Fastball

Fastball has a new album out today, so I'm writing about it before I ever hear it. I have a problem with new albums from bands that I love. I never like them at first. I don't know why, but my first day with an album is always a disappointment. Fastball has been this way for me, so have Spoon, Rufus Wainwright, and the Strokes. Almost always, I go on to love the album, but it takes awhile. So, I'm experimenting this time, and getting all my negative feelings out beforehand. Now we'll see what happens when I listen.

I'm also looking to buy the new Franz Ferdinand album. I'm still not so sold on their previous one, but I've discovered another interesting facet that colors my view of an album (like cover artwork): release date. There is something to be said about being contemporary. Maybe it comes from studying music of the sixties and wondering what it was like to hear this music in context. But I happen to enjoy an album differently (not necessarily more or less) when I know that other people are also hearing it for the first time.

It's a surprising revelation, actually, how much more goes into my view of music than just music. My opinion of the artist (or in some cases, only the limited view of the artist's image) shapes my opinion of their songs. I guess it's like blindfolded taste-tests; the tongue has a different taste for things without the eyes telling it what to expect.

Playoff!

I don't care if college football playoff games won't sell out. Not every bowl even does right now anyway. Remember those reports about how cheap Orange Bowl tickets were going for the day of the game? So, now today I hear some nobody sportscaster opining that we shouldn't have a playoff because the games won't sell out.

What B.S.

Yes, of course I understand what big business college football is. But it is still a sport, and not even a professional one at that. If the integrity of the game is to be preserved, all other considerations besides fairness must be pushed aside. End of discussion.

The NCAA and the Presidents and Athletic Directors of the BCS conferences have proven that they could care less about fair play. It's about the money. It's worse than the other rigged sports like Professional Wrestling or the NBA because at least in those sports the athletes are getting paid.

Sure, the college athlete gets a scholarship, and I'm not going to disparage the scholarship itself. Nor the degrees these athletes earn. Other people diminish this accomplishment, but I'll never understand why. It's an honorable compensation for their efforts. There's two other things that upset me instead.

First, academic dishonesty. Universities either lower their academic standards or actually cheat in order to attract skilled athletes that would otherwise be academically ineligible. The Universities themselves are cheapening the athlete's education and the degree conferred upon them. In essense, they are diminishing the compensation to the athlete. They are saying that their education is worth nothing. So, thanks alot for that.

Secondly, there is the greater effect that a football program has on a University's finances. Not only does a successful football program boost student applications to the school, but the more profitable a program is, the less of a burden it is on tuition-payers. This is important because it means the BCS gives an advantage to certain institutions of higher learning. This then affects (to exactly what degree, I can't say) their research capabilities, their grants, the economies of the surrounding cities, and the state that funds them in part. So, when someone says this isn't Congress's problem, I respectfully disagree.

You Liar!

Laura Ingraham, you are a liar. We did not receive three feet of snow during your stay in Utah. We did not receive another three this morning. Not even at Alta, where you stayed during your trip. It was a bizarre moment for me to be driving down a clear street with the sun shining, and hear your voice on the radio proclaiming that I was covered by three feet of snow. You lied.

Furthermore, I thought you knew that Utah is a very Republican state. I'm fairly certain that a good portion of locals at the lodge at Alta were conservative. When they reacted as your daughter said "Put Barack in the fire!" I think it wasn't just because they were mindless "libs," as you accuse, but rather, they were simply decent people who couldn't help but feel disgusted at the suggestion of the immolation of our president.

Please, kindly shut up. Thank you.

P.S. Also on the topic of AM Talk Radio Right Wing Douchebags, I'm wondering if, in all fifteen years of his talk show, Michael Savage has ever EVER gone a single broadcast without comparing Liberals to Nazis. EVER?!

Stu takes first! Does Stu take second?

Well, the Utes won. And the Utes lost. The Red Rocks Gymnastics team went down to BYU and smashed them 197.800 to whatever low score the Cougars got. Ute fans absolutely outnumbered BYU fans by about 200 - 50. It made Emily and I wish we had gone down there. Madeleine wanted to go too, since it looked a lot quieter than Ute meets. It's sad to see Kristina Baskett and Nina Kim leave; they've been our favorites ever since the first meet we attended.

