Hahahaha Ryan is going to be in Advanced Fiction Writing with me. Oh, man.
I'm determined to post more often. I nearly reached Achewood-like proportions of dead time between posts. Speaking of which, read Roast Beef's blog. KraftWerk Thanksgiving. Brilliant.
Here are some other things going on:
I have an opinion article due tomorrow. Not sure what it'll be about. Something crazy, I think.
I asked some of my professors for recommendation letters. And I have to write personal statements. If there's one thing I hate (talking about), it's myself.
Joe's play is less than a week away.
Meeting for UD Monologues tomorrow night. I'm one of the directors.
One more wave of papers before the semester is over. Blah.
Aaaaand I'm really tired.
Let me give you a quick review of the new movie For Your Consideration. I saw it with my parents, Joe and Teresa over the Thanksgiving break up in Action, Ohio.
If you know the more recent Christopher Guest movies (Waiting for Guffman, A Mighty Wind and Best in Show), then you know the Guest style of filmmaking and sense of humor.
For Your Consideration, Guest's take on Hollywood period films and particularly the Oscars, is pretty well in line with those other movies. It chronicles the making of Home for Purim, about a Jewish family, and the Oscar buzz surrounding a few of the lead actors.
All the favorite actors are there: Catherine O'Hara is a middle-aged actress secretly dying for an Oscar; Harry Shearer is a vapid, smiley actor-turned-commercial-mascot-turned-actor; Eugene Levy is his pathetic, well-meaning agent; Christopher Guest is the airheaded director; John Michael Higgins (think Mentok the Mind-taker) is an overly confident publicist; Parker Posey is a young actress with a background in standup non-comedy (her one-woman show was No Penis Intended). But Jennifer Coolidge (Stifler's mom, that is) steals the show as the producer of the film. Coming off her role as a ditzy gold digger in Best in Show, Coolidge delivers the best single lines in the film ("It reminds me of my family. And I hate my family.").
While some of the familiar actors were relegated to smaller roles--particularly Michael Hitchcock and Don Lake as film reviewers and Bob Balaban and Michael McKean as the screenwriters--they were also very good. Balaban and McKean have their time to shine about halfway through the film, when marketing people and Guest as director start tampering with the script.
If you've seen all of the Guest movies, let me rank this one for you.
Waiting for Guffman - you really can't expect to beat this one. I like it a lot. It moves a little slowly, but it has the strongest, most ridiculous characters and songs.
For Your Consideration - nearly tied with
Best in Show - because they both have good characters but the jokes might be a little too subtle or smile-rather-than-laugh jokes.
A Mighty Wind - I just don't care for the Eugene Levy-Catherine O'Hara subplot too much. And last is
This Is Spinal Tap - although the problem might be that I haven't seen this in a long time.
Here's the bottom line: I think these movies are way, way funnier than anything Jack Black could turn out. And, judging from Elf and some other recent Will Farrell movies, I consider Guest's movies better because the plot is not painfully bad, nor is it used simply as a vehicle for jokes.
Grade: B+
Advantages: some hilarious jokes, great improvisation, good characters.
Disadvantages: no character quite reaches the Fred Willard, Catherine O'Hara, or Christopher Guest characters from Waiting for Guffman; doesn't use Willard, Balaban, McKean, or even Guest as much as I would like to see.
That's all for now. I promise to post again soon.
Love,
Steve
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Thursday, November 30, 2006
STORY TIME OKAY
Maaaaaaan I am so bad at this. Why can I not update more often?
I'd say it's because I'm busy, but I'm not sure that's right. Maybe I'm just not a good person?
Anyway, here's what's happening:
Vonnegut class is finished. It went well. As for writing the thesis: how the fuck will that work? What should it be about? These things are unknown.
All my other classes are okay. I have too many. Next semester is going to be great. I think. I've got a history class, Foreign Relations, which should be fascinating (depressing). Then there's a philosophy seminar, Civilization and Violence. Between the two of those, don't expect me to get any more optimistic about life. Also, Advanced Fiction Writing with Joe Pici. Only two students in that one, Holly Snyder and I. I will have the Hold Steady stuck in my head constantly when that class meets. You know why. Last, Spanish Conversation II. Add a one-hour Spanish service learning credit and a one-hour Berry Scholars capstone joke, and there you have it. Fourteen hours. The Promised Land.
Also I'll be tutoring, like now. And that's it.
BUT FIRST!
Joe Buemer's play is next week, the day before and the day after Christmas on Campus. I'm looking forward to it. I play an old Jew and a young Jew-convert-to-Christianity. It's going to be cool.
Then after that, there's Christmas break, which I will spend half in Ohio and half in Texas, meeting Teresa's Norwegian relatives. Hahahaha those people are from Norway.
Want to catch up on my Flyer News articles? Go to their web site and search my name. Recent articles include ones about police violence and Donald Rumsfeld. Woohoo.
And let me keep you entertained by starting something new. It's something I like to call "THIS IS A STORY I WROTE NOW WON'T YOU READ IT???" I will present stories from my ENG 284 class! It's like your'e there, except you don't know Neal Craft.
Here is the first one. It's short. Please remember this is fiction. Do not assume I am depressed because you read this story. Assume I am depressed because you assume everyone is depressed.
GOODBYE!
Love,
Steve
White Snow
She always arrived at six. James stood at the window, gazing beyond the corner store to the valley and the bridge. This was always his favorite view of the valley. After the first snow around Thanksgiving, leafless black branches crisscrossed the white valley like a Pollock painting. Snow coated the few rooftops below. The sun blazed, reflected brilliantly from the snow, brighter than sunlight.
Fifty-two minutes now. He paced, he tied and re-tied his shoes. He checked his hair in the mirror. His eye traveled along the streets, the snow-covered rooftops, the power lines silhouetted by snow. Later would come piles of snow, and ice, and slush from cars, but now his valley was clean and shining and beautiful.
Forty-four minutes. A bird perched on the window ledge.
Once they had seen seagulls on the beach. He knew seagulls soared and swooped but when he thought of them he remembered a day of strong, powerful wind, the ludicrous sight of two or three seagulls fighting valiantly, flapping and struggling and moving nowhere against the gusts. Isabel had laughed at the birds, but he wanted badly to grab them and carry them up the beach himself, wherever they were going.
Now six floors below a heavy woman with a hat hurried along the sidewalk. She passed under the streetlamp. Forty minutes, thirty-nine. He and Isabel had danced, not on these streets but others, him counting loudly to be heard over her giggles. One. Two. Three. Four-and. Their shadows had twisted, spinning, under the streetlamps. Isabel adored dancing. He was hesitant, uncertain.
Thirty-two minutes. The bird flew away, dropped, settled on a parked car. Thirty-two minutes, still.
Her books were always strewn across the back seat. Once he had tried to clean up for her, and she had scolded him. “Don’t mess with those,” she had told him, frowning. “I’ve got them in perfect order.” Thirty minutes. He had believed her for a few days. Then he shuffled them around once while he waited in the car. Nothing happened. Later he admitted he had tested her, and she screamed with laughter. As always, her happiness was childlike.
Twenty-three minutes. She always arrived at six. She always walked in with her bag, and her coat, and her umbrella, and her car keys jangling in the bowl by the door. She had been late sometimes before and then once she never came but now it was always at six. He knew she would arrive at six. Seventeen minutes. If you wait long enough, James thought. If you wait long enough and you flap furiously. She always she always always always came in at six with jangling keys and a smile like the sun. Her smile shone bright, blazing. It was the sun reflected by fresh snow.
But it got dimmer. Every light gets dimmer but not sunlight but her light dimmed and a cancer was inside of her and it grew and grew. Now her light was gone. The streetlamp below flickered on and it was the brightest light in his view.
James looked out the window at the valley and the clock ticked and ticked in the empty room.
I'd say it's because I'm busy, but I'm not sure that's right. Maybe I'm just not a good person?
Anyway, here's what's happening:
Vonnegut class is finished. It went well. As for writing the thesis: how the fuck will that work? What should it be about? These things are unknown.
All my other classes are okay. I have too many. Next semester is going to be great. I think. I've got a history class, Foreign Relations, which should be fascinating (depressing). Then there's a philosophy seminar, Civilization and Violence. Between the two of those, don't expect me to get any more optimistic about life. Also, Advanced Fiction Writing with Joe Pici. Only two students in that one, Holly Snyder and I. I will have the Hold Steady stuck in my head constantly when that class meets. You know why. Last, Spanish Conversation II. Add a one-hour Spanish service learning credit and a one-hour Berry Scholars capstone joke, and there you have it. Fourteen hours. The Promised Land.
Also I'll be tutoring, like now. And that's it.
BUT FIRST!
Joe Buemer's play is next week, the day before and the day after Christmas on Campus. I'm looking forward to it. I play an old Jew and a young Jew-convert-to-Christianity. It's going to be cool.
Then after that, there's Christmas break, which I will spend half in Ohio and half in Texas, meeting Teresa's Norwegian relatives. Hahahaha those people are from Norway.
Want to catch up on my Flyer News articles? Go to their web site and search my name. Recent articles include ones about police violence and Donald Rumsfeld. Woohoo.
And let me keep you entertained by starting something new. It's something I like to call "THIS IS A STORY I WROTE NOW WON'T YOU READ IT???" I will present stories from my ENG 284 class! It's like your'e there, except you don't know Neal Craft.
Here is the first one. It's short. Please remember this is fiction. Do not assume I am depressed because you read this story. Assume I am depressed because you assume everyone is depressed.
GOODBYE!
Love,
Steve
White Snow
She always arrived at six. James stood at the window, gazing beyond the corner store to the valley and the bridge. This was always his favorite view of the valley. After the first snow around Thanksgiving, leafless black branches crisscrossed the white valley like a Pollock painting. Snow coated the few rooftops below. The sun blazed, reflected brilliantly from the snow, brighter than sunlight.
Fifty-two minutes now. He paced, he tied and re-tied his shoes. He checked his hair in the mirror. His eye traveled along the streets, the snow-covered rooftops, the power lines silhouetted by snow. Later would come piles of snow, and ice, and slush from cars, but now his valley was clean and shining and beautiful.
Forty-four minutes. A bird perched on the window ledge.
Once they had seen seagulls on the beach. He knew seagulls soared and swooped but when he thought of them he remembered a day of strong, powerful wind, the ludicrous sight of two or three seagulls fighting valiantly, flapping and struggling and moving nowhere against the gusts. Isabel had laughed at the birds, but he wanted badly to grab them and carry them up the beach himself, wherever they were going.
Now six floors below a heavy woman with a hat hurried along the sidewalk. She passed under the streetlamp. Forty minutes, thirty-nine. He and Isabel had danced, not on these streets but others, him counting loudly to be heard over her giggles. One. Two. Three. Four-and. Their shadows had twisted, spinning, under the streetlamps. Isabel adored dancing. He was hesitant, uncertain.
Thirty-two minutes. The bird flew away, dropped, settled on a parked car. Thirty-two minutes, still.
Her books were always strewn across the back seat. Once he had tried to clean up for her, and she had scolded him. “Don’t mess with those,” she had told him, frowning. “I’ve got them in perfect order.” Thirty minutes. He had believed her for a few days. Then he shuffled them around once while he waited in the car. Nothing happened. Later he admitted he had tested her, and she screamed with laughter. As always, her happiness was childlike.
Twenty-three minutes. She always arrived at six. She always walked in with her bag, and her coat, and her umbrella, and her car keys jangling in the bowl by the door. She had been late sometimes before and then once she never came but now it was always at six. He knew she would arrive at six. Seventeen minutes. If you wait long enough, James thought. If you wait long enough and you flap furiously. She always she always always always came in at six with jangling keys and a smile like the sun. Her smile shone bright, blazing. It was the sun reflected by fresh snow.
But it got dimmer. Every light gets dimmer but not sunlight but her light dimmed and a cancer was inside of her and it grew and grew. Now her light was gone. The streetlamp below flickered on and it was the brightest light in his view.
James looked out the window at the valley and the clock ticked and ticked in the empty room.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Hold Steady fails to live up to their name. And it's not so hard to live up to that name.
I'm trying to settle down.
See. The Hold Steady came out with a new album, Boys and Girls in America (click to listen). It came out today, Tuesday, October 3.
And you know I love The Hold Steady.
But I don't know what to say about the album. It has some really strong songs, and it has some absolutely embarrassing songs. Let's break it down.
I would still say their best song is "The Swish," the second track on their first album, The Hold Steady Almost Killed Me. Yet their second album, Separation Sunday, was probably stronger than Almost Killed Me start to finish. It doesn't quite hit the highs, or the lows either.
This one never hits Almost Killed Me's highs, but it sure does strike new lows.
The best song is the first one, "Stuck Between Stations." It really rocks. It's got a Springsteen kind of feel, and some great Craig Finn lyrics.
Then "Chips Ahoy!," the second song, keeps it up. I like it, although I was not excited at first. It's a bit of a change, and it signals the depths to which the album will fall. This song is good, but ones like it aren't. Backup singers, hints of pop...this is not the Hold Steady of "Hostile, Mass." But just you wait.
Follow "Chips Ahoy!" with the swinging "Hot Soft Lights," which has awesome Craig Finn drug lyrics but this sort of swing + wah guitar that I'm not sure I believe in. Listen, you guys rock. So just fucking rock.
But "Same Kooks" is great. Fast blues rock. Craig Finn's lyrics get all confusing and crazy. I love this one about as much as "Stuck Between Stations." It's all sloppy and racing and bizarre. It works perfectly.
Okay, let's pretend the album ends there. I give it an A. Great work. Short, but every second counts.
Oh, what, more songs? And what's that? They're shameful? Fuck.
"First Night" got a ton of praise on The Hold Steady's MySpace page, so I was interested in hearing it. That was a mistake. The song sits there like a fucking lump, begging to be put out of its misery. It's not a good idea to write "Tears in Heaven" about your drug trips and failed relationships. Just a little hint there. Take "Sketchy Metal" on Almost Killed Me and stick a little more whine in it, and you've got "First Night." I could not be more disappointed. It tries to pick up toward the end, but I don't buy it. Chanting "Boys and girls in America" over and over just reminds me that this isn't Almost Killed Me or Separation Sunday. I DO like "When they kiss they spit white noise," though. Thanks for saying it eight times.
Next we have "Party Pit," which does have awesome drums. Otherwise, though, it just doesn't get off the ground and rock. I like the Craig Finn repetitiveness, and I usually think it's cool when he goes back over the same themes, but this seems like a little bit of a stretch. Too much Billy Joel, not enough fucking rock and roll, guys. Stop being in love and start doing drugs. "Gonna walk around and drink some more"? Really? Then do it and stop singing about the girl at the party pit.
"You Can Make Him Like You" is okay. I'll give it this: it's a good strong tempo, and it doesn't not rock. It doesn't quite rock, either, though. It just sort of bounces along. Craig Finn's lyrics are a little better on this one, though. This one is acceptable, but not great.
"Massive Nights" is really good, though. It's got a "Charlemagne in Sweatpants" feel, and the lyrics are great. It's about high school dances on drugs. Craig Finn lumbers around lyrically, making his crazy claims. I like it a lot. This one goes a long way to redeeming the weak second half of this album. Once again, the swing feel and the backup singers show up, but I can handle it. "She had the gun in her mouth and she was shooting up at her dreams when the chaperone said that we'd been crowned the King and the Queen" might be, lyrically, the best end to a Hold Steady song yet.
Don't take advantage of that momentum, or anything, guys. Just hit us in the face with something like "Citrus." Something, you know, abhorrently shitty. "I feel Jesus in the tenderness of honest, nervous lovers"? Fuck, man. Shut up. Do not tell me that. That is pretty much anti-rocking. And thanks for bringing up "fog and love and faithless fear" again. I appreciate you shitting directly on "Hostile, Mass.," which is one of my favorites. This song must be skipped every time you listen to this album. It's slow, it's boring, it's pointless, it's a big fucking rock in the middle of this river. It's more like a dam.
"Chillout Tent:" Do not listen to this song. Skip straight from "Massive Nights" to "Southtown Girls," or maybe from "Massive Nights" to a different album. What the fuck, guys? Why the different vocals in the chorus? Did you really believe this was a good idea, or did you owe some people a favor? My soul hurts. I listened to it once start to finish, and I pledge that will be the last time.
Last is "Southtown Girls." It starts "Southtown girls won't blow you away," and Craig Finn and whoever the fuck is singing along with him are pretty much exactly right. It's a song with cool lyrics in the verse and a flat-out annoying chorus. I swear to God The Hold Steady is from Minnesota, not Alabama, so get this country shit out of here.
I don't know what to say. The first part of the album gets an A. If it included "Massive Nights" it would be an A+. The second half of the album? Seriously, it gets a D. The thing just goes way off track. I expect the Hold Steady to rock hard and give Craig Finn lots of space to shout. Instead it feels cramped and forced, with all these ballad-country-swing bull shit songs clogging it up.
If you're starting on The Hold Steady, start with Almost Killed Me. If you think it's too plain, move on to Separation Sunday. If you think it rocks too hard, I guess Boys and Girls in America is for you.
Grade: C+
See. The Hold Steady came out with a new album, Boys and Girls in America (click to listen). It came out today, Tuesday, October 3.
And you know I love The Hold Steady.
