Loyola Deesh League: Draft Wrap

Team: Pale Fire
Manager: CJR

Who are you? How long have you played with these guys? How have you done?

I am a young professional and freelance intellectual from the Cradle of Liberty, Philadelphia. I am the most estimable baseball authority that I know of, and my scouting reports are generally considered nonpareil. Last year, Utley and Howard (Rounds 2 and 6) kept me in first for most of the season, but my pitchers shit themselves in the second half and I did not contend for the title.

I am known for my innovative progressive fantasy baseball platform; for example, a moral imperative in the team code of ethics specifically interdicts the signing of athletes from the Yankees and Braves, as well as any players who are Texas dickheads. My teams are always racially integrated; bilingual players are given preferential consideration in all drafting procedure. A proposed amendment to team ethics that would ban Colorado Rockies players on grounds of excessive Christianity was nearly adopted, but was determined to be in violation of the team charter and dropped before the draft.

We've had this league going for six years, and I have heroically battled through stints of Baltimore deesh fatigue and improved my ALUMP, or average lineup updates per monthly period, from 2.3 for 2000-2004 to 40.26 in last year's season. My status swelled to "serious contender" for the first time last year, following a legendary and coup-heavy draft, but even this was spoiled by Matt Holliday's decision to play the first few months of the season with his dick in his right hand at all times, resulting in his swift release, as it were.

I've known Matt Kraemer, Chris Lucas, Rob Selby, Rob Donlan, Tom Croskey, Kevin Ellis and Mike Zuidema since 2000, and I consider them nothing but an indistinguishable swampy pit of reptilian Reagan-dick-slurping protofascists whose spiteful, righteous capitalistic solipsism roars off their interactions with the world around them like hot and sulfurous gas. Each one can be considered a veritable embellished emblem of today's slipshod American college education system, commemorating its unconscionable failure to instill discernment in even its purported brightest talents.

I am something of a personal hero to each of these men, a beacon of idiosyncratic ideological brilliance and taste. In addition, the merest memory of my achievements on our various intramural teams can reduce any one of them to blushing, fist-pumping reminiscence, and they speak of me only in only the most respectful and deferential terms.

Who's your biggest competition this year?

Selby and Donlan, without a doubt... sike. Dead Coyotes are scary. He's got a lot of good players. Ramrod has good hitters but dogshit pitching, same with Doobs. Vasco's always in the hunt, and his team looks okay. Ellis had a good draft and is dangerous. I think top three is me, Croskey, Ellis.

What was your draft strategy?

I picked only players who I consider a lock to produce what I need from them in designated categories, barring injury (and I chose not to count on any players that I consider injury-prone). For hitters and pitchers both, a bad supporting cast made some players all but undraftable in my book. I want to thank Buster Olney for his amazing work this past year, too; now, better than ever, I know who sucks and who doesn't. My only real blind wager, Matsuzaka, broke the heart of everyone in the room. But mainly I just wanted to make sure I represented as many cultures as possible on my team, and drafted accordingly.

Best pick?

10-Verlander/11-Frank Thomas/12-Lugo. I can't decide.

Worst pick?

Hard to say, but I was quite close to having Hamels instead of Myers, so I think jumping on Wells may have cost me slightly, even though he is going to hit.

Any holes you need to fill? Do you prefer to trade to improve your team? Work the waiver wire? Pray?

I need to get an outfielder, and I have excess quality pitching to trade. Brad Hawpe should be rotting on my bench like 2004 David Wright, while some poor schmuck is platooning Corey Koskie and Pedro Feliz. Pray not, for there is no God, and your prayers will not prevent your going under.

Any secrets to your success?

My main advantage over this big box of dim bulbs is my exemplary intrinsic brilliance, which shines through to light my efforts in most everything that I attempt, and such limited and agymnastic individuals as Matt Kraemer cannot even comprehend in theory the astonishing breadth of the spectrum that I perceive. Also, this year I went so far as to ignore one of my team's traditional ethical roster restrictions and draft a motherfucking Marlin with my second pick, just so Vasco wouldn't casually walk off with the SB like some linen-clad Euro cutpurse. That is how serious I am about winning. Also, I have Ryan Howard, the best player you've ever seen.

Die Album Die or Long Live Singles and B-Side Comps

Ed. Note: I was on my last leg. I couldn't take the purity of the indie rock coming from SXSW any longer. Even in the nut house, I kept hearing it. Then, one more head butt against my cell walls away from killing myself, I heard what sounded like LCD SS "Sound Of Silver." The song was getting louder and I immediately started to pull myself together. Next thing I knew a wrecking ball crashed through my cell, and almost instantly, another crane snatched me away. Assman and Crazy Carl, thank you guys. Also, big ups to cranes and disco music.-- JS

It has become hot for artists to include only a few new songs in their "albums". Hey, I call it like I hear it, they're releasing comps.





