Well I guess this is growing up

Today, we all are (apparently) Arcade Fire fans.

Please, don't confuse my snark for displeasure. Arcade Fire are a great band and deserve whatever accolades come their way. But somehow this feels less like a victory and more like watching something you love slip away.

For what feels like the past ten years, the Grammys have meant almost nothing to any serious music fan. And even less to casual music fans. Serious music fans are lucky if a handful of artists considered "good" win anything of merit (and it's always off-camera anyway). Mainstream fans already know what they like. A trophy changes no one's mind. I am sure the Academy Awards committee has a good laugh over the music industry's most important night of the year -- the one which manages to celebrate the most safe and mainstream manifestations of it's art form and still screw it up.

Think of all the iconic Grammy moments. Milli Vanilli. Alicia Keys winning a number of trophies far too large for her to carry. Elton John and Eminem. I list these disparate things with less than 100% certainty they didn't happen during MTV's Video Music Awards or some other music award show no one cares about for more than the day after it airs.

But last night one of us -- one of the good guys -- finally broke through, took down the Biebers and the Gagas and the Antebellums and changed the music world forever.

The thing is, Arcade Fire is pretty fucking popular. And I don't mean just with the cool kids. I mean, they won a Grammy, they must be popular. Kidding aside, they cracked your parent's subconscious by attaching "Wake Up" to Where the Wild Things Are (a film which I am sure falls into "the trailer is markedly better than the feature" category). Their songs were used in NFL broadcasts. Honestly, they are just a slower-developing, more critcally accepted Kings of Leon at this point. Now, with a trophy to show for it.

As fans of any degree of something labeled as "indie" (or counterculture or whatever tag you choose) will tell you, the day you watch your favorite things grow up and are co-opted by the masses is a sad, angry one. I bet this is how Watchmen fans felt. Or Nirvana fans. On the one hand, yay! Success for the thing you like! On the other, "these people don't like X like I do." But once things go from writing on the wall, to watching the acceptance speech, well it's tough to go back.

It can be done. I watched M.I.A. go from unheard of, to "Paper Planes" becoming every college girl's anthem, to obscurity again. "So, what do you guys think of MAYA? Oh, you remember M.I.A., right?" I'll stop the hypothetical there. Radiohead half did it, performing at the Grammys while still being awesome. But even they are in the Guitar Band video games, where a new generation can learn how mediocre Pablo Honey is via "Creep."

I don't love these artists any less than I did pre-breakthrough (well, a little). But they lose...something. An edge? A mystique? A feeling of intimacy? They won't mean as much to me as the bands I love who will (hopefully) never breakthrough (sorry, guys).

I've learned nearly all my Facebook friends are Arcade Fire fans today. Who knew? It's the most pretentious thing one can do -- decry something once loved after it becomes popular -- but I feel it happening. Arcade Fire just seems less special now that millions of people are listening to Funeral for the first time. The chances I hear "Ready to Start" or "Month of May" in some bar just went up by 1,000 percent.

I want to wish them well. To wish them all the best on whatever wonderful opportunities await them post-Grammy. But I can't. I won't wish them ill, but indifference. I'll buy (pirate) their next record and probably enjoy it. But I'll scratch them off the list of "bands to see before I die." I don't feel like fighting hundreds of thousands of people through Ticketmaster the day they go on sale, selling out Madison Square Garden.

Welcome to the mainstream.

Untamed Might

Since it's inception, there have been many Youtube all-stars. Players who exist for the 30-second highlight. Players who once would have been lost in obscurity even 15 years ago, now find themselves cult heroes.

Captain of the Youtube All-Stars as of 2010? Blake Griffin.



By now, most of you have seen the way he ruthlessly murdered a Russian. But how about poor DJ Mbenga? Jeff Green, Blake Griffin. Scouring Youtube, one would think Griffin has been playing for ten years -- there are just that many insane highlights. One more, full embed:


"It's an unbelievable dunk, but based on all the other dunks..." Yes, Griffin's dunks are compared to one another. In the same game.

The phrase "Griffin on the break" is enough to elicit euphoria from even the most mild-mannered announcers, in the most one-sided of contests. That was laughter you heard in the above clip. Some things are impossible to describe with words.

