Beach Ustream

                Jacob Steinberg and Spencer Madsen came together one Sunday night for poetry. Usually Sunday nights are dedicated to football. Poetry is better than football. Fuck football. On June 19^th we had the explicit pleasure of witnessing this New York duo read online. Jupiter, Florida was their location, specifically a house roughly six miles away from the beach. To make the occasion even more special Spencer quit his job in a dramatic fashion and high-tailed it down to Steinberg’s house. You know, because poetry ought to be this dramatic, especially on the beach. 

                Beach Poetry could become a possible genre. Spencer Madsen wrote poems on the beach, making them ‘beach poetry’ or, as Frank Hinton put it ‘shoretry’. As Spencer spent a great deal of time in Florida, he overheard children’s conversations. Florida conversations by children tend to be a bit ridiculous. Somehow the mixture of tacky culture alongside a lack of any intellectual rigor (as per Spencer, nobody cares about art in Miami) makes it one of the wealthiest pieces of trash in the entire country if not the world. 

                I like how Spencer and Jacob tore apart Miami artists. That was fantastic. Each one completed the other’s thought about the sheer uselessness of the artists there, particularly one such idiot who wanted to call his gallery “Formalism” as he thought that would be the most radical name for it. Personally I’m amazed artists even live in Miami. Usually I figure artists move to Miami, no actual art originates from that location. How both Spencer and Jacob manage to survive in such a hostile, difficult, and stupid environment is beyond me. At least those mediocre artists paid for this duo’s sushi. So they had some value: transferring money to worthy poets. 

                Spencer read a poem from “Let People Poems”. He welcomed us to his poem. After we had been brought into the poem’s space, he began. I’m a big fan of Let People Poems. Reading about a sad human feels realistic. What I hope is someday Spencer finds ‘true love’. Or at the very least that he gets to ride his bike with someone sweet. 

                “Porn” Jackson Nieuwland’s chapbook received attention. For his poem Jackson focused on the importance of cuddling. Cuddling is a lost art form. As Jackson often focuses on the fantastic-ness of the world this feels like a logical place for him to explore. I’m amazed he managed to send his chapbook all the way to Mr. Steinberg’s address in Florida. Guess porn moves quickly. Jacob read it with his characteristic swag. As a bonus, he read his poems on “NewWaveVomit” as well. That was not all he needed to let out.

                Upon Jacob showing off his pink underwear and one rib, Spencer began reading. They had a ‘relay race’ poetry reading. “Brief Interviews with Hideous Men” interested Spencer. As these were small pieces it fit in nicely to the poetry selections. David Foster Wallace wrote this book, a collection of 23 short stories. I miss him and feel a bit strange that “The Pale King” even got published as it is a bit of an ‘incomplete’ book of his. 

                I liked the focus on Julio Cortazar. Jacob translated these poems along with reading them. Apparently no one has bothered to translate his work into English, or precious little of it. Both Jacob Steinberg and Stephen Tully Dierks happen to be huge fans of this writer. Hopefully I can find more of it at some point, it is fantastic. 

                To show they were open to more experimental forms of prose they read “TLC’s” song “Waterfalls”. Or rather, Jacob did not read this, he felt it. I remember where I was when I first heard “Waterfalls”. For me, this song spoke volumes to me. Grade school suddenly became comprehensible with the help of this magnificent group. Suddenly everything in my life gained meaning thanks to TLC and this song in particular. 

                “Thought Catalog” came up. Spencer read his rejected article. “How to want to quit your Job” was the name of his article. In it he described in vivid detail about the dread of facing your job. Each bit mentioned the alarm clock, shower, train, bus, and thinking about the difference between you at home versus you at your workplace. Hearing him mention the tiniest of details convinces me people may be interested in the anguish of a workplace. Somehow I made it through five years with trepidation about such uncomfortable conversations with bosses.  

                Spencer will be coming out with a book. 95% of everything he’s ever written on the internet shall be removed. All of a sudden he’ll restart his brand (known as ‘rebranding’ by Impossible Mike) and become a new internet person. I think this is great idea. The book (entitled ‘A Million Bears’) will bring Spencer Madsen the poetry groupies he’s always wanted. 

