Alien Founders

It's been a while since I've posted on this blog, as schoolwork, water polo, and lack of motivation have taken their toll. Yesterday, I was considering posting, but didn't know what to write about. So I gave up and went to the TV. In school, I've been studying the American Revolution, and decided to see if there was still a shred of historical programming on the History Channel that could help me. And sure enough, there was something on about the founding fathers. And it taught me a great lesson.

The founding fathers were directly inspired by…
ALIENS!

Fuck you, History Channel. Fuck you.

Unfortunately, there's a large piece of my psyche that loves to feed on stupidity, and so I decided to sit and watch it, jotting down notes to write an explanation as to why this is as stupid as it is. So here it is, my rebuttal to Ancient Aliens: The Founding Fathers.

The episode starts with showing the Founding Fathers and posing the question if they believed in aliens. They reference articles Ben Franklin published in his Poor Richard's Almanacs that mention extra-terrestrials, and call it "proof" that he had solid faith in aliens.
I have one massive problem with this logic. Apparently, believing in aliens means that one believes that aliens came to Earth. I believe aliens exist. Ben Franklin might have as well. However, neither one of us would say that aliens had been to Earth before. Franklin was a skeptic, so I doubt he'd be with that funny looking guy in saying that aliens were responsible for every advancement of man.
The other bits of evidence brought up are the Iroquois myths, about how a pregnant woman descended from the heavens and gave birth to humankind. I love how the guy presenting the myth in the show called the figure an "extraterrestrial." It's so common in Ancient Alien "theorists" that myths of sky-gods refer to aliens that it's seen as one of the greatest pieces of evidence for it. The only real refutation is that humans are an imaginative species. The sky is easily mythologized. So immediately posing aliens as the only answer is not only a huge leap in logic, it's calling the mythmakers unimaginative.

The second portion of their case is that the Founders were directly influenced by aliens. The moment they said "Valley Forge" I turned red from the stupid. Obviously they were referring to Washington's vision. According to myth, during the Valley Forge encampment, George Washington went into the woods and said a prayer. Then, an angel appeared and told him to never give up hope. She told of his victory, the Civil War, and the US's emergence as the most powerful nation on the planet.
I have a few little problems with this story. First comes the fact that it first appeared in 1880, without ever being mentioned earlier. One would think that if Washington told the aid who supposedly introduced the myth, then he would've spoken earlier, since it tells such an amazing prediction. Another problem is the fact that Washington never speaks of it. Never. Not once. This incredibly honest man sees an apparition that tells him about the future of the United States, and lives in a time when such visions were believed. Why then, would he only tell an aid? It could be used as a major rallying cry for the troops, as well as a motivation for the citizens.

Alien?

Finally, the fact that the myth is tied into aliens only adds more questions. If the aliens knew the future, then why would they want D.C. to be built to signal them? If the aliens were rooting for Washington, then why would they wait until Valley Forge to show it? I mean, at Germantown Washington's army, had it been better organized, would've routed Howe. Why wouldn't the aliens help Washington's men directly? Was Friedrich von Steuben an alien? This leap in logic makes no sense.
The next evidence is a UFO that was reported to Thomas Jefferson. This is something to behold, people. The father of the Declaration believes in aliens because he heard about a meteor UFO near Baton Rouge. The incident is about an object that falls from the sky, causing a good deal of heat and light, but does't form a huge crater when it crashes. Of course, meteors do this often, but don't bother telling that to them. The program makes the incident seem so important that it's a smaller leap in logic to assume that Jefferson believed in aliens, you know, like how it's easier to jump the Grand Canyon than Valles Marinas.

Now comes the time when we delve into the classic conspiracy of the Revolution. The Freemasons!
Yes, the Freemasons, who give the Illuminati a run for their money as the favorites of any conspiracy theorist. The Ancient Aliens apparently directly inspired this organization, whose symbols are used for signaling them to land. The program calls the organization a bunch of alien seeking elites who held the believe of extraterrestrials at heart. I'm no expert on Freemasonry, but something tells me that that's a load of shit.
For the most part, it's all about symbols and how they relate to aliens. But then there's the epitome of stupid in this episode. This painting.

                 
As you can see, the painting is decorated with Freemasonic imagery and various symbols. But the program focuses specifically on one little section.

I know it's low resolution, but it should still be clear what the image is: a Jacob's Ladder ascending into a cloud.
But wait, what's this? The cloud's round. What cloud is round? And the lights in it? What cloud has lights in it? No, obviously this is a UFO!
The stupidity of this is so stupendous that I am speechless.

The final part of this heinous special is about how DC is designed to aliens. By this point the stupid was so thick that it was a chore to keep going. Still I sat through it.
Apparently, D.C. is filled with symbols on the streets. This is clear. There's a star, various sets of triangles around important buildings, and Freemasonic symbols all throughout. So, of course, the only possible explanation of these is aliens! For you see, the Washington monument is at an important point in the city, built so that it lines up directly to the Pleiades. Therefore, it is meant to signal aliens. The Capitol Building is built upon a hill. Hills are important places in cities, as often major sites and buildings are placed on hills. However, there is a specific reason that the Capitol was built on that hill. By being on a hill, Aliens could see it was important. And the star streets? What other purpose could they have other than to signal extraterrestrials to come to Earth?