I found myself gasping at the prospect of Griffin throwing one down on a three-on-two the one time I've been able to watch the Clippers this season. Shawn Kemp, a young Amare (who himself realizes this kid is something), whoever Griffin is compared to, there is always one common thread: power. Unlike the next Jordan or Magic or Bird, Griffin is not compared to greatness, but to unbridled strength.

Griffin is what makes the NBA great. And it's more than the myriad highlight reels. It's his ability to astound multiple times on a nightly basis, to take your breath away at the idea of what might be. Football games have their high-octane violence, but rarely display feats of amazement outside of wide receiver catches (and those guys all wanted to play in the NBA anyway). Baseball has it's pastoral appeal and "no margin is big enough" tension, but nothing compared to even one alley-oop.

You can bet I circled March 19th -- the one game the Clippers visit the Celtics this season -- as a must go-to game. Because while he will live forever in Youtube highlights, it is almost certain that those who see Blake Griffin in person will not soon forget it.

I am reminded of Kanye West: No one man should have all that power.

Also, he's a motherfucking monster.

Indie rock :: The NBA as Peanut butter :: Chocolate

In his latest column Bill Simmons wrote the following: "When you watch Miami, it's like watching a White Stripes concert -- tons of talent, great music, but still just a little bit gimmicky because it's only two people."

First off: fuck you. The White Stripes are not a gimmick and will go down as one of the best bands of the 2000s and are certainly seminal for almost everyone my age. Second of all: fuck you for not going further.

If we are to believe the Heat are the White Stripes (which is wrong anyway, because see one Bosh, Chris), then who are the Lakers? Celtics? Thunder? Hornets?

LA Lakers = Animal Collective

Simply the best. Anyone who argues otherwise is a fool. They both have ruled the 2000s and remain stronger than ever, often with different iterations as the years wore on.

For reference:
Kobe = Panda Bear - Unquestioned leader/most talented. Capable of going solo to great success, but achieving true transcendence as a part of something greater.
Artest = Geologist - Willing to do the dirty work. The eccentric.
Pau = Avery Tare - Is the actual alpha while ceding the spotlight to Kobe/Panda Bear.
Odom = Deakin - Unrealiable, but when he's on, they go to another level.

Boston Celtics = New Pornographers

While individual members from both found success apart, together they embody the term superteam/supergroup. Able to supplant egos and personalities for the greater good. Rondo is obviously Neko Case, while KG is Dan Bejar, and Pierce is A.C. Newman.

OKC Thunder = Sleigh Bells

Led by/composed of two uber-talented stars (KD as vocalist Alexis Krauss and Westbrook as everything else-ist Derek Miller), also may be a victim of too much hype. Frenetic, up-tempo, and fun to watch. Still much to prove.

Utah Jazz = Vampire Weekend

Safe, white, rooted in traditions that came before them, and sneaky great. Both have very annoying fans.

New Orleans Hornets = Kanye West

A sublime talent supported by a revolving door of guests. Both West and Paul should be considered all-time greats by those who don't and both still have more bullet points to add to the resume.

San Antonio Spurs = Spoon

Sustained, subtle greatness. Every year it seems they remind everyone how rock-soild they are, only to fade in the background amidst our lust for the new. Eventually we will look back and realize how defining they were.

Miami Heat = Arcade Fire

Each have two all-timers (Funeral as Lebron, Neon Bible as Wade) and one question mark (Bosh and Suburbs), along with not much else. When they are on, there is absolutely no one better. Not nearly as deep as most contemporaries and historically, may be destined to fall short.

Magic: The Neverending

I grew up on games. I think our entire generation did, whether it was Monopoly or Risk or Pong. Even things like Hide-and-Seek, Tag, or, my personal favorite run-around-kids-game, Ghost in the Graveyard are simple games that teach kids rules, social interaction, and (some level of) critical thinking.

As we grow older, games fade in the background and work rears it's ugly head. “Play” becomes “try to get a girlfriend” or “go to a party” or “*insert whatever teens do*”. But for us – the gamers of the world – games never go away.

