'Of One Kind and Another’

Note: I should have posted this before now, as the album has been out quite a while.

From the first time I saw test footage and creature designs from ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ a few years ago, I was pretty skeptical with regard to its child friendliness. With its release, by all accounts it is a movie for adults about being a child, rather than an adventure movie for children. I think the soundtrack will be different things to different people, an album for kids that will remind them that sometimes it’s ok to be lonely, a reminder to adults of what being a kid is like: in other words, a companion to or audio version of the film.

The album starts out with a clip from the film, an exchange between Max and his mother, with her answering his greeting by saying ‘I could use a story’. This choice by (lead musician here) Karen O. is an excellent one as it sets up the role reversal we’ll be experience through the rest of the record, Max telling us of his adventures in the land of the Wild Things, while we metaphorically sit at his bedside.

The album has gotten a lot of press, being an indie rock, dream-team braingasm. Besides Yeah Yeah Yeah’s front woman Karen O. the group includes other members of the YYY’s, Bradford Cox from Deerhunter, Aaron Hemphill of the Liars, The Raconteurs’ Jack Lawrence and Dean Fertita of the Dead Weather, not to mention a children’s choir providing backup and general noise. Because of this, we’re give a dream infused, sometimes cheery, often bittersweet soundscape to navigate. The tracks are each named for scenes in the movie (and the book, which I’m more familiar with, not having made it to the theatre at this writing). The initial track, ‘Igloo’, apart from the the audio clip I’ve mentioned, is an excellent intro, starting with simple humming, slowly adding instruments and leading almost directly into the second, raucous first single, ‘All is Love’. ‘Love’ starts off with a quiet moment, as if finishing the tapered end of ‘Igloo’ before blasting off with a yell of “1, 2, Ready, Go!” and launching in earnest. We’re given our first real taste of the children’s choir on this track, them yelling along with O’s more melodic vocals, driven by simple, fun lyrics.

This yelling lends itself on several tracks, be it the Wild Things’ own at the beginning of ‘Rumpus’ or the orgiastic groaning and screaming on ‘Animal’, which starts with Forrest Whittaker’s dangerous threatening of Max and dissolves into cacophony by the end, a miss that in this case takes one out of the musical thread.

Misses are rare on this album though. The reprise of ‘All is Love’ focuses more on the children’s choir, which somehow turns it into a wistful, shorter reflection of the original. The story is ending. Max is preparing to return home. This feeling intensifies on ‘Food is still hot’, the last scene of the book and our penultimate track here. The song, with O’s understated humming again in place of lyrics, is warm and comforting, a musical hug that leads into the final track, ‘Sailing Home’, an upbeat, onomatopoeiatic number that I can only imagine plays over the end credits.

I’ve only scratched a few of the songs here, passing by the dreamy cover of Daniel Johnston’s ‘Worried Shoes’ or clap-along numbers like ‘Heads Up’. The album is an interesting experience, a smattering of happy tracks interspersed with notes of melancholy that hide just below the surface. You’ll find yourself listening to it again and again, a favorite story book to be returned to.

Score: 4/5

Promoting

I took the first step today in going back to school. The problem is that I don't know where to go, what to do...should I go back to MSU for a second degree? Should I move on to grad school in the degree I have? I think the problem there is that I already feel pretty unsuccessful with that degree. I write a lot, but nothing gets picked up when I send it out.

I am sending out two more submissions today, both poetry. I've taken to paging through the back of writers' magazines looking for contests and then submitting stuff generally. The contests usually cost too much and I worry that I'm so untested that I likely wouldn't have a chance. So two envelopes are on their way out to Black Warrior Review and Inkwell today.

I'm going to run some errands though. Maybe update this again later.

Bevels

So doing a little side research on swine flu symptoms versus regular flu symptoms, I could have either. Granted, the flu test came back negative, but the Doc still diagnosed me: flu. So I am miserable and am writing this in a bit of a haze. As weird as it is to say, I'm having trouble coordinating something as simple as typing, which I normally have no trouble with. I've probably made ten typos already, this first paragraph. This will be a short entry.

Been kind of stuck at home, this illness throwing everything off. Tonight, we're having the Graveyard Book party at work, a filmed party in an attempt to get Neil Gaiman to do a signing at our store. Unfortunately for me, I won't be working it, which I was really looking forward to. Instead I get to sit at home and be miserable. At least AMC is running their horror movie marathon, so I can watch bad movies.

