I hate that Maxwell House commercial. A lot. So much that I'm hitting the keyboard to tell others how much I hate it.
It begins with a couple at a nice restaurant and a waiter about to plunge a french press. Then douchehat walks in carrying a Mr. Coffee coffee pot and a mug. He says "is this what we're doing now?" and then berates the french press and makes a potty reference with the word plunger. Then he talks about Maxwell House French Roast coffee, makes a comment about gravity, and eats a bowl of shit.
This guy doesn't know what he's talking about. I realize it's not that guy's fault--it's a team of advertisers and marketers and probably some monkeys. But all of their idiot ideas and misconceptions are being transmitted through this douche-puppet, so I'm blaming him. The burden of perpetuating white-trash bad-coffee-drinking mentality is all on him.
No, this isn't what we're doing now. It's how we've been making coffee for years. YEARS! Since the 30s, at least. It's also how we make coffee that doesn't take like shit. Pressing the coffee extracts more of the flavor out of the bean. It creates a three-dimensional cup of java. It's so damn good.
French Roast has nothing to god-damn do with it. The roast is the roast is the roast. French roast just means it's a dark roast. It's not even a universal term across all coffee roasters. For some roasters, French is the darkest. For other roasters, it's not quite. It's a term we use that means it's probably a dark roast. With dark roasts, the flavor comes out of the roast and not as much from the bean. But it has nothing to do with how the coffee is brewed. You won't get the same brilliant flavor from a drip pot as you will from a french press, even if you use the same beans.
Gravity? You ass. A drip coffee-pot uses more than just gravity to make coffee. A lot more. There are pressure valves and heating elements and all kinds of shit involved. You know what uses gravity to make coffee? A FRENCH PRESS! Also, the pour over method, but I doubt that guy knows what that is since it took him 80 years to stumble across a french press.
The snide plunger comment is just uncalled for. It doesn't make sense. It's potty humor. The only people you're convincing to try your product are the slack-jawed two-tooth-mouthed morons who spend most of their day in the shitter anyway. You're pandering, and it's gross.
They're telling lies to sell a shitty product; that's what irks me about it. If douchehat just entered the frame and said "Maxwell House has a new French Roast. Try it please." I wouldn't be nearly as riled up. I might snicker a bit because I still think they make terrible coffee, but I understand they have to try to sell their product, so fine. But damn it, they're telling lies. You know, you could make Maxwell House in a french press. It would still taste like shit and you'd get ground in the cup because it's not ground course enough, but you could do it. They're a coffee company who don't know things about coffee. Or at least that's the impression their putting out there to pander. They're either idiots or their lying idiots.
Drink good coffee! Make it in a french press! Use gravity!
Showing posts with label Dislikes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dislikes. Show all posts
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Thursday, November 10, 2011
I Hate Rats
It might not be cool of me, but I don't care. I hate rats and am decently frightened of them. When one scurries across my path, I shriek. I shriek like a very big girl.
People say that rats are more afraid of people than the other way around. I don't buy it. I think they're pretty damn ballsy for being supposedly afraid. This morning I watched--from a safe distance--as a ratwalked scurried up and down the subway platform, where the people stand. I suppose if the platform were full of people, the rat wouldn't have been there. But I was there, and at least two other people, and the rat was just scurrying back and forth, being all ratty. I couldn't decide where to stand, because I wanted to be very far away from the rat, but it kept coming toward me. I stood really close to the edge, but then of course, I saw a few rats on the tracks and I got convinced they were heading toward me as well. I felt trapped. I held my breath and willed the train to arrive.
Yes, earlier I said I shriek when I see rats and then I just said I held my breath. Well, I wasn't going to shriek in a subway station. I'm still trying to fit in. Also, it didn't scurry across my path. It was just hanging out, being gross and ratty. So that doesn't warrant a shriek.
I also think they'll go anywhere. When I lived in Boston, I lived on a decently rat-infested street. I would pull in the driveway and get out of my car as fast as possible and run to the front door. I made a rule that the car door couldn't be open for any longer than it took for a person to get out of the car. My roommate, let's call him Wave, made fun of me for this and asked for my reasoning. I was convinced that as soon as I opened my car door, a rat would climb in the car and make it its home. Wave thought I was crazy, but my car went rat free so I think I was right.
