Indie Cred...

           Oh my goodness, here it is, I'm going to attempt to verbalize my love for Independent Rock Music. Or as it's better known: Indie. Indie is more than just a music, more than a sound. There is definitely a sound that you can Identify as Indie, usually low quality scratchy recording, but that is not the definition. It's more of a spirit, a movement almost, but it's a movement that tries its best to not be a movement. I think that's the first thing that you should all know, Indie is not out to conquer the world. It's not the British Invasion of the 60's, or the Punk movement, or Hip-Hop, all aimed to take things over. Indie is just fine where it's at, selling out concerts and thousands of tickets without most of America even noticing. It's about doing it yourself, not making corporate music, sometimes making bad music, but all in the name of Independence. Artists that wouldn't mind going big (being anti success isn't indie, that's Kurt Cobain) but are only going to do it on their own terms. Take Death Cab For Cutie, they've been accused of selling out, but if I have a problem with them, it's that they sound exactly like they did when they were underground. But every once in awhile even teenage girls accidentally listen to something good and you'll here DeathCab blared out of Jettas with Roxy stickers in the back window all across the nation. It may be sandwiched in between cheap pop like Katy Perry, Beyonce, and Dashboard Confessional (which is fake indie), but it has wormed its way into public consciousness.
         Indie's effect is seen in ways that people don't recognize. You know that big glasses trend that's been in recently, completely Indie a few years ago, you won't see it as much anymore since it's gotten into the mainstream fashion world, but have no doubt, bands like Pavement and Of Montreal have been rocking those bad boys a lot longer than Brad Pitt has. Other places such as iTunes (which has been crucial in the mainstream success of indie) and Hot Topic (they just can't seem to make anyone happy) have picked up on the Aesthetic and made money off of it. Even rappers like Kanye West and Lil Wayne have sampled totally underground tracks in popular songs of theirs. (which have referenced King Crimson and The Shins respectively.)
         I don't know what it is, maybe its my overdeveloped but underexpressed rebellious streak, (I have a secret love of Graffiti and Public Disturbances). Maybe it's my thickly sarcastic and thinly veiled music snobbery that makes me only enjoy music that couldn't be called normal. But when I see cheap christmas lights strung over a bass drum and the lead singer of the band comes on and tells everyone to go home before the show even starts, my blood gets going. When I here some strange dissonant chord ring out from a tinny guitar and an off time beat, it's beautiful to me. Seriously though, it's not a sound, whether it's Built to Spill's triple guitar attack, to the Shins laid back folk-pop, from Dntel's sharp electronica, to Mates of the State's Piano Balladry, the range is diverse but the vision is singular. Indie.

Point? no.

So I just finished an unholy 6 hour Chemistry/Calculus homework binge. It feels good to be done but I am sapped of all creative energy, seriously, i've tried guitar, piano, and now writing, but nothing. So I'm just going to list some of the best indie songs that got me through that homework time today. Here they are, look em up on grooveshark or something.

MGMT - Time to Pretend
Pixies - Where is my Mind?
Phoenix - Lasso
Neutral Milk Hotel - In the Aeroplane Over the Sea
Built to Spill - I Would Hurt a Fly
Dinosaur Jr. - See You

Next time I'm going to do an expose on the virtues of Indie Rock... this should be a good primer.

Follow-Up

Okay so this Morning, I realized, that It's hard to follow up an incredibly unique day. Like, we've all had good days, those are fine, when you realize this hot member of the opposite sex is into you, or you get to eat at Olive Garden, but crazy days are just hard to follow up with.

Let me explain.

Yesterday, I had nothing to do, I stayed in Phoenix a day longer than planned to get to spend some time with a family I had gotten close to when I was a missionary, but that wasn't until nine o'clock that night. My buddy,who I was staying with that day, had to go to work at 7 in the morning. Thus I hopped in my car and started driving, looking for something, anything really, to do.

I spotted a mountain right in the middle of Phoenix. I decided I needed to be on top of that mountain. So I drove around, I figured that here in the 5th largest city in the US that this mountain would have a marked trail and Park Service station to go with it. It turned out later I was correct but I could not find it for the life of me. So I just started driving up hill in this really nice neighborhood. As is usually the case, the higher on the mountain I got, the bigger the houses got. Big stucco homes, Arizona style, complete with palm trees, cacti, and rock lawns. But the last house on the mansion, towering over the rest, was a castle. Seriously, a castle, complete with bridge, huge door, stone masonry, gothic windows, battlements, everything. I parked under its shadow in an empty lot and started walking up the side of the mountain. Soon walking was climbing and I had an amazing view of the entire valley. It was a pretty hard climb, kind of dangerous considering I was by myself, and especially at one point where I had to balance between not falling off the side of the mountain, and not sitting on a cactus, while shimmying sideways on a ledge. But I reached the top, and saw the trail, with about 20 people on it. They were all staring at me, and I just explained, "I'm not from here, I didn't know where to start hiking so I just climbed up over there."

