Websites for Wednesday: Special Awareness Ed.

Websites for 
Wednesday
Special Awareness Edition: if you thought
you were cancer-aware before, you've
got another thing coming.

	The U.S. Department of Health and Human Services lists the whole calendar for ya.

	ACS: perhaps the most obvious choice for potential donors.

   

If you want to donate to prevention of breast cancer causes, check out:

• the Breast Cancer Fund [link], which addresses environmental causes of breast cancer, or
• the Breast Cancer Prevention Fund which works in prevention through education and good health practices [link].

   

 

How to Quell Your Political Worries

The bizarre election season is almost over, and since you already know what you think of Obama-Biden-McCain-Palin, allow me to divert you to a more pressing decision that is hanging in the balance: the Xanga elections, 2008. As you know, theblackspiderman has started an election for President and Vice-President of Xanga. This, I think, was a ridiculous idea of his, and so I recommend that you do not vote for theblackspiderman or his running-mate. "But for whom," you ask wildly, "should I vote, Gabe? I just don't know!"

Well, I can tell you who I think should be Vice President.

Unlike Hillary, she's not like a grumpy Martha Stewart on downers, looking like a mean grandma on a binge of sawdust crackers and timeouts... and she's actually still a candidate. And unlike Sarah Palin, she won't creep you out with weird views about guns and family structure and aerating the tundra caribou with oil drilling equipment, or any of that stuff. She is one of the most enjoyably amiable bloggers on this, our uniquely social writing platform of Xanga. Her name is Raquel [link], and she'd make a great Veep.

Let me count the ways.

Shrewdness and Resourcefulness. Well, as a finalist in the only ever Xanga beauty pageant, it goes without saying that Quell is pretty good looking. For the pageant, she had to line up a bunch of pictures to convince us she had good style and fashion sense. But did you know she spent over $10 on her wardrobe? Scandal! She actually couldn't keep it under ten at the thrift where she recycles others' discarded, tired items, reviving them into haute, hip fashion for a fraction of the price most pay for coolness. She takes a FULL 5 MINUTES to get ready in the morning. She achieves her Xanga vanity, and accompanying fame, with hardly any effort or expenditure because she likes the challenge of being clever with the resources she is given. Definitely a good trait for a Vice President of Xanga, who will never know what will be thrown at her next.

Ah, the Wit! The Eloquence! It was no mistake that Quell had a big blog following; she's a good writer, and is both intelligent and expressive, writing with wit and feeling. During the aforesaid Xangamerica competition, she handled her candidacy with grace and modesty, and aside from looking great without showing inordinant amounts of skin, she wrote a great speech that discarded all pretentiousness in favor of straightforward, sunny encouragement to get more out of life. Raquel is interested in promoting low-drama blogging, and the general enjoyment of all things quirky and cute and clever. What's not to like about that?

Intellectual Competence. This is no tissue-toting emotional girlie-blogger overwhelmed by her feelings and underwhelming her audience with bad spelling and hacked analogies. Quell is a thinking person's communicator, and encourages lively, intelligent banter whether sincerely constructive or cynically refreshing. She usually knows the dictionary definition of every word Drakonskyr writes, "if not always," she admits, "what they all mean together." Maybe that's why Drakonskyr is voting for Quell for VP.

Rumored Deity. While there have been rumors of her having come down from Mount Olympus, we must admit that though flattering, those things are not true. She actually came from the Amazons, not the mountains in Brazil, but the actual big, hot girls that can kick your ass and take names. But seriously, with much virtue, Quell has handled many dramatic situations on Xanga cooly and with tact.

Creative and Individualistic. She dresses herself at Goodwill and does her own hair and she still looks sharper than the rest of us. She plans to name her children Pierce, Bysshe, and Ozzie. Ozzie Mandius. And no one can argue she doesn't have her own distinct style. That's exactly what our c'ampaigne is about. Not just our individuality, but yours too. We're happy that each blogger on Xanga is different and won't be shoved in a box. That should not change.

