Here we have two examples of online presentation: a Wikipedia article and a multimedia story. Both are well done - the Wikipedia article is stocked full of references and clean language, and the multimedia story is artistically sound - but both are spinning two different approaches to telling the Chechen War story.
The multimedia story is an emotional, more personal account of the Second Chechen War. Pictures and stories with young kids, kids that served the military during the war, kids that serve dramatic lines like "You become like a savage," create a touching, dramatic story. Audio clips and interviews, a somber music choice, and even the use of color (black, red and gray) create a full experience rather than a simple batch of information.
While both hold great amounts of information, Wikipedia is what it is, and that's a formal explanation of the Second Chechen War, and formal explanation that cannot always be considered a credible source. Separately, I think that neither Wikipedia or the multimedia story cover the full spectrum of this experience.
A multimedia story like this one provides a great supplement to the Wikipedia page because it stretches beyond the standard facts. This way, a student or party interested in learning about the Chechen War can read a factual account and internalize an emotional approach. To enter into a subject with an open mind is key, but this can only be achieved with an open mind. By only referencing the multimedia story, the audience risks trapping themselves too much in the emotional aspect of the presentation.
When I was in middle school, and fights with my little middle friends were everyday happenings, I'd reach out to my mother as a vent source. I'd rant and rave and tell her about my issues, and she would always say "Look at the situation from their shoes." This being said, a complete (or close enough to complete) understanding of a school subject, a hostile friend situation, or the Second Chechen War can only be reached if you explore several approaches.
This applies to different multimedia stories as well, even the ones that may not weigh in as heavy on the heart or mind. (Baltimore Sun German Bakery article vs. Baltimore Sun German Bakery slideshow)
Oh, and Moms are always right.
Projects I Am Interested In:
Well Connected
Supervolcano
Islam in Europe
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
VB 207 ... Kinda Like Home
This blog has officially been taken over by my Writing for New Media class. I'm OK with this though. It's not like I've been keeping up with this baby, anyway, even though I was doing well for awhile. Actually, I think it'll be nice to get this thing constant again. This blog is where I really house my thoughts.
I have some neat ideas for this class. Hope I follow through with them.
I have some neat ideas for this class. Hope I follow through with them.
Monday, January 7, 2008
I Can See The Candle Dripping
My cat is keeping my right leg warm, and his gentle breathing is hypnotizing me. I breath in sync with the simple taps of the keys on my laptop, earphones in and the TV muffling in the background.
Tonight a new friend and I went to get Indian food, which is by far my most favorite food (I lied ... maybe it's Greek food, now that I think about it), and a food that I haven't had in a very, very long time. I used to roll with crowds that loved Indian food, and now my friends are I are all about the rotating sushi bar. Luckily, Sarah and I could wolf down some naan and samosas and other perfect morsels of overseas temptations. It was golden. She's interesting to talk to, but so is anyone that's their own person. Do more than meet new people - analyze them. Internalize their reactions and react to those reactions. And go on more dinner hang-outs.
While we are on the topics of dinner parties, Jac, Sara, Katherine and I gathered our parents (and London along for the ride) for a jolly night of Guitar Hero, dips and margaritas. It was great to see my main Baltimore meeting my parents; it was really important to me, and I was thrilled to see that everyone had such a good time. Pictures soon.
Do you ever laugh because you're happy? Or laugh because you didn't think you'd get to that point of pure bliss, a kind that wasn't forced on by some sweet nectar or fine substance or pre-determined anticipation. That's what I've sought out, and that's what I rarely find, but when I do, I wish I could hold onto it until my knuckles are bloody and tired. And even then, it's never enough.
I wish it was raining. That's all I'm thinking right now.
Tonight a new friend and I went to get Indian food, which is by far my most favorite food (I lied ... maybe it's Greek food, now that I think about it), and a food that I haven't had in a very, very long time. I used to roll with crowds that loved Indian food, and now my friends are I are all about the rotating sushi bar. Luckily, Sarah and I could wolf down some naan and samosas and other perfect morsels of overseas temptations. It was golden. She's interesting to talk to, but so is anyone that's their own person. Do more than meet new people - analyze them. Internalize their reactions and react to those reactions. And go on more dinner hang-outs.
