I started to write this blog on Bastille Day, but I got hungry and forgot about it. Most Americans could give a shit about Bastille Day (July 14), and I only think of it as a day to engorge oneself in French cuisine.
In NYC there is usually a small outdoor thing going on for Bastille Day. All the Francophiles head down to flex their linguistic muscles, and dolts like me make an appearance just long enough to buy my crepes and run.
Banana crepes with chocolate sauce could only be more awesome if spread across an emaciated, young, rocker boy's hairless chest, but even without the human platter, they rock the 'buds like nothing else.
I have a French surname, as well as French ancestors (duh). I speak, read, and write a decent amount of French, and my favorite food is also FRENCH. I've not been to France, but I've visited French speaking Canada (where my favorite "Scot" in the world lives. I know 6 different Scot/Scotts), and I cringe like a Republican at the threat of Universal Healthcare when I hear the language mispronounced. So yeah, that and the permanently snippy look on my face often gives away this segment of my heritage (we look pissy, but are very warm and friendly, apparently too much so).
I adore French directors (did my thesis on Truffaut for film class), and their products. "Amelie", "The Bride Wore Black", "Un Coeur en Hiver", "Belle De Jour", and "Delicatessen" (brilliantly insane) to name a few.
I thought of these things when I first abandoned this blog, but then weird French stuff kept appearing on my scope, if you will.
One thing was a dream that I was in Provence, where I've never been, and I've never even spoke of. In the dream, I was sporting a gigantic soft taco (not like that) that I had folded in half twice, under my left arm like a portfolio. (I really don't care to know if that means anything - REALLY!)
The following day when I checked my email, there was a Myspace friend request from a band called "Five June" from France. Guess what area? Provence! Freaked my ass out. I kind of dig 'em too; they have that Patti Smith-gets-even-dirtier vibe about them, so I accepted.
France isn't really known for its hot music scene. I mean, in the dance world HELLz yeah - "Daft Punk", "Yelle", "Les Rita Mitsouko", but to my recollection, there's never been a French "Beatles" type of group.
Lots of non-English speaking bands have the quirky thing ("Cibo Matto"), or the dance thing (again "Cibo Matto") but do these countries ever produce bands like "Coldplay," "U2", or "Radiohead"? Meaningful pop music, for lack of better terms.
Does Germany have bands like "Snow Patrol?" Does Italy have its own version of "Death Cab for Cutie"? Or do these countries only generate bands that dress in angry pig costumes, and robot dance to endless computer loops?
Are power chords and piccolo snares not as satisfying as accordions and tubas? Are there any Emo bands in India or China? Are these countries just satisfied with "spectator" status? What is it about the English world that facilitates the above mentioned bands, but is not inherent in the Ukraine?
"Five June" has a garage band sound, so at least that's a step in a different direction from what I have assumed of France. But you know what happens when you assume (oh did I really just type something that lame? Yep).
One band that I really like that sings in English is "Prime STH", who hail from Sweden, which also gave us "PB&J" ("Peter, Bjorn, & John"). Indie rock, but not BIG time pop bands.
If anyone knows of any more, by all means, send them along.
I'm all ears (if only, but then I couldn't type).
Currently listening : Underneath the Surface By Prime STH Release date: 2001-07-10
"It's king and queen and we must go down round behind the chandelier where I won't have to speak my mind and you won't have to hear. Shreds of news and afterthoughts and complicated scenes. We'll weather down behind the light and fade like magazines" Romeo's Tune - Steven Forbert
If you haven't seen "The Squid and the Whale" by now, by all means get your eyes on it, and then check out Noah Baumbach's next work "Margot at the Wedding".
I saw "The Squid and the Whale" just over a year ago, and it certainly raised a brow right off of my face (it collided with the ceiling fan - painful and ugly). Baumbach, the filmmaker, has an intellectual honesty about sexuality and dysfunctional families that you either salivate for, or detest. He has an exquisite indie style that I don't always get ("The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou" was complete shit, but he's only guilty of writing it, not directing), but he's nothing, if not impressionable.
