There are tons of free agents in the big leagues this year, over nine! Baseball players without a contract can "file" until Thursday, November 13, but can only sign with their own team. But on Friday, anything goes, and cheating on your team is totally cool! You can sign anywhere you want, for any money you want! Except Pittsburgh. No one ever signs in Pittsburgh. Stay away from Pittsburgh, black death.
Now if your star player cheats on you, don't worry! You can find a new star by robbing the cradle of a high school varsity team! The teams that lose their best players get compensatory, or "sad", draft picks based on how heartbroken they'll be. Type "A" players merit two sad picks. Type "B" players merit one sad pick. Type "Mark Mulder" players merit exhalations and joy for the village. Lo, there is a hog roasting for all to feast, and the burning of embers to ward off rotator cuff demons!
Let's look at where some of the more interesting free agents are expected to go.
Bobby Abreu: First in your program and tenth in your heart, Abreu has become one of the best players that absolutely no one likes, at all. From his bloated $16 million salary to his incredibly boring .300/.370/.470 stat line to his bizarre, quasi-sexual Venezuelan nickname ("The Candy Eater"), Bobby's done more than enough to earn your enmity and scorn. But what about earning a paycheck? Abreu's probably going to go back to the Yankees, but at a reduced average salary, probably $13 million and only for nine years instead of the normal 12 the Yanks offer outfielders over 30.
Trevor Hoffman: Kansas City, and it won't be pretty. Trevor throws about 81 mph now. He's 41 years old. The Royals play a lot of day games, and the field can heat up to about 120 degrees. Enjoy that August, Trevor!
Pat Burrell: Much like Red Sox 3B Mike Lowell, Burrell is suddenly immensely popular in his old ballpark, and Phillies fans are urging him to stay. Thousands of Philly residents chanted "Bring Back Pat", which almost rhymes, at the championship parade. Even more passionate fans showed their love for Burrell by tipping over cars, vomiting into mailboxes, and sexually assaulting ladycops before being taintzered. Pat the Bat will now undoubtedly resign with the Phillies for $13 million a season, making him immediately overpaid, lazy, and BOOOOOOOOOOO. In other Philadelphia news, Andy Reid just called a timeout in last Sunday's Giants-Eagles tilt. Excitement!
Moises Alou: About to ink a longterm deal with HPV, ensuring neither go away for a long long time.
Francisco Rodriguez: The Angels closer set a major league record for saves this season, and if the Hall of Fame career of Bobby Thigpen is any indication, K-Rod goin' get PAID. Look for the Tigers to offer him four years at $14 million a season, and look for him to be out of baseball by 30, confidence shattered the first day of Spring Training when an enraged Jim Leyland declares "Glasses are for nancies" and slaps Frankie across the face with a lit Pall Mall.
Mark Prior: Going back to USC to give this "business administration" thing a real shot.
Omar Vizquel: He only hit .226 this season, but he's a clubhouse favorite. Young players sit around Vizquel's plastic-covered locker and watch with rapt attention as Omar gently hands out Werther's Originals and crafts stories about the time with two Ken Griffeys, or long ago, when Barry Bonds had a normal sized head just like you and me. During offseason workouts in October, he turns out the lights in the training room, handing out "devil's rings" (actually bat donuts) and telling scary tales of Albert Belle. He's going somewhere in Florida, for a pension and a diner where they serve breakfast all day long, and look at these eggs, dollar fifty eggs!
David Eckstein: Going to South America and joining Captain Planet's team. He will replace Ma-Ti, who signed with the Reds. Terms undisclosed.
Darren Oliver: Oliver's splits as a reliever this season: .197 BA and .549 OPS against at home, and .315 BA and .825 OPS against on road. Naturally, Oliver is signing with the showers, as that's where he feels most comfortable. He was tempted to be the official pitcher of the fifth inning, but desired a longer contract, into the sixth, and was laughed away. Somehow, he is a type "A" free agent. No joke here.
Curt Schilling: Not so much a free agent move, but in a trade, wifeswapping with Todd Palin. Schilling remains John McCain's third favorite baseball player behind Cap Anson and Negro league star "Cool Papa" Bell, whom McCain taught how to bunt.
Brian Fuentes: Almost certainly going to end up a Met, bolstering their bullpen. Wonderful deal. Fuentes has a history of jumping ship at key times, exactly what the Mets need to defend their back-to-back collapse titles. In August 2008, in the middle of a road trip in California, Fuentes left the team and was placed on something called a "bereavement list". What's the matter, Brian? Sad your team was eight games under .500 and you had to face Tim Lincecum? Cry your tears. It's selfish play and being a chickenshit crybaby that will fit in wonderfully in the Met bullpen, especially now that Billy Wagner is dead.
Rocco Baldelli: Donating his body to science. Unfortunately, did not realize he could wait until after death. While attempting to sign new papers, WHO representatives bludgeoned him with a mallet and quickly removed his frontal lobe. Before losing consciousness, Baldelli suddenly was able to understand Joe Morgan's genius.
C.C. Sabathia: Big fat C.C. had a big fat season, playing out the string in Cleveland but then moving to Milwaukee and compiling a 34-0 record, with a negative seven Earned Run Average. Then in October, he turned back into a big fat guy, and his big fat pitches got hit right on their big fat ends by Philly bats in a Game 2 NLDS rout. Now Sabathia wants to head west, and even the Brewers' "Seriously, Every Fucking Brat In The City" deal doesn't look like enough. The Yankees, Dodgers, and Angels are tops on the prospective list. Brian Cashman has proposed a creative deal where, over the course of Sabathia's seven year deal, he would gradually assume dominion over the country of Sweden. "We Yankees are proud to offer CC only the finest women, picturesque scenery, and the most delicious meatballs this Scandinavian stronghold has. We pay tribute to the thousands of Bronx-area construction workers, plumbers, and NYPD who perished in the battle to subdue the Swedes in the name of ring 27." "Go Yankees!" added Stockholm mayor Rudolph Giuliani. The Angels are more coy on their offer, but it apparently has something to do with free nachos and a buddy comedy with Disney using the Rally Monkey as a lawless cowboy. The Dodgers have less financial assets than Hank Steinbrenner or Hank Moreno, but they can offer Sabathia National League baseball, with its crappier lineups and chance for CC to hit and run the bases "like a real big leaguer, honest!" Sabathia is expected to sign, and assume the responsibility of Chavez Ravine ace from the first day of spring training all the way to the final out of September 30.
