Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Quiet, You

When news broke that burgeoning NFL bust Tim Tebow would feature in a commercial for Focus on the Family to air during Super Bowl, there was some reaction. Pro-choice groups were incensed, and rather rightly questioned the sense of airing an ad of such nature in between other promos filled with beer, broads, talking babies/animals, and eyesore vehicles. Anti-choice groups were grateful that arguably the greatest collegiate football player to ever not be aborted was willing to take such a stand, risking his draft status and financial future to identify himself as a male creature who thinks his opinion on abortion matters.

Quick note for the guys: whether you support a womans right to choose or not is something that could not possibly interest me less. It's like me talking in depth about male impotence. What the hell do I know about it? Same rules apply.

(I don't say this to offend, because again, a man speaking on abortion cannot sustain my attention long enough for me to feel affronted by it. Women who are against a womans right to choose--yep, always in italics, so you don't forget it--are another story. I'll invite them over to my home for a friendly debate and serve up some homemade caramel apples, except that ain't caramel. Such women should have their ovaries revoked.)

"Tebow has free speech! Deal with it."

The concept of "free speech," as most use it (usually in frothing defense of some decidedly "inappropriate" expression), does not actually exist. I don't mean in some pre-TV cop Tracy Morrow "freedom of speech just watch what you say" type talk, I mean that all the first amendment guarantees Americans is that the federal government shall make no law prohibiting freedom of speech. States, however, are free under the Constitution to play Peabody and pass laws restricting the Shermans within its borders from engaging in speech deemed inappropriate or inflammatory. So really, Tebow--and all of us--have free speech. But it is never a given. So defending this Super Bowl ad with the Constitution is dumb as shit.

Another angle to this story: Tebow was almost aborted. I read about this last summer in a typically orgasmic Sports Illustrated cover story about the most annoying Christian since Tiny Tim. It's really a gem.

Never hear about this on the news.

No, just read about it in a national publication and all over the Internet.

Pam knows about the pain of considering abortion.

More than 21 years ago, she and her husband, Bob, were serving as missionaries to the Philippines and praying for a fifth child. Pam contracted amoebic dysentery, an infection of the intestine caused by a parasite found in a contaminated food or drink. She entered into a coma and was treated with strong antibiotics before they discovered she was pregnant. Doctors urged her to abort the baby for her own safety and told her that the medicines had caused irreversible damage to her baby. She refused the abortion and cited her Christian faith as the reason for her hope that her son would be born without the devastating disabilities physicians predicted.

The doctors "didn't think of it as a life, they thought of it as a mass of fetal tissue," Pam said.

Because they're doctors. The one group of people you can rest assured don't give a fuck. Alec Baldwin in Malice is every doctor ever. Even the pediatricians.

While pregnant, Pam nearly lost their baby four times but refused to consider abortion. She recalled making a pledge to God with her husband, "If you will give us a son, we'll name him 'Timothy,' and we'll make him a preacher."

And if it's a girl, we have a water bucket handy!

She was the keynote speaker at the Oct. 23, 2008, benefit banquet for two Louisville ministries. A Woman's Choice Resource Center offers such services as free pregnancy tests, post-abortion counseling, adoption information, and material support. Necole's Place is a companion ministry that provides support services for women in need.

Several Louisville-area Kentucky Baptist churches and Long Run Baptist Association help support both ministries.

A Woman's Choice board chairman, John Schmitt, reported at the banquet that in the 20 years since the resource center opened, 4,500 children have been saved from abortion -- 400 in this year alone.

Speaking of the thousands of lives saved, Pam Tebow said, "That just blows my mind. Every little baby you save matters."

No...that's really not true. It's fundamentally an inaccurate statement. For every guy who can throw a ball real good that got saved from suckage, there's another who will be born into hopeless poverty, abuse or neglect. One more gaping mouth in a world packed sick with them. At heart, anti-abortionists are ignorant of the dangers posed by overpopulation, which right there clues me in that they are themselves a danger to the world.

