Epic Mail

all the ladies say HOOOO

2010-04-19T20:16:00.007-04:00

I'm bringing this blog out of hibernation solely to record the following prediction -- Big Boi's Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty will be the album of the summer, if not the year. It comes out on July 6th and it will definitely be the biggest rap album since The Carter III (at least amongst the, um, Pitchfork set).

Check out "Fo Yo Sorrows," which features totally schizophrenic and amazing guest appearances from George Clinton AND Too $hort, plus some dude with way too long dreads.

Big Boi - Fo Yo Sorrows VIDEO ft.Too Short,George Clinton,SamChris from SNORTTHIS.COM on Vimeo.

Maybe even better is "Shine Blockas," which starts out with Big Boi freestyling in a Georgia Wal Mart while buying footies and video games. A currently incarcerated Gucci Mane only makes an appearance in the video in the form of several black and white jpegs.

Both videos are gorgeously shot -- in a rap-video-in-HD kind of way.

FREE GUCCI

ZOOPS Cafe MENU

2009-12-22T16:59:00.004-05:00

MENU

ZOOPS Cafe: A Friends' Place

Entrees

Double Cheeser

Macaroni Puzzlers

DURKL™ Melt

Phantom of the Slopra

Breakfast

Flap Attacks

Jo-Jo Puffs

Sme Flakes

Eggs Gibraltar

Bacon Blades

Appetizers

Ketchup Pop-offs

Lice Cakes

Pep-pep's Pepper Poppers

Dessert

Canadian Turnover

My Bloody Blueberry Pie

Brownie Bubbles

Caramelized Glazers

Chef's Specials

Cambridge Noodler

Skipper Bits

Sides

Hungry Hungry Pickles

Potato Blackouts

Uncle Tom's French Fries

Salted Tony

Cat Butter (.75 extra on all dishes)

Drinks

Jeremy Juice

Freight Shake (chocolate, vanilla, or boysenberry)

Admiral's Coffee (with cat butter creamers)

Diet Boke

Kid's Menu

Chicken Dingers

Pizza Sticklers

Fungos™

Tiny Tim's Taco Nibblers

Bugle Blasters (with an herb cat butter spread)

Soup and Salad

Zoop Soup (our secret family recipe)

Cream of Crop Soup

Shep Salad

Burnt Cheese Salad

Epic Lexicon: The Top 7 Words of 2009

2009-12-15T22:10:00.019-05:00

Rejoice, Epic Mailians; 2009 has been a good year. By what metric, you ask? Obviously, we should judge the success of years by the amount of nonsensical references and catchphrases they produce. "But my grandmother died/my car broke down/I failed out of clown college!" Shut your turkey hole, Whiney Tim, it IS a good year because now you have some funny words. Even though they all originated as incredibly arbitrary inside references, I expect these words to pass into the Mailian vernacular. From the mess to the masses.

The Top 7 Words of 2009

7. Surprise Hotel

Astute readers will recognize this phrase from OKAYYYYGUYS's Top 25 Tracks of 2009 list, as it's the title of an excellent Fool's Gold track. Since discovering the song, OKAYYYYGUYS and I have been obsessing over the concept of a surprise hotel, and considering the ways in which someone might conceivably "surprise hoteled." As a catchphrase, though, it only involves yelling "SURPRISE, IT'S A _____" (insert relevant word).

"Dr. Eble, my tooth has really been hurting recently. What's the problem?"

"SURPRISE, IT'S A ROOT CANAL!"

6. OOPS

Not to be mistaken with it's generic cousin, "oops," OOPS must be uttered with a guttural, flamboyant emphasis, preferably accompanied by skyward-facing palms, and following some sort of faux pas or slip up. In the rare instance that OOPS doesn't absolve you of your transgression, it at least gives everyone a good chuckle.

"Dude, did you hook up with my girlfriend?"

"OOOOOOPS"

5. DURKL ©

Yes, that's right, it's everyone's favorite up and coming clothing brand, stitched together right here in Washington, D.C. The clothing itself would be entirely forgettable nu-party-glo-bro wear if DURKL wasn't such a memorably ugly name. As such, DURKL is used in a wider context as a general mark of disdain -- hilarious word, hilarious connotations, a giant ball of irony.

http://durkl.com/

"Wait, do you know this DJ?"

"Yeah, it's DURKL."

4. Brochan

Since we already have a plethora of ways to call one another bro, I remain a firm skeptic when faced with new attempts to crack the genre. But a tip of the hat to my friend Salar who introduced me to my new favorite -- Brochan. There's not any deeper meaning, no abbreviation, no back story that I can establish. Just a simple word, on a simple mission. To address a bro, and to be awesome.

"What are you cooking up, brochan?"

"BROCHAN MADE A PIZZA!"

3. Hackbox (+ Additional Uses of -box Suffix)

Despite its many flaws, you certainly get to meet interesting people on Xbox Live. And OKKAAAYYYGUYS and I met one such person this year during an intense Call of Duty match. He was good -- almost too good, to the point that we suspected him of cheating. And then we saw his name: xxHACKBOXxx, in all of its glory. From this point on, hackboxing became synonymous with cheating, hacking, or manipulating a person, thing, or situation. Though hacking has distinctly digital origins, hackboxing can apply to any object. For example, if you get locked out of your house but use a credit card to get in the backdoor, one might say you "hackboxed" it. The -box suffix can also be attached to any other word to add emphasis without actually saying anything of substance (e.g. mackbox, Keatsbox, computerbox, Davebox, etc...).

Bonus points for my ability to convince a stranger in New York to use the word correctly without explanation:

[Having propped a door open with a sweater] "Oh hey guys, after you go in there, can you just hackbox the door with that sweater? I hackboxed it so that we could get back in."

The bro gave me a brief, puzzled look, until he replied timidly, "Oh, yeah, I'll hackbox it."

2. hoooooOOOOOOhhhOOOOohhh

I realize that it's just about impossible to convey the correct tone through text, but I did my best. This particular "ho" (shortened for ease of typing) is differentiated from a standard greeting "ho" by its higher pitched tones, a longer sustain, and heightened wavering, combining to produce an almost ghost-like howl. This word is useful as a humorous greeting, or as a way to fill silence in an awkward or unfortunate moment (similar to the alternate use of "hey guys", e.g. "Sometimes I just get so frustrated that I want to strangle my mom's cat." "Hey guyssss.....").

::Ring, Ring::

"Hello?"

"hhhOOOOoohhoOOOOHhh"

1. Zoop (+ Derivatives)

I present to you the most important word of the year: zoop. I realize that it doesn't look like much, but it holds this spot for a number of reasons -- elegance, utility, and infectiousness, among others. Zoop's primary meaning is "to go, usually in a speedy manner." For example, "Hey, I think we're going to zoop over to the store." Zoop can also mean "to take." "Would you mind if I zooped some of that lasagna?" Zoop can also mean "have sexual intercourse with." "You've been dating Tandice for a while, have you zooped her yet?" But these uses are merely scratching the surface; zoop's true strength lies in its sheer utility and ease of comprehension. You can replace just about any verb with zoop, and even the most untrained ear will be able to pick up its meaning through contextual clues.

Zoop has also spawned a set of derivative words:

-Zyup

-Znope

-Zokay

-ZOOPS

Unlike zoop, which has a plethora of meanings, each of these words merely replaces its sans-z counterpart, though in a stylish manner. Something about that extra Z just flings these words across your tongue -- faster, sleeker, futuristic. Laugh if you must, but once you begin to use them, it gets under your skin, and it won't be long until you find yourself uttering "Zyup" inadvertently in a board meeting.

I believe we have a visceral connection with zoop, as if we were born to say it, but have yet to fulfill our destiny on a mass scale. I've seen the light. We've seen the light. It's time to zoop into a new year. It's been a long December, and there's reason to believe that this year will zoop the shit out of the last.

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

-Nobunny

-Chillwave

-Skipboat

-Scuzz

-Mugdown

-Wallet

2009 IN LISTS: A LIST

2009-12-15T13:29:00.003-05:00

See what I did there? What follows is a list of the top 10 most entertaining lists published this year!

10. Videogum.com: The Best Viral Videos of 2009. You could've put yourself in a coma machine and this is all you would need to understand the internet in 2009. Very essential.

9. Buzzfeed.com: The 50 Funniest Headlines of 2009. For the cranky old Jay Leno set.

8. This guys knows how to party -- and now you will too!

7. Stereogum.com: 69 Most Anticipated Albums of 2010. Ok, this is mostly just confusing indie hype gobbledigook. But damn if I'm not excited for that Yeasayer album.

6. Rolling Stone's 100 Best Albums of the 2000's. If you are one of the following people, you did pretty well this decade: Kanye West, Bruce Springsteen, Bob Dylan, Jay-Z, Thom Yorke/Jonny Greenwood, Jack/Meg White.

5. Yepyep: Best Keyboard Cat Videos of 2009. Play me off.

4. NYTimes 10 Best Books of 2009. I may not have read any of these books, but this article is good stuff. Erudition people! It's the way of the future.

3. Gizmodo.com: 40 Gadgets Changed Irrevocably by One Letter. Sometimes all a pun needs is some clever photoshopping and you transform low comedy to high. Or something like that.

2. Boston Globe's Big Picture. The quality of print journalism in this country may be going down the crapper, but photojournalism's still got it!

1. Pitchfork.com P2K Decade in Music. OK, OK, I know, Pitchfork is played out, blah blah, typical passe indie fad, whatever. I don't care if it is. This was one of, if not the most entertaining thing I read on the internet this year. P4k's album reviews are still the best written, if not the most helpful (and lord knows with so much good music out there, we need a lot help). They may jump the shark sooner rather than later, but for my money the good people at this publication did a better job curating the decade in music than any other. And besides, this list is the 2009 ultimate argument starter in my book. I love talking about this stuff, even if I disagree with it heartily. I even wrote a lengthy blog post somewhere else about my choice (sorry, shameless plug). Let's face it, if we are capping off our evening with a sixer of PBR and an argument about Radiohead vs. Daft Punk, this is a good evening and damned if we didn't wish that all evenings ended this way.

2009 IN POPULAR SONG: A LIST

2009-12-12T16:44:00.003-05:00

As promised, here is the first in (I hope) many end-of-year lists. This list of killer tracks is certainly not intended to be comprehensive. In fact, it's more a list of the best in two or three relatively minor genres that I know are somewhat distasteful to more than one of my fellow Epic Mailers. But in any case, this stuff is sweet, even if it makes me look, somewhat surprisingly, like a total pothead.

25. Black Lips - Starting Over

24. Box Elders - Stay

23. Weed Diamond - Let's Burn One Down

22. Vega - Well Known Pleasures

21. Julian Casablancas - 11th Dimension

20. The Mantles - Don't Lie

19. Holiday Shores - Phones Don't Feud

18. Lovvers - OCD Go Go Girls

17. The Drums - I Felt Stupid

16. Fool's Gold - Surprise Hotel

15. No Age - Losing Feeling

14. Pearl Harbor - Luv Goon

13. Memory Cassette - Asleep at a Party

12. Real Estate - Fake Blues

11. Toro Y Moi - Talamak

10. Surfer Blood - Swim

9. Wild Nothing - Summer Holiday

8. Washed Out - Feel It All Around

7. Tim & Jean - Come Around

6. Small Black - Despicable Dogs

5. Pains of Being Pure at Heart - Higher than the Stars

Just when this band began driving me absolutely nuts by writing the same exact variation on MBV's "Paint a Rainbow" for the 47th time, they hit you with the synth attack. Now that the early 90's Creation well has run dry, they've decided to get all Sarah Records, which has to be sufficient for another full length. I hope Teenbeat is next.

4. Neon Indian - Deadbeat Summer

LAID. BACK. This guy has been cranking out some of the smoothest song titles all year ("Terminally Chill"?!??), and I'm not sure any song all year has me so torn between a compulsion to dance and an urge to recline massively in some kind of sweet hammock setup.

3. Best Coast - Sun Was High (So Was I)

What does marijuana sound like? Apparently, it sounds like a girl who sounds like a dude singing into one of those Fisher Price tape recorders. Which I apparently like. A lot.

2. Japandroids - Young Hearts Spark Fire

What sealed this for me was some broheim turning to me at a Japandroids show in Williamsburg and actually fist bumping me when this song began. A tremendous display of noble virility ensued, which I will not soon forget (fist pumping, yeaaAAAaaAAA singalongs, OH YEAH OH YEAH singalongs, OHHHHHH singalongs). Actually, any song that can cram all those variations of primal screaming into just over 5 minutes deserves #2, easily.

1. Beach Fossils - Vacation

If you've spent any time with me this year, I'm sure I've forced this song down your throat at least 25 times. I can't tell you how many times I've heard a song and thought "turn up the tremelo on those vocals, dude." Finally, someone heard my desperate pleas. Beach Fossils also heard the desperate pleas of my friends when he played this song 3 TIMES at a Cameo Gallery show. Favorite song of the year, favorite show of the year, favorite vocal effect maybe ever.

Kiss On My List

2009-12-09T10:58:00.002-05:00

In a truly last-ditch effort to revive some sort of collegial interest in this blog, I'm writing to urge everyone to submit two things:

1. A pop culture list of SOME KIND. That is to say, "Top 10 Singles," "Top 10 Films," "Top 20 Albums," "Top 10 TV Shows," etc. are all perfectly acceptable. Most of us are culture junkies, or at least recreational users, so it's time to share the expertise, in the spirit of Christmas!

2. THE EPIC 10. This was probably my favorite aspect of the blog that once was "Epic Mail," and I'd love to do it again (mostly because several entries of mine will likely infuriate Quilliam, much to my delight).

Anyway, I implore you all to consider my requests. You don't, after all, want to be left with only my own "Epic 10" and something like "Top 20 Songs of 2009 in Which You Can't Tell Whether a Certain Sound is Vocals, Guitar, or Simply Tape Hiss."

Epically mailingly yours,

OKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYGUYS

Epic Mail Epic List Challenge: The 10 Greatest Decades of this Decade of This Generation

2009-10-02T23:45:00.008-04:00

Hey, rest of Epic Mail I'm really happy for you, and imma let the you finish, but Pitchfork has one of the greatest lists of all time. (drops mic).

Not to seem like I'm taking over the joint (shit, I haven't even met with most of you), and I'd also like to avoid Quilliam's likely regrets over letting me in on the game, but sometimes genius strikes and you just gotta crap it out onto the intarwebs. Or just go another round of DOTA. Whichever floats your boat.

Anywhom, I'd like to send out a challenge of sorts that would hopefully increase the chatter on the blog beyond the level of crickets (thems some real google analytics type observations). The challenge being in the vein of the cheapest and laziest form of bad writing: List Making. The theme is, as stated above, the 10 Greatest Decades of this Decade of This Generation. Make of it what you will, but you better damn well be justified. One might complete the task with an unimpeachable list of the 10 Greatest Decades, or the 10 Greatest Generations (WWII=Kid A, amirite?). A real sorcerer (or saucier, your choice), might try and conjure the true meaning of the task, and produce the 10 Greatest Decades that have occurred within either or both of the current decade (whose end is nigh) and the current generation (whose beginning and end is somewhere in the nexus of X, Y and i). What might define such a decade is of course up to you, or empirical science, whomsoever bribes you best.

Have at you.

Is This Sweet? 48 Gallons of Mayo and 80 Pounds of Butter

2009-08-12T10:02:00.006-04:00

Of course not! Unless it is the spread on the world's largest BLT! Then, I think indubitably, the answer is yes. The residents of South St. Louis recently wrapped up their Tomato Festival by constructing a 179-ft. BLT. Pat Buchanon better rekognize*. That's 500 pounds of bacon! It turns out, however, that the world record was all a cover. The real operation is that the folks at Iron Barley Restaurant have recently acquired flamethrowers. And what better opportunity to make legal use of a flamethrower in public than to toast the world largest bacon-lettuce-tomato sandwich?
*It is the opinion of this blogger that in fact it is worth fighting a war over sandwiches, especially if said sandwich is a BLT.

WHOA. YEAH. A Retrospective

2009-06-25T16:02:00.014-04:00

Hey Guys,

I gratefully accept the invitation to write for this esteemed publication. Now, I provide a salvo, if you will, a retrospective look at WHOA and YEAH as perhaps the ultimate, essential linguistic element in our popular music and culture. I hope it is enjoyable enough for you to poop on.

It has occurred to me lately that over the past calendar year we have seen a new creative renaissance for WHOA (and its cousin, OOH, which I will address later). The WHOA Renaissance in my opinion began early last year when Beyonce decided it was time to hold a musical seance with Janet Jackson to produce this dance smash:

Beyonce - Single ladies from morespace.webs.com on Vimeo.

Undoubtedly, this marks a point where the wizards behind big "P" pop music decided it was acceptable to bring back the onomatopoeia into the fold. It also is what sparks the necessity for this retrospective, as it beckons the eternal question "did 'WHOA' ever leave?".

In the Beginning - What is a WHOA? A YEAH? AN OOH?

At the outset here it is important to establish exactly what WHOA, YEAH and OOH are meant to stand for. Of the three I believe WHOA to be the most basic. WHOA is an expressive sound with no explicit meaning. That is to say I am distinguishing it clearly from the word 'wow', which when sung may sometimes sound similar but is almost always differentiated on the lyric sheet. It is a sound, not a word. OOH is very closely related to WHOA in that it is sometimes used to convey similar expressions, indeed often times WHOA and OOH are indistinguishable. It is these times where it is indistinguishable from WHOA that I will be addressing (it's other use, to which we can refer to as simply 'oh', is more of a tool of poetic apostrophe).

Now we turn to YEAH, which is a little trickier to define. YEAH undeniably carries an affirmative meaning and its use in popular music has a very particular corner. For the purposes of this retrospective, let's limit ourselves to the study of YEAH as it exists to concretely affirm the more vague implications of WHOA and OOH, as demonstrated nicely in the lead single off Jenny Lewis' newest album:

At the root of popular music there are two neatly defined uses of these expressive sounds, and it so happens that they fall neatly into styles of music that were segregated until the early 1950's. From what I can tell, the entirety of high-class continental music from the Italian renaissance through the 1930's was entirely dependent on the syllable "WHOA", and it didn't even know it. See this :57 of this clip from Verdi's Il Travatore as exhibit A:

In this example we see the simple, utilitarian necessity of WHOA in Western music. Also this in many ways shows how WHOA (and it's bastard brother OOH) did in fact predate YEAH in a musically expressive context. The utility of WHOA should be apparent, and its language universal, but it is indeed something different in the classical Western canon than it is in the African-American context to which we will now turn.

Where Pavorroti is pushed towards WHOA because there is no real discernible syllable that could more adequately achieve that impressive pitch, African-American Blues reached for WHOA to express emotions too big for the English language. WHOA became in blues the way to vocally approximate the emotive nature of their instruments (primarily the guitar). While its use was a little more reserved during the Prewar era, the Chess Records set had certainly incorporated it into what we now consider to be the canonical Blues music as evidenced by this clip from Little Walter:

Now the groundwork is laid for the confluence of the continental syllabic utility and Afro-American expressiveness better known to the young folk as Rock N' Roll.

Rock N' Roll Music - This is your Daddy's WHOA

This confluence was definitely a gradual one, it is hard to pinpoint the first recording where both uses are at hand, but I think we can get a good ballpark date. An important moment is the introduction of the classic Afro-American use of WHOA into Caucasian adaptation of Rock N' Roll, which I don't think happened any earlier than Jerry Lee Lewis' recording of "Great Balls of Fire", see the 1:25 mark of this clip:

This recording is from 1957, but it is still a classic Afro-American use of WHOA, in this case to emphasize the rollicking tempo and pitch that precedes the last verse of the song. In fact, it may not have been until the Beatles that we saw a solidified example of WHOA or OOH being blended between continental and Afro-American usage. The lead single and title track of Please Please Me (1963) is really the first time we see it all come together, the use of a WHOA YEAH to both express a certain (though perhaps at the time, unspeakable) desire attached to the ambiguous request that is the song's title as well as accommodating a pleasing, useful melodic construct. Observe:

Here is where things really get rolling. From what I can tell it took American music about a year and half to two years to really catch up from a songwriting standpoint, but one band was able to pick up WHOA, take it to new expressive heights as well as properly introducing YEAH as a standalone musical point; that band was the Kingsmen and the recording was their rendition of Richard Berry's tune 'Louie Louie' from later in 1963. Seriously, WHOA and YEAH are the two most important lyrics in this song:

It's also worth mentioning that YEAH is introduced here not quite as a standalone, but as a triptych of YEAH's. From this recording on, YEAH is established not only as an expressive syllable, but as a rhythmic vocalization as well. From 'Louie Louie' we can also being to trace WHOA and YEAH to the style of music that would become its main residence for the better part of 30 years, Hard Rock. The recklessness of the Kingsmen surely influenced the slowly burgeoning Hard Rock scene, and WHOA was along for the ride. We see in this clip from the Yardbirds, a supergroup which featured hard rock legends Jimmy Page and Jeff Beck, WHOA converging with a new 'eastern' vibe and the earliest recorded use of a fuzz box:

Whole Lotta WHOA - Hard Rock and Psychedelia

The late 60's and into the 70's Hard Rock and Psychedelia became the demonstrative champions of WHOA and YEAH. Truly this is where WHOA and YEAH reached their apex in popular music. Both the hippie set and the new fangled metal-heads took WHOA and YEAH to places it hadn't gone before and would really never go again. The distinctive lack of polish and precision lathered over well worn but well constructed blues and funk grooves lent delivered WHOA and YEAH to their home as truly interjectory expressions, appearing wherever the singer felt they should appear. From the hippie side, the true champion of WHOA and YEAH actually comes from Janis Joplin, who never admitted to using psychotropic drugs (she refferred to herself as a 'drunkadelic'), but nonetheless was a hippie hero and 'Piece of My Heart' is a canonical WHOA and YEAH song:

It was all over the place and it was sloppy, but in ways that just feel right. A balance that many after her would try, and fail at matching.

