Point Break Live

First, there must be full disclosure. For all these years (1) now, you have been led to believe that Random Ramblings is a fully staffed internet endeavor, with multiple revenue streams going towards travel, clients, interpretive dance classes, billboard promotion, etc.  However, we (I) cannot live the lie anymore. There is only one member/CEO/Editor in Chief of Random Ramblings.  If there is ever a “we” where an “I” should be in the future, it is just self-denial creeping in. Feel free to virtually slap me in the face.  I just felt like your reading experience would be heightened by the new sense of honesty that you would feel by hearing this admission (in the great words of Marky Mark, “Feel it, feel it“). If you find yourself feeling extremely disillusioned and wanting a refund, feel free to seek out that money by whatever means necessary (extreme force, if warranted).  We will release our office location later (ie-never).

Today I viewed the cinematic goodness that is “Point Break“.  This gem from 1991 has everything you could ask for in a movie.  Keanu Reeves, surfing, Keanu Reeves using surf speak (insert obvious “how is that different from any other movie” joke here), Patrick Swayze, and no embarrassing Patrick Swayze songs on the soundtrack. Speaking of the soundtrack, there is an excellent song by Wire Train called “I Will Not Fall” that is prominently featured during a scene where Keanu Reeves’ character, Johnny Utah, is indeed trying not to fall off his surfboard. Kudos to the screenwriter for that tidbit of cleverness!)

Ok, so the movie is a bit over the top. But I still love it.  I saw it in the theater multiple times and it still holds up for that part of me that likes brainless action movies. And truth be told, it isn’t as brainless as most of Michael Bay/Jerry Bruckheimer’s swill. But is hard not to smirk when Bodhi, played subtly by Swayze, tells Utah that the secret to catching a wave is to “harness it’s energy and react to it”. or when Utah and his partner, Pappas (Busey) engage in various high fives and comraderie building yelling.

The Random Ramblings Observance of the Death of Michael Jackson

So we know that Random Ramblings is a little late on the whole Michael Jackson eulogy thing. But we wanted to dust to settle, instead of having a knee jerk reaction to his death(last week you would have thought he simultaneously cured Cancer, AIDS, found Jimmy Hoffa, and brought together Kanye West and George Bush).

We will spare you us waxing poetic for paragraph upon paragraph about what the music meant/means to us. But just for the record: we believe he was an amazing artist, who made awesome music (Billie Jean and Remember the Time are two of our favorites), and who also had a very troubled and sad personal life.  There, now that we’ve got that out of the way, we can focus on what is really important: the liner notes to HIStory.

Yes, over the weekend we too immersed ourselves in the catalogue of the King of Pop (remember, he anointed himself with that title.  I have since proclaimed myself the King of Cheddar, candles, and grass).  And while looking through the greatest hits package of 1995, the long winded letter that Elizabeth Taylor wrote stuck out like a crazy, wacked out, smoking crack rock sore thumb. So we bring to you the greatest hits of Elizabeth Taylor’s rambling letter to MJ.

Indecent Response Unit

 

While driving down the highway one day this summer, I noticed an ambulance with the words “Indecent Response Unit” printed on the side.  I looked away, then quickly glanced back to realize that I had misread it, and that it actually said “Incident Response Unit”.  I must admit, I was dismayed. Sure, an Incident Response Unit is all the things you might guess: appropriate, helpful, beneficial, etc.  But wouldn’t life be more interesting with an Indecent Response Unit? Allow me to explain. 

You are rushing to the grocery store to buy some much needed supplies (ie: nachos) for an important meeting (ie: watching “Escape to Chimp Eden”).  You get said supplies, hurry to your car, and discover to your horror that you have locked your keys in your car.  An observant passerby notices this, and astutely calls the Indecent Response Unit. They quickly dispatch someone to assist you in your dilemma. 

You pace back and forth, counting down the minutes until you will miss how Joel is about to get his fingers eaten by a primate, when suddenly, the I.R.U. arrives.  They get out of their vehicle, ask you to explain the situation, and then proceed to berate you mercilessly for your stupidity.  They may or  may not spit on your shoes or kick dust in your general direction (depends on the experience of the I.R.T. (Indecent Response Technician).  But before they leave, you can rest assured that they will have behaved in an entirely inappropriate and degrading way.  Their job has been completed thoroughly and effectively. 

The 5: Chimp Reality Shows

 

While at a wedding recently, someone (I honestly can’t remember who, or I’d give them credit. Lets just say it was me) came up with a great idea for a reality show: Secret Marriage. A minister could secretly marry two people, animals, inanimate objects, etc and then the audience could see what hijinks ensue after they find out. Sounds good, right? Maybe there is a future for me in the TV biz. 

