Disconnected

I have to say that with my laptop still out-of-service, and having been almost completely severed from the web most evenings and for much of the weekends, I have survived better than expected. So far, I have experienced no sleep disturbance, delirium, shakes, hallucinations, convulsions, panic or anxiety, nausea, fever, or tachycardia. Thank god.

Of course, the Olympics were on, and I am a big fan of that event, so I will have to see what happens now that we are back to our regularly-scheduled programming of crap, crap, and more crap.

Speaking of the Olympics, I have a difficult time believing that those tiny Chinese gymnasts are all of age for Olympic competition. Some of them look like they are ten years old and there seems to be lots of evidence that at least one is only 14. When I first saw a video of them clustered around each other, I thought that they looked like a litter of kittens. Someone observed that one of the gymnasts was missing a baby tooth, although I am not sure I believe that.

Younger gymnasts have the advantage of greater flexibility and agility and are less prone to injury, so I have read. Children are also improbably strong. My three year old can do a sort of Iron Cross with little effort.

China faked part of the opening ceremonies and has been guilty in the past of using underage athletes, so I think that this ought to be fully investigated. As expected, previously-available documents have suddenly been removed from the web. I guess this means that my blog will now be blocked in China, if it wasn't already. How to I find that out?

Dancing Librarians

I chose a slightly blurry photo so as to keep identities secret. It seems like there is some sort of circular bunny hop happening.

I have more, but my laptop, despite a new battery ($157), is not healthy. It won't charge or maintain a charge when powered up, and the battery drains twice as fast as it should, even when plugged in. When shut off, it sort of charges, but the battery light goes out or flickers. Damn computers.

Olympics

Four things.

1) Michael Smith - I've been listening to former decathlete Michael Smith's Olympic track and field commentaries on the CBC. Generally, I think he is a good commentator and clearly knowledgeable about the athletes and the events. But, man oh man, this dude needs a dictionary. He has a penchant for making up words and improperly using others. He made up a doozie the other day, and I wish I could remember what it was. During the women's pole vault competition, he said that the bar had hung there "precociously for a moment." I have to think he meant to say precariously.

2) Usain Bolt - He is amazing, but I have to confess that his 100 metre victory left me a little disappointed. I really wish he had finished the race, rather than just jogging across the finish line. I wanted to see what he could really do. The 200 metre final was much better, since he finished the race properly.

3) Shattered - When a world record is broken by a mere 100th of a second or two 100th of a second, it has not been shattered, despite what commentators might say. One hundredth of a second is inconsequential. It may be a new world record, and it may be cool to see, but shattered, it is not. Broken, it is.

4) Michael Phelps - It's all been said, but I am glad not to have to follow his diet.

J'ai tombé

Walking along Rue Saint-Jean with C, we watched a man tumble to the ground while intimately entangled with his bicycle. As we approached, he said, quite calmly, "J'ai tombé." I half expected him to add "and I can't get up," but he didn't. Naturally, I was shocked at his grammar. He ought to have said "Je suis tombé." Avoir is the wrong auxiliary with this intransitive verb.

Similar errors occur in English. My father, for example, will utter such grammatical abominations as "I done steaks last night," in reference to his bar-b-queuing prowess, or "I haven't ate anything today." My sister, similarly grammatically-challenged, often says things like "I seen mom yesterday" and "I should have went to the store."

Naturally, I am familiar with Stuff White People Like, and have no problems admitting that I am guilty of point 99. But, as it turns out, the use of the incorrect auxiliary verb can be found in the Québécoise dialect. Evidently, the lower the socioeconomic status, the greater the likelihood that être will be abandoned in the passé composé of certain verbs of motion. I suppose this man's early evening drunkenness might indicate a certain socioeconomic status, but that is no guarantee.

We helped this man, clearly quite inebriated, to his feet with the assistance of another gent, who inquired after his health. The fallen man, now temporarily on his feet and looking rather wobbly, said "an accident is an accident", but I cannot remember if he said that in English or in French. We continued on our way, leaving the man of unknown socioeconomic status to attempt to cycle while plastered to the gills, as my dad would say.

