Dumb Thing I Love – Karaoke

I have to admit that it took me nearly three months of frequenting a karaoke bar in Costa Mesa, California before I ultimately butchered my very first song.

It was the summer of 2005, and I was spending that summer in Orange County between my freshman and sophomore years of college. I made some new friends early on during my stint there, and they took me to a karaoke bar once a week, seeing as I had nothing better to do. The host was a charming man, whose name I can’t recall, but he precisely like “Weird” Al Yankovic. He had egged me on to sing week after week, and each time I would politely decline, opting instead to watch a friend sing Madonna’s “Starlight” or some shit like that. On my final visit to this bar, I sang Elvis Costello’s “(What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace, Love, and Understanding,” and, man, was that a train wreck. I sang my through that like a bumbling jackass. But my friends were there, patting my back, saying, “Good job.”

Not nearly this cool. But close.

And that’s what karaoke is all about, in a nutshell. I now host a karaoke night at a bar on a weekly basis, and have been doing so for nearly a year. Up to that point, I was frequenting karaoke spots around San Diego for years and rarely had anything less than a blast. Funny how that happens, sometimes.

So am I something of a karaoke expert? Yes and no. I’ve sung hundreds, if not over 1,000, karaoke songs by my estimation. But my voice hasn’t become amazing or anything; I would still make Josh Groban cringe if he were to walk into my karaoke night (Hey, it could happen!). Am I a “karaoke jockey,” or “KJ”? I suppose so. But I really dislike that term and I never qualify myself as one. Sometimes I’ll see rankings of the best KJs in the city, and I’m glad that my name is nowhere on these lists. If it were, it would be on the bottom of that totem pole. I take a stupid pride in the fact that I run a less hackneyed, more down-to-Earth room. Jokes and fun are still had, mind you. Here’s the part where I get off of my soapbox.

It’s understandable that people have reservations about going up in front of a room filled with strangers and singing, “Gin and Juice.” I get it. The thing is, nobody in the crowd is an A&R rep from Atlantic Records looking for the next Selena Gomez. If you nail a song, you’ll earn yourself a hearty applause. If you don’t do so well, or if you’re just not loud enough with the microphone, people will go mind their own business and politely clap. It’s a win-win situation! Just remember that you will NOT be this guy (unless you ACTUALLY are this guy, reading my blog, which would be highly improbable and brilliant at the same time):

But before you laugh too hard at this handsome specimen, guess what? He still has the cadence of the lyrics DOWN.

What really takes a lot of chutzpah is to improvise upon an already established classic. But this is strictly a move for the veterans out there. It must be calculated. It must be consistent. It must be at least a little bit funny. It must be convincing. Otherwise, it will prove to be disastrous. Again, you will not be booed. Unless you’re certain you can pull off something like this, just wait on it for a little while:

The true beauty of karaoke is that it will be whatever you want it to be. If you want to pretend that you’re auditioning for American Idol, then have at it, Ruben Studdard (God, what happened to him?). If you want to go up there with nine of your girlfriends and sing “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun,” eh, do that, I guess. Want to sing every Enrique Iglesias song that’s available at a given karaoke spot? Fuckin’ do it, man. If you want to hang with your friend, have some drinks and make snide remarks to each other about the people that are actually singing, you can do that, also (you douchebag).

What I’ve taken from doing karaoke all of these years is increased sociability, and an acceptance of failure. The first point should speak for itself, but regarding falling face-first into a pile of metaphorical shit: it’s good for you. Failure at singing a Wham! song can be treated much like any life failure. Go find your friends. Let them tell you that it’s gonna be alright. Laugh about it. And go sing again.

Just don’t sing “Don’t Stop Believin’,” for the love of God.

Steve Perry, you can go STRAIGHT TO HELL, BROTHER.

Clueless Vs. She’s All That

My good friend Laura and I have been having a passive-aggressive debate on social networks and in person about which of these films is worthiest of the title of, “Best Teen Movie.” This is a very important matter.