I used to get really upset when Wave or Des (our other roommate) left the front door open too long because of the rat parade I was convinced was staging itself under the porch. And not to be too much of a girl about it, but after rats ran out of the trash can when I put new trash in, I made Des take out all my trash. Once Des left a note on the house white board--DO NOT LOOK IN THE TRASH CAN. I had to know, but I didn't look. He then informed me that since rats are dumb and it rained, there were drowned rats in the trash cans. I was officially off trash duty forever.
I know rats will never go away. I know some people keep them as pets. Those people are gross and I am not friends with them. I hate rats. I wish they were dead. I will continue to shriek at them when they scurry and hold my breath at them when they appear to be on the attack. They're gross. I hate them.
People say that rats are more afraid of people than the other way around. I don't buy it. I think they're pretty damn ballsy for being supposedly afraid. This morning I watched--from a safe distance--as a rat
Yes, earlier I said I shriek when I see rats and then I just said I held my breath. Well, I wasn't going to shriek in a subway station. I'm still trying to fit in. Also, it didn't scurry across my path. It was just hanging out, being gross and ratty. So that doesn't warrant a shriek.
I also think they'll go anywhere. When I lived in Boston, I lived on a decently rat-infested street. I would pull in the driveway and get out of my car as fast as possible and run to the front door. I made a rule that the car door couldn't be open for any longer than it took for a person to get out of the car. My roommate, let's call him Wave, made fun of me for this and asked for my reasoning. I was convinced that as soon as I opened my car door, a rat would climb in the car and make it its home. Wave thought I was crazy, but my car went rat free so I think I was right.
I used to get really upset when Wave or Des (our other roommate) left the front door open too long because of the rat parade I was convinced was staging itself under the porch. And not to be too much of a girl about it, but after rats ran out of the trash can when I put new trash in, I made Des take out all my trash. Once Des left a note on the house white board--DO NOT LOOK IN THE TRASH CAN. I had to know, but I didn't look. He then informed me that since rats are dumb and it rained, there were drowned rats in the trash cans. I was officially off trash duty forever.
I know rats will never go away. I know some people keep them as pets. Those people are gross and I am not friends with them. I hate rats. I wish they were dead. I will continue to shriek at them when they scurry and hold my breath at them when they appear to be on the attack. They're gross. I hate them.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Why I Hate This Guy, Mike
Mike doesn't listen. I met Mike back in January in improv 1A. He didn't listen then, and he doesn't listen now. "Mike, the scene is not about pirates. Don't bring up pirates." Guess what Mike still brings up?
Mike thinks the following things are funny: child abuse, hopelessness, desolation, mud huts. And I don't mean that he thought they were funny once. In the 10 months I've practiced improv with this guy, he brings at least one of these things up in every scene he does. He has never done a scene where he plays a father and does not say "I'm not too crazy about these kids" or "the middle one, not so much." It's maddening.
He seems to not understand reality. During an exercise in class, he was asked to give three situations that he and his scene partner could be in. They were a student and a teacher, which was already pushing some boundaries in the world of improv (teaching scenes are frowned upon). Mike first suggested an incredibly elaborate scheme in which he had one final hope of raising standardized test scores by using the only smart student in his class. He next proposed that the student was in fact a student-teacher, and Mike was his mentor. His final suggestion was that he was teaching the Force, but Brian was using it for all the wrong reasons. I shook my head for three solid minutes. He was told to go with the student-teacher scenario, presumably because it was only one that wasn't completely fucking bonkers. And in true Mike fashion, he began with a rant about how everyone was stupid and terrible and there was no hope to be had. His scene partner looked lost; the rest of us were bored.
He wears toe-shoes. He wears them all of the time. I've heard him explain how he has his "dressy" toe-shoes, and his casual toe-shoes. It takes all my energy to not punch him in his stupid smug face.
