Day 9 - A Song I Can Dance To

I am putting this song on because it is a newly-discovered song and it is incredibly dance-able while also being funny, creative, and a surprisingly good pop song. That song is "(Rockin') All Nite Long" by the folks at Bad Lip Reading. They took a Taylor Swift song that I have never heard, watched the video, figured out other lyrics she could have been singing by watching her lips, and then wrote an entire new song about it. And then added a rap by doing the same thing to a Wiz Khalifa song. And the funny thing is? It's actually a really well-crafted pop song and you can dance to it to boot. So yeah. I was surprised too, but really, you have to check it out. (And then find Gang Fight on YouTube by the same folks.)

Here it is. Marvel at its majesty.

Great Moments In Spam History, Part 1

I don't get a lot of e-mail spam, and normally I just delete them without reading. But for some reason, I looked at one tonight and I was compelled me to share it with other people.

"Your woman will be shocked by your fang's astonishing progress."

First of all, that is just a great sentence. Second of all, "fang"? Really? I know there are a lot of euphamisms for that part of the male anatomy, but "fang" gives it an edge that I'm not entirely comfortable with. Anyhow: just needed to share. Now I'm off to have nightmares about teeth growing in inappropriate places.

Pop Quiz

When one's significant other mentions in a casual moment of conversation that he or she is thinking of becoming a vegetarian, do you:
a) stare shocked into his or her face and say nothing for a long time?
b) nod your head understandingly and begin a sensible dialogue?
c) become bombarded by images of dozens of your favourite meat-based meals flash through your head?
d) become filled with remorse that you realize that you may never have any of those delicious meals again?
e) a, c, and d?

If you answered anything except e), you are a better person than I am.

Occupational Hazard

My first official job as a Speech Pathologist has been going pretty well; I'm part of a good, supportive team and I really like the kids I'm working with. Most of my job involves planning and delivering treatment directly to the kids in the class, but every Wednesday I have meetings and check-ins with family members. Today I met a few mothers in a book-learning workshop that a colleague was running, and the conversation started running, as it invariably does, to their other children. I'm usually fine with this, as I think part of being a parent (particularly of a special needs child) is venting about their kids, so I nodded and smiled along with them, not having much to contribute myself, since The Peach and I have no kids. One of the mothers turned to me, and said, "What are your kids like?" That sometimes happens: people assume, since I'm at the end of my 20s, married, and involved with education and children's development, that I have kids of my own. So I tried to pull out a stumper for an answer.

"They're quiet," I said.

Secret Messages From The Picture Box

Sometimes while I'm flipping through the channels on my television, snippets of dialogue from different stations merge together to create odd, quirky sentences. A few days ago I was flipping down through the channels, and I heard the following message:

BBC News: Just beat-
Food Network: -a juicy steak-
Nancy Grace: -for several hours.

I know you need to tenderize your meat, but that seems like a long time.

Obit: George Carlin

George Carlin died yesterday. He was one of my favourite comedians, and I will be listening to a lot of his albums today. He was funny, crass, and brilliant, and even though his later work left a little bit to be desired, his early stuff is justifiably well-loved and well-respected. If you liked George Carlin, then here's a link to one of my favourite bits. If you don't, well, there's not a whole lot I can say to convince you otherwise. Except: how can you not like Mister Conductor?




George Carlin: 1937-2008

A Conversation With The Peach 5

(After we'd spent the afternoon of Mother's Day hanging out with my parents.)

Me: What were you smirking at earlier?
Peach: When your parents were bickering earlier.
Me: Right.
Peach: Your mom told your dad to take out the garbage, and he gave him a smart-ass comment, and then she gave him "The Look".
Me: Oh yeah?
Peach: I thought it looked funny.
Me: How do you know what "The Look" even looks like when you're never the one on the recieving end?


And then I got "The Look".

A Conversation With The Peach 4

During a phone call earlier this afternoon:

Me: By the way, the guys are trying to organize a big group going to see Iron Man tomorrow night. I know I said we had plans, though.
Peach: So? You should go!
Me: You sure?
Peach: Yes!
Me: Okay, I just thought I should check and see what you thought. Not that I was asking permission, just getting your input.
Peach: Right.
Me: I don't have to ask permission, right?
Peach: Whatever helps you sleep at night.


