing and freestyling. Calling an enemy or target "Gay" in your rap has often been seen as one of the most disrespectful labels usable. Worse than suggesting you slept with your opponents wife (think 2Pac to Biggie in Hit 'Em Up). Obviously this is wrong.
No popular male hip-hop artist has ever come out as being either gay or bisexual. We may secretly harbor suspicions about Andre 3000 or Kanye West or Vanilla Ice or whoever; it's not suspicions that matter. Orientation makes no difference to anything here. And more importantly it's really none of our business. It's not anyone's business who does what with who, save those doing the actual business in question. I guess Rap music became intensely pigeonholed in it's stereotypical masculinity and blatant homophobia for a while. Homophobic's were to hip-hop what the KKK were to the NAACP back in the '60's. This has always been an issue with hip-hop. It's not a new thing.
Amazingly though, support for Frank Ocean has seemingly been universal. Maybe this is what hip-hop's been needing for a long time. He's worked with Jay Z, so he's got the seal of approval; sorta like Moses with the burning bush and the locusts, etc. I doubt homophobia will cease to be an issue, not only in hip-hop but in society generally. Expecting homophobia to become eradicated completely is like expecting a rainless summer in Seattle, or expecting your favorite sports team to win every title available in their sport every year for the rest of forever. It's most likely not going to happen. But we can hope.
Even though homophobia still exists in Rap and in society generally, no one seems to care about this. Therefore the open letters on Tumblr and the lyrical inspiration behind Bad Religion don't make a difference. They are important, yes. They are significant to us culturally, yes; they are especially important to those of us who care about the culture of hip-hop. It is a big deal. But they don't take center stage here. The music does. The music on Channel ORANGE is the focus, and it speaks for itself.
Channel ORANGE is probably the best album I've heard all year. It's better than anything I've heard from the hip-hop world in a long time. It makes everything that other artists like Chris Brown and Usher are putting out sound like recycled garbage that's been auto-tuned and set to a club beat by the Swedish House Mafia or David Guetta. It's just a damn good album.
I've listened to Channel ORANGE twice now and I'm still blown away. To me the mark of good music is it's ability to make you feel something. I can't really relate to Frank Ocean's experiences. I've never had unrequited feelings for a man, and I've never lost my recording studio to a hurricane. But this doesn't mean that I can't enjoy the emotion that he shares with us on his songs and that I can't relate on some level to the things he's describing. I've been down, just like he has. I've had strong feelings for someone that weren't returned just like he has. I sometimes just want to party like Mr. Ocean just wants to party. The feelings I'm feeling as I listen to this masterpiece are familiar to me, because they are ordinary. He sings about ordinary things in a really beautiful way. That's why this album is so good. Because we can relate to it.
I am buying this album tomorrow so I can bump it in my car as I drive home from my job interview. I know that whether or not the interview goes well will be extremely important, but my feelings won't be; because this album will help me emote on the whole thing. I'll either want to party or sit in the back of a taxi and confess all my sins to a middle eastern cabby. Either way I'll be sorted. I take some comfort in that.
Channel ORANGE is a hip-hop record, albeit a beautiful one...but it's still a hip-hop album. There's still plenty of sex, drug references, socioeconomic commentary and some n-bombing. It's a hip-hop album after all. But it's different, and I'm sure most people now know why...
Frank Ocean, R'n'B's new golden god is bisexual apparently. Good for him. Seriously. Listening to the lyrics and melodies on his debut album, it doesn't surprise me. It doesn't bother me either. It shouldn't bother me...it shouldn't bother anyone; but I'm sure it bothers some people.
Rap music has always been mildly homophobic (and by "mildly" I of course mean "super-mega"). I can name drop at least 17 rap songs off the top of my head that slur homosexuality or allude to homosexual acts in a derogatory way, without even trying. Rap music has possessed a very juvenile attitude towards homosexuality in the past. It's almost schoolyard; "Your gay"... "NO! Your gay! And so's your dad!" This kind of exchange has permeated hip-hop beefs since the earliest days of MCing and freestyling. Calling an enemy or target "Gay" in your rap has often been seen as one of the most disrespectful labels usable. Worse than suggesting you slept with your opponents wife (think 2Pac to Biggie in Hit 'Em Up). Obviously this is wrong.