But I don't know what to say about the album. It has some really strong songs, and it has some absolutely embarrassing songs. Let's break it down.
I would still say their best song is "The Swish," the second track on their first album, The Hold Steady Almost Killed Me. Yet their second album, Separation Sunday, was probably stronger than Almost Killed Me start to finish. It doesn't quite hit the highs, or the lows either.
This one never hits Almost Killed Me's highs, but it sure does strike new lows.
The best song is the first one, "Stuck Between Stations." It really rocks. It's got a Springsteen kind of feel, and some great Craig Finn lyrics.
Then "Chips Ahoy!," the second song, keeps it up. I like it, although I was not excited at first. It's a bit of a change, and it signals the depths to which the album will fall. This song is good, but ones like it aren't. Backup singers, hints of pop...this is not the Hold Steady of "Hostile, Mass." But just you wait.
Follow "Chips Ahoy!" with the swinging "Hot Soft Lights," which has awesome Craig Finn drug lyrics but this sort of swing + wah guitar that I'm not sure I believe in. Listen, you guys rock. So just fucking rock.
But "Same Kooks" is great. Fast blues rock. Craig Finn's lyrics get all confusing and crazy. I love this one about as much as "Stuck Between Stations." It's all sloppy and racing and bizarre. It works perfectly.
Okay, let's pretend the album ends there. I give it an A. Great work. Short, but every second counts.
Oh, what, more songs? And what's that? They're shameful? Fuck.
"First Night" got a ton of praise on The Hold Steady's MySpace page, so I was interested in hearing it. That was a mistake. The song sits there like a fucking lump, begging to be put out of its misery. It's not a good idea to write "Tears in Heaven" about your drug trips and failed relationships. Just a little hint there. Take "Sketchy Metal" on Almost Killed Me and stick a little more whine in it, and you've got "First Night." I could not be more disappointed. It tries to pick up toward the end, but I don't buy it. Chanting "Boys and girls in America" over and over just reminds me that this isn't Almost Killed Me or Separation Sunday. I DO like "When they kiss they spit white noise," though. Thanks for saying it eight times.
Next we have "Party Pit," which does have awesome drums. Otherwise, though, it just doesn't get off the ground and rock. I like the Craig Finn repetitiveness, and I usually think it's cool when he goes back over the same themes, but this seems like a little bit of a stretch. Too much Billy Joel, not enough fucking rock and roll, guys. Stop being in love and start doing drugs. "Gonna walk around and drink some more"? Really? Then do it and stop singing about the girl at the party pit.
"You Can Make Him Like You" is okay. I'll give it this: it's a good strong tempo, and it doesn't not rock. It doesn't quite rock, either, though. It just sort of bounces along. Craig Finn's lyrics are a little better on this one, though. This one is acceptable, but not great.
"Massive Nights" is really good, though. It's got a "Charlemagne in Sweatpants" feel, and the lyrics are great. It's about high school dances on drugs. Craig Finn lumbers around lyrically, making his crazy claims. I like it a lot. This one goes a long way to redeeming the weak second half of this album. Once again, the swing feel and the backup singers show up, but I can handle it. "She had the gun in her mouth and she was shooting up at her dreams when the chaperone said that we'd been crowned the King and the Queen" might be, lyrically, the best end to a Hold Steady song yet.
Don't take advantage of that momentum, or anything, guys. Just hit us in the face with something like "Citrus." Something, you know, abhorrently shitty. "I feel Jesus in the tenderness of honest, nervous lovers"? Fuck, man. Shut up. Do not tell me that. That is pretty much anti-rocking. And thanks for bringing up "fog and love and faithless fear" again. I appreciate you shitting directly on "Hostile, Mass.," which is one of my favorites. This song must be skipped every time you listen to this album. It's slow, it's boring, it's pointless, it's a big fucking rock in the middle of this river. It's more like a dam.
"Chillout Tent:" Do not listen to this song. Skip straight from "Massive Nights" to "Southtown Girls," or maybe from "Massive Nights" to a different album. What the fuck, guys? Why the different vocals in the chorus? Did you really believe this was a good idea, or did you owe some people a favor? My soul hurts. I listened to it once start to finish, and I pledge that will be the last time.
Last is "Southtown Girls." It starts "Southtown girls won't blow you away," and Craig Finn and whoever the fuck is singing along with him are pretty much exactly right. It's a song with cool lyrics in the verse and a flat-out annoying chorus. I swear to God The Hold Steady is from Minnesota, not Alabama, so get this country shit out of here.
I don't know what to say. The first part of the album gets an A. If it included "Massive Nights" it would be an A+. The second half of the album? Seriously, it gets a D. The thing just goes way off track. I expect the Hold Steady to rock hard and give Craig Finn lots of space to shout. Instead it feels cramped and forced, with all these ballad-country-swing bull shit songs clogging it up.
If you're starting on The Hold Steady, start with Almost Killed Me. If you think it's too plain, move on to Separation Sunday. If you think it rocks too hard, I guess Boys and Girls in America is for you.
Grade: C+
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
The world according to Steve.
Oh my God guys I haven't posted since September 18.
Let's see what's happening in the world here...
- Bush refused to meet with President Ahmadinejad of Iran. I just spelled his name from memory, because I am awesome. My theory is Bush didn't want to acknowledge that American support for Israel is the cause of all problems everywhere.
- Coup in Thailand. My theory is that the U.S. backed it as part of the War on Terror.
- Protests in Hungary. My theory is that a lying Socialist government is better than an honest capitalist one.
- Pope insulted some Muslims with a centuries-old quote. My theory is that the Pope is an evil German gnome, and if his point was lost on the Muslim masses then he needs to make his point more clearly. Another part of my theory is that "sorry you reacted poorly" is another insult, not an apology.
- Government report says the Iraq War is creating more terrorists, but would make the U.S. much safer if the U.S. eventually wins. My theory is that the U.S. cannot eventually win because the democratic government will come to be seen as a puppet, especially if politicians on both sides of the aisle try to censor that government regarding Israel.
Okay, now a fun game: which of my theories was I really serious about?
Scroll down for a hint.
(Hint: all of them.)
Here's an article: http://www.flyernews.com/article.php?section=Opinions&volume=54&issue=7&artnum=02.
I like the new Opinions section editor, Kevin Timms. His headlines are pretty good. Although he wrote a news section article this time, it got me all confused. Like when Fox News interrupts the O'Reilly Factor (opinion) with a two-minute news summary (actual news). You know, just to blur the line as much as possible.
In other news: I got lots of shit to do. GRE, grad school, school right now, thesis, Joe Beumer's play, lots of shit. I gotta get started on this presentation for Rhetorical Criticism. You know, the one due tomorrow.
As terrible as they are, go Browns.
Love,
Steve
Let's see what's happening in the world here...
- Bush refused to meet with President Ahmadinejad of Iran. I just spelled his name from memory, because I am awesome. My theory is Bush didn't want to acknowledge that American support for Israel is the cause of all problems everywhere.
- Coup in Thailand. My theory is that the U.S. backed it as part of the War on Terror.
- Protests in Hungary. My theory is that a lying Socialist government is better than an honest capitalist one.
- Pope insulted some Muslims with a centuries-old quote. My theory is that the Pope is an evil German gnome, and if his point was lost on the Muslim masses then he needs to make his point more clearly. Another part of my theory is that "sorry you reacted poorly" is another insult, not an apology.
- Government report says the Iraq War is creating more terrorists, but would make the U.S. much safer if the U.S. eventually wins. My theory is that the U.S. cannot eventually win because the democratic government will come to be seen as a puppet, especially if politicians on both sides of the aisle try to censor that government regarding Israel.
Okay, now a fun game: which of my theories was I really serious about?
Scroll down for a hint.
(Hint: all of them.)
Here's an article: http://www.flyernews.com/article.php?section=Opinions&volume=54&issue=7&artnum=02.
I like the new Opinions section editor, Kevin Timms. His headlines are pretty good. Although he wrote a news section article this time, it got me all confused. Like when Fox News interrupts the O'Reilly Factor (opinion) with a two-minute news summary (actual news). You know, just to blur the line as much as possible.
In other news: I got lots of shit to do. GRE, grad school, school right now, thesis, Joe Beumer's play, lots of shit. I gotta get started on this presentation for Rhetorical Criticism. You know, the one due tomorrow.
As terrible as they are, go Browns.
Love,
Steve
Monday, September 18, 2006
Not exactly a roaring comeback.
Oh, Christ. I don't even know where to start.
I haven't posted since the end of July. Fuck, man.
All right, look. I have shit to do. Classes, and shit. Sorry, okay?
I've written a couple articles for Flyer News, if you didn't know. Nothing too crazy yet. One about bin Laden and why we should stop supporting Israel (hint: it will prevent future terrorist attacks), and one about the Chilean school protests and how that will never happen in the U.S.
I think for my next one I'm going to describe how thrilled I would be with a third party. Maybe something else. I'm not sure.
It seems like I work all the time. I don't think I'm being a baby about it, either.
Also, I love Guitar Hero, the video game for Playstation 2. Aaron and Stew and everybody across the street own it. It is wonderful. I like it.
Okay I'll put up those two articles for my non-UD friends (i.e. Hoffy) then I'll think up something to write here next time.
If you have a question for Zteve, fire away, motherfucker.
Love,
Steve
http://www.flyernews.com/article.php?volume=54&issue=3§ion=Opinions&artnum=05
http://www.flyernews.com/article.php?volume=54&issue=5§ion=Opinions&artnum=02
I haven't posted since the end of July. Fuck, man.
All right, look. I have shit to do. Classes, and shit. Sorry, okay?
I've written a couple articles for Flyer News, if you didn't know. Nothing too crazy yet. One about bin Laden and why we should stop supporting Israel (hint: it will prevent future terrorist attacks), and one about the Chilean school protests and how that will never happen in the U.S.
I think for my next one I'm going to describe how thrilled I would be with a third party. Maybe something else. I'm not sure.
It seems like I work all the time. I don't think I'm being a baby about it, either.
Also, I love Guitar Hero, the video game for Playstation 2. Aaron and Stew and everybody across the street own it. It is wonderful. I like it.
Okay I'll put up those two articles for my non-UD friends (i.e. Hoffy) then I'll think up something to write here next time.
If you have a question for Zteve, fire away, motherfucker.
Love,
Steve
http://www.flyernews.com/article.php?volume=54&issue=3§ion=Opinions&artnum=05
http://www.flyernews.com/article.php?volume=54&issue=5§ion=Opinions&artnum=02
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Zteve puts his foot down.
Man, no way am I answering like eight or nine questions right now.
But ZTEVE might!
But he probably won't.
But he might!
Dear Zteve,
Pirates or ninjas?
This seemingly simple question has been whispered in lecture halls throughout history, but I have never heard a convincing argument for either side. I am hoping you could bring closure to this debate. And what about Chuck Norris?
-Incognito in Indiana
Hahahaha your question is very very funny. I suppose. Now, I don't believe it's been "whispered in lecture halls throughout history," as it clearly reflects like sort of false irony prominent in VH1's "I Love the ___" and ironic t-shirts of all kinds. Something about the obsession with pirates, ninjas, and Jesus Christ ESPECIALLY Chuck Fucking Norris rings of this sort of sly, let-me-show-you-how-clever-I-am fake irony that makes me want to choke a kitten until--
BUT WAIT! Maybe I don't understand something here.
I believe this is an advice column. Zteve, is this not an advice column?
Fuckin', it definitely is an advice column. And your question? Oh, it don't ask for no advice.
The same is true for:
i want to know what race Jesus was
-perplexed from Parma
As well as:
Zteve-
Does God exist?
-Doubting in Dayton
And I know I'm a goddamn genius, but let's try to limit ourselves to advice, all right, people? If I'm going to be answering every little common knowledge question that crosses your minds, I'm not going to have time for all the important work I have to do around here. Please, in the future, phrase all questions as advice questions. Otherwise, I just can't answer you. I'm very sorry (all three are terrible, black, no).
Moving on!
Dear Zteve,
I really want to be in a rock'n roll band, but have no instrumental skills whatsoever. How do I trick my friends into forming a band with me, and allowing me to be the lead singer? Or, should I just learn an instrument (like I've said I would for 2 years)?
-Daydreaming in Dayton
p.s. HOW DO YOU TYPE WITH BOXING GLOVES ON YOUR HANDS?
Man, cool out, "Daydreaming"! Have you been living under a rock the past ten years? People with no talent are all the rage these days! Admitting you can't play an instrument is only the first step on your trip to success.
As I see it, you have two options here: "image" or "originality." Let's take an example in each category.
First, originality. I could bring up some obvious folks, like Radiohead, the Mars Volta, or even System of a Down as groups that might have a little talent sprinkled in, but get by on the fact that they are more inane, bizarre or ridiculous than anyone else out there. But I'll take shots at someone who I personally like very much; yet I still wonder why he is famous. I speak, of course, of Beck.
Now, I realize Beck can play lots of instruments. I believe he usually plays every guitar, bass and drum part on his albums. But none of these things is really all that notable, except that he manages to sound the same in many songs. What is outstanding about Beck? What is his element of originality? His absolutely ludicrous lyrics, naturally. Look: any fool can have two turntables and a microphone; it takes a true genius to go ahead and say so. The same is true, of course, for having a devil's haircut in one's mind. Only a brilliant lyricist would instruct us to move through the room like ambulance drivers.
Are you getting the point here, "Daydreaming"?
1. His brilliant lyrics really aren't that great. It's pretty much a musical word salad.
2. The man is high.
I'm not advocating the use of drugs. I'm only asking you to take Beck's example into consideration. He built his success on drugs and "originality," and I believe you can too.
On the other hand, success via image might be safer for your long-term health. Groups in this category vary widely, as there is a group or two for every possible social subset in your standard American high school. Let's keep it simple, shall we, Fall Out Boy? Once again, I've picked an artist whose music I occasionally enjoy, but let's face it: Fall Out Boy doesn't do anything Sum-41 and Blink-182 weren't doing five years ago. Their trick is to appear new, fresh, and exciting, with the help of a billion-dollar record company budget. How can you take advantage of the "image" tactic for success? Simple: you need to predict the next thing high school kids are going to be into, and ride that wave. In fact, maybe you could still ride the current wave of emo hair, tight t-shirts, and MySpace-like poutiness, if you move quickly.
In summary, my suggestion is to create a persona, and let the talent flock to you.
Rock on, and God bless you!
Dear Zteve,
I have been a hockey fan all my life, my favourite organization being the Ottawa Senators.
I am confused about something that maybe you can clear up.
What is the difference between "setting the tone" and "sending a message"? Oh, yeah, and who works harder--defensemen or forwards?
Thanks.
Confused in Kamloops
"Confused" (somehow my whole family tries to pass as Canadian):
I too have been ("bean") a hockey fan all my life, but my favourite organization ("organ-EYE-zation") has always been ("bean") Les Habitants de Montréal ("Habs").
The difference between setting the tone and sending a message is simple. Setting the tone works within a game, and therefore takes place early in the game, usually in the first period. It notifies the team you are against ("uh-GAINST", not "uh-GHENST") that your team will be the more physical, dominant team.
On the other hand, sending a message takes place in one game but is meant to influence later games. It is most often happens during playoff series, and occurs late in games. Its message is that you might be losing this one, but you hate the other team passionately and wish for bad things to happen to them.
As for the position that works the hardest, let's put it this way: the hardest-workin' man in hockey is plainly Vancouver Canucks right-winger Anson Carter, as you can see from the picture. So I guess forwards work harder than defensemen.
Thanks for your great question!
FUCK only after writing all of this do I realize this questions asks no advice from me! MAY GOD NOT BLESS YOU AND YOUR EVIL QUESTION!!!!!
Aaaaaand next!
Dear Zteve,
I installed Linux on my computer today. Should I find an underground dwelling in which to live and castrate myself immediately?
-1337 g33k
"Numbers Fellow:" What a fascinating question!
Now, I'll have you know I'm no old pen-and-paper No-Technology Nancy. I do believe I have an understanding of this modern-technology business. Christmas last, I did receive a Cellular Telephone, which I use regularly whilst polishing my typewriter, Cranking the Automobile, Stoking the fire, Abusing the maid, and limiting the rights of the Negro race, among my other Activities. While I do not own one of my own, I am familiar with the "iPod" device, which I do believe can capture more jungle rhythms, Singer-Persons, and jive bands than any previous device. In essence, I would describe myself as a Modern Man, fully capable of those Activities and Interactions necessary in our Industrious, Modern World.
Yet I cannot grasp your Query. Is this "Linux" of which you speak some form of Communist or Democratic Propaganda? Has it Heretical, Anti-Western, or Darwinist elements? Does it serve a Master beyond the Queen or our Lord? Is it Pacifist; that is, does it Oppose our magnificent military Might?
If the reply is Yes, or Yea, I would indeed recommend you retire beneath God's Earth. Yet it appears to me you are of Lower Breeding, without the Merits, Talents or Benefits of the well-bred among us. As such, you and Your Type should be relegated beneath our Soil, where you may live your days in humble Service to Our Class. I recommend you take your Godless Linux Device, as well, before it becomes the Target of our next Hunting Expedition.
Good Cheer and May God's Blessing go with your Rotten Soul!