While we are on the topics of dinner parties, Jac, Sara, Katherine and I gathered our parents (and London along for the ride) for a jolly night of Guitar Hero, dips and margaritas. It was great to see my main Baltimore meeting my parents; it was really important to me, and I was thrilled to see that everyone had such a good time. Pictures soon.
Do you ever laugh because you're happy? Or laugh because you didn't think you'd get to that point of pure bliss, a kind that wasn't forced on by some sweet nectar or fine substance or pre-determined anticipation. That's what I've sought out, and that's what I rarely find, but when I do, I wish I could hold onto it until my knuckles are bloody and tired. And even then, it's never enough.
I wish it was raining. That's all I'm thinking right now.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
I Appreciate Gay Mashed Up Puppies
Sitting in the librarium, listening to mash-ups and NOT studying.
Here's a couple pictures for my thoughts - Sad puppies, and The Gay Blades are one of two incredible unsigned bands at the moments, the other one being The Appreciation Post.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Too Soon? Too Soon?
Saw Gwar tonight.
So here's the thing - I don't really listen to Gwar. I've done my preliminary research, but I didn't spend most of the show up front and collecting a rainbow of dye on my white t-shirt. I watched safely from the balcony. My jaw was loose; I think my mouth was agape for the entire hour and a half. I watched the metal mayhem (with a bit of grit punk) for what it was, and that was ridiculous. How anyone can listen to Gwar for more than ten minutes is beyond me, but I can easily see how they gather such fanatical tour stops. It was like a fucking tie-dye party!
Among the decapitations, giant strap-on cock and balls, rape and governmental cracks, and minion slaves wearing thongs, Gwar struck a giant sword through a T-rex, killed Don Vito and Little Man from Viva La Bam, Bush, Osama, Hitler, and zombie dude they referred to as Casey Calvert from Hawthorne Heights (Too soon? Probably considering it was at the same venue - 930 Club in DC - but it's Gwar and no one actually takes them seriously). And as for the last defiant note of theatrical shock rock, the "singer" hollered "Fuck the police! Fuck the government! You are OK! Gwar is OK!" and something else about world domination. I might've been watching the satanic Tony awards. GG Allin knew what stage he was shitting on, but Gwar's not looking for jail time. Their set was so over-the-top, so overdone, and so overly conscious of what it was trying to do that there is no way that I cannot appreciate and be entertained. It's amusing.
If you want fucked up shit, watch these. Or read Drugs Are Nice, and even that seems relatively calm compared to the oral history of GG Allin. That guy is a fucked up motherfucker, and that's why I find him exhilarating to learn about. Lisa Suck Dog was fucked up too. Her whole fictionalized zine life was like one huge acid trip. How do these people think?
Bastardized rock history is actually PG-rated. VH1 quivers in their boot knees at footage like this, but it's the only way to understand how real underground music exists - sometimes even in current manifests. You have to watch the full spectrum, all extremes, to grasp the griminess, which is really what rock is. GG Allin, well, he's just in his own category, but the derivatives are still deserving.
Heroin seemed like a glamorous, nearly right wing way to die, GG. I almost wish you had killed yourself on stage one of those Halloweens. That, however, I don't wish to see on YouTube.
Now I need to know if Lordi takes themselves seriously. Maybe it's like a Kiss situation? Entirely theatrical but entirely too genuine of an effort?
So here's the thing - I don't really listen to Gwar. I've done my preliminary research, but I didn't spend most of the show up front and collecting a rainbow of dye on my white t-shirt. I watched safely from the balcony. My jaw was loose; I think my mouth was agape for the entire hour and a half. I watched the metal mayhem (with a bit of grit punk) for what it was, and that was ridiculous. How anyone can listen to Gwar for more than ten minutes is beyond me, but I can easily see how they gather such fanatical tour stops. It was like a fucking tie-dye party!
Among the decapitations, giant strap-on cock and balls, rape and governmental cracks, and minion slaves wearing thongs, Gwar struck a giant sword through a T-rex, killed Don Vito and Little Man from Viva La Bam, Bush, Osama, Hitler, and zombie dude they referred to as Casey Calvert from Hawthorne Heights (Too soon? Probably considering it was at the same venue - 930 Club in DC - but it's Gwar and no one actually takes them seriously). And as for the last defiant note of theatrical shock rock, the "singer" hollered "Fuck the police! Fuck the government! You are OK! Gwar is OK!" and something else about world domination. I might've been watching the satanic Tony awards. GG Allin knew what stage he was shitting on, but Gwar's not looking for jail time. Their set was so over-the-top, so overdone, and so overly conscious of what it was trying to do that there is no way that I cannot appreciate and be entertained. It's amusing.