Around the corner on Rue Cartier, a car ran a red light. A split second later, the police cruiser behind him at the traffic lights flipped on his siren and sped round the corner on the wet pavement, straight into a mature maple tree. I didn't realize that a police car impacting a Québec tree could be so loud. The violator got away clean and the police officer called in for assistance. I wanted to take a photo of his wrecked car, but thought better of it. It was quite impressive, really. One wheel was completely off the car and there were bits of tree everywhere. I was happy not to have been walking too close to that zone.

The third accident was mine: Earlier, I spilled red wine all over my Programme de Poche and my name tag. Of the three accidents that day, this was the most grievous. Wasting wine is a sin.

I know, you are still waiting for photos of dancing librarians, but I still cannot use my laptop. You will just have to wait a while longer.

Smart Casual

On my way to the IFLA World Library and Information Congress in Québec, I noticed that the dress code for the Cocktail Reception and Fun Night was listed as "Smart Casual". Oh, the horror, the horror. There are just too many things wrong with that. For one, the word 'smart' reminds me of the superlatives my mother would use when describing the ugly sweaters my aunt liked to give me every year at Christmas. "That's a smart sweater," she would say. I quickly learned that smart equaled ugly. These sweaters languished in my closet for years, unworn.

But, if you are ancient, then 'smart' somehow becomes a good thing and the old people in our society start using the word 'smart' in conjunction with 'outfit'. No boy or man would ever want to be seen in anything resembling an outfit. Informing a man that he is wearing an outfit is emasculating. Add the word 'smart' to 'outfit' and you might as well kill him where he stands. It means that his life is over. He has failed.

Once you are a senior, you are permitted, for some bizarre reason, to wear outfits. You know: velour tracks suits or matching polyester jacket and pants and shoes with those velcro fasteners. I guess if you have to bend over for more than a few seconds to tie your shoes, you risk death at certain ages. My dad also started to wear ill-fitting baseball hats even though he doesn't watch baseball and went his entire life without a baseball hat.

So, I hauled a black vintage suit jacket with me and donned that for the night of fun. I did not look smart, but I think I passed for casual.

Back from Quebec with Damaged Lungs

(The bad news is that my laptop is in need of some repair, and this is hampering my web access. I hope to have this fixed soon).

While in Quebec, I almost made the decision to become a smoker. Why not? I asked myself. Everywhere I went, I was forced to inhale someone else's second-hand smoke: while walking down the street, while sitting on benches, while eating on patios, even in stores because people smoked in doorways and the smoke wafted in like a grey plague. Before I left for Quebec, I was becoming more and more irritated with smoke in Toronto, but Toronto has nothing on the cigarette madness in Quebec city. The whole place is cancerous.

My other observation is that the food was not as good as I had remembered from my previous visits. I can cook steak way better than any of the steaks I had there. Even the filet mignon, ordered from a gluten-free menu at a resto on rue du Petit-Champlain in Quartier Petit Champlain, sucked. I did have a couple of nice glasses of wine and a really great sangria, thankfully.

But, by far the most bizarre sight was a pod of dancing librarians. In my entire career in this female-dominated profession, I had never seen librarians eager to hit the dance floor. But, at this World Congress, filled with delegates from Africa, Iran, Iraq, China, Russia, all parts of Europe, Oceania, and dozens of other nations, this was happening. I have photos to prove it, and if my laptop ever recovers, I might even share some with you. Whether or not I tripped the light fantastic (or fandango) will forever remain a secret.

Je suis à Québec

Hey, there is free wireless here, even during the conference sessions. This could be very dangerous.

The train trip was fine, and went fast, partly because I was travelling with three colleagues, one of whom brought about three pounds of red radishes as a snack. I am not sure about you, but radishes are way down my list of good train snacks. I won't bore you with a list of the pounds of food I carted along with me, but I remember looking at those radishes as I bit into a nice hunk of dark chocolate and felt sorry for her husband, who vocally pondered the necessity of taking red radishes on a train. Poor man.

We interrupt this vacation to bring you a special presentation of:
Spadina Spadina Station

If you have travelled on the Toronto Subway system, you will no doubt have heard the station announcements, such as:

"The next station is Spadina, Spadina station." Soon thereafter you will hear:

"Now arriving at Spadina, Spadina station." (or, occasionally "Now arrivin' at...).

