Showing posts with label A.A. Milne. Show all posts
Showing posts with label A.A. Milne. Show all posts

Monday, December 17, 2018

The albertnet Christmas Guide - Part II


Introduction

This is Part II of my albertnet Christmas Guide. For Part I, click here. In this post I cover the best Christmas song, the best Christmas poem, and—on the recommendation of my kids—the worst of each as well.

If my use of the word “Christmas” (as opposed to “the holidays”) causes you to raise an eyebrow, please read the “semantic housekeeping” section of my last post.

The best Christmas song

Let’s face it, there’s gobs of Christmas music out there but it’s slim pickings finding anything even listenable, much less good. As described here, I cannot stand how malls immerse us in this godawful noise. But if you look hard enough, there are a couple of really good holiday songs. (Perhaps exactly two.)

I’ll start with the runner-up, that being “7 O’Clock News/Silent Night” by Simon & Garfunkel. For one thing, those guys can actually sing. Where other name-brand musicians try to breathe new life into stupid old songs like “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” by randomly warping their voices, to give the song an unstructured “live” sound, S&G sing this classic song beautifully and in harmony. Meanwhile, they fold in a grim radio announcer reading the evening news, which grows steadily in volume and bleakness. This combination has a bite that no other holiday music would dare attempt. Perhaps the only fault is that the irony is just a bit too thick … it’s fine line between timeless music and a parlor trick.

The winner in this category is “Realness of Space” by Bob Schneider. You may cry foul because this is not obviously a Christmas song. In fact, you might argue that this is obviously not a Christmas song. Well, subtlety is sometimes what makes great art. If you listen to this song a number of times you’ll realize that its underlying structure resembles, more than anything, a Christmas gift list. In the span of just over two minutes, Schneider utters the phrase “I want” no fewer than 21 times. And the real giveaway is when he sings, “I want a gold watch/ I want some Hickory Farms.” Let’s face it, nobody ever even thinks about Hickory Farms except around Christmastime.


To put this theory to the test, I asked my wife if her family ever got a Hickory Farms gift basket. She said, “Yeah, for Christmas some relative would always give us this giant cheese ball. It was kind of weird, just this big old ball of cheese encrusted with nuts. As a little kid I was kind of fascinated.”

My family wasn’t actually lucky enough to get anything from Hickory Farms, other than their Christmas gift catalog. I would leaf through that with a combination of desire and mild disgust. Of course I loved cheeses and peanut brittle, but the giant sausages—which appeared to be at least four inches in diameter—struck me as grotesque, almost obscene. (My mom was known, on burger night, to stretch a pound of ground turkey with oatmeal so it would feed our family of six, including four ravenous boys.)

What makes “Realness of Space” profound is the chorus: “I want the Jacksons from 1973/ I want the Osmonds, and I/ Want you to love me.” When looking to summon something that is gone forever, the very quintessence of the unobtainable, you couldn’t do much better than this (the Jackson 5 having split up that year, and The Osmonds not long after). It’s as though by gathering together these things he cannot have and juxtaposing them with what he really wants—love—he’s tormenting himself as masochistically as Edgar Allen Poe does in “The Raven.” And what could capture the dark, lonely side of Christmas better than that?

(Sure, you may continue to claim that “Realness of Space” has absolutely nothing to do with Christmas, and you know what? That’s totally fine. Go write your own blog.)

The best Christmas poem

Look, I get that nobody reads poetry, and that almost any reader would have no use for this category in a Christmas guide. It’s not like we’re all going to go write poems for our loved ones, or read published poems to them, or anything like that. If you think maybe I’ve gone off the rails, well, you’re probably right. Christmas does that to me, okay? But actually, one of the greatest tributes to Christmas ever created happens to be a poem.

I’m talking about “King John’s Christmas” by A.A. Milne. It concerns a king (or perhaps a man who deludes himself into thinking he is) who gets no respect—men passing him on the street would give him “a supercilious stare,/ Or passed with noses in the air.” King John has no friends, and “The cards upon his shelf/ Which wished him lots of Christmas cheer/ And fortune in the coming year/ Were never from his near or dear/ But only from himself.”

But John won’t give in to despondency, and gamely writes out a letter to Father Christmas: 
I want some crackers,
And I want some candy;
I think a box of chocolates
Would come in handy;
I don't mind oranges,
I do like nuts!
And I SHOULD like a pocket-knife
That really cuts.
And, oh! Father Christmas, if you love me at all,
Bring me a big, red india-rubber ball!
Lying awake during the wee hours of Christmas morning, John thinks he hears Father Christmas up on the roof, and gets so excited about getting anything at all (“He’ll bring one present, anyhow— / The first I’ve had for years”) that he rescinds all his requests, except for the last one. I won’t tell you what happens next … just go read the poem.

The worst Christmas song

It would be almost impossible to discover the very worst of the modern, name-brand covers of insipid traditional Christmas songs, because that would mean deliberately wading into the cesspool that is this genre. I wouldn’t wish that on any critic or blogger. Perhaps somebody working in a mall might inadvertently become an authority on the matter, but I’d hate to draw him or her out on the topic outside of working hours. Haven’t these people suffered enough?

Perhaps the best I can do is present the most disappointing, wince-inducing exhibit in the canon: “2000 Miles” by The Pretenders. I suppose it’s possible the band thought they were making real music, but my suspicion is that this is one of the bigger sellouts of all time—a cynical, shameless ploy to get their music into the malls. I mean, why else would a rock band make a Christmas song?