Be honest with yourself and your audience, fellas. And ponder this: shouldn't you allow the old material to stand as it was originally released, on its own. Give us new music or at least follow the lead of artists from the good old days of 2006: record new versions of the singles for the album.

Ditchfork (Part 1)

Ed. Note -- Jake is still in the insane asylum in Austin. We're currently forming a rescue operation though. Hopefully, we won't be too late. This piece was something he'd been working on for a while. We thought he'd want us to go ahead and run it. -- CJR

I remember the days when Pitchfork would cover new trends. Now it seems they just defend the old ones. They turned me on to artistis such as Deerhoof, The Rapture, Black Dice, and Madlib. Some of this website's staff had realized that young people might and should want to listen to something other than indie rock. But it seems that a new faction has seized the power at Pitchfork. Now that indie has become the new yuppified mainstream, and the powers that are have realized that they have a product from which they can make millions, Pitchfork clearly has set up shop in the sadsack world of mostly shitty indie and has begun persuading its audience to do the same. Forward thinking has been sacrificed for the availability of the dollar.

Now let me just say that I think Pitchfork still does some good. Look no further than Tuesday's LCD review. You'll find the best review of the year so far. And while sometimes days behind a story, and while clearly subversive in tone, in the sense that they're pushing asshole language and opinions as the only cool, the News section is so comprehensive that one must use it. For the most part, my problem is with the new section, Forkcast.

I know that you might think that I'm biased, because for a very brief time early last year, I reviewed a few dance tracks for Pitchfork, but I say this honestly, that before, during, and for a brief time after I wrote for the website, as a regular reader, the old Track Reviews (RIP) section, which Forkcast has replaced, was undoubtedly the highlight of the website for me. I could get an idea, quickly, about diversity in music. The format also allowed for some of the site's more colorful reviews, and yes, I mean the ones that would shit all over their songs. That doesn't happen much anymore in the almost all-positive Forkcast section. What about the material? The new Pitchfork has overlooked so many recent, non-indie tracks. What about Depeche Mode - The Sinner In Me (Villalobos Conclave Remix)? Shit, they have the biggest Ricardo freak on the planet, Phil Sherburne, writing for them, and they didn't have him review Villalobos' best remix? Or take Stephen Marley's "The Traffic Jam." How are the non-MTV Jams-watching indie kids going to find out about this gem? Also, the hip-hop coverage, that allowed the site's best writers to deal with what they know best, has all but vanished. So many Lil Wayne tracks. Why can't I get some Dombal/Fennessey/Breihan/Macia on "Army Gunz"?  Two of these writers jumped ship because Pitchfork was, in their minds, never going to be a friendly place for writing about hip-hop. Believe me I could go on for hours listing tracks. Instead, I get banal indie. 75% of the section is devoted to some form of indie rock, most of which is shit, but, hey, it's all available for download! The half-assed music garnering shameful praise is breeding half-assed reviews. Take this Mary Onettes one from a corporate News guy:

Too many revival acts get the spirit but lose the feeling, and even more fall short the other way around (What?). So raise a glass to Sweden's regrettably named Mary Onettes, who manage to pull all the right strings (har har) (fart noise) on "Lost". It's a soaring throwback epic ready-made for the wallflower protagonist of a film, from an era where (when) pop stars wore frills, mascara, and bleached hair.

The Onettes' first single for indie pop powerhouse Labrador sounds familiar right away and will have you mining your mixtapes and grey matter for the precise 80s act these four are mimicking so lovingly. For starters, those opening notes nail "Age of Consent" (which they don't) hook, line, and sinker (then why would you have to mine your mixtapes?); feel free to fill in the blanks from there.

While it sounds lost in translation at first, titular refrain line "When lost is all you have" reveals these Swedes to have a more nuanced understanding of their second language than one might think (How so?  I dare someone to convince me that 'And I know you feel / the weight that's ***on*** your back / can get you through / when lost is all you have" really means something.). Vocalist Philip Ekström saves the high notes for "If I could dream a way," as concisely wistful (indeed) a pop sentiment as any.

"Lost" doesn't have the vicissitudes that distinguish spiritual forbearers like "If You Leave", "Bizarre Love Triangle", and "Take on Me", but it nonetheless stands tall among these and other romantic pop milestones. Your innovation-craving mind may be skeptical, but your nostalgic (a song's being nostaglic alone is not enough for such high marks) heart will grow fonder with every note.

Of the remaining 25% of the section, Pitchfork gives a good portion of the ink to new, but facile and low-b Girl Talk/Diplo type remixes. Read this (and be sure to check the link, it's to the Pfork review) critique triggered by another Forkcast entry. To take it one step further, I have to think that a lot of the blame for the increase of these shitty remixes belongs to PF for bestowing them with good reviews. It's mutually advantageous: the artists get their 5 minutes, and the site not only gets to appear to keep in touch with The New, but also to lavish it on their audience.