He does this thing. He doesn't watch TV. He reads a lot of books. And then he liked to tell all of us about how he doesn't watch TV or stay in touch with current cultural phenomena because he prefers books. And then he also continues to explain how he's an outsider, desperately trying to fit in. He started a scene endowing his scene partner as Ramses. Apparently Mike was playing a slave who was building the Sphinx. Not only did no one understand what the hell he was doing, no one cared. At the end of the scene, when we tore it apart, he was indignant about it. How could we not understand what he was trying to do? Well, because it's improv, not fucking history class. You walked on stage and said "Oh boy Ramses, I think this is the best nose I've ever done." Sure, we're the idiots. Fuck you, Mike. Also, nobody says "oh boy!" Stop doing it.
The sound of his voice is grading. His face looks stupid. He breathes through his mouth. At this point, there is nothing this guy could do that would alter my opinion of him. He could put all that book reading to use and find the cure for AIDS, but I'd still push him down the stairs while screaming "who's gonna aid you now, ass?" He's had so many chances, I now don't believe he can ever do anything right. Also, I think other people need to start calling him out on all his bullshit.
He negates offers. This is a big no-no in improv. And I suspect he doesn't always realize he's doing it, because again, he's not paying attention, he's not listening, and he doesn't have a firm grasp on reality. He makes side comments in scenes that he thinks are funny. Not only are they not funny, but they break the reality of the scene and completely ruin it. He'll break character to make a crack about a mud hut. Need I say it again? NOBODY CARES ABOUT MUD HUTS! He leaves his scene partner bewildered at every turn. I started a scene with him once where I was clearly carrying an umbrella and I stated "this rain ruins my picnic." He said something like "nobody was going to come anyway" in his stupid voice and did not acknowledge the rain. The teacher called a time out and asked him what he thought I had in my hand. He said "I don't, maybe a hanky or something. I ignored it." We know you ignored it. Because you're an ass.
Those are just a few of the reasons I hate this guy, Mike. If there were a giant hole that led directly to the center of the earth, I would push him in. Then I'd spit in it and hopefully my loogie would hit him in the face just before he melted in the earth's core.
Mike thinks the following things are funny: child abuse, hopelessness, desolation, mud huts. And I don't mean that he thought they were funny once. In the 10 months I've practiced improv with this guy, he brings at least one of these things up in every scene he does. He has never done a scene where he plays a father and does not say "I'm not too crazy about these kids" or "the middle one, not so much." It's maddening.
He seems to not understand reality. During an exercise in class, he was asked to give three situations that he and his scene partner could be in. They were a student and a teacher, which was already pushing some boundaries in the world of improv (teaching scenes are frowned upon). Mike first suggested an incredibly elaborate scheme in which he had one final hope of raising standardized test scores by using the only smart student in his class. He next proposed that the student was in fact a student-teacher, and Mike was his mentor. His final suggestion was that he was teaching the Force, but Brian was using it for all the wrong reasons. I shook my head for three solid minutes. He was told to go with the student-teacher scenario, presumably because it was only one that wasn't completely fucking bonkers. And in true Mike fashion, he began with a rant about how everyone was stupid and terrible and there was no hope to be had. His scene partner looked lost; the rest of us were bored.
He wears toe-shoes. He wears them all of the time. I've heard him explain how he has his "dressy" toe-shoes, and his casual toe-shoes. It takes all my energy to not punch him in his stupid smug face.
He does this thing. He doesn't watch TV. He reads a lot of books. And then he liked to tell all of us about how he doesn't watch TV or stay in touch with current cultural phenomena because he prefers books. And then he also continues to explain how he's an outsider, desperately trying to fit in. He started a scene endowing his scene partner as Ramses. Apparently Mike was playing a slave who was building the Sphinx. Not only did no one understand what the hell he was doing, no one cared. At the end of the scene, when we tore it apart, he was indignant about it. How could we not understand what he was trying to do? Well, because it's improv, not fucking history class. You walked on stage and said "Oh boy Ramses, I think this is the best nose I've ever done." Sure, we're the idiots. Fuck you, Mike. Also, nobody says "oh boy!" Stop doing it.