The song is monotonous, and Chrissie Hynde’s voice sounds a bit whiny, and the lyrics are abysmal. The observation is made that 2,000 miles is “very far.” Yeah, no shit! Then we’re regaled with a Thomas-Kindade-esque sentiment: “Our hearts were singing/ It felt like Christmas time.” Awwwww. It wraps up, “I hear people singing./ It must be Christmas time.” Who doesn’t know already when it’s Christmas time? Are we supposed to be moved by this deduction?

Even Hynde, who wrote the song, admits her lyrics suck. According to Wikipedia, she once declared, “Robbie McIntosh plays beautifully on ‘2000 Miles.’ Anything to avoid listening to my voice and my stupid words.”

But the worst part about this song is how damn catchy it is. If I hear it on the radio, or some chance phrase brings it to mind (which isn’t at all unlikely at this time of year), it gets stuck in my head and just won’t leave. When I think about The Pretenders—a band I normally like—stooping this low, it just depresses me.

And that’s not even the end of it: predictably enough, a number of bands have done covers of this imbecilic song. Wikipedia lists 11 of these, many for (gasp!) Christmas-themed albums.

I can understand why a mall might play inoffensive holiday-themed music in order to instill the kind of retail trance that separates people from their money, but why would rock music fans have an appetite for this kind of pablum?  Ugh.

The worst Christmas poem

Nobody should be bagging on poetry, right? Shouldn’t I be supporting it in all its forms? Of course as a wannabe writer I should be forgiving of anything committed to the printed page in pursuit of art. And so I’m myself surprised at having anything to describe in this unlikely category. And yet I do.

Somehow, in “researching” this post I stumbled upon a poetry website, PoemHunter.com, that does something—in the name of poetry—so utterly tasteless I cannot begin to fathom its origin. It presents poems (a strange mix of classics and amateur efforts) alongside not just a whole bunch of ads, but below what I guess it calls a video. It’s a little window with the words of the poem printed (like a Karaoke screen) and a computer voice doing an exceptionally poor job of reading the poem. The video, of course, is prefaced with a video ad. (The first poem video I viewed had an ad for fake wood siding for your home. I grabbed a snapshot and thought of pasting it below, but then that would technically be an ad on my blog which of course I would never do.)

Here is an example of this audiovisual monstrosity. Who the hell would want to hear that? It’s tempting to think this website is catering to the blind, but then why would there be all the visual ads? I guess the Poem Hunter creators figure there are people who are so lazy they’d rather hear a robot voice absolutely butcher a poem than do the reading for themselves. I truly hope nobody is so lonely during the holidays that he or she would listen to a Christmas poem on this site, just to get the simulacrum of another human voice.

I read the “About Us” section of the website, and found it decidedly non-erudite: “PoemHunter.Com aims to spread the effects of poems in the social and individual life of people, where a continuous change is undergoing with the Internet. PoemHunter.Com without a pause, continues its activities with the active participation of thousands of members.” My favorite part is the grammatically incorrect pause-inducing comma right after the phrase “without a pause.”

Yeah, I know that lousy website isn’t really Christmas-themed, per se. What can I say? I’m just not that devoted to this topic ... even with the big day only a week away.

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For a complete index of albertnet posts, click here.

Tuesday, February 16, 2016

Workout Megamix Liner Notes - Part IV: the Final Liner


NOTE:  This post is rated R for mild strong language and vulgar humor.

Update

Hear my entire Megamix (200+ songs) on Spotify - click here!

Introduction

This is the last installment of my Workout Megamix liner notes:  a list of, and commentary on, the music I play while riding indoors.  Click here, here, and here for installments I, II, and III respectively. (Update: I added two more over the years. The full list, with links, is at the bottom of this post.)


Let me be clear on something:  I do not condone riding outdoors with headphones.  I was once coming home from a ride and was passing this other biker when he started drifting to the left.  I yelled at him but he kept coming, until we were almost in the left gutter.  Dude almost took me out, and I couldn’t figure out what his problem was until I saw he was wearing headphones.  I strangled him with the cord and dumped his body in a well.  (Mentally.)  It’s one thing to lose yourself in music while riding indoors—in fact, that’s kind of the point—but on a public road, you need to be in the real world.

In other news, I realize my Megamix is pretty heavy on a relatively small number of singers/bands (in fact it comprises just 35). The thing is, there’s tons of good music out there but not all of it is good for riding the trainer.  Nothing takes the wind out of your sails like a low-key song.  I’ll bet a Coldplay song—even a good one—would lower my heart rate by 20 bpm.  And then there are fast-paced songs that work for a while but start to get old.  I’ve worked hard to pick only the best-suited tracks for this Megamix.

(No, I don’t actually think you’re going to go buy a bunch of CDs based on these recommendations.  But you could get some from the library to try out.  Remember libraries?  I’m a card-carrying member! And if you are more modern than that, click here for my Spotify playlist.)


Liner Notes – Dana’s Ultimate Superfly Workout Megamix Part IV – The Final Liner

Take It or Leave It – The Strokes

Takeover – Jay-Z
         This song, which started a feud between Jay-Z and Nas, features  Jay-Z bagging on Nas for not being more successful.  Nas has had five number one albums and has sold over 25 million records, which is pretty amazing until you consider Jay-Z has had ten number one albums, selling over 100 million.  That said, Nas is a way better rapper.  Sales aren’t everything; consider that Herman Melville sold only 3,200 copies of Moby Dick during his lifetime, while Danielle Steel has sold 650 million novels.
         All this aside, “Takeover” is a pretty good track.  In one extended motif, it makes fun of (or pays homage to?) the David Bowie song “Fame,” substituting “lame.”  Good beat, easy to dance to … I give it a 7.

