Songs. Better yet, lyrics.
I am an avid movie-goer, as has been noted within the virtual pages of my little blog, and therefore see a lot, and I do mean a LOT, of pre-movie commercials. As in Holland these commercials have a tendency to run for months and months, I get a chance to see particular commercials over and over again untill I wake up screaming "DON'T KICK THE LEMONS" at least three times a week.
Now, one of these commercials, that has blessedly stopped running in theatres but is still viewable on television, is a Coca-Cola commercial. As Coke is my first and truest love, I naturally tend to pay attention. And salivate, but I have a hardwood floor so no worries there.
This particular commercial has one of the classic Coke-themes, the one that goes "I'd like to teach the world to sing...in perfect harmony..." all nice and well, untill we consider the line:
"Grow appletrees and honeybees, and snow-white turtledoves."
Aaaaahhh, so sweet. Wrong, obviously, but sweet. Wrong? Yes, wrong. Now I can see how one grows an appletree. No problems there. But honeybees? Is there an honeybee-bush I've missed? And don't get me started on the snow-white turtledoves.
You don't grow birds. You might hatch them, or breed them, or, of you are terrible into the idea of vertical references, you might even raise them. But not grow.
Even considerng this line now, it seems like people are approaching this the wrong way. This whole line will end in tears, I say. Well, tears and a Beekeeper smelling faintly of apples but mostly in birdshit, as he will be covered with it if this is all in the same orchard.
LISTEN to the music you are hearing, people, listen! The song is not only about a melody, it is about the text as well, even more so, I think.
There is a very famous song in Holland, called "De Vlieger" (The kite) in which the singer tells us that his son had his birthday yesterday, and got a kite. He then goes on telling that "the other day" he took his son out to fly the kite.
Now, if his son had that kite as a present YESTERDAY, would "the other day" not be TODAY? I can understand the difficulty of finding words to a melody, fair enough, but it should be possible to do so without, you know, lying or insulting the intelligence of your listeners.
There is an incredible amount of married couples, mostly in America, but I'm sure all over the world, that chose "I will always love you" by either Dolly or Whitney, as the song to play on their wedding day.
I like this. I like the fact that the music you choose reflects the way you feel about each other, I really do.
At the same time I find it sad to herald the divorce first chance you get on the wedding day. Because "I will always love you" is a song about NEVER SEEING EACH OTHER AGAIN.
You might as well've picked "Hit the road, Jack" or "Have to wash that man right out of my hair", allthough that last song can be quite appropriate the next morning, if the groom is a tad enthousiastic.
This is a prime example of why you should listen to the whole song, not just the title or the chorus, before deciding when to use it.
Words, as has been stated before on this blog, are important. And when quoting or using anothers words to express what you can't eloquently express yourself, even more so.
Nobody would pick "the sound of silence" for a commercial advertising car-stereo's, no matter how good the song is and how good it would be to listen to in the car with that stereo. So why do we not listen to our lyrics on very important occassions?
And even worse, why do we not expect the purveyors of our entertainment to hold up a standard of correctness? I understand that entertainment should first be entertaining, but really. is it so difficult to give some use to art?
Off again, but not before the credits: My housemate actually prompted this blog, as the honeybees/turtledove-peeve is hers more than it was mine.
Grtz,
Kevin.
Friday, September 22, 2006
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
This one is not going to be funny
I came across this little movie on the glorious web today;
http://www.yikers.com/video_animals_vs_humans.html
And at first, I had a feeling of righteousness. I like animals way, waaaaay better than I like humans anyways, and this is a good example of some of the animal kingdoms getting their own back.
Getting their own back a bit.
And a very small bit at that.
And then it made me very... very sad. And very angry.
Because if we are fair, most animals we see in that movie will die. Are, even, already dead. The dog biting the television presenter? More than 70% chance it will have been put down within three hours after shooting. The elephants goring people? Most likely killed before their "victim" breathed their last breath. The bulls were mostly bull-fighting and therefore in all probability drugged to within an inch of their lives anyways. The fact that adrenaline and pure blind luck combined into a squoeshed toreador does not mean the beast will live.
There is even a good chance the bear, the gator, the horse and the killer whale in theSeaworld-type setting will be put down, allthough these animals are incredibly expensive. Which in itself is saddening... being expensive is the only way to survine taking your anger out on humanity? Explains why some of us have no qualms about the death penalty, after all, humans cost jack-shit.