Zteve has time for one more question, ladies and gentlemen. And please, let's make it a disgusting one. Ah, perfect!
But ZTEVE might!
But he probably won't.
But he might!
Dear Zteve,
Pirates or ninjas?
This seemingly simple question has been whispered in lecture halls throughout history, but I have never heard a convincing argument for either side. I am hoping you could bring closure to this debate. And what about Chuck Norris?
-Incognito in Indiana
Hahahaha your question is very very funny. I suppose. Now, I don't believe it's been "whispered in lecture halls throughout history," as it clearly reflects like sort of false irony prominent in VH1's "I Love the ___" and ironic t-shirts of all kinds. Something about the obsession with pirates, ninjas, and Jesus Christ ESPECIALLY Chuck Fucking Norris rings of this sort of sly, let-me-show-you-how-clever-I-am fake irony that makes me want to choke a kitten until--
BUT WAIT! Maybe I don't understand something here.
I believe this is an advice column. Zteve, is this not an advice column?
Fuckin', it definitely is an advice column. And your question? Oh, it don't ask for no advice.
The same is true for:
i want to know what race Jesus was
-perplexed from Parma
As well as:
Zteve-
Does God exist?
-Doubting in Dayton
And I know I'm a goddamn genius, but let's try to limit ourselves to advice, all right, people? If I'm going to be answering every little common knowledge question that crosses your minds, I'm not going to have time for all the important work I have to do around here. Please, in the future, phrase all questions as advice questions. Otherwise, I just can't answer you. I'm very sorry (all three are terrible, black, no).
Moving on!
Dear Zteve,
I really want to be in a rock'n roll band, but have no instrumental skills whatsoever. How do I trick my friends into forming a band with me, and allowing me to be the lead singer? Or, should I just learn an instrument (like I've said I would for 2 years)?
-Daydreaming in Dayton
p.s. HOW DO YOU TYPE WITH BOXING GLOVES ON YOUR HANDS?
Man, cool out, "Daydreaming"! Have you been living under a rock the past ten years? People with no talent are all the rage these days! Admitting you can't play an instrument is only the first step on your trip to success.
As I see it, you have two options here: "image" or "originality." Let's take an example in each category.
First, originality. I could bring up some obvious folks, like Radiohead, the Mars Volta, or even System of a Down as groups that might have a little talent sprinkled in, but get by on the fact that they are more inane, bizarre or ridiculous than anyone else out there. But I'll take shots at someone who I personally like very much; yet I still wonder why he is famous. I speak, of course, of Beck.
Now, I realize Beck can play lots of instruments. I believe he usually plays every guitar, bass and drum part on his albums. But none of these things is really all that notable, except that he manages to sound the same in many songs. What is outstanding about Beck? What is his element of originality? His absolutely ludicrous lyrics, naturally. Look: any fool can have two turntables and a microphone; it takes a true genius to go ahead and say so. The same is true, of course, for having a devil's haircut in one's mind. Only a brilliant lyricist would instruct us to move through the room like ambulance drivers.
Are you getting the point here, "Daydreaming"?
1. His brilliant lyrics really aren't that great. It's pretty much a musical word salad.
2. The man is high.
I'm not advocating the use of drugs. I'm only asking you to take Beck's example into consideration. He built his success on drugs and "originality," and I believe you can too.
On the other hand, success via image might be safer for your long-term health. Groups in this category vary widely, as there is a group or two for every possible social subset in your standard American high school. Let's keep it simple, shall we, Fall Out Boy? Once again, I've picked an artist whose music I occasionally enjoy, but let's face it: Fall Out Boy doesn't do anything Sum-41 and Blink-182 weren't doing five years ago. Their trick is to appear new, fresh, and exciting, with the help of a billion-dollar record company budget. How can you take advantage of the "image" tactic for success? Simple: you need to predict the next thing high school kids are going to be into, and ride that wave. In fact, maybe you could still ride the current wave of emo hair, tight t-shirts, and MySpace-like poutiness, if you move quickly.
In summary, my suggestion is to create a persona, and let the talent flock to you.
Rock on, and God bless you!
Dear Zteve,
I have been a hockey fan all my life, my favourite organization being the Ottawa Senators.
I am confused about something that maybe you can clear up.
What is the difference between "setting the tone" and "sending a message"? Oh, yeah, and who works harder--defensemen or forwards?
Thanks.
Confused in Kamloops
"Confused" (somehow my whole family tries to pass as Canadian):
I too have been ("bean") a hockey fan all my life, but my favourite organization ("organ-EYE-zation") has always been ("bean") Les Habitants de Montréal ("Habs").
The difference between setting the tone and sending a message is simple. Setting the tone works within a game, and therefore takes place early in the game, usually in the first period. It notifies the team you are against ("uh-GAINST", not "uh-GHENST") that your team will be the more physical, dominant team.
On the other hand, sending a message takes place in one game but is meant to influence later games. It is most often happens during playoff series, and occurs late in games. Its message is that you might be losing this one, but you hate the other team passionately and wish for bad things to happen to them.
As for the position that works the hardest, let's put it this way: the hardest-workin' man in hockey is plainly Vancouver Canucks right-winger Anson Carter, as you can see from the picture. So I guess forwards work harder than defensemen.
Thanks for your great question!
FUCK only after writing all of this do I realize this questions asks no advice from me! MAY GOD NOT BLESS YOU AND YOUR EVIL QUESTION!!!!!
Aaaaaand next!
Dear Zteve,
I installed Linux on my computer today. Should I find an underground dwelling in which to live and castrate myself immediately?
-1337 g33k
"Numbers Fellow:" What a fascinating question!
Now, I'll have you know I'm no old pen-and-paper No-Technology Nancy. I do believe I have an understanding of this modern-technology business. Christmas last, I did receive a Cellular Telephone, which I use regularly whilst polishing my typewriter, Cranking the Automobile, Stoking the fire, Abusing the maid, and limiting the rights of the Negro race, among my other Activities. While I do not own one of my own, I am familiar with the "iPod" device, which I do believe can capture more jungle rhythms, Singer-Persons, and jive bands than any previous device. In essence, I would describe myself as a Modern Man, fully capable of those Activities and Interactions necessary in our Industrious, Modern World.
Yet I cannot grasp your Query. Is this "Linux" of which you speak some form of Communist or Democratic Propaganda? Has it Heretical, Anti-Western, or Darwinist elements? Does it serve a Master beyond the Queen or our Lord? Is it Pacifist; that is, does it Oppose our magnificent military Might?
If the reply is Yes, or Yea, I would indeed recommend you retire beneath God's Earth. Yet it appears to me you are of Lower Breeding, without the Merits, Talents or Benefits of the well-bred among us. As such, you and Your Type should be relegated beneath our Soil, where you may live your days in humble Service to Our Class. I recommend you take your Godless Linux Device, as well, before it becomes the Target of our next Hunting Expedition.
Good Cheer and May God's Blessing go with your Rotten Soul!
Zteve has time for one more question, ladies and gentlemen. And please, let's make it a disgusting one. Ah, perfect!
Dear Zteve,
I made a bet with a friend back when I wsa an innocent little pre-collegiate girl that if we weren't "attached" to someone by senior year, that I would "do him up the ass with a double-ended dildo while our Indian friend commentated". Well, it's that time, and I don't think either of us are attached to anyone so do I have to hold true to my bet?
Nervous Nympho
You seem to have some bizarre understanding of the word "bet" that I do not. Here is a bet, to me: "I do hereby declare I shall Consume this entire Package of Oreos before the likes of You." Fuck, sorry. I'm still writing old school. "I'll eat these Oreos faster than you." "No, you won't." Then the two people eat the Oreos, and the one who eats them faster wins some sort of prize or something.
Now, your "bet": you will perform anal sex with a sex aid. That appears to be it. Where, exactly, is the "betting element"? For example, did he bet you wouldn't do it? That would form an actual bet, and one you could go ahead and lose if you want. But you do need something debated or contested to form a bet. So IS there one?? It seems pretty important to me. If there is no actual "bet," I would call this an agreement, not a bet. As an agreement, it can be broken if you and your friend agree to forget it. This would be the sanest and safest route. If, for his own reasons, he insists on fulfilling the agreement, then maybe in the future you should take more care to NOT agree to things like this.
In any case, use a lubricant, and God bless!
That's all this time. Send your questions IN THE FORM OF AN ADVICE QUESTION POOPY HEADS to Zteve today!
Coming up next: I'm debating something. You might know that smiley freak Ken Jennings got a little fresh regarding the show Jeopardy! and its host, Canuck Alex Trebek. Now I don't roll with that. It's that simple. You don't talk nothing about Trebek, you fucking twig. I will break you. And in my next post, I just might take Jennings to school. For my brother Trebek. After all, a website taught me how to burn you bad, you trivia bitch. Prepare yourself, Jennings. It's on! It's on! It's on!
Love,
Steve
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Man, why you even got to do a thing?
I have to break in and put the bizarre popularity of Zteve on hold for just a minute here. There's something not important to tell you.
Achewood is really funny. Matt showed me this website a few years ago, but I was way too ignorant to notice its brilliance. Now, to make up for it, I'll pimp it to you, dear readers.
The basic cast is Philippe, Ray, Roast Beef (also here, here, and here with Ray), Cornelius, Pat (as described by Roast Beef), Nice Pete (please read the following few strips, too), Lie Bot (with Todd), Todd, Teodor, and Lyle. Then there are a few others as well.
Please, please start at the beginning, as I did, and just start reading. The characters are absolutely hilarious. If you get bored, try jumping to my favorite character, Roast Beef, in his exploits. His first, "Beef on Moon" in the "Jump to a Story Arc" menu, is really funny. He is so damn depressing.
I predict Tom Hanlon will love these comic strips. I predict most of you will think they're not very funny, and I challenge you to put a real effort into reading them. They are about ten times funnier than any strip printed in the newspaper.
Okay, enjoy that. Zteve will triumphantly return to answer your questions when he ACTUALLY GETS SOME GOOD QUESTIONS.
No, really, expect that post within a couple days.
Love,
Steve
Achewood is really funny. Matt showed me this website a few years ago, but I was way too ignorant to notice its brilliance. Now, to make up for it, I'll pimp it to you, dear readers.
The basic cast is Philippe, Ray, Roast Beef (also here, here, and here with Ray), Cornelius, Pat (as described by Roast Beef), Nice Pete (please read the following few strips, too), Lie Bot (with Todd), Todd, Teodor, and Lyle. Then there are a few others as well.
Please, please start at the beginning, as I did, and just start reading. The characters are absolutely hilarious. If you get bored, try jumping to my favorite character, Roast Beef, in his exploits. His first, "Beef on Moon" in the "Jump to a Story Arc" menu, is really funny. He is so damn depressing.
I predict Tom Hanlon will love these comic strips. I predict most of you will think they're not very funny, and I challenge you to put a real effort into reading them. They are about ten times funnier than any strip printed in the newspaper.
Okay, enjoy that. Zteve will triumphantly return to answer your questions when he ACTUALLY GETS SOME GOOD QUESTIONS.
No, really, expect that post within a couple days.
Love,
Steve
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Zteve Zays a few more things.
The first issue of Zteve Zays, the previous post, was such an immense smash hit that I'm doing it again!! Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Zteve!
Dear Zteve Zays,
I've been seeing this girl for the past six to eight months now. We're mutually attracted, we converse well, we have a healthy sex life, etc.
We're at the point in the relationship now where it feels like something more should happen: we should stay together more often, we should meet each others' parents, etc. I guess we're both dragging our feet.
I guess at the root of the issue is that bachelor(ette) hood is our last sign of adolescence. We are both in our late twenties and relatively satisfied with our careers. We're both tacitly acknowledging that if we end up married, we will become suburban parents in the blink of an eye.
Also, very recently, she has mastered this skill wherein she exhales with considerable force through her nostrils and it makes an impressive whistling sound that rises in pitch for a few seconds before it fades.
This was amusing for perhaps the first fifteen minutes I heard it, but she does it all the time now: waiting in line at the bank, at a baseball game, etc.
So, Zteve, should I knock her up or kill her?
Thanks,
Cautious in Calgary
"Cautious":
Intercourse before marriage is an abomination of God's creation. For the sake of your souls, you should kill her and then yourself, pleading the Lord for forgiveness.
Good luck and thanks for writing!
NEXT!
Dear Zteve,
There is someone at my local school paper who keeps expressing anti-American ideas. This bothers me because the media told me America is awesome and I don't like questioning my pre-conceived notions.
I've tried just complaining and waiting for someone else to do something about it, like I solve all my problems. I've also tried responding with personal attacks and representing my opinions as fact, but he continues to express his opinions.
Is there someway I can make him shut up and appreciate all the wonders of America, like freedom of expression or the destruction of other cultures by forcibly implementing our ideas?
Sincerely, Proud Patriot.
"Proud Patriot":
Thanks for your very moving letter. It is truly an inspiring message from a true American. Just the other day, as I was thinking about 9/11 (never forget), waving an American flag (Old Glory), saluting an American soldier (support our troops), putting on my "NYPD/FDNY" hat (respect our heroes), praying to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ (eternal life is mine!), applying a "Support Our Troops" bumper magnet (to my SUV), changing the TV channel (Wild'n Out), double-fisting Wendy's triples (do what tastes right), buying NASCAR tickets (I watch for the crashes), checking out from WalMart (always low prices), and stroking a noble bald eagle (caw caw), I realized how great this nation is. America. I just fuckin' love it, fellow patriot.
As for your question: folks like that just don't get it. What is America supposed to do, solve the world's problems? We ain't got time for that. We're the ones making the world great. Let somebody else come along who wants to do something for other people. Your little foolish buddy will one day recognize that his others-first attitude will only put him behind. Take that, liberal. One day you'll be his boss, "Proud Patriot," and on that day you can show him the error of his ways. People who stand in the way of our glorious economy will one day be run over it and crushed beneath it, as though it were some kind of unstoppable tank or maybe a badass Hummer or something. A yellow one with TVs.
AT ANY RATE, laugh at him for me when you've got him under your thumb. America style!
Dear Zteve Zays,
I've been seeing this girl for the past six to eight months now. We're mutually attracted, we converse well, we have a healthy sex life, etc.
We're at the point in the relationship now where it feels like something more should happen: we should stay together more often, we should meet each others' parents, etc. I guess we're both dragging our feet.
I guess at the root of the issue is that bachelor(ette) hood is our last sign of adolescence. We are both in our late twenties and relatively satisfied with our careers. We're both tacitly acknowledging that if we end up married, we will become suburban parents in the blink of an eye.
Also, very recently, she has mastered this skill wherein she exhales with considerable force through her nostrils and it makes an impressive whistling sound that rises in pitch for a few seconds before it fades.
This was amusing for perhaps the first fifteen minutes I heard it, but she does it all the time now: waiting in line at the bank, at a baseball game, etc.
So, Zteve, should I knock her up or kill her?
Thanks,
Cautious in Calgary
"Cautious":
Intercourse before marriage is an abomination of God's creation. For the sake of your souls, you should kill her and then yourself, pleading the Lord for forgiveness.
Good luck and thanks for writing!
NEXT!
Dear Zteve,
There is someone at my local school paper who keeps expressing anti-American ideas. This bothers me because the media told me America is awesome and I don't like questioning my pre-conceived notions.
I've tried just complaining and waiting for someone else to do something about it, like I solve all my problems. I've also tried responding with personal attacks and representing my opinions as fact, but he continues to express his opinions.
Is there someway I can make him shut up and appreciate all the wonders of America, like freedom of expression or the destruction of other cultures by forcibly implementing our ideas?
Sincerely, Proud Patriot.
"Proud Patriot":
Thanks for your very moving letter. It is truly an inspiring message from a true American. Just the other day, as I was thinking about 9/11 (never forget), waving an American flag (Old Glory), saluting an American soldier (support our troops), putting on my "NYPD/FDNY" hat (respect our heroes), praying to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ (eternal life is mine!), applying a "Support Our Troops" bumper magnet (to my SUV), changing the TV channel (Wild'n Out), double-fisting Wendy's triples (do what tastes right), buying NASCAR tickets (I watch for the crashes), checking out from WalMart (always low prices), and stroking a noble bald eagle (caw caw), I realized how great this nation is. America. I just fuckin' love it, fellow patriot.
As for your question: folks like that just don't get it. What is America supposed to do, solve the world's problems? We ain't got time for that. We're the ones making the world great. Let somebody else come along who wants to do something for other people. Your little foolish buddy will one day recognize that his others-first attitude will only put him behind. Take that, liberal. One day you'll be his boss, "Proud Patriot," and on that day you can show him the error of his ways. People who stand in the way of our glorious economy will one day be run over it and crushed beneath it, as though it were some kind of unstoppable tank or maybe a badass Hummer or something. A yellow one with TVs.
AT ANY RATE, laugh at him for me when you've got him under your thumb. America style!
dear zteve, i have a ?.
i too like to give advice.
but my son gets angry whenever i do. can you help me? believe me, he needs help.
thank you.
"Carnivorous in Cuyahoga Falls"
Dear little boy or girl,
You should not play on the computer without Mommy or Daddy to help you, okay? There are lots of bad people out there on the Internet, and you need to stay safe.
No, of course, I should not mock my mom so much. Also, I should work on my made-up psuedonyms. Eh, whatever.