I just clued in that my son (age 3 and a bit) has assumed that the names of the stations were 'Spadina Spadina Station' and 'College College Station'. We have conversations like:

Him: Is this our stop Daddy?
Me: What station is this?
Him: Osgoode Osgoode Station.
Me: No, it's not our stop yet. We are getting off at St. George.
Him: St. George St. George station?
Me: Yes, St. George St. George station.

I find this particularly hilarious. Je vais à Québec. À plus tard.

Hiatus

Dudes, I will be ignoring my blog for the next two weeks, unless I suddenly get the urge to post a recipe for tripe fritters or stuffed liver. There is a possibility that I will hop on a wireless network in Quebec City, but don't hold your breath.

I hope that the remainder of your summer is grand. À bientôt.

Holy Crap

I just surfed past the opening disaster on tonight's Canadian Idol and watched eight youngish people absolutely massacre The Who's My Generation. If I were The Who, I would sue, for a lot of money.

Not being at work is impeding my blogging, but I am sure it will get back to normal later this summer.

Right now, I am sitting on my back deck with my computer and camera, watching a squirrel attack the grape vines and listening to the neighbour's air conditioner. It has run continuously since Lord knows when, and for no good reason. There is a nice breeze today, and I am more than comfortable. Oh, I am taking some time off, which I think I mentioned. I am just about to launch Photoshop and create a few masterpieces. Sadly, I didn't have the proper lens on my camera as I cycled past a groundhog today. He was a cute beast and rather chubby. I was within a few feet when he got scared and went back down his hole.

update: ...but, a neighbour just came out to smoke, and the wind is coming this way, which sucks. I have smokers on both side and I just wish they all f@&% off and stop smoking!

If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?

Off

Well, I am taking some time off work, culminating in a trip to Quebec City for a conference. I will have some time to have a look around the city. I have been there twice before, but it has been ages and I am looking forward to a return visit.

Last week, I had my right eye lasered, picked up my new glasses, had a dental appointment, went back to the optician to check if the prescription was right, went to my optometrist for some in-depth follow-up tests, and then headed back to the optician with a new prescription. I had been "over-prescribed" and am suffering from eyestrain and muscle fatigue. I really hope that the new prescription is correct.

And now, I must go to bed for I am very very tired.

Unmasked

This is me, drawn my my daughter. I think she has a future as a police sketch artist.

I am going back to the Optometrist today to have my eyes re-examined. I am sure that the prescription is wrong. Amazingly, the place that made my glasses will redo the len(e)s at no charge, even though they did nothing wrong. I just walk in with a new prescription, and they do it again. This is weird, but cool.

I can't believe it is raining again. Merde, il pleut!

Overrated, part 10 of 10

(see: parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9)

Finally, we are at #1. First, Steven Page. I am not a fan of BNL (they don't make this list, but I am not that interested in their music, tho I once was). I guess that kills my plans to be a rock star. If such a straight-laced and nice guy can fall for the temptations of cocaine, what hope is there for me? I would be doomed. I have met Steven. In fact, I once had a chat when they were busking on the streets. I sat at the next table at the CASBY Awards one year. He seems like a genuine guy, which makes this all the more sad. Anyway, onto something sinister...

1) Tori Amos - Apologies to the Toriphiles out there for what I am about to write. I loved the first Tori Amos song I ever heard, because I thought it was a joke. I even laughed. I thought she was some sort of satirical act, a female Weird Al Yankovic. Oh yes, there was that breathy self-important voice, a kind of small Kate Bush singing Nirvana's Smell Like Teen Spirit with so much faux emotional intensity. Who wouldn't laugh at that? It was a classic case of recasting a song in an opposing style. Strip out the furious guitar riff, the plaintive voice, and make it all soft and warm - I mean weak and pathetic.

And then, I found out that she was serious. I'd been had. The song had been chased up the charts because some listeners, like me, liked her funny one-hit Nirvana rip off. Later, she destroyed a perfectly good Cure Song. Take the time to go to that link and tell me honestly if you think that it is good music. It's a textbook case of a complete annihilation of a good song. Death by Tori. It is waffling, airy garbage. I am embarrassed for her for releasing such a pile of junk. But, the fans adore it. They love her messages delivered in pseudo-whispers, but I find all of her songs to be emotionally vacant and corny.

