Which allowed me to fully assess the breadth of great novelty songs in the English language. So, in doing so, here's the list:
1. Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah by Allan Sherman This song is number one in order to serve as a representative of the entire Sherman oeuvre. If you don't know it, you're totally missing out! Check out: "One Hippopotomi" "Good Advice"
2. White and Nerdy by Wierd Al Yankovic "I edit Wikipedia I memorize the Holy Grail real well"
OK, if you haven't seen this video, you haven't lived. Again, this is about the entire catalog of Wierd Al songs....You might also enjoy:
"King of Suede"--one thing that I love about this is that he doesn't mess with the melody at all and i LOVE this song by the Police. The lyrics by both performers, regrettably, are irrelevant.
3. Transfusion by Nervous Norvus This one's awesome. It's all about driving like a lunatic and needing a blood exchange to survive each episode. And the best part, "slip the crimson to me Jimson", "slip the juice to me Bruce", slip the blood to me Bud". It's HI-larious.
4. Valley Girl by Frank and Moon Unit Zappa I vividly recall driving through the mean streets of suburban Fairfax, Va, BEGGING my mom to NOT change the station when this song came on the radio. We three Brady Girls loved this song like it defined our character.
This song provoked the eponymous movie, which is easily in my top 5 movies (that no one but me likes) ever made
5. The Homecoming Queens Got a Gun by Julie Brown "My best friend's on a shooting spree, Stop it, Debi, you're embarrassing me!"
Also really good by Julie Brown: "Cause I'm a Blond": "I see people work, it just makes me giggle Cause I don't have to work, I just have to jiggle"
6. See the Light/Feel the Heat (The Reagan Rap) by Airforce 1 What? You don't remember this classic 80's send up of the Reagan Administration? You don't remember "Push push into George Bush, Tip O' Tip O' Neil"...Loser.
The local "listen-at-work" rock station has a remarkable knack for digging up--or, more aptly, scraping the barrel for--old top 40 hits. This morning I heard one that, despite the fact that I'm familiar with it, really puzzled me. Then, this afternoon, I was treated to another song that really begs the question, "What the frack was going on in the 70s?"
But I listen to this station because it inspires me to think long and hard about what constitutes "good" music. Let me share with you some of my preliminary findings:
Huey Lewis and the News is notgood music.
Anyway, I got to thinking that there are a number of songs out there that tread dangerously close to novelty performances. Here is my short list of songs that are, to put it diplomatically, real head-scratchers.
(click on the titles to be transported to hear the songs at YouTube)
1. Rock and Roll Heaven by the Righteous Brothers "If you believe in forever then life is just a one night stand If there's a rock and roll heaven well you know they've got a hell of a band."
This song is typical Righteous Brothers in that it is goes for the gut. I'm a sucker for "Soul and Inspiration". I swoon a little over "Unchained Melody". And God knows "You've Lost that Lovin' Feelin'" is still drivin the girls wild in every Naval Air Station from Pensacola to Guam. But these guys really out-do themselves with "Rock and Roll Heaven". There are only 6 references to dead performers in this song, but the lyrics are lousy with further references to those "fallen heroes" of rock and roll music. I suppose one might feel really self-satisfied by one's ability to "get" all of the references, but they really aren't that hard. And, to make matters worse, the melody is lame.
2. MacArthur Park by Richard Harris "Someone left the cake out in the rain Oh I don't think I can take it 'cause it took so long to bake it And I'll never have that recipe again! Oh No!"
Treat yourself to 7 minutes and 25 seconds of epic harmonic inanity. This song is ponderous to the extreme. It has everthing you really don't need in a pop song: harpsichord, references to "love's hot, fevered iron like a striped pair of pants", and that nagging sense that sometimes a cake really isn't just a cake. Why in the name of all that is culturally relevant did this song ever get airtime? Here is a take on this song that really does it justice:
Next.
3. Midnight at the Oasis by Maria Muldaur "I'll be your belly-dancer, prancer And you can be my shiek"
I'm more than a little amused by the comments for this video on YouTube. For those of you who agree with Bogframe that this is "one of the sexiest songs of our time", let me just say, "I'm sorry you feel that way." I can't figure out why this song was and continues to be popular. Muldaur's voice is interesting, I suppose, but it's not great. I'm not saying I hate this song, I just guess I can go a pretty long time before I think, "wow, turn it up!"