If you want fucked up shit, watch these. Or read Drugs Are Nice, and even that seems relatively calm compared to the oral history of GG Allin. That guy is a fucked up motherfucker, and that's why I find him exhilarating to learn about. Lisa Suck Dog was fucked up too. Her whole fictionalized zine life was like one huge acid trip. How do these people think?
Bastardized rock history is actually PG-rated. VH1 quivers in their boot knees at footage like this, but it's the only way to understand how real underground music exists - sometimes even in current manifests. You have to watch the full spectrum, all extremes, to grasp the griminess, which is really what rock is. GG Allin, well, he's just in his own category, but the derivatives are still deserving.
Heroin seemed like a glamorous, nearly right wing way to die, GG. I almost wish you had killed yourself on stage one of those Halloweens. That, however, I don't wish to see on YouTube.
Now I need to know if Lordi takes themselves seriously. Maybe it's like a Kiss situation? Entirely theatrical but entirely too genuine of an effort?
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Cool Story, Jeopardy Teen!
Let me wrap these thoughts into a readable package.
Prefacing ... My roommate and I have an incredible love for The Graduate. Obsession is a more accurate descriptor, actually. I stand by these convictions: they are one of the best new bands of 2007, and their full-length Anhedonia is in the top ten of the year EASILY. And I've been blessed with their friendship; these dudes are great great people, and anytime they come through Baltimore, the fun records itself in the history books.
And now I will try to collect all the happenings from Tuesday night's festivities. I do this because it was epic, and by epic I mean it was more fun than I've ever mustered at a show and after party. Yesterday was the Baltimore stop on the Spitalfield farewell tour (at Ottobar, of course) with The Grads, The Forecast and Attention. The Grads were supposed to come in really early Tuesday morning after their CT show and catch some Z's, but the weather was a bit testy. Instead, they picked me up from the apartment - I didn't want to drive 'cause I knew the night was going to be a drunk fest - strolled over to campus so we could kidnap Jac from her Stats class, and headed to Walmart for tour necessities (Corey needed a knife so he could whittle some wood, among other things). Daniel, their new GPS, took us to the Ottobar, but not before Jac and I invested new treatment for "Anhedonia" into their brains (Puppies, killing puppies, and then killer puppies?? Please, oh please let this become a reality).
Killing time before the doors opened, Jac and I chilled around, chatted around, and then gave Spitalfield our love poster collage creation to let them know how much we appreciate their music, past and present. Handing it over, we ranted things like "Oh my god, we feel really really lame right now" and "We've never done this before." But I think they appreciated it. I enjoy showing and proving how much I appreciate music, and I especially enjoy making someone's day a bit brighter. It's little things like this that give faith to human nature, and we should all do more of it. That and use less paper products. We also decorated the Grad's van with snowmen decal, red ballons and green streamers as a Max birthday/Christmas surprise. It was pretty damn cute.
The show started, Jac and I began drinking - we rarely go out anymore; school and work has been the death of our social graces so this was our time to live free - and our wonderful friends start to roll in like pleasant peas. The Graduate played a brutal set, but Ottobar has always magnified their excellence. Lullo and I chilled upstairs (2 for Tuesdays! Killer!) for a couple drinks to catch up before he took the stage with Spitalfield (he's filling in on guitar for this tour), and by this point, Rolling Rock pulsed through my veins in high voltage. By the time Spitalfield took the stage, nothing could bring me down. And nothing did. Jac and I even did the annoying drunk thing and screamed nonsense like "Don't break up!!" and "Reconsider!!"
After the show, the plan was to go to The Grad's favorite bar in Fells Point, Friends, to rightfully celebrate Max's 21st (which was really a couple date previous), but the rest of the bands were already wasted and gravitating towards upstairs (2 for Tuesdays! Undeniable!). We convinced Wegs and Jared, the token underagers, to try their skills at getting upstairs. BEST DECISION EVER. BEST BAR NIGHT EVER. THAT'S ALL THAT NEEDS TO BE SAID.