                Carolyn DeCarlo had her poem read. This gets extremely explicit. While I’d like to explain what happens in the poem, I don’t want to ruin it. Details help build the scene and contribute to the mood of the poem. Eventually the focus shifts away from the individual’s perspective on pleasure to helping others. 

                “Goldfish” talked about the stupidity of fish. Jacob thought the Goldfish had it easy. They don’t remember anything. Instead of engaging or remembering things they manage to live in the moment, not experiencing pain. Love can copy this fleeting moment. Having these intense emotions means you often forget about the past and hope for the best future. 

                We watched as Spencer and Jacob bore their very souls at the end. Seeing the two of them bond at the end helped me understand how important words can be. These two were brought together by a love of the word. Now I hope to see them do future ustreams as this unstoppable poetic force. Perhaps they might even bring some semblance of intelligence to the most vapid state in the union but that may be asking too much.

When will the “Gloss Drop” by Battles?

                Battles helped me through 2007, one of the first years I had at work. Each time I re-visit “Mirrored” I think about the first time I truly felt independent. What I liked about Battles was how many different, somehow difficult snobbish genres into a likable whole. Usually I found myself forcing experimental music onto people. Now that Battles existed, I had a good ‘starting point’ to help people begin explorations of weirder genres like Post-Rock, Math Rock, or Experimental Rock. Certainly it helped when I tried to get people into Don Caballero. 

                People liked their sense of humor. For a purely instrumental band to have such a well-developed humor is rare. Trans Am had this as well, though Battles avoided that level of irony. Songs like “Atlas” and “Tonto” were full of life. They managed to both rock and experimentation with certain silliness. Actually, this used to be a lot more commonplace. Frank Zappa and Captain Beefheart would be the two best examples of humor walking hand-in-hand with musical experimentation. I don’t know what happened to that sense of giddy discovery, but there seems to have been a halt to such things happening for the most part, at least on American soil in US-based bands. 

                Battles were here to defeat the po-faced experimental snobs. I thought how wonderful it was Battles broke down this wall between the two concepts. Countless times they visited New York City, usually for free. Each and every time I missed them, due to conflicts with time and space. As I heard they were releasing a second album, I grew excited at the prospect of it. Figuring they would be back, I felt happy. Gloss would drop. 

                Well, Battles are going to every place on Earth except New York. Shoot, they are even headed to Iowa City before they get to New York. I don’t want to say I’m insulted but I sort of am. Also, Tyondai Braxton, the wonderful guy who did the awesome electronic tricks (such as the vocal distortions on “Atlas”) has left the group as well. For a little while I wondered what kind of sound Battles might have without him, as I enjoyed his contributions. Tyondai brought levity to a group of people more familiar with Post-Rock than anything approaching fun.

                Some things never change. Warp Records still does an extremely poor job of preventing leaks. I don’t know why they are so terrible at it. Perhaps the fan boy network which grew up listening to Autechre has taught their offspring how to pirate music.  Whatever the reason may be, you can’t ignore that “Gloss Drop” leaked so badly morons who still use KaZaa could find it. The leak coming out so early boded well. Bands who leak early are generally beloved enough and the album worth it enough, particularly if the leak is of high sound quality. 

                How’s the album? It is still fun. After giving it a listen-through it will make “Best New Music”. I mean, there are members of the Boredoms at work on here. Will it get above its last score on Pitchfork? Considering they last got a 9.1 I doubt it. I think it is a good album but not as good or revolutionary. They basically hone their craft on here and continue to have fun. Pitchfork will probably give this album somewhere in the low to middle 8s for it. Most realistically it’ll get an 8.4 which appears to be their default best new music score. Everyone will remain happy if slightly disappointed at Battles’ inability to innovate beyond their original sound.

                An album roughly as good as a debut is nothing to worry over. Considering the quality contained within, it is still something I imagine will get trapped in my brain. I’d recommend it. Every second there’s about 80 different things happening. The prog rock tendencies haven’t been tempered. Just think of it as a polished version of their first album and you’ll be fine.