Turns out that's illegal. Oh well. I'm from Idaho, what do I know?

So I went down the proper side of the mountain, and ended up about 10 miles away from my car, with a mountain in between us. I had NO idea where I was, I don't know that part of Phoenix at all, and so I just started walking around. Eventually I ran into two kids spray painting some cinderblock wall in a pretty old neighborhood. It was actually really good, they had their deseigns looking almost shiny and three-dimensional. They didn't seem worried by me so I just walked up and started talking to them about it. I'm a total sucker for street art and graffiti, I think it is so cool, so I was just thrilled to learn from these criminal da-vinci's. They told me to just buy a lot of spraypaint, build some stencils and practice practice practice. They had both taught themselves and were seriously good.

These gentleman have posted some of their work on Flickr. Check it out...
http://www.flickr.com/photos/janettowbin/sets/72157603845269957/with/2238729439/

So after talking with them for awhile I went to where my buddy Brent said he'd pick me up and take me back to my car.  It was on 44th and Camelback, I waited at a Circle K that was on the bottom floor of a convention center. Classiest Circle K ever. It still had a tough looking lady working there and a dirty bathroom, so rest assured, it was still Circle K.

So to make a long story short, when we got back to my car, Brent knew who lived in that Castle I was parked beneath. Alice Cooper. No seriously, it was, he was born in Phoenix, now he has a castle on top of a mountain. That seems to work well for a scary rock star from the 80's.

So now, I'm in Tucson, with two very cool girls, but I just don't think I'll be able to top castles, and grafitti, getting lost, and climbing mountains. But it is sunny, and we do have a pool.

Demetri Martin is a Genius

Okay, so Demetri Martin is my second favorite comedian, (Number 1 being the Late Mitch Hedburg and Number 3 being Jerry Seinfeld and Bill Cosby tied. And they might actually be Number 2)

But turns out he is also a genius. He wrote a 224 word poem that is also a Palindrome. A Palindrome is a word or a phrase that can be read forwards or backwards and it's the same, take racecar for instance. But anyhow, his is 224 words long, I cannot imagine how much time this took but I'm so glad someone took the time to do something so amazing yet so pointless. I got this from Pastemagazine.com, and here it is. (sorry if the light profanity is offensive, but great writing shouldn't be censored)

Dammit I'm Mad by Demetri Martin

Dammit I’m mad.

Evil is a deed as I live.

God, am I reviled? I rise, my bed on a sun, I melt.

To be not one man emanating is sad. I piss.

Alas, it is so late. Who stops to help?

Man, it is hot. I’m in it. I tell.

I am not a devil. I level “Mad Dog”.

Ah, say burning is, as a deified gulp,

In my halo of a mired rum tin.

I erase many men. Oh, to be man, a sin.

Is evil in a clam? In a trap?

No. It is open. On it I was stuck.

Rats peed on hope. Elsewhere dips a web.

Be still if I fill its ebb.

Ew, a spider… eh?

We sleep. Oh no!

Deep, stark cuts saw it in one position.

Part animal, can I live? Sin is a name.

Both, one… my names are in it.

Murder? I’m a fool.

A hymn I plug, deified as a sign in ruby ash,

A Goddam level I lived at.

On mail let it in. I’m it.

Oh, sit in ample hot spots. Oh wet!

A loss it is alas (sip). I’d assign it a name.

Name not one bottle minus an ode by me:

“Sir, I deliver. I’m a dog”

Evil is a deed as I live.

Dammit I’m mad.

Night at Home.

Well, I'm spending the night at home by myself. My ideal night is always doing something, anything, with a good group of friends. Sometimes though that's not available so here I am. Some nights that's a huge problem for me... I start going crazy. But today I am more than happy to just take a shower, get in my pajama's, pop some ibuprofen to finally get rid of the headache that's been following me all day, play some guitar, and stare at the one currently working lamp in the living room of our empty but usually crowded apartment. Another plus of my "me" night, I satisfied my #1 vice after over a month of painful sobriety... McDonald's. It was in celebration of two things, first I got my car keys back, thus McDonalds was in reach at 10 pm. The second reason for celebration is that my first semester is over. Thus the quarter-pounder with cheese in my lap right now and sprite on the coffee table next to my feet. I would like to quote my little brother Jared, one of the smartest people I know, "Anyone who says they don't like McDonald's is lying."

Did I mention my first semester is over? 1 down, 15 to go. At first that was super exciting to think about. Then it was extremely depressing to think, and now It's at once daunting yet fun to think about. I think one of the big reason I want to be a Doctor is just the audacity of it. It's a huge commitment, one that I really hope I can pull off. 8 years of college, plus residency and another year or two depending on what I choose to specialize in. (I think that's oncologist by the way, but I've got awhile yet to think about it.) When I say audacity, I mean that I want to do something that matters with my life. I want something that is hard, something that will stress me out when I get a single B (like beat my head into the wall today about because I didn't get the grade I needed on my science final to get an A). What's life if it isn't a stretch, an adventure, and a little bit crazy? People are always like, well that's a lot of school right? I can't help but think, there are doctor's aren't there?

