No One Cares About Your Fucking Blog

No One Cares About THIS Fucking Blog

2007-11-21T11:37:00.000-05:00

From the comments section:

Seriously, no one cares about YOUR blog.

Yes, it's true. I feel this blog has lost it's way. But I don't pretend to be a good blog, or even one that anyone should read. Blogs are stupid...INCLUDING this one. Specifically, I DO need to find more horribly inaccurate reporting in the blogging world, and in the traditional media. That's the point of this. I'm just lazy. Very, very lazy.

Also Into Cats...

2007-05-23T13:06:00.000-04:00

MeTube

2007-05-17T13:27:00.000-04:00

Interpol:

"The advent of youtube, to have your record portrayed in such a low fidelity medium is awful. I mean it’s flattering that somebody feels the need to get the live performances up of these songs right away, but the thought of having our whole album on a DV cassette through some broadband wire is ridiculous."

from Gigwise

Music Is So Gay

2007-05-16T10:52:00.000-04:00

OMG! A band wearing dresses! That's so gay! They certainly need to explain themselves, because, you know. No one has ever done that before!

As for the blowjob, er....no comment.

OMG!

2007-04-06T10:59:00.000-04:00

OMG! Who jizzed on that puppy's face!?!?!?!

From:
http://dailypuppy.com/index.php?itemid=1004

Kiiiiiii - Live @ Cake Shop (4/4/07)

2007-04-05T17:20:00.000-04:00

Can There Be Anyone Out There Stupider Than Bloc Party?

2007-03-29T16:18:00.000-04:00

From Stereogum:

The Bloc Party frontman went on to state..."Can there be anyone out there who has never had a line? Everyone I know has done it. Cocaine can be very attractive, very seductive."

I don't like slagging on artists unless they say something EXTREMELY stupid. This is one of those things that's EXTREMELY stupid. I know it may be hard for Bloc Party to look down on the rest of the world from their Ivory Tower, but to be shocked that someone out there hasn't even tried cocaine? Seriously, what the fuck.

The Bulldozers Can't Come Fast Enough

2007-03-23T11:27:00.000-04:00

Sirenfest is a big free music concert that happens every year on Coney Island. Apparently, hipsters are salivating to find out what date it will be this year.

I guess they don't realize that this kind of shit needs to be scheduled well in advance and that, maybe, just maybe, they shouldn't fall victim to their Pavlov, The Village Voice. Sirenfest has been solidified well in advance; it's Saturday, July 21...Or so says Coney Island. And, honestly, let's face it, Coney Island freaks are more credible than Village Voice freaks anyway.

Daniel Johnston Says Stupid Shit

2007-03-20T12:53:00.000-04:00

Apparently, at SXSW this year, Daniel Johnston said some stupid shit:

“I heard the Jews are having a pajama party… at the concentration camp.”

Wow, it's almost as if, you know, he is mentally ill or something.

Vs The Board Of Edycation

2007-03-16T14:10:00.000-04:00

Check this out:

I hope the funds for this ticket go right back into the public school system.

Here's a close-up:

Naughty Hottie

2007-03-13T12:15:00.000-04:00

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
13 March 2007

CONTACT: Tim Bueler
310-855-3460
Media@TimBueler.com

VIACOM BROADCASTS BLASPHEMOUS TV SHOW

‘Naughty Hottie’ Episode of Sarah Silverman Having Sex with ‘God’:

Comedy Central, a wholly-owned division of MTV Networks, whose parent company is New York based VIACOM, preparing to rebroadcast the ‘Naughty hottie’ episode of the “Sarah Silverman Program” has drawn the ire of America’s Pro-Life/Pro-Family Mutual Fund Group – the Timothy Plan.

During your Talk Show interview with Timothy Plan President Arthur Ally, he shares with your audience that to air and rebroadcast a program, comedy or not, that depicts the main character having sex with God brings VIACOM’s anti-Christian vitriol to an all time low.”

“Christians and culturally conservative Americans alike should be appalled by the sheer blatancy of this heresy,” said Ally. (See biography below.)

Ally states that the Timothy Plan fund family, which began operations in April of 1994, “exists to allow concerned investors to match their moral convictions with their investment decisions.”

The Timothy Plan avoids investing in companies that profit from or support things like pornography, abortion, non-married lifestyles, anti-family entertainment, as well as companies involved in promoting issues contrary the teachings of the Bible.

Dear Tim,

Thank you for keeping me up-to-date on the latest programming on Comedy Central. I regret to inform you that we will probably not be providing coverage to the Sarah Silverman Program now that the season has recently concluded. However, please let me know when the next season is gearing up again and I would love to consider coverage on our website.

Ms. Silverman is a fine human being, who I have had the pleasure of spending time with; I wish you and her all the best in your efforts.

All the best,
No One Cares About Your Fucking Blog

I Guess People In Pop Music Just Aren't That Nice....

2007-03-09T17:55:00.000-05:00

From: http://www.azcentral.com/ent/pop/articles/0309losers0309-CR.html

Michael Jackson

At a lavish party filled with Japanese fans, Jacko impersonators, orphans and handicapped children, Michael Jackson said this week, “As Charles Dickens says, ‘It's been the best of times, the worst of times.’ But I would not change my career.” Let’s elaborate on what he’s actually saying : “I’ve pretty much eliminated any trace of my African-American heritage and 99.9 percent of my nose so that I look like a cross between the undead and a female department-store mannequin. I’ve spent the last two decades fighting child-molestation charges to the point where you can’t even give my records away in America. I’ve bankrupted myself by spending millions on zoo animals and fairground rides to entice children to hang out with me. I managed to get Paul McCartney, the nicest man in pop music, to stop speaking to me, and former Hollywood power broker friends like Steven Spielberg and David Geffen are not returning my calls because of anti-Semitic remarks I made on a record nobody bought, forcing me to pay a witch doctor $150,000 to place a death curse on them and 23 other enemies. So now I’m forced to siphon $3,500 off my loyal Japanese fans just for the privilege of shaking my limp wrist and spending quality time with me for a whole minute. Naw, I wouldn’t change a minute of my career. Hell, I’d dangle that baby off the balcony again if it came to it.”