Adam Dunn: Wherever a maiden shrieks and faints, Adam Dunn is there. Wherever a family can't pay the mortgage, Adam Dunn is there. Wherever Justice needs a leg-up over the walls of chaos, Adam Dunn is there. Wherever a team will pony up $15.75 million for a laughable corner outfield and 175 strikeouts per year, Adam Dunn is there.
Jim Edmonds: Not St. Louis, I'll tell you that!
Manny Ramirez: It's been an interesting offseason for Manny. While Schilling appeared with John McCain in New Hampshire the day before the election, Ramirez was at a Barack Obama rally. Manny wasn't sure what was going on, or how he had ended up in rural Pennsylvania in the first place, but he had a good time. The Dodgers are planning to offer him nearly $26 million dollars per season, though they'd be better served by just bypassing negotiations and handing more orphans to the blood-tipped fangs of Scott Boras. Asked to comment, Boras pensively put forth a "Bleh!" and stalked away. New York Mets GM Omar Minaya is always on the lookout to add players whose names end in Z, so watch out there. (This may backfire for him, as evidenced by the 3 year, $42 million contract Minaya just handed out to a grill-laden, Oakley-wearing and backwards-shorts donning "Jamie Moyerz".) We could be in for a long wait. Manny has expressed on one or more occasion over the past season an interest in playing for the Yankees, Angels, Phillies, Giants, Diamondbacks, Red Sox, Brewers, Mariners, Blue Jays, Rangers, Rockies, Twins, Marlins, Braves, Tigers, Orioles, Cubs, As, Indians, Expos, Rays, Cardinals, Royals, Astros, Padres, White Sox, and Reds. Current sources list him as favoring the Chunichi Dragons, as Ramirez has often stated he'd like to "try the NL once, man."
Any other free agents you're curious about? Well, stop it. The above players are the only good players in baseball.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
11 (Or is it 12?) Madonna Songs That Turn Me Into A Woman
Bout a month ago, Madonna turned 50 years old. Outside of politicians or sports coaches, 50 is a difficult age to retain influence, much less relevance. Madonna has never been much for rules, however, and thus it's no surprise that she still exists within the mainstream of popular culture; hell, she had a top 5 hit over the summer without it being an ironic, Cliff Richards wink. Quick aside: Madonna actually invented the "mainstream" we talk about today, committing so many vile and outrageous acts in the 1980s and 1990s that eventually her critics became numb, and her fans became this generations acolytes and copycats. American Pie puts jizz in a beer and engages in pastral intercourse? Shrug, yawn, M. Louise Ciccone mouthsexed a water bottle a decade earlier. Ellen Degeneres comes out of the closet and confronts the nation? The Material Girl and Sandra Bernhard were canoodling in public before Ellen was a glint in Jerry Seinfeld's eye. Tom Cruise and Scientology? Kaballah and a big black Jesus, anyone? Tony Romo and Jessica Simpson, meet beau Dennis Rodman. And Britney, sweet Britney, whose last six years or so seem almost an experiment in idol worship and destruction? She's young enough to be Madonna's daughter. God knows she's close enough.
Also, I lover her music. God knows her voice has been lambasted enough ("as plastic as Ziplock without the tightness" are the words of just one critic I made up), but to diss her music because her voice isn't classical is akin to complain about gas mileage on a Lamborghini. You're not driving the car to admire the efficiency. Her glitz, televised worldwide, set the curve for a solid twenty years, her sound always stayed one step ahead of it; we've heard everything from disco to trip-hop to Lloyd Webber.
So why leave her as a gift to one gender? Last time I checked my y chromosome didn't prevent me from working ears. As such, here are about a baker's dozen of songs that get my ass off the couch and dance. Sadly, they've never sparked an interest in S&M or fake British accents.
In no particular order
1) Don't Tell Me (Music, single eleased 2001)
It's the second single from the album, and as fun as it is to shimmy to the title track, a dentist drill electronica with staccato beeps presumably from an old Atari, Don't Tell Me is just a better song, a little twang hook, and drum machine, and spare strings when needed. Unlike so much of her late 90s candy, the song doesn't start at 11 and pulse higher. I don't need to drop E tablets and hump a lamp, pacifier in my mouth. I just want to enjoy the sound. Don't Tell Me's just a tossed off poppy time. (<---------CONCLUSION SENTENCE) Plus the video has gay cowboys, four years before Brokeback! (<---------NOT CONCLUSION SENTENCE)
2) Into The Groove (Angel maxi-single, released 1985)
"You can dance....for inspiration....come on!" The call to arms. Starts with the chorus, doesn't let go, a gem about the night, and the music, and the love. Probably caused countless cases of the clap. The little piano in the bridge? Phenomenal; she manages to boost the production while convincing no one that actual instruments matter to her. The little pregnant pause between "touch" and "my body" adds too. Maybe the one song that makes me want to buy hot pants. You know, more pairs.
3) Crazy For You (Vision Quest soundtrack [!], released 1985)
The very definition of an 80s ballad. Berlin would have made this song 8 minutes long. Even her slow songs give the impression they're about to explode just around the corner. Towards the end of the song, she sings the title a few times, and then goes right into the low-voiced spoken "crazy for you", like she was joking around in a karaoke bar. Somehow this song is good, you must listen to me.
4) Secret (Bedtime Stories, released 1994)
Maybe the song that revitalized her career, coming after the borderline awful Erotica album. Featuring a video chock full of her love of skinny androgynous black men with piercings, Secret actually sounds like several of the instruments are real, and builds a vocal and string tension. Also, any chorus with an "mmm...mmm..." always gets points from me. I like to vacuum with this song on. I have no idea what that means in terms of the actual "secret" from the song. The vocal is just whisper-sung enough to get everyone up and moving. According to wikipedia, this song was promoted on the internets in nineteen ninety friggin four. What?
