Great Lakes Lesser Cities

San Francisco Chronicle Has Had Wrong Prop 8 Headline Up For Almost A Day

2009-05-27T10:37:00.004-06:00

Does anyone know what Prop 9 is? Some mysterious initiative that strips everyone of protest rights? I don't know. Maybe the Chron laid off all the online editors? I took this screenshot yesterday at 5:18, and the page is still up here, with the same headline, as of 9:40 a.m. PST on Wednesday.

A Harbinger of the End of the Online Commenting Free-for-All?

2009-05-18T12:38:00.002-06:00

According to an article that appeared in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch on Saturday, a judge told a local paper in Alton, Ill., that they must disclose the identities of two anonymous online commentors (a new word?) who posted their thoughts on the beating death of a 5 year old. The judge found that the two posted information that might help the murder investigation.

The Alton Telegraph tried to quash the subpoenas for the commentors' identities by asserting Illinois' journalism shield law, which protects anonymous sources, but the judge axed that attempt.

This reaffirms an adage that most journalists (and probably all lawyers) should know, and likely know already: When it comes to electronic communications, you are never anonymous, and there is no privacy.

New York Times Graphic: 'Roid Rage Responsible for Yankees - Red Sox Rivalry?

2009-05-08T10:38:00.002-06:00

According to the Times, "For those keeping score, six of the key participants in those two series ['03 and '04 ALCS] have been linked to the use of performance-enhancing drugs."

Like Ants Scurrying Under the Magnifying Glass

2009-04-24T12:26:00.001-06:00

Byline Beast of N.Y.: Times’ Sewell Chan Racks Up 422 in Year

On average, if you pick up a copy of The New York Times, Mr. Chan’s name will appear in it 1.15 times. Since he debuted in The Times in November 2004—with a contributor’s credit on a story about the lowering of terror-threat levels—Mr. Chan, now 28 years old, has recorded more than 600 credits. He has covered Hurricane Katrina, the transit strike, the Lake George boating disaster and the fine print of the municipal budget. “He’s a terrific reporter,” said former metro editor Susan Edgerley, who hired Mr. Chan away from The Washington Post. “He’s hugely energetic. He’s curious, smart. He loves coming to work every day. He’s a joy to have in the newsroom.”

More on Reporting v. Blogging

2009-04-12T15:39:00.003-06:00

I just read an S.F. Chronicle article from about a week ago that relates to my post on Herb Caen from yesterday. According to reporter Joe Garofoli, savvy Bay Area politicians are courting local and statewide bloggers to further their political ambitions.

A couple money quotes:

It's a relationship bloggers and politicos think can be mutually beneficial - particularly for the candidate, as the relationship is largely free of the adversarial pushback pols receive from traditional media.

And:

While there are bloggers who break news, most do not consider themselves journalists in the traditional sense, but rather opinion-makers who sometimes report. Many are partisans, political geeks who, if they're not tapped into the local political party apparatus, are hardwired into online networks of like-minded people.

Lastly:

Many bloggers see themselves as serving an adjunct function to journalists. Sure, Brian Leubitz regularly breaks news on the Calitics blog he founded ( www.calitics.com). "But then a (traditional media) reporter will pick it up and do the reporting that I don't necessarily want to do," Leubitz says.

I seem to recall Garofoli as a writer for SF Weekly, though I may be wrong. He appears to have imbued this article with his own grizzled pride at being a "traditional" journalist. I have to say I'm with him on that.

Herb Caen as Prototype Blogger

2009-04-11T15:20:00.003-06:00

Herb Caen once told his "legman," the guy who does all of a great columnist's grunt work, that he was ruining Caen's items by doing too much reporting.

That's the irony that stood out to me in this Sunday S.F. Chronicle piece by Jesse Hamlin, who wrote about being Caen's legman from 1979 into the 1980s.

When I started with him in '79, I was too thorough of a reporter, in a way; Herb said I was asking too many questions and killing items. He wanted just enough confirmation to verify the basic story.

Far be it from me to critique Caen, a master of his craft. Caen probably worked harder on each of his columns than I have thus far in my journalism career.

But his philosophy, the need to get just enough for a juicy item, smells to me like what most mainstream bloggers do on the Web today.

What I see in too many bloggers today is a readiness to mouth off on rumors and news events without doing any independent reporting. If traditional journalism gradually crumbles to a hard, indestructible core, the act of making enough calls to dependable sources to flesh out the truth will be what remains. That's the difference between most of us and them.

Caen had his sources, but he didn't need to get to the bottom of the story. That wasn't his gig - didn't need to be. In those days, the Chronicle probably had enough of a staff to get the real news out.

Beware of Salted Prunes

2009-02-15T22:55:00.006-06:00

This little sonuvabitch caused some trouble around the old apartment recently.

It claims to consist solely of salt and prunes. You might as well put a label on the atom bomb that says "Ingredients: Plutonium."

Also: It has "pit fragments." Bullshit. It has pits, period.

A Song and a Self-Congratulatory Backslap

2009-02-12T02:26:00.002-06:00

Check out an mp3 of Radiohead's Grammy performance with the USC marching band.

Also, I was reading old blog posts, and I stumbled across this one I wrote on Oct. 1:

I would be surprised if McCain wins this election. In the end, I predict an Obama near-landslide, along the lines of a 53-47 popular vote split, if not more. If you look at the Bush-Kerry electoral map from 2004, it seems clear that Obama can turn key states: New Mexico, Iowa, Ohio, Virginia, Indiana, Florida. If Obama can't pull this off, then I have serious questions about the rationality of the American voter.

The final tally: Barack Obama - 66,882,230 53% John McCain - 58,343,671 46%

Damn you Nader voters for screwing up my prediction! But seriously, thank God I was right. Also, the states Obama flipped from Bush to blue? New Mexico, Iowa, Ohio, Virginia, Indiana, Florida (and North Carolina, Colorado and Nevada).

Looking Back

2009-01-20T17:08:00.002-06:00

Maybe now is not the time to be thinking about W., but this brief Vanity Fair story written by a guy who was college friends with one of Bush's daughters and invited several times to the White House is a great read.

One month after the worst attack in U.S. history, George W. Bush watched a 100-minute-long Anthony Hopkins film called Hearts in Atlantis.

It is an awful movie, and as it drags on I feel increasingly uneasy. Surely the president should be doing something else. Occasionally he gets a phone call from Andy Card, his chief of staff, who, as I understand it, is in the West Wing meeting with the head of the F.A.A. to determine when Washington’s Reagan National Airport will be safe to completely re-open (some flights began operating earlier in the week). Each time the phone rings, I hope the president will excuse himself to join them. But he doesn’t. Over the phone, the president tells the men to “get that airport opened up!” and then heads to bed.

Notes on Obama's Inauguration

2009-01-20T11:40:00.008-06:00

-Welp, I think the Iranians proved today that they're prepared to dislike just about anybody.

-Potential Daily Show headlines? "Obama Sworn In; Sen. Kennedy Stricken by Seizure; Dow Drops 300 Points; Supreme Court Chief Justice and President Both Bungle Most Historic Oath of Office in History". It's only fair, right?

-NY Times liveblog is like a treasure trove of hilarious:

The Bushes Depart | 12:56 p.m. The helicopter steps are folded up. The blade begins to rotate. The Obamas and Bidens are standing still, holding each other’s hands, as they watch the helicopter rev up. We now have lift-off; the Bushes have left the Capitol at 12:55 — almost half an hour ahead of time. The Obamas wave.

The helicopter is swinging out over the Mall first instead of heading directly to Andrews. Surely the Bushes can’t hear the crowd below, but the chant is one that sports fans jeer to the opposing team: “Na Na Na Na/Na Na Na Na/Hey Hey Hey/Good-bye.”

-Did Chief Justice John Roberts flub the oath of office? Investigating. Maybe he was pissed that Obama voted against him and was the president of the Harvard Law Review, while Roberts was only managing editor. Update:Obama has retaken the oath out of "an abundance of caution."

-This from the NY Times story "For City Used to Pomp, a Legend is Born": "'Today, we’re hoping to see history,' Anad Thomas, a 32-year-old nurse from Westchester County, N.Y., said as she rode down 16th Street on a crowded bus just before 7 a.m. Her personal survival kit included peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and plenty of tissues, along with a camera."

NOOOOO Anad! Don't eat the peanut butter!!

Ted's Top 26 Songs of 2008

2008-12-17T11:24:00.004-06:00

It's nearing the end of the year and that means finals (boo) and end-of-the-year best-of lists (yay). The following is a list of my favorite songs of 2008, but it is not necessarily indicative of my favorite artists or albums of 2008. So, without further ado, here are my top 26 songs of 2008, in no particular order:

- "Electric Feel" by MGMT (Oracular Spectacular)
- "The Most Beautiful Girl In The Room (Album Version)" by Flight of the Conchords (Flight of the Conchords)
- "Shove It (Switch Remix)" by Santogold (I Believe In Santogold EP)
- "He Doesn't Know Why" by Fleet Foxes (Fleet Foxes)
- "Let The Beat Build" by Lil' Wayne (Tha Carter III)
- "Golden Age" by TV On The Radio (Dear Science)
- "Chemtrails" by Beck (Modern Guilt)
- "For Emma" by Bon Iver (For Emma, Forever Ago)
- "Violet Hill" by Coldplay (Viva La Vida or Death And All His Friends)
- "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa" by Vampire Weekend (Vampire Weekend)
- "The Rip" by Portishead (Third)
- "Mikey Rocks" by The Cool Kids (The Bake Sale)
- "Trick For Treat" by Neon Neon (Stainless Style)
- "Evil Urges" by My Morning Jacket (Evil Urges)
- "A Little Better" by Gnarls Barkley (The Odd Couple)
- "Gila" by Beach House (Devotion)
- "Control" by Kid Sister (Scion CD Sampler Vol. 22: Fool's Gold Remixed)
- "Oil" by Jonny Greenwood (There Will Be Blood OST)
- "Mykonos" by Fleet Foxes (Sun Giant EP)
- "Grounds For Divorce" by Elbow (The Seldom Seen Kid)
- "Circus of Horror" by Quiet Village (Silent Movie)
- "Dance Wiv Me" by Dizzee Rascal (Dance Wiv Me Single)
- "A Milli" by Lil' Wayne (Tha Carter III)
- "Sentimental Heart" by She & Him (Volume One)
- "Still Here" by Girl Talk (Feed The Animals)
- "Kamphopo" by The Very Best (The Very Best Mixtape)

Baghdad by the Bay

2008-12-08T19:53:00.002-06:00

According to the SF Crime blog, San Francisco has surpassed 100 murders for 2008. If you believe the blog, this is the second straight year of 100 murders in the city (the SFPD recorded only 98 in 2007). The 104 murders recorded to date by SF Crime is the highest amount since the 104 reported in 1995.

It might be interesting at this bloody moment in SF to recount an August column by C.W. Nevius in the San Francisco Chronicle:

In July 2004, Mayor Gavin Newsom was confronted by a morning radio show caller who complained about the homicide rate. Newsom's flip reply was that if homicide rates didn't drop in a year, the caller could "begin a campaign to recall me. And you know what? I may be right there as a co-signer of that effort."

When it comes to wisecracks the mayor wishes he never said, that has to be at the top of the list.

Oligarchy or Democracy?

2008-12-04T18:54:00.003-06:00

San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsom has produced a seven-and-a-half hour State of the City address that is being presented in various "webisodes" on YouTube. This is all you need to know about it:

Why I Love Jon Stewart

2008-10-02T23:26:00.000-06:00

Palin Redux

2008-10-01T00:24:00.004-06:00

You need not have been following the presidential race closely to know that the Republicans' nomination of Sarah Palin for vice president was, at best, a laughable attempt to win the support of voters who supported Hillary Clinton while, at the same time, lighting a firecracker beneath the red-meat conservative base.

I could cite the interview she gave to Charlie Gibson of ABC News, but I already wrote about that. Her recent stints with Katie Couric of CBS have sufficed to let the average viewer know that Palin is utterly unqualified to hold any position of authority in the federal government, much less Vice President of the United States, and far much less President of the United States. Can you imagine? I cannot.

Here we have a woman who has displayed an incomprehensible lack of knowledge about world affairs, who has come up lamentably short even in the eyes of some of the softest pundits seeking to give her every benefit of the doubt, and who cannot say whether she reads a single newspaper.

Some have ascribed her suffering at the hand of the press to sexism, but that, frankly, is a joke. If a woman does not know what she is talking about, does not understand what Hamas represents, does not know what a $700 billion government bailout of the financial industry entails, then she is not suffering from sexism, she is quite simply not smart enough to occupy the second most important, or possibly the most important office in the most powerful nation in the world.

