I didn’t think that, when I decided to write about the 22 significant songs in my life, it would be so significant to me. It started out as a fun little “greatest hits” exercise, and I figured the hardest part would be trying to keep the list to 22 songs. I didn’t expect it to turn into music therapy. Figuring out why I chose these songs made me look at where I’m at in my life, how I got here, and what I’ve learned about myself along the way. I hope this little couch trip has been entertaining and hasn’t made anyone feel like they should be charging $200 per hour to listen to this.
So here we go, the most significant 11 songs in my life.
11) “I Should've Known,” Aimee Mann. For a long time, I was kind of sexist about my musical tastes. It’s not that I wouldn’t listen to female artists—I had a number that I liked very much. It’s just that, when push came to shove, I didn’t really take them as seriously as male artists. Early on in my music fandom, this had more to do with female musicians not engaging in the pseudo-masturbatory fretboard wankery aimed directly at teenage boys. But my bias didn’t really change even when my musical horizons widened.
Aimee Mann changed that. I liked her work in Til Tuesday, thanks to The Lovely Becky’s inclusion of those songs on our mix tapes, and Mann got dork props by appearing on Rush’s “Time Stand Still.” Her first solo album, Whatever, turned mild appreciation into revelation. From the chorus of this impeccable pop song, she not only grabbed my attention, she made me realize that I had viewed female artists differently. That in turn got me thinking about how I felt about women in general. I’ve always believed in female equality, but I hadn’t really treated female songs, movies, books, and art equally. By recognizing how great Aimee Mann was, I realized how subtle that bias could be.
That’s a pretty big revelation to get from a five-minute pop song, and that’s why Aimee Mann is on this list. I also apologize in advance for the rest of this list being a sausage fest.
10) “In Between Days,” The Cure. As I wallowed in a miasma of guitar solos and double-bass drums and fantasy concept albums, I attended a Southern California high school that was all Boingo and Depeche Mode and The Cure. My friends listened to that stuff and mocked my appreciation for hard rock. That made me sink my heels in deeper to my metal dragon mount and ignore the wider world of pop music.
One day, talking to my friend from junior high school, Tom—a fellow brother in Rush and my former Dungeon Master—he mentioned that he had started listening to The Cure. I was all, No way. And he was like, Way. Had he been replaced by some Dep’d, cargo-pants-wearing pod person? Or did The Cure really not suck? I set out on my fact-finding mission by borrowing a copy of Standing on a Beach, throwing the tape into my stereo with skepticism stiffer than Robert Smith’s bangs.
Not only did it not suck, I found myself enjoying what I heard. When “In Between Days” played, I stopped the tape, rewound it, and played it again. And again. I loved this song. It was emotional and mopey like I expected, but catchy and even a little rocking. I made a copy of the tape and played it to death for the rest of the year, bought Kiss Me Kiss Me Kiss Me when it came out, and even wound up seeing them in concert when I was visiting Tom.
No other song expanded my musical horizons like this one. It opened my ears to music I never would have tried.
Except for Boingo and Depeche Mode. They can still suck it.
9) “Pretty Vacant,” The Sex Pistols. Punk was a natural progression for me after The Cure, because at least punk was loud and heavy like my beloved heavy metal. My first punk exposure was The Ramones, who I liked very much. They were catchy, funny, and so dumb they were clever.
It was The Sex Pistols, though, that made me a punk fan. I knew plenty about the Pistols, but had never heard a single song until my friend lent me his copy of Never Mind the Bollocks my senior year of high school. I expected the Pistols to sound more like the discordant hardcore punk that the Pistols inspired. I was shocked to find that these were real songs, with memorable choruses and words you could decipher. Yet they also had the power of a Doc Martin kick to the head. I couldn’t get over the fury of this record. I had heard political music before, but not like this. “Holidays in the Sun” and “Pretty Vacant” in particular stuck with me, and I wound up with a new set of air guitar heroes. This in turn led to....
8) “Complete Control,” The Clash. I got into The Clash via the most un-punk manner possible: I checked out the best-of The Story of the Clash, Vol. 1 from the library. I wasn’t even wearing any safety pins when I showed my library card.
As much as I liked the Pistols, The Clash took my appreciation for punk to a whole other level. They had the same fury, but it was more focused, more meaningful. There was construction among the destruction. Unlike the Pistols or Ramones or most other punk groups, The Clash grew with me. Over the years as I played their albums, I’d pick up new nuances I’d missed: lyrical meanings or instrumental flourishes. The Ramones and The Pistols and most other punk groups were moments in time. The Clash were timeless.
The Clash became even more important to me as my political views changed in college, especially when I went to graduate school. There I was, studying American history and questioning a lot of what I had learned growing up. Here were The Clash, challenging what they had been taught. Even though this song is about the record industry and the punk movement, the idea of throwing off those who would control you meant a lot to me, because I had to cast off a lot of preconceptions to get to the place where I could think for myself. The fact that they put that message in a fiery, classic bit of punk rock made that lesson stick.
7) “Hammerless Nail,” New Bomb Turks. Of course, some songs stick with you because they perfectly capture a moment in time. That’s what this hyperfast bit of Columbus, Ohio, punk does for me.
I was living in New York City when this came out, just getting started in the working world and married life. Married life was easy, as it always has been with TLB. I also loved being in the Big Apple. The buzzing guitar in this song reminds me of getting out of work on a nice day and walking around Manhattan, soaking up the hustle and bustle of the big city.
But then there was working and what I wanted to do. My original plan had been to get a Ph.D. in history and become an academic. Seven rejection letters from the programs I wanted to attend got in the way of that. TLB already had a job in New York, so I hit the pavement and got what seemed like a dream job, working for the history editor at a publishing house. I got to talk to scholars I really respected and I liked the people I worked with a lot. I envisioned myself becoming an editor, and for a while, I was happy.
Unfortunately, I found that to be an editor, you had to like working with authors. Most of them were great, but the ones that weren’t ground on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. They were needy, they were arrogant, they were demanding. Over time, they wore me down. The final straw came when I worked with a very talented but very difficult author. He had a touch of Ken Burnsitis, a rock-star mania gripping historians who had appeared in a Burns documentary, as he had. To be fair, he was writing a big, important, and widely acclaimed book. But he also wanted to be treated like a big, important, widely acclaimed scholar, before he had achieved any of those things. One request had been a research assistant to help him sort through hundreds of photo choices for the book. We didn’t have the budget for that, but in the spirit of soothing his ego, I volunteered to come over on a Saturday and help him out.
I showed up at his apartment on a hot summer day, where he greeted me shirtless. I sat on the floor and began going through hundreds of photocopies of photos and artwork, while he worked on the book. Halfway through, he excused himself, and suddenly his wife entered. She had this pixieish presence, with a very girlish voice and ethereal way of speaking. She proceeded to tell me how great he was and how important his work was and that we should do everything we could to make this book a success.
I thought, why the fuck do you think I’m here working with your husband on a fucking Saturday? Of course, what came out was a completely polite acknowledgement of his greatness, which made me hate myself even more. I decided to cash out my chips. Not only would I quit my pursuit as an editor, but to leave New York altogether. I needed a new change, and a move and career change seemed like the perfect elixir to cure my blahs.
But there’s a line in this song that captured another, key part of the story: Avoidance is my stock in trade, I do it almost every day, til the days go by in a haze of okays.
TLB and I left for Chicago, I got out of editing, and I started over. I went into marketing and advertising, and for a while I was happy. Until I started getting annoyed with clients, with some of the idiotic products I had to promote, with....sound familiar? As much as leaving New York and editorial work was the right move, my motivations were all wrong. I was naive and foolish for thinking a simple change of career and locale would magically cure my ennui. I realized that there has always been a large part of it’s not you, it’s me when it comes to my happiness, and that for every external thing bringing me down, there’s usually something internal acting as an accomplice. This song always brings that lesson home.
6) “That’s Entertainment,” The Jam. I am an Anglophile. I have been ever since I first saw Monty Python. But even more than my sense of humor, my taste in music tends to favor the British. Which is why one of my favorite bands is arguably the biggest British band to never make it in the states.
Along with The Clash, The Jam were one of the few early punk bands that managed to mature and change their sound without losing their edge. They kept the youthful energy and anger that led them to start playing music in the first place, but found new, more mature ways to express those feelings. This song is a perfect example. It’s acoustic, it’s quiet, it’s pretty slow. Yet it captures the disillusionment and discontent of its surroundings better than faster, louder, and snottier songs. I was always impressed at how The Jam pulled that off, and it showed me in my own work that you don’t have to hit someone over the head to kick them in the balls.
5) “Cut Your Hair,” Pavement. Oh, sweet irony, where would I be without thee? I have admittedly kind of grown out of Pavement, but they hit me hard at the right time. I had not, before buying Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain, listened to music that was clever and funny. The clever stuff was usually serious, and the funny stuff tended to be a tad crude (like David Lee Roth).
Pavement managed to be both. I loved the wordplay, the jokes, the we’re-trying-so-hard-to-look-like-we’re-not-trying vibe. They were one of the first bands where I paid more attention to the lyrics than the music. This song in particular captured them at their best: writing a perfectly crafted pop song that skewers the industry that creates pop songs. If you didn’t listen closely, you could easily miss the joke. That’s the key ingredient in all great satire, and it’s the model I try to follow when I write.
4) “Valentine’s Day,” Bob Hillman. This song is Iowa City for me. I met Bob the second year TLB and I lived in The IC. He was a fellow Wouse—Workshop spouse—who came to Iowa so his significant other could attend the Writer’s Workshop. We went to see him play a local club. From the moment he started playing, I dug the cleverness, catchiness, and craft of his songs. He closed with this number, a song that should have been huge, a song that should have been used in a movie where John Cusack realizes what an ass he’s been and that he has to drop everything right now and go get that girl.
Bob and I became friends, and while I’ve always enjoyed his music, it’s taken on a different meaning for me since we left. When TLB and I came to Iowa City, we were both in transition. Moving to Chicago had been very beneficial in a lot of ways, but we weren’t really satisfied, especially TLB. The specter of infertility was already haunting us, and TLB in particular was being ground down by white-collar life. What we found in Iowa City—and what we needed even more than we knew at the time—was a community of great people who were in flux just like we were. On many an occasion, we all met up to watch Bob play a show and then drink with him afterward, talking about music and politics and writing. It was like being in college again, only now I wasn’t broke and had at least a clue of what I was doing.
I was very sad that our time there had to end, even though that was the natural order of things. But now when I play this song, I think of those nights and how happy I was that TLB and I took the plunge to move there. Even though I wish Bob had hit it huge and made enough money to buy Bushwood, there’s a selfish part that’s glad I don’t have to share my little memento of Iowa City with millions of other people. Although John Cusack really should use this in a movie.
(If you like the samples on Amazon, you can buy CDs directly from Bob.)
3) “I Am a Scientist,” Guided by Voices. Robert Pollard, the guiding force of Guided by Voices, was 37 when he became an indie rock star. He went from being a grade school teacher in Dayton to a rock savior, a guy melding British Invasion pop with the surreal creativity of Peter Gabriel-era Genesis, all of it recorded with on cheap home equipment that made the songs that much more immediate and personal. No other songwriter of the last 20 years has cranked out as many gems as he has. If he had been from Athens or Austin and ten years younger when he was “discovered,” he would have been a household name.
More than being a great songwriter, he’s been an inspiration. Like I said, Pollard was already an old man in the rock game when he hit it big enough to quit his day job. By the time I saw GbV live for the first time, he was graying and well on the other side of 40. Instead of playing a cozy, VH1 Storytellers type of set that would have been age-appropriate, Pollard and has band of elder musicians proceeded to plug in, drink up, and rock out for three hours like they were 18.
It blew me away. As I’ve amply documented, I have had many self-imposed hang-ups about getting older, about making it as a writer, about being a success. When I started listening to GbV and especially after seeing them live, I realized how much unnecessary bullshit I had piled onto my psyche. None of that stuff mattered. If you wanted to create, create whatever you wanted, no matter how weird it was or how long it took. If somebody else dug it, great, if not, it didn’t matter as long as you were having fun. And if you kept working and kept having fun and stayed true to yourself, you might someday craft a two-minute diamond of a song that breaks you through long after most people thought you'd broken up.
2) “Won’t Get Fooled Again,” The Who. Most of these songs, while great on their own, are here for personal reasons. This song is here because it’s the greatest rock and roll song ever recorded, at least in my humble non-Rolling Stone opinion. It captures, as Spinal Tap would say, the majesty of rock and the mystery of roll. Epic, angry, amplified, political, and personal, it’s the rock anthem to end all rock anthems.
I see Pete Townsend as rock’s Shakespeare, the man who managed to be both accessible and wildly popular while keeping his work complex, deep, and adventurous. Imagine a song today being nearly nine minutes and featuring a long instrumental break in the middle becoming not just a huge hit, but one of the great songs of its age. Imagine the same song being unabashedly political, and yet being meaningful to liberals and conservatives. Now imagine that song being so timeless that it always seems appropriate, not matter how much things change or how much they stay the same.
It’s a case study of why breaking all the rules is necessary if you want to create something lasting, powerful, and original. And when I think of rock and roll, I think of this song.
And now, the number one...could I have a drum solo please....
1) “Walking on Sunshine,” Katrina and the Waves. The beauty of pop music is that it can say so much while still getting you to tap your feet. This ostensibly simple song is really an exploration of humanity’s place in the universe, grooving between the dark nihilism of Nietzsche and the blind faith of evangelicalism. The rhetorical and don’t it feel good? of the chorus challenges us to define good on our own terms, to find our own rays of sunshine on which we can walk toward perfect consciousness. Plus it kicks the crap out of Belle and Sebastian.
Okay, okay, the completely obvious number one....
1) “Tom Sawyer,” Rush. I have been a Rush fan for 26 of the 37 years I’ve been alive. In that time, I have loved and left a lot of bands. Being a creature of lists, I always have a running Top 5 bands in my head. Not only has Rush always been on that list, they have always been at the top of the list. Why?
The honest answer is I don’t really know. They tend to be a polarizing band. Their lyrics could be preachy and corny. Geddy Lee’s voice could range into dog whistle territory. In their efforts to evolve with the changing tide of music, they could do things like rap. Believe me, I know the criticisms of Rush much, much better than the critics of Rush.
Here’s the thing, though: Rush is the soundtrack of my life. When I heard "Tom Sawyer" and started listening to them, my family started moving around a lot because my father went back into the military full time. I continued those itinerant ways after I left college and got married. I’ve had arguably two constants amid all that flux: an enjoyment of boners and an appreciation for Rush. While most boners tend to blur into one lifelong erection, I can pop in any Rush album, play any song, and recall exactly what was going on in my life at that time. Not only can I not do that with any other band, I can’t do that with any other thing.
What’s more, their music lets me be a kid and grow up at the same time. They’ve changed their approach to music over time, leaving behind some of the youthful excess to craft more mature music. But even though they shortened their songs and Geddy Lee’s voice re-entered Earth’s atmosphere, Rush still retain a geeky adolescent energy, full of drum fills and guitar solos and screeching vocals about dystopian futures and adventures through black holes. They never lost what made them Rush in the first place.
More than anything else, that’s the lesson I have taken out of my love of rock music. I am going to grow up and mature and change. In fact, I should embrace those changes instead of fearing them and fighting them. But I should never, ever forget why I became a rock fan in the first place, and I should always keep this fountain of youth around, so that even as I get older, I never get old.
* * *
These two posts on these 22 songs have been the culmination of the Friday Random 11. I started writing music posts because I wanted to not only express my passion for rock, but challenge myself to express that passion in a creative ways. Since I started doing this in January 2007, I’ve written more than 42,000 words on my music collection.
That’s why, at least for now, I’m going to retire the Random 11 with this post. It’s been a great writing exercise for me—every week, I never knew what I’d write about, and it was really fun to find patterns in seemingly random songs. But I want to get back to writing more original material, and having one extra Friday a week to do that will help. I hope you enjoyed reading all those words as much as I did writing them.