Take, Take, Take – The White Stripes

Tango – Lady Sovereign
         Continuing the “hater” theme, this song is a very funny, if vicious, attack on … who?  what?  Someone orange, to be sure:  “And you always know where she’s been,/ And you always know when she’s had a pee,/ Cause the toilet seat ain’t clean/ Cause the toilet seat has an orange sheen!”   After years of being mystified by this song, I finally did some research.  Tango, in this context, refers to an orange-flavored soft drink (surely as artificial as a fake tan) hawked in the UK by a spokesman in an orange bodysuit.  The chorus of this song:  “Slap, bang, goes on your fake tan/ Bitch, you look like the Tango man.”
        Turns out Lady Sovereign is bagging on a one-time pop-star-wannabe named Jentina who, as near as I can figure, is the British equivalent of Vanilla Ice, but without the fifteen minutes of fame.  Whether or not Jentina deserved such vitriol, this is a great song, perfect for the trainer.
         (By the way, I know somebody who once tried on a spray-on tan.  It made her almost as orange as a carrot!  Yikes!)

Tarantula – Bob Schneider
         I saw this singer live, at a small San Francisco venue called The Independent, in the early aughts.  Some friends had come all the way from San Luis Obispo to see him, so my wife and I tagged along.  It was a great show.  This guy’s music is all over the place; at the concert he did a totally straight, non-ironic cover of “You Make Me Feel (Like a Natural Woman)” along with a rockabilly version of the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ “Give It Away.”  Not much of Bob Schneider’s repertoire is suitable for indoor workouts, but this song is.  You should check it out.

Tell Me Why – M.I.A.

That Was Just Your Life – Metallica
         Years ago my family was house-swapping with a family in Glasgow, and I found this Metallica album there called “Death Magnetic.”  The apartment belonged to a couple of professors and was full of great books, so I decided they must have good taste.  I wasn’t wrong:  this album totally rocks, and “That Was Just Your Life” is one of my favorite tracks on it.  If you’re getting sick of the dark, cold days and indoor workouts, the lyrics can see almost eerily apropos:  “Like a misery that keeps me focused though I’ve gone astray/ Like an endless nightmare I must awaken from each day.”

The Air Near My Fingers – The White Stripes

The Day I Tried To Live – Soundgarden

The Day That Never Comes – Metallica

The Girl Tried To Kill Me – Ice-T
         This is one of the rare rap songs that has a whole lot of electric guitar.  Very high-energy stuff, and also funny.  It’s about a guy who meets the girl of his dreams (“Hype, super-dope body and face, her mini-skirt tight/ Talkin’ ‘bout legs and lips, mindblowin’ hips/ Had to cross my legs just to look at her tits”).  Unfortunately, she turns out to be psychotic, which is bad enough news before her husband shows up.  A rap classic.

The God That Failed – Metallica

The Hardest Button to Button – The White Stripes

The Man Who Sold the World – Nirvana

The Monster – Eminem with Rihanna
         This is a great song.  I suppose I could go on and try to say something interesting and original about it, but I just glanced at the Wikipedia entry and it’s just vast.  There are 121 footnoted references on that page.  It’s tempting to say that somebody (i.e., the amateur Wikipedia writer) needs to get a life, but then that’s a dangerous proposition for a blogger.  Glass houses and all that.
         Suffice to say, this is the Eminem song that everybody likes, even those who hate Eminem.  Rihanna is another famous musician.  I think she’s famous because she sells a lot of records, but for all I know, she’s famous because she has a tortured “private” life or something.

The Real Slim Shady – Eminem

The Righteous & The Wicked – Red Hot Chili Peppers

The Unforgiven – Metallica

The Unforgiven III – Metallica
         This is another of my favorites.  (I love the original “Unforgiven” as well, though it’s slightly marred by the silliness of a line in the chorus, “I dub thee unforgiven.”)  Toward the end of this track there’s this minute-long guitar solo that will have yourself pedaling like a madman.
         Case in point:  I was pedaling along to this recently, on the rollers, and started going harder and harder.  That often happens with great music, but then it dawned on me that my increased effort wasn’t entirely voluntary.  The pedaling itself was getting harder, and my heart rate was climbing.  What’s more, the bike was getting harder and harder to control.  My back was starting to hurt.  Finally I realized the problem:  I had a damn flat tire!  Who gets a flat tire on the rollers, for cryin’ out loud?  Me, that’s who!

Through Being Cool – Devo

Time To Get Ill – Beastie Boys
         Back in 1990 I was working at a bike shop with a couple of illegals from London.  On a hunch I asked one of them if the Beastie Boys were big in England.  “Absolutely huge,” he said.  I can see why.  Though they may seem as American as apple pie, these guys are quite the Anglophiles.  This song is a case in point:  it’s a tribute to “Binker,” a poem by A.A. Milne published in 1927 in the book Now We Are Six.  Skeptical?  Compare these passages:
Binker’s brave as lions when we’re running in the park;
Binker’s brave as tigers when we’re lying in the dark;
Binker’s brave as elephants.  He never, never cries…
Except (like other people) when the soap gets in his eyes.
I’d have the pedal to the metal if I had a car
But I’m chiller with the Miller cold coolin’ at the bar
I can drink a quart of Monkey and still stand still
What’s the time? It’s time to get ill.
         It’s easy to tell which is the Milne poem and which is the rap song, but the similarities are striking.  Of course the rhyme scheme is identical, and the meter very nearly the same as well, but beyond that, there’s a thematic resemblance, almost as though MCA would like to see himself as a modern-day Binker.
         By the way, I made all that up, except the bit about my bike shop pal and these guys being huge in England.

Truckdrivin’ Neighbors Downstairs – Beck
         There’s some dialogue at the beginning of this song (“You lousy puke!”/ “Why don’t you call your mommy?!”) that will jar you to attention if you start to slouch during your workout.  It’s an odd song, somewhere between a ballad and a dirge, but faster, that catalogs the squalid details of some horrible neighbors; for example, “Whiskey-stained buck-toothed back woods creep/ Grizzly bear motherfucker never goes to sleep.”  Very funny, and dark … it should have you pedaling your ass off to get away from these people (though as usual, this being the trainer, you’re going nowhere fast).