In what was apparently an actual interview, Palin was asked on Tuesday, "Governor, your candidacy has ignited extreme hostility, even some hatred on the left and in some parts of the media. Are you surprised? And what do you attribute this reaction to?" (I should mention that Hugh Hewitt, a hilariously partisan writer, conducted this interview.)

Palin responded: "Oh, I think they’re just not used to someone coming in from the outside saying you know what? It’s time that normal Joe six-pack American is finally represented in the position of vice presidency, and I think that that’s kind of taken some people off guard, and they’re out of sorts, and they’re ticked off about it, but it’s motivation for John McCain and I to work that much harder to make sure that our ticket is victorious, and we put government back on the side of the people of Joe six-pack like me, and we start doing those things that are expected of our government, and we get rid of corruption, and we commit to the reform that is not only desired, but is deserved by Americans. "

And that would be funny, if she wasn't a nominee for vice president, because she can't even give a straight answer to the ultimate softball question of all softball questions. Americans deserve more than "Joe six-pack American" in the office of vice president. Here's a question: If you needed heart surgery, would you ask your sister? If you needed investment advice, would you ask your girlfriend? If you wanted to understand the political atmosphere in the Middle East, would you ask your aunt? These are not sexist questions. If Sarah Palin wants to position herself as a hockey mom, a pitbull with lipstick, an average Joe six-pack, then why can't we question whether we want such mediocrity in the position of ultimate power?

Hewitt also asked: "Now governor, the Gibson and the Couric interview struck many as sort of pop quizzes designed to embarrass you as opposed to interviews. Do you share that opinion?"

Palin said: "Well, I have a degree in journalism also, so it surprises me that so much has changed since I received my education in journalistic ethics all those years ago. But I’m not going to pick a fight with those who buy ink by the barrelful. I’m going to take those shots and those pop quizzes and just say, “That’s okay.” Those are good testing grounds. And they can continue on in that mode. That’s good. That makes somebody work even harder. It makes somebody be even clearer and more articulate in their positions. So really I don’t fight it. I invite it."

First of all, the Gibson and Couric interviews were just about as kind as they could possibly be. But what really gets me about that exchange is Palin's response, because according to her own Wikipedia page, Palin spent one semester at Hawaii Pacific University in 1982, transferred to North Idaho College to spend two semesters in a "general studies" program, transferred to the University of Idaho for two semesters (during which time she won her beauty pageant), for whatever reason transferred again to Matanuska-Susitna College in Alaska for a "term," then finally came back to the University of Idaho for three semesters, eventually earning her BS in communications-journalism in 1987. So not only are her journalism credentials questionable, at best, it appears that her college education as a whole doesn't even qualify her for Teach for America, much less vice president.

Sarah Palin is now holed away in Sedona, Ariz., being briefed by operatives from the McCain campaign and awaiting her date with Joe Biden on Thursday for the vice presidential debate. If her interviews are any indication, Palin will fail miserably. Yet ideologues will still attribute her failure to the "liberal" press, to commentators who aren't yet ready for a powerful, "average" woman to come into great political power.

At this stage, though journalists must remain neutral, commentators and pundits must be honest with themselves, and with the American people. Just because the McCain campaign accuses you of being "in the tank" because you're skeptical, doesn't mean you're doing wrong. In fact, it probably means you're doing right.

I would be surprised if McCain wins this election. In the end, I predict an Obama near-landslide, along the lines of a 53-47 popular vote split, if not more. If you look at the Bush-Kerry electoral map from 2004, it seems clear that Obama can turn key states: New Mexico, Iowa, Ohio, Virginia, Indiana, Florida. If Obama can't pull this off, then I have serious questions about the rationality of the American voter.

Palin and the Campaign

2008-09-12T01:12:00.001-06:00

If you're a Democrat, especially one who believes that salvation is riding on the back of Barack Obama, then you might have felt a little shiver after Sarah Palin delivered her biting acceptance speech at the Republican National Convention. The days following the RNC have been filled with McCain campaign attacks, culminating in the recent, completely misleading brouhaha over Obama's "lipstick" comment. (Look it up, I refuse to discuss it.) In situations like this, with their presidential candidate constantly on the defensive and suffering beneath a barrage of Republican talking points, Democrats inevitably do what they do best: Freak out and self-flagellate.

But, from what I see, the Obama campaign is actually in a good position. And Obama's counselors, known among journalists for their cool professionalism and self-discipline, don't seem to be freaking out. Here's why: After Republicans put on their biggest event of the election cycle, the RNC, and introduced a vice presidential candidate who can best be described as the juiciest of juicy steaks for right-wing conservatives, the McCain bounce in national polls drew him into a dead heat with Obama. That bears repeating: Barring some dramatic, unpredictable turn of events in the next one-and-a-half months, the McCain campaign has enjoyed their biggest bump in the polls, and all they've done is pulled even with Obama nationally.

It's important to note the word "nationally." Included in such a poll, obviously, are voters in the South, as well as the Mountain West, two regions that I think most people would say are locks for any Republican presidential campaign these days. Yet McCain is only even with Barack Obama. Obama's operatives, because they're smart, can only be encouraged by this. As David Broder noted - coming via the Wonkette post I linked to above - the Obama campaign is playing the electoral college. They don't need to win the South and Mountain West. They need to win Pennsylvania, Ohio, Michigan, Iowa and perhaps Florida and Colorado. I'd be interested to look at the polls coming from those states.

Meanwhile, Palin's honeymoon has begun to come to an end. Realizing that they couldn't sequester their VP pick in an undisclosed location until Nov. 4, as they might prefer, the McCain campaign let Charlie Gibson go at Palin in her first big, unscripted TV interview since being nominated. Things didn't go super well. Liberal blogs are playing up the fact, perhaps rightly so, that Palin stumbled and evaded Gibson's questions, often repeating certain phrases, mantra-like, over and over. This is in spite of the fact that she was coached by some of the biggest Republican political operatives for weeks. I expect that her failure to address several questions head on - including her childlike attempt to escape a discussion of the "Bush Doctrine" - will get play in the mainstream media. The Washington Post already has a front-page story for Friday about Palin linking Iraq to Al-Qaeda at a speech she gave recently at her son's military base.

So now the tide begins to turn. Right wing stalwarts such as William Kristol and the National Review have turned defensive. Just as Democrats tend to form circular firing squads when things don't go their way, Republicans resort to their own time-tested strategy: blaming the media. Even for a nonpartisan such as myself, there's a delicious irony in reading Kristol whine about the Washington Post "distorting" Palin's Iraq comments, considering how easily he and his cohorts resort to distortions when criticizing Democratic candidates. Turnabout is fair play, and Kristol should know.

It will be interesting to see if the McCain campaign releases Palin from her media exile, or if they interpret the ABC Gibson interview as a failure and squirrel her away for more briefings. I'm sure they'd like to do the latter, but I think the consequences are probably too great. It looks like a lose-lose scenario for the campaign, because it's now clear that Palin is going to get criticized by the press, yet has to go before the press, and at the same time apparently can't handle the questions put by the press, even with weeks of intensive political education.

All Hail the Fake Olympics

2008-08-12T11:17:00.003-06:00

For those of us who never believed that China could pull off the Olympics without doing something that made everyone go, "Ohhhh, right, you're still kind of scary Communists," some validating press reports have been popping up recently.

Here's the LA Times blogging a round-up of the most obvious chicanery:

-Fake fireworks in the opening ceremony
-Fake voice for the little singing girl
-Fake wind for the flags (I noticed that one but wasn't really that upset. Flags need to wave, you know?)

And the New York Times with a longer look.

America: Prudency Isn't Our Middle Name

2008-06-12T08:42:00.001-06:00

Tax Checks Yield Surprising Growth in Retail Sales - NY Times

Or, roughly translated: Even Wall Street didn't think Americans would spend their money that quickly.

New Ratatat Album - "LP3"

2008-06-07T12:33:00.001-06:00

Here's a few tracks from Ratatat's new album. Definitely one to listen to on headphones, or at least in a place where you can enjoy the sweet production. Probably good even if you're just blasting it, too.

Gay Marriage in California?

2008-05-15T10:31:00.007-06:00

The California Supreme Court has announced it will issue its ruling about the legality of gay marriage this morning at 10:00 a.m. PST.

The opinion can be found here, when it's published:

http://www.courtinfo.ca.gov/opinions/

Expect reporting on the ruling at these sites:

http://www.law.com/jsp/ca/index.jsp
(CalLaw - free subscription required)

http://legalpad.typepad.com/
(The CalLaw blog, totally free)

http://ebar.com/
(The Bay Area Reporter)

http://www.sfgate.com/
(The San Francisco Chronicle)

And maybe here:

http://blogs.wsj.com/law/
(The Wall Street Journal Law Blog)

http://www.nytimes.com/
(uhhh... the new york times.)

Why I Love Radiohead Fans

2008-05-13T18:00:00.002-06:00

Someone has made a site to document the current Radiohead tour (I'm seeing them August 22 here in S.F.!). It's pretty extensive.. gets me excited for the show.

A Primary Thought

2008-05-07T19:21:00.002-06:00

The New York Daily News is not, as far as I know, a bastion of journalistic integrity. But a recent article on the post-Indiana, post-North Carolina primary world got me thinking.

The article quoted two men who I'm assuming, based on the article's theme of race relations, are both white.

"I'm kind of still up in the air between McCain and Hillary," said Jason Jenkins, 32, who cited information from a hoax e-mail as a reason to spurn Obama.

"I'll be honest with you. Barack scares the hell out of me," he said. "He swore on the Koran."

...

Obama did manage to pull in many white voters, but still encountered similar sentiments from a man who refused to shake his hand at a diner in Greenwood, Ind.

"I can't stand him," the man said. "He's a Muslim. He's not even pro-American as far as I'm concerned."

...

In recent weeks, pundits have cited repeatedly the fact that Clinton outdoes Obama among working-class white voters. These days, everyone wants to know if Obama can win a general election campaign against John McCain. Besides the ever-present Democratic fear that Republicans will outwit their candidate, I think the subtext here is clear: Can a black presidential candidate win in a white nation?

Hell it's not even a subtext:

"He has to convince people that he can win over working-class whites in places like Florida, Ohio and Michigan," [former Bill Clinton pollster Doug] Schoen said.

So, here's the question, Democratic voter: Do you not vote for the historic, game-changing black candidate because America might still have a lot of racists who won't elect him come November? Would we be so cowardly as to reserve our vote for a reason like that?

I can understand voting for Clinton if you truly believe that she's the better candidate or that we need a woman in the White House now more than a black or white man. But more people have voted for Obama, and he's won more delegates. The Clinton argument that Obama can't win a general election campaign is cynical, defeatist and basically racist. She argues that you shouldn't vote for the black man, however astounding his potential is, because working-class whites won't vote for him in the end. She argues that voters should fear the racism of their countrymen instead of supporting the candidate who, so far, they believe in. I find that pretty depressing.

What is the Democratic Primary Like?

2008-04-25T13:50:00.001-06:00

Some Ideas:

--It's like a solicitor who keeps knocking at your door, even when it's obvious you're ignoring him, but he keeps knocking, even at midnight when you're fast asleep.

--It's like a bad rash that you can't get rid of and you don't really know what it is but you don't want to go to the doctor because every time you make an appointment it goes away so you cancel it, but then a few days later it comes back and it itches even more this time and it has spread.

--It's like middle school when there are two new kids and they both want to be in the cool kids clique but the novelty of being new is diluted because there are two of them so the cool kids reject them but they won't give up and so spend middle school making each other's lives miserable.

--It's like when you are really hungry but you know you have no good food to eat so you put off eating and then you get hungrier and really anything sounds good to eat but you are too lazy to eat so you put it off longer and then you aren't really even hungry anymore but you feel like eating so you eat whatever you have in your fridge but it sucks so you are dissatisfied.

Submit more!

Vampire WeekendonJimmy Kimmel LiveWith a Drumline!

2008-04-24T14:27:00.003-06:00

We both love Vampire Weekend's single "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa," and this performance does have the added benefit of a drumline, but I (Evan) was a little underwhelmed by the singing. Kinda boring, I thought, compared to the album version. But that's just me. Enjoy.

Story:The Dark Horse of CantripshirePart One

2008-04-24T10:29:00.003-06:00

Christ, let this darkness end. Oh, how I long to look on the fields of Cantripshire once more! If I had known it would come to this, I never would have listened to him. How could he, my own flesh and blood, betray my trust in this most heinous and awful way?