This may seem trivial, but I honestly know Pitchfork has huge influence. I actually learned the number of daily hits sometime in 2004 and was stunned. I can't imagine how many times that number has multiplied by now. And the thought deeply saddens me, that if I'm still alive 30 or so years from now, my kid may only get to listen to new "I'm From Barcelona" records and tell me how they've changed his life, entirely due to the agenda pushed by one of, if not the, main authority on alt music of our generation.

This Is My SXSW Post

The Diarrhea Faces

I've institutionalized myself in the musical utopia of Austin, Texas.



The bands were so good, I knew I needed to be restrained. I don't know when or if I'm getting out, Philly. Things are so awesome here that the doctors only grant one opportunity to blog about it. So, I am insanely pleased to give to you perhaps my final blog post:

T.P.O.'s Top 50 Discoveries from this year's SXSW (So Far)

1. The Prep
2. The Gay (Best New Band '06? Can't wait to hear their debut, Smarties: Yum, Yum, Yum!)
3. John Vanderslice
4. The Wtfs
5. The Erections
6. The Asps
7. Tortoise
8. The Chicagos
9. The Deesh
10. Girl Talk
11. The Sad Sacks
12. The Sadnesses
13. The We Are Sads
14. The Blues
15. The Quaint
16. The Coquettes
17. The Old People
18. The Esoterics
19. The Mary Onettes
20. Beirut
21. The Blenders
22. The Pineapple-Coconut Smoothies
23. The Skateboarders
24. The I Feel Sads
25. The Cougars
26. The Sad Mohawks
27. The Sads
28. The Dads
29. The Chores
30. The S.E.C.s (Sausage, Egg and Cheeses)
31. The Farts (noise music)
32. The Words
33. Block Party
34. The
35. The Bravery
36. The We Shit Ourselves and Now We're Sads
37. The Chia Pets
38. The Lovely Sunsets
39. The Poetic Backdrops
40. The Conifers
41. The Spruces
42. The Beeches (In case you couldn't already tell, the tree is 2007's wolf)
43. The Larks
44. The Polar Bears (Ok, I know these guys should be Top 10, but they were just a little off when I heard them)
45. The Coys
46. The Fawn
47. The English Bulldogs
48. The Vanna Whites
49. The Tears
50. The Rivers of Sadnesses

Mims the Word

My computer is an iBook G4. My homepage for Safari is apple.com/start. For the last two weeks, each time I open the browser, I have to see that Mims' "This Is Why I'm Hot" is topping iTunes downloads.

You can read this, and I could tell you that I gave Young Jeezy's "Go Getta" 3 stars for my iTunes rating, to understand that I have clearly become one of Hipsterism's best apologists for main-stream hip-hop. But there's no way I can pardon Mims' climb to the top. Songs like "This Is Why I'm Hot" are the reason that pretentious stalwarts of bush league indie rock still think they have a point.

First off, the song contains the most egregious use of guap to date. Then there's the whole "I'm hot cause I'm fly, you ain't cause you not" business, or in other words, "You're not hot, I'm not you, here are 500 ways I differ from you, thus I am hot." Well apparently Mims must not know bout us! T.P.O.'s official hotornot.com rating is 9.4. Clearly, there's no way that Mims would do any better than 9.2.

But on a serious note: the rhyme pattern blows, the diction is stale, and according to Mims he is hot for the same exact reasons that every rapper in the history of rap has been hot. Not hot.

And really, if Mims were hot, wouldn't he be doing a little better on Google Image searches?

Youtube Essay: Serious/Serious?/Not Serious

The following Youtube Essay contains some serious content. Not all videos are ideal for at-work viewing.

SERIOUS











SERIOUS?











NOT SERIOUS











BONUS CRO COP HIGHLIGHTS

Breaking News: New M.I.A. Record Leaks!

Rad SS gigposter by Strawberryluna

"Exclusive: "T.N.M.I.A.R.I.G.2S.", from M.I.A.'s new record, Bento

Scissor Sisters
The Electric Factory
03/02/07

The year was 2004. The date, September 8th. That evening, Scissor Sisters played a way-sold-out show at The Khyber in Philly (incidentally, it was also the first night of the fun, but short-lived, "Cobras & Matadors" Wednesdays!). They exploded people's minds with their refreshing mix of totally-danceable neo-disco-meets-fag-hag-theatre-rock and over-the-top stage antics. "Take Your Mama" was a minor hit at the time, so it was no surprise that the show was utterly freaking packed. During the time that Scissor Sisters graduated from Pretzel-lovin' crowds of 250 to 2,500, their ability to translate their songs into body movin' live anthems has impressively improved. At their recent Electric Factory show, first-album hits like "Tits On The Radio" and "Filthy/Gorgeous" were effectively enhanced with bouncier synth basses and steady 4/4 drum beats. Meanwhile, newer SS tracks "I Don't Feel Like Dancin'" and "Lights" and "Kiss You Off" (à la Stuart Price) naturally translated quite well to the we-do-feel-like-dancin' crowds of flamboyant men, large women, and run-of-the-mill hipsters that SS (understandably) attract. I'm not usually one to judge or psychoanalyze, but I have a message for that dude who looked so miserable during the show, standing with his hands in his pockets, looking disgusted, accompanying his girlfriend (who was having a great time in spite of his BS): You're obviously a serious homophobe and you need to consider dealing with your issues. (You also probably wouldn't know a good album from a video game soundtrack and are sadly incapable of loving another human being.) And yo... Don't forget to change your socks & clocks!