And the Runnin' Utes lost to Arizona in the opening round of the NCAA playoffs. Even though I held out hope until the end, and was sincerely excited when they started fighting back with five minutes to go, it was glaringly obvious to me from the start that Arizona was going to win. Their guys were just all over the floor, hassling the Utes and showing endless energy. As I write this, Cleveland State is leading Wake Forest, but I would expect either team to lose to Arizona in the next round after what I've seen tonight.

There, you see? I blogged again. Maybe there is some hope for this becoming actively used again. The embarrassing thing is the how edited my former posts are. Everything you see posted prior to today has been edited by me sometime in 2005. I went back and cleaned out all the bad language and cutting out "unworthy" stuff. How foolish of me. What's the point of polishing this up?

The World Needs More Blogs

No it doesn't. So I'm just resurrecting my old one. I would find it embarrassingly hilarious if I made this particular post one of those "This is what my blog will be about" posts, then follow it up with absolutely nothing. You can find those littering the landscape of the blogosphere. It's awesome.

Speaking of littered blogospheres, there's a thought that's been kicking around my head. And since getting my thoughts into writing is what my blog will be about, here we go.

I think about how much of history is simply lost. There are billions of unaccounted-for lives that were lived with no written record of their accomplishments. And every lifetime contains accomplishments. Even large, powerful civilizations have had their written records lost to history. And we think we're so lucky now that everything is adequately catalogued and filed away so that every last detail of our life and times are preserved for the ages.

But do have any idea how much CRAP is recorded too? Look at the damn "Blogosphere" or YouTube or Twitter or imagine how many copies of People or Us or Entertainment Weekly have been printed that have preserved exactly nothing of historical value. Well, not the important stuff. Nothing that will enlighten future researchers in their understanding of the early 21st Century. All of the important details of our time will be buried underneath a mountain of useless information.

Of course, it all depends on what is considered important. I realize that. My point was more to illustrate just how equally transient in time we are to those lost civilizations. All this will be gone, everything we have constructed will be eroded away, and everything we have written will go unread.

Like this. Heh.

Anywho, one other thought I must get out before I lose it; my love of the words "nuanced" and "robust." Specifically because they can be used to describe their own usage. To use the word "nuanced" is to have a nuanced understanding of your subject, the word, and its usage. Furthermore, if you use "robust" in describing something, you are also declaring your robust support for calling it so. At least that's the way I think of it. They're fantastic words.

P.S. Reminder to myself if I'm reading this about 360 or so days from now - go with your gut when you're filling out your NCAA Bracket!!! Again this year I got bit in the opening round, wondering why I changed my mind on picking Texas A&M, Michigan, and Maryland.

Transistor Hut!

How the hell is Radio Shack still in business? If I have to explain to the employee of a electronics supplies store what a 15-pin male-to-female SVGA cable looks like, or what a TRS quarter inch / Stereo RCA adapter does, I really don't feel as though I'm getting top-notch service. It doesn't matter anyway, because they don't have them there. I don't know what in the hell they do have, other than useless random parts I have to take home and solder just to get them to do what I need. And nobody is ever in the store except for three employees, each asking me if I want a free cell phone with my purchase.

No. I don't want a cell phone. I see people driving in to work at eight in the morning, talking on their phones (and tailgating me). Who the hell are they talking to that early in the morning? "What did you do today?" "Well, I brushed my teeth with that new Emeril toothpaste..." I don't have a damn thing to say to anyone before three frappochinos (and I know that spelling is incorrect. It's a mark of my shame for being addicted to a product of a soul sucking corporation. Who needs three goddamn Starbucks in the same mall?!). Nowadays I'm at home or work all the time. And what if I'm out and need to contact somebody? Payphones.

I just wasn't made for these times. Everything was fine when it was analog. I would prefer any machine or device that the troubleshooting instructions read: "Give it a good whack. If that doesn't work, shake it around a bit." Who needs all this electronic crap? At the transistor hut today they had a book-sized portable dvd player. There it is. Why should anyone read a book ever again? At the grocery store, they have razors that require batteries for god knows what kind of evil purpose. On the internet, they have countless websites where people rant on and on about senseless bullshit...

Oh.

Well, I'm going to go read a book and listen to vinyl. Call me when the scientists stopped researching laser-guided bedets and actually figured out how to create a wormhole into another dimension.

Paul loves John.