On close listen, what one discovers is that she cannot sing, not even close. She covers up her limited vocal range with bizarre and quirky vocalizations that sound halting and dumb. And then there's the breathing. I can't think of another singer whose breathing interferes so much with the lyrics. She hasn't the power of someone like Kate Bush. Earlier, I said she was "a kind of small Kate Bush." Kim Hughes might have said it better when she referred to Tori as a "poor man's Kate Bush." I find nothing original in her music, just a weak attempt at imitation.

Some fans are turning on her too. I think this is a reflection of her decision to self-produce, which either means that one has completely lost perspective or one is a musical genius. The latter is certainly not true in her case. Judging by her lyrics, I'd wager it's a loss of perspective. Here a rather bizarre piece of writing from Ms. Amos:

Father, I killed my monkey
I let it out to
Taste the sweet of spring
Wonder if I will wander out
Test my tether to
See if I'm still free
From you

I rest my case.



...but, if you want a good laugh at the pre-Tori Tori, and by that I mean Y Kant Tori Read, try this. If you have a thing for women who can play the piano with one of their legs resting on the keyboard, this is for you. Yes, yes, if you want to leave abusive comments, please go ahead.

I am off to the dentist and then to the optician to figure out why my new glasses don't work properly. The right eye is blurry :-(

Overrated, part 9 of 10

(see: parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and 8)

I was thinking about alternate careers lately, and I realize that it is probably too late to really switch careers, but if I could, I would choose astronomy or psychiatry.

Yesterday morning, the doctor lasered the retinal tear in my left eye. I wouldn't have described the procedure on the right eye as painful, but the left was a different story. Evidently, the tear was very close to a nerve and, man oh man, did that hurt. It felt like someone was repeatedly sticking a red hot poker into my eye and it continued to hurt for the rest of the day. The only other thing that painful, is listening to Queen, my number 2 overrated act.

2) Queen - Brian May is probably a good guitarist, but I am more impressed with his academics. Did you know that he recently finished his Ph.D. in astronomy? His dissertation is entitled: A Survey of Radial Velocities in the Zodiacal Dust Cloud. He has also published a couple of articles and co-authored a book entitled "Bang! – The Complete History of the Universe." That's cool, right? But, how weird is it that he would end up in a band with someone called Freddie Mercury? What are the chances of that happening?

It should be no surprise to see Queen on this list. After all, I chose Bohemian Rhapsody as the worst song ever to the dismay of at least one person. I find is especially bizarre that many Queen fans take this song seriously, as I have already discussed. I violently hate Queen's fake operatic crap. Let's have a closer look at some Queen songs.

Another One Bites the Dust - disco crap.

Flash - This has to be an ironic song. It's very gay, not that there's anything wrong with that. The song just makes me have gay thoughts - you know, Buck Rogers in tights and all that. "Flash a-ah Saviour of the Universe!"

Under Pressure - How disappointing that Bowie brought back this piece of garbage to his concerts. I had to suffer through it the last time I saw him. Bowie even managed to find a woman with Freddie's voice to do the Freddie's parts.

Somebody to Love - More fake opera. "Got no feel, I got no rhythm" I imagine this song being featured in a ballet of lepers.

Bicycle Race - Just go ride your bike, and don't sing about it!

Fat Bottomed Girls - Why does anyone like this one? Please tell me. I need to know.

Crazy Little Thing Called Love - This has to be the greatest rockabilly failure ever. "I gotta be cool relax, get hip, Get on my tracks, Take a back seat, hitch-hike, And take a long ride on my motor bike, Until I'm ready, Crazy little thing called love." Dumb and the video is even dumber.

Radio Gaga - The insipid lyrics say it all:

All we hear is radio ga ga
Radio goo goo
Radio ga ga
All we hear is radio ga ga
Radio blah blah

The video borrows heavily Metropolis.

We Will Rock You/We Are the Champions - Overplayed and underdone. But, go back to that album, News of the World, and cue up Sheer Heart Attack, Fight from the Inside, Sleeping on the Sidewalk, and Get Down, Make Love and you will discover that Queen had a small number of sort of OK songs. That's it, really: the rest are abominations. Have a look at their greatest hits CD and you will see what I mean. It should be called Greatest Failures.