Before I go any further, honorable mentions go to:  10 Things I Hate About You, Heathers, Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Better Off Dead, Can’t Hardly Wait, Cruel Intentions, Varsity Blues, and Bring It On. You were all great films, but could not make the cut here. One that doesn’t get an honorable mention is American Pie. Totally overrated in every measurable way.

Congratulations, Jason Biggs. You slammed your penis into an apple pie. That isn't terribly funny. And that will be your legacy as an actor.

I have long been a firm believer that She’s All That is the best movie in this realm of cinema, which has proven crucial to the upbringing of anybody born in the mid-eighties. The wonderful thing about these kinds of flicks is that they are nowhere near a realistic “high school experience.” They must be considered in the same realm as science fiction or fantasy. You have to let these works live and breathe in their own crazy, outlandish and silly universes. That is the only way to enjoy them. “But that would NEVER happen to a seventeen year-old!” Well, that’s kinda the point, dude.

Let’s dive into this debate. I recently watched Clueless to ready myself to write this. As a homework assignment, of sorts. I clearly know how to prioritize things in my life.

Clueless is a damn good teen movie, there’s no denying it. Alicia Silverstone plays Cher Horowitz, which is a pretty fucking awesome name for a protagonist. Cher is something of an anti-hero. She plays cupid for a couple of her teachers, just so that she can negotiate better grades from each of them. A savvy move, I will give her that, but her motivations are suspect. Those motivations are reinforced when she attempts to turn the uncool new student, Tai, into something of a popular girl. The plan backfires, as Tai becomes the queen of the school’s social world. It is only when Cher fails her driving exam (she hit affluent, white girl abyss!) that she wises up, and begins to live with more altruism. This process culminates with her falling in love with her ex-stepbrother, with whom she had been quarreling with the whole time. Remember what I said about letting these movies exist with their own rules of logic?

What stuck out to me in Clueless were the monologues provided by Cher throughout. It was used to great effect when, while ruminating her downtrodden situation and regrets, she notices a window display of some clothing and wonders if they carry her size. Paul Rudd plays a brilliant foil to Cher as Josh, the annoying, hyper-conscious ex-stepbrother who possesses more pomposity than higher education. Coolio’s “Rollin’ With My Homies” was used to fantastic effect during a pivotal party scene. I love how Cher was absolutely terrified at the prospect of being in a place as benign as the San Fernando Valley.

But, perhaps this is my y-chromosome speaking, this movie doesn’t offer me much of a fantastical escape. I have never really felt the need to go on a soul-searching shopping spree on Rodeo Drive. I passed my driving test with flying colors and I can’t relate to Cher’s crushing defeat in that arena. And it kinda pissed me off a little that Cher tried to steer Tai away from a skater-bro played by Breckin Meyer. I was in a skate crew in middle school and high school! What the hell, Cher? We were cool guys, and always knew how to have a good time. That part stung a bit.

Now we move onto She’s All That. This movie deploys the nearly identical technique of turning the nerdy girl into a desirable one, but in this case, it is done with much more malice.

Let me get this out of the way, real quickly- Paul Walker was cast perfectly in this movie. He has the kind of face you want to punch, right? In this movie, his character has that kind of face and that kind of attitude. The role of Dean Sampson Jr. was the one that Walker was born to play.

Dean and Zack Siler (Freddie Prinze Jr.) wager if recently-dumped Zach can transform any girl at the school into the Prom Queen. Dean finds Laney Boggs (Rachel Leigh Cook) and chooses her to be the target of Zack’s affections. Zack groans in terror. But, uh, WHY? She’s ugly? Again, the movie has its own rules, etc.

The plot is predictable and doesn’t need a great deal of explanation. It is the minutiae that makes this movie the masterstroke that it is. Here’s a brief rundown: Matthew Lillard is an ex-Real World star who does a mesmerizing dance to Rick James’s “Give it to Me Baby,” while wearing a silver silk shirt and a pooka-shell necklace. I rather like that Zach is the captain of the soccer team, as it would have been too cliché for him to have been the quarterback of the football squad. Laney Boggs’s art doesn’t show much promise…but then again, what high schooler’s art does? Kieran Culkin rules in just about every movie he’s in, and he plays a dope-ass little brother in this one (but, Kirsten Dunst’s little brother in Bring It On was better). A collection of hip-hop loving students are shown in a scene beatboxing and freestyling about the intensifying Prom Queen race. Seriously.

