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July 31, 2006
Mudge's Favorite 134 Songs of the 80s: The 80s of the 80s
Okay... I know I'm going to take grief for a lot of the ones in this fivesome. But here they are, songs 85-81 on my list -- the 80s of the 80s, if you will.
85. Patience, Guns N Roses GnR make their second appearance of many on this list, with the song that proved that they could do sensitive and acoustic just as well as they could rock out. How many of you out there ended up steaming up some car windows or making your roommate leave the dorm room for a while because of this song? I thought so. This is one of the 80s' best ballads -- and musically, it's as impressive as anything GnR ever did. Check the video here.
84. Games Without Frontiers, Peter Gabriel Okay, so it took me until basically when I started researching this list to figure out that what Gabriel says behind the bridge between verses is "Jeux sans frontieres" (French for "games without frontiers") and not "She's so funky, yeah" -- which, in hindsight makes absolutely no sense in this song whatsoever. Put this one on my own personal "most embarrassingly misheard lyrics" list. But the song, one of Gabriel's pre-So best from the turn of the decade, goes on the list no matter how badly I mis-sung the lyrics all these years. Check the video here.
83. Every Rose Has Its Thorn, Poison Okay, you'll give me hell for this one, given that it is the quintessential hair ballad. But for all of you who are about to bust me... look us all in the eye and try to pretend with a straight face that you didn't once think this song poetry; that you weren't right there with your lighter thrust into the air, or slow dancing at the junior high school dance, or weeping into the night over whichever him or her this song reminded you of. Just try to tell us that you weren't right there. Uh huh. That's what I thought. So spray the AquaNet, tighten your bandana, cinch up those acid wash jeans, thrust your lighters in the air, and sing it with me... and check the video here.
82. I Know What Boys Like, The Waitresses What sad foreshadowing... Patty Donahue, the lead singer of the Waitresses, opens this video with a drag of the cigarettes that eventually killed her in 1996 (she died at only 40 of lung cancer, brought on by years of heavy smoking). There's a lesson in there, kiddies. Anyway, I always loved the way Patty sneered and taunted her way through this song... so self-satisfied, so teasing, so amused... she captured the spirit of the song perfectly. The line after the third and last bridge, when she sneers, "sucker!" and giggles evil-ly... perfect for the song. Nice job, Patty... shame you had to leave so soon. Check the video here.
81. They Don't Know, Tracey Ullman The purest pop song anywhere on my list. There's no escaping it -- it's pure sugar bubblegum. And I still like it. Comedienne Tracey Ullman was just getting started and attracting attention in 1984 when she covered this 50s revival song by Kirsty Maccoll, whose backing tracks were simply kept and re-laid behind Tracey's vocals and the new instrumental track. The song is an ode to those couples who no one understood... (like Ric Ocasek and Paulina Porizkova? Britney and K-Fed?) ... where the guy doesn't meet anyone's expectations or approval for the girl, but she loves him anyway, despite what everyone says. (We all knew at least one couple like that in high school, too -- where the boy from the wrong side of the tracks and who everyone thinks is going to be a bum when he gets older somehow ends up with the girl who could have been a cheerleader... I actually Googled the one from my high school tonight out of curiosity. No luck. Oh well.
Anyway, Ullman had a pretty good voice for someone who was making singing her second career. She was kinda cute, too, in that 60s throwback look. Add in a cameo from a Beatle at the end of the video (even if it was the most shamelessly self-promoting Beatle), and you had a one hit wonder by a famous comedian that is better than King Tut. Give me hell for digging a piece of bubblegum if you want, but "They Don't Know" makes #81 on my list.
Friends
One of the only drawbacks to being on the road and on the go so much is that it's very easy to fall out of touch with one's friends. I've found that happening this year; between my friends in DC, New York, the Bay Area, and south Florida, I have done a lousy job of staying in touch. I've pretty much dropped off the face of the earth -- as some of them have recently been reminding me.
To all of you who I've been neglecting recently, I offer a public apology. I'll try to do better in the coming weeks.
Posted by Christopher at 09:15 PM | Comments (1)The Latest Yankee Rape
I don't know why it can still amaze me that the New York Yankee$ get away with rape every year. But every year, I still shake my head at the brazen-ness with which the Yankees attempt to merely purchase another division and World Series title. But while the shamelessness, classlessness and merecenary nature of the Yankee organization shouldn't be a surprise to anyone, the sheer stupidity of other baseball teams continues to astound.
The Philadelphia Phillies traded one of baseball's premier players, Bobby Abreu, along with a journeyman pitcher named Corey Lidle, to the Yankees for four minor leaguers (only one of whom will ever see a game as high up as even AAA), and an agreement that the Yankees would buy off incur the $23 million remaining on Abreu's and Lidle's contracts. Also in the deal, the Yankee$ gave the Phillies a bag of donuts (plain, not glazed or with sprinkles), an empty Baby Ruth wrapper, a 1999 Backstreet Boys desk calendar, one size 8 Doc Marten boot, and one prophylactic, soiled.
As ESPN's analyst put it, "The Yanks bartered in money (of which they have plenty), instead of key prospects (of which they have few) and made out like bandits, while the Phillies came away with some salary relief and not much more." In other words, yet again, the Yankee$ are just trying to arrogantly buy themselves what they are incapable of developing on their own: a championship team.
Of the Yankee$ roster, fully two thirds -- including their entire non-injured starting outfield (Damon, Matsui, Sheffield, Abreu), half their starting infield (Giambi, Rodriguez), and most of their starting rotation (Johnson, Mussina, Lidle, Ponson, Wright) came from other teams; the Yankee$ had to buy them away from somewhere else because they're incapable of developing their own talent. Yankee "fans" (many of whom have suspiciously migrated to Shea this season, now that the Yankee$ are struggling and the Met$ are winning... New York does love to be seen around winners, loyalty be damned) may whine about last millenium's titles and how they pretend to have the "best" organization in baseball, but the truth is, they don't. They only have the richest. A good organization would develop its own stars.
(And yes, Ramirez, Ortiz, and Varitek did not come from the Red Sox' organization. But all those young pitchers we have coming up -- Papelbon, Lester, Hansen, Delcarmen, Clay Buchholz, Edgar Martinez, Bryce Cox, Kris Johnson -- are all home grown. We may miss the playoffs this year -- then again, we may not -- but at least we're restocking from within. The Yankees have only two major-league potential prospects in their system. And inexplicably -- and infuriatingly -- the Phillies managed to not get either one of them.
A bag of donuts, an empty candy bar wrapper, a seven year old desk calendar, and a used condom. Nice trade, Philly.
Posted by Christopher at 08:41 PM | Comments (3)Mel Gibson Is An Idiot
For the record, I never liked the Lethal Weapon movies. I thought they were paint-by-numbers scripts with dialed-in performances. And frankly, Shrek has a better Scottish accent than Mel Gibson's William Wallace did.
Of course everybody has heard by now of Mel Gibson showing his true colors and true beliefs during his recent DUI arrest in California. Driving 87 in a 45 while having a blood alcohol level of .12, Gibson set off on a tirade that was alternately megalomaniacal and hateful, but consistently pathetic, Gibson proved correct everyone who said "The Passion of the Christ" was anti-Semitic.
He not only got pulled over for DUI at 2:30 a.m. on Friday after driving more than 80 mph, he became belligerent with the arresting officers, tried to flee to his car and had to be handcuffed, then yelled, “I own Malibu!” and “You’re going to regret you ever did this to me!” But his anti-Semitic remarks really set this apart from the usual formulaic Hollywood busts. He allegedly said, “The Jews are responsible for all the wars in the world” and then asked a deputy, “Are you a Jew?”
I suppose it's too much to ask that the Hollywood community drum Gibson's pathetic uber-right wing ass out of the business. Then again, not only would that make him an even bigger hero to the Christian right, but it would make him a martyr among his father's friends (his father has famously called the Holocaust "mostly fiction" and Gibson has famously declined to repudiate his father's beliefs). And, as my brother mentioned in an e-mail this afternoon,
Ironically, if Hollywood does run him out of town for being an anti-Semite, it will seem to prove the existence of the "Elders of Zion" kind of world conspiracy that people like Gibson want so deeply to believe in: the hidden
hand of a cabal of Jewish power brokers who run the world and can make or break anyone as they will.
Sad thing is, he's right. Then again, I don't care. Gibson's an idiot, an anti-Semite, and an extremist, and he has earned pariah status. Hopefully, both Hollywood and the movie-going public reject everything he touches from here on out.
Posted by Christopher at 08:10 PM | Comments (0)July 29, 2006
Bloggiversary
It's the ultimate conceit, I suppose, that we bloggers have -- that anyone cares about a specific date on the calendar upon which we finally took the plunge and began for whatever reasons to put our thoughts and experiences out there for the world to see ... and respond to. But because we are linear beings, we do focus on dates, arbitrary though they are. And because we do, bloggers tend to note their bloggiversary as an event worthy of noting. For me, July 29 is that date; today is my three year bloggiversary.
It's become cliche almost, to say "I started this blog for writing practice." Funny how that is ... the people I've found to be the best writers are the ones who say they need practice. Funny, but telling, I suppose. But such is the story of how TCC came to be. Being a corporate speechwriter was beginning to make me feel a little, I dunno, stifled when it came to exercising my creativity. So with Doc's encouragement and without much fanfare, I started jotting down thoughts and recounting tales.
I will spare you the extended soliloquy about how I can't believe that this little tool of writing practice has morphed into my 15 minutes and big career break; even I've grown a little tired of that legend. But I do have to acknowledge that virtually everything about my life today is related to having started this blog. It's not exaggeration to say that nothing in my life would be what it is today if I hadn't started TCC three years ago today; it's just fact. This blog has gotten me promotions, gotten me stamps on my passport, led to getting me the newspaper clippings that now hang framed on the wall near my desk.. it's helped me buy a nicer car, move to a nicer home, it's gotten me friends, gotten me opportunities... hell, it's even gotten me dates. Pretty damned amazing. Life's a trip, ain't it?
In the past three years, I've written about anything and everything. It's hard to narrow it down to few favorite posts from the lifetime of TCC, but I do have some that I particularly enjoy looking back on. For example, I love that I will forever have a written-the-next-day perspective on what it was like to be in Boston the night the Red Sox won the World Series in 2004. And recounting stories from vacations past gives me a window to remember the week of Dave's wedding or getting hit on for group sex by a Greek-Israeli immigrant in a surf shop on the North Carolina shore.
I've been able to tell my dad things I find too hard to say in person. I finally put down in words my thoughts on the Kennedy assassination after getting to spend three years in the mid-90s being paid to investigate it. I remembered being in suburban New York on September 11, 2001.
As the Mudge, I have often shared muscial thoughts -- on musical heroes who've passed, on new bands I've discovered, and on coming to terms with no longer being musically hip. I've occasionally tried to be funny -- and while I usually fail miserably, there've been a couple of times where I think I might have come close.
