Wednesday, September 28, 2005

I have sleep issues


Maxell Smart has left us for that big Cone of Silence
in the sky. Grew up on reruns of this show, man.
Rest in peace.

Right now, it's nearly four in the morning and I'm still waiting around the Collegian office for my final edits. I would've been out of here earlier, but one of my articles fell through so much of my editing time was devoted to writing up a piece on the fly. Shit sucks.

That was last night. Still sucked though.


Pumpkinhead review up on Okayplayer. Album was mediocre.

Apparently 53% of journalists use blogs as sources. One quote I found interesting:

“As blogs continue to gain in popularity, quality and influence, it is becoming imperative that journalists and journalism students continue to integrate blogs, especially blogs that cover technology, into their reporting practices,” said Steven S. Ross, associate professor at Columbia University and a partner in the study. “A number of credible and influential Weblogs – such as Scobleizer, Gizmodo, and Boing Boing – provide an invaluable trove of research, story ideas, and other information that current and future journalists would be remiss not to leverage in their reporting.”

I think it's a bit of an overstatement that say that blog reference in journalism is "becoming imperative." While the motivations they state are valid (gauging public opinion, story ideas, etc.), I think people are jumping on the Blog Generation's dick a little too hard. It's true that the advent of the "blogosphere" or whatever you want to call it has revolutionized what people read online and influenced how people think about relevant topics, but I feel like the massive hype these shits receive is a bit exaggerated. Just a blog, dude. I realize that my blog is completely inconsequential to the world, but still. Also, if anyone is a journalist and is working on a story about frivolous, unimportant information that no one reads, feel free to use Trapper Juan as a "source."

Lord Jesse of Jenkintown sent me this
nutsy shit. I'm an especially big fan of the elephant, although the site got me wondering whether or not these people have jobs or familial responsiblities. I'm guessing no, since painting hands to look like animals probably takes a lot of effort and probably leaves very little time for social interaction or doing it.

Two of my roommates recently started blogs- Drew with
Plastic Coffee Cups and Lou with New Word Order. Names can get confusing after awhile. This probably means that we're now a "blogging household," which is probably the worst shit I've ever fathomed. Anyways, I know Drew isn't reading this because he has some gripe about never reading anyone else's work, even though I somehow find the time to read his confusing ramblings on public transportation seating arrangements. Since that' s the case, I'd like to mention that Drew's mother is a whore. Lou's a bit more supportive of the complete waste of bandwidth that is my blog, so thanks man. No word yet if my other roommate Taylor is starting a blog, but if he does, I'm fairly certain the Eastern Seaboard will implode and we will all be forced to resort back to conventional human communication like flirting chatting.

I had a good name idea for Lou's blog (
Wade Blogs) but shit was already taken. Shit hasn't even been updated in over a year either. So frustrating!

Last night, I tried in vain to convince my editors that using the phrase "his pimp hand is strong" as the caption for this picture of
Dennis Prager is not offensive, as the term "pimp" has been introduced into mainstream vernacular and no longer carries a hos down, Don Magic Juan connotation. For example, last year Nelly started a scholarship fund entitled P.I.M.P., a witty motherfucking acronym for Positive Motivated Intellectual Person. Needless to say, they shot my shit down like Wedge Antilles' X-Wing. I replaced it with the less derisive but less dope "this dude's game is on point." I'm thinking of calling Prager up and asking him which caption he would've preferred. Probably that pimp hand, black.

My buddy Matt recently landed an internship at the Philly DA's office. Congratulations man. The weird shit is, when his background check came back, it turned up an arrest charge for a 35-year-old black man on his record. Anyone that knows Matt knows that not only is he 20, he's also definitely
not black.

Got an e-mail from a focus group website that I signed up for awhile back asking me to participate in a 90-minute phone interview about online travel websites. I didn't apply because I've never used said sites; furthermore, the compensation was a $50 gift card to amazon.com, which is a little wack. I need cold cash, bitches! Need food!


Oliver Wang posts on the interview controversy concerning him and Byron Crawford.

I've seen the random Vin Diesel fact generator, which is alright, but the
Chuck Norris version takes cakes. The best one I've come across so far (mostly because it involves MacGyver):

After reading the Letters to the Editor in his local newspaper, Chuck Norris became enraged that Richard Dean Anderson was considered sexier by women 65 and older. To increase his sex appeal to older women, Chuck Norris tried to build a Missle Defense System out of a tube of chapstick, six rubber bands, a spork from KFC and a copy of Sports by Huey Lewis and the News. This soon became the prototype for the Total Body Gym Workout Machine.

I'm considering doing an article for next week about the bizarre world of Facebook and all the weird problems it leads to for college students (problems, of course, that are they are responsible for 100% of the time). How does anyone think that broadcasting their desire to eff a professor or their love of "festive greens" on such a huge social network is a good idea? Faculty and staff are all over that shit. Discretion's a good thing.

My cousin Connie made this social justice documentary. I just downloaded it but haven't watched it yet. If it's good, I'l talk to her about linking it up. If it sucks, I'll probably link it with a title that reads "this social justice documentary blows dick." No, I wouldn't do that to the ol' flesh-and-blood. Probably just "this social justice documentary blows."