Trunk – Kings of Leon
                                                                                                               
U Wanna Be Me – Nas
         One nice side effect of all this trainer music is that you have a wider variety of songs that might pop into your head during a road (or trail) ride.  Click here and search on “wanna” for an account of a total dork who tried to school me by blowing through a stop sign and keeping his momentum for an uphill.  This song became the anthem of his comeuppance.  “You suckers, you weak, you flunkies, you fake/ You couldn’t come close on my worst day.”

Ultraviolence – Lana Del Rey
         This song is the title track from the album “Ultraviolence,” which is apparently very popular.  I’d never heard of it, nor of Lana Del Ray, when I came across it in the “Lucky Day” section of the library.  It looked pretty cool, and I figured maybe the title was a reference to Clockwork Orange, so I checked it out.  Kind of a nifty sound, different, and there was a sticker the librarian put on the jewel case saying “TEEN,” which helps me pretend I’m not old and lame.  I liked this album enough to buy it, though most of the songs aren’t quite right for the trainer.  This one does the job.

Unorthadox Daughter – No Lay
         That “Unorthadox” isn’t a misspelling.  It’s really spelled that way.  I don’t know much about this song or about No Lay, other than to say I got this from a grime compilation album called “Run the Road.”  (Wikipedia is no help here; the entry is so sloppy it spells Marshall Mathers “Mashall Mathers.”  Stylistic misspelling is one thing; typos are quite another.)  This song is good and fast and I have no idea what No Lay is saying.  But that’s good … you’ll have plenty of time to puzzle this out as you flail away at the pedals, week after week, until spring.

Untutored Youth – The Hives
         I love this song.  It’s very hard to make out the lyrics but I’m pretty sure part of it goes, “And when people tell me what is OK and what is not, it should not be unexpected when I extend my middle right hand digit and say ‘Hey, would you like lemon or lime with that piece of advice, mister?’”  The Hives are great for the trainer because the songs are really short, so you can commit to absolutely hammering through them the whole way.  A Hive Interval, you might say.

Use Somebody – Kings of Leon

W.T.P. – Eminem
         A fair bit of this MegaMix is somewhat dark, so it’s nice to have some lighthearted, funny songs on there, and this is one of them.  Throughout his oeuvre Eminem has turned his humble trailer-trash roots into an asset and this song is perhaps the pinnacle:  “So let’s have us a little bash/ And if anyone asks, it ain’t no one but us trash.”  And talk about a cheap date:  “Now honey, don’t let them pricks trip, we should make a quick dip/ And go do some doughnuts in the hospital parking lot.”
         When I was in high school, a friend had this old Volvo wagon with a bad muffler, so it sounded like a muscle car, and every time we drove anywhere, he’d swing by the high school to do doughnuts in the parking lot.  It was a dirt lot, which is pretty amazing because this was Boulder, Colorado which has since been so gentrified the roads are mostly paved with teak or mahogany.

What I Got – Sublime
         I’d never heard of this band until a friend said I should check them out.  So I bought their eponymous album, tried it out, and immediately recognized several songs I’d heard a lot on the local alternative rock station (whose deejays can’t be bothered to give the name of a song or artist—we’re just supposed to know, duh!).  Three of Sublime’s songs made the cut for this Megamix.
         I’m actually not that curious about musicians, so I never looked these guys up on Wikipedia until just now.  Dang, it’s actually a very sad story which I’ll spare you from … you can always go look it up if you want.  The fact is, their subject matter is often pretty dark and trashy, but in a kind of jovial way, so it never used to bum me out.  Now I’m not sure I’ll ever hear their music the same way again.

What’s Wrong With Them – Lil Wayne
         This is another one of those rap songs where the chorus is sung by a woman with a great voice.  In this case the chanteuse is somebody called Nicki Minaj.  I won’t necessarily check out her music; sometimes these guest appearances are better than the contributing artist’s own work.  For example, I liked Amy Winehouse’s contribution to the Nas song “Cherry Wine,” so I checked out one of her albums.  Alas, I couldn’t get into it … I just didn’t like the style (though she had a great voice).  Similarly, Dido is great on Eminem’s song “Stan,” but her own songs wouldn’t work for the trainer. 
         So many pop songs featuring women have such cloying lyrics.  I asked my teenager who the hot female pop singer is and looked her up:  “I go on too many dates [chuckle]/ But I can’t make them stay … My ex-man brought his new girlfriend/ She’s like “Oh, my god!” but I’m just gonna shake.”  You know what?  I really don’t care about the romantic foibles of some drippy fool-for-love.
         Whatever Nicki Minaj typically sings about, I like her belting out, “This is times up/ Put your signs up/ They done picked my dude/ Out the lineup/ Baby what the fuck’s wrong with them/ What the fuck’s wrong with them?”  Okay, maybe this lament is about her dude (i.e., Lil Wayne), but at least it’s not just the typical unrequited love … this seems to be a commentary on dubious incarceration and the questionable practice of having eyewitnesses look at police lineups.  The way this critique is delivered, it’s got a nice kick to it.

When I Come Around – Green Day

Where Did You Sleep Last Night – Nirvana

Where Is My Mind? – The Pixies
         I love this song.  You may be tickled to learn how it came to be written.  The lead singer, Black Francis, is credited with this explanation:  “That came from me snorkeling in the Caribbean and having this very small fish trying to chase me. I don’t know why; I don’t know too much about fish behavior.” (Hey, Black has the same approach to research that I do!)
         Incidentally, there’s a great M.I.A. song called “20 Dollar” that borrows heavily from this one.

