IDEAS, NOTIONS & BOATS MADE OF OCEAN

FILM: THE SUITCASE

2010-03-24T18:37:00.000-07:00

My niece and nephew came to town last week and while they were here we made a short movie around downtown Toronto... It's a chase movie called The Suitcase.

This is the third or fourth one we've made, and the first following the instant classic Hide & Seek.

Hope you enjoy...

MUSIC: JENNY LEWIS' ACID TONGUE

2010-03-08T17:51:00.000-08:00

Personally, I thought that Rilo Kiley -Jenny Lewis' former band- were pretty mediocre; and Rabbit Fur Coat, the album she recorded with The Watson Twins, which drove a lot of my friends gaga, left me feeling a bit cold. So when she released Acid Tongue in September of 2008 I didn't even blink. I'd kind of written Jenny Lewis off.

And then, over a year after it was released, I listened to it. And holy shit.

Somewhere in there, between plopping out not-particularly-great music in collaborations, Lewis became a genius.

I figure that the majority of female artists out there these days fall into a few categories:

There are the pretty and pretty vapid pseudo poets, best personified by Chantel Kreviazuk and (sorry Becca) Jewel.

There are the teen pop tarts, full of love and angst and singing about absolutely nothing at all, rightfully more known for what's written about them than for what they write, if they even write anything themselves. (Lindsey? Britney? Jessica?)

There are the distillations of what was once good, but devoid of the edge a sparkle of the originals... Avril Lavigne is meant to harness the fuck you attitude of Joan Jett but fails; Kelly Osbourne is a watered-down Blondie, or maybe Courtney Love.

And then there are the holy-fuck-we're so-weird-we-must-be-artists, like the bewildering Lady Gaga, La Roux or Peaches; none of which have a clue what art looks like. (Self-promotion is not art.) This is the new generation of Madonna wanna-bes (Madonna-bes?), but each lacking in her basic sense of melody or what makes a strong pop hook.

This was not always so. Once upon a time there were female recording artists; once upon a time female recording artists were the rule and not the exception once upon a time there was Emmylou Harris, Patsy Cline, Loretta Lynn, June Carter, Joan Baez and Dolly Parton! And there were a million jazz singers: Sarah Vaughan, Etta James, Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald, Etta James, Carmen McRae, and on and on.

These were artists; these were master interpreters and creators.

And with Acid Tongue, released a year and a half ago, you can add to that list Jenny Lewis, with a voice that recalls Loretta Lynn especially, and not her own early self in any way. Acid Tongue is a rock & roll album with balls, rare enough to find from someone with balls, and insanely rare from someone without them. It's a tough record, but one that refuses to shy away from true beauty, in the way that, say, Courtney Love does. (And alternately, it doesn't flinch at adding a little darkness to the beauty, like the way opener Black Sands starts to turn a bit towards the end, or how the very pretty Bad Man's World opines "I've got a bullet left, but I can’t decide which scorpion I’m going to shoot; will it be me, or will it be you?")That said, when she needs unadorned beauty she can nail that too, as she does on Trying My Best to Love You.

Godspeed is one of the most incredible things I've heard in years, with a wonderful melody, and an almost hopeful bounce underlying the melancholy.

The chugging See Fernando is brilliant and Carpetbaggers (with a shockingly good, shockingly ferocious guest turn from the almighty Elvis Costello) is straight up aggressive in the best possible way.

Jack Killed Mom is a murder ballad / story-song that would make Johnny Cash or Bruce Springsteen smile with glee.

The whole thing has a kind of 1960's Laurel Canyon singer-songwriter, community-made feel to it, where every single note played by every single player was struck, plucked or sung with pride and a desire to create the very best art possible.

There's not a bad song in the lot, and although I might be two years late, I can't now recommend it any more strongly. I feel like your life is probably worse for not having this album on your iPod.

DESIGN: SHARKY TEA INFUSER

2010-03-05T05:42:00.000-08:00

I don't drink tea (I'm adverse to hot liquids) but if I had this tea infuser, designed by Pablo Matteoda, I might.

MUSIC: THE DRIVE-BY TRUCKERS

2010-03-02T08:14:00.000-08:00

One of my very most favoritist bands around, The Drive-By Truckers, have announced that their new album -The Big To-Do- is going to be released on March 16, 2010.

These guys are incredible; if you like roots music this is the band for you. Their last full-length album, Brighter Than Creation's Dark, was made up of nineteen songs with nary a dud in the bunch. From the beautiful and tragic opener, Two Daughters & A Beautiful Wife -about a friend of the band whose entire family was murdered in a random home invasion- through to the album closer, Monument Valley, which imagines iconic director John Ford laying some knowledge on a protege, they strike not a single wrong note lyrically, musically or tonally. The album is a true work of art, the kind that rarely gets made in this era of 99 cent-per-song digital downloads.

From Two Daughters & A Beautiful Wife: "Memories replay before him; all the tiny moments of his life: Laying round in bed on a Saturday morning. Two daughters and a wife; two daughters and a beautiful wife."

And from Self-Destructive Zones, written from the point-of-view of a hair metal band at the beginning of the nineties, being overcome by the grunge movement: "It was 1990, give or take I don't remember, when the news of revolution hit the air; the girls hadn't even started taking down our posters when the boys started cutting off they're hair. The radio stations all decided angst was finally old enough it ought to have a proper home. Dead fat or rich nobody’s left to bitch about the goings' on in self destructive zones."

The Drive-By Truckers are a remarkable group of musicians and songwriters. They're a career band, making music to last; they might not storm the charts or get hounded by paparazzi, but in a perfect world they'd have their television network, broadcasting their music twenty-four/seven.

DESIGN: STAIRS WITH FREAKING SLIDES ATTACHED!

2010-03-01T20:55:00.000-08:00

Becca and I have talked about the possibility of maybe one day possibly buying a house... If we do, I'm going to insist on having one of these:

Holy crap, that's awesome. Could you imagine? The people who built this house obviously love their children very, very much, and so do these parents:

They are stairs. With slides attached to them. I can't even begin to express how cool this idea is. Why don't all stairs have slides attached to them? In a perfect world...