The great alien George Washington.

The program then ends with images of Washington in paintings on the capitol. This painting is shown. Obviously it was designed as a sort of joke about the deification of Washington. But no, it doesn't show Washington as a deity, watching Congress. It shows him among aliens.


                         

History Channel, why do you have this tripe on the air? This program is a menace to intelligence. It is inept at everything it shows, stupid beyond belief, and toxic to minds. It's not just the crackpots who believe this. Because of this show, I know several people who truly believe that the human race has been manipulated countless times by aliens. Intelligent people who have been influenced by this garbage into buying long-refuted idiotic notions that the human race is inept and unable to pull itself up without outside forces.
This show is insulting, insipid, and offensive to the mind. Don't ever watch it, for even mocking it is painful.

Emptiness

Nobody reads this blog.

I knew this would happen, of course, but it really irks me to see that only four people have seen it in the last three weeks. Maybe that's why Austin doesn't have the counter on the side. It's unbelievably annoying.
However, this does mean that, if I wanted to, I could post whatever crazy shit I wanted, and maybe only the Google people would notice. After all, there are a plethora of crazy blogs out there with weird junk and stupid ideas that have caught my eye. And it would fit my mediocre essay-writing skills.
But I think I'll stick the course of posting random, pointless essays, music reviews, and whatever else I decide to post. It's not like anyone will read it, so why should I care?

The King is Dead

The King is Dead by The Decemberists
9.1/10

Four years ago, if you told me that at age 16 anything resembling country would be my favorite genre, I'd probably slap you. And yet, through the jangly sound of Clearwater, the classic sound of the Eagles, and the warbles of Conor Oberst, Americana is my hands-down favorite genre. So when my dad got the new Decemberists album and told me it was Americana, I couldn't resist.
The Decemberists are known for their much more ornate albums and historical lyrics. I didn't know anything about them before this album, but after listening to The Mariner's Revenge song and 16 Military Wives a few times, I got a sense of how different this album is, and why the reaction was so mixed.
The King is Dead is a straightforward country-rock album in the same vein as Being There or Mermaid Avenue. Starting with a loud harmonica and a roaring beat, the album explores multiple sounds and themes, but nothing strays far out of the rootsy sound. Lyrically, the album ranges from doomsday to miners to simple hymns about months and the seasons. REM's Peter Buck joins in on the REM-esques Calamity Song, but the band seems to keep to one style for the most part. Another important note about this album is that it's a collection of songs. There's nothing like The Crane Wife's meandering themes and narratives, and the whole album has no theme.
It's actually hard to write a full review of this album. Unlike something like I'm Wide Awake It's Morning, there's nothing to really gush about, or to critique. It's so straightforward that it's nearly impossible to say anything. Every song is great, but the album isn't spectacular, and there aren't any huge faults to find. It's just a great album.

1. Don't Carry It All - 9/10 A loud and uplifting country rock song. It features a harmonica and loud, beating drums. The guitar is toned down to give the drums full center, and they punctuate every word Colin Meloy sings. The only break from this is a sudden string-filled bridge.
2. Calamity Song - 11/10 The doomsday song. It starts with a catchy riff by Peter Buck of REM, and adds on layers of instruments. Colin sings of a chaotic apocalypse with a gleeful tone, adding a Summerteeth style dichotomy. This song ranks at number 2 for my favorites on the album.
3. Rise to Me - 10/10 A calmer folk song. I have no idea what the lyrics mean, but they are quite poetic. The song is calm, soothing, and features Colin harmonizing with Gillian Welch. The song is folky with a touch of steel guitar.
4. Rox in the Box - 9/10 The historical song. This one follows miners working on a "grey granite mine." The song paints a bleak picture, and the track relies on accordion and a guitar riff.
5. January Hymn - 10/10 One of my favorites off the album. This song is slow, calm, and beautiful. It's folk, with a repetitive riff and Colin singing softly and melodically. The song is about the feelings of January, regret, and bleakness, yet the song is anything but stark. Again, the dichotomy recalls Summerteeth.
6. Down By the Water - 11/10 The hit, and for good reason. This song marks a departure from the calmer folk and country that preceded it. It's an emotional song, with chiming vocals and a roaring chorus. The song is layered, with guitar and accordion providing a backbone while the drums and vocals take center stage. Lyrically, I have no idea what it's about, but it does seem to hint at nostalgia.
7. All Arise - 8/10 I love and hate this song. It's a simple three-chord country song with chiming violins, cheesy lyrics, and goofy banjo/piano. It's just so odd that I hate it, but it's so catchy that I love it. The chorus is without a doubt the highlight, although I have no clue what "shotgun shy" means.
8. June Hymn - 9/10 A soft song based around harmonica and guitar. Like Rise to Me, the guitar drives the song. However, there are no drums. It's very near acoustic, yet it doesn't seem like it.
9. This is Why We Fight - 7/10 My least favorite on the album. That being said, it's still an excellent song. This song is loud, upbeat, and pounding. It has a feel that sticks out of the album, invoking a vigor and emotion that not even Down by the Water possesses.
10. Dear Avery - 10/10 My third favorite on the album. An acoustic song with a strange chord progression,  this song features Colin Meloy singing in a Conor Oberst style, with heavy emotion and warble. The lyrics describe a letter written to a man named Avery. The song ends with a beautiful coda, with drums, steel guitars, and humming vocals all blending together into pure Americana bliss.