Now, if I were to challenge you to come up with another song that is anything like this one, you could go in two directions:
a.) Arabian themed ("Rock the Casbah" by the Clash; "Ahab the Arab" by Ray Stevens) b.) High pitched female vocals ("Carrie" by Joanie Mitchell; "Brand New Key" by Melanie)
If you were to take the a-train, as it were, you would be forced to address why Arabian themed lyrics are so wacky ("the muezzin were standing on the radiator grill"). Further, you would have to admit that these lyrics can go 'orribly, 'orribly wrong when done by redneck 'humorists' ("rings on her fingers and bells on her toes and a bone in her nose aha!"). If you were to go with option b, you'd get props for appreciating Joanie's work, but you'd also force us both to ruminate on why the 70s gave women with shrill voices the green-light to write really inane songs ("oh I got a brand new pair of roller skates, you've got a brand new key"). In fact, that last one should be on this list, too.
4. "Muskrat Love" by Captain and Tenille "Muskrat Suzie, Muskrat Sam Do the jitterbug at a Muskrat Land And they shimmy, Sam is so skinny"
I'm not going to go any farther than this. This song has done enough to explain itself.
Yesterday I paid a visit to my Senator's office, which was easy enough. I only had "trouble" at security in that I had to use my dad's business card to "bribe" the guards into letting me leave my purse with them. They were very nice about everything, they just didn't feel too comfortable with keeping my belongings. That was until I demonstrated my appreciation of what they do. (All of this because you are forbidden to bring cell phones into the building and I had nowhere to store mine but in my bag; I walked to the courthouse and could not put it in the car).
Once past security, I went up to the second floor to find a door boldly marked "UNITED STATES SENATOR" complete with the federal seal. Nice! The door was open, I walked in, and spoke with a young woman who seemed to manning the fort all by her lonesome. I gave her my message, which she kindly listened to and promised to relay to Washington. Done and done.
It's that easy. It's probably better that you have something in writing that can be "relayed to Washington" because the odds of your meeting up with your senator are pretty slim. And, for those of you who can't use your daddy's name to get past security (at least in a way that will actually appeal to the security guards), you should probably leave your cell phone, concealed firearm and explosives in your car. But otherwise, don't let the idea of visiting your senator scare you. There's nothing to it.
Oh, and I think that the Federal Judge entered the building while I was working out my little arrangement with security, because the guard asked me to wait, allowed him/her (there were two men and a woman in the entourage) to walk through without delay and even rushed over to push the elevator button for them. Does that count as a celebrity sighting?
That's what I got last night and I feel like a million bucks! It's almost 10 am now and I'm still checking email and drinking coffee, because I just woke up 50 minutes ago. Man!
On the docket for today? Taking MoveOn.org's advise and marching up to my senator's local office for a word on federal health insurance. Normally I wouldn't bother, but I'm more than a little curious about what goes down in the federal court house, which is where he keeps his office. I know he's not there because, in all likelihood he actually lives in McLean, Virginia or Bethesda, Maryland. Still, it's worth a shot. Besides, my dad is one of the federal guards at the courthouse back home and seeing their uniforms makes me feel closer to him.
P.S. The license plate frame is only 14.99! (I KNOW!)
I've had the name Jomo Kenyatta stuck in my head for a few days now--I've been reading Caroline Elkin's Imperial Reckoning--and I've decided I really like to say it. Jomo Kenyatta. Give it a try. It's a good name. But then I've noticed that many African names are that way. Once you figure out the pronunciation, so many of them just sing: Kwame Nkrumah, Hugh Masekela, Ngugi wa Thiong'o. And who can forget Mosima "Tokyo" Sexwale?
But Africans do not have a monopoly on great names. Here are some other fantastic names worth singing:
So, as the days get warmer, I have started reaching into my summer wardrobe and wearing clothes that tend to expose more flesh (easy...I'm talking ankles and elbow, here. I'm not a hussy). As I shed all of my woolens and denim, I've come to notice something strange...my profile is not slimming down as I peel away the layers. Instead, I'm discovering that my pear shape has become even peary-er, and that I'm back to the weight I was three years ago before a winter of e-dieting.