For what it's worth, I sleep like a baby.

The 50 Greatest Sketches (Plus Ten More)

Last week, the brainy hedonists at Nerve teamed up with the film fanatics at IFC to co-present their list of the 50 Greatest Comedy Sketches of All Time. All lists like this suffer from the same kinds of problems: overrepresentation of a certain groups or styles, people complaining that they're too mainstream or not mainstream enough, token inclusions, and so on. And while this list isn't flawless, they overcome a lot of potential problems by including sketches from the Golden Age of Television & radio through to the 2000s, and from Canada, the U.S., and the U.K. (obviously they're the 50 greatest English-language sketches). Nearly all of them are brilliant, some of them I'd never seen before, and yes, the sketch you were hoping/fearing would be number one is. And here in the second intermission of the Habs game (GO HABS GO!), I've decided to make a list of my own. Most of them don't have video links, but some do. Just consider these my own addendum to the list, from a guy who likes to think he knows a little about sketch comedy.

The Doc's Top 10 Comedy Sketches NOT on Nerve's/IFC's List:
1. "The Audition", Mr. Show, 1998. This sketch takes absurd to new levels of absurdity. (Video link.)
2. "The Funniest Joke in the World", Monty Python, 1969. My favourite Python sketch of all time. (Text link.)
3. "Shakespearean Baseball Game", Wayne & Shuster, 1958. Wayne and Shuster were completely shut out of the Nerve/IFC list, which is kind of understandable but I've always loved these two guys, and this is one of their most well-known bits. (Link to text & video.)
4. "Adultery", Mike Nichols & Elaine May, 1960. I've already talked about Nichols & May on the blog before, but it bears repeating: these guys were brilliant. (From An Evening With Mike Nichols and Elaine May.)
5. "Scrapbook", The Upright Citizens Brigade, 1999. Initially a fairly pedestrian sketch that quickly detours into the absurd, then disgusting, then metahumourous. UCB brilliance. (From the Season 3 episode "Mafia", no link anywhere I could see.)
6. "Nervous Break(fast) Down" (aka "Whole Lotta Milka"), Kids in the Hall, 1991. I could probably have put any number of other Kids sketches here, but this one really speaks to me because it makes great use of the often-underrated Kevin McDonald. (Text link.)
7. "8-in-1 Super Pan Infomercial", Mr. Show, 1996. From the first show of the second season, this show makes you laugh and then gasp. And then laugh again. (Text link; about 1/3 the way down, under "Thrilling Miracles".)
8. "Ben Hur", SCTV, 1982. The only memory I have of SCTV when I was a kid was John Candy talking in a weird high voice in a toga. And as an adult, it's just as funny for other reasons. (Review link.)
9."Spies One", A Bit of Fry and Laurie, 1989. A great send-up of Cold War spy stories, one of my favourite Fry & Laurie bits. (Text link.)
10. "Cheese Shop", Monty Python, 1972. Palin and Cleese have a few different clerk/customer sketches, and all of them are comedy gold; this one is a classic. (Video link.)

Anyone else have any suggestions? That's what the comments are for, baby!

Hidden Treasures of Wisdom

When I study, I often get distracted. When I'm writing out my notes I will sometimes start a sentence, realize it makes no sense, and then try and make it make sense somehow. Other times I start writing out something that is painfully obvious, so I try to just wrap it up quickly and move on. When I go over my notes, I usually find one or two of these "gems', that are so inane or ridiculous or incomprehensible they usually lighten my studying mood. Here is one that I discovered just a moment ago:

"Feeding is good for child development; disruption can suck."


Future health care professional, folks. Future health care professional.

The Peach and I Go Shopping!

This Sunday The Peach and I went out to the Old Strathcona Antique Mall to blow off a little steam and enjoy the sights. I will admit, I never thought I'd be a fan of "antiquing", but it's fascinating to see what people have in their little corners. There were old Whiz! comics from the 40s, framed original nudes of Marilyn Monroe ("tastefully" censored and untouched), old birdcages, tobacco cans, firearms, and signed sports equipment, to name but a handful. There are also really bizarre and ridiculous things there as well. So when we went this Sunday I brought my camera, and here are some of the real finds.




