Feeling Fatigued

Pictured above, Craig, Bowen & Kristy show how wearing an army field jacket can make you depressed (while Tom shows that classic black is faboo).

Well Said.

Spotted in a midtown office bathroom (not Toucan Cleric's Fun):

Why I Still Think The Devil Won the Fiddle Fight In "The Devil Went Down To Georgia"

The Charlie Daniels Band's "The Devil Went Down To Georgia" is a classic in popular country song storytelling. Since its 1979 release, the song hit #3 on the Billboard Hot 100 and is listed by the RIAA as the top selling single of all time with a U.S. state's name in the title (?). But what I'm disputing is not the success of the song, but the outcome, which I feel is total bullshit.

The terms of the fiddle contest between the Devil and this "Johnny" character are well documented in the first verse:

Johnny you rosin up your bow and play your fiddle hard.
'Cos hells broke loose in Georgia and the devil deals it hard.
And if you win you get this shiny fiddle made of gold.
But if you lose, the devil gets your soul.

So they get started and the Devil gets first turn. But what he failed to do here before playing is set the terms of the JUDGING of the contest- just those two are going to judge who plays better? Why not get a third party to officiate the proceedings? Hellllooooo? The Devil could have gone even further and have paid off a judge. Even if that dumb hick Johnny played terribly, he always had a guaranteed 50% vote. So the Devil is doomed to never prevail already.

But then there's the actual quality of the fiddle playing themselves. When the Devil rosined up his bow, frickin "FAHR" flew from his fingertips! That's showmanship! That shit has since then inspired KISS, Gwar and The Jonas Brothers! And not only that, the Devil brings in accompaniment:

And he pulled the bow across his strings and it made an evil hiss.
Then a band of demons joined in and it sounded something like this.

And the song the Devil plays is all minor keys. Over a haunted house bassline and rhythm guitar, he does a very Eddie Van Halen virtuoso solo, complete with plucking and screeching from the bow. Truly genre-pushing stuff. It's the kind of hard rock awesomeness that gave birth to heavy metal. Fucking Black Sabbath. Peter Travers from Rolling Stone hailed the Devil's playing as "capturing the teenage angst of suburban youth and symbolizing the breakout from the stranglehold of disco music and the salvation from the self-congratulatory babbling of progressive rock."


As for "Johnny's" performance, I'd rather not talk about. It's expected bluegrass fiddling, and not even that proficient; it's the kind of workmanlike humdrum major key fiddling you'd expect at a county fair in the North or a school-sponsored hoe down. Listen to superior musicians like Kenny Baker, Bobby Hicks, or even Sara Watkins from the contemporary band Nickel Creek to get a sense of what real traditional fiddling should sound like. Johnny's is fucking amateur hour.

So call me a Satanist if you want, but I'm basing my opinion purely on musical merit. Also, the Civil War and the NCAA Tournament teach us that hillbillies always lose.

Get Well Soon, Dammit

Found on the trash by the curb: an oversized 'get well' card that says "nobody misses you more than the 16 reports on your computer that won't get completed by themselves, hint hint."

Special Guest Entry

Editor's Note: Beth Stone wanted to write an EADJ entry and EADJ pretty much blew off the suggestion until she actually sent in a fully-written bit. And she kept hounding us until we agreed to run it, even though we only pretended that we thought it was funny. So here it is. "Enjoy."


"Lost: A Horomonal Perspective"

The reasons for Lost's gravitational pull on viewers have been eagerly debated in the blogosphere. Perhaps it's unraveling the puzzles of how the characters get on, then off, then back on the island. Perhaps it's reveling in the rich basckstories. Perhaps it's rooting for love to prevail, with Des and Penny, Kate and Jack (and Sawyer and Juliet), Jin and Sun. I offer a theory that suggests that Lost is perhaps not all that different from, say, One Tree Hill. In two words: eye candy.