5) Justify My Love (The Immaculate Collection, released 1990)
Those two whirling siren notes at the beginning of the song...the moaning backing vocal...the vague sense that Prince is singing somewhere...the sexually pained but ultimately nonthreatening laundry list vocal ("I wanna kiss you in Paris/I wanna hold your hand in Rome/I wanna run naked in a rainstorm"...oh noes!): it's all Super Great. As far as I know, it's the first all-whisper vocal she ever tried, which made it fresh then. I was about 5 years old, and I think it's best I did not know about this song then, as it would have led to early-onset puberty and would have killed my mother as well. I wonder if she knows whether Madonna exists.
6) Human Nature (Bedtime Stories, released 1995)
It's her most nasally vocal. She uses the lyric "I'm not your bitch/Don't hang your shit on me". It sounds like a mix of the synth from Thriller and early G-Funk. I'm about 90% confident she's trying to channel Snoop Dogg on this track. Scuse me, Snoop Doggy Dogg. Whose fucking idea was it to put "Doggy" between Snoop and Dogg 18 years ago? Terrible idea, unless it was Suge Knight. Then, great idea! Anyway, the song begins to end with a little gnarl guitar, which makes it worth the price of admission. Wait...youtube is free...what a deal!!! Minus points for the use of snapping; no good song resorts to the snap.
7) Holiday (Madonna, released 1983)
What the hell the beeping sound effects are between every line in the song, I will never know. They sound like electronic gerbils. For all I know, they are. Kudos to the lo-fi "live" music video, perfected by Rock With Me. That cost Jacko about $82.75. Holiday, to its credit, is a better song, sung fairly impressively--she does her own backing vocals and occasionally double-tracks them--and projects fun more than almost any of her later "serious" works. This ain't no pop song calculation, this is pure. I swerve around the highway when this song is playing. I'm the one driving the sand colored Buick across 93, yelling "oh yeah, oh yeah". Not like the Kool-Aid man.
8) Rain (Erotica, single released 2003)
Just kidding. No one likes Rain.
8) Vogue (I'm Breathless: Music from and Inspired by the film Dick Tracy, no, I'm not kidding, that's the whole silly title, released 1990)
Ladies with an attitude
Fellows that were in the mood
Don't just stand there, let's get to it
Strike a pose, there's nothing to it.
9) Papa Don't Preach (True Blue, released 1986)
Kicking off with Big Important Strings, Madonna's first Big Important Message dealt with teen pregnancy, and the controversy was over the kid would be adopted or raised in the family. Abortion shows up nowhere, and yet it was protested by about 90 organizations, one of which involved Tipper Gore, so it automatically gets my approval for pissing her off. How in the world did Madonna get away with playing Eva Peron? The tune itself is surprisingly gentle for such a life-or-death epic (my words), with a series of Christmasy chimes, little egg shakers, and a Spanish guitar interlude. Whatever you want, that's fine.
10) Ray Of Light (Ray of Light, released 1998)
About 15 seconds in, this song goes nuts. It remains that way for the next five minutes, briefly increasing into I believe liquid. I hate to be douche-y and use words like "most liberated vocal", so let me just say I'm guessing it was easy for her to sing this. Probably the first song where everyone listening thought to themselves, "Damn, she's had a really good career", likely because she had gone about 2 and half years by this time without publicly blowing anyone or mounting anything. The chorus and instrumental are the most danceable she ever was, early 80s moustache disco be damned. I once cleaned my basement to this tune, sped up when the song did, and smashed my knee on a table. These are not proud confessions, dear reader.
11) I'll Remember (With Honors soundtrack, released 1994)
I grew up listening to 92 PRO-FM, a pop station in Providence, Rhode Island. Nowadays nothing less R&B than say Rihanna is allowed on the air, but back in the day it was the place for hot music. I knew nothing of a rock guitar at this time in my life. I don't think it was til about age 12 that I knew Kurt Cobain was dead, and not until about 1998 til I knew that was important. As such, this is what I grew up with, and this is why like 11 people remember this song. I think the music on this song was made on a Mac. There's great emotion in her vocal, which is of course a lie as most all her music is made explicitly to convince people there's great emotion, which then means that perhaps there is real emotion...you just made my head explode, Ciccone. Well played. Also, this continues her trend of very good singles in movies while she herself only appears in terrible films. I'll give you a nice kitten, and make you watch Body of Evidence, Desperately Seeking Susan, and Dangerous Game. You make it through those three without strangling the cat, and I'll give you $75. That's right: in my world, cats' lives are worth less than a Dell battery.
12) Beautiful Stranger (Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me soundtrack, released 1999)
Has any movie aged worse than that one? I was going to put "Take a Bow" here but it's too maudlin, was going to put "4 Minutes" here but it's too new (who knew 8 years ago that of Madonna and Justin Timberlake, liking Madonna would make you seem more gay?), was going to put "American Pie" but I hate it and she ruined the original, and so settled on this. It's clear enough to me that Madonna wanted to live in the 60s and instead, because she became famous in the 80s, had to constantly battle the socially conservative attitudes of the Reagan/Falwell/Thatcher era, rather than live her life fucking around and doing what she wanted beyond squeamish public reproach. (Of course, those tsk-tskers were the people that made her so stratospherically popular in the first place, but that's a story for another time.) She herself said the first song to make an impression on her was Nancy Sinatra's "These Boots Were Made For Walking". Thus it follows that her 60s homage here kicked ass, from the opening kicks to the psychedelic fife type thing to close the tune. Da-da-da-dum da-dum da-dum da da da-da dum.
13) Like A Prayer (Like A Prayer, released 1989)
Let's just get this out of the way: gospel choirs make every song better. Without gospel choirs, Under The Bridge would be a weak B-side to Give It Away rather than the only song to battle Everlong for the title of "What do you mean you don't like that song? Everyone likes that song." Without gospel choirs, Paul Simon would probably be remembered as the shorter hippie without the Jew fro, instead of the architect of Graceland and the destroyer of apartheid. Yes, we're stretching here (Lady Black Mambazo technically isn't a gospel group and Nelson Mandela was important politically too), but you get the point. And without gospel choirs, Madonna wouldn't have blown a $5 million Pepsi contract, wouldn't have pissed off the Right to the point where she could do literally anything from that day onward, and most importantly wouldn't have released this pop opus...actually, let's combine that to the funny looking popopus. There! Another Big Serious Subject somehow is built entirely within a bright, sunny love ditty. One minute, you're dancing, the next you're clapping your hands in that awkward White Man At Choir Way (you look like John Kerry), the next minute, a little more dancing, and then you remember you are defiling Jesus and will assuredly will burn in the Lake of Fire. Not many people you can turn to help from at that point. God?