The oftentimes cheerful and sunny Cantripshire horizon was slowly filling with dark, menacing clouds. G.H. Fipsworth watched from the wide bay windows of his study as the sky's hue darkened and the air closed in around him. The sounds of larks singing and far off dogs barking were gone. A silence was growing; an uneasy, almost terrible silence. Suddenly, he heard the distant rumble of thunder. Forks of lighting could be seen in the black mass in the sky that was moving ever closer to his spacious country home. Looks like we're in for one hell of a night, he thought to himself, slowly pouring a glass full of whiskey. The silence was abruptly interrupted by a loud knock at his study doors.
Where most people would have jumped at the sudden noise, Fipsworth's demeanor stayed calm. His years of serving the Empire in India as a Colonel had given him nerves of steel. When a man is faced with unexpected bursts of artillery or gunfire, he learns to keep his wits about him. Slowly turning his sturdy frame, he paced the large room in a surprisingly short amount of time. He laid a strong, weathered hand on the latch and swung the door open. There, standing before him, was Ian Nielson, the butler of the house since time immemorial.
"Sir, a Mr. Goodwin wishes to see you. He is waiting in the parlour," stated the elderly servant. Though getting on in years, it was obvious from the old man's eyes that he still possessed a sharp mind.
"Thank you, Nielson," said Fipsworth. "Tell him I shall be with him directly." The old butler nodded,
"Very good, sir," he said as he shuffled out of the room. Mr. Nigel Goodwin was Fipsworth's third cousin, twice removed, on his mother's side of the family. The two became fast friends long ago, having served in the Army together in the Manjabi Province. It had been awhile since Fipsworth and Goodwin had spoken due to the latter's journeys around the globe. Fipsworth was looking forward to catching up with his old friend; he always liked to hear stories from his cousin's adventures. I wonder what kind of tall tales he'll be telling this time, Fipsworth thought to himself, smiling. He proceeded out of his study and into the spacious parlour. As soon as Fipsworth set eyes on his cousin, he could tell something wasn’t right. The once smooth round face was taut and wrinkled. His customary smile was now a grimace of pain and the usual spark in his eyes was gone.
“Hullo, Gerald,” said Goodwin, calling Fipsworth by his Christian name, “how are things?” His voice, once robust and jubilant, was now gravelly and it sounded as though that small salutation had drained the breath from his lungs.
“Not too bad, Nigel, not too bad,” said Fipsworth apprehensively. “You’re looking…well,” he added a moment later. Goodwin’s laugh was filled with anything but mirth.
“Oh my dear Gerald. Let’s dispense with the pleasantries, shall we? We can both see that the years have not been good to me.” Fipsworth could see the darkness in his cousin’s eyes. There seemed to be a shadow emanating from within, like a blackness pouring forth from his soul. His cracked lips opened and he said, “I have come to make you a proposition, my dear friend, my dear cousin. A proposition that I hope you will be unable to turn down.” Fipsworth waited a moment, eyeing his cousin with something that was half suspicion and half sadness. He could tell that the man was obviously down on his luck, and it pained him to see his once well-to-do cousin in such a spot.
“Look Nigel, if you just need to borrow some money or something, I could loan you a few hundred quid. I know you’re good--”
“Ha!” His cousin laughed in his face. “I do not need your charity, my dear boy. Despite my somewhat haggard and disheveled appearance, I am still somewhat wealthy. No, no, my proposition has nothing to do with anything so dismal as money.”
This last statement interested Fipsworth. As long as he could remember, his cousin had put money first. First before his wives, all three of them; first before his children, and who really knew how many of them there were? “Pray tell, then Nigel, what exactly is this grand proposition of yours?”
“I have two words for you, my dear Gerald,” his cousin rasped, his voice lowering to almost a whisper, “Sanjit Kumpur.”

Great Lakes Lesser Cities: Podcast Numero Dos

2008-04-23T19:18:00.003-06:00

We hope you will enjoy our new podcast with it's All-Robot cast. You can listen to or download it below:

You can also download an mp3 file of it HERE
Just click the link and on the right side of the page, click "Download original."

Hope you enjoy it and feel free to let us know what you think.

Odd Photograph

2008-04-07T22:46:00.001-06:00

I saw this photo on the Chicago Tribune's Web site the other day. I'm curious if anyone knows where it could've been taken. I don't know of a single place where you can be out on the water that far and look back toward the city, unless it's Navy Pier, but I don't think that goes out far enough. Thoughts?

NY Times: America has Serious Caseof the Mondays

2008-04-04T01:13:00.003-06:00

A Friday New York Times article reports that 81 percent of the nation thinks "things have pretty seriously gotten off on the wrong track."

Apparently, this is the worst it has been since the Times/CBS News began to ask about such things in the early 1990s.

The real question here, for me, is: Who wrote this poll question?

I say there's two possibilities. Either it's Farmer John from down in the corn patch, or your grandpa. Those are the only two people I can think of who would think things have "pretty seriously gotten off on the wrong track." A possible third option is the guy who thinks his date is starting to go sour, as in, "Whoa whoa, Christine, I think 'things have pretty seriously gotten off on the wrong track' between you and me."

Anyway.. major bummer, folks.

A Trip Down Memory Lane

2008-03-30T22:21:00.002-06:00

I have been going through some old notebooks and journals of mine from when I was still a film student. The bulk of these were written when I was probably 19 or 20, which was about 3-4 years ago. Almost all of it is ridiculously embarrassing and I am going to destroy the bulk of them pretty soon, but some of them were actually kind of neat to go through. So I tore out a few of the poems and drawing I did that weren't that bad so that I can save them for posterity's sake. I'm going to share three of the poems/rhymes I wrote below. Enjoy and go easy on me. I promise I haven't written a poem in probably at least 3 years.

P.S. I'm including the titles that I originally gave the poems. Also, all of these were originally written in my horribly rote cursive that I hadn't used since 3rd grade but that I used with them because I probably thought it was more "artistic" or something.

"Sloppy in Style, Spelling, Punctuation, Grammar, and Flow - Yet Surprisingly Optimistic Poem"

When night has come, and doused the sun, to my waiting bed I run. Before I fall, as dead as leaves or weeds or anything at all, I crawl to the floor and thank the Lord for letting me live in this world at all. For in this life we are given choices, and with these choices come voices. Telling us which path to follow, some of them completely hollow. But others are filled with awe and wonders and these we should take above all others. So the only thing we have to fear is fear, that is undoubtedly clear. Fear comes with the voices that make evil choices, and try to take our free will so dear.

I actually like this poem because it has almost a classic quality to it. The way it flows in the beginning. I'm not quite sold on the last sentence. I feel like I could have beefed it up a little or at least kept the lyrical rhythm I had going. Oh well. Next:

"Stupid Poem #8"

If one were to transplant a brain, would the love contained within remain? Or would it stay, left behind, for the new owner of the old body to discover in time? I do not believe that love is so cold that it cannot exist without a soul. But what is a soul if not the creation of the mind? Something designed to help everyone find something in existance to help them put distance between the present and the end of time.

I like this poem because it also has a nice flow to it. And it ends better than the last one did. Also, the syllables fit really well at the end, unlike the last one. Moving on:

"Stupid Poem #9"

Entwined by the wine, they hoped for a sign to prove their lust was just. And just in time they received a sign when their genitals were turned to dust. Rusty, musty, crusty, and dusty was how they lived out their days. Living with the knowledge that perversion never pays.

I was (and still am) a huge Edward Gorey fan, and I'm pretty sure I wrote this right when I was starting to get into him. It's obviously a blatant rip-off of his style, but I still like it.

Well, I hope that wasn't too painful for anyone. I promise I'm done with poetry.

Great Lakes Lesser Cities: First Podcast

2008-03-28T12:11:00.005-06:00

I just got done putting together our first ever GLLC podcast. It's not much, just some songs to get you in the mood for Spring. Hopefully, in the future, we'll do more in-depth podcasts covering real topics. But for now, enjoy this:

Or, Download it.
Just click the link and on the right side of the page, click "Download original."

Tracklist:
1. Vampire Weekend - "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa"
2. Fleet Foxes - "He Doesn't Know Why"
3. Jamie Lidell - "Multiply (In a Minor Key)"
4. She & Him - "I Was Made For You"
5. Bon Iver - "For Emma"

Weird Notes from the Ether

2008-03-19T00:21:00.002-06:00

This is what the world of bit torrents will yield:

It came along with a download of The Wire. Someone apparently wants me to know about Freemasonry. You know.. my grandpa was a Freemason, I've been told.

Bush is Still Stupid

2008-03-15T11:46:00.003-06:00

I just read a Gail Collins editorial this morning. I'm starting to really like her. I, for one, still haven't gotten over the fact that our President is a bumbling idiot. This speech to the Economic Club of New York is just one indication of that fact, out of the millions we've gotten over the years.

Maybe you're thinking, "Oh come on, he never knew economics anyway, and it's not like he controls that policy." I suppose, but when you combine Gail Collins' editorial with this article from Reuters, you realize that yes, he really is retarded.

"In a videoconference [on Afghanistan], Bush heard from U.S. military and civilian personnel about the challenges ranging from fighting local government and police corruption to persuading farmers to abandon a lucrative poppy drug trade for other crops.

Bush heard tales of all-night tea drinking sessions to coax local residents into cooperating, and of tribesmen crossing mountains to attend government meetings seen as building blocks for the country's democracy-in-the-making.

"I must say, I'm a little envious," Bush said. "If I were slightly younger and not employed here, I think it would be a fantastic experience to be on the front lines of helping this young democracy succeed."

"It must be exciting for you ... in some ways romantic, in some ways, you know, confronting danger. You're really making history, and thanks," Bush said."

Some New Music

2008-03-13T21:20:00.004-06:00

OK, I know you're all listening to "Ashley Alexandra Dupre," the latest sensation to come out of England... er, wait, sorry, I mean the New Jersey girl who had sex with New York Governor Eliot Spitzer, but maybe take the time to listen to some stuff Ted and I have been enjoying:

Fleet Foxes (MySpace)

Burial

El Guincho

Panda Bear

Maritime (cover of a Hot Chip song)

And Yet More Thoughtson theSpitzer Circus

2008-03-13T09:19:00.002-06:00

More clues as to why The New York Times was hot on the trail of the prostitution bust, while everyone else had no clue:

"Just one fact piqued interest for some in the room: The lead prosecutor on the case was Boyd M. Johnson III, the chief of the public corruption unit of the Manhattan United States attorney’s office.

Later that day, reporters at The New York Times learned of the unusual presence of three lawyers from the corruption unit, including the boss of that division and an F.B.I. agent from one of the bureau’s public corruption squads. The public corruption units often look at the conduct of elected officials.

Within hours, the reporters were convinced that a significant public figure was involved as a client of the prostitution ring."

The Times apprently sent a reporter to stake out Spitzer's apartment and see what he was up to over the weekend, a fact which, in light of the following excerpt, makes it seem as though this reporter tailed Spitzer the whole weekend:

" Late Saturday afternoon, the governor hopped an Amtrak train to Washington, changing into a white-tie tuxedo in the train’s restroom."

Really? And how do you know that? Kinda creepy.

Thoughts on theSpitzer Circus

2008-03-12T20:44:00.003-06:00

Sure, it was a great New York news day. Big ups to The New York Times for breaking the story and reporting the hell out of it. But if the Times wants to follow through, they'll start thinking like others have begun to (check the comments) and examine why Spitzer was under so much scrutiny. Why were the feds looking so closely at his finances? Why this prostitution ring in particular? If this ends up netting only Spitzer and some random sleazeballs (i.e. no big money, no other big names), then there's a question as to why it ever happened in the first place.

On a journalistic note: This piece from Editor & Publisher examines what other newsrooms did with the news of the prostitution bust (before anyone knew it was Spitzer). No one seems to have any inkling that it was going to catch a big fish, except apparently the Albany Times-Union:

"[Editor Rex Smith] said the paper had filed a freedom of information act request Monday morning, before the Times story broke, for Spitzer's travel records from the February dates on which he supposedly met the prostitute in Washington, D.C."

That seems like a rational and prudent move on the part of the Times-Union. So why did the NY Times move so much faster, with high-level editors pulling late weekend shifts? The first piece I linked to mentions that veteran Metro reporter William Rashbaum got a tip that "Client 9" in the prostitution bust was a "New York official." Who gave him the tip might be a fact we'll never know, but it's the key to the whole thing. It's probably the only reason the Times was able to break this story, and who the tipster is and what his motivations are might indicate why Spitzer's identity leaked in the first place. Looks like Rashbaum's old-school experience paid off big time.

Today inBreaking News

2008-03-10T12:50:00.004-06:00

Today, we all found out that a guy who looked like he used prostitutes did in fact use prostitutes, albeit apparently high-class ones.

That guy being New York Governor Eliot Spitzer, duh.

