…A special message, left for the man who constantly leaves the newspaper spread out on the bathroom floor at work.
Archive for August, 2008
Sure, you may say, it’s OK. Lot’s of people like Coldplay. They’re one of the most popular bands in the world. It’s acceptable to appreciate the soft melodies and politically-conscious lyrics and the guyliner and the “Make Trade Fair” stuff and … oh, I think I just made myself sick.
I guess it’s not much of a secret to those of you that know me (which, as of now, is probably the sole readership of this thing) but I have been known to exhibit questionable taste at times – like, for instance, the other day when I begged off a free dinner invitation from my sister because I had to make it home in time to see Road House 2 on Spike (see: Things I Am Ashamed To Like, Vol 37). It’s as my friend Bob says, “I don’t so much accept these things, as I accept that they happened and, well, I can look beyond it I suppose.”
Anyway, let’s dissect this thing a little further so that we can arrive at a little something my therapist calls “desperately-needed closure.”
Why I Should Be Ashamed:
I think this pretty much sums it up. At some point Coldplay went from being the kind of dorky but likeable band that reminded everyone of non-depressing Radiohead to three dudes, Chris Martin and his magical, pulsating, purple lightning-spewing hands. Look at how intense the drummer is; he has little to no role in this commercial (or band really), but damned if he isn’t going to sing the shit out of his background vocals. Watching him is just damned depressing, like watching The Last Waltz and seeing Robbie Robertson sing his little heart out on that microphone that was secretly turned off.
…and then there’s Chris. Granted, I realize he’s the lead singer in one of the biggest bands in the world and he’s married to a Hollywood superstar and all, but “Holy self-important, Batman” can one human being really take themselves THAT seriously all the time. Favorite Chris Martin quote: “A name is just a noise, and if you like it then fuck what everyone else thinks.” And I, for one, concur; when I name my first-born Untitled Asshole Alexander, I know for one that I won’t let the tears from getting his ass kicked for such a shitty name phase me, because they’re just white noise after all.
Anyway, back to the video, my initial reaction was that it was gayer than two dudes getting it on. My second reaction was that, hey, it’s kind of catchy. My third reaction was to curse Chris Martin for his hooks and to just drink away the impure thoughts (“No, Jesus. It’s not like that. I swear.”)
Why I Pretend Not To Care What You Think About This:
Because Coldplay is just noise, bland, atmospheric, pleasant and easy-to-ignore noise and I like it (Hey, thanks Chris!). So I don’t give a fuck what you think.
Listening to an overabundance of Coldplay can lead to weeping, a heightened emotional state and possible male menopause. I think I need to get back in touch with the testosterone within. I’m going to go watch Road House and eat a steak, extra rare.
p.s. lest you think I hate Coldplay, here is my favorite song: Amsterdam
Life sure isn’t easy living on Gay Street. Especially if you’re the Jesus-loving folks at Second Baptist Church, whose house of worship sits at the intersection of Gay and, hopefully, Irony Street.
That the San Antonio congregation has petitioned the city for a name change is no surprise. To quote one “churchgoer”: “First of all, Gay Street, that’s not a proper name because I’m anti-gay.” The church has proposed Second Baptist Way as a suitable replacement, but I can think of a few better options…
…to the a-hole that flipped me the bird this afternoon, AFTER running a red light and nearly hitting me.
In no particular order…
Inform him that Jheri curl has been out of style since 1990, and, since that time, only one man has ever been known to pull of that look…
Recreate any number of steps taken in this video…
Track him down and lock him in a closet with these people until he goes insane…
Trap him in a room and force him to listen to this on a constant loop…
Have my friend “The Enforcer” take care of business…
OK, so you pretty much just had the same exact thought I did.
So, just to be clear on this, somewhere out there there’s a dude who just can’t quite get a handle on this NASCAR thing. “So whatta they just like keep goin in circles? This is some complicated shit.”
Seriously, can you believe this crap? Not to be too harsh, but damn man. If crap could take a dump, this is what would probably come out … ok, maybe that was harsh. Retracted.
Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe there really is something there. Maybe the filmmaker is trying to paint some sort of Dorian Gray-like metaphor about how the mirrors show us the physical burden of age and sin from which Kiefer has been spared, ultimately asserting itself as his conscience and hounding him with the knowledge of some sort of wrong he may have committed … or they could’ve just said “Fuck it, get me Jack Bauer and The Ring: The Director’s Cut!”
Either way, I’m pretty sure the only way this thing could be salvaged for me is if Jack spends the last half hour running around blowing stuff up and shouting things like “We have to find the detonators!” and “Damn it, Chloe! I need more time!” or “I can’t believe they let me out of jail to film this crap!”
OK, after yesterday’s post perhaps it’s time to get back to something a little lighter. Besides, I’ve already gone through the six stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance, Hall & Oates). How about a mixtape?
I Feel It All – Feist (for Ide)
Follow the link to download. If you like what you hear buy something!