1.24.2005

Planet Perspex

Today I found something fun: the Department of Defense website. I had no idea they were so forthcoming with information. There's all kinds of fun things here, including articles with titles like "Birthing Democracy a Painful Process" (isn't it painful to birth anything?), and photos of all sorts of fun stuff, like this one of Dubya visiting Camp X-Ray. I find it interesting that the one organization in this company that has the most to hide has a very informative and thorough website. I suppose there's a lot of info that we just don't realize is at our fingertips with the aid of a computer and the blessed mother of broadband. Go check out that DoD site. There's a lot of stuff to wade through. It might all be BS, I don't know, but it's interesting nonetheless.


Manganese Gluconate Make You Strong Like Ox!

I love you, Emer'gen-C.



1.23.2005

You're Having the Time of My Life

As I have stated many, many times before on this site, I am a DJ. Not in a dance club, but a club nonetheless. The beauty of it is that I'm not restricted to dance music. The place where I DJ is the Garden Bowl, which is a part of the Majestic Theater Center. This also includes the somewhat infamous Magic Stick. By being a DJ in a non-dance club type club, I get to witness all kinds of absurdity. There are the ridiculous comments about "white" and "black" music, the completely subjective "play something I know" comment, and the typical assumption that I am either (a) a DJ at a meat-market style dance club, or (b) a mind reader.

Last night, a particularly bland woman felt the need to harass me. Twice, she asked me to play the Violent Femmes. She obviously wasn't listening the first time when I told her I didn't have any. If you ask me once, and I say 'no, I don't have any' then the chances that I have it an hour later are not very good. No, I didn't drive out to a 24-hour record store to buy what you wanted to hear in between the first and last time. Sorry. Later, she asked me to play some hip hop. This, of course, was while I was playing "My Mind's Playing Tricks On Me" from the Geto Boys. After pointing out the obvious to her, she asked me to play some "dance music." Then she added, "but make it something I know. Something I can dance to." Right. It seems that at that point, she was giving me permission to crawl inside her mind and know what it is that she knows. Give me a fucking break, people. I know that the pitcher of Bud Light you just drank is making you stupid, but honestly, are you really that dumb? Must I be forced into a semantics argument over what is subjective and what is not every time I DJ? Are DJs at cheesy nightclubs all mind-readers? Am I missing something? Oh, she also wanted me to play something she could sing along to, because that's the only way she can dance to a song. Her hips are not slaves to the rhythm, only the words, I guess.


East Coast Supersound Punk of Today

An update of sorts...

I smoke way too much. Cigarettes taste funny right now, too. So does Jameson Irish Whiskey. Last month, the whiskey was so sweet. It was like there was a batch straight outta Dublin meant just for downtown Detroit in December '04. It's good that it isn't so sweet anymore. I don't need that shit. It's probably just the sinus infection. God, I feel for you people who get sick all the time and/or are allergic to everything. This blows. It's probably meant to be. I need something to make me stop drinking so much. I'm not an alcoholic or anything, but I'm drinking out of boredom and a need to be around people. If I go out and I drink coffee, then I can't sleep and I get up too late for work. But I'm always late for work, so what's the point?

Today, a friend reminded me of the Urban Audio Response CDs I was making for awhile. I started making compilations of music with no track listing, just a sticker that said "rocknrollscientist," then elsewhere, the URL for this site was listed, and I had instructions on here for what to do if you wanted to find the track listing. The point was that I would leave these in random places in hopes of completely random people finding them. Instead, I just gave them out to a couple of friends. Now I have a decent color printer, so I think I might start doing it again, but with some liner notes with random absurdities.

I thoroughly enjoy absurdity. It grounds me. That's rather opposite from the norm, isn't it? Whatever. I just wanted to spread around some good and different music to completely unsuspecting people.

I've spent some time lately 're-discovering' some music that I always wanted to, but never really explored in the past. For an example, Ben Folds Five. Damn, that guy could write a good pop song. So could Matthew Sweet. "Do I listen to pop music because I'm miserable or am I miserable because listen to pop music?" It's probably the latter, but it's all I've ever done, I don't know any better. Ever since I got the Beatles "White Album" when I was 11. All downhill since then. Watching the end of "Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind" with the Beck song made me want to look into his more recent stuff. So I got "Sea Change." It's so obviously a breakup album, but it could also be about death. So country, so folk, so depressingly earnest. It hits hard, but in a good way. Some of the music I'm getting my greasy fingers on is with purpose. Not just because I never looked into it, and always wanted to, but because I had a very good reference, and I did listen to him when he told me about this stuff, but I never went ahead and got any of it. Okay, Tim, I'm listening. Bob Mould is a genius. Whether it's Husker Du, or his solo albums, or Sugar, he is a fucking genius. One of the most unique voices in music. I can't even describe it. Devo's "Duty Now for the Future" was recorded in 1979, but it could be the next big thing. I listen to stuff like Soft Pink Truth and I hear something that Devo could be doing right now. Then again, if you watch "Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou," and you pay attention to the goofy little electro songs, then you ARE hearing what Devo does right now. Those songs, as well as most of the classical orchestration in the film are from Devo's Mark Mothersbaugh.