Training Boys and Training Girls

               Well, you see, when you reach a certain age you begin noticing certain changes. Your voice gets deeper and you discover hair in places you didn’t really pay attention to before. Now those places happen to be more interesting than they were before, you’re not really sure why. This is just a part of growing up. Also, you’re an asshole to your parents most of the time yet they tolerate it. Congratulations, you’re a teenager.

                The teenage stage exists in life as something you can look back and say “Well, at least I got to be an asshole with no negative consequences for roughly seven years”. While you’re busy being a repugnant jerk you want love. You want someone to be attracted to you, either physically, mentally, or spiritually (I don’t know if the last one is something which attracts people, maybe that works for Mormons).

                Anyway, everyone goes through this phase. You find someone. Maybe you’re lucky and it is that special someone. Generally speaking, it isn’t. It is usually someone who you’re able to tolerate more than most people yet isn’t a friend of yours. They are something more, something special.

                I remember when this happened to me. Sitting in a crowded room learning Chinese, I saw her. She sat next to me since I was the only other teenager taking beginner’s Chinese. The rest of the class was made up of small children who already spoke Chinese and were taking the class to make me feel stupid, like I should have already known this information. As she sat down, I thought:

                “She looks so cool.”

                Her dress came out of the seventies. When she spoke to me, she had this positively sweet voice. It sounded educated. The education of countless schools I’ve never heard of nor attended. As she wrote down the Pinyin, she wrote down phonetic pronunciations next to next word. Before she left, I asked her what her name was. She told me Sam. I wished I had asked for her phone number, but I forgot to and kicked myself for it.

                One year later her friend Cat approached me. Cat said Sam found me interesting and wanted my email. I had almost forgotten about her. After I gave her my email address, she looked at me like I was crazy. It was such a terrible email address; I’m embarrassed I even had it as an email address.

                Sam emailed me the most articulate proposal for a date ever. I responded with coffee at Starbucks. After I figured out how to get uptown to some previously unknown super-rich area we drank coffee and chatted. While I sat there, she wanted me to ask her questions and pressed me to tell her about myself. Once I finished my coffee, I got back on the train back home. 

Looking at a giant Citibank tower growing out of nowhere as the train came out of the tunnel, I figured I failed. That was the worst experience I had in my entire life. I got home, checked my email, and saw she wanted to meet again. Her emails showed off a certain flair for writing. Mine showed the ability to construct a sentence utilizing basic grammar. 

Together we trained each other. Neither one of us had been in a relationship before. Each one of us overcame certain problems. I learned how to deal with a father who thought I was a worthless idiot though her mother was nicer. She learned the importance of flattering parents with literary references. Her parents thought I was cute though. My parents liked her, but when they first saw her they said “I thought she’d be prettier than that.” Even at that early point in my life, I had learned the important skill of hype. We taught each other all of these important skills and more. 

But it wasn’t meant to be. We grated on one another’s nerves. I didn’t like how she had been to Tibet but didn’t know how to get to Chinatown in lower Manhattan. Our politics clashed. I told her I loved her. Sam said she liked me. From that experience, I learned love is a strong word and like isn’t. Finally, after countless stabs at trying to ignore the other’s relentless ambition to get a perfect SAT score, the other’s ability to laugh through the entire duration of “A Walk to Remember”, and other larger problems we broke it off. 

We broke up over the phone. As she kept on hinting around the idea of breaking up, I bluntly asked:

“Are you trying to break up with me?”

She answered:

“Would you be upset if I said yes?”

I said:

“No, I wouldn’t. You’re free to choose whatever you want.”

The last thing I heard of her voice was:

“Thank you. You’re really nice.” Then she cried a little on the phone before she hung up. 

Everyone has a training boy or a training girl. That way, as you grow older, you’re not a twenty-something who has never been in a relationship. You’re someone who has loved and lost. Maybe next time you’ll be better. Next time things will work out longer. Wait, you’ll see.    

Can a MEME run for President?

               America’s come a long way since the 1950s. Since then, we’ve become a more open society. People are more accepting of an individual’s quirks. In fact, entire movies (Rushmore) and shows (Freaks & Geeks) celebrate individuals who are unable to be easily pigeonholed. But we still have a way to go before everyone becomes truly equal.

