Sunday, January 30, 2011

I Absolutely Won't Murder You.

As a single man in this crazy mixed-up world of ours, it can be hard to meet that special someone. Luckily, online dating services like E-Harmony and JDate are around to take the human interaction out of human interaction. With that in mind, I've made my first foray into the world of online dating using the free service, OKCupid.

Crafting my profile, though, I needed something that would stand out. The specter of the Craigslist Killer and To Catch A Predator still looms large over the internet, and while I know that I'm just about the best guy around, my charms can be lost behind the electronic veil of fear that separates man from his fellow man on the internet. I needed a potential love interest to know that, under no circumstances, would I murder them.

So I made "IWontMurderYou."

And what do you know? People seem to dig the fact that I won't murder them. Responses range from coy (";)") to warm ("I LOVE not murdering people! We should meet up and do it together sometime!") to slutty ("Wanna meet up", "You can come over and not murder me anytime ;)") to unprintable.

Looks like I'm going to be not murdering anybody tonight!!!

UPDATE: It looks like OKCupid took issue with my stance on not murdering and took down the profile. Luckily, it's been archived.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Circle of Death Rules, 2010 Edition

The philosopher George Santayana once wrote, “Those who cannot learn from history are doomed to repeat it.” Since you’re going to be playing drinking games in 2011 anyway, why not use those drinking games to learn from the history of 2010 and not repeat last year’s mistakes? By using these 2010-specific Circle of Death (or “Kings,” or “King Cup,” etc.) rules, you can do just that, getting drunk and educated at the same time.

Circle of Death Rules (2010 Edition)

TWO is JetBlue. You’re JetBlue Flight Attendant Steven Slater. Curse someone out, steal their drink, take a sip, and then storm away from the table with middle fingers extended.  

THREE is BP. Spill as much of your drink into anyone else’s mouth for as long as you want. While you are spilling, blame another person at the table, who then has to drink once. If the person whose mouth is being spilled into starts to choke, apologize, but don’t stop spilling.

FOUR is Four Lokos. Have 4 sips of your drink, and also 4 spoonfuls of sugar. Passing out two hours before everyone else is optional.

FIVE is FIFA World Cup. Everyone heartily toasts this person once, and then totally ignores him until the next 5 is drawn. Anyone who talks to or about the person who drew the FIFA World Cup card after the initial toast must drink, as he is a social outcast and a weirdo.

SIX is Dick Pics. You’re Brett Favre. Take a picture of your drink with your phone and send it to one other player. Whoever receives the picture message must take a drink, but only a really, really small one.

SEVEN is ‘Zona. You are the Arizona sobriety officer. At any time, “arrest” anyone who looks to you like he might be sober and make them drink.

EIGHT is LBJ. You are LeBron James. Declare that you are bringing your talents to South Beach, take a drink with two of your friends, and then stand on your chair and tell the rest of the table to suck it.

NINE is Chilean mines. The last person to get out of his seat and lay flat on the floor must drink. This person must also lay flat on the floor until the next 9 is drawn. He can still participate in the game, however, by calling someone at the table and being put on speakerphone.

TEN is Julian. You are Julian Assange, head of WikiLeaks. Tell a secret about anyone at the table. That person must then drink however much they feel the ‘leak’ merited; if the leak is really bad, that person will want to drink a lot, anyway.

JACK is Barack. You’re the Rulemaster! Make any rule you want.

QUEEN is Congress. You must propose a rule totally opposed to the current Rulemaster’s Rule. Until the Queen and the Jack agree on a compromise, everyone else is screwed over and must drink every time a card is drawn.

KING is Kanye. All of your sentences must begin with “I”; if you don’t begin a sentence with “I” or talk about how rich and/or miserable you are, drink.

ACE is Eyjafjallajokull, the Icelandic volcano. For the first three aces, he who drew the ace pours  as much beer as they want into the center cup or the “crater.” When the last ace is drawn, he who drew that ace pours all of the beer into his mouth, holds it there, and then spews it straight up into the air. This is, as you might imagine, the end of the game.