Wherever I May Roam – Metallica

Whip It – Devo

Wrong Way – Sublime

XR2 – M.I.A.

You Ain’t Got Nuthin – Lil Wayne
         The fact is, Lil Wayne’s lyrics, though good, aren’t nearly as clever as, say, Eminem’s.  But somehow Lil Wayne makes his words sound so great.  “Uhh, I get money like a muhfucker/ Shades darker than a bitch, but I can see/ I got everything, you got nothing/ But you ain’t got nothing on me.”  On the page the words fall pretty flat … but when you’re hammering on the indoor bike, heart rate at like 160, all that adrenaline and everything, these simple words seem so profound!

Young Lust – Pink Floyd

Zero Chance – Soundgarden 

More reading

Here are links to the rest of my series of Workout Megamix liner notes:
The complete Megamix list (updated December 2022)

For your convenience, here's the complete list of tracks on my Workout Megamix:

‘Till I Collapse - Eminem
16 Shots -  Stefflon Don
20 Dollar - M.I.A.
212 - Azelia Banks
8 Miles & Runnin’ - Freeway/Jay-Z
911 Is a Joke - Public Enemy
A Punchup at a Wedding - Radiohead
A Thousand Days Before - Soundgarden
A.K.A. I-D-I-O-T - The Hives
Adrenaline Rush - Obie Trice
Airbag - Radiohead
Alive - Sia
Ass Like That - Eminem
Average Man - Obie Trice
Bad Girls - M.I.A.
Bad Guy - Eminem
Be Somebody - Kings of Leon
Beautiful - Eminem
Beautiful Pain - Eminem w/ Sia
Best Rapper Alive - Lil Wayne
Black Hole Sun - Soundgarden
Black Saturday - Soundgarden
Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos - Public Enemy
Blow Up the Outside World - Soundgarden
Bones of Birds - Soundgarden
Borders - M.I.A.
Born Free - M.I.A.
Brain Stew - Green Day
Broke as Fuck -  YBN Cordae
Bucky Done Gun - M.I.A.
Burden in My Hand - Soundgarden
Cash Money Millionaires - Lil Wayne
Celebrity Skin - Doja Cat
Cha Ching (Cheq 1-2 Remix) - Lady Sovereign
Charmer - Kings of Leon
Cheers - Obie Trice
Closer - Kings of Leon
Come As You Are - Nirvana
Comfortably Numb - Pink Floyd
Cool Cats - Obie Trice
Cops Shot the Kid - Nas
Creep - Radiohead
Cry Now - Obie Trice
Deja Vu - Eminem
Desperation - Eminem
Discombobulated - Eminem
Don’t Shoot (I’m a Man) - Devo
Down In It - Nine Inch Nails
Easy to Crash - Cake
Enter Sandman - Metallica
Everlong - Foo Fighters
Eyelid’s Mouth - Soundgarden
Fell In Love With a Girl - The White Stripes
Fell On Black Days - Soundgarden
Fight the Power - Public Enemy
Follow My Life - Obie Trice
Free Bird - Lynyrd Skynyrd
Fresh - Devo
Galang - M.I.A.
Get Free - Lana Del Rey
Girls LGBNAF - Ice-T
Give It Away - Red Hot Chili Peppers
Gnat - Eminem
Godzilla - Eminem
Got Hungry - Obie Trice
Hands On You - Eminem/Obie Trice
Happiness is a Warm Gun - The Breeders
Heart In a Cage - The Strokes
Heart Shaped Box - Nirvana
Heartbeat - Ice-T
Hustlers - Nas
Hypnotize - The White Stripes
I Am Not a Human Being - Lil Wayne
I Could Have Lied - Red Hot Chili Peppers
I Go To Work - Kool Moe Dee
I Will - Eminem
Icky Thump - The White Stripes
If I Had - Eminem
I’m Back - Eminem
I’m Your Pusher - Ice-T
It Takes a Muscle - M.I.A.
Jack My Dick - Obie Trice
Jesus Christ Pose - Soundgarden
Just Lose It - Eminem
Killing Lies - The Strokes
Knives Out - Radiohead
Know It Ain’t Right - M.I.A.
Last Nite - The Strokes
Legacy - Eminem
Like Suicide - Soundgarden
Little Acorns - The White Stripes
Loco-Motive - Nas
Lollipop - Lil Wayne
Longview - Green Day
Look In My Eyes - Obie Trice
Loot My Body - Man Man
Lose Yourself - Eminem
Love Me - 50 Cent
Love Me or Hate Me - Lady Sovereign
Love the Way You Lie - Eminem
Matangi - M.I.A.
Mockingbird - Eminem
Money Over Bullsh*t - Nas
Mother - Pink Floyd
Move Your Body - Sia
Mr. Brightside - The Killers
Mr. Carter - Lil Wayne
Mrs. Officer - Bobby Valentino/Lil Wayne
My Dad’s Gone Crazy - Eminem
My England - Lady Sovereign
My Mom - Eminem
My Name Is - Eminem
My Wave - Soundgarden
No Love - Lil Wayne/Eminem
No Regrets - Eminem
Non-State Actor - Soundgarden
Not Going Back - Nas
Not the Same Anymore - The Strokes
Nothing Else Matters - Metallica
Offend In Every Way - The White Stripes
On the Other Side - The Strokes
One Mic - Nas
One Time 4 Your Mind - Nas
Outshined - Soundgarden
Overfloater - Soundgarden
Paint It Black - The Rolling Stones
Paper Planes - M.I.A.
Personal - Ice-T
Pony - Ginuwine
Pump Your Fist - Kool Moe Dee
R.A.K.I.M. - Rakim
Rabbit Run - Eminem
Radio Suckers - Ice-T
Rap God - Eminem
Rewind - Nas
Rhinosaur - Soundgarden
Richard - Obie Trice
Roughnecks - Obie Trice
Safe From Harm - Massive Attack
Santeria - Sublime
Searching With My Good Eye Closed - Soundgarden
Seduction - Eminem
Seven Nation Army - The White Stripes
Sexodus - M.I.A.
Shoot Me Down -Lil Wayne
Shooter - Lil Wayne
Sick Of You - Cake
Sing For the Moment - Eminem
Smack That - Eminem
Smells Like Teen Spirit - Nirvana
Smile Like You Mean It - The Killers
So Human - Lady Sovereign
Soul of a Man - Beck
Spoonman - Soundgarden
Stan - Eminem
Stop - Jane’s Addiction
Suck My Kiss - Red Hot Chili Peppers
Sunshowers - M.I.A.
Superunknown - Soundgarden
Survival - Eminem
Sympathy For the Devil - The Rolling Stones
Take It or Leave It - The Strokes
Take, Take, Take - The White Stripes
Takeover - Jay-Z
Tango - Lady Sovereign
Tarantula - Bob Schneider
Tell Me Why - M.I.A.
That Was Just Your Life - Metallica
The Adults Are Talking - The Strokes
The Air Near My Fingers - The White Stripes
The Day I Tried To Live - Soundgarden
The Day That Never Comes - Metallica
The Girl Tried To Kill Me - Ice-T
The God That Failed - Metallica
The Hardest Button to Button - The White Stripes
The Man Who Sold the World - Nirvana
The Monster - Eminem with Rihanna
The Real Slim Shady - Eminem
The Righteous & The Wicked - Red Hot Chili Peppers
The Unforgiven - Metallica
The Unforgiven III - Metallica
Thrift Shop - Macklemore
Through Being Cool - Devo
Time To Get Ill - Beastie Boys
Truckdrivin’ Neighbors Downstairs - Beck
Trunk - Kings of Leon
U Wanna Be Me - Nas
Ultraviolence - Lana Del Rey
Unorthadox Daughter - No Lay
Untutored Youth - The Hives
Use Somebody - Kings of Leon
W.T.P. - Eminem
What I Got - Sublime
What’s Up Danger - Black Caviar & Blackway
What’s Wrong With Them - Lil Wayne
When I Come Around – Green Day
Where Did You Sleep Last Night - Nirvana
Where Is My Mind? - The Pixies
Wherever I May Roam - Metallica
Whip It - Devo
Why Are Sundays So Depressing - The Strokes
Worse Dreams - Soundgarden
Wrong Way - Sublime
XR2 - M.I.A.
Yah Yah - Eminem
You Ain’t Got Nuthin - Lil Wayne
Young Lust - Pink Floyd
Zero Chance - Soundgarden