And as we move toward the end of 2010, video games are quickly becoming exponentially more mainstream. They're featured in movies, referenced in TV shows, promoted by celebrities and have generally moved from “niche” to “insanely popular.” They generate billions of dollars, create ad revenue, and shatter entertainment records. They have their own television channel, countless web sites devoted to them, and have spawned a retail giant. Games are a big fucking deal.

I, of course, am a gamer. So are all my friends. But as we inch toward (shudder) thirty years old, some of us find it harder and harder to game. This past year I found it very difficult to game. But not because of awesome things like a new family or an exciting career, but because someone took that option away from me.

I had my current-generation gaming consoles stolen.

Now, that fact in and of itself is not a huge deal. After all, my games were not taken and a Wii/360 costs, what, $300 to replace? Suck it up and get back to it! But about a thousand other factors factored in to my decision to not replace (as of writing) my consoles. Money was one (I'm poor). Losing my first writing job was another (that sucked). Moving to a new city was yet another (rent, poor, etc.).

But the biggest one was a reappearance of an old, old friend. Magic: The Gathering.

See, now you see how much of a true gamer I am. Anyone can play Wii Sports of Call of Duty. It's now completely socially acceptable. Even a legendary game like Dungeons and Dragons has some allure to it. At least my parents have some vague idea of what it is and maybe even tried it once. But those of us who play MTG? Let me tell you, there is still the good old stigmas – the sideways looks, the stereotypes – that once existed with video gaming.

Just before I moved to Providence, RI, I was getting “the itch” as people who play the most popular and successful collectible card game ever call it. “When was your break?” is a common conversation topic between MTG players. You never really quit the game, you just take a vacation.

A little history regarding my MTG experience. I have been playing since about 1998. I am 24 years old and the year is 2010. So I have been playing the game roughly half my life. That is insane. I remember playing in grade school during lunch and indoor recess or even after/before school. I had a friend who played so much he won $1,000 scholarship and the local newspaper wrote an article about him, calling the game “a mix between Poker and Chess.” One of my earliest jobs (and, truth be told, most rad) was at a baseball card store – which I got solely on my near-encyclopedic knowledge of Magic cards. In short: Magic was a huge part of my development as a person, not just a gamer.

But back to playing it. I had found a place that held events near my new apartment and decided to check it out. In the blink of an eye I was back. Chatting with people about how long I had been playing or arguing about strategic decisions. Even my background working at a similar shop. A great thing about the game is you always have something to talk about with someone who plays it. Unlike music (or even video games, there are so many), taste is not really a factor when it comes to MTG conversations. You can just as easily give a ten-year-old kid a tip on what cards he should put in his angel deck as you can argue with someone about pick orders in M11 draft. I've never had such easy and interesting conversations with complete strangers as I have when talking MTG.

It wouldn't be hyperbole to say nearly every person I've met since I've lived in Rhode Island has been because of Magic. Go to enough of the same places, and you get to know people. Hell, you even get that thing where people go from “Magic friend” to “real friend.” It's the best part about the game – the social aspect. Sure, you can play Xbox Live and “meet” people, but it isn't the same as matching wits across the table, shaking hands after, swapping bad beat stories, talking about the latest set's rumors, or pulling out your trade binder. The face-to-face, sportsman aspect is a huge part of what makes MTG great. I love competition – and don't get me wrong, Halo can be (and was) very competitive – and I think it is something that most gamers can relate to. But the perfect balance of decision-making, preparation, and a little luck, MTG has makes for an intoxicating mix.

But beyond that, the ritual of going to your local card shop every week for a tournament or after work to pick up some packs or singles or playing with some friends at some 24-hour restaurant – it's these things that keep people hooked for decades.

I can happily say I'm firmly entrenched in Magic again. I consume articles the way I did video game blogs. I think about the game constantly at work. I look forward to tournaments and release events. Cards are (much to the lady's chagrin) strewn about my apartment. I even dabble in writing about the game. And I love it.

Magic has filled the void left by having little to no video games. And it's not for lack of trying. I still have my DS but rarely play it. I find Magic just an overall more fulfilling and pleasing hobby. There will always be a place in my heart for video games and, if they're anything like Magic is, I will find my way back to them someday soon.

But for now, I am happy slinging spells with some great people. Long live tapping the cardboard.