2010-02-28T05:41:00.000-08:00

There's been a long history in music of the powers that be searching for a white artist who sounds black. Labels have always thought that if they could just harness the power of black music (which, for some reason, means authenticity)but put a white face on it, they would hold the Holy Grail; a palatable, critic-proof, television-friendly artist that suburban moms and dads can't complain about. That's what Elvis was about, and Jerry Lee Lewis; people were initially taste-tested with Rick Astley's songs but weren't shown his picture, and the resounding reaction was that he was a talented black singer; The New Kids on the Block were put together with the specific intention of creating a white version of New Edition and The Jacksons, and in the same vein came along The Backstreet Boys and N*SYNC, not mention how the execs must have been salivating when they heard the R&B inflected, Michael Jackson influenced Justin Timberlake on his own; Remy Shand was the first white artist signed to Motown, because they thought he was going to be the white Stevie Wonder; and labels have been searching high and low for viable white rappers, from House of Pain through to Eminem.

In the last, say, ten years things have changed a bit; black artists rule the charts, and for artists -both white and black- authenticity is almost a dirty word; as I write this, the highest charting white artist on the Billboard Hot 100 is Kesha, whose name I refuse to spell with a dollar sign because it's stupid. Umm, Taylor Swift? James Blunt? Nickelback was the most successful band of the nineties, in terms of record sales? And what the hell's happened to U2? (To be fair, black artists seem as adverse to authenticity as white; The Black-Eyed Peas went from a socially conscious hip hop act to an idiot-baiting bubblegum pop group that doesn't so much record songs as they do jingles; rapper Ludacris has recorded with the latest white suburban teenage flash in the pan, Justin Bieber; why the fuck does anybody but fourteen year old girls listen to Rihanna???)

In the 1960's protest songs ruled the charts; led by the great Pete Seeger, Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell, Joan Baez, Phil Ochs, John Lennon railed against the government and stood as the soundtrack to the civil rights movement, becoming huge stars in the process. Music meant something at the time, it set out to accomplish something, and listeners were inspired by it. Today, music is a trifle, a diversion; people put on their headphones to tune out and get away from thinking. They blast computer-made, heartless beats into their ears, and revel in computer manipulated and corrected voices; guitars and rums, which at the birth of rock and roll were gloriously ragged and human, are now processed so completely that they rarely sound like guitars and drums even when they are real.

DESIGN: LETTERHEAD

2010-02-28T04:49:00.000-08:00

Great design can be found in the simplest places; I present to you, courtesy of LEADERHEADY, well, letterheads...

The great artist, Roy Lichtenstein, circa 1971. (I HEART ROY LICHTENSTEIN.)

Marvel Comics, c. 1982.

My childhood favorites, Laurel & Hardy, c. date unknown.

A Special News Bulletin from the Office of Johnny Cash, c. 1960.

One of the most brilliant entertainers ever, P.T. Barnum, c. 1891.

And the bizarre:

The Church of Scientology, c. 1976.

Go HERE to see more.

OTHER: STUMBLE!

2010-02-27T19:23:00.000-08:00

I stumbled upon this:

From REDDIT.

ART: SHAUNA RICHARDSON

2010-02-26T05:27:00.000-08:00

U.K.-based artist Shauna Richardson creates life-size, ultra-realistic animals using the medium of crochet. (She refers to her art as Crochetdermy.)

The Lioness.

A Jack-Rabbit.

A detail of the Brown Bear.

A mounted Fox.

The Monkey.

Richardson was chosen as one of a handful of artists to create works of art to be displayed around London during the 2012 Summer Olympics; her contribution will consist of three thirty-foot tall hand-crocheted lions, representing the East Highlands, home of Richard the Lionheart.

To see more of her work, and shots of her creations in their "natural habitats," visit her website HERE.

MUSIC: WILLIAM ELLIOT WHITMORE

2010-02-21T07:43:00.000-08:00

HERE is a clip of Whitmore performing Hell Or High Water

DESIGN: MARK, BY DAMJAN STANKOVIć

2010-02-20T05:28:00.000-08:00

I'm not one for internet abbreviations -webreviations?- but I'll make an exception this one time:

OMG I WTB THIS SUPER-AWESOME XC10 THING!!! IT'S EFFING G9!

It's a light for your bedside table...

That's also a bookmark for your bedtime reading!

Here's how it works:

When you put your book across it shuts off automatically!!! Unbelievable! Who thinks of such a thing?? (The answer is Damjan Stanković, a designer based out of Belgrade, Serbia, and you can see more of his work HERE.)

It's only in the prototype phase, but when it's released I will have one, I <3>

Here are a few other options for your bedside table:

The Nod Light by IC Designs...

My Pet Lamp by OFFI...

DESIGN: THE MAST HUMIDIFIER, BY SHIN OKADA

2010-02-10T07:15:00.000-08:00

I've become kind of obsessed with beautiful designs for mundane things (see the parking garage below)and I'm not sure anything more mundane could be more beautiful than this humidifier, designed by Shin Okada from Japan. It's constructed from Hinoki Cypress -which, according to Wikipedia, is also used to build palaces, temples, traditional Noh theatres, and ping pong racquets- and uses absolutely no electricity: The wood absorbs the water from the base and diffuses it into the air, tinging it with a slight lemony scent.

Unfortunately, I don't think we have need for a new humidifier... Although, I believe that this one retails for under a hundred dollars...

DESIGN: EUREKA TOWER CARPARK

2010-02-01T13:16:00.000-08:00

This is an underground parking garage in Melbourne, Australia... It's designed to look like absolutely nothing, until you're in the right place, looking at the design from the right angle, at which time all is revealed.

It feels weird to refer to a parking garage as brilliant, but c'mon... This is brilliant.

I would drive if parking garages were this fun.

This is incredible design; it turns the mundane into something artful.

OTHER: FACEBOOK FAILS

2010-01-24T13:20:00.000-08:00

I Stumbled on these today... They're dumb, but they're pretty funny.

I love a good Fail.

I found them on ODDEE, a pretty fun time-wasting site.

And my personal favorite:
Happy Sunday.

ART?

2010-01-21T20:59:00.000-08:00

I was looking at some art on Etsy, and found this when I searched for "Encaustic Paintings," and sorted them high-priced to low. I'm not entirely sure what to make of it...

I'm 90% sure this is a joke, like those terrible singers who pop up on American Idol. I know art is subjective and bladdy-blah, but I think that we can all agree that this is terrible. If you look closely you'll see that there's some hair glued to the piece near the top, and I think there are pipe cleaners in the bottom left hand corner, sticking out like tentacles. Ugly, ugly tentacles.