The what-if argument style is a maddening tactic, as it seeks to cloak itself as a deductive argument, and shouldn't be utilized by either side of the abortion issue. A commenter at this link says, Makes you wonder what outstanding, world-changing people have been, or will be, aborted? Since Tim Tebow wasn't aborted when the option was clearly there, the logic goes, abortion is evil and will only rob humanity of its best and brightest. (Whereas life itself tends to do a pretty tidy job of that.) The easy retort is, Makes you wonder what murderous bastards have been, or will be, aborted? It's a circuitous way of looking at a topic that gets blood pressure levels skyrocketing like no other. And that's annoying. If you're talking about abortion and such a question escapes your lips, you deserve to be treated like the mental preschooler you are.

On Super Bowl Sunday, I will simply mute during commercials.

What a furor this has caused! Over some bum kid whose Theismann-esque exit from pro football will probably be more memorable than the Super Bowl itself.


Thursday, January 21, 2010

Always Beating Carell

Alec Baldwin in front of a camera is a guaranteed good time.

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Everyone at some point in life requires something similar to this legendary scene, a slick, greasy, profanity-ridden call to balls to walls. I got mine recently. Does it count if you give it to yourself, though?

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Proclamations

I hereby decree that all musicians will stop doing covers of the following:

"Surrender," Cheap Trick
"Hallelujah," Leonard Cohen
"Walk Away Renee," Left Banke
any and all Beatles songs

Adherence will result in the overall state of music improving by a hearty 64%. Obstinate refusal can lead only to your embarrassment.

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

2010 And It Begins

So, am I buying this myself or is someone getting it for me?



In less blissfully cute news, I've started the search for a new job. In a county an hours drive from where I live now. Yeah. Do it up.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Rimsky-Korsakov Still Woulda Been Funnier Than Beethoven, Though



February 12, 2010 will mark the tenth anniversary of Charles Schulz' passing. In 32 years of life (wow!) his is the only "celebrity" passing that moved me to tears.

The above is one of my favorite individual panels in all of Peanuts. Hilarious (say "Lobkowitz stopped his annuity!" out loud and see if you don't agree) and historically accurate.

Charles Schulz set the bar, then took it with him when he died.

Friday, December 18, 2009

Take Your Iron Boots and Stick Them Somewhere Uncomfortable

I never finished Ocarina of Time. I may never finish it. I mean shit, it's been eleven years.

It's an anomaly for me to not finish an epic game, which is why I don't feel so bad about admitting that I flat-out gave up during the Water Temple. Hundreds of carrots and rupees sacrificed in the name of horsey acquisition didn't do me in, but constant screen-switching did. I couldn't help it--the equipment screen was beginning to appear in my dreams.

Can you consider a game you never saw all the way to the end with your own gamer hands to be the greatest game of all time? Can you be in such awe of intricate puzzles that required a patience you simply didn't possess? (And by "patience" I also mean, "game guide.")

Thanks to YouTube, I get to see players far better than I do Ocarina walkthroughs. These videos swell up something inside of me, right in the gut, or the craw, just left of my druthers. I am suddenly overwhelmed with the need to revisit the game and finish that fuck. I want to fight Shadow Link. I can beat him. I can beat Ganondorf's phantom pianist ass, and I can take down Ganon. (Mild digression: that last boss battle has got to be one of the most intense of its kind in the medium. When he transforms from 'dorf to beast GANON with the swords bigger than Link himself, my sweet Jesuscakes. The only thing that would make it more undeniably epic is if the instrumental to Danger Mouse's "Change Clothes" remix off the Grey Album started playing. Think the sample, now.)

But then I remember that I just don't have the time anymore. Immersing myself in a fictional world of my own creation rather than that of someone elses is far more important these days.

If only I could have my next book come out in gold.



(Another Ocarina treat, featured on only the first two releases of the game: the original Fire Temple music, complete with Muslim prayer chanting. You can guess why it was removed from future versions.)

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Watt is Pigpen

I don't do Peanuts is Timeless anymore, 'cause honestly, I think I've proven the point. Also, the process of hunting down, compiling, and commenting on those links is time-consuming. However, when a particularly superb reference to a character or trope related to the greatest work of American art in the 20th century blips on the radar, I can't pass it up. Ladies and gentlemen, Iggy Pop.