No popular male hip-hop artist has ever come out as being either gay or bisexual. We may secretly harbor suspicions about Andre 3000 or Kanye West or Vanilla Ice or whoever; it's not suspicions that matter. Orientation makes no difference to anything here. And more importantly it's really none of our business. It's not anyone's business who does what with who, save those doing the actual business in question. I guess Rap music became intensely pigeonholed in it's stereotypical masculinity and blatant homophobia for a while. Homophobic's were to hip-hop what the KKK were to the NAACP back in the '60's. This has always been an issue with hip-hop. It's not a new thing.
Amazingly though, support for Frank Ocean has seemingly been universal. Maybe this is what hip-hop's been needing for a long time. He's worked with Jay Z, so he's got the seal of approval; sorta like Moses with the burning bush and the locusts, etc. I doubt homophobia will cease to be an issue, not only in hip-hop but in society generally. Expecting homophobia to become eradicated completely is like expecting a rainless summer in Seattle, or expecting your favorite sports team to win every title available in their sport every year for the rest of forever. It's most likely not going to happen. But we can hope.
Even though homophobia still exists in Rap and in society generally, no one seems to care about this. Therefore the open letters on Tumblr and the lyrical inspiration behind Bad Religion don't make a difference. They are important, yes. They are significant to us culturally, yes; they are especially important to those of us who care about the culture of hip-hop. It is a big deal. But they don't take center stage here. The music does. The music on Channel ORANGE is the focus, and it speaks for itself.
Channel ORANGE is probably the best album I've heard all year. It's better than anything I've heard from the hip-hop world in a long time. It makes everything that other artists like Chris Brown and Usher are putting out sound like recycled garbage that's been auto-tuned and set to a club beat by the Swedish House Mafia or David Guetta. It's just a damn good album.
I've listened to Channel ORANGE twice now and I'm still blown away. To me the mark of good music is it's ability to make you feel something. I can't really relate to Frank Ocean's experiences. I've never had unrequited feelings for a man, and I've never lost my recording studio to a hurricane. But this doesn't mean that I can't enjoy the emotion that he shares with us on his songs and that I can't relate on some level to the things he's describing. I've been down, just like he has. I've had strong feelings for someone that weren't returned just like he has. I sometimes just want to party like Mr. Ocean just wants to party. The feelings I'm feeling as I listen to this masterpiece are familiar to me, because they are ordinary. He sings about ordinary things in a really beautiful way. That's why this album is so good. Because we can relate to it.
I am buying this album tomorrow so I can bump it in my car as I drive home from my job interview. I know that whether or not the interview goes well will be extremely important, but my feelings won't be; because this album will help me emote on the whole thing. I'll either want to party or sit in the back of a taxi and confess all my sins to a middle eastern cabby. Either way I'll be sorted. I take some comfort in that.
Saturday 14 July 2012
About last night...sorta.
Something quick today:
Anyway after 59 or so minutes of useless plot lines and should-I-shouldn't-I's regarding virginity finally someone dies. The killer is someone who wears black pointy toed boots, black bell bottom jeans, a brown belt (because he's supa-fly) a black turtleneck (again with the damn turtlenecks!) and a balaclava. He stalks his victims while simultaneously pimp-strolling to disco music. Why disco music? Because he's decided to go on his killing spree during the graduation disco! Not the Prom; a disco! A proper Saturday Night Fever disco! With a glowing dance floor and everything! This movie is too awesome!
Last night we had some friends over to hate-watch horror movies. Initially I didn't realize we here hate-watching, (maybe no one else noticed at all; maybe I was the only hater present?) but about 45 minutes into Prom Night it dawned on me that this is what we'd been doing all night. We'd already made it through one awful movie (Rogue River) commentating on almost every scene...hell, maybe every frame. It was so bad. No lie. Never watch this movie. Hold on...the DVD case is sitting on my living room floor right now, I can see it sitting there and I want to destroy it! It's tempting me to destroy it. I'm going to destroy it...
Graham walks away from the laptop, strolls over in front of the TV, picks up the DVD case ignoring the indignant glare from Kim (who only wants to watch Smash damn it!) looks at the abomination he's holding in his hands (with the same look you give feral cats); he opens the case and removes the DVD carefully... then, after 5 minutes of uncontrolled smashing...
