jimmy

Thanks to a discussion on Govinda’s Facebook page about prog rock, here’s a list of things I hate hate hate about songs played at sports events.

1. Rush. If you take a look at the Spotify list of the Kings’ in-game music you’ll see there is Rush. Of all the music that plays, that song is the one that brings me to attention to everything that is going on. Geddy Lee’s vocals makes my eardrums want to file a complaint with the UN citing the Geneva Convention.

The talk about prog rock made me think of this. Being a complete pretentious fuck, my mind gets polluted by shit music all of the time. So here’s my list of complaints.

2. Red Hot Chili Peppers. Flea is a Lakers season ticket holder. Clayton Kershaw’s walk-up music is “Snow (Hey Oh)” which I initially confused as a Tracy Chapman song. I’m sorry. The Red Hot Chili Peppers made a career on playing live with socks on their dicks once, the same funk bass lines, Anthony Keidis running shirtless in slo-mo and what is essentially the same song recycled over and over and over and over again.

3. LFMAO/Black Eyed Peas. These two groups are combined because they make the same songs essentially. Tonight is not a going to be a good good night, and you are not sexy and I know it. There will be no boom boom powing tonight because hopefully you’ve been potty trained.

4. Bro-step. Wikka wikka briudfnhfgidjgoijhrgafg. Thanks to Skrillex and others of his ilk, testerone-overdosed rapist assholes now can get into electronic music. It’s aggressive. It’s jarring. It’s manly. Pee-yuke.

5. Kings warmup selections. During pregame warmups on the ice, the Kings players select the songs that are played. I have likened it to dropping the soap at a gay bath house. It’s pure Euro techno trance, and even dosed with tons of E I would have trouble digesting it. By the way, here’s Dustin Penner writing about his life in EDM.

6. DJ Khaled – “All I Do Is Win”. No No No no no no NONOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! No! I’d much rather listen to Jock Jams than this.

One of these days, I need to get my hands onto the controls at these arenas and stadiums.

The other day someone post this link of the 15 best Pixies Songs. They said the best Pixies song is “Debaser”. There were notable songs absent on that list.

So I will rebut with my top 15 list since it’s not subjective or anything. Yeah.

15. “Alec Eiffel” – Trompe Le Monde.

Let’s face it. Trompe Le Monde was a shit album. The band was falling apart at the seams, and you could hear it in this album. This was one of their last gasps, and oddly enough it didn’t fall in line with their soft-loud-soft motif. “Alec Eiffel” is loud and filled with Black Francis’ cryptic lyrics.

But at least we get the payoff of Kim Deal’s saccharine vocals at the outro along with that keyboard riff that I can’t get enough of.

14. “Nimrod’s Son” – Come on Pilgrim.

“You are the son of a motherfucker.” Before Bugs Bunny redefined the term “nimrod” to be an idiot, it used to mean a tyrant. In the Jewish and Muslim traditions, there was a battle between Abraham and Nimrod, a battle between monotheism and polytheism. You can read about all of that here.

The Pixies were the best at reinterpreting the subversive and relatively esoteric biblical in a pop context, usually all in the same song. Here we have Nimrod, a dying man’s thoughts, charges of incest. All of this wrapped in a country-western saga.

13. “Stormy Weather” – Bossanova.

Embedded in an album filled with surf tunes and UFO references comes this hidden gem. The lyrics are simple. “It is time. It is time for stormy weather.” The music sounds simple, just a couple of couple of power chords.

But listen closely you hear dueling guitar parts fighting to make themselves heard. Instead it melds into one Spector-ian wall of sound that makes you want to dance outside during a summer storm.

In my junior year of high school, I loved driving around with this song blaring from my stereo at night. It was an escape, a liberation, a giddiness that we all dream of during adolescence.

Before I get started, I guess I’m a very angry person judging by the tone of these posts lately. Beh, fuck you.

First this dickhead appropriates and sanitizes 2 Live Crew with “Don’t Stop the Party”:

Now this peckerhead along with the fat cow Christina Aguilera have stolen from A-ha:

Okay. I went a little crazy on Twitter when I discovered this and told him to go fuck himself. I wonder if the kids know the little riff comes from this wonderful magic from the 80’s?

I guess it’s easy to regurgitate the past and feed it to back to the mindless public especially when you sell booze to that public to make them forget the crimes of pop you are committing. Hell, even Andy Warhol thinks it’s too derivative.

I guess that’s one way to ruin what was a most excellent Game 6 of the NBA Finals.

For weeks now I’ve been getting emails from every online vendor known to man saying that I should get such and such good deal for my dad on father’s day. The problem is he’s been dead for 16 years, and he was absent from my life for 26 years.

Even before my mom left my dad when I was 8 and moved us from Zachary, LA to LA, CA, the only thing I remember about my dad is beer. That’s all he really did: work, beer, cigarettes. He wasn’t a mean drunk. It was a means to escape. He never hit me or my mom. He never was abusive. He just ignored everything.

Then during high school, my mom wanted me to treat her boyfriend like a father. I didn’t hate him, but I didn’t like him either. Again, he wasn’t abusive or tried to get knees deep in my business. But he wasn’t my father, and I wasn’t going to treat him like such.

So all day on Facebook I’ve seen posts by people loving their daddies and posting pictures of themselves with their daddies and all of this sappy bullshit that makes me want to hurl.

You can have your happiness. I realize other people had it worse than I did. But it doesn’t make me any less bitter.

So fuck father’s day.

Doing the stupid NSA watch posts made me realize what a fucking dull life I lead. In fact it’s dull the point of depression and suicide, so I will halt it.