The same year, Led Zeppelin released II. While it would be two more records before they were cemented as the greatest hard rock band of all time, this record unleashed "Whole Lotta Love". The second half of this track dropped the pretenses that were behind the WHOA YEAH in "Please Please Me", understood the utility of an inflexive WHOA or OOH much the way Verdi did, and was pushed by its surroundings to a bigger, more emotive place.

There is very little that is careful about Robert Plant's vocal track on this song, yet he seems to have consumed the utility of the continental canon of WHOA and allowed it to flow naturally out of him in places that clearly mark it as Afro-American influenced. Truly, these were WHOA's and OOH's and YEAH's that you could lose yourself in. They were intended to make your head swim, and I'd say they more than achieved that goal.

Yet, Zeppelin and Joplin were meddling in a dark art of sorts. Quite quickly, this artful sloppiness got way, way out of hand and lent itself almost too easily to parody and laziness began to take over. That and there was disco. Disco nearly fucking killed WHOA and YEAH.

Part IV - The Part Where Disco Nearly Fucking Killed WHOA and YEAH

I can't say it enough, I would blame cocaine for all of this, but that would be an insult to cocaine.

Oh Thank God, Or How the Boss and the Godfather saved WHOA and YEAH

Seriously, disco was some pretty bad shit, people. ABBA? The Bee Gees? I want to kill myself and I wasn't even around then. But thank the Lord for African Americans and working class white folk from New Jersey. There were two acts that carried the torch for WHOA and YEAH through the 70's once Hard Rock went off the deep end and the disco abomination started. Those two men were James Brown and Bruce Springsteen.

For Brown, while at this time there wasn't much innovative about his WHOA and YEAH, carried the torch for the funk interpretation of WHOA and YEAH (also GOOD GOD and ALRIGHT, but I digress) throughout the decade, most prevalently releasing "Get Up... Sex Machine" in 1970 and "Get Up Offa That Thing" in 1975.

The Boss, however, was able to do something special. With the support of the E Street Band, Springsteen was able to recapture the youthful innocence of the early years of rock while incorporating a lot of the unhinged vocal stylings berthed by hard rock. The seminal example being the 1975 cut "Born to Run" at the :37, 1:25 and 3:28 marks here:

In truth, this recording is like a sun bursting out its last rays before it goes cold.

The Eighties - Where WHOA and YEAH Head to the Desert

If the late sixties and early seventies were the apex of WHOA and YEAH in popular music, the eighties represented the nadir. Glam metal gave WHOA and YEAH a pretty bad name, but to their credit they were really the only ones keeping it going. WHOA and YEAH were replaced in Pop by Michael Jackson's HEE-HEE's, and the scrubbed, squeaky clean production values of most of the Pop field didn't really allow for vocals with a lot of fat to them (and that was probably for the best). That said, some cream had to rise to the top, right?

Picking up where Led Zeppelin left off, David Lee Roth and Eddie Van Halen took Zeppelin's attitude to the logical extreme and WHOA and YEAH went along for the ride. DLR may be infamous for incredibly fatty, ugly, abuses to WHOA and YEAH, but those standalone vocal tracks are admittedly a little unfair. By the release of "1984" Van Halen embodied what 80's music was for most people - fun. Sure, it's vapid, essentially meaningless, indulgently silly and an almost irresponsible waste of time and money, but if you didn't spend at least an afternoon as a child rockin' along to "Panama", you never lived:

Again, WHOA and YEAH lack all art in this music, but it is nonetheless true to some basic principles of expression that were championed a decade earlier by Plant and Zeppelin.

Now it should be mentioned that underground music did not disregard WHOA and YEAH in totality. On a whole it simply regressed to its more archaic, poetic roots like the subtle apostrophe of the opening line of "Losing My Religion" by REM. It was even more prevalent in the avante-garde and African-influenced music. A great reference point for this comes in the breakdown (2:09) of the Talking Heads' "And She Was" (1985):

The odd thing about this sort of avant-garde use of WHOA or YEAH is that it pretty much disappears after these artists leave the scene, only to return again over the last year or so.

WHOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAA AYE AYE AYE AYE AYE, OR When Grunge Happened

Kurt Cobain and Nirvana may have instigated the Grunge revolution, but in terms of WHOA and YEAH the resurgence in Grunge has the other two guys (Eddie Vedder and Chris Cornell) to thank for rescuing them from the vacuous, emotionless pit that was Glam Metal.

Truly this is as heavy as WHOA ever got. In its later incarnations, the Grunge WHOA frequently drowned in its own self-seriousness, but early on Pearl Jam's Ten was the kick in the pants popular music needed to remember that WHOA must not be taken lightly. The Eighties were fun and all, but WHOA can go to more places than just evocations of the coital pleasures. The 4:17 mark of the soon-to-be classic rock staple "Jeremy" proves this point:

Chris Cornell, regardless of his reputation, has a voice that was made for hard rock and grunge. I don't think he knows how to do anything else (he certainly isn't very good at pop music). That lent itself to many a great wail but for some reason, it didn't really come through on record.

I'd be remiss if I went through the history of WHOA and YEAH in the 90's if I also didn't point you to the 2:26 point of this clip:

Really this is a point where the Grunge WHOA seemed to be crossing over into rapcore, but then again, the Beastie's always straddled that line between genre's.

The nineties also marks a point where it becomes very difficult to chart WHOA and YEAH. With recording and releasing records becoming exponentially cheaper and easier, its hard to say where the trends really were or to cover all of the bases. I could dig deep into the birth of indie here, but I'm reserving that for the last section. As Grunge imploded on itself, popular music was begat first to a new strain of garage rock heralded by Weezer (who put WHOA and OOH to excellent use on "Buddy Holly"), but the lack of output over the course of the late nineties allowed their influence to be spent on emo. Much like Van Halen and Weezer, Emo bands took Pearl Jam's emotive, brooding, self-serious WHOA and YEAH and took it to its ugly conclusion. All subtelty was lost and what was left was a bunch of whining brats and power chords.

The Modern Day: Beyonce, Fleet Foxes, Grizzly Bear and the WHOA YEAH Resurgence

Now to my real point. In the last year or so we have seen a renaissance in WHOA and YEAH. Tracing back through history we haven't seen WHOA and YEAH in this sort of prevalence across so many styles since the mid to late sixties. And to top it off, none of it is bland and all of it is cognizant of both the utility and the emotion that can come with WHOA and YEAH.

To start with the aforementioned clip from Beyonce. In "Single Ladies" Beyonce puts WHOA OOH through a workout that coalesces the rhythmic and demonstrative emotion. She is simultaneously sassing you about not proposing and letting you know exactly how to shake your ass. It sounds simple, but putting those two together doesn't happen enough.

In underground and indie music, Fleet Foxes got the ball rolling early last year. Hey four guys who can sing really well in harmony? Thats about all you need these days. They have a way of putting an acapella WHOA right at the beginning of a song such that it punches you in face and you're immediately transported back in time to a Brueghel painting or the woods of Lothlorian, whichever your pleasure. The best example of this is the track "Ragged Wood":

But really, they put WHOA to use in a lot of different ways and none of them feel indulgent!

Consequently, the two Album of the Year competitors from this year so far are also connoisseurs of the WHOA. Grizzly Bear has gotten as close to Pet Sounds as any band has since the Beach Boys almost did that one time. The lead track "Two Weeks" relies heavily on a well built and at times circuitous WHOA pattern that is aided by Victoria LeGrande of Beach House:

Whhoooooooaaaaaa OOOOOOOOHHHHhhhhOOOOhhhh WHHHHAAAAAAAaaaaaaAAAA. Seriously guys, this is the jam.

Remember how I said that the Talking Head's knowledge of WHOA went underground? Well the Dirty Projectors dug it up! Hooray! Dave Longstreth's compositional strengths are really evident, but this record isn't nearly as great with out those lovely ladies he's recruited. The intricate, innovative WHOA's and OOH's make the lead single "Stillness is the Move" and they'll certainly be talked about for a long time:

Alright guys, that's pretty much it. The long story behind this summers totally sweeeeeet jamzzzzzz. WHOA. YEAH.

Professor Bromford's Laboratory: Lesson 1

2009-06-11T15:10:00.009-04:00

Professor Harold Legume Bromford’s Laboratory
Lesson 1:
“Taking it to the Max,” vs. “Bringing it to the Next Level”

Introductory Words

Good afternoon, and welcome to the first installment of my lecture series, “Bromford’s Laboratory.” Supposing you cretins couldn’t have guessed, my name is Professor H.L. Bromford, and you are all about to take a transformational journey into the core of science.

As an eminently extreme human being, I make it a point to push limits, blow minds, and generally exude “badass.” Skeptics need not look further than the list of courses I’ve taught for proof. Come to think of it, I recognize some of you morons from my “Chainsaw Racing” class last semester.

Despite my mastery of all things, I sometimes have difficulty finding the right words to describe my lifestyle. It’s as if the English language struggles to match my pace. After a long search for the perfect phrase, I’ve whittled down the competition to two possibilities, though each with their flaws: “Taking it to the max,” and “Bringing it to the next level.”

Prima Facie Analysis
Diagram A
Let’s begin our analysis at surface level. Diagram A neatly provides a visualization of both phrases. “Taking it to the max” involves two premises: first, that a discrete maximum exists, and second, that we have arrived at that maximum. “Bringing it to the next level” involves two similar premises: first, that we’re on a level, and second, that we have brought ourselves to the next, higher level, one that is more extreme by some undefined measure.

At this level of detail, “taking it to the max” dominates the field as the more powerful statement. While “bringing it to the next level” is satisfactory, it remains a descriptor of a single unit -- one step. By contrast, “taking it to the max” allows for the possibility of multiple steps in one motion. In fact, it implies that we skip all intermediate steps leading up to the max. In this sense, “taking it to the max” encompasses “bringing it to the next level” and then some.

The Hamburgler routinely steals single hamburgers. I’ve seen it. Last Tuesday he decided to bring it to the next level, and stole two hamburgers – impressive. But the next day, he said, “fuck it, I’m taking this to the max,” and backed a military transport truck through the concrete siding of the McDonald’s regional beef shipping facility, moments later to abscond with two tons of processed hamburgers. It was huge. The local news ate it up. He’s now serving six years in a state penitentiary. Regardless, he demonstrates that the sweetness of taking it to the max renders an incremental, level-based approach foolish. The max makes headlines.

Taking it to the Max

It’s tempting to leave it at that, and I’m sure many of you would rather quit now and still catch the matinee showing of, “I Love You Man” than attempt anything rigorous. But there’s more to discover, and Diagram A is misleadingly simple. If you idiots could stop masturbating long enough to lean closer to your monitors, you would see that Diagram B gets into the fun stuff.

Diagram B
We can break down “taking it to the max” into two fundamental components: the max axis, represented by the dotted line, and the “where we’re taking it vector” (WWTI for short), represented by the arrow. These two measures can be roughly compared to the X and Y axes of a graph, where the X axis is the max, and the Y axis is our trajectory towards the max.

The act of “taking it to the max” is consummated at the intercept between these two axes, called the “Düsseldorf Point” (after the venerable Italian mathematician Mario Düsseldorf, whose name caused endless confusion amongst the German scientific community every time he published an article. Düsseldorf’s 1973 opus Le Leggi Naturali di Massimo, in which he lays out the principles of his max-point theory, received mixed reviews and prompted New Yorker columnist Timothy Bruille to famously quip, “Düsseldorf is oblivious to the astounding irony of his discovery, as Italians have never taken anything to the max, ever.” Incidentally, Dusseldorf was best known for his research on time travel, although once it became apparent that his sole ambition was to send a pizza sauce recipe back in time, his work quickly became the straw man of the emerging field.). At the Düsseldorf Point, we have successfully taken it to the max; we and the max are one.

So far, our notion of “taking it the max” has relied heavily on the existence of a discrete max within a bounded universe, while snubbing the concept of infinity. But can we ever be positive that we’re at the max? Couldn’t there always be something higher? Is our “max axis” little more than a theoretical Maginot Line? Is our Düsseldorf Point an unreachable phantom?

We represent this uncertainty in Diagram B by changing the max axis from a solid line to a dotted line, above which lies the theoretical maxosphere – or, “that which is more max than the max.” It remains theoretical, of course, since observing it is beyond our meager human capabilities. But since I’ve received no fewer than thirteen emails from a pathetic student on the subject: yes, a 200-foot robot whose mouth shoots out bits of Kurt Cobain’s corpse would probably fall into this category. Does the possibility of a maxosphere doom our entire endeavor of taking it to the max? Before we answer this question, let’s turn to our other phrase.

Bringing it to the Next Level
Diagram C
While our first representation of “bringing it to the next level” is both simple and accurate, we must never forget the golden rule of levels: you can ALWAYS bring it to the next level. Even though we can move only one unit at a time, the process can be repeated ad infinitum, taking us to more and more extreme levels. Welcome to the maxosphere. No shirt? No shoes? No limits? No problem.

Imagine the following dialogue between Chazzie and Dan:

Dan: “What perfect skimboarding weather. Check out this sweet move. I’m going to take it to the max.”
Chazzie: “Oh yeah? Well I’m also going to take it to the max… AND THEN I’M GOING TO BRING IT TO THE NEXT LEVEL.”
[Chazzie pulls a twisted 1080 herringbone sloucher.]
Dan: “Dag.”

Chazzie, living up to his extreme name, has just made an utter fool of Dan. Dag, indeed, you poor soul. Make a note of this in your copybooks.

Despite embracing the infinite, “bringing it to the next level” is weighted with the problem of uncertainty. Who defines the boundaries of a level? Returning to our fictitious bro Chazzie, let’s say he jumps three feet in the air on his skimboard. In his next jump, he could reach a height of three feet and one nanometer, and would technically reach the next level, although the end result is fairly meaningless, and certainly not extreme.

Addressing the Infinite

And so it seems that infinity is the trump card. Unless we can find a way to unshackle “taking it to the max” from a finite max, “bringing it to the next level” will emerge the victor. I propose two possible ways of doing this.

First, we could contextualize our max. While the universe is infinite, our circumstances are not. As mortals subject to the laws of physics, we remain fatally bound by our contextual limits. In “taking it to the max,” then, we are being as extreme as our situation allows. In this new paradigm, our max axis becomes more of a “situational max.” Second, we could emphasize the act of “taking” more than the “max” itself. We shift the emphasis from a discrete max to the zeal with which we approach the task (i.e. “fuck levels, I’m going to roll as hard as I possibly can").

A Call to Arms

Ultimately, I’m still uneasy about picking the best phrase. Each seems to require the other, to some extent, like the yin and yang of extreme metrics. And so, improbably, I’m going to turn the discussion over to the snot-nosed masses – what do you think?

Epic Meme: Play Me Off, Keyboard Cat

2009-05-05T19:26:00.002-04:00

Today at work I followed a link Quilliam had posted, and it led me to the Keyboard Cat. I'm not sure where this internet sensation came from, but it has truly enlivened my day. Here are some of my favorites; Keyboard Cat's Greatest Hits:

And another,

This one made me feel bad, but the comedic timing is spot on:

And finally, there is my favorite. As you may have noticed, the Keyboard Cat videos follow a particular pattern: Popular viral video of a "fail" + Keyboard Cat, with Keyboard Cat interspersed with slow motion clips of the "fail." This last selection eschews the standard formula, and instead inserts a family argument and, as a final stroke of genius, no slow motion "fail" clips- just Keyboard Cat playing away, heightening the tension.

See Also: Garfield

Austin Bitty Limits: When Reality TV Becomes Reality

2009-05-05T18:25:00.005-04:00

Ok. I already posted something about this on my facebook profile but it's too good, too epic to pass up. Right now, this very moment, I am sitting in the exact same cafe in Austin where two years ago a nervous group of boys became men. Yes. Your instincts are correct. I'm sitting in the same location as a day challenge for vh1's The Pick-Up Artist season 1.

A bit of back -story. I'm currently in Austin, TX looking for an apartment. I'm done for the day after finding a place. I'm staying with my friend Anne but she is currently in class. She suggested I check out a cafe called The Spider House. It sounded great. They serve beer. The have free WiFi. All the things I need to pass the time until she gets out of class.

I walk down Guadalupe Street. I arrive at the Spider House. I walk into what appears to be a hip outdoor cafe. After two seconds it suddenly hits me: I've been here before. Except I know I haven't. My mind goes back and forth, paralyzed by the cognitive dissonance. Why is this so familiar. Three seconds later I suddenly understand. I remember a day challenge. I remember trying to open sets of women, hopelessly hoping that one of them, even an ugly one, will give me an IOI (Indicator of Interest) which will give me the confidence to attempt a number close, enabling me to hold my head high in front of the master, the guru, the ultimate goggle-wearing pick-up artist... Mystery. I remember how this challenge was different. It was during the day. Things move slower. Slow down. Be cool. Relax. You don't have the little dog to help you out because you were terrible last night in the club challenge. It's alright, though. The fat guy who had the dog blew it only minutes ago. You're fine. Make eye contact. Don't look desperate. Don't look creepy. A waitress approaches me.

"Need a place sit?"

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Oh no. I'm going to die alone.......

Thankfully, I summoned the courage to indicate that, yes, I desire to be seated. I've just ordered a Brooklyn Lager on tap. I see a two-set a few tables over. I'm in Austin. I'm a new man, right? Tabula Rasa? I can't disappoint Mystery this time.

What kind of post-modern dystopia has mexico become?

2009-05-04T17:47:00.001-04:00

Is Beyonce the Anti Christ?

2009-05-02T11:10:00.009-04:00

Is Sasha Fierce an anagram for Satan? Are single ladies the first demographic to be brainwashed on the anti-Christ's rise to power? Or perhaps we should look to all "'yes or 'ays" as agents of the anti-Christ - Beyonce, Kanye, Ray J, OJ, Jimmy Ray? Well, prepare your hearts and minds, say your prayers, and consider:

And, don't miss part II:

So, what have we learned? "SEX YOU UP" WAS BLESSED BY A WARLOCK AND ANIMAL SACRIFICE IN ORDER TO GET YOUNG GIRLS TO LOSE THEIR VIRGINITY.

5 Reasons Matt Should See 'Adventureland'

2009-04-22T22:28:00.006-04:00

5. It's full of late 1980s post-graduate angst.
4. The field of Semiotics is mentioned 2 minutes into the movie.
3. The main love interest, Kristen Stewart, frequently dons a black Lou Reed T-shirt. ***
2. "I'm In Love With a Girl" by Big Star plays in the background during the first romantic encounter.
1. The movie opens and ends with the Replacements; "Bastards of Young" and "Unsatisfied", respectively.

Ok, so first I need to make clear that while I really enjoyed 'Adventureland,' I would never defend it as a great film. All it really is is a fairly humorous portrait of a guy kind of like me - he's just out of college, hoping to go to graduate school, working a shitty job in the meantime, all while living at his parents' house. It's not a must-see. I'd give it 3.5 stars on Netflix if I rented it. I hadn't even planned on seeing it. I stumbled into the theater after originally wanting to see 'Earth' and realizing 20 min in that it was just Planet Earth redux sans David Attenborough (replaced by James Earl Jones...). I will say, however, that 'Adventureland' was a pleasant surprise.

First off, the soundtrack is killer. Yo La Tengo chose all the tracks and the picked a perfect mixed tape soundtrack for this 1987 period movie: The Replacements, Big Star, Crowded House, Velvet Underground (Ok, so not the 80s but it works). The music evokes late-night summer in the eighties, making you nostalgic for a time you never experienced in the same way 'Sandlot' did for us when we were kids. And that's another surprising aspect of the movie: it lets you know that it's set in the 1980s. For some reason I though this was another Judd Apatow film so the setting (and tone) really threw me off. While there are a few scenes with Reagan on the television talking about Iran-Contra that might cause you to make a Forrest Gump cringe, the movie's dedication to its setting doesn't detract from the overall viewing experience. So it's not a movie ABOUT the 1980s but it's also not 2009 humor tranplanted and thrown into a 1987 costume. It really just lets you experience the sweetness of the late eighties. Lastly, it is not Juno-fied, a direction it could have easily have taken. It really tries to be earnest instead of throwing clever but ultimately meaningless catch phrases at you with the hopes of reminding you "how cool is this movie?".