Friday, January 21, 2011

Fake Das Racist is the new Fake Kool G Rap

This has absolutely nothing to do with Fake Das Racist, but I haven't been so excited by a Twitter feed since my mother joined:

I can't confirm this, but I'm pretty sure FakeDasRacist is is Banksy's new side project.

Also, this will probably only make sense and/or be funny if you listen to indie rap group Das Racist. Fair warning.

Check it out:

Monday, January 17, 2011

In Which YouTube Users Estimate the Number of Other YouTube Users Who Cannot Dougie

What follows is simply a reverse chronological list of six days worth of comments I found on the official video for Cali Swag District's "Teach Me How to Dougie" that attempt to become one of the top comments by simply commenting on the correlation between the number of people who dislike the video and those who do not know how to dougie.

Presented without, ahem, comment:

Friday, January 14, 2011

Wordle of the Lyrics in My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy

Out of curiosity, I plugged all of the lyrics to Kanye West's "My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy" into Wordle and this is what I got. Maybe the album should have been called "Know Ridiculous Lights."

Uh, maybe not.

What the Fork?!?! - January, Week 2

[For last week's inaugural WHAT THE FORK?!?!, click here]
This was a very good week for totally inexplicably pretentious authorial choices and references to musical movements I didn't know existed. Let's get right to it with three quotes from Pitchfork's first review of the week, the big front page story on the Monday Hipster Times, (1.) Jess Harvell's review of Gatekeeper's Giza EP:

Last year, around the time Salem were causing such an online ruckus by marrying exploitation movie aesthetics to plodding beats, Pitchfork contributor Philip Sherburne wrote a piece on his blog that attempted to link the vogue for "witch house" to a wider trend toward dark, dank electronic music. He cast a wide net, from the krautrock-ish Emeralds to the haunted sound of post-Burial dubstep.

Salem caused "an online ruckus"? Do they have anything to do with WikiLeaks?

Also, LOL at Sherburne for trying to link the vogue for "witch house" with krautrock-ish Emeralds and post-burial dubstep. What a dumbshit.

Gatekeeper combine elements of mid-period Cabaret Voltaire (the eerie, unintelligible sampled moans and growls)

But how am I to think of mid-period Cabaret Voltaire and only think of the eerie, unintelligible sampled moans?!? Am I meant to simply discard the other hallmarks of mid-period Cabaret Voltaire?!? An undue burden has been placed upon the reader!

 the most sinister stalking-you-down-a-dark-alley strains of Detroit techno (think Suburban Knight more than Derrick May)

I almost always think Suburban Knight more than Derrick May, so no problem there.

 and the on-the-cheap choral grandeur of every keyboard-owning "composer" ever tasked to rip off Vangelis' score for Blade Runner.

"Keyboard-owning "composer" tasked to rip off Vangelis' score for Blade Runner" was actually my Halloween costume last year; second most common costume in NYC after Chilean miner.

The vibe of Giza is pure suburban hoodrat thrills, over-amped electronic music made for teenage metalheads playing coin-op games in grotty strip mall arcades.

Little known industry secret: Conan lost The Tonight Show because he just wasn't drawing in the teenage-metalheads-playing-coin-op-games-in-grotty-strip-mall-arcade demographic like executives thought he would.

(2.) From Nick Neyland's review of Ducktails III: Arcade Dynamics by Ducktails:

The uptick in bedroom musicians slotting cassette tapes into dusty four-tracks and coating their music with thick layers of distortion reached its apogee in the past year. It's difficult to sift through any music content online without stumbling across reams of opaque artists blurring out the world, many of whom were tied together under the "hypnagogic pop" banner. 

Is it difficult though?

(3.) From Patrick Sisson's review of Prefuse 73/Jaytram/Epstein by Prefuse 73/Jaytram/Epstein (let's ignore the name of the album/artist and go straight into the review):

The Brooklyn-by-way-of-Florida beatmaker and sound artist [Roberto Carlos Lange] isn't exactly an unknown. He's released albums as Helado Negro, participated in Guillermo Scott Herren's Savath y Savalas project, produced Bear in Heaven's latest album, and collaborated with Juliana Barwick, among other projects.