                Of course, I’m talking about Donald Trump’s potential run for Republican nominee in 2012. He’s pretty much become a MEME everyone knows, whether or not you’re addicted to the internet. “Celebrity Apprentice” shows off his flair and brash, uncompromising attitude towards those Hollywood elites, the “Left Coast”, most people in general and so on. Transcending media, he’s inspired countless douchebags to enter the field of real estate, hence the housing crisis we’re currently facing. 

                What will it take for Donald Trump to get the nomination? Will he have to buy everyone in Iowa and New Hampshire a mid-sized luxury sedan? Perhaps that might not be enough. His name has been used as a punch-line in New York and all over the country for literally decades. New York might be the only part of the country which can tolerate his extravagant ridiculousness, the gold-plated toilet being one example. 

                Despite his obvious brashness and appallingly dreadful haircut, he does have some things going for him. For one, he’s declared bankruptcy a lot. If he becomes President, he’d probably be able to help the United States default on all its loans. Then somehow, we’d post a record profit. Honestly I doubt we’re going to be able to pay back that money. Instead we can have a ‘strategic default’ where we don’t have to go through any pain. Countries might decide not to deal with us, but that might also have to do with Donald Trump being our President.

                The world would have much warmer relations with the US as a result of a Trump presidency. France and the US would become closer due to Trump’s promiscuous habits. Most of Europe would enjoy his complete lack of any sort of religious experience and a lack of even pretending to care about religion. Eastern Europe would adore him, since nearly all his wives have been of Eastern European extraction. Finally, we’d have a first lady who had previously been a model. Our ascension into new levels of cool would be complete. 

                Donald Trump’s policy promises wouldn’t really be anything, since he’s fairly amorphous. Sadly, this might doom him in any kind of primary. At CPAC this year half the audience loved The Donald and the other half booed him. Sure, he pretends to have normal Republican views, such as Pro-Life, Anti-Gun Control, but even among these are stranger ones. Going with a libertarian bent, he claims the US should get out of Iraq and Afghanistan along with an Anti-Foreign aid position for good measure. 

                Being a MEME, he’ll be fun. That is a guarantee. Showing up for a roast on Comedy Central shows he’s in touch with the jokes people could throw at him. By now, he has literally heard whatever insult people could hurl at him. Donald has thick skin, so you can get pretty creative in mocking him nearly endlessly. Plus, all the jokes at his expense mean he oddly has name recognition.

                President Trump would be a lot of fun. First, all states would get the word “Trump” added in to increase real estate values, like “Trump Hampshire” or “Trumpchusetts”. Despite no actual improvement done other than the name addition, the single act of adding the name will improve re-sale values. Look at the various buildings he’s slapped his name onto, somehow people are willing to pay more for a building named after him. And those same people even know who he is and his appearance. Logically, it shouldn’t make sense but it works. 

                Though Trump would reject European-style health care, he’d embrace European-style partying. Suddenly, our days of being a place where people have weak parties will end. Working with both Democrats and Republicans, he’ll manage to amend the constitution mandating all parties last at least two nights at a bare minimum. His first act in office will be the inaugural ball, which will last roughly two weeks of non-stop partying. It’ll be similar to Andrew Jackson’s party, except the White House will be more destroyed. While Obama did open up the entire National Mall for the party, Trump will use all of Maryland, Virginia and North Carolina as part of his sprawling, decadent party. After Trump’s inaugural party is over, it’ll add roughly $2 billion but everyone will agree it was totally worth it.

                I don’t think Trump will win the nomination if he does run. Sadly, most people in America enjoy electing dishonest people who promise great things. Looking at Donald’s face and listening to his words, I see no evidence whatsoever of lying. Here’s a person who has no filter. Whatever he is thinking he will say. Debates would create new ways of putting people down. Putting people down is an art form for the Donald, he’s the Pollock of hurling insults onto blank faces. 

                Let’s hope he gets the nomination. After watching so many boring nominations, I want something entertaining. Ron Paul was a good start, but Mr. Trump might the logical endpoint for our hyperbolic political culture. MEME for President!