What was your first reaction to the news that the Stooges will be inducted into the Hall of Fame in 2010?
Well, very surprised. I didn't think I'd ever see the inside of that neighborhood actually. Probably because the group had a very long outsider history, going back way back before there was ever a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. It took us a lot longer to get some sort of general acceptance than probably most people.

You've been eligible for about 15 years or so.
We've been rejected seven times and we would have set a record I think if it happened again. We would have been the record holders I think. The first few times I'd always hear we got nominated about a month after it happened. Then the lag time started decreasing until it'd be the day after, all these people calling me to say "congratulations." It sort of became one of those things like Charlie Brown and the football. And it's always Lucy's idea. I'd run for the damn thing. But somebody every year was nominating us and then it was like, "OK, Stooges, come on, just run and kick the ball." Whoops.

Inducted alongside the Stooges: the Hollies, Genesis, Abba and Jimmy Cliff. A pretty mediocre group, Detroit's near-finest aside. I don't care about Cliff 'cause I don't care about reggae; Abba had some of the greatest pop singles ever, but made full albums as well as I make wedding cakes; the Hollies and Genesis, I look at them the same way--some good songs, but mainly forgettable when not downright terrible. Donna Summer was passed over this year for induction, and "Hot Stuff" on its own destroys anything those last two bands ever put out. Come on, she got a motherfucker who hated disco to do a guitar solo on her disco song.

Friday, December 11, 2009

Spirits in the Material World

"The Grief Show" is unfolding almost faster than I can contain. Like watching an entire garden blossom forth its bounty. The spiritual aspect of the story alone puts it on a higher level than "415 101," although as first novels go, I'm not ashamed of that one at all. Let's hope a publisher somewhere shares my confidence.

Friday, December 4, 2009

So Long to Tai Shan

After four years, the DC Zoo's most fantastic denizen is headed off to China. You know what that means...Dastardly the Komodo Dragon* is now the Zoo's prize attraction!












*as named by me.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

TV Guide's Maddening Insistence on Diluting the Art of the List: Simpsons Edition

The Simpsons--AKA, "Greatest Thing To Ever Emanate From the Glowbox"--turns 20 this season. To celebrate, TV Guide has compiled a list of their twenty favorite episodes.

Generally, I adore lists; when done correctly--with intelligence, passion, research, and playfulness--they can be stimulating and educational. (See: Listverse.) Executed poorly, they are transparent appeals to either the majority or minority audience, eschewing genuine opinion for the sake of stirring the mob into a frenzy.

TV Guide's list, as a rule, suck lots. It is simply impossible to satisfactorily break down the myriad of ways in which their "100 Greatest Episodes of All-Time" compilation is just wrong. You can use words from different languages (including sign), draw up many a graph and chart, emit primal exhortations from your disbelieving throat--you will never be able to get across that the mag's obsession with Seinfeld is an actual brain-clouding sickness that the rest of the world should be protected from. (When that particular show was nearing its end, "The Guide" sought fit to proclaim it the "Greatest Sitcom of All-Time," justifying the hyperbole by praising the shows everyman qualities, the way its viewers could so easily relate to the adventures of four New Yorkers who used their cars way more than four of my NYC-based friends ever do. The article then used, as an example, the episode where Elaine sends out Christmas cards featuring her picture on the front--and her nipple is showing! Yeah, who hasn't had that happen?)

So it is not at all surprising that the Simpsons list gets it right sometimes and wrong most times.

20. Lisa vs. Malibu Stacy--There's several Lisa-centric eps that deserve mention: "Lisa's Wedding," "Summer of 4 ft. 2," and the heartbreaking "Lisa's Substitute." She's a smart, passionate eight-year-old with daddy issues. But TV Guide has a process, you see, and if you shine a light on it, the creepy-crawlies scatter every which a way. Their review for this selection features the words "plasticized sexism"--so forget the heart, forget the laughs, TV Guide adores the issues.

19. Treehouse of Horror IV--Praised for its consistency. I suppose.

18. The Crepes of Wrath--The Simpsons is one of the few shows that can pull off DVD commentaries with six-plus people in a room talking about the same thing. The commentary for this particular episode is the only boring one in the history of The Simpsons on DVD. So for that, yeah, legendary.

