Rap music is a beautiful thing. It seems to be the only kind of music that one can get away with not being musical at all. It’s the combination of crass, cheap poetry and that one drum beat over and over and over and over.
The best kind of posts are those that just flow, those that write themselves. That’s what was happening to Sixes and Sevens, the original. It was basically about the two graduations I went to. Last weekend was my cousin Dirk’s and the weekend before was my cousin Britt’s. They were both touching graduations. Britt’s had a mass before it to make it interesting, and Dirk’s had a student-made going away video to make it interesting. Both had really good parts and both were long. The post, however, wasn’t interesting at all, and I had written quite a bit. This post won’t take me any time at all to write, and will be three quarters more interesting than the first could ever been.
It’s getting sunny. I’m moving. Oh, much better. I’m sitting in the lawn in front of Beadle Hall on campus here. I took work off today because I value sleep more than money. Plus, I’m going to put in 8h this weekend sometime. That’s not why I’m here, though. I got kicked out of my house. No, not by my housemate or landlord or God or Buddah or my drug habbit. I got kicked out by Megan. See, this week I’ve been sorting through my books a bit. That means that Megan gets to enjoy the squalor that I live in. Inspired by shows on TLC like “While You Were Out” and the Bravo masterpiece “Queer Eye For The Straight Guy”, Megan has decided to make over my room, complete with $40 budget. And, while in WYWO the person has no idea this is going to happen and in QEFTSG the person has some say in what happens, I, instead, get to sit out on the lawn as my tablet battery slowly dies.
Slowly… I have 0:48 hours left. I want to post this before the battery goes, so if it doesn’t have an ending, be forewarned.
I’m a bit scared. I have no idea what she’s been doing up there. I’ve been downstairs all day since she woke me up at 8. I need to start locking the front door at all times. So, I slept on the couch downstairs until 12:45. We ate, went to class, and now I’m here reading online comics to the ants and bunnies gathered on the grass. I mean, getting eaten by ants while bunnies mock me as I try to read online comics. Of course, when my battery dies, I won’t be doing anything. Megan took the book I was reading because it was part of her ‘design’.
I’ve been trying to get all sorts of info out of here. Trying to get her to let something out. “Oh, I forgot about all those papers behind my dresser – did you find them?” I’ll look for them when I go back up there. “You know, my bed would look great against that other wall.” I’ll keep that in mind. “Do you want me to move my DVDs upstairs, since we can watch DVDs on my computer?” If I need them, I’ll get them. “You’re putting a lot of work into this, but you’re forgetting one thing: what the hell is that??” Nice try. Get out.
My musical tastes are varied. I have ALL my songs on my playlist, and random, and I just got David Bowie, Radiohead, StainD, Nas, Wu-Tang, Kenna, Alkaline Trio, Blur, Brand New, Justin Timberlake, the Beatles, Styx, Led Zepplin, Korn, The Dust Brothers, The*Ataris, Wagner, and Jeff Gabhart. This makes me wonder about the music of today. Can any radio station do my tastes justice? Obviously not. In fact, most people have tastes like these. Each artist/song/album fills a certain nichï¿½ for a particular person. This doesn’t mean that radio stations shouldn’t at least try a little bit.
Pop Radio sucks. It even pains me a bit to know that Pop radio was a vehicle that the Beatles and, later, the Wonders/Oneders used to get popular. Now, popular artists don’t have to try to be musical. I like Justin, but most of his music is party music. People write tunes that other people can dance to. It’s no longer about applying the musical ideas and templates from people like Mozart onto modern instruments and lyrics. It’s not longer about discovering how music works and what makes it beautiful. Like everything else in America, music sold out.
If you go to vtext.com the number one ring tone is : All Falls Down by Kayne West. Besides being unable to pronounce his name, I can’t figure out what this guy is about. His hit before this was “Through The Wire”. This was an awful song. Here’s the very overplayed story. Kayne West was a producer. He produces hip-hop/r & b records. Then he was in a “near-fatal” car accident that left his jaw wired shut. As soon as he got better, he released a record capitalizing on his “tragedy”. A quote from this new star: I would just like to stress that Prince produced his own music.
God – I’ll listen to Prince before I listen to you. Right now I’m getting the Led out through the Immigrant Song. Up next? Dashboard, Coldplay, and Bush. Kayne West is through all right.