Paul McCartney is a badass. I never realized it before, but his remixing of the "Let It Be" album into "Let It Be... Naked" wasn't just some sort of ego trip on his part (as Ringo would have you believe) but instead - perhaps - a way of making peace with John Lennon's ghost. I happened to be listening to the "Naked" version of "Across the Universe" and I was reminded of something John said in his last interview before his death. Talking to Playboy in 1980 John said: "The Beatles didn't make a good record of it. ...The guitars are out of tune and I'm singing out of tune 'cos I'm psychologically destroyed and nobody's supporting me or helping me with it and the song was never done properly." If you listen to the "Wildlife" version of it, it's covered with out of tune wah-wah guitars and girl singers. The "Let It Be" version was "puked on" by Phil Spector and sounds like shit. But the "Naked" version is just John and his acoustic guitar, all the phasing and tremolo washed away, with only faint hints of tambura and the guitars and strings far off in the distance. It's as if Paul were trying to undo all the "sabotage" John said he did to it.

Of course, Paul was also trying to undo the sabotage Phil Spector did to the whole album as well. Since "Let It Be" was originally recorded with the notion of recording all the songs with no overdubs at all, it's pathetically ironic that Spector produced the album with his trademark "wall of sound," ladling strings and brass and special effects onto almost every track. A few years ago, Spector was receiving a lifetime achievement award and Paul walked out on the ceremony, mentioning to journalists: "He fucked up 'Let It Be' and I'm not a man who forgets." Also, a precedent was set by George Harrison rereleasing "All Things Must Pass" in a de-Spectorized version a year or two before. So Paul removed all the crap, all the effects (even reverb is used very sparingly) and changed the song lineup, removing "Maggie Mae" and "Dig It."

But the most revealing aspect of the entire album is his remixing of "The Long And Winding Road." Stripped of the gaudy orchestration, the track reveals John playing bass - very poorly. Ian MacDonald lists the mistakes in his footnote in Revolution In The Head: "Recurring wrote notes at 0:28, 2:10 and 3:07; mis-strikes at 2:39 and 2:52; drop-outs at 2:59 and 3:14; a fumble at 0:19; a vague glissando at 1:03; a missed final push at 3:26." If John truly felt that Paul "subconsciously tried to destroy songs," what was John doing here? Still, on "Naked," Paul lovingly removes all the gunk covering "Across The Universe," yet brings John's bass up in the mix on "The Long And Winding Road." Taken in this context, it sure seems to me that Paul still has a great amount of love and respect for his former partner. And for that, I think he's a badass.

My Name Is Hard To Google!

Polar bears are proof that god exists, because nothing so incredibly badass could have evolved randomly without some kind of master plan. Yeh, that cute little cuddly white bear will actually EAT YOUR FACE OFF!!! That's right. Polar bears will eat anything. And they're not even afraid! Scott said he saw a video of a couple polar bears attacking a beached killer whale. Now, listen up, I realize that it is probably logistically easy to attack a beached whale. But LARGE SEA CREATURES ARE TERRIFYING IN ANY ENVIRONMENT!!! And don't you forget it!

When you were a kid, did you see that commercial for those wildlife videos where they had a killer whale like, totally destroying some poor sea lion on the coast? I did. Killer whales are scary mothers. If I were a polar bear, I wouldn't attack one of those things, even if it was beached. Even if it was helplessly floating in the sky like some directionless zeppelin, and I were in a Sopwith Camel with carbide-tipped rocket-propelled harpoons, I would probably steer clear of that behemoth!

At Shedd's Aquarium in Chicago, they have a large taxidermologized killer squid mounted on the ceiling. Just the memory of that evil evil monster will cause me to shudder! It probably ate TWO captain Nemos before they wrangled that savage beast!

Aah! I HATE SEA CREATURES!!!

Except for the peaceful sea dragon. Sea dragons are all right.

Free Willy scares me. Star Trek IV scares me. Finding Nemo scares me. That beach scene in The Craft scares me. And pictures of Portugese Man-O-Wars scare the living crap out of me. I saw a dolphin in Puget Sound once. It didn't scare me. But the state fish of Hawaii, the Humuhumunukunukuapua'a, that kind of scared me. That stupid algae-sucker fish in my sister's aquarium scared me.

Gimme Fiction!

I just got Spoon's new album today. It makes me want to go on an adventure.

Trapped by the Mormons!