I'll go out and start walking more briskly, I'll eat more salad, and within a few months, I'll have lost about 5-8 lbs. This will be all I need to feel right again. I'll still be a few lbs. heavier than I was this time last year, but my clothes will still fit, so what's the big deal? My memory of my 25 year old body has long since faded, and I don't mind what I've got now. I just wish I had a little less.
So if you see me jogging around the park, looking like I'm going to die from exhaustion, don't mind me. I've got a motor in the back of my Honda; I'll be alright.
You know what really chaps my hide? Talking points essays passed off as original editorial work. It's galling on a national level, but makes some sense when one considers that the leaders of the right wing are essentially news personalities (i.e., Hannity, Limbaugh, Savage, Beck...). But when it trickles down to the student newspaper, it is irritating as all get out. Since when does the 20 year old frat boy know his ass from a hole in the ground, let alone the official party line on the Department of Homeland Security's report on Right Wing Extremism? (That's an unfair characterization, I'll admit. Some frat boys DO in fact know their ass from a hole in the ground.)
Last week, one of the student newspaper editorialists wrote the following: "It shouldn’t take longer than a moment to realize what a joke this document is in actuality. I could never have imagined that, on April 6, I went to bed an average American and woke up a right-wing extremist. I proudly admit that I am extremely conservative. I didn’t know this caused me to pose a serious threat to my beloved country." This line is part of the manufactured indignation floated by the right wing in response to the DHS's publication of its reports on potentially violent political extremism in the USA. These reports examined BOTH left and right wing extremism and reminded its readers that enemies of the state are not only sleeper cells of Al Quaida, but also American Neo-Nazi separatists and radical anti-globalization activists. But you wouldn't know the breadth of these reports from the way Hannity, et al. reported on them. Instead, one would get the impression that the Obama Administration, so freaked out by the "success" of the Tea Party Movement, has recast American Patriots as "extremists."
This student writer, clearly invested in the maintenance of a conservative world view, is hardly engaging his readers in original debate. He is instead taking talking points and drafting a pathetically bald re-iteration of the illogical rhetoric of the political right. He claims to have read the DHS's report, and he even encourages us to do the same. But does he place it in its proper context? Does he allow that the Teabaggers were not alone last Wednesday when they stepped out to protest deficit spending? Does he address the fact that white supremacists and anti-government militias co-opted the protests to legitimize their own shockingly anti-American views? No. He does not. In fact, he offers nothing new to the debate.
As the right marginalizes itslef further, one hopes that the more moderate conservatives out there will begin talking to their intellectual peers, irrespective of political ideology, and engage in non-talking point driven discussions about the future of America. I'm totally up for it, because I'm never comfortable being on the side of the Man. But it doesn't take the memory of an elephant to doubt the righteousness of right wing claims to victimhood.
We are one week away from the last day of the semester! Here are a list of things I'll be doing as soon as its all over:
1.) sitting around reading novels (recommendations welcome). 2.) sitting around watching netflixed tv shows (recommendations welcome). 3.) mental gardening (i.e., imagining how I'd develop a garden if I were willing to get up from the couch) 4.) daydreaming 5.) research
I learned something interesting about myself last May. Fresh off the dissertation triathlon (writing, defending, revising) I decided to commit myself to total relaxation and non-academic pursuits. I figured I'd grow tired of sloth after a few weeks, but whadya know? I managed to go the whole distance from May to late June when I had to start teaching summer school. In that time I did not once open an academic book, nor did I worry myself with new research. I just let it all go and enjoyed the rest immensely. I consider this sort of casual indifference to research and writing a gift. Is it any wonder that I've found the silver lining to my non-tenured future?
Just last week I heard from the man himself and discovered that Lady Cooley will be giving birth within the next two weeks. Too bad I had no idea she has been pregnant for nigh on eight months. Anyway, in celebration of the impending birth of the next great Cooley, I give you:
Sorry folks, I've fallen behind. I've been busy enjoying Spring and trying to catch up with the fun stuff in life. School is demanding most of my time: This week I've got two books to read; 30 papers to grade; two lectures to write and an exam to develop. But before I get slammed, let me take this morning to tell you about:
India Night Every year the Indian students at the local uni put togther a cultural extravaganza that includes dancing, singing, Bollywood themed "skits" and food. Word on the street was that this is a can't miss event: over the top, delightful, bright, shiny, loud, funny, cheesy and sweet. So you can imagine my excitement when I bought tickets last week! Anyway, I managed to shanghai my husband into going, luring him in with the promise of free curry afterwards. Besides, he actually knew many of the students involved and many of his colleagues were going, too. So we went.