And read bad literature as well. I suppose I shouldn't admit this, but over the last week, I've read five 'Resident Evil' novels. These are not good literature. They are pure entertaining schlock, and in four cases, are just novelizations of video games I've played before. But I found myself devouring them, and lately I've had trouble reading anything that can truly be called 'literature'. My co-workers all talk about these great novels they've read, or discuss non-fiction books on human sexuality or politics, and I just read stupid fantasy or science fiction. I try other things, but most times I just go back to the dumb stuff.

I hope it's just a phase. I've read other things in the past. Maybe I just needed a break.

I'm going to go make some dinner.

A dumb idea

So I decided to start a dumb experiment over on Twitter today. I am going to write a horror story through posts on my screenname. Maybe one a day. Maybe more than one. Either way, they will be tagged #corners.

My twitter screenname is deadletterboy. I do not promise this will be good. But it may be fun.

'Wet your pants over it.'

This quote is going to be all over the internet today, but I felt obliged to share it anyway. From his Newsweek interview, Maurice Sendak:

What do you say to parents who think the Wild Things film may be too scary?
Sendak: I would tell them to go to hell. That's a question I will not tolerate.

Brilliant.

There were several of them, all of them from Nantucket

May I start off today's entry with a public service announcement? Please, folks who go to my, or any, gym. Those towelettes that are sitting around? Those really aren't just a suggestion. You are hairy. Or fat. Or both. Or neither. In any case, you still sweat. Sweat stinks. Sweat is also gross. Bottom line: clean up your fucking sweat, I don't want to sit in it.
Thank you.

I write not infrequently about the gym, I know, but I don't think I'm one of those people who brags about their physique or how in shape they are. Oftentimes, I sit down on facebook, and those posts scroll up, and I tend to think how absolutely asinine or self-absorbed they are. So I apologize if I come off that way. I've just found that exercise is good for me. It keeps me in an excellent mood, my spirits up, and my brain on fire. All of the things, in other words, that I've been lacking lately.

I finished up 'And Another Thing..' by Eoin Colfer on Sunday. Very well done, and while it's place in the 'Hitchhiker's' universe will probably be debated until we're all sitting in Milliway's, I've decided that it is indeed, as far as I'm concerned, canonical. There were aspects I was disappointed with, characters who didn't return and plot lines I wanted to see developed further, but at the same time, I'm happy; this wasn't Douglas Adams, but Colfer acknowledged that, and by doing so, wrote something that Adams would have been pleased with, I think. I'll write a full review at a later date, but for now, reading this and re-reading the originals, I had a thought.

E-Readers are not generally something I consider a good idea. I love the feel of a book in my hands, the weight, the sound it makes as I turn the page. Hell, even the cheap glue and pulpy odor of mass-markets is something I enjoy. But there is one way I would buy an e-reader. Some company will have to produce one that is simple, black and has in brightly colored lettering on the cover, 'Don't Panic.'

Hear that tech-execs? Make me 'The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy' and I will buy your product.

Goodnight.

"I'm digging the way you shake in those leather pants."

This was a strange day.

Being employed at an independent bookshop, I've been watching Amazon and Wal-Mart's little meltdowns with interest. But really, I'm not too worried. I know it seems like I should be watching out for my job, and I am, I really am, but Amazon and Wal-Mart have been around a long time. There is a market for cheap books and other things delivered quickly, immediately almost.

There is also a market for people.

The reason that people come into a hometown store like ours (I'll get off my soapbox in a moment, promise) is that they're fairly guaranteed an interaction with a real human being. Someone who has specialization in an area of literature, and if they don't, can find someone who will help them. Granted, there are days I don't want to deal with the customers (today, for example, being called jellybean by a customer? Something I never wanted to happen.) but at the same time, we're people and I think customers get that. So Wal-Mart and Amazon can fight to have the lowest prices. Indie, small town places will just have to settle for having the best service.

So tonight, I'm sitting around watching crappy television, eating popcorn, listening to music and chatting with friends. It kind of hit me though. Supposedly, as humans, we only use 15% or so of our brains. Are we really using it the best way? Is me sitting here watching Family Guy, an episode I've seen 22 times before, the best use of my time? I think the answer is a resounding no.

So what I've decided to do, for a couple of weeks at least as an experiment, is make better use of my brain. Get the sleep that is recommended for my age group. Get up on time without hitting the snooze. Play guitar and write instead of cartoons. Read more.

Interesting experiment to try at least.

Finally, as a runner, my best wishes go out to the families of the three marathoners that died in Detroit this weekend. I'm very sorry for their loss.