Here's the description that accompanies the painting:

"The painting is a collaborative piece of mind and matter, emphasizing the power of direction in the focus of surrealism. Bright glitter specs to muted beeswax melted into many recycled trinkets depicted the chakras, reality, violence & rebirth. The art is completely eco-designed, painted on salvages (sic) wood, local bought beeswax, and a year's worth collected junk that became part of the art."

I'm not sure if this is some kind of Kaufman-esque prank, and I'm less sure if it would be worse for this to be real, or to accept that my faith in art is so beaten up that I see something like this and believe that it might be real.

If only that write-up -that fucked up, garbled, say-nothing write-up- didn't sound so much like so many actual, real-life Artist's Statements...

There's a lack of respect for the artist these days, and most of that comes from so-called artistes, who think that throwing paint at canvasses -not in that Jackson Pollock kind of way- makes you real. Art is hard. Art takes skill, talent and practice. There is bad art, contrary to popular belief. I can judge someone else's art, and so can you; and you should, if for no other reason than art is hard.

And by the by: This painting is listed at $24,000. It's got to be a joke.

DESIGN: LASER CUT FABRIC

2010-01-20T07:34:00.000-08:00

From a company called Little Factory, out of Hong Kong... Laser-cut scarves and placemats, and coasters, and they also have lots of pretty great printed items, too.

Here are my favorite typography-based designs:

Laser-cut Uppercase scarf.

Laser-cut Numbered Placemats.

I love the way they've used just a detail
of the Serif font for this bag.

Click HERE to see more.

ART: BROCK DAVIS

2010-01-19T20:01:00.000-08:00

I Stumbled upon this art project by designer Brock Davis, who works out of Minneapolis. It's called Make Something Cool Every Day, and essentially involved Davis making something... What's the word? Cool? Pretty frequently, actually. In fact, every day of 2009. The works are consistently interesting and sometimes even brilliant. (There are very few duds.) But it's not just the quality of the execution that's fascinating; the sheer breadth of styles is mind-blowing. There are pencil sketches, conceptual pieces, photography, and even videos. There are drawings in human hair and expressionistic paintings. Here are a few of my favorites, but it would be worth your while to check out the remainder of the project, which can be found HERE.

Day One... January 1st. "Build."

January 3rd: "Rules-blank paper+thread+tape+exacto."

January 24th: "Shattered Coffee Cup."

February 20th: "Decowpitation."

March 13th: "That Was True."

June 5th: "Change of Heart."

June 25th: "56 Likes."

July 15th: "Elephat."

August 21st: "Foot."

September 21st: "Stairwell."

October 18th: "Nice Day."

October 21st: "I Only Play Sad Songs."

That's twelve of them there... Three hundred, and fifty... Some odd works left to see. So go see them.

2010-01-15T12:44:00.001-08:00

http://www.homeqn.com/entry/amazing-tree-trunk-garden-house/

ART: eL gAto nEgro

2010-01-14T09:21:00.000-08:00

Holy crap, take a look at these amazing illustrations posted over at eL gAto nEgro... I absolutely adore Akira Kurosawa, and these do the man and his films very proud.

I once went to a screening of Throne of Blood after having gone a day or two without sleeping, and -try as I might- could not stay awake for the film. I would drift in and out of consciousness, weaving together some form of plot from the bits I was seeing. Suffice it to say, when I finally sat and watched the movie well-rested it was a drastically different experience.

Yojimbo! The great master's finest work? Possibly. Then again, there's also Seven Samurai... And High and Low. Also, Throne of Blood. Or maybe it's Rashomon. (I tend to think that whichever of his movies I'm watching is the best.)

(Of course, the images belong to the artist.)

ART: BRIAN HUNTER'S OLD MATTRESSES

2010-01-14T09:06:00.000-08:00

I was playing around with Stumble at work today (thanks, Katelyn, he says sarcastically) and I Stumbled upon the page of an artist named Brian Hunter, who works out of Montreal, I believe. He basically reconstitutes old matresses as canvases, turning them into something really pretty incredible and beautiful. (He also has a series of sleeping bags, which you can and should check out HERE.)

All images belong to the artist.

DESIGN: LASER-CUT WOOD

2010-01-13T10:40:00.000-08:00

We got an amazing laser-cut alphabet for the baby, and then quickly put it up in our living room instead, because it's super cool.

It's from a designer named DALE NIGEL GOBLE, whose website is well worth checking out.

Alternatively, BOOKHOU makes -among many, many other things- a very cool laser-cut alphabet.

Lastly, I stumbled upon this piece on Etsy... It's not an alphabet, but a great laser-cut wood piece that would certainly appeal to any typography geek. It's by PEPPERSPROUTS, out of Brooklyn.

ART: MAGDA TRZASKI

2010-01-12T20:17:00.000-08:00

Becca and I occasionally take a trip down to C1 ARTSPACE on Ossington in Toronto and one time when we did we saw a shadowbox by a Toronto-based artist named Magda Trzaski. They're pretty incredible; macabre, sad, funny, hopeful, lovely... We hope to own one in the near future.

Here are a couple of examples...

"Dream World"

"Smug With Knowledge"

Not sure of the title of this one...

To see more, visit her BLOG.

DESIGN: THE LO-RES CHAIR, BY OOOMS

2010-01-12T11:31:00.000-08:00

This amazing chair out of the Netherlands is made from steel and polyurethane, and features a cut out of the famous Eames lounger when viewed from the side. There have baan a lot of re-wrokings (homages?) to the Eames designs over the years, but I think this might be my favorite...

Visit the OOOMS website to see more.

OTHER PEOPLE'S PETS: OBERON

2008-09-13T18:13:00.001-07:00

Obes belongs to Becca, but his heart belongs to me. I cat-sat him for a couple of months and I love him. He’s the sweetest, gentlest, cutest cat I’ve ever known, and he likes me better than he likes anybody else. He’s big, and he’ll shit in the bathtub if you give him half a chance. True story. It’s like a game with him, called “Leave That Door Open, I Dare You.”

Before we get to the questionnaire, here is a movie in which Obes is the star:

Now:

FULL NAME: Oberon Buttlejig, technically. Obie for short. Or Obes for syllabically shorter. Oberonicus for long.

AGE: No one knows, for sure, though I’d guess he’s over ten years old.

BREED: Maine Coon, a/k/a Mancoon, which I'm amazed to learn is in fact the second most common household purebreed in North America, behind only the Persian. Go figure. (Eff you, Siamese! Bite me, Russian Blue!)

FAVORITE TOY: The bathtub. (See above.)