Saturday, September 24, 2005

Rileynited and it feels so hood


Riley is obviously pleased as punch to see me...


...and he's happy to see Cleo too. HADOKEN!

I haven't really had any motivation to post anything lately because I was pretty depressed about the mysterious disappearance of Riley the cat. He had been missing since the 14th and despite my best efforts I couldn't find the bastard. I put up posters, talked to all my neighbors and even developed a harebrained conspiracy theory more unrealistic than the Guy Fawkes plot. Luckily, the black knight hath returned, and I feel wonderful. I have a lot of things to say about this particularly stressful 10-day period of my life, things that are probably best expressed in ITEMIZED LIST FORM:

- Honestly, I was starting to lose hope last night. I got Lager intoxicated (a strange, I'm-not-drunk-wait-now-that-I-think-about-it-I'm-wasted feeling) and began planning my period of mourning, which would involve me wearing all black to signify the color of Riley's fur and consuming only Nine Lives brand wet food to signify Riley's culinary proclivities. Lou found him earlier this morning sitting in the bushes outside our house, wimpy-meowing like the sheltered biatch he be. I am eternally grateful for the reacquisition for the following reasons: 1. I love Riley; 2. I don't have any black clothing other than a polo and a t-shirt from my high school's production of
Clue: The Musical (I played Mr. Green); 3. I don't think liver and bacon go well together.

- Weird coincidence clairvoyance: For two nights in a row, Michelle had a dream that Riley was found under a bush. Whoa mind power abilities. Michelle is currently in talks for a one-hour supernatural drama on the WB titled ESPsky: The Psychic Polock.

- The always-insightful Faz suggested that Riley was probably not going to return based on his status as a "free spirit." I thought about it and found myself totally agreeing; considering the limited freedoms of the feline lifestyle, I'm not surprised that Riley rebelled and went to sow his wild oats. He got over it though, just as I got over my adolescent angst, my propensity towards wearing Nautica and my obsession with Nine Inch Nails. Beautiful.


- To anyone unfairly targeted or unwillfully employed by my ridiculous conspiracy theory: my bad. I'm a sketchball huh?


- What the hell was Riley doing for 10 days, anyway? He looks skinny as shit so he was probably not eating all that much. Maybe he was trash can scavenging whilst making witty commentary like the raccoons in
The Great Outdoors. Who knows? I bet he dry-humped a lot of girl cats too.

- To all the stupid assholes who ripped down my "Missing Cat" posters for no reason: I pity you. I know that you were probably just trying to impress some sorority whores with your
off-the-cuff machismo, but just take a step back and look at yourself. You're tearing apart someone's MISSING CAT SIGN. You cannot sink any lower than that. This act of scumbaggery is even more depraved than taking someone else's delivery food or prefacing racist comments with the phrase "I have plenty of black friends." Fuckheads.

- Cake, the "humor" section of the
Collegian that other Drew does, might feature a photo retrospective of Riley's adventures this week. Proposed ideas include pictures of him windsurfing, performing open heart surgery, running with the bulls in Pamplona and possibly anthracite coal mining.

- A friend mentioned that he spoke to a certain evil ex-roommate of mine who somehow got the impression that I lost Riley on purpose. Then, the vile, ungodly succubus suggested that she wanted to "hit me with her car" as a punishment for my carelessness. I pray to Allah that she is reading this right now, because I wanted to clarify a few things. First, I didn't lose Riley on purpose; he inadvertantly got out. Second, you're a heinous bitch. Third, you're too terrible of a driver to hit me with your shitty-ass Volkswagen (also, you refuse to drive on highways because you're a retard). Fourth, your boyfriend looks like a douchebag. Fifth, fuck you. Sixth, I think it's sick and disturbing that you have a shrine to Riley in your apartment, because he was never your cat to begin with; you need to get some friends. Seventh, you're a heinous bitch. Okay, I'm repeating myself. Fuck you though, trick.
If it's immature to air out one's personal beefs online, I'm more childish than Romeo, Batman and LDB (Little Drummer Boy) combined. Also, I appeared in several House Party movies.

- On a less derisive note, Riley's probably got fleas now. Or maybe
chiggers.

Okay, I just spent an entire blog post talking about Riley; I've reached official psycho cat lady status. I'm going to go drink, listen to The Boss and try to convince myself that I'm masculine.


What a great day! I'm a lucky man.

Monday, September 19, 2005

Back on the block like I'm laying on the street


When I find this little fucker, I'm going to play
that "reuniteddd and it feels sooo goooddd"
song


Haven't felt too inspired to write here these past few days, most due to my cat missing. For some reason, the screen on our basement window got ripped and he got out sometime Wednesday. I've been putting up posters around the hood (most of which have been ripped down by cat haters and/or drunk DMB fans), asking around everywhere and checked the area animal shelter, but no dice. Shit's a drag. I keep getting reassured that he will just pop up one day because cats tend to do that, but I also have some suspicions about some other possible locations for him. Not really worth going into, but just know that you can't hustle a hustler. Some individuals might be getting a dragon uppercut in the near future, or maybe the super knockout blow like when you hit select in Punchout. Bitches. If you live near me and you see this cat, please let me know. He's a lot bigger than he was in this picture, but he's still a fairly small-bodied cat. Le sigh.