Patriotism

Yesterday was the anniversary of 9/11. Ten years have gone by since that horrific day. I was a little six year old when it happened, and I barely remember that morning. Watching specials on it are the closest I've come to feeling the same emotion that many Americans feel. So, this anniversary did not affect me as it would anyone who lost someone or witnessed the event. It affected me in a very different way.
Following 9/11, there was a surge in patriotism that still lingers to this day. This patriotism allowed such heinous laws like the Patriot act to be passed, and eventually, it allowed the Iraq War to break out. It is something that I personally abhor.
Right or left, people who take this superpatriotic, us above everyone stance really worry me.  The problem that I have with patriotism is that it blinds people with nationalistic ideals that overcome all rational thought. I've been called anti-American for not wanting to recite the pledge in school. In the political arena, President Obama was criticized for not wearing a flag pin. People like Michelle Bachmann have called for investigations on who's "anti-American" in congress. Last year, Glenn Beck hosted the 9/12 Rally to Restore Honor in D.C. This rally leeched off of past accomplishments in American history and was a mockery of patriotism. Hell, the entirety of the Tea Party has based much of their ideology on this faux-patriotism.
Something that these "patriots" are failing to recognize is the difference between patriotism and nationalism. Patriotism is the love of one's country. Nationalism is the obsession of one's country. These people are not patriots, they are nationalists.

"Our country, right or wrong."
          -Stephen Decatur

Nationalism builds up racism. It builds up imperialism. It blinds its followers, wrapped in the flag, and often, religion. A nationalist will have undying love for their country. They will be unresponsive to reason. Historically, nationalist ideologies have been responsible for an endless amount of wars; most notably WWI. WWI was a pointless war fought over a clash of egos. It was fueled by endless nationalism. Another example of nationalism is the Red Scare. The use of irrational fear and the extreme love of America was manipulated to create a political witch hunt.
The people who wrap themselves in the flag and call America God's chosen nation are not patriots. They are nationalists.

"My country right or wrong; if right, to be kept right, and if wrong, to be set right."
         -Carl Schurz


Patriotism is open love for country itself, not its leadership or agenda. A patriot is someone who holds love for their country, but does not blindly follow it. A patriot does not hear a cry for war and immediately declare it a crusade. A patriot does not look at a fault in their society and pretend that it's not a problem. A patriot does not act as a cog in a massive machine with no individuality.
If a nationalist sees his nation bomb the hell out of a smaller country on a faulty excuse, he will declare the excuse valid and insult the smaller nation. A patriot who sees this event will question the reasons and analyze the excuse. In a nation like our own, the patriot would be called a traitor, while the nationalist would be called a patriot.
The "patriots" we have in this nation seem to think that patriotism means someone who always wears flag pins, says the pledge every day, blindly follows whatever the government or their political involvement in the government does, never criticizes anything that America does (unless it's by a politician they dislike), and goes to sleep on an American flag pillow. Someone who criticizes the government or doesn't support a military action will be branded a traitor, communist, or my favorite, socialist.

Of course, the five people who see this post might wonder if I myself am a patriot. Because of the use of the word in this nation, I would not want to call myself one; however, if one considers the real meaning, then almost every loyal American would be called a patriot. I'm just a cynical teenager who finds this fake patriotism to be a pile of bull, but I do love my country. And while the pledge or the national anthem never really affected me, there was one moment where I was overcome by love of country.