Fire once: Another short writing exercise, since I can't bloody focus

'Get the fuck out', she screamed, the bottle breaking as I backed out of the kitchen.

I didn't understand, collapsing in the hallway, carpeted steps behind my lower back. I had done just what she wanted. I mean, hadn't she said she wanted to see her dad again? I dialed.

'Yeah, Jeff? You rented that front loader for the whole week didn't you?'

Tensile: A Very Short Story

The morning when I woke up with broken legs was cold outside. I was in bed. The door into the hallway was locked, but my phone had died during the night. I laid there.

So in answer to your question, sir, that's why I can't walk over to get you your book from the layaway counter.

He's a Deader

I like that set of words up there. I want to use it in a story. I'm not sure how I would, but I think it sounds like something a toddler would say about a ghost or zombie.

It's probably been used before though.

Significantly Reduced

My agoraphobia is acting up a bit today. I think that's a fairly reasonable result to feeling threatened, yeah? Anyway, a continuation of yesterday's entry, I suppose.

My love affair with Tsunami Bomb came to a head in the summer of 2003, I believe, when I saw them perform at Warped Tour. My friend Rini, who had a press pass, was able to get me some amazing photos, on a disposable camera of all things. I cannot find those right now, but this photo of me and Agent M is still pretty rad.

The story that goes with it is a bit embarrassing. I managed to say some really creepy stuff but she was still cool about it and posed for a photo with me. I feel pretty lame about it, even now, to say the least. They signed a wrist band for me too, that had been sent from them when I ordered a shirt, years ago.


I look like a little kid there, don't I?

In any case, not long after that, the band broke up. I'm still following M's new band, The Action Design and I'm enjoying what I've heard thus far. Hopefully, she'll continue to make rad music.

As for Obama winning the Nobel Peace Prize, well, I've gotta say, I think he handled it well in his speech. You could tell that he was embarrassed and felt that he was getting it more for what they hoped he was going to accomplish, rather than what he had, but he was humble, downplayed his accomplishments thus far, and avoided insulting the committee, which would likely have happened had he refused the award. But I think we can all agree it was a silly move on their part and shouldn't have happened this early in his presidency.

For now though, I'm still feeling stressed and jittery. I'm going to get a cup of tea and lie down.
Later.

And with that...

On to more serious things than that last post, as it was mostly just a posting of something I wrote a long time ago.

There is a lot of new music dropping lately. Over the last few weeks, I've given in and bought some new albums. I might do some reviewing here, but as it's something that I'm trying to make a career out of, I'll likely be submitting everything elsewhere first. But here's what I've bought recently and am thoroughly digging on:
Karen O and the Kids - Where the Wild Things Are OST
The Swellers - Ups and Downsizing
The Mountain Goats - Life of the World to Come
There is some other stuff coming out in the next few months that I'm intrigued by, most significantly a new Trans-Siberian Orchestra album. Most people hear that and think of the Christmas music that will be pounded into their skulls for the next few months, but the band has also done a non-Christmas album called 'Beethoven's last Night'. It's a rock opera dealing with Beethoven, the Devil, and a lost Symphony. I'd much rather see that than their current live show (though said live show is indeed tits). But their new album, entitled Night Castle, also sounds like a non-Christmaser to me. So we'll see.

The cats are driving me a little insane today. Currently, Cheshire is in a box, beating the hell out of his sisters tail, which is hanging over the box. Insane. Me being driven it.

Today really is a blast from the past. I decided earlier that I wanted chips. Yes. I know, exciting right? Well, getting said chips required me to put clothing on because most shops frown on be-underweared men walking in the door (there are exceptions to this rule, but I think they're mostly in Europe.) So going through my closet, I found an old dingy grey workshirt hanging in the back. And I remembered how awesome this shirt was when I turned it around.

It had the Tsunami Bomb logo on the back.

Tsunami Bomb still holds the titles of one of my favorite bands of all time, and I think this is mainly because of their vocalist. In my formative years as a young punk, I heard a song on the 2001 Warped Tour Compilation called 'Take the Reins'. The woman's voice singing the song held me and I knew that she had to be as gorgeous as her voice. Not the brightest little thing, me, but I was right in this case. Agent M, as she was known, was just as awesome as her voice. And Tsunami Bomb came to be one of my favorite bands.

Well, I just realized that it's 7 pm and I haven't eaten anything all day, so I'll continue the story of your hero (that's me, for those of you just joining us) and Tsunami Bomb, tomorrow. Until then, watch this video. It's important. And has nothing to do with the rest of this entry.