What really puts this over the top for me was the inclusion of Usher. Usher was ostensibly a student at the school, but he had to have had the chillest schedule of the entire student body. He’s not really ever in class. Listed in the credits as “Campus DJ,” he makes the morning announcements at Whatever High. The majority of his broadcasts are simply updates about who is leading the Prom Queen race. I mean, did any of the students at this school care about anything else? College plans? Hobbies? How to get decent weed?

Improbably, Campus DJ has taught the senior class a synchronized dance sequence to be performed at the prom. The fact that it features the most 1999ish song possible seals it for me. Usher’s finest moment as a thespian (“Okay everybody, split like the Red Sea!” at 0:47) is here, for your viewing pleasure:

I did not go to my school’s prom, because I fancied myself a rebel. Only later did I realize that I was a moody prick when I was eighteen. And so I think I still give the victory to She’s All That, based solely on subjective reasons. When you look at it from the objective sense, both of these movies are equal turds. And I’m nothing close to a cinema snob. But I can watch these movies over and over again, and that’s got to count for something. That, and the fact that She’s All That grossed over $103 million at the box office.

Shoot me some comments if you agree with me. Shoot me some comments if you disagree, even though you’re wrong.

I think I laid out a thorough breakdown for you readers, and to Laura, I say this: She’s All That is totally so much better than Clueless. And with anything you may say to me in response, I reply with…

Dumb Thing I Love – Sega Genesis

You people and your first-person shooters. I’m going to see how long I can go before I ever have to play Modern Warfare 3.  I can only handle so many games in that style. Has that wheel been so radically re-invented that people deem it essential to line up outside of Game Stop around midnight to drop sixty dollars on another FPS? I don’t get it. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not strictly a retro gamer. I don’t scoff at the idea of a saved game. I have a modern system. Though I do find myself much prouder of the fact that I own a Sega Genesis that is in prime, working condition.

It’s probably fair to say that I’m a fan of most relics from the early 90s. So it isn’t such a huge stretch for me to be a raging fan of the Genesis. The only reason I’m finding myself compelled to write about it is that I enjoy this 16-bit console much more than anybody should. And I don’t even own Shaq Fu (yet).

There is a beautiful simplicity in a controller that has only buttons A,B and C along with the directional pad. It’s something elegant, I would say. There is a drawback to a controller like this, though; the cords connecting the controller to the console are only six feet long or so. But I’m allowed to sit close to the television these days, anyhow. I’m twenty-six years old, not six. I can do whatever I want. I can eat ice cream for breakfast, lunch AND dinner if I desired. And if I had no regard for my health. But take THAT, mom and dad!

Oh, what’s that you said? Your used copy of L.A. Noire cost you $45 at the video game store? Well, I picked up five Sega games for fifteen dollars. But, because Genesis games are affordable now as much so as when you had a weekly allowance, it doesn’t mean that all of the games are childish. Remember, this is a system that featured the Mortal Kombat series. A violent moment in a Sega Genesis game has been immortalized in a scene from Swingers.

NHL 95 is the version of that game that I still play (the one with no fighting, as Jon Favreau laments above). That game still elicits eerily similar outbursts between me and my friends when we play this. There was even a period in college where my former roommate and I would play many best-of-seven Stanley Cup series. We logged the outcomes on a sheet of paper, and we must have played approximately thirty of these Stanley Cups. In a span of a few months. To reiterate: We spent a tremendous chunk of our breaks from school and our weekends playing a hockey game that was twelve or thirteen years outdated. To this day, the battles on the various sports games that I have are bitter, tense and way more fun than you could imagine. So what if you can play a life-like zone defense on NBA 2K12? You can’t play as Muggsy Bogues, and you can’t do a double front-flip slam dunk with a flaming basketball. These moments of beauty rival those of your favorite record, and are still alive in my NBA Jam Tournament Edition cartridge.