A not-so-bad Queen song:


See: part 10

Overrated, part 8 of 10

(see: parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7)

I thought about including Meatloaf on this list, but I changed my mind. You know, Marvin is a pretty good actor, so I couldn't do it, even though I hate all of his music passionately. I can see through that and understand the attraction. He's like a one man quasi-opera for poor folk, peons, plebeians, and the proletariat. As an youngish boy, I thought that there was something to Paradise by the Dashboard Lights and I related to that. So, the adolescent boy in me kept him off the list. Besides, no one could describe his music as boring, which segues nicely into number 3.

3) The Eagles - Yawn. They remind me of certain words, like:

dull (dŭl)
adj., dull·er, dull·est.

1. Intellectually weak or obtuse; stupid.
2. Lacking responsiveness or alertness; insensitive.
3. Dispirited; depressed.
4. Not brisk or rapid; sluggish: Business is dull.
5. Not having a sharp edge or point; blunt: a dull knife.
6. Not intensely or keenly felt: a dull ache.
7. Arousing no interest or curiosity; boring: a dull play.
8. Not bright or vivid. Used of a color: a dull brown.
9. Cloudy or overcast: a dull sky.
10. Not clear or resonant: a dull thud.

SYNONYMS colorless, drab, humdrum, lackluster, pedestrian, stodgy, uninspired.

bor·ing (bôr'ĭng, bōr'-)
adj.

Uninteresting and tiresome; dull.

SYNONYMS monotonous, tedious, irksome, tiresome, humdrum.

Listening to the Eagles is about as interesting as watching paint dry. Writing about the Eagles is like writing about paint drying. I'd rather listen to white noise; I'd rather write about dandruff. But, I will do my duty and finish this post. Can any musician or group of musicians be more boring than the Eagles? I think not. Nothing comes close. Well, there is Barry Manilow.

When the Eagles broke up in 1980, I just said thank the lord! Thank the lord that we don't have to have any more dreck like The Long Run thrown at us. Just how in hell does a ridiculous song like Heartache Tonight make it to number 1 on the charts? It's only marginally better than I Love a Rainy Night. For some reason, these songs remind me of each other. It's probably the pedestrian melodies and the stupid lyrics, like:

We can beat around the bushes;
we can get down to the bone
We can leave it in the parkin' lot,
but either way, there's gonna be a
heartache tonight, a heartache tonight I know.

Imagine rhyming 'bone' with 'gonna'. It sounds clunky to me.

Apparently, Don Henley once dated Stevie Nicks. Why would anyone date Stevie Nicks? That's reason enough not to like the Eagles. Henley and Nicks even recorded a song together. I decided to listen to Leather and Lace so that I could give you an informed opinion of it. That song is going to give me nightmares. You can listen here, but be careful for it could really inflict some serious damage on your ears. The Tom Petty and Stevie Nicks duet is only marginally better. I have some respect for Tom, and I was really upset when that dud of a song came out.

Hey, I have rewritten the first verse of Desperado:

Dear Eagles, why don't you come to your senses
you're a washed up old band with nothing to say
Oh you're a lost bunch
I know that you've got your reasons
Money and fame that are pleasin' you
You want your pay day

Not bad, huh? I did the last verse too:

Dear Eagles, you need to come to your senses?
Come down from your stages, burn your music
Why don't you go away?, your last album really sucked
It may be rainin', but there's no rainbow above you
It's the best to do thing before you really lose it

I planned to do the whole song, but the tune of Desperado got stuck in my head and it was driving me mad. Is it just me, or was the last part of the preceding sentence also to the tune of Desperado? Maybe I am imagining it. That song is infectious, but not in a good way. It's more like a virulent white plague. Hang on while I put on some good music to flush out the Eagles.... Ah, that's better.

My sister is a big Eagles fan, along with classic bands like Heart, Styx, Trooper, Journey, etc. I once said I didn't like the Eagles and I think she must have thought I meant the Philadelphia Eagles, which was a reasonable enough assumption, I suppose. She wondered aloud, "who doesn't like Hotel California?" Me, that's who. That song is idiotic. I am aware of the band's interpretation of the song, and I guess I can see where they are coming from, but it seems like the quintessential example of a drug-induced song that completely fails to hold my interest, which is strange because I am all for drug-induced music.

This is better:



Hell would have to freeze over before I will ever be an Eagles fan.
I am off now to have my other retinal tear lasered. Later.

