Please go to Joshua’s blog to see what kind of sarcastic sonofabitch people vote into office in North Carolina. Their Representative is apparently flabbergasted that Democrats would suggest spending a lousy one million dollars promoting the use of bicycles. He probably hops in his Hummer to pick up his mail at the end of the driveway, too.
Category Archives: musings
I love KEXP, but . . .
. . . sometimes I lose a little faith. KEXP is pretty much the best music-oriented radio station that I know of. They have pretty well-rounded programming that caters to most musical tastes, if only for 3 hours at a time. The djs are very knowledgable and experienced (and the ones I’ve met are nice people, too). I give them some of my time and [probably too much of] my money. But every once in a while, the station has a way of making me say, “Huh?”
For example, you can say all the nice things you want about the station, but if you have anything negative to say, you best keep it to yourself (or in your blog). I agree that some people get a little crazy sometimes and take out their anger on the dj. But I know of at least one dj who will get seriously offended even if you just state simply, “I don’t like that song.” I would think that would be good information to have if one’s job boils down to being an entertainer. If you do something that nobody likes, would you really want to keep doing it?
And then there’s this sort of elitism I feel sometimes with regard to the station. A kind of “we say what’s cool and what’s not” kind of vibe. Only sometimes. Which makes the fact that they are now playing Flight of the Conchords’ “Business Time” a wee bit ironic or something. I first heard this song several years when a friend of mine forwarded a .wav file of it to me. At the time, it was apparently a big hit on the Mountain. (The Mountain is a very cracker-type radio station in Seattle. They play Dave Matthews, ’nuff said.) I don’t know exactly how long ago that was, but I could swear I still lived in West Seattle, which would put it at more than four years. And at least two years ago, the kiwis were performing it on Conan O’Brien. So why is it now cool enough to be played regularly on KEXP? Because now the Flight of the Conchords are cool enough to have their own HBO series.
Or at least that’s how I see it.
This is my girlfriend, Mulva.
I have a pet peeve. Perhaps most people don’t care, but Britney Spears et al have NOT been showing us their vaginae. I’m not even sure if gynecologists regularly actually see anyone’s vagina. Sure, the vagina is the complementary organ to the penis, so there does seem to be some slight logic there in using the word. However, I think it became the vogue to use the word first out of ignorance, and then because vagina is so fun and easy to say. The vagina is not even the analogous part. That job is held by the clitoris – and even Jerry Seinfeld can’t pronounce that word.
From Wikipedia
In common speech, the term “vagina” is often used inaccurately to refer to the vulva or female genitals generally; strictly speaking, the vagina is a specific internal structure and the vulva is the exterior genitalia only.
It might seem uncool initially, but I think if we make a concerted effort, we can get our society in the habit of talking about vulvae wherever appropriate. Perhaps it can start in a joking manner. Add a little sarcasm to your intonation, but eventually it will just be the norm.
Help me out, brothers and sisters.
Did Frances Farmer have her revenge, afterall?
Last night I watched Frances, a biopic of the life of Frances Farmer. I feel a bit cheated because I found out after watching it that significant portions were made up. Most significantly, in my mind, was the lobotomy. There is apparently no record nor witnesses that Ms. Farmer was ever given a lobotomy, and yet, there it was on screen. This was a huge betrayal to me. For most of the film, I watched in appreciation, but without much emotion – she had a rough life, that sucks, blah blah blah – but when that ice pick was lifted to Jessica Lange’s eye . . .
I have told myself that my burst into tears, though derived from a fictional account, is justified. They may not have done it to Frances, but it is well documented by the hospital itself that transorbital lobotomies were performed on patients. So my horror is well-founded.
I am still left with the burning question – would Frances Farmer have been institutionalized had she been Francis Farmer instead?
Elliott Smith loved the Beatles
Last night, I was at my computer, searching for some Marty Robbins to put on my iPod. One thing led to another, and I found myself watching clips of Elliott Smith on YouTube and reading his Wikipedia article. In the Beatles influence section, the article mentions some of the solo works Elliott played regularly in concert. Making the list was only one Lennon song and three of Harrison’s. I’ll just have to take their word for it, but, coincidence?
I have no way of corroborating with first hand knowledge. I only went to one Elliott Smith performance at the Showbox here in Seattle, which, regrettably, I don’t even remember. I do have the ticket stub as proof, though. Nor am I the type of person to take note of such details. The idea that my mother would make the distinction among the Beatles is impressive to me. Sure, I heard the band’s influence in Smith’s work, but beyond that, I wouldn’t be able to make any definitive statements.
There are some people who know everything there is to know about their favorite artists (in whatever genre or medium). However, even regarding the one musician I “completely” obsessed over, I am seriously lacking. I made a pilgrimage to Trent Reznor’s home town, and I religiously traversed the homonymously named street during the five years I lived in New York. But ask me to name all the songs on any Nine Inch Nails album, and I’m sure I couldn’t do it. And there are only a handful of albums to choose from.
I do enjoy reading about artist’s lives, the paths they’ve taken and how it affects their work. I do think a lot about the music as I’m listening to it. And I suppose all those facts and ideas are stored in my brain somewhere. Mostly, however, I just feel like it goes in one head hole and out another.
Memory
At the corner of the main road, the north end of the straightaway, was an entrance to the pasture. The gate opened on the road that led past the oil wells and down past the bee hives and to the Back Tank. Between the gravel road and the gate, the earth was somewhat dug out, and a perfect place to play dolls. I used to take an old blanket – I think it was the pink bedspread from the double bed I used to share with my sister – and spread it out in the dip. Sometimes I’d take my little suitcase full of Barbie clothes, and my Barbies, and play dress up and act out little soap operas.
I think I had picnics out there, too. I’d pack up my lunch in my miniature Tupperware set, not forgetting the Kool-Aid.
One of the reasons I chose that spot was because it was quite clear of brush. Obviously, I was on a roadway, but even away from the road, the bushes were kept cleared. This was essential in keeping away from rattlesnakes.
Trailer Trash
I just came back from seeing Shoot ‘Em Up, a highly enjoyable film. What was not enjoyable were the overwhelming number of commercials shown prior to the film. Commercials before movies are, unfortunately, not a new trend, but the quantity now is more than ridiculous. I paid for my time to be there – what is Coke Zero or Hyundai giving me? (Ugh! and now I’ve fallen for their trap. Brand recognition. That’s what it’s all about.)
I was so angry that I decided that if they didn’t show five movie trailers (the only acceptable form of advertisement in the cinema) I would not enjoy the entire evening. Luckily for me, they actually showed SIX trailers.
On Labor Day, I saw Rocket Science at the Uptown. Before that movie, they showed at least six, maybe seven, product commercials and then only TWO trailers! Unacceptable!!