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Friday, May 02, 2008
Embarassing personal revelations still to come
I had hoped to finish either the Vegas recap or the second half of the Significant 22 songs by this morning, but I'm playing catch up this week on work and sleep. They are both mostly written, so I will definitely finish both this weekend.
Thanks to everyone for the blogoversary wishes. Hard to believe I've been doing this for three years already.
Thanks to everyone for the blogoversary wishes. Hard to believe I've been doing this for three years already.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Top Ten Tuesdays: Why are we still blogging?
Today is the third anniversary of Circle Jerk at the Square Dance. When I started this blog, I never gave any thought to how long I would do it. I figured as long as I had dick jokes to tell stuff to write about, I would keep posting.
Now, though, some fine blog friends have questioned their very bloggy existences. It’s a crisis I know well. There have been times when I have thought about ending the blog. I am certainly grateful that fun, entertaining people find my writing fun and entertaining. But with an audience comes expectation, and expectation brings pressure to produce something for that audience that’s worth their time and attention. Sometimes, because of pressures external and internal, that can feel like a real challenge. Even though my blog is quite unserious, I take my blogging very seriously.
Luckily, every time I get that sapped feeling, it doesn’t last long. Maybe that lack of inspiration makes me look harder for something to write about. Maybe the pressures of work or personal life or whatever make me appreciate that I have a creative outlet right at my fingertips. Before I know it, I’m writing again and laughing as I type. And despite relishing the feedback of my audience, I know the first person I have to entertain is me. I hope I’ve done the same for all of you, and appreciate everyone who has ever popped into my humble abode here on the Internets.
On to the Top Ten topic: Why are still blogging?
10) Much better drunken creative outlet than writing name in the snow.
9) Employer refuses to let us use LOLCAT in client presentations.
8) Want children to understand why daddy drinks.
7) Have to alert the world that Chocolate Skittles are people! They’re people!
6) Only way to have a relationship with an adorable girlfriend without violating marriage vows.
5) Saturn doesn’t give cars to just anyone who wants to drive around the country.
4) Someone has to write down what the squirrels are muttering.
3) Mom still can’t find the key to the basement.
2) Because in the Blogosphere, no one can write you a rejection letter.
1) Praise from anonymous readers is the new cocaine.
A post about this past weekend’s Vegas trip will be forthcoming. No pants were soiled, but they were certainly removed. Repeatedly.
Now, though, some fine blog friends have questioned their very bloggy existences. It’s a crisis I know well. There have been times when I have thought about ending the blog. I am certainly grateful that fun, entertaining people find my writing fun and entertaining. But with an audience comes expectation, and expectation brings pressure to produce something for that audience that’s worth their time and attention. Sometimes, because of pressures external and internal, that can feel like a real challenge. Even though my blog is quite unserious, I take my blogging very seriously.
Luckily, every time I get that sapped feeling, it doesn’t last long. Maybe that lack of inspiration makes me look harder for something to write about. Maybe the pressures of work or personal life or whatever make me appreciate that I have a creative outlet right at my fingertips. Before I know it, I’m writing again and laughing as I type. And despite relishing the feedback of my audience, I know the first person I have to entertain is me. I hope I’ve done the same for all of you, and appreciate everyone who has ever popped into my humble abode here on the Internets.
On to the Top Ten topic: Why are still blogging?
10) Much better drunken creative outlet than writing name in the snow.
9) Employer refuses to let us use LOLCAT in client presentations.
8) Want children to understand why daddy drinks.
7) Have to alert the world that Chocolate Skittles are people! They’re people!
6) Only way to have a relationship with an adorable girlfriend without violating marriage vows.
5) Saturn doesn’t give cars to just anyone who wants to drive around the country.
4) Someone has to write down what the squirrels are muttering.
3) Mom still can’t find the key to the basement.
2) Because in the Blogosphere, no one can write you a rejection letter.
1) Praise from anonymous readers is the new cocaine.
A post about this past weekend’s Vegas trip will be forthcoming. No pants were soiled, but they were certainly removed. Repeatedly.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Off to Sin City
I had hoped to finish the last of my Top 22 songs today, but it is a) not done, b) already in need of some serious editing, and c) I of course had to double-time working so I could take a couple days off. I'll post part 2 next Friday.
I depart tomorrow to wish my brother Tickle bon voyage to bachelorhood, in what is likely his last trip to Vegas for a while. It's also my goodbye to non-fatherhood, as it will likely be my last trip there for a while as well. Given that there are 10 of us, we have a suite, and we have an all-you-can drink event lined up for Saturday night, that's just as well.
Back Wednesday with a top 10 assuming I can move my fingers. I'll let Bon and the boys send me off....
I depart tomorrow to wish my brother Tickle bon voyage to bachelorhood, in what is likely his last trip to Vegas for a while. It's also my goodbye to non-fatherhood, as it will likely be my last trip there for a while as well. Given that there are 10 of us, we have a suite, and we have an all-you-can drink event lined up for Saturday night, that's just as well.
Back Wednesday with a top 10 assuming I can move my fingers. I'll let Bon and the boys send me off....
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Top Ten Wednesdays: How are we wooing the white male vote?
Special extended mullet primary edition!
13) Learned to pee standing up in order to stump at the urinal.
12) Showed artist’s rendition of Air Force One covered in sponsor decals and a giant number 3.
11) Promised that future 3 a.m. calls to the White House would be answered by bi-curious Monica Lewinsky (charges apply).
10) Promised that future presidential pastors would have to pass the Wayne Brady test.
9) Shotgunned a beer and burped out major policy proposals.
8) Announced that subsequent State of the Union addresses would be performed by Pacino and DeNiro.
7) Vowed to declare the Pittsburgh Pirates a federal disaster area.
6) Revealed running mate would be the King of Queens.
5) Offered to replace national anthem with John Mellencamp’s “This Is Our Country.”
4) Devised a plan to keep the railroad from running through Rock Ridge.
3) Gave away limited edition zubaz pants bearing the presidential seal in the seat.
2) Swore to not only catch Osama bin Laden, but have him impaled by Kiefer Sutherland just seconds before the bomb goes off.
1) Kept a straight face when hearing white guys whine about how they don't have any power.
13) Learned to pee standing up in order to stump at the urinal.
12) Showed artist’s rendition of Air Force One covered in sponsor decals and a giant number 3.
11) Promised that future 3 a.m. calls to the White House would be answered by bi-curious Monica Lewinsky (charges apply).
10) Promised that future presidential pastors would have to pass the Wayne Brady test.
9) Shotgunned a beer and burped out major policy proposals.
8) Announced that subsequent State of the Union addresses would be performed by Pacino and DeNiro.
7) Vowed to declare the Pittsburgh Pirates a federal disaster area.
6) Revealed running mate would be the King of Queens.
5) Offered to replace national anthem with John Mellencamp’s “This Is Our Country.”
4) Devised a plan to keep the railroad from running through Rock Ridge.
3) Gave away limited edition zubaz pants bearing the presidential seal in the seat.
2) Swore to not only catch Osama bin Laden, but have him impaled by Kiefer Sutherland just seconds before the bomb goes off.
1) Kept a straight face when hearing white guys whine about how they don't have any power.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Monday Random 11: The Significant 22, Part 1
There are times when you just need to let yourself have a break and recharge your batteries. Friday was one of those days. Which is why I am doing the random 11 on a Monday instead.
First things first: Last week’s Top 10 was an open poetry slam, for which I promised a prize. Ten different people responded, so I used this scientific method to select a winner. I rolled a 4, so congratulations to the man who puts the “bit” in bitter, Res Publica, el jeffe de Republic of Dogs. Res wins a $20 Amazon gift certificate for helping me out. Res, shoot me an e-mail me at brando.cjsd at yahoo dot com so I can e-mail you your gift. There is one stipulation: you must use the purchase at Amazon's new cockring store.
So, the music. You may want to use the facilities and grab a beverage, because this is a long ‘un.
A few weeks ago, The Lovely Becky went on our lovely college radio station to play two hours of her favorite music. I was extremely jealous, because I constantly have a burning desire to a) share my opinions in a definitive manner and b) apply “a” to music whenever possible. It also got me thinking about the songs that have made the biggest impact on my life.
I’ve been a music fan since my parents bought me a Mickey Mouse record player when I was a kid. I played your standard kid fare, but my earliest forays into pop music were Meco’s disco remake of the Star Wars theme and Chipmunk Punk. I am not lying when I say that Alvin and company turned me into a rock fan, albeit a fan for sped up vocals sung by fake animals.
When I was 10, my parents bought me a boom box for Christmas. That really opened the floodgates, as I started taping stuff off the radio a lot. I wish I still had those old Memorex tapes, full of The Knack and Blondie and Loverboy, with songs starting as the DJ talked over them and getting cut off three seconds into the following commercial. I would sit and listen for hours, waiting for a new song I wanted to record. These kids with their Internets and their torrent sharing, they don’t know how good they got it.
So for the next two Random 11s, I’m going to pick the 22 most significant songs from my life. They may have influenced me creatively, gotten me through some tough times, or turned me into the overgrown adolescent dillweed I am today. But they played some role in me being me.
22) “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band,” The Beatles. I’ll cut off the pretentious cobag accusations with this revelation: the first album I played to death after I got my boom box was Kenny Rogers Greatest Hits. I loved how every song told a story, and how the melody helped you remember the story. It was like redneck prog, minus the time changes and swords and demons.
Growing up in the 70s, I also soaked in The Beatles like Palmolive, and I knew a lot of their songs as well. Which is why Sgt. Pepper’s was the first tape I bought for my boom box.
The title track isn’t even my favorite song in the album, but the concept is what hooked me. Like Kenny Rogers, the album told a story, but more than that, The Beatles were pretending to be someone else, a fictional band playing a fictional concert. It struck a chord as deep and lasting as the final one in “A Day in the Life.” The opening title song epitomized that fiction, starting with the crowd and orchestra sounds and going all the way until they introduced Billy Shears before “With a Little Help From My Friends.”
21) “Take It on the Run,” REO Speedwagon. If Kenny Rogers doesn’t take me down, this certainly chops me at the knees.
To say I played Hi Infidelity a lot would be like saying there are a lot of Orcs in Mordor: a true yet woefully inadequate assessment. I didn’t just play this album, I air guitared it every chance I could get. I wanted to be on stage, ripping off Gary Richrath solos and having thousands cheer. By the time I would get to the solo in “Take It on the Run,” I was someone else, somewhere else, letting my imagination run as wild as the notes squealing out of the speakers. It pretty much ensured that I would be a life-long music fan. That makes this song a diamond in my book, even if the sparkle is stained with cheese.
20) “Country Feedback,” R.E.M. This song came out when TLB and I almost broke up. We both went to separate colleges, thousands of miles apart. To everyone’s surprise, including our own, we made it work. The problems started when I started making plans for post-graduation. I wanted to go to graduate school, and the places I picked would have kept me away from TLB for another year at least (she was a year behind me in school). The thought of more long distance and putting something else in front of us became too much. Visiting her that summer, we spent our time together growing steadily apart.
Like millions of other people that year, we played R.E.M.’s Out of Time religiously. This song in particular captured how I felt about what was happening: a dark sense of loss, that it was all slipping away and there was nothing I could do about it.
Except I could. I realized, like Michael Stipe sang, “I need this.” I needed TLB more than anything else in the world, because I didn’t want to be singing a song like “Country Feedback” and wondering how I let the thing we all chase harder than anything slip away. So I promised her that once I finished undergraduate school, I’d go to graduate school at her college so I could be with her. That saved our relationship. Now this song reminds me of what could have happened but didn’t.
19) “Still Be Around,” Uncle Tupelo. This is the flip side of “Country Feedback.” I had decided to go to grad school to be with TLB, but hadn’t thought much beyond that. While I was still away, she put this song on a mix tape for me. Now, as a long-distance couple in the 80s and 90s, we had a long history of mix-taping. There are probably a half-dozen other songs I could put here that would be equally important. But this one captured what we had gone through: after four years of being apart, we still wanted to be together. What more did I need to realize I wanted to be with this woman for the rest of my life? When TLB came out to California to help me move, I planned a stop in Monterrey, where I got down on one knee in front of the ocean and asked her to always be around. When this song plays now, I always think of that moment.
18) “(What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace, Love, and Understanding,” Elvis Costello and the Attractions. I was a very tardy Costello fan, not really getting into him until I was in my late 20s. I was also not a liberal until late in life, as it took me a long time to divorce the conservative beliefs I inherited. Nothing sped up that process like the events after 9/11, when I watched terrorists use murder to supposedly promote freedom, and then watched our government squash freedom to ostensibly fight terror. It all seemed so nuts. One day I was driving down the street, thinking about the insanity of it all, and this song came on. I’d heard it plenty of times, but never quite like this. I sang along as loud as I could. When the song ended, I felt energized, like I wanted to say my piece about what was going on....
17) “Far Away,” Sleater-Kinney. Shortly after my Road to Iowa City event, I picked up Sleater-Kinney’s One Beat, which featured this song. After all the rah-rah flag humping filled the airwaves, it was a breath of fresh air. No other song about 9/11 sounds as horrified, appalled, and angry as this one. I still play it all the time, and it hit the same chord Elvis Costello did.
All great comedy comes from the blackest of emotions, from pain, anger, and depression. Hearing songs like this made me want to vent, but I don’t vent like this song does. The more pissed I get, the more I joke, skewering with humor. These songs didn’t plant the blogging seed, but they definitely shaped what grew from that seed. Some of my best stuff has been written while these two songs have played, and I think a lot of what I’ve written tries to focus their energy through my own prism.
Plus, I like women that rock. More on that next time.
16) “Highway to Hell,” AC/DC. It is no secret that I have a lot of Beavis in me. For all my master debating and cunning linguistics, at my heart I’m a 14-year-old boy that wants to play games and think about girls and listen to rock music. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that you do have to grow up, that having a Peter Pan complex isn’t healthy. At the same time that inner Beavis is still a core part of who I am. When I throw in some AC/DC, I get to release him for a bit, let him air guitar and shout fire! for a few healthy minutes. No other song lets me do that like “Highway to Hell.” Monster guitar riff, snarling Bon Scott, and singing about literally rocking you straight to hell. It’s a Flintstone vitamin for my soul.
15) “Welcome to the Jungle,” Guns N' Roses. I had a hair band problem in high school. As in I liked them. Ratt, Dokken, Whitesnake...the REO admission is tame by comparison. When I was a senior in high school, I took off with a couple friends to the beach. While riding in the back of my friend’s jeep, he popped in Appetite for Destruction. This was another of those musical moments where the scales fell from my ears. What the fuck was this? It sounded so dangerous and sleazy and genuine. There were no overly flashy solos or lunk-headed party anthems or faux danger. When Axl screamed “You’re in the jungle, baby, and you’re gonna die,” it sounded like he not only meant it, but had lived through it. For me, that moment stabbed hair metal through the heart with a sharpened can of Aqua Net.
Except for Def Leppard. I can’t quit Pyromania.
14) “Master of Puppets,” Metallica. Despite being into metal, I had avoided the really heavy, thrashing stuff in high school. I’m not sure why, because nothing gets Beavis going like fast riffs and pounding double-bass drums. But after seeing the GnR light and also discovering punk music, I gave the thrashier stuff a try. I borrowed my buddy’s Metallica CDs, and Master of Puppets immediately became a desert island disc. It sounded as dangerous and dark as GnR, but it added a progressive streak, with musical twists and turns amid the aggressive head banging. Even though I hate everything these guys now stand for, I still love this song.
“Highway to Hell,” “Welcome to the Jungle,” and “Master of Puppets” form a metal fountain of youth for me. When I feel the weight of the adult world bearing down, I play these songs and still get that youthful buzz. With every passing year, that fountain becomes more valuable to me.
13) “This Boy Is Exhausted,” The Wrens. There’s a famous scene in Garden State where Natalie Portman tells Zach Braff to listen to The Shins, because they would change your life.
