JIZZ

This might seem like yet another innocent Craigslist posting for a champagne companion, but if you consider the line breaks, it is poetry:


My friend and i have great fun sex, and i would love to add to the mix
a fun lovely lady
very open to how and what
i can watch you two
you can watch us
or he watches us
either of us can host
have a glass a wine / champagne
and see where it goes
we don't normally get together till 11pm
we are attractive, fit, and safe
and want you to feel the same
send a pic share your fantasy
lets make it happen

Banger of the Minute!

Picture it: Gastown, 1999. I'm on my way to Sonar to see Q-Bert or the local DMC Elimination or some other turntable ish. Word on the street is DJ A-Trak, the then child prodigy turntablist would be doing an exhibition at the show.

Then:


On Carrall Street, I notice a solitary figure. A skinny lost looking teen, wearing an oversized t-shirt, baseball cap that makes him look like a cancer kid and backpack (two-straps the way only the backpackers did back then). It's A-Trak. Not the confident "sunglasses is a must" pussy-getter who drops simplistic club bangers today, but the uncool French-speaking teenager who used his Barmitzvah money to buy a set of turntables and then spent the next four years indoors nerding out to become one of the most technically proficient skratchers ever to be seen. The kid who always looked awkward raising his skinny stick arms out of his XL LRG shirt in his raise the roof (cuz that's how we did in 1999) pose after his set.

He was too young to hang out in the bar, only allowed in to perform his set. Now, he's on top of the world, having dropped the technicality and man on man masturbatory excitement of skratching for 4/4 beats and Lil Wayne samples (ladies be lovin' it). Now he wears cool fedoras and Fred perry shirts, hangs out with black guys and has one of those razors that Lenny Kravitz uses that makes it look like you got permanent 4 day beard growth. Now he's never alone when touring and the bottles pop along with the cherries.

Just remember, he invented a notation system for skratching and knows where Bambaataa got his breaks from - he ain't just another ugly dude with Serrato and some skinny jeans tucked into Dunks. It's all a mirage, he's a geek.

Now:

Banger of the Month!

The high school I went to was pretty much "Goth High". Oh sure, there were some hippies and punks, and in later days, some ravers attended, but for the most part, The Cure, Siousxie and Bauhaus t-shirts outnumbered even those that said Nirvana (Bleach-era, natch). Pearl Jam was an obnoxious joke at my too cool for school, school. People knew Nine Inch Nails for more than just that "Fuck You Like an Animal" song. I definitely wasn't into goth. It was too serious, and made drinking Slurpees and eating entire cans of Pringles impossible, or at least ridiculous (seriously, have you ever seen a goth drinking soda pop? I saw a head-to-toe-(including a fucking top hat)-black drinking Mountain Dew once, and the hypocrisy made me want to scream in his pasty white sombre face). Goth was always too serious and wrapped up in its own culture for me to take an interest. The furthest to the darkness I ever went was with Suicide and maybe that Shakespeare's Sister joint.

That's why it's surprising that I'm digging Zola Jesus. I feel it has a lot to do with her maturity and her seriousness. She's 20 or 21, comes from Wisconsin, got hooked up with Former Ghosts, and sounds little like her peers. Sure, the other girls may also evoke '80s themes, but they all do so in a clownish and mocking way, whereas Zola Jesus (not her name, but her moniker) is passionate and articulate on her jams. She makes musical music, and that's worth something. Most of the cuts off of Stridulum have an epic buildup that envisions me at the show with tears streaming down my face, fist pumping and head slowly swaying back and forth to the slow building crescendo and dénouement - I'm so angry at... everything.



Apparently she's a trained opera singer, but I don't really see the influence, as she doesn't seem to do any impressive breath control or over the top scales or whatever it is that an opera background would enable you to do. Sure, her voice is haunting and she can hold a note, and it can leave you with chills, but it's not operatic. Youtube (Broadcast Yourself), has videos of her recent performance at SXSW, but her show was outdoors, in the daytime, and in the blazing sun. The irony is too much for me. If you're serious about your goth, it should be too much for you too.

The Lowest Form

Most people think that the lowest form of comedy is mime. It's not.

The lowest form of comedy is repeating a joke or catchphrase from TV or a movie (I'm excluding the internet 'cause it ain't the same).

Think when someone says, "I'm on a boat!" or does Borat. The lowest.








* in looking for pictures of mimes for this post, I have to admit - a lot of them made me laugh. I find musical comedy way lower than most of the mimes, comedywise.

Funkmaster Flex Spins the '90s

http://funkmasterflex.podomatic.com/

Don't watch the video version of this. The effect is ruined when Funk starts wilin' out with, "Listen to me, New York – OK?! I’m not in the 90’s on some MTV videos or some VH1 nonsense, OK?!" and, "I did NOT come up here to play Hammer and Young MC! This is not what this is!" and you see he's smiling. On the audio only, he sounds angry and irrational, which is realer (mo' real).

Thanks to this, your neck will be getting quite a work out. No homo.

"Put each hand on the strap of your backpack and bop your head uncontrollably... Jansport!"

Tragicomic

Shit, are you up on this saga?

It's so funny, yet so sad, because you know this can only end in a murder/suicide. Or just a suicide. Or a murder.

On his previous video, he entertains the concept of the redheaded "race".