For when you really need to crack a hard case.




A Fonzie Fun Fact from this book: Henry Winkler once kicked a stray dog on the set of Happy Days. It was played on TV's Bloopers and Practical Jokes. *




The only creature powerful enough to contain eight bears? Tony the Tiger, of course!



In the Great Depression, the best option for many labourers was to try and hitch a ride on the Cookie Train.

A great gift for kids! (That you don't like very much.)



Those aren't all the pictures, but they're the ones that turned out the best. Who knows, I might make a semi-habit of this photojournalism. Because ther are some WIERD things afoot at the Antique Mall.



* - This is untrue.

Today's Moment of Irony

Nearly being driven off the road by an idiot in a white truck who's going the wrong way on a one way street while listening to this song on the radio. (Standard YouTube warning applies.)


It just proves what I've been saying for years: the moment that snow stays on the ground for longer than an hour, drivers become idiots.

That's why I wore my brimless toque tday.

It is windy outside in Edmonton today. VERY windy. So windy that I seriously considered driving my car the seven blocks to the University so as to protect myself from the elements. I didn't, of course, but it was a very tempting idea. As it was, I walked and got all kinds of dirt and crud in my eyes, and had to take a stop halfway there to warm up a little. On my walk to work I saw a woman in her mid-twenties chasing a pink hat through the gutter of a residential street. A little girl was standing alone on the sidewalk about ten feet back from her, her eyes wide, looking like she was about to cry but waiting to see whether or not her mom would catch the hat first. Just holding it in case her mom somehow managed to catch up with her little cap.

Horn of...well, not Plenty. Horn of Something.

All right, people. The Peach and I are off to Vancouver for the Thanksgiving long weekend. I don't want to leave you all with nothing to do, though, so here's a little cornucopia of odds and ends to entertain you while I'm away.

If you're an American and are confused about why Thanksgiving is a month and a bit earlier in Canada, or if you would like to know more about Canadian Thanksgiving in general, I would like to direct you to an old Electric Mayhem Non-School Research classic.

If you would like to see an amazing performance of Frank Zappa doing "I Am The Slime" on Saturday Night Live - one of my favourite fun Zappa songs - here is where you could go to do that. (Thanks to icculus on the CGS forums for the link.)

For those who like things a little more superhero-y, Kevin Church has done the nearly unthinkable: combined photos of the campy 60s Batman with dialogue and captions from Frank Miller's Dark Knight Returns. It made me cry a little. Go see.

And of course, there's always the Aquaman Song Contest, for 2 or 3 Geek Points. Go here and scroll to the bottom for a quick refresher on the rules.

So there you go, folks. Have a fun time, and keep the place clean. I want to come back here and find things exactly how I found them. Except for comments and song lyrics, you can leave plenty of those lying around.

To Paraphrase Chris Sims: Jesus, You Are Now Freaking Out

MSN conversation with Ro.

Ro: Check it. http://www.animenewsnetwork.com/news/2007-08-24/christian-manga-bible-with-japanese-artists-announced
Me: Oh man. Even the link looks bad.
Ro: no, are you kidding? This is awesome.
Ro: It's a bible with anime art.
Me: Yeah. Awesome.
Ro: sorry, "manga"
Me: Don't much care for most manga.
Ro: fine, we'll get a bible with Jeff Smith art.
Me: I like Lone Wolf & Cub. And I like Gon. And I like what I've read of Buddha.
Me: I might read that.
Ro: Or Bill Sienkiewicz. Even just Revelations. That'd be... well, I mean, can dude get any freakier?
Me: Steranko on Revelations. That'd be awesome.
Ro: Frank Miller can do any scenes with whores.
Me: See, with Steranko on Revelations, during the second coming, Jesus busts on the scene, shirtless on a hovercycle. With an eyepatch.
Ro: YES.


Our wives must have really, really good reasons for loving us.

Not a Fringe Update: New Addition To The Family!