Nicest man in pop music?

Ash Wednesday: When Catholics Are Like The Goth Kids From My High School

2007-02-22T10:13:00.000-05:00

As I was coming home last night, I noticed some shit on people's foreheads. It had completely slipped my mind until that point that it was Ash Wednesday when the fashion sense of Catholics around the world and the goth kids from my old high school unite their fashion senses for some reason or another.

I don't claim to understand the religiousness behind Ash Wednesday, but I do know that a lot of priests must have shaky hands or poor eyesight, as far too many of these crosses look like UPSIDEDOWN CROSSES. I mean, it's goth either way, but one way is certain NOT Catholic.

Someone Beat You To The Idea, Arcade Fire!

2007-02-21T17:29:00.000-05:00

In a recent interview with NME, Win Butler from The Arcade Fire said the following:

"There's nothing less interesting to me than the idea of marketing the fuck out of something so people are forced to like it. Some bands are just manipulating people to buy music. That's how 90 per cent of the record industry works! It's basically the same as selling a fucking toaster or a cruise package."

Poor, poor, Arcade Fire. Don't they know someone already did that:

Apparently Toaster even had a solo project (though I can no longer find evidence of it). More information on Cock Robot can be found here: http://home.jtan.com/~michael/cock-robot/

No One Cares About Your Fucking Bald Ass Head

2007-02-19T16:24:00.000-05:00

No one cares about your fucking bald ass head, or your bald ass vagina. In fact, we probably think it's kind of hot. If you are nutty enough to go around and do this to yourself, who knows what other kind of nutty things you are capable of? We have seen some of these things first hand, of course, and now we realize the truth.

If it's possible for K-Fed to get into your skanky ass vagina, it is possible for us. Therein lies the hope for all men everywhere.

This shaved head is not a symbol of Britney's craziness, but a collective male orgy of masturbation around the world proving once and for all...fucking Britney is so possible, it's just a matter of finding the opportunity.

It's True Because It Is

2006-11-29T12:34:00.000-05:00

Die, Pitchfork, Die!

New Rules

2006-09-22T00:40:00.000-04:00

Gorilla vs. Bloc Par--I mean, Bear made this list about the Official Concert Rules of Etiquette - Volume 1...Fuck! Is there going to be a Volume TWO!?!?!!?! I hope not, this list is a mile long as is, and inspired me to make my own list of rules....

THE OFFICIAL BLOGGING RULES OF ETIQUETTE

Rule #1: STOP WHINING. Look, dude, there's a reason people hate record store snobs, it's because they want to make fucking lists and rules about how they feel people should enjoy music. Bloggers need to shut the fuck up, and stop telling everyone else how to have a good time.

Shit, seriously...some of these rules are just fucking stupid! No throwing shit? No heckling!? NO TALKING!?!?!?! NO DRUNK GUY!!!!?!?!??! Are we at a rock show or a fucking opera!?! Have you ever been on a stage in your fucking life? It's the assholes that do the stupidest shit that make it the most fun.

Stop trying to suck the fun out of the concert experience. You are a douchebag. It's amazing to have people pull out lighters during your set (cliche as it may be), it's nice to hear someone yell out a request, cameras mean people give a shit about you as a band, etc. etc. etc. etc.

Seriously, dude, what crawled up your ass?

Way To Keep A Secret, Asshole.

2006-09-07T15:13:00.000-04:00

Look, if you tell people about them, they really aren't SECRET anymore, are they?

Bush admits to secret CIA prisons

What Part Of "Snakes On A Plane" Didn't You Understand?

2006-08-18T17:37:00.000-04:00

Seriously? Didn't live up to WHAT hype? Were there not enough 'Snakes' for you? Or maybe it wasn't 'On A Plane' enough for you?

http://www.suntimes.com/output/movies/cst-ftr-snakes18a.html

Gorilla Vs. Bloc Party

2006-08-16T15:55:00.000-04:00

A friend of mine sent me a link to www.gorillavsbear.net and said, "go to it and scroll down to article right above bloc party photo...highest score gets all my daniel powter bootlegs"

This task proved much more difficult than it initially appeared every other post was something about Bloc Party. Cripes, you know, Bloc Party are not the center of the universe, and certainly shouldn't be the center of your blog. Unless you call it Blog Party or Gorilla Vs. Bloc Party or some name more clever than I can think of while ranting.

Seriously, how many times can you post about Bloc Party on your main page?

ONE...
TWO...
THREE(with MP3!)...
FOUR...

Mel Gibson Wins Connecticut Primary

2006-08-08T23:48:00.000-04:00

Really, against a backdrop of people-powered politics, web server crashes, and the like, the mainstream media as well as the blogosphere have forgotten the most important factor in politics: Mel Gibson.

Hear me out. When Gibson rants drunkenly about Jews starting all the wars, Lieberman (D-RI), who is a supporter of the Iraq war and, incidentally, jewish, sees his poll numbers fall. Despite these statements, Gibson's own numbers remain strong.

So what does it mean?

Clearly, the real winner of the Connecticut primary is Mel Gibson. Those voters will eat up anything he says...even if it is pure crap. Apparently, he is nothing short of a God.

Shit, They Really Fucked Up The Spelling Of The Word "Especially"

2006-07-28T16:15:00.000-04:00

The 25 Biggest Wusses … Ever!
From Blender

23. Everyone in ’N Sync (Except Justin Timberlake)

All The Brown-Nosing In The World Isn't Going To Get You A Job At The Village Voice

2006-07-28T12:07:00.000-04:00

From Fluxblog:

I love Tom Breihan's writing, I really do, I seriously think that he's one of the very best music critics in the world right now...

Comment:

Man, if Tom Breihan is "one of the very best music critics in the world right now" then I guess I could smear shit on a bathroom wall and you'd think I was one of the greatest artists of all time. Oh, wait...

I've Never Had A Greater Desire To Crush A Musician's Heart...

