Category Archives: Culture Jammin’

Twitter Q&A-type thing

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Well technically I said “everything hurts” and not “Everybody Hurts,” but I’ll confess I sort of have a soft spot for R.E.M.

I guess really there’s no spot anyone has for R.E.M. that’s not soft, is the thing. What I’m saying is I don’t hate them as much as some of my contemporaries do, mostly because I think the song “Stand” is hilarious and it makes me happy every time I hear it. That’s at least partly because it was the theme song for the amazing Chris Elliot show Get A Life, but also because I love singing along with the “NOW FACE NORTH!” background vocal parts.

And furthermore, “Everybody Hurts” would make for hilarious closer music. I’ve been through that before though.

Oh man, that’s such a good question, and one for which the answer would inevitably change every time I attempted it. Thing is, in an actual desert-island scenario I’d probably try to go with a good mix of genres so I had something for every possible mood. But let me start with the obvious ones and see where it goes.

First, Dark Side. Maybe that’s a cliched choice or whatever, but there’s just no way I could imagine life without having access to the last five-song sequence there, which might be the pinnacle of human achievement. And it sucks that it’s such a short album because if I can only choose five I feel like I’m giving up some music then, but you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do. I like to think of what it must have looked like when Pink Floyd first sat down and listened to that album all the way through, with the ridiculously triumphant ending and everything. “OK, yeah, I think we’re good bro.”

Second, James Brown’s Love Power Peace live album. There are going to be some funky times on this island, and I can think of no one better to provide the soundtrack than the Godfather of Soul, Mr. Please Please himself. I like James Brown’s live stuff better than his studio recordings, and this incarnation of the JBs features Bootsy and Catfish Collins and funk trombone hero Fred Wesley. No Maceo, sadly.

OK now it gets really hard. No way I can get by without something from the Beatles, though, which means I’ll take Abbey Road.

Man, that gives me nothing after 1973, and, truth be told, none of the albums I actually listen to most on the day-to-day. I’m panicking now. I gotta choose between Dr. Dre and the Wu-Tang Clan? I guess I’ll go with Enter the Wu-Tang because East Coast and everything. After that… I don’t know.

My 7th grade self would be disappointed in me if it wasn’t Nevermind, my 10th grade self would be disappointed if it wasn’t Punk in Drublic, my 12th grade self would be disappointed if it wasn’t Odelay, and various incarnations of me would want the eponymous Rage Against the Machine album. Punk in Drublic, though, contains “Jeff Wears Birkenstocks,” which is one of the few songs absolutely guaranteed to make me happy, so that might give it an edge. But a bunch of CAKE albums need to be considered too.

How about a little optimism? I’ll go with yes. Is that Mets-fan Polyannaism? Maybe. But as I’ve written countless times, Sandy Alderson should be able to see the value in Reyes, since Reyes is an elite 28-year-old shortstop. I think the whole not-a-Moneyball-player talk is overblown by people who either didn’t read or didn’t really understand the point of Moneyball.

The Mets have a ton of money coming off the books and, as a big market baseball franchise with a television network, have a steady stream of money coming in. They should have no problem finding the money to re-sign Reyes, especially if they can find a part-owner to increase their financial flexibility. The decision should come down not to if they can but if they should, and given how infrequently players like Reyes become free agents and how slim the pickings at shortstop will be otherwise, it seems like re-signing him will be a smart move.

Hu has been brutal, and since Justin Turner can back up shortstop in a pinch it doesn’t seem like there’s much need for him on the team.

But are people really down on Lucas Duda already? And look: I know I can’t go killing Hu because of 18 at-bats then screaming about small sample size with Duda, but there’s actually evidence that Duda can hit — which doesn’t exist with Hu. Duda has suffered from a brutal .205 batting average on balls in play in the Majors (compare to a career Minor League rate well over .300). Even before his power explosion in 2010, Duda got on base at every level in the Minors. He should eventually do so in the Majors too. He just needs more than 115 plate appearances to prove that.

Real men drive Hyundais

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Turns out Ron Artest is a Hyundai driver. Via Jalopnik:

Artest got the car as a gift from George Lopez, apparently.

Obviously the Lakers details are ridiculous, but I’ll say this: The Hyundai Genesis is pretty awesome. I sat in one and played with the gadgets while I was in the dealership waiting on the paperwork for my own Hyundai, which, believe it or not, is significantly less flashy than Ron Artest’s Hyundai.