So with this feather in my cap (don’t worry, I’ll give the other people who may have actually “thought up” this idea some small cut of royalties), I set about thinking of other ideas that would work.  One catch: I knew I had to somehow incorporate that one thing which makes every situation funny. Yes, I am speaking again of chimps. I have mentioned before how anything that chimps do is hilarious, and how this has been scientifically proven.  So with that in mind, I present the top 5 current reality shows that would benefit from spinning off into all chimp versions.

Oxygen Logic (or lack thereof)

I know James Harrison’s latest comments make an easy target. But I just can’t help myself.  In case you did not hear, the Pittsburgh Steelers Star had this to say about Obama inviting his team to the White House: “This is how I feel-if you want to see the Pittsburgh Steelers, invite us when we don’t win the Super Bowl. As far as I’m concerned, he would’ve invited Arizona if they’d won”.  

Mr. Harrison’s brilliance shines down upon the rest of us mere mortals.  It got me thinking: what else fits under the “as far as James Harrison is concerned” category. So without further ado:

As far as James Harrison is concerned:

if Obama had not won the election, McCain would’ve

if lunch were eaten later in the day, it would be called dinner

if you wore shoes on your hands instead of your feet, they’d be called gloves

if you wore gloves on your feet instead of your hands, they’d be called shoes

If you had feet where your hands are, they’d be called hands

Just Wrong

Yes, I am one of those annoying people that know all the lyrics to most songs.  and yes, my brain is full of “useless” facts about most bands. If there was a major in college for Rock Music and Pop Culture, I would have been all over it. Alas, the School of Rock did not exist yet. 

So some would call me an obsessive music fan. Some would call me “Mr. Nostalgia” (see last post). Yet some of you out there surely understand the feeling of embracing music as a part of you, and not just background music in elevator of life.  And it is for those of you that fit into this last category that I write today, for last night I witnessed and heard the complete and utter trashing of a classic song. 

The scene: a dance, complete with flashing lights, big screens, camera, and 2 DJ’s (sadly, no pyrotechnics, but maybe next year).  The typical modern fare was being blared from the speakers: Rhianna, Madonna, numerous rap songs complete with keyboard/chorus repeated ad nauseum.  I was watching the large screens as entertainment, when the songs weren’t my cup of tea.  Suddenly, an image appeared that was instantly familiar: it was Kurt Cobain’s face up close-the final scene from the “Smells Like Teen Spirit” video.  ”Hmm”, I thought to myself. “That is an interesting shot to throw into a loop of dance music/videos”.  But the thought stopped there, since I figured it was just a random 10 seconds in an endless montage of short attention span theater. 

Mr. Nostalgia

E

Viva Explosia!!

Recently, our Editor in Chief, “Mr. Rambling” to you (”me” to me), was dubbed “Mr. Nostalgic” by one our readers (at least we think she is a reader). Ok, one of our friends (at least we think she is a friend).  As we have commented on before, a plethora of our writing here tends to be focused on things from the past (and by past, we mean “80’s/90’s”). 

            Now, keep in mind that for some of the population, anything that is even remotely nostalgic must be wiped out, smote, and buried alive with a video camera inside the coffin, so the last panicked breaths can be witnessed (it’s been 4 years since I’ve seen an episode of CSI but it is clearly still with me). However, we don’t think nostalgia should be something that is feared.  It should be embraced, like a kitten you stole from your next door neighbor. But why are people afraid of/incapable of reminiscing? Some easy explanations:

A.  Their mind has been erased by a device similiar to what they use in Men in Black, whenever humans interact with aliens. 

B.  Their present is way better than their past

C.  Their future is way better than their past or present (but they won’t divulge their methods of knowing this)

D. They are not an elephant. 

Lyrics 101: Talking in Your Sleep

Class has been our for quite some time, but it is time to educate you once again on lyrics that require further examination.  Today’s subject is classic song “Talking in Your Sleep” by The Romantics.  This song features some baffling questions which we will attempt to answer.  

In the first verse, the singer informs the other person that “when you close your eyes and you go to sleep…I can hear the things that you’re dreaming about”.  Then he admits “You tell me that you want me, you tell me that you need me, you tell me that you love me, and I know that I’m right, cause I hear it in the night”.  He has a point, there, because everyone knows that whatever you hear at night has to be the truth.  As the wise man Adam Sandler once said, “The Night time is the right time”. 

The second verse is where things start to get a little confusing. He says “When I hold you in my arms at night…all the dreams that you keep inside, you’re telling me the secrets that you just can’t hide”.  This begs a couple of questions. First, if he is holding her, then is it really a surprise that she wants, needs, and loves him? One logical explanation is that they are roommates and she is narcoleptic, and when she falls asleep while standing up, he catches her, and then she starts talking. But a more alarming possibility is that they are mere acquaintances, and he sneaks into her house, holds her while she is sleeping, and acquires all of this personal information without her consent. Sounds like a parental advisory sticker should have been slapped on this album, for this disturbing content. 