To the missionaries: I've lived in Utah all my life. By now, I probably know as much about your church as you do. I'm not interested.

To the mercenaries: No, I will not do your killing for you. I don't care about the money. I told you... I'm "retired."

Meow

So, Smith's says they've got some sweet onions from Georgia that are ultra-rare. I hope they mean the former Soviet Republic, but they probably just mean the State. Anyways, if I'm lucky enough to be one of the chosen few recipients of these smelly treasures, I will saute it and let you know how delectable it was. And you know what else? We live in America, and you can get roasted duck in other countries. Actually, some people are fascinated by the fact that Egyptians were beer-sluts. I'm more fascinated by the fact that there is a heiroglyph for that. But I digress. In truth, I wish that kablingo was a word. But it's not. Instead we have stupid words like multilateralism and deprioritize and kiosk.

Beer-slats? What the hell is a beer-slat? That's what the spell checker wants me to write. That's why I don't use those damn things. They're stuupid.

Pope Lando II

My website says: "Congratulations" to my sister, who graduated from the University of Utah.

::Regarding the new pope:: Benedict XVI sucks. He should have gone way back to good ol' 913 and named himself after the one and only Pope Lando. Or Pope Zephyrinus II would be good too.

::Regarding the new food pyramid:: Mine goes like this, from left to right: Coronas, limes, Reece's peanut butter cups, Lil' Smokies, and soy sauce.

::Regarding mother's day:: A very happy one to my beautiful wife, Emily.

::Regarding Civilization:: Anybody who refers to that "In the beginning.." thing as a poem is a tool.

The Smell of Burning Eyes!

Remember that scene in Fire In The Sky where the aliens tie the guy down to the table, then a machine pries his eyelids open and they stick a needle in his pupil? Well, turns out they were perfoming LASIK on him. I capitalized LASIK 'cos it's an acronym for Laser ASsisted In-situ Keratomileusis. Anyways, they used some tongs to hold my eyelids open, then a little device sliced off the front of my eye. Then a laser burned away some flesh. It remeasures where it's supposed to be 1,000 times a second. All I saw was a blurry red light. Emily was watching and said that smoke was billowing up from my face. It was so incredibly badass. I kept imagining some kind of comic book mishap where a power surge causes the laser to overload, and then I end up with x-ray vision or something. Of course, as comic books go, I would be cast out from society, yet ironically use my super power to save it. But alas, no. Everything went precisely as planned. So now I am typing, unable to see the computer screen (the vision needs a few hours to clear up). Please forgive any typographical errors. And... just in case I do end up with x-ray vision... maybe you should all wear lead underwear for the next couple days.

Furthermore!

Furthermore, Luke was supposedly raised on a quiet backwater planet (whatever the hell backwater means), he even went so far to say, "If there's a bright center to the universe, you're on the planet that it's farthest from." I assume that to be figurative. But Episode I would have you think that Tatooine is a virtual Coruscant, only sandier. Whatever.

Furthermore, I am tearing out the floor tiling in the bathroom too. I've noticed that on the spectrum of sparks, those flying off this tile are more red in color, and less flashy. My next step in this experiment - get a bigger hammer. Yeh!

Furthermore, I am still working on reviving the old save yerself, as you can see. I am going through each old post, editing slightly for out-of-date content (like links and stuff), and then inserting into the site, using the original date and time for the post. I probably have roughly over a hundred more posts to go, so this will take a while!

This Obi-Wan Kenobi jibberish!

If you are trying to hide an evil jedi's twin children from him, there may be more prudent ways. Setting one up as the princess of an important planet isn't the best idea. While the royal family's undoubted ability to defend itself (except, perhaps, from superlasers) is a plus, the high profile is a huge liability. But placing the son in the care of his half-uncle on the same planet the father grew up on, and even keeping his last name, is probably a foolish move.

Golden Sparks of Justice!

Holy crap. Today I found perhaps the greatest pastime ever. Taking a hammer and destroying a tiled shower. Some water has gotten under the old tile, so it was time to go. And so that meant the violent destruction of the tile and drywall. I am not kidding you: sparks were flying off the hammer as I rained down mighty blows upon the ceramic tile. Holy god it was awesome.

Glamdring, the Foe-Hammer!