By the way, check out that link to Soft Pink Truth. The first album is minimalist electro, but the latest one, "Do You Want New Wave, or Do You Want the Soft Pink Truth?" is all covers of punk music. The covers are very specific choices due to their social values and cause and affect. For an example, they do "Out of Step" from Minor Threat and "Do They Owe Us a Living" from Crass. Now, I know, it sounds like sacrilege, but I'm open-minded towards these things, and honestly, it sounds good, and the songs sound appropriate in this state. Not better, but definitely different.

I've also acquired some more David Bowie. I've always liked Bowie, but I've been very slow to get any more from him. So, now I have "Hunky Dory," "Diamond Dogs," and "Pinups," and the "Peel Sessions," and "Aladdin Sane." All worth it. The influence there was two-fold. "The Life Aquatic" soundtrack has not only "Life On Mars," and "Queen Bitch," but it also has a Portuguese pop star (Seu Jorge) covering several of Bowie's songs in Portuguese. That made me want to go out and get more, as well as knowing how much Tim liked Bowie. Those Seu Jorge covers are great, by the way. Being a fan of Brazilian jazz, pop, and tropicalisme, which is all in Portuguese probably has something to do with it.

Oh, another Tim influence, Hubble Bubble. You know that song "Jet Boy, Jet Girl" from The Damned? Okay, that's a cover of a pop song from a Frenchman named Bertrand Bertrand. The original song was called "Ca Plane Pour Moi." The Damned changed the lyrics. Anyhoo, Bertrand Bertrand's previous thing before going solo was a punk band called Hubble Bubble. This shit is NOT easy to find. But if you're into late '70s British-style punk, then you'd love this. At times it sounds like the Rezillos, at other times it's like the Buzzcocks or even like the Misfits.

Okay, this has gone on long enough. The time is now, people! Tomorrow we blow up the moon.


1.21.2005

Obscene Corporate Whoredom

I can understand putting a character from a film on a bottle of water to sell bottled water, Shrek for an example. I can understand making a version of Monopoly based on different cities to make it seem special and more personal. But, what I cannot understand is why anyone would buy bottled water because it has Donald Trump's face on it. Or what about "Trump: The Game?" There's also Trump's PC game "Real Estate Tycoon," and of course, how can we not avoid being smacked in the face on a daily basis with news about Trump's reality TV turd "The Apprentice?" Now, the 'Donald' is pushing the 'Western Angus Steak Burger' at Burger King. It was designed (is that the right term?) by the winning team on the first season of "The Apprentice." The burger itself is basically the old Barbecue Bacon Double Cheeseburger from Rally's (who sadly don't carry it anymore), except it isn't a double: onion rings, barbecue sauce, cheese, lettuce, onion, tomato, and the steak-burger.

As various forces conspire to limit and change the face of TV and radio advertising (i.e. satellite radio for one example), we will start to see a rise in 'creative' marketing like the aforementioned burger. Last year, during the Olympics in Greece, large banners with ads on them were hung from the sides of the ruins of the Acropolis. All taxis and cabs now have ads on them, some even have screens that change to show different ads that are relevant to where the vehicle is at geographically. We can't get away from it. There will always be some schmuck like Donald Trump who feels the need to take a mile with every little inch he's given. Soon, we won't be able to listen to a CD without having to hear an advertisement between songs.



Hail Satan!

A few weeks ago, a photo was published online. It was Laura Bush showing what looked to be the devil sign with her hand. She had her index finger and her pinky raised. The origin of that is dubious, and irrelevant (it doesn't go back very far, and supposedly originated with '80s heavy metal music). Of course, it became an internet joke about the Bushes worshipping satan. Which is funny. Maybe. I'm sure there are plenty of Illuminati conspiracy theorists out there flipping out over the whole thing.

Supposedly, it's also the symbol for the University of Texas Longhorns. The Longhorns marching band played the inauguration/coronation yesterday, and GW himself saluted satan, I mean the Longhorns. Is there a double meaning? Did Bush slip up? Is it true that Bush is just a puppet in a centuries-old worldwide conspiracy to rule the world? Will the Bush sisters become the next Nicky and Paris Hilton? Tune in next time, because I probably won't have the answers.