Graham walks away from the laptop, strolls over in front of the TV, picks up the DVD case ignoring the indignant glare from Kim (who only wants to watch Smash damn it!) looks at the abomination he's holding in his hands (with the same look you give feral cats); he opens the case and removes the DVD carefully... then, after 5 minutes of uncontrolled smashing...
We're back. That was an ordeal. I owe you £3.00 Heather.
I don't want to waste anymore time talking about Rogue River. It was a bad movie that was amazingly fun to make fun of. That's that.
We also watched Prom Night (1980). The original; they did a remake a few years ago that was completely different and infinitely more enjoyable. I'm going to do a quick run through of what I can remember for my own amusement.
Prom Night opens with panoramic shots of an old, abandoned school building. Some badly dressed '70's kids pull up on bikes and run inside.
The little bitch whose the leader of this group decides to play Killer which I'm assuming is a morbid version of hide'n'seek; instead of getting caught you get killed, then you become a killer. In this game your Freddy Kruger.
Prom Night opens with panoramic shots of an old, abandoned school building. Some badly dressed '70's kids pull up on bikes and run inside.
The little bitch whose the leader of this group decides to play Killer which I'm assuming is a morbid version of hide'n'seek; instead of getting caught you get killed, then you become a killer. In this game your Freddy Kruger.
Some more badly dressed children show up outside the building. They really need to erect a fence around this bitch. It might save lives. And yes, I did just use the word erect. Ha. Two of the kids are wearing matching turtleneck's. Wow.
Cut scenes of little kids running around a dangerously old building. A door that's not on hinges falls when one kid runs through it. This is why America will never regain global dominance. Two of the three new kids leave including turtleneck boy. His sister stays.
She goes inside, she finds a little boy with a perm, he glares at her; when he realizes he's about to get caught he snitches and turns on her. If this was the joint homeboy would be getting sliced, yo.
The killers chase her, they corner her but wont stop shouting "Kill, Kill, KILL, KILL!" in her face. She falls backwards out a window. She's dead. The four kids in the building watch, then have a conversation. The dialogue goes like this:
Kid 1: She's dead. We need to go home.
Kid 2: Yeah, we need to go home.
Leader Bitch: "This didn't happen! We need to go home"
Kid 4: "See you all in Math tomorrow"
She goes inside, she finds a little boy with a perm, he glares at her; when he realizes he's about to get caught he snitches and turns on her. If this was the joint homeboy would be getting sliced, yo.
The killers chase her, they corner her but wont stop shouting "Kill, Kill, KILL, KILL!" in her face. She falls backwards out a window. She's dead. The four kids in the building watch, then have a conversation. The dialogue goes like this:
Kid 1: She's dead. We need to go home.
Kid 2: Yeah, we need to go home.
Leader Bitch: "This didn't happen! We need to go home"
Kid 4: "See you all in Math tomorrow"
They all get on bikes with huge wheels and flee the scene. Over the dead girls body we see a shadow fall; someone was watching. Someone saw. OH. MY. HELL. This won't end well...
Fast forward 6 years; Some pervert with a perm is making prank phone calls while scribbling names in a notepad. He makes obscene calls in a creepy voice. He's rocking back and forward and tapping the page like he's Keith Moon. He's excited. Was this ever a popular thing to do? In Scotland we go to McDonald's...I think the shadow with the perm making the phone calls is the same person who saw the little girl in the hideous turtleneck die...uh oh!
There's a lot of pointless plot details. The little girl who died had a sister. She's Jamie Lee Curtis. The little bitch from the start hates her for some reason, even though she killed Jamie's sister! The brother who was once the one in the matching turtleneck is now somehow a ninja. Oh, and Jamie Lee is dating the guy who was the little boy who bitched out and snitched on her dead sister...THIS KID HAS SOME SET OF BALLS ON HIM!!!
Fast forward 6 years; Some pervert with a perm is making prank phone calls while scribbling names in a notepad. He makes obscene calls in a creepy voice. He's rocking back and forward and tapping the page like he's Keith Moon. He's excited. Was this ever a popular thing to do? In Scotland we go to McDonald's...I think the shadow with the perm making the phone calls is the same person who saw the little girl in the hideous turtleneck die...uh oh!