The sound of his voice is grading. His face looks stupid. He breathes through his mouth. At this point, there is nothing this guy could do that would alter my opinion of him. He could put all that book reading to use and find the cure for AIDS, but I'd still push him down the stairs while screaming "who's gonna aid you now, ass?" He's had so many chances, I now don't believe he can ever do anything right. Also, I think other people need to start calling him out on all his bullshit.
He negates offers. This is a big no-no in improv. And I suspect he doesn't always realize he's doing it, because again, he's not paying attention, he's not listening, and he doesn't have a firm grasp on reality. He makes side comments in scenes that he thinks are funny. Not only are they not funny, but they break the reality of the scene and completely ruin it. He'll break character to make a crack about a mud hut. Need I say it again? NOBODY CARES ABOUT MUD HUTS! He leaves his scene partner bewildered at every turn. I started a scene with him once where I was clearly carrying an umbrella and I stated "this rain ruins my picnic." He said something like "nobody was going to come anyway" in his stupid voice and did not acknowledge the rain. The teacher called a time out and asked him what he thought I had in my hand. He said "I don't, maybe a hanky or something. I ignored it." We know you ignored it. Because you're an ass.
Those are just a few of the reasons I hate this guy, Mike. If there were a giant hole that led directly to the center of the earth, I would push him in. Then I'd spit in it and hopefully my loogie would hit him in the face just before he melted in the earth's core.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Combining Things Doesn't Always Make Them Better
I like science. I like fiction. I do not like science-fiction. The one exception to this is my obsession with The X-Files. I adored that show, but I think I was more interested in the characters than the aliens. I liked the battle between science and not-science. The paranormal and metaphysical could hold my interest because they were grounded in a reality I was familiar with.
I've never been big on Sci-fi or fantasy. Apparently, most people are. Someone recently recommended a book to me and enthusiastically said "It's like Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, and Narnia combined."
"I do not enjoy any of those things."
"Oh. Then you might not enjoy this." Then it became as though I was not in the room as everyone else gushed over how ah-mah-zing it is.
I ended up in another conversation about sci-fi last night. I had to sit silently trying to figure out what anyone was talking about. Again, I like science, and I like fiction, but I've never cared much for science-fiction. And that tends to (far) extend into Fantasy as well.
There are exceptions. I've seen a decent number of sci-fi or fantasy films, especially those considered important in the realm of pop-culture. I've seen The X-files films a few times each. I've read and watched Jurassic Park. One of my favorite movies is Donnie Darko, though I would venture into an argument that it's not really science-fiction. I saw Sunshine, which I actually quite enjoyed- I credit Danny Boyle for that. I enjoyed The Matrix a lot and watched it several times. I didn't watch E.T. all the way through until I was much older, but it was fine. And I did enjoy the most recent Star Trek.
And as I started listing these films, another facet of my indignity towards science-fiction culture surfaced. I am expected to like science-fiction because I like science. People are appalled when I tell them I don't like Star Wars. But I don't like it. I'd be very happy if I never had to see it again. This might have something to do with watching it every damn Christmas for 14 years. Even so, I'm pretty effing over it.
It's a whole lump of geek / nerd culture that actually really bothers me. Like science? Then you are a nerd and must therefore like all of these things that are labeled for nerds. But I do not like all of these things. I enjoy very few of them, in fact. Well, that might not be entirely true, but apparently fewer than most. And admittedly, I'm lumping Fantasy into the Sci-fi category, which may be unfair.
My simple point was that combining two things I enjoy does not mean I will enjoy that one thing twice as much. Similarly to that Full House episode where Michelle is trying to earn her cooking badge and she makes chocolate pudding with cheese in it. It was gross. Michelle was a moron. Combining things doesn't always make them better.
I've never been big on Sci-fi or fantasy. Apparently, most people are. Someone recently recommended a book to me and enthusiastically said "It's like Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, and Narnia combined."
"I do not enjoy any of those things."
"Oh. Then you might not enjoy this." Then it became as though I was not in the room as everyone else gushed over how ah-mah-zing it is.