Matt - I really wish that you could enjoy this movie. And maybe you can. If you can toss off your recently acquired cinematic sensibilities and summon your inner 1980s romantic then perhaps you can appreciate the experience of watching this film. I'm hesitant to make the comparison to Whit Stillman's films (Metropolitan in particular) because I know how highly you regard those. I'll put it this way: it gets as close as Hollywood can to that aesthetic. The movie definitely has its flaws. Jesse Eisenberg's character is a dweeb and a bit too Michael Cera-ish at times. The plot can be formulaic, the dialogue bordering on prosaic. Ryan Reynolds is in it.

Part of me hopes you don't see it because I'm 80% sure that the following scenario will occur. You will read this post and think "Wow, maybe I should see it." You'll go see it, hate it, and then call me and give me shit for telling you to see it. I'll have to hear your film studies bullshit for a half hour while trying to defend the really sweet parts of the movie - parts that I KNOW you thought were totally sweet but can't completely admit to liking. But I have to give it a shot. I had to write this post.

Did I mention that the movie opens with "Bastards of Young" by the Replacements?

***I remembered this morning that there is an addition reason you should see this movie, Matt. Right before Kristen Stewart is about to get it on with Ryan Reynolds, she puts the acoustic version of "Taste of Cindy" by Jesus and Mary Chain on the record player. Totally. Sweet.

Ian Curtis Will Tear The Fragile Psyche of Hyperactive Adolescents Apart

2009-04-19T18:05:00.005-04:00

Brian Gibson - Love Will Tear Us Apart (Joy Division Cover) from Johnny Internets on Vimeo

While we here at Epic Mail are never ones to stifle the creative output of adolescents (our blog wouldn't be here otherwise), the only thing more harrowing than realizing your child is strung out beyond the reach of modern medicine on Kidz Bop techno (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b0tXBqSJAek) is realizing the latent Ian Curtis parallels of such expression.

Billy Corgan Has Officially Gone Crazy

2009-04-16T14:02:00.001-04:00

I don't even know what to say about this.

Sail Free or Die Hard: the American Response to Piracy

2009-04-09T17:07:00.005-04:00

So the first American-run ship was hijacked by Somali pirates yesterday and instead of allowing the pirates to run rough-shod over them and ransom the ship and its cargo, the American crew managed to disable the ship, forcing the pirates to flee with only one hostage: the ship's selfless captain.

Now I know a few months ago we were all asking ourselves, "Are these pirates sweet?" and many of us concluded that "Yes, yes they are." However, a new question has arisen in response to this new pirate attack on the American vessel: are our guys sweeter?

In short, I believe the superior sweetness of our guys is undeniable. Not only did our guys kick the pirates off of the ship without the use of any firearms, but they also managed to live out every American action movie ever made, reinforcing our national worship of the take charge-no bull shit American hero who is simultaneously a selfless martyr willing to sacrifice for his fellow man.

Let's consider the crew's decision to disable the ship. Did anyone else immediately think of Harrison Ford in Air Force One? Now it's true we could think of the passengers of Flight 93 but I'm trying to write a light-hearted piece and I'm not interested in getting bogged down in that. Back to American cinema. Imagine being a crew member. You have no weapons and the Somalis have boarded your ship. You look to your shipmate and say, "They're not taking our ship." You hatch a plan with those on board to sabotage the ship. I would be very surprised if at least one crew member didn't think to him or herself that when they had successfully foiled the pirates' plans and were about to throw them off the ship that he or she would take advantage of this unbelievably sweet moment and say to the pirate "Get off my ship!!!" I'm sure many of the crewmembers thought that it was their responsibility as representatives of the US of A to do what sailors of other nations did not have the courage to do... to say "No" to the piracy and kick some ass.

While the crew's plan worked, the captain of the ship was unable to save himself and, at least from what I heard on NPR this morning, agreed to go with the pirates as a hostage to secure the well-being of his men. There's almost too many examples of this to mention but because of the title of my post I have to bring up the most recent Die Hard. The final scene in this ridiculous action movie perfectly captures the spirit of sacrifice we demand from our uniquely American heroes. Bruce Willis is being held hostage by the villain who is standing directly behind him with a gun to Willis' head. Willis' character pulls his partner's gun (who is standing in front of the pair) to his shoulder, effectively shooting the bad guy standing behind him by allowing the bullet to first pass through his body. I'm not sure there's been a sweeter scene in an action movie in a long, long time.

I'm not interested in dissecting WHY we have created this particular idea of what it means to be an American hero; I'm merely pointing out that this recent pirate incident is a particularly sweet example of it being acted out in real life. My thoughts obviously go out to the captain who, as of now, is still on board the small vessel with the pirates. The tiny boat is being closely followed by an American destroyer but they are unable to really take any action at this point. Now there's another distinctly American image: the biggest and best technology a country can build rendered impotent by a few desperate criminals on a speed boat.

The Welcomed Return of Suburban Rock

2009-04-03T14:12:00.004-04:00

note: This post will soon be followed by a more general "blog-conscious" post about the state of our blog and a call for revitalization/re-conceptualization of Epic Mail.

Maybe I've just been back in my hometown for too long and am currently being pulled out to sea by the riptide of high school nostalgia. Maybe I've gotten burned out on all the disco-infused music I listened to in college and no longer want to listen to music with "This would be so sweet to dance to at the party tonight" in mind. Or maybe I just miss my epic bros (but not enough to go see "I Love You, Man", Dana Stevens). Whatever the reason(s), I'm currently loving the new and perhaps brief resurgence of slacker-rock that allows me to relive the glory days of late night driving/screaming to Pavement, Weezer (ugh), Built to Spill, and Modest Mouse. I can only listen to that collection of albums so much before I feel anachronistic and trapped by my musical past.

The new slacker-rockers I'm referring to are Cymbals Eat Guitars and Suckers. Both bands have been all over Pitchfork et al, and they both are living up to the hype. I don't know their back stories that well and honestly I don't really care that much. CEG (sorry, I'm only capable of typing that awful name once) have an unbelievable album out now in digital form called "Why There Are Mountains." All nine tracks perfectly synthesize the cosmic guitars of BTS, the jangle and rambling of Pavement, and the grit both vocally and production-wise of Modest Mouse but without sounding merely derivative; itt plays like a lost gem of the mid-nineties. The other band, Suckers, from Brooklyn, are releasing an EP this Spring and seem to have a similar musical approach. "It Gets Your Body Movin'" has plenty of desperate group vocals that would allow a car full of bros to, in a slight revision of Ari from Entourage, "yell it out."

One last bit: I realize these bands both have horrible names. The only thing I can say to that is that their predecessors have equally stupid names when you think about them for more than two seconds. Pavement? I can't even think of a humorous situation in which bandmates might arrive at such a name. Modest Mouse? I even reMEMber thinking that was "raaaaaandom" in middle school. My point is that they're in good company and soon we'll get used to the poor choice of names... that is if they don't follow the debut album boom and bust trend of the myspace era.

So get on hypemachine, download their stuff, gather up some bros, choose a driver, and spend the night singing these guys' songs at the top of your lungs. And give me a call - I've had to pull an Alanis Morisette and imagine copies of myself in the car with me.

20 Gs

2009-04-02T23:03:00.005-04:00

This 'party pic' has got to be the strangest thing to ever come out of an international economic meeting:

And this has to be the greatest:

Dance Party Fodder

2009-03-30T00:53:00.007-04:00

I have a request.

Can someone who knows what they're doing please make a crazy, synthed-out remix of this yeah yeah yeahs song? It's already so fucking danceable it's ridiculous, but it has virtually unlimited potential. And the hypemachines of the world are letting me down.

Andy, I'm looking at you.

Heads Will Roll - Yeah Yeah Ye...

Most Worthy Matron

2009-03-13T13:23:00.002-04:00

My town has a local masonic temple. For the first time today, I took notice of the sign out front, and then took a picture. I'm not sure what kind of cabal they run, but sign me up for the cryptic council, please.

Frank Miller's Charlie Brown

2009-03-12T15:09:00.004-04:00

Higher resolution here.

Post-Colonial Exploitation?

2009-03-09T15:31:00.000-04:00

OK, no, seriously -- Is This Sweet?

2009-02-19T01:07:00.004-05:00

This may be the most random (but somehow maybe possibly great?) super-group of all time:

According to Billboard.com, there's a new band that exists on earth called Tinted Windows featuring former Smashing Pumpkin James Iha, Cheap Trick drummer Bun E. Carlos, handsome Hanson brother Taylor, and Fountains of Wayne bassist Adam Schlesinger.

[...]

Apparently, the band have already recorded their debut album in New York and are set to make their big time live splash at Billboard's SXSW showcase March 20 in Austin.

Maybe it's just that I'm exceedingly happy to see news involving an ex-Smashing Pumpkin that doesn't make me want to stab Billy Corgan in the face, but I see reason to be cautiously optimistic about this.

--James Iha -- despite looking like a stoned asian space alien -- was always cool.
--Cheap Trick is Cheap Trick
--Taylor Hanson is a cutie. And he did that cover of Radiohead's "Optimistic" once.
--Fountains of Wayne -- I've been informed by multiple sources -- are not nearly as reprehensible as "Stacy's Mom" once had me believe.

PS: What is it about bizarre super-groups that causes them to choose the shittiest, most generic names names ever? I mean, Tinted Windows is bad... but what about Velvet Revolver? Or the time the dudes in a band called fucking Rage Against The Machine couldn't come up with anything better than Audioslave?

PPS: For Brandon.

I'm Not Impressed: Getting angry at "getting" Dylan.

2009-02-17T21:30:00.013-05:00

I've spent the last week or so digesting the Film I'm Not There, a self-proclaimed biopic of Bob Dylan. I've approached from several standpoints. A 'meta' reading, wherein this film is as much a commentary on the ability to capture a life as it is about Dylan. A view through director Todd Haynes' ideal of the refractionary reflection on a life. I've even brushed up on my Dylan, thinking that maybe I just didn't "get it" enough. Perhaps if I listened to a few records and read a Wikipedia page or two, the entirety of this film would open itself to me. A sweet delicious onion. I am inevitably left however, with my immediate feeling upon finishing the film.

This movie is a giant, steaming pile of shit.

I'd like to defend this statement first by saying that I'm not against having several actors play a single role, or even portray several different roles intended, when in combination, to represent a larger whole. American Splendor? Love it. I'm also not against super-meta bullshit. I love super-meta bullshit. Day for Night? Great. Last Action Hero? Yes, please. What I cannot stand, what I will not tolerate, is this guy.
This jerk (Arthur Rimbaud [Ben Wishaw]) is, in one character, the sum of my hatred for this abysmal film school thesis project. This character's only purpose seems to be to answer questions in a manner that is equal parts glib and obtuse. If one thing annoys me [and several things do], it's some prick trying to be as cool as Bob Dylan [or Elvis Costello, or Lou Reed, or insert good musician who has inspired assholery]. Shut this prick up, and cut back to one of the three story lines I didn't mind so much.

The two super-close Dylan characters, Jack Rollins [Christian Bale] and Jude Quinn [Cate Blanchett], and the biopic-self-referencing [because Haynes' can't get enough of that] Robbie Clark [Heath Ledger]. Though I have problems here as well.

Much of Jack and Judes' part in this is pulled from actual Dylan footage. First up, Christian Bale. I really only remember him dropping the N-bomb. Did Dylan drop the N-bomb? Anyway, much of it is shot-for-shot from news footage, etc. Clever. The scene where he plays "Hattie Carol" for a bunch of hillbillies is pretty sweet though. His Pastor John thing is a terrible reach for refractionary biography. Hey, Dylan became super Christian for a while, what if this character becomes super Christian? Brilliant! And the actors name is Christian. Meta-Brilliant!

As for Cate Blanchett, if I wanted to watch Don't Look Back, I damn well would have watched Don't Look Back. Though the send-up to Hard Days' Night was a good bit of fun. Otherwise, watching Blanchett is like watching Gus Van Sant's shot-for-shot remake of Psycho. Sure she can do a great amphetamine-era Dylan, but why? At least they didn't add an unnecessary masturbation sequence.

Heath Ledger, semi-Freewheelin' to messy divorce Dylan. Fine. An actor who plays an actor who played Jack Rollins, a fictional version of a facet of Bob Dylan, played by a different actor. We get it, synthesizing a life for the screen requires synthesis. Move on.

As for the Woody Guthrie [Marcus Carl Franklin] character. If anything comes close to the biopic I expected, it was this guy. Little black kid representing Dylan's early influences, rambling nature, and the social need to "sing about [his] own time." Not terribly amazing, but good enough. Had more things been like this, maybe a little more thought out, I would have thought it adequate. Then they brought in Richard Gere.

What the hell? Why is this happening on the screen? Why is Richard Gere Billy the Kid? Call back to Riddle, MO, fine. Call back to the guitar case, fine. Is that a black guy with an American flag painted on his face? Is that the My Morning Jacket guy with his face painted white? Is that a Giraffe? That's a giraffe. Come on. If I wasn't thinking this collection of Kubrik-tracking-rip-off shots was awful, I'm way over the edge now.
The nail in the coffin for me was Haynes' own view of this film. "The minute you try to grab hold of Dylan, he's no longer where he was. He's like a flame: If you try to hold him in your hand you'll surely get burned." This whole film is an exercise for Todd to show us how much he "gets Dylan." He's every cultural studies student with a leather jacket with a picture of Lou Reed on the back that says "My Week Beats Your Year." I'm spoon fed enough pretentious film crap to say "Enough." I don't care if hardcore Dylan fans love finding all the little obscure tie-ins. It's one artsy prick's attempt to show just how cool he is. Haynes said, "I didn't want to make a movie that was about anything. I wanted to make a movie that is something." Well it is something.

It's a shitty movie.

The Contest

2009-02-17T09:26:00.003-05:00

From Britney.com:

"Welcome to the Britney Global Fan Fiction Contest

Step right up, step right up!

Now’s your chance to be Ring Master of the Circus and have your most creative Britney-inspired fiction story turned into an official digital music video!

That's right — your story could be used to create an official Britney Spears digital music video, seen all over the world! Compete against Britney fans from across the globe with your creative writing, imagination and passion for Britney. Only one fan will be the ultimate winner, so good luck!"

I challenge you, Epic Mailers, to participate in this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. And you, loyal Epic Mail reader, I challenge you to participate as well. Gene Simmons already participated, and his result was spectacular.

Read the rules, and get to writing!!

2 4 prez day

2009-02-16T19:30:00.000-05:00

Nice job, Luke. I counter with this:

4 prez day

2009-02-16T13:59:00.001-05:00

oh and eddie... learn how to embed a link.

oheydrbrr

2009-02-16T13:10:00.002-05:00

No, it's not a YouTube video. But close.

http://jbreitling.blogspot.com/2009/02/show-us-yours-13-lubec.html#links

So...

2009-02-04T23:10:00.001-05:00

Can CDO make another damn video so we have something to talk about?

FYI

2009-01-26T22:42:00.003-05:00

I wanted to post this on numerous Facebook walls, but I figured this would be better.

The Semiotics of Plaster: Bathroom Ruminations

2009-01-23T13:00:00.004-05:00

Perched at eye level, and spanning the entire interior walls of our office bathroom, a particular tile molding has slowly etched itself into my consciousness. At first, it seemed innocuous -- a simple, unoffensive pattern meant to add texture to the workplace, and certainly as generic as any other office aesthetic. But after staring directly at this design for about four months now, I've had a revelation: this is the most sexual office bathroom molding I have ever seen.

In retrospect, I'm not sure why it took me so long to realize, but the proof is in the pudding:

Is this sweet?

LOST Message Boards; or, Why You May Have Wasted Your Life

2009-01-22T10:48:00.005-05:00

Today, I was on the Lost Season 5 message boards. No, I will not explain myself. I feel it's important to share some of the users' "signature" pictures, however.

The correct reaction: a proper mixture of getting amped about Lost and extreme discomfort at the thought of sharing a common interest with these people.
Extra points if you initially thought the one with Jack read: "WE HAVE TO DO LUNCH"

Also, I'd humbly recommend joining Team Jack, because once those spots are gone, you'll be stuck on Team Ana Lucia.

NO I FUCKING DIDN'T

2009-01-12T17:32:00.002-05:00

Ha ha, I forgot about this

2009-01-12T17:30:00.002-05:00

News Flash: "Shine" Named Video of the Year

2009-01-12T16:03:00.004-05:00

Yes, it's been confirmed. The New Yorker's Sasha Frere-Jones has declared "Shine" to be the music video of the year. Not that we needed to hear it from the chumps at The New Yorker, as we've been on this story for months at Epic Mail. That said, it's always nice to hear some confirmation from the "real" media. Additionally, his comparison of "Shine" to early ABC is intriguing (anyone who lived in Braxton and remembers all those ABC-fueled dance parties should recall such masterworks as "Poison Arrow"), and not just in terms of guitars, as this photograph of frontman Martin Fry should attest:

Let the conspiracy theorizing begin.

2009 YouTube Roundup

2009-01-12T09:55:00.006-05:00

In the new year, let's try not to ask ourselves, "Hey, I wonder how much of my life I've wasted on youtube watching videos of people crashing four-wheelers?" Mostly because I've done the searching for you.

1.) London Police Shoot Crackhead Robber Dead on his Doorstep!!

Before you get ruffled, let me be clear that this video is fiction, and has only a tenuous relationship with any of the words in its title.

In this video, our British auteur creates a chilling vision of a dystopian future populated with unintelligible clones. The narrative begins with the following summary: "It's the year 2020. There are no more prisons. The police no longer take prisoners.....they just kill suspects! The police death squads are controlled by Inspector Lewis. Undercover officer Leroy Stretch Riggs controls the streets!" What ensues is a movie that strives to take itself seriously, but ultimately remains a badly-shot video of one guy's mouth spiced with old stock footage from some police movies. This is the video I imagine DJ Idris (Stringer Bell) making after he got killed on The Wire. I'm going to attribute the majority of the 333,000 views to the hilariously misleading title.

2.) Brokencyde -- Freaxxx (Music Video)

Brokencyde - Freaxxx (Music Video) from Eat Cake Films on Vimeo.

For the sake of brevity, I will not address the concept of "genre" as it relates to this video. What I would like to point out, however, is the hilarity of the pink-shirt guy who single-handedly redeems this song by screaming at all sorts of inappropriate times. Apparently he also loves screaming into the ears of girls who are nonplussed, but also bored. Also he chokes them sometimes, or something? These suburban 19-year-olds are trying to teach me one thing: I have lived my life all wrong.

3.) Creepy Banana Firework Performance Art Guy

All of the nightmares that collected in the recesses of my brain have been instantly erased by the singular vision of this person's banana-clad face. It's something about that mask underneath the bananas -- so melted, so inhuman.

Self-Aware Metablogging: A Content Analysis of the "Epic Touch"

2009-01-07T15:34:00.022-05:00

As our blog gains both volume and tenacity, I've found myself wondering if our writing styles have begun to bleed into each other. Convinced that, collectively, we use words like "ridiculous" and "inexplicably" in a far higher proportion than the average population, I set out to do a content analysis of all the adjectives and adverbs that we've used so far on the entire blog. Needless to say, this task proved too gargantuan, and was scrapped in its infancy. The concept remained in my head, however. And so, on a particularly slow day at work, I decided to narrow my search to adverbs, which, while perhaps less interesting than adjectives, were much easier to find and catalog (mostly thanks to a document search of "ly"). Even with a technological crutch, compiling this list took me an embarrassing amount of time, and might end up yielding very little substance. But I'm going to SHINE ON anyway.

With that, here are the most commonly used adverbs on our entire blog archives, in descending order (each must have had at least five mentions to make the cut). It's worth noting that I disqualified "only" and "really" from this list.

25 Totally
22 Actually
15 Probably
12 Entirely
11 Simply
8 Seriously
8 Certainly
7 Ultimately
7 Truly
7 Rarely
7 Possibly
7 Decidedly
7 Clearly
7 Additionally
7 Absolutely
6 Surely
6 Particularly
6 Officially
6 Merely
6 Literally
6 Incredibly
6 Importantly
6 Especially
5 Undeniably
5 Recently
5 Inexplicably
5 Apparently

Aside from confirming my suspicion that we have a prodigious vocabulary, what does this list tell us about ourselves? First, as if it comes as any surprise, we use "totally" a lot. It's unclear how many times these "totally"s were followed by "sweet"s, but we'll disregard that for our current analysis. The word "totally," however, fits into a bigger trend in this list of adverbs. I've bolded the words that fit together into a poignant conceptual theme. This revised list gives us a clearer picture of what I consider the "Epic Touch." All of the bolded words, which comprise the majority of this list, emphasize the veracity, totality, and indisputability of things. We at Epic Mail concern ourselves only with the most epic of matters. And, it seems, we often assert facts as well as opinions with emphatic adverbs that might even flirt with hyperbole. And I wouldn't have it any other way. Clearly, we're definitively and surely the most undeniably total and ultimate blog of all time.