2006-05-04T15:42:00.000-04:00

I usually avoid poking fun of musicians on here, but sometimes every now and again one says something so stupid (think Morrisey saying genocide is not as bad as killing seals) that I have to say something...

From www.redhotchilipeppers.com:

if you down load it now off one of these file sharing sites
you will be getting a pale imitation of the record
it will be of the poor sound quality of the technique they used to get it on there
and that will break my heart
it will break john frusciante's heart
it will break anthony kiedis's heart
and it will break the heart of chad smith

Wow. I never wanted to break a musician's heart so badly in my life. I question if RHCP REALLY believe in this record. I mean, hearing it on the Internet would make people want to buy it if it was as amazing as Flea makes it out to be, right? I mean, it's a rehashed MP3 debate. Have some fucking confidence in your music. Hearing it early shouldn't be considered an economic deterrent...well, unless the record sucks.

My Last Nick Sylvester Post....I Promise

2006-04-30T17:36:00.000-04:00

Okay, so now that Nick Sylvester is pretty much a has been; unless he does something stupidly visible this will be my last post about him. I hear he's a nice guy, but he just doesn't quite get it.

This review seems to sum it up pretty well...except replace "Jet" with "Nick Sylvester" and replace the concert promoter explaining how to just play the hits with an editor explaining how to be a journalist.

Update Your Fucking Blog

2006-03-31T16:09:00.000-05:00

Seriously, what's the point when you never update you jerk.....

Stop Using Fucking gettyimages

2006-03-06T11:39:00.000-05:00

Could you imagine the front page of the New York Times with a HUGE "gettyimages" watermark across George W. Bush's face? It doesn't look good in print and it doesn't look good online. I've seen countless bloggers use these "gettyimages," because I'm sure non-watermarked photos of bands so outside of the mainsteam like the Strokes are impossible to find. I actually hate to call out Brooklyn Vegan on this (he does have one of the few blogs I *do* respect), but I regularly see such gorgeous pictures on his site that shit like this really just kills me.

Ahem

2006-03-04T16:44:00.000-05:00

I love it when certain people take a high moral ground.

This Is What Happens When You Let Bloggers Write For Newspapers

2006-03-02T11:57:00.000-05:00

Yes, I am aware of the fact that this is probably a huge copyright infringement...in theory. However, it is also newsworthy to post the full text of Nick Sylvester's fabricated article (as it has been removed from the Village Voice's website)...so, here you go.

For those of you unaware of this controversy try this link, this link, or this one.

'Do You Wanna Kiss Me?'
How New York's women are wising up to The Game's pickup tips
by Nick Sylvester
February 28th, 2006 11:42 AM

"It was Saturday night, we had just had sex," recalls Caitlin, a 22-year-old private tutor living on the Upper West Side. "I went into the bathroom. He had, of course, stacks of The New Yorker and some other random books. Underneath the New Yorkers, I saw what I thought was the Bible. And the first thing I thought was, 'Oh my God, he has the Bible in the bathroom.' But it was The Game, the picking-up-girls book. So I flipped through it a little bit."Five minutes in, Caitlin felt like she was reading a script of her night so far: Apparently, she'd been negged, cubed, kino'd, then f-closed by a PUA. She stormed out the bathroom, book in hand. "He sort of didn't want to discuss it."

A neg is a backhanded compliment; the cube is a sleazy "interactive demonstration of value" routine; kino is short for kinesthesia, i.e., physical contact; f-close is sex. That leaves PUA: pickup artist.

"Somewhere along the path of life, many men have picked up bad habits, social awkwardness, and a lack of confidence around women," writes Game author Neil Strauss in an e-mail. "Why aren't they allowed to change these bad habits and start putting their best foot forward when they meet women?"

Ask anyone: The nice guy loses; the jerk gets the girl. Since last September, The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pickup Artists (Regan/Harper Collins) has broken down this truism to a foolproof science.
Softbound in black faux leather to resemble the Bible, The Game reveals the field-tested lines and techniques Strauss learned during the year and change he spent interacting with the world's finest pickup artists, leading "sarging" missions (wherein AFCs, "average frustrated chumps," practice their moves at bars on unsuspecting women), and eventually living with a few PUAs in a Los Angeles mansion they called Project Hollywood. Clearly explained, the book's tricks are easy to learn and deploy, and quietly devastating in their success.

"I met him on OKcupid, the online dating service," says Kim, a science grad student at Columbia, referring to a date she went on recently. "So I figured he'd be sorta shy. We met downtown, and one of the first things he said to me was, 'Oh, those look like comfortable shoes.' It wasn't nasty—like, he didn't say my shoes were ugly—but he noted that I was wearing sneakers not shoes, and it totally bothered me the whole night." Kim went home with him.

Needless to say, rumors of the book's success have sped up the adoption of its lines and methods. The Game has sold 170,000 copies so far, keeping it in the Amazon Top Sellers list, while episodes of CSI: Miami, Twins and even the Late Show have explicitly ripped details, lingo, and character names from Strauss's forays. In just six months, women have wised up to the book, catching men running Game mid-act, and even turning the pickup lines against the men using them.

In a post titled "Playing With the Player," New York date blogger Dolly (cocksanddolls.blogspot.com) recounts her interaction with "PUA Dave":

I decided to fool him by asking how long he thought Pretty Polly and I were friends (we have known each other for less than a couple of months but people have mistaken us for sisters).He said, "Let me give you the best friends test."My eyes widened and jaw dropped open. "You're a pick-up artist!"

"Look, everybody's always manipulating," says Strauss in our interview. "The question is, are you manipulating for good or bad?"

To be precise, The Game is not just an elaborate crib sheet. The how-to aspect was important to Strauss, but he programs it into a gonzo journalistic narrative about his own transformation from balding, gawky New York Times rock writer into "Style," the world's greatest pickup artist, who by book's end has been with hundreds of women. One Voice veteran, who remembers Strauss as a skinny, mild-mannered nerd interning for then music editor Joe Levy, expressed astonishment at his evolution into a "pussy magnet."