No, The Peach isn't pregnant. At least, not as far as I know. But we have adopted. A budgie. Her name is Lola, and she's a yellow budgie who is currently trying to adjust to her new surroundings. We got her from my Future Sister-In-Law (the FSIL); she and G are moving to a new apartment, and their new work and school schedules don't work well with keeping a bird happy and healthy. And The Peach loves birds, so they naturally thought of us when it came to finding new owners for her.

Like I said, The Peach loves her; cooing to her as she does the dishes, dutifully changing the water and even giving her fresh fruit to eat, and making sure CBC Radio 2 is playing whenever we're out. The FSIL told us that Lola likes soft music, and also The Beatles. Me? I'm scared of her. Not in an "ornithophobia" sort of way, or in a "Melanie Daniels"* kind of way. In a "oh god, oh god, I'm going to kill it" kind of way. The girls keep reassuring me that there's no way I'm going to be able to hurt it, but I disagree: I'm about thirty-seven times taller than her and have probably five hundred and eighty times her mass. I know I'm going to try and change her water, or give her a head scratch, and somehow accidentally break her tiny hollow bones. Also, I don't know what to do with a bird. I feel stupid talking to it, and you can't take her for a walk or pet her or throw things at her. Well, you can throw things at her, but it'd just lead to bone breakage, which I'm already a little nervous about.

However much I'm afraid of her, she's FAR more afraid of me. Every time I walk in the room or get up from the chair I have to announce it ahead of time; if I don't, her wings start flapping and she shuffles as far away from me as possible. She won't eat in front of us, and I honestly think she breathes faster when we're in the room. I don't want her to get an anxiety problem, or have a premature heart attack, so I'm trying to give her a role model. I think she likes him.




Well, it's progress.**



* - Identify this name for 4 geek points. No Googling or anything: just off your brain.
** - Why this role model? 2 geek points.

Twelve!

Yes, twelve. That's the number of days until the wedding. The stress is getting to some people, most notably my mother and The Peach. These two ladies are working really hard on everything and I just hope that the whole show goes right for them, so they feel good and know their work was not in vain. Myself, I'm doing okay. It's a little worrisome, thinking about all the stuff that still needs to get done, even though I know we've got most of it under control. I still think that there's something that's going to go wrong, that even with all the planning and all the work something will go awry at the wedding. I was talking to Fee and NinjaStolz about it a few weeks ago, and they said to me, "Don't worry about it! Every wedding we go to we have a great time, and afterwards the people say 'Oh my god, didn't you notice everything that went wrong?' Nobody notices, it's just a few small problems and it all gets worked out in the end."

Me, though, I keep thinking that it's like a long trip that you need to pack for, and you make yourself a list, and you do your best to work through that list and get everything done. And then, when you get to the airport, there's a security problem with your bag. So you open it up, and that's when you realize that all you've packed is pants. Only pants. In the carry-on: more pants. In the shaving kit: one pair of rolled-up pants. In your wallet, instead of money? Tiny little pair of pants. It's not rational, but that's what I worry about. I'm going to get to the ceremony, and there'll be nothing but pants as far as the eye can see.

Science Trip: Saturday

I knew from the beginning that day one of the trip was always going to be the worst for me. See, back in, oh, August of 2006, we were asked to sing at the wedding of Scott, Kow Superfan, and his lovely then-fiancée Jessica. Of course, we said yes; the guy comes to nearly every show we have at the Fringe, which is a loyalty that not even our most devoted friends and family memembers have. Later on we got confirmation of the date, June 9th, and everything was fine. A few months ago, my supervisor asked me to present at a conference in Calgary, which she thought was July 16th to July 18th. And foolish me, I didn't double-check. I said, "Yes of course!" because a) someone needed to go and she would have been out of town, and b) I'd never been to a conference before and I thought it'd be fun. Two weeks before the wedding, I finally registered for the conference. And found out it was on the 9th throuth 11th. Panic set in. I had committed to two absolutely mandatory events on the same day in two separate cities. I'm not The Flash. I'm not even Madrox*. I was worried that it couldn't be done, but after doing some wiggling, I figured I could pull it off. If I arrived in Calgary at exactly 1:00 and set up my poster, and if I checked in to my hotel room by 3:00, and if traffic on Highway Two was good, there should be no problem. I'd drive back to Edmonton for 6:00, sing at the wedding, leave Edmonton at 9:30, and get back to my hotel for 12:30. Everything would be just fine!