The show was funny at first, not deliberately, but nevertheless. I got the giggles early on and couldn't stop for a while. But the intermission gave me a chance to steel myself, and I couldn't find much fun in it from that point on. In all honesty, the event was lame. While the dancing was initially exciting, it got boring by the fifth act. The students from away (state u., capital city private, and big city regional) did a nice job representing and we appreciated their efforts. But the local kids just couldn't be bothered. The MCs were pathetically under-rehearsed and pathetically American in their casual indifference to energizing the crowd. Our neighbor, a regular to India night, told us that the students usually sat at the back of the concert hall to serve as cheerleaders, but they seemed pretty unimpressed throughout.
Afterwards, we wandered over to another part of campus for dinner. It was a nice evening, but rain was expected. We stood in line for about 1/2 hour before the rain came, and when it did, those barely bound by the rules of polite society emancipated themselves and rushed the line. It was ridiculous; organization completely broke down. Frustrations turned to resistance and before we knew it, we were involved in a very uncomfortable exchange of words with an arogant son of a... Anyway, it was no fun. To top it all off, we had to run about 1/4 of a mile in the driving rain back to our car.
Final grade for India night: Fail.
But, something possie has come from all of this. In searching for a suitable image to dress up this post I found these: Yes, Bollywood action figures! I intend to spend the summer watching the great catalogue of Indian movies available at the uni library. By the end of the summer, I'm pretty sure I'll want...neh, NEED one of these. How delightful!
Recently I got back in touch with a girl I knew from high school who, as I recall, was always a very nice person. My family moved from a major metropolitan area to the redneck riviera when I was 16, and I had to integrate into a new school as a junior. I don't recall why or how, but she befriended me very quickly and was a very important part of my becoming situated in my new setting. Part of her efforts to help me grow comfortable at the new school was to invite me to her church, but I have no profound memories of her being especially preachy. She was just like so many other students at my new school: High on Jesus and happy to spread the word. She was also the person who introduced me to all of the "punk" kids AND she was a cheerleader. In retrospect, I have to say that she was a remarkably open minded person and I liked her a great deal. I did not, however, make many efforts to stay friends with her after that year because I also vaguely recall her being fairly insipid as personalities go.
Which is why it pains me to consider her for Facebook De-Friending.
Actually, the problem is greater than this. This woman and the issue she now presents me with is merely a symptom of my own intolerance.
You see, this "friend" recently joined the group "Fans of Sarah Palin". Need I say more?
Well, yes, I should. What is wrong with her having her own set of values and exploring her options through a social networking cite that goes well beyond her relationship with me? Really, I have to admit, nothing. Should I not desire a diversity of views and perspectives among friends? Absolutely, yes.
But "Fans of Sarah Palin"?!?
To my mind, this is not an expression of political interest so much as a reflection of a deeper problem: appalling ignorance. How can anyone in control of her intellectual faculties find anything redeeming in the candidacy of Sarah Palin for major political office? The woman is ENTIRELY ill-suited to run for any office above mayor. Her governorship would concern me more if Alaska were a contiguous state. She has consistently fumbled opportunities to present herself in a positive light (save her inaugural address as VP before the RNC). She made a fool of herself in nearly every interview she had after August 2009 (was that 3 or 4?), she failed to produce a coherent articulation of her policies, and, since tanking any chance McCain had to be president, has done more to prove that she is addicted to media attention (see her statement regarding Levi Johnson's interview with Tyra Banks) than to indicate a real determination to lead the Republican Party (Lord help us if she were to manage herself inversely).
Simply put, Sarah Palin is an embarrassment to everything she stands for.
So, what to make of those who are fans of her? Honestly, I just can't get my head around this. I've looked past this friend's constant updates declaring, "God is good!" and references to Christian living. These are not objectionable expressions of spiritual happines, and I generally appreciate the individual experience. Being a Christian is a good thing for many people and I fully appreciate this.
Did I mention that this friend posted a postive review of the movie "Expelled"? You know, the movie by Ben Stein that purports to offer a valid rebuttle to all those Ivory Tower evolutionists who hate religion? Not familiar with this one? Well, you should read Roger Ebert's review.