Enthusiastic Versatility. Seriously, this girl is an overachiever. This includes art, fashion, literary pursuits, desk work, photography, design, and handstands. On bubble wrap.

No Compromise. She reads Godel, Escher, Bach. And when she reads, she doesn't take shortcuts or try to use tricks to make it go faster. She reads the whole thiing, the unabridged versions of works such as Les Miserables. not to mention War and Peace and the Encyclopaedia Brittanica, and even my blog entries. Chances are, if she reads that much, she's in favor of good writing, including ...yep ...yours.

Minority Sensitive. Quell isn't plain white or black, she's Brazilian, and brings a lot to the table culturally. At the very least, Xanga-Brazil relations will be fantastic, which is important because Brazil is currently a great threat, especially to our resident "'hot' bloggers." There could be nothing better than to unite the hotness of Brazil (and YOUR country) with Xanga.

Not Fake. Quell will never, ever, ever lie to the Xangian people and wear falsies.But again, she's not going to posture or pretend to anything she isn't, and believes neither should you. She isn't running around screaming "look at me" except occasionally, in order to get you to look at yourself. "You find those things and people," she instructs, "that fulfill you, and you stick to those. My advice to you is 'as soon as possible.'"

Aesthetically Savvy. On this ticket you can vote for two graphic designers, who collectively have a good look. Xanga will never have been more aesthetically pleasing than with elgaberino and CallMeQuell at the helm.

There are a lot of choices you have to make this election cycle, and there may be many political parties and conventions, but there is only one political celebration, and that's why it's named after champagne. Quell and I have been talking about it, and this is so much fun, we've decided we'd really like to have you on board. So are you with us? Should Xanga be about thoughtful, high quality blogging and in a social setting? Or should it just devolve into another MySpace or Facebook in a flurry of modules and mindlessness? We think it should be the former, and we're enjoying doing what we can to keep the quality high and the interactions fun. So if you agree...

... in these respects and many others,
Raquel is definitely the best choice
to represent you and what you love
about Xanga. So you're invited
to join the celebration
of what (besides Quell) makes Xanga great:
you.

Welcome to the
Elgaberino-CallMeQuell
C'ampaigne
for
President/VP of Xanga, 2008.
We're glad to have your vote on November 3!

Currently Listening Missiles By The Dears "Money Babies" on Lala.com see related

Tunes for Tuesday: the Unique and Ubiquitous, Week Three

NOTE - By Popular Demand:

• a Lala.com link
• a streaming video or audio file
• a free mp3, or
  
• a link to a site where songs may be streamed (e.g., MySpace)

Look for a play button like this: 