The book's guiding principle is that, today and for whatever reason, in order for you to attract a woman, you first need to seem actively disinterested in her. But unlike the bulk of relationship manuals, The Game is not theory based. The methods discussed are empirically proven "thousands" of times over. Strauss explains that when a PUA posts on a seduction community message board about a new line that's worked for him, PUAs around the world go out and try for themselves, then report back to the board whether or not the line performed. Every contingency has been accounted for. Nothing in the book hasn't worked.

Even as early as October, I started noticing Strauss's book taking effect downtown. For men completely lost with women, or for others like Rob, a handsome but skittish twentysomething who spent years with a college squeeze and no time in the field, The Game offers step-by-step advice. Eleven steps, to be exact, and key lines and stage directions for each.

Rob and his equally nerdy wing man, who only offered his pickup name ("Popcorn Dog"), were at Bar None on Third Avenue. The crowd that night was a bit older and a little more divorced than usual. Exactly as Strauss prescribed, Rob approached a set of two hard-looking blondes, ignored his prettier "target," then addressed her friend with a canned line he learned early in the book:

"Hey, I need your opinion on something. My friend over there, he wants to buy a wallaby."

The two women were confused but intrigued, and that was enough of an in. They asked what and why and how, and the absurdity of the question overshadowed the discomfort of someone randomly coming up and asking it. The target, presumably used to men approaching her first and certainly not used to men who pretend she's not even there, finally gave Rob some shit, revealing her thick Boston accent: "What are you, friends with weirdos or something?" A perfect setup for Rob's neg. Without looking at the girl, he said to her friend, "Is she always this irritable?"

While Popcorn Dog flew in to occupy the target's friend, Rob now focused on the target, armed with a dizzying mix of straight fluff, playground teases, jokes about people in the bar, and then, finally, a question: "Do you wanna kiss me?"

As mentioned, pickup artists have thought through every social situation, planned for every contingency. If she says "yes" to Rob's question, for instance, he kisses her. If she says "maybe," he also kisses her. If she says "no," Rob responds, "I didn't say you could-—you just looked like you had something on your mind."

She said maybe.

That was November. By mid January, it seemed that New York was running out of wallabies.
I followed Rob, Popcorn, and another wing named Reisig to Beauty Bar on 14th Street. The place was prime sarging ground: Simple eavesdropping in the bar's backroom revealed a thick crowd of Upper East Siders, wearing party shirts and expensive unisex cologne, who had cash but no sense of seduction—no game. Strauss's moves would work without a hitch.

Reisig went in on a group of younger girls, very early-'80s, Lower East Side–look ing, their mascara running on purpose. Headstrong, he went in with an opinion opener: "Hey, I need to get—"

"A female opinion on something?" she interrupted, finishing his sentence, one that comes near verbatim from The Game. "I think David Bowie looks great." That part's from The Game too.

Hardly cause for panic. As the book itself predicted, any venue, even an entire city, can get "sarged out"; a PUA masters the Game, though, when he knows how to tweak it—modify the lines a bit. Rob had an idea, and approached a three-set with a new spin.

"Listen, my friend over there, he wants to buy an eagle."

But the girls' eyes rolled. One snapped back too: "Oh, interesting—my friend wants to buy a wallaby."

Forget overexposure. Some women appear to be reading the book on their own as a precautionary measure. Dolly the blogger's PUA encounter continues:
"I know what the best friends test is," I continued. "It's one of the tricks pick-up artists use."

"What's the best friends test?" asked Polly (she had read the book, but only parts of it).

"PUA Dave asks us if we use the same shampoo. We look at each other and then say we don't know. He says it doesn't matter, because what counts is that we looked at each other before answering, which shows a close bond. The whole thing is part of a routine."

PUA Dave smirked and said he didn't need any routines.

I shook my head, heady on the knowledge that I knew what he was. "All that making fun of me before was part of it, too."

"You mean negging?"

"The 'neg' and 'freeze out' manipulate a woman's insecurities, but New York girls seem to have a steely, overinflated sense of self-esteem," believes Sia Michel, editor in chief of Spin. "This is a walking city, so they're hearing hostile sexual comments on the street all day long."

A friend of Strauss, Michel has been put in an unusually comical position to call out men running Game on her. Not only did she read The Game when it was in galleys, but last year, when she flew to Los Angeles for the Grammys, she even visited Strauss's Project Hollywood mansion, described in The Game as the "church of the spread legs."

"One time someone came up and said, 'Listen, I've only got a couple minutes, but I wanted to ask your advice on something.' And I said, 'Oh, you're creating a 'false time constraint.' He tried to act like he had no idea what I was talking about, but I was like, 'I read The Game too! Are you going to try a 'yes-ladder' next?' Then he just sheepishly walked away." (PUAs use the yes-ladder technique to establish a string of "yes" responses to short, simple questions like "Are you spontaneous?" or "Do you like fun?" Apparently it gives a conversation a jolt of positive energy.)

Michel became even more skeptical of the book's power after interacting with Mystery. The legendary PUA, who brought Strauss into the pickup network, invented the Mystery Method, a combination of negging, canned routines (handing out bead necklaces, performing magic tricks, showing photos of you holding a baby), and "peacocking"—dressing flamboyantly to draw attention to yourself. Michel ran into Mystery and Strauss at the Cutting Room on 24th Street, as they led a sarging mission:

"Mystery and his crew were going around the club performing magic tricks on girls, followed by a crew of TV cameramen. I don't even think they were real cameramen. I think the idea was, 'Well, if we pretend like we're being filmed for a documentary, girls are way more likely to talk to some tall freaky magician in platform boots and a leopard skin hat.' "

But Mystery wasn't having much luck there, and decided to move the mission downtown.

"We all ended up at a packed East Village bar, really late, and now he was going full force, working his tactics on my journalist friends," says Michel. "There were ESP games, palm readings, and some faux mysticism where he claimed he could stare into your eyes and glean deep knowledge of your soul. He was wearing a ridiculous outfit—I think leather pants and black nail polish were involved—which might have been fine on the Sunset Strip but was incredibly cheesy for New York. Virtually every girl there seemed to be shunning him. Finally he had a meltdown and shouted, in the middle of the bar, ' ONE OF YOU IS GONNA FUCK ME TONIGHT!' "

It would be natural for the book's methods to reach a saturation point, and completely fine, except there's one problem: Women still love the jerks. In a situation where most men's seduction instinct, learned from The Game or not, is to play the jerk, then on paper it would follow that men should compete with one another to prove to a target who is the bigger asshole: proving their worth to her by flinging insults at each other, rising to the top by cutting down the bottom, what have you.