Well, this turned out longer than I thought. And yet you're still reading. Who's girly now?
Also, I lover her music. God knows her voice has been lambasted enough ("as plastic as Ziplock without the tightness" are the words of just one critic I made up), but to diss her music because her voice isn't classical is akin to complain about gas mileage on a Lamborghini. You're not driving the car to admire the efficiency. Her glitz, televised worldwide, set the curve for a solid twenty years, her sound always stayed one step ahead of it; we've heard everything from disco to trip-hop to Lloyd Webber.
So why leave her as a gift to one gender? Last time I checked my y chromosome didn't prevent me from working ears. As such, here are about a baker's dozen of songs that get my ass off the couch and dance. Sadly, they've never sparked an interest in S&M or fake British accents.
In no particular order
1) Don't Tell Me (Music, single eleased 2001)
It's the second single from the album, and as fun as it is to shimmy to the title track, a dentist drill electronica with staccato beeps presumably from an old Atari, Don't Tell Me is just a better song, a little twang hook, and drum machine, and spare strings when needed. Unlike so much of her late 90s candy, the song doesn't start at 11 and pulse higher. I don't need to drop E tablets and hump a lamp, pacifier in my mouth. I just want to enjoy the sound. Don't Tell Me's just a tossed off poppy time. (<---------CONCLUSION SENTENCE) Plus the video has gay cowboys, four years before Brokeback! (<---------NOT CONCLUSION SENTENCE)
2) Into The Groove (Angel maxi-single, released 1985)
"You can dance....for inspiration....come on!" The call to arms. Starts with the chorus, doesn't let go, a gem about the night, and the music, and the love. Probably caused countless cases of the clap. The little piano in the bridge? Phenomenal; she manages to boost the production while convincing no one that actual instruments matter to her. The little pregnant pause between "touch" and "my body" adds too. Maybe the one song that makes me want to buy hot pants. You know, more pairs.
3) Crazy For You (Vision Quest soundtrack [!], released 1985)
The very definition of an 80s ballad. Berlin would have made this song 8 minutes long. Even her slow songs give the impression they're about to explode just around the corner. Towards the end of the song, she sings the title a few times, and then goes right into the low-voiced spoken "crazy for you", like she was joking around in a karaoke bar. Somehow this song is good, you must listen to me.
4) Secret (Bedtime Stories, released 1994)
Maybe the song that revitalized her career, coming after the borderline awful Erotica album. Featuring a video chock full of her love of skinny androgynous black men with piercings, Secret actually sounds like several of the instruments are real, and builds a vocal and string tension. Also, any chorus with an "mmm...mmm..." always gets points from me. I like to vacuum with this song on. I have no idea what that means in terms of the actual "secret" from the song. The vocal is just whisper-sung enough to get everyone up and moving. According to wikipedia, this song was promoted on the internets in nineteen ninety friggin four. What?
5) Justify My Love (The Immaculate Collection, released 1990)
Those two whirling siren notes at the beginning of the song...the moaning backing vocal...the vague sense that Prince is singing somewhere...the sexually pained but ultimately nonthreatening laundry list vocal ("I wanna kiss you in Paris/I wanna hold your hand in Rome/I wanna run naked in a rainstorm"...oh noes!): it's all Super Great. As far as I know, it's the first all-whisper vocal she ever tried, which made it fresh then. I was about 5 years old, and I think it's best I did not know about this song then, as it would have led to early-onset puberty and would have killed my mother as well. I wonder if she knows whether Madonna exists.
6) Human Nature (Bedtime Stories, released 1995)
It's her most nasally vocal. She uses the lyric "I'm not your bitch/Don't hang your shit on me". It sounds like a mix of the synth from Thriller and early G-Funk. I'm about 90% confident she's trying to channel Snoop Dogg on this track. Scuse me, Snoop Doggy Dogg. Whose fucking idea was it to put "Doggy" between Snoop and Dogg 18 years ago? Terrible idea, unless it was Suge Knight. Then, great idea! Anyway, the song begins to end with a little gnarl guitar, which makes it worth the price of admission. Wait...youtube is free...what a deal!!! Minus points for the use of snapping; no good song resorts to the snap.
7) Holiday (Madonna, released 1983)
What the hell the beeping sound effects are between every line in the song, I will never know. They sound like electronic gerbils. For all I know, they are. Kudos to the lo-fi "live" music video, perfected by Rock With Me. That cost Jacko about $82.75. Holiday, to its credit, is a better song, sung fairly impressively--she does her own backing vocals and occasionally double-tracks them--and projects fun more than almost any of her later "serious" works. This ain't no pop song calculation, this is pure. I swerve around the highway when this song is playing. I'm the one driving the sand colored Buick across 93, yelling "oh yeah, oh yeah". Not like the Kool-Aid man.
8) Rain (Erotica, single released 2003)
Just kidding. No one likes Rain.
8) Vogue (I'm Breathless: Music from and Inspired by the film Dick Tracy, no, I'm not kidding, that's the whole silly title, released 1990)
Ladies with an attitude
Fellows that were in the mood
Don't just stand there, let's get to it
Strike a pose, there's nothing to it.
9) Papa Don't Preach (True Blue, released 1986)
Kicking off with Big Important Strings, Madonna's first Big Important Message dealt with teen pregnancy, and the controversy was over the kid would be adopted or raised in the family. Abortion shows up nowhere, and yet it was protested by about 90 organizations, one of which involved Tipper Gore, so it automatically gets my approval for pissing her off. How in the world did Madonna get away with playing Eva Peron? The tune itself is surprisingly gentle for such a life-or-death epic (my words), with a series of Christmasy chimes, little egg shakers, and a Spanish guitar interlude. Whatever you want, that's fine.