And just for fun, here's some of the more ridiculous, if less often used, adverbs that emerged in this research:

ashamedly; bi-semesterly; boorishly; chivalrously; daintily; enchantingly; heart-meltingly; mind-bogglingly; outlandishly; sedulously; semi-professionally

This is but a brief gloss, so I'm looking forward to any secondary analysis that our mailers can provide.

A Guest Epic 10

2009-01-07T15:31:00.001-05:00

As the window for posting these Epic 10 of 2008 lists is fast closing, here is a guest entry, written by James Ryan.

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

10. Titus Andronicus - The Airing of Grievences
If any new musical group of 2008 has epic potential, it is Titus Andronicus. On their debut album they adequately balance bloozy noise rock anthems with lyrics dexterous enough to reference both Bruegel the Elder and Seinfeld without sounding like a complete asshole. Basically if Chris Onstad lead a rock band from New Jersey instead of writing Achewood, his name would be Patrick Stickles.

9. Google - Translator
Me - Crap, that journal article I really needed on the Egyptian response to the Napoleonic invasion only exists on this silly sounding French online journal.
Google - No worries, cuz. I got that.

8. Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull
This reminded me of what an awful set of films The Mummy franchise is/was and reaffirmed for me how much of an awful poser Brendan Fraser is. Somehow, I think society needs reminders of this every year. Say what you will about this film in the canon of Epic Films or even the Indy series, but nobody knows how to make archaeologists (or scientists in general) into EPIC action stars the way Spielberg does.

7. The Dark Knight
I will probably never enjoy a superhero film as much as this. It is, as they say, the gawdfather of the genre.

6. Giants 17 Patriots 14
I hate the Giants. Everyone hates the Patriots. It takes a lot of courage to say this is the greatest football game I've watched live.

5. The Nightman Cometh
In a series of alternately crude and careful games of oneupmanship, the season finale of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia finally brought us Epic writ large on the small screen. In one episode Charlie's character went from quirky and idosyncratic to portraying the true meaning of neurotic, deep, emotional, EPIC FAIL. Really, anyone who has ever had romantic feelings has thought about doing something like this, realized how embarrasing a failure it would be and not done it. The Nightman Cometh brings all those nightmares to its awkward, stumbling, life.

4. Journals 1952-200 - Arthur Schlesinger Jr.
If I could sum up this man's life in three letters it would be FTW. He wrote history books chronicling the Kennedy white house. He was a major political figure without really ever contributing to policy. He totally had the hots for Lauren Bacall. Nixon was his backdoor neighbor. He totally had the hots for the fax machine. He was acquainted with Castro, but not Jimmy Carter. Bill Clinton treated him like the Godfather. Thankfully he left us with 6000 pages of journal entries, 1000 of them his sons have published for us.

3. The Turkish Constitutional Court (Anayasa Mahkemesi)
I owe them. Had it not been for a super savvy Epic decision not to close the ruling AK Parti, I might not have made it back to the US this summer. Perhaps this is underappreciated but since when has a court of law singlehandedly stopped a coup that would have resulted in much gnashing of teeth, wailing and possibly blood?

2. Cats
It's been another big year for felines. They are all over the internets!

1. Sir Edmund Hillary
An Epic man, and Epic accomplishment, an Epic life.

This is what I do at work...

2009-01-06T21:26:00.000-05:00

Epic 10 of 2008: Hot Eatz, Cool Treatz Edition

2009-01-05T21:05:00.012-05:00

See more posts in the "Epic 10" Series

These extra five days have put things into perspective.

It wasn't until I was wasted, cold, and sex crazed in New York City on December 31st, listening to a terrible group rendition of "Auld Lang Syne," that I could even really begin to comprehend that the year was over.

2008 was pretty solid in Eatzville, and here's a few of the reasons why:

Epic Album: 808's and Heartbreak

As the de facto "music guy" on the blog (Only because I haven't posted about anything else, and I've been silent in every major debate on macks and sweetness, despite my intense interest in the subject) I may as well start with this.

First off, stay with me. I'm aware that some Mailers may view Kanye West as "less than Epic," or the fated, "not Epic enough." He's controversial on so many levels. However, if you look at his 808's and Heartbreak from a mainstream American point of view (something that we should all still be concerned with) what you see is rather surprising.

West could have shit out the same symphonic rap for another 4 years if he wanted, he would sell millions, be set for life, and all would be good. However, the dude instead made 808's; a strange, personal, and low-key album of electronic music.

Gone are the lyrically urban hip-hop references and rapping, 808's lines now focus only on emotions. He made subtle and elaborate beats that, like the best electro, borrowed from genres of music that are less than expected. He decided to challenge himself, and his listeners, a rare quality in today's mainstream musical landscape.

Just listen to the immense detail. Check the robotic vocals (autotune and treated vox didn't originate with T Pain, mind you) of "Love Lockdown," combined with legit tribal drumming and imagery. Dig the synthesizers on "Paranoid" that just scream "Bizarre Love Triangle," and British dance music in 1987. Get lost in "RoboCop's" strange mechanical symphony of glockenspiels and sirens. Marvel at the fey new-wave dance keyboards that close out the sad "Coldest Winter," and listen to the bizarre as fuck fusion of My Bloody Valentine-esque guitars, vocal distortion, and r&b on "Street Lights." WAIT, THERE'S MY BLOODY VALENTINE GUITARS ON A KANYE WEST SONG?!!!

If you want a reason why we're seeing a change in the narrative of race in America, that isn't the Obama story, look no further than this.

A world famous rapper is borrowing elements of white avante garde rock music and European IDM, and presenting it in a package that people as diverse as 9 year old inner city girls to non-ironic upper class college dudes can enjoy and relate to simultaneously.

Epic Read: The Rum Diary

This, Hunter S. Thompson's first novel from the early 1960s, wasn't published until 1998. This fact rocks my fucking mind. A modern tragedy!

The Rum Diary is the story of a young American man from Kansas who poses as an accomplished journalist in order to work at a newspaper in the wild, lawless city of San Juan.

Looking for a crazy time so that he may live and feel free, the main character is torn between this and his sense of values and general respect for people. Accordingly, the city of San Juan in the late 1950s serves as a metaphor for the character's own personal dilemma; filled with insane, angry natives the city is becoming further tempered by American industry and tourism.

It's got sweet news room scenes, shady government dealings, sex, and lots of steak eating and alcohol.

Not only is this book sweet as shit (and the catalyst for my recent intense interest in novels regarding desperate young men going on wild sprees of insanity and abandon) but it is the first thing I've ever read where I feel that nearly all of the main character's decisions and actions are the things that I would do as well if I were him. A pleasantly surprising read from a fat writer that wore fishing vests a lot.

Epic Meals: McDonald's Dollar Menu

So unlike most people, who loved McDonald's as children and later realized how gross it was, I am kind of the opposite. I used to think it was gross, now I think it's awesome. Here's why:

2008 will be the year where I was more of a bum than ever before. I was unemployed for 75% of it. I realized the college life was quickly becoming a thing of the past and decided to milk it for all it was worth. I've carved my bank account down to fifteen cents before. The days where my glorious mother and father would replenish the coffers always felt like I had just defied incredible odds of poverty. This year, I got really good at being a bum, but still having my cake and eating it too. Honestly, I'd do it again, it was fun as shit.

The only real reason I got in this predicament was because my priorities were skewed; girls, studio time, hosting parties, and, the most expensive; drinking. To my 22 year old mind, all of these hold precedence over having enough food, doing laundry, and gasoline. So needless to say, my meal budget was never stacked.

On top of this, I'm a terrible eater. I forget to do it until I'm very hungry and then I crave instant satisfaction.

But wait, I just blew all my money on "spirit-of-the-moment" shit thinking it would work out like always! Well it did, in the shape of two glorious golden arches.

A dollar double cheeseburger from this franchise empire may not be the best thing in the world. Hell, usually the cheese isn't even really on the patty, the onions are little squares that might actually be Styrofoam, and you have to drop the twenty two cents for a little packet of sauce just to give it all some flavor.

But on those terrible, low bank account evenings at William and Mary, nothing was better than being able to fill up my growling stomach completely, and only for $3.50. Whenever I do have more cash, I'm never trying to go McDonalds, but like a best friend, it's nice to know there's a place out there that's always got your back.

FUN FACT: In 2008, while nearly every other business imaginable posted major losses due to the growing economic recession, McDonald's posted a 7% profit which analysts attributed to the success and popularity of it's dollar menu.

America, fuck yeah.

Epic Mailer: Brandon Martin

Yeah, yeah, so Edgar Keats and I are self promoting quite a bit. But anyway, I think 2008 was the year that Mr. Keats came into his own as a musician and has utterly blown me away with his abilities and unique voice. Drum power, drum power. He's the only dude that can understand what I am trying to say musically and "get it" right off.

He has the attuned sense of dynamics of any great songwriter.

If 2008 was the year shit started to come together, then I hope that 2009 will be the first real year of Lubec, thanks entirely to this great friend. So many sweet songs to be unleashed!!! oheydrbrrr....

Epic Brew: Orkney Skull Splitter

"Eddie, meet your demise," chirped Chris Tracy, his exaggerated beard and smile only making the impending doom more inviting.

He pushed the red capped bottle across the table. The beautiful Scottish sky behind the legit-looking pale skinned warrior was nothing if not inspiring.

"Alley-oop," I said.

We all know the allure of discount beers. That's why nothing was more enticing than the Green Leafe's half off burger night, with half off micro brew dogz. Before long, Chris and I would down three of the these delicious, robust Scottish 8.5% ABV babies and just be sittin' pretty.

Once spake a dude, "Satiny smooth in the mouth, deceptively light, and dangerously drinkable."

Named after a famous Viking Earl known only to his peasants as "the skullsplitter," headaches were never so tasty.

Epic Activity: Motorcycle License

Look at it. Just look at it. Sexy, retro, performance perfection. Granted the above stallion belongs to my father, but this year, I got to drive it.

This year was the beginning of my lifelong motorcycle love affair, as predicted in Daves n' Daveins' 10th grade ContraBand ode, "Motorcycle Eddie." The license was easy enough given that I've been around it all my these years, but to be able to ride the bike on your own, man! It's a whole new way to experience moving.

Riding a motorcycle is like driving a race car high. Naked. You notice things you would have never imagined you could perceive about speed and scenery before.

I'll always look back fondly on the times in the summer when my dad would follow me in the car, nervous that I would wipe out on his prized possession, as I raced around on Ashland country roads, happier than ever. I will somehow get one. Soon.

Epic Hottie: Britta Phillips

I'm not really one for celebrity crushes. They're unattainable, fake, and lack anything real that you find in a normal average joe or jane. But man, Britta fucking Phillips!!! Dream girl. Total bone zone. Pound Puppy. Ewww.

Move over Kim Gordon, you've been replaced by this sweet voiced slo-core vixen of the late Luna and currently in Dean & Britta with husband Dean Wareham of Luna and Galaxie 500.

Wait.....husband?!?! FuCK!!! IT's PICACHU!!! GOD DAMNIT!!! AAHHHH!!!!

Epic Tool: Moleskine Notebooks

Overpriced, douchey, and really pushing the supposed Hemingway connection, these stupid little fuckers somehow won me over.

Since discovering them this year (late in the game), I've since filled up four with lyrics, future band names, notes, and pictures of stupid shit (I found out I can still draw sweet battleship wars like back in the day). It's nice to have a little organization for it all even if it means I drop $16 dollars for what is essentially a pleather bound set of thin notecards.

Epic Sweetness: Somali Pirates

I'm actually a little surprised that this hot topic of the past year wasn't analyzed for it's sweetness at some point on this blog. I mean, what more could you want?

First off, the Somali pirates don't see themselves as pirates, but rather "the coast guard" of Somalia. They see the real pirates as the international fishers that cruise the waters off of the country and those that take advantage of Somalia's general disarray.

So what do these men do? They capture giant Saudi oil tankers and shipping vessels of other countries and hold them and their crews for ransom!

However, here's where it gets interesting, and where these men become more than just sea shanty terrorists.

The pirates have found that as long as they play it safe and courteous, nobody gets hurt, they get around two million dollars a tanker, and everyone is happy.

Most companies that run these massive ships have found that giving in to the pirates demmands and paying them has turned out to be a lot easier than trying to get the ships back by force.

Also, did I mention that the pirates are the most pimpingest dudes on the planet?!?!

In a recent BBC phone interview with the pirates, the BBC found that the Somali men were huge celcebrites in Somalia and living larger than life.

Robyn Hunter writes, "They wed the most beautiful girls; they are building big houses; they have new cars...Piracy in many ways is socially acceptable. They have become fashionable."

It really is like in a movie, Hunter going on to note that the pirates have an elaborate specialized hierarchy within the group such as dudes with the sea faring knowlege, tech guys who operate all the GPS, and ex-militia men who serve as the muscle of the operation.

Additonally, the pirates have become known for their elaborate drug fueled parties, investment within Somalia and even the act of purchasing nearby islands and turning them into their own industrial and financial centers inviting investors and luxury clothing outlets and other properties.

Did I mention that they also treat the hostages like the most esteemed guests? One gang of pirates hired internationl chefs to specialize in the cuisine of each hostages native country!

Is this sweet?

Sweetness isn't even worthy of defining this.

MOST EPIC SHIT: Bears!!!

The names have been changed. But the story remains true.

The fall break hiking trip in the Shenandoah National Park was a great, relaxing, and beautiful time with close friends and a few people to get to know better. I had gorgeous countryside, brilliant red leaves, and a tent shared only with girls. It was great.

With the majority of navigational responsibilities willingly taken up by Dumbass Fucker, the older boyfriend of our hippie acquaintence Batshit Crazy, the rest of the group could simply relax as the duo checked out the map from time to time to make sure things were cool.

Problem was, neither D.F. or B.C. could actually read a map despite their years of hiking experience. Throughout the trip, the rest of us decided to let it slide.

Unfortunately, I had to leave the group early and hike back to my car, along with B.C. Her boyfriend intensely studied his map, surrounded by the hundreds of dollars of camping gear he had obtained. At a stop near a beautiful valley bridge, he determined the ideal exit for us.

"It'll be about a mile back to your car, only about 500 ft. elevation difference, shouldn't take more than an hour," he said knowingly.

"Awesome, I just want to be sure to get back before dark," I said, still firmly entrenched in my go-with-the-flow, solid bro attitude that I had maintained for the entire trip. I did not notice the black clouds of an impending shit storm brewing overhead.

At 4 PM, the girl and I left the group on our one hour journey back to my car, strategically parked in an all-night convenience store lot. With us, we carried a trash bag of all the leftover refuse of the group. A nice thing to do, we thought. Off we went, excited to rest our legs in the car after an entire day of intense mountain hiking.

However, after an hour, we were forced to come to an unfortunate truth. It would not be a mile back to my car, and we were only then at the foot of one of the largest mountains in the area. We were going to have to climb one of the tallest (highest!) mountains in the middle of the night, to get home.

Time went by slowly. We trudged up the side of the mountain, it's steep angle never flatlining. The girl started to fall behind due to exhaustion and the constant burn in our calves. It was nearly night.

"Let me help you," I said, holding gently onto her arm to help her keep going. "If you need to take a break just say so, it's no problem," I reminded her. Sure this sucked, but I was feeling good about keeping my cool.

More hiking.

After a while the girl whipped out her flashlight, an interesting thing that she wore on a headband. My trusty Mag Light had unfortunately died out the night before, leaving us in the complete dark, on the side of a moutain, with one forehead mounted flashlight.

That's when it happened.

Ten feet infront of us, on the thin, rocky path, a tree began to move with a violence usually reserved for bands of disgruntled foresters.

IT WAS A FUCKING BEAR!!!

The next 30 seconds are insane. Somehow, I immmediately pull out my pocket knife and the old Mag Light from my backpack. I'm brandishing both, ready to bash a bear. Then, I start to do the stupidest thing you can do when you run into a predator. I run. Luckily, right as I start to bolt, the girl begins to talk loudly to me.

"So what are you going to do Eddie, when you get home?!?!," she yells.

Suddenly I realize what's up. Don't move, and talk loudly. That apparently makes bears leave.

"I don't know, I'll probably go to sleep," I yell back, realizing that this girl may have just saved my life.

I notice some movement to my right. Through the moonlight about 20 feet into the woods, a much larger bear is moving slowly. I can see the massive curvature of it's slumped back. The leaves smash underneath it's paws.

For the first time since the ordeal started, I have my first real thought.

"This is just like in a horror movie," I think to myself. I can hear the family of bears moving around us as we remain completely still, talking loudly. I feel like I'm being toyed with before the kill.

After about 30 seconds, we can no longer hear any movement. It's just darkness and our breath. For the first time in my entire life, I'm considering the fact that I might soon die.

We start to move again, much more cautiously than before. I'm scared shitless. Then I realize something. We are still carrying the bag of trash from the campsite. What worse thing could you be carrying around bears than rotten fruit and used soup cans with ravioli paste on the inside?!?!

"We gotta get rid of that bag!," I exclaim. "We've got to!"

"No, we can't, that wouldn't be eco-friendly," she says.

By this time, I'm in complete survival mode, the bears could be anywhere. The bro-ish Hot Eatz of before was no more. My anger at being so misdirected in the darkness by this girl's boyfriend suddenly boils to the surface.

"Wait, what?," I ask, in the inflection of someone who just learned that their mother had in fact been an octopus from space who fucked earthmen.

"I mean, it's not natural, like an apple seed could grow here and it wouldn't be native to the area, we can't be responsible for that," she intones matter of factly.

She was so delusional in her own non-profit eco bullshit that she would rather get stupidly mauled to death by bears than plant a fucking apple tree. Kind of ironic really.

"We're throwing it away!" I yell at her. I step up to her menacingly. In the dark, she suddenly notices the fury in my eyes. I tower over her petite body.

I rip the bag out of her hands and hurl it off the side of the mountain. As the bag falls away, I can barely make out the last vestiges of orange sunlight somewhere in the vicinity of Roanoke.

I turn back to her, even more angry than before. She looks at me in the exact same way as in those old commercials where the Native American Indian cries one single tear as he watches the white men build factories and nuclear power plants.

"Let's fucking go," I scream directly at her.

For the next hour we walk in the darkness, terrified to stay silent, so we continue to make conversation, despite our complete hatred of one another.

We fake conversation for the next twenty minutes, expecting any second for another bear to pop out. I have virtually no light except the scant times that I can use a bit of hers. It was the most terrifying hour of my life.

Soon, our conversation wears out due to exhaustion. I decide to sing some songs to fill in the silence and drive away bears. Problem is, I'm so freaked, I can't remember the words to any songs, except, strangely, the show tunes I learned during my vocal lessons.

I serenade the wildlife of the Shenandoah Valley with the likes of "Some Enchanted Evening," and "I Won't Send Roses." Jesus, if it was my last song, couldn't it have been "Teenage Riot" or some Neil Young or something!?! I COULD HAVE DIED SINGING SHOW TUNES!!! FUCKING SHOW TUNES!!!! THANKS 2 K HATE!!!

The sight of the road through a clearing was the most phenomenal feeling in the world. Nearby is our ticket out of the god foresaken place.

The ride home was pure unadulterated silence.

Honorable Mentions: The Big Take Over Magazine, that sweet night with Dave in the soccer field, blazers and oxford shirts, coach's wife

Got Me?

2009-01-05T19:28:00.002-05:00

In preparation for the Keynote at tomorrow's MacWorld convention, I present this.

Apple Introduces Revolutionary New Laptop With No Keyboard

I'm thinking about LiveBlogging people's LiveBlogs about the Keynote. Would you care to read that?

Happy New Year

2009-01-01T23:58:00.003-05:00

Happy New Year everyone. Anyone have any good new years stories? I'd relate some, but I can't really remember any, except for the fact that I joked about a "bathroom mack" a lot. My friends' macks were all huge, and I wanted to give a big public thank you to Jessica, Gabrielle, and Devan for making sure I didn't die last night.

Newman's Epic 10

2009-01-01T20:34:00.019-05:00

See more posts in the "Epic 10" Series

Epic Hobby - Homebrewing
While I was introduced to the hobby (through OKAYGUYS) a couple years ago, 2008 saw a huge rise in my actually doing it. While I'm still getting my hands around everything (side note: if you ever ferment with oak chips use a muslin bag), brewing your own beer is totally sweet. You enjoy your own beer, understand others better, and have something great to do with buds for a few hours on the weekend. I would warn against a trend I have seen all to often, picking up the hobby and then becoming a complete asshole about it.

Epic Fun Time - The Wii
I got a Wii this year and while I can't blow away zombies in Left 4 Dead, or dig through trash cans in Fallout 3, I can blow away zombies in Resident Evil 4 and break open gourds in Twilight Princess. I don't really do the hardcore gaming I used to, and like having something entertaining to do when friends come over for some drinks. It's just plain fun, though I do maybe plan on buying an xbox anyway.