I've done plenty of navel gazing on this blog, from retelling the legend-in-my-own-mind story about moving east to seek my fortune to daydreaming during a very rough stretch of my life about where my ultimate escape might be, to freaking out about having to grow up and at least play at being a corporate professional, to not knowing what to do with myself now that I'm actually successful and not just trying to work my way up anymore. I've said goodbye to childhood heroes. I've said goodbye to blog friends.
Along the way, I met all of you. Some of you I knew in person already; some I have since met; some I will meet in person in November at the Philadelphia 8K; and some of you I will likely never meet in person. But all of you have contributed to the success of this blog, and by extension the successes in my life since I started it. So instead of celebrating the existence of my silly little corner of blogtopia (y! sctp), I'll close by celelbrating your place in my corner of the world. Thank you for reading, friends.
Posted by Christopher at 01:10 AM | Comments (9)July 28, 2006
Mudge's Favorite 134 Songs of the 80s: Power Chords and Mood Music
Here we go, further into the countdown... this fivesome is full of power chords, rock and roll, and the best 'get it on' singer in the history of getting it on.
90. Heat Of The Moment, Asia Okay, I admit that I hate prog rock, and Asia are a supergroup made up of prog rock refugees. But for proggers, they did all right. "Heat Of The Moment" is pure power pop -- and I love it. Anyone else remember that contest on MTV, one of the first they ever had? "Asia in Asia." Two albums and four chart hits was all Asia had in them... until their apparent reunion in 2006. While I do admit that "The Smile Has Left Your Eyes" is a guilty pleasure of mine, only "Heat" makes my top 134 list. Check the video here.
89. Mr. Brownstone, Guns N Roses The immortal GnR make their first appearance of many on my countdown with this album track from one of the three greatest albums of all time (IMHO). A rollicking, rocking pounder about heroin addiction, Mr. Brownstone simply kicked the ass out of everything else that was out in 1987 .. and it wasn't even released as a single. For the record, I will never, ever forgive Axl Rose for wrecking what might have ended up as the greatest rock band of all time. He can never be forgiven -- he is rock's Steve Bartman -- only Bartman didn't deserve his banishment, and Axl does. Since there's no official video for Brownstone, and in protest of Axl's selfish behavior, I'm linking instead to Velvet Revolver's version (since VR are just GnR with Scott Weiland singing anyway)... the song doesn't actually start until around the 1:12 point of the video though...
88. Summertime Girls, Y&T I always thought Y&T was underated... they were one of the early power metal bands and might thus have come along just a little too soon to catch the full wave. But they did leave us this gem, which is one of my favorite pieces of power pop. Oh yeah - and it features what our friend Tim has referred to as "the greatest video in the history of videos... ever." I mean, they had no choice; when you've got a song that's all about appreciating the female form, especially in the summer when those forms are more on display.... what else can you put in the video but said summetime girls? Good power pop, and fun video.
"I'm in love... yeah yeah... at least every minute or two... until the next little girl walks by... yeah yeah... I think I love you too."
Yeah, it's like that. God bless all you summertime girls.
87. Dude (Looks Like A Lady), Aerosmith The song that completed the comeback that Aerosmith began with their collaboration with Run DMC... and put the boys back on track for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Of course, I might not have picked a song about a transvestite... but I think this is the best song on the subject (sorry, Lola and the Kinks). I love Joe Perry's look in this video -- that duster's pretty cool. Anyway... Aerosmith had crashed and burned by the early 80s, their tanks emptied by drug abuse and infighting. They were giving the dice one last roll -- and they came up big. Check out the video here.
86. Sexual Healing, Marvin Gaye Marvin was the master, man. Never anyone better. The man had one of the most amazing voices in musical history. And while he had a social conscience bigger than most artists who'd ever reached his level and status, he saved his best for the songs that didn't make you want to fight and make the world better; his best songs were the ones that made you want to do something else that starts with F. "Sexual Healing" was one of his best -- and tragically, his last. But... if you click "play" on the video below, make sure you've got someone near you to play with... you know, just in case. This song is velvet, chocolate, candlelight, heat, champagne and strawberries... it's silk sheets, a light touch behind the ear, a soft kiss on the neck, a knowing glance, a do not disturb sign, that jump in the stomach, that jump a little lower, it's rope and leather and satin and lace. Click play on the video below... but I warn you, afterward, you're gonna want a cigarette.
Don't Ask, Don't Tell... Don't Protect Our National Security
I've often opined about how I believe that religious conservatives and their dogmatic, theocratic agenda is the greatest threat we face to what America is supposed to stand for. But that religiously dogmatic agenda is also a direct threat to your personal safety and to national security, and you ought to see it for what it is. To wit:
The United States military prohibits openly gay citizens from serving in the defense of our country. The sole reason for this is extremist Christian religious dogma. Despite the fact that more than two dozen nations -- including some of America's closest military allies, like the United Kingdom, Israel, Germany, Poland, Canada, and Australia -- allow openly gay citizens to serve and have yet to have crippling disciplinary problems (not to mention fire or brimstone falling upon them), the US Taliban fall back on their same tried and true distortion and fearmongering in order to cloud the issue and spread irrational fear. Sadly, the US Taliban have puppets in this White House who are perfectly happy to be led around by their noses, catering to every whim and twitch of the religious right in this country... and so gays are still kicked out of the military for... being gay.
Which is a stupid and short-sighted policy anyway... but when you consider the military situation we're in right now -- both in Iraq and in fighting al Qaida -- it's a downright criminal policy. See, the United States desperately needs people who can speak, understand and translate various dialects of Arabic. Given that al Qaida is out there still (thank you, George W Bush!), it is a matter of national security that we are able to intercept and understand as much as we can about their plans. That's a tall order right now, because there is an acute shortage of qualified Arabic translators. Many candidates are declined because of security concerns (maybe their families emigrated from say, Syria, or they have a few too many friends in Saudi Arabia for the US government's liking, perhaps), and there is simply not enough supply to meet the demand.
You'd think that this dire need -- and the perpetual threat posed to our nation by al Qaida -- would override the US Taliban's irrational and pathetic smear & fear campaign, and that any US citizen who could speak Arabic and serve honorably would be welcome to serve. You'd think wrong, though. Because the Pentagon and the Bush White House would still rather kiss the asses of their religious conservative masters, and would rather keep the US military pure enough for their religiously bigoted ideology, than actually protecting our national security as best they can.
Case in point: Bleu Copas, a decorated soldier and Arabic language specialist (you know, one of those guys we desperately need?) has been kicked out of the Army for being gay.
An eight-month Army investigation culminated in Copas’ honorable discharge on Jan. 30 — less than four years after he enlisted, he said, out of a post-Sept. 11 sense of duty to his country... More than 11,000 service members have been dismissed under the [don't ask, don't tell] policy, including 726 last year — an 11 percent jump from 2004 and the first increase since 2001. the GAO also noted that nearly 800 dismissed gay or lesbian service members had critical abilities, including 300 with important language skills. Fifty-five were proficient in Arabic, including Copas, a graduate of the Defense Language Institute in California.
Discharging and replacing them has cost the Pentagon nearly $369 million, according to the Center for the Study of Sexual Minorities in the Military at the University of California, Santa Barbara.
Your national security at direct risk. $369 million of your money. All so that the hyper-conservative Christian movement can rest easy knowing our military has maintained ideological purity to their satisfaction. The next time one of those social conservative weenies tries to yap about how liberals or Democrats aren't patriotic, they ought to be 1) slugged in the mouth; and 2) asked why it is that they support the forced removal of service members with the skills we desperately need the most.
Oh - and one more thing... I served in the US military (Naval Reserves, 1991-1995). I have been there. I know the culture, I know the routine, I know the camaraderie and I know the espirit de corps that exists in the military. And I wholeheartedly support allowing gays to serve openly. It won't impact morale or discipline any more than any other issue in the barracks. And anyone whining about wanton, hedonistic, immoral sex that could occur in the military as a result of letting "them" in... I submit to you that they've never seen heterosexual servicemen and women who are just getting out of basic, or who are on shore leave, or who are stationed somewhere and are out for a night on the town off base. The military is full of human beings -- young ones at that, for the most part. Human beings have sex. Shut up, deal with it, and get over it... because your ideological purity is directly putting me at risk.
Posted by Christopher at 09:05 PM | Comments (1)July 27, 2006
Mudge's Favorite 134 Songs of the 80s: Video Classics
95. Whisper To A Scream, Icicle Works Is it just me, or were there an awful lot of really good one-hit wonders in the 80s? New wave seemed to enable a whole bunch of bands to come up with that one lightning-in-a-bottle song that flew up the charts and then never happened again. Here's one example. I love the drum and bass line to this song -- love them! -- and the rest of it's pretty damn cool too. There are very few 80s lyrics that make any sense, and this song's no exception ("birds fly in the eye of the faithless daughter/broken at the bitter end" -- WTF??). But this one's a new wave classic. How come Icicle Works never had any other hits? Check out the video here.
94. Beat It, Michael Jackson. I'm just not a fan of people who like to give children the bad touch, so you won't find the King Of Popping LIttle Boys on this countdown anywhere else; despite his dominance of the decade, I can't make myself include him or even like anything he ever did anymore. (Yes, Tim, I know it's sacrilege to do a best of the 80s and not include Billie Jean. And were I being honest, I would admit that I loved "Billie Jean" and it would have made any list I made at the time. But MJ's place on my list has gone the way of his complexion and nose: faded badly and disappearing.)
But "Beat It" has to go on. It just has to. Beyond the Eddie Van Halen solo (all hail and bow when you speak his name), there is the video -- the classic, iconic video that established so many of the genre's most lasting images. It's easy to forget just how groundbreaking this video was when it came out; it really was a landmark achievement. I never did learn whether the apopcrypha about there being "real" gang members dancing in this video was true... but who cares, this was a classic. The star of pop music's most famous morality play comes in for his one and only apperance on my countdown at #94.
93. Sharp Dressed Man, ZZ Top Man, did I go through a ZZ Top phase when the Eliminator album came out. I mean, that tape was all I listened to for about six months. I even had the cheesy ZZ keychain. I was convinced that the single greatest second in the history of rock was when Frank Bread growls "Black tie" behind the lyrics in the first verse. I loved ZZ Top. Of course, by the time their next album came out, I was soooo past them -- had moved on to the metal gods of the time, like Ronnie James Dio and Dokken and Motley Crue. But the irony is, today, ZZ's blues-based rock is much closer to the stuff I really love, and holds up sooooo much better than the goons I left them behind to follow. So let this serve as a belated apology to Billy, Dusty and Frank for abandoning them.
Re: the classic video, did anyone else think that the snooty doorman looked kind of like Qaddafi? (I didn't think so - had to be just me.) As for the rest, all I will say is: the first woman to emerge from the Eliminator car at the party? Hubba forkin' hubba. (The fact that she's probably a grandmother by now is extremely depressing.)
So... is every girl crazy about a sharp dressed man?
