People*, Get Ready:

Here are some of the topics that this ancient collaborative blog will soon feature: David Lee Roth The Replacements and the tragedy of Bob Stinson My So-Called Life at 30 that's mostly a pretext to tell some gruesome tales of how adults and schools abandon children almost altogether What do you want to read about? (That's mostly rhetorical; I think the only people who did and will read this blog in old or new form are me myself and Errant Tiger and Mr. Dithers, my most esteemed collaborators, although these days we call them comrades.)

UPDATE!

Well, gosh, it's been a long time. And yet here we are. I have a bunch of writing that needs an outlet, and this might just be the place. (Truth be told? I made an entirely NEW blog for Spring 2025 but I can't access it somehow. I thought I was locked out of this one too, but here I am.) Does it matter if anyone reads this? Of course it does NOT. But I still want to build suspense.

By request

Not growing up reading C.S. Lewis + no patience for or interest in Christian symbolism = "I don't care about Narnia..."

Except, of course, for this.

We Return From Hiatus With A Provocative Claim:

Probably the best thing about Elvis Costello* is the fact that "Beyond Belief" is nearly impossible to sing.

Right?

Also, I suggest that while it is a Thing to see Elvis Costello Live, the album version is creepier.  I suppose it backs up my theory that he can't sing the full-on song live, with tricky rhythms and octave-plus spans.  So, for comparison:

*Feel free, in comments, to guess whether I am an Elvis Costello fan, and what my commentary about his TOTAL RACISM and etc. might read like.

Raiments of Crom; or, Hear the Lamentations of the Haberdasher

This

is the t-shirt I own which earns the second-most number of comments.

(This

earns the most, by far. My girlfriend loaned it to me with the fatal directive "You can't have it!" It is mine.)

This

has never once elicited a comment, which is a shame because it's BAD ASS. It's a detail of this

which is the amazing cover to one of the heaviest albums I own (when the grim day comes that FB changes me over to Timeline, that's sure as hell going to be my cover image). As Pitchfork says, "The thick, suffocating, undeniable heaviness is distorted to death and resurrected over and over again." And, as I noted on Facebook, it is everything I want my Lamentations of the Flame Princess campaign to look like.

The top shirt, the shirt of the Barbarian, is something I have mixed feelings about. It's an awesome image by Renato Casaro, clearly inspired by the most awesome fantasy/SF/naked lady illustrator ever, Frank Frazetta.

However, Frazetta's own Conan work is so awesome,

it's kind of a shame to wear a representation of the iconic barbarian/thief/king that features the features of Arnold Schwarzenegger.

(Though to be honest, if I had a shirt with that image, I would totally wear it).

In closing, here is my stab at a Hierarchy of Conan.

Stories by Robert E. Howard

Art by Frank Frazetta

Monnos (Conan LP)

Monnos (Conan t-shirt)

My Conan movie poster t-shirt

Groo the Wanderer

Conan the Barbarian (movie)

Conan the Destroyer (movie)

Stay Gold, Ponygirl

The rumors are true: Jay-Z and Beyonce totally did get a gold rocking horse for their baby*.

On one hand, of course, who cares?  They can do whatever they want with their money, and I guess the symbolism of the precious horse for the precious baby could be, you know, sweet.

On the other hand, celebrities provide opportunities for us to mock, judge, and otherwise measure our lives in comparison to theirs.  Unlike with our families, who also provide opportunities for us to MJAOMOLICTT, we rarely come out ahead.  But here, we might.

My problem with the gold rocking horse is that it is gross, and also seems uncomfortable.  Purely practical, this critique.

Other things this puts me in mind of, though?

The whole GIRLS AND HORSES thing.
The whole GIRLS AND GOLD thing.
The whole RACIST CRITIQUE OF HIP HOP PARENTING thing.
The whole MODERN PARENTING THROUGH CONSPICUOUS CONSUMPTION thing, both bling and the "morally justified" eco-capitalism, which is blingier than bling and more judgemental.

Will I elaborate on the above list?  Maybe in the comments thread.  That's the best part of this blog, or at least of its roots in Facebook snarkiness shared among the principle players here.




*Yes, I know I am late to the party on this.  I have a very taxing schedule of candy, leopard nail polish stickers, and procrastination, so cut me some slack.

Are you alive, or not? Is there nothing in your head?

Me, in 2003:

Another thing about Hall & Oates: "Rich Girl" was the first song I ever heard bad words in. Oddly, or perhaps not so, David Boudrieau, who pointed out that the word was "bitch," later became the driving force behind a two-night intrigue with Christian metal.

 The day before:

Anyway, the other musical high point of the trip out was listening to Hall & Oates with Aaron M. We were so excited over "Rich Girl" that we nearly missed exit 2. I don't understand why they have become an object of ridicule. It's good stuff: nice production, tight arrangements, some good lyrics (maybe a little cheesy in spots but hey, it was the 80s [and, in fact, the 70s]), and Daryl Hall had a great voice (and they inspired the Son of Sam!). Hey hipster - I can hear you laughing - fuck you. 

Both these posts - pulled from the nether regions of my blogging history - remain true. And every year - or six months - or more (or is it less?) - I spend at least a fortnight remembering these things, and that I once spent a pleasant Christmas in VT with their bassist, the late, great T-Bone Wolk. (All I remember about this is asking if he played on "She's Gone" and him telling me that was before his time. He was very nice about it, though).

My Top 5 Hall & Oates songs:

5. Private Eyes
4. Rich Girl
3. Say It Isn't So
2. She's Gone
1. Adult Education

HM: .15-.30 of this:

I should note that my deep, enduring love for Hall & Oates is based almost entirely on a single collection: 1983's Rock 'n Soul Part 1. (I had H20 and Big Bam Boom on tape but I don't remember anything about them other than the singles). If you take everything on that album, throw in "Method of Modern Love," "Out of Touch," "You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling," and "Everytime You Go Away" you have a collection of songs that - hyperbole aside - is nothing short of completely perfect.

You laugh. You see this

and you laugh. Get over it.

You have to look past the 80s. (They date back to the 70s, anyway). Forget about the trappings of the decade. Forget even that you were like 10 when they were big so it's OK to like them now because you didn't know any better then. Forget Yacht Rock, even. Listen.

Or, you know, don't. Because if you can't be moved by the big drums, dynamics, and pronunciation juxtaposition of "Adult Education"*

then you're not going to be moved by "She's Gone"

not even at 2:23 or 3:10.

And if you're not moved by what happens at 3:10 in "She's Gone" then you're probably not going to care about Daryl Hall's collaborations with Robert Fripp, and you really probably won't care about this

which is not technically Hall & Oates, but you probably don't care about that either. It's OK. You are a robot. Not the fun kind or the cute kind or the sexy kind but the kind that slogs grey-flannelled through the Unreal City. You're Stetson. Worse, you're T.S. Eliot, and those are pearls that were your eyes.

*This video totally knocks "Africa" out of the water. Just so you know.