Coach wants his chocolate, and they’re gonna give it to him.
You know why I’m happy? Because beside this video on YouTube, in the video’s description, the date displays October 22, 2009. That’s today. So therefore…
FUCK YOU, SLOWPOKE.
Also, OMGWTFBBQJIZZINMYPANTSHOLYSHITLEFT4DEAD2INTROMOVIEOMG.
I’m gonna be frank. The only reason why I’m writing this right now is because I have absolutely nothing better to do, and I have a total of 4 posts for this month, which is an unlucky number in Chinese mythology, so I have to stick to my roots and remedy this situation.
Wanna know how I’m gonna do it? Okay. Here’s the deal. I’m gonna write this this blog post, and then I’m gonna publish it to my blog, and then I’m gonna have five blog posts for October. Then, it won’t be an unlucky number beside my archives under October. Problem solved.
Solving problems is a real big thing these days. I mean, we’re surrounded by problems every day, and when you think about it, how many of those problems actually find a solution? Not many. How do you solve world poverty? Fuck if I know. Economic crises? Maybe if I stop spending money? How do I fix that fucking program so it does what its supposed to without me reinstalling and restarting and re-tinkering until my computer crashes and I buy another copy of the program?
See what I mean? I can solve simple problems, like what’s 4 x 5. 20, I think. Yeah, that sounds about right. I can solve problems like figuring out how to survive. I should eat food and drink water and take care of my body if I want to survive. I’d say I’m solving this problem continuously, and doing a damn good job at it.
You know what else I’m good at? Writing. I like to think I’m at least somewhat talented in this area. I can hold my own with a pen and a piece of paper. Give me a thesaurus or a dictionary, and I can pump out a well structured piece of writing fit for scholars. That’s what I am. A scholar. I’m a thinker; an intellectual. Who are you?
You’re a reader, that’s who you are. And that’s a respectable quality, in my opinion. Reading’s a big thing these days. Sure, watching is really the big thing these days, but reading is still up there in the ways to obtain information through your eyes. Well, maybe cause those are the only two ways to obtain information, and reading is really just watching words with your eyes and getting visual information that way but that’s beside the point. The point is if you’re reading this still I congratulate you, you’ve stayed more interested in this than me.
I’m not even writing anything remotely humorous, or enlightening in any way whatsoever. What the fuck am I doing? No, what the fuck are you doing? Why did I add ‘fuck’ in those two questions when it was totally unnecessary? Stop reading this. Right now. I don’t think this is very good for you. I don’t even like reading it myself.
Jeez, what’s gotten into you?
Go back to whatever you were doing, before you hurt yourself.
Thought I’d spread the love across more genres to share. Rap’s been a rather exclusive genre to like, and a massive international culture has revolved around it for decades. Mostly, those interested in rap are interested in African-American culture (Wow, it sounds weird to write politcially correct.) or much of the social history of West Side and East Side black communities.
But this isn’t a post about social history, it’s about rap. So take a listen.
Alright, let’s get some things out of the way first.
1) He’s white. (Bear with me, Erin.)
2) He’s middle-aged. (I know what you’re thinking.)
3) I pretty much disregarded my first paragraph.
Yeah, it’s a white dude from Minneapolis. But I’m not going to compare him to some black rappers or elaborate on how comically white he actually looks. Instead, I’m going to tell you about this beat. And this beat is pretty damn slick. Also, the lyrics. These lyrics flow pretty damn well. Beat & flow. I may be misinformed, and I welcome anyone with extensive knowledge in the subject of rap elements to correct me, but I’m pretty sure those two things compose good rap.
Which is why this music is good, in my opinion. This guy has been underground for more than a decade, and he’s pretty successful by the looks of his Wikipedia page (Everyone should judge a subject’s success by the size of its Wiki page). Most of the songs off his latest album combine pretty interesting instrumentation to create some awesome beats. He tells stories from his raps. He rhymes about his hangovers and his love affairs. He doesn’t do intense social commentary rap or flamboyant gangsta rap. He just raps about normal stuff, almost. That’s pretty cool.
Look, I know he’s white, and I know you’re thinking Lupe Fiasco can school this fool, but work with me here. Racial segregation works both ways. Let’s just all have fun listening to some good rap, regardless. Plus he’s got a black dad, so cut him some slack.
Wow, okay. Maybe I’m stretching it with the racial segregation thing. Just, uhh…
Rap should unite us all? Yeah! Woo!
Check out his latest album When Life Gives You Lemons, You Paint That Shit Gold.
What a sick album name, don’t you think?
Wait, does that mean it’s now a sexilogy? Sounds kinky.
I’ll search up on the proper terminology, but right now I’ll settle on a trilogical sequel to a previous trilogy. Sounds good.