92. Love Removal Machine, The Cult Another one that I have fonder memories because we played this one in the band. The first time I was ever able to get my voice to go above it's normal register and stay in tune -- a critical ability if you wanted to sing in an 80s band, given the style of the time -- was learning to hit the "Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby, I fell from the sky" line to open the second verse. And I still remember the first time I actually hit it, rehearsing in the drummer's garage... I'd been flat and low on it every time we'd practiced it, and it was noticeable enough that we weren't going to do it live anywhere... and then the verse began, and I finally got it, and I remember the "holy spit, he nailed it!" look on our bass player's face, and we kept playing it, and eventually it ended up being a staple of our set. God, I miss being 20.
The video is not on YouTube; I could only find a live performance, and even then only of the solo. Sigh.
91. Ace of Spades, Motorhead Nooow we're talking. Good old-fashioned bug-the-spit-out-of-your-parents, turn-that-noise-down! metal from Motorhead. Lemmy is a forkin' god. A god, I tell you. The ugliest god in history, true -- but a god nonetheless. And yeah, this is the Motorhead song that everybody always cites. But there's a reason for that; it's just a great, great song.
Read 'em and weep, the dead man's hand again,
I see it in your eyes, take one look and die,
The only thing you see, you know it's gonna be,
The Ace Of Spades
The Ace Of Spades
Poetry, man. Pure poerty. I realize I've had nothing articulate to say about this song, only mindless gushing. Sometimes music does that to you. Check out the video here -- turn it up, and bang your head!
Posted by Christopher at 07:12 AM | Comments (1)Co-Ed Naked Dirty Hangman
Among the scarier realities of my little world is that some of the members of our little blogging community are also professional collagues of mine. Take Beav, for instance. We're work collagues who have legitimate cause to work together on occasion; we're also blog friends, and have become friends in real life. Since I have about a decade on her and have been navigating the corporate ladder waters for a while, we occasionally get into career development kind of discussions -- she once publicly referred to me as her "pseudo-mentor dude" (a higher compliment having never been paid?) -- and we take the occasional opportunity to get together to bond over food that's bad for us and snark about things.
Last night was one such occasion. Sure, we did talk careers for a little while, but it was also a chance to get together with a friend -- and since I have been about as socially interactive as a bear with an abscessed tooth lately, it was especially good to combine business with degenerate-ness. By the second dirty Grey Goose martini, we'd cast aside the talk about that silly work stuff and had gone on to much more amusing fare.
Like Dirty Hangman. On bar napkins.
We quickly discovered that the fun of the game is not seeing who can come up with the sickest, most Larry Flynt-worthy words or phrases -- although we both did indulge our inner juvenile to come up with some doozies. No, the true fun of dirty hangman is hearing the bizarre and inexplicable crap that comes out of people's mouths when they're trying to guess at dirty words and only have a couple letters as clues.
One of the milder examples (and about the only one I can share here): Ass Rack. I have no idea what an Ass Rack is, or how one would use it exactly. But at the time, it seemed a perfectly legitimate answer to what she'd drawn up, and I was confident I had it right. So, out came "ass rack" from my confused mouth... and half a second of stunned silence later, she just said, "what the hell is an ass rack?" I said, "I think it's that insurance company with the duck. You know: (mimicking duck's voice) Ass-Rack!" We both burst into hysterical schoolgirl giggle fits, and for the rest of the evening any time there was a lull in the conversation, one of us would spit out a ducky "Ass-rack!" and we'd start chortling all over again.
There weren't many lulls in the conversation; we managed to come up with all sorts of guesses of bizarre things that might not exist yet but probably should somewhere. None of them are things I can share on this blog, but trust me when I tell you that I haven't laughed that hard in a long while... I mean, I had Jack Nicholson-Joker-like noises eminating from me for a while there... sore-stomached, catch-your-breath, embarrass-the-neighbors kind of laughing. I think everyone should laugh that hard now and again. I think everyone should play dirty hangman every now and again. I think y'all ought to help us define just what the hell an ass-rack could be.
Thanks for the belly laughs and a perfectly immature evening, Beav. We gotta do that again some time.
Posted by Christopher at 06:36 AM | Comments (3)July 26, 2006
Mudge's Favorite 134 Songs of the 80s: Into The 90s
Admit it... you're secretly digging this little list. Go on... confess. Here we go into the top 100...
100. Russians, Sting First of all, it's a time capsule -- a reminder of a time when two nuclear powers sat poised with thousands of missiles aimed at one another, fingers on the triggers. If you are too young to remember what the Cold War was really like, imagine spending your childhood not just dreading war, but hoping that -- if it did come -- you'd be one of the lucky ones who died instead of living to see the horror of the next day.
The lyrics to this song take me back in time to that period, to that mindset... and it's both scary and sad.
Then, add in the fact that musically, Sting's done something very cool here... the use of minor keys, and backlooping the strings... not only did he craft a pop song that flat out sounded Russian, but he lent it a foreboding tone that more than evoked the emotions that the lyrics came from. And there has perhaps never been a plainer, more direct, more effective expression of fear in music as the final line of Sting's chorus in this song: "I hope the Russians love their children too." Haunting video, and haunting song.
99. Burning Down The House, Talking Heads Awesome concept for a video: inner child takes over not just metaphorically, but physically. As for the song, it's got one of the best rhythm lines in pop history; for me, the drums and Tina Weymouth's bass line make this song. It's fun to move to, it's fun to sing in the car, it's just fun. Check the video here.
98. Sunglasses At Night, Corey Hart Say what you want. Go ahead, tell me it's a terrible song. Tell me the lyrics are insipid. All I have to say is, whatever. Because I will always have a soft spot in my heart for this song; it was playing during a very signifcant 60 or so seconds of my life that happened when I was 16. I think that you'll understand why it brings a smile to my face even today. Yeah, it's a cheesy song. But you can't pick what songs the radio DJ plays, and sometimes you just don't care about changing the station. You know? (I guess it did help that there was a pretty steady drumbeat going on in the song...) And yeah, I know that you've got visuals in your head that may scar you for life -- you're all out there screaming "My eyes! My eyes!" So to help get those thoughts out of your head, check out Corey's video here. And Corey?? Thanks, buddy.
97. How Soon Is Now? The Smiths I never really got into the Smiths; I thought Morrissey was a whiny wanker, and I felt no need to join the other emo progenitors wallowing in their self-proclaimed misery by embracing the Smiths. (It probably matters that I was a pretty happy teenager who actually didn't mind high school and had a pretty good time there.) But Morrissey and his pretentiously indulgent lyrics aside, the guitar line for this song kicks ass. And it was for the music and that guitar line that I liked the song, and that it makes the top 100 now. Check the video here.
96. Don't Come Around Here No More, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers All right... back at #119, I put a-ha's Take On Me in the countdown solely on the strength of its video; here is the second example on this countdown of a song that's on my list entirely because the video rocked. In fact, I'd argue that this video was one of the three best of the decade. Petty's trip through Lewis Carroll's looking glass translated perfectly to the sitar-laced, mysterious-toned song. This is a fabulous example of marrying a creative director's vision to a song that fits it; one of the three best videos of the 80s drives "Don't Come Around Here No More" into my top 100.
Posted by Christopher at 12:02 AM | Comments (1)July 25, 2006
Fool Me Once...
To most objective observers, it's becoming clearer with each passing day that the Israeli government is out of control. A full scale invasion isn't enough... now they're bombing UN peacekeepers.
The Israeli government is aided and abetted, of course, by it's weak-willed brother Fredos in the US administration, who lack the courage or will to put a stop to this onslaught, and who have the audacity to criticize Syria for arming one side while openly arming the other in the conflict. Do as we say, but not as we do; just yet another example of Bushian hypocrisy. And by the way, if the Bush Doctrine is that the US has the right to invade nations whose efforts threaten their neighbors and destablize the region, when does the US invasion of Tel Aviv begin?
To borrow an analogy from Linkmeister... okay, we get that the neighbors' dog has snuck into your yard over and over again, pooped on your lawn, and badly bitten you and your children. No one's saying the neighbor's a good guy. But is the solution really to take a bulldozer to his house after walking into his children's bedrooms with a can of gasoline, a lighter, and an acetylene torch? This is an overreaction on a tragic and historic scale. From 1947 through about 1980, the blame for the conflict in the middle east lies squarely on the shoulders of the Arab countries... but since then, the Israelis have done their damndest to even things up in the blame department.
Oh - and to any US citizen who would outright dismiss the Arab argument about Israel's rights ... I hope you're willing to give your house, your land, and everything on it to Native American tribes. See, the land you live on historically belonged to them... and they have been victims of hatred, persecution and genocide too. So if we're going on a people's historic presence in a place, and their people's history of victimization at the hands of the rest of the world, then your house now belongs to the Cherokee Nation, or the Sioux, or the Seminole or the Narragansett. You've got a week to move. What's that you say? You don't think that's fair? You sympathize with the Native Americans' plight, but you didn't personally steal any land from them, and you've worked hard for your home? Too bad. You have nowhere to go? Not the Native Americans' problem. Get out. You have a week.
Now tell me that the Arab/Palestinians have no cause to resent Israel's presence. Much of it is rooted in religious or ethnic hatred by the Arabs, yes. But not all of it. Not all.
And no, I am not suggesting that Israel should or must tolerate terrorist incursions and attacks from hostile organizations that take refuge with Israel's neighbors. But the sad thing is, Israel's conduct has now ensured the creation of the next generation of terrorists in Lebanon, the Palestininan territories, and elsewhere in the middle east. When a nation is doing this to your people, it's all too easy to listen to the voices of hatred.
This is a lesson the US has learned all too painfully in Iraq; due to our short-sighted and foolhardy invasion there, we have succeeded in breeding an insurgency that shows no signs of slowing, and created a new generation that hates us even more fiercely and desperately than the last. We bungled in Iraq, badly, and we will be paying for that mistake for decades.
Rather than observing and learning from our mistakes, the Israeli government has chosen to repeat them in bulk in the supersized 256 ounce jar. Their conduct in the past month has ensured that a new generation of Arabs will have blood vendettas against Israel, having lost their families to Israeli bombs while the US stood idly by, fiddling while the last chance for peace in a generation burns. And don't think our inaction is going unnoticed... that generation of haters will fix on us as well. We're letting it happen, and they will not forget.
We do not owe the Israeli government blanket support for any action they choose to take, no matter how badly it inflames the situation or harms international peace. You love your brother, sure... but if he is stealing from your wallet, sleeping with your wife, and punching neighborhood children, you don't say, "Well, he's had a hard life, and he's my brother, so it's okay."
It's time for the US to take our first stand against Israel's government since the 1956 Suez War. Rarely, if ever, has the need to do so been more clear.
Posted by Christopher at 10:11 PM | Comments (4)I'll Take Arrogant Ingratitude for $1000, Alex
It seems that everybody's least favorite smarmy, flyover country living, geeky nobody -- Ken Jennings -- has started believing his own press just a little too much, and he's bitten the hand that feeds him. Jennings, who won $2.5 million on Jepoardy a while back, is on a blog snarking at the show that made his pipsqueak ass rich, and Alex Trebek as well.
In the posting, Jennings went on to say about Trebek: “Nobody knows he died in that fiery truck crash a few years back and was immediately replaced with the Trebektron 4000 (I see your engineers still can’t get the mustache right, by the way).”... He also took aim at what he said were the show’s “effete, left-coast” categories and “same-old” format. “You’re like the Dorian Gray of syndication,” he wrote. “You seem to think ‘change’ means replacing a blue polyethylene backdrop with a slightly different shade of blue polyethylene backdrop every presidential election or so.”