Turns out the guys in Spitalfield are as enthusiastic as T Bell as Jac and I, so there was a major campaign to get a fourth meal at the only TB in B-more open past two (apparently, they even called the store - and I thought WE were obsessed). So after last call, we all piled into the van (including Shannon from The Forecast ... love that girl) and headed off the the holy land (or holy drive-thru). But, of course, being the attention-lacked individual I am, I insisted we jump in and jump out of Spitalfield's van while we waited for our 20 soft tacos. And yes, I'm easily amused.
We finally got home around four in the morn (I have no clue where those two hours went, and I'm still trying to piece it all together), but this is where our night comes to an capitalized end. Jac and I had planned an entire Christmas/birthday celebration with gifts under the tree, and being that we were all drunk and high on life, it was received with a high level of excitement. Who knew that Jared actually loves Star Wars? I guess that light saber was an appropriate pick.
2 C BA FO?
Now I'm onto the next day, and it's been rough. But it's also been comforting to reflect. There are nights that you'll never forget but then you do, or at least parts of them. And then there are nights that you couldn't forget and not because you made an embarrassment of yourself. Because you were having so much fun there was nothing fogging the mind, nothing to strike a sentence as awkward, and nothing that made you in the least bit upset. It was one of those nights.
I suppose the reason why I write all of this is because I never thought I would get to this point. I've been circulating myself and jamming around this sort of music since before I could legally steer a wheel, and I always dreamed of what it would be like to enjoy the company of the band's I actually listened to. It seemed odd, an off-set irregularity that required me trying too hard and feeling really awkward about it. Awkwardness is my ultimate folding point. And I almost pat myself on the back for leaving the day-dreamin' high schooler behind because I'm finally at a stage where I don't scrutinize my own voice. I've always been very opinionated, and I've always had a knack for speed humps like public speaking, but I've always been very anxious. Knots twist in my stomachs like dangerous vines. I'm leaving these knots, and recognizing this release has been the biggest learning experience Baltimore awarded me.
My mom always told me that you never stop discovering yourself, and that even when you think you've got it ALL figured out, a curveball comes hurdling your way, throwing your comfortable assumptions into the lions den. I think I've battled the lions for now; I'm just waiting on the shark pit.
I want to be on tour. I will be on tour.
Today was the first major snow. I'd say four inches? Even though my feet were snow magnets, it was quite pretty. I NEED BOOTS.
Tomorrow Katherine and I are seeing GWAR. You DID read that correctly.
On Friday, Jac and I might head up to the NJ show. Matt left his SK here and someone else left their sleeping bag. And we miss them already, so I figure if the weather isn't so bad, seeing them one more time before who knows when is a good call. They are taking January off to write (and maybe visit Baltimore in between; let us cross fingers). It could be half a year before we see them again. I don't believe in tragedies. The Eyeball offices are 20 minutes away from the NJ venue - James and I have been throwing around plans for a Demo day invasion (basically, we get to listen to all the demos they get in and make fun of really bad bands), and the situation seems all too perfect. Let's hope for good circumstances. And boots, 'cause I really need them.
"The City That Reads"
Baltimore is quiet and cold
There's no ship in the bay to take me back home
In time for the holiday
So December never ends
You come here instead
I've got gifts and food and friends
Plenty of room in my bed
Oh, you can help me mend
So here's to being alone
To anyone on their own
If anyone's listening
Think of me when I'm gone
It's not going to hurt for long
And you can just forget
And I can live without regret
Baltimore is quiet and cold
So I walk down to the bay
Where everyone's gone inside for the holiday
Oh, December never ends
So will you make up your mind
Over time I've found a piece of me
Somewhere on these empty streets
That I could never bring myself to leave
So here's to being alone
To anyone on their own
If anyone's listening
Think of me when I'm gone
It's not going to hurt for long
And you can just forget
When I return to you at last
Surprise me in red and black
Oh no, you never ever give in
Never give in
When you smile there's a certain line
Of muscles strained from front to back
So I'll do anything to get me right back home
So here's to being alone
To anyone on their own
If anyone's listening
Think of me when I'm gone
It's not going to hurt for long
So here's to being alone
To anyone on their own
If anyone's listening
Think of me when I'm gone
It's not going to hurt for long
And you can just forget
And I can live without regret
Prefacing ... My roommate and I have an incredible love for The Graduate. Obsession is a more accurate descriptor, actually. I stand by these convictions: they are one of the best new bands of 2007, and their full-length Anhedonia is in the top ten of the year EASILY. And I've been blessed with their friendship; these dudes are great great people, and anytime they come through Baltimore, the fun records itself in the history books.