Last night (well, 4 AM this morning), I viewed "Margot at the Wedding", his film from last year. It's not as good as "Squid", but there was some formidable dialogue, as well as some good tune-age. The characters weren't as developed as they could've been and a majority of the editing was a bit erratic, but I get the feeling this is a jumping off point to bigger and better.
It was a little hard to buy Jack Black as the serious guy, Malcolm, but I love the line that Kidman's character, Margot, uses in regards to him: "He's not ugly, but he is completely unattractive." (Yeah he's naked in this and my corneas aren't taking my calls anymore, despite promises of shirtless Jared Leto photos.)
I think judging by the cast, some would be sniffing too hard in what they think is the "chick flick" direction, but their sexist asses might be a tad surprised.
Baumbach is a native Brooklynite, and like his predecessor Woody Allen, he places women in very meaty roles instead of roles where they are merely "meat". Why do you think Allen got so much play in the '70's and '80's? He changed film for women. "Interiors", "Another Woman", and "Annie Hall" made that f'ugly little genius the most sought after lay on both coasts back in the day. (If you further our cause, we further yours - strange how that works ay? Don't treat us like were just a piece [even if we act like it] and you'll be showered in piece a' bounty.) I'm a die hard Allen fan (books and film) but this blog's going to stay in the confines of Baumbach's stuff.
"I don't listen to music anymore."
WHAT???????? The character Margot, who seems to be a combination of the two parents from "Squid", nonchalantly spews this as if she's talking about giving up skiing or something. In my book, the only way you don't listen to music anymore is if you're 100% deaf, or dead. And even then, I think I could conjure a way. WTF?
I've heard of people like this. They conform to the dictates of societal ageism and resign themselves to being couch plants that live through their children. That's a choice, and certainly not one I'm up for selecting. Life without music isn't a life. I don't know if I'll make it to like 60 or 70, but I still plan on shakin' my thing till it falls off, basically. I don't give a fuck how it looks. I'm here for my ears, not for those judgmental eyes placed so rigidly above pursed lips, and giant noses that can't mind their own.
I will NEVER bail on music.
Eh…Margot clearly had a stick up her ass, but this film does slip in some Blondie (2 songs!) and an obscure old fave of mine "Romeo's Tune" by Steven Forbert. The fact that that song is highlighted has endeared Baumbach to me forever.
"Margot at the Wedding" wasn't great, but again, if you dug "Squid", it's a must see. I don't think it's as fluid as say, "Mr. Jealousy" and "Kicking and Screaming" (also by Baumbach), but like "Squid", it's unpredictability is addictive.
Currently listening : Eat to the Beat By Blondie Release date: 2001-09-11
"The world today seems absolutely crackers, with nuclear bombs to blow us all sky high. There are fools and idiots sitting on the trigger. It's depressing and it's senseless, and that's why...I like Chinese." I Like Chinese - Monty Python
MMMMMmmmmm yummy, just finished some Chicken Mei Fun mixed with Chicken and Garlic Sauce, my two faves from China Wok. It's not as good as NYC Chinese food, but for where I live, it works.
When I did eat Chinese food in NYC, I ate off a plate, as you do, but you notice in a lot of New York based movies they have characters eating the food directly from the containers?
Who the fuck really does that?
These annoyingly, pretentious ass holes that put scenes like that in a flick think its artsy or some shit to be in NYC eating take-out that way. I think it's disgusting and completely implausible if you eat what I eat; hot food that mostly has to be mixed with some separate ingredients. So unless you despise the nerve endings in your hand, or fantasize about having a glove made of sweet and sour sauce, it's all about the plate.
I ate Chinese food on a weekly basis in NYC (often with Chinese people, who would sooner implode than eat from a container like that), and never once saw anyone scarfing from the boxes.
Maybe it's just me that finds this irritating. I do have some quirks (don't even get me started on white shoes - yikes), but let's get back to what I likes. =)
Ok, the Chinese are not known for their chart topping hits. In fact, I can't name one musician (that isn't Classical) from where the Pandas hang (if you can, I really don't give a rat's booty, go write your own blog), but they do have some wild movies.