I think it's (mildly) interesting (for a journalist) to note that three major papers-The New York Times, the New York Post and the Washington Post-all used almost identical headlines:

Wash Post: "NY Governor Linked to Prostitution Ring"

NY Post: "Spitzer Linked to Prostitution Ring"

NY Times: "Spitzer is Linked to Prostitution Ring"

Come on, New York Post, that's the best you can do? How about: "Hypocrite Gov. Indulged in High-Class Whores?" I think the question mark would maintain the Post's integrity.

Saturday MorningJournalism Round-up

2008-03-08T13:06:00.004-06:00

Let's start with the lede from this article by Steven Lee Meyers of The New York Times:

"President Bush on Saturday further cemented his legacy of fighting for strong executive powers, using his veto to shut down a Congressional effort to limit the Central Intelligence Agency’s latitude to subject terrorism suspects to harsh interrogation techniques."

I don't know Meyers' writing, but this strikes me as a somewhat Times-ey lede, meaning that the first time I saw it, I had to read it twice to get the meaning. Why not switch things around and simplify a little bit:

"President Bush vetoed on Saturday a Congressional effort to limit the Central Intelligence Agency's ability to torture terrorism subjects, further cementing his legacy of fighting for strong executive powers."

I think that reads a little better, but we're still left with the rather weak "legacy of fighting for strong executive powers." For a paper often accused by the Right of liberal bias, that terminology makes me think either Meyers or his editors handcuffed his writing a little bit. One could just as easily say, perhaps in a different paper with a slightly more partisan bent, that Bush's veto further cements his legacy (maybe the Rove legacy, more accurately) of asserting the supremacy of executive power. To me, "fighting for strong executive powers" implies that Bush is some sort of crusader, bravely defending the rights of the West Wing.

Side note: The Washington Post seems to agree with me:

"President Bush vetoed Saturday legislation meant to ban the CIA from using waterboarding and other harsh interrogation tactics, saying it 'would take away one of the most valuable tools on the war on terror.' "

Right on, Dan Eggen.

And what would a journalism round-up be without the Chicago Tribune and their ever-depressing front page?

"1 student killed, 1 beaten"

"Woman charged with stabbing teen over boy"

"Police have suspect in UNC student leader's death"

From the San Francisco Chronicle, a story about today's Wyoming caucus, which Obama is leading, contains this sentence:

"Obama generally has outperformed Clinton in caucuses, which reward organization and voter passion more than do primaries."

Now, I like this piece of background info, which I've seen repeated in several different papers. It's useful to know the difference between primaries and caucuses. But what about that little "do" stuck in there, as in "more than do primaries"? Seems to me like the case of an over-eager editor trying to make the sentence's grammar perfect, though I'd like someone else to weigh in and tell me if that "do" is really necessary.

Finally, the opening paragraph from a piece found in the Feb. 11 and 18 New Yorker, which piece is unfortunately unavailable online. (note: I think "which piece" is the right way to refer back to the article, and not the entire New Yorker edition, thoughts?)

"My nickname when I was in junior high and high school, in Kansas City, was Loyd, my father's name. It was given to me inadvertently, in 1967, by my seventh-grade math teacher, who had taught my father thirty years earlier and sometimes forgot which of us he was calling on. In my father's day, the math teacher's nickname had been Tarz, short for Tarzan, because he was built like Johnny Weissmuller; by the time I had him, his nickname was Wheezer. He looked like Lyndon Johnson, with tremendous gravity-stretched jowls and earlobes. Age must have lengthened his scrotum, too, because he was always careful to lift his testicles out of the way before sitting in a chair or leaning back against the front of his desk. Sometimes, my friends and I, as we took our seats for math, would pretend to lift our testicles out of the way, too."

Modern LifeFear of Subjectivity

2007-11-19T01:07:00.000-06:00

Since the dawn of the trans-digital age, a term I will use to refer to the post-2000s, when information became instantaneously transferable across the world in a matter of seconds, the idea of the live performance has undergone an extreme, yet unnoticed shift.

Arguably, the harbinger of the trans-digital age was YouTube, the monster video sharing Web site. We should have known, while watching one of those anonymous fuck-up videos of someone running into something, or having something run into them, that just as the tribulations of the Everyman could be broadcast, so could the great achievements of mankind, and perhaps more easily.

For, just as the camera seems omnipresent in the trans-digital age, it was equally absent in earlier times. Though mankind has had television for some time now, film for longer, and photography for longer yet, we have never suffered such an omnipresent recorder as we do now. These days, though it might not be apparent, there is a not insignificant probability that your actions are being recorded, and furthermore that those recordings might end up publicly viewed.

In Roman times, the lowly plebeian would obviously never consider the possibility of his actions being recorded. Instantaneous documentation was inconceivable, and no one but the most wealthy were eligible for any sort of immortalization. The frescoes, paintings and mosaics we have received from ancient times represent only the tiniest sliver of memorable life.

The only person worth recording, and likely the only person who would consider himself worthy, would be a kind of Caesar. We in the future might possess a deep, historical interest in the life of the average plebe, but to imagine his life recorded contemporaneously, or rather to imagine that he would possess the arrogance to record his own life, is quite hard.

The point being that, from the time of Caesar to, let's say, some time in the 1980s, the seminal, amazing, zeitgeist-changing, watershed moments in human history were witnessed by, at most, 100,000 people, and understood by far fewer. I use the number 100,000, though it is probably far higher than needed, to account for huge historical battles, or speeches and plays that were relayed to a number of crowds.

Caesar's assassination was probably seen by a crowd numbering less than 100. The beach landings on D-Day can be contemplated only by those who experienced the horror. Only a select few know what it was like to listen to The Beatles at the Cavern Club in Germany. Only a slightly higher number could recall the psychadelic freak-outs of the late '60s acid tests.

Yet now, after the worldwide viewing of the fall of the Berlin Wall, after New Year's celebrations have been transmitted to many nations for many years, and finally after a seemingly infinite number of concerts have been recorded and distributed to millions, we have a reached an era when almost anyone can actually see, and probably hear, what it was like to witness an astounding event.

So what's astounding anymore?

If thousands, or hundreds of thousands, can post their comments on YouTube - "Michael Jordan is hardly the best basketball player ever." "You should really check out his performance at Madison Square Garden." - what does that do to our concept of greatness? Furthermore, in the trans-digital age, is it even possible to form a consensus anymore?

What would have happened if The Beatles earliest concerts had been posted on YouTube? I'm guessing there would have been hundreds of comments criticizing their skill and degrading the band as a knock-off of American R&B and soul groups. Maybe they wouldn't have even gotten their start. Or what if our greatest sports moments - Babe Ruth's Called Shot - had been recorded from multiple angles and critiqued by as many voices? Would we even have a "greatest" concept anymore? Perhaps even now we're moving away from consensus, from the idea that one thing can be objectively greater than another. Subjectivity is the lawless ruler of the day.

LifeSomething Hunter Can Teach Us

2007-11-01T23:52:00.000-06:00

I've been reading "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" recently, and sadly for the first time. I had also never sat down and watched the film version all the way through either, despite recommendations from friends for many years, but I did that too the other day.

One thing I get from Hunter S. Thompson, that I semi-understood even before opening his book, is how to dig everything, in one respect or another. There's a story to be had here, is the theme which one needs to pick up. Perhaps the story only becomes available for experience when you are indulging in one of a myriad array of psychadelic mind-twisters, or marijuana, or cocaine, but it's still there.

Hunter has taught me this, but so (obliquely) did a former roommate of mine. It wasn't as if he lectured to me on life - he is not that kind of person - but what I gleaned from him is that there's a story in everything. Maybe it's landscaping in the heat everyday with a crew of men that includes plenty of pot-smoking loonies and a former felon or two. Or maybe it's digging nature zonked out on shrooms. Or maybe it's reporting for a daily newspaper. Hunter, after all, was dispatched to Vegas by reputable magazines to cover actual stories, but what we got out of it was a mythic American voyage, and what we lost was perhaps a couple by-lined stories we would have forgotten about anyway.

The story is there to be had, if you want it. As Hunter said: "Buy the ticket, take the ride."

JournalismSF WeeklyAttepts Satire,Inflamed Testicles Result

2007-09-30T16:07:00.000-06:00

The latest edition of SF Weekly, which I picked up this morning at a coffee shop, features a cover article that purports to detail revelatory new claims by a man who served prison time with Barry Bonds' erstwhile trainer/drug pusher, Greg Anderson. "Steroid Confidential" promises to reveal new facts about Bonds, spilled behind bars by Anderson, who has steadfastly refused to give any evidence to the grand jury investigating steroids claims.

The tribulations of Bonds and BALCO have always been one of those stories that fail to hold my attention, so it took me a while to flip back to the article. After I began to read, I felt a creeping unease. Something in the writing wasn't kosher. It started with the overwrought, over-dramatic phrasing in the introduction: "Prison changes a man. Makes him hard and cold, 'like the frozen earth itself,' as Hemingway once observed. Only returning to the outside has allowed Marlon Leftwich to thaw his spirit, to warm his soul." Then there's the continual interruption of the article's affected seriousness by what appear to be unfortunately humorous details: a junk-food addict taken down by a pimpled FBI agent, Bonds drinking a homemade concoction that included elk semen.

Aside from stylistic issues, there are glaring journalistic flaws. The article relies on one source, Marlon Leftwich, a barely employed ex-con who says, among other things, he overheard Anderson talking in his sleep. The reporters blatantly state they failed to contact Bonds or Anderson for comment. There is one photo on the second page of the article showing a man whose face is obscured by shadow, whom we must infer is Marlon Leftwich. The staging seems out of place, as does the lack of clear attribution.

By the end, after a series of increasingly ridiculous quotes climaxes with someone claiming Bonds actually drives 100 miles every month to masturbate male elk, half of me felt partially that SF Weekly would print such awful journalism and half knew the article had to be fake.

Which it was.

Josh Wolf, a CNET.com blogger who served time in the same prison as Anderson for refusing to give videotape to a grand jury, has performed the best post-mortem on the piece. He contacted SF Weekly, who affirmed the story was entirely made up. The names of the two reporters, Nic Foit and Ira Tes, are anagrams for "fiction" and "satire." Wolf also points out the article's biggest flaw: There is absolutely no indicator the story is fake or meant to be humorous.

I've got no problem with satire, from Swift to The Onion. In fact, I love it. But as a j-school graduate, I do have a problem when a widely read alt-weekly not only writes a fake story but makes it the headlining, front-page piece. A rumor has been circulating that a Chicago radio station read portions of the article on the air assuming they were true. The article is clearly ridiculous, it should be obvious to most readers that something is amiss, so it would be irresponsible for any media personality to simply repeat the story verbatim. Yet even if every reader knew it was fake, what must this make the average person think about SF Weekly, and journalism as a whole?

I can't imagine, given the news media's damaged reputation, that articles like this do any good. Some might applaud (or laugh with) SF Weekly for doing something daring, but satire is not the provenance of such a paper. At the very least this story does not belong in such a prominent position unaccompanied by any disclaimer or indication of humorous intent. Stamping the word "Satire" in caps lock above the headline would, of course, ruin most of the article's fun. But that's not something SF Weekly should be worrying about. Perhaps they might concentrate on news and commentary about the events of real life. It's sad that SF Weekly would waste time, talent and money like this.

Music ReviewWilcoYankee Hotel Foxtrot

2007-09-28T12:12:00.000-06:00

Note: Wilco released Yankee Hotel Foxtrot in 2002. It's now September 2007. The album is five years old, but I feel that doesn't disqualify it from eligibility. If Mick Jagger is still prancing around stage when by all rights he should be in a wheelchair, then I can review a five-year-old album. Plus, it's one of my all-time favorites. Enjoy.

With an undulating electrical hum and the simply tapped time-keeping of Glenn Kotche’s drumstick, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot assembles itself out of the void. The first moments of the album swirl like the first moments of a planet: empty and dark, sprinkled with dust, then filled with warmth – the slow strumming of Jeff Tweedy’s acoustic guitar. Kotche’s drums reappear, with life this time, and “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart” begins.

Yankee Hotel Foxtrot places Wilco in the same emotional spectrum occupied by contemporary releases like Bows + Arrows by the Walkmen, or even the Strokes’ masterful debut, Is This It? The album chronicles the wandering of a boozed and broken mind backward through a mournful tale of lost love, lost possibilities and remorseful acceptance. While it once might have seemed more appropriate to group Wilco with other “alt-country” rockers, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot clearly channels the same lost-in-the-big-city pathos as the Strokes and Walkmen. But Wilco seems to have mastered a sound that captures the wounded, drunken lover better than anyone else, one that is realized beautifully in the last minute-and-a-half of “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart.”