In response to your question, mother--er, "Carnivorous": you are plainly misinterpreting your child. What you believe is "anger" is in fact unmitigated appreciation and adoration of your every suggestion or piece of advice. I would make a suggestion to you, but you probably already have a better one!
Good luck and God bless!!
And lastly:
Dear Zteve,
If there's a fool in the woods, and no one is there to hear his Jibba Jabba, will Mr. T still pity him?
Devilish in Dayton
"Devilish,"
It has, unfortunately, been several years since this question made any sense. Mr. T was, at one time, the authority on making fun of people. This occurred in the mid-80s, at the height of "The A-Team," when "a fool" was truly the highest of insults, followed closely by "a person who is proud to be living in the eighties" and "Ronald Reagan-esque." Since then, language has changed a bit, friend. The current champion of the lame-ass insult: 12-year-olds on the Internet, for the fourth year in a row, with "faggot" and its variants.
So, in response to your question "If there's a person, will children on the Internet call him or her a faggot?", the answer is yes, always. That is, until the next new insult comes along. I'm still hoping for "Faulknerian man-child," myself.
Everyone else: send your questions. They are fun.
Meanwhile, STEP and Dayton are boring, and I want to be done.
Okay talk to you later.
Love,
Steve
Monday, July 17, 2006
Zteve Zays: the inaugural issue of my advice column.
flea123: steveo you know what would be hilarious
Steveo279: what??!
flea123: is if you did an ask steve blog
flea123: or made entries like that
Steveo279: hahaha FUCK THAT SHIT
Steveo279: i TOTALLY WILL
flea123: like dear ann landers
flea123: hahahaha hurray!!!
Thus are brilliant ideas born. In fact, I have never spoken with Tom Hanlon without brilliant ideas being birthed like so many furry puppies. Finally, my life has a purpose!!
It shall be called "Zteve Zays." I DEMAND YOUR QUESTIONS! I SHALL ANSWER THEM! And probably very well, too.
FIRST!
flea123: Dear Steveo:
flea123: I have a roommate who means well but is quite overbearing at times. Is there a way to establish a healthy medium with him without making him feel bad? - Floundering in Florida
P.S. He's also in a wheelchair. Should this matter?
Never fear, "Floundering in Florida"! Your top-secret identity is safe with Zteve! Hahahaha! Safe.
As for your question: let's call your roommate "Todd." Wheelchairy Todd. What is it about Todd you don't like? His silly-ass name? The volume or type of his music? The way he treats strangers? His favorite channels? The way everything he does grates on your soul? You need to toughen up and face the issues in your past that make you so intolerant and hateful toward Todd. Obviously you have some pent-up aggression toward the disabled, or people with shitty names, or maybe just roommates in general.
I understand what you're facing. I am currently in a similar situation. I won't name names, but his name rhymes with "Basin Lamb."
The best way to deal with an issue like this is to quietly subvert everything you dislike about Todd. If it's the music, don't play yours louder. That's much too confrontational to be effective. Instead, adopt his favorite band as your own, but choose a different favorite album and insist that it's superior. Ideally, he would love Neil Young, and you could insist that those crazy Eighties electronic albums rock. The same would apply with the Smashing Pumpkins and Adore or Weezer and anything recent.
If Todd is rude to service people, as you have told me he is, you can choose a few different tactics. The most difficult, probably, is to out-rude him. This has a low chance of teaching Todd that he's wrong, and a high chance of pissing off service people. On the other hand, it promises to be great fun. A better idea is to constantly remark on how hard a job serving tables, cleaning gutters, washing bathrooms, running registers, or stocking shelves must be. Obviously, since Wheelchairy Todd is in a wheelchair, he might not know. Maybe he thinks working the Mickey D's register is just a roll in the park.
ANYWAY your goal should be to annoy Todd just as much as he annoys you. If he wants to talk to you a lot, make yourself hard to talk to. Adopting a crazy basic theory--anti-evolution, subtle racism or cultural stereotyping, or an unshakeable faith in science are examples--and relating every conversation to that theory is a proven method of scaring off people. Trust me, as a Socialist, I know this. All you capitalist pigs do it. Good luck, "Floundering," and God bless!
Zteve.
WHO IS NEXT.
flea123: I'm nearing college graduation and fear the future. I know not even you could know what is in store for me, but do you have any tips on how to find what a truly suitable career would be?
flea123: Inquisitive in Indianapolis
"Inquisitive": I hear you, brother! Or possibly sister! That is a tough fucking question.
Lots of people like to say you should find something you enjoy, no matter the amount you're getting paid, because you won't get tired of it in a few years. If you love appearing in terrible local TV ads, become a car dealership owner. If you're passionate about scanning UPC bar codes, look into cashiering. If you are fascinated by fecal matter and bleach, try janitor-ing. If you want to be rich as fuck, own a few wage slaves as a CEO.
Of course, this theory makes no sense--there would be no janitors, no painters, NO HOBOS FOR GOD'S SAKE!! But I prefer to dislike it for a different reason--it is essentially selfish. It encourages everyone to do just what the fuck they want. It assumes your life is about you.
On the other hand, by asking me this question, "Inquisition," you've permitted me to do what the fuck I want with YOUR life. And I say unto you: your life is not your own. Spend it on other people. Graduate and take your degree to a third-world country and build houses all day. Join a political campaign or volunteer at a school or design a septic system for a poor neighborhood.
Good luck and, seriously, God bless.
Zteve.
Fuck, I mixed jokes and seriousness. Now nobody's going to take that advice seriously.
Send in your questions. I HAVE THE ANSWERS FUCKERS
Love,
Zteve
Steveo279: what??!
flea123: is if you did an ask steve blog
flea123: or made entries like that
Steveo279: hahaha FUCK THAT SHIT
Steveo279: i TOTALLY WILL
flea123: like dear ann landers
flea123: hahahaha hurray!!!
Thus are brilliant ideas born. In fact, I have never spoken with Tom Hanlon without brilliant ideas being birthed like so many furry puppies. Finally, my life has a purpose!!
It shall be called "Zteve Zays." I DEMAND YOUR QUESTIONS! I SHALL ANSWER THEM! And probably very well, too.
FIRST!
flea123: Dear Steveo:
flea123: I have a roommate who means well but is quite overbearing at times. Is there a way to establish a healthy medium with him without making him feel bad? - Floundering in Florida
P.S. He's also in a wheelchair. Should this matter?
Never fear, "Floundering in Florida"! Your top-secret identity is safe with Zteve! Hahahaha! Safe.
As for your question: let's call your roommate "Todd." Wheelchairy Todd. What is it about Todd you don't like? His silly-ass name? The volume or type of his music? The way he treats strangers? His favorite channels? The way everything he does grates on your soul? You need to toughen up and face the issues in your past that make you so intolerant and hateful toward Todd. Obviously you have some pent-up aggression toward the disabled, or people with shitty names, or maybe just roommates in general.
I understand what you're facing. I am currently in a similar situation. I won't name names, but his name rhymes with "Basin Lamb."
The best way to deal with an issue like this is to quietly subvert everything you dislike about Todd. If it's the music, don't play yours louder. That's much too confrontational to be effective. Instead, adopt his favorite band as your own, but choose a different favorite album and insist that it's superior. Ideally, he would love Neil Young, and you could insist that those crazy Eighties electronic albums rock. The same would apply with the Smashing Pumpkins and Adore or Weezer and anything recent.
If Todd is rude to service people, as you have told me he is, you can choose a few different tactics. The most difficult, probably, is to out-rude him. This has a low chance of teaching Todd that he's wrong, and a high chance of pissing off service people. On the other hand, it promises to be great fun. A better idea is to constantly remark on how hard a job serving tables, cleaning gutters, washing bathrooms, running registers, or stocking shelves must be. Obviously, since Wheelchairy Todd is in a wheelchair, he might not know. Maybe he thinks working the Mickey D's register is just a roll in the park.
ANYWAY your goal should be to annoy Todd just as much as he annoys you. If he wants to talk to you a lot, make yourself hard to talk to. Adopting a crazy basic theory--anti-evolution, subtle racism or cultural stereotyping, or an unshakeable faith in science are examples--and relating every conversation to that theory is a proven method of scaring off people. Trust me, as a Socialist, I know this. All you capitalist pigs do it. Good luck, "Floundering," and God bless!
Zteve.
WHO IS NEXT.
flea123: I'm nearing college graduation and fear the future. I know not even you could know what is in store for me, but do you have any tips on how to find what a truly suitable career would be?
flea123: Inquisitive in Indianapolis
"Inquisitive": I hear you, brother! Or possibly sister! That is a tough fucking question.
Lots of people like to say you should find something you enjoy, no matter the amount you're getting paid, because you won't get tired of it in a few years. If you love appearing in terrible local TV ads, become a car dealership owner. If you're passionate about scanning UPC bar codes, look into cashiering. If you are fascinated by fecal matter and bleach, try janitor-ing. If you want to be rich as fuck, own a few wage slaves as a CEO.
Of course, this theory makes no sense--there would be no janitors, no painters, NO HOBOS FOR GOD'S SAKE!! But I prefer to dislike it for a different reason--it is essentially selfish. It encourages everyone to do just what the fuck they want. It assumes your life is about you.
On the other hand, by asking me this question, "Inquisition," you've permitted me to do what the fuck I want with YOUR life. And I say unto you: your life is not your own. Spend it on other people. Graduate and take your degree to a third-world country and build houses all day. Join a political campaign or volunteer at a school or design a septic system for a poor neighborhood.
Good luck and, seriously, God bless.
Zteve.
Fuck, I mixed jokes and seriousness. Now nobody's going to take that advice seriously.
Send in your questions. I HAVE THE ANSWERS FUCKERS
Love,
Zteve
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Finally an update for my sweet prince.
All right, Teresa's been here since Tuesday and she's going back early tomorrow morning. TIME FLIES WHEN YOU'RE HAVING FUN and we've been trying hard to have fun in Dayton, Ohio.
As far as STEP, not much is going on. I missed a tutoring session Tuesday evening because I was stuck in traffic picking up Teresa from the airport. Whoops. Nobody seemed to mind too much. Let's be honest: the students didn't miss a whole lot. I'm getting better at the running-tutorial thing but I'm not great at it.
STEP is now half over and I'm ready for it to be totally over. It's not painful or very difficult. It's just--as I believe I've mentioned before here--somewhat BORING AS FUCK to be here.
In international news: Israel reminds the rest of the Middle East why it is so hated.
Teresa and I went down to Brett's house the other day and that was fun. We played a game called "Apples to Apples." I declare myself the winner. We had margaritas and they were acceptable.
I'm working on ideas for Flyer News articles for next year. I heard from a few people that I might be the "Liberal" writer in a sort of debate-style setup in the opinions section next year. No idea who my counterpart would be. I think that will be fun and the UD campus will declare me the loser routinely, although judging from what I've heard from people about my previous articles it would be close. I think my problem is that I'm not very polite or gracious at all.
I've had a few ideas for articles, but they wouldn't work well in a format like that. My best idea is to write about the student protests in Chile that happened while we were there, and about how I think they should happen here in urban public schools but probably never will. Cheerful, I know.
So let me know if you have any suggestions for next year's articles.
And I'll talk to you later.
Love,
Stevie.
As far as STEP, not much is going on. I missed a tutoring session Tuesday evening because I was stuck in traffic picking up Teresa from the airport. Whoops. Nobody seemed to mind too much. Let's be honest: the students didn't miss a whole lot. I'm getting better at the running-tutorial thing but I'm not great at it.
STEP is now half over and I'm ready for it to be totally over. It's not painful or very difficult. It's just--as I believe I've mentioned before here--somewhat BORING AS FUCK to be here.
In international news: Israel reminds the rest of the Middle East why it is so hated.
Teresa and I went down to Brett's house the other day and that was fun. We played a game called "Apples to Apples." I declare myself the winner. We had margaritas and they were acceptable.
I'm working on ideas for Flyer News articles for next year. I heard from a few people that I might be the "Liberal" writer in a sort of debate-style setup in the opinions section next year. No idea who my counterpart would be. I think that will be fun and the UD campus will declare me the loser routinely, although judging from what I've heard from people about my previous articles it would be close. I think my problem is that I'm not very polite or gracious at all.
I've had a few ideas for articles, but they wouldn't work well in a format like that. My best idea is to write about the student protests in Chile that happened while we were there, and about how I think they should happen here in urban public schools but probably never will. Cheerful, I know.
So let me know if you have any suggestions for next year's articles.
And I'll talk to you later.
Love,
Stevie.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Two weeks down. I think time has slowed down.
Maaaan Lolita was really good. I liked it. I would recommend it to just about anyone.
In the Afterword, Russian author Vladimir Nabokov says one of his regrets in his writing career is that he had to quit writing in Russian and switch to English, in order to remain popular and avoid Russian censorship (Lolita was published in 1955). He says he is clumsy with English and would rather use Russian because he's more graceful with it.
No way is this true. Lolita has some really amazing writing, word play, word invention, and puns--and yes, I approve of these puns, because they're completely different from most. His writing is better than almost anyone I've read.
Of course, before I go praising the hell out of Lolita, I should retract my statement that I would recommend it to just about anyone. I would not recommend it to people who can't get beyond the basic plot of the story--37-year-old Humbert Humbert loves 12-year-old Dolores Haze--to see any value in the book. I know there are people who would refuse to recognize the brilliance of the book just because, eww, gross. These people I'm imagining are shallow-minded and silly and I would recommend something basic like Green Eggs and Ham for them to start with. Anything but the Bible, basically.
For most, though, the insanity and recklessness and terrible thoughts of Humbert Humbert will be a wonderful thing to read. As I've said about the book: The character is clearly terrifying and awful, but the book is still great. In a way you cheer for him, but you also want him to fail.
One rather disturbing aspect of Lolita: after having read it, I have some difficulty looking at girls Lolita's age. I'm not attracted to them, but I can't help thinking "Ugh...there are people who would be (are, I guess) attracted to you." It's very sad. Anyway, read it.
In other news, I went to Cincinnati this weekend for a wedding of people I didn't know. Jess Coyle invited me; her friend from high school was marrying an Australian guy. It was awesome to see Jess, Jay and Leslie. They are hilarious. The wedding was pretty much the perfect size, in my opinion. I don't know how many people were there--like 100? Maybe more? I don't know. If you're reading this, sure, you're invited, whatever. Hanging out with Jay, Leslie and Jess was really fun and I should have started theater sooner. OH WELL.
Coming up: just a little more sitting around. Next is A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway. Forty-two pages in, it looks really good too. It's about an American in the Italian army during World War I. He drives an ambulance. I think I like the Hemingway writing style.
Besides that, not much going on.
OH WAIT TERESA IS COMING TO DAYTON on Tuesday that should be fun. As much as I claim I've been doing nothing around here, she hasn't had a job since she's returned from Australia--just studying for the MCAT test. Therefore, by comparison, Dayton should be fun for her. She's going to be here a week. She's going to be bored while I do tutoring, but whatever.
That is all. You take care now.
Wait.
Title: Lolita
Author: Vladimir Nabokov
Year: 1955
Grade: B.
Positives: Fascinating description of Humbert Humbert's feelings toward Lolita, and an equally fascinating portrait of the indifferent, semi-mature "nymphet"; great descriptions of 1950s America that absolutely hold true today.
Negatives: some might fear the subject matter; ending sort of winds down rather than reaching any sort of climax.
Summary: There is no doubt this book will make a lasting impact on most readers. Its descriptions of H.H.'s love for Lolita are sometimes overwhelmingly sad and beautiful, and other times repulsive. I really like it. I do think everyone should give it a chance.
Okay good bye.
Love,
Steve
In the Afterword, Russian author Vladimir Nabokov says one of his regrets in his writing career is that he had to quit writing in Russian and switch to English, in order to remain popular and avoid Russian censorship (Lolita was published in 1955). He says he is clumsy with English and would rather use Russian because he's more graceful with it.
No way is this true. Lolita has some really amazing writing, word play, word invention, and puns--and yes, I approve of these puns, because they're completely different from most. His writing is better than almost anyone I've read.
Of course, before I go praising the hell out of Lolita, I should retract my statement that I would recommend it to just about anyone. I would not recommend it to people who can't get beyond the basic plot of the story--37-year-old Humbert Humbert loves 12-year-old Dolores Haze--to see any value in the book. I know there are people who would refuse to recognize the brilliance of the book just because, eww, gross. These people I'm imagining are shallow-minded and silly and I would recommend something basic like Green Eggs and Ham for them to start with. Anything but the Bible, basically.
For most, though, the insanity and recklessness and terrible thoughts of Humbert Humbert will be a wonderful thing to read. As I've said about the book: The character is clearly terrifying and awful, but the book is still great. In a way you cheer for him, but you also want him to fail.
One rather disturbing aspect of Lolita: after having read it, I have some difficulty looking at girls Lolita's age. I'm not attracted to them, but I can't help thinking "Ugh...there are people who would be (are, I guess) attracted to you." It's very sad. Anyway, read it.
In other news, I went to Cincinnati this weekend for a wedding of people I didn't know. Jess Coyle invited me; her friend from high school was marrying an Australian guy. It was awesome to see Jess, Jay and Leslie. They are hilarious. The wedding was pretty much the perfect size, in my opinion. I don't know how many people were there--like 100? Maybe more? I don't know. If you're reading this, sure, you're invited, whatever. Hanging out with Jay, Leslie and Jess was really fun and I should have started theater sooner. OH WELL.