"Mr. Vampire", hands down is my favorite. If you like really awful b-movies, this will kill you. It's totally a Fu flick, so martial arts cats will dig it no matter what, but stoners and those of you imbibing in various other things will LOOOOOVE it.
It's one of those cheesy films where you can sometimes see the wires that the actors are hanging from, and the jonesy musical score is superb!
I'm not a Fu movie fan by any shot, but I nearly laughed out of my skin when I saw this one (stone cold sober, might I add).
If you can tolerate a bouncy, glitch-filled youtube version, it is available there in about ten segments from this guy: http://www.youtube.com/user/meetou. As far as downloads in any other capacity (wink wink), I've not come across it.
I've no intention of ever going to China (unless I hook up with one of those Panda singles); as far as I'm concerned the "Great Wall" was the one holding up the back part of the stage at CBGB's (may it RIP).
Besides, I heard the Chinese food there isn't that great. :}
Currently listening : Monty Python’s Contractual Obligation Album By Monty Python Release date: 2007-04-10
(This blog probably only makes sense if you read a previous one I've written called "Guess Who Digs Me?" dated here on Sunday July 20th, first)
I guess Jesus doesn't read my blogs, cuz he's still scamming on me. Now it's even spread to my photo albums.
Yes the sponsored links are now leeching off the captions you put on your myspace photos. So like where I put "Me on Mt. Hood", there are ads for Mt. Hood resorts below it. I mention guitars or cats and get hounded to buy lessons or "Date Siamese Felines".
People's names bring up some interesting things. One was an ad for divorce lawyers, and it ironically showed up on my friend's pic that is going through a divorce. Creepy.
Out of the sheer need to NOT think my usual thoughts, I changed up a few of em just to see what ads popped up.
On one of my captions, I put "Fuck fuckety fuck you, you fucking fuckface" (I have a t-shirt with something close to that on it), and it pulled an ad for '69 Camaros.
On two others, I put "Murdering atheist vampire molester" and "Cookie brained armpit licker". Instead of finding something from that, the computer pulled from my profile interests ( I guess they're only willing to go so far).
The first one generated "Like the White Stripes?" which is clearly one of the bands I put down. The second one grabbed from my movies, somehow tying in "What the Bleep?" to financial freedom, and "I Heart the Huckabees" snagged an ad for Mike Huckabee Campaign GEAR ("Gear" really? Yeesh). Does he not know that McCain has won the Presidency, er em the nomination? (Let's not fool ourselves, he is the next president. Even Oprah can't change that, unless she ran as an indie. I wonder if everyone would get a car and a makeover then.)
I'm still not positive what is triggering the "Jesus" ads, but I'd be interested to find out if anyone else gets them.
I need to know if he's really into me, or if he's simply just another myspace whore.
Currently listening : Lola versus Powerman and the Money-Go-Round, Part One By The Kinks Release date: 1990-10-25
"Things are shaping up to be pretty odd Little deaths in musical beds So it seems I'm someone I've never met" That Green Gentleman - Panic at the Disco
Last night when I was on my way home, the exit I needed was closed and I got lost for a bit. I usually have an impressive sense of direction, and I wasn't drunk, but I got all turned around just from one glitch in the itinerary.
I didn't have to inquire of myself as to HOW I got where I was, as that was obvious. In this case, it was just a matter of resolution.
My mishap added another ½ hour to my ride, and I was thinking about some weird shit in my life and wondering the origins of said shit. How did it come to this?
Then I thought "Eh fuck that analytical nonsense! Thinking about that stuff is probably why I got lost in the first place!"
I really missed New York at that moment. I mean, I love driving, but I sort of missed being able to get pissed out of my gore and then carted home by either train or cab.
I REALLY missed being able to annoy the shit out of the Sikh cab drivers that totally hate women too. I got one to laugh once, which is a feat, since showing any facial expression at all is probably against their belief system. I'm normally quiet in the cab, but these people fascinate me, and the act of annoying sexist ass holes is a far more interesting hobby than scrap booking, wouldn't ya say?