17. Das Bus--"Go banana!"

16. Marge vs. the Monorail--See, now you know! God, if only Conan had thrown in a B-story about how mid-city monorails hurt the cause for Tibetan freedom!

15. Mr. Plow--Season 4, oh sweet Jesus. Season 4 of The Simpsons is in that rarefied air with Season 2 of AbFab, Season 2 of The Office, season 2 of 30 Rock, season 4 of Hill Street Blues, season 3 of Homicide. Utter perfection, where the hits off the cylinders ping. "Mr. Plow" has a ridiculously brilliant premise, great use of a secondary character, a TV jingle that's like a drill bit in the brain, and the magic of a jacket as an aphrodisiac.

14. Mom and Pop Art--Guest voices Isabella Rossellini and Jasper Johns. Al Jean's first script upon his return to the show. The latter is the reason TVG gives for loving it. What the shit.

13. I Am Furious Yellow--"Angry Dad" is forever winning, and Patrick and I still help ourselves to some stock from time to time. TVG digs that "it skewered two cultural phenomena at once: the dot.com bubble and 'The Incredible Hulk'." (Again, don't be funny, be topical!) Yeah, about that last one...there is no more maddening moment for me as a fan, personally, then when the show that used to reward your intelligence instead flips off your intelligence and then brags about fucking its mom. Cue a green, shirtless, enraged Homer wreaking mini-havoc. Then cut to a horrified Lenny, who proclaims, "It's the Incredible Hulk!" Only food or sex should ever make me moan that loud.

12. Bart of Darkness--Is funny.

11. Moe'n'a Lisa--Cameos from Jonathan Franzen, Tom Wolfe and Gore Vidal. I do love me a lit-heavy episode. There's even an author brawl where a painting of Snoopy hunched over a typewriter gets smashed. You know I can't resist that. But this entry is like so much of the list--funny, good, yeah, but I can think of 20 more that are funnier and better.

10. Homer the Great--You know, the Stonecutters ep.

9. Flaming Moes--Top 250, maybe.

8. Three Gays of the Condo--Hilarious, especially for a post season 12 offering, but no better than my top 60. How is this so high? Oh right, the gay thing.

7. Cape Feare--The rakes. "The Bart the." The fucking rakes.

6. You Only Move Twice--Albert Brooks on The Simpsons is like almond crust on a sweet cut of salmon. Where the hell is "Life on the Fast Lane"?

5. Eternal Moonshine of the Simpson Mind--Beloved, for reasons unfathomable to my asparagus brain, by the notorious hard heads at Nohomers.net Is it the "Homer's Life" montage? Hooray for computer animation and YouTube references and such? 'Cause I'll be damned if I can recall anything else from this one. In ten years, this one will fall in a lot of estimations.

4. King-Size Homer--Just reading or writing about this one makes me want to watch it. Without question the greatest entry on this sad-ass list. "I wash myself with a rag on a stick" is funnier than "Eternal Moonshine." Bart's post-daydream, fake rag on a stick is funnier than "Eternal Moonshine." A top 5 episode, easily.

3. Behind the Laughter--Of course, I mean, the entire thing lampoons a TV show. Happens to be funny though, so.

2. Two Dozen and One Greyhounds--"See My Vest." Rory Calhoun. That's it.

1. Homer's Phobia--It just got mad gay up in the piece. They did it so right with this one that "Three Gays" was really just superfluous. Scott Thompson ain't fuckin' with John Waters on any level in any capacity. I agree with the summation given here, that the writers nailed both the humor and the social commentary, using a lighthearted approach that shows Homer as a decent guy with some opinions that might not exactly strike some people as smart or even very funny. This makes my top 20, helped immensely by Waters' performance.

So, there it is.

Hmph.

When I make my top 50 list, and Patrick makes his...shit. New galaxies, y'all.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Jesus Lizard in DC

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

To Give Thanks

I would love if everyone that will be here for Thanksgiving lunch/dinner would come in shifts instead. Over 20 folks will be packing the house at peak meal time, making my office on the second floor seem less like a welcome refuge, more like a bomb shelter fulla peanut butter.