He's also a regular on the popular local game show Williamsburg Squares.

(4.) From Andrew Gaerig's review of Bangs & Works, Vol. 1: A Chicago Footwork Compilation by Various Artists:

Let's be clear: footwork, or footwurk, or footwerk is not blowing up. Not like dubstep or electroclash or hyphy blew up.

What about futwhark?

There is little question why footwork evolved in Chicago: House music birthed the raunchier, uptempo ghetto house (or "juke"), which in turn led to the stripped-for-parts footwork sound. 

This, in fact, answered all of my questions as to why footwork evolved in Chicago.

Unlike, say, house music, which has been refracted into a million directions, Bangs & Works will sound homogenous and alien on first listen (remember back to your first listen to Run the Road or Favela Booty Beats; shit's going to start off a little annoying). 

Try though I may, I cannot remember my first listens to Run the Road or Favela Booty Beats, nor am I totally convinced that these are actual works of music.

(5.) From Joe Tangari's review of A Young Person's Guide to Kyle Bobby Dunn by Kyle Bobby Dunn:

It may seem as though I'm comparing listening to his music to watching paint dry (and to some people, that's probably what the glacially shifting 17-minute drone "Butel" will seem like), but it really is interesting, involving music for fans of ambient drone.

Do any other ambient drone fans out there think "Butel" could have been longer and more glacial, or just me?

(6.) From Philip Sherburne's review of Imaginary Softwoods by Imaginary Softwoods:

That outlier status has helped bring the album to the fore in a catalog that's strewn with cassette and CD-R releases, enough to overwhelm all but the most obsessive fan. It was originally released as a triple cassette on Cleveland's Wagon label in 2008; in 2009, Wagon re-issued it in a CD-R edition of 100 and Digitalis snuck out 150 copies on double vinyl. Finally, late last year, Digitalis brought out a more plentiful vinyl edition, remastered by James Plotkin (who also mastered Emeralds' and Oneohtrix Point Never's recent albums for Editions Mego) and cut at Berlin's Dubplates and Mastering Studios.

I actually have one of Imaginary Softwood's first releases, recorded on a Yak Bak in Fort Lauderdale. 

It's not hard to connect this self-titled album from his Imaginary Softwoods alias to Emeralds or any of Elliott's other projects, like Mist (with Sam Goldberg) and Outer Space. All 12 tracks are based on synthesizers, sequencers, and sound-sculpting effects, and they nod to a vast realm of ambient electronic music, from Krautrock's "kosmische" contingent to Kevin Drumm and Tim Hecker

Q: How much acid do you have to do to exist in a "vast realm of ambient electronic music?"

That's all for this week's WHAT THE FORK?!?! Have fun this weekend, and don't get lost in a vast realm of ambient electronic music -- you may never return.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

The New Orleans Saints Had a Rough Weekend

[Note: I wrote this on Sunday but for one reason or another it was never published on my new home, EvilChili. Here it is anyway, no longer topical ya'll]

The sports world and the city of New Orleans were shocked on Saturday when the 11-4 Saints lost to 7-9 Seattle Seahawks in the first round of the NFL playoffs, marking the first time a team with a losing record has ever won a playoff game. Though the loss was embarrassing, it was only the first of several humiliations to befall the Saints this weekend. Just a take a look at these other headlines from this Monday's New Orleans Times-Picayune:

Britney Spears - Hold It Against Me (A Capella Cover)

Britney's back, and so is Business Flannel!