Ex Lion Tamer

According to an article in today's Wall Street Journal, Michael Powell, the head commissioner of the FCC is stepping down today. The WSJ almost makes it sound like it's a bad thing. Powell is Mr. Colin Powell's son, by the way. Surprisingly, most people didn't give him much shit over that. Michael Powell's legacy lies with two things mostly: Janet Jackson's feelthy, feelthy nipple, and de-regulation. He is the reason ClearChannel can own interests in 248 of the top 250 radio markets in this country. He is the reason that we have retreated back to '50s values on indecency in television. According to the WSJ, Powell was an underdog ignored by the Bush administration. Whatever. The reality is that they were afraid of the effects of anything Powell wanted to do. Everything he did or wanted to do was aimed at all the telecom and media companies making lots more money, and in theory, driving the economy up out of where we're at, which is almost repression. Right. I don't think there's any way Bush could possibly appoint a bigger asshole to head up the FCC. Which is a good thing. I should add that when questioned about his values based in a time before he was born, Powell is very cocky. Fuck him.


1.18.2005

Hit Song Science

I want to post a lucid and well thought out rant to this one, but I think I'll just have to let you decide for yourself. I'm tired and feeling especially stupid right now. First, go to this article in the Guardian UK. Then, you can go here and here to get even more information from the company itself. This shit is just so mind-blowing to me. The cause and effect and the possible outcomes of this getting popular are absurd. Complete and wretched absurdity.


1.07.2005

Candy Says

Sometimes I wish I could have releveant dreams. Or, at least, dreams that seem to mean something. Some people have completely discredited Freud's dream analysis as complete bullshit. Maybe it is, I don't know, but the dreams I have don't fit into any kind of pattern.

People have been telling me lately that they've seen the dead in their dreams. I don't. The only dreams I actually remember (mostly) are lucid dreams, which I suppose is typical. The deep sleep REM dreams are the ones that I tend to mistake for reality, and it's always about something far back in the past. Like when I was ten or eleven and I asked my mom about a dog we used to have when I was really little. I described it in perfect detail, and she had no idea what I was talking about. It was only a dream.

There actually are a few patterns in my lucid dreams. Often, I'll dream that I'm walking down a hallway, usually towards an elevator, and I'm walking funny because I have super-springy feet. Or shoes, or something, I don't know. Another pattern is language. A couple years ago, I started having dreams in Windows. As in Microsoft Windows. All the places that I wanted to go to were minimized on the task bar, and I would hit alt+tab to scroll through the destinations on the task bar. I'd open windows and hit alt+spacebar+x to maximize the window, and then alt+spacebar+n to minimize it back to the taskbar. Is that weird? It got weirder after I started getting more involved with formatting HTML and CSS script. I started making things bold and hyperlinked in my dreams using greater-than and less-than symbols to enclose the tags. But everything was in black or white because those are the only two hexadecimal codes that I know by heart. No grayscale, no color, just high contrast FFFFFF and 000000. But, the setting of these dreams wasn't a computer monitor, it's like I was walking around with a taskbar at the bottom of my line of sight, and just keeping my arms at my sides like normal, but moving my fingers as if each hand was on one-half of a keyboard.

Maybe I need to get away from computers for awhile.


Every Bloody Bathroom Sink

As some of you are aware, I work in an office. As you may know, working in an office can get boring, and sometimes, all you really can do is fuck with management. Because it's fun.

First, you need to know this: We have three laserjet printers in the office. One of them is dedicated to one person's computer. The other two are for everyone to use. Second, you need to know this: I have a boss who is no longer my boss. For three years, he was the Operations Manager, but there were some things shifted around a little while ago, and now he is still a supervisor of some sort (no one really knows what it is he supervises), and on occasion he forgets that he is no longer my boss.

One of the two main printers is right next to my computer. It's there because when they put the new cubicle walls into the office, and re-wired the room with new cat-4 cable, they forgot to bring a cable for this particular printer, so we had to make one using some spare connectors and a short piece of cable. No matter what, the cable is so short that the only two places for the printer are on either side of my computer. It has now been several months, and they still haven't gone out and bought a longer cable so that the printer can be a few feet away from me instead of practically on top of me.

This is how I cope. The boss who's no longer my boss prints out every single email he gets because he isn't capable of just saving them to appropriately titled folders in his Outlook inbox. He is in fact an idiot. He prints out these emails, and then they sit on this printer for hours, sometimes days at a time. Starting earlier this week, I've been throwing out every other page that he prints out. If I throw out all of the pages, he'll get the IT guy involved, who will find that there's nothing wrong with the computer or the printer or the network connection and knows me, and will quickly figure out what's going on. If I only throw out one a day, it won't be noticeable enough. So, I throw out every other page. It's more fun this way. And he keeps re-printing the pages I throw out, and then I throw out every other one of those, so he has to keep re-printing different pages. I love it. Being an asshole is fun.