TPO's Beautiful Philly Roadshow presents The Manayunk Project

The #1 most common complaint about Philadelphia: low fucking culture. No offense to those who do their best to keep us out of the toilet tank. For example, Philadelphia is way less grim than Baltimore. However, Philadelphia is inferior to New York, because there are too many dickheads fucking everything up. Now, how can there be progress without protest?

The municipal zoo for douchey behavior in Philadelphia is Manayunk. There are some joints there where the rock music that people listen to in Iowa and Montana and Iraq plays all night long, and other places where the DJ has just mixed In the Club into a Bow Wow song for the 82nd Friday night in a row. Every live band plays a Sublime cover. Sometime later tonight, the shittiest college kid this side of the Mason-Dixon line will finger a Northeast girl who will drive 45 minutes home while blackout drunk and then smoke weed with her 33-year-old dad. Everybody loves McNabb in every single bar in Manayunk.

One night in the near future, representatives of The Publications Office will be coordinating Project Manayunk. Participants will dress, and prepare to act, like they are going to Medusa Lounge or Fluid, but instead they will convene in Manayunk. T.P.O. wants to take, let's say, everybody who knows Dave P, and try to get something going on the dance floors at Kildare's.

T.P.O. will capture video from several perspectives and edit it into a coherent feature. Designated security will accompany the project, and female participants will be shielded at all times from Manayunk date rapists. Desirable prizes will be awarded in the following categories:

-Best photo of a Manayunk dude who has got his ass up
-Best photo of a dumb slutty bitch
-Best 1 minute of footage
-Best homophobic reaction induced
and/or
-Best dancing

More info to come; in the meantime, please refrain from washing your hoodies.

New Look, But The Same People Can't Stop Staring

How I feel about TPO's new layout, as expressed in terms of Rowdy New York Bitch myspace emblems:







And, I ain't bragging, I'm just the fucking best, you know it, and when you talk about me you show it. This layout and me are two raw ass bitches with a hearts of gold, and we will straight up end you if you fuck with me or say shit behind my back. Me and my chicks are hard as bricks, we drink till we fall down but we puke till we rally! You already know... tHAt's whY MY NamE iS On YOUR LIPS... AND WE'VE NEVER EVEN MET... SO YOU DON't KNOW mE!


----------------------------------------------------

I'd also like to thank our sponsor for the new format, Big Spendas Lifestyle Entertainment, throwing the hottest parties all over the greater New York area, featuring the hottest girls from Westchester to HOBOKEN serving up $6 test tube shots of Jager, featuring DJ Aaron Ruiz spinning the hottest new Billy Joel-Tiesto mashups on Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday. This is why we're hot!

Help support TPO, buy an official Big Speezy bumper sticker!



Also, we are proud to offer for sale our first TPO Lifestyle Series T-Shirt, in partnership with American Apparel:

FRONT:



BACK:

Coldplay's Chris Martin Writes Quote The Perfect Song Unquote? I Write The Perfect Blog Post, No Quotes, No Question Mark

Read this.

According to the journalist, Martin "called" the song "quintessential." Though nowhere in the shown quote does he use the word quintessence, there is an ellipsis, and it seems like that would be the perfect place to drop the word or its concept. So grant it that Martin did call the song "quintessential."

quin·tes·sence [kwin-tes-uhns] –noun
1.
the pure and concentrated essence of a substance.
2.
the most perfect embodiment of something.

dictionary.com

Did you get a good look at the picture? I don't think this guy is fucking around. I think Martin may have actually made THE PERFECT SONG.

I don't even know where to begin, this would be so fucking awesome. "The Song" would be all that I'd ever have to listen to, all that I'd ever want to listen to. I wouldn't have to feel guilty about file sharing because it would stop. No longer feeling guilty about free music, I wouldn't have to buy hundreds of records a year (hey those singles from Juno add up) as penance. I would save so much money that I could finally invest in some biotechs and junk bonds and really boost the economy. So much of my time would be freed up. I wouldn't have to waste hours out of my day searching for Radio Slave and Ricardo Villalobos remixes. I would begin to write an Extras script. I would do community service. I would become a DJ-- "The Song" would surely be able to accomodate every dancefloor need. Great cultural divides would be bridged: Hip-hop hand-in-hand with twee, house with classical, jazz with blues, indie rock with indie pop with shoegaze, disco with space disco, Phish with Dave Matthews. All of your iPod hard drive space could be used for movies, and best of all, the iPod Shuffle would be so fucking small!

I wonder about the length of the song. If I had a guess, I'd say 4:55.