Coming up: just a little more sitting around. Next is A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway. Forty-two pages in, it looks really good too. It's about an American in the Italian army during World War I. He drives an ambulance. I think I like the Hemingway writing style.
Besides that, not much going on.
OH WAIT TERESA IS COMING TO DAYTON on Tuesday that should be fun. As much as I claim I've been doing nothing around here, she hasn't had a job since she's returned from Australia--just studying for the MCAT test. Therefore, by comparison, Dayton should be fun for her. She's going to be here a week. She's going to be bored while I do tutoring, but whatever.
That is all. You take care now.
Wait.
Title: Lolita
Author: Vladimir Nabokov
Year: 1955
Grade: B.
Positives: Fascinating description of Humbert Humbert's feelings toward Lolita, and an equally fascinating portrait of the indifferent, semi-mature "nymphet"; great descriptions of 1950s America that absolutely hold true today.
Negatives: some might fear the subject matter; ending sort of winds down rather than reaching any sort of climax.
Summary: There is no doubt this book will make a lasting impact on most readers. Its descriptions of H.H.'s love for Lolita are sometimes overwhelmingly sad and beautiful, and other times repulsive. I really like it. I do think everyone should give it a chance.
Okay good bye.
Love,
Steve
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Why are there never any great WHOLESOME novels?
Teresa's coming to Dayton this coming Tuesday. It's going to be very exciting. She's been in Texas since she got back from Australia, studying for the MCAT. I think we're both sitting around doing very little.
In international news: Palestinians and Israelis continue to disappoint any reasonable person. Some Palestinians--not necessarily the government but probably some people who identify with the ruling party--kidnapped an Israeli soldier about two weeks ago. Israel has pretty much marched all over Palestine since then, kidnapping Palestinian MPs and dropping bombs and rolling tanks into Gaza. Maybe an overreaction? Maybe killing Palestinian citizens isn't exactly a solution?
Oh, by the way: if you're a government, and you aren't at war, and you kill someone without trial, they're a citizen and you're a murderer. Not a tough concept. In fact, even if you do have a trial, I'm not sure that absolves you. If Israel is at war with Palestine, I would suggest the U.S. government stop giving money to Israel. I don't think Israel would say they're exactly at war, though. They want to continue to fire missles at Palestine without all the messy technicalities of helping Palestine once they win the war.
Anyway, I did read a comment on BBC News that made a pretty good point, I thought: U.S. soldiers get captured somewhat regularly, and the U.S. doesn't flip out the way Israel has.
Then I realized, it's a little harder to find our U.S. soldiers. All we know is that they're somewhere in Iraq, maybe in the same city where they were captured. If it was as easy as heading to the Iraqi equivalent of the West Bank or Gaza, I have no doubt the U.S. would fire a big old American load of missles at that area. You know, just like Israelis have been doing.
In my opinion, Israel should have agreed to a prisoner exchange to get the soldier back. Would that encourage more soldier kidnappings? Maybe, I don't know. The thing is, my plan if I were Israeli PM would look so different from the current one that saying what I would do in a given situation barely makes sense. I would do everything differently.
And lastly: I went to the library yesterday and got out four books:
Lolita, by Vladimir Nabokov
For Whom the Bell Tolls, by Ernest Hemingway
A Farewell to Arms, by Ernest Hemingway
and On the Road, by Jack Kerouac.
I started with Lolita. For those who don't know, it's the story of Humbert Humbert, a nearly-forty-year-old European man, and his love for Lolita Haze, a twelve-year-old American girl. Once again: him: 37. Her: 12. Book: awesome. So far it's been rreeeeaaalllllyy fuckin' good, as Brad would say. It's narrated by Humbert Humbert, and he just says crazy shit and it's awesome. His obsession with Lolita is really amazing to read. There really are some beautiful passages.
But please don't take this as an endorsement of pedophilia. Nabokov used to point out that Humbert is a monster, and I would agree. He's pretty fucked up. But it makes an awesome book.
I'll tell you more when I'm done.
This weekend, I'm going to a wedding in Cincinnati (Jess, Leslie and Jota? Come on!), then Teresa comes at the beginning of next week. In between: Humbert Humbert!
Talk to you later.
Love,
Steve
In international news: Palestinians and Israelis continue to disappoint any reasonable person. Some Palestinians--not necessarily the government but probably some people who identify with the ruling party--kidnapped an Israeli soldier about two weeks ago. Israel has pretty much marched all over Palestine since then, kidnapping Palestinian MPs and dropping bombs and rolling tanks into Gaza. Maybe an overreaction? Maybe killing Palestinian citizens isn't exactly a solution?
Oh, by the way: if you're a government, and you aren't at war, and you kill someone without trial, they're a citizen and you're a murderer. Not a tough concept. In fact, even if you do have a trial, I'm not sure that absolves you. If Israel is at war with Palestine, I would suggest the U.S. government stop giving money to Israel. I don't think Israel would say they're exactly at war, though. They want to continue to fire missles at Palestine without all the messy technicalities of helping Palestine once they win the war.
Anyway, I did read a comment on BBC News that made a pretty good point, I thought: U.S. soldiers get captured somewhat regularly, and the U.S. doesn't flip out the way Israel has.
Then I realized, it's a little harder to find our U.S. soldiers. All we know is that they're somewhere in Iraq, maybe in the same city where they were captured. If it was as easy as heading to the Iraqi equivalent of the West Bank or Gaza, I have no doubt the U.S. would fire a big old American load of missles at that area. You know, just like Israelis have been doing.
In my opinion, Israel should have agreed to a prisoner exchange to get the soldier back. Would that encourage more soldier kidnappings? Maybe, I don't know. The thing is, my plan if I were Israeli PM would look so different from the current one that saying what I would do in a given situation barely makes sense. I would do everything differently.
So that's what I'm thinking about Israel and Palestine.
And lastly: I went to the library yesterday and got out four books:
Lolita, by Vladimir Nabokov
For Whom the Bell Tolls, by Ernest Hemingway
A Farewell to Arms, by Ernest Hemingway
and On the Road, by Jack Kerouac.
I started with Lolita. For those who don't know, it's the story of Humbert Humbert, a nearly-forty-year-old European man, and his love for Lolita Haze, a twelve-year-old American girl. Once again: him: 37. Her: 12. Book: awesome. So far it's been rreeeeaaalllllyy fuckin' good, as Brad would say. It's narrated by Humbert Humbert, and he just says crazy shit and it's awesome. His obsession with Lolita is really amazing to read. There really are some beautiful passages.
But please don't take this as an endorsement of pedophilia. Nabokov used to point out that Humbert is a monster, and I would agree. He's pretty fucked up. But it makes an awesome book.
I'll tell you more when I'm done.
This weekend, I'm going to a wedding in Cincinnati (Jess, Leslie and Jota? Come on!), then Teresa comes at the beginning of next week. In between: Humbert Humbert!
Talk to you later.
Love,
Steve
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
Today is a good day I think for comics!
Friends, do I even need to bother with my opinions on the Fourth of July?
I don't think so. You know me well enough. So I'll spare you the rambling. Most of you could write my rant for me anyway.
Instead, I think I'll talk about A Softer World. It's a comic strip, pretty much. It consists of three pictures with words written across them, written by Emily Horne and Joey Corneau. There are absolutely no themes or consistencies among the strips--each stands on its own.
I'm not totally sure I like it. I mean, sometimes it makes me laugh out loud. Sometimes it's serious and really well-done and well-written. And sometimes it's silly as hell.
Examples:
Laugh out loud.
Serious and badass.
Silly as hell.
Also, I love this one and this one and this one. Sometimes I just sit there clicking the back button over and over, reading ones I've read before. They're pretty cool.
As you know, I love Dinosaur Comics at Qwantz.com. I highly recommend them to anyone.
That's about it. No class today. Free food later, I think. Until then: sitting around!
Love,
Steve
I don't think so. You know me well enough. So I'll spare you the rambling. Most of you could write my rant for me anyway.
Instead, I think I'll talk about A Softer World. It's a comic strip, pretty much. It consists of three pictures with words written across them, written by Emily Horne and Joey Corneau. There are absolutely no themes or consistencies among the strips--each stands on its own.
I'm not totally sure I like it. I mean, sometimes it makes me laugh out loud. Sometimes it's serious and really well-done and well-written. And sometimes it's silly as hell.
Examples:
Laugh out loud.
Serious and badass.
Silly as hell.
Also, I love this one and this one and this one. Sometimes I just sit there clicking the back button over and over, reading ones I've read before. They're pretty cool.
As you know, I love Dinosaur Comics at Qwantz.com. I highly recommend them to anyone.
That's about it. No class today. Free food later, I think. Until then: sitting around!
Love,
Steve
Monday, July 03, 2006
Visitors make Dayton livable. Pretty much.
One week down of STEP, and of sitting around Dayton. Five left.
This weekend Alyssa came in from Indiana to visit everyone here. She stayed with me in Founders. Somehow this did not result in 1,000,000 violent arguments.
No, actually, it was fun. We went down to Kentucky to visit the UDSAP house, the students on volunteer/retreat in Appalachia. Sam and I agreed it was a little too retreat-like, but whatever. I got to hang out with Patty J and Carolyn Slott and Ken Farrell. That was Friday night. Then Saturday we sat around, went over to Joe's apartment, played poker, watched a couple movies. Sunday we went to Brett's.
Tony Storti came in this weekend and stayed down at Brett's house. He says Europe was awesome, especially Germany. At least, it was better than the fifty-five-hour weeks he's putting in at the factory now. We did lots more sitting around Sunday.
It was pretty much glorious.
Today we watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind for English class, then finish it in my tutorial tonight. So I have nothing at all to do, except probably explain the students' grades on the previous paper. But don't let me complain about this job. It is 2,000 times better than Stuart Hall housekeeping.
Let me know what's going on in your lives!
Love,
Steve
This weekend Alyssa came in from Indiana to visit everyone here. She stayed with me in Founders. Somehow this did not result in 1,000,000 violent arguments.
No, actually, it was fun. We went down to Kentucky to visit the UDSAP house, the students on volunteer/retreat in Appalachia. Sam and I agreed it was a little too retreat-like, but whatever. I got to hang out with Patty J and Carolyn Slott and Ken Farrell. That was Friday night. Then Saturday we sat around, went over to Joe's apartment, played poker, watched a couple movies. Sunday we went to Brett's.
Tony Storti came in this weekend and stayed down at Brett's house. He says Europe was awesome, especially Germany. At least, it was better than the fifty-five-hour weeks he's putting in at the factory now. We did lots more sitting around Sunday.
It was pretty much glorious.
Today we watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind for English class, then finish it in my tutorial tonight. So I have nothing at all to do, except probably explain the students' grades on the previous paper. But don't let me complain about this job. It is 2,000 times better than Stuart Hall housekeeping.
Let me know what's going on in your lives!
Love,
Steve
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Founders might be hot, but there is no shit to clean out of a pool.
Okay. I have a great story for you.
You guys know Mikey, right? Opera Mike? Michael Hugh Blocksidge, one of my roommates, from Rocky River, Ohio. He's a music and business major. Every summer, he goes back to Rocky River and works at a day camp for children with special needs, like Marcos and Hoffy did that one summer.
He used to work with the kid Maris who had a big swollen hand and would chase other kids around and shout "It's contagious! It's contagious!!" and I loved Mikey's impression of that.
Well, Maris graduated, but Mikey says there's a kid to take his place. I forget his name, but he has Williams syndrome, which Mikey says is like autism. Mental retardation, all that stuff.
Mikey tells me the kid was in the pool, and decided to poop. Then pick it up and throw it around. Then get all pissed off and splash it around.
So Mikey had to put a stop to that. Lots of handling of poop there. But that's not the best part (BELIEVE IT OR NOT!).
Mikey tells me about this, and sends me the link to the Wikipedia article about Williams syndrome, so I have an idea what he's talking about. And I read "unusually cheerful demeanor" as one of the traits of people with Williams syndrome, so I say, at least he has a cheerful demeanor. And if only I had kept the AIM conversation Mikey and I had, I could put his actual words. But it was something like
goatzilla14:FUCKING LIE
goatzilla14:that is so not true
And I tell him, edit Wikipedia then. And he says, "hang on...i'm going to create an account."
The next thing he sends me is a message that says something like "A Wikipedia bot has flagged your entry for inappropriate language." And he says, hang on, I have another idea.
Then he sends me the whole Williams article again. Read the first line under "Symptoms" in the article now. I just about died laughing.
If you didn't follow, Mikey added "with frequent swings into an unfathomable rage" after "cheerful demeanor." I like to think about Mikey cowering in fear in front of a raging elf-like eight-year-old.
I love to think about it, in fact.
Okay that's all for today.
Love,
Steve
You guys know Mikey, right? Opera Mike? Michael Hugh Blocksidge, one of my roommates, from Rocky River, Ohio. He's a music and business major. Every summer, he goes back to Rocky River and works at a day camp for children with special needs, like Marcos and Hoffy did that one summer.
He used to work with the kid Maris who had a big swollen hand and would chase other kids around and shout "It's contagious! It's contagious!!" and I loved Mikey's impression of that.
Well, Maris graduated, but Mikey says there's a kid to take his place. I forget his name, but he has Williams syndrome, which Mikey says is like autism. Mental retardation, all that stuff.
Mikey tells me the kid was in the pool, and decided to poop. Then pick it up and throw it around. Then get all pissed off and splash it around.
So Mikey had to put a stop to that. Lots of handling of poop there. But that's not the best part (BELIEVE IT OR NOT!).
Mikey tells me about this, and sends me the link to the Wikipedia article about Williams syndrome, so I have an idea what he's talking about. And I read "unusually cheerful demeanor" as one of the traits of people with Williams syndrome, so I say, at least he has a cheerful demeanor. And if only I had kept the AIM conversation Mikey and I had, I could put his actual words. But it was something like
goatzilla14:FUCKING LIE
goatzilla14:that is so not true
And I tell him, edit Wikipedia then. And he says, "hang on...i'm going to create an account."
The next thing he sends me is a message that says something like "A Wikipedia bot has flagged your entry for inappropriate language." And he says, hang on, I have another idea.
Then he sends me the whole Williams article again. Read the first line under "Symptoms" in the article now. I just about died laughing.
If you didn't follow, Mikey added "with frequent swings into an unfathomable rage" after "cheerful demeanor." I like to think about Mikey cowering in fear in front of a raging elf-like eight-year-old.
I love to think about it, in fact.
Okay that's all for today.
Love,
Steve
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Life in Dayton: worthwhile?
Yesterday I had my first tutoring session with the STEP English students. It should have been only half the group, eight or nine students, but it was actually all of them, 17. The reason is, they didn't come to the tutorial Monday because of a mistaken e-mail from the professor. So they all came yesterday. Catchai?
And it went pretty well. Beforehand I was paranoid that I wouldn't have enough material to fill 75 minutes, but I wound up doing that easily. In fact, I didn't get to everything I thought I would. Oh well.
We went over MLA style, thrilling as it is, and I gave them one of my papers as an example.
Then I had this idea that I would play them a song and they would correct the grammar in the lyrics. I thought it was a pretty typical Steve Weishampel assignment. So I brought in "Cattle and the Creeping Things" by The Hold Steady. Allow me to present the lyrics to you.
The Hold Steady – “Cattle and the Creeping Things”
They got to the part with the cattle and the creeping things.
They said, “I'm pretty sure we've heard this one before.
Don't it all end up in some revelation with four guys on horses, and violent red visions; famine and death and pestilence and war?
I'm pretty sure I heard this one before.”
You in the corner with a good-looking drifter.
Two cups of coffee and ten packs of sugar.
I heard Gideon saw you in Denver.
He said you're contagious.
Silly rabbit. Tripping is for teenagers. Murder is for murderers. And hard drugs are for bartenders. I think I might have mentioned that before.
He's got the pages in his pockets that he ripped out of the Bible from his bedstand in the motel.
He likes the part where the traders get chased out from the temple.
I guess I heard about original sin.
I heard the dudes blamed the chick.
I heard the chick blamed the snake.
And I heard they were naked when they got busted.
And I heard things ain't been the same since.
You on the streets with a tendency to preach to the choir.
Wired for sound and down with whatever.
I heard Gideon did you in Denver.
She's got a cross around her neck that she ripped off from a schoolgirl in the subway on a visit to the city.
She likes how it looks on her chest with three open buttons.
She likes the part where one brother kills the other.
She has to wonder if the world ever will recover. Because Cain and Abel seem to still be causing trouble.
She said, “I was seeing double for three straight days after I got born again.
It felt strange but it was nice and peaceful and it really pleased me to be around so many people.
Of course, half of them were visions but half of them were friends from going through the program with me.
Later on we did some sexy things. Took a couple photographs and carved them into wood reliefs.
But that's enough about me. Come on, tell me how you got down here into Ybor City.”
He said, “I got to the part about the Exodus. And up to then I only knew it was a movement of the people.
But if small-town cops are like swarms of flies and blackened foil is like boils and hail, I'm pretty sure I’ve been through this before.”