Now onto official business. Yes, slowpoke is in order, but I hardly think it matters anymore at the pace I’m going with this stuff. The popular Resident Evil franchise of games and movies has stemmed from Japanese stardom to the echelons of zombie pop culture in the past decade or so, and I’m not complaining. Even with the first Resident Evil movie, which was so long ago that I can’t even remember most of it, the transcription of game to screen struck home with much of the zombie fanbase in North America and overseas. The result?
This guy.
Proceeds go to charity.
Now, with three movies under his wing, Paul Anderson and the Resident Evil team have decided that this is far from beating a dead horse, and that if there was a horse being beat, it’s a zombie horse and ready to be beat some more. That’s my kind of thinking.
This new instalment, titled Resident Evil: Afterlife was originally in talks starting from 2005, and accumulated into the announcements prior and during the 2009 San Diego Comic-Con (slowwwwwpoke). All cast members had been signed, scripts have been drafted, and Paul Anderson is heading this right up until its release date slated for August 27, 2010.
I’ll get to more exciting news. Afterlife is currently being filmed in none other than the wondrous urban utopia of downtown Toronto, where zombies will most likely meet their match in hardened, ruthless Canadian yuppies. So If you’re in the area, or in the GTA, head down there to catch a glimpse of the cool zombie makeup or Milla Jovovich running down the side of city hall. Boy, that looks fun.
This time Anderson won’t be directing, but honestly I don’t see the impact in that. Who really watches zombie flicks for directing? Chumps, that’s who. So take that, snobby film critics. I’ll take my zombies fast or slow, infected or deceased, rabid or shambling. Who gives a crap? People are being eaten, that’s all we’ll ever need.
Anderson also states that he considers Afterlife to be a start of a ‘brand new trilogy’ for the franchise. He also says he’s excited. Zombies are always exciting. Zombiesssss. Yay. =D
You can catch more info on the upcoming film at ShockTillYouDrop or Bloody Disgusting.
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I’ve discovered that the proper term is ‘hexalogy’, not sexilogy.
Man, do I feel silly.
Damn it.
Damn it, damn it.
Don't stop. Listen for it. Listen for the sound.
Not now. You can't right now. Not your time. Not your place.
Listen for it. The sound. The soft pulse. Feel the sweat roll down your brow.
Touch the cold ground. Smell the air.
Smells like death.
No.
No, it's not. Don't let it draw you. Ignore the smell.
Feel the pavement. Spread your hands. Ground is wet.
Hear the sounds. Hear your ears ringing. Your heart pounding.
Soft, erratic.
The pain.
Feel the pain. It doesn't hurt. Not enough. Not now. Your lungs are fine.
They’re weak.
They’re fine. Don't let it stop you.
I'm tired.
Stay awake. Open your eyes.
I can't.
You can.
Too hard.
Keep trying. See everything around you. See it. Open your eyes.
See, damn it. Hear. Touch. Fight.
Live.
You know what I hate? Obligations. And responsibility.
The child of the two can be seen in my impressive number of reviews from last month.
That’s a $10 in my online wallet. Or is it $15? Whatever.
Your music sucks. No, seriously. It really does. The music you choose to listen to doesn’t reflect an intellectual thought process. Your choice in music proves to me that you have no grasp of musical appreciation and that your tastes are that of a deaf caveman. In fact, you have no right to listen to music at all. You’re not allowed to listen to music, now that I’ve heard your horrid likings. You are what makes the music industry keep producing this shit. You are why we can’t have nice things.
Suddenly, a giant pelican with a wingspan greater than Jesus’ crucified arms swoops down and picks me up, flies me to Mt. Kilimanjaro, which subsequently triggers and volcanic eruption. This divine pelican drops me into the white-hot lava below, leaving me and burn and boil in agony, to be forgotten forever. The pelican flourishingly flies upwards into the blue sky, flaps its majestic wings, and triumphantly cries:
“You fucking elitist douchebag.”
I’m sick and tired of hearing all this bullshit about how obscure bands are greater than so-and-so pop divas and mainstream music will never been respectable and blah blah blah. Taste is not a objective thing. There is no right and wrong.
Art is not an objective thing either. In art, there are no correct or incorrect answers. You can’t say that this kind of music is wrong. You violate the very laws (which I believe the only one is ‘Be creative’) of creative expression.
Yes, I have been to 4chan, specifically /mu/, the music board. Yes, I have seen their memes of Neutral Milk Hotel, Animal Collective and Radiohead hivemindedness. Yes, some of them are trolls. And yes, I know for a fact that they are elitists.