Last summer, I was with the Boy Scouts up in the Sierras. It was the final night, and the entire camp was gathered up at a little amphitheater, where two fires were burning. The sun had gone down, but there was just enough light in the sky to bathe the forest in blue moonlight. The amphitheater itself glowed orange from the flame.
Up in front of the crowd stood the staff of the camp. They stood at attention, facing the audience, their faces all glowing orange. The entire camp stood up and at attention as four men, carrying two folded flags, approached the stage. Both stopped in between the fires, and the camp director came down off the boulder. He was in his mid-fifties and sported a white beard. He took out a small slip of paper and introduced the flags. The one I saw was from 1994, and had been flown multiple times in different scouting troops. It had been left out in a storm, ripped, and could no longer properly convey the symbol of our nation. And so the flags were unfolded to be presented to us for one final time.
The flag opened. I looked upon it, at all the faded colors and sad holes, all bathed in an eerie orange glow. I brought my hand up to my forehead and saluted, and we all began to recite the pledge of allegiance. Unlike all those times in school when I would blindly recite it, this time my mind held upon every word, and it all stirred up many emotions deep inside me. We then watched as it was lifted up over the fire to be retired. The flag was lowered gently over the flames, which began to lick greedily at the cloth. The dull orange glow turned to a bright yellow beam, and light smoke began to rise as the fire consumed the old flag. As this went on, the camp director began to sing. His song described where our flag has been flown, describing various scenes in battle and in peace. As he sang, a strange feeling came into my heart, one that I knew, but it was stronger than I had ever felt it before. It was love of country. It was pure patriotism for this great nation; it seemed to overcome everything and swallow up the cynicism that I held.
The fire died down, and the flag had been reduced to a pile of ashes. The entire camp then filed out. As I walked down off the rock and watched the orange glow fade into the trees, my emotions shifted back to normal, but I knew that I loved my country.

That is what patriotism is about. Love of country. It's not about flag pins or saying the pledge. It's about loving your country honestly and sensibly.

Sky Blue Sky

Sporting a muted vibe, soft to crazy guitar solos, and a strange sense of longing, Sky Blue Sky is unlike any other Wilco album. The album is quiet, though it sports a fire that seldom erupts. The lyrics are more straightforward here than anywhere else. Gone are the protools, synthesizers, and chaos. In their place is simple instrumentation and long prog-rock solos. This is truly a dramatic shift for Wilco.
As one would expect, critics were polarized. Some panned it, as they expected wild experimentation, while others lauded it as Wilco’s maturing form. Personally, I don’t care either way. Sky Blue Sky is a good album. It’s not great, but it’s not boring. If anyone wants to judge the album, ignore all the madness from the media outlets and just sit back and listen.
Sky Blue Sky might be mellow, but that doesn't mean it's dull. The music can rise and build to rough heights at whim. This is due to the new guitarist, Nels Cline. Coming from the prog-rock arena, Cline is the most talented guitarist to join the band, though he lacks the songwriting abilities of Jay Bennet. Cline shows off his impressive skills on track three, the gentle Impossible Germany, and on the bluesy Side With the Seeds.
Of course, the dominating force of this album is Jeff Tweedy, the principle songwriter. The songs are driven by Nels Cline, but Tweedy makes them far more ornate than mere folk. The two of them form a kind of partnership, with each taking a different piece of the song. For example, on Impossible Germany, Tweedy dominates the first half with a soft ballad, then turns it over to Nels Cline, who bursts into a three minute solo.
However, Tweedy controls all the words, and he pens lyrics that are completely different from the last three albums. They are incredibly direct and soft, which is very strange coming from a man who once sang a ten minute song about spiders and Lake Michigan. That doesn't mean that they lack emotion. The title track mirrors an earlier Wilco tune, Far Far Away, by showing contemptible relief. The closer is an emotional throwback to Tweedy's childhood, and Hate it Here, which seems to be mere comic relief, shows a deeper understanding of loss. Stripping away the cryptic puzzles Tweedy penned for previous albums, Sky Blue Skyshows him at his core.
Sky Blue Sky also displays Wilco’s wonderful trait of making music that grows with each listen, with Impossible Germany becoming almost as strong as Misunderstood, and the title track as gentle and caring as Far Far Away. Even the weaker songs grow, though none are true masterpieces. The last third of the album seems almost like filler the first few listens, but it grows very well, with the listener often discovering new emotions buried within the songs.
Sky Blue Sky is a great addition to Wilco’s discography, adding a great mellow folk sound to their long list of achievements.

Either Way - 10/10 A very gentle opener. The song is direct and the lyrics meander among possibilities. The song grows slowly, adding instrument after instrument, then slowly shrinks. It's a very beautiful song.

You Are My Face - 10/10 A much fiercer verision of its predecessor. This song begins slowly, adding instrument after instrument. Tweedy brings back the cryptic lyrics, discussing ordinary beehives and screaming doors. The song then builds as Nels Cline takes it over, and one almost expects the fuzzy guitar to be accompanied by saxophones. 

Impossible Germany - 11/10 Best song on the album. This song is really two songs, one by Tweedy and one by Cline. Tweedy starts it with a gentle ballad, tying the Axis Powers as a metaphor for confrontation. Then Cline takes it over, starting with a gentle bridge with two guitars repeating a melody. Then one guitar takes over, the other joins in, and the listener is carried through a blissful musical landscape.

Sky Blue Sky - 11/10 A close second for best song. This song finds Tweedy reflecting on a time of depression, one that mirrors an earlier song, Far Far Away. The narrator is watching a parade in a small town, and he longs for something more. But then he realizes that he's alive and well, and that's good enough for now. This song is brilliant, and I love it.