Okay... I will reveal a deep dark secret of mine: I was on Jepoardy once. In 1997. (I gacked an easy question in Final Jepoardy after being totally in position to win the whole thing and dominating Double Jepoardy.) It's a bitter memory, failing so ignominiously on national television. I thought Trebek was stuck-up, mean to the production staff, and generally not a nice guy. So if there's anyone who's inclined to bash Jepoardy and Trebek, it's me.
But I don't, generally. And if I hadn't gacked an easy question (name the only country that has the same name as an American state), but had instead won $2.5 million, I'm quite sure that I'd keep my mouth shut. Especially if I were a geeky pissant from Utah who didn't get laid until I was 33 years old, had the personality of a ball of dryer lint, and got lucky and got my 15 minutes and life's fortune from a game show. If I was that big of a loser, I'd shut my mouth and be glad for my fortune.
"Effete, left-coast?" Yeah, that's what the coastal engines of the US economy want -- to be told off by some cult-belonging, backward, narrow-minded, mountain time zone cletus. Be thankful you have a job and some game show money, Poindexter.
(For the record, I have nothing against the non-coastal regions or the mountain time zone. I just hate the attitudes of pissants like this guy... so I'm reaching for whatever insult I can grab hold of.)
Posted by Christopher at 09:10 PM | Comments (1)Mudge's Favorite 134 Songs of the 80s: Wrapping Up The Triple Digit Club
I have lots to say politically today... but time precludes my doing so right now. (Lots happening at work right now, so life's hopping a little.) So, instead of me ranting at the government and howling at the moon, you get the latest installment in my 80s music countdown -- the last of the century club of the list. (That'd be those songs above #100... so if I'd have been more decisive and actually been able to pare the list to a standard top 100, these'd be the songs that would have been the final five cut.)
105. It's My Life, Talk Talk In general, covers are embarrassing things in pop music; think Tiffany's version of "I Think We're Alone Now" or the Ataris' version of "The Boys Of Summer." But I'll acknowledge that No Doubt did a decent job a couple of years back of covering this new wave classic... except that the original was better. The video was totally stupid -- wildlife, a zoo, and some bizarro hand drawn little squiggly thing? -- but the song was great, featuring one of the better bass leads of the decade. Talk Talk never really had a big hit anywhere; even this, their most famous song, peaked at #31 on the US charts. But this stupid video was in heavy rotation on MTV, so I heard it a lot... and liked it, then and now.
104. Every Day I Write The Book, Elvis Costello and the Attractions This Elvis is one of my all time favorites, though most of his stuff that I really love came out in the late 70s. The exception is this, one of his poppier songs. Easily accessible... and since it compares life and relationships to the writing of a book, I suppose it was predestined that I'd like it. The video featured lookalikes of Princess DIana and Prince Charles, which was an element of kitsch that for some odd reason appealed to my just-turning-16 year old self when this song came out in the summer of 1984. Not the best Elvis Costello song, by a longshot... but his best of the 80s, in my opinion. Check the video here.
103. Talk Dirty To Me, Poison Oh, where to begin here? Sadly, I was into Poison back in the day... in the band, we played this song as one of our showstoppers.. and I had the look down, man. (Scary visual, I know.) Because I still remember the pure adrenalin rush of playing this song in front of a crowd that was dancing and singing along, I can't bring myself to condemn it the way I know I should. I mean, this isn't even cheddar cheese, this one's pure limberger -- and as Tim is fond of saying, it has the worst throw to a solo in the history of pop music ("CC, pick up that guitar and, uh, TALK TO ME!!!") I know I should disdain this song and deny ever having loved it. Only I can't. Because I did, and I have to admit -- I still do.
102. Still Loving You, the Scorpions German power ballads make my nether regions tingle. The one problem with this song is that it never ended... power ballads are supposed to be short, so that you can quickly get to the lovin' that's sure to result after a bad boy rocker reveals his tender side to the girl who's brought it out in him. Instead, this one goes on for almost six minutes. Then again, maybe that's why it seems to me to hold up a little better than most of its genre. Check the video here.
101. I Know There's Somethin' Goin' On, Frida You know, for a chick from Abba, Frida came up with a kinda cool tune here. The Phil Collins-esque drum sound helped, I think -- as did the rhythm guitar behind the end of the verses and chorus. I mean, this song is decidedly not Abba-eqsue. Add in the self-harmony laid in during the chorus, and this one actually holds up, with much less of the kitsch appeal of the rest of the Abba catalog. And of course, Salma Hayek played her in the movie. (Oops; wrong Frida. Never mind. It doesn't matter, because she still got nekkid in that movie, so let me make whatever musical associations I want to it.) Check the video here.
Posted by Christopher at 05:22 AM | Comments (3)Mudge's Favorite 134 Songs of the 80s: Recap of #134-#101
134. Legs, ZZ Top
133. She’s A Beauty, The Tubes
132. Tonight It’s You, Cheap Trick
131. Holy Diver, Dio
130. Hungry Like The Wolf, Duran Duran
129. Let’s Go All The Way, Sly Fox
128. Once In A Lifetime, Talking Heads
127. When I See You Smile, Bad English
126. Alex Chilton, the Replacements
125. Dancin’ With Myself, Billy Idol
124. One Night In Bangkok, Murray Head
123. A View To A Kill, Duran Duran (2)
122. I Wanna Be A Cowboy, Boys Don’t Cry
121. Cruel Summer, Bananarama
120. Just Between You And Me, April Wine
119. Take On Me, a-ha
118. Behind The Wall Of Sleep, the Smithereens
117. Centerfold, J Geils Band
116. We’re Not Gonna Take It, Twisted Sister
115. I’m That Type Of Guy, LL Cool J
114. Everybody’s Gotta Learn Sometime, The Korgis
113. What About Me? Moving Pictures
112. Wouldn’t It Be Good, Nik Kershaw
111. Under The Milky Way, The Church
110. Alone, Heart
109. Goody Two Shoes, Adam Ant
108. Drive, The Cars
107. Relax, Frankie Goes To Hollywood
106. Blister In The Sun, Violent Femmes
105. It’s My Life, Talk Talk
104. Everyday I Write The Book, Elvis Costello
103. Talk Dirty To Me, Poison
102. Still Loving You, The Scorpions
101. Something Goin’ On, Frida
Life Imitates... Life
Far be it from me to laugh at other people's misfortune... oh hell, who am I kidding? I'm a curmudgeon; it's what we do. And in this case, the misfortune is so metaphorically perfect that it's delicious -- not to mention that anything is funnier when it happens to crackers.
The marriage proposal that ended with a plane crash began with the bride-to-be thinking she was going on a date to the movies. But Adam Sutton, 19, had other plans.
He had convinced his high school sweetheart, Erika Brussee, 18, to take a chartered flight around the Rome area Friday. And Sutton's plan included having family members hold up a sign asking Brussee to marry him... Sutton had arranged for family members to stand on the ground below the plane's flight path holding up a tarp with the proposal written on it.
"(The tarp) was upside down when we went around, but I saw the word `marry.' Then I saw my mom waving at me, and then I knew what was happening." But her glee was short-lived. The plane crashed at the Richard B. Russell Regional Airport.
First of all, they lived -- so I can make fun of it all I want. Secondly, they're crackers; a 19 year old and an 18 year old getting engaged -- and her parents help with the proposal? I mean, I grew up in what some might consider the backwoods... but even there, had an 18 year old girl been proposed to by her boyfriend, that boy might find himself acquainted with the business end of her daddy's shotgun. (We waited till a much more "sensible" age back home... like 21 or 22.) The fact that this girl's family was aiding and abetting the effort, instead of locking the two of them up and pointing out to each of them how ridiculously too young they are for anything like this, tells you pretty much what you need to know. This couple's a divorce waiting to happen...
Which brings me to the part of the story that amuses the hell of out me. Could there be any more perfect metaphor for this impending marriage (hell, for any marriage, for that matter) than a plane crash? I mean, their lives aren't just about to go down in flames figuratively... they figured out a way to go down in flames literally too! I mean, kids, I know y'all started out a bit rough, but just keep this in mind:
You started out with a plane crash... and it's all downhill from here.
Posted by Christopher at 05:03 AM | Comments (0)July 22, 2006
Fortune
He extends his hand to me, a soft smile on his face and the kindness in his eyes that we extend to strangers when we first meet them.
"I've heard a lot about you," he says, surprising me. I have no idea who he is -- haven't even ever heard his name in the professional circles that I've been running in lately.
On the conference circuit, we're all beginning to know one another pretty well: the small but growing group of those who have been deemed "experts" in blogging and the evolution of what they're calling "new media." Everybody wants to talk about how business will use blogs, and there's only a relative few of us who can speak with any authority to that... so we end up being invited to do panels or give presentations and speeches at the same conferences. After seeing each other at events from San Francisco to Toronto to London, we're starting to get to know one other socially, friendships are forming, and the names of those in the "inner circle" of the circuit start to become familiar, even when you haven't yet met.
But this gentleman is different. I've not heard his name, never heard of his blog. Then again, this conference is not like the others I've attended. In any way.
"Nice to meet you," I tell him, shaking his hand warmly. "I'm looking forward to hearing you speak this afternoon."
He wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead; it's July in Washington DC, and unfortunately for us the building in which we're holding the conference is having air conditioning issues this morning. "Thank you," he says with that slightly British accent that so many foreigners who've been schooled in English as their second language have. "I hope you'll find it interesting."
"I'm sure I will." I pause, stuck in that awkward moment when you meet someone new and you can't decide whether to continue the conversation or find a reason to excuse yourself. Something makes me want to keep talking.
"Do you speak at these things often?" I ask. There's still something about this man -- an inner strength that radiates from him, but tempered by something more, an emotion I can't put my fingers on. "No," he says. "Or, not in these circles, anyway."
I've just flown in to Washington, having survived weather-related delays and airport insanity to arrive in town 24 hours after I was scheduled to, having been placed on seven separate flights from four separate terminals in two different airports on three separate airlines before finally winning the lottery and getting a shuttle to National a couple of hours ago. I had time only to check in at my hotel and drop my gear off before getting a cab to the conference. And for some reason, despite the theme of the conference, I assume that the other speakers don't live in DC either; I assume that he's had to fly to get here too and might have similar travel nightmare stories. Since I am in the mood to vent about my own, I decide to push that button to see if he'll join me in complaining about flight havoc.
"So how long are you here?" I ask him. "When are you going home?"
A look crosses his face that betrays emotion stronger than I expected; it takes me aback and for some unknown reason I feel like I have just said something wrong. He looks at me but through me, and for a moment he barely seems to be in the room despite his physical presence.
"It looks like I will be here a long time," he says quietly. "I think it will be a long time before I can go home."
I don't know how to respond to that. I am suddenly acutely aware of the theme of the conference and its location, and realize that my sense of "home" and his are different -- and that the definitions of the "hell" we each went through to get here are likely so opposite in scale that they're not comparable.
