Luck

I will concede that this blog has hit a bit of a rough patch. Aside from a handful of photos one week and an ill-conceived rant the next, I've hit a bit of a wall. I have attempted to eschew music reviews, as I am keenly aware that no one reads them and I'm trying to avoid movie reviews so I can get it all out of my system at the end of the year when I come up with some sort of hierarchy. In one of my first entries, I confessed that this blog existed more as a means for me to express opinions more articulately than I otherwise may have, and should be read as a journal more than a manifesto. I still feel that way, but I wouldn't be linking the entries if it was an entirely solitary pursuit. What I'm saying is; the blogging will be probably be sporadic, and on my terms. This entry will address luck.

I've stopped reading the Oppenheimer biography 'American Prometheus' because it was excruciatingly slow and dry, and entirely too detailed. For Oppenheimer scholars, it may be fascinating to read the minutes of every meeting he ever attended, but I couldn't take any more. Instead, I moved laterally to 'Although Of Course You End Up Becoming Yourself", a 300-page "conversation" between Rolling Stone writer David Lipsky and the late David Foster Wallace in 1996, just as Wallace was finishing his book tour for Infinite Jest and wrestling with his sudden celebrity. While I have only read 'A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again', 'The Pale King', and only made a small dent in Infinite Jest, I consider myself to be a big DFW fan. I hold his Commencement speech near and dear, and am saddened when I realize his output is finite, and some day I will have no new DFW material to read.

What I have been struck by most in Lipsky's book is the humility that DFW has in the wake of the fervor that Infinite Jest produced, and how he dismisses compliments and finds the accolades "scary", in that they are only raising expectations for his next book to unreachable heights. He was a brilliant man, and one who refused to view art with one iota of pretension, instead using it as a means to tease out fundamental, universal truths. He was not one to roll his eyes at cliche, so long as it was effective and not insulting, unabashedly enjoying old country music due to the very deep material it contained, regardless of the surface subject matter. I won't get into all of his intricacies, but it gave me a profound level of respect for him on a different level than I had before. Maybe it's because I see some of myself in him when he discusses his twenties, and it scares me when I consider how his life ended. One of the most devastating passages involves Wallace explaining how incredibly lucky he is, in spite of everything, to be doing what he enjoys. While not an edgy topic, I considered the same, and decided to quantify how lucky I really am to try and visualize it a bit better. So that's what I did. Below are the odds for each of the following characteristics, provided the above is true (for the most part).

These numbers are courtesy of the most recent US Census (www.census.gov)

Note: I am not saying any of these attributes are better than the alternatives.

US Citizen: 1 in 22
Male: 1 in 2
White: 1 in 1.5
Middle Class: 1 in 2
Non-Divorced Household: 1 in 2
High School Graduate: 1 in 1.2
Bachelor's Degree: 1 in 2.5
Master's Degree (knock on wood): 1 in 4
No Debt: 1 in 4
Full Time Job: 1 in 1 (Low unemployment rate for MS graduates)
Less than 20 minutes commute to work: 1 in 3
Healthy: 1 in 3 (guess factoring in obesity and all other fatal/chronic diseases)
Good Looking: 1 in 3
Full Head of Hair: 1 in 2
Winning Smile: 1 in 4
Well Read: 1 in 5
Charming: 1 in 3

Total: 1 in 41 million (in all seriousness, more like one in 115,000 if you ignore the frivolous things at the end)

Puts things in perspective a bit, doesn't it? And who knows how far off some of those estimations were.

Fall

Legacy

The term "Legacy" is one that carries both gravity and pretension. It's something I've been chewing on a lot lately after reading Walter Isaacson's Steve Jobs biography and tackling a Richard Feynman collection after. Now in the throes of the J. Robert Oppenheimer bio American Prometheus, the concept of legacy and what it means has become quite fascinating. Steve Jobs created revolutionary products that delivered intuitive computers for normal consumers, but was a notorious asshole who routinely berated his coworkers, swindled his friends and was often too busy/callous to spend quality time with his family. Steve Jobs often fretted about his legacy, but at the end of the day he chose to be worshiped by millions of strangers than revered in his own family.