Side With The Seeds - 10/10 A considerably harsher song. Tweedy sings with a foggy emotion, and the song meanders repetitively through a soul-style melody. Then Nels Cline comes in and whisks the song into a chaotic series of screaming guitars. 

Shake It Off - 4/10 The clear weakest song. This song took a long time for me to get used to it. It has a repeating melody, crashing guitars, and borders on the annoying. Tweedy sings with a much more muted vioce here, then shouts the title several times. The instruments crash and moan, and the song ends.

Please Be Patient With Me - 10/10 After two noisy tracks, here we have the gentlest song on the album. This song is a quiet speech from one lover to another, with only Tweedy's sad voice, guitar, and bass. The result is a muted and sad tune that stands out on the album.

Hate It Here - 9/10 This is a puzzling song. It sounds like comic relief, as it describes a man learning chores after a breakup, but underneath this there seems to be a much deeper sense of loss and longing. The song is brilliant in this regard. Musically, it's similar to You Are My Face, but it brings in a much jazzier feel for the chorus.

Leave Me Like You Found Me - 8/10 Another gentle song. Upon first glance, I felt that this was dull, with a repetitive style and Tweedy singing like he's reciting a lullaby. But this one grows, as does the album, with each listen. True, it's not a standout track, but it's still a good song.

Walken - 8/10 A much more upbeat song. This song is a gentle piano-driven romp that describes a narrator who is walking along, singing about his lover. This songs seems to be much more optimistic than its predecessor, and it might be the most shallow song here.

What Light - 8/10 Tweedy obviously learned something from Woody Guthrie. Here he sings about popularity and the artistic style, saying that "What was yours is anyone's from now on." The song seems to be set on the concept of a light that drives emotion.

On And On And On - 9/10 A sad piano driven ballad. Tweedy wrote this about the death of his mother when he was a child. It describes a speech his father gave him saying that people are designed to die. The song builds to a climax with strings, guitar, bass, and piano all forming a sort of symphony. Then everything strips away to reveal Tweedy's lone voice. The album ends with that somber note.

Bonus Tracks:
Itunes carries two bonus tracks for the album. Both are phenomenal, and I'll include them in this review.

Let’s Not Get Carried Away - 10/10 A loud rocker that describes the resentment that Tweedy feels from being a musician. Tweedy screams with anger in the song, begging the listener to not get carried away. The song is much harsher than the rest of the album.

The Thanks I Get - 11/10 I consider it a crime that this song was cut from the album. A soft folk-rock song, this is a beautiful piece of music. It's simple and catchy, describing a man asking his lover if her actions are the thanks he gets from falling in love. This song is unbelievably good, and as to why Wilco left it off the album, I have no idea.

Mercator vs Peters

Over the last week, I have been at school, and there is something in my AP English room that is driving me insane. There is a map on the wall called the Peters Map, and on its bottom is a chart showing why it's better than the classic Mercator projection. The mastermind behind it, Arno Peters, designed it as a response to the widely used Mercator. He showed it as a superior alternative, and he pointed out a bunch of errors and biases in the traditional projection.

Unfortunately for Mr. Peters, two wrongs do not make a right.

For in his effort to make a map better than the Mercator map, he made a map just as awful. The distortion of the Mercator map expands the north, and it makes the entire globe look top-heavy. Peters responded to this by making the distortion in the north minimize its size while blowing up the equator and stretching it. The result is this:

This was made as a response to this:

Here's the main problem with these maps. Any cartographer knows that there is no way to make a flat world projection without creating massive distortion. Any map, no matter how accurate, will never be as good as a globe. However, the best maps are those that have the least distortion.

The Mercator map is flawed because its authors wanted it to be distorted. This map is so unbelievably biased towards the north that it overwhelms everything else. According to Mercator, North America is larger than Africa, Greenland is nearly endless, and Scandinavia is larger than Australia. It is fairly obvious why someone from the Age of Exploration would want this bias. It makes Europe look more important than the rest of the world, thus making the explorers feel special.

The Peters map is flawed because Mr. Peters wanted it to be the opposite of Mercator. Peters shrunk down the poles and expanded the equator. The result is an unbelievably stretched map that simply looks off. According to Peters, Africa is the same size as Asia, and South America is larger than North America. It is so flawed that it's essentially equal to Mercator.

There is one main reason why both of these maps are so incredibly off. Look up at the grid lines on them. These maps are on flat grids. Every latitude and longitude line meets in perpendicular intersections. It is impossible to create a map based upon these settings that does not look incredibly distorted.

So why is this map still sitting on the wall of my AP English class? Why does the Mercator map still hang on the walls of half of my middle school classrooms? Why do people still use Mercator and Peters, and why is there still a debate between both camps? 

Tradition. Mercator's been used for centuries. Peters directly challenges it. For anyone who looks at maps with the even grid, there are two choices. Peters is the politically correct one, and Mercator is the traditional one. Which one would you choose?