There's a lot of pointless plot details. The little girl who died had a sister. She's Jamie Lee Curtis. The little bitch from the start hates her for some reason, even though she killed Jamie's sister! The brother who was once the one in the matching turtleneck is now somehow a ninja. Oh, and Jamie Lee is dating the guy who was the little boy who bitched out and snitched on her dead sister...THIS KID HAS SOME SET OF BALLS ON HIM!!!
There's also some guy who's got a mono-brow and he's wearing a medallion! He moonlights for the mob! He's Donnie Brasco.
Anyway after 59 or so minutes of useless plot lines and should-I-shouldn't-I's regarding virginity finally someone dies. The killer is someone who wears black pointy toed boots, black bell bottom jeans, a brown belt (because he's supa-fly) a black turtleneck (again with the damn turtlenecks!) and a balaclava. He stalks his victims while simultaneously pimp-strolling to disco music. Why disco music? Because he's decided to go on his killing spree during the graduation disco! Not the Prom; a disco! A proper Saturday Night Fever disco! With a glowing dance floor and everything! This movie is too awesome!
Balaclava boy prances! He kills one of the girls who killed turtleneck girl by stabbing her in the throat with a shard of glass (impractical weapon). While he does this he sorta pirouettes and stabs, going down and up, down and up. He looks like a ballerina using a plunger on a super clogged toilet. He is not an effective bad guy.
I can't bear to describe this anymore, turns out it was the dead girls brother. Oh, and he's obviously Jamie Lee Curtis' brother too. She cold clocks him with an ax, kills him. Why was she the main character in this movie? She was never in danger! If your the main character in a horror movie, shouldn't your life be threatened at least once? Yeah. Thought so. Screw you Jamie Lee.
I'm so glad I had friends with me to watch this awful movie...otherwise I might have missed out on something totally memorable that's totally memorable for all the wrong reasons.
I'm so glad I had friends with me to watch this awful movie...otherwise I might have missed out on something totally memorable that's totally memorable for all the wrong reasons.
Tuesday 10 July 2012
Rap and Country.
I discovered Spotify last night. Ever since I downloaded the free Spotify app for my iPhone I've spent the better part of 14 hours searching the database for obscure rap/hip-hop albums. I've also downloaded some not so obscure albums too. There's really only so long you can search "Bun-B" before you need to separate yourself from one genre and search another. I naturally shifted my focus to Country Music.
I'm a huge Country Fan (seriously) and as such I was extremely excited to see that Spotify has a huge Country Music selection. This doesn't mean that I'm tired of Hip-Hop. Never. Rap to me is as soap to water in a shower. One without the other won't function correctly. I'll always need a dose of Rap in my life to fully function. I'm not entirely sure why I'll always need mildly threatening Urban American artists who rhyme about things I'll never fully understand, or be able to relate to to get as much out of life as I enjoy getting. It doesn't make sense. It's just an irrefutable fact of existence.
But alone, it's not enough to get me by. It used to be. As a thirteen to seventeen year old, Rap was my my sole source of musical nourishment. After a while it got boring. I couldn't figure out why. I now realize that this is like eating nothing but white bread, then wondering why you find your diet bland. It doesn't mean you don't enjoy white bread, it just means you need something more than that alone. Same with Rap. I love Rap but it's just not enough to nourish me totally.
This is where Country comes in. I've been experiencing Country since I was 7 years old listening to Come on Over during summer visits to Modesto, California. I never actively realized that I liked what I was hearing. I just jumped around to "Man! I Feel Like a Woman!" In hindsight this seems a little odd...but I'm not questioning anything. I listened to Country on vacation. Whenever my Aunt got behind the wheel of a car we were tuned in to the local Country station. So to me, Summer sounds like steel guitars and Southern Charm.
As far as musical similarity and style goes you really can't get two musical genres so different. There's a huge musical divide between Country and Rap. I like to play both sides of this musical divide. Country fans rarely enjoy Rap; Rap fans rarely enjoy Country. There are exceptions but usually this is a general rule. Alan Jackson fans don't regularly bump N.W.A. between Chattahoochee and Precious Memories. But I will do this. Regularly. Right now I'm bumping Nu Mixx Klazzic's by Tupac, and following this I plan on throwing some Kenny C (as in Chesney) on up in this bitch!
I may have found in Spotify my new substitute for crack. Bless you Spotify. You have created a credible way for me to enjoy all the terrible music I want.