In practice, this caveman-style Game hasn't worked very well. At Black and White on 10th Street, Carl B. approached a set of girls already occupied by two fairly muscular men. One of them was wearing a hat that said "Dubai," the name of a major United Arab Emirates city. "Hey, you've been to Dubai too?" Carl pressed. The guy hadn't.

"Oh. Well, must be pretty awesome to have a hat from Dubai without actually having to go there." Carl thought he was in; instead the girls said he was "needlessly mean." "You should just leave," they told him.
Other PUAs nervous about the new rules of the Game think that if they go full blast with Strauss's techniques, using as many as possible all at once, they can overcome the obsolescence of the moves when used in isolation. Call it hyper-Game.

Inside Webster Hall at the Plug Independent Music Awards in early February, Jon brought an enormous camera rig, and in an aggressive form of peacocking, took photos of people as they entered from the V.I.P. door. Inevitably this would prompt a response from women, making him seem both temporarily important—he had a camera—and less obvious about his intentions—you know, he was there to take photos, nothing else.
Key word: temporarily.

"Yolanda?" he asked, guessing my girlfriend's name after taking her picture. It seemed like a bizarre take on The Game's "pick a number" routine. (Quick: Most girls say seven, and in the PUA's back pocket is a piece of paper with that very number.)

"What?"

"Am I close?" Was this a yes-ladder?

"It's Jelena."

"See I was close!" shouted Jon. "Jelena, like yellow. And you're wearing yellow."

This guy was admittedly brilliant, but when he tried to close the deal, his approach was so under the radar that something seemed suspicious. He said, "You should give me your number so I can send you these photos."

"Why do you want my number?" Jelena asked. "I can just give you my e-mail address."

This would have been victory, but after playing so many games at once, Jon had psyched himself out. "No, that's a bad idea," he said, adding inexplicably, "I'm having trouble with spyware."

To think, the whole idea of The Game was to make approaching women easier—and now women are warier of men than ever.

I call Strauss. He's at his new home in L.A., awaiting the delivery of Panic Park, an arcade video game that, like Mario Party or WarioWare, is a hodgepodge of smaller, genre-spanning games. One second you're racing, another you're catching floating dollar bills.

What most bothers people about the routines, I tell him, is the manipulation involved. Strauss spins it differently. Better to have a nice guy who pretends to be a jerk for a couple days in order to get you to like him, and then is a nice guy in the relationship, than the opposite."

If anything, Strauss believes, The Game is doing women a service because it's widening the dating pool. More and more kinds of men are talking to them, which means they have more and better choices.

"They're making the rules—we're just trying to find a way to play by them," Strauss says. "I talked to some of the women who I'd been with afterward, and did interviews, broke down the experience from their point of view. A lot of them knew I was running Game. They knew the lines and patterns and routines. Even the first girl I had the threesome with, she said, 'Oh, I knew exactly what you were doing. I had never been with a woman before, I didn't want to, but I thought it was such a cool thing that you were doing, so I went along with it because it felt comfortable.' "

Strauss has read Dolly's Cocks and Dolls blog post, and points out that even though she recognized she was dealing with a PUA, she still made out with him.

"Nick, what's the oldest, cheesiest pick- up line?"

" 'Is that a sandwich you're eating?' "

"No, it's 'What's your sign?' We all know it. But the fact is, it still works. Because (a) at some point when you're talking to a woman—and maybe this is my Los Angeles experience but I find it generally to be true—you're gonna end up talking about astrology, and she's gonna ask you what your sign is. Do you find that generally to be true?"

"Yes."

"Second thing is, 'What's your sign?' is a neutral entertaining opener, and it's a DHV—demonstration of higher value—it's the same fucking structure as the openers the pickup artists use today. Before it was a cliché, it was a nonsexual way to start a conversation. It demonstrated that you knew something interesting and spiritual. The openers today, like 'Do you think spells work?' are pretty much the same thing. So nothing's really changed."
People need to meet, and it's all about thinking those interactions through—specifically, how you might handle being caught using one of Strauss's canned lines.

"If you are getting busted, all you need to do is have a contingency plan," Strauss explains. "You say, 'Yeah, I just read that book! I wanted to go out and try it today. It's funny, I get busted the first time using it.' All you have to do is be smart about it. You can't be knocked off course.

"It's almost like tax law. You got the government—and I'm not saying the analogy between the government and taxpayers is like men and women—the idea is they keep changing the law and trying to make it airtight, and there's always someone out trying to figure out the loophole, and they're finding it every year."

At 151, a Lower East Side bar that's seen The Game manifest itself in all too many ways, from plastic firemen's hats to amateur hypnosis, I met Steve Lucien, DC, and Vic, three TV writers who had flown in from L.A. for the weekend. Under the pretense of visiting friends on the East Coast, the three really had come into the city because, as Strauss writes at the end of The Game, L.A. is completely sarged out. They want to investigate New York.

With them they brought new methods—they were updating the Game to give old tricks new life. Recently Lucien had been doing something you could call Reverse Game, in which he frames his Game-driven advances as friendly warnings about Game-driven jerks:

"Hey, there's some weird shit happening in this bar," Lucien will say. "These guys are just coming up and saying really weird shit to women—something about an eagle? Then they're mean to you. It's sick!"

"Oh I know what you're talking about! That book!"

"Yeah, you won't believe this stuff. Like watch, pretend I'm one of those dudes who read the book. Do you wanna kiss me?"

After seeing dozens of men at every Hollywood bar carrying around a pocketful of beads to drape around women's necks, per the book's tip, Vic had taken to carrying around plastic snakes, which he would inexplicably leave on bar counters, and a $100 coupon for a $300 psychic reading. The coupons are a conversation prompt, often parlayed into kino from women interested in astrology. Brags Vic, "I can usually get the girl to give me a psychic reading in a few minutes."