Epic Nerdlinger - John Hodgman
The PC guy from those Mac commercials had a huge year. Perhaps more digestible by normal folk, he joins Guillermo in the mainstreaming of nerdlingerliness. I've really enjoyed his musings and general approach to thought, though I haven't yet gotten to his latest book. I think the thing I appreciate most is his celebration of his nerddom. He'll never grow up to be a fireman or an astronaut, but he's got his own thing pretty well down pat. Though his ukulele playing is still unsettling.

Epic Brewpub - Piece
Piece brews their own beer, cooks you a pizza, and occasionally hosts Talking Heads tribute bands. It's a deal as long as you don't mind being surrounded by like 30 TVs and some bros from De Paul university. OKAYGUYS and I split and finished a large pizza there. You can also order mashed potatoes, if that's your thing.

Epic Disappointment - The Chicago Cubs
I moved to Chicago two summers ago, and while looking for a job in my apartment, there was no better way to pass the time than watching the Cubs. I've since been to several games at Wrigley, and the atmosphere there is completely contagious. I'd call myself a Cubs fan. As you may or may not be aware, the Cubbies were coming up huge all season. When Fukudome turned out to be total crap, Geo came up with the big plays. When they made it to the post-season however, they played like chumps and lost so huge it didn't make any sense. The only good to come from this is that now I've earned a little clout as a Cubs fan (hey I was there for the 2008 season).

Epic Cookie - The Oatmeal Chocolate Chip
This cookie came up so huge this year. They are ridiculously easy to make, delicious, and stay chewy and delectable for several days after baking. Now I know what you're thinking, but what about oatmeal raisin? Fuck oatmeal raisin. Take out all that fruit nonsense and put in some delicious chocolate. Now you've got a cookie.

Epic Comeback - America
Much like the McRib, America is back. The election has me feeling involved in a way that I haven't since watching 4th of July fireworks at The Diamond while Lee Greenwood blared. I know I'm not the only one swept up in America fever, and that's the whole point.

Epic Discovery - Technology
I'd like to place into this category the explosion of stuff I acquired/downloaded/got involved in this year, and it's starts with the iPhone. Which in turn got me downloading podcasts. I now write for a blog, soon I'll have nano-robots swimming in my bloodstream. I know these things have been around for a while now, but I wasn't using them, and now that I am it's not so bad. I'll probably eat my words later when I'm a slave to the cyborg armada, forced underground to mine the crystals they eat for energy.

Epic Band (non-fictitious) - The Pains of Being Pure at Heart
It's as though someone took My Bloody Valentine and stopped their musical development at Sunny Sundae Smile. Despite having a name that sounds like it was invented by 13 year-olds who stole their older sister's Joy Division tape, Pains brings twee pop to the next level in a way that doesn't really change much about it to begin with.

Epic Beverage (non-beer) - The Highball
Highballs can be made a couple ways, my favorite is Bourbon and Ginger ale. Again I will point to its ease of making and subsequent deliciousness. I used to make them for my grandma every now and then, but hadn't really explored it myself. Now I have, and can say, she was really on to something.

Edgar Keats' Epic 10

2008-12-30T17:35:00.034-05:00

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So the new year approaches. Tomorrow I will wake up early and make my yearly trek to Hollywood cemetery and contemplate the year that is about to end on a deep level. But today is all about the tangible, the trivial, and the Epic.

Epic Tube- Who's That Poke'mon?

There is a criticism that Epic Mail has become nothing more than a repository for idiosyncratic YouTube videos. I answer those critics with this:

It is true that I have previously posted this ridiculous video to Epic Mail. I'm posting it again because I love it so much. Of the roughly 1,152,000 views it has registered, it would not surprise me if I were responsible for a small fraction. Truthfully, 2008 was a year in which I watched many Poke'mon videos on YouTube, and I found more than a few of them simply hilarious. My girlfriend is very confused by my obsession with online Poke'mon videos, and I must admit that I am too. I never watched the show, never played the card game, the video games, or saw any of the movies. My mysterious connection to online Poke'mon videos was born in 2008, and hopefully 2009 will see it mature.

Epic Read: The Complete Sherlock Holmes

In the last month of any given year I am bombarded by end of the year best of lists. These lists are often filled with albums I haven't listened to, films I haven't seen, and video games I was completely unaware of. But the list that usually fills me with the most regret is the best-of book list. As much as I love reading, I rarely read more than four or five books a year.

But this year is different. Excluding audiobooks, I only really read one book this year. And I have no regrets whatsoever. About a year ago, when I still worked at Barnes & Noble, I stumbled across a beautif ul leather-bound publishing of the Complete Sherlock Holmes. I stared in shock at it's relatively low $20 price tag. I had to have it. In 2008 I went along with Holmes and Watson for a Study in Scarlett, I pieced together the mystery of the Speckled Band, and I bit my nails as Holmes faced his arch-nimesis, the evil genius Professor Moriarty. Sorry I didn't get to A Thousand Splendid Suns this year, but I have no regrets.

Epic Road Trip: The Civil Wargasm 2K8
In mid July I hastily embarked upon a trip to Gettysburg. Invites were sent, accepted, and subsequently rescinded. When all was said and done, only myself, my brother Jordan, and my esteemed

colleague Matt Sherrill were left to embark upon this adventure.

We pushed north in my rickety subcompact and enjoyed 24 hours of camping, history, Tim & Eric quotations, hat changes, photo competition, sober campfire ghost stories, bro stories, and so much more. Look alive, because the Civil Wargasm 2K9 is coming down the pike. This year's Civil Wargasm is far more epic in scope, harkening back to the Civil Wargasms roots as a crash course Civil War immersion trip, as described in the fantastic book Confederates in the Attic.

Epic Tunes- A Sampling Of My Favorite Tunes Of 2008

I've never been one for talking about music in any in-depth sort of way. My approach to music is much like kids' approach to Apple Jacks- I listen to what I like. Here is what I liked in 2008:

Epic 10

Epic Show: Broken Social Scene @ Toad's Place

2008 was an epoch year of concerts for me. With the opening of both the National and Toad's Place, I no longer had to drive an hour and a half east to Norfolk or two hours north to Washington to see a band, but merely 15 minutes west to downtown Richmond. These new venues brought many great acts to Richmond who, in years past, would have skipped over Fist City. Bands I had the pleasure of seeing this year in Richmond included The National (at the National, har har), Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band, Built to Spill, Okkervil River, and Broken Social Scene. Broken Social Sce ne delivered a truly Epic show at Toad's Place, and one of my more memorable concert experiences. The band fed of off the unusually enthusiastic Richmond crowd, and delivered a set that can be best described as Springsteen-esque. With the running time approaching three and a half hours, the band ended their set seemingly because they had run out of songs to play.

Epic Pay Raise- New Job

Perhaps the most exciting thing that happened to me personally this year was landing a new job. A year ago I was working as a teaching assistant in a Henrico County Public School class for children with autism in grades 3-5. I also worked some evenings and every Saturday at Barnes & Noble. While I enjoyed working with the children in the class, I was starting to become terribly bored with the job. The position's meager salary compelled me to work at Barnes & Noble, a retail job I had grown to loathe. I felt stuck in a rut, until a job posting for a position in the County's Technology department came to my attention. Securing glowing letters of reccomendation from my various supervisors, I applied. After a less than stellar interview, I became convinced the job was lost. But, lo and behold, the next day, to my amazement (and frankly, confusion) I was offered the position in the Technology Department. With the job came a dramatic increase in salary, responsibility, and freedom, along with the financial stability to be able to quit Barnes & Noble And while my enthusiasm for my job has dulled somewhat over the past few months, I still recall the moment I was informed of my selection as a high point of 2008.

Epic Meal- Filet Mignon @ Kabutos

Epic Mail rarely delves into the culinary world. But every now and then a meal comes along that is so succulent, so decadent, so deliciously Epic that it merits mentioning.

The occasion was my birthday. My girlfriend Hayley joined my family around the giant hibachi grill, and I was full of anticipation and saliva. There was the salad with the mind-bogglingly delicious ginger dressing, the comparatively lackluster watery soup with the mushrooms, and then there he was, the hibachi chef. I sat mesmerized as he practiced his fiery vegetable magic, engaged us with his wonderfully wry hibachi humor, and defied death as his razor sharp cutlery became an extension of his body. When all was said and done, a simmering mound of vegetables, rice, and, most importantly, tender filet mignon sat in front of me. I ate slowly, savoring each and every bite, letting the flavors dance across my quivering pallate. And then, it was finished, digesting in my greatful stomach. Spent, I leaned back in my chair, and asked Hayley is she was planning on finishing hers.

Epic Self-Promotion- Lubec

2008 saw the rise of Lubec, a music project I am part of along with Mr. Hot Eatz. A year ago, Hot Eatz and I were joined by our colleagues Quilliam and Daves N' Davin' at Sound of Music studios here in Richmond to record a few songs. After much remixing, the desired results were achieved, and the songs are something we can all be proud of. It was a sublime pleasure to be able to play music this year with Hot Eatz and all who joined us. In 2009 I look forward to creating more music, and playing more shows.

Epic Change- Decision '08

Often times we at Epic Mail ask ourselves "is this sweet?" When asking myself the question "was the election in 2008 sweet?" I can only offer an unequivocal and forceful "YES!"

At this point, the fact that Barack Obama will be our next president has set in. But from time to time, I still find myself saying "holy shit, how did this happen?" I know its been said enough to become a cliche' of sorts, but on election day, I was truly proud to be an American, as well as a resident of the former capital of the Confederacy, who went for their first democrat since 1964.

Epic Blog- Epic Mail

2008 saw the birth of the most exciting blog to come along in years- Epic Mail. Started in mid September by my most esteemed colleague Coaltrain, Epic Mail began small, but soon exploded with briliant posts exploring the American psyche. Epic Mail soon became a place for starved children of the internet age to go for nourishment. Where else can you go for an in-depth analysis of Chris Dane Owens' briliant video for "Shine On Me?" Where else can you go to read 8bit's charming, self deprecating remarks? Where else can you find an exploration of the notion of "Sweet," or take part in evaluating Chi City Man's mack? You can only find these, and many, many more topics at Epic Mail. Thank you so much for reading, and stay tuned for 2009, a year that stands to be, in a word, Epic.

An Epic Christmas Gift!

2008-12-24T13:26:00.005-05:00

Well folks, we've done it again! We present to you the Contra Band's seventh Christmas album entitled "No Christmas While You're Luke." Here's a link to download your copy today!

A few of our contributors (including myself) are/were members of The Contra Band. What started as a high school band has now become an annual gathering of friends with the expressed purpose of recording a Christmas album. As I've already noted, this album is the seventh Christmas album in the collection.

In truth, this year's album almost didn't happen. First off, Luke bailed. Second, Brandon informed us that he no longer had a bass drum. And third, as Eddie and I sat in Chipotle eating our respective burritos, we found out that Brandon was stuck in traffic on I-95 in Northern VA. Eddie and I began speculating on what kind of sound we wanted to have on this album, or perhaps it is more appropriate to say what kind of sound we COULD get on this album. We decided to do something a little different than usual. Instead of writing grandiose, post-rock jams coupled with absurd pop ramblings, we opted for minimalism and brevity as our guiding musical ideas. Fortunately (for us and the album) Brandon did end up arriving on time and his presence is felt on the tracks to which he contributed.

Anyways, I speak for everyone here at Epic Mail when I wish you an Epic Christmas! Stay tuned for more Epic 10's later this week and next week.

Quilliam's Epic 10 of 2008

2008-12-22T15:12:00.016-05:00

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10. Epic Time Vacuum -- Fallout 3

Set in the future, post-apocalyptic ruins of Washington, D.C. and surrounding suburbs, Fallout 3 is my ideal video game, and one of the few things that makes living with my parents tolerable. Within the first few hours of playing, I had trekked through the crumbling metro tunnels of Dupont Circle, blasting ghouls, only to happen upon a cult of mutated vampires who tried to convince me to join their ranks. Awesome. I tend to look at Fallout as less of a game than as a "dry-run." This game got me into such a post-apocalyptic mindset that when my friend casually mentioned that she had a case of bottled water in her trunk, my first thought was, "Pure water... so valuable. How can I steal it?" I'm not sure how to convincingly argue that digging through every single virtual garbage bin, rusted container, and overturned vending machine for scraps of irradiated food is fun, but trust me -- it's amazing. If you're still not convinced, then don't come begging for help when the bombs start to fall.

9. Epic Quotables -- The Beaver Boys

I approached this video as a skeptic, as I usually do for everything that Matt tries to introduce into my life. But the epic charm of these Tim and Eric characters soon broke down any barriers I had put up between myself and their intellectual wares. They preach a simple gospel: shrimp, and white wine. And the occasional Richardson Richardson. Are they from Jersey? Are they gay? Does half-digested shrimp and white wine really look like pepto-bismol? Constantly quoting from this video almost lost me several friends and a relationship.
DILLY, HE'S LOOKIN' REAL FINE, DIPPINHISSHRIMP INTOABITOFWHITEWINE

8. Epic Remix -- The Hipsterrunoff Remix of "Nude"

This song is the only worthwhile thing that came out of Radiohead's remix contest. Carles, author of the blog Hipsterrunoff, created a hilariously irreverent track. Halfway through the contest, it was winning by a wide margin of votes, but eventually succumbed to Holy Fuck. If only the world knew their loss.
"I'll never forget the day that the drummer from Metallica shut down Napster."
"My favorite album of the 1990s was In Rainbows, by Radiohead."

7. Epic Film -- Primer

Made on a budget of $7,000, Primer unexpectedly turned out to be my favorite movie in 2008. The basic premise is that two young engineers accidentally build a time machine, and then go nuts with it. Though time travel movies are often categorized as "science fiction," this film comes across as a more serious, plausible story. The dialogue is fast-paced, technical, and parses out just enough information to make the audience do some work. Having seen it several times, I still have only a tenuous grasp of the actual plot points -- but somehow it makes the experience more enjoyable. After a viewing, Primer had myself and a few friends crowded around a piece of paper trying to illustrate our theories using absurd diagrams that involved a lot of arrows and stick figures, and asking questions like, "So, if I went back in time to kill my third double, but the second double gets into a new box, what happens to my current self?" Primer is a big puzzle that will keep you up at night -- beautifully shot, vaguely menacing, and bizarrely enticing.

6. Epic Radio -- NPR
Yes, I had listened to NPR before 2008 -- but in 2008 I have a regular commute to work. And during that commute, NPR is a lifesaver. This praise comes with the notable exception of Harry Shearer's "Le Show," which is the worst thing to ever happen to radio since the invention of television.

5. Epic Lunch -- The "Bruce Springsteen" Panini
As a regular working stiff, I understand the importance of a delicious lunch to properly rejuvenate before returning to the salt mines. And so I was ecstatic to discover this sandwich at my favorite Doylestown lunch spot, Lilly's. I can say, without hesitation, that the Bruce Springsteen is the best sandwich I've had in my entire life. It's fortunate that I recently learned to love the song "Born to Run," because otherwise I would never have paid money for something with The Boss's name attached. I have some suspicion about the patriotism of Lilly's management, however, since the constituent ingredients of the Bruce Springsteen are arguably un-American, and decidedly un-working-class. I'll let you be the judge:

Grilled chicken, provolone cheese, fire roasted peppers and baby spinach with balsamic vinaigrette on grilled sourdough.

4. Epic Brewery -- Russian River

The two best beers I've had all year are courtesy of Russian River, out in California: Blind Pig IPA and Pliny the Elder, a double IPA. They inexplicably appeared on tap at my local suburban-drunk sports bar, and the bartender always seems a bit confused when I order them. This beer is so good that I almost don't mind the ridiculous Chimay chalice it's served in. I say almost, because that stupid cup draws a lot of suspicious stares from under the hunting-caps of said suburban drunks, who probably think I'm "one of the gays."

3. Epic Fictitious Band -- Crucifictorius

Yes, Landry's rock band in the Friday Night Lights television series. The more the writers develop Landry's character, the more we get to see this fantastic band. Their music might suck, but the band embodies everything that's totally sweet about the concept of Landry. And in the most recent season, he's been working the "band mack" for all it's worth. Additionally, Crucifictorius gave us the debut of two new characters, both of whom have nothing to do with football: the lesbian bass player -- totally sweet; and the unnamed drummer dude -- totally sweet. Unlike Driveshaft, a similarly great fictitious band that met an early demise, Crucifictorius is just getting started. I already give their debut album a 9.8.

Honorable FNL mention -- Saracen's Mom (totally sweet)

2. Epic Album -- Cut Copy -- In Ghost Colours

I understand if you haven't had time to stop listening to the Fuck Buttons, Fucked Up, and Holy Fuck albums on repeat, simultaneously -- but before the year closes I highly recommend giving "In Ghost Colours" a chance, because these slick dudes from Australia have released the best album of 2008 (go buy some shaving cream, Fleet Foxes). Cut Copy achieves the perfect blend of pop, dance pop, and rock pop. Did I mention pop? Their music is soaked with unashamed optimism. Almost without exception, their songs can be classified into these four categories: songs about hearts; songs about ghosts; songs about dreams; or songs about love. And sometimes dreams about ghosts, or loving dreams, or ghosts with hearts. Having spent the better part of my youth listening to Thom Yorke screech about riot police, paranoia, and car wrecks, it's a nice breath of fresh air. If nothing else, Cut Copy has ensured that Australia will crush France in the impending Electrowars, and will rule gasoline-powered iPods in the post-electro-fallout wasteland that will follow.

1. The most epic thing of all time (in 2008) -- "Undefeatable"

This video is the most epic thing I've seen in my entire lifetime.
And yes the movie is actually called "Undefeatable."

I have so much to say about this video. Words almost seems fruitless in the face of such visual grandeur. I had a whole essay prepared about the mechanics of the fight and the underlying homoerotic/heterosexual messaging contained within, but it seems more appropriate to let it speak for itself. If nothing else, make sure you watch the last 20 seconds of this video -- I believe it contains a potentially explosive future catchphrase. After the villain is hoisted up to the roof of a warehouse via a meat hook in his eye socket, our heroes let the puns fly:
Girl: "Keep an eye out for ya, Stingray."
Dude: "Yeah. SEE YA."

Everything -- the context, the emphasis, the stupid look on his face. It's perfect. SEE YA.
Here's to another glorious blog year.

OKAY GUYS! My Epic Ten.

2008-12-21T22:06:00.010-05:00

See more posts in the "Epic Ten" series.

Prefatory Remarks:

A few weeks ago, Dave's initial post unveiling the "Epic 10" concept led me somewhat improbably to the website of the "Fuck Buttons," who appear to be a British duo that makes buzzy droning sounds with two chords and is frequently lauded by critics as something edgy and brilliant (it sounds to me like music for teenagers that want to like Brian Eno but find themselves implacably bored by actually listening to Music for Airports and furthermore think that Eno neither used anywhere close to enough distortion nor screamed hysterically as often as he should have. Actually, the more I listen to this band [I am, regrettably, doing so as I write this] the more I want to write an entire piece on just how incredibly awful this is. Additionally, what is a Fuck Button? Why do I feel an uncontrollable urge to push one and see what happens?). The point is, Dave's off-the-cuff reference made me realize the extent to which 2008 was a year in which I felt particularly out of touch with the cultural zeitgeist, at least that of well-educated, progressively-inclined white 20-somethings (though the Fuck Buttons make me feel strangely comfortable with the fact). Isolated in my parent's house and later in New Jersey, I spent 2008 delving deeper and deeper into midwestern jangle pop bands of the mid to late 80's, the unabashed snobbery and elitism of craft brewing culture, the English ghost story of the late 19th century, largely forgotten British sitcoms of the late 90's and early 00's, and other relatively arcane pursuits such as I am wont to delve into when left to my own devices. In many ways, then, Epic Mail has proved an invaluable link to the world of pop culture. Other than my time spent scowling at preposterous-looking hipsters in Williamsburg bars, this is my main link to "kids" who are "with it." As such, I really have no idea if my list will appear aloof, disconnected, or even provincial. That having been stipulated, however, I am largely unapologetic and often downright passionate about what follows, my EPIC 10 of 2008:

Honorable Mentions: Friday Night Lights, Jolly Pumpkin Artisan Ales, Fallout 3, the Wilfully Obscure music blog

10. Epic Conversationalist: Stephen Metcalf

For those of you who aren't rabid consumers of the Slate.com family of podcasts, Metcalf's name might be unfamiliar. He rarely writes for the site anymore, but is instead a regular participant in the Culture Gabfest and the Audio Book Club, both of which I heartily recommend. Despite the fact that I have absolutely no idea how scripted or plotted these podcast "conversations" are, Metcalf strikes me as one of the most fabulous talkers I've heard in a long while. There is so much about him that I find compelling - his prodigious vocabulary, his ability to spontaneously craft beautifully complex sentences, his considerable knowledge of all things cultural - he has a certain panache that I find heart-meltingly irresistible. I even have a recurring daydream in which I'm invited to a most fashionable cocktail party populated entirely by Stephen Metcalf facsimiles (though I've never seen a picture, he's always devastatingly handsome in these reveries). It's my own private vision of heaven.