So let's see, she loved the movie "Expelled" and is a fan of Sarah Palin. What does this tell me? That my "friend" is an anti-intellectual and a creationist. She is a completely unthinking individual who uses her religious affinity as a barometer for guaging the relative merits of the secular world. She is, in other word, my nemesis.
So why am I Facebook "friends" with her? We don't live in the same city. We haven't seen each other since the early 1990s. We would likely never meet up again to relive the "glory days" of high school. Apart from being American women we have almost nothing in common. In short, we are not friends in the strictest sense of the word.
(Glenn Beck in what must be THE MOST PATRIOTIC SWEATER IN THE HISTORY OF AMERICA.)
Quick Poll: What's missing from Glenn's awesome sweater?
A.) A Swastika B.) Bill O'Reilly's face C.) Just one thread of dignity
Last week, a lone gunman by the name of Richard Poplowski opened fire on an unaware group of police officers in Pittsburgh. Poplowski was an active member of the internet white supremacist group, StormFront, who shot the police in defense of his "right" to own automatic and semi-automatic weapons. He targeted the police because he believed they would soon answer the President's purported call to strip all Americans of their 2nd Amendment rights. Two obvious ironies of the gunman's logic include but are by no means limited to:
1) Most police are card-carrying members of the NRA and vote conservative. Some are even white supremacists. My evidence may be anecdotal, but I was raised by a police officer and no from liberalism on this point. Besides, I'm pretty sure the Southern Poverty Law Center has investigated these assumptions and come to similar conclusions.
2) Obama has explicitly stated that he DOES NOT have an agenda to abrogate the 2nd Amendment. He has been pressed on this subject many times, and as a constitutional lawyer, has admitted that gun control is a tricky proposition that is not easily dealt with by enacting restrictive laws.
Of course, the only reason why there is a glimmer of doubt regarding Obama's position on gun control is because the NRA has attempted to miscast him as a liberal wingnut hell bent on taking guns from American patriots. Before the election, I heard several students claim that if Obama won, they were going to run out and buy as many guns as they could afford before he passed laws making the purchase illegal. They were perfectly adament in their view that guns would become contraband under an Obama regime. Nevermind that they were conflating the right to bear arms with the opportunity to buy them...Anyway, the NRA did a bang up job propagandizing the threat to gun rights in the event of an Obama victory. It should surprise no one that those who buy the NRA's lies are now afraid.
Now, Glenn Beck is telling his FoxNews viewers that we are living in a neo-fascist state and that it is only a matter of time before our constitution is stripped of any meaning by Obama's "thugs." He's been going on about "loving his country" and suggesting to his God-fearing, patriotic listeners that they may need to start preparing for civil war.
In this context, is it any wonder that a neo-Nazi cretin should start believing the hype and start shooting the forces he fears are threatening his way of life and America's future?
The writers at This American Life, who won a Peabody Award for their incredibly helpful explanation and analysis of how the push for bad home loans tanked our economy, "The Giant Pool of Money."
If you haven't yet heard this, download the podcast to your iPod, set aside an hour and go for a walk. You won't regret it.
I was driving along one of the main streets along the square the other day and saw a shoe in the middle of the road.
I've been thinking about this phenomenon for a while. How does a footless shoe get in the middle of the road? Did it fall out of a shoe truck? Was it a casualty of a wanderer's frustration? Was George Bush just standing there?
When I was in college, a friend of mine got hit by a car. She survived the crash, but when she described it, she marveled at the fact that her shoes were thrown several hundred feet in the opposite direction of her feet, which were, gladly, attached to her body. Somehow I think it's worth mentioning that the shoes were Birkenstocks that had been re-soled at least once. I got the distinct impression that for her, despite her minor breaks and bruises, the recovery of her shoes was the greatest miracle of all.
So now, I'm worried that that shoe in the road off the square is overlooked evidence in a hit an run.
Now that my mind has turned towards the macabre...what if its all that's left of a person that was nabbed by aliens? What if the rapture is happening incrementally, and right now, God is only accepting pedestrians? (I suppose he realizes just how dangerous it would be for those left behind--even if they are damned--if he just started yanking believers up to heaven while they are behind the wheel.)
Why do you think the shoe is in the middle of the road?