The Wrens Meadowlands is my Garden State Shins. I was at a low point when this album came out. I had just gotten rejected again from the Iowa Writer’s Workshop, after doing the best writing I had ever done to that point in my life. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to keep trying, yet the prospect of ditching writing to focus on my day job seemed even more depressing. TLB and I were also in the trenches of infertility. I was, frankly, exhausted.
Lots of musicians write about being angry teens, disillusioned 20-somethings, or remorseful middle-aged adults regretting what could have been. This album captured that in-between time, being in your 30s and not only feeling clueless about what you wanted to do, but realizing you were running out of time to do it. I don't think any other album has ever captured my mood the way this one did. It was the perfect album at the perfect time.
As “Country Feedback” and hundreds of other songs have done, wallowing in this musical depression became cathartic and helped pull me out of the funk I was in. When it comes to the Hi Fidelity question of “do I listen to pop music because I’m miserable, or am I miserable because I listen to pop music,” it’s definitely the former for me. And miserable music can almost always make me feel less miserable.
12) “Stevie Nix,” The Hold Steady. A lot of this 30-ish turmoil had to do with the conflict between being the person I was raised and the person I was becoming. I had gone through a whole range of changes: reversing most of my political beliefs, losing at least some of my religion, and not knowing what I wanted to “do” with my life. Maybe that’s why I had a Peter Pan complex in the first place: being young and not having to think and question seemed so much easier.
Of course, I know that’s a dead end, that it leads to the sad pining of Springsteen’s “Glory Days.” Which is why The Hold Steady blew me away the first time I heard them. Here was the soundtrack for lapsed Catholics who didn’t want to grow up but knew they had to. Even when Craig Finn sings “Lord, to be 17 forever,” he later adds “Lord, to be 33 forever.” In ten years, I’m sure it would be “Lord to be 43 forever.” As tempting as perpetual youth is, it’s not living. That realization has made me a much happier, saner person in the last few years.
Next week, all the way to number 1. I don’t think it will be much of a surprise....
First things first: Last week’s Top 10 was an open poetry slam, for which I promised a prize. Ten different people responded, so I used this scientific method to select a winner. I rolled a 4, so congratulations to the man who puts the “bit” in bitter, Res Publica, el jeffe de Republic of Dogs. Res wins a $20 Amazon gift certificate for helping me out. Res, shoot me an e-mail me at brando.cjsd at yahoo dot com so I can e-mail you your gift. There is one stipulation: you must use the purchase at Amazon's new cockring store.
So, the music. You may want to use the facilities and grab a beverage, because this is a long ‘un.
A few weeks ago, The Lovely Becky went on our lovely college radio station to play two hours of her favorite music. I was extremely jealous, because I constantly have a burning desire to a) share my opinions in a definitive manner and b) apply “a” to music whenever possible. It also got me thinking about the songs that have made the biggest impact on my life.
I’ve been a music fan since my parents bought me a Mickey Mouse record player when I was a kid. I played your standard kid fare, but my earliest forays into pop music were Meco’s disco remake of the Star Wars theme and Chipmunk Punk. I am not lying when I say that Alvin and company turned me into a rock fan, albeit a fan for sped up vocals sung by fake animals.
When I was 10, my parents bought me a boom box for Christmas. That really opened the floodgates, as I started taping stuff off the radio a lot. I wish I still had those old Memorex tapes, full of The Knack and Blondie and Loverboy, with songs starting as the DJ talked over them and getting cut off three seconds into the following commercial. I would sit and listen for hours, waiting for a new song I wanted to record. These kids with their Internets and their torrent sharing, they don’t know how good they got it.
So for the next two Random 11s, I’m going to pick the 22 most significant songs from my life. They may have influenced me creatively, gotten me through some tough times, or turned me into the overgrown adolescent dillweed I am today. But they played some role in me being me.
22) “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band,” The Beatles. I’ll cut off the pretentious cobag accusations with this revelation: the first album I played to death after I got my boom box was Kenny Rogers Greatest Hits. I loved how every song told a story, and how the melody helped you remember the story. It was like redneck prog, minus the time changes and swords and demons.
Growing up in the 70s, I also soaked in The Beatles like Palmolive, and I knew a lot of their songs as well. Which is why Sgt. Pepper’s was the first tape I bought for my boom box.
The title track isn’t even my favorite song in the album, but the concept is what hooked me. Like Kenny Rogers, the album told a story, but more than that, The Beatles were pretending to be someone else, a fictional band playing a fictional concert. It struck a chord as deep and lasting as the final one in “A Day in the Life.” The opening title song epitomized that fiction, starting with the crowd and orchestra sounds and going all the way until they introduced Billy Shears before “With a Little Help From My Friends.”
21) “Take It on the Run,” REO Speedwagon. If Kenny Rogers doesn’t take me down, this certainly chops me at the knees.
To say I played Hi Infidelity a lot would be like saying there are a lot of Orcs in Mordor: a true yet woefully inadequate assessment. I didn’t just play this album, I air guitared it every chance I could get. I wanted to be on stage, ripping off Gary Richrath solos and having thousands cheer. By the time I would get to the solo in “Take It on the Run,” I was someone else, somewhere else, letting my imagination run as wild as the notes squealing out of the speakers. It pretty much ensured that I would be a life-long music fan. That makes this song a diamond in my book, even if the sparkle is stained with cheese.
20) “Country Feedback,” R.E.M. This song came out when TLB and I almost broke up. We both went to separate colleges, thousands of miles apart. To everyone’s surprise, including our own, we made it work. The problems started when I started making plans for post-graduation. I wanted to go to graduate school, and the places I picked would have kept me away from TLB for another year at least (she was a year behind me in school). The thought of more long distance and putting something else in front of us became too much. Visiting her that summer, we spent our time together growing steadily apart.
Like millions of other people that year, we played R.E.M.’s Out of Time religiously. This song in particular captured how I felt about what was happening: a dark sense of loss, that it was all slipping away and there was nothing I could do about it.
Except I could. I realized, like Michael Stipe sang, “I need this.” I needed TLB more than anything else in the world, because I didn’t want to be singing a song like “Country Feedback” and wondering how I let the thing we all chase harder than anything slip away. So I promised her that once I finished undergraduate school, I’d go to graduate school at her college so I could be with her. That saved our relationship. Now this song reminds me of what could have happened but didn’t.
19) “Still Be Around,” Uncle Tupelo. This is the flip side of “Country Feedback.” I had decided to go to grad school to be with TLB, but hadn’t thought much beyond that. While I was still away, she put this song on a mix tape for me. Now, as a long-distance couple in the 80s and 90s, we had a long history of mix-taping. There are probably a half-dozen other songs I could put here that would be equally important. But this one captured what we had gone through: after four years of being apart, we still wanted to be together. What more did I need to realize I wanted to be with this woman for the rest of my life? When TLB came out to California to help me move, I planned a stop in Monterrey, where I got down on one knee in front of the ocean and asked her to always be around. When this song plays now, I always think of that moment.
18) “(What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace, Love, and Understanding,” Elvis Costello and the Attractions. I was a very tardy Costello fan, not really getting into him until I was in my late 20s. I was also not a liberal until late in life, as it took me a long time to divorce the conservative beliefs I inherited. Nothing sped up that process like the events after 9/11, when I watched terrorists use murder to supposedly promote freedom, and then watched our government squash freedom to ostensibly fight terror. It all seemed so nuts. One day I was driving down the street, thinking about the insanity of it all, and this song came on. I’d heard it plenty of times, but never quite like this. I sang along as loud as I could. When the song ended, I felt energized, like I wanted to say my piece about what was going on....
17) “Far Away,” Sleater-Kinney. Shortly after my Road to Iowa City event, I picked up Sleater-Kinney’s One Beat, which featured this song. After all the rah-rah flag humping filled the airwaves, it was a breath of fresh air. No other song about 9/11 sounds as horrified, appalled, and angry as this one. I still play it all the time, and it hit the same chord Elvis Costello did.
All great comedy comes from the blackest of emotions, from pain, anger, and depression. Hearing songs like this made me want to vent, but I don’t vent like this song does. The more pissed I get, the more I joke, skewering with humor. These songs didn’t plant the blogging seed, but they definitely shaped what grew from that seed. Some of my best stuff has been written while these two songs have played, and I think a lot of what I’ve written tries to focus their energy through my own prism.
Plus, I like women that rock. More on that next time.
16) “Highway to Hell,” AC/DC. It is no secret that I have a lot of Beavis in me. For all my master debating and cunning linguistics, at my heart I’m a 14-year-old boy that wants to play games and think about girls and listen to rock music. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that you do have to grow up, that having a Peter Pan complex isn’t healthy. At the same time that inner Beavis is still a core part of who I am. When I throw in some AC/DC, I get to release him for a bit, let him air guitar and shout fire! for a few healthy minutes. No other song lets me do that like “Highway to Hell.” Monster guitar riff, snarling Bon Scott, and singing about literally rocking you straight to hell. It’s a Flintstone vitamin for my soul.
15) “Welcome to the Jungle,” Guns N' Roses. I had a hair band problem in high school. As in I liked them. Ratt, Dokken, Whitesnake...the REO admission is tame by comparison. When I was a senior in high school, I took off with a couple friends to the beach. While riding in the back of my friend’s jeep, he popped in Appetite for Destruction. This was another of those musical moments where the scales fell from my ears. What the fuck was this? It sounded so dangerous and sleazy and genuine. There were no overly flashy solos or lunk-headed party anthems or faux danger. When Axl screamed “You’re in the jungle, baby, and you’re gonna die,” it sounded like he not only meant it, but had lived through it. For me, that moment stabbed hair metal through the heart with a sharpened can of Aqua Net.
Except for Def Leppard. I can’t quit Pyromania.
14) “Master of Puppets,” Metallica. Despite being into metal, I had avoided the really heavy, thrashing stuff in high school. I’m not sure why, because nothing gets Beavis going like fast riffs and pounding double-bass drums. But after seeing the GnR light and also discovering punk music, I gave the thrashier stuff a try. I borrowed my buddy’s Metallica CDs, and Master of Puppets immediately became a desert island disc. It sounded as dangerous and dark as GnR, but it added a progressive streak, with musical twists and turns amid the aggressive head banging. Even though I hate everything these guys now stand for, I still love this song.
“Highway to Hell,” “Welcome to the Jungle,” and “Master of Puppets” form a metal fountain of youth for me. When I feel the weight of the adult world bearing down, I play these songs and still get that youthful buzz. With every passing year, that fountain becomes more valuable to me.
13) “This Boy Is Exhausted,” The Wrens. There’s a famous scene in Garden State where Natalie Portman tells Zach Braff to listen to The Shins, because they would change your life.
The Wrens Meadowlands is my Garden State Shins. I was at a low point when this album came out. I had just gotten rejected again from the Iowa Writer’s Workshop, after doing the best writing I had ever done to that point in my life. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to keep trying, yet the prospect of ditching writing to focus on my day job seemed even more depressing. TLB and I were also in the trenches of infertility. I was, frankly, exhausted.
Lots of musicians write about being angry teens, disillusioned 20-somethings, or remorseful middle-aged adults regretting what could have been. This album captured that in-between time, being in your 30s and not only feeling clueless about what you wanted to do, but realizing you were running out of time to do it. I don't think any other album has ever captured my mood the way this one did. It was the perfect album at the perfect time.
As “Country Feedback” and hundreds of other songs have done, wallowing in this musical depression became cathartic and helped pull me out of the funk I was in. When it comes to the Hi Fidelity question of “do I listen to pop music because I’m miserable, or am I miserable because I listen to pop music,” it’s definitely the former for me. And miserable music can almost always make me feel less miserable.
12) “Stevie Nix,” The Hold Steady. A lot of this 30-ish turmoil had to do with the conflict between being the person I was raised and the person I was becoming. I had gone through a whole range of changes: reversing most of my political beliefs, losing at least some of my religion, and not knowing what I wanted to “do” with my life. Maybe that’s why I had a Peter Pan complex in the first place: being young and not having to think and question seemed so much easier.
Of course, I know that’s a dead end, that it leads to the sad pining of Springsteen’s “Glory Days.” Which is why The Hold Steady blew me away the first time I heard them. Here was the soundtrack for lapsed Catholics who didn’t want to grow up but knew they had to. Even when Craig Finn sings “Lord, to be 17 forever,” he later adds “Lord, to be 33 forever.” In ten years, I’m sure it would be “Lord to be 43 forever.” As tempting as perpetual youth is, it’s not living. That realization has made me a much happier, saner person in the last few years.
Next week, all the way to number 1. I don’t think it will be much of a surprise....
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Pope Benedict Announces Reforming of the Crusades
Plans Warm-Up Gig for Muslim Representatives at the United Nations
WASHINGTON - Pope Benedict XVI announced today that he is reforming the classic supergroup the Crusaders and will embark on a new tour and the first new work of the group in centuries.
“It is time for The Church to return to its roots in bringing souls to Christ,” said the Pope. He said that the group would make its first performance in more than 700 years later this week in front of representatives from Islamic countries at the United Nations
Critics immediately saw this as a shrewd move by a Catholic Church desperate for a hit. “They haven’t had much success since the release of ‘Vernacular Spectacular (Guitar Mass Blues)’ off Vatican II,” said noted music critic Anthony DeCurtis and author of Knights in White Satin: The Story of the Crusades. “It’s not surprising to see them try to capitalize on their biggest hits.”
Others greeted the announcement with blood-thirsty glee. “My prayers have finally been answered,” said William Donohue, president of the Catholic League. “I’ve been saving my cross shield and long sword for this day.”
The Pope, however, cautioned that this would be a different kind of Crusade.
“When you’re young, you’re full of the Holy Spirit and vinegar, and shedding blood for Christ seems so appealing,” wrote the pontiff on his MySpace page. “But we’ve learned a lot in the last ten centuries. This new crusade will capture the sound and energy of the original, but incorporate a lot of electronic and virtual elements. We want to spill the blood of your mind and soul more than your body.”
Divine debut
Considered by many to be the greatest religious-based warfare ever recorded, Crusades I set a new standard for bringing God into battle. While the Crusaders borrowed heavily from earlier influences such as Greeks, Romans, pre-Christian barbarians, and even the Jews and Muslims whom they fought, they fused these holy war influences with the seemingly non-violent message of Christ, making something uniquely their own.
“Crusades I took the world by storm,” said Rolling Stone editor David Fricke. “But beneath its everyman popularity was a real complex, even contradictory sound, meshing ‘turn the other cheek’ with ‘hit that cheek with a mace.’”
Crusades I spawned two major hits. “The Siege of Antioch” was a dark, violent work that captured the fervor and fury of the Crusaders. But it was the epic “The Siege of Jerusalem” that established Crusades I as the holy war of its generation.
Medieval critics showered Crusades I with universal acclaim. Ye Olde Musical Express called it “a tour de forces.” Der Aller Musikführer said that you could “practically feel the hot, salty spray of non-Christian blood on your ears.”
“Essential,” wrote Roger Bacon in his review in Spinne. “From Copenhagen to Constantinople, you can’t go anywhere without feeling the influence of Crusades I.”
Feudal follow-ups
With Crusades II, the group released an ambitious double crusade. The first half revisited the area well overrun in “The Siege of Jerusalem,” causing many critics to say they had heard this all before. But the Portuguese-influenced second half produced the smash hit, “Stairway to Libson (No More Moors)” and catapulted the Crusaders to even greater popularity.
Success, however, also brought problems. As the Crusaders approached their third work, they encountered artistic differences. “There was a lot of arguing over slaughter,” said former Village Voice music critic and author of Christgau on the Crusades Robert Christgau. “Some members felt that had taken the blood-soaked religious war as far as they could, while others wanted to go for an even heavier, brutal approach.”
These disagreements were compounded by a problem that everyone knew about but chose to ignore: rampant plundering. Indeed, the pursuit of easy loot became as much of a focus of subsequent Crusades as a passion for militarized Christianity.