But still, a majority of /mu/tants are devoted fans of the teachings of the board. They follow its advice as if a guiding deity is showing them the light at the end of the tunnel. That light is not the outside though. You won’t find the answers to musical knowledge. That tunnel has a big, giant sign, hidden in the dark, saying ‘You tool.’ If you sacrifice that certain Kings of Leon song that is stuck in your head and try to supplement it with endless unknown prog-rock or post-hardcore, you are subjecting yourself to the very reason why this thinking exists.
Yes, Lady Gaga is a good artist. Yes, Lil’ Wayne knows how to sell albums. And yes, no matter how much you, I or everyone else hates it, BrokeNCYDE will make more money than most acoustic singer-songwriters. You know why?
Because people have some tastes that are different from others. Maybe it is shitty taste. Maybe BrokeNCYDE really deserves to go die in a hole. But fans will listen to them because taste cannot be stricken down as incorrect. You can’t fail a person’s musical preferences. If you try, nothing will come out of it. Trust me, I’ve tried.
You’ll have to sit back and let it steam for a while. Hopefully, like most musical movements, they go away. Maybe screamo-rap and jerking and all those other hated trends in music will fall off the pedestal of popularity and something greater will arise.
Don’t just go and say, “Mmhm, you like this music? Here’s a match. Burn yourself.” Chances are, you might find some similar music that you actually like. Say I find someone’s music playlist with 200GB of space. Say they have only 200 songs on there. But each song, even though there aren’t that many, has music that ranges from classical to rap to pop and jazz. I’ll prefer that person over any playlists that consists of absolutely no bands I have ever heard of. That doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy those bands, it just means that this person is consciously trying to separate themselves from the mainstream because they can’t get over the fact that sometimes music leaves us with things we may not enjoy. It’s high time this stopped.
Hypocrisy is how the internet runs today. You might find someone who says Lady Gaga is a transsexual whore, yet secretly he/she sings Poker Face in the shower. More often than not, people will get scared that they find out some music grows on them, or just starts off as catchy to their ears.
Don’t panic. Breathe a little. Rethink your options. If this music is good, and its not particularly a musical trend I like, what do I do?
The elitists will tell you, “Either never, ever go near this kind of music again, kill yourself so you never expose yourself to it, or download everything from this list of bands because I tell you to and because my musical tastes are right.”
And I’ll tell you the only thing I should be allowed to tell you.
If you like it, listen to it.
Originally I had planned to post this yesterday, but seeing as I had a plethora of random stories mixed with emergency, week-old news I thought worth blogging about, this post would have to wait for today.
It’s a shame, since this group should not be waiting to enter the ears of any willing participants. When I say genre-melding goodness, this is exactly what I mean. Electronic swing jazz. This group does it right, and mixes elements from genres that can actually co-exist with each other.
Step aside, screamo-rap, punk-pop, and industrial soul. Caravan Palace shows us how it’s done.
Not only is this video’s direction and creation a marvel in and of itself, the music works perfectly for a couple of reasons. One being that it’s swing jazz, and it naturally makes you want to get up and dance, albeit haphazardly and like a fool. Secondly, because this band is awesome. This kind of music is good for the soul, the step, and the sound we should be hearing over airwaves and in music players.
You can either succeed with a universal declaration of complete awesomeness or fail miserably into the depths of the critical cesspool of horrid banging-pots-with-cats noise when genre-melding. It’s not that fine a line. Clear distinction, and clear differentiation between the good and horrible genre-melders.
Caravan Palace belongs where, you ask?
Buy or download the friggin’ album so I don’t have to spoon-feed you opinions.
This is what music should be.
Harder, Better, Faster, and possibly more awesome?
Obligatory slowpoke, etc, etc.
So, with the much (not really) anticipated DJ Hero coming to gaming consoles soon…or maybe it’s already out—I don’t know, I don’t follow these things very closely.
But anyways, with DJ Hero coming out, or possibly already released, music sim fans are up in arms at whether this means the start of the mass-produced, music-oriented gaming revolution, or another ‘cheap knock-off’ of the Guitar Hero and Rock Band franchises.
What? The game’s developer is owned by Activision? Wait…oh. It’s a GH game expansion. That makes sense. Huh, don’t they feel dumb now.
MOVING ON:
HNNNGGGG—AH.
I don’t know what that sound is, but it describes the above picture as accurately as I can fathom. New press releases (like two weeks ago) and trusty Wikipedia have clarified that Daft Punk has crafted 11 songs for DJ Hero’s tracklist. Activision has also stated that the duo will be in-game playable characters.
Mmhm. You may squeal like a giddy fangirl now. This’ll help.
God, I want those jumpsuits. And QUEEN. WOW. I AM GOING TO EXPLODE.
Damn, I should really get on this news when it actually comes out.
Watch for DJ Hero in a gaming store near you! Now! Go!