We talk for a few more moments, mostly in the pleasantries that speakers on the same agenda extend to one another. We're seated at the same table, so there's no chance for me to sneak a quick look at his bio and find out just how much of a faux pas I've just committed. But in the ensuing conversation as others join us at our assigned seats, his story becomes clearer to me.
He is a dissident. In his home country, the media are controlled by the state; blogs and e-mail and text messages are among the only tools the people have to speak freely -- and after being initially caught off guard, the government has caught on and monitors blogs, especially looking for anything written by known "agitators." Blog the wrong thing, and you can count on a visit from the secret police. Blog the wrong thing again, and you are probably headed to jail for a little while. Blog the wrong thing a third time, and you can probably expect that you probably won't get the chance to blog the wrong thing a fourth time. He's blogged the 'wrong' thing one too many times; he's in Washington because he needed to find someplace else to go when the police came looking for him one last time.
As I listen, I compare his life with mine. I started a blog upon which, among other things, I frequently criticize my government; so did he. I was eventually promoted when my bosses became aware of my efforts; he was eventually exiled when his government became aware of his. My reward has been to become 'famous,' speaking at conferences all over the world and being interviewed by the BBC, Wall Street Journal, and a hundred others; his reward was perhaps permanent exile from his homeland, and the kinds of treatment you'd expect when the police are showing up to "discuss" something you wrote on your blog.
I suddenly realize that I have no idea at all of what the word courage means. Not next to him.
And later in the conference, when it's my turn on stage and it's me who's fielding questions from the audience, I feel something that I have not felt in months (to my shame): humility. Today, I'm not the expert, not the one they've come to see; today, in my mind, I am the least of those in the room. They're asking me questions, and even though I am giving my best answers, throwing in my well-practiced one-liners that always get a laugh when every new audience hears them, and sounding for all the world like the expert they've brought me here to be, I still can't help but feel like I am the one with so much to learn from them.
To be periodically reminded of one's fortune in life is a healthy thing. To have it thrust into your eye like the Biblical beam to where it cannot be ignored is a sobering, altering experience.
When the day is over, I go back to my hotel, sit down on the edge of the bed, bury my face in my hands, close my eyes, and remind myself of how truly small I really am. And how truly lucky I have been.
Posted by Christopher at 09:48 AM | Comments (4)Mudge's Favorite 134 Songs of the 80s: #110-#106
110. Alone, Heart I kinda hate to admit that I like this song. I mean, power ballads are one thing, but embracing the Wilson sisters' sellout is another. Then again, I never liked the Wilson sisters or Heart -- in fact, this is their only song that I think is worth anything. So the hell with it: on the list it goes, at #110. See the video here.
109. Goody Two Shoes, Adam Ant New wave added an element that punk was too tough, sneering or afraid to include: dance that didn't involve slamming or spitting/gobbing. And of all the new wave dance songs, this one's among my favorites. Looking at the video, it amazes me that Adam Ant didn't get "outed" later in life. But, this is one of the very few songs in the world that will ever get my no-rhythm-having white butt onto a dance floor, not caring just how foolish I look. (Ever see a bulldozer do doughnuts? That's about what it's like watching me dance.) See the much more aesthetically pleasing visual images of this song in the video here.
108. Drive, The Cars I don't know what it is, but my favorite Cars songs all have Benjamin Orr singing lead and not Ric Ocasek. Maybe it's subconscious resentment that a tall, goony looking guy with the Adam's Apple from hell like Ocasek could land and keep a woman who looks like Paulina Porizkova.... whose mental breakdown depicted in the video might not have been all acting, judging by her choice in men. But has anyone ever made madness look so hot? Anyway, I always liked this song, even slower as it was than the rest of the Cars' body of work. Check the video out here.
107. Relax, Frankie Goes To Hollywood The most popular explicitly about gay sex song ever to chart, "Relax" is a campy classic... and admit it, how many of you had a "Frankie Say Relax" t-shirt? You did; I know you did. This song is a perfect example of the blue-noses helping make a song much bigger than it ever would have been without them; if not for all the controversy they raised, the song might not have ever hit in the States. Then again, this is one song whose lyrics, even 20 years later and in the hip-hop era of sexually suggestive blatantly crude music, still seem shockingly overt. Which of course is why we all like it.
106. Blister In The Sun, Violent Femmes Probably the female party anthem of the decade... 22 years on, the quickest way to get a roomful of women dancing and behaving like crazed Dionysian nymphs is to put the Femmes on. I know of few songs that have a similar effect (maybe "Dancing Queen," but that's about it). Gordon Gano recut the song for the "Grosse Pointe Blank" a few years ago, which is as close to self-sacrilege as when Aerosmith performed with Britney Spears at the Super Bowl a few years ago. Sadly, the only video I cound find is for the new version, not the original. Still, find yourself a girl or three, crank up this video, and watch them become wholly other people in front of you.
Posted by Christopher at 09:11 AM | Comments (7)July 21, 2006
Mudge's Favorite 134 Songs of the 80s: You Know You Wanted It
So after a few days' delay, between travel issues and power issues (what the hell is it with Mother Nature, anyway? Two tornadoes in a week, both less than five minutes from my home?), I'm returning with a handful more 80s songs for you to have stuck in your head all day. And no matter how much you may claim that you hate the 80s, think my lists are pedantic and wish that I would return to real blogging... come on. Admit it. You know you missed it. You know you wanted it. Confess.
115. I'm That Type Of Guy, LL Cool J One of the few raps from the 80s that I was into (or had even been exposed to). I actually really like LL Cool J, and if "Mama Said Knock You Out" had been released in the 80s and not 1991, it would have been in my top 12, I think. Anyway, when "I'm That Type Of Guy" came out in 1989, I fashioned it to be my own theme song... which of course was ridiculous for more reasons than I can even begin to discuss. But I fancied myself able to charm any girl, boyfriend or not... and lived out that belief; I'll just say that the existence of a boyfriend wouldn't stop me from making a play if I thought the woman was hot. Don't worry, karma certainly paid my ass back in just about another half decade or so. But... this song is a great snake's anthem, and of course any song that can incorporate the Wizard of Oz's flying monkey song into its chorus has to make it into the countdown. Watch the video here.
114. Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometime, The Korgis One of the more unlikely chart hits of the decade, this moody, synth-laden, pleading 1980 song has always been a favorite of mine, though I couldn't tell you why. I think it's just because it's a pretty song (yes, I used the word pretty; shut up). Every now and then, a one hit wonder will come along with a song you think is a brilliant first single in an extended string of winning songs... and it turns out that they just caught lightning in a bottle and had a great only hit. The Korgis had a few others in the UK, but this was their only US hit. Listen/watch here.
113. What About Me?, Moving Pictures One of those songs where I can't explain what it's doing on my list. I don't know why I like this song. The video features an ice cream shop in the Outback; I don't think it's the video that did it. And in reality, the lyrics are a bunch of whiny, self-indulgent selfishness. (On the other hand, I guess that would make this song the perfect anthem for the Reagan decade and all of his voters... the 1980s "Poverty Sucks" Reagan yuppies personified whiny self-indulgent selfishness.) Anyway, for whatever unbeknownst reason, this piano-laden piece of melodrama makes my list -- if I am using the criteria "would I stop flipping radio channels if the song came on while I was driving home?," I can't lie... I would, and so here it is at #113.
112. Wouldn't It Be Good?, Nik Kershaw. Somebody, for the love of all that's holy, tell me what this video has to do with the song??? But odd video or not, this was always one of my favorite pieces of new wave pop. The guitar/trumpet dual solo still sounds really cool too. Another of the 80s one hit wonders whose one hit was really good, but who never lived up to their promise. Maybe it was because of this stupid-ass video.
111. Under The Milky Way, The Church You'll notice something as this list continues... if a song had a bagpipe solo, its odds of being on my list increased exponentially. I'm not Scottish; I don't even play one on TV... and yet, I'm all over those bagpipe solos. This is another on the list of inexplicable things about me, along with why I laugh at Adam Sandler and why I'm terrified of bridges. It's also another of the one-hit wonders on my list, with the Church's sole US hit coming in at #111 on my top 134 list. Check the video here.
Posted by Christopher at 04:14 AM | Comments (3)July 20, 2006
Joseph Lieberman, Will You Please Go Now?
I saw some news today that brought a smile to my face; the fake Democrat in Connecticut, Joe Lieberman, is no longer leading the real Democrat, Ned Lamont, in the polls for the Democratic primary for the US Senate seat. It's statistically a dead heat due to margin of error, though Lamont now leads 51-47 among registered Democrats.
One of the things that would make me happiest this election season is seeing that Republican who fraudulently masquerades as a Democrat be ignominiously dumped by the people of Connecticut and removed from the Senate. Of course, since Lieberman has no principles other than his own hold on power, he's already shown his disdain for the party he claims to be a member of... he will not abide by the result of the primary -- will not respect the wishes of Democratic voters -- if he loses. Which means he'll enter himself as a third candidate, split the Democratic vote, and deliver the state to another Republican.
Lieberman's shameful acquiescence to the Iraq war and his quisling-like support for George W. Bush's war was bad enough to get his conservative butt booted. But beyond the war, Lieberman's been in bed with the right wing on so many issues, the mattress has an indentation. He's never been a Democrat; there's room in our party for multiple perspectives but not for someone who sides with the bad guys three out of four times. His defeat in the primary will lead to another Republican winning in November, but it might just be worth it. Seeya, Joe. Don't let the door hit you in your Republican ass on the way out.
Posted by Christopher at 08:31 PM | Comments (2)Open Letter To Airport Idiots
Dear Angry, Stupid Person:
There's travel delays. It happens from time to time. You screaming at Joey Bagodonuts behind the counter will not make the torrential downpours stop nor end the lightning storms; your tantrum will not make the lights go back on in places where they're out..
Speaking of Joey, he's been trying to help you for 30 minutes now. You're still standing at the check-in counter, occasionally flailing your arns and animatedly trying to get him to do something. Well guess what? If you haven't gotten anywhere with him in 30 minutes, you're not going to get anywhere; if he could help you he would. He hasn't, so quit monopoilzing his time at my expense; it isn't going to change your situation. Meanwhile, I have a calm conversation to have with him. Get the hell out of my way.
And would you look at that? They cancelled our flight. Yes, I know it's 10:00 pm and none of us knew it was coming. I know it was a frustrating six hours here at the airport trying to go home. And I know none of us can fly out tonight now. But they've just asked us all to form a line and arrange reschedules. I don't know if you're aware, but the baby-faced kid behind the desk has no policy influence within his airline to change their policy about not paying for a hotel for you if the delays are caused by the weather. So you screaming at him mercilessly for 20 minutes isn't going to change the fact that no planes are coming tonight, that you'll be missing your connection, or that the airline's policy is not to pay for your hotel if the delays are weather related. He doesn't make those calls, and he's not empowered to tonight -- no matter how loudly you shout. You're making an idiot of yourself... and worse yet, you're giving me a headache. And that's the last thing I want right now. So sit the fork down, shut the fork up, and chill the fork out before I come over there and slap some manners back into your damn head.