Feynman was a different character entirely. He possessed the same ferocious curiosity of Jobs, but his curiosity was not limited to a specific discipline like computing or design. He embraced everything with the zeal that few of us can muster for even our most interesting pursuits. He planned a trip to Brazil, so he taught himself Portuguese and became immersed in the culture, picking up the drums in his spare time and soon mastering them. When he worked at Los Alamos on the Manhattan Project, he taught himself lock-picking and spent hours mastering the craft and learning new tricks. He was a kind and gentle and nurturing influence on his students at Cal-Tech and was equally patient and beloved by the scientific community at large. He became interested in hallucinations but was reticent to indulge in drugs, so he spent many hours in sensory deprivation chambers to satisfy these questions. He made landmark Biology observations and even became popular enough as an artist to warrant an exhibit under his pseudonym "Ofey". He had two children from a long marriage to his third wife (his first died of TB and second divorced him), and proved that genius need not be a ticket to a solitary life.

For the rest of us, does the word "legacy" even apply? Does it even matter? Some could effectively argue that concerning yourself over how you will be remembered is a pointless pursuit, and I would not disagree. But the fact of the matter is that life is an end sum game, and having a nice legacy is a validation of a life well-lived, even if your memory dissolves quickly. What's interesting is how these legacies can change over time, and how your life can be distilled into a sterile paragraph that scrubs away any complexity or dimension. Watching Boardwalk Empire, I was struck by a portrayal of a KKK member as a family man. When you have the KKK on your resume, it doesn't matter that you were a doting husband or a wonderful father or that "things were different back then", your legacy is sealed. Perhaps those who are fighting tooth and nail to defend marriage from a "liberal assault" will enjoy a similar fate in twenty years and they try to explain themselves to their grandchildren who simply dismiss them as an old bigot.

There is so much unhappiness in the world today, that most people can only cope with it by channeling it into frustration and impatience that only serves to propagate the problem. It is exceedingly difficult, but we would all be better served if we understood that everyone is struggling in some way, and that their actions are their response to this. This sentiment is better expressed in David Foster Wallace's commencement speech, but it's something I try to come back to when I am close to boiling. Perhaps legacy is an inappropriate motivator to get someone to treat others with respect, but if it gives you a moments pause before you beep your horn or spout profanity, maybe it's not such a bad thing.

Hip Hop Onomatopeias

I'm not sure when rappers decided seeing their name in the credits wasn't satisfying anymore, but my best guess is sometime around 2009, or when the king of hip-hop onomatopeias himself, Gucci Mane arrived on the scene. His music was equally playful and bizarre, with a healthy dose of danger for good measure, but what kept his music fun were his hilarious sound effects that ended every verse and filled every gap in the beat. Never one for discretion, Gucci had no less than THREE sounds that he dispensed with ruthless precision. There was the declarative "BRR!" that announced his presence, in case the listener was unaware, the affirmative "S'gucci!" (an assumed contraction of "It's Gucci!") to confirm what you had already suspected, and finally, the concilliatory "Aye", a goofy shoulder-shrug to explain away everything that preceded it. These days, EVERYONE has a trademark sound effect that they sprinkle on everything they touch, a little rap fairy dust to make the song a hit. These effects range from endearing to obnoxious, but trust me, they are all completely unnecessary. For your reading pleasure, I've organized them into categories so you can identify these artists by their alter egos.
 
CLASSIC
Shaggy
Sounds: "Huh" "Yeah" Assorted near-grunts
Example: Mr. Lover

I guess if we're splitting hairs, Shaggy might be the first one to do this with these sounds you can only make by clenching your buttcheeks (try it, you'll see) but he is neither relevant nor a rapper so I'm not about to give him credit for anything.

Jay-Z
Sounds: Heavy breathing, strange gasps, generic "Ungh"
Example: Otis

Jay-Z has been around long enough to know when something is a passing fad (hello Autotune) or worthy of his attention, but even HOVA himself can't help but get in on the sound effect action. Jay-Z's delivery has always been breathless, like he just ran 12 blocks to deliver this verse, but in recent years he's sounded even more out of breath, and he's developed a strange "GASP!" that he drops randomly like he just woke up from a bad dream. Of course he still has his tried and true "ungh" to fall back in a pinch.