Alas, technology marches on, almost always for the better. I love my XBox 360 and, admittedly, I play it more than the Genesis. I guess you can still get those “Sega Genesis Classics!” compilation packs for your modern system. And they still crank out a variety of Sonic the Hedgehog games (Sega is now exclusively a software company. Their last system, the Dreamcast, was something of a failure and led to their demise in the hardware category). But, you cannot take a modern Sonic disc, place it into the Sonic & Knuckles cartridge, and play the same game with an entirely new character (the world’s most famous cartoon echidna). There remains a visceral joy in placing one Sonic cartridge into another, and it has nothing to do with intercourse. Though, the experience of playing Sega Genesis for close to twenty years approaches the orgasmic.

Cool Song I Enjoy I

Silky smooth.

Dumb Thing I Love – My PowerPoint Presentation from College

This PowerPoint presentation was for an international literature course I took in my junior year. It’s approximately five years old. I can’t remember why I did the slideshow this way. Maybe I was trying to be funny. Perhaps I was trying to make a mockery of the assignment.

Before you ask: I got a 95% on this project. No bullshit.

ZIMBABWE

(After clicking that, click the link on the following page to download/view.)

As you can likely gather, The report was essentially a brief history on an African nation of our choosing. I chose Zimbabwe because Robert Mugabe is downright maniacal, and I wanted to have a picture of him and his eyewear in a school project. The Cecil John Rhodes photo is a good image, too.

I earned the grade I did because I hit all of the necessary criteria as assigned to me. If I can get a solid A on a PowerPoint presentation with a garish, pink-green gradient and horribly formatted .jpg’s, I can accomplish anything on this Earth…

Dumb Thing I Love – Fear of a Black Hat

You can probably surmise that the female posterior is not feared by the protagonists.

I have mixed feelings about the mockumentary as a form; it seems like most successful sitcoms just HAVE to have their “talking heads” moments. I’ll still take that over laugh tracks, but I’ll get back on track here. This is Spinal Tap has got to be the most recognizable mockumentary film, and it is fantastic. But between that and Fear of a Black Hat, I have to give the edge to the latter.

Spinal Tap may be the superior film, but Fear is the more entertaining of the two. A dumb thing I do not love is musical comedy. Never cared about Flight of the Conchords, Tenacious D, etc. The songs in this film are downright hilarious. However, if you dislike or are ignorant about hip hop from 1985-1994, you won’t find these songs the least bit funny. Fortunately for me, I am white and suburban enough in my upbringing to know a disgusting amount about that era of hip-hop. As much as I want to post every music video, I present to you the song that wasn’t actually in the movie, yet is still the most accurate of the satires.

Rusty Cundieff, Mark Christopher Lawrence and Larry B. Scott are uniquely funny in their roles as members of hip-hop trio Niggaz With Hats. Though I have to say that Scott’s star shines the brightest. He plays Tasty Taste, who is the most colorful member of NWH. He gets the best lines (“Do I look like the kind of person who could kill a whole BUNCH OF WHITE MOTHERFUCKERS?!”), he has the best hair (jheri curl) and he’s the most prone to violence. Imagine a weird hybrid of Eazy-E, LL Cool J and Timothy McVeigh. That should give you a pretty solid idea of what Tasty Taste is like. Scott plays his character like a fucking fiddle.

I would dress like Tasty Taste all the time, except I'm not at all down with blackface.

I’m stupidly amused at the fact that NWH releases reactionary records. After a moment where Cundieff’s Ice Cold is hassled by some security guards, the group releases a music video for their song “Fuck the Security Guards.” I’ll give you one guess as to which hip-hop song is parodied in that one.