The blog... MUST CONTINUE!

I give you, Hot Drinks:

The basement must live!

As Grish said, we can't let this blog die. Unfortunately, all I do these days is work, go to the gym, and try not to spend money. This makes it really difficult to write anything of substance. Plus, DC is a city that is difficult not to spend money in.

For some entertainment I pose this question:

What movies have you seen this past month and what'd you think?

I did drop $10 and go see Surrogates cause it seemed somewhat interesting. It was in fact somewhat interesting, but they took the action movie route way too soon instead of letting the ethical debate flow. Killed pretty much any emotional connection to characters or potential connection. That was a bit of a bummer, but not bad if you go to rent it.

Not dead yet

[I refuse to let this blog die. Not on my watch. Possible spoilers, definite formatting laziness ahead]

As far as pop culture is concerned, I think I owe the horror genre a lot of credit in sculpting my personality. I have a dark sense of humor, the seeds of which were cultivated by Freddy Kreuger one-liners. I find violence and gore more entertaining than disgusting, in no small part due to Evil Dead’s Ash and the elaborate kills of one Jason Vorhees. My teenage brain was fostered on games like Doom and Halo – blessed amalgamations of the horror, sci-fi, and action genres.

Thus, it’s broken my heart that there has been this dearth of quality horror films in the mainstream over the last decade or so. I am young enough to have no moment I can point to when I was actually frightened seeing a film in theatres. I’ve had to traverse the world for films like Audition, Man Bites Dog, and Oldboy to find my thrills. In US theatres, The Descent and (don’t laugh) Cabin Fever were probably the closest I’ve come to thinking “damn, that was scary.”

That streak has now ended. It’s unbelievable that if you are reading this you have not at least heard of Paranormal Activity. The hype surrounding it has reached Blair Witchian (or, for a non-genre comparison, Snakes on a Planeian) proportions, becoming drive-a-few-hours appointment viewing for anyone with even the slightest bit of pop culture curiosity.

If you are the one among your group of friends who has no idea what I am talking about, the set-up is simple. Guy sets up camera in bedroom to catch what his girlfriend claims is a haunting. Activities of the paranormal variety ensue. That’s it. Just like Blair Witch’s “people run around in woods, horror ensues” tagline, there isn’t a whole lot of complication here. But it’s this “it could happen to you” feeling that makes both films effective.

And is Activity ever effective. As the day/night cycle continues (camera timestamp and all), the audience’s feeling of dread grows. What starts off as doors creaking and objects moving inexplicably, turns into disturbing sleepwalking and, later, let’s call them “physical actions.” By the sixth or seventh night you are really on edge, expecting anything and everything, or possibly nothing. By the last clip of footage you’re really just ready for it to be over, unable to handle much more escalation.

It’s really this slow build that makes Activity shine. Much like Audition (and really, all good horror), it lulls you to sleep somewhat, leaving you to question whether anything will ever happen. But you know it will. Just when and what becomes the tension.

The film is far from perfect though. There are shifts in tone that take away from the terror on screen. Boyfriend Micah jokes far too much (his lines, far too clever to be unscripted), eliciting too many laughs from the audience. The very end of the film also falls into one of the worst trappings of the real-but-not-real horror films – the “they were never found” cop-out. By now most people know Activity is the work of some very enterprising filmmakers, not some unearthed documentary footage of a real haunting, so save the Unsolved Mysteries ending. No one’s buying.

But really, one cannot put a price on what Activity delivers on – genuine scares. I would label what happens more disturbing, unsettling, tense than terrifying, but for a modern horror movie, one cannot ask for much more.

I am not going to tell you to believe the hype. I am telling you to discard it. Forget the “scariest movie ever” or “the new Exorcist” talk. Just know that if you see Paranormal Activity you will not forget it. You will talk about it with those you saw it with. You will be compelled to pick the box up when it comes out on DVD, just to see what the film is like in your darkened apartment, as opposed to a crowded theatre.

And yes, there are a handful of moments you will be genuinely scared. You may even jump once or twice. And you will definitely get goose bumps with some regularity. Yes, Paranormal Activity has reached this jaded, desensitized horror fan’s heart.

I can’t imagine what it was like for normal people.