Oh - and one last thing... quit eating those gawddamn pretzels in the gate area. My nerves are as frayed as yours; the last thing I need is to listen to you chomping blissfully away on that bag of rocks and chewing with your mouth open. Keep it up, and you're like to get a donkey punch.
Posted by Christopher at 06:53 PM | Comments (6)July 18, 2006
Mudge's Favorite 134 Songs of the 80s: Video Classics
The next fivesome in the 80s list feature some all-time classic videos. (Though one of them, ironically, comes from the age before videos.)
120. Just Between You And Me, April Wine. For some reason, I'd had this pegged as a 70s song, like 1979. But Tim reminded me that it had in fact been 1981. The thing with songs from that early is that they weren't making many videos at that point. So when you go to YouTube to find links, you find not real videos but flat live versions of songs recorded years after the band's glory days. This is what happened in the case of this song by Canadian rockers April Wine. If you remember the original version of this, their only hit, you know it was much better. But - for those of you who weren't around... at this link you will find not just the song I am talking about, but also what Good Charlotte and Sum 41 will look like in 2030.
119. Take On Me, a-ha Let's face it, this song exists for just two reasons: one, to show off the amazing video, and two, to torture karaoke singers and their audiences 20 years later. The song itself is forgettable. But add in its unforgettable and groundbreaking video, and this becomes a classic. (Sadly, the cutie in the video appeared in 2004 on some MTV reunion of the video vixens, and I must tell you that time did not treat her kindly.) But during the making of this video, she -- and the band, and the song, and the direction -- was smokin'. Rotoscope still looks cool 20 years on. The song was okay; the video rocked -- enough to make my top 134 list at #119.
118. Behind The Wall of Sleep, The Smithereens This was the very first song I ever sung on stage in front of people; the first party we ever played, we opened the set with a Smithereens cover. It's also a remarkable song in that the Smithereens, who are quite obviously just "regular guys," managed to get a recording contract in the age of video superstars. I'll always have a soft spot for this song, even if it doesn't really fit the 80s genre as much (or perhaps because it doesn't). Watch the video here.
117. Centerfold, J. Geils Band Yet another song from the 80s whose image and lasting power is greatly enhanced by its video. I mean, what's not to love? Schoolgirl outifts, chicks in choreographed sync dressed in negligees and sweatshirts with no pants on, 80s makeup, and a snare drum full of milk... what more could you ask for? (Seriously, though, what was the deal in the 80s with putting stuff in snare drums during videos? Milk, glitter... everybody was putting stuff in their drums. Blue Man Group, eat your heart out.) Add in the chant-along part of the chorus -- honestly, how many of you weren't running around singing "na na, na-na na na, nuh-na-na-na-nuh-na-na na-na" when this song came on? -- and you have a memorable 80s video and song, worthy of #117. See the video here.
116. We're Not Gonna Take It, Twisted Sister Speaking of bands who wouldn't have been anything at all without MTV and video, I present you with Twisted Sister. Aided by an appearance by Niedermeyer from Animal House, tapping into the stereotypical "my parents don't get it, so the hell with them" angst and rebellion, and featuring cartoon violence worthy of Wile E. Coyote, the video for "We're Not Gonna Take It" was custom made for MTV's core audience. Better yet, it freaked out uptight prudes like Tipper Gore. And it starred a bunch of Jersey Shore types turning clown makeup into glam, led by the future voice of MSNBC. This song had everything you needed for a guaranteed hit -- telling off of parents and a generation that disapproved of us, power chordus impressivus, a sing along chorus, and sung by a band that was a dead lock cinch to both repulse and scare the snot out of parents. In other words, good band or bad, it was a guaranteed moneymaker. And it did. All in all, a classic piece of 80s Americana.
Posted by Christopher at 07:15 AM | Comments (5)JokeVP
What was the ridiculous justification from Yankee fans last year for the game's biggest choke artist, Alex Rodriguez, being named American League MVP while the best clutch hitter of his generation, David Ortiz, was robbed of his rightful award? "Oh, A-Rod plays in the field," they said. "Papi is just a DH. A-Rod saves a dozen runs per week because of his defense. That's why he's more valuable than Ortiz."
Yeah. Uh huh. Yet again last night, the Choke Artist gagged again. "After making a career-worst three errors, Rodriguez was lifted in the eighth inning because of a sore left big toe... The three errors raised Rodriguez's season total in that category to 16, his highest single-season total since 2001."
Yeah. MVP because of his defense. Whatever. You Yankee$ fans can shut the hell up now and give Papi back his award.
Posted by Christopher at 06:56 AM | Comments (2)The Best Protection Money Can Buy
Courtesy of Linkmeister, here's the latest example of the disgrace that is the Bush Administration and how it is miserably failing to uphold the oath that W swore. Even though he bears the ultimate responsibility for protecting and defending the lives of American citizens, George W. Bush won't evacuate American citizens from war-torn Lebanon unless they pay him to do it.
Americans have been told to wait for a telephone call that could come in hours — or days. They've also been told they can't board a ship unless they've signed a contract agreeing to repay the U.S. government for the price of their evacuation.
Dick Cheney's Halliburton gets billions in no-bid contracts and has fattened itself (and Cheney, for that matter) on the war that Bush started under false pretenses in Iraq... but US citizens have to pay for their own safety. Bush will hand out billions in tax breaks to fat rich businessmen, but when it comes to protecting Americans' lives, well, that has a cost?
It's only fitting from this administration. They came into power in a manner befitting a third world banana republic; why shouldn't we expect them to behave like third world banana dictators? Well, except that this is the United States of America, and we're supposed to deserve better. This administration is a disgrace.
Another element worthy of a dictatorship: after Karl Rove and Dick Cheney leaked an undercover operative's name and identity in an act of political retribution and pique... after people have been arrested in this country for showing up at Bush rallies with anti-Bush t-shirts... the people have finally gotten the message. Under this criminal administration, American citizens now feel that they cannot criticize the Bush government without fear of retribution.
The rules have angered Americans who are already fatigued and nervous after days of explosions. "I'm freaked out that our government is treating us this way," snapped a Rutgers University student who had been studying Arabic at the American University of Beirut. She declined to give her name for fear she would be taken off the passenger list in retribution for criticizing the evacuation effort.
Last time I checked, Americans had the right to criticize anything they wanted without being afraid that someone in the government was watching and might engage in retribution. Only in George W. Bush's Republican America do our own people have to fear that their own government behaves like the Middle Eastern theocrats we make such a show of being more free than.
And the line between supporting Bush and treason grows dimmer every day.
Posted by Christopher at 06:29 AM | Comments (2)July 17, 2006
And Kissing Makes Your Face Explode
You're paying for religious right wing scare mythology and propaganda, did you know that?
Yep. Your tax dollars are going to "pregnancy centers" (read: christian right wing extremist propaganda centers) so they can knowingly and willingly lie to their clients, deliberately spreading misinformation designed to scare women who have unintended pregnancies.
Congressional aides, posing as pregnant 17-year-olds, called 25 pregnancy centers that have received some federal funding over the past five years. The aides were routinely told of increased risk for cancer, infertility and stress disorders, said the report, which was prepared for Rep. Henry Waxman, D-Calif.
In February 2003, a National Cancer Institute workshop concluded that having an abortion or miscarriage does not increase a woman's subsequent risk of developing breast cancer. The report from the Democratic aides also said the pregnancy resource centers provided false information about the mental health effects of abortion, telling the aides that it could cause severe long-term emotional harm. However, an American Psychological Association panel said, "Severe negative reactions are rare."
What's worse is that when these religious police were caught red-handed, they basically said 'we don't care that we're dispensing false information. We know it's false, and we don't have any intention of stopping.'
"This isn't about a medical statistic to us. We do post-abortion counseling every day," Ford said.
In other words, we know we're lying, but we know that the White House is in our pocket and cowering in fear while catering to our every whim. We know you can't touch us. So we're going to keep doing it and being right in your face about it. And most of all, we're going to make you pay for it. What do you think about that?
Typical right wing christian extremism... based in propaganda, no basis in fact, and blatantly against the law... and yet they don't care. What else did you expect?
Posted by Christopher at 09:38 PM | Comments (1)July 16, 2006
Mudge's Favorite 134 Songs of the 80s: Pure Cheese
I didn't plan on lumping a bunch of cheesy songs together on this list... it just sort of happened this way. But - here's the most embarrassing grouping of five that you'll find in my list... seems perfect to go home on, huh? We start this section of the countdown with the least embarrassing of the bunch.
125. Dancin' With Myself, Billy Idol The iconic imagery of Billy Idol came from this video. That rooftop is so cheesy, but still you cannot turn away. And of course, there's the urban legend about what "Dancin' With Myself" really meant. This is Billy's first of three appearances on my little list. Watch the video here.
124. One Night In Bangkok, Murray Head. Because every list needs a song from a Broadway muscial written by members of ABBA. Well, that and every list needs some synth-pop semi-rapped by a British stage actor who'd played Judas Iscariot in Jesus Christ Superstar. Rapping about board games. And sex. And the multiple double-entendres that result from the combination. And because one town's very like another when your head's down over your pieces, brother. This is one of my biggest guilty pleasure songs ever. Catch the video here.
123. A View To A Kill, Duran Duran The Fab Five make their second appearance on my list with a song that will go down in history. First, because it was the first theme from a Bond movie ever to hit #1. And second, because Simon LeBon couldn't hit the notes to save his life at LiveAid, and it resulted in the day's worst performance. But the video's worth it if only to hear Simon at the end. "Bon... Simon LeBon." Heh heh heh. Check the video here.
122. I Wanna Be A Cowboy, Boys Don't Cry I admit it fully and without reservation; this is the cheesiest song on the list, and the biggest guilty pleasure song of the 80s for me. I still can't believe I'm admitting to it front of you all. I can't even explain why I liked it then or still like it now. I just do. This stands as one of the wonderfully cheesy 80s one hit wonders, from Boys Don't Cry. Oh, yippee! Yippee yo yo! Cheesy synth drums, cheesy 80s effects, cheesy synth rhythm line, and hilariously awful lyrics... so what's not to love? Wait... don't answer that. "My name is Ted... and one day, I'll be dead, yo yo." Gotta love it. Watch the video here..
121. Cruel Summer, Bananarama Attractive women eating bananas... gosh, 80s videos were subtle, weren't they? And getting into a police chase and eluding the cops by tossing banana peels at their windshield? But - the song stands out among the decade's Brit-Pop. The backing spurts "Aaaaah... What did they say?" "It's a cruel!" -- gotta love them. And there's actually a really good dance guitar riff behind the chorus, if you can get past the synth-heavy rhythm line. And the xylophone?! How many pop songs use xylophone??? Fun song, and it closes out my cheesiest five tracks of the list, at #121.
Posted by Christopher at 10:53 AM | Comments (6)Can't We All Just Get Along?
There's a war on. That part's not news, because there's almost always a war on somewhere -- especially in the Middle East. This one's particularly sad, because it never should have started.