My niece who eats 14 pounds of mashed potatos per sitting won't be here, though; let us give thanks indeed.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Where I've Been

Over a month since my last post...but I have decent reasons.

Publishing "No Setlist" did wonders for my confidence, and along with that boost in esteem came a boost in my writing. My fiction trilogy--which took a backseat while I put NSL together--regained my attention. As of now, the first of these novels--the long-in-gestation "415 101"--is done. I now am preparing to contact publishers. That's vague, and deliberately so. I don't want to get too excited about the baby steps every author must take when selling other people on their work as viable.

I'll be back Monday. No, really.

Aw, c'mon...I mean it.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Ben Ali

Washington DC lost a great one. But they'll always have those fantastic half smokes. My last time at Bens Chili Bowl was July 6 this year, just before Sonic Youth played the 9:30 Club. While Patrick and I chowed down on sloppy, not-nutritious goodness, our friend from Seattle downplayed her chili order and claimed Bens was overrated because "it's been around for a long time."

Three weeks later, when I spoke with Steve Shelley, he said that the band had hit up Bens that day as well, and even proceeded to give a brief explanation of the Bowl and its history to my Canadian buddies.

Ben Ali is gone. The Chili Bowl lives on.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

News Feed Bag

"No Setlist" made the official Sonic Youth news page and is thusly also on sonicyouth.com. Being featured on Myspace, Facebook, and Saucer-Like...awesome. This? Awesomosity.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

All You Need Is...

I love the Beatles. I've ordered the Mono box set, 'cause I wanna hear their albums (save Let It Be and Abbey Road) the way the band and Mr. Martin intended. Abbey Road is in my top 25 albums of all time, and the Beatles in my list of top 10 favorite bands.

Entertainment Weekly actually got it right. "All You Need Is Love" is not the worst Beatles song ever ("Rocky Raccoon") but it is terribly overrated and deserves a spot on the top 5 at least. If McCartney had written/sang this treacle, it would not be universally beloved as a masterfully constructed pop/baroque classic that poignantly demonstrates the outsized, imperfect heart and soul of its creator. No, the consensus would be, "More gutless Macca fluff."

And it is gutless fluff. I don't care what classical references the song opens with. I don't care how many people gathered for a live broadcast, nor do I care that there was a live broadcast. It's hippie garbage. "It's easy." No it's not. "All you need is love." Clearly that's false. You need love, first for yourself, then for others. Then you'll need a whoooooolllllllle bunch of other stuff. How about some answers? I mean other than "learn how to play the game." What fucking game? Beatleopoly? Is "Helter Skelter" the Boardwalk, 'cause it should be.

Monday, August 31, 2009

Peanuts Is Timeless, Eating Up Mice

Oh by all means, let's open the field for some new up-and-coming "talent" without one nth of the genius of Aaron McGruder, much less Charles Schulz. There will be no more stars to emerge from the comic strip world; deal with it and run "Peanuts" till all paper on Earth disintegrates.

Don't get salty.

This person wins merely for loving "She's a Good Skate."

Friday, August 28, 2009

Words

"Schism" is not that rare of a word. Fucks sake, Anthrax titled a song "Schism" back in '88. Tool recorded a song called "Schism." Clearly it's not just the province of stuffy professorial types.

Also, if you can't tell Jared Allen is being sarcastic in this video, and you're an American, you prove my Euro friends right: we can't tell sarcasm for shit.

Reading this here article reminded me of when that douchewar Fred Durst caught flying screaming crap for using the word "agreeance," or the disbelief over Roger Clemens' claim that someone sometime "misremembered" something. People were aghast: those aren't words! Except they are. (I actually use "misremembered" in No Setlist, in a review that predates the Clemens steroid saga.)

That's why I love words. You can confuse people with them.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Peanuts Is Timeless, Pt. Let's Play Hungry Hungry Hippos

Everyone loves Snoopy. Having been there recently, I can tell you that Knotts Berry Farm is as delightful as advertised.