This list of the most unusual excuses people have given for getting out of work strikes me as more of a list of dumb shit the writer made up because she got a stupid assignment and kept putting it off. I was spit on by a venomous snake? Come on homey.

Where's Waldo? Fight Klub edition. Hint: he's not black and he's not Asian Jin.

Jay-Z's declaring war on as-yet-unnamed adversaries. Shit is funny to me; it's crazy that Jay is so big and so respected that he can generate crazy buzz just for saying he has beef with people he's not even going to name. That'd be like if people freaked out if I said I didn't like a certain record but I didn't even say what record it was (this, of course, assuming that people knew who I was and I was as big as Jay-Z, which I definitely am). Dude's real big. Anyway, there's speculation that he's going to go at Game, which I don't really care about, and Jim Jones, which I think is hilarious. Jay and Jim is some crazy savvy mogul vs. savvy mogul shit. Also, check this priceless excerpt from a Jim Jones interview in XXL. They're talking (the writer being kris ex...eee gads) about the pros and cons of major label deals versus Jones' album-by-album deal with Koch. Capo status! (another one from last year).

XXL: But the trade-off is, when you sign with the major, you get on TV. Now you can come with the Pepsi commercial.

JJ: That ain't no fuckin' trade-off. That shit don't come with signing with no muthafuckin' deal. Eveyrbody ain't got no sneaker deal. Everybody ain't got no clothing deal. Only the niggas that's popping off is the elite. All these niggas that's popping got sneaker deals and all type of dumb shit going on- which is good, 'cause corporate America need to make some of this money. Pretty soon we gonna be doing Tropicana commercials and all that, 'cause we drink orange juice, too. Kellogg's and all that, I'm about to go after all that. I need some of that money. We eat cereal, too, in the morning.

Can you even begin to envision an orange juice commercial featuring Jim Jones? Because the mere thought makes my brain hurt like I've been huffing Dust-Off.

Capo on how no one gave him any looks early in his career:

JJ: I asked a lot of niggas for a million dollars. Nobody thought I was worth it. So I just did the shit myself and I made more than what I asked for. Goddamned, the boy is a genius!

And on his A&R hustle over at Warner:

JJ: I'm with them niggas that do that other shit. I need to find out if I can get in with that elite group. 'Cause you niggas is popping shit and these niggas clearing 20 million a year and they don't rap worth a bit. And they allowed me to come get in the building with them. I'm at least on the same floor. There's a couple of doors I can't go in, but when them niggas go to the ice machine- guess what? They see me, they holla at me: "How you doing, young man?"

Get this man his own sitcom now now now. I'd watch that shit in a second.


University of Florida newspaper caught heat for using "the word" in an editorial cartoon depicting Kanye and Condi Rice. I'm sure many have seen it, but here's a cheeky revamp and two staff editorials (here and here) defending the cartoon. The first writer concedes that its usage in a campus-wide publication is probably not the best idea in the world, but brings up several solid points:

We are the opinion section of a newspaper. We comment on societal norms and politics by pushing the envelope. So to UF administrators: We're glad you have taken this opportunity to open up a discussion on the danger of the casual use of "nigga" in Gainesville and in the nation. It means we've done our job. Now run with the idea and actually take a stance. Rather than focusing on a depiction of society, why don't you actually go out and protest the real thing?

Writer also mentions that Kanye himself uses the word in his music, and he was invited to perform at U of F (weakening the administration's stance that the cartoon is perpetuating racism on campus). I don't know if this writer's argument is all the way there (using Wayne Brady as an example usually doesn't do much to legitimize anything you say or write). I agree with it to an extent, and I staunchly oppose censorship (especially in campus papers), but I think this writer just needs to understand that use of the word, in an editorial manner or not, evokes very strong and passionate feelings. They didn't just know they were going to experience a backlash, they wanted to experience a backlash. They're probably reveling in it right now, as a matter of fact. Gives them something to write about. Is the issue being blown out of proportion? Probably. Was there any doubt (in the staff's mind) that it was going to get blown out of proportion the second it hit stands? Absolutely not. The artist's name is all over the Internet now (albeit with some hateful commentary attached), but still. You journalists, you...we all know you're way savvier than you want us to think you are, so just come on and put it out there already.

On a lighter whiter note, my dude Erich was recently pictured in the Inquirer painting a house. I love the cute human interest caption; also, Erich is the dude because he's all artistic and gave me a wooden wall Riley to display in the house until the real one comes back. Also, this picture!

Dear Ravens: get it together, you turkeys! Or, just get a damn quarterback. Shit.

