Music died for your sins

Great article on Slate today reviewing a book about the parallel Christian pop culture that has exploded in the past 15-20 years.

The whole article is fascinating, but the part about the stresses that Christian rock bands face was most interesting:

The Christian rockers Radosh interviews are always torn between the pressure not to lead their young audience astray and the drive to make good music...

They want to make good, authentic music. But they are also enlisted in a specific mission which confines their art.

Here's where I have to disagree. When I'm wearing my graphic and information design hats, I always have to be aware of constraints. Whether it's audience or media or choice of colors or word counts or legal requirements or whatever, constraints define my work. And here's the thing: limitations make it better.

How? Constraints force you to focus your work. If a few aspects of your project have already been decided ahead of time, you have to work around them. You have more time to be creative with other aspects of the project. You find clever ways to turn those limitations into advantages. You aren't paralyzed by limitless choice. You have to think. You have to work harder! And your work will overall be better for it.

As this article from Wired points out, Hemingway thought his greatest story was only six words long: "For sale: baby shoes, never worn."

This music blogger did a similar trick by reviewing almost 800 MP3s but limiting his thoughts to six words for each. Most of them are pretty clever.

This cartoonist forced himself to write 200 comics in under 12 hours, and I don't think he would improve on the tight, clever, stream of consciousness humor if he took 12 months.

Back to design, these guys made a fairly beautiful webpage/flyer for a conference with only Times New Roman, the much-maligned default font. Hell, some of the greatest typographers who ever lived only had one typeface available to them. They worked with what they had.

This applies, of course, to music as well.

Only a few truly, absurdly gifted musicians can get away with doing whatever they want. Radiohead comes to mind. Beck can almost pull it off.

Remember OutKast's split double album Speakerboxxx/The Love Below? Andre, set loose to fulfill his every wacky fantasy on his half, created "Hey Ya!," which was undeniably perfect but was sadly surrounded with 9 relatively crappy, aimless songs.

Me First and the Gimme Gimmes have made an entire career out of their self-imposed restraint: they only do punk covers of popular songs from other genres. And they're awesome at it.





I always wondered how good the Smashing Pumpkins could be if Billy Corgan would have just lived with, say, 2 guitar tracks per song instead of arguably wasting his time laying 64 guitar overdubs in pursuit of perfection. Such excesses worked for a while:



I always thought they did their best when they briefly lost their drummer and Corgan had to write better songs to make up for it:



Ryan Adams is another great example: he's clearly absurdly talented, but his genre hopping dilutes what he's capable of. He's pretty good at rock and roll:



He's even better when he sticks to alt country (whatever that means) and focuses on the songcraft a little more (not that he has to that much; like I said, he's ridiculously good):



The Magnetic Fields' stock in trade has always been arbitrary limitations, like their triple album 69 Love Songs, which hops genres constantly but the songs are all love songs (albeit with a variety of definitions of 'love song'). Here's one example:



Or their latest album "Distortion" where all instruments and vocals were arbitrarily drenched in, you guessed it, distortion. All the better to focus on the delightful lyrics:



They also had an album ("i") where every song started with "i". Why? Why not? Now you don't have to decide what letter your songs will start with. Get cracking on making every other aspect of the album better.

So what's the point? If Christian pop music groups can't work within their arbitrary constraint (ie, every song is about loving Jesus instead of a lady), they're doing something wrong. This limitation should force you to be more creative in every other aspect of your songcraft. It should make you better.

The expectations of your Christian audience aren't holding you back.

You just suck.

Who watches the Watchmen?

One of my long-term goals has always been to write this blog openly, without the beautiful anonymity of the Internet. I understand immediately that the 7 or 8 people that read this blog know who I am anyway, but humor me--isn't humoring the author what all blogs are about, anyway?--for a moment.

I think we can all agree that anonymity is both the best and worst thing about the Internet. Certainly, the ability to post on message boards and make comments without knowing who's talking has allowed innumerable people to voice their opinions who might not otherwise.

However, this has opened the floodgates to an unfathomable amount of idiocy, best encapsulated by this Penny Arcade comic about the "Greater Internet Fuckwad Theory": Normal Person + Anonymity + Audience = Total Fuckwad.

Perceived intelligence of the site doesn't matter; popularity breeds stupidity, regardless of content. The more popular and highly trafficked the site, the grander the scope of idiocy you'll see. Check the comments after any article on the normally intelligent New York Times and you'll see that the masses in the comments are just as ignorant (and willing to wax poetic about the ignorance of others) as, say, YouTube. Last month, a brave writer on Slate scanned the 60,000+ comments on a YouTube video of a laughing baby and correctly noted that "In our time, Internet commenting has become its own special form of social idiocy" and that letting the YouTubers at a cute video of a child was akin to "dipping a bunny into acid."

On top of bringing countless types of abrasive idiocy to light, even well-meaning messages without a name attached are, in my opinion, virtually worthless.