The album’s curtain-opener encapsulates the arc of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot’s story. As notes from an electric organ hover in the background, tinkling bells and the round clunk of empty bottles complement Tweedy’s defeated and backward-gazing lyrics. “What was I thinking when I let go of you…what was I thinking when I said good-night…what was I thinking when I said hello?” Gradually, the beauty of the song begins to disintegrate. By the time we reach the slow-moving breakdown of its conclusion, a repetitive and heavily-strummed cello and Tweedy’s street-corner, echoing voice signal that everything is coming apart.

At seven minutes, “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart” undoubtedly tries the patience of today’s pop-music listener; to be sure it even confuses long-time Wilco fans, many of whom disappointedly concluded that Yankee Hotel Foxtrot moves too slowly and never rocks. While it’s true that no song on the album bounces with the energy of Summerteeth’s “A Shot in the Arm” or Being There’s “Someday Soon,” Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is a masterpiece of production whose crispness and perfectionist production distinguish it from the band’s previous albums, recalling the creative leaps and bounds of the Beatles during the era of Revolver and Sgt.Pepper’s. The elements of music and sound layer so well in the opening moments of “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart” that it’s hard to remember why music can’t always sound at once this complex and this beautiful. In fact, given the amount of dissonant noises Wilco and producer Jim O’Rourke threw into Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, it’s a marvel the album came together at all, and a credit to Wilco’s obsessive perfectionism.

But it’s also a symptom of the tumultuous storm of intra-band relationships Wilco navigated during the album’s production. As viewers of Sam Jones’ 2002 documentary know, the shipwreck at the end of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot’s squall came in the departure of Wilco’s guitarist and multi-instrumentalist, Jay Bennett. Along the way, the band was pushed from the Reprise label (a division of Warner Bros.), signed to Nonesuch (also a division of Warner Bros.), brought in producer Jim O’Rourke and percussionist Glenn Kotche (both members of Tweedy’s one-time three-piece, Loose Furs) and lost drummer Ken Coomer. But chaos can breed beauty, and as any listener can attest, the alternating twinkling, crashing, shaking, caressing sound of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot can find a home as easily in a green summer backyard as your buddy’s living room on a hot night with a bottle of whisky or your headphones the day after your love is gone.

O’Rourke’s production suggests both dark, dystopian city wreckage as well as idyllic green fields over which Tweedy’s voice both skips and stumbles. Throughout the album seeps a tone of remorse, loss and desire. “I want to salute the ashes of American flags, and all the fallen leaves filling up shopping bags,” sings Tweedy slowly, ushering “Ashes of American Flags” into an unlikely but effective transition with “Heavy Metal Drummer,” the most accessible tune on the album. But even here we find Tweedy continuing to dwell on something lost: “I miss the innocence I’ve known, playing Kiss covers beautiful and stoned.” He seems to spend the whole album both searching and looking back.

If the best lyrics in rock are love poetry, and the best in country tales of hardship, defeat and redemption, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot finds Jeff Tweedy combining both in an alchemy whose chemical residue looks, smells and tastes like a confused romantic lost inside his own wilderness. All he wants is the good life, but something – perhaps himself – prevents him from holding onto it. Foxtrot’s Tweedy is war-worn, but not so much that he can’t feel. “You have to lose/You have to learn how to die/If you want to want to be alive,” he sings. But it’s also Tweedy who desperately wants to hold onto his love in “Pot Kettle Black,” promising to keep her in his locket, “a string I never strum.” The nearly uplifting chorus – “every song is a comeback” – gives even the most jaundiced listener hope for a happy conclusion.

But as the strings fade and a soft wind blows in the background, a medical beeping emerges, and a different Tweedy steps into the spotlight for “Poor Places,” the album’s anthem. The lyrics are wildly different from “Pot Kettle Black” and the album’s other summer boppers, they are deeply depressing on a personal level. Here is loss presented; loss of life, loss of a love, loss of faith in oneself. The composition is so clear and simple that Tweedy’s lyrics are allowed to speak for themselves. He’s not going outside tonight, rather the Tweedy of “Poor Places” is melting down all alone in the heat, and when the song begins its climactic conclusion, it’s clear that Yankee Hotel Foxtrot will provide no easy resolution. By the last minute, the song has broken down into static, an emotionless female voice repeating the album’s titular call sign as the world descends into oblivion around her.

Yankee Hotel Foxtrot leaves us with glorious doubt. Tweedy’s voice disappears from the album’s finale a good three minutes before the music does, fading slowly back into the darkness with the creaking of a piano bench, the lightning bug zips of soft electronics and the whispered voice of a lover or a friend. There’s a melodic beeping, like the alien greetings from Close Encounters, echoing off tiles in some subterranean passage, perhaps on downtown Chicago’s Red Line as the singer stumbles onto a late-night train home.

RandomSports Fans

2007-05-13T22:04:00.000-06:00

It's been a while since Ted and I established this blog and I realize there have been zero posts having anything to do with sports. This is sad, since the world of sports occupies such a prominent spot in my life. It's usually fun to be a fan of Chicago teams, which I am. Even though they have a tendency to disappoint, they're still not as disastrous as, say, teams from Philadelphia. The City of Brotherly Love celebrated its last championship, in any sport, in 1980. How much does that suck? Any friend my age who's a fan of Philadelphia sports has not been alive for any championship, which is sad. Although I cannot say I was really conscious of the Bears winning in 1986, or even the Bulls' string of victories in the 90s, I can still lay claim to them. Being a fan of often-disappointing but occasionally successful teams breeds a curious sense of loyalty. Like the Cubs, they're the "Loveable Losers." Most Cubs fans would probably prefer their team to win consistently rather than melt down in Game 6 of the NLCS, but the fact that they do melt down so often makes each season such an exciting roller coaster ride.

Anyway, I was reading
Bill Simmon's column on Page 2, and in his most recent article he wrote about the power of fans at sporting events. Here's Bill's interesting first paragraph:

"It's easy to discount the spiritual impact of basketball crowds if you haven't attended a playoff game with special fans before. There's no way to understand it unless it definitely has happened to you. Then you know. As strange as this sounds, it's like a woman being unable to tell whether she's ever had an orgasm. If she thinks it might have happened, or it felt like it kind of happened one time ... it didn't happen. When it happens, they know. Then they feel stupid for all the other times when they thought it had happened."

Perhaps I'm like the poor, suffering example he gives, but I feel like I've been around a good crowd before. Although, he's right, I can definitely see how you would just feel it if you were in the presence of an amazing crowd. And maybe I haven't felt it. But this led me to the question: Do sports fans make a big difference in games? Or, more specifically, do you need "special" fans to make a real difference. According to Bill, he and his fellow fans "swung the outcome of six series ('81 Sixers, '84 Lakers, '87 Bucks, '87 Pistons, '88 Hawks and '91 Pacers)". Quite a hefty claim. The one example Bill gives of the kind of things a "special" fan does is this: "These are the fans who instinctively understand stuff like, 'Mickael Pietrus just threw down a ridiculous putback; I'm going to stand and keep cheering for an extra 30 seconds because he's a young kid and we need to keep pumping him up so he'll do it again.'"

This doesn't really sway me, though. I mean, what's the difference between 30,000+ Angels fans screaming all the time at the top of their lungs with those damn thundersticks and the supposedly great Golden State fans at Oracle Arena? Sounds like the same noise to me. I know what Simmons means when he says that "real fans" don't follow the directions on the big screen, don't need to be told how to cheer, but really I think it just all comes down to the noise. Perhaps you could say something about the dedication. Cubs fans at Wrigley get up to cheer for specific at-bats more often than any other fanbase I've seen. The character of the stadium and the city contribute as well. For instance, would you want to be an NFL player and go to Cleveland, where they throw shit at you on the field and destroyed their own stadium after Art Modell sold them out? Not me. It's not necessarily the experience of the fans but their intensity. Yankees fans, Red Wings fans, Bears fans.. they're all probably very in tune with their teams and well-versed in the history of the franchises, but I wouldn't say it's scary to play baseball in NYC, hockey in Detroit or football at Soldier Field. A great time, for sure, but I don't know if the fans affect the game.

Bottom line, Bill Simmons is just a little too nostalgic about those classic series he attended. The only (or at least only major) requirement to be an effective crowd is too make enough noise to disrupt the other team, be it calls for a quarterback or signals for a pitcher.

VideosThree Fucking Cute YouTube Videos

2007-04-25T00:25:00.000-06:00

Tired Kitties

Otters Holding Hands

Panda Sneeze

ListFunny ThingsFound in a 21 year oldMedical Book

2007-04-25T00:06:00.000-06:00

"Diagnostic Picture Tests in DERMATOLOGY"
by G.M. Levene, M.B. and S.K. Goolamali, M.D.
Published by Wolfe Medical Publications, Ltd
©1986

- "Haemorrhagic bulla in the morning is a 'shepherd's warning'!"
- "What is the cause of this lady's blue nose?"
- "Why does this lady have such deformed hands?"
- "What is wrong with this man's tongue?"
- "Q: How would a social history help in the diagnosis? A: He is homosexual."

HumorFour Short CrushesbyPaul Simms

2007-04-24T23:23:00.000-06:00

From The New Yorker, April 30, 2007

Well, well, well.

Just look at you, walking into this dreary bar and lighting the place up like the noonday sun at midnight, twirling a lock of your long auburn hair pensively as you search the room—for what?

For a soul mate, perhaps?

(I know, I know—I hate that phrase, too. Maybe that will end up being one of those things we both hate.) Maybe a few weeks from now, lying in your bed on a Sunday morning, I’ll ask you, “What’s your least favorite word or phrase?,” and you’ll say, “ ‘Soul mate,’ ” and I’ll laugh till you say, “What? Tell me!,” and I’ll tell you how I knew that from the moment I first laid eyes on you, and then we’ll have sex again.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. You haven’t even noticed me yet. That’s O.K. I can wait.

Maybe when your gaze settles on me, and we lock eyes in that mutual Hitchcockian tunnel-vision effect where the camera is, like, pushing in at the same time it zooms out, or however they do that, you’ll come sit down next to me and we’ll—

Now you’ve spotted the friends you came to meet. They look like good friends.

Maybe they’ll be my friends, too.

Our friends.

Your eyes just came to life like emeralds lit by subterranean torches, and as you move across the room toward your friends you shriek at them, “What the fuck is up, yo?,” in a voice so piercing that the entire bar goes silent for a moment, and I have to check my glasses to make sure the lenses didn’t crack. You continue to bellow your every utterance (including the lines “Jägermeister is the bomb, dawg!” and “Just ’cause I’m a white girl don’t mean I don’t got some serious junk in the trunk!” and “Random! Random! Random!”), and the bartender leans in and whispers something to his bar back, and they look at you and laugh.

You must be a regular here.

(Duration of crush: seventeen seconds.)

Oh my. What have we here? A rainy night in the city has cleared the sidewalks of all but the most intrepid pedestrians, and those who didn’t brave the elements have no idea what they’re missing.

Because there you are, gliding along on your bicycle, just a few feet ahead of me.

You’re obviously not one of those tedious hard-core cycling enthusiasts—no skin-tight black spandex for you. No, just a simple white T-shirt (soaked through to the skin, clinging to the small of your back) and a long blond ponytail, whipping back and forth like the tail of a cartoon pony, as those long legs of yours pump the pedals and you raise your face to the sky, letting the raindrops freckle your cheeks with sweet diamonds of moisture.

Dare I try to catch up to you? I’m on foot, carrying a bunch of shopping bags, but you’ve paused at a red light, and—what the heck? I don’t know what I’ll say to you, but even the clumsiest of introductions on these glistening nighttime streets will give us a romantic how-we-met anecdote that we’ll love telling for years to come.

Caught you! Here I am!

And there you are. I see now that you’re a dude. My mistake. It was the ponytail that threw me off.

(Duration of crush: thirty-three seconds.)

Another restaurant dinner with my boring girlfriend, another lecture about how I never really listen to whatever she’s yammering on about.

But how can I listen—how could anyone?—when across the room, alone at a table, reading the newspaper and nursing a glass of white wine, is a silent confection like you?

You, with your jet-black hair (like a latter-day Veronica from “Archie”) and your skin so pale that the bubble-gummy pinkness of your pouty lips seems almost obscene, especially when you scrunch them up the way you do every time you lick your forefinger and turn the page.

And I know you see me, too. Your first glance betrayed a glimmer of recognition—as if you knew me but couldn’t remember from where—followed by puzzlement, your eyes entreating me to silently remind you, which I couldn’t do at the time because my current girlfriend was staring across the table at me, apparently waiting for my answer to some kind of relationship question that I thought was rhetorical.

And so it goes. For an eternity, it seems—through the entire meal, until I watch you ask for the check, and pay it, and get up to walk out of the restaurant, and my life, forever.