FAVORITE GAME TO PLAY: I’m Gonna Shit In Your Bathtub. (See above.)

FAVORITE PLACE TO SLEEP: On a desk. Any desk.

TRIVIA: When he was a young cat someone put Obes in a box and left him by the side of a road. He had no food or water, and was stuck in the box for a number of days at least, living amongst his own waste. When he was rescued he’d developed a serious bum infection, which required the removal of much of his intestinal tract. The doctor who performed the operation did so improperly, and now his bum appears red and raw-looking, and is clearly sensitive. (To clarify: Obes's bum is red and raw-looking, not the doctor's, unfortunately.)

TRIVIA, PART TWO: Oberon is one of two cats in the world that my mom is not afraid of; in fact, she loves him to bits. And while he is very fond of her as well -especially her feet, which he likes with abandon- he doesn't like her as much as he likes me, whom he loves above all else.

Here's the notorious cat-hater caught red-handed:

How's that for evidence?

LIGHTS! CAMERA! ACTION!

2008-09-01T16:32:00.000-07:00

My niece Abby and my nephew Cory came to visit a couple of weeks ago, and while they were here they -and I- played in the park across the street from my house A LOT. We played on the swings and the jungle gym (now known as "the play structure," apparently... When did that happen?) and in the empty hockey rink... The first day they were here Cory got stuck on part of the fence, when it swung out over nothing while he was climbing it. We made a bunch of movies, so their parents would be able to see what we all did together. This is the movie we made to introduce the park... It's in the style of Alfred Hitchcock's Rope.

Enjoy!

For those who care -and I know you are legion- the music used, in order of appearance:

“Brooklyn is Burning,” by Head Automatica
“Bad Seamstress Blues,” by Cinderella (the air guitar solo)
“Everybody’s Gonna Be Happy,” by The Kinks
“Phoney Maroney,” by Apollo Sunshine
“Pump it Up,” by Elvis Costello & The Attractions
“I’m A Love You Anyway,” by Danny Michel
“Mr. Pitiful,” by Matt Costa
“A.I.R.” by Anthrax
“Get Ur Faith On,” by Missy Elliott & George Michael

The tinkle at the scene changes is from "Hush," by Jellyfish

OLYMPIC FEVER!!!

2008-08-16T09:35:00.000-07:00

To be honest, I don't really watch the summer Olympics. I find it pretty boring comparatively... For example, I just found myself watching -actually, I find myself watching... It's still on...- the women's singles badminton gold medal match (at this point it's just a matter of which Chinese player gets gold and which gets silver) and one player (Zhang) returned the birdie, which landed just inside the tape, and the commentator described the shot thusly:

"That birdie, hit with incredible force, landed inside the tape like a butterfly with sore feet!"

The art of metaphor is truly lost, like the virginity of... A particularly... Umm... Busy prostitute... With sore feet.

Ugh.

There have been some pretty ridiculous controversies at this year's Olympic games, which is amazing considering they're being hosted by a communist government bent quite literally on world domination (America's national debt is owed to whom???) and not above committing unimaginable atrocities against it's opposition... I'd have to say that choosing some cute little girl to lip synch to the voice of some homely little girl is probably one of the more honourable moves perpetrated by the Chinese government in recent times. At least they didn't "disappear" the actual singer and her entire family to cover their tracks. Nice restraint, China!

To me, the most amazing and one of the lesser reported controversies has nothing to do with China, but instead is the advertising campaign used by the Spanish basketball teams to promote themselves in their homeland. The ads feature the men's and women's basketball teams gathered around a Chinese dragon painted upon centre court... And what they're doing, with "love" say the players, is using their fingers to pull back the skin at the corners of their eyes so they look Asian. They are making chinky eyes. With "love."

Here's the men's basketball team's ad:

And a detail, so you can see all their racist love close-up:

And here's a detail from the women's team's ad:

Awesome.

There's been a history of racism at sporting events in Spain, with Japanese, Chinese and Korean teams complaining about being subjected to racist taunts from Spanish players, coaches and fans at world events for some time.

And to make the case for a racist Spain -and also to show their support for their basketball heroes- the 2008 Spanish Federation Cup Tennis Team recently posed for this little picture:

Those are the members of the tennis team, with the circles around their racist but loving heads...

Go Spain! I can't wait to see them play the Confederates in the finals!

Oh, and that thing I said about the women's badminton match being boring? Zhang came back from nine points down, after she was completely counted out and won the gold, all in a matter of about twelve minutes...

THE SELF-PERPETUATING MYTH

2008-08-01T13:52:00.000-07:00

This is going to e a bit scattered, but stay with me...

Summerworks in Toronto has taken the step of posting a couple of ads -one male- and one female-based- for their upcoming theatre festival. The ads -particularly the female, which features a cluster of “hot” female playwrights* thanking Claudia Dey for paving the way for “hot” female playwrights, and then engaging in a pillow fight, all scantily clad- have drawn the ire of many, primarily women, who find the whole thing offensive, a missed arrow aimed at the heart of 21st Century pseudo-feminism. There’s no question, frankly, that it is a missed arrow. It’s a poor attempt at satire. But whatever. The YouTube generation’s lack of understanding of feminism -or true struggle of any kind, for that matter- is an unworthy adversary.

On the Summerworks discussion page Hannah Moskovich responds to people calling the female ad humiliating by saying, essentially, that she’d have known if she was being humiliated, and she recounts some examples from her days as a server when she was outright humiliated by piggish male customers... A couple of years ago I saw an interview with Mickey Rooney in which he was asked as a final question if he’d do anything differently, and he responded without hesitation “I’d do Breakfast at Tiffany’s differently. Well, I wouldn’t do it at all.” (As a refresher: In Breakfast at Tiffany’s Mickey Rooney donned bad teeth, a blunt black wig and a kimono and ran around yelling at Audrey Hepburn in a “Chinese” accent.) “At the time I thought it was hysterically funny. I didn’t realize I was humiliating myself.” Humiliation is very often in the eye of the beholder, as one other poster on that page points out. And just because your intention is satire, that doesn’t mean the result is satirical. Sometimes it’s just humiliation. And, though I agree the examples of humiliation she provides were no doubt hurtful, soul crushing and immediate, it’s also true that humiliation sometimes takes time, and sometimes the humiliated is entirely oblivious.