9. Epic Nerdlinger: Guillermo Del Toro

I think 2008 may have seen more of a Del Toro backlash than anyone else. Following the arty aspirations (maybe) of Pan's Labyrinth, this year marked his return to a more sci-fi fanboy aesthetic of filmmaking, one that probably turned off as many fans as it excited (tangentially, has anyone notice how closely he sometimes resembles the Comic Book Guy in The Simpsons?). But as anyone who actually saw Hellboy 2 ought to attest, as a comic-book-adapted adventure starring the cigar-chomping spawn of Satan, the movie is really fucking good. In particular, his films do more to inspire the sense of wonder and awe that seemed to be exorcised from America movie-going about 20 years ago than any other contemporary filmmaker. Though I don't think the sequel was as strongly written as the first, the sheer quantity of sweet things in this movie more than makes up for it. I'm glad he's here to take pretension down a notch, and remind us all of the legitimacy and value inherent in the imaginative and the fantastic. I also partake of wonderfully geeky delight in the rumors that he will be directing an adaptation of H.P. Lovecraft's At the Mountains of Madness.

8. Epic Pundit: Glenn Greenwald's blog at Salon.com

I love this man. One of the most thoughtful, articulate, and intellectually honest journalists on the web, Greenwald spent much of 2008 delivering a much-needed thrashing to the major media outlets in this country, accusing them of lazy reportage, a lack of intellectual rigor, and general complicity with some of the most egregious offenses of the Bush Administration. Greenwald has been particularly eloquent in his discussions about torture, the clusterfuck at the Justice Department, and domestic spying, but the most effective aspect of his work will always be his media critiques. As the incoming Obama crew ponders the fate of the various goons and thugs in the administration who have clearly committed criminal offenses during Bush's tenure, and most mainstream media outlets continue to ignore this fact (though there are glimmerings of hope at the Times), we need people like Greenwald to remind our less esteemed journalists of troublesome bits of news, like the fact that we've systematically dismantled every facet of the Geneva Convention. You know, along with the news that Joe Biden just bought, like, a totes cute puppy.

7. Epic Aristocrat: Edith Wharton

She's Henry James for people who like plot, or something like that. I don't know what inspired me to pick up The House of Mirth this spring, but I was delighted and surprised to discover a novelist who defied almost all of my preconceptions. Her attitude towards her upper-crust protagonists is far more ambiguous than elegiac, her sense of psychology and interiority is nuanced rather than dimly reflective of the Master, and she only dips into melodrama occasionally (anyone who has made it through Mirth's maudlin ending knows what I mean). The real treat, however, with Wharton is The Age of Innocence, which immediately won a place on my short list for Favorite Novel Ever. Suffice it to say that I embarrassed myself thoroughly by crying through the last two pages on the DC Metro. Edith Wharton won me over so completely, in fact, that I made a trip to Lenox, Massachusetts this autumn to visit The Mount, her majestic country house that is now in a state of fairly sorry disrepair, but still well worth the trip, if only to fiddle with the bathtub in the Henry James Guest Suite.

6. Epic Subculture: 1st Annual Savor festival

In what I hope will become a DC tradition, the first ever Savor beer festival was held in late Spring, and I was fortunate enough to receive a ticket as a gift (they were something like $75). I'm pretty sure that Savor was the biggest beer event ever held in the US in terms of participating breweries or something, and it was truly awe-inspiring. I was able to attend a small beer-cheese pairing session with Garrett Oliver of Brooklyn Brewery (who seemed nice but comes across as a complete dick in a recent New Yorker article), tell an amusing anecdote to Sam Calagione of Dogfish Head as he poured me a World Wide Stout, and discuss the finer points of puking with Rob Tod of Allegash. The only minor hang-up was towards the end of the evening, when I became, for whatever reason, intent on being a part of some guy from Stone's video blog (alas, it was not to be). Every major player in the craft brewery was present, and I found myself reduced to a puddle of goo in front of luminaries like Adam Avery and Tomme Arthur. I've heard that Savor is making a return for 2009, and I strongly urge anyone who cares about beer culture to attend.

5. Epic Tragedy: David Foster Wallace

I always looked slightly askance at the type of person who secured a conspicuous spot on their bookshelf for a copy of Infinite Jest. For years it seemed to signify a certain type of cultural capital that was decidedly smug, and I harbored (and still do) deep suspicions that the majority of the people to whom I refer never made their way through the massive tome. It was primarily this notion of book-as-mark of distinction that made me fairly uninterested in David Foster Wallace's writing (I also used to get him confused with the hack-ish Bret Easton Ellis, so that wasn't particularly helpful either). Thus, having read only his "Consider the Lobster" essay prior to his suicide this year, I was surprised to find myself remarkably affected by his death. I promptly purchased his two collections of essays, Consider the Lobster and A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again (the title essay of the latter being my favorite) and have spent much of the last few months making my way, in many instances several times, through these writings, which are as consistently hilarious and penetrating as they are warm and big-hearted. I still have not tackled Infinite Jest, but the essays have been more than enough to convince me that neither I nor the general public has yet fully appreciated the enormity of our loss.

4. Epic Spookfest: House of Leaves by Mark Danielewski

Never has my consciousness been so fully consumed by one fearful obsession than during a week in late January, when I read (that word seems decidedly inadequate, perhaps something like "gave myself up to" would be more accurate - actually no, because that implies agency on my part) House of Leaves. Never have I been so terrified of a physical object, let alone a book, than I was those fateful few wintry days. It got to the point where I couldn't be in the same room with the text if I was not actively reading it, but then found myself "checking on it" every so often, to make sure it hadn't moved about on its own, or done something even more sinister. I forced myself to bring it to school and keep it on my lectern (to the great confusion of my students), so that I could keep an eye on it. And to this day, the very sight of it on my bookshelf, sitting in mocking insouciance nestled between James Fenimore Cooper and Robertson Davies, sends a current of fleeting terror through my veins (sidenote: I've discovered this year that it's a cult classic among graduate students in English - it's like being in a cool secret club, but one whose admission requires you to endure some incredibly traumatic hazing). Quite easily the finest horror novel I've ever read, I'd recommend it only if one takes very, very seriously into account R.L. Stine's classic admonition, "Reader beware, you're in for a scare."

3. Epic Filth: New Jersey

The degree to which my imminent move changed the tenor of my summer might be more familiar to my friends in the DC area, but believe me, it was extraordinary. For whatever reason, the whole concept of me moving to Jersey ("JOY-zee"), became, in many ways, a centerpiece of DC weekends. Jager bombs, unprovoked Bon Jovi sing-alongs, horrifically obnoxious and frighteningly accurate imitations of Jersey accents, the constant referring to non-existant "Tony"s and ziti-baking "mothas," it was truly bizarre, and in many ways, beautiful. My Jersey enthusiasm waned a bit, admittedly, after I actually began living there, but I'm still constantly surprised and bemused by the sheer absurdity of life in the Garden State. Consider how incredibly weird this is: there are things called "Grease Trucks" at Rutgers, which sell sandwiches called (only somewhat unofficially) the "Fat Bitch" and the "Fat Dyke." I'm dead serious. This sort of thing happens. All in all, there's only one thing to ask concerning my great state: "Is this sweet?" And only one response: "Kind of. Actually, yes."

2. Epic 1 A.M. Broadcast: Tim and Eric Awesome Show Great Job

Something like the funniest nightmare you've ever had, Tim and Eric Awesome Show was directly responsible for 50% of the jokes I made over the course of the year. Actually I don't even think you could call rote repetition of nonsensical phrases or pathetic and half-recollected imitations of sketches jokes, but I found it hilarious anyway. Now through their third season, Tim and Eric might actually be getting more bizarre. Anyone who sat through the "Business Hugs" or "Child Showcase" sketches knows what I'm talking about. And for those of you who don't (and I pity you), I think I've heard the show described as cable access from hell, or something to that effect. I also think the Wikipedia page, in a marvelously felicitous phrase, calls it "surreal comedy." It's the kind of singular program that makes you want to laugh, puke, and get obscenely high all at the same time (though it is too often dismissed as stoner comedy). Salame, Salame.

AND

1. Epic Discovery: The "Great Outdoors"

2008 was the year in which I feel asleep to the howling of wolves, learned to identify common birds by their songs, bathed in mountain streams, read Walden no less than three times, stood stark naked on a precarious rock overlooking a snowy canyon, discovered the fledgling field of ecocriticism, coated my feet in duct tape to prevent blisters, spent an entire languorous afternoon observing waterfowl at play on a lonely river, confronted several bears without incident, thought I was going to die of thirst in the deserts of Montana, purchased more field guides than I could ever have use for, promised myself that I'd improve at tree identification, stumbled upon an obscure valley filled with wildflowers more redolent than I could have ever imagined, and all in all developed a passion for wild spaces that will be with me for the rest of my life. Number one. Absolutely uncontested.

The obvious omission in this list, of course, is our own little blogging enterprise (it would have been terribly predictable). But let me say that as Epic as 2008 proved itself to be, I have high hopes that 2009 will be even more so. To use an analogy from classical epic, it is as though we've gotten through all the tiresome wanderings in the first half of the Odyssey, and we're only now getting to the part where Odysseus slaughters the living fuck out of all those sniveling suitors. And so, with this two-fold sanguinity in mind, I wish everyone a splendid holiday season and the happiest of New Years.

Epic 10: Daves n' Davin' in 2008

2008-12-20T08:53:00.024-05:00

See more posts in the "Epic Ten" series.

Here's the first installment of Epic Mail's Epic 10 of 2008. More to come!

10. Epic Dance Song I Never Played at a Dance Party: "Green Light" by John Legend

Everytime I saw this video on television I liked it more. Andre 3000 can be a bit of a smug bastard in this video with his often bizarre (but not in a Lil Wayne bat shit crazy way) rap similies like "I got you gigglin' like a piglet." The song is ALL chorus but it doesn't need anything else - the beat keeps pumping and the people keep moving. The dancing in this video may have a large part to do with why I always wanted to play this at a party. Everyone is losing their minds by the end of the video yet they are also oddly synchronized. Anyways, I was too embarrassed to ever bust this song out a dance party although, after talking with Luke, I feel like I probably should have. This video also offers great fodder for another "Evaluate the Mack" post. Andre 3000's mack does not seem be going well at all mid-way through but then he suddenly appears in the girl's drink and comes up huge. What the hell did he do? Is this a metaphor for slipping her a rufie?

9. Epic Answer to the insipid party question "So what are you up to now?": Teaching ESL to a Buddhist Monk

So this fall I volunteered to teach ESL at my local immigration/refugee center and I was assigned a 31 year old Buddhist monk refugee from Myanmar who was staying at a Cambodian Temple in Mechanicsville, VA. As a religious studies major I jumped at the opportunity. Two things were a bit disappointing, however: 1) the Temple was really just a house 2) the monk had to learn English before we could have my imagined "cultural exchange." As unglamorous as the activity proved to be, it was the ultimate party conversation topic. Everyone immediately said, "What? Really? That's so cool!" It helped me feel less pathetic about my "year off to apply to graduate school" and it scored me major mack points. Sadly, Sit Kah moved to San Diego a few weeks ago and I am back to having nothing interesting to say at parties.

8. Epic Discovery: Blueberries
Maybe I had a traumatic childhood experience with the berry or perhaps Eddie howled "Booooooberry" one too many times but for whatever reason I had a mental aversion to blueberries for the first twenty one years of my life. 2008, however, was the year of the blueberry. I didn't make a conscious decision to force-feed myself blueberries until I liked them (i.e. the "Summer of Tea"); it was more gradual. By the time the summer rolled around I realized that I really enjoyed this new-found fruit. The fourth of July marked the height of my obsession when Sarah Ruth made a mind-blowing, tastebud-gasm-ing blueberry cobbler for dessert. I lost it. It might have been the six or seven PBRs doing most of the talking but the gushing praise and happiness that followed the first bite was completely genuine. I'm breaking family tradition this year and requesting blueberry pie for Christmas dinner. Apple pie has got to go - change has come.

7. Epic Disappointment / Epic Surprise: Coldplay beats Tokyo Police Club

Last January, the album I was most pumped about was the full-length from Tokyo Police Club. Their seven-song EP A Lesson in Crime was incredible and had been the soundtrack to my summer. The newest single seemed only to hint at a better album to follow. However, their new production and atrocious Death Cab vocal affect made me embarrassed to admit my previous obsession with their music. "Tessellate" proved to be too catchy to resist but even then it felt more like a guilty pleasure. Coldplay, on the other hand, had quite the opposite trajectory. There was not an album I was less excited about than Viva La Vida. But by June I could not stop myself from downloading the title track and chanting "Woah oh OOOOOH ah oooooh!" at the top of my lungs. Chris Martin's insistence on donning his multi-colored arm bands and acting a fool in video and on SNL, while at times made me cringe, was ultimately endearing. It's cool (or at least acceptable) to like Coldplay again - who would have thought?

6. Epic Read: Rapture Ready! by Daniel Radosh

2008 proved to be the year that I discovered early twentieth century modernist literature (Woolf, Joyce, Proust) but I won't put on any pretensions as a literary critic in this post. I'm going to stick to what I know best: weird shit about contemporary Christianity. Rapture Ready! came out in 2008 and is an engaging, even-handed exploration of the world of contemporary Christian pop culture. Radosh is a Jewish journalist from New York City so he has plenty of "you gotta be kidding me" moments throughout his journey into this often insular counter-culture. Many of the things he found even surprised me. Who knew that there was Christian pro-wrestling or a Christian rave scene? However, in addition to these puzzled observations, Radosh also treats his subjects with a surprising degree of respect. He does not try to expose the bizarre behavior of religious fanatics and put it on display. Instead, he paints a complex and human portrait of a religious culture that is earnest in its attempt to make religion feel relevant to people's lives. He grants them their opinion and, when it is appropriate, he engages the various communities he encounters, pointing out contradictions and inevitable implications. A great read for Christian and secular alike!

5. Epic Obsession: Podcasts

Necessity is the mother of obsession. During the fall I started working a job that requires me file paperwork for eight hours a day. Faced with this epic boredom, I asked my boss if I could bring in my iPod. To my surprise she said yes. Podcasts became my savior. I now had the time to listen to all the podcasts that I was incapable of listening to in college. I became a junkie, listening to Fresh Air, All Songs Considered, This American Life, Slate, the New Yorker, the Economist, New York Times Book Review, Radiolab, the Moth... the list goes on. Terry Gross became my very first VILF (Voice I'd Like to Fuck) and Bob Boilen became my older uncle who tries so hard to stay hip but never seems to be able to hit the mark. In the absence of my college friends I had the voices of public radio to keep me company and to remind me of my humanity. Thanks, NPR.

4. Epic New TV Series Obsession: Friday Night Lights

It seems like every summer I have a new TV series obsession. Three years ago I watched all six seasons of Six Feet Under in a month. Two years ago I got into Lost. This summer I decided to start watching the critically acclaimed but commercially unsuccessful Friday Night Lights on NBC. Too many humid summer nights were spent in the attic I was living in at the time, drinking cheap beer and watching episode after episode of the Dillon Panthers in action. I noticed that the show slowly started seeping into my life. I began asking myself at parties, "WWRD?" (What would Riggins do?). I began going to bars with Luke with the expressed purpose of eating wings, drinking beer, and watching "the game." Even though the third season was broadcast exclusively on DirectTV, the power of the internet allowed me to keep up with the team this fall. Despite the abrupt ending of season two, I feel that the third season is living up to seasons 1 and 2. The drama is as intense as ever, the camera still shoots in a cinéma vérité style, Saracen continues to charm the ladies with his cute-dumb-guy mack, Riggins might go collegiate, and I still want to get with any of the women on the show - especially the coach's wife. If you didn't check out the series this year, do yourself a favor and watch the first few episodes.

3. Epic Live Show: Fleet Foxes, Washington D.C. 10/3/08

It would be repetitive and inconsequential at this point to proclaim that Fleet Foxes were my favorite new band of the year, producing what I consider and what every other music blog in the blogosphere seems to consider to be the best album of 2008. So instead, I'm going to recount my experience seeing the band play live. Where to begin... ah, yes: so after we left Ben's Chili Bowl, Luke and I met up with some friends (anonymous out of regard for their privacy) and went into the 9:30 Club. The show didn't start for about another hour. The opening band was one dude who seemed straight out of O, Brother Where Art Thou? and who I might have enjoyed had I been sitting down. My back with killing me by the time the band got on stage but as soon as I heard the first five-part harmony my heart melted and the pain faded to the background. I had never been prouder to sport a beard than I was that night. Fleet Foxes sounded even better on stage than they did on record. It felt louder, fuller, and more epic than most live shows I've seen. The guys were also great on stage, quipping back and forth with each other and the audience in what turned out to be the best on-stage banter I've witnessed. They ended the set perfectly with "Blue Ridge Mountains" and we all walked out of the club feeling like we were coming down from a folkloric mountain-side revival. It was sublime.

2. Epic Bottle of Beer: Sierra Nevada Celebration Ale during Obama's acceptance speech

While everyone else was partying out in the streets on election night, banging pots and pans and causing a peaceful ruckus, I was sick and alone when I watched the returns. I cheered to myself when Virginia finally turned blue. I watched with glee as it became clear to everyone that McCain was going to lose. I chuckled at Chris Matthews' emotional speech after Obama was officially declared the winner. And when Obama came on stage in Chicago to give his victory speech, I cracked open a bottle of Celebration Ale and held the bottle up high to cheers our first African American president. Here's to Mr. November! Let's hope he/we won't fuck us over.

1. Epic Musical Moment: the guitar solo in "Lord I'm Discouraged" by the Hold Steady

You might think this seems a bit trivial after Obama's election but you'd be wrong. (If you don't have time to listen to the whole song, the solo starts at the 3 minute mark) In addition to being one of my favorite songs of 2008, "Lord I'm Discouraged" has THE best guitar solo I've heard in years. Every time I listen to it, that moment becomes the best moment of 2008. It is impossible not to feel the pathos that the guitarist injects into this forty-five second solo. You can literally see him standing on top of the piano or wailing outside of the church where Slash stood long ago in the "November Rain" video. After Craig Finn tries to touch our hearts with his tragic story of a woman who has only "excuses and half-truths and fortified wine," guitarist Tad Kubler reminds Craig and the listener to recall the simple, cheesy, yet elegant title of the album: STAY POSITIVE.

That's it for me! Stay tuned for Epic 10 Lists from all our other contributors. Great blog. Great times. Epic Mail 2008.

Fresh Air for Richard Cizik

2008-12-16T17:42:00.006-05:00

Just when you thought Jerry Falwell was dead and gone, out comes the Ghost of Christmas Past to bring back some of that ol' time religion, drawing lines in sand and ridding American evangelicalism of any fresh ideas. The now former vice president for governmental affairs of the National Association of Evangelicals, Richard Cizik, resigned last week amid controversial comments he made on NPR's Fresh Air. (Here's a link to the broadcast) He admitted to voting for Obama in the primaries, and advocated for government sponsored contraception and for gay civil unions. What an asshole, right?

Ever since this sanctimonious creepster stepped down as president of the NAE, Richard Cizik has become the kinder, gentler face of evangelicalism (a bit like Huckabee save the "flat tax" idiocy). Cizik has helped to push forward an environmental agenda among evangelicals, admitting that humans have caused it and that this is NOT how Jesus envisioned his second coming. Previously, care for the environment has been cast aside by evangelicals as just another secular, liberal, tree-hugging scare-tactic. Coupled with a mis-guided distrust of science, too many Americans continue to thump their Bibles and declare their "doubt" over the cause or even the occurrence of climate change. Cizik and other progressive (I use the term lightly) evangelicals have tried to re-frame the climate change argument, putting it in terms that speak to evangelicals. They have emphasized the impact that global warming will have on all humanity, especially the poor, linking Christian stewardship with a responsibility to care for the environment. More importantly, Cizik has led the movement to take the fire out of divisive, culture war issues like abortion and gay marriage and transfer evangelical political energy towards global issues like poverty and climate change.

I'm not an evangelical but I was excited by the moderate, reasonable arguments Cizik has been making over the past few years. It was nice to see the term "evangelical" being used to describe something other than reactionary politics. While I don't agree with some of his basic theological suppositions, I was kind of rooting for Cizik to beat out the old guard and end the culture wars. It was great seeing evangelicals come to the same conclusions as liberals but for their own reasons. A lot of this has to do with my own middle school Jesus Freak guilt and the hope that if evangelicals start talking like me then maybe I no longer have to be ashamed of my past. Cizik gave me hope for my redemption.

Now it looks as though Cizik will have to regroup and come up with a different plan. While there is large support for his perspective among young, college-educated evangelicals, the NAE old guard will not stand for a top-down reform by a rogue public figure. Here's to Cizik annoying the hell out of James Dobson and company! (pun intended)

Sidenote: Terry Gross has got to be living large knowing that her show has this kind of influence. Stay tuned for an analysis of Terry Gross and other 2008 obsessions in my Epic 10 later this week!