Lil Wayne
Sounds: Lighter spark, random laughter
Example: Entire "Sorry 4 The Wait" mixtape

Lil Wayne is deranged. In the best possible way. He has the most fun of any rapper, from skateboarding until 4AM after shows or spending absurd amount of money on a diamond encrusted grill to showcase his winning smile. It only makes sense that his sound effect share his sense of humor. Nearly every song he releases opens with the spark of a light and Mr. Carter taking a deep breath of "something", followed by a few unintelligible mumbles and his first verse. Inside the verses themselves, Wayne giggles and chuckles yet somehow manages to stay on the beat, and once his verses are complete, he unleashes a maniacal laugh of a mental patient. It would be troubling if it weren't so fun.

INTIMIDATING

Kanye West
Sound: "Eh?"
Example: Who Gon Stop Me?

Since Kanye emerged from the Taylor Swift controversy, he has had a swagger that is unmatched in hip-hop, which is saying something. He has always had an edge to him, but on Watch the Throne, he ends almost every verse with an "Eh?", sounding a lot like the meow of a confused cat, but also like something Maximus would say.

Rick Ross
Sound: The bark of an obese dog
Example: John

Rick Ross is a big guy, I don't think anyone will argue that, but he doesn't need to make it THAT easy. His trademark is a bark. The deep, hearty woof of a morbidly obese dog waiting for his dinner. Perhaps this is an apt sound for Ross, since he just spent a music video in a wheelchair and had two strokes on a flight, but to my ears it is a cry for help. That doesn't mean I'm not terrified of him.

ANNOYING


Pusha T
Sound: "Yeccghh"
Example: Any song from the past two years

Pusha T is half of Clipse. Maybe that doesn't mean anything to you, but it does to me. It mostly means he doesn't need to prove anything to anyone. Especially with something as annoying as his sound effect of choice, an obnoxious "YECCGHH" that is distracting. No one wants to visualize someone retching over a toilet in the middle of a song. He's been hanging out with Kanye lately, so maybe he put him up to it, but he needs to stay strong and stick to rapping.

Jadakiss
Sound: "He-heh!"
Example: It's Good

I had a hard time spelling out Jadakiss' phrase, not because I couldn't remember it but because it is so obnoxious I can't bring myself to listen to it and figure out exactly how to spell it phonetically. Imagine if the Wicked Witch of the West sucked on a helium balloon and then was tickled. That's pretty much what you can expect. I've never been a fan of Jadakiss, and his recent output has not endeared him any further, with his  raspy cackle and moronic verses. Rappers don't retire (See Jay-Z), but Jadakiss should make an exception and hang it up.

Halloween

On Repeat: Youth Lagoon - Seventeen

Youth Lagoon is the moniker for 17 year-old Trevor Powers of Boise, Idaho. Nearly a year ago, I compiled a list of the best Indie artists from every state. At the time, Idaho was the dominion of the fantastic Built to Spill, but after listening to Youth Lagoon non-stop for the past month, the winds of change have come. For all the flack that Pitchfork gets for being pretentious tastemakers, without their rousing endorsement, Youth Lagoon would have likely remained in Idaho obscurity. Instead, they are on a US tour and getting the recognition they deserve in the wake of one of the strongest debut albums in recent memory.

Trevor Powers sings with a gorgeous, broken falsetto, registering barely above a whisper but somehow drawing strength from this fragility. At seventeen years old, most kids have little on their radar beyond college applications and the opposite sex, yet Trevor possesses a maturity and wisdom that is enviable to anyone. The song "Seventeen" is the best example of this powerful resonance, opening with an innocuous memories of swimming and hunting snakes, yet despairing the "nothing" that surrounds him. Before you have time to roll your eyes at this sentiment, he unleashes another epiphanic memory that brings chills and a lump in the throat, "When I was seventeen, my mother said to me, "Don't stop imagining, the day that you do is the day that you die."" After that line knocks you on your ass, the rest of the song is irrelevant as you've already decided you're going to listen to it again. Say what you will about teenagers these days, but perhaps they're a bit smarter than they let on.

Raleigh

List: Halloween Candy

Halloween is fast-approaching. Most of you are focusing most of your energy on finding a funny, topical, and of course whorish costume to masquerade about in this year, but I'd like to take a moment to implore you to not skimp on Halloween candy, especially if you'd like your domicile to remain TP free. To aid in this process and keep you up on the coolest candy kids are eating this year (that sounds creepy), I've compiled this handy list of acceptable and unacceptable Halloween candy for 2011. You have been warned.