The men’s ad is not provocative whatsoever. It’s not humiliating. There’s nothing offensive about it. There’s nothing challenging about it. It’s just bad. Assuming you know Michael Healey, there might be some initial humor in seeing him act foolish, but that goes away pretty quickly, or so I’d assume. (I don’t know him, save by reputation.) If you don’t know him what it is is just a bad YouTube skit.

One comment on the YouTube page for one for the ads says something along the lines of “Leave them alone, at least it’s better than most of what you see on YouTube.” Talk about damning with faint praise. But also, A) Aim higher; these are some of Canada’s top actors and writers in these ads and they should behave as such. And B) No, it’s not. It’s not better than most of what you see on YouTube. It’s equally as bad as most of what you see on YouTube.

There is a third ad, featuring just Summerworks Artistic Director Michael Rubenfeld singing a terrible song about Summerworks, apparently as a spoof of those terrible and terribly narcissistic songs that teens post on YouTube because they can... It’s whatever, an interesting if obvious idea, except Who the fuck is Michael Rubenfeld? I’ve met him a couple of times, I think, but seriously: The joke only works if the people watching it know you’re not actually one of those narcissistic kids. Most people don’t know that about Michael Rubenfeld. Most people don’t know anything about Michael Rubenfeld whatsoever, including his name, what he looks like, and his position with Summerworks. The ad is for his friends. The ad is for the people in the other two ads, and whoever else is in Michael Rubenfeld’s MyFive. The ad, as it turns out, is for the same people for whom those kids he’s parodying make their videos: Pals. I can’t tell if this is the most post-modern post-modernist piece of art ever created, or just the height of narcissism, though I suspect it’s not the former, unfortunately.

If you’re the Artistic Director of, well, anything, shouldn’t your advertising campaign be directed at those other than the already initiated?

Personally, I think this is the most offensive ad of the bunch.

There is a bolder statement to be made about these; one I’ve danced around a bit, but I guess I have to spell out, which is this:

THESE ADS ARE REPRESENTATIVE OF EVERYTHING THAT’S WRONG WITH THE TORONTO THEATRE SCENE.

It’s incestuous. It’s exclusionary. It’s a club. Artists in the scene don’t make theatre for audiences, they make it for other artists. Almost without exception the people who jumped to the defense of these ridiculous ads are people who know the “actors.” (“I know Claudia Dey, and I think this is hilarious.” “Hannah isn’t really like that at all, and that’s why it’s funny!”)

With all due respect, who cares what you think? You’re going to go to the shows already, supposedly, so who cares? If these ads had been made and sent through e-mail from person to person, then ha ha ha, nice work; but they weren’t. They were posted on the Summerworks website. If those involved weren’t so blind, they’d see the outcry about their crap for what it is: People who care about theatre, who care about Summerworks wanting those involved to pay it the respect it deserves. It’s not just a couple of whatever, fun videos, so what?The ads are representing something that people are passionate about, and they’re representing it exceptionally badly.

And what’s worse is they’re doing it in a way that basically says Theatre is about the artist, not the audience and not the art.

There’s no question that theatre is in trouble. Audiences are weak, and without audiences theatre is nothing; it can’t live.***

It’s attitudes like the one behind this campaign that keep audiences away.

Why are musicals -disdained by all serious theatre artists, the scourge of the theatre world- kicking our ass? Because they’re inclusive. They want audiences. They want to impress people, make people happy, make people sad. David Mirvish doesn’t care about impressing his friends, he wants to impress people he doesn’t know. The people who pony up and allow him to do what he does are people he doesn’t know. They’re buying the tickets.

People want to be included. The slogan for this campaign cold have been “Theatre artists: We’re smarter than you. We’re more clever than you. We’re better than you.”
________________________________

* Seriously, though: Where’s Kate Hewlett? Are you kidding me?
** The saddest part of the whole thing for me has to be when, after listening to so much praise for original hotness being heaped on Dey, the older Linda Griffiths says “Wait, what about me?” It’s just... A sad moment.
*** It’s sad to go to a show in Toronto. Afterwards everyone piles out of the theatre and gathers at the stage door to say hi to the writer / the director / actor, or more often than not some collection of people involved in the production, because the audience knows them all. The people in this show are the same people that came to support them at their show. And that’s fine, there needs to be support within the community, but if the support from the community is what’s keeping you afloat, if your audience is all actors and the writers and directors of things you’ve seen, than what’s the point?

TELL ME ABOUT GOD

2008-07-30T16:48:00.000-07:00

I found this book in a great used bookstore on Spadina: Tell Me About God, written by Mary Alice Jones and illustrated by Pelagie Doane, circa 1959. (Originally published in 1943.)

From the inside flap: "Inside this unique and beautiful book are answered the most profoundly important questions children can ask. "Who is God?" "Why Can't I see God?" "How does God care for me?" "Does God Love everybody?" With these first wondering questions the little child is approaching the great fundamental truths of religion. His whole spiritual development may depend upon how wisely he is answered. Mary Alice Jones... has prepared this book especially to help parents with their important task of bringing their children to know God. Entirely non-denominational, TELL ME ABOUT GOD reflects the best thinking of present-day leaders in the field of religious education." Once I get set up with a scanner I'll post some more of the illustrations, but for now here's my favorite. It goes with the chapter titled "God Sent His Son." I'll reprint the whole chapter here, and dedicate it to Shira Leuchter, who will hopefully learn something...

GOD SENT HIS SON

BOBBY showed his mother a picture of Jesus. His teacher at church had given it to him. "Tell me about Jesus," he asked. "God loves us so much, Bobby, that he sent his son, Jesus, to tell us about it." "How did Jesus tell us?" "He did more than just tell us. He showed us. He helped those who were sick. He played with the little children and told them stories.He was kind to those who were sad. He said, 'See, I love you. That is why I want to help you. God loves you, too. And God wants to help you, too.'" "Did the people listen to him?" "Many of them did. And they understood God's love. Jesus showed them what it meant. They said, 'God is like Jesus. He loves us.' " "Were the people glad?" "Those who listened to Jesus were very glad, Bobby. They felt happy. They said, 'We feel all made over. We are not sad or afraid any more. We know God loves us, whatever happens to us.' " "What else did Jesus tell the people?" "He told them God's plan for them. He told them how God wanted them to live together. He said 'Love one another. Help one another. Share with one another.' " "What did the people do?" "Some of them said, 'Jesus is telling us God's plan for us. It is a good plan. It will make people happy. We will live the way he says.' " "What did the other people do?" "The other people did not listen to Jesus. They did not want to know God's plan for them. They wanted to have their own way. And they made many people unhappy." "If I had been there I would have listened," Bobby said. "Would you, Bobby? I am glad. What Jesus said is still God's plan for us. We can listen to him now."