--~--~--~--~--~--~--~---~--
For a complete index of albertnet posts, click 
here.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

London - Part Two

oooooo
Introduction

Don’t worry, I don’t kid myself that you care as much about my London vacation as I do, and I know I don’t have the luxury of a captive slide-show audience, and that you can alt-tab to any of a number of different PC applications the second your interest begins to flag. So I’ve tried to keep this post relatively brief, interesting, funny, macabre, and pictorial throughout. I also refrained from using the phrase “across the pond.” A word about the photos: I tried out medium size, which I'm not that happy with; you can click on these to zoom in for a better view. [Note: this post is rated PG-13 for described violence and adult themes.]

Jet lag

Jet lag hit us hard. The first few nights saw Erin and me waking up, bolt upright, variously between 1:00 a.m. and 4:00 a.m. This led to some atrocious sleeping in when we should have been touring London. We have come to dread bedtime, and Alexa, having come across a Magic 8-Ball in the house we’re staying in, has made a tradition of asking it, every night, “Will we sleep well tonight?” So far it’s been pretty accurate (e.g., “Don’t count on it,” “Better not tell you now”).

For me, the worst jet lag came on my third night, when I got so desperate I started counting sheep. Just counting, of course, wouldn’t be counting sheep, so I try to picture them jumping over a fence, but this can get complicated. The first few sheep were cartoon sheep. Then they morphed into these stuffed sheep toys my dad bought one year to give to certain women back in the mid-‘80s. They were almost completely round sheep, with four perfectly cylindrical legs all clustered together. Then my mind swapped these out for pretty realistic sheep, which was fine until it hit me—could these be lambs, or goats? In other words, am I doing this wrong? What’s the difference between a sheep, a lamb, and a goat, anyway? A few bearded billy goats jumped over the fence and increased my doubt. Then I got back to wooly, lamb-esque sheep jumping over, but my under-stimulated mind contrived all these crazy camera angles, and the super-slow-mo effects from “The Matrix.” Meanwhile I absolutely couldn’t keep a straight count. Despite two hours of this I never broke a thousand, even though I’m pretty sure I skipped a few hundred here and there.

Ealing

The house we’re staying in is in Ealing, which is a suburb of London. (One person here said that all of the UK is a suburb of London.) But it’s not just any suburb; it’s the Queen of the Suburbs:

We haven’t yet seen any of the sites on this postcard. The official website for Ealing notes, of the Hoover Building, that an architecture critic called it “perhaps the most offensive of the modernistic atrocities along this road of typical bypass factories.” (I love this English self-deprecating impulse.) Anyway, Ealing is a fine place, and located very strategically, about halfway between the Heathrow airport and the center of London.

