Seriously. Watch this:

and tell me it doesn’t sound like the product of a pitch session like this:

Randomness: it’s what’s for dinosaur.

FUN FUN FUN FUN

Oh, sorry. Didn’t see you there. I just was singing the chorus to everyone’s new favorite song for the next 5 minutes, Rebecca Black’s deconstruction of the “party song” genre, “Friday.” I normally wouldn’t link to something that’s going to be over so soon here (if indeed it isn’t already “over”), but when one is so overcome by the power and beauty of art, one must speak. And besides, it is Frah-ee-day.

Black has encapsulated the major existential dilemma of humanity here. Who hasn’t crumbled in indecision, Hamlet-like, over the choice between what seat of the automobile in which they should “kick it”? Not one to rest on her laurels philosophizing, though, she kindly plays teacher, giving us a remedial lesson in the days of the week, and their relationship to each other. This is one for the ages.

It may sound a little chipper to some of you. If that’s the case, I present to you the somewhat slowed-down version, which takes the perkiness of the original and pitches it down to a positively morose E-flat dirge. I really think it works better this way. Musically, it almost sounds like what would happen if The Cure fell out of love on the titular day.

Also, demons rapping and shouting “YEAH!”

In the immortal words of John Cleese, I apologize unreservedly.

Image by mattedesign via Flickr

(Reposted from my music site)

There’s a Far Side cartoon I love – a group of cowboys are sitting around a campfire, one of whom has an entire baby grand piano sticking out of his back pocket. The caption reads something like “Hey, Gus, why don’t you pull that thing out and play us a couple of tunes?” I always flash back to that image when playing at open mics and other venues where acoustic guitarists are plentiful. I’m often jealous of buskers who are able to simply set up on a streetcorner, open a case, and start filling the air with sound. They make me wonder what it would be like to not need an amp, a stand, or electricity to make music anywhere.

Colin Huggins does not need to wonder about such things.

He’s a classicaly-trained pianist who calls himself “the crazy piano guy.” He lugs one of four different pianos into the streets and subways of New York City to play for passers-by on a regular basis. I just found out about him from a brief mention on a podcast I was listening to on my commute. I have never met the man (or even heard his music yet), but he’s already my new idol.

I am a fan of audacity. No, not the open-source audio recording software (although that’s pretty cool, too – even if I am having trouble using it with my newest home studio equipment, but I digress…), but the seemingly crazy stunt that shows the world how you’re living life to its fullest. What the Vlogbrothers might refer to as “decreasing worldsuck,” or just being awesome. What Colin Huggins does definitely fits there, in my opinion.

I have referred to some things I’ve done as being “crazy,” but it occurs to me that I’ve experienced only the tip of the iceberg of audacity.

How have you embraced your crazy lately?

Somehow, while life has been happening and I’ve been not writing here, this blog turned 8.

They grow up so fast, especially when you’ve been neglecting them for the past year.

Photo courtesy Dana&Ron @ Flickr

One more Maine note: WCYI (93.9 Lewiston), still for sale by the Citadel-spinoff Last Bastion Station Trust, has dropped its simulcast of WCLZ (98.9 Brunswick), as that station heads for Saga ownership. WCYI’s now running an automated all-blues format while Last Bastion seeks a buyer. And the “Greetings from Area Code 207″ local-music show that was heard on WCLZ under Citadel ownership is staying with the company; it’s moved to WBLM (102.9 Portland).

I actually heard this “automated all-blues format” on 93.9 the other night on the way back from work. There were no DJ’s no voice tracking, hardly any station promos aside from announcing the frequency and call letters at the top of the hour. It was like listening to a blues fan’s iPod on shuffle or something. It’s a shame it most likely won’t stay that way, because it’s really cool to hear something different on the radio.

Between that, the full moon clearly visible in the pre-sunset sky, and my impending change of job/career/industry, the carpool home Wednesday night felt like something altogether new, alien, and exciting.

Oh, and…RED SOX FTW! ‘Nuff said.

So for all of you who read my whining about my current job (back at the old blog) – thank you. Your prayers, happy thoughts, and especially your Positive Rastaman Vibrations seem to have worked.

The Phantom of Krankor salutes you.

(Oh, and yes, I’ve changed the site template again.)

In a bizarre turn of events, my wife and I have become avid Red Sox followers, since around game 3 or 4 of the ALCS. We spent our Wednesday “date night” last night watching game 1 of the World Series.

Who are we, and what have we done with us?

Irony of the night: We had been hanging out at The Old Goat, Richmond’s local Irish-esque pub, and crowds were beginning to file in to watch game 1 of the series. They weren’t able to tune in the beginning of the game with their DirecTV set up. Instead, a white screen took the place of FOX, announcing “We’re aware that this station is temporarily unavailable. We’ll get it working soon – no need to call!” I don’t know if they ever got it working – the pub owner had decided to listen to the game on the radio before we left.

After finishing our drinks, we went home and tuned it in without a problem via our amplified rabbit ears, chuckling whenever they showed a replay via the “DirecTV Diamond Cam.” Good times.