I feel truly and socially ineptly happy that I am a white male, from a good and upstanding family, having received a good education, in a good job. Because it means I am worth money, which means that when I snap, I have a good chance of not being put down immediately.
I meant every single word of that last two sentences. Apart from the word "because". I am happy about the things mentioned because they give me a chance to live a life as I want to do. The simple fact that I would've been well within my right to say and mean the last part as well makes it all the more likely that I will, someday, snap.
We live in a world decided by simple laws of evolution, the stronger one lives, the weaker dies. The fastest animals, the most poisonous, the strongest, the teethiest, the ones with horns, these animals are designed by nature to survive over those without teeth, horns, poison, strength of speed.
Guess what, folks, humans are animals without speed, strength, horns, poison or any sort of really usable weaponry. Suuure, we adjusted by finding animals that were easily to domesticate and by inventing weaponry, and more power to us, I say. Evolution is a good thing. In the same light I used to say that humans can't really do anything that goes against evolution, because quite simply all that it entails is getting to the top rung of a ladder we have only the vaguest conception of.
But this evolution has placed me, and my generation with me, in an strange position.
The things happening to our world right now, global warming, decaying glaciers, species going extinct, are all processes we are about 75 years too late in fixing, and also processes we aren't likely to see most effeects of.
Research has proven that we missed our window of opportunity in most world scale problems by about seventy years. All we can now do is limit or delay the damage somewhat, but we also have to understand that the polar ice WILL be gone. Tigers WILL cease to populate the forests, as will panda's. But because we are working hard-ish on delaying it, they will most likely do so in about a hundred years or so.
I am 25 years old. My cells and molecular structure is designed to rapidly deteriorate after 125 years, if I make it that long. Which means that I might see the last Bengal Tiger in captivity. I might have a chance to weep over the news that the last of the great turtles cannot lay fertile eggs in controlled environments. I will have a chance to see clones upon sadly deformed and dying clones of sheep before we decide that it will never be possible to resurrect the Indian Elephant from the last cells of the last bull. (Elephant bulls, that is)
On the same note, living well and looking both ways before I cross the street will give me a chance to be one of the last people out of Venice. This time not because cholera is overtaking the streets, but because the streets are going to be taken over by the sea soon.
I will be able to stand at the rubble of the leaning tower, see what water and heat has done for the Taj Mahal, shudder looking at a London partly submerged in a Thames several sizes too big.
But I will not live to see the real consequences of all of the above. I will not see the population of Gaur and Buffalo rise and overgraze the countryside, with it's own set of problems. I will not see bamboo choke the forests, or watch how shoals of fish become overabundant. I will not see sea grass overgrown, and die, taking with it a mass of species of small fish, not to mention rot and pollute the world's oceans.
And this, even though I can lively imagine all of the above, is exactly what makes environmental health a topic that is strangely far from me. All my best intentions are dwarfed by the sheer helplessness I feel looking at the world around me, and the fact that I won't be really hurt by what is happening. Sure, the sheer waste of seeing some of humanities' most beautiful buildings crumble will hurt, a little, but I won't see my world chance all that much, I don't walk past the colosseum that often anyways, and I think I will only miss the idea of the building much more than the building itself.
The movie this started with had a number of comments on different sites where it is shone about how mother nature gets her own back, how animals can take their revenge. And I agree, mother nature might win this battle, sure. I only hope that someday soon humans will stop seeing their interaction with everything around them as a war.
Meh, I've tired myself out here, next time I'll go for a lighter subject, but this was rattling inside my head right now and needed to get out. I need a hug, or someone to tell me everything will be allright.
http://www.yikers.com/video_animals_vs_humans.html
And at first, I had a feeling of righteousness. I like animals way, waaaaay better than I like humans anyways, and this is a good example of some of the animal kingdoms getting their own back.
Getting their own back a bit.
And a very small bit at that.
And then it made me very... very sad. And very angry.
Because if we are fair, most animals we see in that movie will die. Are, even, already dead. The dog biting the television presenter? More than 70% chance it will have been put down within three hours after shooting. The elephants goring people? Most likely killed before their "victim" breathed their last breath. The bulls were mostly bull-fighting and therefore in all probability drugged to within an inch of their lives anyways. The fact that adrenaline and pure blind luck combined into a squoeshed toreador does not mean the beast will live.