Are You Havin A Laugh? I Am

Another Friday with T.P.O.

Got a really strong response for the last one, so here's another perfectly planned Friday for you, our readers, as only we can bring it to you.

Start off by taking care of business:



Next, hit the links:



Get a date:



Finish the night by impressing your date with some new moves:

Dear James...

Who is that handsome man in the portrait above the mantle?

So these are the latest upcoming LCD Soundsystem tour dates. As the story often sadly goes, the itinerary has been released without a Philly date! But as the story ultimately goes, we're quite sure one will be added later (we Philadelphians here at T.P.O. can read the holes in touring itineraries like Neo can read 1s & 0s).

But, James, just so you know, dude, we want our Philly date as soon as possible! However, James, please feel free to take our suggestions at this time, since we are in the fortunate position of suggesting the exact details of what we want from your TBA Philly date. Check it:

1. Location: Powell House ballroom***
(where George & Martha Washington celebrated their 20th anniversary!)
2. Capacity: 75-100
3. Openers: Dave P. & co., Simian Mobile Disco, 2 Many DJs
4. Post-set DJs: Daft Punk dressed as Ben Franklins
5. Theme: "A Rave-o-lutionary Dance War" (ie, A Colonial Rave: fake muskets, real glow sticks)
6. Catering: Pretzels, but no cheesesteaks (let's keep it classy)
7. Date: We'll let James pick the date.

So you got all that, James? Can't wait!

***Dancing ban temporarily lifted for this event only!

T.P.O. Records To VH1's Ego Trip's The White Rapper Show's John Brown: We'll Put Your Record Out

John Brown on that dime shit!

This Just In: White Rapper John Brown Robbed of VH1 Show's Top Prize

Needless to say that most of this show was unfunny, over-scripted, and banal, but it did have some bright spots. Most of these moments were authored by a wide-eyed youth calling himself John Brown. I'll face facts: right now I could give two shits about rappers that get their philosophical/social-consciousness asses up, which were half of the show's contestants. The rest were either haters (Persia) or bitches (Sullee). On the other hand, Brown crafted a unique and original persona, "The King of the Burbs", accompanied by his "Hallelujah Hollaback" catch phrase, which gave his songs freshness. On the song that he performed for the finale, ingeniously titled "Car Wars", Brown raps about a necessity for rich suburban kids to have the dopest rides. Initially, it seems a light topic, but the wordplay captivates the listeners, and reveals the song as having underlying meaning, informing us that black rappers/hustlers aren't the only people that want to stunt, that the priviliged white suburban youth also feels compelled to do it. Brown lost to Shamrock, whose song was about hating on people that hated on him. Eghck! Ultimately, Shamrock won because throughout the show he displayed the greatest work ethic and also the most obsequiousness to host MC Serch and the guest judges. Republican bullshit! JB, you deserved to win.

And In Other News: VH1 Show Reveals Hip-Hop Producer/Mixtape Mogul Clinton Sparks Is White

With that name, who would have thought to Google Image it? Unless, of course, you knew about this mixtape.

Attack of the Paranoidpornsword Killer (Part III)

Yeah. It was sort of an atypical day. Anyway. The time was just after 5pm. I had just gotten home from a long day of eating pretzels and looking at the Liberty Bell in contemplation (as I often do on Wednesdays). I took off my soggy shoes as soon as I walked in the house. The snow was melting quickly now that the sun had returned from its extended weekend. Suddenly, I remembered that I had a DVD I'd been meaning to watch. "Aw, Dennis," I said to myself. The due date was fast approaching so there was no better time to watch it. Changed my attire, grabbed a blanket, and basked I did! Boy, was I relaxing! And the movie wasn't half bad to be honest! ...Until my neighbor... well... just check this out. Anyway.


*Note: names and locations have been changed to protect the identities of those involved.

Hey, Apples In Stereo, Shame On You

The Fonz successfully jumping over the Apples In Stereo @ The North Star:



Me, not so much:



The Apples In Stereo
The North Star
2/16/07- 2/17/07

John Vanderslice's live show sucks because he takes way too long to set up, demurely talks to the crowd way too much, and doesn't do anything.



The Applies In Stereo put on a worse live show than John Vanderslice. The Apples In Stereo put on the worst live show I've ever gone to.

They also did a terrible job of pulling a "The North Star": devising an imaginary obstacle that the headlining band needs to overcome before they can start their set, thereby holding the audience hostage at the North Star for an entire Friday night and forcing them to drink overpriced beer. Apples' excuse, the lead singer all the sudden got a sore throat, but assuredly after a few cups of hot tea with lemon, which took an hour and a half to drink, he was just fine, and they pressed on, and as they promised during the wait, they "rocked us out." If, by "rocking us out", they meant doing this



to us, then they succeded.

Pulp Diction

That easy, huh...