Thursday, September 15, 2005

Young Bel Air hard head all about the scrilla

Every time I come back home from work or class or whatever, someone has changed the desktop background on my computer. Today, it was this, which is amazing. Thank you. It's not always that pleasant though. Two years ago, my roommates somehow got obsessed with Adult Baby Diaper Lovers (AB/DLs), which are grown-ass sick-in-the-fucking-head people who get off by dressing in Pampers and having people nurture them. Roommates thought it was really funny; it WAS funny at first, then it seriously started freaking me out every time I thought of it. I would get really uncomfortable in class and start twitching, trying to get the bizarre images out of my head, but they just wouldn't leave. I still have night terrors about it to this day. To the objective classmate observer, I probably appeared insane, which most likely explains why I don't have any friends. All because of Adult Baby Diaper Lovers. Kibby, if you are reading this, screw you.

Sometimes, I try look at my MySpace profile objectively as if I wasn't me and decide whether or not I (as someone else) would think I seem like an interesting person. The answer is always a resounding fuck no. He likes the Baltimore Ravens? One of this kid's favorite movies is Dead Poet's Society? I've heard of all the authors he lists under "favorite books"? How juvenile. Drewgro, please.

Speaking of my fave NFL team, it's not really easy being a non-Eagles fan in Philadelphia. I try not to bring up my non-Eagles fan status too often, but when it does come up, I usually get called a fag, which is nice. I'm pretty much a casual football fan; I like to watch games and sometimes read articles/stats online, but I don't follow the sport to a crazy extent.

Good example of liking football too much: before the kickoff of a game last year, I was walking outside my house and noticed two large groups of dudes (not just dudes, but DUDES) congregating on the porches of two houses with about six houses between them. They were screaming all sorts of incoherent shit to each other; at first, I dismissed it as drunken shit-talking, but then I took a closer listen and realized these guys were verbally blowing each other, each group telling the other how awesome they were for liking the Eagles (this is equivalent to two Hasidic Jews chest-bumping each other because they all of a sudden realized they both heart Moses or something). The man-stroking continued until members of each group started piling back into the door, and one dude yelled "Alright bros, I'll see yous at the first touchdown!" I guess they were planning on dogpiling it once TO scored, and then later having a Nati Light-fueled orgy. Herbs.

Blog has a shit ton of music all the time.

I interviewed LaSara FireFox earlier today. I love this lady. She was funny, insightful and brutally, brutally honest. She said "vulva" a bunch of times during the course of our conversation, which is not a bad thing. It's new for me. If you want to borrow Sexy Witch, be my guest. A friend of mine was reading excerpts from it aloud the other day and it's ruefully delicious (an adjective that LaSara likes to use when describing pretty much anything, which is awesome). Kudos to you, LF. Also, I like that your last name is also the dope web browser.

Most bizarre pairing of people ever. Didn't know Mr. Soul Glow was a Kanye fan.

Early this summer, I was approached about appearing on a mailing card for my school's Advancement Department (which incidentally also employs me). I said yes, naturally, because they've always been great to me and I didn't think it would be too big of a deal. Then I finally saw the card. Jesus. Please, look at it and have a hearty chuckle at my expense. Aside from looking like a total douche in the picture, the most embarassing part are my insane quotes at the bottom. A lot of people have been asking me if I actually wrote them. The answer is yes, but I didn't come up with such eloquent PR language on my own. The questionnaire I filled out was specifically tailored to create my disturbing rhetoric (i.e. "How GREAT is La Salle? Feel free to be honest!"). Sigh...if you happen to be an Explorer alum, expect my half-smiling half-Asian mug in your mailbox sometime soon. Also, the homey Denise told me that the former commentary editors of the Collegian were very disappointed in me for "selling out" or something. Sorry guys, honestly. I recently erected an H.L. Mencken shrine in the newspaper office to constantly remind myself not to violate any more codes of journalistic ethics.

Dear Barbara Bush: you are retarded. Sincerely, the world.

Joe Pelone pointed out something extremely bizarre about my last post. I linked a profile of an old-ass Western called The Son-of-a-Gun. If you scroll down, you reach a "Recommendations" heading that lists other movies you might like if you enjoy this one. Most of the movies are other Westerns, except for the very first (and most recommended) one. WHAT? My brain just short circuited. I'm not really sure how Rocky, Colt and Tum-Tum cinematically relate to a Western filmed in 1919, but I guess IMDB doesn't lie. Freaking weird.

Everybody's cheesing about new album from Cage (even Bol who, as we know, hates everything, including you and me). I like the dude, not as much as I like a dude like Aesop but I still think he's nuts. He's recently abandoned any type of hood look too which is a little interesting. Kinda looks like Jared Leto there. Shudder.

Go read my dude Adam's disturbingly exhaustive recount of his recent haircut. Beautiful, Travolta.

WHY? coming to town October 4 with US Funk Team and The Teeth (who and who? I think UFT is from Philly...). I'll definitely be there. Love this band, love the album. It's like folksy hip-hop They Might Be Giants or something. I know that doesn't make any sense, but it's easier to get when you listen to it (Anticon site calls it "jangly psych-rock, folk-hop and peculiar pop"). I like it more and more every time I listen to it, and I don't really even enjoy most Anticon artists. Check "The Hoofs" and "Sanddollars," definitely the best song off the album. If those links don't work, try doing it here and here.