Women expect clever approaches, but in post-Game, they might see more roundabout versions, such as DC's new signature move, a pickup line that takes over 15 minutes to tell and wraps up like this:
"Anyway, my friend has had this mustache for as long as I've known him but he just shaved it and now he's freaking out because he has a really bad tan line on his upper lip. He has a date in two days so we were discussing what he can do. My question for you is: Should he wear a fake mustache on the date?"

Overt is becoming the new covert, believes DC, after a night of post-sarging that netted two numbers and, by his account, a "sorta shitty kiss."

"Now I think it's about putting it all out there, like, 'Let's get married tonight.' Other times, though, I have to be more guarded. That's when I tell her I think she wouldn't be a very good wife."

Still, as much as the jerk is king in the dating scene, some women think New York may just be immune to his ruse. As Michel points out, "If you're an unattractive guy and you insult a model or other beautiful woman in New York, why is she going to sit there and take that? They'll just pelt you with ice cubes and wait for someone handsome or famous to buy them a drink."

Self-Explanitory

2006-02-24T13:31:00.000-05:00

I'm A Self Absorbed Fuck, That's Why I Blog

2006-02-16T22:59:00.000-05:00

I've haven't had many dis posts, but I've feel I've shat on the Village Voice blogs perhaps more than I should (though I maintain that some cases deserve to be shat upon). However, my old friend Tom recently posted a memorial to Jay Dee where an interesting comment was left:

It's a shame that Jay didn't get press like this while he was alive. If you weren't a fan of his up until Saturday, why bother writing a posthumous tribute? You're not honoring him by critiquing his work, you're only honoring yourself. Let the man rest in peace. The greatness and honesty of his work speaks for itself, which is more that yours or any other insincere blog tribute could ever say.

I will give Tom some credit; I really don't think he was insincere in his tribute. I've known the guy, cripes, seven or so years now, and (in this case) do not doubt his motives for a moment. However, it does say a lot about the blogosphere, doesn't it?

Are You Crapping Me?

2006-02-05T12:03:00.000-05:00

www.areyoucrappingme.com

1) Restaurant Reviews - MONSTER JAM
2) Album Reviews - Jam
3) David Bowie Album Review - Crap!
4) A Million Nuggets Reviews - Boring Crap!
5) Concept - Jam

JAM TO CRAP SCORE: (5/15) -*33.3%*

reviewed by: No One Cares About Your Fucking Blog

Pitchforkmedia.com Proves Equally Annoying In The Non-Digital World

2006-02-03T00:46:00.000-05:00

And the award for douchbaggery goes to:

For those of you that missed The Plug Awards, you probably missed this guy making a jackass out of himself. Apparently, he writes for the Village Voice and Pitchforkmedia.com, and he also thinks he's funny. In reality, reading poorly from an article in the New Yorker when you are supposed to be making an awards announcement is just annoying.

Update: I got a very nice link from Brooklyn Vegan about this. I've also gotten a few questions about this whole incident, as apparently I am the first person to blog about it (my theory being he doesn't deserve credit for this asshat of a stunt on a blog anyone actually reads). He opened up with the talk of having fun at Plug, but wanting to address something more serious. After an oh-so-tasteful reference to Hurricane Katrina, he went into the New Yorker piece. The article was about Pit Bulls. The text of the article he read from can currently be found HERE.

The State Of The Union Is Worse Than We Thought

2006-01-31T23:09:00.000-05:00

The following phrase was actually said during the President's State Of The Union this evening:

...human-animal hybrids...

I'm glad Bush is tackling these pressing issues, but something tells me he may just be watching a bit too much of the Sci-Fi Channel.

Absolute Nought

2006-01-28T13:33:00.000-05:00

I was tempted for a while to keep this blog only about musicial encounters, but some people are just asking for it. So brings us to the case of our latest attack.

It's one thing to blog about the mundane aspects of your life, but, damn, how fucking mundane can you get. Here is a simple list of but a few things no one cares about:

How your life is like a Talking Heads song.
How you managed to get up a whole seven minutes before your alarm clock went off.
Your hard-on for Mega Man 2.

Actually, I'm going to interupt this list for a moment, as there's a large problem here. I is not the only word in English that requires capitalization. You just aren't that important, I'm sorry. It's one thing if you are one of those lazy-ass fucks who don't capitalize ANYTHING, but it's a whole other where you feel the need to capitalize the most ego-oriented word and NOTHING else. Do us all a favor on our eyes; there are grammar rules for a reason. Go back to high school.

Sorry, ahem...

I will, however, recomend the entry from Wednesday, January 25, 2006, where he talks about holding back his "lady friend's" (his choice of words not mine) hair while she pukes into waste basket. For closure on this, be sure to check out the Saturday, January 28, 2006, entry. Remember, it's sweet to hold someone's hair back while puking, if you have a lame ass blog where you whine about being all "emo" (again, his choice of words), maybe, just maybe, you should expect emo things to happen to you.

http://absolutenought.blogspot.com/

It's Time To Party With Andrew W.K....At A Pizza Place???

2006-01-17T18:34:00.000-05:00

For those of you that don't know, Two Boots is a pizza place as well as a movie theatre...which makes this all the more amazing:

Rocker Andrew W.K. in person at the Pioneer Theater February 3 + 4 with new film ANDREW W.K.: WHO KNOWS?

Detroit rock impresario Andrew W.K. burst onto the music scene in 2000 with the EPs Girls Own Juice and Party Til You Puke, shooting to stardom with his signature hard-rockin’ pop metal and a trailer-punk image. Soon he was signed to a major label and opening for the Foo Fighters, determined to reach new levels of raw excitement, pure energy, and complete confusion. A.W.K. enthralled audiences across the globe, and his followup releases, Party Hard and I Get Wet, cemented his reputation as "the king of party music." This new film, ANDREW W.K.: WHO KNOWS? documents his first four years and includes narration by Andrew W.K. himself, who will appear in person at both shows!