Hey over there
Please forgive me
If I’m coming on too strong
Hate to stare
But you’re winning
And they’re playing my favorite song

So come here
A little closer
Wanna whisper in your ear
Make It clear
Little question
Wanna know just how you feel

If I said my heart was beating loud
If we could escape the crowd somehow
If I said I want your body now
Would you hold it against me

Cause you feel like paradise
I need a vacation tonight
So if I said I want your body now
Would you hold it against me

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

I Am Not Well Enough Acquainted With My Favorite Rappers To Call Them By Their Nicknames

Buster Rhymes


Walker Flocka Flame

Nicholas Minaj

Ghostface Killbourne



Bigothy Smalls

Snoop Douglas

Saturday, January 8, 2011

What the Fork?!?! - January, Week 1

I'd like for this to be a weekly segment (and perhaps the only segment, now that my work is to be featured on penis joke website EvilChili).

The premise is this:

I am going to read every review that Pitchfork publishes for the week.

Whenever I have to stop in my reading and wonder what in the name of Pavement the author is talking about, I will copy and paste the portion of the review here.

It's simple.

And here we go.


What the Fork?!?!
January, Week 1

The most  turgid, overwritten, pretentious, navel-gazing writing offered by Pitchfork reviewers for the week of January 3 - 7.
1. From the review of "Life of Love" by Callers:
Callers move in mysterious ways. The Brooklyn-by-way-of-New Orleans trio mixes a sort of jazzy folk with snatches of wildly disparate stuff like prog and slowcore, Eastern-flecked drone, gauzy 50s pop, turn-on-a-dime post-punk[...]
Though the Callers album only received a 7.6 from Pitchfork, I have little doubt that it will be at or near the top of most lists for the best prog/slowcore/Eastern-flecked drone/1950s pop/turn-on-a-dime post-punk albums of the year.

2. From the review of "Fabric 55" by Shackleton:
 In a home-listening context, it's often easier to file [Shackleton] alongside Coil and your Edward Gorey prints as Michael Mayer or Skream. 
Granted, Pitchfork reviewer Andrew Gaerig maintains a fairly complicated filing system.

3. From the review of "Utopia EP" by Jason Forrest:
Full disclosure: I have been licked by Jason Forrest. However, I'm probably not alone, as Forrest presumably tongue-bathed many a supporter in the mid-aughts while touring on the back of his two wonderfully spastic full-lengths, The Unrelenting Songs of the 1979 Post-Disco Crash and Shamelessly Exciting.
Is this an eye-catching lede? Yes. Is "The Unrelenting Songs of the 1979 Post-Disco Crash" an album title I would have made up if attempting to mock the kind of album Pitchfork reviews? Yes.

4. From the review of "Kompilation" by Jurgen Paape:
Alongside fellow label co-owner Michael Mayer, Paape captures glints of nearly all of Kompakt's pop-minded adventurers: The wistful melancholia of Superpitcher, the utopian dazzle of Rex the Dog, the childlike openness of Justus Köhncke.
 The fleeting hatred of Lepton Firehose, the Plutonian camaraderie of Marianne Chickenladle...

5. From the review of "Seeds" by The Knife:
There were about 25 minutes of revelatory music buried in [Tomorrow, In a Year's] back half, but you had to wade through hair-raising atonal mezzo-soprano shrieking and grinding sheets of industrial noise to make it there[...]
If I have to wade through what I assume to be hours of "atonal mezzo-soprano shrieking and grinding sheets of industrial noise" to find the good part of an album, that good part of the album better contain the fucking voice of God.

6. From the review of "In the House" by Tensnake:
While mainstream dance conquers the pop charts for the first time since the Jock Jams era (the Black Eyed Peas, David Guetta, etc.), the post-dubstep diaspora is challenging underground dance music's hold on its audience from the other direction. In the middle, the international polyglot of dance producers and DJs continues to build upon the trends of the past few years, reviving disco, 1980s boogie, Italo, Balearic beats, Detroit techno, and deep and acid house-- a constellation of sounds laid out in weekly Beats in Space podcasts.
Hi, I'm Ira Glass, and this week on the Beats in Space podcast: 1980s boogie, Balearic beats, and the post-dubstep diaspora, coming up.