	Intimacy | 60% |

Intimacy, by Bloc Party
Review requested by Hathaway_Lane ••• C'mon, Kele. Did you read the reviews? Did you note the decline in hype? Silent Alarm ...good! A Weekend in the City ...bad! That should have been a signal to you, that the sparse, syncopated drums, disco punk chunky riffs and yelping vocals are what work for you. Layered stereo tricks, symphonic rock, and your terrible crooning Chris Martin impressions are not becoming on you. What made you think that this new album wasn't a pass-or-fail test? How many hints did the prof give you all last week, that this release date was going to affect your passing grade? You looked like you were going to ace the college of rock with flying colors, back in the Alarm days. But you really biffed that sophomore scene. Seriously, we all know sophomores are a bunch of arrogant fools. That's what "sophomore" means: philosopher moron. So we can give you a pass for that awful disc. But opening the new album with two tracks that could have been tracks twelve and thirteen on your last effort, well that was stupid. You're most of the way through school now, and you need to get your stuff together if you want to be a real, lasting rock band. I will thank you for "Halo," because that sounds like the old you a bit, and "Signs," because that's almost charming. But I really can't decide if it helps me forgive the awfulness of "Mercury," the wheedling mewling of patheti-ballad "Biko," and the arguably failed attempt at TVOTR meets LOTR in "Zephyr." The tracks like "One Month Off" that attempt to recapture some of the old 2005 form tend to sound too big and impatient, too full and bloated, overflowing with sound and short on that dry, articulate vim that characterized Silent Alarm's hits. I know Intimacy is supposed to be a breakup album, but I feel a little bit like interjecting "if you're going to break up with me, I ain't going to let you. I'm dumping you first." Here's another awkward analogy: no matter how awesome that model skeleton in the corner of the science lab looks, by implying the human form, it will never look more awesome by pinning slabs of meat to it, by way of attempting to flesh it out. But that is, in a sense, what Bloc Party is trying to do. They took their sound, which had an unaccountable life of its own, and made it feel dead by trying to make it more alive. I have been digging through my memory, to decide whether Intimacy would have made me feel the same way that Silent Alarm did back when I fell in love with them in 2005. And the answer is no. I would not have put these songs on my playlists, nor would I have been interested in this band, had this been the album to which I was exposed, in place of Alarm. So even though this is a pastiche of the two sounds we've heard from Bloc Party, it's less of the former and more of the latter, and I find no reason to listen to this again any more than I did A Weekend in the City. Mr. Okereke, guys, better luck next time; I'm barely giving you a pass on this as is.

	Red, Yellow & Blue | 82% |

Red, Yellow & Blue, by Born Ruffians
So imagine a clash between two premiere Carolina scene indie bands, Annuals and Avett Brothers. The familial references alone would be enough to overwhelm. But all gimmicks aside, the two alphabetically prominent acts in coming together might just produce a sound like the one presented by Born Ruffians in their debut LP, Red Yellow Blue. The careless, percussive vocals and staccato guitar riffing are carried out with an unassuming air that recalls an underground ska act from the mid-90's, so Ted Leo and the Pharmacists also come to mind. But this is not ska at all, but bright shiny indie pop, complete with the obligatory call-and-response shouted vocals and hand-claps. But beneath the simplistic surface is a sophisticated system of choreographed sounds that enter from opposite stage wings and interweave their dances intricately if plainly, creating a winningly down-to-earth but rewardingly complex listening experience. Chamber touches, such as the reverb and piano of tom-tom driven swinger "I Need A Life," complete with it's vaguely native-American howling at the end, add depth to the charm. Meanwhile simple pleasures abound, such as the nearly a capella intro to "Little Garçon" in which he sings "I don't mind where you go / as long as it's with me / I don't mind what you do / as long as it's with me, too" to ooh-ing and aah-ing of a layered vocal chorus. All in all, Red Yellow Blue, the artistic offering, is a little odd and has a familiar flavor, but isn't just like anything but its own delightful self.

	Real Emotional Trash | 80% |

Real Emotional Trash, by Steven Malkmus & The Jicks
Anyone familiar with Malkmus' background with Pavement, but not his solo career, will be perhaps shocked (or in my case pleasantly surprised) by the Black Sabbath/Black Keys style of guitar sludge that lies in layers introducing the first track of Real Emotional Trash. Malkmus' axe wails its way through several of the songs this way, without detracting from his unaffected, down-to-earth tenor vocal style. To be sure, it's a different feel and for the uninitiated it will take some getting used to, but the quirky sound combination makes the right forum for his odd lyrical accounts. It doesn't hurt that Malkmus also has a wonderful way with unconventional song structure. If Weezer's Rivers Cuomo were to take an interest in proto-metal, at the same time rehearsing his tribute to early beat poetry, he'd probably find himself in the same vein as this album. Real Emotional Trash definitely has that stoner-rock feel explored before by more obscure bands like Sunless Day, with hints of Dinosaur Jr. Malkmus really didn't win me over at first, in part because the vocals are so awkward at times, which was easier to enjoy in the Pavement setting than in this. Despite my skepticism, this album looped in my car stereo for a week, and I couldn't make myself change to anything else for several days. It just kept growing on me, so inevitably that I looked for flaws in it, hoping to realize—to convince myself—that I really hated it. But I don't. You probably won't either.