On the leisurely drive to Calgary, I caught up on a few episodes of Comic Geek Speak and pulled out albums from Count Zero (Little Minds) and The Arcade Fire (Neon Bible). Count Zero is a band I discovered while playing Guitar Hero; I think the songs that they put on Guitar Hero One (Sail Your Ship By) and Two (Radium Eyes) are two of the best unlockable songs available. Little Minds is an okay pop-rock album, with a few really good songs, but the rest range from acceptable-to-fair. Neon Bible, however, is great. I held off listening to it because I kept hearing that it was a disappointment when compared to Funeral, but I didn't find that at all. It's not quite as good as the debut, but the difference is negligible, and I liked it so much I repeated a few songs. The Geeks talked about Daredevil, miniseries, and Grant Morrison. It was awesome.

I pulled into Calgary at 12:30, and thanks to a combination of Google Maps and a sudden realization as to how Calgary is laid out (seriously, though, that city has a ridiculous street labelling system) I made it to the Calgary Westin at 12:55, just in time to put up my poster. When I got to the conference table, I was told that due to "technical difficulties" in the room, poster set-up had been delayed, and that I should check back again at 3:00. "Uh, that's going to be a little difficult," I said. "You see, I need to be gone by 3:00." After explaining the trek I had to make later in the day, the woman behind the table empathized with me and said she'd happily put the poster up for me. I thanked her profusely, checked in and registered, then went out to the front desk.

The girls at the front desk greeted me warmly. One of them was a young brunette with a cheerful demeanor and braces, the other was a short blonde with indie-rock looking glasses . They took my company credit card and tried to ring it through. "Oh, I'm sorry," said the bruntette, "I'm going to need verbal authorization of this card." She went to the phone and I chatted with the blonde, who complimented me on my Music + Science = Sexy t-shirt, as she was taking a double-major in Math and Music at the U of C. The brunette came back. "Sorry," she said again, "but I can't seem to get authorization. Maybe you can call the number on the back of the card?"

She gave me a courtesy phone, and I dialed the 1-800 number. "For business transactions, authorization, and bla bla bla, press one. If you are enquiring about your account balance, press two. If you are a corporate card holder, press three." I pressed one, and was quickly put on hold without explanation. After 20 minutes of instrumental piano and string music, which didn't soothe me so much as fire the flames of my impatience the longer I waited, I hung up the phone. "I'm not getting anything," I said, "do you know of another number I can call?" They got me the Mastercard 24 hour emergency number, and suggested that I could head over to the payphones if I wanted to sit down while I was making the calls.

I sat on one of the benches and dialed the number. After about 10 minutes of waiting, the gentleman on the other end of the line told me there was nothing he could do because it wasn't a Mastercard problem, but rather the problem of the issuing bank. He gave me the bank's number, and I called it, getting the same push-button menu and the same instrumental crap. After another 20 minutes on hold, I picked up another phone and called the number again; this time, however, I pressed 3 instead of 1. Immediately I hear the following message. "Thank you for calling (BANK NAME). Our business hours are 8:00 a.m. to 9:00 p.m., Monday to Friday. Please call back later." Oh crap.

I walked back to the front desk. "Any luck?" asked the brunette? I shook my head, looking dejected. "Well, I'll see what Sean can do for you." Sean, who I assumed was a higher-ranked employee, came over and asked me a bunch of questions. "Did you call the number on the back of the card?" Yes. "Did you call the MasterCard emergency number?" Yes. "Well, there's not much we can do. Do you have an alternate form of payment?" Well, I said, I suppose if I cleaned out my bank account I could stay at your hotel for one night, but I wouldn't be able to afford gas back to Edmonton. "I'm sorry, sir," he said, "but there's nothing else I can do for you."

"You don't understand," I said frantically. "I have to be at this conference this weekend."