Obviously, I support Israel's right to exist, and to defend itself. However, I'm pretty sure I don't support the idea of starting a full-scale invasion that involves the bombing of airports and civilians over three kidnappings. (And to think, just a few weeks ago we were near an agreement where Hamas would have recognized Israel's right to exist. Think we'll ever get that close now?) I'm saddened that so close to a potential breakthrough in the peace process, Israel has chosen to overreact so heavily and has deliberately escalated the situation there.
Then again, after the last few years, I don't have a whole lot of sympathy left for Hezbollah, Hamas, the Palestinians, or anyone left on the other side either. Doubtlessly, Syria and Iran have been egging Hezbollah on, thriving on the instability in the region for their own interests (has anyone heard much about Iran's nuclear program in the past week?). As angry as I am about Israel's conduct, it's awfully hard to feel that their opponents have been all that wronged -- or to feel sympathy for them if they have been. Has anyone forgotten the video of Middle Easterners dancing in the streets when news of 9/11 hit?
I'm frustrated that the US apparently will march in lockstep with Israel in the UN, no matter what the Israeli government does or how it acts. We get led around by our noses -- with a combination of "democracies stick together" mentality and a faith-based belief that even questioning the policy of their government is tantamount to betrayal -- and lend credence to the often-spoken belief in the Middle Eastern "street" that the US plays favorites.
I'm saddened that civilians on both sides are dying because of angry and foolish men in "leadership" positions. And I'm saddened that we never seem to learn. Any of us.
Posted by Christopher at 10:24 AM | Comments (1)Is Red Dead?
Can you tell I'm back in DC? More political posts! Woohoo! Call the neighbors! Anyway...
Back in 1994, when the Republican Revolution wrested control of the House from the Democrats, I -- like many of my friends on the Hill at the time -- was distraught. Well, angry too, but genuinely worried about what that election would mean for our country... and what it said about our voting populace. But one Democratic friend of mine had a sort of calm about him that I felt was almost unnatural. He didn't seem all that bothered by it -- and since most of my other Dem friends were chanting dirges and engaging in funeral marches, I was caught off guard by his reaction. When I asked him how he could be so calm about the transfer of power, he smiled and said, "Chris, the higher the monkey climbs the tree, the more people see his ass."
I laughed about it then and hoped he was right. It took four years for people to see Newt Gingrich's ass, but eventually he left the Congress. It took people 12 years to see Tom DeLay's ass, but that SOB is out of the Congress -- and if there's a God, he'll see DeLay in prison soon. And now, the rest of the Repulican clowns in Congress are showing major moonage.
the latest Associated Press-Ipsos poll found that Americans by an almost 3-to-1 margin hold the GOP-controlled Congress in low regard and profess a desire to see Democrats wrest control after a dozen years of Republican rule.Further complicating the GOP outlook to turn things around is a solid percentage of liberals, moderates and even conservatives who say they'll vote Democratic. The party out of power also holds the edge among persuadable voters, a prospect that doesn't bode well for the Republicans.
I don't put it past this administration to "find" Osama bin Laden just in time for the election, or to cook up some dramatic "code orange" scare to try and use their tired old "terrorism" scare tactic to frighten voters into sticking with them. But I think people have finally begun to get sick of that pretense, and are tired of being manipulated by a fearmongering party with nothing else to offer. And that's reflected in those 3 to 1 poll numbers.
Memo to Nancy Pelosi, Harry Reid, and Howard Dean: If, with odds favoring you like this and with Republicans handing you advantage after advantage and opportunity after opportunity, you still can't manage to win a majority back in Congress in November, I and my fellow Democrats will run your sorry asses out of town on a rail and cordially invite you to perform physically impossible acts upon yourselves. You have no excuses left. So offer a real alternative -- beyond just "we're not Bush/we're not Republicans" -- and win this damn thing.
Posted by Christopher at 10:16 AM | Comments (0)July 15, 2006
The Last 5 Sounds I'd Save
Since Linkmeister called me out for not finishing my last list (and since he's the only one who cares), here's the top five recordings I'd save for posterity.
5. FDR's First Inaugural, 1933 Franklin Roosevelt's courage and guidance carried the United States not only through World War II, but through the greatest economic challenge and one of the biggest political threats to our democracy ever -- the Great Depression. While his leadership and inspiration cannot be summed up in one speech, the phrase from his first inaugural, 'The only thing we have to fear is fear itself" etched itself into the memories of all who lived when he said it -- and served as the rallying cry as America brought itself back from the brink. Listen here.
4. Jack Buck's call of Kirk Gibson's home run, 1988 World Series. And I don't even care one way or the other about the Dodgers... but when Kirk Gibson limped gingerly to the plate in Game 1 of the 1988 World Series in the bottom of the ninth, barely able to walk from hamstring and knee injuries, having told his manager he thought he had one good swing left in him, you had a sense that something miraculous might be about to happen.
But when he actually did it -- the crippled, injured star whose legs would only give him one swing actually hit a game winning home run with that swing (he was so badly hurt that this his only at bat of the World Series) -- the seventy-something dean of US baseball announcers, Jack Buck, said what we all were thinking... "I DON'T BELIEVE WHAT I JUST SAW! I DON'T BELIEVE WHAT I JUST SAW!" -- and his childlike incredulity instantly amplified the legend. This is my all-time favorite baseball call, and to this day I get a lump in my throat and start chuckling like a little boy when I hear it. This clip is everything I love about baseball. Listen here.
3. Martin Luther King, "I Have A Dream, 1963" The most passionate commitment to the ideals of Americanism, and of the courage it takes to find optimism even when reality tells you there is little reason for it, ever uttered. King was one of the greatest orators in not just American history, but in human history -- and this speech is the most beautiful expression of freedom I suspect I will ever hear. Watch it here.
2. Joseph Welch stares down Joseph McCarthy, 1954 From America's greatest expression of freedom to its most courageous and exasperated rebuttal to the right wing forces in our own country that represent that freedom's greatest threat... words and a spirit that we would be especially wise to be remembering today, with McCarthy's heirs Cheney and W occupying the White House and trying to shout down and initimidate not just all opposition, but even all thought that diverges from their own ideology. They say it could never happen here... it almost did in the early 1950s, it is happening today, and what I wish for most of all is for a courageous Joseph Welch in our generation to stand up to the bullying forces of demagoguery. Sadly for me and for America, no Democrat has yet shown this kind of leadership.
Welch's takedown of McCarthy's relentless -- yet warrantless and wholly invented -- gutless and cowardly fearmongering and intimidation via character assassination and personal attacks stands as the most important act of courage in America's post-Colld War history. And we dare not forget it, given the ideologiy and tactics of Dick Cheney and George W Bush.
Let us not assassinate this lad further, Senator. You've done enough. Have you no sense of decency, sir, at long last? Have you left no sense of decency?
Indeed.
And my number one sound I'd save????
1. "Do you believe in Miracles? YES!" The kids. The machine. The contrast. The context. The coach. The run. The hope. The miracle. The call. The joy. The sheer, utter, pure, beautiful, wonderful joy.
There may be other more politically or societally significant recordings, but this is the one that still makes me well up most unabashedly. Al Michaels' legendary call and the joy obvious in his voice -- and the miracle of what 20 college kids from Minnesota and Massachusetts and Wisconsin managed to do during 11 days in February 1980 -- is still my favorite sporting moment ever, and this call is the one I think most worthy of saving. Listen to it here.
Posted by Christopher at 02:16 PM | Comments (1)July 12, 2006
I'll Be DC-ing You
Heading down to my adoptive hometown of Washington DC for the next few days... believe it or not, the government is holding a conference on blogging and its use in promoting democracy, and li'l ol' me is one of the speakers (I continue to be amazed every damn day at the turns of fortune that have come my way just because I started this blog a few years ago... I'm speaking as a featured expert at a government conference on promoting democacy through blogging. Unforkingbelievable.).
I'll be back over the weekend. Until then, keep thinking of 80s tunes, karmic seagulls, Barry Bonds going to jail, and other happiness. Blog atcha soon.
Christopher
Posted by Christopher at 03:35 PM | Comments (2)July 11, 2006
Mudge's Favorite 134 Songs of the 80s, #130 - #126: Same As It Ever Was
As Tim pointed out to me today, I should 'fess up here: if I'd made this list in 1990, there'd be quite a bit on it that I wouldn't dream of putting on there now. While I am trying to stay true to what I liked then, there are some songs and bands I was way into 20 years ago (the bulk of Dokken's catalog, for example) that just flat out doesn't stand up now. For example, back then I thought that Dokken's "In My Dreams" was a brilliant song. I listen to it now and not only does it not hold up, but I question what I had ever been thinking in liking it. So my list in 2006 does not reflect songs I loved then but cannot accept now. Make sense? And now, on with the countdown:
130. Hungry Like The Wolf, Duran Duran The Fab Five's breakout hit, thanks to a groundbreaking video that reached heavy rotation on MTV and featured Indian scenery, a scantily clad woman running around in body paint who kicked Simon LeBon's ass, and faux ecstatic howling at the end worthy of Meg Ryan in a deli. Was the song any good without the video? Who knows... because I defy you to hear the song and not think of the video's visual imagery. They're inseparable by now. God, is it hard to believe that this song will be 25 years old next year.
129. Let's Go All The Way, Sly Fox. I'd almost forgotten how much I once liked this song, until by chance I heard it on the radio the morning after I'd finished my initial list. Harmless electro-pop with a badly chroma-keyed video, Sly Fox were among my favorite one hit wonders of the decade.
128. Once In A Lifetime, Talking Heads This was the first exposure I ever had to Talking Heads, and all I remember thinking was, "these guys are freaking weird, what a spaz that singer is." Which is, as you know if you've seen the video, is what he was aiming for. But that opening... "And you may find yourself..." and the kick-ass bass line... and those bizarre hand gestures.... this one is a classic of the video age.
127. When I See You Smile, Bad English This song is the only one that got me to lift my boycott of all things Diane Warren. John Waite has a great voice (ever hear any of his 70s stuff with the Babys?), and Neil Schon and Jonathan Cain bolted from Journey to join this short-lived "supergroup" of the hair era. As power ballads go, this one has everything you need: three chord chorus, a piano intro to the power chord body, the short but "rocking" guitar solo that was supposed to remind you that these guys could rock if they chose to, and the female-friendly lyrics that revealed the bad-ass rockers as softies underneath who had been tamed by that one special girl. I turned 21 the summer this song came out; much of my fondness for it springs from its effect on the young women of Minnesota; "Smile" was bery, bery good to me. They do lose points, however, for John Waite's hair, which looks just a little too much like mine did (read: too hard to control and not really conducive to that style). Link to video here.
126. Alex Chilton, The Replacements How could a Minnesota boy not throw a bone out to quintessential Minnesota undergound band? If they hadn't been such drunks and addicts, and not so insistent that weren't going to sell out, they could really have become huge, huge domainant stars. One of the best tunes from a band that never got the mainstream attention and success that it deserved. Audio only link here.
Posted by Christopher at 11:24 PM | Comments (1)Karma Apples
Sometimes, karma flies around like a seagull at the beach of life, dropping big white bombs all over the ice cream cones and french fries of the unsuspecting and hapless who are just trying to enjoy a little cosmic sunshine.
