I get a kick out of Muppet parodies. As such, I enjoyed the Bert Is Evil craze of the late '90s, and more recently, I find Orange Oscar sort of amusing on Twitter. ... But Sad Kermit is the next level. I don’t know how I completely missed out on Sad Kermit when he made his debut in 2007, but I’m absolutely slayed by him. »»
You know those people who always seem to find a deeper meaning in everything? ("Everything is art, and nothing is in vain!") They started in high school by taking a photo class and listening to The Cure, and from there escalated into constantly working on their "art," saying they are just so busy because of the new installation piece they're working on. ... »»
I'm in a weird place right now. Usually, I tend to be optimistic in my outlook, and genuinely believe that everything will work out. I try not to sweat things or stress things, and I just try to be mellow in my everyday activity.
But right now I'm bummed out. There was this one thing that I swore was going to happen, but I'm doubtful that it will come to pass now. I mean, I'm talking, I believed it with all of my core, despite all indications to the contrary. But finally, something occurred that appears to be the straw that broke the camel's back and now I'm basically without the thing that was the light at the end of my tunnel. (Man, I totally wish I could have crammed in more clichés in that last sentence.)
As a result I've been in a real down mood. The music that I've been listening to for the past few days isn't necessarily the stuff that's going to make me feel better; in fact, it might feed my melancholy into a full-blown depression. But it's what I want to listen to, I'm not quite sure I want to get over it right now, I sort of want to respect that dream of mine has died and will mourn it accordingly.
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Every November I get on some sort of musical kick. A couple years ago I was all about Death Cab for Cutie. Last year Elliott Smith provided my soundtrack for the month. And this year it's jazz.
Of course, for the last three years I've also been doing that whole National Novel Writing Month project. That means I'm pretty much chained to my keyboard for the entire month. And since I'm being mono in my activity, I tend to be mono in my music as well. There's a possibility that I've got issues with focusing, and since I'm applying focus in one aspect of my life, it carries over into others. But that's pure conjecture.
Anyway, I basically stumbled onto jazz this month. I'd actually sorted out all of my instrumental albums into groups of five (my player's capacity), and had intended to run through a group a day and then cycle though again as necessary. I had themes like "Wu-Tang", "Classic Albums" and "Jay Dilla".
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I'm really down about being broke.
I mean, I'm sure that most broke folks are down about being broke, so my feelings are nothing new. That said, I kinda had plans for artists that I was going dive headfirst into, and because of my lack of disposable income, those plans are currently on hold.
For instance, I recently became a fan of Iron & Wine and I was planning on pick up Sam's entire catalogue. The Shepherd's Dog is what won me over first. Then I picked up Our Endless Numbered Days, and I was convinced this was an artist that I wanted to get into. And then the money ran out.
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Had I have known that I was going to be stuck with the same 1,153 tracks for a month, I would have been a little more discriminating.
Way back, as April was drawing to a close, I casually synced my iPod to my computer. It's the type of thing that I do all the time. The music on my iPod is pretty fluid, as there's always new stuff coming and old stuff leaving. My mood is constantly changing; thus, the music I want as my soundtrack is in an equal state of shift.
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There was no way that I could have brought my computer with when I moved back to Baltimore. It would have been impossible. So lamenting the fact that I don't have it is juvenile. I can't (yet) afford to pay the price to have it shipped out here, and I couldn't have brought it with me. That narrows down my options to "none." Still, I'm missing my computer badly, and for numerous reasons... »»
In February 2007, I set out on a mission; devote a week each to fifty-two albums that somehow got lost in the shuffle after I purchased them. I figured that by putting them in heavy rotation for seven days it would atone for the years of neglect they'd suffered.
And here we are, a year and two months later and I'm finally done. I actually finished listening to the last album on the list a month ago, but somewhere along the line I'd gotten behind on the write-ups—a month behind. Still, when that last day rolled around I was pretty happy to clear that final album from my iPod.
All in all, I think the project was a success. There were a few albums in my collection that were, up to that point, there just for show. But now I can not only say "that album sucks/rocks" but I can also suggest tracks that a person may enjoy.
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