It seemed like a simple place to score.
Then some old lady came to the door and said, “McKenzie Phillips doesn't live here anymore.”
Of course, we listened to the song first. I think they didn't exactly love it. I plan on bringing a more pop rock song next time, I guess. But then one kid asked if he could borrow the CD after the class, so that's nice.
As a side note, I fucking absolutely love when he sings "If small-town cops are like swarms of flies and blackened foil is like boils and hail." It just sounds really awesome, with the keyboard part. I'm sure you don't know what I mean.
Next time I think I'm going to ask them to write a reaction to the song, though. It's easier to find a song to ask people to react to rather than a song to correct grammar. Lots of songs are beyond help.
Anyway it went well. The rest of the week I have one-on-one tutoring, which I'm better at. Then theater people are coming to visit Dayton for a while. Exciting shit.
Which is a nice change. Generally this past week in Dayton can be characterized by lots of sitting around in near-uncomfortable warmth, wondering what to do.
Today I don't have to go to class, so I'm meeting Val for lunch. Then sitting around. Then the one-on-one tutoring. Then maybe meeting Beard for dinner if I can reach him. Then cleaning and going shopping.
WHAT A LIFE.
Love,
Steve
And it went pretty well. Beforehand I was paranoid that I wouldn't have enough material to fill 75 minutes, but I wound up doing that easily. In fact, I didn't get to everything I thought I would. Oh well.
We went over MLA style, thrilling as it is, and I gave them one of my papers as an example.
Then I had this idea that I would play them a song and they would correct the grammar in the lyrics. I thought it was a pretty typical Steve Weishampel assignment. So I brought in "Cattle and the Creeping Things" by The Hold Steady. Allow me to present the lyrics to you.
The Hold Steady – “Cattle and the Creeping Things”
They got to the part with the cattle and the creeping things.
They said, “I'm pretty sure we've heard this one before.
Don't it all end up in some revelation with four guys on horses, and violent red visions; famine and death and pestilence and war?
I'm pretty sure I heard this one before.”
You in the corner with a good-looking drifter.
Two cups of coffee and ten packs of sugar.
I heard Gideon saw you in Denver.
He said you're contagious.
Silly rabbit. Tripping is for teenagers. Murder is for murderers. And hard drugs are for bartenders. I think I might have mentioned that before.
He's got the pages in his pockets that he ripped out of the Bible from his bedstand in the motel.
He likes the part where the traders get chased out from the temple.
I guess I heard about original sin.
I heard the dudes blamed the chick.
I heard the chick blamed the snake.
And I heard they were naked when they got busted.
And I heard things ain't been the same since.
You on the streets with a tendency to preach to the choir.
Wired for sound and down with whatever.
I heard Gideon did you in Denver.
She's got a cross around her neck that she ripped off from a schoolgirl in the subway on a visit to the city.
She likes how it looks on her chest with three open buttons.
She likes the part where one brother kills the other.
She has to wonder if the world ever will recover. Because Cain and Abel seem to still be causing trouble.
She said, “I was seeing double for three straight days after I got born again.
It felt strange but it was nice and peaceful and it really pleased me to be around so many people.
Of course, half of them were visions but half of them were friends from going through the program with me.
Later on we did some sexy things. Took a couple photographs and carved them into wood reliefs.
But that's enough about me. Come on, tell me how you got down here into Ybor City.”
He said, “I got to the part about the Exodus. And up to then I only knew it was a movement of the people.
But if small-town cops are like swarms of flies and blackened foil is like boils and hail, I'm pretty sure I’ve been through this before.”
It seemed like a simple place to score.
Then some old lady came to the door and said, “McKenzie Phillips doesn't live here anymore.”
Of course, we listened to the song first. I think they didn't exactly love it. I plan on bringing a more pop rock song next time, I guess. But then one kid asked if he could borrow the CD after the class, so that's nice.
As a side note, I fucking absolutely love when he sings "If small-town cops are like swarms of flies and blackened foil is like boils and hail." It just sounds really awesome, with the keyboard part. I'm sure you don't know what I mean.
Next time I think I'm going to ask them to write a reaction to the song, though. It's easier to find a song to ask people to react to rather than a song to correct grammar. Lots of songs are beyond help.
Anyway it went well. The rest of the week I have one-on-one tutoring, which I'm better at. Then theater people are coming to visit Dayton for a while. Exciting shit.
Which is a nice change. Generally this past week in Dayton can be characterized by lots of sitting around in near-uncomfortable warmth, wondering what to do.
Today I don't have to go to class, so I'm meeting Val for lunch. Then sitting around. Then the one-on-one tutoring. Then maybe meeting Beard for dinner if I can reach him. Then cleaning and going shopping.
WHAT A LIFE.
Love,
Steve
Monday, June 26, 2006
STEP: good students, terrible management.
Man, the first day of STEP could have maybe gone worse. If wolves had eaten several students, or maybe if even bigger, meaner wolves had eaten more than several students.
As it was, though, it didn't go great.
I was pretty nervous about running a tutorial session with eight of the students, which was to take place at 6:30 this evening. I had no idea what I would do for an hour and fifteen minutes, or whether the kids would listen to me, or whether I really felt like talking about English rules for that long.
Fortunately, I didn't have to. The professor accidentally sent my class an email saying the tutorial was at 4:30 rather than 6:30, causing many to miss it. I wound up teaching MLA format to the Puerto Rican student. I got to speak Spanish a little.
So they're all coming tomorrow evening, rather than half the class today and half tomorrow. So that's fine. I just need to make a syllabus and come up with some kind of plan. I guess.
I'll let you know how that goes.
Love,
Steve
As it was, though, it didn't go great.
I was pretty nervous about running a tutorial session with eight of the students, which was to take place at 6:30 this evening. I had no idea what I would do for an hour and fifteen minutes, or whether the kids would listen to me, or whether I really felt like talking about English rules for that long.
Fortunately, I didn't have to. The professor accidentally sent my class an email saying the tutorial was at 4:30 rather than 6:30, causing many to miss it. I wound up teaching MLA format to the Puerto Rican student. I got to speak Spanish a little.
So they're all coming tomorrow evening, rather than half the class today and half tomorrow. So that's fine. I just need to make a syllabus and come up with some kind of plan. I guess.
I'll let you know how that goes.
Love,
Steve
Sunday, June 25, 2006
HOLD STEADY!
Tomorrow is the first day of classes for STEP, the "transition" program for students that will probably get into UD but need to pass two classes to prove that they're ready for college. At least, that's a very brief summary of the idea.
They all take English, then either philosophy, religion or history. Eric Eble and I are the English tutors and Zac Stinetorf is the philosophy tutor. Then there's Anna for history and Kat for religious studies. The students seem pretty good, I'd say. Most are ready to work and don't seem too upset about going to school during the summer.
So here's the story today: I got The Hold Steady Almost Killed Me, which is the first album from The Hold Steady, about five months ago from Tony. It's pretty ridiculous.
The vocals are definitely the first thing you notice. Craig Finn doesn't bother singing--he just sort of barks out his lyrics, which focus completely on the stories of his friends and his own story. Usually these are riddled with drug use and regret in its various forms. I can't do justice to his lyrics with one example, but I do especially like "Tights and skirts, baby, skirts and tights. We used to shake it up in Shaker Heights," since Shaker Heights is up near Cleveland. The amazing thing is that the lyrics fit together, both within songs and between songs. All of the album fits together to create a sort of picture of his recent history, which he explains in this way: "Some nights we got so high that Michigan looked just like a mitten. Some nights we got fried." Not a message for the young and impressionable, maybe, but very fascinating, I think. Also, this wouldn't be a complete description of the singing of Craig Finn without a mention of his absolute disrespect for rhymes and equal line lengths.
Here's a way to explain the lyrics of The Hold Steady Almost Killed Me:
PERSONS OF THE PLAY
Craig Finn: a deep-voiced drug user, member of the Cityscape Skins (whatever they are)
Halleluiah/"Holly": drug user and apparent prostitute
Ellen Foley: possibly also a prostitute in the harbor bars
Charlemagne: Finn's friend and maybe dealer, probably deceased
Gideon: Finn's friend, member of the Cityscape Skins, now works in Michigan
Others: drug users, indie kids, bar crowds, bartenders, kids on the corner.
LOCATIONS
Ybor City, Florida
St. Paul and Minneapolis, Minnesota
Hostile, Massachusetts
Lowertown
East Coast
West Coast
The Middle West
Bay City, Michigan
Virginia
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Pensacola, Florida
Somewhere behind Finn's mumbling is the music, which is really very good--a sort of alternative hard-hitting rolling sound. They throw in a saxophone in my favorite, "Hostile, Massachusetts," and an organ or keyboard appears in a few others. Generally, though, the band just rips through four-minute rock songs and provides a sort of backdrop for the drama of Ybor City, the Twin Cities of Minnesota, and mysterious Lowertown.
Anyway, I loved the album, and I soon discovered that The Hold Steady had produced a second, Separation Sunday. On their website only one track was available, so I downloaded it and pronounced it acceptable. A little repetitive, maybe, compared to the chorus-less "Swish" on Almost Killed Me, but definitely good.
Lyrically, Finn is much more focused on Separation Sunday. As far as I can tell, it's the story of Halleluiah/Holly, his friend? girlfriend? acquaintance? lover? sister? whatever. The album opens with Finn meeting Holly ("She said always remember / Never to trust me. She said that the first night that she met me.") and continues through Holly's fall into drugs and eventual rise through religion to a resurrection (the final track is "How a Resurrection Really Feels"). Mixed in are a few other characters and situations, as the lyrics again refer to other songs, both on this album and the previous one.
So:
PERSONS OF THE PLAY
Halleluiah/"Holly": a prostitute in Minnesota who lost her faith, struggled with drug addiction, and eventually left parties for religion
Craig Finn: still deep-voiced, he doesn't seem to love Holly but probably respects her
Charlemagne: definitely a drug dealer, apparently dead from a cocaine overdose
Your Little Hoodrat Friend: possibly Holly; Finn is emphatic that his relationship with this person is platonic
Stevie Nix: the singer of Fleetwood Mac gets a song title all her own, except she is not mentioned in the song
Gideon: apparently had sex with Holly in Denver
LOCATIONS
the banks of the Mississippi River
Penetration Park
Upper Midwest
Ybor City, Florida
St. Paul, Minnesota
confessionals
Denver, Colorado
Chicago, Illinois
New York City
I think I would give the edge to The Hold Steady Almost Killed Me in terms of lyrics, but just by a bit. At times Separation Sunday is a little forced, I think, because he tries to tell a more coherent story. They're still way, way better than anything anyone will ever sing in Top 40 songs. Hahahaha, I just made myself think of someone doing a Hold Steady song on American Idol. "If you don't get born again, at least you'll get high as hell!" on FOX. I would love that person forever.
The music, though, is notably different. This album is more blues-based, with distinctive guitar riffs and a lot, lot more keyboard. Usually "bluesy" would be a death sentence from me, but it works very well, especially in the second track, "Cattle and the Creeping Things." The whole album has a coherence and arc that I think works better than the lyrics. I wish for more bass (as the name of the blog indicates, bass is the most important instrument in rock, followed by drums and guitar. Vocals are optional and thus not included.), but it's still really good. See the strangely addictive "Charlemagne in Sweatpants" for an example of blues-influenced rock with good bass.
I'm trying to keep this one short, so I'll leave you with this:
Advantages: very solid rock songs; good use of organ/keyboard; fascinating lyrics--good enough that I sometimes read them without listening to the music; extremely catchy at times; anyone can sing along, if they get atonal and crazy-sounding enough.
Disadvantages: some people will hate Craig Finn's voice, and it's a big part of The Hold Steady; can very occasionally get repetitive, lyrically and musically; songs are not cheerful and treat some subjects, like religion and drug addiction, rather roughly.
Grade: B+. It could do just a little better sometimes, with its occasional slow out-of-place song ("Don't Let Me Explode," despite its awesome title, comes to mind). Overall, it just rocks.
The Hold Steady website
The Hold Steady lyrics page
Buy Separation Sunday on Amazon.com
That's today's story. Listen to The Hold Steady.
Love,
Steve
They all take English, then either philosophy, religion or history. Eric Eble and I are the English tutors and Zac Stinetorf is the philosophy tutor. Then there's Anna for history and Kat for religious studies. The students seem pretty good, I'd say. Most are ready to work and don't seem too upset about going to school during the summer.
So here's the story today: I got The Hold Steady Almost Killed Me, which is the first album from The Hold Steady, about five months ago from Tony. It's pretty ridiculous.
The vocals are definitely the first thing you notice. Craig Finn doesn't bother singing--he just sort of barks out his lyrics, which focus completely on the stories of his friends and his own story. Usually these are riddled with drug use and regret in its various forms. I can't do justice to his lyrics with one example, but I do especially like "Tights and skirts, baby, skirts and tights. We used to shake it up in Shaker Heights," since Shaker Heights is up near Cleveland. The amazing thing is that the lyrics fit together, both within songs and between songs. All of the album fits together to create a sort of picture of his recent history, which he explains in this way: "Some nights we got so high that Michigan looked just like a mitten. Some nights we got fried." Not a message for the young and impressionable, maybe, but very fascinating, I think. Also, this wouldn't be a complete description of the singing of Craig Finn without a mention of his absolute disrespect for rhymes and equal line lengths.
Here's a way to explain the lyrics of The Hold Steady Almost Killed Me:
PERSONS OF THE PLAY
Craig Finn: a deep-voiced drug user, member of the Cityscape Skins (whatever they are)
Halleluiah/"Holly": drug user and apparent prostitute
Ellen Foley: possibly also a prostitute in the harbor bars
Charlemagne: Finn's friend and maybe dealer, probably deceased
Gideon: Finn's friend, member of the Cityscape Skins, now works in Michigan
Others: drug users, indie kids, bar crowds, bartenders, kids on the corner.
LOCATIONS
Ybor City, Florida
St. Paul and Minneapolis, Minnesota
Hostile, Massachusetts
Lowertown
East Coast
West Coast
The Middle West
Bay City, Michigan
Virginia
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Pensacola, Florida
Somewhere behind Finn's mumbling is the music, which is really very good--a sort of alternative hard-hitting rolling sound. They throw in a saxophone in my favorite, "Hostile, Massachusetts," and an organ or keyboard appears in a few others. Generally, though, the band just rips through four-minute rock songs and provides a sort of backdrop for the drama of Ybor City, the Twin Cities of Minnesota, and mysterious Lowertown.
Anyway, I loved the album, and I soon discovered that The Hold Steady had produced a second, Separation Sunday. On their website only one track was available, so I downloaded it and pronounced it acceptable. A little repetitive, maybe, compared to the chorus-less "Swish" on Almost Killed Me, but definitely good.
Lyrically, Finn is much more focused on Separation Sunday. As far as I can tell, it's the story of Halleluiah/Holly, his friend? girlfriend? acquaintance? lover? sister? whatever. The album opens with Finn meeting Holly ("She said always remember / Never to trust me. She said that the first night that she met me.") and continues through Holly's fall into drugs and eventual rise through religion to a resurrection (the final track is "How a Resurrection Really Feels"). Mixed in are a few other characters and situations, as the lyrics again refer to other songs, both on this album and the previous one.
So:
PERSONS OF THE PLAY
Halleluiah/"Holly": a prostitute in Minnesota who lost her faith, struggled with drug addiction, and eventually left parties for religion
Craig Finn: still deep-voiced, he doesn't seem to love Holly but probably respects her
Charlemagne: definitely a drug dealer, apparently dead from a cocaine overdose
Your Little Hoodrat Friend: possibly Holly; Finn is emphatic that his relationship with this person is platonic
Stevie Nix: the singer of Fleetwood Mac gets a song title all her own, except she is not mentioned in the song
Gideon: apparently had sex with Holly in Denver
LOCATIONS
the banks of the Mississippi River
Penetration Park
Upper Midwest
Ybor City, Florida
St. Paul, Minnesota
confessionals
Denver, Colorado
Chicago, Illinois
New York City
I think I would give the edge to The Hold Steady Almost Killed Me in terms of lyrics, but just by a bit. At times Separation Sunday is a little forced, I think, because he tries to tell a more coherent story. They're still way, way better than anything anyone will ever sing in Top 40 songs. Hahahaha, I just made myself think of someone doing a Hold Steady song on American Idol. "If you don't get born again, at least you'll get high as hell!" on FOX. I would love that person forever.
The music, though, is notably different. This album is more blues-based, with distinctive guitar riffs and a lot, lot more keyboard. Usually "bluesy" would be a death sentence from me, but it works very well, especially in the second track, "Cattle and the Creeping Things." The whole album has a coherence and arc that I think works better than the lyrics. I wish for more bass (as the name of the blog indicates, bass is the most important instrument in rock, followed by drums and guitar. Vocals are optional and thus not included.), but it's still really good. See the strangely addictive "Charlemagne in Sweatpants" for an example of blues-influenced rock with good bass.
I'm trying to keep this one short, so I'll leave you with this:
Advantages: very solid rock songs; good use of organ/keyboard; fascinating lyrics--good enough that I sometimes read them without listening to the music; extremely catchy at times; anyone can sing along, if they get atonal and crazy-sounding enough.