But what’s this? You’re crossing the room toward me? So brazen—just as I knew you’d be. Are you going to surreptitiously slip me your number, written on a sugar packet, perhaps dropping it in my pocket as you fake-jostle me, like a spy handing off microfilm?

My heart beats like underwater thunder in my ears, until you tap my girlfriend on the shoulder, and she sees you and says, “Hey!,” and you say, “I thought that was you!,” and I realize that you are one of my girlfriend’s college roommates.

After you leave, my girlfriend tells me a hilarious story about how one time in college some guy broke up with you, so you found some photos of him nude with the word “Patriarchy” written on his chest in Magic Marker which you took for an art class, and you sent them to his parents and then posted them on your blog, where you apparently like to write incredibly detailed confessionals about the asshole guys you always end up dating, and also, while you don’t use the guys’ real names, everyone knows that the guy you immortalized as Pencil Dick is actually a guy I used to work with.

(Duration of crush: forty-five minutes.)

So silly does my impatience now seem, stuck as I am in the Starbucks line during the morning rush. But that was before I noticed you in line ahead of me.

And now that I’ve seen you—with your gossamer hair still damp from the shower, with your well-moisturized ankles strapped and buckled into high heels that make you wobble and sway like a young colt just finding her stride, with your scent of lilacs and Dial, and, most of all, with your infectious sense of calmness and serenity, which makes me wish that the world itself would stop spinning, so that gravity would cease and we two could float into the sky and kiss in the clouds, giddy with love and vertigo—

Now you’re at the register, and the dreaded moment when we part without meeting rushes toward me like a slow-motion car crash in a dream.

You’ve been at the register without saying anything for, like, fifteen seconds now, still scanning the menu board with those almond-shaped eyes that would make Nefertiti herself weep with envy.

Seriously, you’ve been to a Starbucks before, right? I mean, it seems like there are a lot of choices, but most people find a drink they like and stick with it. And order it quickly.

But maybe I’ve caught you on a day when you’ve decided to make a fresh start. To make a fresh start, to try a new drink, to walk a different way to work, to finally dump that boyfriend who doesn’t appreciate you.

O.K., even if that were the case you could have picked out your new drink while you were waiting in line, right? I mean, come on.

Well, you’ve won me back, my future Mrs. Me—by turning to me and mouthing, “Sorry,” after you finally noticed me tapping my foot, looking at my watch, and exhaling loudly. Sensitivity like that can be neither learned nor taught, and it’s a rare thing indeed. The rarest of all possible—

Jesus Christ, you’ve ordered your drink and paid; do I really have to stand here for another forty-five seconds while you repack your purse, the contents of which you’ve spilled out on the counter like you’re setting up a fucking yard sale or something?

That’s right, the bills go in the billfold, the coins go in the little coin purse, the billfold and the coin purse go back in the pocketbook—no, in a side pocket of the pocketbook, which seems to have a clasp whose design incorporates some proprietary technology that you haven’t yet mastered.

I think I hate you now.

(Duration of crush: five minutes.)

VideoCategoricalImperative

2007-04-02T22:27:00.000-06:00

PodcastTed & Jonah Present"The Pilot"

2007-03-09T23:39:00.000-06:00

My friend Jonah and I have decided to create a podcast under the name Newport Players. This first one is basically a weird little radio show consisting of some banter and some songs we like. It features the songs "3 Kings (Ratatat Remix)" by Slim Thug, Bun B, and T.I., "Leyendecker" by Battles, "Mr. Me Too (z.a.k. Remix)" by The Clipse, "Wamp Wamp vs. Knife (Girl Talk Remix)" by Clipse and Grizzly Bear, respectively. You can download the .mp3 file below. Just click the link and then click the "Download file" button on the right.

Check it out

We hope you enjoy it. Let us know what you think.

VideoMechanicalMonster

2007-02-23T00:06:00.001-06:00

FactWomen AreBecoming MoreEqual!

2007-02-21T21:51:00.000-06:00

My sociology professor told us tonight about a phenomenon called, "the feminization of poverty and crime." What this means is that more and more women are committing violent crimes and falling below the poverty line than ever before. These formerly male-dominated fields are now becoming equal thanks to these brave modern women.

Take THAT, Glass Ceiling!

MusicAmendments to my Top 10 Albums of 2006 List

2007-02-21T21:38:00.000-06:00

The time of the "Top 10" lists has long since passed and after having discovered music from other people's lists and having sat with my own for awhile, I've decided to make a few amendments to it:

1. Joanna Newson "Ys"
-I discovered this album after hearing that Joanna Newsom was going to be playing a free show in Madison. I wasn't able to make it to the concert but I downloaded the album to hear for myself what all the fuss was about. As soon as I listened to it I was hooked. I couldn't stop listening to it. Her voice is incredibly unique and her melodies and hooks are amazing. Each of the five songs on the album is about 12 minutes long, but they have so many different parts and movements that they are broken up really well. The instrumentation on the album is amazing, too. Her harp is beautifully accompanied by the string arrangements of long time Brian Wilson collaborator Van Dyke Parks. After living with this album for a few weeks, I would definitely say that it is my second favorite album of the year.

2. Hot Chip "The Warning"
-I should have listened to this album a lot sooner than I did because my friend Jonah was really into it earlier in the year when it first came out. But for some reason I kept putting it off and once I heard it I was really sorry that I hadn't listened sooner. The songs "And I Was a Boy From School", "Over and Over", and "Look After Me" are definitely some of my favorite songs of the year and the rest of the album is almost just as good. It's British Electropop at its best, and if that means something to you, then you should definitely check it out. I don't really know where it would fall on my top 10 list, but it's for sure somewhere near the top.

3. Ray LaMontagne "Till the Sun Turns Black"
-I was debating back when I originally wrote my Top 10 list whether or not to put this on there. Obviously, I decided against it. But now, after having gotten more into it, I realize that it really should be on there. I really like his first album, "Trouble," and I thought that "Till the Sun Turns Black" just didn't compare. Recently, though, I have really grown to love it. It's darker and more complex than "Trouble," and it's just better, overall. It's also really epic at times. The title songs transitions into the final song, "Within You," and just grows and grows. The first song on the album, "Be Here Now," is also a great builder of a song.

That's all for my amendments. There were a few honorable mentions, but nothing else that really jumped out at me.

MusicNew Arcade Fire

2007-02-02T12:07:00.000-06:00

As I write this, leaked copies of the new Arcade Fire album "Neon Bible" are flowing across the creeks and streams of the internet, branching and dividing by the hundreds as peer-to-peer software works its communistic magic. Although I urge each and every one of you to purchase the album when it's released in March, I must admit I downloaded a copy two nights ago.

Here for your enjoyment are links to two standout tracks from "Neon Bible." Expect a full review here in the coming days.

Track #2 - Keep the Car Running

Track #11 - My Body is a Cage

RantWhyRolling StoneSucks

2007-01-30T21:42:00.000-06:00

My roommate just got a copy of the latest Rolling Stone in the mail. Luckily, he didn't pay for it; it was a free trial subscription. Why lucky? Because Rolling Stone sucks. Sucks in almost all of the various ways an ostensibly cool record review magazine can suck. Ah yes, but therein lies the rub. Rolling Stone isn't a record review magazine anymore. It's not even a so-called lad mag a la Maxim, although I'm sure it would love to be. Rolling Stone these days is a mishmash of the poppiest of pop culture, tabloidism and pure suck-up-itude.

Let's start at the beginning.

Rolling Stone smells like perfume. Or maybe it's cologne. Who can tell the difference today anyway. "But Evan, lots of magazines have perfume ads and smell like that," you might say. Sure, but Rolling Stone? No. In my perfect world (which may have existed about 40 years ago) Rolling Stone would smell like newsprint and the city. The ink would smear on my fingers. I'd roll it up and stick it in my back pocket and take it out later to read on the train. It would not smell like perfume. Ever. I take that back; it might smell like perfume because I brought it over to a girl's house and left it in a pile of clothes next to her bed. That's the only way.

Now let's open the magazine. Holy shit! What is that! Why, it's an ad for "I'm From Rolling Stone," an MTV reality show ABOUT Rolling Stone. But we'll get to that piece of absurdity later. Look at the next ad. Ford Fusion. Kind of a sporty car. Flip a few pages.. Old Spice ad. "What doesn't kill you makes you better looking." Sad thing is, that's not even the source of the perfume smell. There are other perfume/cologne ads. Ok, now we're at the table of contents. What a nice place to address the second way Rolling Stone sucks (number one being its godawful smell).

Rolling Stone is like a heroin addict, except instead of heroin there's pure pop culture glucose running through its veins. Exhibit A: The table of contents is dominated by a spread about American Idol. For a second I almost thought this was OK. I thought to myself, "Maybe American Idol is so uncool, it's cool." But then I realized that only Vice Magazine could make American Idol remotely cool. No, Rolling Stone is just doing it because any number of a variety of surveys have declared that, well, a shitload of people watch American Idol. A shitload of 18-34 year olds probably.

Let's keep flipping. There's some cool stuff in here. Almost redeeming stuff, like stories about Deerhoof and Clap Your Hands Say Yeah. A story about a London band called the Klaxons that I would read if the picture of the band didn't show three guys who looked like those annoying kids at the bar (probably theater or social policy majors) who dressed fashionably but didn't talk to anyone and thus defeated any coolness they may have built up by standing around being annoying. Oh shit, there's another "I'm From Rolling Stone" ad. Gotta skip that. Bringing me to the third problem.

Why does Rolling Stone have a section called "Style"? Here's a 10 second lesson in coolness for Rolling Stone. Whatever ends up in your Style section isn't cool anymore. Sure, people are probably wearing it. Hell, more girls might wear that skirt now that it's been in your magazine. But girls wore Ugg boots too. And guys wore pink polos. Neither were cool. They were probably cool the first time someone in L.A. or New York City tried them out. But the minute some douchebag copied them, it wasn't cool anymore. It's tough, but you need to leave fashion for the fashion magazines. And P.S., those pants there in the corner of the page cost $185? I understand excess is part of rock n' roll, but not for pants. For drugs and booze.

Bear with me, there are two more things. Real quick, let's address the tabloidism. There's a full page spread on pages 36 and 37 that is, essentially, something you'd find in the Inquirer, except slightly more focused on the music industry. Look! There's a picture of a guy from Good Charlotte in Mexico with Nicole Richie! Look! There's some guy named Pete Doherty kicking a paparazzi dude! Look! There's.... Steven Tyler wearing nothing but a thong? Hey, at least that Old Spice ad can catch my puke.

Since I'm probably running out of your attention, I'll cut to the final gripe. Unfortunately, that means skipping over the Panic! At the Disco cover story. I know some of you might be fans of theirs, but let me just say I would pay good money to see a video on YouTube of them getting their asses beat by some guys with pool cues.

Anyway... the record reviews. Let me preface this by giving you the Rolling Stone system. It's based on five stars. A five star record is a "classic" record. I've only seen them give five stars to the Beatles or the Stones or Led Zeppelin. And that's as it should be. Four stars is excellent, three is good, two is fair and one is poor. First of all, only ONE of those rankings is negative. Two out of five is still "good"! Does that make sense to you? It doesn't to me. They give five stars to the right people, but I can't even remember the last time they gave a one out. That means Nickelback can open their copy of Rolling Stone and see that their album got two stars and actually think they make "good" music. Now that is atrocious.

Almost every album in the edition I read got at least three stars. Two albums got two and a half stars, and one of those was "A Tribute to the Band by Various Artists." One album got only two stars, but that was Switchfoot. Such is Rolling Stones' method of record review.

Oh yeah, and the first (and only) review they gave to Ratatat was in 2004 when they wrote a story about their remixes. Maybe that's the real reason I hate Rolling Stone.

Anyway, I guess I haven't even gotten to how ridiculous it is that MTV is doing a show called "I'm From Rolling Stone." Or how there's an inset in the Letters section that basically pimps the magazine's executive editor Joe Levy. Select quote: "But here at Rolling Stone, he (Joe Levy) exudes the same suave cool, a voice of sanity in the crazier-than-Gnarls music world...Nobody can touch his fearsome, encyclopedic knowledge of music, movies and every other corner of pop culture - when you're in the mood to debate whether the Stones were better on Aftermath or Between the Buttons, or the right color suede shoes to wear with a midnight-blue suit, Joe is your guy." WHO WRITES THIS SHIT? Oh yeah, Rob Sheffield, an editor. Would I even want to be "from Rolling Stone"? Probably not, and that's too bad.

AnnouncementHolidayBreak

2006-12-29T00:07:00.000-06:00

Great Lakes Lesser Cities will not be posting until after the holidays. Expect a new post ringing in the new year around Jan. 4 or 5. In the meantime, please peruse our old posts, which you may have missed, but are assuredly worth your time.