Cubs, Yankees...why do loser fanbases keep getting Snoopy toys?

"Let's not forget the Great Pumpkin." But let's forget that said beneficient fruit-god was actually a belief of Linus', not Charlie Browns.

No, still don't like the Skins.

Health care controversy means more football gag references.

You can never have enough hats, gloves, and ugly shoes.

New DVD, three days before my 32nd birthday!

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Beatles "Rock Band" Tracklist Unveiled--Almost

Per this here....44 of the 45 songs that will appear on the game that singlehandedly justifies the entire franchise.

I Saw Her Standing There
Boys
Do You Want To Know A Secret
Twist And Shout
I Wanna Be Your Man
I Want To Hold Your Hand
A Hard Day's Night
Can't Buy Me Love
I Feel Fine
Eight Days A Week
Ticket To Ride
Day Tripper
Drive My Car
I'm Looking Through You
If I Needed Someone
Paperback Writer
Taxman
Yellow Submarine
And Your Bird Can Sing
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
With A Little Help From My Friends
Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds
Getting Better
Good Morning Good Morning
I Am The Walrus
Hello Goodbye
Revolution
Back In The U.S.S.R.
Dear Prudence
While My Guitar Gently Weeps
Birthday
Helter Skelter
Hey Bulldog
Don't Let Me Down
Come Together
Something
Octopus's Garden
I Want You (She's So Heavy)
Here Comes The Sun
Dig A Pony
I Me Mine
I've Got A Feeling
Get Back
Within You Without You / Tomorrow Never Knows

"Octopus's Garden"? Jesus.

Monday, August 17, 2009

Peanuts is Timeless, Pt. Welcome Back

Mama Cass, contrary to popular legend, did not choke. Tiger Woods however--he totally gagged. And I couldn't be happier. There's nothing I love more than watching a gargantuan bubble being popped. Well, that's a lie. How fuckin' sad would my life be if I loved nothing more than that? But it is a great feeling. Dude's human after all. Moving on!

Happiness is a warm puppy. Warm puppies ain't funny.

Sarah Palin is arguably the most worthless human being on the face of the Earth made to believe they have some sort of worth, and she (along with her hysterical ilk) won't be happy till they have Obama--at the very least--de-balled.

Saturday, August 15, 2009

Baby Penguins To Mama No No NO

Last night Patrick called me from his tech-free sanctuary in Fenwick Island, DE. Casual yak ensued, leading him to ask if I was anticipating the new Madden game for the Wii. Why yes of course, I responded, I would like that game very much.

Then, my dear friend was suddenly struck.

"Hey. You have wireless now, right?"

"Yeees."

"So you can download games off the Wii virtual console."

You magnificent bus stop.

My Wii now has stored within: Ice Climbers, Ninja Gaiden, Super Mario 3, Donkey Kong Country and Super Mario 64 (the latter two playable thanks to my Gamecube controller).

This is not good. Oh, don't misunderstand, it's actually great to that part of my brain that is perpetually in the mid-to-late-90s and craves nothing more or less than virtual challenges and accomplishments of varying bits scrolling up down and across my flat screen. Smashing ice, sticking to walls, warping via whistle, collecting bananas, saving that baby penguin and delivering him hence to Mama...part of me (a considerable part) is in heaven.

But then I have to pay heed to that other part, the more mature side of myself that Jenn circa 1995 would not even recognize as a personal goal capable of achieving. Holding up a stopwatch, reminding me that fun and games are well and good, but I have greater things on the horizon. I have words to write down on empty sheets of paper, thoughts to distill, situations to bring into the light, people to recussitate.

It's a challenge.

Monday, August 10, 2009

Yes Fuppets

Mighty blog Fuppets has blessed "No Setlist" with a wonderful review. It's the first in-depth review online of the book, and what more can I say, he gets it.

The Summer of Jenn

My West Coast jaunt included seven Sonic Youth shows in six states, meeting both Lee Ranaldo and Steve Shelley (including a two-hour convo with the latter and other friends in a Portland bar), and two emotionally charged incidents registering at the extreme ends of the spectrum. Neither of which, clearly, I am ready to discuss on a public forum.