Disadvantages: some people will hate Craig Finn's voice, and it's a big part of The Hold Steady; can very occasionally get repetitive, lyrically and musically; songs are not cheerful and treat some subjects, like religion and drug addiction, rather roughly.
Grade: B+. It could do just a little better sometimes, with its occasional slow out-of-place song ("Don't Let Me Explode," despite its awesome title, comes to mind). Overall, it just rocks.
The Hold Steady website
The Hold Steady lyrics page
Buy Separation Sunday on Amazon.com
That's today's story. Listen to The Hold Steady.
Love,
Steve
Friday, June 23, 2006
Goodbye, Chile. Hello, hot as hell.
I'm not going to try to summarize Santiago. Sorry. I can tell you I improved my Spanish, and it helped convince me that I should maybe live outside the U.S. I think. Who fucking knows. Anyway it was awesome and I wish I could go again.
When I got home Joe surprised me by showing up. Boy's finally got a job in Chicago. It was cool to see him for about one day. Tuesday I came in, Thursday I left. Thanks, world.
Now I'm in Dayton for about six weeks, tutoring for STEP. That's Summer Transition Enrollment Program, the students who can get into UD if they pass two classes during the summer. I don't have a great idea what to expect, but it should be pretty good. Good summer job, especially considering the Santiago trip limited my time to earn money this summer.
What am I obsessed with lately? Good question. Separation Sunday, the second album from The Hold Steady. I'm predicting a review soon. It's just really good, even though he does not once say "Hold steady!"
I think that's all for now. I might have some other things to put up in the near future, but the first thing to do is buy a mouse. I'm not dealing with this touchpad shit.
I'm not sure I can deal with this Founders Hall during the summer shit either, but I don't see any other options.
More, better, posting tomorrow. For now, enjoy the regret index courtesy of Qwantz.com.
Love,
Steve
When I got home Joe surprised me by showing up. Boy's finally got a job in Chicago. It was cool to see him for about one day. Tuesday I came in, Thursday I left. Thanks, world.
Now I'm in Dayton for about six weeks, tutoring for STEP. That's Summer Transition Enrollment Program, the students who can get into UD if they pass two classes during the summer. I don't have a great idea what to expect, but it should be pretty good. Good summer job, especially considering the Santiago trip limited my time to earn money this summer.
What am I obsessed with lately? Good question. Separation Sunday, the second album from The Hold Steady. I'm predicting a review soon. It's just really good, even though he does not once say "Hold steady!"
I think that's all for now. I might have some other things to put up in the near future, but the first thing to do is buy a mouse. I'm not dealing with this touchpad shit.
I'm not sure I can deal with this Founders Hall during the summer shit either, but I don't see any other options.
More, better, posting tomorrow. For now, enjoy the regret index courtesy of Qwantz.com.
Love,
Steve
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Life in prison ain't what it used to be, I guess.
Ahh, if only there were more issues of Flyer News for me to pollute with my thoughts.
Take this Zacarias Moussaoui, the "twentieth hijacker" of September 11 who was given life in prison for helping plan the terrorist attacks.
On BBC News there is a poll and comment section for this story. And I am disgusted by how many people, many from the U.S., say the sentence is not hard enough. Moussaoui should be executed, they say.
Maybe they don't understand "life in prison." Life. In prison. Now, I'd never claim life outside of prison is exactly wonderful, but life in prison is probably even less so. Moussaoui will spend thirty or forty years wandering around, praying and lifting weights, and then he will die.
I guess that's just not enough for some people. They really want him to be executed, even if it takes several tries.
People! We're still executing here? What the fuck?
I know, I know. People will say "justice must be served." Their petty, vengeful, spiteful, pathetic concept of justice must be served by us slaves of justice.
Listen: I'm tired of hearing about justice. Justice has had its chance, and it just doesn't exist. Certainly not in the legal sense. The big secret is: I don't think we should be servants of justice. It's too subjective, mean-spirited, and slanted against the poor and minorities.
I recommend mercy instead. It has the backing of every major religion. It will never lead us to kill someone, guilty or innocent. Speaking practically, it would be a relief on our prison system. And it would promote tolerance, peace and unity.
I know some people speak of closure for the victims' families. That is fucked up.
This is dangerous territory. We're supposed to be polite, deferential, even in awe of victims' families, especially 9/11 families. But demanding the death of someone to make up for a previous death is petty and small-minded. I don't think it matters who you are. That's just a little crazy.
But whatever. I doubt we'll hear anything else about Moussaoui before he dies in jail.
In other news:
Only 15 days until I go to Chile. Shit, shit, shit.
Only about 2 days until I go back to Cuyahoga Falls. 3/4 done with undergrad. Ridiculous.
And I guess that's about it. I'm not sure I'll post again until the middle of the summer or so.
So, goodbye.
Love,
Steve
Take this Zacarias Moussaoui, the "twentieth hijacker" of September 11 who was given life in prison for helping plan the terrorist attacks.
On BBC News there is a poll and comment section for this story. And I am disgusted by how many people, many from the U.S., say the sentence is not hard enough. Moussaoui should be executed, they say.
Maybe they don't understand "life in prison." Life. In prison. Now, I'd never claim life outside of prison is exactly wonderful, but life in prison is probably even less so. Moussaoui will spend thirty or forty years wandering around, praying and lifting weights, and then he will die.
I guess that's just not enough for some people. They really want him to be executed, even if it takes several tries.
People! We're still executing here? What the fuck?
I know, I know. People will say "justice must be served." Their petty, vengeful, spiteful, pathetic concept of justice must be served by us slaves of justice.
Listen: I'm tired of hearing about justice. Justice has had its chance, and it just doesn't exist. Certainly not in the legal sense. The big secret is: I don't think we should be servants of justice. It's too subjective, mean-spirited, and slanted against the poor and minorities.
I recommend mercy instead. It has the backing of every major religion. It will never lead us to kill someone, guilty or innocent. Speaking practically, it would be a relief on our prison system. And it would promote tolerance, peace and unity.
I know some people speak of closure for the victims' families. That is fucked up.
This is dangerous territory. We're supposed to be polite, deferential, even in awe of victims' families, especially 9/11 families. But demanding the death of someone to make up for a previous death is petty and small-minded. I don't think it matters who you are. That's just a little crazy.
But whatever. I doubt we'll hear anything else about Moussaoui before he dies in jail.
In other news:
Only 15 days until I go to Chile. Shit, shit, shit.
Only about 2 days until I go back to Cuyahoga Falls. 3/4 done with undergrad. Ridiculous.
And I guess that's about it. I'm not sure I'll post again until the middle of the summer or so.
So, goodbye.
Love,
Steve
Friday, April 28, 2006
I almost feel guilty, doing so little during study days.
Oh, study days.
You make me so fucking lazy.
Yesterday I went to Bob Evans with T until 12, then slept from 12 to 2.
Then I literally sat around doing nothing until about 5.
At 5 I called the cops. Some people across the street had a megaphone and were saying dumb stuff into it. Fine, whatever.
Then a girl walked by and they said--as I recall--"You have a nice heiny. I want to touch it."
Whoops. Time for the UDPD.
Unfortunately, the cops would be about 20 minutes. Fine. I would wait. But 15 minutes later, when the guys hadn't said anything else with the megaphone, I realized the cops wouldn't be able to do anything. Especially since Jonny G, Justin and Jason, who were all on our porch at the time, hadn't noticed the comment. So I called the cops back and told them to forget it.
Then Justin, G, Jason and I went to the Circle of Friends end of the year party at Carillon Park. Kathy is the president, and she told us to come. Free pizza.
Circle of Friends is the group on campus that works with local adults who are mentally handicapped. We played kickball. Justin, G, Jason and I were the outfield, meaning we laid in the grass and threw a frisbee to each other.
As mentally handicapped people do, these people wore their hearts on their sleeves. As always, this was a hilarious, exciting and painful experience.
Then I went to The Fever, a one-man play. Nick Bays, a graduating senior in theater, performed it. It was awesome.
Nick was an American in a "poor country" who wakes up feeling violently ill. He stumbles to the tiolet to vomit and overhears a crowd outside, where an execution is planned. From there, the character just takes off, describing his privileged childhood, the simplicity of his life, and the unfairness of global capitalism.
In the end, he rejects the life of his family and friends, and he faces the idea that his actions rarely match his ideals.
Maybe this will sum it up. After the show, I saw Nick and congratulated him, because he really did a great job. And he said, "I thought you would like that one."
It was really cool and if it wasn't over I'd recommend you go see it.
I only have one exam, and a couple papers. Then I'm 3/4 done...with undergrad.
Conversation with Alyssa only reminds me that I'm not ready for Chile. But I'm going soon anyway.
Second session of the summer I'll be in Dayton. Let me know if you'll be around.
Love,
Steve
You make me so fucking lazy.
Yesterday I went to Bob Evans with T until 12, then slept from 12 to 2.
Then I literally sat around doing nothing until about 5.
At 5 I called the cops. Some people across the street had a megaphone and were saying dumb stuff into it. Fine, whatever.
Then a girl walked by and they said--as I recall--"You have a nice heiny. I want to touch it."
Whoops. Time for the UDPD.
Unfortunately, the cops would be about 20 minutes. Fine. I would wait. But 15 minutes later, when the guys hadn't said anything else with the megaphone, I realized the cops wouldn't be able to do anything. Especially since Jonny G, Justin and Jason, who were all on our porch at the time, hadn't noticed the comment. So I called the cops back and told them to forget it.
Then Justin, G, Jason and I went to the Circle of Friends end of the year party at Carillon Park. Kathy is the president, and she told us to come. Free pizza.
Circle of Friends is the group on campus that works with local adults who are mentally handicapped. We played kickball. Justin, G, Jason and I were the outfield, meaning we laid in the grass and threw a frisbee to each other.
As mentally handicapped people do, these people wore their hearts on their sleeves. As always, this was a hilarious, exciting and painful experience.
Then I went to The Fever, a one-man play. Nick Bays, a graduating senior in theater, performed it. It was awesome.
Nick was an American in a "poor country" who wakes up feeling violently ill. He stumbles to the tiolet to vomit and overhears a crowd outside, where an execution is planned. From there, the character just takes off, describing his privileged childhood, the simplicity of his life, and the unfairness of global capitalism.
In the end, he rejects the life of his family and friends, and he faces the idea that his actions rarely match his ideals.
Maybe this will sum it up. After the show, I saw Nick and congratulated him, because he really did a great job. And he said, "I thought you would like that one."
It was really cool and if it wasn't over I'd recommend you go see it.
I only have one exam, and a couple papers. Then I'm 3/4 done...with undergrad.
Conversation with Alyssa only reminds me that I'm not ready for Chile. But I'm going soon anyway.
Second session of the summer I'll be in Dayton. Let me know if you'll be around.
Love,
Steve
Monday, April 24, 2006
At the request of Tom Hanlon, I get back to the blog.
Okay it's been a long long time.
1. Vonnegut class: currently two sections. OH MAN. It's getting somewhat exciting. I think right now there are 22 people total in it. I should probably prepare in some way.
2. Chile: iré a Santiago en cuatro semanas. Estoy muy nervioso, pero yo estado practicando con Alyssa y me mejoré mucho. I'm still sure that I'm going to be way over my head, but I'll understand a little bit.
3. Flyer News: only one more issue left this year, and I didn't submit anything. So my current standing is:
4 opinion articles (A, B, C, D) - D is my newest, Thomas "HAL" Hanlon.
4 responses (A, B, C, D)
about 7 or 8 personal e-mails ("I SUPPORT OUR TROOPS WHO ARE FIGHTING THE ISLAMOFASCISTS...")
and about 300 personal responses ("I saw your article! But I didn't read it.")
And there you have it. That's the update on my life.
Oh, I just read Amusing Ourselves to Death by Neil Postman. It's a book for my sociology class, and it's pretty awesome. It's about how TV ruins everything.
Okay so now I need to take a shower.
Hey I'll be in Dayton for the second summer session, starting June 24. Anyone need a roommate? I think I'd rather not live in Founders.
Okay go time.
Love,
Steve
1. Vonnegut class: currently two sections. OH MAN. It's getting somewhat exciting. I think right now there are 22 people total in it. I should probably prepare in some way.
2. Chile: iré a Santiago en cuatro semanas. Estoy muy nervioso, pero yo estado practicando con Alyssa y me mejoré mucho. I'm still sure that I'm going to be way over my head, but I'll understand a little bit.
3. Flyer News: only one more issue left this year, and I didn't submit anything. So my current standing is:
4 opinion articles (A, B, C, D) - D is my newest, Thomas "HAL" Hanlon.
4 responses (A, B, C, D)
about 7 or 8 personal e-mails ("I SUPPORT OUR TROOPS WHO ARE FIGHTING THE ISLAMOFASCISTS...")
and about 300 personal responses ("I saw your article! But I didn't read it.")
And there you have it. That's the update on my life.
Oh, I just read Amusing Ourselves to Death by Neil Postman. It's a book for my sociology class, and it's pretty awesome. It's about how TV ruins everything.
Okay so now I need to take a shower.
Hey I'll be in Dayton for the second summer session, starting June 24. Anyone need a roommate? I think I'd rather not live in Founders.
Okay go time.
Love,
Steve
Friday, April 07, 2006
Flyer News is getting interesting.
Remember that "Support Our Troops" article I wrote?
It didn't go over so well.
Witness:
http://www.flyernews.com/article.php?section=Opinions&volume=53&issue=38&artnum=05
and
http://www.flyernews.com/article.php?section=Opinions&volume=53&issue=38&artnum=06
My response will be coming soon. It will rock.
Here's a preview. I should warn you, it's currently over the 600-word limit recommended by Flyer News. So I might have to find some things to cut out by Sunday, when I submit it. We'll see. Enjoy.
Also: this article may not make sense without reading the two letters above.
I guess it’s good to know people are reading Flyer News.
First, let me acknowledge the dumb stuff in my previous article about “Support Our Troops” bumper magnets.
I shouldn’t have said “there is nothing you can do to support our troops.” That is a false exaggeration. As Melinda Warthman demonstrated in her letter to the editor, there are many things you can do, if you wish, to support American troops. This contrasts perfectly with the “bland statement” of “vague patriotic beliefs” that I think bumper magnets exemplify.
I was happy to read Warthman’s letter because it demonstrated that people do take action on issues like this. Whether it is supporting the military or any other issue, it is good to know some people take action for a cause if they believe in it.
I also regret not being very clear in certain areas, which probably led to Erik Elam’s letter.
I think he misunderstood the point of the article. My goal was to question one particular expression of patriotism. He seemed to believe the purpose was to disparage the military, which it was not. But, in order not to disappoint Elam, I can give him the article he was expecting.
He asked if I would step forward if the military were not in place. Answer: no.
There are plenty of things that I think I would die for. None of them is a nation, but things like equality, mercy and peace are so important to me that I would die for them.
But I can’t think of a single thing that I would kill for. I happen to think ending lives is wrong, and it’s not something that I take lightly.
I cannot grasp the logic that certain lives, American lives, are worth protecting, while other lives, foreign ones, are not. They are worth destroying, apparently.
And this is true of past wars along with current ones: I would not have killed foreign men and boys in World War II, Elam’s example, nor in any war since. Let me explain.
Elam was correct in recognizing that I am a Marxist, and as such, I know troops are not to be ridiculed. After all, they are too often men and women – barely beyond childhood – from lower social classes without many options. In every nation, they are used as tools to protect the interests of the upper classes, which includes most students at UD. So the ridicule and shame, the “looking down on” that Elam refers to, should be placed on us, not them.
This is why I compared the military to social welfare and public education: all three are ways for the ruling class to deal with the youth of the underclass. In a response to my article via e-mail, sophomore Michael Langlais unwittingly supported this: “I feel the military straightens out many youths that ‘social welfare’ and ‘public education’ leave behind.” The difference, of course, is that social welfare and public education don’t involve any killing at all. That’s why I think they are good alternatives to the military.
That’s also why I don’t hate the troops, and why I will not spit on them as people did during and after the Vietnam War. I know they are just doing what they’re told. Now, if I could spit on the decision-makers, the capitalists who direct them, I’m not sure I wouldn’t.
Through John Stuart Mill’s quotation, Elam criticized me for a “decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling.” I have thought deeply about this issue on moral grounds, and my verdict is that I will not kill people, and I will not suggest that killing can ever lead to peace. If peace is your goal, peace must be your instrument.
As for patriotic feeling: I never claimed to have it. As I said, I would not die or kill for this country, or any other in history. My state of patriotic feeling is about as decayed and degraded as possible.
Criticize me for that, if you wish. But I know I will never kill for this country, or for anything else. At least I cannot be criticized for that.
Let me know what you think.
It didn't go over so well.
Witness:
http://www.flyernews.com/article.php?section=Opinions&volume=53&issue=38&artnum=05
and
http://www.flyernews.com/article.php?section=Opinions&volume=53&issue=38&artnum=06
My response will be coming soon. It will rock.
Here's a preview. I should warn you, it's currently over the 600-word limit recommended by Flyer News. So I might have to find some things to cut out by Sunday, when I submit it. We'll see. Enjoy.
Also: this article may not make sense without reading the two letters above.
I guess it’s good to know people are reading Flyer News.
First, let me acknowledge the dumb stuff in my previous article about “Support Our Troops” bumper magnets.