Once I got into the cab and gave the destination, I started asking him questions like "Hey do you like The Clash?" - NO! (A Soup Nazi from Seinfeld kind of NO.)
"How about Pavement?" - NO!
"Kula Shaker? My Bloody Valentine? Echo and the Bunnymen?" - NO! NO! NO!
I'd go through a list of 20 or so bands, getting the same response every time; neither of us changing tone or inflection. It almost felt scripted, like a flat scene from a Jarmusch flick with a hint of Bugs Bunny.
I then leaned towards the malodorous front half of the cab and bellowed oh so obnoxiously, "CUNTTTTTTTTTTTT tree music! That's your thing isn't it? Five bucks says you have some ass-less chaps on under whatever that thingy is you're wearing! You're one of those line dancing fuckers aren't you? YOU are a TURBAN COWBOY!!"
Then I quickly sang this made up twang: "Turban Cowboy, I swear that was his name. He drives a cab in Brooklyn, goes line dancing when he can. He says he's got a woman who sings them country songs, and when he gets his green card he gonna move to a Honky Tonk! YeeeeeeHawwwwww!"
He absolutely lost his shit.
I couldn't have timed it better as my building was in sight. Still giggling, he refused my money and waved me out of the cab saying "You are a VERY crazy."
To which I replied, "Yes, I are."
Currently listening : Coming To Terms By Carolina Liar Release date: 2008-05-20
"Up in my lonely room when I'm dreaming of you. Oh what can I do? I still need you, but I don't want you now." *
I can't f*ckin' sleep lately. Well, I can from like 7am-3pm, but I prefer the 4-noon shift. When I do sleep, the dreams are very annoying. It's bad enough that certain people have to taint your waking life, but when they chase you down into slumber land, oy, that blows.
My first night in New Mexico I dreamt of someone I so didn't want to, it's like my own subconscious despises me. Maybe I have an autoimmune brain, that might account for all the crazy (gotta blame something right?).
"When I'm down and my hands are tied, I cannot reach a pen for me to draw the line. From this pain I just can't disguise. It's gonna hurt but I'll have to say goodbye" *
I think it's harder to sleep when you don't like to be alone with your thoughts. Music, TV, books, and other people can be miraculous distractions from our worst enemy - ourselves.
"Up in my lonely room when I'm dreaming of you. Oh what can I do? I still need you, but I don't want you now." *
I can kill the lights and stranglehold my pillows, but the thoughts just keep ruminating, sticking a violent elbow into that divide between awake and out cold (or "out hot" for my reptilian readers - my fan base is about 20% lizards and 7% smiling gators).
Last night, the song quoted above (in addition to thoughts of barely legal, rocker boys) was bouncing around my grey matter for whatever reason, fueling my insomnia. The song's about 5 years old, but never loses its flavor with me. It blatantly rips off "My World is Empty without You" by the Supremes, but that doesn't piss me off for some reason. I have an exceptional ear for picking out who rips off what, but to my chagrin, it's not even a somewhat lucrative skill. Along with it, I also have some sort of Tourette's related problem causing me to tell people who they steal from, which is not always welcome information. It's bought me a few enemies, but some people surprisingly respect my awkward bullets of truth (my aim is rather low so it shouldn't hurt THAT bad).
"Two Ways Out" by Darker My Love rips off Supergrass' "Alright". My precious Radiohead has ripped off a few songs by The Hollies, Beethoven, and even something from the musical "Jesus Christ Superstar", (those thieving bastards!), but it's allowed. Monsieur McCartney certainly borrowed from Procol Harum when he wrote "Let it Be" (the chords in "Salad Days", which has the best line, "Your skin crawls up an octave"). The list of leeches could go on forever, or at least until you fall asleep.
Ok, back to the manorexic rocker boys in those tight fitting, low rise jeans…no rest for the wicked. =)
* Dreaming of You - The Coral
Currently listening : The Coral By The Coral Release date: 2003-03-04