Evaluate the Mack: Kidz Edition

2008-12-16T01:36:00.012-05:00

See other posts in the "Evaluate the Mack" series.

I realize that the following video has been making the rounds in various William & Mary circles, which is precisely why I think it deserves discussion in this particular forum:

Thus far, it seems to me like most of the Tribal conversation has revolved primarily around two positions:

1. The predictable, aggrieved feminist approach, whose proponents are somehow convinced that a 9-year old represents a particularly insidious next-gen, 21st century form of patriarchy, OR

2. A more reasonable "who really gives a shit, but this is still incredibly bizarre" response, to which I am decidedly more sympathetic.

I would probably respond to position 1 with something resembling position 2, but with an important omission, namely its preliminary rhetorical question. I would do so because, to put it bluntly, "I give a shit." In fact, I give a mammoth shit. And the obvious reason: this kid's mack is clearly off the charts. I find myself not only compelled to listen to Alec's advice, but to run to my nearest bookseller and purchase every copy of this book in stock. I challenge any woman who objects to his comparison of the fairer sex to "cars that need a lot of oil" to spend ten minutes alone in a room with this kid. I think we both know what would happen.

Let's look more closely at his specific advice:

"When you want to get a girl's attention, you don't want to be flapping your arms like a crazy mad man."
"...what could happen is that you could keep saying words and it would scare the girl."
"If she says hi back, you're off to a good start."
"Don't give her gifts unless its a special occasion, like a school dance or something."

Move over, Mystery. There's no need for complex lexicons of acronyms, or half-assed "magic tricks" to win a lady's heart. Here are four noble truths: Don't flap your arms around, don't talk too much, make sure she says "hi," and give gifts only occasionally. Perhaps it's this elegant simplicity that I've been neglecting my whole life. Maybe the mack isn't nearly as complicated as we've often envisaged on this site. Would Alec need a fridge-full of beverages for any occasion like our friend Chi-City? Clearly not - limb stasis, reticence, casual greetings, and bi-semesterly chocolates. Boom.

Whatever the potentially patriarchal or heteronormative implications of this particular 9-year old's musings (do people still use the word "heteronormative" seriously?), I believe that children, including Alec, are undeniably our future. And if I'm right, then the future of the mack is very promising indeed.

Shine: A Critical Commentary Part III

2008-12-14T19:36:00.015-05:00

See other posts in the "Chris Dane Owens" series.

In many respects I wish I had been able to finish this critical commentary before the interview with CDO himself, because after these final entries there will be plenty of new, urgent questions. But alas, perhaps some mysteries were simply meant to exist as such, out of the purview of mere mortals.

What we do know is that Chris' rotting corpse has washed up on the shore, Shelley-esque, following the disaster at sea. Chris, at this point, is indisputably dead. We observe him entering the gates of heaven, and are treated to an image taken directly from the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel:

Owens' evocation of Michelangelo is playful, but also indicates Chris' imminent resurrection. The creation of Adam, a creature doomed to sinfulness, is thus reconfigured into a rebirth, which either hints at Mankind's ultimate salvation following the Last Judgment or posits Chris as Chirst (the similarity in names is too uncanny to be a fluke). Also worth noting is the arm of God, which is decidedly feminine. We have already observed Owens' fascination with images of feminine power, and this might be its ultimate expression in this particular video. The soul of Chris then exits his heavenly frame, assuming earthly form as the Angel (is this God?) looks on approvingly.

Following is the image, seemingly taken from a Friedrich painting, of a ghostly cemetery at night, complete with ethereal specters:

It is my contention that this image is, as is so much of this video, defiantly ambiguous. On one hand, Chris' work is not yet completed, so it is not absurd to assume that the Witches are involved in Chris' resurrection in some fashion. His body, presumably, was buried in a cemetery upon death, so it could be that the Witches are merely overseeing the process. However, judging from the hell that is about to descend upon this world, it is equally reasonable to see the Witches as engaged in some sort of occult ritual designed to awaken an ancient evil. In either instance I think it is a mistake to view the phantoms in the graveyard as anything more than arbitrary lost souls.

I think the former interpretation can find some support in the following shot, in which we see Chris literally baptized in fire. If the Witches are indeed somewhere between Good and Evil, it would make sense that Chris must pass through the flames of Hell in addition to the azure skies of Heaven in order to return to earth in corporeal form. We are then thrust back into the action, and witness numerous horrific acts being committed in the name of the Masked Villain. Most notably, a new enemy is introduced:

These thuggish fellows to the right owe something to the various ubiquitous villains of comics and cartoons: the Foot Soldier, the Putty, the masked and inept robbers of Batman. They exist, essentially, to be knocked about, never posing any particular threat but rather symbolizing a general disorder that isn't especially desirable. More effective is the montage sequence that follows - a horrific, rapid-fire vision of destruction on an epic scale. Threats include, but are not limited to: Dragons (I absolutely love that shot of their scaly silhouettes against the full moon), rabid dogs, skeletons with flaming ribcages, visibly irritated alligators, and possibly, just possibly, the Witches. They are represented in predictably unclear terms:

Riding away from the scene of carnage, their faces convey a confident stoicism. I think that ultimately they are indeed responsible for the surrounding conflagration, but it is, admittedly, a debatable point. The most fascinating aspect of all this is the following:

Given that Owens takes apparent delight in quoting iconic imagery, it seems quite clear that this is a clear homage to Francis Ford Coppola's Apocalypse Now. In a boldly revolutionary move, he recasts the Hueys as the indiscriminately destructive dragons: a veritable middle-finger to the U.S. military-industrial complex. Sandwiched among all the scenes of devastation is also a quick shot of Masked Villain carrying away an apparently unconscious Virtuous Babe. As I mentioned in an earlier post, part of the video's project is a somewhat reactionary (despite the leftist politics evident elsewhere) statement about the nature of love, which is figured in decidedly conservative terms. Here is another threat to the status quo, as Virtuous Babe is in danger of violating one of the terms of her appellation (Virtuous, not Babe). Chris cannot be made to love a "fallen woman," and thus the video becomes a race against time. Defeat Masked Villain before his love is deflowered by horrifyingly anonymous Masked Villain.

Before concluding Part III, I want to dwell for a moment on one more shot:

I don't know how many of you have lingered on this, but it clearly depicts a dragon hatchery - a breeding grounds of sorts. Incidentally, the vaulted Gothic arches may be the same interior space in which we first encounter The Captain. Will the assault on the hatchery be an inside job? Or were we merely peeking into the future? Additionally, the frozen hatchery ought to have us thinking about the ice comets again...

Don't you ever forget, LOVE HAS ENEMIES.

Whoa...

2008-12-14T18:18:00.005-05:00

I go away for several weeks, and when I get back, I find a totally new Epic Mail. David is happy and has a new name. Brandon is a reporter of the highest order. Chris is blowing up. Things are looking good.

I haven't gone back in time yet, and read all of the posts about this "Shine" something or other.

But I can be sure of one thing:

It would all be a lot better if we put a donk on it.

Epic EXCLUSIVE: Interview with Christopher Dane Owens!!!

2008-12-14T12:24:00.009-05:00

See other posts in the "Chris Dane Owens" series.

Chris Dane Owens was kind enough to answer some of our questions. SHINE ON!!!

-Epic Mail (EM) In your interview with the L.A. Times, you hint at an imagined world that goes far beyond what is actually shown in the video. Is this a world of your imagining, and if not, from where does this universe come from?

-CDO It is very inspired by some of the amazing films we have seen in the last decade or so "Braveheart", LOTR, "Last Of The Mohicans" Also, I love Anime, and that factored in as well. When Bob Short and I got together early on for the project, we both knew what we wanted the video to look like, and Bob was fantastic at taking us through the steps to get to our end result. We had an amazing team also. My editor/producer Jennifer Barlowe has incredible talent at story, colorizing, and over all pacing. We are all very impressed with her..

-EM We did some research, and found that you actually are an accomplished film maker. With your film career, I'm sure you made many connections. The video for "Shine On Me" is itself, visually stunning. Can you explore your connections with the film industry and how you have used those connections to benefit your music career?

-CDO Yeah, I sort of grew up in and around production in Hollywood. My dad and brother are some of the hardest working people I know. Also, lots of my friends produce, write, direct, or work in some capacity in entertainment. So my rolodex is pretty full of wildly talented people. As I assembled my team, all of our various Dept Heads for the shoot really came together well. No egos, just really cool people having fun running around the forest shooting this crazy music video.

-EM The days of the classic MTV Music Video appear to be in the past. With traditional music videos not having the same impact as they did 10 years ago, what was your motivation to make a truly epic music video?

-CDO I think because I am a producer as well, this was the only way I wanted to do a music video. The idea of me doing a conventional performance video really didn't interest me. I wanted to take risks and jump into something I had never done before. Also, it is very important to me that the audience to see how much I care about this story and how important it is that it come off a certain way. I spent literally months on this one… It's my baby…

-EM Can you say something about the cast of "Shine"? Did you cast friends and acquaintances, or people you know from the film industry?

-CDO We actually had open casting for the female roles and I feel so blessed that we found the talented ladies that we did. For my sense of it, they fit perfectly with the vision I had in mind. I had met my Co-star Ciel Post in a casting session for some Scandinavian commercials that fellow Shine producer Jay Schulz was doing and I thought her look and charisma were perfect to play Arra..

-EM What films/books informed the "Shine" video? Where did you get your conceptual inspiration?

-CDO I went through a period of buying really obscure Russian fairy tales on DVD, like The Snow Queen for example. And even though they are older and the production value is not at today's standards, they had a charm that was undeniable to me. But modern projects like Final Fantasy/ Advent Children, Howl's Moving Castle, and Nausica, all played a part in putting together the puzzle.

-EM Why do you think the "Shine" video has proved to be such a major internet sensation?

-CDO G4 did a fun piece on it and the LA Times writer by Charlie Amter was great too. It seems to be on quite a few sites right now, with lots of doors opening in the last week alone, so it gives me good hope about the future of our saga.. I think the video itself is fun to watch. Perhaps people find it engaging because of the romance, the action, and the spiritual elements.. It's hard for me to say why people like it.

There will be quite a bit more action in the next one.. I promise…

-EM Why the "Shine on Me" song with the "Shine on Me" video?

-CDO I think it was the story within the lyrics of that song that really made me want to do SHINE as the video. Lots of my other tracks are more aggressive musically and might have fit better. But I like the honesty of the song we chose, and it completely fits with the accompanying imagery..

-EM What are your touring plans?

-CDO For now, I am finishing the album. Then I will shift into the next mode. I suspect it will be all about Asia first.. I think the "Shine On Me" song and video will be up on Itunes in a few weeks, and then shortly after the CD will be available. We will also have a High res letterboxed version of the video included on the record. Lots of people have been requesting this so we are happy that we can get it out there.

-EM Can we expect more videos in the future?

-CDO YES!!! With some luck there will be lots of adventures ahead… Stay tuned, we'll have more swords, more danger, more love, and more fireworks!!!

Epic 10 Addendum

2008-12-13T14:47:00.004-05:00

This is just a quick post to clear up any confusion. Your Epic 10 List should be a miscellaneous list of your favorite things of 2008. For example, a list could include your favorite song, favorite new tv show obsession, what you consider to be the best news story of the year... etc. The important thing is that you're not picking ONE category like "youtube videos" and picking your top ten videos. You would pick your favorite youtube video and put it in your miscellaneous Epic 10 List.

Another point: the cultural artifacts, be they books, music, or films, don't have to have come out in 2008. However, YOU have to have come across them and experienced their epic-ness over the course of 2008. The point of the Epic 10 is to make each item as personal as possible. It's not enough to list what you consider to be the "best song of 2008." Tell us WHY it is the best song and tell us what experience you had with it that made it truly epic. You've only got ten spots so make sure you choose wisely.

As far as WHEN you should post, any time from now till the new year would be fine. So start gathering your personal Epic 10!

I'd also like to officially welcome Chris to the elite class of Epic Mailers. He has already proven himself a worthy mailer with his first post.

Mannie Fresh, Maximalism, and the Politics of Bigness

2008-12-12T16:20:00.006-05:00

To make my introduction to the esteemed, venerable Epic Mail properly "big," it seems only appropriate, while our experts toil away at cracking the Chris Dane Owens code, to pay respects to the Godfather of Bigness, the Maven of Maximalism: Mannie Fresh. Former Big Tymer (c), Fresh in 2004 trumped his temporal bigness to release a banger examining the very reality of big itself.

Consider:

Taken with the video (which for copyright purposes is unembeddable, but can be seen here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vZ8Cpnjoggc), Fresh offers a framework for the signification of bigness. However, this is not an attempt to define bigness; for Fresh, bigness does not need smallness to offer contrast, it constructs its meaning by extension, not exclusion. What we see in the video are simulacra of bigness - oversized telephones, nearly impossible car modifications, exaggerated blue book values. Yet the axis of contrast is where this bigness intersects with the surrounding scene of urban poverty. Our first indication of Fresh's proportions of bigness come at the very second line of the song; the line "house real big" is met with an image strikingly different from our Cribs-influenced notion of rappers' residential grandeur.

I don't believe Fresh is making an ironic point that this house isn't big, for that would seem to contradict the very core of his maximalist philosophy. Merely that, compared to the barber shop we see later and the shotgun houses which Fresh sets as a backdrop for his street scenes, this house is, undeniably, big. It derives its bigness from dominating its own proportioned space, which is as close as I can come to a definition of Fresh's "bigness".

Consider also the example of the supposed "little person" Fresh's "king of the hood" persona takes as a sidekick.

This sidekick is not a foil of smallness to Fresh's bigness; he is, perhaps, an accomplice in bigness. This character, a Hervé Villechaize for the African-American South, is an inversion of bigness that in turn confirms the very action of bigness itself. When Fresh decides to trade his Maybach for a fleet of Cadillacs, this character is the first to receive one, before the large troop of Fresh's chums standing in the background. This character tells Fresh, "Boss, that's big, boss; real big." Despite all of Fresh's recitations of "real big" and its permutations, nowhere does this maximalist mantra carry more weight than when said by this small man. He embodies the very type of "littleness," yet in performance, in action he confirms just how big he is.

All this, I offer as a statement applicable to our own endeavors into epicness. Perhaps there is some concrete definition of epicness, but the best (and most bloggable) way to approach it is through an induction of things that are, recognizably, "epic." It is a peculiar linguistic extension that the attribution of this quality precedes the definition of it. Yet it is not incorrect or misdirected. Chris Dane Owens: undeniably epic; Lil Wayne: the very character of epicness itself (who, not coincidentally, makes an appearance with Fresh in one of the most epic party scenes of the "Real Big" video).

Epic Mail, then, exists as a prolegomena to epicness. It points towards that which is epic, and by doing so stumbles upon manifestations of epicness in itself. Epic Mail is the legitimate "king of its hood," without need for defining the boundaries of this hood. As we move forward in pursuit of epicness, perhaps it is appropriate to look towards Mannie Fresh as a guide, a parallel framework to understand the construction of bigness and epicness. And most assuredly we should look towards an elaboration of this philosophy in Fresh's next album, the promisingly titled "From Big to Huge."

The Epic 10 of the Year

2008-12-12T12:05:00.011-05:00

Fellow Bloggers and Readers,

It's that time of year again. The Santa Clause, Elf, and Christmas with the Kranks are playing non-stop on every movie channel on television. Pumpkin pies are baking, photos from christmas tree decoration parties are being posted on facebook, and children circa age 8 are finding out that Santa is really just mom and dad. The holiday season is also the season, at least in the cyber world, for end of the year litsts. Hipsters everywhere are sitting by their computers anxiously awaiting to see whether Pitchfork will affirm their favorite musical picks of the year or enrage them by picking some obscure artist like Fuck Buttons for album of the year.

At Epic Mail we'd like to start something a little different. Since we're not exclusively a music, movie, literature, or political blog but a little bit 'o everything, each epic blogger will post his own "Epic 10" list for 2008. Ten things - absolutely anything - of 2008. Personal stories, favorite songs/books/youtube videos, best macks, most epic "Ohhhhhh!" moment... anything as long as it 1) happened in 2008 and 2) is justifiably epic. I'd ask each blogger to spend some time on this post. Gather videos, links, and short explanations for this end of the year round-up.

Any reader who would like to contribute a guest Epic 10 List should email one of us and we'll post it (so long as it meets Epic Mail standards).

In other year-end news, Andy is taking a look back over our short blogosphere career and is compiling a top 10 list of Epic Mail posts that will be coming shortly. We're trying to work in some kind of reader poll to determine popular opinion. Any ideas/comments are welcome. Get to work on your Epic 10 List, epic mailers.

The Day the Music Died: Bye Bye Bye to TRL?

2008-12-11T16:31:00.008-05:00

Get ready to cut your life into pieces: TRL is no more. I found this out last week and I was wholly unprepared for the news. Carson Daly, Vanessa Minillio, Damien Fahey, Suchin Pak, Sway... they're gone? Yes, my friends, the streets of Times Square will once again be empty of the smiling pre-pubescent faces of the thirteen year old girls who once lined the sidewalks every afternoon hoping to catch a glimpse of the drummer from the All-American Rejects and to get their scream heard through the glass of the studio window that loomed eight stories above them. If you're like me, and you undoubtedly are, you are beginning to ask yourself the terrible, haunting question: Where will I be able to watch 20 seconds of a music video interspersed with teen shout outs/freak outs?

In doing research for this post, I discovered that MTV is planning a new music-centered show called FNMTV, so you can rest easy knowing that there will always be a place, however small and insignificant, for music on MTV. The new show will feature some jack-ass called "Wentz" and will contain more feedback from viewers-who-aren't-like-you. Although, as Gideon Yago put it, MTV has largely stripped itself of the "music" and has spent the better part of our lifetime becoming a "youth lifestyle channel."

I can honestly say that I never voted for a single video on TRL. I cannot remember the last time I watched the show, a replay, or even saw a commercial for it. Carson Daly is always a great obscure reference but since I left middle school that's about the only interaction I've had with the show. However, in the same way that American Bandstand catalogued the music that was relevant for decades of kids across America, so too has TRL defined our generation. TRL was never about the music - it was about us. We voted for videos that we wanted to see. We interrupted videos by popping up in a little pip screen at the bottom of the video screaming "TRL!!!!" Stars came on the show to see us. The illusion that MTV presented to us was that we were in control of the youth culture. Even when we knew that we were being marketed to with manufactured boy bands like 98 degrees or "teen angst" music like Limp Bizkit, TRL allowed us to feel like we were responsible for the rise and fall of artists in the pop music industry. Now we've got YouTube. We don't need Carson Daly to tell us what the top song of the week is... we know that it's "Shine On Me" by Chris Dane Owens.

The real message I want to convey is that I'm actually mourning the loss of TRL. I feel like I'm longing for a childhood culture for which I was always on the sidelines. Why couldn't I enjoy seeing Limp Bizkit's cover of "Faith" in the top spot on a Tuesday afternoon? What was so wrong with "Freak on a Leash?" The whole bullet thing was actually kind of sweet! I'm sure that there are plenty of people for whom 80s nostalgia is somewhat of an assumed ex post facto identity and I guess that's partially what I'm doing now. But I'm also mourning the loss of a cultural anchor. Can I really hate this new FNMTV and decry its perpetuation of soul-less mass-marketed music? I guess, but I feel no real antipathy towards it. I'll probably just ignore it. The passing of TRL is mirroring the passage of my youth and I cringe at the thought of turning into a bitter James Murphy-like figure who cannot help but lament the usurpation of his cool by "the kids." From now on I'm out of touch with the real youth of America. The cultural vernacular that we knew - the acronyms and band names that were relevant to us, whether we liked them or not - are losing currency and new memes are being forged in the fires of adolescence to we which we will never be privy. Should it be any surprise to us that we're our own worst enemy?

So go out and buy BuzzCuts and look back with fondness on the days when Papa Roach used to blow our minds. Farewell, TRL. We'll miss you.

Shine: A Critical Commentary Part II

2008-12-11T11:02:00.020-05:00

See other posts in the "Chris Dane Owens" series.

Credit must be given to Newman, who has unearthed this recent interview with Chris Dane Owens. I'm not quite sure whether it answers questions or takes us further down the rabbit hole. Regardless, take note how Owens exhorts us to "attach [our] own meaning to it" (this does not mean, however, that I did not feel a tinge of smug satisfaction when he verified my resurrection theory, but more on this anon).

We left off with Chris and Virtuous Babe's romantic interlude cut short by the arrival of a squadron of dragons. In apparent response to this imminent threat, a blade hath been forged.