(dir. M. Manrike, 75 mins, 2006)

Showtimes: Friday, Feb 3 @ 11pm, Saturday, Feb 4 @ 11pm

The press release originally said Feb 2 and 3rd, but it also said Friday and Saturday...on the Two Boots website, it looks like it's the 3rd and 4th. Two Boots is located at: 155 East 3rd Street (between Avenues A and B) , New York, NY

Let The Bitchfest Begin

2006-01-14T19:17:00.000-05:00

I'm convinced over a long enough timespan every writer will fall into the "I'm right and you're wrong" syndrome. I have fallen into this trap long before my first post went up on this blog; fortunately I am dramaticly aware of the irony of the fact that I am calling people wrong while my own tastes are, at best, questionable.

I was reading Tom's blog the other day, and he brought up many irrelevant points about awards shows, but he also brought up a few good ones. We can assume he just may be ignorant of the situation between the The New Pantheon Music Prize and the Shortlist Music Prize. It is a carbon copy because it's SUPPOSED to be a carbon copy, created by many of the same people.

I find it interesting that people like Tom are so critical of the Grammys and yet so accepting of the Oscars (though if I recall, we were both pretty upset when Bjork was snubbed for Best Actress in Dancer In the Dark). It's a phenomenon that no one remembers the Oscars fucking up (go through a list and REALLY look at how many films you've seen), but people seem to remember the Grammys. So, on the note of positivity, I would like to say I am very happy that Beck has won a Grammy. (Oh, yeah, and "Weird" Al can say he is a multi-Grammy award winner.)

I could go on here (and I could start another paragraph with the word "I"), but I think the most telling comes from this little bit: My roommate Andrew Parks and Riff Raff are both Plug Advisory Board members; no one asked me so fuck people. Wow, first he rant about how this awards are bullshit and noone cares about them, then his TRUE feelings come out. Basicly, he's a crybaby. When he asks, "Who really gives a fuck?" His answer should be, "I DO!!!" Yeah, I'm sure the Plug Awards want some whiney asshole on their nominating board, who self-admits he really doesn't even understand the rules anyway. Seriously, think about it.

Like Shooting Fish In A Fucking Barrel

2006-01-12T01:03:00.000-05:00

I'm finally taking the time to turn this blog into exactly what I want it to be; the opportunity to poke fun at other online blogs (aka crap). Now, first and foremost is www.pitchforkmedia.com. Now, many refer to this as simply "Pitchfork," but let's try to type that as our URL and we get something a little different.

How relevant is www.pitchforkmedia.com anymore? It seems to lose indie clout by the day, and it seems everytime I turn around, someone else is poking fun at this once prominant website. In fact, as I was telling someone I was going to take a few pokes at the indie-site today, I was laughed at, "Well, that's like shooting fish in a fucking barrel." So be it. Let us not forget, www.pitchforkmedia.com is like the ultimate blog, so it's a good starting point.

www.Pitchforkmedia.com decided to review the Morningwood record today, and for the life of me, I can't figure out why. First off, I'm not here to defend Morningwood (though for disclosure's sake, I will state that Chantel did hit on me via The Onion Personals back in 2003). I didn't particularly like this record, I thought it sucked a lot of the fun out the Morningwood that I remembered after seeing them live--also back in 2003 (the fun later seemed sucked out of their live show too this past summer at Sirenfest). However, this www.pitchforkmedia.com review falls not so much under the category of review, as it does "Hey, I'm an indie snob who feels like being a jackass."

It always seems that when www.pitchforkmedia.com is looking for something clever to say, they end up just sounding mean and ignorant. "The reality is, cutting a decent record takes more than a kooky stageshow and an insatiable urge to embarrass yourself." It also takes more than a douchebag with a keyboard and an internet connection to make a publication (and, yes, that IS intended to sound justa s mean and ignorant). Rock's history is FILLED with "handclaps, call-and-response vocals, and dumb cheerleader cadences." I guess too much Sufjan Stevens and Fiery Furnaces up your ass makes you forget that some music is just silly.

Perhaps www.pitchforkmedia.com is trying to avoid what happened to Roger Ebert and Little Nicky, where he said, "This is horrible, but the sad thing is it just may be the best film Adam Sandler ever made" (Movie trailers shortened it to, "Roger Ebert says, '...The best film Adam Sandler ever made'"). By making sure every single line is completely snarky and insulting, sure it may be tired to read, but at least you will avoid any possible part of your review being misrepresented.

Devin Davis @ Mo Pitkins, November 19, 2005

2005-11-22T23:02:00.001-05:00

Lonely People Of The World Unite! ended up being one of my favorite records of 2005. I really can't explain how the soft spoken, non-assuming Devin Davis managed to win me over, but somehow he did. The whole singer/songwriter thing usually doesn't vibe with me. Perhaps his pure heart comes through on the record in ways I simply can't put into words.

I had the opportunity to meet Devin very briefly at CMJ this year. He seemed to want to avoid conversation and didn't have a lot to say. When I ran into him at Mo Pitkins, I was surprised when he remembered my name...my full name (first and last, I don't have an easy last name, folks).

I had seen Devin before with a full band and it's a little better than solo, but this was also a very special show where all the acts were playing sans band, so I sucked it up and enjoyed. Also disappointing was not seeing him use the theremin despite it being set up right next to him on the stage (he might've used it when I snuck away to the bathroom...enough free Red Stripe will do that to you, which is another reason I can't complain too much).

Throughout the set Devin's eyes remain closed, and he seems very focused on the task at hand. In those cases when he needs to muster up some louder vocals, he face looks in pain. There's something moving about the way Devin seems to need to dig deep down into himself to get his music out, yet offers nothing but transparency and honesty in his music and his personality. Despite this diachotomous* nature, or more likely because of it, Devin Davis ends up being one of those singer/songwriters that doesn't annoy the fuck out of me.

*Sometimes we writers use big words just to make ourselves feel smart and stuff.