I shouldn’t have said “there is nothing you can do to support our troops.” That is a false exaggeration. As Melinda Warthman demonstrated in her letter to the editor, there are many things you can do, if you wish, to support American troops. This contrasts perfectly with the “bland statement” of “vague patriotic beliefs” that I think bumper magnets exemplify.
I was happy to read Warthman’s letter because it demonstrated that people do take action on issues like this. Whether it is supporting the military or any other issue, it is good to know some people take action for a cause if they believe in it.
I also regret not being very clear in certain areas, which probably led to Erik Elam’s letter.
I think he misunderstood the point of the article. My goal was to question one particular expression of patriotism. He seemed to believe the purpose was to disparage the military, which it was not. But, in order not to disappoint Elam, I can give him the article he was expecting.
He asked if I would step forward if the military were not in place. Answer: no.
There are plenty of things that I think I would die for. None of them is a nation, but things like equality, mercy and peace are so important to me that I would die for them.
But I can’t think of a single thing that I would kill for. I happen to think ending lives is wrong, and it’s not something that I take lightly.
I cannot grasp the logic that certain lives, American lives, are worth protecting, while other lives, foreign ones, are not. They are worth destroying, apparently.
And this is true of past wars along with current ones: I would not have killed foreign men and boys in World War II, Elam’s example, nor in any war since. Let me explain.
Elam was correct in recognizing that I am a Marxist, and as such, I know troops are not to be ridiculed. After all, they are too often men and women – barely beyond childhood – from lower social classes without many options. In every nation, they are used as tools to protect the interests of the upper classes, which includes most students at UD. So the ridicule and shame, the “looking down on” that Elam refers to, should be placed on us, not them.
This is why I compared the military to social welfare and public education: all three are ways for the ruling class to deal with the youth of the underclass. In a response to my article via e-mail, sophomore Michael Langlais unwittingly supported this: “I feel the military straightens out many youths that ‘social welfare’ and ‘public education’ leave behind.” The difference, of course, is that social welfare and public education don’t involve any killing at all. That’s why I think they are good alternatives to the military.
That’s also why I don’t hate the troops, and why I will not spit on them as people did during and after the Vietnam War. I know they are just doing what they’re told. Now, if I could spit on the decision-makers, the capitalists who direct them, I’m not sure I wouldn’t.
Through John Stuart Mill’s quotation, Elam criticized me for a “decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling.” I have thought deeply about this issue on moral grounds, and my verdict is that I will not kill people, and I will not suggest that killing can ever lead to peace. If peace is your goal, peace must be your instrument.
As for patriotic feeling: I never claimed to have it. As I said, I would not die or kill for this country, or any other in history. My state of patriotic feeling is about as decayed and degraded as possible.
Criticize me for that, if you wish. But I know I will never kill for this country, or for anything else. At least I cannot be criticized for that.
Let me know what you think.
Saturday, April 01, 2006
My second opinion article.
Okay, apparently the Flyer News website still hasn't changed.
So here's my latest opinion article. It came out not too long ago, Thursday I think, and I've heard good things from some people already.
Always makes me feel special to know other people hold crazy opinions.
Enjoy.
“Support Our Troops” bumper magnets are meaningless feel-good gestures
Every time I get out and drive somewhere – which is not very often – I am always surprised by the number of yellow ribbon-shaped “Support Our Troops” bumper magnets I see.
Old beat-up trucks, new European cars, American minivans: all of them remind me to support our troops. They are often accompanied by their flag-colored cousins which say, I don’t know, “God Bless America” or something.
I have a few questions about that little command, “Support Our Troops,” but I’ve never been able to ask someone. I’m not bold enough to roll my window down at Stewart and Edwin C. Moses, I guess.
How, for example, should I support our troops? I pay taxes, and a healthy portion – or an unhealthy portion – of those go to the armed forces. Does that count?
Or should I volunteer? Is that what they want? Is it possible that every bearer of a “SOT” bumper sticker is a member of the Army Reserves or an armed forces recruiter?
No, that is not possible. If they were, those people would be guarding checkpoints in Iraq, not cruising down 75 North with their left turn signals terminally blinking.
So, please, what does “Support Our Troops” mean? How are they supporting our troops more than I am? What’s their secret?
Is it possible that the magnets don’t mean anything? Is it possible that, in a rush of post-9/11 patriotism, those people bought and applied a bumper magnet without considering that doing so does not, in fact, support our troops?
Of course, the magnets aren’t the real problem. I understand that all bumper stickers are essentially pointless self-serving phrases.
The difference between “Support Our Troops” and, say, “Meat Is Murder” is that one recommends a specific course of action – stop eating meat – and the other suggests a sort of bland thumbs-up nationalism with no actual action required.
I recognize that I have a bias here. I won’t tread lightly around it: I don’t care to support our troops at all. I just don’t think they’re as useful as social welfare programs or good public education.
Maybe that’s why I’m bewildered about the “SOT” magnets. I’ve never heard my conservative or patriotic friends complain that these magnets express an empty sentiment without requiring any real commitment.
In the “9/11 Never Forget” world, where flag-flying is the new national pastime, it seems blatantly obvious that these magnets just don’t do anything. I could convey a similar message with a bumper sticker that says something like “Hooray Peanut Butter!” or “I like socks.”
The people who display these magnets aren’t supporting our troops any more than I am. They’re just supporting a faceless corporation that manufactures bumper magnets.
And worse than the owners of other bumper stickers, they aren’t supporting a cause, either. They haven’t convinced me or anyone else to support our troops because there is nothing you can do to support our troops.
Please, if you want to make a political statement, go ahead. If you’re proud we invaded Iraq, or you hope we win the war, or you want us to invade North Korea and Iran, just say so. I’d like to see that.
But don’t send me the message that you don’t have a message. Don’t make a bland statement that just demonstrates that you hold vague patriotic beliefs.
So here's my latest opinion article. It came out not too long ago, Thursday I think, and I've heard good things from some people already.
Always makes me feel special to know other people hold crazy opinions.
Enjoy.
“Support Our Troops” bumper magnets are meaningless feel-good gestures
Every time I get out and drive somewhere – which is not very often – I am always surprised by the number of yellow ribbon-shaped “Support Our Troops” bumper magnets I see.
Old beat-up trucks, new European cars, American minivans: all of them remind me to support our troops. They are often accompanied by their flag-colored cousins which say, I don’t know, “God Bless America” or something.
I have a few questions about that little command, “Support Our Troops,” but I’ve never been able to ask someone. I’m not bold enough to roll my window down at Stewart and Edwin C. Moses, I guess.
How, for example, should I support our troops? I pay taxes, and a healthy portion – or an unhealthy portion – of those go to the armed forces. Does that count?
Or should I volunteer? Is that what they want? Is it possible that every bearer of a “SOT” bumper sticker is a member of the Army Reserves or an armed forces recruiter?
No, that is not possible. If they were, those people would be guarding checkpoints in Iraq, not cruising down 75 North with their left turn signals terminally blinking.
So, please, what does “Support Our Troops” mean? How are they supporting our troops more than I am? What’s their secret?
Is it possible that the magnets don’t mean anything? Is it possible that, in a rush of post-9/11 patriotism, those people bought and applied a bumper magnet without considering that doing so does not, in fact, support our troops?
Of course, the magnets aren’t the real problem. I understand that all bumper stickers are essentially pointless self-serving phrases.
The difference between “Support Our Troops” and, say, “Meat Is Murder” is that one recommends a specific course of action – stop eating meat – and the other suggests a sort of bland thumbs-up nationalism with no actual action required.
I recognize that I have a bias here. I won’t tread lightly around it: I don’t care to support our troops at all. I just don’t think they’re as useful as social welfare programs or good public education.
Maybe that’s why I’m bewildered about the “SOT” magnets. I’ve never heard my conservative or patriotic friends complain that these magnets express an empty sentiment without requiring any real commitment.
In the “9/11 Never Forget” world, where flag-flying is the new national pastime, it seems blatantly obvious that these magnets just don’t do anything. I could convey a similar message with a bumper sticker that says something like “Hooray Peanut Butter!” or “I like socks.”
The people who display these magnets aren’t supporting our troops any more than I am. They’re just supporting a faceless corporation that manufactures bumper magnets.
And worse than the owners of other bumper stickers, they aren’t supporting a cause, either. They haven’t convinced me or anyone else to support our troops because there is nothing you can do to support our troops.
Please, if you want to make a political statement, go ahead. If you’re proud we invaded Iraq, or you hope we win the war, or you want us to invade North Korea and Iran, just say so. I’d like to see that.
But don’t send me the message that you don’t have a message. Don’t make a bland statement that just demonstrates that you hold vague patriotic beliefs.
Friday, March 31, 2006
Another polite reminder.
Please witness the Dolly Rebels' musical performance Saturday, April 1, at 8:00 in KU Pub. Admission is $3. Overwhelming sense of euphoria included.
Thank you.
Love,
Steve
Thank you.
Love,
Steve
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Let me get this off my chest and move on.
Title: House of Leaves
Author: Mark Z. Danielewski
Publisher: Pantheon Books, 2000
I finished House of Leaves about a week ago, maybe more.
I would really rather not open it again.
First, the style:
This is what I would call a postmodern novel. In essence, that means it won't follow certain rules that one expects novels to follow. This includes publishing various editions of the text (see the bottom of this page), providing an unbelievable number of footnotes (here), and using multiple voices in the text.
At other points in the book, Danielewski bends the rules of presentation. Take this page, which is pretty representative of the book at its strangest. Elsewhere, pages contain one sentence or fewer, like this. The layout of the novel challenges expectations of what a novel is.
The story is even crazier. In fact, which story should I start with?
Zampano is an old blind man who dies. Johnny Truant finds Zampano's manuscript, The Navidson Record. Johnny Truant reads Zampano's book and slowly goes crazy transcribing it. What we read is mostly The Navidson Record by Zampano. The Navidson Record is about a movie, invented in Zampano's head, with the same title. In the movie, photojournalist Will Navidson, his partner Karen Green, and their children make a documentary about moving into their new house.
They soon discover this house is larger inside than outside--it has extra rooms, mysterious pitch-black freezing-cold rooms.
Wait, let me go back. Maybe "They SOON discover" is being too kind.
Zampano loves his digressions. And in his insane made-up world, The Navidson Record (the film) has a cultural impact on the level of the Bible. So every two pages or so, he stops and lets us know what the experts, the academics, the obsessive Navidson freaks--none of whom are real, remember--have to say. He has made-up quotes ranging from Good Housekeeping to Psychology Today. These account for many of the book's obscene number of footnotes.
So the story plays out pretty slowly, but it is interrupted every few pages by a rambling Johnny Truant footnote. Truant is an aimless drug addict, teetering on the edge of a mental breakdown. His footnotes wander aimlessly, grasping at some sort of bizarre half-reality in which he fears The Navidson Record and yet devotes his life to it.
Those are the players. Navidson, Zampano, Johnny Truant.
Now, let me go way back to when I first opened this book, in my parents' house, just before I came back here to Dayton at the end of spring break. My mom saw me with House of Leaves open and stopped in her tracks.
"Don't read that," she told me.
"Why not?" I asked.
"I tried to read it once. I had to put it down," she said. "It gave me a bad feeling."
Truly a ringing endorsement. But I pressed on. C'mon, it's a fucking book.
Well, in some ways I see what she meant. It's just not pleasant to read. Something about it is...not threatening, exactly, but upsetting. This is probably the most effective book I've ever read. It really makes you feel wrong.
At the same time, the layers of symbolism and hidden meaning are incredible. At least once a chapter, I would lower the book in shock because Danielewski just blew my mind again. The characters are perfectly crafted, and the action is so painfully paced--Zampano sets the story aside for six pages, then suddenly things are happening like crazy--that I couldn't put the book down, even though I knew it was making me feel bad.
The horror story is incredibly effective--I really care about the characters, I am really frightened by the mysterious evil, and I really want to know what the fuck is going on. Danielewski's greatest success, I think, is keeping the nameless terror in the void just beyond the reader's grasp.
The book is a success in many, many ways. Its haunting themes and eventual conclusion are wonderful. It truly is frightening and unsettling, and its characters are all fantastic.
So what does it do wrong? The same thing, I think, that At the Drive-In does wrong, for many people. It just won't stay put. It won't act right. In some sections, parts of words or entire words are missing, burned by ashes, Johnny Truant tells us. In other cases, Zampano has removed text with ink blots, which Johnny Truant represents with bold black XXXXs. The novel refuses to be contained, grasped, or mapped out. Its unrelenting confusion can turn people off.
That said, I've already had a few requests to borrow the book. Patrick Coate gets it first, and I'm sure he'll enjoy it. Mostly.
Oh, I never explained why the word house is always presented in blue. This occurs in the book, of course, and it is never explained there. In fact, it's thrown in the reader's face in the index (of course House of Leaves has an index); the index reads "house (blue)," followed by many entries, and "house (black)...DNE". So there. I don't know why he does it, but it adds to the unsettling feeling in its own way.
Summary: House of Leaves is one of the most challenging books I've read recently. It defies explanation. It is only approachable as an engima, a wall to climb, and its success lies in puzzling and disturbing the reader. Don't come to this book lightly.
Grade: I'm very tempted to give House of Leaves two grades; one if you're ready for the book and one if you aren't. But I think I'll settle for a B. I don't think it did anything wrong, and I don't think it could be improved in any way, so in that way it gets an A. Ultimately, though, I can't give something an A if I don't think people will like reading it. Think of shredder guitarist Steve Vai. He doesn't play poorly, but he sure shouldn't get an A--I can't get through two of his songs myself. So:
Grade: B.
Please, ask any questions you have. I'd be glad to deflect and ignore them.
One more thing: any day now, my new opinion article should appear at the Flyer News website. It's a good one. Enjoy.
Love,
Steve
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
A few Internet discoveries, and another empty promise.
Hello again.
I don't care much for the Internet. It can never replace the telegraph machine, as far as I'm concerned, or a letter in the mail. And nothing beats a good old smoke signal.
But I'll admit the Internet has its benefits. Take Dinosaur Comics at qwantz.com. These are funny. I like them. Click the line of text right under "Dinosaur Comics" to go to a random strip. The great part: every strip is the same except the dialogue! Every single strip looks the same! It's the funniest, laziest thing I know. But the dialogue is glorious and I love it.
Next up: I might be getting obsessed with Dave Eggers, but I didn't do this all on my own. Renata Marchione pointed me to the McSweeney's website, which is just amazing. Eggers and some others founded McSweeney's, which is a journal that I've technically never read. But I love Eggers (1, 2), so I figured I'd love McSweeney's website.
It is hilarious. McSweeney's offers pages and pages of ridiculous essays and these made-up lists that seriously had Renata and I dying of laughter at work. Take Authorial Candy Bars,with Their Respective Tag Lines,That Weren't as Successful as the Oh Henry! Candy Bar, by Jonathan Shipley. Or Methods Other Than Song by Which One Can Be Killed Softly, by Jonathan Holley and Emily Lawton. Just the title of that one made me kind of giggle. Or even Good Casino Ads / Bad Things for Someone to Say About Your Mom by Molly Dolan. I admit I'm just picking these at random. Don't get started on these if you have something important to do. But they're wonderful.
Here's the empty promise: a review is coming soon! I'll break down House of Leaves for you into small, manageable, easy-to-understand parts. Of course I am lying. But I'll do what I can.
So look forward to that.
And see the Dolly Rebels Saturday, April 1, between 8 and 12 in the KU pub. $3. 25 minutes. It's worth it.
Love,
Steve
I don't care much for the Internet. It can never replace the telegraph machine, as far as I'm concerned, or a letter in the mail. And nothing beats a good old smoke signal.
But I'll admit the Internet has its benefits. Take Dinosaur Comics at qwantz.com. These are funny. I like them. Click the line of text right under "Dinosaur Comics" to go to a random strip. The great part: every strip is the same except the dialogue! Every single strip looks the same! It's the funniest, laziest thing I know. But the dialogue is glorious and I love it.
Next up: I might be getting obsessed with Dave Eggers, but I didn't do this all on my own. Renata Marchione pointed me to the McSweeney's website, which is just amazing. Eggers and some others founded McSweeney's, which is a journal that I've technically never read. But I love Eggers (1, 2), so I figured I'd love McSweeney's website.
It is hilarious. McSweeney's offers pages and pages of ridiculous essays and these made-up lists that seriously had Renata and I dying of laughter at work. Take Authorial Candy Bars,with Their Respective Tag Lines,That Weren't as Successful as the Oh Henry! Candy Bar, by Jonathan Shipley. Or Methods Other Than Song by Which One Can Be Killed Softly, by Jonathan Holley and Emily Lawton. Just the title of that one made me kind of giggle. Or even Good Casino Ads / Bad Things for Someone to Say About Your Mom by Molly Dolan. I admit I'm just picking these at random. Don't get started on these if you have something important to do. But they're wonderful.
Here's the empty promise: a review is coming soon! I'll break down House of Leaves for you into small, manageable, easy-to-understand parts. Of course I am lying. But I'll do what I can.
So look forward to that.
And see the Dolly Rebels Saturday, April 1, between 8 and 12 in the KU pub. $3. 25 minutes. It's worth it.
Love,
Steve
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