Mass transit

The London subway is the oldest in the world, and with around 300 stations and 250 miles of track, it’s one of the largest. We paid a bunch of money for week-long all-u-can-eat Oyster cards, and we’ve been taking it everywhere. It’s got a good website, and (my early struggles described in my previous post notwithstanding) I’d say it’s pretty easy to use. The longest we’ve had to wait for a train has been about five minutes, and usually it’s been shorter than that. (My only complaint is the cost, which is about $55 a week, compared to $45 a month for the San Francisco equivalent. Part of this is our anemic dollar, which has dropped almost 20% against the pound since March.)

Of course, the underground, being pretty utilitarian, doesn’t thrill the kids like the double-decker bus does. The bus is all Alexa talked about the first day, and we promised her we’d get home on one after some grocery shopping. When the bus that arrived wasn’t double-decker, poor Alexa wept. So the next day we fixed that, by taking the underground to Kensington Gardens and then riding double-decker buses all around the area. Here, the girls about to take their first trip:


Note how the woman in the movie billboard on that bus is juxtaposed with what appears to be a severed head. As you shall see, beheading will be a theme throughout our London visit.

We boarded the bus, swiped our Oyster cards (all the mass transit in London uses this contactless card, something Bart is just now beta-testing), and headed upstairs. I’m sure tempted to write “found my way upstairs and had a smoke,” like in the Beatles song, but I don’t smoke, and I don’t think they allow it anymore on the buses anyway. Here are the girls enjoying their front-row seats (and pretending the yellow bar is a steering wheel).


















Here we are in front of Kensington Palace (which we didn’t tour because it’d have been like fifty bucks):















Tower of London

The next day we toured the Tower of London, a famous fortress, palace, and prison built during the 11th and 12th centuries. We arrived just in time for a guided tour by a guy in a Beefeater costume. We were forbidden to photograph the tour guide, who was an ornery, funny former military man (twenty years in the service being one of the requirements for being a Tower tour guide). His lecture focused on the executions that went on in the Tower and on the adjacent Tower Hill. I hope my kids weren’t paying attention, because here is my best stab at rendering his most interesting tale:

ooooo“How many of you have heard of James Scott? Nobody? Good. You will, after what I’m about to tell you. He led the unsuccessful Monmouth Rebellion, attempting to dethrone James II, and was sentenced to be publically beheaded. Now, in London in those days, a public beheading was considered entertainment. All the schools were closed and families would pack a picnic and head out to Tower Hill to watch. It was a grand day out for all but one person.
ooooo“The executioner wasn’t actually paid anything for doing this job. His pay normally came from the person being executed, kind of like a tip paid in advance. It was thought that this payment ensured that death would be swift and merciful. But James Scott, being a nobleman, refused to pay anything. Whether or not this was the reason, the execution did not go well. Normally, one blow of the axe took the head clean off and that was it—it was stuck on a spear and paraded around and the thing was done. But in this case, the first blow came down on Scott’s shoulder blade. He turned his head and said to executioner, ‘If you miss again, I cannot guarantee I will remain still.’
ooooo“Unfortunately for him, the next blow landed on his head. The one after that hit the neck, but only went in about two inches. All told it took about half a dozen blows to finish him off. And for some reason, instead of putting his head on a spear they sewed it back onto his body and paraded that around. Probably all your children will have nightmares now. By the way, I’m available for babysitting.”

I won’t go into the vivid description of the beheading of Anne Boleyn, Henry VIII’s second wife, because I don’t want to spoil the surprise should you decide to rent the DVD.

Not all of the tour focused on executions, of course. For example, our guide described how Sir Walter Raleigh spent thirteen years imprisoned at the Tower, and was tortured daily (“by having his wife in there with him, and all she wanted to talk about was feelings”). And there was this tidbit about ravens: for superstitious reasons, Charles II issued a royal decree that the Tower must always have ravens. Specifically, it must have six at all times. Today, perhaps as a response to 9/11, it has nine. We saw a couple of them.

We went through a breathtakingly long line to see the crown jewels. There were loads of scepters and crowns and whatnot, encrusted with so many jewels they looked fake. The jewels must have been much more impressive before little toy-vending machines and Cracker Jack prizes came along.

Then we went to the “Henry VIII: Dressed to Kill” exhibit. From this picture, you can get an idea of one of the more surprising features of his armor:
They didn’t allow photography in the exhibit, which is a real shame, because the, uh, athletic cup feature of the armor was extraordinary. The armor itself was very interesting and sophisticated, but couldn’t help taking a back seat to the, uh, generous endowment provided for Henry VIII’s junk. Was he known to get, er, stimulated during battle?
oooo
Finally I realized what was going on. This was a guy who must have had a pretty big ego—after all, he created the Church of England, breaking all ties with Catholicism, just so he could marry Anne Boleyn—and was certainly ruthless, having had two of his wives beheaded. If I were building armor for him, the last thing I’d want to do is appear to underestimate the size of his, uh, packet. And once the armor was ready, I’m sure Henry VIII wasn’t about to say, “You made the cup too big. I don’t need that much room.” Anyhow, the best I can do for a photo was this one, taken in the gift shop, of some lesser man’s armor. Note that the, uh, pouch in this armor isn’t nearly the size of what Henry VIII’s armor had. Note also how this other tourist seems to be admiring it.

The other noteworthy thing about this exhibit was the last suit of armor built for Henry VIII, when he was in his forties and looking to wear it in a tournament of some kind. All the dimensions were given for each suit, so we know that his waist had gone from 36 inches to 48. Not that we needed the numbers: the suit was astonishing in its girth. Jack Black would have been swimming in it. It was really sad, actually, looking at the giant belly section, immortalized in steel. That poor king. And what’s worse, he was so dissipated and slovenly by this point that he never even wore the suit. Ah, "th’ expense of spirit in a waste of shame” (to quote a decidedly more slender 16th-century Englishman).

