THE JO-TEL …believes some of what Nathaniel and John say, but believes England is still our sovreign

Dear Apple,

You know I love you, but sometimes you do stuff that I can’t get behind. The recessed headphone jack on the first generation iPhone; the ill-fated G4 Cube, as cool a concept as it was; discontinuing the 160GB iPod the week before I was planning to buy one - which happened to be the same week Toshiba announced a 240GB drive that would’ve fit inside that very same iPod shell; the fact that your shit is mostly out of my price range and absolutely not something I need but I hella want all of it anyway because you have an amazing marketing department (you’re like the GOP of computer companies, as BMK12000 put it).

And now you’ve done it again with that kind-of-totally-stupid Genius feature in iTunes 8.

Like a good little zombie, I duly upgraded to 8 Tuesday when it was released [FN1]. And I admit: I like the new Grid View. But I decided to give Genius a whirl just now while I was listening to “Misty Mountain Hop“, and here are a few of the songs you thought, “Oh, hey, y’know what else in your iTunes library goes well with ‘Misty Mountain Hop’? These songs!”:

Yellow Ledbetter (Pearl Jam)
The Needle And The Damage Done (Neil Young)
Play With Fire (Rolling Stones)
Heart of Gold (Neil Young)
Watching The Wheels [Home Recording] (John Lennon)
Behind Blue Eyes (The Who)
Going To California (Led Zeppelin, yeah, but come on…)

Here’s the thing, Apple: those are all songs I like, and that’s great, but figuring that out isn’t rocket science: they’re on my computer [FN2]. But even though I like them, they’re NOTHING LIKE MISTY MOUNTAIN HOP!

MMH is a fucking JAM, Apple! You hear that shit and you’re like, “FUCK yeah…” You can’t HELP but tap your foot, nod your head, and play the motherfucking AIR drum, Apple! (I mean… not ME, but y’know… probably SOME people… … … *ahem*).

Anyway, I’m supposed to believe that after jamming the fuck out for five minutes to one of the best songs on IV I’m gonna want to listen to Eddie Vedder warble a song about a friend’s brother dying in the Gulf War? Are you fucking serious?! Not a chance in hell. I’d rather watch a full season of According to Jim than have my mellow harshed like that again.

Watch yourself, Apple. You’re starting to piss me off with this garbage. I’m not saying I’m gonna go back to PCs any time soon, but have you seen those Microsoft commercials with Gates and Seinfeld?

I’m just sayin’….

- Thrill

FN1: Somewhat ironically, I still run Tiger, but gimme a break: this is a work computer and I have to deal with compatibility issues… also, I don’t own this badboy.
FN2: I mean, maybe it is: I’ve got like 11k songs on my computer and I’ve probably heard maybe 6k of them, maybe.
FN3: Fuck Count on this post: five, not counting this fucking foot note.

“Hammer-On Mega Dinner”

Dismounting is when you cut the shit out of your eye
Ball. Cut it out before
It’s like the Roman Empire:
A history of killing Julius Caesar turned
Into a history of Christian revisionism
Thanks to fucking Gibbon.

“Open Your Hands Like My Finger”

Years of drinking one full beer at each show
Has resulted in one finger turned
Toward the sky becoming now
Matt’s flat hand leveled at the ceiling.
Fuck.

“Stalls Over the Ocean”

Thank you for our drumset, you
Or on Thanksgiving, you onset you
Jester like
You jester like owls
Not who you seem but like the pint
Where the shelf that
Shakes with feet
Drum

“Hail Rothchild”

Your mother’s donkey
Yes over there, you
Your mother’s donkey is a dragon
When you killed it a nation of
Starter kits sprung from the earth
And you then must
Kill them one by one, you whale killer
You

“Parallel Feats”

Heracles by the outskirts of town
The dead tall grass there. The five
People in town saw you. You who
Helped goad five goaded Heracles
Lovers whose fields we plowed from
Before we were born, you know?

“When I’m in Yr Eyes”

There was then, there was now
It was that one time when we
Turned on our way out of the
Gymnasium and looked into Dave
Berman’s significant gaze, you know?

Five times before that you were by
The well where the water would
Sparkle in the sun so well that
Your eyes hurt before you touched
My arm, it was just like you thought.

Around the corner you turned where
The gym door swung open into
The alley where William
Figured out how to write about the
Abortion clinic that flows like a river.

“Just Good Jam”

The radiator thumps like dust this
Morning. Not like doing it sounds.
The owner of Domo is drunk and
Throwing away his whole store.

-Shark

I watched some scattered scenes from Apollo 13 last night. I’ve seen it before, but paying limited attention I was struck how many tiresome tropes of the mainstream movies it highlights. As a threshold matter, I think Apollo 13 is an admirable movie, on the better end of the Hollywood spectrum. Howard does a good job of using familiar camera work to portray how vulnerable these manned space craft are. But, at the same time, as I watched it I realized how bored/tired I was with the typical Hollywood-style suspense plot. The problem is that you know the dilemma will be resolved, even when the historical outcome is not public knowledge (like with the Apollo 13 stuff). Once you realize that, all the “twists” and suspenseful plot knots become transparent and tedious. I mean, it’s tough for me to fret when the CO2 starts rising because there’s still one hour left in the movie, so you know that they’re going to resolve this issue and then move on to face several others that will make this early dilemma seem small in comparison (it would be cool if the biggest challenge came one hour in and then for the rest of the movie they just dealt with minor malfunctions and inconveniences: “oh crap, we’re out of toilet paper!”). It’s hard to be anything but disappointed when everything else turns out okay. I mean, would be cool if everyone died in the end, even though in reality they all survived. Talk about a shocker! Kind of like how Shakespeare kills off Cordelia and Lear despite them surviving in the source legend. People were pretty broken up about that at the time. These days it takes a wardrobe malfunction at the Super Bowl to get most people that riled up.