Personally, I prefer this one:

School has begun

Summer is over. Today, I went back to my wonderful high school for the first day of junior year. Hooray.

Friendster

In this day and age, Facebook seems to be the only real social networking site, as Myspace and Friendster died a long time ago, and Google+ is far from the mainstream. However, I decided to go to Myspace and Friendster just to see what they were like. Myspace is just a cluttered bunch of nonsense, but Friendster had something interesting.

Seems generic, doesn't it? One thing sticks out, though.

Unlike Myspace, it seems that Friendster not only fell to Facebook, it embraced it. 

Standing on the Shoulder of Giants

This album is said to be Oasis's worst album. After hearing Heathen Chemistry, I knew that it had to be bad to beat that disappointment. But that album has nothing to compare. This album is without a doubt the worst Oasis album, and it's honestly hard to listen to at times.
This album was being recorded when the band lost two founding members, "Bonehead" and "Guigsy." As a result, Oasis rerecorded the album as a three-piece, and added electronic elements to the music. The album sounds entirely different from their earlier work, and almost comes off as an attempt for the band to completely expand. This album utterly fails in that regard.
The result of this turbulence is a mediocre to awful album that stands out as the worst Oasis album. The fault here comes from both bad songwriting and Be Here Now-esque indulgences. The entire album is filled with experiments that go nowhere and overly simplistic songs. It has a disconnect to it, and yet it seems to flow because every song is similar in some regards. But the dichotomy of this album is unintentional, and comes off as faulty. Albums that have working dichotomy can intrigue the listener, like Wilco's Summerteeth. But this album merely bores or annoys the listener.
Unless you are a committed Oasis fan, you will not enjoy most of this album. And even if you are a committed Oasis fan, some of these songs will test your patience.

1. F**king in the Bushes - 7/10 A strange opener. It's an instrumental that features a loud blaring riff, chaotic drums, and screaming background voices saying "kids are running around f**king in the bushes!" The song gets too repetitive, which is where I dock the points, but it does have a lot going for it.
2. Go Let it Out - 10/10 A very Beatle-esque song and the best on the album. This song sounds like a basic softer Oasis song that was embellished with electronic sound, and it works incredibly well. The song has a hypnotizing sound to it, being somewhat repetitive, but it doesn't go to any extreme.
3. Who Feels Love - 4/10 A lousy Indian style song. It's got lousy lyrics and an incredibly repetitive sound. The song has been so over-embellished that it just sounds clunky. The best part is a looping melody that acts as the bridge. It might have been sampled at the start of Bender's Game.
4. Put Yer Money Where Yer Mouth Is - 1/10 A loud, steamy pile of garbage. Featuring a heavy distorted sound effect and punk-esque vocals, it's repetitive and goes on and on, never getting out of the same few lines.
5. Little James 1/10 Crap. A big fat pile of crap. This is the vocalist Liam Gallagher's first song that makes it on an Oasis album, and it's just bad. Repetitive, simplistic, and hard to listen to, it's the worst song on the album, and according to a majority of fans, the worst in the entire Oasis catalogue.
6. Gas Panic 7/10 One of the more renowned tracks on the album, this song has a lot going for it. Featuring a repetitive series of beats, an eerie synthesizer, and Liam's haunting vocals, this song is a standout on the album. But there's two things that undermine it. One is the length. Clocking in at six minutes, it drags on. And that ties into the other problem. It's too repetitive. If it was whittled down a bit, this would be the best song on the album.
7. Where Did It All Go Wrong 7/10 A classic sounding Oasis song that gets put through the same electronic filter. Like Gas Panic, there's a lot going for it, but it gets cut off at the knees, this time due to overproduction.
8. Sunday Morning Call 9/10 A close runner-up for best song on the album. This song, like Gas Panic, is crippled by length, but unlike Gas Panic, this song survives and thrives. Built around Noel's gentler vocals and an electronic melody, this song is catchy and enjoyable, even at its 5 minute length and lack of dynamic qualities.
9. I Can See a Liar 2/10 Ever listen to one of AC/DC's early albums and completely forget about a few songs? This song is an homage to those. It's got an Angus Young riff and goes absolutely nowhere, and at its end the listener didn't get anything out of it. Forgettable nonsense.
10. Roll it Over 4/10 A long, slow, repetitive closer. It's got power to it, but unlike Champagne Supernova or Gas Panic, there's no direction. The song is aimless, meandering along, never finding its voice, and finally it peters out. If this song had a better melody and direction, it would be a shining star in the Oasis catalogue. As is, it's barely passable.

The Worst Movie I've Ever Seen

Well, it ranks up there.

The Adventures of the American Rabbit

My review:

This movie is so bad, I registered at Imdb to review it. "The Adventures of the American Rabbit" is a film so devoid of any sort of human qualities, it is impossible to conclude that it was made by our species. The film contains no intelligence whatsoever. There is not a shred of anything that resembles an actual movie in this film. It's unspeakably awful.