Bad Advice

As I, Editor in Chief of Random Ramblings, was recently waiting for my public transit vessel to whisk me away into the city, I had two thoughts: 1. I wonder if it will smell of urine as it always does, and 2. Why is there a huge banner of Magic Johnson giving me advice? Turns out Earvin is partnered up with Aetna to form some sort of health information initiative. And the tidbit that was splayed across this banner? “Don’t be afraid to ask the doctor questions: no one ever died of embarrassment”. Well, Mr. Magic, I set out to prove you wrong. An extensive, special, and intense Random Ramblings exclusive investigation did not uncover any evidence of people dying from embarrassment, but one of our reliable “inside” sources (yahoo answers) did say that it is possible, if the person was so emabarassed that they had a heart attack. One person that replied asked the person who posted the question if they were planning on murdering someone by embarrassing them.  The reply was “not yet”.  I have contacted the appropriate authorities. 

So while there is no evidence to support my stance, I am sure that Magic Johnson is wrong. After considering how I had been lied to, yet again, by a living Basketball legend, I thought of all the other trite, cliched quotes I’ve heard in my lifetime that when examined, don’t quite hold up as true. Observe: 

The man who wins may have been counted out several times, but he didn’t hear the referee-H.E. Jansen

   While this may seem to be celebrating tenacity and the indomitable human spirit, it is actually endorsing ignoring the rules of the game you are playing.  I can testify that this does not work. When some people claim that they are playing hopscotch, but you decide that you are actually playing Randy “Macho Man Savage” vs. Ricky “The Dragon” Steamboat at Wrestlemania 3, then things get a little touchy. Geez, people. Can’t you be more flexible? Sports are meant to be fun. 

A small gift is better than a great promise-German Proverb

    This quote could be true, unless the great promise was a bigger gift than what you got. Then anything goes. 

Black Math

Forgive us for not having an entry last week. The musical timeline drained our resources, and our staff has spent the last 2 weeks replenishing our energy (ie-being busy with our actual jobs).  But much like Dokken in 1987, we are Back for the Attack, minus the embarrassing lyrics. 

Lately it has been our minds how we stumbled upon some of the bands we’ve listened to.  There are some bands that when you are first introduced to them, they fly over your head. You aren’t ready for them.  However, given the proper sequence of album purchases, years lived, and stars aligning, the next time you hear them you just might be able to hear their brilliance. We’re reminded of a quote from one of our favorite books, Hi Fidelity by Nick Hornby.  The protagonist, Rob, sorts his record collection, because, as he says, “I like being able to see how I got from Deep Purple to Howlin’ Wolf in twenty-five moves”.  

Now, neither one of those artists are in our musical library, but you get the point: each band you listen to is the result of a specific equation that has to worked out over time.  The sum of two artists is another artist.  If you try to move ahead of the equation, you are just wasting your time. In fact, you are risking spontaneous combustion. Don’t say we didn’t warn you. 

Here are the equations we have derived from our own personal listening experience. 

R.E.M. = everything

It is easy to thing that Nirvana changed our listening habits, but that is a bit of revisionist history.  The truth is that R.E.M. was the trip to the cliff; without it, we never would have jumped off. The exposure to “It’s the End of the World As We Know it (and I Feel Fine)” and the rest of Document was just enough to get our ears ready for what was the come in the fall of 1991.  That, of course, led to the avalanche. So allow us to give credit where credit is due. 

Nirvana+Sonic Youth= Pixies

So we, like the rest of adolescents in 1991/1992, listened to Nevermind constantly.  Sure, it’s still catchy, poppy, punky rock, but just enough of Kurt Cobain’s influences bled through to alter our ears a bit. When we heard “Chapel Hill” on a local college radio station, we soon after were grooving to the sounds of Sonic Youth’s Dirty, which was their answer to all the good music that they had inspired in the first place. This eventually (about 4-5 years later) led us to purchase our first Pixies album, Trompe Le Monde.  And if we are honest, we didn’t quite get it at first.  But we did like “Planet of Sound” and “Letter to Memphis”.  But it really took seeing “Fight Club” (see, movies can fit into these equations sometimes) to push us over the edge and finally understand why Francis Black and company were mentioned in almost every article about Nirvana. 

Pearl Jam+Nirvana=Smashing Pumpkins

So of course Smashing Pumpkins were next. Once we heard “Alive” and saw the high energy video, we were hooked. This of course led us to other bands of the Pacific Northwest, specifically Soundgarden.  Mix the tortured heart on sleeve lyricism of Eddie Vedder with the ominous guitars and wail of Chris Cornell and Soundgarden, and it prepared us for the full on obsession we had for The Smashing Pumpkins. It also helps that all of these bands have a healthy love of classic rock. Speaking of that…