ListTed's Top 10Albums of 2006

2006-12-11T12:55:00.000-06:00

It's the end of the year and that means that it's time for my top ten albums list of 2006. At the end of every mini-review/description or whatever you want to call it, I've included a link to a song that I think sums up the album it's from, or at least is one of the better songs from the album. The link takes you to a page where the song streams, so if you want to download the song to your computer just right-click and hit "save as" on the "Download This File" link on the bottom right. Well, without further ado, here are my Top 10 Albums of 2006:

10. The Decemberists "The Crane Wife"
-There's not much to be said about this album that Evan didn't already say in his review. Instead I'll just quote him: "When the sound of what can only be described as the sickest accordion/keyboard note this side of the Atlantic bleets above the rolling din of drums and vocals at 7:51 in the 'Landlord's Daughter' section of 'The Island,' you know you're listening to one of America's most important bands." Simply put, "The Island" is one of the best songs of the year and the fact that it clocks in at a whopping 12'26" does nothing to diminish its awesomeness.
Standout Track: "The Island"

9. Bonnie 'Prince' Billy "The Letting Go"
-I've been waiting for this album since Will Oldham's last album as Bonnie 'Prince' Billy, "Master and Everyone", came out in 2003. Between then and now, he has released a live album and an album as one-half of the duo Superwolf. With "The Letting Go" and the resumption of the BPB mantle, Oldham brings a return to form. As BPB, Oldham has mastered the art of creating albums that sound like a weathered old appalachian man singing about a lifetime full of heartbreak and disappointment. "The Letting Go" just builds on his trademark sound with the inclusion of a female backing vocalist on almost all of the tracks and a somewhat "slicker" production sound. But luckily for us, the darkness and pain of the previous BPB albums still remains.
Standout Track: "Cursed Sleep"

8. Spank Rock "YoYoYoYoYoYo"
-I don't really know how to describe Spank Rock. They're hip-hop, yes, but they're a lot more than that. The best way I've heard them described is when my friend told me they were "pure shake-your-ass music." And he was right. The beats are glitchy and super hard and their lyrics are just ridiculous. For example, one of the hooks for the song "Backyard Betty" is, "Ass-shaking competition champ/Oooh that pussy gets damp." I guess another, possibly more pretentious way to describe their sound would be to say they take certain aspects of American hip-hop and mix in British grime and garage with a dash of techno. But you should really just listen for yourself.
Standout Track: "Backyard Betty"

7. Justin Timberlake "FutureSex/LoveSounds"
-Some people may give me flak for this one, but this album is fucking good. Yes, Justin Timberlake used to be in N'Sync, and yes, he used to be a Mouseketeer, but damnit if our little JT hasn't grown up. This album is an ass-shaker and anyone who says otherwise is soulless. It's also more mature, in many ways, than his debut solo album, "Justified." It's got a darker vibe to it and the instrumentation and beats are more complex. One negative thing, though: the single "SexyBack" has been so overplayed that I want to break the radio everytime I hear it.
Standout Track: "FutureSex/LoveSound"

6. Girl Talk "Night Ripper"
-Apparently this was the year of awesome party albums. Girl Talk's "Night Ripper" is one album that could play at a party from start to finish and everyone would dance the entire way through. Here's the story behind "Night Ripper": Girl Talk is a DJ and this album consists entirely of mash-ups he's made of other people's songs. I think the number of songs used on this album is some ridiculous number like 150 or something. It's possible to recognize quite a few of them but some samples only last for a few beats so you have to listen closely. It seems like it could have been really easy for this album to become gimmicky but Girl Talk mixes these songs together so well that he really makes them his own.
Standout Track: "Once Again"

5. T.I. "King"
-Another one that I may get guff for. Again, I don't care. This is the only mainstream hip-hop album that I can listen to almost straight through. Many mainstream hip-hop albums are mostly all filler with a few really stand out singles but T.I.'s "King" is entirely the other way around. In addition to knocking out the filler, T.I. has also mastered the art of self-aggrandizement on this album. When he says, "I'm the king," you believe him. Also, the bass-lines and old school horn samples make this album perfect to cruise to on a hot summer day with the windows open and the volume up all the way.
Standout Track: "King Back"

4. Lily Allen "Alright Still"
-Who knew an album full of songs about a British girl's break-up could be so addicting? Lily Allen's "Alright Still" is just that. In addition to being incredibly poppy, it's also witty and bitchy and catty. In the song, "Not Big," she states, "I could see it in your face when you give it to me gently/Yeah, you really must think you're great/Let's see how you feel in a couple of weeks/When I work my way through your mates." The songs deal with issues like a break-up and drug abuse with a very laissez-faire attitude, super catchy hooks, and great choruses. The fact that it's so catchy is probably the reason it's so high on my list. Also, the fact that she's got a really cute accent and that she's pretty hot help, too.
Standout Track: "Smile"

3. Beck "The Information"
-I like Beck. I like Nigel Godrich. And when Beck and Nigel Godrich get together, I get very excited. "The Information" brings them together again and it's everything I hoped it would be. Beck has always been a little out there musically and this album is no different. What is different, however, is the cohesiveness of the album. Sure, there are songs where he raps and yes, there are songs where he sounds like an old-timey country singer, but thematically and musically, it all fits together. Don't ask me how, but it does.
Standout Track: "Dark Star"

2. Gnarls Barkley "St. Elsewhere"
-Did anyone think when they heard that Cee-Lo and Dangermouse were teaming up that it wouldn't be awesome? If anyone did, I hope that upon hearing "St. Elsewhere" their suspicions were put to rest. It was probably the most funkily eccentric album of the year and it also included one of the most catchy songs of all time. That, of course, being the hit single "Crazy." I still find to this day that I get that song stuck in my head. Plus, you could hardly go to a concert this year without hearing it covered by whoever was playing.
Standout Track: "Crazy"

1. Thom Yorke "The Eraser"
-Is anyone surprised by the fact that Thom Yorke's solo album is my number one album of the year? Probably not. BUT! It is an awesome album, nonetheless. How could it not be? Although, anyone who had been expecting another Radiohead album may have been a bit disappointed. It's definitely got more electronic bleeps and bloops, and more synths in the background. Also, there's no really straight up guitar or piano based songs. But if you take the time to listen to the songs individually and thoroughly, you will be greatly rewarded. The song "Analyse," for example, has one of the sickest bass-lines of the year, but I didn't notice until probably the fifth time I listened to it. And pretty much every song has incredible backing vocals, you just need to PAY ATTENTION. Go grab a pair of headphones and sit down with "The Eraser" and you will see why this is my number one album, regardless of the fact that it probably would have been even if it had just been Thom Yorke farting into a microphone.
Standout Track: "The Eraser"

That does it for my Top 10 List. I hope you all agree with me, but I'm sure some of you, maybe even most of you, don't. But that's what makes music great. I can be a snob and pretend I'm better than all of you if you don't like what I like!

StoryYou Don't WantMy Job

2006-12-08T19:18:00.000-06:00

When I'm at school in Milwaukee, I work as a parking enforcer for the university. This means that I'm the guy that's universally hated by everyone. Even people who don't have a car. As soon as I tell someone what I do the first words that come out of their mouth are almost always, "I fucking HATE you!" Really? You hate me? Personally? Now that you know what I do you all of a sudden hate me? Great. My job sucks enough without everyone I meet instantly deriding me.

Here's a typical shift as a parking enforcer: I get to work and gear up with my shitty yellow vest thing that turns me into a big blazing yellow target. Then I go out onto the campus and start making my rounds. It's even better now that it's December and it's practically -50000 Degrees below zero. So I'm out and about, doing my job, and I immediately feel like I have to watch my back.

I'm like the fucking parking NINJA. I'm in and out of those lots so fast that people don't even know what hit them. But sometimes I'm not fast enough and that's when I get shit on. Here's an example: One time I was out working and I was in this medium-sized lot when I look over at this area that I had already been in and I see this lady looking around madly. I see her see me. She sees me see her. She yells at the top of her lungs, "FUCK YOU YOU MOTHERFUCKERIN' ASSHOLE!" Then she gets in her car and drives away. She's content to vent at me. She doesn't feel the need to come over to me and challenge the ticket, even though if she had I would have taken it back. My boss' policy is if someone comes up to you while you're writing a ticket, you cancel it immediately and walk away. My own policy is if someone comes up to me within five minuts of me writing the ticket, I take it and write on it, "Person came while ticket was printing," and then I walk away. No questions asked.

I don't like giving tickets, OK? I don't like being a dick who has to make people pay $20-$30 for a stupid ticket. Let me stress this again. I'M JUST DOING MY JOB. I don't like my job. I don't like being universally hated. But if I didn't do it, I wouldn't get paid. And it helps that it's the highest paying job on campus, all right? It's nice to make some money. And yes, sometimes when I'm in a bad mood I like giving out tickets and making other people pissed off. But most of the time I'm a nice person. So fuck you.

ImageTerrorSuspect

2006-12-04T01:20:00.000-06:00

ListPeople Can't Spell!

2006-12-03T18:31:00.000-06:00

I work at a medical clinic over the summers. One of the departments I work in is the International Travel department which gives people immunizations and information to help them while they're travelling abroad. In addition to having me and the other people at our desk schedule appointments, we also have this place called Centralized Scheduling which gets all the run-off calls from all the departments in the clinic and schedules appointments for them. For some reason it seems that a lot of the people in Centralized don't really know their geography that well. Here is a list of some of their spelling mistakes from the last 3 months. Some of them are pretty understandable, but a few are just ridiculous:

Chili
Figi
Egpty
Telabiv
Tilan (I assume this is Thailand?)
Ethopia
Handoras
Indonsia
S. Afrifica/Nimibia
Bejing
Shanghei
Gutemala
Batzwana
Gualtemala
Equador
Jamaca
Nyrobi
Equidore
Zimbobway
Hondrus
Malie
Bulivia
Guademala
Isreal
Cancau, then the next appointment said Cancaun
Erope/New Zeland/Austraille (Probably my favorite. The guy's 3 for 3 on this one)
Zimbabwai
Numibia
Argintina
Coasta Rica
Gona

ListIf Car NamesReflected Reality

2006-11-30T03:48:00.000-06:00

Mustang: Car used to be able to gallop freely over the prarie. Then man came, tamed the car and domesticated it. Now the car is forced to prance around like a pansy at circus shows.

Jaguar: Car hides in the driveway behind the rose bushes for several days. When your 9-year-old son emerges from the house to go to school one morning the car pounces, mauls him to death and leaves his carcass in the oak tree for later.

Matrix: Entering the car transports you to another world populated by threatening men in black suits who can replicate themselves by the hundreds and attack you with martial arts.

Hummer: You typically receive this car after 2-4 dates, depending.

Viper: Car delivers a deadly venomous strike if you approach with sudden or threatening movements.

Edge: Car often plummets off abrupt precipices.

Cavalier: Car seems to take even the most sad and depressing events with an alarmingly positive and flippant attitude. Car also wears stirrups and carries a sword.

Aztek: Car will use you as a sacrifice to appease the gods.

LeBaron: Car used to own a vast estate in the south of France. Though it was raised to take on the responsibility of its father's winery and assume its rightful place at the head of the family, recent economic restrictions passed by French legislators have stripped the car of its expected inheritance. The car now slums around the beaches of Ibiza looking for club girls who get off on its majestic-sounding name.

Focus: Car studies way too much for its own good, really needs to get out more.

Thunderbird: CAR HAS RISEN FROM THE ASHES OF THE AGE OF GIANTS. CAR WILL DESCEND UPON THE MORTALS AND REVEAL ITSELF IN THE FORM OF THE MIGHTY SKY HAWK. GREAT STORMS AND EARTH-SHATTERING CATACLYSMS WILL HERALD THE ARRIVAL OF THE CAR.