Judging by the regal and pregnant visage of the lead Witch, this is no simple giveaway. No, something is required of Chris if he is to wield this broadsword (or is it a rapier?). Following a close inspection of the blade, Chris deems it suitable, and we get a brief shot of him slashing about, i.e. training. To me, the following is then one of the most powerful shots in the video:

His training complete, the warrior prepares for battle. His tortured countenance conveys both steely resolution and lingering doubt. Chris is nothing else if not human (we may have to revise this statement). A fleet of dragons, a Masked Villain, and God knows what else (alligators) awaits him. The drums of war sound. Our own blogger Andy found himself rather vexed at the interposition of these shots that seem to reveal a colonial aesthetic. Specifically, he leveled an implicit accusation of anachronism. While I can't deny having had similar initial sentiments, I've come to appreciate the variety of historical aesthetics that Owens employs in this video. Though the colonial gear might seem odd, notice how nicely it meshes with the winter sleigh, and how smoothly it elides with the more pirate-esque, high seas look of certain scenes. From there it isn't a long shot to the late-Medieval atmospherics we've already witnessed. I'd argue that the genius of the video lies in this very fluidity.

Anyway, let us move on to triptych number three:

Here are three members of what I will be referring to as Chris' "crew." The one in the center will be "The Captain," and the one to the right will be christened "The Lieutenant." Several things strike me as significant here. First of all, Owens, in a typically self-deprecating move, places himself at the edge of the shot. But I want to suggest that something more complex and potentially subversive is at play here. Note the suggestively unbuttoned shirt of The Captain, his enticing, even longing, gaze, and the disco lighting in the cathedral within which he is situated. What I'm suggesting is that this firmly homosocial environment seems to contain a subtext of homosexual desire. The central positioning of The Captain could be a manifestation of Chris' desire (if we are to identify Chris with the auteur Owens), while The Captain's intentions, as I've suggested, are visually apparent. Certainly part of Chris' journey is towards an affirmation of a heteronormative vision of romantic love.

At this point in the video, the "real" chronology becomes rather difficult to follow, because there is an effusion of dream visions and nostalgic reveries that appear on-screen. Thus, when we see the warrior Chris strutting across an ice-bridge, it is only through a kind of internal cognitive association that we find ourselves with the firmly antebellum vision of a picturesque sleigh-ride. In actuality, we will learn, Chris has gone to war at sea. But first we see the Angel bequeathing a mysterious tome unto Virtuous Babe. In this scene, my earlier suggestion that the Angel may harbor feelings for Chris should not be neglected, as this scene opens up the possibility of a sort of vicarious eroticism. What I mean is that by providing Virtuous Babe with this text, through which she can observe Chris' trials at sea, she is in part engaging in a masochistic urge to unite the two before her very eyes, while the possibility of Chris' death offers its own potential sadistic pleasures. The Angel's heavenly appearance belies a more sinister nature, as one can read distinctly in her eyes:

Moving through the magical text onto the stormy seas, Chris confidently pilots his schooner, aided by The Captain, who, giving the order with a swing of his cutlass, orders a fusillade of cannon-shot against an enemy vessel, subsequently igniting the ship's ammo depot, and causing an immense explosion. Despite these early victories, however, we observe the Witches actually causing a monsoon that ultimately wrecks Chris' flagship. We can account for this by remembering that the Witches charged Chris with a trial. His talismanic sword is to be purchased with a cost. He must be tested. And as the image of Chris swinging defiantly towards the viewer on a line of rigging attests, he will pass.

Careening into the water, however, and following a remarkable spin move, a washed-up Chris can be seen on a forest floor, not moving...

Part III will be posted shortly. And to be honest, I will almost certainly need a Part IV. Additionally, if anyone can think of a possible way to do footnotes in these posts, please let me know so I can avoid so many parenthetical remarks (I've been chastised for this by professors in recent weeks).

And remember, as always, LOVE HAS ENEMIES.

Shine: A Critical Commentary Part I

2008-12-10T00:26:00.019-05:00

See other posts in the "Chris Dane Owens" series.

First of all, a big thank you to Mr. Beers for his brief gloss on Shine. It ought to serve as a fitting introduction to anyone unfamiliar with Chris Dane Owens' oeuvre. As someone who is both heavily emotionally invested in Mr. Owens' work and semi-professionally employed in the industry of criticism, I would like to offer my own reading, as it were, of Shine. I will offer a fairly comprehensive interpretation of Shine, and follow it up with potential critical problems for which I still need solutions. This is intended to be, ultimately, a blog-wide effort.

Addendum: I will not be regarding the lyrics as being in any way related to the imagery of the music video. If you can find some way to reconcile the two in any meaningful way, you deserve the utmost admiration of us all. Additionally, this is only Part I of the analysis - Parts II and III will be along shortly.

To begin with, Chris Dane Owens presents us with deliberate Dickensian echoes: "A Time of Darkness" and "A Time of Light," paired devastatingly next to one another. I think quite a bit of the critical confusion that this video occasions is a result of Owens' fascination with paradox. "Who are the good guys?" and "Who are the bad guys?" are not always operative questions in a universe as complex as that of Owens. At the same time, as if to taunt the would-be critic, Owens posits a "crusade," which denotes an undertaking inspired by a particular cause, thus inviting the viewer to engage in very sort of binary thinking already having been rejected.

Several gorgeous shots of natural beauty follow, and we soon encounter our ostensible hero, played by none other than Owens himself (with a mustache, so as to not confuse him with the singer himself, though I will, for convenience's sake, refer to him as Chris). Chris, delicately prancing about in a babbling brook, encounters Virtuous Babe, who finds herself enraptured with Chris after he performs a stunt involving his horse leaping over a log. In a scene establishing the rather medieval gender politics of our setting, Chris then chivalrously seats Virtuous Babe on his steed, and leads them daintily through the stream.

Importantly, note the brief shot of the schooner around this point - this temporal aberration is known as "foreshadowing" for those of us in the business of literary criticism. Underscoring the ominous tone is the diptych that follows:

The image is literally riven in two - an inauspicious sign to say the least, pointing unmistakably at a future separation. After more prancing, the romance is boldly subverted: Chris is braving a volley of ice-comets with only a shield to protect him, three threatening women approach bearing blades, and a masked villain confronts Chris and Virtuous Babe in the magical wood. I will return to the ice-comets later, but I want to first discuss the Three Witches, as I will call them.

Part of Mr. Owens' project, I would argue, is a feminist reevaluation of Tolkein. The stances and costumes of the Three Witches here undeniably mimic those of the Black Riders in Peter Jackson's films. But the Witches have an almost unfathomably long genealogy: the Weird Sisters of Shakespeare's Macbeth, the Fates of Greek mythology, the Norns of Norse legend, the list goes on and on. What tethers these various trios together is the power of foresight, often coupled with an ability to manipulate fate. Keep this in mind.

Exhibiting an almost obsessive fondness for medieval aesthetics, Owens then employs a triptych framework for his next shot:

On the left, our masked villain, shrouded in flames. In the middle, the foremost of the Witches. To the right, an unknown figure, but one who bears an unmistakable resemblance to Chris. The key here is that the face is superimposed over a graveyard. The sepulchral imagery once again gestures towards a gruesome foreshadowing. The Witch, appropriately then, is situated quite literally "beyond good and evil."

After a rather unsatisfying fight scene with Masked Villain (he is defeated with a mere punch), yet another mysterious figure it thrust at us through yet another triptych: the angel. Her positioning on the far right, so as to be opposite Virtuous Babe, suggests potential discord between the two. The implication is that they both may be vying for Chris' love and affection. Further complicating things is the following shot:

A mirror image of the Three Witches, it is absolutely critical to note that THESE ARE NOT THE THREE WITCHES. These are an entirely different set of beings with entirely different intentions and priorities. We are certainly urged to consider their relationship to the Three Witches (about which I will have more to say), but do not confuse the two. Anyway, the Masked Villain having been temporarily vanquished, Chris and Virtuous Babe are free to smooch in the wood and jog through the snow once more...though dragons are on the horizon.....

With that, I will conclude Part I. I'd appreciate any thoughts you have thus far, but otherwise, make sure to check out Part II, which I will post tomorrow.

Remember, LOVE HAS ENEMIES.

The Soul is Located in the Chest

2008-12-09T20:50:00.069-05:00

See other posts in the "Chris Dane Owens" series.

I just watched this video, as first blogged about by our own Matt. This is mandatory viewing.

What happened? Did Chris Dane Owens just waltz into my life, reach into my chest, and, with much pomp, touch my soul? Is the chest even where the soul is located? Most importantly, could the fanciful reality that exists within C.D.O.'s mind pull me out of blog-sabbatical? The answers are: Providence; Yes; Probable; and obviously, Yes.

I'm finding it difficult to organize my thoughts, however. I think it's safe to chalk that one up to the schizophrenic cinematography, which has mind-scattering effects similar to that of heroin, fire alarms, or a Vietnam flashback. Let me be clear -- that isn't necessarily a bad thing.

At first glance, "Shine" lays siege to the concepts of sustained thought and traditional storytelling. It seems to synthesize elements from Lord of the Rings, Master and Commander, and Dragon Ball Z into a stunningly ambitious four-minute window. Despite repeated viewing, I was unable to connect more than a handful of frames into a coherent story element. The only "themes" that revealed themselves to me were a stubborn refusal to choose a consistent temporal or physical setting, and a recurring set of three women. And I was hesitant to identify the women as a theme, since each successive appearance places them in such a ludicrously unrelated context that any attempt to derive meaning from them was akin to putting my brain into a food processor.

Oh, cool, they're Dark Knights.

Oh, wait, ok, they're some do-good angels!

Ok, hold on -- a dragon-queen triumvirate?

Witches? What?

Futuristic Charlie's Angels? COME ON

With much persistence and a blog-wide effort, especially from Matt S, I'm starting to grasp the narrative depth and, perhaps, coherence, of this video. And so despite feeling, mentally, like Harrison Bergeron, let's set in motion the proper analytical treatment that "Shine" deserves.

Obviously, our first pressing question to address is: "Who IS Chris Dane Owens?" I could draw equal physical comparisons to Vincent Price, Legolas, and those ghost-twins from "The Matrix Reloaded." With a bit of gumption and some internet digging, contributor Matt N found an excellent primer to all things C.D.O. -- this interview with the LA Times music blog.

With this background under our belts, I would like to highlight a few aspects of this video that vex me. For starters, there are a few shots that seem wholly out of place. I'm aware that "Shine" attempts to create a genre-transcending, mis-en-scene-borrowing mega-world -- but certain scenes are just downright puzzling:

Is this a colonial drumline?

Another source of confusion (although perhaps my favorite scene) comes up at just before the halfway mark, when we're abruptly introduced to a Chris Martin -esque captain, who apparently detonates an enemy ship with a flick of his sabre. Questions immediately arise: "Whose ship just exploded?" and, "Is Chris Martin an ally, or an enemy?" (his questionable facial expressions impel me towards the latter).

This (above) suddenly leads to this (below)

As much as I love this video, C.D.O. has a frustrating penchant for following up his totally sweet scenes (and some of them are totally sweet) with lackluster shot. For example:

Sweet
Not Sweet
Sweet
Not Sweet
Totally Sweet
Incredibly Not Sweet
And we're back to sweet

Of course, the common theme of these "not sweet" shots is C.D.O.'s love interest. I understand that the power of their love is one of the main messages in this video, but I would have preferred that it was represented with the same passion and vigor as the action shots.

I'm confident that my brief criticism will be overshadowed by our further investigation of "Shine." After all, Owens has given us the greatest gift a man can give: the redemptive light of his chest-cavity (the soul?).

BREAKING: Blago!

2008-12-09T16:40:00.006-05:00

Today the blogosphere (Blagosphere?) is abuzz over the hilariously corrupt antics of Illinois Governor Rod R. Blagojevich. Black nerd blogger Ta-Nehisi Coates at the Atlantic sums it up in terms we Epic Mailers can understand:

"Incredible. Blagojevich was already under investigation. And then he tries to sell Obama's Senate seat? I don't think I've ever seen anything like this. This dude tried to auction the Senate seat of the President-Elect of the United States. Wow. They haven't even invented a machine that can calculate the Fail Factor here. I do believe we have gone to Interstellar Fail. Intergalactic, perhaps."

If possible, I'd like to see Matt "Chicago Machine Politics" Newman give us an inside look at the insanity brewing in Al Capone's abode, but before then, I just want to be the millionth person to point out what an enormous bullet Obama has dodged here. Honestly, the whole process of appointing vacant Senate seats is shady as hell, and it's not uncommon to find pretty blatant cases of nepotism and back-stratching. It wouldn't have been odd for Obama's team to have at least considered giving Blagojevich or his wife an appointment to some post in return for the Senate appointment they wanted. Luckilly, they're much smarter than that, and word on the street is that total baller and personal hero of mine Rahm Emmanuel is the one who blew the whistle on Blagojevich. But before doing so, he made sure that federal investigators have Blago (who's every third word is "fuck") on tape calling Obama a "motherfucker" and saying "They're not willing to give me anything... Fuck Obama".

Said Blagojevich as he was arrested at his home this morning: "The bitch set me up!"

Is advertising sweet?

2008-12-08T14:52:00.012-05:00

See other posts in the "Is this sweet?" series.

As has been mentioned on this blog before, I'm in marketing. I generally enjoy advertising, especially when it is particularly clever or informative. As a favorite professor once said, "good advertising doesn't offend me."

I don't intend to turn this space into one which dissects advertising, but has this ad gone too far? Should we be offended?

I get all amped about Psychocandy, stand-up drum kits and wayfarers, and then am directed to associate those positive feelings with high-end German perfume for women. No thank you. You can't even smell perfume through a monitor (yet?).

This could simply partake in the larger indie-song-as-jingle craze (though the pure jingle is making a comeback and I don't feel similarly betrayed by any number of bands I enjoy featured in Apple spots and the like). Maybe J&MC just hits a little too close to home. Or perhaps my discomfort is not so simply located in that favored cry of adolescents nationwide, "man, those guys totally sold out."

I think I'm most bothered as a marketer. Looks like the folks on the Boss account at Procter & Gamble are getting lazy and don't intend to carry core choices about the brand across their campaign. Did you see the expensive pant-suit this woman is wearing? Are we really associating this immaculately primped woman in a city high-rise apartment with two of the filthiest looking brothers ever to revolutionize rock? Did P&G do anything other than listen to the intro and read the first few lyrics from 'Just Like Honey?' Who sees this and thinks "$60 fragrance"? This woman clearly cares far too much about the state of her hair.

Is this what I have to endure for J&MC to get enough money for the new album and some added tour dates? Does this mean that the Reids have become Dylanesque (soon to be Weezian?) in more than their prophetic musical ability?

I'm not sure, but you won't catch me wearing Femme any time soon.

THIS. is sweet.

2008-12-07T21:13:00.017-05:00

See other posts in the "Chris Dane Owens" series.

OK, where to start? The lack of a coherent historical or aesthetic backdrop (pirates? Tolkein? 18th century London?), the complete absence of anything resembling an identifiable narrative (trust me, I've watched this about 25 times, and still can't figure out what the floating skeletons with fire inside their ribcages are doing), the mustache, the obscenely enormous hordes of CGI dragons, the inexplicably large budget, the mustache...we could really create an entire blog devoted to the sort of hermeneutical gymnastics that something like this deserves. The only thing it lacks (and it feels heretical to offer even the slightest criticism) is Chris Dane Owens shredding a sick solo on that glittering abomination of his. That brief quibble aside, I think it's safe to say that if there ever were an objet d'art about which one needn't ask the question, "Is this sweet?", this video is it.

Epic Weezy?

2008-12-04T18:06:00.003-05:00

Backstory: I love Lil Wayne. If you've been in a vehicle with me this year, I've probably played a Weezy song for you, and you've probably had to induldge me as I raved about "how fucking BRILLIANT this one pun is!!!" All told, I have over 300 Lil Wayne songs on my iTunes. Not only do I think he's the weirdest, funniest, most creative and most troll-like rapper ever, I also think he's the most prolific stoner alive (two summers ago he was averaging about 3 or 4 songs a day, while being, in his words, "so high I could eat a fucking star"). And while I don't think Tha Carter III is his best work (Da Drought 3 from the aforementioned summer of 07 gets that credit), TC3 will still probably top my year end list, just as an honorary thing, like finally giving Scorsese an Oscar when he made the The Departed.

In the last couple years I've grown accustomed to reading similar praise for Lil Wayne, be it from The New Yorker, the Times, Slate or Pitchfork. The general message of these articles is that as long as you're self-aware and somewhat ironically detached, you can be a white nerd liberal elitist and still have love for Weezy Wee.

Unfortunately, 2008 has just been too good to Lil Wayne. He has the top selling album of the year, he's up for 8 grammys (more than Coldplay?!), he's been name-checked by the president-elect, and his auto-tuned-out (damn you T-Pain!) growl/croon has been featured in pretty much every "club ready" rap track released in the last six months.

So what does this mean? Well, if we look at the precedent set by the previous "best rapper alive", it means Lil Wayne is on a Collision Course with mainstream white America. And that can't be good for anyone involved.

What I present below are three "covers" of Lil Wayne songs, done by sub-par to terrible members of the 'alt-rock' genre. We'll start with the worst:

Jonathan Davis -- "Got Money"

Yes, that Jonathan Davis. This song brings up two questions:

1. Jonathan Davis is still alive?
2. Do you think he has a backwards 'R' on his keyboard?

I would direct you to his website where the song can be downloaded for free, but that requires that you sign up to receive emails from, well, Jonathan Davis:

Framing Hanley (??) -- "Lollipop"

This song may actually be worse than the previous one, but I had to give them extra points for the video. The music doesn't start until about 2:15, and before that you get to witness an emocore version of Can't Hardly Wait, where the super-tatted dude gets his pool mack on with the Vanessa Hudgens lookalike. Their conversation is like a bizarro-world reinterpreation of the dialogue from "the Sweater Song". Actual excerpts:

Hawt girl: I come here sometimes... to hang out with some friends... it can get pretty monotonous around here.
Lead singer: Monotonous?
Hawt girl: Yeah, you know... boring?
Lead singer: Yeah I know what you mean... it just seems that you'd kind of be entertaining... from time to time at least. So... you bored right now?
Hawt girl: No.
Lead singer: No?
Hawt girl: Maybe a little... (cue guitar playing "Lollipop"... wait, wtf?)

In case you couldn't stomach the entire thing, I can assure you that watching a Good Charlotte wannabe scream "CALL ME SO I CAN GET IT JUICY FOR YOU" is just as cringe-inducing as it sounds.

Travis Barker and DJ AM -- "Stay Fly/Lollipop/A Millie (Rock Remix)"

We all remember September 19, 2008 as the day the music (almost) died. Well let's be glad those boys are still around, because they've made the only listenable cover on this list. Mainly this just stems from the fact that it's not actually a cover, and instead just Travis Barker being really fucking good at drumming. Also, this song begs the question, what does DJ AM actually do?

(ps, I just now realized that Epic Mail is about to have two Travis Barker rap covers posted in as many days. That can't be good.)

Now all this rock-rap business would be bad enough, but unfortunately, Lil Wayne seems to have decided that he needs to return the favor. He's taken to playing guitar in between songs at his concerts recently, and although I'm not the best at assessing guitar-playing abilities, I can tell you definitively that Lil Wayne cannot play the guitar for shit. This is about as uncomfortable to watch as a Middle School talent show:

In conclusion, I have but one thing to say:

If it's Weezy and Weezer we're talking about, maybe segregation isn't such a bad thing.

You done have to be lonely

2008-12-03T23:16:00.002-05:00

Heard about this on NPR. Had to sign up for it.

Tammy and I are going to a Mud Bog next Sunday. After church.

Mario Kart Love Song

2008-12-02T00:07:00.002-05:00

I don't really know what to say.

2008 Text Message Census: A Study in Inanity

2008-11-29T18:56:00.006-05:00

Today, deleting numerous entries from the "Sent" text message folder of my phone, I decided to keep track of recurring messages, general trends, and strange occurrences (these messages are only those that occurred between the hours of 10 pm and 5 am). The results, in no particular order:

1. Anything to do with "the mack" (this includes "the mack is huge," "the mack goes international," "nothing can stop this mack," "mack attack," "British sculptress mack," "you have to see this mack," and the simple yet elegant "the mack"): 19 entries

2. "Sneak," "kriek," or "skreek": 5 entries

3. "L love you Dave": 1 entry

4. "I am lying in a pile of trash": 1 entry

5. "I said a ygbkmg": 2 entries

6. "Got em": 3 entries

7. "Jager bombs" or "Jage bems" (includes images of jagerbombs): 5 entries

8. Anything crudely written in Jerseyesque dialect (including the somewhat inexplicable "ya motha's baked ziti"): 4 entries

9. "You gotta sneak it": 1 entry

10. "Chub toad" or "Old chub toad": 2 entries

11. Nonsensical jumbles of letters: 2 entries

12. "Gotta do it" or "I did it" or "you did it": 5 entries

13. Anything resembling a coherent or worthwhile thought ("no its a right off of 14th"): 1 entry

"DAAAAMN DUDE!"

2008-11-27T02:52:00.002-05:00

http://www.spike.com/video/whos-ultimate/3045398

the cursor has been blinking for 15 minutes. nothing left to say.

Pete "Frampton" Drake

2008-11-18T11:34:00.004-05:00

FINALLY

2008-11-17T15:45:00.003-05:00

We have a decent Obama impression:

This just makes it clear how boring and emotionless Fred Armisen's impersonation on SNL really is.