 The film starts with Rob the rabbit being raised in some weird European place, even though he's the American rabbit. These first few scenes play like something like I wrote when I was ten, having very little exposition, awkward and jarring pacing, and making almost no sense. Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, Rob turns into the American Rabbit during a picnic. An old rabbit shows up and tells him that he is part of a "legacy" and then Rob walks away and does something to go to San Francisco, where he meets these Jackals who shout nonsense and ride motorcycles.

 This first act of the film made me want to turn it off immediately. But I kept watching. And it just got stupider and stupider. Like when the villain kidnaps a chocolate making moose and claims that he now controls all chocolate. Or how Rob the Rabbit stops the water at Niagara Falls with lightening, shutting off the power grid for the entire country. The whole thing was just awful. 

While the plot was nonsensical, the dialogue was something else. It made no sense what so ever. Not one shred of sense. And yes, the film was made in Japan, but it was written by Americans, which nulls that excuse. In addition to the nonsense that the characters said, there was the fact that the voice actors were just bad. They spoke in monotonous dull voices that sapped away any sense of emotion. 

The only possible scenario I can imagine where one would pull enjoyment from this film is from a purely nostalgic perspective. Other than that, there is not one shred of entertainment to be found.

ACS Repost: White Light/White Heat

Whenever I publish an album review for ACS, I'll post it here.

White Light/White Heat by the Velvet Underground

7.5/10

An unfortunately large number of people disregard the Velvet Underground as an avant-garde bunch of nonsense-makers, like Captain Beefheart and others from the 60s avant-garde movement. The main reason for this assumption is their second album, White Light/White Heat.

This album is unbelievably loud, noisy, and nonsensical. It borders on the edge of musical acceptability. Featuring wild experiments, endless improvisation, long jams, nonsensical instrumentation, and innuendo-layden lyrics, this album is a great look at the strange, twisted, fucked up landscape of the 60s avant-garde underground.

This album breaks dozens of musical rules. The opener descends into chaos. The second song has a story in it, which is incredibly disturbing. Another tells a sick story of a botched operation. And another acts as a homage to the early 1900s classical music with an atonal guitar solo that drowns everything out. But the closer is the strangest. 17 minutes of endless improvisation, disobeying the goals of jazz artists, who aimed for harmony, by creating a chaotic cacophony of noise.

White Light/White Heat is not impossible to listen to, however, if one keeps an open ear. The mainstream listener will listen to one second of much of this album and throw it out, but if one enjoys the strange and nonsensical, this album is for you. This is why the album has such a legacy. The insane rule-breaking styles have influenced dozens of artists in the years since its release, who are intrigued by the strange and somewhat hypnotizing sounds of White Light/White Heat.

1. White Light/White Heat - 9/10  An upbeat opener that sounds like an avant-garde version of their earlier song "I'm Waiting for the Man." This song is a loud piano-base romp that describes the effects of amphetamines that were popular in the underground at that time. It ends after a descent into chaos. 
2. The Gift - 7/10  This song is really two different things entirely, spit into the different ears. One ear hears John Cale, the violist, telling a story written by Lou Reed. The other hears a loud feedback-saturated jam that's less than spectacular. The story is where all the attention is. It describes Waldo Jeffers, a man from Pennsylvania who pines for his lover Marcia in Wisconsin, and, unable to go there in a conventional way, decides to mail himself there. But he seals his packaging too tight and Marcia, unable to open it without a sharp pike, sends the pike into Waldo's skull.
3. Lady Godiva's Operation - 5/10 An incredibly fucked up song. Like The Gift, this song has two distinct parts, but they come as stages in the song. The first stage describes a promiscuous woman named Lady Goldiva. The second stage describes a back-alley operation that fails. It's incredibly disturbing and messed up, great for any fan of the twisted and macabre.
4. Here She Comes Now - 8/10 The calmest and most direct song on the album. A quiet 60s-style song, it's short and is entirely innuendo, punctuated by Reed's moans.
5. I Heard Her Call My Name - 3/10  Out of every song on this album, not one is anywhere near as grating as this one. It starts with feedback exploding into the listeners ears and Reed screaming "Wait a minute!" Reed then shouts out a series of nonsensical yells that are so distorted it's hard to decipher them. The track's feature is an atonal guitar solo that's almost exclusively feedback. Every now and then the song descends to the brink of madness before returning over the edge. The feedback finally ends it.
6. Sister Ray - 7/10 This song is unbelievable. Based around a simple three chord pattern and repetitive melody, the song is 17 minutes of endless improvisation that ranges from coordinated noise to sheer chaos. The track features three distinct elements. One is an organ that fills in gaps and is the most melodic. Second is an electric guitar that's played with chords and cadences half the time, and is just atonal nonsense the other half. The third element is Lou Reed singing a tale of debauchery, warning that "You'll stain the carpet" and repeating that "She's too busy sucking on my ding dong" and that "It's just like Sister Ray says." The song changes from near harmony at its start to chaos several times. The three main elements battle for supremacy, with Marie Tucker drumming quietly off in the corner. The song finally concludes with a crescendo and a sudden yell from the guitar. 