Just as the work on Crusades III began, tragedy struck. Holy Roman Emperor Frederick I—known as “the cute one”—died when he fell from the cupola of the Vatican after proclaiming he was “a golden god.” His death exacerbated tensions between Phillip II—the French one—and Richard III, known as “the lionhearted one.” Critics panned Phillip’s decision to record his contributions in his traditional, aloof “Francophone” sound. Meanwhile, the Lionheart received the lion’s share of the acclaim, so much so that Crusades III became known informally as The Lionheart Album. But while Richard had success with “The Battle of Arsuf” and would become the face of the Crusaders, neither he nor any other Christian warriors would never approach the success of “The Siege of Jerusalem” again.
Indulgence and irrelevance
The frictions that surfaced during Crusades III would boil over during Crusades IV. Originally intending to get back to their Middle Eastern roots, the Crusaders instead declared themselves “bigger than Byzantium” before sacking Constantinople. This led to a schism with their Eastern Orthodox fans and, unbeknownst at the time, to the ultimate decline of the Crusades.
Five other Crusades followed, each less commercially successful than the last. A hodge-podge of side Crusades projects further diluted the appeal of the crusades, including their attempt to break into the tween market with the widely panned Children’s Crusade. Finally, after Crusades IX failed to chart, the Crusaders broke up.
Reformation and ressurection
The Church attempted to capitalize on the legacy of the Crusades with similar calls for conversion and obedience, but heavy use of gold, lands, noble titles, and indulgences made The Church’s message increasingly irrelevant and isolated them from their followers. Whatever chance they had to recapture the fire Crusades I fizzled when Christians everywhere turned to the new, personal, stripped-down sound of Martin Luther.
“‘96 Theses’ changed everything,” said Greil Marcus, author of (We’re So) Pretty Sacred: The Fifty Greatest Religious Conflicts. “It used to be that you couldn’t launch a Christian religious war without the Pope’s blessing. But now anyone could start a violent, bloody struggle in the name of Christ. It was very liberating.”
Soon, religious wars broke out all over Europe as Christians rushed to start their own personal crusades. This fervor eventually led to the Thirty Years War, which proved more violent and bloody than the Crusades ever dreamed. And a hardcore, local crusade scene flourished worldwide, most notably with the witch trials of Salem, Massachusetts.
Eventually, The Church realized it had to get clean and get focused if it wanted to recapture its position as the spiritual leader of Christianity. After entering a reformation clinic, The Church returned with the new, kinder, adult contemporary vibe of Vatican I and Vatican II, the sound it followed through the reign of Pope John Paul II.
Which is why Pope Benedict’s call for a new Crusade has surprised many. “I didn’t think they had it in them,” says Penelope Spheris, director of The Decline of Western Civilization: The Crusade Years. “I mean, who wants to see a middle-aged Crusader, in tight chainmail, trying to sack cities like he’s 20 years old again?”
But others feel that Pope Benedict is just the man to restart the Crusades. “After all,” says Robert Christgau, “who better to get the Church back to its fighting spirit than a German pope?”
WASHINGTON - Pope Benedict XVI announced today that he is reforming the classic supergroup the Crusaders and will embark on a new tour and the first new work of the group in centuries.
“It is time for The Church to return to its roots in bringing souls to Christ,” said the Pope. He said that the group would make its first performance in more than 700 years later this week in front of representatives from Islamic countries at the United Nations
Critics immediately saw this as a shrewd move by a Catholic Church desperate for a hit. “They haven’t had much success since the release of ‘Vernacular Spectacular (Guitar Mass Blues)’ off Vatican II,” said noted music critic Anthony DeCurtis and author of Knights in White Satin: The Story of the Crusades. “It’s not surprising to see them try to capitalize on their biggest hits.”
Others greeted the announcement with blood-thirsty glee. “My prayers have finally been answered,” said William Donohue, president of the Catholic League. “I’ve been saving my cross shield and long sword for this day.”
The Pope, however, cautioned that this would be a different kind of Crusade.
“When you’re young, you’re full of the Holy Spirit and vinegar, and shedding blood for Christ seems so appealing,” wrote the pontiff on his MySpace page. “But we’ve learned a lot in the last ten centuries. This new crusade will capture the sound and energy of the original, but incorporate a lot of electronic and virtual elements. We want to spill the blood of your mind and soul more than your body.”
Divine debut
Considered by many to be the greatest religious-based warfare ever recorded, Crusades I set a new standard for bringing God into battle. While the Crusaders borrowed heavily from earlier influences such as Greeks, Romans, pre-Christian barbarians, and even the Jews and Muslims whom they fought, they fused these holy war influences with the seemingly non-violent message of Christ, making something uniquely their own.
“Crusades I took the world by storm,” said Rolling Stone editor David Fricke. “But beneath its everyman popularity was a real complex, even contradictory sound, meshing ‘turn the other cheek’ with ‘hit that cheek with a mace.’”
Crusades I spawned two major hits. “The Siege of Antioch” was a dark, violent work that captured the fervor and fury of the Crusaders. But it was the epic “The Siege of Jerusalem” that established Crusades I as the holy war of its generation.
Medieval critics showered Crusades I with universal acclaim. Ye Olde Musical Express called it “a tour de forces.” Der Aller Musikführer said that you could “practically feel the hot, salty spray of non-Christian blood on your ears.”
“Essential,” wrote Roger Bacon in his review in Spinne. “From Copenhagen to Constantinople, you can’t go anywhere without feeling the influence of Crusades I.”
Feudal follow-ups
With Crusades II, the group released an ambitious double crusade. The first half revisited the area well overrun in “The Siege of Jerusalem,” causing many critics to say they had heard this all before. But the Portuguese-influenced second half produced the smash hit, “Stairway to Libson (No More Moors)” and catapulted the Crusaders to even greater popularity.
Success, however, also brought problems. As the Crusaders approached their third work, they encountered artistic differences. “There was a lot of arguing over slaughter,” said former Village Voice music critic and author of Christgau on the Crusades Robert Christgau. “Some members felt that had taken the blood-soaked religious war as far as they could, while others wanted to go for an even heavier, brutal approach.”
These disagreements were compounded by a problem that everyone knew about but chose to ignore: rampant plundering. Indeed, the pursuit of easy loot became as much of a focus of subsequent Crusades as a passion for militarized Christianity.
Just as the work on Crusades III began, tragedy struck. Holy Roman Emperor Frederick I—known as “the cute one”—died when he fell from the cupola of the Vatican after proclaiming he was “a golden god.” His death exacerbated tensions between Phillip II—the French one—and Richard III, known as “the lionhearted one.” Critics panned Phillip’s decision to record his contributions in his traditional, aloof “Francophone” sound. Meanwhile, the Lionheart received the lion’s share of the acclaim, so much so that Crusades III became known informally as The Lionheart Album. But while Richard had success with “The Battle of Arsuf” and would become the face of the Crusaders, neither he nor any other Christian warriors would never approach the success of “The Siege of Jerusalem” again.
Indulgence and irrelevance
The frictions that surfaced during Crusades III would boil over during Crusades IV. Originally intending to get back to their Middle Eastern roots, the Crusaders instead declared themselves “bigger than Byzantium” before sacking Constantinople. This led to a schism with their Eastern Orthodox fans and, unbeknownst at the time, to the ultimate decline of the Crusades.
Five other Crusades followed, each less commercially successful than the last. A hodge-podge of side Crusades projects further diluted the appeal of the crusades, including their attempt to break into the tween market with the widely panned Children’s Crusade. Finally, after Crusades IX failed to chart, the Crusaders broke up.
Reformation and ressurection
The Church attempted to capitalize on the legacy of the Crusades with similar calls for conversion and obedience, but heavy use of gold, lands, noble titles, and indulgences made The Church’s message increasingly irrelevant and isolated them from their followers. Whatever chance they had to recapture the fire Crusades I fizzled when Christians everywhere turned to the new, personal, stripped-down sound of Martin Luther.
“‘96 Theses’ changed everything,” said Greil Marcus, author of (We’re So) Pretty Sacred: The Fifty Greatest Religious Conflicts. “It used to be that you couldn’t launch a Christian religious war without the Pope’s blessing. But now anyone could start a violent, bloody struggle in the name of Christ. It was very liberating.”
Soon, religious wars broke out all over Europe as Christians rushed to start their own personal crusades. This fervor eventually led to the Thirty Years War, which proved more violent and bloody than the Crusades ever dreamed. And a hardcore, local crusade scene flourished worldwide, most notably with the witch trials of Salem, Massachusetts.
Eventually, The Church realized it had to get clean and get focused if it wanted to recapture its position as the spiritual leader of Christianity. After entering a reformation clinic, The Church returned with the new, kinder, adult contemporary vibe of Vatican I and Vatican II, the sound it followed through the reign of Pope John Paul II.
Which is why Pope Benedict’s call for a new Crusade has surprised many. “I didn’t think they had it in them,” says Penelope Spheris, director of The Decline of Western Civilization: The Crusade Years. “I mean, who wants to see a middle-aged Crusader, in tight chainmail, trying to sack cities like he’s 20 years old again?”
But others feel that Pope Benedict is just the man to restart the Crusades. “After all,” says Robert Christgau, “who better to get the Church back to its fighting spirit than a German pope?”
Monday, April 14, 2008
Top Ten Tuesdays: Why are we so bitter?
Special Mad Libs contest edition!
I am on the road all day tomorrow, traveling back to the land of ice and snow where the spring time wind is supposed to blow instead of suck. Seeing as I no longer blog and drive since that incident at the monster truck show, I won't be able to post a Top 10 tomorrow. Plus, a whole weekend of discussing features and benefits, in person, without a hint of irony, has left my creative juices a tad drained. So I'm turning some of the fun over to you, dear readers. I'll get us started with a top 10 item, and you can put your entries in the comments. I will randomly pick a winner in Friday's Random 11 and send that person avery special prize.
10) So busy that we have to resort to the kinds of cheap content gimmicks used by Atrios and morning zoo programs.
I am on the road all day tomorrow, traveling back to the land of ice and snow where the spring time wind is supposed to blow instead of suck. Seeing as I no longer blog and drive since that incident at the monster truck show, I won't be able to post a Top 10 tomorrow. Plus, a whole weekend of discussing features and benefits, in person, without a hint of irony, has left my creative juices a tad drained. So I'm turning some of the fun over to you, dear readers. I'll get us started with a top 10 item, and you can put your entries in the comments. I will randomly pick a winner in Friday's Random 11 and send that person a
10) So busy that we have to resort to the kinds of cheap content gimmicks used by Atrios and morning zoo programs.
Happy Birthday, TLB!
The Lovely Becky turned another year lovlier today. It's the 20th birthday I've celebrated with her, and sadly, one I had to celebrate away from her since I was off earning money to by the moose oil we so desparately need.
I usually get TLB the same present every year. That may sound boring, but she seems to enjoy opening it each birthday. In fact, she's hinted it's what she wishes for when she blows out the cake. But this year, she had to unwrap her pool boy all by herself.
Wait...maybe that is what she wished for.
So stop on by and say hey to my lovely lady. I'll be home tomorrow to see if a) our pool is clean and b) if we have a pool.
I usually get TLB the same present every year. That may sound boring, but she seems to enjoy opening it each birthday. In fact, she's hinted it's what she wishes for when she blows out the cake. But this year, she had to unwrap her pool boy all by herself.
Wait...maybe that is what she wished for.
So stop on by and say hey to my lovely lady. I'll be home tomorrow to see if a) our pool is clean and b) if we have a pool.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Working on the weekend
I had to bug out early on Friday to go out of town for work. Originally, I expected to have a fairly leisurely travel day, with plenty of time to post the first part of my most influential songs Random 11. Of course, this being April in the UP, we had a snow storm. I had to get out of Dodge early before I couldn't get out of Dodge. And now I'm working over the whole weekend, so the funny will have to wait. I'll be back with a Top Ten on Tuesday.
I'd also like to note that I'm two weeks away from another Vegas trip for Tickle's bachelor party. This one may actually kill me.
I'd also like to note that I'm two weeks away from another Vegas trip for Tickle's bachelor party. This one may actually kill me.
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Top Ten Tuesdays: Why did we get snubbed by the Pulitzer committee?
10) No category for Lost fan fiction.
9) Liberal bias prevented committee from recognizing Liberal Bias.
8) Kidnapped judges in order to write investigative report on the kidnapping of Pulitzer judges.
7) Composition Flight of the Chocolate Skittles for Concerto and Barf Bag considered tasteless bordering on toxic.
6) Writing novel about taking eleven years to write a Pulitzer Prize-winning novel not the same as taking eleven years to write a Pulitzer Prize-winning novel.
5) Still fighting for academic acceptance of naughty limericks.
4) Apparently none of the dillweeds who gave a special music award to Bob Dylan have ever heard of a little band called Led Zeppelin.
3) Photograph series, “What Will You Do for Mardi Gras Beads?” deemed too hot for prize recognition, but can be yours for just $19.95 plus shipping and handling.
2) Committee didn’t like our LOLcat adaptation of Tennessee Williams, Im on Ur Hot Tin Roofz Watching Ur Family Disintegrate.
1) Our nomination in the snark category was not taken seriously.
9) Liberal bias prevented committee from recognizing Liberal Bias.
8) Kidnapped judges in order to write investigative report on the kidnapping of Pulitzer judges.
7) Composition Flight of the Chocolate Skittles for Concerto and Barf Bag considered tasteless bordering on toxic.
6) Writing novel about taking eleven years to write a Pulitzer Prize-winning novel not the same as taking eleven years to write a Pulitzer Prize-winning novel.
5) Still fighting for academic acceptance of naughty limericks.
4) Apparently none of the dillweeds who gave a special music award to Bob Dylan have ever heard of a little band called Led Zeppelin.
3) Photograph series, “What Will You Do for Mardi Gras Beads?” deemed too hot for prize recognition, but can be yours for just $19.95 plus shipping and handling.
2) Committee didn’t like our LOLcat adaptation of Tennessee Williams, Im on Ur Hot Tin Roofz Watching Ur Family Disintegrate.
1) Our nomination in the snark category was not taken seriously.
Friday, April 04, 2008
Friday CJ Random 11
It's one more random than 10!
Today I walked to get lunch without putting on:
-- a coat
-- boots
-- sled harnesses on the cats
That’s the definition of a good day after a long, long winter.
The other big thing this week is that I finished a story for the first time in a long time. Not finished finished. It’s a first draft, and like all first drafts, it’s shitty and needs to be rewritten. But considering I’ve had a bad rut the last couple years of starting fiction pieces and not finishing them, it's an accomplishment. Plus I feel like, despite its present shitiness, it has the potential to turn into something pretty awesome.
1) “Dear John,” Ryan Adams and the Cardinals. Just a heartbreaking, beautiful song. Ryan Adams is always hit or miss, but when he hits, he hits for power.
2) “Sleeping Giant,” Mastodon. Heartbreaking as well, but more like a lance piercing the breastplate of your plate mail during a titanic battle against Orcs heartbreaking. I would have gone apeshit for this when I was 14.
3) “Untitled Track No. 8,” Sigur Ros. From the ( ) album. Almost as long as the Marquette winter. Normally You Tube comments are where intelligence goes to die a horrible, capped, misspelled death. But I have to agree with the first commenter about this song: "Magic." It really is.
4) “Immigrant Song,” Led Zeppelin. If Michelle Malkin had a Facebook page, I would send her this song to her every day, just to annoy her. Warning: the video may cause seizures from the strobe-light editing job.
5) “Post-War,” M. Ward. Like a jacuzzi bath for your ears. So relaxing. And no pruning.
6) “I Feel,” The Sundays. I do feel fine today. I struggled all week with this brochure I had to write for work. I didn’t really want to write it, and I procrastinated and started and stopped and generally got stuck with this thing hanging over my head all week. Finally, this morning, I got up early, sat down, and banged it out. And the rest of the day has just been gravy. There’s nothing like having that feeling on a Friday.
7) “Challenger,” American Music Club. One of those groups I have that I haven’t really explored, but always look up from what I’m doing when one of their songs comes on.
8) “Charmer,” Kings of Leon. There’s a very disconcerting, Ned Flanders-esque scream that like fingernails across a blackboard that’s strapped to my ear. Which is too bad, because it's otherwise a good song.