I speak from bitter experience here. My junior year in high school, myself and a few close friends had gotten fed up with the direction that (start laughing...) our marching band (...now) was headed. I don't remember the nerdy, socially awkward details at all, but what's important at the moment is that we were hopping mad and wanted our leadership to make some changes.

So, god damnit, we wrote a long, well-reasoned letter to our band directors that laid out our grievances and offered some reasonable resolutions.

We were, however, big pussies and didn't want to get in trouble if our letter was poorly received. So we didn't put our names on it and dropped it in the suggestion box when no one was looking.

The next day between class and our daily loser meeting band practice, we heard the distinct sound of laughter coming from the directors' office. The ruckus was, predictably, over our letter. They were laughing outright at our reasonable suggestions! How dare they?! Amidst the chuckles, I heard our percussion teacher say, "they make some good points, but because there's no name on this thing, I just can't take it seriously."

That stuck with me: your words are infinitely more valuable in the long run if you're willing to stand by them.

In addition, anonymity can be infuriating to whoever reads your message. Take this note that I found on top of my office computer this morning:



If you can't read it, it says:

Laptops must be stored in a locked cabinet outside office hours.
Don't let audit catch you like this.

While it's surely well-meaning and trying to keep me out of trouble with all-powerful security folks, without a name or anything else attached, it just seems kind of dickish, no? That's certainly how I read it at first. Hell, entire Web sites exist to display the passive-aggressive dickery that comes naturally with anonymous notes. Even if I wanted to thank whoever wrote it (which I did after I calmed down a bit), I don't know who to talk to.

So it's been with some trepidation that I have been blogging for years without putting my name beside it.

I was planning on changing that after getting my master's last December. As I've started moving into the information architecture and web design fields, I've wanted to write about a number of relevant topics; however, I didn't want to put it out there anonymously. What if it's good stuff? There's a pretty robust community of professionals that blog out there, my name is as Google-able as could be, and good content could be just one more networking opportunity. What if a kick-ass blog post with some solid ideas gets me a job some day?

I figured that a blog could complement my portfolio (which definitely has my name all over it) nicely. I even coded the whole damn thing in Wordpress and was ready to go live.

Plus, it would be nice to be able to publicly host my own content and, accordingly, have total control over it.

Then this happened: a CNN producer, Chez Pazienza, got fired for blogging, even though he did so anonymously and never mentioned his employer.

Also, this happened: Mike Tunison, aka "Christmas Ape" of Kissing Suzy Kolber and Deadspin got fired from the Washington Post shortly after coming out of the blogging closet. Why did he cast off the beautiful cloak of anonymity? For full disclosure! And, ironically, the Post, a journalistic enterprise, had a problem with that.

Now, granted, Tunison wrote howlingly funny and wildly inappropriate posts about Philip Rivers and Hines Ward, but he never claimed to be writing for anyone else other than himself and his readers. He certainly wasn't representing the Post or his day job as a local beat reporter.

For his part, Chez also wrote howlingly funny and wildly inappropriate (and harshly opinionated) posts about any number of topics, including the current state of the news media. If you were to scan his posts, he would probably come off as a total ass.

But what an eloquent ass! Check out some of his greatest hits:

• Chez writes about his experience as a young reporter in the middle of a hurriance


• Chez writes about the value of human life after getting surgery for a brain tumor


• Chez suggests a moderate proposal: Kill Ann Coulter


• Chez goes to a My Chemical Romance concert and discusses the youth of the nation


• How to charm Chez in the style of Men's Health narcissistic pabulum


• PJ Harvey gets Chez through some hard times


• Here's a punch to the gut: Chez writes beautifully about a dead girl he never knew

That's some great stuff. It's a shame that CNN and the Post chose to dismiss such pure talent over what they did in their spare time. Sure, they have every legal right to fire whomever they please. And Chez and Tunison have every right to write about whatever they want on their personal sites, anonymous or no. I just don't think blogging is sufficient reason to lose your job, especially when you don't mention said day job in your posts. Especially when they're doing something (writing) that their choice of day job shows they obviously love. It's like getting fired for enjoying cooking in your spare time when your day job is a line cook.

"But they're so outlandish and opinionated! Surely that must affect their day jobs!" Bullshit. Most of us can and do check our private lives at the door when we put on our day job hats. And who says they can't coexist? I thought Forbes was wise to embrace and promote one of their staff writers after he was publicly outed as blogger Fake Steve Jobs.

And it's not for fame or money, either. Blogging isn't exactly a claim to fame or riches. Let's look at a popular blog for example. Deadspin.com is arguably the biggest and most influential sports blog out there. On Technorati's admittedly loose definition and ranking of blogs, it's the #61 top blog, and the most popular sports blog on the Internet (if you're curious that places it far below Gawker, Daily Kos, Drudge Report, and the ridiculously high-ranked icanhazcheeseburger.com; and just ahead of Freakonomics.). According to founder Will Leitch, on a good month Deadspin gets about 2 million page views. To compare, Sports Illustrated's site gets that in about a day. ESPN.com in probably half a day or less. It's just not that big, even if it's top dog among blogs. Here's a fun exercise: ask your parents if they've heard of blogging legends Dooce, Tucker Max, or Big Daddy Drew. Nope? Thought so. Accordingly, the money isn't going to be great. Have you checked out the pay rates on Internet ads? A penny for every 10,000 click-throughs? I can't lose!