7. From the review of "Utopia EP" by Jason Forrest:
Only the closing "Goldbluff" satisfies one's classic Jason Forrest craving, combining classic rock carpet swatches-- a bit of Garth Hudson organ here, some Chicago Transit Authority horn stabs there-- and crafting a piece of violet, head-bobbing psychedelia that survives a late-term disintegration into bit-core  
In addition to containing one hell of a confusing image--What is a "classic rock carpet swatch"?--this Rob Mitchum opus is my "WHAT THE FORK?!?! Pitchfork Mumbo-Jumbo of the Week"!

This one sentence contains so much Pitchfork goodness, a near microcosm of confounding Pitch-prose:
  1. "One's classic Jason Forrest craving" (is this something that can be satisfied with a late-night run to the WaWa?)
  2. "A bit of Garth Hudson organ here, some Chicago Transit Authority horn stabs there" (raise your hand if you had to use a search engine to find out that "Garth Hudson" was the organist in The Band!)
  3. "violet psychedelia" (Is Rob Mitchum a synesthetic, or just at deadline and under word count?)
  4. "that survives a late-term disintegration into bit-core" (What is "bit-core," and how does a song "survive a late-term disintegration" into it? Is this clear to anyone? What is Rob Mitchum talking about? WHAT THE FORK?!?!)
That's it for this week. Have a good weekend, and remember, hipsters: please pay for your music.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

New Post by Business Flannel Dreamboat Jason on EvilChili

(Yes, I just called myself a dreamboat; if I don't, who will?)

So I am now a writer for EvilChili, a blossoming, beautiful comedy website, which means that my content posted on this website will be limited and more "ad hoc" in nature.

But hey:

Here's my latest from EvilChili:

Check me out, Ma! Tapa the World! [Trademark sign]

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Daily Dolla Billz, Ya'll

Heyo Bloggernetz,

Do you like money? How about knowledge? Websites that update every day?

Then I suggest you check out, a website created by Business Flannel's own Clayton Raithel.

The site is super nifty (check out those graphics) and it offers you the chance to make more money than you would by not reading it.

So check it out, and hey, tell him the Wolfman sent ya!

Business Flannel - President Barack Obama - Fuck You


I see ya'll shoutin' all about
Your big mid-term gains
And I'm like, "Fuck you!"

I guess the Change that I brought ya
Got ya poopin' your Hanes--
--Well, Fuck You!
And, Fuck her too!

You can libel and slander,
I'm still chief commander
Ha! Now ain't that some shit?
(Ain't that some shit?)

And though our losses were quite large
I'm still fuckin' in charge
So, uh, fuck you!
(Ooh hoo hooo!)

Now baby you knew,
I'm from Honolulu
And that means I'm here fair and square.

You took the House back,
But that don't mean doo doo
So don't go tryin' to repeal healthcare.

I pity the fooool who messes with my shii-ii-it,
(No one likes a complainer)
(Just thought you should know, Boehner)
I got some news for you,
Go run and tell your little GOP Congressional Caucus

I see ya'll shoutin' all about
Your big mid-term gains
And I'm like, "Fuck you!"

I guess the Change that I brought ya
Got ya poopin' your Hanes--
--Well, Fuck You!
And, Fuck her too!

You can libel and slander,
I'm still chief commander
Ha! Now ain't that some shit?
(Ain't that some shit?)

And though our losses were quite large
I'm still fuckin' in charge
So, uh, fuck you!
(Ooh hoo hooo!)

Now Boehner, Boehner, Boehner,
Why you wanna go and hurt me so bad?
(So bad, so bad, so bad?)
Is it because you're worried I'll make taxes higher on your fake tan?
(Your tan, your tan, your tan?)
And I'm like, "Why?"
"Why, Boehner?"
It's ugly! It's so ugly!

I see ya'll shoutin' all about
Your big mid-term gains
And I'm like, "Fuck you!"

I guess the Change that I brought ya
Got ya poopin' your Hanes--
--Well, Fuck You!
And, Fuck her too!

You can libel and slander,
I'm still chief commander
Ha! Now ain't that some shit?
(Ain't that some shit?)

And though our losses were quite large
I'm still fuckin' in charge
So, uh, fuck you!
(Ooh hoo hooo!)