Other items of note: A Kurt Loder cameo will improve any project, even if that project is the construction of a strip mall. Similar to the way Spinal Tap goes through numerous drummers, NWH can never seem to hang on to a manager for extended period of time. They may have had a hand in some of these cases, however (“If I remember correctly, he ended up murdered.” “…But we wasn’t in town when that shit happened.”). Jike Spingleton is actually a character in this movie.

If you know nothing about early 90s hip-hop, you probably wouldn’t understand any of these jokes. That’s fine. I wouldn’t understand any jokes in a movie that parodied the Smiths and Morrissey (neither would fans of the Smiths and Morrissey). Fear of a Black Hat is by no means a revolutionary flick. I mean, it even says right on the back side of my VHS copy that it is an “homage” to This is Spinal Tap. This movie is a real treat. In the words of my favorite fictitious hip-hop group, “Grab your shit.”

I’ll Bet That You Didn’t Know THIS Existed

 

Says YouTube user gguy699, “pimp shit i’d bump this on the way to a streetfight.” Couldn’t have said it any better myself.

Dumb Thing I Love – Janet Jackson’s “Go Deep” Music Video

A perfectly executed music video, in my estimation. Right at the beginning, the beat is poppin’ and the ‘rents are leaving the house. Son smiles and waves goodbye as the red SUV pulls out of the driveway. TIME TO RAGE. Yeah, whenever my parents left the home and I was by myself, I danced around the house like a jackass for ten minutes. Sure. All the time.

Then the kid really cranks up the party by ordering pizza and watching a Janet music video. Way to party, dude. The doorbell rings, and it’s not the pizza guy! Oh shit! It’s Janet and her ladyfriends! What are the odds? Then Janet just strolls into the house without asking to enter. If Janet Jackson were at my door and wanted in, I wouldn’t be able to get out of the doorway fast enough. But show a little decorum, okay Janet? Some tact would have been nice. I never even really liked it when my best friends came over unannounced. I’d have to tell them, “Yeah, sorry, but I can’t have you come in right now. I’m busy. What am I busy with? Watching R&B music videos and waiting for my pizza to be delivered.”

Boy gets to multitasking pretty hard once the women get comfortable on the couch. He’s calling all (presumably four) of his homeys to COME OVER RIGHT NOW, while making popcorn. What a gentlemanly move. Somehow, some way, 1 cup of popcorn kernels has now overtaken half of the kitchen as popped corn. Some real music video magic right there. In the four minutes it takes to prepare popcorn, Janet has already gotten 60 people to show up at this teenager’s house. UH-OH (I doubt that she personally called the spiky-haired dude at 2:00)!

I feel like this music video really ruined house parties for me. This came out while I was in middle school, and this video had a profound effect on me. My thought process after absorbing this video was something like this: “So this is what partying in high school and college is gonna be like? Gonna be pretty dope!” Turns out I became a total recluse in high school. Now that I’m older, I might as well just throw a party and re-create this video. I’ll have a blender full of mystery alcohol you can drink and leave it by the fridge. And if you aren’t dressed up like it’s 1998…you aren’t getting in.

A lot more shenanigans happen in the latter half of the video, and I will not list all of the dope shit that happens. But the Stair Olympics at 2:56 are pretty sweet, not sure if I’d want to do that if I’m a few drinks deep though.

Janet really takes a liking to this teenage boy. Is it due only to the fact that she got to use his pad to throw a party? Does she want to commit statutory rape? We never find out due to a crazy twist at the end of the video! Turns out Janet Jackson never showed up; Freud would probably have a field day dissecting this music video.

Why do I love this music video? Because this song is a jam. Because I am that teenager in the video (Yes, I actually await to receive kisses the same way he does, and my room is filled with Janet Jackson posters). Because it so so deliciously late-90′s. Because parties like that roll around once in a lifetime. Or once a month, if I plan properly and it’s cool with my roommates.

Dumb List of Cool Shit

Slam dunk contests

Dogs wearing sunglasses
Dogs surfing
Trophies
Champagne celebrations
The 1991 California Angels
Nachos
Sega Genesis

Christopher “Ludacris” Bridges

LUDA!
Writing more long form essays in the future.