THE FEET ARE THE BEST PART

2008-07-11T15:10:00.000-07:00

Here are some pictures of an installation called TELEPHONIC SHEEP at The Frankfurt Museum of Communications, c. 2004. The artist is Jean-Luc Cornec.

Supposedly these guys were all over the web a couple of years ago, but I missed them then. Better late than never.

The sheep are constructed entirely out of recycled telephone parts, their wool being, of course, the telephone cords.

I'm actually amazed at how life-like they appear.

The feet are my favorite part.

Thanks to Jenny Kuri for bringing these little guys to my attention.

BURTON CUMMINGS, PEDOPHILE*

2008-07-02T05:40:00.000-07:00

"Hi! I'm Burton Cummings! Just an average, ordinary dude! Do you like my suit?"

"I've never actually tried before, but I feel confident I could hypnotize you using just my hands and my voice... No, you're right, I have not been sleeping well lately. I'm feeling stressed."

"I've got this very" (Sweat, sweat.) "powerful urge building within me... I can't" (Sweat, sweat.) "help it. I've got to" (Sweat.) "get to a" (Sweat.) "playground right now. Heh, heh... Sloppy! Sloppy!" (Sweat, sweat.)

(No caption needed.)

"Burton Cummings. Prisoner 7694381. Ready for rehabilitation... Can I get a work detail in the nursery? Is that possible? No? This is going to be a long thirty years."

*Burton Cummings is in no way an actual pedophile, so far as I know. He just seems like one based on the evidence presented above.

BANKSY HEARTS BLEK LA RAT

2008-06-30T15:48:00.000-07:00

Banksy is a London, England-based artist. He makes public art. His work is almost always political, or at the very least it comments on societal norms, and it more often than not achieves genuine wit.

Banksy is famous. New works of his are regularly covered by London newspapers. There is wide speculation as to his identity. If a Banksy appears on the side of a building it usually stays there. In some cases the owners of the buildings have repainted around the art... A far cry from how standard graffiti is treated, wouldn't you say?

Here is a selection of my favorite of Banksy's works...

Banksy's style is derivative of a guy named Blek la Rat, a French artist -and the inventor of stencil graffiti- who visited New York in the early 1980's and loved the traditional graf he saw there. He decided to use stencils so as to not just copy what he'd seen while in the States. Blek la Rat's stuff was also often political or satirical, and sometimes he even appeared in his work himself.

You can see Blek la Rat's work HERE.

THE ALIENS, THEY THINK THE FARMING IS PURTY

2008-06-09T22:03:00.001-07:00

It looks like some kind of fancy -and awesome- geometric painting, but it's not... In fact, it's a photo of Kansas farmland taken from the Advanced Spaceborne Thermal Emission and Reflection Radiometer (ASTER). It's a real photo.

The photo was taken on June 24th of 2001, but was classified until 2005. The green circles -which measure as much as 1.6 km in diameter- are corn, leafy in June, and the paler green is sorghum; the bright gold color is wheat. The circular shape of the field is owed to a method of irrigation that draws water from a well at the centre of each field, using long pipes mounted on wheels that rotate on a pivot, dropping water onto the crops instead of spraying it over them with sprinklers, and necessitating round fields.

Agriculture is hot.

Click HERE to see more pics from ASTER.

LET THERE BE (STYLISHLY APPOINTED) LIGHT!

2008-05-30T23:19:00.000-07:00

Shopping on Queen a couple of weekends ago Shell and I found this antique store (I think Art Deco...) with a downright bizarre collection of lamps. Here are some of my favorites...

Clearly this lady is a very sexy ballerina.

If she was on my bedside table I'd never get any sleep.

Q. Are We Not Men?

A. We are Equus.

A horsey! Wearing a Devo "Whip It" hat!

And my favorite... The Mushroom Fairy.

It's the knife that makes it art. Also the hat. And the boots. And check out those calves!

Is it just me, or does this fairy look vaguely like Renee Zellweger?

SNEAKY SUBMARINE

2008-05-30T21:32:00.000-07:00

So, though there's little evidence to suggest I can maintain one blog consistently for any length of time, I've started a second...

It's called SNEAKY SUBMARINE, and is dedicated solely and wholly to music.

I'm a music geek of sorts, and even though the header says and will continue to say that BOATS MADE OF OCEAN is about, at least in part, music I wanted someplace that was all about music.

Anyway, I hope you take a second to check it out. I've written a not terribly great little blurb about a terribly great HARMONY TROWBRIDGE show I went to recently, and a review of the new ELVIS COSTELLO album, MOMOFUKU... Which is brilliant, by the way.

OTHER PEOPLE'S PETS: LADY

2008-05-20T05:29:00.000-07:00

Lady belongs to Shelley's co-worker, Linnea. It didn't come out in the questionnaire, but in the interest of full disclosure I feel there's something you should know: I have it on good authority that this little black pug has a touch of... Well, the racist in her. Apparently she barks incessantly whenever black people come near. Can you say "self-loathing"?

FULL NAME: Lady Cain.

AGE: 3 years old on May 15th.

BREED: Pug.

FAVORITE TOY: Too many to mention: Animal, from the Muppets; Telus Rabbit; "Pinky," a pink toy I bought her... She bites the noses off of the toys (wonder why?) and then eats the stuffing. We go through lots of toys, but I don't have the heart to throw them out.

FAVORITE GAME TO PLAY: "Can't catch me!" Bum in the air and head on the floor, glaring up at me. I swear she runs faster than a Greyhound.

FAVORITE PLACE TO SLEEP: Under the covers cuddling me.

TRIVIA: When she was a puppy and friends or family would go to leave our house, she would bark-scream because she didn't want them to go... It actually sounded torturous. Probably the reason the
neighbors still don't really talk too much to us!

ALL FOR ART & ART FOR ALL: BATHURST & QUEEN, PART THREE

2008-05-17T07:19:00.001-07:00

Okay, last post on this, I promise...

This is the giant piece that I'd mentioned before...

Impressive.

"Toons":

ALL FOR ART & ART FOR ALL: BATHURST & QUEEN, PART TWO

2008-05-15T17:54:00.000-07:00

These are the remaining photos I have from my time lurking in the alleyways at Bathurst and Queen... As I said in my previous post, while I was there the artists who did the majority of these pieces were working on something new; someday I'll go back and get pics of their new work.

