Grow Up. Grow Up. Grow Up.

http://fashionindie.com/barely-legal-and-looking-regal/

Amped Up Soul

My latest musical fixation has come in the form of a brand that’s somewhere between R&B/Soul and rock. This fusion (the successful versions of it, at least) usually takes the form of an R&B singer over an insane guitar backdrop.

SOME EXAMPLES -

One 2 Many (London) = love.love.love. background. love.
Only U (Ashanti) = One-hit, guitariffic <- [just coined that term] wonder. Not insulting Ashanti’s career, but this is just so much better than anything else she’s done. The magic starts at 0:24.
KEVIN RUDOLF. Yes, the artist in general. Listen to: In The City, Let It Rock

Of course, my favorite genre-hopper has to be Timbaland. Is there anything he hasn’t attempted to merge?

I’m still trying to decide whether Prom Queen is unbelievably innovative or a three-minute-forty-two-second load of crap.

Being the audiophile that I am, I’ll continue looking for more priceless shit in the form of soulrock. As should you. So, you know, when you find it, you can get your ass on AIM and send it to me.

In The End, It’s About Saving A Life

40 years later, retired Caucasian firefighter William Carroll is reunited with Evangeline Harper, the African-American baby girl he saved from a fire in the midst of a racially divided city. It changed his life, preserved hers, and was something both of them remembered.

When I see media being used to publish stories such as these, it restores my waning faith in the world.

http://www.boston.com/news/local/massachusetts/articles/2009/02/12/40_years_worth_of_thanks/

Why We Should All Swear Like Sailors

“Fuck.” “Shit.” “Ass.” (not to be confused with ‘donkey’) “Bitch.” “Damn.” “Cunt.” etc.

I developed a theory about curses when, after I began very tastefully decorating my sentences with them in middle school, I was admonished by a few friends to stop.

What, really, is wrong with the initial curses? FUCK = A combination of the letters f, u, c, and k, from the english language. Why, due to the f in front of the ‘uck’, is it seen as less appropriate than, say, ‘duck’? (Excuse the bad example; I was inspired by T9Word, considering every time I attempt to text ‘fucking’ it becomes ‘ducking’).

I’ve concluded that these so-called swear words are only seen as inappropriate because of the negative connotations humans associate them with. The initial words are not any more or less appropriate than any other, thus I should really be free to use them whenever the fuck I want.

[Note that there is a counterargument: Though I claim that the negative connotations are created by humans, I also subscribe to them by using these words within that context. As in, I just don't randomly throw around the word 'fuck' (okay, I do, but you're missing the point here); I say 'fuck my life'. So, in essence, I am a hypocrite. But who isn't? And besides, unless you're one of my more philosophical, overachieving friends, you probably couldn't have come up with this on your own anyway. At least not immediately.]

Another Lens To Peer Through

It’s a sign.

After Tyler hung up last night*, I lay there staring at my ceiling, not feeling the slightest bit of fatigue. Irritated at the wasted time, I plugged my cellphone in and hopped out of bed to grab a copy of the New Yorker. Thanks, Ivy.
EDITION: September 22nd, 2008
I’d waded through a couple pieces on the Babar book series, a childhood favorite, and the parallel between an author’s life experiences and his work before landing on an article about Spike Lee. It was twelve pages long, eleven without the title photo.
I was originally planning to skip over it in favor of a lighter read, but I was intrigued by the shot of Spike on the second page. He had on a serious expression that most would find intimidating- I found it endearing. His shirt was black, with white letters proclaiming “OBAMA IS THE NEW BLACK”. His stance was simultaneously very forward and laid back, with one foot propped up displaying an Air Jordan sneaker (there was a reference to this later on in the article).

Some would find his expression intimidating- I found it endearing.

He looked like the type of person I would genuinely want to be friends with.

By the end of the article, I was caught by a sudden desire to direct. This was nothing new- I’d considered the role of director before, an interest rather than an already-developed talent to add to my “jack-of-all-trades”. However, I’d very quickly dismissed it because, well, there were so many other trades and interests in this collection that I’d already honed to better degrees.
Last night, this obstacle struck me as very stupid.

So?

Spike didn’t know he wanted to direct until later on in life, and was most likely talented at quite a few other things, sports included. Look what he became.

—-

The next morning, I dragged myself out of bed, very much looking forward to an uneventful day of rest- the first in perhaps a week. I wound up in my dad’s room, going through his closet and replacing some ties that had somehow slithered off their designated hanger and onto the floor to mingle with the hairballs.
As I was checking his suit jackets for stains, something prompted me to look upward. There were boxes, piled one on top of the other, a couple depicting unopened childhood toys, another… a camcorder? My interest piqued, I grabbed my dad’s chair and promptly hopped on top of it, intending to bring down whatever I found.

Among my discoveries were a doorag (W-T-F?! My uber-asian father…?), a leather baseball cap with which I was very pleased, scarves, a neon pink scarf which I intend to style as a skirt, and not one but TWO camcorders.
Perhaps I’m just overanalyzing as usual. But discovering two camcorders the morning after I read Spike’s article and resolved to look into film?

I slid my hand behind the strap, wrapping my fingers around the camcorder and flicking the switches with my index. It felt good.

*”Last night”; 2/2/09

New Semester…

… less time, at least in the immediate future. I have a pending blog on Spike Lee and the camcorders hiding in my dad’s closet that I never got the chance to finish. AARGH. To top off my new schedule and workload, there’s political trouble brewing in the community, and for once, my dad is having trouble taking care of it. Shiiiite.

Will update as soon as I can.
xx

http://twitter.com/johncmayer

“Choking up while singing means the song is finally good enough.”

HEADS UP: Blog Rejuvenation!

In a series of blogosphere-related ideas, I’ve decided to try a new approach.

As opposed to blogging about whatever random thing comes to mind, I’m going to start a continuous series of certain things, such as:

- Short stories
- Latest mood photography (& Picnik projects)
- Noteworthy profile pictures/defaults
- Poetry
- Life timelines
- Blogs about holidays/events of importance
- Freewrites
- Non-mainstream music that should be mainstream
- Evenings out with el padre

etc.