The producers have recognized the need to fulfill the TV watching desires of teenage girls (and ahem, mid-20s women) by feeding us with tantalizing moments of horomonal chocolate. With Sawyer, we eagerly anticipate his next half naked moment, though we also consider writing a kind but forceful letter to the producers with an Ab Master enclosed, suggesting Sawyer work a little harder on his pooch before the next shirtless scene. With Des, we close our eyes to hear the soothing words of "brutha" and "eyeeeeland" in his silky native tongue, and we contemplated licking the screen when he visited Oxford in his sexy scarf and aviators. With Daniel, we dream of a crossover episode with Beauty and Geek, giving him the makeover he so desperately needs to match his outer beauty with his emo-hotness. And the bear cage scene... that's soft core porn done right.


So the next time you watch Lost, let your mind wander, your eyes widen, your tongue hang out ever so slightly, and think about the gift of constant man sweat, bearded scruffiness, and emotional nakedness that JJ Abrams brought to the world. It'll hurt your brain a lot less than trying to figure out what the hell the show is really about.

Thank you.

Beth

BFFS 4EVS!

Tom and I were having lunch at this Mexican place in the Greenwich Village area, when we spotted this fantastic foursome:


None of these girls were talking to each other, but ALL FOUR OF THEM were texting on their phones. The only time they'd put their phones down was to reach for tortilla chips. Then moments later, they'd go back to their phones.


I was slick and took photos of them through the mirrored wall. (That's Tom's arm.) Like, who were they talking to? People they would rather be with? Were they responding to an online poll about which of them is "the Carrie?"


I guess their one saving grace is that none of them seemed offended by the others being rude with their phone the whole meal. Shit, I'd be surprised if any of them remembered having this meal at all. "This was fun. Hey, let's do this again real soon, okay."

Citywide Alert

-------------------------------------Wednesday, 3/4/09
The New York Department of Public Flyaways and Frizzies
Memo For Immediate Release


11:33:45 AM--------------

THE NY DEPT OF PUBLIC FLYAWAYS AND FRIZZIES HAS ANNOUNCED A PUBLIC DANGER IN THE CITY OF NEW YORK. SOURCES IN COLLABORATION WITH THE NYDPFF HAVE CONFIRMED THE EXISTENCE OF ERRANT BALLS OF HAIR, OR "HAIRBALLS," CIRCULATING THROUGHOUT THE CITY. REFER TO PHOTOS 1A-3A FOR VISUAL CONFIRMATION, AIDED BY RED ARROWS THAT INDICATE THE DANGER.


THESE "HAIRBALLS" APPEAR SIMILAR TO TUMBLEWEEDS AND DRIED BUSHES FOUND IN ARIZONA AND UTAH. HOWEVER, INSTEAD OF BEING MADE OF DRIED PLANT MATTER, THESE APPEAR TO CONSIST OF HAIR EXTENSIONS AND DETACHED HAIR WEAVES.


THESE "HAIRBALLS," -OR AS SOMEONE CLEVER IN OUR DEPARTMENT REFERRED TO IT DURING BREAK- "TUMBLEWEAVES," ARE NOT KNOWN TO BE DANGEROUS. HOWEVER, THEY DO NOT APPEAR TO BE SAFE, EITHER.


THE NYDPFF URGES THE PUBLIC NOT TO APPROACH, TOUCH, OR CATCH TO THESE "TUMBLEWEAVES" (IT IS A PRETTY CATCHY NAME, HOWARD). THEY ARE INSTRUCTED TO INSTEAD NOTIFY THE NYDPFF BY DIALING "811."


ANY NEW YORK RESIDENTS OR VISITORS WHO ENCOUNTER FUTURE "TUMBLEWEAVES" ARE URGED TO STAY OUT OF WHATEVER TRAJECTORY THEY ARE ROLLING AND TO STAY INDOORS. LIKE MAYBE CATCH THAT NEW TYLER PERRY MOVIE, "MADEA GOES TO JAIL." THAT LOOKS KIND OF FUNNY.

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