I ended up in another conversation about sci-fi last night. I had to sit silently trying to figure out what anyone was talking about. Again, I like science, and I like fiction, but I've never cared much for science-fiction. And that tends to (far) extend into Fantasy as well.
There are exceptions. I've seen a decent number of sci-fi or fantasy films, especially those considered important in the realm of pop-culture. I've seen The X-files films a few times each. I've read and watched Jurassic Park. One of my favorite movies is Donnie Darko, though I would venture into an argument that it's not really science-fiction. I saw Sunshine, which I actually quite enjoyed- I credit Danny Boyle for that. I enjoyed The Matrix a lot and watched it several times. I didn't watch E.T. all the way through until I was much older, but it was fine. And I did enjoy the most recent Star Trek.
And as I started listing these films, another facet of my indignity towards science-fiction culture surfaced. I am expected to like science-fiction because I like science. People are appalled when I tell them I don't like Star Wars. But I don't like it. I'd be very happy if I never had to see it again. This might have something to do with watching it every damn Christmas for 14 years. Even so, I'm pretty effing over it.
It's a whole lump of geek / nerd culture that actually really bothers me. Like science? Then you are a nerd and must therefore like all of these things that are labeled for nerds. But I do not like all of these things. I enjoy very few of them, in fact. Well, that might not be entirely true, but apparently fewer than most. And admittedly, I'm lumping Fantasy into the Sci-fi category, which may be unfair.
My simple point was that combining two things I enjoy does not mean I will enjoy that one thing twice as much. Similarly to that Full House episode where Michelle is trying to earn her cooking badge and she makes chocolate pudding with cheese in it. It was gross. Michelle was a moron. Combining things doesn't always make them better.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Buyer's Remorse
The thing I most often get buyer's remorse over is food. It's also a ridiculous thing to get buyer's remorse over because I'm going to be able to do it all again about four to five hours later. I'm not good at ordering food- I am the opposite of Sally. I spend an inordinate amount of time agonizing over what to get and then when my plate arrives, I'll regret it. I see what someone else has ordered and think I should have gotten that. Why didn't I just get that? Waaaaa.
This happens a lot when trying new things. I try to be adventurous, to branch out, but then I end up branching out a little too far and being envious of the chap next to me with the cheese covered burrito. A wedge salad? Really? I guess I can say I've done it, that's something.
Sometimes I stick with my old standby because I'm confident I'll like it and I'll still end up regretting it. Someone near me will have gotten the special and I'll immediately feel the pangs of regret. Oh the specials. They're special, so I should get them, just because they're special.
Friends have pointed this out to me and I think it annoys them. Like clockwork when our food is put in front of us I'll stare at their plate and say "Mmm. I should have ordered that." Every time. Now I even do it when we order the same thing to keep the joke *fresh* and *original*.
I've even done it at the grocery store. I'll get home and put my food in the cupboard and just be disappointed in my choices. Why did I buy sugar free oatmeal? I regret this decision, but now I'm stuck with it. Such a large ticket item and I'm stuck with it, at least until the next time I go to the store which will probably be tomorrow because I stand to eat sugar free oatmeal. It's gross.
This happens a lot when trying new things. I try to be adventurous, to branch out, but then I end up branching out a little too far and being envious of the chap next to me with the cheese covered burrito. A wedge salad? Really? I guess I can say I've done it, that's something.
Sometimes I stick with my old standby because I'm confident I'll like it and I'll still end up regretting it. Someone near me will have gotten the special and I'll immediately feel the pangs of regret. Oh the specials. They're special, so I should get them, just because they're special.
Friends have pointed this out to me and I think it annoys them. Like clockwork when our food is put in front of us I'll stare at their plate and say "Mmm. I should have ordered that." Every time. Now I even do it when we order the same thing to keep the joke *fresh* and *original*.