Neko Case @ Joe's Pub, November 17, 2005

2005-11-17T21:41:00.000-05:00

Neko Case is probably most famous as a member of the pop band, The New Pornographers, but over the past few years she's struck out on her own an made a name for herself as an alt-country singer/songwriter. I had the opportunity to catch The New Pornographers' Bowery Ballroom show at this year's CMJ (without Neko, as it seems she's only in the band in the studio and doesn't tour with them anymore), and I found myself asking a similar set of questions after Neko's show at Joe's Pub as I did after the Bowery show.

Why isn't Neko Case exploding all over the place? Why is she considered an "indie rock" artist? Now, don't get me wrong, this music isn't exactly my thing. I was even a little bored at the show; however, the songs I heard seemed like they could be as huge on country radio as they were on college radio...And a trillion other mainstream radio genres (what do they call it now, Adult Contemporary Hits Radio?). Maybe Anti doesn't have the power to push their artists onto pop radio, but pop radio needs to listen up.

The crowd ranged from young to old, from hip to er, not so hip; even the venue staff on hand seemed transfixed by Neko's performance, but as I looked around the crowd I noticed there did seem to be a large number of females (hey, I notice these kind of things, I am recently single). This brought me to a revelation. Earlier in the year, I had heard that radio simply abandoned the female demographic. Apparently some marketing asshole believes that testosterone driven 18-34 year olds have money to spend on things music related while estrogen driven 18-34 year olds must spend things related to, I don't know, ponies, rainbows, and Lifetime. Am I suggesting a vast conspiracy against estrogen? Yeah, probably.

I kind of wish I was more familar with Neko Case so I could describe the show a little better, though I'm not sure it would've helped since apparently she played a lot of new material. There was also a lot of talk about french fries (though I left before the encore, she seemed hesitant about playing the "song about french fries to the tune of 'Born To Be Wild'"). Does that make any sense? Or maybe it all makes perfect sense as the quirkiness is what turns country into alt-country/indie rock.

Quintron @ Some Loft Space, November 12, 2005

2005-11-14T22:45:00.000-05:00

The first thing you will probably notice that sets this blog apart from the one I posted earlier is the lack of pictures. It's not that I didn't want to take pictures, it's just that this show was, uh, rather crazy to say the least...more on that in a big.

One of the bands to open up was Aa (it's not pronounced Aaaaah!). I've seen Aa a couple of times now, but the only time I actually thought they sounded good was at a show were everyone else said the sound was horrible. This show has a lot of visuals like people dancing in sheets (maybe they were supposed to be ghosts)...unfortunately, I couldn't really SEE exactly what this spectacle was.

Following Aa was some marching band. My god, was this annoying. After pushing an already overcrowded bunch back, the band proceeds to do their marching band thing. ::Yawn:: I've seen it before; I'm over this idea. No, we aren't going to dance...we're just fucking sick and tired. It's late. We want to see the band we've come to see...........

Quintron. Okay, okay, so after seeing Quintron and Miss Pussycat I'm making some new rules. for shows.

One (For the band playing). Your friends have probably seen you so many times, they will probably see you again. There's no reason to call them to the front of the room at the beginning of your set.

Two (For audience members). Do not promote your show by being some sort of fat asshole who decides to semi-mosh through the crowd throwing flyers out. I was actually considering attending the Vietnam show tonight at Scenic...until I realized it was the douchebag throwing out little pieces of paper were for that show. Call me petty.

Three. There are reasons clubs have fire codes on maximum capacity. Apparently, stages also form a useful function in clubs. Who knew?

Four. $10 is too much for a shitty loft party.

Over all, though, I did enjoy Quintron's set...even if it was another band I didn't actually get to see that evening. I probably would've been better seeing him at the Mercury Lounge the next night instead. Oh, well.

Spinto Band @ Piano's, November 11, 2005

2005-11-12T14:31:00.000-05:00

Welcome to NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOUR FUCKING BLOG.

I guess I should start off explaining why I've decided to start a new blog. It's not as if I don't have an already existing blog, but you know what? This is going to be more than that. Sure, I might post stuff here from there, but it's so narrow over there, and it's on myspace; governed by the rules of myspace; and full of login's and shittiness, etc. I can expand this little corner of the Internet to whatever I want, and, fuck, if you continue to read it like the sucker you are, I will feel a certain sense of acomplishment. There will be spelling and grammatical errors. This is not my entrire life; however, I will excessively use the word "I" as this is meant to be poor journalism. I might consider you extremely insane for coming back time after time, but, hell, why not? Everyone wants to read about what I have to say, right? I'm the center of the fucking universe, and my opinions mean more than yours...that's what blogs are all about. This one will be no different, and much like the rest of them, no one will care.

So, onto the post. Last night I went to go see The Spinto Band at Pianos. Pianos is a very shitty venue. I never like going there. It was insanely crowded, and I had hoped Spinto had outgrown the small venue since packing a CMJ show there. It was a little miserable being trapped like a sardine, but I really wanted to check out the show.

Enough about the shitty venue, onto the band. I've actually known The Spinto Band for a while don't remember how I actually first met these guys (more specificly one of the guys, who I don't even think is in the band anymore)...probably something They Might Be Giants related. They opened up for the band I used to manage in Syracuse. Anyway, the influence of the quirky-rock duo shows through with The Spinto's with toy instruments(not pictured), kazoos (not pictured), and bouncing energy (pictured right).

The band is basicly doing some gigs to show-off to record labels after the release of their indie label debut on Bar None (though the brits are eating them up like no one's business). The band fit with their label Bar None about as nice and nicely as they fit at Pianos; they are ready to break out onto something bigger, but it has quite happened yet.

It'd be great to see a quirky rock band being on a major label again (fingers crossed). It's been a while since bands like They Might Be Giants (sorry to reference them again) or Presidents of the United States of America made an impact. But does any label really know how to handle a quirky rock band anymore? Emo is the new big thing in rock for the majors; that hasn't been cool for years and they barely know how to sell that. Let alone, major labels barely know how to sell rock in general, and the quirkiest thing I've seen come out lately from a major is The Bloodhound Gang. That's sad; that's really sad. To put it mildly, I have hope for future signings, I'm just not sure I have hope for future profits.