Monday, September 12, 2005

I have no life

Friend of mine put me on to this University of MD opinion piece on Greek life. And here's a well-written rebuttal to the article, disregarding the writer's choice to accuse the original author of just being "jealous," which is a bit childish. Reminds me of when you used to see interviews with Hanson or N'Sync fans 12-year-old girls who swore up and down that anyone who didn't like their favorite boyband was merely green with kinda-gay envy. Anyway, I think the writer's opinion must be a bit cliched, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't agree with it. Despite all the responses from Greeks regarding their efforts in philanthropy, campus events and the like, the fact still remains that getting involved in a frat/sorority still reeks of questionable motives and psuedo-superiority. A number of Greeks I've personally interacted with match the stereotypes dissected in the article; however, just as many don't. As much as I love to hate on the shit, I can't deny that I know some great people involved with these organizations. I guess just hate the conceptual Greeks, archetypes with staying power mostly because they're often legitimized by people I meet at school.

Great example of what I should be doing with my time instead of school. Love ninjas.

The Internet is teeming with "owned" videos, but I'm thinking this is one of the craziest ones I've seen in awhile.

I just scrolled through all 54 pages of videos on that site instead of doing homework. Shit!

"Son of a gun" strikes me as a phrase that was probably really fucking dope when it first came out. Today, it's used mostly by your grandpa or your Sunday school teacher. If it didn't have its current social connotation, I think it would make a fucking sweet name for an action movie, specifically a Western Broncho Billy beat us to it (in 1919). Man, I thought I was insightful this whole time. Leave it to IMDB to take a big poo on your ego ridiculously stupid drunk thought.

In other wasting time news, Emil linked this game the other day. Thanks for dropping my productivity to -155%, man. Also, I'm terrible at this game. I think my high score is 17 seconds.

Are you in the market for poorly written, not-that-informative blurbs about area restaurants? You should read this column. It's not by me. Actually, it is by me. Sigh.

Mos Def's tribute song for New Orleans over the "Nolia Clap" beat. Like his flow on this a bit (dude wiles out at the end), but the whole "Katrina clap" chorus is kinda trite and annoying. Hm, is it wrong of me to be criticizing a song encouraging people to help the less fortunate? Nah, not really.

Interview with Murs about his latest movie effort. I got this DVD and the accompanying "soundtrack" from Okayplayer, but I haven't watched it yet. Murs isn't the best rapper I've ever heard, but I appreciate his humor. One time I went to see him down at the church and instead of opening his set with some "y'all feeling me? make some noise/put something in the air/fuckin' scream if you like so and so, and do this if you don't etc." shit, he was like "I hope you guys are enjoying this...because I'm definitely missing The OC right now," completely deadpan. I was like awww, Murs! I kinda like some of his back-and-forth shit with Slug too. What is with Slug recently, anyway? His haircut looks stupid.


So I finally saw the
40-Year-Old Virgin. Movie is great. Funny and crude as fuck, hilarious storyline and truly loveable protagonist and supporting characters. Paul Rudd kills it as usual. This won't ruin the movie, but the best part is definitely the musical interpretation of "The Age of Aquarius" at the end. Amazing. Go see it.

To my little sister and the one other person that reads this blog: lots of Collegian work this week. Hope to update the Trapper regularly, but who knows.

The only other thing that's new in my life is that I played chinese checkers for the first time in years last night. It was fucking great. I lost though. My life sucks.

Thursday, September 08, 2005

Sweep the leg


Inexplicably, Cobra Kai has been coming up a lot
lately in casual conversation. Put him in a bodybag
Johnny

I find that one of the most charming things about parents is their penchant to do completely unexpected things. For example, when I was at home this weekend, it was revealed that both my mom and dad have become huge fans of the series
Monk and have gone so far as to purchase three DVD box sets of it. Neither of them have ever mentioned any affinity towards Monk before; in fact, my dad usually hates most TV shows (with the exception of American Idol and shit about the Red Sox) and my mom isn't too big of a TV junkie either. I've personally watched Monk once or twice and I thought it was pretty funny, but I never dreamed it'd become a favorite of my dad, who loves stuff like the Christian Science Monitor and making sandwiches to eat on roadtrips. Not that these interests directly oppose Monk likeage, but you know what I mean. He lent me the pilot episode on DVD, and until I watch it, Antonio Scarpacci's new home is shoved snugly between Masters of the Flying Guillotine and Old School. I alphabetize things. I'm an organized person.

I also learned how to drive stick this weekend. It started out pretty rough at first (lots of stalling in first gear) but I got the hang of it pretty quickly. I drove all the way from Maryland to Philly and only stalled out at the Wayne intersection with the Mom n' Pop Cold Beer which is about two minutes from the crib. Stick is tons of fun, I must say. I was always very apprehensive about learning because it seemed kinda complicated, but now that I get the jist of it, it's quite a blast. Except when I don't drop the clutch in all the way by mistake and it makes a weird sound (which, mind you, has only happened
once not that many times since I got the car). I'll bet that's not good for your transmission.

I got some dope new sneakers the other day. I was originally looking for some of
these to go with my this, but they were out of stock. If you know anyone that wrestles, please don't mention this to them. They will most likely put me in the devastingly illegal full nelson maneuver until I tap out and tell them that I find cauliflower ear attractive.