There is even a good chance the bear, the gator, the horse and the killer whale in theSeaworld-type setting will be put down, allthough these animals are incredibly expensive. Which in itself is saddening... being expensive is the only way to survine taking your anger out on humanity? Explains why some of us have no qualms about the death penalty, after all, humans cost jack-shit.
I feel truly and socially ineptly happy that I am a white male, from a good and upstanding family, having received a good education, in a good job. Because it means I am worth money, which means that when I snap, I have a good chance of not being put down immediately.
I meant every single word of that last two sentences. Apart from the word "because". I am happy about the things mentioned because they give me a chance to live a life as I want to do. The simple fact that I would've been well within my right to say and mean the last part as well makes it all the more likely that I will, someday, snap.
We live in a world decided by simple laws of evolution, the stronger one lives, the weaker dies. The fastest animals, the most poisonous, the strongest, the teethiest, the ones with horns, these animals are designed by nature to survive over those without teeth, horns, poison, strength of speed.
Guess what, folks, humans are animals without speed, strength, horns, poison or any sort of really usable weaponry. Suuure, we adjusted by finding animals that were easily to domesticate and by inventing weaponry, and more power to us, I say. Evolution is a good thing. In the same light I used to say that humans can't really do anything that goes against evolution, because quite simply all that it entails is getting to the top rung of a ladder we have only the vaguest conception of.
But this evolution has placed me, and my generation with me, in an strange position.
The things happening to our world right now, global warming, decaying glaciers, species going extinct, are all processes we are about 75 years too late in fixing, and also processes we aren't likely to see most effeects of.
Research has proven that we missed our window of opportunity in most world scale problems by about seventy years. All we can now do is limit or delay the damage somewhat, but we also have to understand that the polar ice WILL be gone. Tigers WILL cease to populate the forests, as will panda's. But because we are working hard-ish on delaying it, they will most likely do so in about a hundred years or so.
I am 25 years old. My cells and molecular structure is designed to rapidly deteriorate after 125 years, if I make it that long. Which means that I might see the last Bengal Tiger in captivity. I might have a chance to weep over the news that the last of the great turtles cannot lay fertile eggs in controlled environments. I will have a chance to see clones upon sadly deformed and dying clones of sheep before we decide that it will never be possible to resurrect the Indian Elephant from the last cells of the last bull. (Elephant bulls, that is)
On the same note, living well and looking both ways before I cross the street will give me a chance to be one of the last people out of Venice. This time not because cholera is overtaking the streets, but because the streets are going to be taken over by the sea soon.
I will be able to stand at the rubble of the leaning tower, see what water and heat has done for the Taj Mahal, shudder looking at a London partly submerged in a Thames several sizes too big.
But I will not live to see the real consequences of all of the above. I will not see the population of Gaur and Buffalo rise and overgraze the countryside, with it's own set of problems. I will not see bamboo choke the forests, or watch how shoals of fish become overabundant. I will not see sea grass overgrown, and die, taking with it a mass of species of small fish, not to mention rot and pollute the world's oceans.
And this, even though I can lively imagine all of the above, is exactly what makes environmental health a topic that is strangely far from me. All my best intentions are dwarfed by the sheer helplessness I feel looking at the world around me, and the fact that I won't be really hurt by what is happening. Sure, the sheer waste of seeing some of humanities' most beautiful buildings crumble will hurt, a little, but I won't see my world chance all that much, I don't walk past the colosseum that often anyways, and I think I will only miss the idea of the building much more than the building itself.
The movie this started with had a number of comments on different sites where it is shone about how mother nature gets her own back, how animals can take their revenge. And I agree, mother nature might win this battle, sure. I only hope that someday soon humans will stop seeing their interaction with everything around them as a war.
Meh, I've tired myself out here, next time I'll go for a lighter subject, but this was rattling inside my head right now and needed to get out. I need a hug, or someone to tell me everything will be allright.
Monday, September 11, 2006
Big..orange..shiny...
The tale of the anti-heckler.
I am one, I can admit that much. I am an avid and vocal heckler. I'm not ashamed of that. When a performance is good, I will applaud, tel my friends to go see, pay for merchandise and the like. When a performance is bad, I will heckle. I am of silver tongue and quick wit, and I use these attributes freely when trying to get somebody to just stop doing what they are doing. Mediocre singin, badly set up jokes, bad acting? I will heckle, heckle to my hearts content. My hope is that if I am ever on stage, people will do the same to me. Through heckling to greatness!