VS 
Now that I possess access to both Netflix and Spotify, I sense a technological battle of semi-epic proportions. Both sides vying for my attention. Not a little here and a little there. No. The attention will be undivided. I fear there can only be one winner.
It'll be like the battle between:
Small Soldiers was an awesome movie, right? There could only be one winner in the end in the showdown between the Gorgonites and the Commando Elite. So too with Netflix and Spotify. There can only be one winner. I think Spotify edges ahead because I've watched all the Breaking Bad available and now it's time to discover music.
I remember a time when I used to read...
Screw it! I like music, television and the internet. Make the three available in one convenient location (my iPhone) and that puts an end to any literary integrity I once possessed.
Oh well...I wonder what else I can find on Spotify.
I'm a huge Country Fan (seriously) and as such I was extremely excited to see that Spotify has a huge Country Music selection. This doesn't mean that I'm tired of Hip-Hop. Never. Rap to me is as soap to water in a shower. One without the other won't function correctly. I'll always need a dose of Rap in my life to fully function. I'm not entirely sure why I'll always need mildly threatening Urban American artists who rhyme about things I'll never fully understand, or be able to relate to to get as much out of life as I enjoy getting. It doesn't make sense. It's just an irrefutable fact of existence.
But alone, it's not enough to get me by. It used to be. As a thirteen to seventeen year old, Rap was my my sole source of musical nourishment. After a while it got boring. I couldn't figure out why. I now realize that this is like eating nothing but white bread, then wondering why you find your diet bland. It doesn't mean you don't enjoy white bread, it just means you need something more than that alone. Same with Rap. I love Rap but it's just not enough to nourish me totally.
This is where Country comes in. I've been experiencing Country since I was 7 years old listening to Come on Over during summer visits to Modesto, California. I never actively realized that I liked what I was hearing. I just jumped around to "Man! I Feel Like a Woman!" In hindsight this seems a little odd...but I'm not questioning anything. I listened to Country on vacation. Whenever my Aunt got behind the wheel of a car we were tuned in to the local Country station. So to me, Summer sounds like steel guitars and Southern Charm.
As far as musical similarity and style goes you really can't get two musical genres so different. There's a huge musical divide between Country and Rap. I like to play both sides of this musical divide. Country fans rarely enjoy Rap; Rap fans rarely enjoy Country. There are exceptions but usually this is a general rule. Alan Jackson fans don't regularly bump N.W.A. between Chattahoochee and Precious Memories. But I will do this. Regularly. Right now I'm bumping Nu Mixx Klazzic's by Tupac, and following this I plan on throwing some Kenny C (as in Chesney) on up in this bitch!
I may have found in Spotify my new substitute for crack. Bless you Spotify. You have created a credible way for me to enjoy all the terrible music I want.
VS Now that I possess access to both Netflix and Spotify, I sense a technological battle of semi-epic proportions. Both sides vying for my attention. Not a little here and a little there. No. The attention will be undivided. I fear there can only be one winner.
It'll be like the battle between:
Small Soldiers was an awesome movie, right? There could only be one winner in the end in the showdown between the Gorgonites and the Commando Elite. So too with Netflix and Spotify. There can only be one winner. I think Spotify edges ahead because I've watched all the Breaking Bad available and now it's time to discover music.
I remember a time when I used to read...
Screw it! I like music, television and the internet. Make the three available in one convenient location (my iPhone) and that puts an end to any literary integrity I once possessed.
Oh well...I wonder what else I can find on Spotify.
Saturday 7 July 2012
Insomnia
Last night I said I'd write something about something less serious than nostalgia. I think I mentioned the ballooning density of Nicki Minaj's butt as a possible topic of bloggersation (because that is afterall a real word). Well, I was lying when I said that; I have no intention of ever writing anything about that...not unless it mysteriously grows again and my friend Iona is there to point it out...then I'll have to comment. I'll have no choice.
No, today I'll write about something that's not so much dear to my heart, but more a pain in my ass...
"When you have insomnia, you're never really asleep... and you're never really awake"
This may be the truest line of dialogue ever spoken in an Edward Norton movie. That's from Fight Club which is, excluding maybe American History X, Ed Norton's best movie. Be honest, you never saw Incredible Hulk, did you? Didn't think so. But you have seen Fight Club...or have you? (If you have, and your not talking about it then good; you clearly know the rules of Fight Club.) If you haven't then shame on you. It's pretty awesome.