10) Ray Of Light (Ray of Light, released 1998)
About 15 seconds in, this song goes nuts. It remains that way for the next five minutes, briefly increasing into I believe liquid. I hate to be douche-y and use words like "most liberated vocal", so let me just say I'm guessing it was easy for her to sing this. Probably the first song where everyone listening thought to themselves, "Damn, she's had a really good career", likely because she had gone about 2 and half years by this time without publicly blowing anyone or mounting anything. The chorus and instrumental are the most danceable she ever was, early 80s moustache disco be damned. I once cleaned my basement to this tune, sped up when the song did, and smashed my knee on a table. These are not proud confessions, dear reader.
11) I'll Remember (With Honors soundtrack, released 1994)
I grew up listening to 92 PRO-FM, a pop station in Providence, Rhode Island. Nowadays nothing less R&B than say Rihanna is allowed on the air, but back in the day it was the place for hot music. I knew nothing of a rock guitar at this time in my life. I don't think it was til about age 12 that I knew Kurt Cobain was dead, and not until about 1998 til I knew that was important. As such, this is what I grew up with, and this is why like 11 people remember this song. I think the music on this song was made on a Mac. There's great emotion in her vocal, which is of course a lie as most all her music is made explicitly to convince people there's great emotion, which then means that perhaps there is real emotion...you just made my head explode, Ciccone. Well played. Also, this continues her trend of very good singles in movies while she herself only appears in terrible films. I'll give you a nice kitten, and make you watch Body of Evidence, Desperately Seeking Susan, and Dangerous Game. You make it through those three without strangling the cat, and I'll give you $75. That's right: in my world, cats' lives are worth less than a Dell battery.
12) Beautiful Stranger (Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me soundtrack, released 1999)
Has any movie aged worse than that one? I was going to put "Take a Bow" here but it's too maudlin, was going to put "4 Minutes" here but it's too new (who knew 8 years ago that of Madonna and Justin Timberlake, liking Madonna would make you seem more gay?), was going to put "American Pie" but I hate it and she ruined the original, and so settled on this. It's clear enough to me that Madonna wanted to live in the 60s and instead, because she became famous in the 80s, had to constantly battle the socially conservative attitudes of the Reagan/Falwell/Thatcher era, rather than live her life fucking around and doing what she wanted beyond squeamish public reproach. (Of course, those tsk-tskers were the people that made her so stratospherically popular in the first place, but that's a story for another time.) She herself said the first song to make an impression on her was Nancy Sinatra's "These Boots Were Made For Walking". Thus it follows that her 60s homage here kicked ass, from the opening kicks to the psychedelic fife type thing to close the tune. Da-da-da-dum da-dum da-dum da da da-da dum.
13) Like A Prayer (Like A Prayer, released 1989)
Let's just get this out of the way: gospel choirs make every song better. Without gospel choirs, Under The Bridge would be a weak B-side to Give It Away rather than the only song to battle Everlong for the title of "What do you mean you don't like that song? Everyone likes that song." Without gospel choirs, Paul Simon would probably be remembered as the shorter hippie without the Jew fro, instead of the architect of Graceland and the destroyer of apartheid. Yes, we're stretching here (Lady Black Mambazo technically isn't a gospel group and Nelson Mandela was important politically too), but you get the point. And without gospel choirs, Madonna wouldn't have blown a $5 million Pepsi contract, wouldn't have pissed off the Right to the point where she could do literally anything from that day onward, and most importantly wouldn't have released this pop opus...actually, let's combine that to the funny looking popopus. There! Another Big Serious Subject somehow is built entirely within a bright, sunny love ditty. One minute, you're dancing, the next you're clapping your hands in that awkward White Man At Choir Way (you look like John Kerry), the next minute, a little more dancing, and then you remember you are defiling Jesus and will assuredly will burn in the Lake of Fire. Not many people you can turn to help from at that point. God?
Well, this turned out longer than I thought. And yet you're still reading. Who's girly now?
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Sweet Sweet Fantasy
Tonight begins the blessed NFL season, the time of year where most American men and sure why the hell not some women mysteriously find themselves come Sunday unable to answer phone calls, attend to children or yard work, and indeed even serve Jesus Christ who died for your sins, your sins dammit. If you're a fan of, say, the Indianapolis Colts or Dallas Cowboys, you know pretty much what you're in for: 11-14 thoroughly pleasant weekend afternoons replete with nachos, victory cheers, and haughty, fuck-you arrogant phone calls and texts to those less fortunate in where they were born. Conversely, Atlanta Falcons or Oakland Raider rooters may well want to spend their days finding more meaningful and pleasant hobbies, such as cutting or viciously beating the high-schoolers who check receipts at Best Buy.
And as for everyone else, fantasy football makes the day worthwhile.
People living in Denver or Minneapolis or Charlotte face a weekly uncertain challenge, that of pulling for the mediocre. Is it really worth investing 3 hours of a beautiful autumn day to scream and clap and tug on storebought jerseys, all for a random fumble or missed field goal to doom it all into waste? Clearly something else must pass the time. That's where fantasy football comes in. It allows maximum concentration on a minimum amount of players. It often involves a maximum time commitment to ultimately an incredibly minimum gain. It's maximum entertainment for a minimum price. Um...maximum minimum.
If the Saints aren't doing well today, tough luck, it might turn around, but no big loss. But if your team isn't playing well, well, by God, you picked them, and their failures are a reflection of your inability to pay attention. So how can we share these triumphs and decimations with each other when each league is so darn different? Well, it's quite simple. Standardized rules. Here are the new standardized rules for Fantasy Football 2008.
DRAFT: 12 teams, 15 rounds. Everybody's draft position determined randomly. 1st pick in first round is last pick in 2nd round is 1st pick in 3rd round etc. Snakes!
SELECT: 1 QB, 2 RB, 2 WR, 1 RB/WR, 1 TE, 1 K, 1 D, 6 bench slots. Simple enough. If you want to have six kickers on the bench, good for you.
SCORING: For quarterbacks, 1 point for every 30 passing yards, 6 points for each touchdown. -3 points for each interception, -3 points for each fumble. -1 point for each sack, because if you can't get out of the way, shame on you, you man. Bonus 5 points for 300+ yards passing, bonus -5 points for getting injured. Again, shame on you.
