I love flying. Post-9-11 I hate airports and airlines. In a little over fourteen hours I will be forced to put up with all of these things in order to get to Dallas for work. I wish I had something funny or witty to say about that, but it’s been a long day, mostly filled with frenetic cleaning and my daughter’s tenth birthday party, and I need to sleep, and to pack.
Wish me luck, internets!
Not necessarily this post, just in general. Read.
And if you’re interested in writing, and writing well, listen when good advice appears, but evaluate it yourself. Here is some of what I’ve found to be good advice and interesting commentary on the written word, how it’s made, and where the industry surrounding it may end up:
Aaron Diaz, one of my favorite cartoonists and an interesting thinker, recently posted this essay.
Specifically a critique. As one writer and creative thinker to another. Sit down, this will take awhile. If you’re possessed of a very short attention span, leave now.
Wall Street…honestly, the whole stock market system of public trading…it’s got to go.
Don’t think so? Click here for a good example, if you somehow still need one after the recent economic meltdown.
In other news…I’ve scanned or photographed and then scrapped a lot of old art from college, and I’m getting some of my current work more in order. Also, doing considerable writing and brainstorming. Things are coming, sooner rather than later.
…and I don’t feel any different. Or so say the lyrics to “The New Year” from Transatlanticism, a really stellar album from Death Cab for Cutie.
On the topic of music, I’ve got a recently discovered guilty pleasure to share: the album Ocean Eyes by Owl City. It’s sugary electronic pop, a sort of auditory cotton candy, laid atop overzealously confessional “sensitive guy” lyrics. It’s basically Death Cab for today’s teens. But buried under the excessively digital joie de vivre of the music are some startlingly fun, witty lyrical gems. Here are three quick standouts:
Taking a break from a long weekend of cleaning – and I’ll be back at work tomorrow, haha woo holidays, amirite? – to bring you some random arty stuff from the far reaches of the interwebnets:
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The third album released by American rock band 30 Seconds to Mars, this disc seems to split the difference between their eponymous debut and second album, A Beautiful Lie. The debut album was basically a rock soundtrack for the ultimate sci-fi movie that’s never been made (yet). It’s really great music to daydream or make art to. The followup had a couple of standouts but was mostly just okay. This Is War is in part a return to the soundtrack-for-your-imagination feel of the debut, but it still makes a number of concessions to current pop-rock sensibilities that kind of tweak my nerves a little.
The first single is the anthemic track “Kings and Queens,” which is a good song but not really representative of the band. It took me a couple of listens to realize that the song is reminiscent of a Nickelback track (just pick one, they all sound the same anyway) in that it combines catchy hooks and power chords to great effect in a ballad-y format.
As much as I enjoy the track, it might have been nice to see something not so geared toward lowest-common-denominator tapped for the first single spot.
The vaguely Nickelback vocal style reappears on several tracks, most notably in the first minute or so of “Night of the Hunter.”
The real standout moments of this album are a result of its unorthodox recording approach: the band recorded the album in an open studio setup in front of an audience, and uses recordings of the audience participating to great effect on several tracks. The opening of “Vox Populi” features the hair-raising sound of a crowd stomping, clapping, and chanting in close time. The rest of the song is good, but is almost weak as a followup to the visceral effect of the early crowd vocals.
Taken as a whole, This Is War is a strong album, but far from perfect. It’s worth a listen, and features more auditory diversity than either of its predecessors.
The Score: A sometimes-grudging, sometimes-delighted thumbs up.