This weekend I was stopped. Stopped in such an absolute and incredible manner I can do no more than respect the artist who has silenced me. As most who read this know, it can sometimes be quite difficult to silence me, and he did it.
We, housemate, Sandra, Martin and I, were at a street fair in Uithoorn, my little hole in nothingness. And on this fair, there was a singer. Danny Panadero. A big, orange and shiny man. He sounded well, I have to admit, but he chose songs of such carnavalesque dutch horrendousness I couldn't help myself, I heckled. I threw in comments about songs, about the way he mangled lyrics, about his general orangeness, everything.
Then, he played a song I actually like, and to get my point across I punched the air a few times with the hand I had a purple scarf in, cheerleaderstyle. This caught the eyes of the orange Juggernaut, and all I could think was "Fucked, thy name is Kevin"
And yes, through the crowd he lumbered, light glinting of enormous sunshades, the orangeness of his face almost distracting from his bright yellow shirt, a big man, grey of hair and black of suit, an impressive character. I could feel his steely gaze on me, as small children were trampled underfoot and I desperately begged my friends not to leave me alone. Obviously and deservedly, they did (even though they heckled as well, bastards).
Standing right in front of me, singing "heb de hele nacht liggen dromen" (Dutch, translates as "been dreaming of you all night") for two verses right in my face, I have to admit, I fell silent. Not out of fear, mind, but mostly because I had no idea what to say now, and I actually liked the shiteload of attention it got me.
And, of course, out of fear, goes without saying, nearly.
He went back, pleased with the results of his actions, and started "YMCA" by the Village People after a few lines of banter in my direction. This, obviously, wasn't a problem for me, I'm very much out of the closet, and don't mind bantering with the stage when given the opportunity. I do respect his heckling techniques though, mark of a showman of some experience, if not directly quality.
Also, very happy that this helped me overcome my writer's block somewhat. I hope to have some more to blog about in the near future.
For now, be careful with big orange things.
Grtz,
Kevin.
I am one, I can admit that much. I am an avid and vocal heckler. I'm not ashamed of that. When a performance is good, I will applaud, tel my friends to go see, pay for merchandise and the like. When a performance is bad, I will heckle. I am of silver tongue and quick wit, and I use these attributes freely when trying to get somebody to just stop doing what they are doing. Mediocre singin, badly set up jokes, bad acting? I will heckle, heckle to my hearts content. My hope is that if I am ever on stage, people will do the same to me. Through heckling to greatness!
This weekend I was stopped. Stopped in such an absolute and incredible manner I can do no more than respect the artist who has silenced me. As most who read this know, it can sometimes be quite difficult to silence me, and he did it.
We, housemate, Sandra, Martin and I, were at a street fair in Uithoorn, my little hole in nothingness. And on this fair, there was a singer. Danny Panadero. A big, orange and shiny man. He sounded well, I have to admit, but he chose songs of such carnavalesque dutch horrendousness I couldn't help myself, I heckled. I threw in comments about songs, about the way he mangled lyrics, about his general orangeness, everything.
Then, he played a song I actually like, and to get my point across I punched the air a few times with the hand I had a purple scarf in, cheerleaderstyle. This caught the eyes of the orange Juggernaut, and all I could think was "Fucked, thy name is Kevin"
And yes, through the crowd he lumbered, light glinting of enormous sunshades, the orangeness of his face almost distracting from his bright yellow shirt, a big man, grey of hair and black of suit, an impressive character. I could feel his steely gaze on me, as small children were trampled underfoot and I desperately begged my friends not to leave me alone. Obviously and deservedly, they did (even though they heckled as well, bastards).
Standing right in front of me, singing "heb de hele nacht liggen dromen" (Dutch, translates as "been dreaming of you all night") for two verses right in my face, I have to admit, I fell silent. Not out of fear, mind, but mostly because I had no idea what to say now, and I actually liked the shiteload of attention it got me.
And, of course, out of fear, goes without saying, nearly.
He went back, pleased with the results of his actions, and started "YMCA" by the Village People after a few lines of banter in my direction. This, obviously, wasn't a problem for me, I'm very much out of the closet, and don't mind bantering with the stage when given the opportunity. I do respect his heckling techniques though, mark of a showman of some experience, if not directly quality.
Also, very happy that this helped me overcome my writer's block somewhat. I hope to have some more to blog about in the near future.
For now, be careful with big orange things.
Grtz,
Kevin.
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