I've even done it at the grocery store. I'll get home and put my food in the cupboard and just be disappointed in my choices. Why did I buy sugar free oatmeal? I regret this decision, but now I'm stuck with it. Such a large ticket item and I'm stuck with it, at least until the next time I go to the store which will probably be tomorrow because I stand to eat sugar free oatmeal. It's gross.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
World's Thinnest Argument
I don't watch the Grammy's because I think it's a ridiculous awards show. I used to watch, when I was a kid, and I thought the Grammy's meant something like the Oscars did. I understood that the Oscars were giving awards to films that were a cut above the rest, and I thought that's what the Grammy's were doing too. And then I started paying attention. I was broadening my musical tastes, letting more diverse sounds into my repertoire, and really appreciating all that the music industry had to offer.
As more alt bands started to fill my shelves and iPod, the more disconnected I became from the Grammy's. I remember watching a Grammy's in the mid-nineties when country was all the rage. I had a few country albums, and I knew the nominees. That year's Grammy's were a repeat of that years Country Music Awards and/or American Country Awards or the American Music Awards- they have a lot of awards shows. Then Eminem got really popular and the Grammy's were a showcase for thugs and a few left over country acts. I remember the last Grammy awards I watched- I made a vow after it was over to never watch it again.
It was clear the award was just about that very moment. It was the equivalent of calling my mom's meatloaf the best meat-based loaf of that evenings dinner. It was nice to hear, but it didn't mean anything in the long run. I resented the Grammy's for not recognizing the artists I listened to. And even though Lucinda Williams did win a few Grammy's, it wasn't on the televised portion, because apparently nobody wants to see that. I used to think she should get all the Grammy's, maybe share a few with Ryan Adams, and give a couple to Death Cab for Cutie. Then I realized they were too good for the Grammy's. Best meat-based loaf of the evening was not good enough for these awesome musicians.
The one bit that made me regret not tuning in this year was the Bob Dylan/Mumford&Sons/Avett Brothers performance. I would have loved to see that- I really enjoy all three of those. I attempted to watch a highlight reel from one of those vapid Hollywood shows, but they didn't even mention it. They spent several minutes talking about Justin Beiber, but had no time for Bob fucking Dylan. Which brings me to the title of the post.
Just because you've never heard of something doesn't mean it's not a valid thing. It is, in fact, the world's thinnest argument. "Are they any good?" "Well, I've never heard of them." Ah yes, well then. This argument used to happen a lot in my TV Comedy class also, where I had at least 5 - 7 years on every student, and any reference made to the 80's garnered a "Well, I've never heard of them, so they must not be culturally significant."
I first fell in love with Arcade Fire the summer of 2007. I thought I was behind because I had to catch up with their second album. It was fantastic- mind blowing actually. They are the band that I go too when I'm not quite thinking clearly, and my creative juices aren't flowing properly. I put on a little Neon Bible or Funeral really loud, and slam my feet on the ground to the beat, and somehow I am enlightened. The release of The Suburbs was a great day for me. I had it on my calendar- I listened over and over and went to see them live two weekends later. I couldn't tell enough people about it. In my world, they were huge, and everyone knew who these guys were.
My disdain for the Grammy's started to soften when I heard 1. about that Dylan/Mumford&Sons/Avett Brothers thing, and 2. when Arcade Fire won for Album of the Year. It seemed as thought they finally got something right. And then the backlash.
I shouldn't care about the backlash because I'm a grown-ass woman and others opinions don't mean that much to me. And it's true, they don't, but I care in a completely different way. I care because it makes me weep a bit for society. The general sentiment was that most people hadn't heard of Arcade Fire and that other artists, like Eminem and Lady Gaga had been robbed. The outrage very much stated "how could these guys win? I've never heard of them." It's the one thing I think he Grammy's have gotten right in the past 15 years, and it's the bit so many people are outraged by.
I barely have a point here. I wonder if winning the Grammy will actually hurt Arcade Fire, because they were awesome to people like me who generally turn a blind eye to anything the Grammy's award. The idiots who drool over the Lady Gagas and Rhiannas at the Grammy's are not the same people who validate Arcade Fire as quality music. If anything, it speaks to Arcade Fire's integrity and just-damn-goodness that you haven't heard of them. So please, tell me what else you haven't heard of it so I can put it at the top of my list.