Currently Listening Conor Oberst By Conor Oberst "Milk Thistle" (on lala.com) see related

Websites for the Weekend: If You Don't Already...

	Now you can listen to the albums I review. I'll post links.

	This piece, "Unpaid Internship," was the October 3, 2008, entry on Drew's Toothpaste for Dinner webcomic. [link].

Toothpaste for Dinner
(Please Tell Me You Already Know About this Webcomic)
I am not going to say a lot about this because (a) I have no time to blog about anything, much less the self-explanatory, (b) this site is awesome on its own and needs no introduction, and (c) you probably already know about this site. If not, congratulations, one of the cool kids finally let you in on the site from which all those badly drawn, backhandedly clever comics all over the internet have their origin.

Currently Listening Skeletal Lamping (Dig) By Of Montreal "Nonpareil of Favor" see related

Tunes for Tuesday: the Unique and Ubiquitous, Week 2

	Dig Out Your Soul | 60%

Dig Out Your Soul, by Oasis
Oasis fans, let's come right out and say how we feel. "Hi, my name's Gabe, and I'm an Oasis fan. I liked What's the Story (Morning Glory) and I try really hard to like their other albums." *scattered claps* Each successive album, in my humble opinion, has further cemented the fact that Oasis has no idea how to revisit the charm and success of that big wonderful, every-song-awesome album. My ratings for their other albums (despite the occasional stand-alone single) would all fall between 50 and 60. Secretly we know they're not as good as they were on What's the Story. But even more secretly, we like Oasis. We like their dopey fixation with the Beatles, we like their odd names, we like the Gallagher sibling rivalries and temper-tantrums and combed-forward sideburns. We like it when Noel whines and shines. We like that same sort of melody they write over and over and over and... we like them. Well, I have good news. Oasis has finally stopped trying to remake What's the Story. This new album is actually better than all those other forgettable discs they've released since then. This album is not full of unforgettably singable melodies. But this album, Dig Out Your Soul, really rocks. This is a disc I would like to see them play live, and I can't say that of any of their other albums except, well you know. Instead of trying to be poignant and atmospheric and cute, Noel has strung together a tracklist that doesn't often feel lyrically contrived, which even melodically doesn't prove predictable. Instead of drama, they've introduced swagger, in heavy doses. The guitars don't preen and fuzz, they chug along like a big portenious steam engine of rock that always allows those trademark raspy nasal vocals to come in sounding startlingly sweet. Don't mistake my meaning; this is still the same old band. They haven't revolutionized and rewritten the whole format. But they have rejuvenated it by doing it differently. I found my inner shoegazer, drone metal head and Black Sabbath fan come out listening to some of the guitar work, and other orchestral or synthesized motions definitely reaffirmed Oasis' standing in the Fab Four psychedelic melodic pop side of Brit Pop, grouping them with the more quirky Blur and further distancing them from Thom Yorke and Richard Ashcroft. Some songs are going to remind you of "Hello" and "Roll With It," and other distinctly Oasis bits, but some will prove to have their own personality and atmosphere, which isn't mind-blowing, but for Oasis fans it's refreshing. I agree with Paste magazine's review, that there is a continuous buzz to this work, a humming line of amp drone running through this. But that's what we like about Oasis isn't it? Those delicious, dragging riffs and that plaintive British whine? No, Dig Out Your Soul is neither earth-shattering nor definitive, but it proves that contrary to all prior indications, Oasis has not lost their ability to rock. And that's a relief.