Layers

Going about your average day, it's easy to see why we often fall for the misconception that people are one-sided or simplistic. You go to work and see all the commuters as mindless sheep. Or you get to know someone to the point at which you claim that there is no good in them at all. Or you know someone who is so kind to you that you can't think of them doing any wrong.
Here is the big shocker. People are complicated. Each and every one of us has a deep and complex mind with multiple layers to our personality. No matter how one-sided someone may appear, they will always have different layers to them. And no matter how mindless the multitudes appear, each one of them is deep and complex.
I have known this for a while, but I still find myself declaring that a person has no good in them, or that a person cannot do any wrong, or that a person is too simple/stupid to have any depth to them. But this is never true. No matter how sure you are, you will always be wrong.
But what are layers? One one level, they are personalities for specific circumstances. I put on one layer of awkward introverted shyness for one social event, then change it to loud foolishness for another.  And everyone really has two general layers for this: one public and one private.
On another level, they are different personalities all together. One side of me wants to stay introverted and shy, but another part of me want social contact. As a result, I end up following both. One of my more intelligent friends has an entire congress of personalities that he controls, and it's plain to see that in his behavior.
On a third level, they are good and evil. Oftentimes the question is asked: Are people inherently good or bad? Well, the answer is that everyone is inherently both. Sometimes someone can appear to be a good person, but they have a bad side to them. And conversely, someone who you find to be despicable is actually a decent person on some level. There are a few of us who are farther out on the spectrum in either direction, but most of us lie in the middle, where we all have positive motives and all indulge in negative behavior. And our actions are used to judge us unfairly, as an act of compassion raises a reputation while an act of violence ruins it.
But something that is interesting about all of this is that, as we are all human, we all have similar amounts of depth to us. Some of us will waste this depth, others will fulfill its potential. In many ways, this is a better gauge for intelligence than just knowledge. If one could open the psyche of my friend with the congress of personalities and then open the mind of one unintelligent stoner that I know and map out their minds, they would be about the same size. The more intelligent person would be the one who puts these layers to good use.
But the point of this entire essay is just this: Don't just use a short blurb to describe someone.  No one word, sentence, or paragraph can be used to define a person, for nobody can be described in less than a novel. So the next time that you look at the world as a bunch of simplistic people with one dimension to their lives, just remember that our psyches, though varied, are all about the same size, and that the "mindless" commuter you see passing by is about as deep as you.

Remembering My Old Class

Yesterday I returned to the my high school, San Marin, to watch the sunrise. The photo 

I got was less than spectacular.

But that wasn't the highlight of this walk. The highlight was walking past my old computer apps class. Now, previously I mentioned that I was in this lousy class that introduced me to blogger. Well, I'm going to go in detail about it for a bit.

In this class, everyone sat around "working" on assignments. The class was filled with slackers who annoyed the hell out of everyone, and nobody took it seriously. But the teacher was something else. Mr. Farley, the wonderful teacher of this glorious class, could not teach at all. His method was just to lecture about what the application would do in the workplace, and then not bother explaining how it worked. In addition to this, when he decided to use discipline against the slackers, he ended up starting daily lectures about taking off hats. I couldn't take him seriously, and I hated that class, as these posts on my old blog indicate:

Final Reflection

Excel

Reflection 3

But I never got mad enough to barge out of the class. Even when one student sprayed silly string in my face, or Mr. Farley refused to help me while he was lecturing about chicken sandwiches, or when another student threw a can of soda at me, I held my tongue. But after walking by it today, I burst into a rant that I continued all the way home. And it reminded me how much I hated that class.

But it's over. That's the one good thing about it. It's all over.

Sunrises

For the past few months, I have had an obsession with sunrises. I personally find them to be the most beautiful part of the day, even better than sunsets. It's because with a sunset, you see the sun go down and then its over. With a sunrise, the sun rises and until about 8, depending on the weather, it stays beautiful.
But the biggest reason I have is that sunrises are so hard to reach. To see a sunset takes no effort at all. But to see a sunrise means that you have to readjust your sleep cycle to earlier in the morning, and unless you have a job that starts early, it's hard to do that. It's also hard to stay up to watch the sunrise, because it takes so very long and insomnia isn't exactly reliable. Plus, it makes you groggy during the day.
This is what I find so appealing about sunrises. For me, the hours I can be awake are usually from 7 AM to 4AM if I'm going all day and night. There's that one little window of time that I have a hard time reaching that is the most beautiful part of the day.
Hopefully I'll be able to readjust my sleep cycle to watch them for the rest of the month. But until I know if I succeeded at that, I'll just post this shot from this morning as motivation.

It's August!

Fuck!

Why is it already August? That leaves me with three weeks left of precious summer! Time is slipping away!

Whatever. It sucks. Nothing I can do.