Edwards unnamed protagonist in Fight Club suffers from crippling insomnia. He can't sleep soundly on his IKEA bed, or anywhere else for that matter. He's never asleep, but then again; he's never really awake either.
That's an awful way to live, going day to day with little sleep. Often no sleep. Insomnia. I get it. I've got it.
This is the eighth straight day that I've been awake to see the sunrise (I'm speaking figuratively here; the sun never shines in Scotland.) I'm awake when the day begins, and I'm still awake when it ends. I get maybe 2 hours of sleep a night. If I'm really lucky. Obviously this is not an ideal situation. I climb into my own IKEA bed, hike up the duvet close my eyes...and then I open them again minutes later, when I realize that I'm not actually going to sleep tonight. This has been going on for eight days. I have had roughly 17 hours of sleep out of a possible 192.
The two weeks previous to these hellish eight days were much the same, only I eventually crashed one afternoon and ended up sleeping for seventeen hours. That was semi-restless, full of nightmares, but it was still sleep. I've pretty much been awake since then.
I'm starting to understand how this guy felt:
I'm not advocating attempted murder; no way! But remember when Jacky went a little stir-crazy in the Overlook Hotel? Yeah, I get it. All work and no play (plus no sleep, probably) makes Jack a dull boy indeed. It also severely pisses Graham off too.
There's that great scene in The Shining where we see Jack just standing over his wife in their room, looking at her with mad eyes, a homicidal demeanor and you can tell, just plain old exhaustion; I can totally relate to this exhaustion. I'm more than exhausted.
I just went out to my car and had a conversation with an English man who was walking down the hill that our street sits on, he was carrying a thermos and talking about cats and drunk teenagers. it's 5:41am. I am about 62.7% sure that this didn't actually happen. I think I'm starting to lose it. For someone who likes to pride himself on his rationality this is slightly worrying. And by slightly I mean terrifyingly.
I'm so damn tired that I'm actually sitting here listening to Santana tracks. Which Santana tracks? I'm not sure; ones with guitar solos. I'm hoping they bore me to sleep eventually...but the prognosis on this is not looking too great.
He sorta looks like Jerry Stiller, or more appropriately, Arthur from King of Queens...
The blogging probably isn't helping, but I'm not going to sleep anyway So why not do something that's enjoyable? it beats the hell out of staring up at the ceiling for hours counting the minutes and hours that slip by.
I can pinpoint where this started, but not why. I know that it started around about the middle of the Playoffs. It hasn't gone since. If watching basketball is what caused this insomnia then it totally wasn't worth it! Okay, that's a lie. It was. But damn, if I'd have know it was going to become such a major imposition I'd have just payed for the ESPN package, recorded the games then watched them later! Would have saved me a lot of stress and headaches (I've got one long headache that's perpetually pounding on my frontal lobe)! I wouldn't be awake at 5:50 listening to the same long Santana guitar solo on ten different Santana songs from three different Santana albums (shake things up a bit hombre!). I'd be lying asleep next to my wife in my IKEA bed.
I can relate to the feeling of the protagonist from Fight Club. I get what his deal was. He couldn't sleep and it was playing with his emotions (What up Big Perm...Big Worm!)* I understand because my emotions are being played with too.
* Please tell me someone got the Friday reference there?
I'm done with Santana.
"Bad Medicine" by Bon Jovi just started up on the old iPod. Possible the greatest song ever written, right? Maybe that's just my exhaustion talking. I hope so, Bon Jovi actually suck (in a totally listenable way). If I'm starting to believe that this is the greatest song ever written then I really have problems. It's not even the best song ever written about medicine! That accolade totally goes to "Sexual Healing" which I know technically isn't about medicine (well, it's never explicitly mentioned) but medicine heals, and that's good enough for me.
Okay, I guess it's time to go and continue watching Charlie Murphy: I will not Apologize on Netflix. Yup, I actually did just say that. And I actually will enjoy it. I will not apologize.
No, today I'll write about something that's not so much dear to my heart, but more a pain in my ass...