It’s hard to guess how much attention my kids were paying to the Tower tour. I can tell that Lindsay did grasp something of Henry VIII’s importance, because last night she said to me, “Fa-fa, it’s time to ask the Henry the Eighth Ball if we’ll sleep well tonight!”

Tower environs

After leaving the Tower, we had lunch and then walked around the area. (A note about the food in London: this will get its own blog post in the next week or two.) First we checked out the Tower Bridge. This is a much bigger deal than the London Bridge of the children’s song. (They’re very close together, both crossing the Thames.) The Tower bridge has a drawbridge for the taller ships. Photos:








From there we found some groovy church with a rock sculpture. The way the kids flocked to that rock, you’d think they’d been starved of play, which I guess they actually had:

In any other place this church would probably be a pretty big deal, and maybe it is, but there are so many groovy churches in the London area I can’t keep them all straight. From here it was a short trip to the replica Globe theater, built on the original site where Shakespeare’s plays were performed. Tours cost money and we didn’t go in. We proceeded to the Tate Modern to check out some modern art. Actually, we went there because it was free and we badly needed a restroom. We did check out some of the exhibits, but the really cool-sounding ones cost money. Photography is not allowed in the Tate so I have nothing for you to look at except its Orwellian exterior. If you grasp that Alexa’s evident enthusiasm is ironic, then you will doubtless agree this would make a good album cover:

Buckingham Palace

The next day we set out to watch the Changing of the Guards at Buckingham Palace. We’re not huge fans of the royalty, nor of quasi-military procedure; rather, this was more of a literary pilgrimage, based on our love of the A.A. Milne poem:


oooooThey’re changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
oooooChristopher Robin went down with Alice.
oooooAlice is marrying one of the guard.
ooooo“A soldier's life is terrible hard,”
oooooSays Alice.

(If you have kids and haven’t read this poem in When We Were Very Young, you need to go get that book, and its companion Now We Are Six, before I report you to the authorities.)

We waited in line for over an hour at the gates of Buckingham Palace, among vast throngs of other tourists. Had they opened the gates at any point, it probably would have been like the concert stampede scene in “Pink Floyd – The Wall.” But at no point did they open the gates. At the appointed time, a lot of soldiers in funny hats arrived, many of them playing instruments, others carrying machine guns with bayonets, others comprising a marching band. They paraded around out front and then entered through a side gate.

The actual changing of the guard was very complicated, with no play-by-play from anybody, so we had no idea what was going on. It lasted for a really long time, and it was hard for Erin and me to see anything. Our kids had a great view from our shoulders; Alexa got this shot:

About the only other thing of note is that the band played the song “Dancing Queen” by ABBA. At that point, exhausted, we left. After lunch, we headed over to Westminster Abbey:



It cost fifty bucks to get in, so we didn’t. (Note that the coolest museum in the U.S., the Smithsonian, is free. Just sayin’.)

Across the street was the House of Parliament. The tall tower is where, according to Erin, all the paper copies of the laws are kept. Of course these could all fit on a single DVD, but that’s not the point. Anyhow, this is a huge complex of buildings that was really hard to get into a single photo. Between the first two, you get the idea. More about the third photo later.






















Here’s a close-up of Big Ben, which you doubtless recognized in the previous two photos:





















The London Eye

From here we walked across the Westminster Bridge and headed down to the London Eye (originally called the Millennium Wheel), which is basically the world’s largest Ferris wheel, if you could call it that. According to the official website it was built in 2000 “as a metaphor for the end of the 20th century.” (Based on how much it cost to ride—about $3/minute for our family—I’d say there was another motive as well. By my rough calculations, I’d guess it brings in about $500,000 per day.) Until about a week ago I’d never heard of this thing. I have to say, it’s pretty dang cool. It took seven years to build. It weighs 2,100 tons. It takes you about 450 feet up. It takes half an hour per revolution. And what’s especially impressive is that passengers, 25 to a pod, get on and off without the wheel having to stop.

Before our “flight,” as they call it, we watched a “4-D” movie promoting it. (Why they promote the thing after you’ve already bought tickets is beyond me.) The 4-D technology involves a special, enhanced version of 3-D glasses:

What’s special about the glasses is, obviously, that they look so good. But they’re not actually involved in the 4-D aspect of the technology. Here’s what 4-D is all about: you watch a movie that has several 3-D elements, like a seagull flying in your face or bubbles swarming at you out of nowhere, and the bubbles are—get this—real! So what you think is a super-hi-tech illusion is actually, well, what you’re really seeing. (I cheated by removing my glasses at a key moment.) For some reason you also get splashed with water during the movie. Maybe this is a sanitary way of conveying the idea of seagulls defecating on you.

Anyway, to focus solely on the 4-D bit is to fail to appreciate the real cinematic integrity of the film. It pays patent homage to “The Red Balloon,” using a non-narrated, dialog-free story of a little girl going on the London Eye with her father. What we see is from her perspective (if she had a helicopter for parts of it), and at the end she gives her dad a big hug: a stark contrast to her reserved, almost Germanic coldness at the beginning. The message is not hard for an experienced, insightful moviegoer to interpret: if you take your daughter on the London Eye she will love you a little more. Does it work? Yes, I think so. My children do seem to love me more, now that they’ve been on the London Eye and I’ve answered their questions about the movie.

But with no further ado, here are the photos. One London Eye photo you’ve already seen: the third House of Parliament photo above.













If this were truly a full-service blog, I’d include all the photos I took, annotated to show the great many points of interest. But I pay for server space on this blog, and besides, I’m tired, and you’re tired, so let’s just wrap this up. Stay tuned for my next installment, Oxford & the Cotswolds, coming soon to albertnet.