For running backs, 1 point for every 10 running yards, 6 points for each touchdown, -4 points for each fumble. Bonus 3 points for 125 yards rushing, 2 points for every positive yardage carry without a helmet.
For wide receivers, 1 point for every 10 receiving yards, 6 points for every touchdown, -3 points for every time someone is afraid to run across the middle. Bonus 3 points for 125 yards receiving, 3 points for every choreographed endzone celebration, -3 points if celebration takes more than 4 seconds to prepare.
For tight ends, 1 point per 5 pounds weight per reception. Tight ends are always underrated. Not anymore.
For kickers, 3 points per field goal. None of this 30+, 40+, 50+ bonus. There's no four point line in football, kids. You get three for a figgie, and one for the extra point. Oh, and -45 for missing one of those. Jerks.
For defenses, if a team allows 1-7 points on the field, that's 10 points for you off it. 7 points 8-14, 3 points 15-20, 0 points 21-27. Team allows 28? You owe 28. Team allows 31? You owe 31. Also, automatic loss of 50 for a shutout. That's meanspirited and has no place in our game.
Also, don't draft Jon Kitna. Jesus is busy enough this year.
And as for everyone else, fantasy football makes the day worthwhile.
People living in Denver or Minneapolis or Charlotte face a weekly uncertain challenge, that of pulling for the mediocre. Is it really worth investing 3 hours of a beautiful autumn day to scream and clap and tug on storebought jerseys, all for a random fumble or missed field goal to doom it all into waste? Clearly something else must pass the time. That's where fantasy football comes in. It allows maximum concentration on a minimum amount of players. It often involves a maximum time commitment to ultimately an incredibly minimum gain. It's maximum entertainment for a minimum price. Um...maximum minimum.
If the Saints aren't doing well today, tough luck, it might turn around, but no big loss. But if your team isn't playing well, well, by God, you picked them, and their failures are a reflection of your inability to pay attention. So how can we share these triumphs and decimations with each other when each league is so darn different? Well, it's quite simple. Standardized rules. Here are the new standardized rules for Fantasy Football 2008.
DRAFT: 12 teams, 15 rounds. Everybody's draft position determined randomly. 1st pick in first round is last pick in 2nd round is 1st pick in 3rd round etc. Snakes!
SELECT: 1 QB, 2 RB, 2 WR, 1 RB/WR, 1 TE, 1 K, 1 D, 6 bench slots. Simple enough. If you want to have six kickers on the bench, good for you.
SCORING: For quarterbacks, 1 point for every 30 passing yards, 6 points for each touchdown. -3 points for each interception, -3 points for each fumble. -1 point for each sack, because if you can't get out of the way, shame on you, you man. Bonus 5 points for 300+ yards passing, bonus -5 points for getting injured. Again, shame on you.
For running backs, 1 point for every 10 running yards, 6 points for each touchdown, -4 points for each fumble. Bonus 3 points for 125 yards rushing, 2 points for every positive yardage carry without a helmet.
For wide receivers, 1 point for every 10 receiving yards, 6 points for every touchdown, -3 points for every time someone is afraid to run across the middle. Bonus 3 points for 125 yards receiving, 3 points for every choreographed endzone celebration, -3 points if celebration takes more than 4 seconds to prepare.
For tight ends, 1 point per 5 pounds weight per reception. Tight ends are always underrated. Not anymore.
For kickers, 3 points per field goal. None of this 30+, 40+, 50+ bonus. There's no four point line in football, kids. You get three for a figgie, and one for the extra point. Oh, and -45 for missing one of those. Jerks.
For defenses, if a team allows 1-7 points on the field, that's 10 points for you off it. 7 points 8-14, 3 points 15-20, 0 points 21-27. Team allows 28? You owe 28. Team allows 31? You owe 31. Also, automatic loss of 50 for a shutout. That's meanspirited and has no place in our game.
Also, don't draft Jon Kitna. Jesus is busy enough this year.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Headlines Of History, Unite!
The big story thisa weeka involves two stories, so, lies already.
The first is the whuh, huh, whoaa, ohhh, waaaahhh, huhhh, awwww of Hurricane Gustav, who snootily stormed into the Gulf of Mexico and is on his way back to the mists without
so much as a Spike Lee short. But that has barely overshadowed the waaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh of Governor Sarah Palin (AIP - AK) and her gosh darn inspirin can-do pilgrimage to all those fatcats in Waaaashington, dontchaknow. Senator McCain chose her essay above the 22,000 others and has brought her on his ticket, presumably a ticket with "Andrea Doria" written proudly upon it.
Both of these stories have been huge because of their unintended consequences: Gustav pushed thousands of residents out of New Orleans for (apparently) no apparent reason, since the hurricane didn't destroy the world, and Palin's almost impossibly checkered past is causing a wee bit of trouble in John McCain's campaign to not be a nation-wide laughingstock of incompetent planning, research, decision-making, and general unshittiness. Also, she had a baby and now her baby havin a baby and mmhmm it on now girl!
Yet led by the important news outlets of our time, CNN and Fox News (both high-powered by the electric generator connected to the spinning drybones of Ed Murrow), most media outlets choose not to look at the issues on their face value. But why would they? For example in the Gustav story, New Orleans mayor Ray Nagin, in conjunction with governor Bobby Jindal and FEMA Administrator R. David Paulson, decided to order a mandatory evacuation on Sunday in anticipation of the Monday morning hurricane strike, thus ordering over 200,000 NOLA residents out of the city and jamming the Louisiana and Mississippi state highways with over 1.9 million people over the weekend and despite the inflated estimate of $10 billion in oil damages the strength of the reinforced levees combined with the weakness and trajectory of the storm's landfall means thousands of families are stranded outside the state waiting for a slow-coming ok to come back into the blah blah blah you stopped reading this a fucking hour ago. That was just the abstract! THE ABSTRACT!
So instead, the next best thing is to look at the news the way the news was meant to be looked...at. We're gonna look at it like sports. Winners and losers, baby.