9) “History Never Repeats,” Split Enz. You can never go wrong with a little Neil Finn.
10) “Tommy the Cat,” Primus. Normally, when it comes to Primus, I am all DO NOT WANT. But I can haz this, especially with Tom Waits starring as Tommy.
11) “Teenage Depression,” Eddie and the Hot Rods. TLB often tells me that my biggest problem is that I had a very happy childhood. It’s true. My teenage years in particular were a lot of fun. Not in a sad, nostalgic “Glory Days” sort of way. It’s just that I had friends I liked, a lot of good times, and not a lot of trouble. The best way to describe them would be carefree. The worst thing that happened to me during that time—which at the time seemed like The Worst Thing in the World™—was having to move right before my senior year. But if I hadn’t moved, I wouldn’t have met TLB. Like I said, carefree.
So earlier this week, I was bemoaning work to TLB. I had been kind of down, not just about what I was doing this week, but work in general. I thought how much it sucks that, once you start working, you keep working constantly until you get old and retire. If you’re lucky enough to get an academic job, you get summers off, but not quite the same way as when you were a kid. Carefree seems so much harder to come by.
But then I got my project done, walked outside into the spring air, and felt completely fine. I thought about all the good things that have happened to me lately, and how even the big bad winter wasn’t that big and bad, even if it was long. And honestly, I felt pretty damn silly about my kvetching earlier. Maybe that’s the big benefit of getting older, knowing that, in the end, most things aren’t worth getting upset over, because you’re having a baby, you finished something you really care about, and you have a lot of good music to listen to.
Have a great weekend. I’m also planning a special two-part Random 11 the next two Fridays—the 22 songs that have most influenced me in my life.
Today I walked to get lunch without putting on:
-- a coat
-- boots
-- sled harnesses on the cats
That’s the definition of a good day after a long, long winter.
The other big thing this week is that I finished a story for the first time in a long time. Not finished finished. It’s a first draft, and like all first drafts, it’s shitty and needs to be rewritten. But considering I’ve had a bad rut the last couple years of starting fiction pieces and not finishing them, it's an accomplishment. Plus I feel like, despite its present shitiness, it has the potential to turn into something pretty awesome.
1) “Dear John,” Ryan Adams and the Cardinals. Just a heartbreaking, beautiful song. Ryan Adams is always hit or miss, but when he hits, he hits for power.
2) “Sleeping Giant,” Mastodon. Heartbreaking as well, but more like a lance piercing the breastplate of your plate mail during a titanic battle against Orcs heartbreaking. I would have gone apeshit for this when I was 14.
3) “Untitled Track No. 8,” Sigur Ros. From the ( ) album. Almost as long as the Marquette winter. Normally You Tube comments are where intelligence goes to die a horrible, capped, misspelled death. But I have to agree with the first commenter about this song: "Magic." It really is.
4) “Immigrant Song,” Led Zeppelin. If Michelle Malkin had a Facebook page, I would send her this song to her every day, just to annoy her. Warning: the video may cause seizures from the strobe-light editing job.
5) “Post-War,” M. Ward. Like a jacuzzi bath for your ears. So relaxing. And no pruning.
6) “I Feel,” The Sundays. I do feel fine today. I struggled all week with this brochure I had to write for work. I didn’t really want to write it, and I procrastinated and started and stopped and generally got stuck with this thing hanging over my head all week. Finally, this morning, I got up early, sat down, and banged it out. And the rest of the day has just been gravy. There’s nothing like having that feeling on a Friday.
7) “Challenger,” American Music Club. One of those groups I have that I haven’t really explored, but always look up from what I’m doing when one of their songs comes on.
8) “Charmer,” Kings of Leon. There’s a very disconcerting, Ned Flanders-esque scream that like fingernails across a blackboard that’s strapped to my ear. Which is too bad, because it's otherwise a good song.
9) “History Never Repeats,” Split Enz. You can never go wrong with a little Neil Finn.
10) “Tommy the Cat,” Primus. Normally, when it comes to Primus, I am all DO NOT WANT. But I can haz this, especially with Tom Waits starring as Tommy.
11) “Teenage Depression,” Eddie and the Hot Rods. TLB often tells me that my biggest problem is that I had a very happy childhood. It’s true. My teenage years in particular were a lot of fun. Not in a sad, nostalgic “Glory Days” sort of way. It’s just that I had friends I liked, a lot of good times, and not a lot of trouble. The best way to describe them would be carefree. The worst thing that happened to me during that time—which at the time seemed like The Worst Thing in the World™—was having to move right before my senior year. But if I hadn’t moved, I wouldn’t have met TLB. Like I said, carefree.
So earlier this week, I was bemoaning work to TLB. I had been kind of down, not just about what I was doing this week, but work in general. I thought how much it sucks that, once you start working, you keep working constantly until you get old and retire. If you’re lucky enough to get an academic job, you get summers off, but not quite the same way as when you were a kid. Carefree seems so much harder to come by.
But then I got my project done, walked outside into the spring air, and felt completely fine. I thought about all the good things that have happened to me lately, and how even the big bad winter wasn’t that big and bad, even if it was long. And honestly, I felt pretty damn silly about my kvetching earlier. Maybe that’s the big benefit of getting older, knowing that, in the end, most things aren’t worth getting upset over, because you’re having a baby, you finished something you really care about, and you have a lot of good music to listen to.
Have a great weekend. I’m also planning a special two-part Random 11 the next two Fridays—the 22 songs that have most influenced me in my life.
Thursday, April 03, 2008
Smar-T: The Global Clue Positioning System
In a luxurious car, a female investment banker and a male investment banker talk.
MALE BANKER
Wow, I can’t believe you’re really going to quit investment banking.
FEMALE BANKER
The money and security are great, but I want to pursue my dream of going to grad school to study poetry.
A small device on the female banker’s desk lights up and rings.
MALE BANKER
What’s that?
FEMALE BANKER (reaching for the device)
It’s Smar-T, my new GCPS.
MALE BANKER
GCPS?
FEMALE BANKER
Global Clue Positioning System. (She turns on the Smar-T)
SMAR-T (in calm female voice)
Warning! Poverty approaching. Foreclosure, reposession, and student loan default imminent. Final destination: despairing obscurity.
FEMALE BANKER
You know, I could just write my poetry in between mergers. Thanks, Smar-T!
VOICE OVER
Smar-T is the revolutionary new device that gives you direction when you reach the crossroads of life. It delivers the clues you need when you need them most.
Inside a bar, two men, Frank and Benny, talk over beers.
FRANK
So I took your advice, even though Smar-T said not to. I told her I couldn’t deal with sneaking around any more and that she should tell her husband.
BENNY
Hey, you gonna trust your buddy Benny or some stupid piece of plastic? (They clink bottles.) So what does the husband do?
FRANK
He’s a Green Beret.
Frank’s Smar-T beeps.
SMART-T
Caution! Take immediate evasive action.
The door of the bar bursts open. A large man, dressed in full camo gear, scans the tavern.
CAMO MAN
Which one of you is Frank?
Frank extends his arm over Benny’s head and points to his friend. Camo Man grabs Benny and pulls him off the stool. Off camera, Benny starts to shriek.
FRANK
Thanks, Smar-T. I’ll never turn you off again.
VOICE OVER
Smar-T combines the collective wisdom of the greatest thinkers in human history, including: the Torah, the New Testament, the I-Ching, Poor Richard’s Almanac, Wikipedia, Woody Allen, Bill Cosby, Vulcans from every Star Trek intellectual property, everything your mother ever told you, Winston Churchill, and Oprah. Use it for advice on parenting....
A mother and father talk.
MOTHER
How can we be open about sex with the kids without encouraging them to have sex?
SMAR-T
Suggestion: Intersperse discussion with graphic details of sexually transmitted diseases.
FATHER
I like it. Thanks, Smar-T.
SMAR-T
Downloading gonorrhea slides now.
VOICE OVER
finances...
A broker talks on the phone.
BROKER
Yes, I said take all of it out of Bear Stearns and put into JP Morgan. Trust me, a little birdie told me so.
SMAR-T
Insider information complete. Contacting nearest Porsche dealer now.
BROKER
Smar-T, you da man! Or da woman.
VOICE OVER
and relationships...
In a pitch black bedroom, a bed squeaks as a man and woman breathe heavily.
MAN (urgent)
Oh baby, oh baby...
WOMAN
Not yet, not yet.
The Smar-T lights up in the darkness.
SMAR-T
Climax unaligned. Think about baseball.
MAN
A hundred years since the last Cubs World Series...A hundred years since the last Cubs World Series.
The woman cries out and the man follows. They turn the light on and lie breathless under the covers.
MAN and WOMAN (in unison)
We love you, Smar-T!
VOICE OVER
Why trust your decisions to the irrational, emotional, erratic impulses of the human brain? Let Smar-T show you the way to better decision making today.
At the Trinity United Church of Christ, Reverend Jeremiah Wright preaches.
WRIGHT
I say, no, no, no, not God Bless America...
On his pulpit, his Smar-T vibrates. He pauses to listen to the message.
SMAR-T (whispering)
YouTube cliff approaching. White backlash ahead. African American presidential hopes fading.
The congregation leans in, silent, waiting for the Reverend’s next words.
WRIGHT (clears throat)
So, I say no, no, no, not God Bless America. God double-bless America! This is the greatest country on Earth! USA! USA! USA!
The congregation chants along with him. In one pew, Barack Obama turns around, holding up a Smar-T.
OBAMA
And it makes a great gift!
VOICE OVER
Get smart and get Smar-T today!
Original concept by Saying Yes Enterprises.
MALE BANKER
Wow, I can’t believe you’re really going to quit investment banking.
FEMALE BANKER
The money and security are great, but I want to pursue my dream of going to grad school to study poetry.
A small device on the female banker’s desk lights up and rings.
MALE BANKER
What’s that?
FEMALE BANKER (reaching for the device)
It’s Smar-T, my new GCPS.
MALE BANKER
GCPS?
FEMALE BANKER
Global Clue Positioning System. (She turns on the Smar-T)
SMAR-T (in calm female voice)
Warning! Poverty approaching. Foreclosure, reposession, and student loan default imminent. Final destination: despairing obscurity.
FEMALE BANKER
You know, I could just write my poetry in between mergers. Thanks, Smar-T!
VOICE OVER
Smar-T is the revolutionary new device that gives you direction when you reach the crossroads of life. It delivers the clues you need when you need them most.
Inside a bar, two men, Frank and Benny, talk over beers.
FRANK
So I took your advice, even though Smar-T said not to. I told her I couldn’t deal with sneaking around any more and that she should tell her husband.
BENNY
Hey, you gonna trust your buddy Benny or some stupid piece of plastic? (They clink bottles.) So what does the husband do?
FRANK
He’s a Green Beret.
Frank’s Smar-T beeps.
SMART-T
Caution! Take immediate evasive action.
The door of the bar bursts open. A large man, dressed in full camo gear, scans the tavern.
CAMO MAN
Which one of you is Frank?
Frank extends his arm over Benny’s head and points to his friend. Camo Man grabs Benny and pulls him off the stool. Off camera, Benny starts to shriek.
FRANK
Thanks, Smar-T. I’ll never turn you off again.
VOICE OVER
Smar-T combines the collective wisdom of the greatest thinkers in human history, including: the Torah, the New Testament, the I-Ching, Poor Richard’s Almanac, Wikipedia, Woody Allen, Bill Cosby, Vulcans from every Star Trek intellectual property, everything your mother ever told you, Winston Churchill, and Oprah. Use it for advice on parenting....
A mother and father talk.
MOTHER
How can we be open about sex with the kids without encouraging them to have sex?
SMAR-T
Suggestion: Intersperse discussion with graphic details of sexually transmitted diseases.
FATHER
I like it. Thanks, Smar-T.
SMAR-T
Downloading gonorrhea slides now.
VOICE OVER
finances...
A broker talks on the phone.
BROKER
Yes, I said take all of it out of Bear Stearns and put into JP Morgan. Trust me, a little birdie told me so.
SMAR-T
Insider information complete. Contacting nearest Porsche dealer now.
BROKER
Smar-T, you da man! Or da woman.
VOICE OVER
and relationships...
In a pitch black bedroom, a bed squeaks as a man and woman breathe heavily.
MAN (urgent)
Oh baby, oh baby...
WOMAN
Not yet, not yet.
The Smar-T lights up in the darkness.
SMAR-T
Climax unaligned. Think about baseball.
MAN
A hundred years since the last Cubs World Series...A hundred years since the last Cubs World Series.
The woman cries out and the man follows. They turn the light on and lie breathless under the covers.
MAN and WOMAN (in unison)
We love you, Smar-T!
VOICE OVER
Why trust your decisions to the irrational, emotional, erratic impulses of the human brain? Let Smar-T show you the way to better decision making today.
At the Trinity United Church of Christ, Reverend Jeremiah Wright preaches.
WRIGHT
I say, no, no, no, not God Bless America...
On his pulpit, his Smar-T vibrates. He pauses to listen to the message.
SMAR-T (whispering)
YouTube cliff approaching. White backlash ahead. African American presidential hopes fading.
The congregation leans in, silent, waiting for the Reverend’s next words.
WRIGHT (clears throat)
So, I say no, no, no, not God Bless America. God double-bless America! This is the greatest country on Earth! USA! USA! USA!
The congregation chants along with him. In one pew, Barack Obama turns around, holding up a Smar-T.
OBAMA
And it makes a great gift!
VOICE OVER
Get smart and get Smar-T today!
Original concept by Saying Yes Enterprises.
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Top Ten Tuesdays: What April Fool's pranks did we pull?
10) Passed out special Green Zone whoopee cushions that make the sound of mortar fire.
9) Stuffed cucumber wrapped in tinfoil down pants before going to campus abstinence group meeting.
8) Replaced the water in waterboarding with Palmolive.
7) Hit spring in the groin with a giant snowball.
6) Developed elaborate cross-country road-trip ruse just to kidnap John Cusack.
5) Filled John McCain’s All-Bran with Viagra before breakfast fundraiser with the Concerned Women for America.
4) Hired Publisher’s Clearing House to deliver oversized eviction notices to defaulting home owners.
3) Gave Big Oil a stern tongue lashing before cracking up and giving them the usual tongue bath.
2) Dressed up in sombreros, bandoliers, and fake mustaches, then snuck through Lou Dobbs’s backyard.
1) Sent Americans their tax rebates in pennies.
9) Stuffed cucumber wrapped in tinfoil down pants before going to campus abstinence group meeting.
8) Replaced the water in waterboarding with Palmolive.
7) Hit spring in the groin with a giant snowball.
6) Developed elaborate cross-country road-trip ruse just to kidnap John Cusack.
5) Filled John McCain’s All-Bran with Viagra before breakfast fundraiser with the Concerned Women for America.
4) Hired Publisher’s Clearing House to deliver oversized eviction notices to defaulting home owners.
3) Gave Big Oil a stern tongue lashing before cracking up and giving them the usual tongue bath.
2) Dressed up in sombreros, bandoliers, and fake mustaches, then snuck through Lou Dobbs’s backyard.
1) Sent Americans their tax rebates in pennies.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Friday CJ Random 11
It's one more random than 10!
The Lovely Becky bought me a bag of Chocolate Skittles.
Pinko Punko alerted me to the dangers of the newest addition to the Skittle family in a Delicious or Disgusting entry that had the dire directness of “Bin Laden Determined to Strike in United States.” Several brave souls sacrificed their taste buds to convey the sheer awfulness of this cocoadaemon confection. I had tried to find them, fruitlessly, until TLB managed to smuggle them home this week. With trembling hands, I opened the bag and tasted them.
There was a coercive interrogation in my mouth and everyone was invited to waterboard me. I confessed to being an Al Qaeda terrorist, a member of the Know-Nothings, and D. B. Cooper. Did you ever sneak into the cupboard as a child and to pull out Hersey’s Cocoa, thinking it was chocolate, only to discover that it delivered a dry, bitter, taste of death? It's as if someone said let’s make that experience candy flavored. If Jack Bauer had these in his arsenal, 24 would be over in 24 minutes, as the bad guys would confess the location of the WMD, their twisted moral justification for unleashing the weapon on America, and the identity of the mole in CTU who helped them.