My man Adam in Chicago just started up a
blog. Looks good, Adam. Go read his Katrina commentary and check this moderate blog he linked. Also try convincing him to break up his writing into smaller paragraphs. I wear contacts and it hurts my eyes, man.

I'm incredibly intrigued by Internet riddles, especially this one. I can't say that I really understand the concept of an Internet riddle, but it's fun to try and figure it out. I don't have much of an attention span and I zoned out after level four. Tell me if you get buried deep in it and your life starts seeming like
The Game. I will probably not believe your fanatical ravings and leave you to be chased by mafia dudes or something, which is really just a device to later reveal that Sean Penn might just be messing with you.

Common is racist? Dammit! I'm going to go pawn my copy of Be and buy raw materials to knit a tolerance kufi for him.

Since I've been making a concerted effort to read more lately, I purchased some of these "book" things at the fabled "bookstore" earlier this week. They've all come highly recommended and it seems to me that I maybe shouldn't be telling people I've never read them: A Heartbreaking Work... by Dave Eggers, The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien and Ken Kesey's Once Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest. Still haven't cracked open the Chuck's Killing Yourself To Live, but I will soon.

Go
here to find out the number one US and UK chart hits from the day you were born. I lucked out and got "Karma Chameleon" and "Relax" as my two songs. Beautiful. My discovery ultimately led me to download several 80's pop standards "Hold On" by Wilson Phillips, which pleases me proper.

I did a press tonight about recent graduate who wrote a social sciences paper on the motivations behind fan websites. Interesting stuff. If I were to write a social sciences paper, I'd probably do it about how MacGyver is the best television role model of all time. Of course, those damn com professors will probably attach all sorts of vacuous buzzwords like "parasocial identification" to my thesis. I don't know what parasocial identification is. Season three just came out on DVD, so parasocially identify your piggy bank, smash it and cop discs.


I usually love reading the Onion AV Club's music reviews (pomposity notwithstanding), but I'm going to have to disagree with this guy's latest piece(s). He jazzes off all over Blood of Abraham's Eyedollartree (really, really sucked) and J-Live's new record (heard it kinda sucked). I don't know, it just seems like this guy is trying to up his archival stock by writing all these positive reviews of stuff that isn't nearly as complex or subversive as he says it is. That's just me, though. On a positive note, their blog is pretty great.

Whole lot of kids came out to the
Collegian's commentary meeting this past Tuesday. I'm excited for this year, we seem to have attracted a ton of enthusiastic and talented people. I still hate Quark though.

Good, good, great
resource for Mozilla extensions.I'm really liking the built-in Gmail extension for the browser. Very convenient. I'm one of those people who checks their e-mail about 800 times a day so it's good for me. In the time it took you to read that sentence, I probably checked my e-mail three times (both accounts too).

Open directory of my friend Gerard's
puppy pictures. Listen, I know that some might consider liking puppy pictures bizarre and/or emasculating, but eff it, I love puppy pictures. I'm sure you do too. Don't fight it. Just let it happen.

A
disturbingly exhaustive history of Hi-C Ecto Cooler, its legacy and the sugary, from-concentrate imprint it left on all of our childhoods. Stuff is so good.

I just realized I use adverbs way too much.

I'm doing a City Paper piece about this lady. Good god. Wish me hot Wiccan nature sex luck. My only exposure to Pagan-esque beliefs was when my old roommate started developing an interest in Wiccan teachings and set up an altar in her room. Needless to say, this brought back some bad memories from my childhood. Wand was beautiful though.

Saturday, September 03, 2005

In case you're taking a break from Katrina coverage...


...and you want to read something that will most likely make you stupider, you've come to the right shithole blog. (in regards to this excellent picture- due credit).

I realize that I'm quite slow on the blogs-that-have-been-around-for-awhile uptake, but I'm a new fan of Hardly Art, Hardly Garbage. Says some really funny and true shit ("Papoose is Big L but without the sense of humor") and, of course, good music. Don't really get why he likes Maino though. Guy is annoying and appears in Source/XXL fashion features. Sucks.

The one weekend I could come home and get my new car is the one weekend that the best shit is happening in the city of Philadelphia. Dammit! I'm missing so much good stuff (ample partiage) which I'm really disappointed about, but honestly I just need to devote time to learning how to drive stick. I'm sure I can pick it up fairly quickly, but I would be lying if shit didn't seem daunting. What's weird is that although every single stick driver I know has been giving me all sorts of pointers on how to rock the clutch, but only one person has really made any sense. I'm gotten some truly bizarre and difficult to understand advice from some people. Hopefully I don't kill myself. In related Lazor-kids-suck-at-driving news, my sister ran into the garage the other day.

I forget how I came across this, but there was a post entitled
"[Are] bloggers relevant?" to which someone replied "As long as you can articulate any useful observation on the area of interest there is relevance. It may not be relevant to some-- only the ones who want to learn more." Ehh, at first I kinda agreed with this, and then I realized what I was acually saying. The term "blog" is tossed around more than Tara Reid these days; I remember during Live8 they had "live bloggers" reporting on the event like that was supposed to be alluring to me. Fuck that. I don't think I'm in any way relevant to anything. Now, the big-ass blogs that address serious topics like politics and porn? Nominally relevant, perhaps. Many other blogs? Not particularly. I mean, I guess music blogs are relevant to someone like me because I love music, but I wouldn't necessarily call reading them "relevant" as much as I would call it "entertaining" or "fun." This is in no way a criticism of blog content; it's moreso just me expressing my frustration with the fact that people are trying to make blogs much more important than they actually are some CNN buzzword shit. I think that shit's just for fun.