You're vapid, and I hate you. Arcade Fire rules.
As more alt bands started to fill my shelves and iPod, the more disconnected I became from the Grammy's. I remember watching a Grammy's in the mid-nineties when country was all the rage. I had a few country albums, and I knew the nominees. That year's Grammy's were a repeat of that years Country Music Awards and/or American Country Awards or the American Music Awards- they have a lot of awards shows. Then Eminem got really popular and the Grammy's were a showcase for thugs and a few left over country acts. I remember the last Grammy awards I watched- I made a vow after it was over to never watch it again.
It was clear the award was just about that very moment. It was the equivalent of calling my mom's meatloaf the best meat-based loaf of that evenings dinner. It was nice to hear, but it didn't mean anything in the long run. I resented the Grammy's for not recognizing the artists I listened to. And even though Lucinda Williams did win a few Grammy's, it wasn't on the televised portion, because apparently nobody wants to see that. I used to think she should get all the Grammy's, maybe share a few with Ryan Adams, and give a couple to Death Cab for Cutie. Then I realized they were too good for the Grammy's. Best meat-based loaf of the evening was not good enough for these awesome musicians.
The one bit that made me regret not tuning in this year was the Bob Dylan/Mumford&Sons/Avett Brothers performance. I would have loved to see that- I really enjoy all three of those. I attempted to watch a highlight reel from one of those vapid Hollywood shows, but they didn't even mention it. They spent several minutes talking about Justin Beiber, but had no time for Bob fucking Dylan. Which brings me to the title of the post.
Just because you've never heard of something doesn't mean it's not a valid thing. It is, in fact, the world's thinnest argument. "Are they any good?" "Well, I've never heard of them." Ah yes, well then. This argument used to happen a lot in my TV Comedy class also, where I had at least 5 - 7 years on every student, and any reference made to the 80's garnered a "Well, I've never heard of them, so they must not be culturally significant."
I first fell in love with Arcade Fire the summer of 2007. I thought I was behind because I had to catch up with their second album. It was fantastic- mind blowing actually. They are the band that I go too when I'm not quite thinking clearly, and my creative juices aren't flowing properly. I put on a little Neon Bible or Funeral really loud, and slam my feet on the ground to the beat, and somehow I am enlightened. The release of The Suburbs was a great day for me. I had it on my calendar- I listened over and over and went to see them live two weekends later. I couldn't tell enough people about it. In my world, they were huge, and everyone knew who these guys were.
My disdain for the Grammy's started to soften when I heard 1. about that Dylan/Mumford&Sons/Avett Brothers thing, and 2. when Arcade Fire won for Album of the Year. It seemed as thought they finally got something right. And then the backlash.
I shouldn't care about the backlash because I'm a grown-ass woman and others opinions don't mean that much to me. And it's true, they don't, but I care in a completely different way. I care because it makes me weep a bit for society. The general sentiment was that most people hadn't heard of Arcade Fire and that other artists, like Eminem and Lady Gaga had been robbed. The outrage very much stated "how could these guys win? I've never heard of them." It's the one thing I think he Grammy's have gotten right in the past 15 years, and it's the bit so many people are outraged by.
I barely have a point here. I wonder if winning the Grammy will actually hurt Arcade Fire, because they were awesome to people like me who generally turn a blind eye to anything the Grammy's award. The idiots who drool over the Lady Gagas and Rhiannas at the Grammy's are not the same people who validate Arcade Fire as quality music. If anything, it speaks to Arcade Fire's integrity and just-damn-goodness that you haven't heard of them. So please, tell me what else you haven't heard of it so I can put it at the top of my list.
You're vapid, and I hate you. Arcade Fire rules.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Public Transportation
When the Metro stops, the automated lady voice says "Stand back, to allow customers to exit. When boarding, please move to the center of the car." However, from the way people behave, you'd think she yelled "GO! GO! GO! MOVE IT! MOVE IT! THERE'S NO TIME!"