Birth of a Climate Crock

Pretty messed up place we live in where liars like Beck and Hannity are the inspiration to millions.

Fables

So I came across an old story I wrote a while ago. I'm not sure what I was basing it on, but it certainly reads like so many fairy tales and could easily be one. I think it was just a fun exercise that I did in an afternoon. So here we go. I apologize in advance for poor punctuation.

The Beast and the Tree of Life

Once, in an unnamed place, there lived a great beast. The beast was known by no other name than that and it was feared. The people were afraid of it not for its ferocity, for it had none, or for its anger, for it had little of that as well. No, the reason that these people feared the great beast was for its gaze. Now this is not to say that it could turn people to stone, as Medusa or Catoblepas could, or could kill, as a basilisk, but the effects were just as deadly. The beast, when it turned its baleful eyes upon one, caused that person to gaze deep into their innermost soul and reflect upon who they were. This often had the effect of driving even the hardest of men mad, for such things are not meant to be seen.

The forest in which the beast lived was often said to be Eden itself for there was a huge tree growing in the middle, called the tree of life. The beast was the guardian of this and kept all travelers at bay, for it was said that whoever climbed the tree of life and actually made it to the apex, touching the flower that grew there, lived forever. All around the base of the tree sat people, transfixed in the examination of their own souls, and often gibbering in a horrible fashion.

One day a new traveler entered the clearing of the tree of life. He was fairly nondescript, as such people go, having only one small sack slung over his shoulder and a hat pulled low over his face. As he was standing there, the miserable beast came over to confront him.

"Dost thou desire to climb the tree of life?"

The traveler gave no answer but only stared at the ground in front of the beast. This only made the creature curious. He reached out one of his gnarled limbs and shook the mans arm and repeated his question.

Once more the man, simply stood there, though now he had a small grin upon his face. This only served to further perplex the beast. He grew more adamant, repeating the question over and over again. As the man still did not answer, the beast finally lost his temper. He threw the man to the ground. As he did this, the man reached out and caught a blossom that was drifting through the air. With a start, the beast realized that it was the blossom from the top of the tree of life. He quickly looked up at the tree, only to see another young man waving from the top. The first traveller stood up and dusted himself off. Finally, he spoke to the beast.

"You could easily have stopped us. You are so absorbed in causing others to look into themselves that you do not focus on any other thing. By ignoring you, and your attempts to make me gaze into my soul, I was successful in distracting you from my compatriot, and now he has gained eternal life for us both. Perhaps it is you, dear creature, who should look within himself."

With these words, the young man and his companion, who had since gained the ground walked out of the clearing, leaving behind the tree, the seekers lost in their madness, and a beast who was beginning to see what he truly was, nothing more than a hollow mirror.


Reading over that, I'm almost positive I was writing a fable. I think maybe I'll work on more of these. What do you think? Anymore fables are kind of a discounted story form. They are the simplest stories, with two dimensional characters and an easy moral. But I remember this one being a hell of a lot of fun to write. So here we go. I'm going to start coming up with some new short fairy tales. I'll post some here as I go along.

Art and Love and Death

I felt that it was time to do good on my promise and upload some drawings and doodles. Some of it is done in pencil, so isn't too clear. Take it under advisement that a lot of this is not very good and I'm aware of that. Also, that I delete asinine and hateful comments.

So that little guy off to the left. He's cute. And anatomically correct. I know this. You don't have to point out his dangly bits. Though you can if you want to. It's sort of funny.

But the drawing, it's called 'Thirsty'. Get it? Cause he doesn't have any arms! HA! I kill me!

This one was drawn on the back of a paper bag at work. With a pen and florescent lighting and a lot of boredom. So it's not that great. And I'm well aware. So really, pointing out that I have a severed thumb hanging out next to a guy with a wheel of many paths over his eye above a robot powered by steam, really isn't that big a surprise to me.
But yes, this drawing is mostly terrible, though I kinda like the robot.

Woo more nudity. This time a piece that I called for some reason, 'The Metamorphic Drowning of Victoria Lee'. Pretty neat I guess. I promise this will be the last time you see naughty bits (in this entry).

A somehow Shel Silversteiny piece from the same series of sketches as 'Thirsty'. This one is called 'Excuse me?' I'm weird.

So this isn't too clear, but it is a weird fat, somewhat Lovecraftian monster. I like it. And while it does have breasts, I'm pretty sure it's male, therefore making them non-naughty bits.

I think that's all for tonight. I'm going to start drawing more, so maybe there will be more art posted here soon. I am considering starting a webcomic. So we'll see.