Of course, folks have been getting fired for blogging as long as there have been blogs. (See: Dooce)

Still, it's a shame that a blog that doesn't mention your employer can be grounds for getting fired.

Given this, I'm staying in the shadows until I'm fully working for myself. Not that it matters, since probably a dozen people read this and they're almost all my real-life friends. And I've been sloppy: if you dig enough, it's not impossible to link my real name to this blog. I'm Facebook buddies with my boss at work. I'm pretty much working on borrowed time here.

But I might as well not actively make it any easier.

So if anyone who doesn't know me in real life wants to know, my name might be Lee, my full name is very Google-friendly, and I work for major multinational firm Compuglobalhypermeganet. See you on the Internets.

Anarchy in the USA

Be very afraid.

Why, you ask?

What you see above is my copy of the American Community Survey from the Dept. of Commerce.

My answers determine where your tax dollars go. Roads, schools, employment programs, you name it. They base those decisions in part on the results of this survey.

You don't want me to have this power. I wield power poorly. My managerial style could best be described as begging my subordinates not to kill me. Some chipmunks can outwit me. I screw up the preparation of Pop Tarts. I think at one point I voted for Nader. NADER!

I'm sorry in advance.

Care to guess what was in my iTunes shopping cart?

These days I use my iTunes shopping cart as a wishlist of sorts. I don't buy it very often, so right now there's a lot of stuff in there after I've recovered from the financial strain of moving and starting a new job.

The music I've been meaning to buy must be some pretty eclectic stuff, because this is what I saw last time I took a peek:



The Spin Doctors and Proclaimers seem reputable, but "Peanut Butter Jelly Time"???

What on earth powers their recommendation algorithm? And why would I ever pay real money for "Peanut Butter Jelly Time"?

Anyway, I haven't cleared out the cart yet. Care to take a guess at what's in there?

My name is Eel and I approved this message

Via Slate:



Run splel cehck, jeaniyus.

Here's the original ad.

Al Queda knows that our bases have streets and planes. We're losing the war on terror!

"I think they can see us"

The military has banned Google Maps from taking 'Street View' pictures of military bases.

Call me crazy or a traitor or a communist, but what's the harm?

Terrorist on a computer: "Mohammed! Come quick! I have Googled the infidels' military bases and I can see what's there! Yup, they've got barracks. There's some guy's Humvee that's double parked. I pan around and I see runways. That means, by deduction, that they probably have... yes! Planes! They have planes!

Or, uh, had planes. This picture is probably at least weeks old so they could have moved it.

Um, there are some other buildings...

...

...

... this is all very obvious and tactically useless."

But because this is surely the work of our brilliant homeland security department, don't count on being able to use Google Earth or Google Maps for much longer. Considering we're told day in and day out that all of America is in danger, our easy access to satellite imagery is probably not long for this earth.

No Enjoyment for Overstimulated Assholes

My imaginary rebuttal to the snap review of No Country for Old Men from a young, male, audience member who spent the entire quiet, contemplative, solemn film talking on his goddamn cell phone.

[Upon witnessing the ending of a haunting, beautifully crafted film that has an ending scene that is as perfect and thought-provoking as it is thoroughly lacking a tidy resolution or happy ending]
Asshole in audience: That's it? Is there a second act? Have they planned a sequel? What a fuckin' waste of time!
Me [in my mind]: Dude, the new Larry the Cable Guy movie is down the hall.

I thought of that one two minutes later in the car. Jerk store would have smoked that guy.

Also, I'm done with grad school and about to be gainfully employed, so look for me to finally get back to this blog in the near future.

[Crickets]

No one reading anymore? I thought so.

Oh yeah! Tang!

Until yesterday I would have told you that the best Kool-Aid Man joke would be this classic from the pilot episode of Family Guy:



Until today, when I found out that Robot Chicken trumped it:

How old are you?

So, I turned 26 the other week. Up until now it's felt like 25, only more so. Until I read this article from the Wall Street Journal:

Facebook, with a stripped-down aesthetic well-attuned to grown-up sensibilities, is graying. The company won't be precise about the average age of its users, but it will say that the oldest age-group it tracks -- users 25 and older -- is also its fastest-growing.

...

I'm in the oldest demographic that Facebook cares about.

Holy shit that makes me feel old.

Hey, I still have a blog

[Crawls out from under a mountain of work]

Whoa, there's still light up here.

Seems like everyone needs some laughs these days, so have some random videos from Robot Chicken:

Like this 300 parody:



Or maybe this immensely funny Final Fantasy VII spoof that had me rolling on the floor, but I can't embed it for some reason.

And, finally, how to deal with impending death:

Oh, and since you can't top reality, did you know that James Lipton was an I-swear-I'm-not-making-this-up French pimp:



Words fail me on that one.

Phew. See you all in a month or so.