So the first issue of the Collegian officially debuted on Thursday (supposed to come out Wednesday, but there was a problem with the printing or something). I think it turned out pretty damn good. Every section looked on-point. I know this sounds like I'm preaching to the choir or something, but I don't think a lot of people/students at my school realize how much freakin' work that shit is. Getting and editing articles is one thing, and that undoubtedly takes some time, but the actual laying out of the pages is the worst. I'm not much of a spacial thinker so sometimes I get really mad at the shit and grab the monitor and shake it like a colicking baby, as if that's going to help. Makes me feel better though. Anywho, if this first issue is any indication of this year's level of quality, I'm very honored to be a part of it.

I'm not going to lie-
PBR is kinda delicious.

How long before I overplay the new Kanye record in my car, get sick of it, take it out of the changer and throw it loose into my trunk so it gets really scratched up an unuseable? I'm going to take the high road and say two weeks, when it's probably more like two or three hours days. People always complain about the radio overplaying songs; I pretty much just have to worry about me overplaying songs to myself. I'll get really fixated on a certain track or album, listen to it until my ears bleed, then get really disgusted with shit and toss it like I mentioned. This is precisely why I can't listen to Men At Work anymore.

I've been backed up with Okayplayer reviews lately but the street dates aren't until the end of September at least (review usually debuts on or around the release's street date). Right now I'm working on the DangerDoom album. I listened to it end to end while driving back to Maryland earlier; I liked it, but listening extensively to those two guys together at once made me realize that both of them are somewhat limited. Don't get me wrong- big fan of Doom. Think he's one of the nutsiest, original-est guys out there lately. Danger's solid on the production game too (the simultaneously loved-and-maligned Grey Album, which I hearted, and his work with Gorillaz, Liks, etc.). Despite my general admiration of these two, I just found myself getting antsy about three quarters of the way through the record (Bol hates it, but he hates everything).

I love Doom's bizarre drunken pop culture reference-laden rhymes, but dude seriously uses the same exact carbon-copy flow for every song (like Immortal Technique but less irritating). He's switched it up a few times in the past (I think the best example of this is on the Prefuse-produced "Blacklist" with Aesop), but for the most part sticks to the safe route. This isn't patently good or bad, it's just a bit boring on the ears after awhile. At the same time, he's an individual exception to my personal belief that an MC has to ride the beat as much as possible for a song to work. As for DM, he's established himself as an intricate, multi-layered, use-every-sound-you-can type of producer (a lesser version of the current Kanye, or something). Often times the shit sounds great, but when you juxtapose Doom's super-monotonous flow over the hyperactive drums and horn samples (the horns he uses for several songs sound too similar to each other, too), it just gets messy. I mean, I like quite a few songs on DangerDoom, but sometimes they just get mushed together and I find listening to it difficult. The fucking stupid Aqua Teen Hunger Force soundclips don't help either. I hate that shit, but that's for another post.

Look at Mike Myers' and Chris Tucker's faces while Kanye is talking his super-nervous Kanye talk (especially at the end!!). That is so classic. God I love Kanye. What's up with Chris Tucker anyway? I know that he stopped making flicks and started doing all that working with AIDS victims in Africa. Does he just do charity stuff now, or is he planning on coming out with something new? Come on, Smokey! Playing with my money is like playing with my emotions.

Man, why do people still use IE? I'm so accustomed to Firefox nowadays that I have to download it onto any computer I use that doesn't have it. It's not on my computer back in Maryland. Holler at "Open In New Tab." I saw some statistic somewhere that Firefox was creeping up and usage is around 50/50 lately. Who knows if it was accurate, but I wouldn't doubt it. Plus, don't you want this wonderful blog to be displayed correctly (as it totally is with FF)? Hm, you don't care? Figures.

Get at me if you're in Maryland, will you? You will? Good.

Friday, September 02, 2005

Damn them new loafers hurt my pocket

I wish I actually had new loafers. Shit would be hot.

So I like that Kanye "Touch the Sky" a whole lot. Just Blaze does good with the Curtis Mayfield sample, like Kanye's verse and the mysterious
Lupe Fiasco sounds good too (doesn't dude look a little like Flex Alexander with no hair?). Even if you don't think they look alike (which, now that I think about it, they don't really), you must have appreciation for that windsurfing picture. For some reason, windsurfing always makes me think of this book I read when I was little; it was an Encyclopedia Brown rip-off where the guy had blackish-blueish hair and glasses, and he deduced that a guy was a windsurfer because of his cut lower body and callouses on his hand, which even in my young age I found to be somewhat homoerotic on the detective's part. Anyone know what that book series is called? I realize that I provided pretty much no context clues whatsoever, but if it happens to inspire some divine trivial epiphany, let me know. Uhh also I'm having a vague vision of this kid maybe appearing in Sports Illustrated for Kids. More useless memories from me later.