Also, here is an excerpt from Ron Artest’s Wikipedia page:

In a December 2009 Sporting News interview, Artest admitted that he had led a “wild” lifestyle as a young player, and that he drank Hennessy cognac in the locker room at halftime when he was playing for the Chicago Bulls at the beginning of his NBA career.[40] During his rookie season in Chicago, he was criticized for applying for a job at Circuit City in order to get an employee discount.[41][42] He once attended a practice with the Indiana Pacers in a bath robe.[43] He was suspended for two games in the early 2004–05 season by Pacers coach Rick Carlisle after he allegedly asked for a month off because he was tired from promoting an R&B album for the group Allure on his production label.[41] Artest had also been suspended for three games in 2003 for destroying a television camera at Madison Square Garden, and for four games for a confrontation with Miami Heat coach Pat Riley in 2003.

From the Wikipedia: Man vs. Wild

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I have never seen this show. Maybe it is good.

From the Wikipedia: Man vs. Wild.

OK, here’s the thing: Man already beat wild. Beat the living tar out of it. Man beat wild so thoroughly that we have to set up parks and wildlife preserves just to make sure man doesn’t beat wild all the way into oblivion. A TKO. Not the type of outcome that merits a rematch.

We haven’t yet figured out how to deal with the various difficulties posed by the proliferation of our own species. But wild — as long as we’re defining “wild” as something distinct from “man” — for most of us, is taken care of.

I am fortunate to spend nearly every night in a bed under the shelter of a roof with the temperature regulated at around 65 degrees by either air conditioning or heat. Every weekday I wake up, check my email, take a shower, eat breakfast, and walk to the train station unimpeded by nature. Sometimes it rains, but I can prepare for that. I get on the train and it speeds to New York City, where I then proceed to my office undeterred by fauna or flora.

In day-to-day life, the only time I could ever be reasonably endangered by wildlife is if I hit it with my car. About once every five years I get stung by a bee and it hurts for a few minutes. My neighbor’s dog bit my wife in the leg while she was out running last week; she got a small cut and a bruise but she was able to finish her jog.

In my kitchen, I have the flesh of at least eight different types of animal. Eventually I’m going to eat it. But it’s no rush — I have a freezer, an innovation that ensures I can keep food for months without it spoiling. I never need to hunt or forage. At a supermarket within a mile of my home, I can use paper money or a plastic card to purchase everything I need to keep me sustained.

According to the Wikipedia, on the show Man vs. Wild this guy Bear Grylls gets “stranded” in a different remote location every episode. That never happens to me. He’s not really stranded, either, of course. He’s there with a whole production crew, there’s often a helicopter nearby, and supposedly he sometimes spends nights in hotels. Those probably have mini-bars and breakfast buffets in case he gets hungry.

Apparently Grylls is briefed on the dangers present in each locale beforehand by a local expert. If you are ever really going to be stranded somewhere, make sure to hook up with a local expert first, because I bet that background information is awfully convenient.

But again, if you’re lucky enough to be in some situation that permits you to be reading this website on a Tuesday afternoon, you probably run little risk of being involuntarily ditched in any remote location, or even voluntarily winding up alone in any remote location unless you specifically want to test your so-called “survival” skills. And because of that, it seems weird to call them survival skills at all. Optional recreational strategies, really.

I live a remarkably sheltered life — as evidenced, like I said, by the suburban shelter under which I rest at night. One time I had to hitchhike on the side of I-95 and another time I had to pull out some Die-Hard stuff to break into my own apartment via the fire escape when I had been locked out. But really, the only survival skills I have ever needed are the ones that have helped me land and maintain a job in this economy, and the ones, I suppose, that prevent me from killing myself with drugs, alcohol and deep-fried food.

Perhaps that’s pathetic and I am somehow less masculine for having no urge to convene with nature in the pseudo-dangerous way Grylls apparently favors. Or maybe our forefathers, the real frontiersmen of yesteryear, would — once they came to grips with the oddities of time travel, electricity and broadcast television — watch Man vs. Wild and yell, “Holy hell man, what are you doing? We did this so you don’t have to, you crazy bastard.”

Anyway, the show has been on for six seasons so a lot of people must find it pretty entertaining. Not trying to hate or anything. Just sayin’s all.