I think it pretty safe to say that a majority of people under 40 would admit to at least liking Pulp Fiction. The movie epitomizes our generation's notion of cool. The characters talk fast and dirty and sharp, and they all live extraordinary lives, killing, doping, dancing-- no nine-to-fivers. When we watch this movie, we satisfy a repressed curiosity and yearning for the distasteful. Decorum (and i think rightly so) demands nearly all of our time, but eventually you feel the urge to tell decorum to go fuck itself, and that is when you pop Pulp Fiction in your DVD player. Well, I think that listening to certain coke-hop can also satiate that appetite.

Take this mixtape by Juelz Santana and Lil Wayne, Blow: The I Can't Feel My Face Prequel. I got my hands on it about a week ago, and since then it has completely seized me. It's not what Elz and Weezy are saying, it's how they're saying it. This is poetry at its finest, new and elegant. It's just like listening to Tarantino's Vincent and Jules for the first time. I could quote the record ad infinitum to hammer the point, but a few examples from Santana should do the trick:

"I cook good, make it look good, damn straight. / Put coke in the pot, take out pancakes. / Double stacks, triple stacks, why not? / I got that syrup too, jus call me IHOP."

"... fiends go to work, after the work you sell 'em. / They know they got to buy more, they head hurt, they eyes sore. / You sellin' that cheap rock, sheetrock, drywall /... I be chef, the chef / you never have to rechef what I chef. Comprende?"

"Now let me introduce the world to my girl. / She white, she bright, she shine like a pearl. / And I ain't talkin' 'bout Lindsey Lohan / I'm talkin' 'bout that sniff, that blow man."

I know that this kind of Rap can be misunderstood, and that it should in no way fall upon the youth. But it would be a great mistake to eradicate such creativeness and polish of language. It does serve a purpose. It does create a fanciful world for adults, just like the world of Tarantino's Pulp Fiction, in which we can safely transgress the restraints of ordered society and briefly don the costume of a bad ass. I think that listening to Blow or watching Pulp Fiction can be healthy activities if we use them to cathartically purge our frustrations and fulfill our fantasies, not establish them.

Freestyle Blogging

I guess it's possible

Exclusive: Adam Sparkles - T.P.O. Mix

First, many thanks to Adam Sparkles, one of the city's best djs, for a stellar mix. We know it'll liven up your weekend as much as it did our week. Check out the track list here.

I didn't get into some of the previous year's best music until it was too late, but here are some things that should have been included in my best of '06:

Birdman & Lil' Wayne - Stuntin' Like My Daddy
Bell X1 - Flame (Chicken Lips Rmx)
Depeche Mode - Sinner In Me (Ricardo Villalobos Rmx)
Ricardo Villalobos - Fizheuer Ziheuer
My My - Got It
2020 Soundsystem (Feat. The Glass) - No Order (2020 Soundsystem Rmx)
Goldfrapp - Fly Me Away (C2 Rmx 4)
X-Press 2 (Feat. Rob Harvey) - Kill 100 (Carl Craig Rmx)
Sunset Rubdown - Sunset Rubdown EP
Wolf Eyes - Human Animal

After finally caving in and subscribing to Bloglines, I've reentered the world thanks to Yahoo! News. Apparently some pretty terrible shit has been happening, especially this. I am anxious about the precedent this would set-- only a matter of time before it hits Philly. Do they really expect me to be walking along, a minute or so into "Get Innocuous", right before the drums kick in, and pause that just to cross the street? How about all cars yielding to pedestrians in crosswalks no matter what, or Back to the Future cars?

Speaking about iPods, I wonder when the touch-screen iPod will debut. I hope it's soon. I've been advising everyone I know that buying an iPod now would be just about the dumbest thing you could do. After watching the Macworld keynote and seeing the iPod capabilities of iPhone-- well that's just it, the touch-screen iPod already exists. I know that the phone isn't slated to hit until June or July, and that mass production takes a long time, but Apple has always been so on point with the iPod, that I can't imagine them hoarding this technology for that long. And it's so next level, the ability to "touch your music." I'd imagine a camera being thrown in the mix as well, maybe digital voice recording capabilities and the email suite too, everything today's youth could ever need in a 2x3x.2 inch box. I know I'd regret not waiting the extra however long for such a radically better product.

Everybody's probably sick of my recent obsession with the HBO series Extras. Its over-the-top way of dealing with touchy subjects makes you cringe instead of laugh sometimes, but it seems to be confronting important social issues every bit as head-on as let's say Mind of Mencia, and in actually funny and much more realistic ways. I mean that last episode detailed a no homo gone wrong. What could be more relevant than that?

Packing on New York Moving Eve

I feel grossly unconfident. I pretty much failed at New York: Round 1. September 1, 2006 I moved on a whim, maybe wanting to be a bigshot Japanese-corporate power suit. (Pennsylvania State University Main Campus' ubiquitous Business School assholes probably had an influence there) It also must be said that New York was home to a crushed-upon boy but- er, well, in reality I truly forget my rationale back then. However, tonight I am back in Fihdehfiya and in the process of packing for the second attempt. To move up for good this time and be an actress and- Why did I leave? T.P.O's inquiring readers might ask. The bottom line is Lyme disease (undiagnosed in the very etymological sense of the word) masquerading as as infestation of bed bugs no es bueno para el cuerpo. End scene.