It's been a learning experience for me this semester. I learned things like how much I love writing. How much I actually do enjoy science even though I don't think it comes as natural to me as classes like English and History do to me. I learned things like girls are always willing to give you a first date to be nice, and said date might even go perfectly... doesn't mean that they're interested. I've learned how much fun though it is to date around and just enjoy the chase for what it's worth, even when you're constantly guessing (and usually wrong!) I learned how much study school is really going to take, because I'm only a Freshman and the classes are only going to get harder. That's why I'm taking the study skills class next semester, hopefully I'll be able to use my time much more efficiently, instead of just staring at the screen in the Library zoning out. I learned how much I really like warm weather. I just might end up living in Arizona someday permanently. Until then I'll satisfy myself with trips every once in awhile. Like the one that starts THIS WEEKEND! Not that I'm excited... I definitely didn't spend all day today thinking about how excited I am. Nope. Didn't do that, that would be silly.

This post was fairly random but it's what's in my brain.

Peace

This I Believe

I wrote this for my English class, and kinda like it. So here it is. Names have been changed.

When I was a freshman in High School, everyone knew Mike Tanner was dangerous. No tyrant or assassin my history teacher had told me about could ever reach his level of dangerous. You see, there was a long standing tradition at Meridian High School called the freshman roundup. A handpicked group of large seniors (Mostly football players) would line up at one end of freshman hall, stand shoulder to shoulder and run through the hallway, obliterating any freshman in their path. Everyone knew it would happen at some point, everyone accepted it, no one got in trouble for it. But Mike Tanner, as a freshman, got caught in it and fought back. As the story goes, he uppercut all-state linebacker Derek Clifford in the jaw, flooring him. When one of the other seniors retaliated, he threw the would-be avenger into a garbage can, kicked it down the stairs and ran like the devil before they ganged up on him. Insolence like that did not go unpunished so three other seniors jumped Mike the next day, as he was walking home by the canal. Two ended up in the ditch with broken noses and the other ran away while Mike just laughed. We couldn’t verify the story independently, but Cody’s brother knew a guy that saw it go down. So it had to be true.  After that year the freshman roundup was outlawed. Mike was more feared than Hitler, John Wilkes Booth, Mike Tyson, and Bruce Lee put together.

Local legends are the ultimate tall tales, no amount of fame and notoriety can make a popular or historical figure greater than the hometown hero or villain. The people on TV and in the books are abstractions, people I accept are real, but don’t truly have any personal connection to me. I can relate to the “firsthand” accounts of my neighbors. How could Mother Teresa even compare to Mrs. Williams, who was always feeding hobos in her living room and gave out king-size candy bars on Halloween? Most in our town had seen pictures of Mother Teresa, but everyone had received a Mrs. Williams smile in person. Who’s Usain Bolt? Just because he won 3 sprinting gold medals at the Olympics doesn’t mean he was faster than Ryan, who everyone knew outran Dan Malcombe in a race, when Dan was driving his dirt bike! More boys in Meridian, Idaho had the hots for Shannon Abernathy than Marilyn Monroe, Audrey Hepburn, or Angelina Jolie could ever hope for. They’re pictures might be nice, but we had seen the way Shannon moved. And of course, no American hero could hold a candle to the legendary Bob, who lost both his arms throwing back an enemy grenade in Vietnam. You can read stories about the others, but you can see Bob carrying his groceries down Linder road with the claws on his Prosthetic arms every Wednesday.

These local legends are born, word of mouth by kids in the schoolyard, in the streets, and next to the gas station drinking Coke. They’re carried on by Moms catching up at play dates, gossiping in the nail salon, and organizing community events. They’re expanded by men talking sports, cars, and work at the auto shop or before Friday night football games. They’re immortalized by old folks, sitting on their porches and eating at JB’s diner, bragging about their grandkids and complaining about everyone else’s kids. It’s these legends that make every small town in America the greatest town in the world if you ask the people who live there. And when I hear the stories, I know that they’re all true, especially when they’re made up. I might know some history, but I believe in legends.

End.

Wilkommen!

My wonderful English teacher Sis. Clemens said something I'll never forget while critiquing the 2nd draft of a paper I was writing, "You've eliminated most of the wretched logical fallacies from your paper Gage, Good Job." I was elated, then insulted as I thought about it. Either way the phrase stuck with me, and in all my subsequent papers in that class I made sure I eliminated all WLF's as I dubbed them in my mind. I'm sure I'll be making more of them as time goes on so feel free to make fun of them as they appear. If I know myself (and I don't) I'll be really sporadic in updating it so just check randomly if you're interested. I hope you like what you read.

End.