Riding the Metro is exhausting and exasperating. So much so, I don't really have much more to say about it. I would like to listen to sweet Christmas music, and maybe some Temper Trap.
Riding the Metro is exhausting and exasperating. So much so, I don't really have much more to say about it. I would like to listen to sweet Christmas music, and maybe some Temper Trap.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Difference of Opinion: A List.
As I mentioned yesterday, there are a decent number of things most people like that I do not. I thought we were all entitled to our opinions, however, these dislikes generally cause others to call me names. A short list:
Parades. There's too much ado for not a lot to do. I don't get it. I don't like being in them and I don't like watching them.
Zoos. I'm not overly enthusiastic about wild animals, and then there's all the families.
Pesto. It's apparently the condiment to end all condiments. I also don't like condiments very much, or basil.
Everything Bagels. There's just too much going on.
Honey. First, it's a condiment, so it's already not making a good impression. Then it's sticky and I just don't like the flavor.
This list could get pretty food dominated pretty fast, so I'll stop at those three.
Carnivals. Too many people and all the rides go in circles. I vomit.
Strawberry Picking. Also apple picking. I don't really like any kind of fruit or vegetable picking, but these two come up frequently as fun quaint activities. I disagree on both those counts.
Summer. It's the worst of the four seasons. People always want to go to the beach (see below). And there is a lot of pressure to wear shorts in public, and I don't do that.
The Beach. I don't like the sand, the people, the sun, or the water. I don't care for the saltiness- and even on fresh-water beaches, I can't over-come the initial ickyness of walking in the water before it gets too deep, plus those are usually really cold, and pretty rocky. I've been to many beaches, because other people like to go there. I prefer my swimming to take place in a pool, and I prefer my lounging to take place indoors, with a TV in front of me. This is the one that most people give up on me for.
The list could go on, but I said it would be a short list. And I can usually find a supporter or two for my other dislikes. Those are just the things that cause me to spend large chunks of my days alone. And sad. But not as sad as I'd be if I were watching a parade in a beach-side zoo while eating an everything bagel with a pesto and honey schmear in the middle of summer just before an afternoon of strawberry picking and carnival rides. That's the sort of thing that could drive me insane, like Meg Ryan's character at the George V in French Kiss. Yes, I would carry around a bell and bang on it. Oddly enough, I don't dislike bells.
Parades. There's too much ado for not a lot to do. I don't get it. I don't like being in them and I don't like watching them.
Zoos. I'm not overly enthusiastic about wild animals, and then there's all the families.
Pesto. It's apparently the condiment to end all condiments. I also don't like condiments very much, or basil.
Everything Bagels. There's just too much going on.
Honey. First, it's a condiment, so it's already not making a good impression. Then it's sticky and I just don't like the flavor.
This list could get pretty food dominated pretty fast, so I'll stop at those three.
Carnivals. Too many people and all the rides go in circles. I vomit.
Strawberry Picking. Also apple picking. I don't really like any kind of fruit or vegetable picking, but these two come up frequently as fun quaint activities. I disagree on both those counts.
Summer. It's the worst of the four seasons. People always want to go to the beach (see below). And there is a lot of pressure to wear shorts in public, and I don't do that.
The Beach. I don't like the sand, the people, the sun, or the water. I don't care for the saltiness- and even on fresh-water beaches, I can't over-come the initial ickyness of walking in the water before it gets too deep, plus those are usually really cold, and pretty rocky. I've been to many beaches, because other people like to go there. I prefer my swimming to take place in a pool, and I prefer my lounging to take place indoors, with a TV in front of me. This is the one that most people give up on me for.
The list could go on, but I said it would be a short list. And I can usually find a supporter or two for my other dislikes. Those are just the things that cause me to spend large chunks of my days alone. And sad. But not as sad as I'd be if I were watching a parade in a beach-side zoo while eating an everything bagel with a pesto and honey schmear in the middle of summer just before an afternoon of strawberry picking and carnival rides. That's the sort of thing that could drive me insane, like Meg Ryan's character at the George V in French Kiss. Yes, I would carry around a bell and bang on it. Oddly enough, I don't dislike bells.
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