I will now attempt to wash the memory of that taste from my mind with some tunes.
1) “Twilight,” U2. Like the name of the album this song is from, TLB is convinced we’re having a boy. Of course, the name we’re having the most trouble agreeing on is a boy’s name. She’s not happy with my Viking-warrior-sounding suggestions, I’m not keen on names that sound like sensitive poets who never make enough to move out of the house. Maybe I’ll just suggest The Edge.
2) “Hypnotize,” Notorious B.I.G. I just want to let Rev. Jeremiah Wright know that I’m trying.
3) “Ophelia,” The Band. Funky in a completely different way than #2.
4) “Wherever You Go,” Built to Spill. Proof you can get more out of Idaho than good potatoes and white supremacy. Mesmerizing guitar work.
5) “High School,” MC5. What’s the over/under on rock songs about partying in high school? I also can’t tell if using “sis boom bah” as a couplet is a good thing or bad thing. I’m leaning toward good.
6) “Ten Years Gone,” Led Zeppelin. So in case you missed TLB talking on the radio yesterday, she made public her unrelenting hatred of Led Zeppelin. As TLB explained, she grew up in an area where it was Wayne’s World minus the jokes and ironic distance. When she was driving behind a Toyota mini-truck blasting “Whole Lotta Love,” you could bet your mullet the driver of said truck meant the “Yo” inscribed on the tail gate. And while I understand that nurtured musical hatred (I had the same experience, but with VW Jettas and Oingo Boingo), it’s a shame, because there are songs like this that capture the beauty and craftsmanship and show why Zeppelin was so much more than just a white blues band using lemons as metaphors for hand jobs.
7) “Takin’ My Love,” The Jam. The serrated guitar riff could cut an aluminum can and still slice your steak paper thin.
8) “Song 2,” Blur. Woo-hoo! Too good for stadium music directors to ruin it for me.
9) “Tie a Rope to the Back of the Bus,” Superchunk. This is the good flannel.
10) “While My Heart Is Still Beating,” Roxy Music. And this is the anti-flannel.
11) “Bright Future in Sales,” Fountains of Wayne. I don’t think there’s another song that satirizes white collar working life better than this. It’s basically about a sales guy who gets shitfaced and has to work through his hangover at the big sales meeting the next day. I can’t tell you how many of those meetings I have been through with the fog of beer clouding my mind. The worst was one job I had where my first day on the job involved going to the national sales meeting. Sales staff from all over the country were there, and after the opening night session and dinner, the bar was open. “Sales staff” and “expensed booze” go together like mom and apple pie, or like slurred speech and the spins. I tried to be a good boy, having a couple of drinks like a gentleman. I was the only one, however, and when people above you on the org chart are doing shots and dancing like Elaine Benes, it’s hard not to outsource your revelry to Bacchus.
So yadda yadda yadda, I stumbled out of bed at 6:30 a.m. feeling like Slim Pickens after he got hit in the head with a shovel. I cleaned up and sobered up, but became very worried. Did I say anything inappropriate? Given how much I drank, I immediately revised the question: how much did I say that was inappropriate? I hoped I wasn’t That Guy, because it’s bad to be The New Guy and That Guy on the same day. I pulled myself together, ignored my throbbing head, and headed downstairs to drink a keg’s worth of coffee. When I entered the dining area, I noticed a lot of people on the org chart missing or looking like I felt. I was no longer That Guy or The New Guy. I was just one of the guys.
And that’s why I love this song. Although I think Snag could sue Fountains of Wayne for plagiarizing his life.
Have a great weekend. Go North Carolina and Memphis—daddy needs a new pair of shoes for the son he can’t name.
The Lovely Becky bought me a bag of Chocolate Skittles.
Pinko Punko alerted me to the dangers of the newest addition to the Skittle family in a Delicious or Disgusting entry that had the dire directness of “Bin Laden Determined to Strike in United States.” Several brave souls sacrificed their taste buds to convey the sheer awfulness of this cocoadaemon confection. I had tried to find them, fruitlessly, until TLB managed to smuggle them home this week. With trembling hands, I opened the bag and tasted them.
There was a coercive interrogation in my mouth and everyone was invited to waterboard me. I confessed to being an Al Qaeda terrorist, a member of the Know-Nothings, and D. B. Cooper. Did you ever sneak into the cupboard as a child and to pull out Hersey’s Cocoa, thinking it was chocolate, only to discover that it delivered a dry, bitter, taste of death? It's as if someone said let’s make that experience candy flavored. If Jack Bauer had these in his arsenal, 24 would be over in 24 minutes, as the bad guys would confess the location of the WMD, their twisted moral justification for unleashing the weapon on America, and the identity of the mole in CTU who helped them.
I will now attempt to wash the memory of that taste from my mind with some tunes.
1) “Twilight,” U2. Like the name of the album this song is from, TLB is convinced we’re having a boy. Of course, the name we’re having the most trouble agreeing on is a boy’s name. She’s not happy with my Viking-warrior-sounding suggestions, I’m not keen on names that sound like sensitive poets who never make enough to move out of the house. Maybe I’ll just suggest The Edge.
2) “Hypnotize,” Notorious B.I.G. I just want to let Rev. Jeremiah Wright know that I’m trying.
3) “Ophelia,” The Band. Funky in a completely different way than #2.
4) “Wherever You Go,” Built to Spill. Proof you can get more out of Idaho than good potatoes and white supremacy. Mesmerizing guitar work.
5) “High School,” MC5. What’s the over/under on rock songs about partying in high school? I also can’t tell if using “sis boom bah” as a couplet is a good thing or bad thing. I’m leaning toward good.
6) “Ten Years Gone,” Led Zeppelin. So in case you missed TLB talking on the radio yesterday, she made public her unrelenting hatred of Led Zeppelin. As TLB explained, she grew up in an area where it was Wayne’s World minus the jokes and ironic distance. When she was driving behind a Toyota mini-truck blasting “Whole Lotta Love,” you could bet your mullet the driver of said truck meant the “Yo” inscribed on the tail gate. And while I understand that nurtured musical hatred (I had the same experience, but with VW Jettas and Oingo Boingo), it’s a shame, because there are songs like this that capture the beauty and craftsmanship and show why Zeppelin was so much more than just a white blues band using lemons as metaphors for hand jobs.
7) “Takin’ My Love,” The Jam. The serrated guitar riff could cut an aluminum can and still slice your steak paper thin.
8) “Song 2,” Blur. Woo-hoo! Too good for stadium music directors to ruin it for me.
9) “Tie a Rope to the Back of the Bus,” Superchunk. This is the good flannel.
10) “While My Heart Is Still Beating,” Roxy Music. And this is the anti-flannel.
11) “Bright Future in Sales,” Fountains of Wayne. I don’t think there’s another song that satirizes white collar working life better than this. It’s basically about a sales guy who gets shitfaced and has to work through his hangover at the big sales meeting the next day. I can’t tell you how many of those meetings I have been through with the fog of beer clouding my mind. The worst was one job I had where my first day on the job involved going to the national sales meeting. Sales staff from all over the country were there, and after the opening night session and dinner, the bar was open. “Sales staff” and “expensed booze” go together like mom and apple pie, or like slurred speech and the spins. I tried to be a good boy, having a couple of drinks like a gentleman. I was the only one, however, and when people above you on the org chart are doing shots and dancing like Elaine Benes, it’s hard not to outsource your revelry to Bacchus.
So yadda yadda yadda, I stumbled out of bed at 6:30 a.m. feeling like Slim Pickens after he got hit in the head with a shovel. I cleaned up and sobered up, but became very worried. Did I say anything inappropriate? Given how much I drank, I immediately revised the question: how much did I say that was inappropriate? I hoped I wasn’t That Guy, because it’s bad to be The New Guy and That Guy on the same day. I pulled myself together, ignored my throbbing head, and headed downstairs to drink a keg’s worth of coffee. When I entered the dining area, I noticed a lot of people on the org chart missing or looking like I felt. I was no longer That Guy or The New Guy. I was just one of the guys.
And that’s why I love this song. Although I think Snag could sue Fountains of Wayne for plagiarizing his life.
Have a great weekend. Go North Carolina and Memphis—daddy needs a new pair of shoes for the son he can’t name.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Hear The Lovely Becky play her greatest hits
TLB will be on the radio today, cranking two hours of her favorite rock and/or roll music. The local college station hosts a "Professors Corner" where our local academics get to take over the airways and play whatever music the FCC will allow. The DJ will also interview TLB, allowing her to share intimate details about how all of these songs relate to our sex life.*
When: Thursday, 3/27, 12:00 - 2:00 p.m. Eastern
Where: Radio X (click Listen Live on the left to stream
If you check in and take a listen, let TLB know what you think.
*Actual details likely to be omitted.
When: Thursday, 3/27, 12:00 - 2:00 p.m. Eastern
Where: Radio X (click Listen Live on the left to stream
If you check in and take a listen, let TLB know what you think.
*Actual details likely to be omitted.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Lazarus: The Day After
Jesus, once more deeply moved, came to the tomb. It was a cave with a stone laid across the entrance. "Take away the stone," he said.
"But, Lord," said Martha, the sister of the dead man, "by this time there is a bad odor, for he has been there four days."
Then Jesus said, "Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?"
So they took away the stone. Then Jesus looked up and said, "Father, I thank you that you have heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I said this for the benefit of the people standing here, that they may believe that you sent me."
When he had said this, Jesus called in a loud voice, "Lazarus, come out!" The dead man came out, his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen, and a cloth around his face.
Jesus said to them, "Take off the grave clothes and let him go."
--John 11: 38-45
LAZARUS appears at his GIRLFRIEND’s house.
GIRLFRIEND
Lazarus! Is that really you?
LAZARUS (hugging her)
Oh, baby, you have no idea how much I missed you. Those four days away from you felt like an eternity.
GIRLFRIEND (nervous laughter)
Yeah, they felt like an eternity to me, too.
LAZARUS
I have a whole new perspective on life. I'm going to treat every minute like it's my last. That's why I want to get married.
GIRLFRIEND
Married?
LAZARUS
Right away. (Gets down on a knee and presents a spectacular diamond ring.) Will you marry me?
GIRLFRIEND
Wow, look at that ring! Where did you get the money for that?
LAZARUS
I had Jesus make it for me out of clay. So what do you say?
GIRLFRIEND
I can't. I’m sort of...married.
LAZARUS
Married? When did that happen?
GIRLFRIEND
Two days ago.
LAZARUS
You got married two days after I died?
GIRLFRIEND
Hey, I’m already 20. I had to move on with my life. Josephus the Goat Herder asked and I said yes. We didn’t want to wait so we went to that little chapel in Bethlehem.
LAZARUS
I can't believe it.
GIRLFRIEND
Well, sweetie, I can't believe you're not dead.
Lazarus appears at the local shipping dock to see his BOSS.
LAZARUS
Hey, boss.
BOSS
Jesus Christ!
LAZARUS
Exactly!
BOSS
What are you doing here?
LAZARUS
I came back for my old job. I’m ready to fish like there’s no tomorrow and feel the life-affirming satisfaction of a job well done.
BOSS
That’s great, except I already gave your job to someone else.
LAZARUS
Who?
BOSS
A Samaritan. Honestly, he works harder than you did when you were alive.
LAZARUS
But I was only dead for four freaking days!
BOSS
I know, but fish don’t mourn, Lazarus.
LAZARUS
You know what, screw working. Life's too short to waste on a boat with a bunch of smelly fish. I'm going to get my stuff and see the world. The primitive beauty of Gaul. The imperial splendor of Rome. The exotic...exoticness of India.
BOSS
Before you bid us goodbye, you owe me four pieces of silver for the four days you didn't report to work.
Lazarus is at local Roman government office, talking to an OFFICIAL.
LAZARUS
What do you mean I can’t travel abroad?
OFFICIAL (looking over scrolls)
You can’t travel abroad because I don’t have a box to check.
LAZARUS
A box to check?
OFFICIAL
Yes. I have boxes for born, married, divorced, widowed, remarried, multiply married, fed to the lions, fed to the gladiators, stoned, crucified, and 67 other death categories. But no box for "resurrected." And we can’t just let the dead wander the earth, can we? I’m afraid you’ll have to stay in Galilee.
LAZARUS
Until when?
OFFICIAL
Until the Second Coming. (Laughs at his own joke.) Or until I get a box to check.
Lazarus talks to the apostle PETER.
LAZARUS
Peter, I have seen the light. Love, work, travel...I reject all of these pursuits. I want to devote my life to Jesus.
PETER
Terriffic. We are always looking for more disciples.
LAZARUS
Yes, well, I was hoping I could be an apostle.
PETER
I'm afraid we don’t have any openings right now.
LAZARUS
Just add me. The more the merrier!
PETER
Thirteen apostles? We're fishers of men, not the baker's dozen of Christ.
LAZARUS
Come on. I was raised from the dead by your boss! That's gotta make me better candidate than Bartholomew or Simon the Zealot.
PETER
I'm so sorry. But we'll keep your beseeching on file in case something opens up.
Lazarus appears at the farm of his sister, MARTHA.
LAZARUS
I tell you, Martha, I'm so glad to be back home. If you don't mind, I've had a very stressful week, and I'm going to retire early to my room.
MARTHA
Laz, honey, we kind of turned your room into a shrine.
LAZARUS
A shrine?
MARTHA
To Jesus. For resurrecting you. But we fixed you up a nice spot in the barn.
Lazarus lays in the hay in the barn, surrounded by animals. Rain pours in from the leaky roof onto his head.
LAZARUS
I wish I was dead.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Top Ten Tuesdays: What's landing us in hot water?
10) Sending 3 a.m. booty call text to the district attorney.
9) Putting the automatic in automatic pilot.
8) Saying that our political opponents are bigger than Judas.
7) Betting the kids’ college fund on Duke.
6) Learning that our proven track record of monogamy disqualifies us from being governor.
5) Bringing out our dead when they’re not dead yet.
4) Having our national assets in a sling fund.
3) Addding a little too much George Jefferson to our Thomas Jefferson.
2) Admitting recollections manufactured in Bosnia have suffered a factory recall.
1) Being too eager to serve man.
9) Putting the automatic in automatic pilot.
8) Saying that our political opponents are bigger than Judas.
7) Betting the kids’ college fund on Duke.
6) Learning that our proven track record of monogamy disqualifies us from being governor.
5) Bringing out our dead when they’re not dead yet.
4) Having our national assets in a sling fund.
3) Addding a little too much George Jefferson to our Thomas Jefferson.
2) Admitting recollections manufactured in Bosnia have suffered a factory recall.
1) Being too eager to serve man.
Friday, March 21, 2008
Friday CJ Random 11
It’s one more random than 10!
Despite being quite behind in my membership dues, Good Friday always brings out the Catholic in me. I went to Catholic school for 12 years, and we always went to Stations of the Cross during Lent. For those of you who may not be familiar with this, every Catholic church has paintings or engravings depicting the Passion of Christ. The priest starts at the first one, reads a summary of that scene, and moves on to the next one. When he reaches the crucifixion, he pauses and everyone prays in silence for a few minutes. That was always my most Catholic moment of the year, when I really felt what it was all about and could appreciate the solemnity of the story.
Then I would leave church and return to my usual self, acting as if there was a Beatitude that said, Blessed are the smart asses, for they shall inherit the open-mic nights of God. Oh well.
In keeping with that contradiction, I’m honoring Good Friday by picking the first eleven random songs that remind me of Jesus, done in the style that all but ensures I’ll be hearing these again when I descend to Hell for blasphemy.
1) “Gloria,” U2. What better way to start out than with a singer who thinks he is Jesus? I kid because I love, and despite Bono’s pretentions, I love the guy and the band. I appreciate a group that can make Christian rock that doesn’t sound like Color Me Badd set to the Psalms. Or American Idol: Salvation. Or Creed.