While Americans might forgive a bit of the Big Brother act in the name of terrorism, I don’t. I also don’t expect to be safe out there in world 24/7. Shit will happen, I might get killed, something I write might get me in deep shit.

What I haven’t really been paying attention to is the politics of how this is playing out. I don’t know if democrats are supporting the Prez even though they really railed against W when he did this. Not to mention this is more invasive than W’s plan.

It just goes without saying that I hate politics and think everyone in it should never be allowed to leave DC. If they want to snoop on each other, fine. Just leave me the fuck out of it.

Now I’m going to go back to my Melrose Place marathon.

• 10:00 – Wake up. Brush teeth. Evacuate bowels.
• 10:15 – Brew coffee. Pour a cup. Check email. Read Feedly feed. (Pictures of fog at Wrigley and Comiskey; KCRW’s evacuation during SMC shooting on Friday; details of gunman’s history).
• 10:45 – Take grandmother to her standing biweekly acupuncture appointment.
• 11:45 – On the off ramp from the freeway heading back home, I’m the third car in line in the right turn lane. The light is red. The lead car is not making a turn despite no traffic and is not on the sensor. So not only are we not moving, the light is not changing.

  I honk. Nothing happens. I roll down my window, stick my head out, and yell, “You fucking cunt. Can’t you make a fucking turn?” Nothing happens.

  A pickup truck mercifully goes into the left turn lane and does fall on the sensor. 30 seconds later the light turns green. I roll my passenger-side window down and hurl more expletives at the braindead dingbat driver.

• 12:00 – Get home. Make lunch.
• 12:30 – Take shower.
• 1:00 – Go to pick up my grandmother from her standing biweekly acupuncture appointment.
• 2:15 – Pack up and leave for Dodger Stadium.
• 3:00 – Arrive at Dodger Stadium. Set up. Listen to some Fleetwood Mac. Go downstairs to find roster changes again.
• 4:00 – Donnie says communication w/ front office is still great. See Jonathan Davis at the park and gab a little.
• 5:00 – Go upstairs and start writing my story with Donnie’s quotes at the top.
• 6:00 – Have dinner.
• 7:00 – First pitch. Start writing about how awful home plate umpire Clint Fagan was. Then the brawl happened. New story.
• 12:30 – Leave the Ravine.

Continuing to help out the poor folks at the NSA.

• 9:30 – Wake up. Brush teeth. Evacuate bowels.
• 9:45 – Make coffee. Take a mug. Check email and Feedly including stories on Cannibal Corpse, Yasiel Puig and John Schwada.
• 10:30 – Watch porn and relieve some hormonal buildup.
• 11:00 – Wrote some words. Fixed grandmother breakfast and meals for the day.
• 12:00 – Nurse came over for a follow up for grandmother.
• 12:30 – Made lunch and dinner.
• 1:00 – Wrote up NSA post.
• 1:15 – Aunt stopped by. Had argument.
• 1:30 – Washed dishes. Took out trash. Check mail (just junk).
• 2:00 – Left the house. Got gas. Went to Dodger Stadium.
• 3:00 – Arrived at Dodger Stadium. Set up laptop. Went to clubhouse. Talked to Hanley, Justin Sellers. Interesting shit with Donnie. Gabbed with Maria and Joe. Dinner. Game. Postgame. Posted my story.
• 12:00 – Left Stadium. Got home. Brushed teeth. Evacuate bowels. Sleep.

With Edward Snowden, PRISM, The Guardian and the entire world raining down shit upon the Obama administration, I thought I’d start to help him and the NSA and let them know what I’m up to. After all, our poor government needs the unconditional support of its citizens, right?

• 8:30 – Woke up. Brushed teeth. Daily bowel evacuation. Made coffee and poured a cup. Turned on and watched an episode of Season 3 of Melrose Place.
• 9:00 – While watching the episode, I checked email, mostly junk, and kept my Simpsons: Tapped Out game up to date.
• 9:15 – Read my newsfeed on Feedly. Contained several articles from Vice, Gawker, Deadspin, Brain Pickings.
• 9:30 – Put on clothes. Pour to-go mug with coffee. Packed up computer. Left house for Dodger Stadium.
• 10:15 – Arrived at Dodger Stadium. Set up laptop. Went downstairs to clubhouse to get the day started. Talked to Jerry Hairston about Stanley Cup Finals.
• 11:00 – Mattingly in the dugout. Sent out a couple of Dodger-related tweets.
• 11:30 – Back up to press box. Started writing my piece.
• 12:00 – Ate lunch
• 1:00 – Dodger game starts. Went on #LasordaWatch as Tommy napped during the game. Checked Feedly several times during the game. Read Guardian piece on Edward Snowden.
• 5:30 – Left Dodger Stadium after posting story. Stopped off at Ralphs to buy Lactaid milk for grandmother.
• 6:30 – Made dinner. Steak and rice.
• 7:30 – Watched an old Huell Howser episode about the Bullock’s Wilshire Tea Room. Spent the next few hours on Wikipedia looking up listed historical places in Southern California and Louisiana.
• 9:30 – Moonshine and Melrose Place.
• 12:30 – Sleep.

Hopefully that helps out Mr. and Mrs. and Ms. NSA folks.

69 years ago today the Allied Forces stormed the beaches of Normandy which is now famously known as D-Day. It was the great push on the Western Front to liberate Europe from the evils of Hitler and Nazi Germany.

I don’t hide behind the guise of patriotism. I don’t wave the flag blindly. I think war and belligerence should be the last option.

But without this operation, life as we know it could be a lot different. So I think we should take a moment and remember the significance of June 6.