Why I Oughtta

You guys all know that I’m illiterate, right?

I mean, I know I was an English major and all, but that just means that I did closed readings of small passages and tried to extrapolate from there. There’s so much shit I didn’t read that I was supposed to.

Anyways, I’m going to try to make up for that by reading all the classics that I haven’t read that I really should have. I’m trying to find a 100 best novels of all time list and I’m having a little bit of trouble selecting one. Some of the publishers’ lists seem a bit lenient to their own titles, and some of them have time restrictions (only 20th century, etc.).

I do like this one, though. It’s by some professor dude. And I like this one from the Guardian as well.

1. No one seems to like the new Rilo Kiley. But, hell, I like it a lot from what I’ve heard so far. Suck on it, Pitchfork!
2. Oh My God I’m Turning Into Hello Kitty is still going. And I even got a high-ish profile link.
3. Stream the new Pipettes songs that are going to be on the domestic edition of “We Are the Pipettes.”
4. This is a good Natalie Dee.
5. I bought some oats, thinking that it would be a nice, sugar-free alternative to my usual packaged oatmeal. Unfortunately, they were ass-nasty just eating them plain.  So, maybe I should make a few batches of these and you guys can help me eat them.  ‘kay?
6. I kind of love this song by Northern State, even if it’s sort of cheesy.

   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JwRKDKGgIMY

Continuing in the series of bands I love with exclamation points in the name (Oh No! Oh My!, The Go! Team, Pony Up!), there’s the Welsh band Los Campesinos. If I were truly OCD, I’d try to make the upside-down Spanish exclamation point before “Los.” Lucky for you, my laziness trumps my commitment to linguistic accuracy.

As I said, Los Campesinos are from Cardiff, Wales. Considering I’m recommending them, it shouldn’t be surprised that they feature boy/girl vocals, bouncy rhythms, liberal violins and unabashedly poppy melodies.

I would be a little hard-pressed to put the band in “cute” category. They rock harder than most twee pop acts. I’d probably say they’re closer to Architecture in Helsinki than, say, Tilly and the Wall.

They’re just really quirky, and it comes through in their songwriting most of all. I have to admit — and this is really embarrassing to say, as a writer — that it’s not terribly often that I get caught up in lyrics. But their sense of fun catches my ear. Take the chorus of “Death to Los Campesinos!”: If you catch me with the hands in the till/ I promise, sugar, I wasn’t trying to steal/ I’m just swimming in copper/ To smell and pretend like I’m a robot.

Here’s the video for “You! Me! Dancing!” It’s a long song, but very enjoyable and the animated video is pretty cool. After that, go to their MySpace and listen to “Sweet Dreams Sweet Cheeks.”

1. This is just an mp3 recommendation. I’m digging the song Butterfly Nets by Bishop Allen. A lot. It’s this quiet and playful song that has a sort of wistful quality about it. Resigned, but hopeful — although that kind of seems like a contradiction. It’s like a beginning-to-feel-better-after-a-breakup-or-bad-day song. Download it here.
2. Threadless is having a $10 sale.
3. Elvis Perkins has a video for While You Were Sleeping.
4. Can you imagine your workplace doing this?
5. I’m not even going to embed this YouTube clip because it makes me feel dirty. But it is also hilarious, so I can’t really resist. You know you love gay Mormons. We all do.  And here’s a teaser for calendar with 12 months of nothing but them. Don’t watch it at work. Or if you respect yourself.

You should go.

I’ve been worried about this prolonged cutesy phase I’ve been going through — the constant checks of Cute Overload, the twee pop, the pangs to raise multi-ethnic babies.

To cope with this issue and to parody it, I’ve created a new blog that will likely not be sustainable. But here it is.  One week’s worth, at least.

It’s called Oh My God I’m Turning Into Hello Kitty.

After having my New Haven/NYC trip cancelled not once, not twice, but thrice, I ventured out earlier this week for a much-scaled-down version.

I took the train up to New Haven on Sunday. The trip was marked by:

1. a tour of the Yale campus (Matt is about to start a 2-year program to be a physician’s assistant) led by a bubbly rising junior from Waco. She repeatedly mentioned how weird it was that she was going to be a junior, making me feel ancient and decrepit. I wanted to rap her with the cane I use with my gnarled, arthritic hand and tell her how much she has yet to learn about life. But I didn’t.
2. a lamentable experience at a local falafel joint.
3. meeting his sitcom-worthy neighbors — sort of like a higher-brow version of Friends (PhD students in comparative literature/poli sci.
4. watching the movie Breach and squealing whenever I saw a familiar landmark. Which was often.

The trip to New York was divided between Matt Stops and Dan Stops. Seeing as how our Venn diagram of interests overlaps at writing and beer, there aren’t that many places in NYC that we are both interested in going to. For example, one of the places I was excited about going was Uniqlo, which I have heard described (accurately) as the Japanese H&M. It looked like a gay spaceship inside, what with the 40-foot walls stacked with multi-colored, strategically placed sweaters.

On the other hand, a Matt Stop was a gaming store called The Compleat Strategist. Or as I not-so-subtly nicknamed it, The Nerd Store. It eventually got to the point where we both just casually called it “The Nerd Store” in conversation. It made me feel cruel. But I Matt indulged me in my fruity, technicolor fashion excursions, so I sucked it up and let him take his time there browsing the Star Wars miniatures. The store was small, cloistered and smelled like old paper and virginity.

One stop that was an undeniable hit was the Salvation Army in the Village (East, I think, but I have no idea). I bought a Pierre Cardin suit for $17. From the looks of it, it belonged to a man with a similar shoulder breadth and waist line, but was probably four or five inches taller. And, aside from a small, barely noticeable rip by one of the pockets, it was in pristine condition. Matt also bought a brown blazer so now, paired with his plaid shirts, he can have that outdoorsy-scholar-with-a-copy-of-Walden-under-his-arm look. The only complaint I had about the store was its lack of a fitting room, forcing me to try on the pants in an alcove with Matt standing guard. I was less worried about modesty than I was someone looking at me and thinking I was some pantsless, homeless pervert in the corner of the Salvation Army.

One stop that I was sadly unable to make was From Rice to Riches — a suggestion from Belle. It’s a specialty rice pudding store where you can get toppings, etc. Unfortunately, I gorged myself at the Indian buffet and we were both feeling to obese to stop and add rice pudding to our bloated bellies.

I had no time to really see anyone, aside from a few cryptic text messages to unknowing New Yorkers.

Ladybirds are a duo out of Pennsylvania who make bouncy electro-pop. It fits right into this prolonged cutesy phase I’ve been going through lately.

There’s a little bit of boy/girl vocals, but it’s primarily female. At one point they even enlist a children’s choir. Usually I hate it when children sing, but the track in question “Andy Lex” is actually pretty good.

Head over to good old Jared’s site for an mp3 of one of my favorite tracks off the album entitled “Oh No! The Unicorns are Knife Fighting Again!”

1. A bulldog eats watermelon and it is surprisingly watchable.
2. I wrote stuff for TiFaux. Here’s something about My Pet Monster/disappointment/Jezebel James, something about Barefoot Contessa and something about Design Star.
3. One of D.C.’s most colorful residents is Blelvis. He’s black, he’s an Elvis fan: he’s Blelvis. And the Post recently did a big story on him.
4. Putin. Beefcake. Putin. Beefcake.
5. This is what Harry Potter would look like if he were made out of butter.