And now I will try to collect all the happenings from Tuesday night's festivities. I do this because it was epic, and by epic I mean it was more fun than I've ever mustered at a show and after party. Yesterday was the Baltimore stop on the Spitalfield farewell tour (at Ottobar, of course) with The Grads, The Forecast and Attention. The Grads were supposed to come in really early Tuesday morning after their CT show and catch some Z's, but the weather was a bit testy. Instead, they picked me up from the apartment - I didn't want to drive 'cause I knew the night was going to be a drunk fest - strolled over to campus so we could kidnap Jac from her Stats class, and headed to Walmart for tour necessities (Corey needed a knife so he could whittle some wood, among other things). Daniel, their new GPS, took us to the Ottobar, but not before Jac and I invested new treatment for "Anhedonia" into their brains (Puppies, killing puppies, and then killer puppies?? Please, oh please let this become a reality).
Killing time before the doors opened, Jac and I chilled around, chatted around, and then gave Spitalfield our love poster collage creation to let them know how much we appreciate their music, past and present. Handing it over, we ranted things like "Oh my god, we feel really really lame right now" and "We've never done this before." But I think they appreciated it. I enjoy showing and proving how much I appreciate music, and I especially enjoy making someone's day a bit brighter. It's little things like this that give faith to human nature, and we should all do more of it. That and use less paper products. We also decorated the Grad's van with snowmen decal, red ballons and green streamers as a Max birthday/Christmas surprise. It was pretty damn cute.
The show started, Jac and I began drinking - we rarely go out anymore; school and work has been the death of our social graces so this was our time to live free - and our wonderful friends start to roll in like pleasant peas. The Graduate played a brutal set, but Ottobar has always magnified their excellence. Lullo and I chilled upstairs (2 for Tuesdays! Killer!) for a couple drinks to catch up before he took the stage with Spitalfield (he's filling in on guitar for this tour), and by this point, Rolling Rock pulsed through my veins in high voltage. By the time Spitalfield took the stage, nothing could bring me down. And nothing did. Jac and I even did the annoying drunk thing and screamed nonsense like "Don't break up!!" and "Reconsider!!"
After the show, the plan was to go to The Grad's favorite bar in Fells Point, Friends, to rightfully celebrate Max's 21st (which was really a couple date previous), but the rest of the bands were already wasted and gravitating towards upstairs (2 for Tuesdays! Undeniable!). We convinced Wegs and Jared, the token underagers, to try their skills at getting upstairs. BEST DECISION EVER. BEST BAR NIGHT EVER. THAT'S ALL THAT NEEDS TO BE SAID.
Turns out the guys in Spitalfield are as enthusiastic as T Bell as Jac and I, so there was a major campaign to get a fourth meal at the only TB in B-more open past two (apparently, they even called the store - and I thought WE were obsessed). So after last call, we all piled into the van (including Shannon from The Forecast ... love that girl) and headed off the the holy land (or holy drive-thru). But, of course, being the attention-lacked individual I am, I insisted we jump in and jump out of Spitalfield's van while we waited for our 20 soft tacos. And yes, I'm easily amused.
We finally got home around four in the morn (I have no clue where those two hours went, and I'm still trying to piece it all together), but this is where our night comes to an capitalized end. Jac and I had planned an entire Christmas/birthday celebration with gifts under the tree, and being that we were all drunk and high on life, it was received with a high level of excitement. Who knew that Jared actually loves Star Wars? I guess that light saber was an appropriate pick.
2 C BA FO?
Now I'm onto the next day, and it's been rough. But it's also been comforting to reflect. There are nights that you'll never forget but then you do, or at least parts of them. And then there are nights that you couldn't forget and not because you made an embarrassment of yourself. Because you were having so much fun there was nothing fogging the mind, nothing to strike a sentence as awkward, and nothing that made you in the least bit upset. It was one of those nights.