To be honest, there's one more piece from the alleys that I have a photo of, but I'm having trouble up-loading it, as it is HUGE. (The actual piece is about fifty feet long and fifteen feet high, and my photo is made up of about twelve photos combined into one... I'll figure it out and post it as soon as I can... It really is the best of the bunch.)

I forgot to mention last time: You can see larger versions of the photos by clicking on them.

I like this one, though. "The hunchback":

"Space Elvis":

"Mess":

OTHER PEOPLE'S PETS: SOPHIE

2008-05-13T13:19:00.001-07:00

My friend Shelley filled in the questionnaire for her roomate's adorable kitty, Sophie, for this, the inaugural edition of Other People's Pets! Look at that face!

FULL NAME: Sophie Shepperdley.

NICKNAMES: "The Sophinator."

AGE: 8 months.

BREED: Blue British Shorthair.

FAVORITE TOYS: Red ball; Yellow thing; Right now the dangly doorknob thing is the hot item.

FAVORITE GAME TO PLAY: The standard cat games, including "You Pet Me / I Bite You"; "Just Try Making Your Bed With Me In It"; "I Know You Don't Want Me Up Here But I'm Going Up and Knocking Things Off Anyway" and "So What If Those Are Your Feet I'm Totally Attacking Them."

FAVORITE PLACE TO SLEEP: Above the kitchen cupboards.

TRIVIA: "One day, Sophie was making whining and moaning sounds, which is odd because her breed is not really that vocal. She had been playing with her reindeer toy on my roomate's rocking chair and managed to get her head stuck between the bars. We had to slide her body upward to where the space between the bars was a bit larger, and then twist her head sideways and pull it out. Sadly, no photographic evidence of this exists. Then there was the time I was brushing my teeth and she decided to jump into the sink just as I spat toothpaste. Do you know what it's like to scrub toothpaste off a cat?"

ALL FOR ART & ART FOR ALL: BATHURST & QUEEN

2008-05-12T07:54:00.000-07:00

I love graffiti. I've loved it ever since I bought Twisted Sister's album Come Out and Play, with the band standing in front of giant wall, spray-painted with the band's logo.

I've never done it, because I don't know the techniques and the tricks and I don't know anyone who can teach me. These kinds of things aren't readily available on the internet; I think graf artists are pretty secretive* about how they do what they do, not wanting the form to become more prevalent than it is already. I'm going to make it an aim to produce one piece of graffiti this summer. I'm going to work on a design and find a spot and then I'll go out one night and just do it, and hopefully not fuck up someone's wall.

Anyway, there are some spots in Toronto with some pretty incredible work, and on Sunday I went out with my camera and took some shots of a lot of the graffiti around Queen and Bathurst; there's an alley just south of Queen that is covered in amazing, detailed and very colorful graffiti, and that area is where all of these pieces can be found.

While I was there -at NOON! Broad daylight!- a group of artists were there working on a bunch of new pieces. They didn't want me to take pictures of them working (because they're criminals) but they told me that they are the ones who've done all of the work in those alleys, pretty much.

*Watching them I did pick up that they get the specific, bold lines by breaking off the plastic nozzle from their spray cans. Lesson one...

Here is a selection of my favorite pieces from the alleys there. Click on the pics to see more larger versions. Enjoy.

Some of these were too big to fit into one shot, so they're put together using multiple photos. You can see the seams if you look, but I've tried to fit them together as best as I can.

The shading on this one is incredible:

I have no idea what this says:

I'm amazed at how well these guys can do people. The feathers in the head-dress blow me away:

"Bacon scam":

THE GREAT SPOILER

2008-05-09T09:19:00.001-07:00

I have to admit that I've never liked Hillary Clinton much. Her friendship with Tipper Gore made her first amendment pedigree questionable to me as far back as high school, pre-Clinton White House. After Bill took office and humiliated her with Monica Lewinsky I was uneasy with her reaction; it bothered me how it seemed she allowed it to turn their marriage into a political front: My father cheated on my mom, and at the time especially it was something I couldn't imagine a woman letting go so breezily, and viewing it from the P.O.V. of their kids... It just seemed cheap to me. (Obviously, I had no insight into what was happening behind closed doors between a husband and his wife, but this was my reaction.) When she got into the race for president last year I started to turn a bit in my opinion of her. She was well-spoken, and seemed genuine at first. Unlike others, I actually welcomed what may have been a return to political influence for Bill Clinton... Though I hated what he did to his family, and the lack of respect he showed to the office of the president, I actually think he was quite a good leader when he was being president as opposed to the adulterer in the White House.

So, I'd started to like her. And then she lost some primaries. And when she lost some primaries she started attacking Barack Obama, who I think quite frankly is the real thing, despite all of the indie-band-of-the-moment hype that's surrounded his campaign. It's perfectly ordinary and right for one candidate to attack another's platform, to attack the perceived holes in their theories and plans, but Hill started to attack Obama in the cheapest place possible: His faith. Now, I'm not a religious man. I have my beliefs and would consider myself somewhat spiritual, I guess, but certainly not religious. My problems with the church are expansive and deep-seeded. But Obama is religious, and this is something that is important for an American president to be, and despite my leanings I think that religious faith is incredibly impressive these days and on some level I envy it. I find his faith comforting because it doesn't seem put-on to me, the way George W.'s does, or even Hillary's; it seems real and profound and the kind of thing that would help to keep him running the White House with a good heart, and an eye towards doing right. Anyway. Hillary started to attack his faith, insinuating that the man is a Muslim, and hypocritically mocking his Christianity openly.

I'm not even sure where to start with this.

A candidate for the presidency using the fact that an opponent's name sounds Muslim, and that his skin-color makes him appear Muslim is disgusting on so many levels, the most disgusting of which is that fact that it clearly spells out that she believes that being a Muslim is something of which the country should be weary, because, of course, Muslims are terrorists and want to kill all white people and have no souls or consciences and hate democracy and everything for which the USA stands. (FUN FACT! The USA is in fact not a democracy, it's a republic... This country, committed to spreading the cause of democracy around the world, does not even practice democracy within it's own shores.)

That she attacked his supposed Muslim religion while at the same time making fun of his Christianity exposed her as the sort of desperate, pathetic politician that gives all politicians such bad reputations. She showed herself to be an opportunist with little in the way of morals, and even less in the way of political savvy. (It's a good thing that in the USA political savvy doesn't count for much.)