-Shark

?

!

-Hip E.

In typical fashion, Hip E. purchased two tickets to the Matt & Kim show at Bottom of the Hill months early with little guarantee that: (a) he would remember that he had purchased the tickets; (b) he would not lose the tickets somehow; or (c) he or anyone else would want to actually attend when the time came. We had seen these two open for someone at the Independent. But we could not remember who.

After a particularly long day of billing drudgery at the firm, I decided to go. Checking out the opening band, Best Fwends, on myspace, I determined them to be twee-punk and realized that they would be fun to watch, even if their album wasn’t going to explode anyone’s year-end list. I informed Hip E. that they were twee-punk when he was leaving to pick me up. He took it pretty well.

We got rather drunk on Jack Daniels and Gatorade before entering, which was nice. Also, I wedged the water bottle with said concoction into the fence next to the front door before entering and was pleasantly surprised when I returned after Best Fwends and it was still there. However, I was then faced with the challenge of how to bring it in to the show (which I had decided I wanted to do). My pants were too tight to wedge it in the crotch without looking too obviously like circa-1981 Judas Priest. The front of the sweatshirt wasn’t working either. But I managed to cloak it under my arm and under the hoodie– worked VERY nicely.

To rewind, Best Fwends was fun. They didn’t actually play instruments, they just sang over their pre-recorded tracks, The Blow-style. It was fun and allowed them to interact with the audience and create a most pit, for instance. Why do bands even need to play instruments, I wondered against my better judgment? Kim was watching them and looked happy, which was interesting because when they came on they told everyone that they were sick.

Matt & Kim are great. For a band that stakes their appeal on the childlike happiness of their music and performance, it’s amazing that they had no haters. No one can resist falling in love with Kim on the drums. They are just keyboard and drums– an inverted Mates of States. But in my opinion they have replaced that band– who’s neutered Re-Arrange Me is, for me, the most disappointing album of the year– as the go-to lo-fi twee-pop band for the right mood. They had a big banner that they wanted everyone to sign, but Matt commented about the trend of drawing penises on the sign and admonished that no one could draw a penis unless they actually took their penis out. After the show, Hip E. and I pulled our pants down and drew penises on the banner.

And in typical fashion, Hip E. bought their CD.

-Shark

Stepmom:  “I would like another teabag.”

Turd:  “That’s what she said.”

Goose and the rest of the family at breakfast:  “…..”

We’re on the lam from online casino, free cialis, and, of course, that insidious rogue phentamine. Please note that we have not receive reports of trojans or anything really bad like that. There’s just those weird links at the side or bottom of the page. So we’re being cautious and leaving the site until we fix it. Somehow. Anyway, like I said above, new content that would normally be on this site, will now be posted to our not-at-all-Oprah-esque summer reading club site:

READINGMOBYDICKISNOTTEHGHEY@BLOGSPOT.COM

-Shark

[The following live review was written on my blackberry during the event in question on August 9, 2008.]

The problem with going to an awesome dance if you try to make dance mixes is that you get jealous. Maybe not necessarily because these guys are better than you, but because, well, they must be because their mixes are playing to a throng of drunk kids loosing their shit on the dance floor. Indeed, the ‘Frisco Disco dudes can– how should I say?– rock a party with the hot shit. The Arrow Bar is no more. Long Live The Transfer. …

I’m too drunk remember all the songs I wanted to rem but what’s that song that goes “—– on the dance flkoor. COME ON THE DANCEFLOOR” or something like that. …

No but seriously this the best dp in the world. We sjould go after the hoof @ vtron …

Nobbut seroisly what’s that song thatv oges do you wanna FIND OUT.

King Khan and the Shrines
Jay Reatard
Bradford Cox [FN1]
The Hold Steady

That’s pretty much it. But those four: it needs to stop.

FN1: How long must I look at him with his white sunglasses on doing behind-the-scenes interviews at the Pitchfork festival with …. wait for it … King Khan! Jay Reatard! And more! Okay, but seriously, go to Pitchfork right now and check out the left side internal-plug ad featuring Bradford Cox interviewing Pitchfork bands at the Pitchfork fest. Okay, now I have nothing against the Bon Iver dude. Liked the album from last year. But check how many times that dudes shrugs in the course of answering one question. I count four.

-Shark

The Goose: “You just have to ease it in.”

Turd: (fighting the impulse. fighting the urge)***

The Goose: “You can’t just cram it in there.”

Turd: (can’t fight it) “That’s what she said.” (release)
The Goose: “……..”

***The Goose has effectively banned me from saying “that’s what she said”, even in the situations that are just begging for it. Thus, it is with great personal and professional risk that I continue to fight the good fight for all of humanity’s sake. This malevolent oppression and crackdown has forced me to go underground, and I can no longer engage the forces of Mordor in open battle. But, Triceratops Wearing a Saddle willing, I can pick and choose moments to harass the flanks and bring glory to the cause. Viva La Revolucion.