ACCEPTABLE:

Reese's Peanut Butter Shapes: Every Holiday Reese's trots out a festive-shaped peanut butter cup. Bad News: they aren't fooling anyone. Good News: they are still peanut-butter cups. Although they seem to have a smaller chocolate to peanut butter ratio than normal cups (unlike the minis, whose C/PB ratio is too high), making them more susceptible to quick melting and dryness. I have suspicions that Reese's has been fiddling with the packaging/size of the cups, but until I have more conclusive evidence, I will give them a pass.

UNACCEPTABLE:

Marshmallow Circus Peanuts: I have a feeling that the same piece of work who came up with Peeps also came up with these turds, after a bad LSD trip or some Opiate-induced hallucination. Surely there was a time and a place in history where this terrible candy elicited cheers from children (the Great Depression?), but today it is a sign of disrespect.

ACCEPTABLE:

Entire Candy Bars: Listen up. Someone on your street needs to bite the bullet and be the one to give out whole candy bars. Why don't you buy yourself some goodwill with your neighbors and take it upon yourself? Consider it an investment. Who knows, maybe they have a snowblower and will be able to pay back the favor in January.

UNACCEPTABLE:

Peanut Butter Taffy, Mary Jane, Bit-O-Honey: I grouped all of these old-timey candies together, because they are equally shitty, and deserve each other. Even if they tasted good (they don't), it wouldn't matter since at least 80% of them have undergone some sort of mitosis and oozed out of their wrapper in transit. Unacceptable. If I can see the candy, I assume it has been tampered with, and I give it to my sister.

ACCEPTABLE:

Sour Patch Kids/Skittles/Swedish Fish: Non-chocolate candies are perfectly acceptable Halloween candies. They are ideal palate cleansers between the aforementioned chocolate cavalcade and what they lack in decadence, they make up for by being delightfully sour. Also, some morons even PREFER these candies, which make them fantastic bargaining chips for MORE CHOCOLATE.

UNACCEPTABLE:

Anything with Coconut: Throw me to the wolves if you want, but Coconut is a terrible food in any circumstances and is a crime in a candy. Who likes to chew on wax-covered grass that tastes like suntan lotion? People who claim to like coconut do so because they think it makes them seem exotic. If I were trapped on a deserted island, I would eat my hand before I cracked open a coconut.

ACCEPTABLE:

Lindt Truffles: Never in my life have I seen a house give out Lindt candies on Halloween, but they certainly should. One could argue that it is a waste of money buying such fancy candy on little gremlins who will eat it to fast to appreciate it, but I disagree. If I had received a Lindt truffle on Halloween, I surely would have approached it apprehensively (since it is wrapped eerily like the peanut-butter taffy), but once I popped it in my mouth and cracked the outer shell, I am convinced it would have blown my mind in such a way that it would have changed my entire life's trajectory. Do it for the children.


UNACCEPTABLE:

Black Licorice anything: When you give a child licorice, you are giving it to their parents. No one under 40 eats this candy. Perhaps something happens to one's sense of taste when they enter middle age, I don't know. They are the diversion candy you throw to your parents when they ask "How'd you do?" so they don't start snooping around and take something good.

ACCEPTABLE:

Payday: Payday are an amazing candy. I don't even care if its a mini one, they are the perfect blend of salty and sweet. Salty peanuts, satisfying caramel. Miles better than anything with 'nougat', which must be German for 'sawdust'.  Why no one else seems to appreciate them, I will never comprehend.

 UNACCEPTABLE

Smarties/Tootsie Rolls/Dum Dum Pops/Anything else that comes in a bag with them: Grandmothers keep these candy companies in business. Some misplaced nostalgia keeps them coming back to the "FUN PACK" of assorted candies, which sounds good on paper, but in reality is a collection of misfit candies with zero redeeming qualities. These candies should only be sold to banks and only from November-September.  


DON'T BOTHER

Little goodie-bags: Anyone with the time/energy to make 100 goodie bags for strange children is one of two things: a psychopath under house arrest, or a nutritious nutcase looking for a clever way to disguise their crappy candy. When I was little, there was a nice old couple who lived up the street from us who ALWAYS made PERSONALIZED bags for every kid in the neighborhood (small town), and before my friends and I went to the good houses, my parents made me stop by. Every year I thanked them graciously, and then proceeded to groan at the apple sauce, granola bars, and foil-covered nickels they had packed for me. Not a good way to start out the night. Keep your nutrition out of my Halloween, I want candy.