For example... I came home from work tonight to find that the afternoon's thunderstorm had invaded my new apartment via the toilet; I don't know where the blockage or backup came from, but I thought something smelled slightly amiss when I walked in... and as I passed the bathroom from the hall, I saw about two inches of standing water in my bathroom, and realized that the carpet outside the room was soaked and squishing beneath my feet. Thankfully, it wasn't pure sewage, just backed up water. But my carpet is destroyed. Basically entering my third week of actually living here, and they're going to have to replace the carpeting. True, this management company did respond within 10 minutes of my alerting them, and made the carpet replacement arrangements within half an hour... so they're actual professionals here as opposed to the boneheads at the old place. But still... what a karmic kick in the mummy/daddy buttons.
Then other times, karma sets into the world like a masked, mysterious comic book hero -- one with a tragic and rarely told past, one with demons that always take it right up to the edge between itself and those criminals it opposes -- seeking out cold-blooded vengeance against those who have wronged the innocent and striking horrific fear into the hearts of the wicked.
For example... Barry Bonds is finally going to be indicted this month for tax evasion and for perjuring himself before a federal grand jury. One step closer to playing in the California Penal League, you sanctimonious, cheating SOB. Or, to use another example... that shrill, screeching, evil harpie Ann Coulter's been nailed for plagiarism. (For those who say "her syndicator dismissed the claims," look at the side by side comparisons of Coulter's "work" and the originals she lifted from. They're word for word. She's been nailed, the evil skanky skeleton bitch. For example:
In “Godless,” Coulter writes:
“The massive Dickey-Lincoln Dam, a $227 million hydroelectric project proposed on upper St. John River in Maine, was halted by the discovery of the Furbish lousewort, a plant previously believed to be extinct.”
An article that ran in 1999 in Maine’s Portland-Press Herald contains the following passage:
“The massive Dickey-Lincoln Dam, a $227 million hydroelectric project proposed on upper St. John River, is halted by the discovery of the Furbish lousewort, a plant believed to be extinct.”)
Yeah, karma's a strange bird at times. But I think Bonds going to jail and Coulter being publicly humiliated and professionally disgraced is enough to offset my flooded toilet and wrecked carpet.
Posted by Christopher at 10:38 PM | Comments (5)Hawk's Revenge: The Next Curmudgeon List
After I posted that god-awful Charlene video, I got the following note from Hawk in the comments to that post:
Since I viewed some of this video last night (I couldn't watch the whole thing), this horrible song is in my head. Please Mudge, make it stop. Maybe posting your favorite 80's video would help heal the damage to my brain from this song.
Hawk. Hawk, Hawk, Hawk. You really should have known better. Never get me thinking about the next set of lists I might come up with. Especially since I never even finished my last one (not that anyone except for Linkmeister would have noticed). Now you've gone and done it; you've made me come up with the Lollapalooza Mack Daddy of all Curmudgeon's lists that have ever come before... Ladies and Gentleman, you have Hawk to blame for this... over the couse of July, I present to you: Curmudgeon's "Favorite 134 Songs Of The 80s."
Why 134, you ask? Well, it's partially because after I'd assembled my initial list of about 200 songs, and then narrowed the list down to around 140, it was damn near impossible to cut much more. Also, it's partly from a desire to be different. After all, who does a Top 134 List? (As a friend told me late this evening in IM conversation way too late in the evening, "You do!") So 134 it is. I defy you to find any other Top 134 lists out there anywhere; like Natalie Portman's character in Garden State, I've just done something completely original that no one else has ever seen before.
A few ground rules... First of all, while I was listening to a bit of country back then too, and have since come to appreciate blues as well (I could have filled half this list with Stevie Ray Vaughan songs, for example), I have not included those genres in this list. We're strictly pop and rock here.
Two... I am not claiming that this is a list of the 134 best songs of the decade. They're my favorites. Not only are some of them not great, but some of them are downright awful. I know this. I don't care; I like them anyway. This is my list of my 134 favorite songs of the 80s -- the decade I came of age in, learned to drive in, first had sex in, got my first job in, graduated high school and started college in... the decade of my youth. As a child of the 80s, I believe that I am somewhat qualified to pass judgement on its music. However, I am not exclusively qualified; there are many others out there. You may be one of them. And the odds are that you will disagree with me on some or many of these. You may never have heard of a couple of them, they're so obscure. You may think some of them utterly suck. I don't care. Make your own list. This one's mine.
Third... you will notice that this list is quite, um, homogenous; it's largely whiter than a Republican Party meeting. This is because a) while I like some rap, you must remember that I grew up in a lilywhite exurb in a largely Scandanavian state; you must realize that outside of Blondie's "Rapture," we didn't hear much rap until WIll Smith did "Parents Just Don't Understand." and b) my enjoyment of blues, Motown, funk, and some rap aside, I must confess that I am not now and have never been a fan of traditional R&B, especially the brand popular in the past 25 years or so. So I admit that I may be missing some classics and that my list is culturally limited. I freely admit this without reservation or shame. LIke I said before, your list -- based on your life experiences and cultural background -- is likely different. It takes all kinds and different strokes and all that. Our lists are all good.
And finally, just a note; while the early part of the list -- in the 100s -- is weighted toward new wave, I admit that as the numbers get lower, the songs slant decidedly in the direction of hair. As I have said before, I was a child of the decade. Hair bands and power ballads were in. I sang in a band back then. I looked the part. And my memories and muscial appreciation of the decade reflect my then-view of music. So I am warning you now, this list is laden with AquaNet and coarses metal in its veins. If you will have issue with this, just put the blog down now and step away, and no one gets hurt.
So blame Hawk, kids, for the journey I am going to take you on for much of the rest month. And as a famous man once said, "Now, on with the countdown."
Posted by Christopher at 01:51 AM | Comments (6)Mudge's Favorite 134 Songs of the 80s: The List Begins
Starting off with a video classic...
134. Legs, ZZ Top I admit it; this song is on the list because of the video. Namely, because the 80s' hottest video vixen, IMHO, stars in this video. No, not the Eliminator girls... the girl who gets transformed from wallflower to showstopper through the magic of the ZZ keychain. (And yes, I had one such keychain in high school; there was a kid who made extra cash by making them in metals shop and then selling them for $10 a pop to all of us MTV-fad crazed crazy kids.) This woman was my 80s version of female perfection, or close to it. And the ZZ imagery -- the beards, the funky keychain, the car, the whirling fuzzy guitars, the oddly placed hand gestures and wiggly heads -- is pure early MTV.
133. She's A Beauty, The Tubes Early 80s, mix of new wave and circus performance, this song by San Francisco's legendarily bawdy Tubes was their only top 40 hit. It sort of falls into the 'classic rock' genre today. Link to the video is here.
132. Tonight It's You, Cheap Trick Underappreciated by the mainstream for most of their careers, but certainly respected and venerated among most of the musicians I've known, Cheap Trick's songs for most of the decade never caught the public's attention... they were for most people just 'that stuff they did between "I Want You To Want Me" and "The Flame." But Rick, Robin, Bun E. and Tom did some good stuff in those nine years -- including this rocking power ballad. And that chorus: "All I need is someone to love, and tonight it's you." So romantic; kinda gets you right here, doesn't it? Link to video of a lip-synched performance with bad audio is here.
131. Holy Diver, Dio Gotta love the foreboding imagery at the beginning of the video and the demonic hints throughout -- not to mention the Conan the Barbarian feeling overall. You think Ronnie was courting the "scare the hell out of your parents" crowd? Also, imagine the chortling glee of a bunch of 15 year old boys being able to fashion themselves as "Holy Divers." (Insert "Hole E. Diver" double entendre here.) Link to the incredibly 80s cliche video here.
Posted by Christopher at 01:44 AM | Comments (2)July 10, 2006
My Old Man Is A Television Repairman, He's Got This Ultimate Set Of Tools. I Can Fix It.
One of the hazards of driving back and forth between New York and southern Delaware is that you have to actually share the road, so there's lots of other cars heading to the beach or back while you're driving. Some of them are driven by normal people; others are driven by complete chuckleheads; and still others are driven by people who are usually normal but are capable of the occasional chuckleheaded manuver. It's that last set you really have to watch out for. The full-time chuckleheads are easy enough to avoid and wish painful, fiery intestinal conditions upon; it's the part-timers who catch you off guard.
In Delaware on Highway 1 on the way home, I got rear-ended by a kid who looked like he hadn't yet been born when I graduated from high school. Traffic was stop and start due to a red light a good quarter mile up the highway; it was very easy to think traffic was moving again, when all of a sudden everyone would just stop for some reason. Only this time the kid didn't stop, and plunked into the back of my car. (As he and I exchanged information, he was despondent and said he was having a very bad day; he'd gotten a ticket not more than an hour before our little encounter. Yay.)
Everything with the car is fine; my bumper's scratched a little but seems to have come out no worse for wear. And I figured all's well that ends well; it was a minor incident, my car seemed unhurt, I seemed unhurt, and the kid seemed nice enough... I've been prepared to just let it go. The thing is, starting a few hours after the incident, my back started really bugging me, to the point where I didn't sleep much last night because of back discomfort.
There's nothing worse than the accident milker, in my book. (Well okay, social conservatives ae worse in my book, but this isn't a political post.) I keep thinking of Uncle Fester's guest shot on The Brady Bunch as the guy who exaggerates a neck problem after a minor dust-up with Carol. And you know, this was a minor bump, he couldn't have been going more than 10-15 mph, and my car isn't even dented, just scratched. I certainly don't want to make problems for the kid, who was sufficiently deferential, apologetic, and just plain bummed out when we talked afterward that he delfated any annoyance I might have had. (I kept thinking of "Fast Times At RIdgemont High," when Spicoli and the other kid get into an accident with Forrest Whitaker's car... I half expected him to come out saying, "My brother's gonna kill us! My brother's gonna s*it!") Frankly, I was 18 once too and would have hated to have some self-important buffoon yapping at me over something I already felt awful about anyway. No blood, no foul -- right?
So my every inclination is to dismiss this whole thing and write off the back pain to psychosomatia. Except for that I hurt, bad enough to not sleep well last night. But -- how could I mess up my back from a minor fender bender that barely nicked my car? That hardly seems possible, especially given that it's my lower back and not really my neck that bugs me. I can't have injured myself in a love tap-style bump, could I?
Hopefully it goes away soon enough and the point becomes moot. Anyway, I'm home and in one and a half pieces, and now it's back to the grind. Hope everyone had a great 4th of July holiday.
Posted by Christopher at 06:26 AM | Comments (8) | TrackBackJuly 09, 2006
Using One's Head
Zinadine Zidane... you now go down in history with Woody Hayes and the coach of the team playing against the Bad News Bears as one of the worst sports in history. How's it feel to know that you trashed your decade-long legacy in one fell, petulent swoop? To know that your life's accomplishments have been reduced to a temper tantrum?
Chuckle-headed idiot.
Posted by Christopher at 10:39 PM | Comments (1)