2) “The Times They Are A-Changin’,” Bob Dylan. In the case of Christ, the time literally changed with that whole BC/AD switchover. Think Daylight Savings Time would screw you up? What, we have to start at zero and start counting again? Jesus Christ! Oh, it is because of you, My Lord? Of course, no problem, we’ll reconfigure all the calendars. And sorry for the swearing.
3) “Everyday Is Like Sunday,” Morrissey. I imagine every day would feel like Sunday when you followed Jesus around. You couldn’t make dick jokes or lust in your heart, and if you got caught self-violating the temple of your body, He really could make you go blind. On the plus side, the parties never ran out of wine.
4) “Just Like Honey,” Jesus and Mary Chain. Used so brilliantly at the end of Lost in Translation. The relationship between Jesus and Mary Magdalene is kind of like Bill Murray and Scarlet Johansson: two people who want each other in the worst way but can’t because the time just isn’t right. He has to focus on redeeming humanity, she can't become an Apostle because she's a she, and by the time they get some time together, Jesus is risen and has to hurry back to heaven. That's Oscar gold right there.
5) “(What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace, Love, and Understanding,” Brinsley Schwartz. If someone ever decides to make another musical about the Gospel, this would be a great number for Jesus to sing when Pontius Pilate asks the crowd whether to crucify Jesus of Barabbas.
6) “Creeping Death,” Metallica. The rockingest song ever written about Passover. It really illustrates the difference between the Old and New Testament. New Testament is I’m going to let my son die for the sins of you wicked fuckers. Old Testament is You wicked fuckers are going to die for your sins. It’s like after a few thousand years of plagues and curses, God said, You know, it’s not you, it’s Me.
7) “Stronger,” Kanye West. I know one would expect resurrection music tends to be all Handel-ish, but if I’m triumphing over death and destroying sin and celebrating the resurrection of the body, I want something I can strut out of the tomb to.
8) “Why Me, Lord,” Johnny Cash. Not a Cash original, but he sure makes it sound like it. It makes me think of Jesus praying in the garden, which always struck me as the most human moment in the New Testament.
9) “Help!” The Beatles. Or you could go with something more upbeat for the Garden of Gethsemane scene in the musical. P.S: Dear Lord, I really am kidding. Please take it easy on me. At least I didn’t say I was bigger than Jesus!
10) “How a Resurrection Really Feels,” The Hold Steady. The ultimate Catholic bar band. The excessive references to sex and drinking are not really idea for guitar mass, but pretty accurate for Catholic school.
11) “The Ballad of El Goodo,” Big Star. A great song, one so positive and spiritual, even the Angel of Death would put down the sickle and hold his lighter up.
So there you have it. If you’re celebrating Easter, have a happy one. If you’re not, I hope you at least get to enjoy some chocolate.
Despite being quite behind in my membership dues, Good Friday always brings out the Catholic in me. I went to Catholic school for 12 years, and we always went to Stations of the Cross during Lent. For those of you who may not be familiar with this, every Catholic church has paintings or engravings depicting the Passion of Christ. The priest starts at the first one, reads a summary of that scene, and moves on to the next one. When he reaches the crucifixion, he pauses and everyone prays in silence for a few minutes. That was always my most Catholic moment of the year, when I really felt what it was all about and could appreciate the solemnity of the story.
Then I would leave church and return to my usual self, acting as if there was a Beatitude that said, Blessed are the smart asses, for they shall inherit the open-mic nights of God. Oh well.
In keeping with that contradiction, I’m honoring Good Friday by picking the first eleven random songs that remind me of Jesus, done in the style that all but ensures I’ll be hearing these again when I descend to Hell for blasphemy.
1) “Gloria,” U2. What better way to start out than with a singer who thinks he is Jesus? I kid because I love, and despite Bono’s pretentions, I love the guy and the band. I appreciate a group that can make Christian rock that doesn’t sound like Color Me Badd set to the Psalms. Or American Idol: Salvation. Or Creed.
2) “The Times They Are A-Changin’,” Bob Dylan. In the case of Christ, the time literally changed with that whole BC/AD switchover. Think Daylight Savings Time would screw you up? What, we have to start at zero and start counting again? Jesus Christ! Oh, it is because of you, My Lord? Of course, no problem, we’ll reconfigure all the calendars. And sorry for the swearing.
3) “Everyday Is Like Sunday,” Morrissey. I imagine every day would feel like Sunday when you followed Jesus around. You couldn’t make dick jokes or lust in your heart, and if you got caught self-violating the temple of your body, He really could make you go blind. On the plus side, the parties never ran out of wine.
4) “Just Like Honey,” Jesus and Mary Chain. Used so brilliantly at the end of Lost in Translation. The relationship between Jesus and Mary Magdalene is kind of like Bill Murray and Scarlet Johansson: two people who want each other in the worst way but can’t because the time just isn’t right. He has to focus on redeeming humanity, she can't become an Apostle because she's a she, and by the time they get some time together, Jesus is risen and has to hurry back to heaven. That's Oscar gold right there.
5) “(What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace, Love, and Understanding,” Brinsley Schwartz. If someone ever decides to make another musical about the Gospel, this would be a great number for Jesus to sing when Pontius Pilate asks the crowd whether to crucify Jesus of Barabbas.
6) “Creeping Death,” Metallica. The rockingest song ever written about Passover. It really illustrates the difference between the Old and New Testament. New Testament is I’m going to let my son die for the sins of you wicked fuckers. Old Testament is You wicked fuckers are going to die for your sins. It’s like after a few thousand years of plagues and curses, God said, You know, it’s not you, it’s Me.
7) “Stronger,” Kanye West. I know one would expect resurrection music tends to be all Handel-ish, but if I’m triumphing over death and destroying sin and celebrating the resurrection of the body, I want something I can strut out of the tomb to.
8) “Why Me, Lord,” Johnny Cash. Not a Cash original, but he sure makes it sound like it. It makes me think of Jesus praying in the garden, which always struck me as the most human moment in the New Testament.
9) “Help!” The Beatles. Or you could go with something more upbeat for the Garden of Gethsemane scene in the musical. P.S: Dear Lord, I really am kidding. Please take it easy on me. At least I didn’t say I was bigger than Jesus!
10) “How a Resurrection Really Feels,” The Hold Steady. The ultimate Catholic bar band. The excessive references to sex and drinking are not really idea for guitar mass, but pretty accurate for Catholic school.
11) “The Ballad of El Goodo,” Big Star. A great song, one so positive and spiritual, even the Angel of Death would put down the sickle and hold his lighter up.
So there you have it. If you’re celebrating Easter, have a happy one. If you’re not, I hope you at least get to enjoy some chocolate.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Holy Thursday
It is the holiest day of the year...the start of the NCAA Basketball Tournament. I have been distracted from posting because, as usual, I am poring over basketball stats in the hope of making a bracket that doesn't suck. I will also be using my combined powers of wireless Internet and working at home to attach my office to the couch today and tomorrow. For the record, I have North Carolina, Wisconsin, Memphis, and UConn in the Final Four. Upset special is Davidson over Georgetown in round two, and Marquette getting to the Elite Eight. My bracket should be ruined by 4:15 Eastern today.
The comedy elves are at work on new jerking, but until then, there are a couple Obama-related items that cracked me up:
The Onion: Black Guy Asks Nation for Change
Chappelle's Show: Black Bush (which seems funny after the Obama/Wright kerfluffle this week) Note: uncensored and not work safe.
One last note: I saw the curb out in front of my house for the first time since late November. Spring is in the air!
The comedy elves are at work on new jerking, but until then, there are a couple Obama-related items that cracked me up:
The Onion: Black Guy Asks Nation for Change
Chappelle's Show: Black Bush (which seems funny after the Obama/Wright kerfluffle this week) Note: uncensored and not work safe.
One last note: I saw the curb out in front of my house for the first time since late November. Spring is in the air!
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Top Ten Tuesdays: What could we do with a $50 million dollar divorce settlement?
10) Buy rights to "Hey Jude" and change chorus the chorus to cha...cha...cha...cha-cha-cha-ching.
9) Bribe the Sun to come a million miles closer and make winter finally go away.
8) Have The Rolling Stones killed.
7) Quit day job to focus on lifelong dream: beating Rock Band on the Expert level.*
6) Pay for new Florida Democratic primary on the condition that we get to hunt the loser at Disney World’s Discovery Island.
5) Poll 25 points higher than Mitt Romney did.
4) Throw birthday party for Allan Greenspan and only to have a naked Paul Krugman jump out of the cake.
3) Turn Kansas into a giant plasma TV that we can watch from our orbiting space mansion.
2) Lose $25 million of it in our next divorce from Pete Best.
1) Buy Ringo.
*Embarrassing Brando nugget here, courtesy of TLB.
9) Bribe the Sun to come a million miles closer and make winter finally go away.
8) Have The Rolling Stones killed.
7) Quit day job to focus on lifelong dream: beating Rock Band on the Expert level.*
6) Pay for new Florida Democratic primary on the condition that we get to hunt the loser at Disney World’s Discovery Island.
5) Poll 25 points higher than Mitt Romney did.
4) Throw birthday party for Allan Greenspan and only to have a naked Paul Krugman jump out of the cake.
3) Turn Kansas into a giant plasma TV that we can watch from our orbiting space mansion.
2) Lose $25 million of it in our next divorce from Pete Best.
1) Buy Ringo.
*Embarrassing Brando nugget here, courtesy of TLB.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Friday CJ Random 11
It’s one more random than 10!
I saw the illustrious Dr. Laura spraying her wisdom on the airwaves this week. On the Today show, she said that Eliot Spitzer’s wife was partly responsible for his trust busting, saying that when a wife doesn’t make her husband “feel like a man, make him feel like a success, make him feel like her hero,” he’s going to do things like form a presidential exploratory committee and probe the youth vote.
It’s pretty difficult to top the stupidity of paying for sex when you’re the governor of the second-largest state in America, but God bless Dr. Laura for again making the improbably stupid look like routine idiocy. That’s the sign of the great ones. To put her comments in a musical context for today, I suspect Dr. Laura would blame:
1) “Take It Back,” Cream. I’m guessing Spitzer wishes he could take it back, take that thing right out of here now.
2) “Moondance,” Van Morrison. Would a Moondance with Van Morrison cost $5500? And would it have a happy ending?
3) “Soft Revolution,” Stars. This one doesn’t relate so much, but one could say there was nothing soft about Eliot Spitzer’s revolution. He may be the best example of the harder they come, the harder they fall. Commercial note: Stars Set Yourself on Fire is an incredible album.
4) “All Apologies,” Nirvana. How exactly does one apologize to one’s wife for this? Confessing an affair is bad enough, but saying you blew 80 grand on hookers? Is there a Hallmark card for that? The bad news is I’ve been paying for sex / the good news is the STD test came back negative. And am I the only one who wished that, after the governor finished his apology with his wife at his side, she had kneed him in the spitzers?
BTW, this clip from The Daily Show just killed me this week. The “as a friend” line had me in tears.
5) “Breaking Us in Two,” Joe Jackson. This is the music when you go to the bar to drown your sorrows, where Joe Jackson would be sitting next to you and singing like Jonathan Richman in There’s Something About Mary.
6) “A World of Hurt,” Drive-By Truckers. This is the music you listen to when you’re sitting in your empty governor’s mansion, finishing that bitter fifth of Jack, getting ready to move into your bachelor pad with Dick Morris and praying he can get you a guest commenting spot on Fox News.
7) “If I Ever Lose My Faith in You,” Sting. I will never lose my faith that the comeuppance of santimonious bleaters is great for comedy. Colbert and The Daily Show have been on fire with this all week. It's like post-writer's strike manna from heaven.
8) “There. There. (The Boney King of Nowhere.),” Radiohead. I think “The Boner King of Nowhere” should be Spitzer’s new title. I like that as much as Jon Stewart calling him the Mayor of Schmucktown.
9) “The Last Time,” The Rolling Stones. I imagine this is the last time for the Spitzers. That’s going to be an ugly, lopsided divorce proceeding. It will be the legal equivalent of the United States invading Grenada.
10) “Fat Bottomed Girls,” Queen. Which is the greater irony: a political crusader getting hung on the anti-prostitution laws he helped write, or the most flamboyantly gay man in classic rock history singing about having sex with ample women? This really cries out for a Spitzer montage. It’s also one of those songs that makes me happy to work at home -- I can go to 11 without fear of HR reprisals. Warning: shirtless Freddie Mercury alert in the video.
11) “Love Song,” Tesla. I’ll go out on a hopeful note. Love will probably find a way. It usually does. Of course, given that campaign funds may have been used to purchase sex, that love may be found inside prison walls. But if you like it dirty, prison’s the place to be. See, these things always work out. Warning: excessive bang alert in the video.
Have a good weekend, and as Tom Hanks said in A League of Their Own, avoid the clap. That’s good advice.
I saw the illustrious Dr. Laura spraying her wisdom on the airwaves this week. On the Today show, she said that Eliot Spitzer’s wife was partly responsible for his trust busting, saying that when a wife doesn’t make her husband “feel like a man, make him feel like a success, make him feel like her hero,” he’s going to do things like form a presidential exploratory committee and probe the youth vote.
It’s pretty difficult to top the stupidity of paying for sex when you’re the governor of the second-largest state in America, but God bless Dr. Laura for again making the improbably stupid look like routine idiocy. That’s the sign of the great ones. To put her comments in a musical context for today, I suspect Dr. Laura would blame:
- Yoko Ono’s voice for not being shrill enough to disintegrate Mark David Chapman’s bullets with one atonal shriek
- Jimi Hendrix’s esophagus for not being wide enough to expel the vomit he choked to death on.
- The shirts of Right Said Fred for not being strong enough to resist the high levels of sexiness and stay on their men.
1) “Take It Back,” Cream. I’m guessing Spitzer wishes he could take it back, take that thing right out of here now.
2) “Moondance,” Van Morrison. Would a Moondance with Van Morrison cost $5500? And would it have a happy ending?
3) “Soft Revolution,” Stars. This one doesn’t relate so much, but one could say there was nothing soft about Eliot Spitzer’s revolution. He may be the best example of the harder they come, the harder they fall. Commercial note: Stars Set Yourself on Fire is an incredible album.
4) “All Apologies,” Nirvana. How exactly does one apologize to one’s wife for this? Confessing an affair is bad enough, but saying you blew 80 grand on hookers? Is there a Hallmark card for that? The bad news is I’ve been paying for sex / the good news is the STD test came back negative. And am I the only one who wished that, after the governor finished his apology with his wife at his side, she had kneed him in the spitzers?
BTW, this clip from The Daily Show just killed me this week. The “as a friend” line had me in tears.
5) “Breaking Us in Two,” Joe Jackson. This is the music when you go to the bar to drown your sorrows, where Joe Jackson would be sitting next to you and singing like Jonathan Richman in There’s Something About Mary.
6) “A World of Hurt,” Drive-By Truckers. This is the music you listen to when you’re sitting in your empty governor’s mansion, finishing that bitter fifth of Jack, getting ready to move into your bachelor pad with Dick Morris and praying he can get you a guest commenting spot on Fox News.
7) “If I Ever Lose My Faith in You,” Sting. I will never lose my faith that the comeuppance of santimonious bleaters is great for comedy. Colbert and The Daily Show have been on fire with this all week. It's like post-writer's strike manna from heaven.
8) “There. There. (The Boney King of Nowhere.),” Radiohead. I think “The Boner King of Nowhere” should be Spitzer’s new title. I like that as much as Jon Stewart calling him the Mayor of Schmucktown.
9) “The Last Time,” The Rolling Stones. I imagine this is the last time for the Spitzers. That’s going to be an ugly, lopsided divorce proceeding. It will be the legal equivalent of the United States invading Grenada.
10) “Fat Bottomed Girls,” Queen. Which is the greater irony: a political crusader getting hung on the anti-prostitution laws he helped write, or the most flamboyantly gay man in classic rock history singing about having sex with ample women? This really cries out for a Spitzer montage. It’s also one of those songs that makes me happy to work at home -- I can go to 11 without fear of HR reprisals. Warning: shirtless Freddie Mercury alert in the video.
