“only,” i replied, “if you’re afraid of a crypto-muslim quasi-communist pseudo-american halloween”
which is, unfortunately, a joke that wouldn’t play in certain parts of this country. but four days out from THE MOST IMPORTANT ELECTION OF OUR TIMES (at least i’m told, and feel), i have to admit that i’m not nearly as frightened by the lunatic fringe of rearguard amerrca as i have been in previous elections. i just don’t think they’re gonna decide this one for us. if they do, then i’m gonna have to swallow the hard truth that they aren’t a fringe and we aren’t who i thought we were. and to prepare, moreover, finally to move to canada or the caribbean. (tho i sometimes wonder whether the people’s republic of cambridge isn’t just as good. i mean, let’s face it, here in massachusetts i’ll still be able to get decent social services, and even gay-married, into the foreseeable future.)
if “that one” does pull this off though — which is to say, if young people and frustrated people and purple people come out and vote in droves — then i’m gonna be downright elated. i suspect, round these parts, tuesday night will sound and feel a lot like when brasil wins the world cup and all the brazilians drive around in their cars, beeping and cheering and waving flags out the window. after 8 long years and two major electoral disappointments, i can hardly let myself imagine the feeling. but i gotta admit, my anxieties are allayed by obama’s steadfastness. i truly believe, and have for some time, that he’s got this.
and if it turns out that he does, if it turns out that obama is elected president next tuesday, let me tell you something — and i say this for michelle, who will make an utterly awesome first lady — for the first time in my adult life, i’ll be really proud of my country.
yep, i said it. don’t tell me you don’t agree.
trick or treat? this tuesday, let’s hope for the latter.
Don't take this elegance as anything less than a disaster
Oh my adorers, don't take me as made out of hard soil
It takes a little silk, it takes a little glass
Diamonds and pearls come together, it takes a little gold
Such a fair body is then made
Oh, applying the ailment of love to the heart,
Wounds need to be made
With a bleeding heart the flowers of desire have to blossom
Thousands of pains arise, so many thorns pierce
A flower garden is then made
It takes a little silk, it takes a little glass
Diamonds and pearls come together, it takes a little gold
Such a fair body is then made
Laughing, you haven't even had two words, you've already become a lover
First ask their price, then take my arms
Heart, money, the world, when one loses all three in love
He then becomes my lover
It takes a little silk, it takes a little glass
Diamonds and pearls come together, it takes a little gold
Such a fair body is then made
It takes a little silk, it takes a little glass
MTV's gone all web2.0 all a sudden — here's a sleek alpha site for all things (MTV) asian :: "which culture do you feel warm & fuzzy about?" "desi," "korean," "chinese," or "global"?
"We are taking this cyberground railroad to new celebrity, much like our cousins worldwide. Youtube has become a place to 'get a rep,' for some to use as a stepping-stone to other things. But for some, and maybe most of us, it is a place to be who we are, in our own skin." — Vetalle Fusilier :: "we kiss the ass of youtube." — fatman scoop
"Somehow, the n-word has found its way back into hip-hop's critical zeitgeist: I'm interested in exploring, as a Dominican New Yorker, how we as a community have propagated it. Recently, due to the mounting criticism of Boricua rapper Fat Joe's use of the term eight albums deep into his career (including his latest, The Elephant in the Room), Latinos are being challenged to introspect. … Many folks in our parents' generation have rejected their blackness—I have older Latino neighbors who won't vote for Barack Obama simply because he's black—but those generations more informed by hip-hop are embracing their Afro-Latino identity and evolving past our own self-hatred."
a 10-minute selection of yours truly's favorite riddim, the mad mad / diseases (aka johnny dollar, aka golden hen, aka dutty rub), focusing mainly on 1980s post-diseases productions :: i've got an 80 minute mix on this riddim, including the zunguzung meme, based on my dissertation research (which tells the intertwined histories of hip-hop and reggae by following the mad mad riffs from JA to BX/BK and back again), which i really need to get around to bouncing down
"Because his source material is generally pulled from dubstep, ragga, outré hip-hop, found sounds, and other indigenous musics, those tapestries can often sound political. Clayton has such a global, democratic ear and such a knack for soupy unease that it's difficult not to hear his mixes, at least partly, as commentary pieces." :: soupy unease, i like that; i like this mix too :: sink deep, ya heard?
A few weekends ago, me & B & the Neeks visited the Decordova Museum in nearby Lincoln, MA. It’s a favorite spot of ours for taking a stroll or having a picnic, and we were gassed to bring Nico to a place filled with such marvels.