Anyway, tonight I was sorting through all my goddamned SHIT when I had a black hole, What am I doing moment. True, I'd been dreading this, battling against it by sleeping at either of my brothers' houses for days on end as to be away from my room. My room crammed with all my SHIT, some of which must be sorted for New York- bound rolling suitcases. Last night, at said brother's, I was enlisted to clean his room and do his laundry- for a fair price. I was caffeinated, so the request was agreeable. Now, brother is not one for organisation of his room. So much so that a fairly prim friend of mine, after visiting the space noted and commented days later. Yeah, guy floor was home to many, many CVS receipts and pennies and coffee cups. However, my brother was perfectly okay with with me "messing with" everything in his space. Everything! This made me spazz. My brother's room was a perfectly utilitarian space for him and not a den of old superfluous emotionally-tied crap. This I blame for my frenzy now. I cannot get it together and pack. Just what things do I need to hack it in Gotham City so I can have a room free of bullshit?!

I know this is no novel dilemma- I've even heard that ancient people believed it necessary to raze and burn their town every couple of years- to keep life simple. Just yesterday some magazine was staring me in the face with its "Ponder the type of life you want to have in your new home. Ask yourself which of your belongings will help you create that life and which will not." Well, I don't flipping know!! My tentative plan is a huge suitcase of hygeine acoutremonts and non-splashy clothing and my guitar, easily stowable in the belly of the illustrious Fung Wah. But not a stick of furniture, Biss? Not a bed? How will you find comfort in your new room? Will crash with friends while feung shui-ing my room. Will get any and all furniture from local garage sales. Maybe I'll even paint my room- who knows? Tomorrow is the deadline, resistant as I am to separate myself SO MUCH STUFF!!

Okay, okay I did say feung shui back there. I've been in people's houses who have studied this; I usually depart envious. (And full of Community Sustainable Game Meat) Yesterday I told my brother feung shui is supposed to bring prosperity- and that I planned to be a slave it in my new environ. Brother doesn't believe in 'prosperity', he says. Frankly, he had a point. And I was back-a to square one. My brother had nothing to hide in his room- and wouldn't it be nice to live somewhere like that?

Ahem.

An Inability to Plan for a Content. New York. Lifestyle: Redux

and

Shame for Failing the First Time and for Having Too Many Belongings

are the same damned thing. This bites.

The Sinner In Me

I was a philosophy major, so I ask you to indulge me...

Why did Tony Dungy win the Super Bowl? According to him, it was because of his faith. I think that's ridiculous. If it were up to his faith there would be no winner, because there would be no competition, every one would deeply feel an unconditional urge to help their neighbor-- there are no winners and losers in Christianity, just winners. Dungy did partake in the competition, his team left full of pride and accomplishment, Luvie Smith's full of disappointment and loss, therefore Tony has a desire to conquer, but no faith. And the reason, ultimately, why his team won the Super Bowl was not master strategy. Listen, football is a set science with set actions and reactions, and assuming that both sides have equally complete knowledge of the science, over the course of the game, the measures and countermeasures should cancel out. No, Dungy won because his bloodthirsty pack of savages were a little more thirsty and a whole lot more savage than the other guy's. So Tony Dungy is America's role model, the faithful sheep, the good Christian, a GOOD person. But it looks to me like he's nothing more than a hypocrite and an idiot. Though Dungy is stupid, it would appear he's still a good person. I disagree-- a stupid person can in no way be a good person.

America, if you're reading (and judging from my hit counter you are), we need to chastise stupidity. It goes against our nature. Aristotle, Metaphysics, line 1: "All men, by nature, desire to know." How proud Aristotle would be at our progress, that in 2,000 years, the world's dominant nation has completely suppressed that urge! Stupid people, sheep, are inhuman. They are irrational and overly emotional. They can not understand the causes of things, they have no ability to formulate solutions. They are impetuous, they often start wars for no good reason. They don't see the larger picture, they are too egotistical, even those like Dungy, a guy that is probably so solipsistically wrapped up in his own faith, he doesn't make time for hearing other prospectives, specifically atheistic ones. (Which, by the way, I'm not championing.) Irrationality breeds greed and the desire to crush. It does not make the world a better place.