"McCain Turns Gustav Into an Asset"
"Gustav Could Be Boon To GOP"
"Palin Pioneer, Maverick, and now a Game Changer"
"Did The Media Take Swipes At Sarah Palin?"
The latter being, of course, a special report by the media. These are just an example of the fantastic journalistic activity in the nation right now. And boy oh boy do they pay tribute to the past standards of excellence, following in line with famous headlines of years past:
"Big Fat Gain For Big Fat Taft: Our Vessels Don't Sink And Drown 1,500"
"Japan Attacks Pearl Harbor, Apparent Benefit For Japan War Machine"
"Reagan's State Of Union Buoyed By Emotional Prayer For Lost Challenger; Oh, No One Told You? Yeah, They Exploded"
"LBJ To Stay In Play With JFK's Brains All Astray"
"Royal Family Stands To Lose After Antoinette, Louis Beheadings"
Facts are boring. Scores are not! 1-0, scores!
The first is the whuh, huh, whoaa, ohhh, waaaahhh, huhhh, awwww of Hurricane Gustav, who snootily stormed into the Gulf of Mexico and is on his way back to the mists without
so much as a Spike Lee short. But that has barely overshadowed the waaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh of Governor Sarah Palin (AIP - AK) and her gosh darn inspirin can-do pilgrimage to all those fatcats in Waaaashington, dontchaknow. Senator McCain chose her essay above the 22,000 others and has brought her on his ticket, presumably a ticket with "Andrea Doria" written proudly upon it.
Both of these stories have been huge because of their unintended consequences: Gustav pushed thousands of residents out of New Orleans for (apparently) no apparent reason, since the hurricane didn't destroy the world, and Palin's almost impossibly checkered past is causing a wee bit of trouble in John McCain's campaign to not be a nation-wide laughingstock of incompetent planning, research, decision-making, and general unshittiness. Also, she had a baby and now her baby havin a baby and mmhmm it on now girl!
Yet led by the important news outlets of our time, CNN and Fox News (both high-powered by the electric generator connected to the spinning drybones of Ed Murrow), most media outlets choose not to look at the issues on their face value. But why would they? For example in the Gustav story, New Orleans mayor Ray Nagin, in conjunction with governor Bobby Jindal and FEMA Administrator R. David Paulson, decided to order a mandatory evacuation on Sunday in anticipation of the Monday morning hurricane strike, thus ordering over 200,000 NOLA residents out of the city and jamming the Louisiana and Mississippi state highways with over 1.9 million people over the weekend and despite the inflated estimate of $10 billion in oil damages the strength of the reinforced levees combined with the weakness and trajectory of the storm's landfall means thousands of families are stranded outside the state waiting for a slow-coming ok to come back into the blah blah blah you stopped reading this a fucking hour ago. That was just the abstract! THE ABSTRACT!
So instead, the next best thing is to look at the news the way the news was meant to be looked...at. We're gonna look at it like sports. Winners and losers, baby.
"McCain Turns Gustav Into an Asset"
"Gustav Could Be Boon To GOP"
"Palin Pioneer, Maverick, and now a Game Changer"
"Did The Media Take Swipes At Sarah Palin?"
The latter being, of course, a special report by the media. These are just an example of the fantastic journalistic activity in the nation right now. And boy oh boy do they pay tribute to the past standards of excellence, following in line with famous headlines of years past:
"Big Fat Gain For Big Fat Taft: Our Vessels Don't Sink And Drown 1,500"
"Japan Attacks Pearl Harbor, Apparent Benefit For Japan War Machine"
"Reagan's State Of Union Buoyed By Emotional Prayer For Lost Challenger; Oh, No One Told You? Yeah, They Exploded"
"LBJ To Stay In Play With JFK's Brains All Astray"
"Royal Family Stands To Lose After Antoinette, Louis Beheadings"
Facts are boring. Scores are not! 1-0, scores!
Sunday, August 31, 2008
A Haiku Collection, For The Man Who Threw Up Everywhere At The Labor Day Barbecue
Have we met before?
I recall your name was Art
Or Andy, something.
Anyway, you were
In the middle of handle
Number two already.
Funny thing, vodka
Clear liquid but its results
Visibly shock guests.
So, not too stunning
When your spew decorated
Paul's tile bathroom floor.
Or, say, the kitchen
Or stairwell past the kitchen
Or stairwell hallway.
And the compost pile?
Right by the basil garden?
C'est magnifique, sir!
Once you hit the ground
Final bursts began, nearly
Small wheelbarrow volumes.
We were on your side
While you lay splayed on yours, too
Unable to move.
Oh, sure, thrash about
Screech you will rise and kick ass
We ain't buying shit.
Eventually
Alex (Alex?) or Jenny figured
It was best to act
Lest a fetid pool
Consume you; a tawdry death
Jimi minus rock.
About eleven
We left you with some bread and
Vitamin Water.
Perhaps you lay still
Still, innocent jabbering
Coats the summer night.
But most likely, friend
You've regained youthful vigor
In time for Beirut.
-postscript: it was a tad difficult to toast the s'mores over the sound of dry, vicious wretching bereft of fluid or pleasure. Somehow, we managed. S'mores are awesome.
I recall your name was Art
Or Andy, something.
Anyway, you were
In the middle of handle
Number two already.
Funny thing, vodka
Clear liquid but its results
Visibly shock guests.
So, not too stunning
When your spew decorated
Paul's tile bathroom floor.
Or, say, the kitchen
Or stairwell past the kitchen
Or stairwell hallway.
And the compost pile?
Right by the basil garden?
C'est magnifique, sir!
Once you hit the ground
Final bursts began, nearly
Small wheelbarrow volumes.
We were on your side
While you lay splayed on yours, too
Unable to move.
Oh, sure, thrash about
Screech you will rise and kick ass
We ain't buying shit.
Eventually
Alex (Alex?) or Jenny figured
It was best to act
Lest a fetid pool
Consume you; a tawdry death
Jimi minus rock.
About eleven
We left you with some bread and
Vitamin Water.
Perhaps you lay still
Still, innocent jabbering
Coats the summer night.
But most likely, friend
You've regained youthful vigor
In time for Beirut.