I was pretty amused, actually, by her bemused reactions to things like giant concrete cats, and it made me wonder how she assimilates stuff like that into her consciousness right now. I mean, she’s only been to so many parks at this point, and she must be trying to figure out — if only subliminally — how often she should expect them to be filled with giant sculptures of every conceivable make and medium. It’s not going to be the same (relatively high) proportion that it is at this point, I’m sorry to say.
Anyway, on the crisp, sunny autumn day we visited the park, lots of the pieces were quite captivating (and I snapped shots of several), but one piece stood out as absolutely stunning: Pine Sharks by Kitty Wales. The shot above captures the three figures together, floating in the pines; the three below offer some details and different angles —
As. I. Type. Cabide DJ is on Mofo Radio at WZBC here in Boston, playing live MPC routines (sometimes with his feet) and promising to offer up a Miami Bass -> Funk Carioca history lesson a little later. If you’re reading this around the time of posting, TUNE IN NOW — there’s still 2 hours left!
If you’re late to this, here’s how he introduced himself —
As Gregzinho translates, Cabide notes that what you hear here is “not really funk carioca” but instead, something he put together for American audiences. He’s gonna be playing for us Americans for an hour-and-a-half tomorrow night, starting around 11:30. What’s Portuguese for bonkers?
Update!: After playing that “American” MPC set, Ghostdad asked Cabide to play something a little more carioca, so he obliged with a set based on his opening routine for his party in Rio. I quick ripped that too —
I knew that having children would also mean having cheerios. Finding them under foot, in the creases of the car seat, stuck to the wall, etc.
When Becca and I moved into our present apartment — previously lived in by a couple and their one-year-old — we cleaned from top to bottom what was already a pretty tidy place, and yet, for six months I was still occasionally sweeping up rogue cheerios hiding out behind the radiator or under the stove. So I knew what was coming.
And I accept my fate, entering the cheerio era with some equanimity, even while anticipating that familiar crunch under my shoes for the next, oh, FIVE YEARS or so — and even though, frankly, I don’t like cheerios. (At least I won’t have to deal with honey-nut® cheerios, though; those things weird me out.) Plus, who can begrudge a cute kid her cheerios?
awesome! GYWO (i.e., get your war on), some of the funniest, bitingest anti-GWOT humor around, has gone video with its clip art conversation steez :: (thx, paul irish)
local article on malaysian shuffle, a "legit street culture with a massive following among teenagers" :: no discussion of the melbourne connection here, and quite a bit of space devoted to the violence plaguing the shuffle (vs. rock?) scene
'It is a well-attested fact that one day, usually between six and eighteen months, a child that has not been able to recognise its image reflected in a mirror will abruptly recognise itself and express jubilation. The child’s delight in taking this for itself is in part caused by the image having an apparent unity and coherence which the child has thus far failed to achieve – the image is therefore an anticipation of what it will become, an ego which is constituted as “another”. … The image in the mirror provides a compensation for the loss of this original unity but is in itself a misrecognition (méconnaissance) since the image is always only a specular image. Taking such an image into ourselves is, however, necessary for the formation of our ego, our sense of self, but it will also leave us with a sense of lack (la manque) since the image is never anything other than a sign or symbol, not the real in itself. … This process of misrecognition inaugurates “the Imaginary”. '
"A piece of art by Damien Hirst has set the new record for a single item at auction. The piece entitled ‘Oh Shit’ fetched £2.3bn after frantic bidding by an anonymous investor. The work, which features a Merrill Lynch employee suspended in a tank of formaldehyde secured the highest price yet paid for a single piece of banking history."
steven pinker on colorful, regulated language: "….over time, taboo words relinquish their literal meanings and retain only a coloring of emotion, and then just an ability to arouse attention. This progression explains why many speakers are unaware that sucker, sucks, bites, and blows originally referred to fellatio, or that a jerk was a masturbator. It explains why Close the fucking door, What the fuck?, Holy Fuck!, and Fuck you! violate all rules of English syntax and semantics—they presumably replaced Close the damned door, What in Hell?, Holy Mary!, and Damn you! when religious profanity lost its zing and new words had to be recruited to wake listeners up."
more bean research, in audio form! :: "Boston is one of those east coast cities that's a bit of an enigma. Although it's not far from the epicenter of New York, Beantown isn't known nationally for its hip hop scene. Of course there are a few notable exceptions but the hip hop output of the city was mostly distributed and recognized locally. After a few years of searching earnestly, my boston collection is modest at best. Nonetheless, there are some amazing gems and I want to share them here. Here are a couple boston compilations I put together."
musicologist, internet annotator, imagined community organizer.