"You're part of the conference?" he said. And the heavens parted.

Five minutes later everything was settled. It was now 2:45; I checked in to my room on the 15th floor, ran back down to the car, and started driving back to Edmonton. More driving, more CGS, as well as some NoMeansNo for adrenaline, and I was back in town at 5:45. Plenty of time to change into my wedding clothes, brush my teeth, and head to the wedding! Plus, The Peach had made me cookies for my trip as well as a mix cd to drive to! Hooray for everything!

I got changed and checked my desk for the address of the hotel. I couldn't find it. Hmm, that's weird. Oh well, I'm sure the e-mail's still in my account. Ten minutes later, no e-mail. I called Ninja's house: nobody there knew where the wedding was. I called Astro's house: nobody answered. I checked my e-mail again, the junk mail and the deleted files: nothing. I called ten downtown hotels at random: none of them knew where the wedding was. I was back in town early and was going to miss the wedding. I nearly started to cry.

But then! I made one last-ditch phone call to the Barber's apartment. "Hello?" his lady answered. "Oh, thank GOD!" I said. I explained the ridiculousness of the situation, nearly out of breath. "Oh, don't worry," she said, "I know where it is!" SUCCESS!

I peeled out of my parking lot (now late) and drove to the reception, where I paid $3.45 for a $2.50 parking meter because it wouldn't recognize my last nickel, and ran to the elevator. When the doore opened at the top floor, it was 6:30, and dinner was winding down. I got a big plate of salad and potatoes, and Astro and Jago gave me some pity roast beef from their plate of seconds. Jessica even set me up a spot at Kow's table, which was amazingly nice of her to do at her own wedding.

The next few hours are kind of a blur. I had some good food, we sang (a little late, but that's okay) and people seemed to think we were decent, and we took photos with the bride and room before I went back to my place, changed, and drove back down again. I listened to some more CGS, but by 12:30 I was feeling the tiredness, so I switched to Patton Oswalt and screamed his punchlines out to the darkness in order to keep myself awake until 1:30, when I finally got to the hotel. By the time I got up to my room, called The Peach so she knew I got in safe, and washed the road off of my face, it was 2:00. I groggily set the alarm for 6:45 and drifted peacefully to sleep, knowing that the next day was going to hurt, but it was worth it.

To be continued.


* - Anyone know why this would help me? THREE POINTS!

Pop Culture Moment: Mike Nichols & Elaine May

Lately I've been listening to a lot of old comedy albums that I found at the library. I've taken out some Bill Cosby classics (like Revenge, which is even better than I remember it), and Lenny Bruce (amazing when he's not ranting about his legal troubles), but I've been stuck on two artists in particular: Mike Nichols and Elaine May. Today Mike Nichols is famous director, with such films as The Graduate, Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, and Angels In America to his credit. Elaine May is less of a household name but has directed a few movies (including the infamous Ishtar) as well as garnering two Academy Award nominations for writing (Heaven Can Wait and Primary Colours).

In the late 50s and early 60s, Nichols and May were well-known for their brand of improvisational comedy, and their performances on stage and on television were always a big hit. They put out three albums: Improvisations to Music, Mike Nichols & Elaine May Examine Doctors, and the Grammy-award winning (and my favourite) An Evening With Mike Nichols and Elaine May. Their repartee is amazing: they go back and forth with ease, and whether they're working off a script or from the seats of their pants they're always right on. It's not fast-paced standup comedy, nor the kind of improvisation you might be familiar with, but their cerebral humour rewards careful listening.

As I was enjoying a nice lazy long weekend, I decided to see how many of their performances were available online, and I'm happy to say that there are quite a lot of performances to choose from. I encourage you to take a few minutes out of your day and follow the links below: if you've never heard them before, like I said, they're a real treat, even if you have to go to the accursed YouTube for some of them:

• Nichols & May at YouTube. I love "A Dentist In Love" and "Dating".
  
• Nichols & May at Rhapsody (U.S. only, dammit). I particularly recommend "A Little More Gauze" and "Adultery".

I'll add more if I can find them, but it's hard to find free streaming audio if you're a Canadian. Damn RIAA...