See: part 9

Overrated, part 7 of 10

(see: parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6)

I used to have longish hair, believe it or not. Someday, I might even post the photographic evidence. Well, don't bet on that. Recently, I have been giving serious thought to regrowing the flowing locks, maybe all of the way down to my ass. It would cause quite a stir in certain quarters, but that is what I am after: shock and awe, my friends, shock and awe. The youth have it easier when if comes to shock value options. As we age, there is less we can do, so, aside from new eyeglasses (they are on the way), long hair may be my only choice. Oh, and tattoos, but I already have one.

And now, number 4 on my list of overrated musical acts. (note that
I have omitted all Idol winners, as they are a bunch no talent wannabes). And now, number 4...

4) Bon Jovi - I bet you didn't know that Bon Jovi (the group, not Jon Boy) has sold over 120 million albums. If you do the math - like I did - you'll decide to quit your day job, grow your hair (maybe just so you can cut it later), get some plastic surgery (so you will have chiseled Kevin Baconish good looks), surround yourself with songwriters (who can pump out the ballads), plus a group of musicians willing to live under the shadow of your surname. Yep, that's a recipe for success, my friends, a recipe for success. I am getting on this right now.

If there's a good side, and maybe there is a good side to everything, it might be that JBJ doesn't seem to like George Dubya Bush. This is the only good news. The bad news, of course, is JBJ's foray into acting. But, you see what's happening, don't you? It's virtually impossible to discuss Bon Jovi without it becoming a discussion about Jon Bon Jovi. So, I will treat them as the same thing, my friends, the same lame thing.

But, back to the acting. It is refreshing to see people make fun of themselves, so I appreciate this SNL skit:



But, that's all there is to admire, as far as I am concerned. Most of the songs sound the same. Worse is the fact that all Bon Jovi videos look like ads for a satanic hair salon. And the lyrics. Oh, man, check this out:

With an ironclad fist I wake up and
French kiss the morning

Say what? I am all for poetic license, but this stinks.

Have you ever checked out Yahoo! Answers? You can post a question and gets lots of answers. Here's an interesting question, that someone once asked:

Q: Is Bon Jovi gay? i have a shirt that says bon jovi and some people refer to it as the gay...is that true? should i take the shirt back to the store?

(Who knows if the questioner means the band or JBJ. Anyway, on to some answers:)

A: Bon Jovi is not gay his music is but he is not.
A: Are the sleeves cut off?
A: Bon Jovi the man is not gay, just his music

Because I can't resist the Urban Dictionary...

12. Bon Jovi

another name for an erection. It's about time for a new word for erection.

14. Bon Jovi

When you see a girl from behind with tight jeans, long flowing hair, only to find out its a guy from the front. Hey, check out this broad... Oh, shit its a Bon Jovi!!! GROSS

15. bon jovi

A transvestite that has attempted too many times to release a good album, let alone a good song. Is a disgrace to the face of humanity and rock and roll. Sold his/her soul to the devil and owns a shitty Arena Football team that nobody gives a shit about.

16. Bon Jovi

a really gay singer who has no good songs and all his songs sound exactly the same.
did you hear greenday? ya they're just like Bon Jovi.

Finally, confirmation from the Urban Dictionary. And, now I just have to rewrite a bit of one of his songs:

Shot through the heart
And you're to blame
You give New Jersey a bad name

The list will continue on Monday.

See: part 8

Overrated, part 6 of 10

(see: parts 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5)

I acquired a few CDs at a lawn sale recently. I am especially enjoying the two Decemberists CDs that I got for essentially no money. What else did I get from that sale? .... oh, a Van Morrison CD, the Concretes, a couple of FemBots discs, a Flaming Lips CD and DVD, for example. There was also some punkier stuff, like Ikara Colt, The Hives, and the Fatal Flying Guilloteens. So, you see I have nothing against harder stuff with electric guitars, well some of it at least, which brings us to number 5 on my top ten list of overrated acts.

5) Guns 'n Roses - When I first heard that Axl Rose was working on Chinese Democracy, I took it literally and thought this was an admirable post-pock thing to do. Why him, I wondered? It makes no sense. I was quickly disabused of my false notion. Chinese Democracy is, in fact, a long-promised new album. I fear the worst for the legions of G 'n R fans awaiting an album that has been in production for 10 years. It will have to be a huge letdown once it finally sees the light of day. The weight of expectation will certainly overwhelm whatever they manage to put out on CD.