I put a screen on my bedroom window, so now those damn bugs can't get in anymore. You know, I still think we should get rid of bugs. Keep the honeybees, and the ladybugs and the praying manti. And maybe potato bugs, cos they're so cool when they roll up into a ball. Oh crap, praying manti and dragonflies (which we should also keep) eat mosquitos, right? So, we'd have to have mosquitos for them to live. Dammit. Are their any non-biting bugs that they also eat? 'Cos we could keep them too. Yeah, let's just get rid of the biting/stinging bugs. And spiders.

Light the Fire Within... We dare you!

When I was still growing up and dad head off to work, he'd put coat and tie on over fitted shirt. Oh wait, no, that didn't happend to me, that happened to Britt Daniel. Sorry. I think I'm going to go sit in my bamboo chair now and read the paper.

To me you're like a groin, a dictionary can't be right.

Ok, I was wrong; it turns out Old Ben was talking about our own "Pointy View." Not akapov. So, sorry for my misinterpretation. And while we're on apologies, I have to say I'm very sorry about this rain today. I wasn't thinking and I washed my truck yesterday. So now the weather's all like "Look what you made me do!" I was watching the weather report yesterday night and this is what they said: "Well, we have a high pressure zone coming in from the coast, and... oh shit, this just in... Bogus washed his truck yesterday. Well, fuck it, it was going to be a beautiful sunny warm day, but now there's a 100% chance of rain." (Is 100% still a chance?) And while drving home today, some lady decided to make a VERY fast stop at a yellow light at the bottom of a hill. Hmmm... steep hill + slick, wet roads + very fast stop = getting rear ended by me. It's ok though, since I drive a truck and she drives an SUV. Now had there been a car involved, there would be death and blood and war in Iraq or something. But since we both drive big old honkin' vehicles (and I was able to somewhat slow down), I just gave her rear bumper a tap.

Fuck, that Emmanuel was a local celebrity, wasn't he? If there are any s.y. readers who aren't in Utah, let me fill you in: you know that crazy guy who kidnapped Elizabeth Smart? He was in Police custody in September (while he still had Elizabeth). Maybe this should set a new precedent: any time the police question ANYBODY, they should ask them about any unsolved cases. You get pulled over for speeding... "Licence and registration. Also, who killed Joan Benet Ramsay, where is Amelia Earhardt, and who was Jack The Ripper?!" You never know. Maybe something will turn up.

Man, where the fuck IS Amelia Earhardt?

The Many Ways of Skinny Cat!

Luke, you are going to learn that many of the truths we cling to depend greatly upon our own point of view. (That Lucasian for: I lie but I believe myself.) Personally, I have no idea what "pride" is supposed to mean, but then again I am not privy to the matter, so I suppose that my point of view must have me clinging to some strange kind of other truth. So maybe the wrong person is suspected of lacking perspective (aka point of view, aka pov). (Akapov... sounds Russian.) My self-imposed reclusion, my sojourn from the somewhat western half of the coterie, has probably changed those truth-clingings as a result of my akapov shifting. Sometimes I fear a great schism. But I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. (And the sleeper must awaken, whatever that's supposed to mean.) And could such a rift be void of bitterness? The bitterness in me refuses to believe it, but I must let go my conscious self and act on instinct. Although sometimes I see a bad moon rising, George tells me that "Daylight is good at arriving at the right time" while reminding me that All Things Must Pass.

This blog is dedicated to Caroline Mountford.

Ok, tell me this isn't some kind of metaphor: I live on a one way street that ends in a cemetary. I realized this yesterday as I went for a walk through the graveyard. There was this one spot, way up on a steep hill that overlooked the entire valley, where there was only one headstone; a worn out wooden one with a tree almost growing over it. All it said was Caroline Mountford 1850-1899. Now, I know nothing about her, but by the looks of the headstone, it seems as though she was unlucky in life. But somehow she was lucky enough to get the most beautiful plot with hardly anyone else around for what seems like acres. Acres of land with no bodies in it, only the roots of trees which allegedly extend for hundreds of yards. When I was digging through the dirt at the Q-Spot, I sometimes wondered if one of the roots I was breaking through was from one of the giant pine trees in the cemetary across the road.

On the equalizers on my mixer there are two symbols. If you turn the knob all the way to the right, you go to +15, which means you add signal noise. All the way to the left is - (the sideways eight that means "infinity"). Minus Infinity. Of course that means silence, but I like that concept. That silence is absolute and infinite and noise isn't. I'll bet you that means something.