Is it just me, or is this really depressing? I guess that we could content ourselves with the fact that improvements have been occurring throughout history. We are no longer neanderthals, we cooked meat, we built cities, crushed fascism. But I think we have regressed somewhat, that present-day America has eradicated some earlier progress. It's as though Karl Marx had never penned "religion is the opiate of the masses." It as though Latin has been entirely forgotten, that the Latin word religio meant bind back, enslave. In a country with so many great technological advantages, specifically, the availability of computers and the educational abilities of the internet, why has this happened? I can think of only two reasons. First, the majority of the human race doesn't have the intellectual capacity to realize what's going on, at which point you need to ask why our punditry, why our political leaders, the intellectually fit, are not taking counter measures. Second, the majority doesn't want to use their intellectual capacity, they are fine with being sheep, fine with being animals, don't care about being human, and that the intellectually fit, succumbing to their own irrational greed, are fine with them remaining that way. Alas, there is nobody to drag us from the cave. We are forever doomed to darkness. Jesus Christ it's time for another French Revolution!

But hey, I am just a Communist and an atheistic asshole. The sheep and Tony Dungy have the right idea. Eventually, they'll be slaughtered and then they'll be in heaven.

This Is My LCD Soundsystem Post

Wait until they hear "Get Innocuous"


Probably my favorite band, um, recording moniker. You really do have to remind yourself that James Murphy crafts 99.993% of LCD's material. Listen to yourself say it: "James Murphy is LCD Soundsystem." It is how he expresses himself. The depth with which he expresses himself on his new record due out in March, Sound of Silver, devastates me.

So far, LCD Soundsystem has been about levity and play. Its most lauded song, "Losing My Edge", is about not taking oneself seriously. "Beat Connection", "Too Much Love", and "Never As Tired As When I'm Waking Up" are about The Game. There was the extremely unsubtle swipe at every artist that released a song in 2003, "Yeah." In 2005 Daft Punk played his house and fat guys were singing left and right. Now believe me, I know that "On Repeat" and "Disco Infiltrator" are about The System. But though the lyrics can at times be most relevant and weighty, the frivolity of the music and the "geek out" reactions that occur to it make LCD's catalogue prior to S.o.S., make James Murphy prior to sometime after the self-titled release, seem immature.

LCD Soundsystem had a pretty big impact on the indie dance music scene. It opened the flood gates, and now more than ever, truly immature music is overwhelming the market, e.g. The Klaxons, Kitsune. It is only fitting that LCD, (let's just say) the band, that arguably spawned this epidemic, cure it. Well, Sound of Silver is a very mature record. The "silver" is polish. Before you even listen to the record, Murphy is conveying through the title that what you're about to hear is not cheap and quick, but painstaking and rich.

Murphy has always proclaimed a deep love for disco, the genre of silver, and on Silver he immediately honors it with a new standard, opener "Get Innocuous." No dance punk here, thus, we are healed. "Time to Get Away" bluntly advises knowing when to call it quits, when to stop feeling guilty and when to move on, and the music falls in line as well, no house synths, no arpeggios, just simple Rock. "Daft Punk Is Playing At My House" is a poor man's "North American Scum," a song which wisely realizes that most people in Europe are snobby assholes, and that N. Americans that don't embrace their own culture are even bigger assholes (e.g. me, but I really am trying to change now-- I just downloaded all the records by The Doors. Strange Days is great). "Us V. Them" places rock before disco, flipping the "Beat Connection/On Repeat" formula, and reiterates the Caddyshack "slobs" (us) v. snobs" (them) theme. "Watch the Tapes" informs Upper-Middle class America that it sucks. "New York I Love You, But..." hypothesizes that New York reached its capacity in culture, in business, in population some time ago, maybe 5 or 10 years, and that any further development will actually suffocate the city to such a degree that, well, you better have an awesome girlfriend before you move there. ("Mother told you true... maybe there'll always be someone there for you and you'll never be alone... but maybe she's wrong, maybe I'm right... and so here's this song.") But I haven't even talked about the good songs yet.

The title track really breaks new ground in terms of LCD. Just when you think you're going to get a disco banger, when that beat and that bass get you going, the piano sounds, the drip efx kick in, and the cerebral smacks you in the face. You're paralyzed. Even when the bass returns, you don't move, you just stand there, jaws agape, "Ahing" along with Murphy at his ethereal creation.

"All My Friends"-- I know what every critic is going to say about this one: "Here, Murphy masterfully apes New Order"-- should not be so quickly classified. It is much more than a New Order pastiche. First, the piano is so sincere and almost overly symbolic: you touch it, converse with it, no third party (power) necessary, just you and an old friend. Second, the song's message. The song warns against forgetting your friends and the importance of shared human experience, warns against becoming an introvert and a workaholic. This is a song that each male prep school in the country's graduating class should play at its senior prom. Trust me.

Lastly, there's "Someone Great", James Murphy's song about loss. Whether he's talking about a parent or his first love or his best friend, shit maybe even his dog, it doesn't matter, the phrasing is that beautiful:

"To tell the truth I saw it coming / the way you were breathing. But nothing can prepare you for it / the voice on the other end... the coffee isn't even bitter / because what's the difference... and then it keeps coming / til the day it stops... there shouldn't be this reign of silence / but what are the options / when someone great has gone?"

James, clearly you decided to grow up. Thanks, bro. Before Sound of Silver you gave me music I could enjoy, now I have something to cherish.