	Rising Down | 81%

Rising Down, by The Roots
This economy could kill many a little business undertaking. The investment of money and effort by Jane or Joe America is so often undermined by the bottom line and red line of bigger movers and shakers, so often regulated out of existence by dirty old Uncle Sam, that a notion grows that America is just a dream, and happiness really only something to pursue, prospering never, always wondering whether we really are as rich as we're so sure we are. In the wake of the biggest big-government big-business bailout in star-spangled memory, it's easy for us to feel the Steinbeckian bank as the distant owner of our souls and destinies, as though his dry dust is really settling on our hardships and hopes alike, undiscriminating except to affirm the corporate will, the inexorable corporate will. 2008 finds many Americans, like the lonesome farmers of Grapes of Wrath, kicked out of homes by the bank that forcloses our landlords and hands down the will of the economy to us in three-folded, enveloped decrees, matter-of-fact and unquestionable. Tough times, however always produce the best music, and while times haven't gotten anywhere near that tough, the Roots are ready to do their duty to the failing economy. Their disc was released months before the market began to dive, but appropriately the opening track introduces a 1994 voice-recording of the band disputing music ownership and payment issues in raised voices, the first song and title track is a literate juggernaut of well-spat economic and social commentary, "Grapes of Wrath in a shapely cup," including a seemly flow by the always welcome Mos Def. The tracks that follow bring their typical east coast underground doom and grit, full of organic drum beats and low-fi versus hi-fi production techniques. At times they hit an irrestistibly catchy groove, perhaps best expressed in Wale and Chrisette Michele's guest track, the antithetical Rising Up. True to form, their riffs are as catchy as their rhymes, and the their commentary rife with literary and historical references. The theme of the album revels in the dark bogeymen of race difference and economic hardship, including the cultural divides between blacks and whites, black racial issues, music business troubles, a wistful look at the good times of yesterday and the uncertainty of the future. Some people seem to think the Roots decline by nearly imperceptible degrees with each disc. I am not finding this to be true, and while I am not singing along like I was with some prior tracks like "Here I Come," I am not enjoying this any less than their last superb effort. It's more of the same good, original stuff from some of the tightest minds in the underground.

	Forth | 74%

Forth, by The Verve
Led Zeppelin wasn't the only band that named their albums by the order in which they were released, and in particular, there are a lot of bands that have named their fourth album after it's place in the succession. Cases in point, aside from Zep's IV include Foreigner's 4 in 1981, Danzig's 4 and Blues Traveler's Four in 1994, and recently IV by The Chromatics, last year. (That album was a 75% in my book and worth a listen, if you haven't spun it yet. The cover art [link] was inspired by antisoccermom's profile picture. Go tell her she should keep the red hair.)  So the verve could have gone with notable understatement and named their highly anticipated fourth album just Four, or Fourth. But Ashcroft and company knew just as much as we did what a big deal it is that after more than a decade, and several critically successful solo albums by Ashcroft, a great 90's band has decided to return to form. They were already legend before and after their first breakup, but the across the board success of the single "Bittersweet Symphony," as well as its incredibly controversial exile from creative profitablitity by a court decision awarding the Rolling Stones rights to its catchy riff, made the Verve a legend. For the record, I can't imagine what this court was thinking. It definitely does NOT sound like "The Last Time," the Stones song it supposedly sampled from, and it makes no sense to give creative royalties and songwriting credits to Jagger and Richards, who quite simply didn't write it. Ahem. Anyway, The Verve are back, and their cleverly titled Forth proves that they are moving forward both as the same old band and as a new creative entity that still has tricks up its sleeve. My initial impression was that perhaps the V was trying to usher their way back into marketablility by mimicking contemporaries Radiohead. The ambience of the first track or two does not sound like a classically sentimental Verve number such as "Sing," or "Sonnet." But the melodic, harmonic nature of the music conquers the moodiness soon after, and an old band seems to stretch new wings and try out new things with each track. Forth is exactly what its title sounds like. It's their fourth album, after so much waiting, and thank goodness it's not a disappointment; they're going ahead into the future with as resolute charm and chutspah as ever. Let's hope there's no more band breakups or lawsuits in the near future.