11) “Love Song,” Tesla. I’ll go out on a hopeful note. Love will probably find a way. It usually does. Of course, given that campaign funds may have been used to purchase sex, that love may be found inside prison walls. But if you like it dirty, prison’s the place to be. See, these things always work out. Warning: excessive bang alert in the video.
Have a good weekend, and as Tom Hanks said in A League of Their Own, avoid the clap. That’s good advice.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Friday, March 07, 2008
Friday CJ Random 11
It's one more random than 10!
I have to begin with a hearty thank you to author Neil Gaiman for linking to me in one of his journal posts. I’d be lying if I said that didn’t make my week. And I extend a laurel and hearty handshake to all the new visitors who came by this week. Hope you enjoy the blog, and I apologize for the beer cans everywhere. My housekeeper left for reasons I can't legally disclose.
Let’s get rocked.
1) “Let It Dive,” ...And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead. I feel ridiculous every time I type their name in the Random 11. Possibly the worst band name of all time. However, a good, soaring track from their uneven World’s End album, and a pretty hypnotic YouTube video.
2) “Just Another Whistle Stop,” The Band. A great song for Bossy’s Road Trip. If you haven’t read about her planned 10,000 mile journey, go read about it. It will be the coolest thing any blogger does this year, and she will undoubtedly deliver sidesplitting posts about her journey.
3) “Staring Down the Gift Horse,” New Bomb Turks. I was at Culver’s last night, getting a salad. Yes, you read that correctly. I decided to go back on the South Beach Diet and jumpstart my weight loss, and Culver’s make a mean Chicken Cashew Salad. Anyway, as I waited in the drive through, I saw this kid wearing a jean jacket that had all kinds of studs in it, with a small Rancid patch on the side. That didn’t surprise me much, but when he turned his back to me, he had a huge Bad Brains patch on the back. It made me smile to see someone who looks like he wasn’t ready to shave yet getting his old-school punk on. This song reminded me of that, because New Bomb Turks Scared Straight is the best punk album I’ve heard since Green Day made punk chic again. I hope Bad Brains, Jr. has it in his collection.
4) “Photograph,” Def Leppard. True story: I blew out a pair of new speakers in a car while driving away from the installation place by cranking this song. Also true and much sadder story: they are going to play on Dancing With the Stars on April 29. Uh, rise up, boogie down, determine your final scores, write ‘em down? Not quite the same, is it? They are also touring with Styx and REO Speedwagon. I hate myself for wanting to go to that show.
5) “Moonlapse Vertigo,” Opeth. Scandinavian death metal is perfect for today, because the temperature is only going to go to 11. The Cookie Monster vocals also capture how my aching throat has felt all week. I would have really dug this when I was chasing demons across the Outer Planes with my magic-user and his crystal ball that said “Bad Motherfucker.”
6) “This River Is Wild,” The Killers. John Hughes would have included these guys in every one of his movies.
7) “English Civil War,” The Clash. A great song that would have been even better if they replaced “Hoo-rah” with “Huz-zah!” Huzzah needs to make a comeback.
8) “Physical (You’re So),” Nine Inch Nails. I have made fun of teh Reznor, but this is a hell of a cover of an Adam and the Ants song. Dare I say he squashes the ant version? The video here is like Tiger Goth Beat.
9) “Dear John,” Aimee Mann. Truly the queen of the three-minute pop song. She has so many incredible songs like this, and yet no real hits outside of “Voices Carry.” That’s why the music industry sucks. Funny audience video here where Aimee forgets her lyrics.
10) “Lose Control,” Ash. Starts with a sample of a Tie Fighter noise and then unleashes a fully-operational guitar assault. This would be a fantastic Guitar Hero or Rock Band song.
11) “Rough Boys,” Pete Townshend. You know how the conservative knobs over at the National Review tried to coopt some great rock songs and give them conservative meanings? I think this would be perfect for a montage of Republican senators caught in sex scandals. Gonna get inside you indeed. My favorite Townshend solo song and one of his best compositions. If only Keith had lived long enough to play the drums and star in the video.
Have a great weekend.
I have to begin with a hearty thank you to author Neil Gaiman for linking to me in one of his journal posts. I’d be lying if I said that didn’t make my week. And I extend a laurel and hearty handshake to all the new visitors who came by this week. Hope you enjoy the blog, and I apologize for the beer cans everywhere. My housekeeper left for reasons I can't legally disclose.
Let’s get rocked.
1) “Let It Dive,” ...And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead. I feel ridiculous every time I type their name in the Random 11. Possibly the worst band name of all time. However, a good, soaring track from their uneven World’s End album, and a pretty hypnotic YouTube video.
2) “Just Another Whistle Stop,” The Band. A great song for Bossy’s Road Trip. If you haven’t read about her planned 10,000 mile journey, go read about it. It will be the coolest thing any blogger does this year, and she will undoubtedly deliver sidesplitting posts about her journey.
3) “Staring Down the Gift Horse,” New Bomb Turks. I was at Culver’s last night, getting a salad. Yes, you read that correctly. I decided to go back on the South Beach Diet and jumpstart my weight loss, and Culver’s make a mean Chicken Cashew Salad. Anyway, as I waited in the drive through, I saw this kid wearing a jean jacket that had all kinds of studs in it, with a small Rancid patch on the side. That didn’t surprise me much, but when he turned his back to me, he had a huge Bad Brains patch on the back. It made me smile to see someone who looks like he wasn’t ready to shave yet getting his old-school punk on. This song reminded me of that, because New Bomb Turks Scared Straight is the best punk album I’ve heard since Green Day made punk chic again. I hope Bad Brains, Jr. has it in his collection.
4) “Photograph,” Def Leppard. True story: I blew out a pair of new speakers in a car while driving away from the installation place by cranking this song. Also true and much sadder story: they are going to play on Dancing With the Stars on April 29. Uh, rise up, boogie down, determine your final scores, write ‘em down? Not quite the same, is it? They are also touring with Styx and REO Speedwagon. I hate myself for wanting to go to that show.
5) “Moonlapse Vertigo,” Opeth. Scandinavian death metal is perfect for today, because the temperature is only going to go to 11. The Cookie Monster vocals also capture how my aching throat has felt all week. I would have really dug this when I was chasing demons across the Outer Planes with my magic-user and his crystal ball that said “Bad Motherfucker.”
6) “This River Is Wild,” The Killers. John Hughes would have included these guys in every one of his movies.
7) “English Civil War,” The Clash. A great song that would have been even better if they replaced “Hoo-rah” with “Huz-zah!” Huzzah needs to make a comeback.
8) “Physical (You’re So),” Nine Inch Nails. I have made fun of teh Reznor, but this is a hell of a cover of an Adam and the Ants song. Dare I say he squashes the ant version? The video here is like Tiger Goth Beat.
9) “Dear John,” Aimee Mann. Truly the queen of the three-minute pop song. She has so many incredible songs like this, and yet no real hits outside of “Voices Carry.” That’s why the music industry sucks. Funny audience video here where Aimee forgets her lyrics.
10) “Lose Control,” Ash. Starts with a sample of a Tie Fighter noise and then unleashes a fully-operational guitar assault. This would be a fantastic Guitar Hero or Rock Band song.
11) “Rough Boys,” Pete Townshend. You know how the conservative knobs over at the National Review tried to coopt some great rock songs and give them conservative meanings? I think this would be perfect for a montage of Republican senators caught in sex scandals. Gonna get inside you indeed. My favorite Townshend solo song and one of his best compositions. If only Keith had lived long enough to play the drums and star in the video.
Have a great weekend.
Thursday, March 06, 2008
The Day the d20 Died
Gary Gygax, creator of Dungeons and Dragons, died this week. Chuckles and many others have posted about Gygax and the impact of his game on their lives. Reading all those tributes got me thinking about my D&D days, the time between the ages 11 and 15 where I immersed myself in the universe Gygax created. So I decided to dig out the Dork Box.
The Dork Box has my dork stuff in it. My undergraduate history thesis, academic plaques and honor society certificates, and weird books like The Book of the Subgenius and Drew Friedman comic collections. Mostly it's a shine to D&D. The Dork Box houses all my old D&D books, kept safe like the pieces of the Ten Commandments. There’s also a container with my lead figures. And then there’s The Binder.
Nearly falling apart, The Binder has my characters, my adventures, monsters, deities, maps, and more stuff I spent hour after obsessive hour creating, holed up in my room listening to prog rock while drawing on graph paper and thinking of names that sounded like bad Tolkien rip offs. Like a lot of D&D players, I created a lot of characters, but one stood out among them (click to see it in larger 1982 glory):
The Dork Box has my dork stuff in it. My undergraduate history thesis, academic plaques and honor society certificates, and weird books like The Book of the Subgenius and Drew Friedman comic collections. Mostly it's a shine to D&D. The Dork Box houses all my old D&D books, kept safe like the pieces of the Ten Commandments. There’s also a container with my lead figures. And then there’s The Binder.
Nearly falling apart, The Binder has my characters, my adventures, monsters, deities, maps, and more stuff I spent hour after obsessive hour creating, holed up in my room listening to prog rock while drawing on graph paper and thinking of names that sounded like bad Tolkien rip offs. Like a lot of D&D players, I created a lot of characters, but one stood out among them (click to see it in larger 1982 glory):
That’s Talcomest the Silver Sorcerer. He fought enemies by spraying them with a dry powder that sucked all the moisture out of them and got all over their armor. Okay, maybe not. I played him throughout most of my D&D career. He had a crystal ball that doubled as a telekinetic whoop ass machine, a sphere he could launch at enemies like a wrecking ball. Talcomest fought, at various stages of his career, a scarecrow in an Oz-based adventure who could fire pieces of straw that could pierce plate mail; fanatic minions of the evil Egyptian god Set; and, in a series of adventures that lasted two years, a chaotic demon named Tadwaeld who Talcomest chased to Limbo and back.
When I wasn’t playing, I made my own adventures. Most of the time I didn’t ever get to use them, because my friend Tom almost always was the Dungeon Master. But I loved getting out the graph paper and writing the back stories, the villains, the traps, and the monsters that would await adventurers. This is “Quest for the Dragonstar.” I was probably twelve or thirteen when I wrote this:
Centuries ago, a powerful Dragonlord named Correllia created a magical amulet with power bestowed to her by Tiamat [the big seven-headed dragon god, for those of you who haven’t memorized the Monster Manual and/or Babylonian mythology]. The amulet was called the Dragonstar. With it, Correllia rose to power. She raised an army of goblins and bugbears [goblins on Goblin Growth Hormone] and xvarts [don’t ask]....She captured Sterken, the capital of Mordain, and marched toward Esberniam [you can’t having epic adventures without geography]. However, Elvish, Human, and Dwarvish armies called from Moria [Tolkien lawsuit] pounced on and slaughtered her army in Eskar. However, Correllia and the Dragonstar escaped.A fantasy novelist prodigy I was not, although that passage makes more sense than the Conan movies. It also illustrates why Tom was the DM.
Just like you need geography to have epic adventures, you need graph paper to make a dungeon (click to see every pencil stroke):
Note the pentagram in the one room. Why a pentagram? Because pentagrams are tits when you’re twelve.
So why did my love for D&D come to a grinding halt? A very simple explanation: I saw adult role-playing gamers for the first time.
The summer after freshman year of high school, Tom and I went to a gaming convention. We were excited about having a chance to show off our cunning and ingenuity against other D&D players. I’m not sure what I expected to encounter, but I suppose I figured the other players would be like us: dorky but not overtly nerdy kids.
Instead, we walked straight into a convention of Comic Book Guys. Grown men in convention T-shirts and navy slacks and generic sneakers, arguing about rules, showing off lead figures, and clearly putting more obsessive effort into this hobby than we ever had. It was like walking in on your parents dropping Ecstasy and going to a rave.
Taking our place our tournament table, we watched as our Dungeon Master lumbered toward our table. He had the round physique of an ogre, and he carried a bucket of dice. Hundreds of dice. Hordes of the colorful gem D&D dice, legions of the cheap plastic kind that came with the Box Set, and a multitude of traditional dice from board games.
“That,” Tom whispered, “is a lot of dice.”
The dice epitomized what we were thinking about the convention in general. There was no reason for someone to own that many dice, except to show off how many dice they owned. The obsessive need to purchase that many dice, and find a sealed container big enough to carry them, and own a stack of DM paraphernalia, and argue over obscure rules at the back of the Dungeon Master's Guide, all of it made me think of one thing: if I continue on this path, I will die a virgin.
I now realize how stupid that is. But at the time, my desire to explore hidden realms was being surpassed by...a desire to explore a different kind of hidden realms, ones that gave you a much more valuable set of experience points. Watching unfiltered, uncensored D&D fandom made me realize how unattractive it could be. After all, there was nary a woman in sight.
After that convention, Tom and I quit D&D.
I missed it almost immediately. But by this time, I had moved to the other side of the country, and my new high school friends didn’t play D&D. I remained D&D free until I got to college. My dorm mates and I got on the subject one drunken night, and it turned out all of us had played and given up the game for mostly the same reason: it seemed too dorky to get us laid. By this time, I had guaranteed I would not die a virgin. In fact, all of us were no longer virgins. Why not start playing again? The other guys agreed, and during winter break, we grabbed all our shit out of our Dork Boxes and brought it back to campus.
I got to DM this time, and while on break, I wrote a new adventure, The Grey Tower. It involved the party traveling to an abandoned keep to search for an elixir of youth. I devised riddles and created traps and pored over the books for monsters to use. When we returned, we gathered in our dorm rooms and played the adventure over several nights. It was a blast, and before the adventure ended, we already talked about our next one, and how we would rotate being the Dungeon Master.
The last night, nearing the explosive, undead-strewn end of The Grey Tower, a couple of our female friends stopped by our room. They knew we were playing D&D, but hadn’t actually seen it happening. They proceeded to unleash a Prismatic Sphere of Mocking, and we all failed our saving throws. I felt the embarassment of the convention returning. Somehow, they got hold of The Binder before they left. When I got to the last page my carefully scripted adventure, I saw this scribbled across the top:
Jesus Christ, Brando! Where’s your cape? In the wash?
And with that, my D&D career officially ran out of hit points.
Rest in peace, Gary Gygax. You made an awesome game, even if the girls made fun of us for playing it.
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
Top Ten Tuesdays: How did we make ourselves sick?*
10) Licked the wrong kind of frog.
9) Kept checking WebMD every five minutes for symptoms of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.
8) Started looking at a copy of Glamour magazine when no one was around and yadda yadda yadda blindness.
7) Saw our home appraisal go down faster than a Republican Congressmen at a rest stop.
6) Sucked out all the cheese in the stuffed crust pizza without using protection.
5) Found out that George W. Bush had the ability to do good all along.
4) Gave corpse of Bill Buckley prolonged tongue baths.
3) Destabilized liver with malt-based Al-Cohol insurgency.
2) Played bobbing for petri dishes.
1) Contracted Hypocritus P from handling raw political sewage.
*Written from CJSD deathbed because The Lovely Becky is not here to keep me from thinking a sore throat and cold is really Ebola/acting like a big sick baby.
9) Kept checking WebMD every five minutes for symptoms of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.
8) Started looking at a copy of Glamour magazine when no one was around and yadda yadda yadda blindness.
7) Saw our home appraisal go down faster than a Republican Congressmen at a rest stop.
6) Sucked out all the cheese in the stuffed crust pizza without using protection.
5) Found out that George W. Bush had the ability to do good all along.
4) Gave corpse of Bill Buckley prolonged tongue baths.
3) Destabilized liver with malt-based Al-Cohol insurgency.
2) Played bobbing for petri dishes.
1) Contracted Hypocritus P from handling raw political sewage.
*Written from CJSD deathbed because The Lovely Becky is not here to keep me from thinking a sore throat and cold is really Ebola/acting like a big sick baby.
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