"When you have insomnia, you're never really asleep... and you're never really awake"
This may be the truest line of dialogue ever spoken in an Edward Norton movie. That's from Fight Club which is, excluding maybe American History X, Ed Norton's best movie. Be honest, you never saw Incredible Hulk, did you? Didn't think so. But you have seen Fight Club...or have you? (If you have, and your not talking about it then good; you clearly know the rules of Fight Club.) If you haven't then shame on you. It's pretty awesome.
Edwards unnamed protagonist in Fight Club suffers from crippling insomnia. He can't sleep soundly on his IKEA bed, or anywhere else for that matter. He's never asleep, but then again; he's never really awake either.
That's an awful way to live, going day to day with little sleep. Often no sleep. Insomnia. I get it. I've got it.
This is the eighth straight day that I've been awake to see the sunrise (I'm speaking figuratively here; the sun never shines in Scotland.) I'm awake when the day begins, and I'm still awake when it ends. I get maybe 2 hours of sleep a night. If I'm really lucky. Obviously this is not an ideal situation. I climb into my own IKEA bed, hike up the duvet close my eyes...and then I open them again minutes later, when I realize that I'm not actually going to sleep tonight. This has been going on for eight days. I have had roughly 17 hours of sleep out of a possible 192.
The two weeks previous to these hellish eight days were much the same, only I eventually crashed one afternoon and ended up sleeping for seventeen hours. That was semi-restless, full of nightmares, but it was still sleep. I've pretty much been awake since then.
I'm starting to understand how this guy felt:
I'm not advocating attempted murder; no way! But remember when Jacky went a little stir-crazy in the Overlook Hotel? Yeah, I get it. All work and no play (plus no sleep, probably) makes Jack a dull boy indeed. It also severely pisses Graham off too.
There's that great scene in The Shining where we see Jack just standing over his wife in their room, looking at her with mad eyes, a homicidal demeanor and you can tell, just plain old exhaustion; I can totally relate to this exhaustion. I'm more than exhausted.
I just went out to my car and had a conversation with an English man who was walking down the hill that our street sits on, he was carrying a thermos and talking about cats and drunk teenagers. it's 5:41am. I am about 62.7% sure that this didn't actually happen. I think I'm starting to lose it. For someone who likes to pride himself on his rationality this is slightly worrying. And by slightly I mean terrifyingly.
I'm so damn tired that I'm actually sitting here listening to Santana tracks. Which Santana tracks? I'm not sure; ones with guitar solos. I'm hoping they bore me to sleep eventually...but the prognosis on this is not looking too great.
He sorta looks like Jerry Stiller, or more appropriately, Arthur from King of Queens...
The blogging probably isn't helping, but I'm not going to sleep anyway So why not do something that's enjoyable? it beats the hell out of staring up at the ceiling for hours counting the minutes and hours that slip by.
I can pinpoint where this started, but not why. I know that it started around about the middle of the Playoffs. It hasn't gone since. If watching basketball is what caused this insomnia then it totally wasn't worth it! Okay, that's a lie. It was. But damn, if I'd have know it was going to become such a major imposition I'd have just payed for the ESPN package, recorded the games then watched them later! Would have saved me a lot of stress and headaches (I've got one long headache that's perpetually pounding on my frontal lobe)! I wouldn't be awake at 5:50 listening to the same long Santana guitar solo on ten different Santana songs from three different Santana albums (shake things up a bit hombre!). I'd be lying asleep next to my wife in my IKEA bed.
I can relate to the feeling of the protagonist from Fight Club. I get what his deal was. He couldn't sleep and it was playing with his emotions (What up Big Perm...Big Worm!)* I understand because my emotions are being played with too.
* Please tell me someone got the Friday reference there?
I'm done with Santana.
"Bad Medicine" by Bon Jovi just started up on the old iPod. Possible the greatest song ever written, right? Maybe that's just my exhaustion talking. I hope so, Bon Jovi actually suck (in a totally listenable way). If I'm starting to believe that this is the greatest song ever written then I really have problems. It's not even the best song ever written about medicine! That accolade totally goes to "Sexual Healing" which I know technically isn't about medicine (well, it's never explicitly mentioned) but medicine heals, and that's good enough for me.
Okay, I guess it's time to go and continue watching Charlie Murphy: I will not Apologize on Netflix. Yup, I actually did just say that. And I actually will enjoy it. I will not apologize.
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