-postscript: it was a tad difficult to toast the s'mores over the sound of dry, vicious wretching bereft of fluid or pleasure. Somehow, we managed. S'mores are awesome.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
One Man's Thoughts On Sarah Palin
Mike, you won't fucking believe it!
What the fuck, Doug, it's three in the morning. Don't you knock?
I haven't slept in days, listen man! I had the best fucking idea, the best man, the best, shit.
Shh...shh. I'll get up, stop hitting, oh, ow, stop, alright. Alright, the best idea you said, what is ---- are you bleeding? Do you have a nosebleed?
Yeah, hit the door of my room running into yours.
You're bleeding all over your forehead, Doug! And your forearms...is that glass? Jesus, man.
Long night. So! We need a car to get around the city, right?
I work two blocks away, Mike, remember? Sometimes it's like you don't even know your brother. And speaking of, what is it you are actually doing for money right now?
EXACTLY. A car. So I was thinking for a while and then fucking Sharise, man, Sharise?
What does she have to do with anything? I haven't talked to her in weeks.
Mike, fuck man! This isn't just about you. Anyway, Sharise. She blows that guy at the dealership, right?
Don't say that. She doesn't deserve that. Wait, you mean Keith? Keith Harvin? God.
....
God DAMMIT!
So, I talked to her and she talked to Keith...
YOU WHAT?
And his boss is on vacation, so I'm gonna be riding those Lexuses around for the next eight days. I only have to give Keith, like, 40 bucks, the RX, the GS...that reminds me, remember when were playing Soul Calibur that time?
On the Dreamcast? That was like, Christmas break freshman year...
Yeah and I beat you with Cervantes? You still owe me, like, 30 bucks, so, you know, whenever, anyway I'm gonna drive the Lexus to Kaitlyn's and maybe like Vermont?
Doug. I know you want a car. But this is a terrible, terrible idea. First, you should have told me you were going to talk to Sharise. You've met her, once?
Twice. Three, counting today.
Twice. Just go back to Best Buy, you were making like $17 an hour.
Nah.
Why the hell not?
...you don't...tuesday inventory with...no.
Fine. Fine. You j--fine. Then do something else and save up and lease a Chevy or something. This sounds good today to steal a Lexus off the lot---
Rent.
Yeah, rent, well, it's lease, first of all, and it's stealing. You think it's a good idea, but you're gonna get caught. It's stupid, is what it is. Stupid. Now let me go to bed.
I'll remember this, Mike! You've never believed in me, never trusted me. You want a ride to work, well fuck you, there's your ride, huh?
You shortsighted asshole. Leave me alone. It's 3:08 in the damn morning, and Doug, I work TWO BLOCKS AWAY!
And you're always gonna with that fucking attitude. I wonder if the dealership's open now. Man, a Lexus...
Call Mom for bail this time.
Psh. Keith has all of Monk on DVD. He's smart with that shit.
What the fuck, Doug, it's three in the morning. Don't you knock?
I haven't slept in days, listen man! I had the best fucking idea, the best man, the best, shit.
Shh...shh. I'll get up, stop hitting, oh, ow, stop, alright. Alright, the best idea you said, what is ---- are you bleeding? Do you have a nosebleed?
Yeah, hit the door of my room running into yours.
You're bleeding all over your forehead, Doug! And your forearms...is that glass? Jesus, man.
Long night. So! We need a car to get around the city, right?
I work two blocks away, Mike, remember? Sometimes it's like you don't even know your brother. And speaking of, what is it you are actually doing for money right now?
EXACTLY. A car. So I was thinking for a while and then fucking Sharise, man, Sharise?
What does she have to do with anything? I haven't talked to her in weeks.
Mike, fuck man! This isn't just about you. Anyway, Sharise. She blows that guy at the dealership, right?
Don't say that. She doesn't deserve that. Wait, you mean Keith? Keith Harvin? God.
....
God DAMMIT!
So, I talked to her and she talked to Keith...
YOU WHAT?
And his boss is on vacation, so I'm gonna be riding those Lexuses around for the next eight days. I only have to give Keith, like, 40 bucks, the RX, the GS...that reminds me, remember when were playing Soul Calibur that time?
On the Dreamcast? That was like, Christmas break freshman year...
Yeah and I beat you with Cervantes? You still owe me, like, 30 bucks, so, you know, whenever, anyway I'm gonna drive the Lexus to Kaitlyn's and maybe like Vermont?
Doug. I know you want a car. But this is a terrible, terrible idea. First, you should have told me you were going to talk to Sharise. You've met her, once?
Twice. Three, counting today.
Twice. Just go back to Best Buy, you were making like $17 an hour.
Nah.
Why the hell not?
...you don't...tuesday inventory with...no.
Fine. Fine. You j--fine. Then do something else and save up and lease a Chevy or something. This sounds good today to steal a Lexus off the lot---
Rent.
Yeah, rent, well, it's lease, first of all, and it's stealing. You think it's a good idea, but you're gonna get caught. It's stupid, is what it is. Stupid. Now let me go to bed.
I'll remember this, Mike! You've never believed in me, never trusted me. You want a ride to work, well fuck you, there's your ride, huh?
You shortsighted asshole. Leave me alone. It's 3:08 in the damn morning, and Doug, I work TWO BLOCKS AWAY!
And you're always gonna with that fucking attitude. I wonder if the dealership's open now. Man, a Lexus...
Call Mom for bail this time.
Psh. Keith has all of Monk on DVD. He's smart with that shit.
In Memoriam
The following blog names were taken.
http://seansullivan.blogspot.com
http://vanhammersly.blogspot.com
http://betterthangoogle.blogspot.com
http://blogspot.blogspot.com
http://knockknock.blogspot.com
http://whosthere.blogspot.com
http://theinterruptingcow.blogspot.com
http://theinterruptingcow.blogspot.com
http://moo.blogspot.com
http://thisonesavailable.blogspot.com
http://seansullivan.blogspot.com
http://vanhammersly.blogspot.com
http://betterthangoogle.blogspot.com
http://blogspot.blogspot.com
http://knockknock.blogspot.com
http://whosthere.blogspot.com
http://theinterruptingcow.blogspot.com
http://theinterruptingcow.blogspot.com
http://moo.blogspot.com
http://thisonesavailable.blogspot.com
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