I suppose the reason why I write all of this is because I never thought I would get to this point. I've been circulating myself and jamming around this sort of music since before I could legally steer a wheel, and I always dreamed of what it would be like to enjoy the company of the band's I actually listened to. It seemed odd, an off-set irregularity that required me trying too hard and feeling really awkward about it. Awkwardness is my ultimate folding point. And I almost pat myself on the back for leaving the day-dreamin' high schooler behind because I'm finally at a stage where I don't scrutinize my own voice. I've always been very opinionated, and I've always had a knack for speed humps like public speaking, but I've always been very anxious. Knots twist in my stomachs like dangerous vines. I'm leaving these knots, and recognizing this release has been the biggest learning experience Baltimore awarded me.
My mom always told me that you never stop discovering yourself, and that even when you think you've got it ALL figured out, a curveball comes hurdling your way, throwing your comfortable assumptions into the lions den. I think I've battled the lions for now; I'm just waiting on the shark pit.
I want to be on tour. I will be on tour.
Today was the first major snow. I'd say four inches? Even though my feet were snow magnets, it was quite pretty. I NEED BOOTS.
Tomorrow Katherine and I are seeing GWAR. You DID read that correctly.
On Friday, Jac and I might head up to the NJ show. Matt left his SK here and someone else left their sleeping bag. And we miss them already, so I figure if the weather isn't so bad, seeing them one more time before who knows when is a good call. They are taking January off to write (and maybe visit Baltimore in between; let us cross fingers). It could be half a year before we see them again. I don't believe in tragedies. The Eyeball offices are 20 minutes away from the NJ venue - James and I have been throwing around plans for a Demo day invasion (basically, we get to listen to all the demos they get in and make fun of really bad bands), and the situation seems all too perfect. Let's hope for good circumstances. And boots, 'cause I really need them.
"The City That Reads"
Baltimore is quiet and cold
There's no ship in the bay to take me back home
In time for the holiday
So December never ends
You come here instead
I've got gifts and food and friends
Plenty of room in my bed
Oh, you can help me mend
So here's to being alone
To anyone on their own
If anyone's listening
Think of me when I'm gone
It's not going to hurt for long
And you can just forget
And I can live without regret
Baltimore is quiet and cold
So I walk down to the bay
Where everyone's gone inside for the holiday
Oh, December never ends
So will you make up your mind
Over time I've found a piece of me
Somewhere on these empty streets
That I could never bring myself to leave
So here's to being alone
To anyone on their own
If anyone's listening
Think of me when I'm gone
It's not going to hurt for long
And you can just forget
When I return to you at last
Surprise me in red and black
Oh no, you never ever give in
Never give in
When you smile there's a certain line
Of muscles strained from front to back
So I'll do anything to get me right back home
So here's to being alone
To anyone on their own
If anyone's listening
Think of me when I'm gone
It's not going to hurt for long
So here's to being alone
To anyone on their own
If anyone's listening
Think of me when I'm gone
It's not going to hurt for long
And you can just forget
And I can live without regret
Sunday, November 18, 2007
GWAR ... GWARRAWRRARRR
I am unsure if living in my Internet dream world is as satisfying as a real dream world. But maybe the two aren't really that different anyway?
I learned a few things that weekend. One - I have to keep my game top-notch. Two - Jeff Hurn's Revel is actually awesome, and not like a B-rated Taxlo. Three - Amanda Lynn is an incredible person. I have so much respect for her; I wish her the best in everything she does.
Katherine and I are going to see GWAR at 930 Club on December 6th. I just bought tickets. Do you understand the severity of this situation?? Because, according to my list of life goal, this is pretty up there. Now I just have to see Lordi, and I'll have mainstream shockrock in my back pocket.
I update my AP Blog way more than this one, but I am going to try to keep this gem up and running as much as possible.
Act tough, think big. Believe in monstrosities.
I learned a few things that weekend. One - I have to keep my game top-notch. Two - Jeff Hurn's Revel is actually awesome, and not like a B-rated Taxlo. Three - Amanda Lynn is an incredible person. I have so much respect for her; I wish her the best in everything she does.
Katherine and I are going to see GWAR at 930 Club on December 6th. I just bought tickets. Do you understand the severity of this situation?? Because, according to my list of life goal, this is pretty up there. Now I just have to see Lordi, and I'll have mainstream shockrock in my back pocket.