But I can tell you this...with "No Setlist" a pure hit, it's only inspired me to get my other stuff--my first novel, first volume of poetry--out there. I think it's that time.

Monday, July 20, 2009

Peanuts Is Timeless, Pt. BOOKS

Whoa! What a poster that would make.

I still don't like ice skating.

I'll be there August 7th.

Friday, July 17, 2009

Update

I just acquired an ISBN # for No Setlist, and tomorrow I'll be ordering barcode stickers. This helps my chances of getting the book on actual bookstore shelves and is necessary to sell it on Amazon (awaiting order confirmation).

Taking at least one on my West Coast trip, for Names. Kegmama will have hers by then, and I have no idea if Chris wants one or not. As far as copies for the band...this is why I wish Patrick was going with me. He'd make me approach a member, likely Lee or Steve. He'd make me tell them who I was and what I had done and that's my Sonic Youth book on their Myspace, Facebook, and forum pages.

I don't know what scares me more: approaching them in person about this book, or the possibility they may not really be too concerned about it.

Every artist--and please understand I am not just some bum-ass fan with a hair up her ass, I have dreamt of being a published author since age ten--has fears. But they also need strength.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

No Setlist On Sale Now

What do you do when you see your favorite band perform live 40 times over 11 years? If you're an aspiring author like Jenn Benningfield, you write a book about it. No Setlist is not just a compilation of Sonic Youth concert reviews covering the time period May 1998 to May 2009. It is more than anything else an unabashed love story--of the creative spirit, of friends, of discoveries, of life. Aided and abetted by 44 pages of tremendous color photos (some personal, most shots from select concerts), these journals immerse you into the experience of countless miles on the bus or plane, exploring the sights, and meeting numerous other Sonic Youth fans at home and abroad. No Setlist is a must-have for not only Sonic Youth fans, but also anyone seeking to understand the unique mindset of that beautiful beast, the "hardcore fan."

Visit this site to see more info and place your order.

This is my first book, and I'm beyond thrilled to finally have it out. This has been my dream since I was ten years old.

Monday, July 13, 2009

Return of the Rabbit

August 31st brings a new Jim O'Rourke, The Visitor, and it is long overdue--eight years, in fact.

I'll never forget when, in 2003, Mr. O'Rourke contacted me via the Sonic Youth forum and asked for my opinion on some of his lyrics, and most of all his style of lyricism. I gave an honest opinion back, as a Jim O superfan, and got a fantastic response. His curiosity stemmed from his professed desire to make another "song-based" solo album.

It's funny, just the other night I was listening to Joanna Newsom and recalling O'Rourke's genius marketing idea for her album Ys: a photograph of Joanna with the word MUSIC above it and the words IS BACK below it. How can you not dig that guy.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Peanuts Is Timeless, Pt. Um Yeah

Second instance I've seen of Cujo and Snoopy being juxtaposed for sake of contrast, the first being Joseph Wambaugh's novel The Secrets of Harry Bright.

Even though Schulz felt Mr. Bright was seeing gold where mere bricks stood, his book is a classic that every Peanuts fan should read.

China and Japan both need to get their Lucy up, if you ask me.

My schedule of Peanuts show reviews will get back on track once I make the move to Montgomery County. And yes, please buy the sixties set. The Guaraldi doc along must be worth it.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

I'm Still Here

Just saw four Sonic Youth shows in six days, and am currently waiting for corrected proofs of "No Setlist." All goes well, it will be up for sale starting Friday. If you are reading this and are a SY.com forum member, you get a special discount.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

The Lesson of Michael Jackson

There's lotsa undesirable types in the world: racists, sexists, homophobes, xenophobes. There's murderers, rapists, pedophiles, drug abusers, inveterate woman beaters.

The shelves that hold my CDs, DVDs and books contain works of art made by a variety of undesirable types. If Michael Jackson did in fact molest young boys--and it's amazing how many people are convinced that it is a fact, how they seem to want it to be a fact--then his albums remain a part of my rotation. I can no more get rid of it then trash books by Burroughs, music by Miles, or films by Polanski.

There's art. There's the artist. Inextricably linked? To my mind, no.