Someone wrote up American Apparel in the Collegian this week. Although the article was very well-written and painted the company to be conscious and altruistic, I kinda got a weird vibe from their website. Whenever I hear about them the first thing that comes up is inevitably the fact that they don't use sweatshop labor to produce their clothes. This is fine, but of course they drive up the cost of their very plain t-shirts (which look no different from a typical Hanes tee or something). If people are willing to pay more for non-sweatshopped products on some personal politics shit, more power to you. I just don't think you should consider yourself some sort of fair trade pioneer just because you contributed a sizeable chunk of cash to this guy's $150 million company. Just seems like a scuzzbag (even though the female writer seemed to be quite taken by the fact that the dude wanted to jazz off in front of her...the fuck?). Choice cuts:

Merrily Lupo, a designer, has worked with him for over five years and says it's more like a family business with 1,500 employees. "You can ask him if you can borrow money and he'll usually do it," she says. "If American Apparel is a cult, then democracy is a cult. It's a project. It's just an art project."


Merrily, it's okay to admit that you work for a successful company (a family business with 1500 employees? Please). Not sure if you got the press release, but selling out is the new Fugazi being indie. It's not like The Shins are going to come over and smash your Pavement CDs with their exclusive Nike Dunks for getting a hot paycheck every two weeks. Enjoy yourself, will you?

"Masturbation in front of women is underrated," Dov explains to me later over the phone. "It's much easier on the woman. She gets to watch, it's a sensual experience that doesn't involve a man violating a woman, yet once the man has his release, it's over and you can talk to the guy." And, Iris adds on another day, "I think it's really healthy to have an orgasm four times a day. It's got to be great for business."

Unfortunately, I'm not a woman so I can't really comment on the assertion that it's "much easier for the woman" to rub one out while you're having a conversation. Perhaps I'm a bit OG old-fashioned, but I always preferred just chatting or getting smoothies to break the ice. Furthermore, I feel like this guy contends that men are unapproachable and hard to interact with if they haven't gotten their rocks off. Weirdo.

"All these older businesspeople, for the most part, are playing the Wizard of Oz," he says. "We don't really know who Bill Gates is; we don't know what turns Bush's crank. Is he into bestiality or what? Because it can't just be the guy's playing to God."

What?

In a time when the FCC and conservative corporate powers are arbitrarily censoring basic civil liberties, Dov's candor is refreshing. And these women who work with him get it. "You can thank me and Iris and Alex," Dov says of his enlightened company vision. "We all have our fucking dick in it. It's not just one cock."

You know when a
weird actor will come up several times in a day and you begin to question whether or not it's a mere coincidence? Yeah, this is just like that, except with homoeroticism (see earlier paragraph).

My "Fundamentals of Journalism" class seems like it's going to be a little easy. The assignments are just writing various stories and stuff which occupies most of my time anyway. I think I'll just hand in shit I do for the
Collegian and whatnot, kill lots of birds. Lots of birds.

If you want to borrow the Beanie Sigel CD from me want to hang out and miss me, sorry. I'll be in Maryland this weekend, maybe eating crabs but definitely jousting. It's the
state sport. If you're in the Old Line State, call me.

The other day at City Paper I talked to a lady from a new bar opening in Old City. It quite possibly has the best bar name ever. Apparently the jukebox is all rockabilly and drinks (beer in cans only) all cost in the range of $3-$5. That's fucking great. You can sign up on there if you want to come to the opening night and I think you get open bar. Beautiful. Who wants to go? Also, the lil' press release/info sheet I read said something like "Gravel in your stomach and grit in your eye!" when describing the atmosphere, which sounds good to me. Unfortunately, they won't have any actual rockabilly bands playing inside one of those mesh cages to protect themselves from projectile bottles like in Roadhouse. That's okay though, can't expect too too much.

This Hurricane Katrina black people looting vs. white people "finding" issue is being addressed by blogs all over the place. From Wild Packs, BC with some signature funny and Shrimp fam with photographic evidence. I for one think is quite effed, but I'm not sure that this particular case is indicative of a mass media trend as much as it reflects the racist biases of a small group (or maybe even one person) of caption writers. Or maybe this whole thing is just a misunderstanding (who knows). Today a classmate was saying she watched Fox News and was very apprehensive about stating this; the teacher reassured her that it was okay. I agreed to myself; look, just because I don't get my news from "America's Watchdog" doesn't mean I'm going to look down my nose at you because you do. That's pompous bullshit, in my opinion. Do what you want.

I think "Feeding Frenzy" is the most essential CP column ever, so much so that its inclusion in the web edition might rock the faces of people so hard they'd give up reading the paper altogether. Thank god they didn't. Just kidding. In unrelated news, this is a really interesting article.

Finally, I don't think liking sports qualifies you to be a sports commentator (second paragraph down). I love sports, but you do not want me in the booth talking shit. I'm not very articulate and I'd probably curse way too much. Dude should stick to covering Berlin's "Take My Breath Away" with his buxom wifey.