I update my AP Blog way more than this one, but I am going to try to keep this gem up and running as much as possible.
Act tough, think big. Believe in monstrosities.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Practice Breathing
My body is exhausted. My mind is too. I woke up as the morning sky was still kneading its sleepy eyes and drifted off to work. There I drank about five cups of iced coffee and three cups of iced black teas. I couldn't tell if I was thirsty or tired or sipping to give me something to do other than ponder. See, I get in these ruts where I think too much. I clam up like sweaty palms and crave pills. I stay awake until I can't stay awake any longer so I won't have to sit in the dark and be along with my thoughts. THAT scares the shit out of me when I'm wallowing in these gutter moods, and all I can do it wait for the tide to change on its own accord.
Instead of a gradual orbital switch, my email hit me with a brutal wave to the face. When I got home from work, hyped like an overhype, I realized that I had to conduct a phone interview with Chris Carrabba within the next two hours. Because my stomach wasn't already knotted and tense enough. Because higher forces could probably sense that only something that would force me out of my rut would force me out of my rut. And it did. The interview kept getting pushed earlier, and I kept pacing the space between my bed and my dresser, lips pursed. Interviews don't really make me nervous anymore, not like they used to. Interviews with men like Chris Carrabba, arguably one of the most important musicians to nestle into my CD case, do make me nervous.
But he was really nice.
And he was very well-spoken, articulate and ... I don't know ... soft?
And he said some really neat things that I can't wait to get up for the Internet world to buzz about.
I think this album is going to be similar to AMAMABAS. More organic, maybe? Keep watch for the 'view. "Thick as Thieves," "Little Bombs," and "Keep Watch For Mines" are all killer teasers, and I've been replaying them like I used to with those old Places and Swiss Army tracks of my youth. The Shade of Poison Trees is going to dominate Dusk and Summer, and I have never been so relieved. Maybe Chris can help me work on this rut too.
Instead of a gradual orbital switch, my email hit me with a brutal wave to the face. When I got home from work, hyped like an overhype, I realized that I had to conduct a phone interview with Chris Carrabba within the next two hours. Because my stomach wasn't already knotted and tense enough. Because higher forces could probably sense that only something that would force me out of my rut would force me out of my rut. And it did. The interview kept getting pushed earlier, and I kept pacing the space between my bed and my dresser, lips pursed. Interviews don't really make me nervous anymore, not like they used to. Interviews with men like Chris Carrabba, arguably one of the most important musicians to nestle into my CD case, do make me nervous.
But he was really nice.
And he was very well-spoken, articulate and ... I don't know ... soft?
And he said some really neat things that I can't wait to get up for the Internet world to buzz about.
I think this album is going to be similar to AMAMABAS. More organic, maybe? Keep watch for the 'view. "Thick as Thieves," "Little Bombs," and "Keep Watch For Mines" are all killer teasers, and I've been replaying them like I used to with those old Places and Swiss Army tracks of my youth. The Shade of Poison Trees is going to dominate Dusk and Summer, and I have never been so relieved. Maybe Chris can help me work on this rut too.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Say Anything, The Tornado
My 2007 could come tornado-ing into an unmatched and encompassing climatic point with the new Say Anything album. The new song I've heard hasn't struck me yet, but this doesn't bother or phase me. I am intrigued. My mind is at ease like a calm before a storm, and I am just waiting to get swept into its whirling winds. I hold the highest expectations for Bemis and crew because they have blown my mind lyrically and hook-wise more than any other band. A double-disc, hour and a half epic brain buster like the new album is a feat for the ages, but if there is one band that can do it, it would be Say Anything (and not The Early November). This might be the highlight of my year, for serious. Never has looming disappointment struck with such fear.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Poptarts and Sex
On Beat # 3: Hell hath no fury like the Copyright Royalty Board
On Beat # 2: Jammin with boredom
On Beat # 1: Pirates own streets, musicians lose beats
Hot stuff, huh? The tides are changing, my friend. They are crashing upon the millions of particles of sand opportunities that inhabit this earth and the little satchel I bring with me to the beach is filling itself up with grains and treasure trinkets. I will be watching the waves as they crash and retract with a careful but eager eye.
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