FoundMr. Johnson'sOpus

2006-11-21T01:04:00.000-06:00

The following is what seems to be a letter of recommendation and a personal essay that I found sitting on the counter at the local Little Caesar's. As you can probably tell just by reading it, the letter of recommendation was not actually written by the teacher, Mr. Kawitzki. It seems, instead, to have been written by the student, Mr. Johnson, who is also the author of the personal essay. The original is written on loose leaf notebook paper with a pen, in all the same handwriting, and has dozens of crossed-out sections. I reproduced as much of it as possible, including the crossed-out sections and the portions that were added between words, which I included as super-scripts. There are a few parts that I couldn't really make out. I labeled those as "(illegible)". All of the spelling and grammatical mistakes are the author's own. I have changed nothing but the names of the boy and his teacher. So enjoy, and feel guilty for enjoying, the troubled life of Marcus:

UW-Milwaukee
Marquette University
UW-Parkside
MATC

My Name is Mr. Kawitzki and I ~~was~~ ~~Mar~~ Hearby writing a letter of Recomendation for Marcus Williams. I taught marcus During his junior year course of Chemistry. Although did not achieve the highest grades in my class, I felt that he made the biggest impact in the classroom. Marcus always took the leadership roles in ~~and outside of~~ my class. He was very smart, Respectful, and had as much potential as all of my students combined. Marcus was one of my best students that year, but there seemed to be something about I couldnt quite figure out. He always seemed ~~so down as if something was troubling him~~ to be hiding something inside. Being curious I pulled Marcus to the side ^{one day} and asked ~~was~~ had there been anything ~~wrong~~ troubling him and he begin to tell me about his situation at home. He told me how his mom was going through a very ~~hard~~ abusive relationship and that he hardly ever get time to sleep ^{or study} because there was always arguing ~~going on or~~ and fighting going on and he was worried ~~(illegible) him mom (illegible) be attacked by her boyfriend~~ for the well being and safety of his mom. this situation troubled Marcus ~~but~~ and he ~~felt that all he could do is wait for a way out~~ always hoped for a way out for him, his little sister and mom. The situation at hand ~~was a continuing situation which lasted~~ had been taking place all of high school thus far. AT the beginning of his senior year, he came to me very happy and egor to get an education. He told me that ~~the~~ his mom was finally able to get away from the abusive situation and they finally were happy. After years of torture and abuse Marcus was finally able to ~~get out of~~ focus on school work and his future; not having to worry about the well-being of his family. since then he has shown a remarkable improvement ~~increase in grades; (illegible) and his (illegible) knowlege.~~ his grades are increasing; he's getting time to sleep and now has time to study for the ACT which he didn't do good on the first time because of this. In concluding this letter of Recomendation, I feel that Marcus would make a ~~good~~ positive impact on your campus and anyone who gets to know him. After all, someone who has been through so much ^{and still wants to go to college} deserves a chance a promising future.

I feel that I would be an excellent attribute to your college campus because I am smart, responsible, respectful, and I love school. Although I don't have the best of grades ~~one~~ I have a world full of potential that makes up for it. ~~Throughout my life thus far,~~ For the last 4 years, I have experienced a great deal of hardships to overcome ~~for almost 4 years.~~ I have to ~~witnessed~~ live through my mother being abused and I having to worry about weather or not ~~my family~~ we would ever make it to the next day. Sometimes I wouldn't go to sleep at night because I was to afraid of what the would happen ~~to my family and I~~ overnight. The nights when I did get sleep I was always tossing and turning or I would have to get up because of all the arguing and fighting going on in the back ground. this hardship has tarnished my school records ^{and cause me to do not so well in school}. I never had time to study and hardly anytime to do homework because I either had to babysit my little sister or go to work; which I was forced to do to help provide for my family. When I did have free time, I tried to attend some of the many ~~scholar~~ pre-college programs that I was in ^{to make up for loss study time. Although it helped it simply wasn't enough to catch up my grades.} I ~~was~~ am currently still enrolled in the Educational Talent Search ~~program~~ which is a pre college program through UW-Milwauke and being involved in this program, I am always on the UW-Milwaukee campus which helps me to adapt to college life. ~~In my free time~~ I also try to ~~do some~~ give back to the community by volunteering. I have help the elderly rake leaves or shovel snow, I have helped out with donating clothes to the Easter Seals of Wisconsin ~~which is~~, I helped Fox 6 hand out food to the less fortunate, and I help collect can-goods for the homeless. This helped me feel as if I was doing something good for those who have gone through complications in life as i had. Although I have struggled in high school my freshman, sophomore, and junior year, I am back on the right track as my family is finally Rid of the problem that has held us back for almost 4 yrs. I now have time to study, time for homework, and time to participate in school. This year I joined my schools (illegible) and chess team which helps keep me focused. My life is completely turned around and I am ready for a promising future and a college education. Afterall, someone who has endured as much as I have, deserves a ^second chance at life.

Wisconsin TownsThat Wouldn't Be Out of Placein a Fantasy Novel

2006-11-20T13:15:00.000-06:00

Albion (pop. 1,093)
Amnicon (pop. 1,074)
Arbor Vitae (pop. 3,153)
Arcadia (pop. 1,555)
Aztalan (pop. 1,447)
Bonduel (pop. 1,416)
Bovina (pop. 1,130)
Brillion (pop. 1,438)
Calamus (pop. 1,005)
Caledonia (pop. 1,466)
Christiana (pop. 1,313)
Ettrick (pop. 1,284)
Eureka (pop. 1,338)
Excelsior (pop. 1,410)
Fredonia (pop. 1,934)
Genesee (pop. 7,284)
Gibraltar (pop. 1,063)
Hortonia (pop. 1,063)
Iola (pop. 1,298)
Ixonia (pop. 2,902)
Ladysmith (pop. 3,932)
Laona (pop. 1,367)
Plover (pop. 2,415)
Rubicon (pop. 2,005)
Sevastopol (pop. 2,667)
Trimbelle (pop. 1,511)
Utica (pop. 1,168)

Music ReviewThe Decemberists"The Crane Wife"

2006-11-16T18:30:00.000-06:00

When I was in my late one's, maybe around eight years old, my Dad and I were big into playing Transformers with each other. Our favorite activity involved setting up two vast opposing armies of Decepticons and Autobots in our living room and pitting them against each other in combat while a dramatic soundtrack played in the background. We always used my Dad's music - his record collection was constantly scattered enticingly around the house - but we both knew which song to play at the battle's climax. For the longest time I only knew it as "The Wild Song," our private slang for the tune. But in high school I finally found out that all along we had been setting our cinematic war to The Pogue's "Turkish Song of the Damned," off of If I Should Fall from Grace with God. If I ever have kids, we will set up whichever toys are popular and fight them against each other, and the song I'll play will be The Decemberists' 12-minute epic "The Island."

Leading music review sites and magazines have already showered The Crane Wife with glory. The reviewer at Tiny Mix Tapes even suggested he almost quit the business of writing about music after the epiphany of listening to the album. While it's not quite that life-changing, Crane Wife is still definitely an excellent work. When the sound of what can only be described as the sickest accordion/keyboard note this side of the Atlantic bleets above the rolling din of drums and vocals at 7:51 in the "Landlord's Daughter" section of "The Island," you know you're listening to one of America's most important bands.

The album is framed in reverse order by two songs (The Crane Wife, Pt.3 and The Crane Wife, Pts. 1 & 2) that retell a Japanese folk tale about a farmer who finds a beautiful wife adept at weaving but becomes greedy, forcing her to change back into the crane she really wa and fly away from him forever (hey, it's a folk tale). Colin Meloy, the Decemberists' frontman whose voice I wish I could bottle and preserve forever, said in an interview with Pitchfork Media that Crane Wife is not a concept album. If it had been, we probably would have to listen to 10 bombastic, allegorical pieces of prog rock rather than just one, 12-minute, amazing piece of prog-rock, and the songs on the album which actually do tell the Crane Wife story would lose all their effectiveness.

As for the rest of the album, the seven songs planted between the opening and two-track-long finale run the gamut of classic Decemberist characters, including separated Civil War-era lovers, bank robbers and Irish serial killers. Listeners accustomed to the orchestral richness of Picaresque songs like "We Both Go Down Together" and "16 Military Wives" will find on Crane Wife a much sparer production. But that's not as bad as it might sound; the disciplined composition opens up space for Meloy's maturing vocal talents and memorable guitar moments like the slick, three-note stab at 1:43 in "The Perfect Crime #2."

Despite the epic musicianship which marks the the first nine of the album's ten tracks, the Decemberists reach the pinnacle of their career to date in the final song, "Sons and Daughters." Following the heartache of "Crane Wife Pts. 1 & 2," the five-minute long triumphal march inexorably raises the listener to an ecstatic height, calling "Take up your arm, sons and daughters/we will arise from the bunkers/by land, by sea, by dirigible/we'll leave our tracks untraceable now." By the time the full band begins chanting "Hear all the bombs fade away," over a crescendoing accordion and pulsing drums, you can't help but feel that despite the gloom in the world today, the Decemberists will always be there to tell you a good story.

True StoryThe SearchforMy HiddenSuper Power

2006-11-16T15:20:00.000-06:00

Lately, I've been really obsessed with the idea that I have a hidden super power. It must just be that I don't know what it is yet because I haven't tried the right one. This revelation led me to create a list of every super power I could think of, which I then went through, one by one, to see if I did in fact have any extraordinary abilities:

Flight: I kind of half-assed this one. While I was walking around outside I closed my eyes really hard and tried to concentrate on my body lifting off the ground. Obviously nothing happened but I think to really test this one I need to jump off something. But then there's always the horrible possibility that I don't have the power of flight and that I'll just kill myself. I'll just assume for now that I can't fly and move on.

Telekinesis: This is the ability to move things with your mind. I actually did put quite a bit of effort into this. I was sitting in a chair in a lounge on campus with a little thing of milk I was drinking sitting on the table directly next to me. I placed my hand around the milk container like I was going to grab it but I kept my hand about an inch or so away from it. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on the space between my hand and the container . Then, I tried to focus on the molecules between them and attempted to make the milk carton come to me. I tried this for like two minutes before I realized that I probably looked really creepy just sitting there with my eyes closed, a look of intense concentration on my face, and my hand on this milk carton. So I got up and left. Scratch that power.

Super Strength: I'm pretty sure I would know if I had this power. And I don't. The most I could ever bench press in my high school weight training class was 165 pounds. Strike three on the powers list.

Tissue Regeneration: I burned my finger with a match two weekends ago and it's still not even completely healed. Maybe I have the opposite of this power? But I guess that would be like tissue necrosis or something and I would have gangrene all the time. Gross.

Weather Control: I know I don't have this power because I used to be incredibly scared of tornadoes and even thunderstorms in general. I'm pretty sure this ability would have manifested itself already while I was desperately praying for the clouds to go away and trying not to piss my pants while cowering in my basement.

Freeze Time: I tried to see if I had this power many times during high school. Who doesn't want to stop time and touch a girl's boobs? Well, I guess a gay person, but the consequence-free genitalia-touching idea remains the same. Needless to say I regrettably don't have this power.

Invisibility: I tried this before for the same reasons as above. Again, unfortunately, it was a no go.

Walk Through Walls: This power has always kind of puzzled me. When people walk through walls, I assume that their molecules change somehow to allow them to pass through. But how do their clothes and other accessories stay on them? Wouldn't you walk through a wall and come through naked on the other side? And when you do switch your molecules around, what's to stop you from falling through the floor? It's totally mind-boggling. Oh, and no, I don't have it.

Shoot Lasers From The Eyes: I have tried this, but on more careful consideration, I realized I wouldn't really want this power. What if I became like Cyclops from the X-Men and I had to wear sunglasses or a visor all the time? How does he fall asleep with that thing on? I guess I would like it if I could turn it on and off like Superman, but other than that it would kind of suck.

Obviously this list could go on and on, but I don't want to bore you with the powers I don't have. Instead, I will now reveal the power I do have......

Power Mimicry: I have come to the conclusion that I must have the ability to take on the powers of those around me. The only problem is I'm the only one in the world with a super power that I've met so far, so nothing has really happened with it yet. But give it time and you'll see what I mean.

LiteratureSelected JournalsfromNorthwestern's Library

2006-11-16T12:48:00.001-06:00

"The Ephemeral Cape St. George Shipwreck
on the Northern Gulf Coast"
by Nancy Marie White
The Florida Anthropologist, June, 2006

First discovered in the spring of 2006, the shipwreck on the cape section of Little St. George Island in Franklin County, designated 8FR857, was recorded during July 1996 as part of an archaeological survey in the path of 1994 tropical storms Alberto and Beryl. The shipwreck is a portion of a large wooden cargo vessel believed to be American or British, which apparently wrecked some time around 1870 to 1890. It was copper-sheathed, with fasteners of copper, iron, Muntz metal, and wood (trunnels or "tree nails"). It was probably one of hundreds of vessels participating in the global commerce involving forest products and other commodities harvested throughout the nineteenth century in northwest Florida. Like any shipwreck, it must be understood within the cultural systems of its time (Gould 1983, Lenihan 1983, Murphy 1983, Watson 1983). The dynamic environment of the Gulf shore resulted in greater exposure of the wreck after it was first recorded, but it was difficult to monitor due to its isolated location. The sea and sand then reclaimed the material evidence; the wreck disappeared in a little over two years. This article expands upon the original report of this shipwreck (White 1996:70-72) in order to describe the evidence, place the ship within its historical and socioeconomic context, and show the behavior of natural site formation processes in this very dynamic coastal environment.