When Al Gore lost the race for the White House to George W. Hillary, among many, many others blamed Ralph Nader, for taking votes away from Gore by running as an independent and staying in the race well past making a point.

Six months ago Barack Obama was polling without exception well ahead of Clinton and McCain. He was a lock. Now, it's ridiculous to think his numbers were going to stay as strong as they were, but he was in an incredible position, and the idea of the Republicans successfully side-stepping George W.'s legacy was a ridiculous. Even Republicans were admitting a almost insurmountable uphill battle.

But Clinton kept attacking, and attacking. and attacking. She's been in the race months after a victory became a practical impossiblity. The math is a joke. She can't win the nomination. She's been beaten by Obama and beaten again, but still she stays in attacking the man who will surely be her party's nominee for president, weakening the Democratic ticket every time she opens her mouth, and giving the Republicans -now sitting quietly watching her single handedly destroying her party- ammunition. "The Democrats can't even agree on a candidate! We picked one months ago! Ours must be much better than their guy!" Now McCain is polling even and in some cases ahead of Obama. She's Ralph Nader, but worse. You could say "Well, everything Hillary is saying would have come up eventually," and this is true. But: It's a hell of lot worse when it's coming from inside your own house than when it's coming from the people across the street. Had McCain attacked Obama's religion -and to be far, I don't believe he would- it could have been painted as party politics. But when Hillary says it? It's real now. It's a legitimate concern.

We're facing another four years of a Republican White House. Four more years of a party with no love for the poor or visible minorities. Four more years of a party willing to kill it's country's enlisted youth to make a point. And this because of an egotistical opportunist.

And here's a cheap shot for the haters:

(Hey, she's throwing the cheap shots around like tennis balls... She should expect a couple back, no?)

THE MEDIUM IS THE MESSAGE & THE MESSAGE IS TASTY

2008-05-02T15:45:00.001-07:00

There’s a strange thing happening around Toronto, and I’m not sure if it’s meant as a (literally) sugar-coated “fuck you” to the human inhabitants of the city, or if it’s a vicious declaration of war against empty, useless calories.

I was walking into the core on the Saturday of the recent ATU strike (bus-fuckers) and I ran into my friend Laura... (The single positive thing about that greed-soaked day off for Toronto’s transit workers turned out to be that I ran into a lot of friends walking the streets.) We stood out front of the under-construction library near Dufferin and Bloor when I noticed something attached to the “Keep Out” sign near by...

It’s a cupcake. It’s a cupcake nailed to the sign. It says “TWAT.” Somebody made the cupcake, iced the word “TWAT” onto it, carried it to this spot taking pains not to ruin the icing, and nailed it through the centre to the pole, like some kind of sugary Christ-hand or eviction notice. Again, I wasn’t sure what it meant, but it was kind of funny, and we giggled and parted ways, going about our separate days.

Later that night I was at a small gathering at a friend’s place and I mentioned what I’d seen, and another party guest exclaimed that she’d seen it as well, and while we were explaining to the other people present about what we were talking, it became clear that the cupcake I’d seen, and the cupcake she’d seen were two different cupcakes. The one she’d seen, actually, had fallen off of the post and was lying at the base of the pole on the sidewalk. I asked her if she’d looked up to see if there were other cupcakes attached to the post, but she hadn’t. “Why would I?”

As a group we decided on a field trip and made out way down College Street, where she’d had her cupcake encounter, and lo and behold, lying on the sidewalk was a smooshed cupcake with the words “a dick” emblazoned.

Glancing up the post we saw two more cupcakes:

The bottom one goes with the one on the ground, presumably, and says “Go suck.” The top one says “Man up.”

Think of it as a kinder, gentler form of graffiti. “Grafectionary,” or maybe “candfitti.” Abrasive and insulting, yet sweet and easy to swallow. Rebel cupcakes dotting the urban landscape, challenging the city’s inhabitants, making us take deep and disturbing looks into our own selves. Are we, too, just sludge dressed up in sugary goodness? Are our niceties empty calories, hiding the vitriol within?

I’m not sure, but I have to admit to a craving for cupcakes this past week. I like chocolate ones with chocolate chips in the mix, chocolate icing, and maybe some of those little candy sprinkles they put on top. I almost wouldn’t even care if it called me a “fuck-wad,” or “dumb ass” or something, so long as it has it does so in sweet chocolatey goodness.

ESTABLISHED 2008

2008-05-02T04:17:00.000-07:00

I was inspired to start this blog by my friend Shira Leuchter, who has one of her own called In the Sky and On the Road in which she writes about fashion and architecture and other such things. It looked like it might be fun.

On this page I’ll be waxing poetic on, as the subtitle above says, music and design, as well as art and other. It will be opinionated and self-obsessed, and hopefully occasionally funny and enlightening.

The title, Boats Made of Ocean, comes from a song by one of my favorite bands, Television.

Television were a first-wave punk band who weren’t at first glance a punk band. They were poetic and insanely melodic when others were abrasive and jarring. To this day they are regarded as one of he most technically proficient bands not just in punk but in all of pop music, which is stunning, considering their home is a genre known for housing barely competent players. (Sid Vicious, I’m looking at you.)

In the mid-1970's, Television quite literally built the stage on which punk was born, at CBGB’s in New York City. The bar was founded as a spot for bluegrass and country music singers to ply their trades, but Tom Verlaine and Richard Lloyd (the guitarists of Television) convinced it’s owner to allow them to play there on slow nights in return for building him a stage to replace the broken and tattered existing one. He agreed and a few weeks later Television shared that stage with The Ramones and history was in the making. The audiences for Verlaine’s shows became the bar’s bread and butter and country music dropped to the wayside and punk was born.

Anyway, the title of this blog comes from the song “See No Evil,” off of their brilliant debut, Marquee Moon. The lyric goes thusly:

I get ideas
I get a notion
I want a nice little boat
Made out of ocean

For whatever reason that lyric has always stuck in my head as being especially beautiful and interesting. It reminds me of being a teenager and depressed and just wanting the whole shit world to end and the hurt to just go away, but not in an emo sort of way. This will not be an emo blog.

And there it is, the first entry out of the way. To be honest, I’m not sure what kind of blog this will be. I’ll figure that out as I go.

I do know, though, that I picked up the excellent new Elvis Costello & The Imposters album, Momofuku, a couple of days ago, so I’ll be writing about that shortly...