I have never appreciated the high-pitched vocals of the heavy metal set. I am aware that the blame for this might lay with Led Zeppelin, a band I have always admired. It may be so. And yet, there are major differences, I think, between Robert Plant's vocals and those of the heavy metal acts that followed. Plant's vocals have a lot of blues in them, at least to my ears, while the vocals of G 'n R sound more like the screeching of someone who really cannot sing.

Apparently, Appetite for Destruction is the second biggest-selling debut album of all time, just behind the first Boston album (no, I am not a Boston fan either, but I like the city very much). Maybe I was listening to the wrong radio station, but it was several years before I finally heard a song from G 'n R. At the time, I was TV-less, and paid no attention to commercial music, like G 'n R, so I missed it all. In hindsight, I am happy to say that I didn't miss anything, except for an interesting wedding gown.

As always, I like to branch out to the web to gather other opinions of acts. The Urban Dictionary is an unlikely place to look for opinions on bands, but in this case, it informs. I provide a few choice excerpts:

1. guns n roses

A REAL rock band. Unfortunately some people listen to a single song and say they suck, but you're wrong.

Over 9.6 million Guns 'n' Roses fans CAN'T be wrong!

Of course, s/he meant to write "they're wrong" so that it agrees with "some people." What I'd like to say to this person is: "500 million Michael Jackson fans can't be wrong! (Thriller has sold over 108 million copies alone). So there!" Of course, I hate Michael Jackson's music.

2. guns n roses

The Best Band Of The 80's, they made me feel so good about myself, before Nirvana came along (gives Nirvana Deathstare). Nirvana made 80's metal look artificial, when really, it was F**KING AWESOME! Axl's a babe! They're all babes!

How can you say Nirvana and metal in the same sentence, dude? But, it does beg the question as to why certain women, and I think they are largely teenagers, fall for long-haired men who wear make-up and skin-tight leather or leopard-skin pants? And that brings us to definition number 9:

9. guns n roses

lame shitty 80's hair metal band
really big among teenyboppers

That's exactly what I am saying. And, on to definition number 11:

11. guns n roses

Worst band of the entire 80's!!!!
And that's saying something because the 80's sucked Satan's balls!!!!!!

Note the number of exclamation points! I wouldn't use such vulgar terms to describe the 80s, and I don't like the image of Satan being all dog-like, but you have to admire the passion in this person's definition. S/he seems to know music.

By the way, Knockin' on Heaven's Door was written by Bob Dylan, in case you G 'n R fans missed it.



See: part 7

Overrated, part 5 of 10

(see: parts 1, 2, 3, and 4)

I hope you are not bored yet. I am reminding myself of those long countdowns I used to listen to on the radio, especially at year's end. We'd get the top 500 songs of the year or the top 500 songs of all time. Either way, the lists were completely wrong. I recall that Stairway to Heaven seemed always to top the list of best songs. I am a Led Zeppelin fan, and I have to say that it is not the best song ever; it's not even close to the best Zeppelin song. In fact, it wouldn't even make my top 25 list of best Zeppelin songs. But, on to number 6 ...

6) Van Halen - Eddie Van Halen is known for his musical technique of tapping, in which he uses both hands on the guitar neck. Tapping has been around for as long as we have had stringed instruments. Lots of other guitarists have used this technique as well. The thing about Eddie Van Halen is that his style is really all about speed, which is bound to impress certain people.

Perhaps the most irritating thing was Eddie Van Halen's guitar solo in Michael Jackson's Beat It. I didn't like the song, but I have to say that it is very appropriate to place a masturbatory, self-indulgent guitar solo in a song called Beat It. Wikipedia notes that Beat It "is regarded by many as one of Jackson's masterworks." That really isn't saying too much.

Here is the mercifully-short Eruption highlighting his style:



There is nothing musical to me here. It's just speed and self-indulgence. If you want an excellent example of instrumental rock music in under 2 and a half minutes, check this out:



By the way, even though I am not a fan, I was unhappy when David Lee Roth left the band because that led to the inevitable solo career. One summer, while planting trees in southern Ontario, I must have heard Just a Gigolo about ten thousand times in my uncle's old Dodge Dart that only had an AM radio. I can still recite the lyrics. Sadly, science has not figured out how to regrow dead brain cells.

See part 6