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Acting Agents, Resizing Smart, Blue Collar to Middle Class, Indie Rock Stars, et al

September 6, 2007 by krisis

Speaking of which, here are the links I’ve accumulated since last week.

I’m a great fan of Television Without Pity, a snarky website that recaps all of the best (and worst) serialized television shows, so imagine my delight to find their new feature “Ask An Agent.” Sure, you’ve seen talent agents in movies and teevee shows, but are they as heartless (and charming) as Entourage’s Ari Gold? TWP correspondent Wing Chun examines every angle with Canadian super-agent Bryan Misener, including perspectives on the differences between Hollywood and Toronto.

In a random hunt for some sort of Madonna content (god only knows what) I came across a Drowned World Tour recap on Troubled Diva, which I have since taken a bit of a liking to.

If you are a communications or graphic design nerd of any size, Communication Nation’s post on smart image resizing is absolutely required viewing. That’s the sort of thing I’ve always imagined computers would be able to do. Amazing.

What If No One’s Watching puts words to a sensation I’ve experienced but never been able to articulate: transitioning from working class roots to middle class adulthood. Now, I don’t fall so squarely into “working class,” but I (and my family) have definitely shifted upwards into the “middle class” category in my lifetime.

The transition has never been a threat or a disheartenment to me, but sometimes in my newfound yuppy life I am caught off guard when I realize that hardly anyone I know or work with has, say, been on food stamps before. At least Lindsay and I can reminisce about standing in line for government issued cheese.

Did you know that theversion of “Labor Day” in other countries such as Germany correlates not to their own nationalist labor movement, but to that of the United States? I sure didn’t, but Theatrical Milestones offers an explanation. Also, foodie blog Ethicurean draws a dotted line between unions and America’s agriculture.

Oh, and a link from Epi: Organic To Be.

Okay, I can admit I am not an automaton, and some things make me laugh. Such as this narrative eBay description linked by Writing Aspirations. The seller (a blogger) took an unusual approach to describing her product that, in this case, garnered something like a 3000% markup over what she originally paid.

Sometimes a link gets so memetacular that you can witness it sloughing through your RSS feed, as an illustrated coffee guide has been recently. Usually I ignore these sorts of things, but I cannot tell you how often I’ve explained the contents of this chart to family members and co-workers since my barrista days came to a close. I’m going to post it in my freaking cube for reference.

Longtime read Coolfer informs me that uber-producer Rick Rubin is now the co-head of Columbia records (via a great NYT article). And, yes, the idea of this one heavily bearded wise man saving the entirety of the music industry is a little hyperbolic, but clearly he comes down on the side of artist development, if only based on how many bands he’s produced where they’ve wound up sounding more like themselves than ever before.

And, while we’re on the topic of music, I must reiterate my addiction to my two recent mp3blog finds The Yellow Stereo and Philly-based Some Velvet Blog. Why? Because they like indie music, but they still have good taste – a trait critically missing from those who wet themselves over every yowling tuneless indie band that galumphs down the pitchfork pike.

Georgie-James is one of the rare bands that shares genre-space with our Arcati Crisis duo. Listen to “Cake Parade,” which is especially Gina-ish. I hope we get that catchy when we fill out to band size. The Magic Numbers seem to be in that category as well, except Gina can sing circles around their chick(s).

Säkert is cool, and all the more catchy for not being in English. I’m also inexplicably into “Summer In the City” by The Boys And Girls Club. Amos The Transparent seems to have some merit, but is not making my needle quiver, so to speak.

Closing out the music topic, Scott Andrew. He was half of the fabulous Pet Rock Stars, who wrote and recorded two songs from across the country during Blogathon 2003. In the intervening years he’s become the rocker/blogger than I’ve always aspired to be, seamlessly integrating his music into his page while keeping it a blog.

Scott has a new record coming out, the progress of which you can follow back to the cover shoot, or even the decision about whether it was going to be an album or not.

I would support Scott in concept, except for he’s an amazing singer and songwriter, so I can support him in reality instead. I’m looking forward to catching up to him a bit this year.

(Also, note to self: you have three days left to sponsor the new Mieka Pauley disc, which is going to be excellent. Check out her mindbendingly awesome “All The Same Mistakes” on Myspace.)

Finally, some quick hit links.

Ffffound is, in the words of Fresh Arrival: del.icio.us for cool photos you find online. Handy when you’re looking for a post topic in a pinch.

From the increasingly beloved MLarson: Indexed Blog, which is easier to see than to explain. Monome, an intriguing Philly-based design interface that frankly makes no sense to me but is still quite fascinating (note to self: maybe interview them?). You don’t need a plan, you need skills and a problem. A sentence truer than you think.

From the lengthily adored Make You Go Hmm: G.ho.st is a virtual desktop, useful if you work across several different computers each day. Aerogel is the lowest density product currently known to man, which I only halfway understand (decent explanation here) and will have Gina elaborately describe to me over the weekend. PriceProtectr tracks the things you’ve bought in case the price drops soon enough for you to get a rebate. Did you know that Amazon will refund the difference in price within 30-days of purchase? I bet you didn’t.

Fin: Heather Champ with my photo of the week.

Filed Under: identity, linkylove, teevee, weblinks Tagged With: Madonna

I so did not violate any confidentiality agreements by writing this post.

August 27, 2007 by krisis

How to write this post and not get fired? It’ll be tricky.

You all know by now I work in communications for a major Philadelphia company, and I love it. I get paid to do things I would probably be doing at home by myself anyway, as frightening as that concept is.

What you might not know (because I haven’t mentioned it in about seven years) is that I had a childhood obsession with the Price Is Right. I loved the One Bid, I loved the Showcase Showdown.

But, I loved nothing more than I loved Plinko.

I was obsessed with the way the penny slid into the board and plunked back and forth and to and fro down the pegs before it finally wound up in a prize slot.

You might not understand how those two facts are connected to each other. Here’s a hint:

Right now, somewhere in Philadelphia, there is a fully functional Plinko board.

I can’t tell you why there is a Plinko board, or where the Plinko board is, because it’s … well, it might be a trade secret? Like, if I were to reveal the purpose and location of the Plinko board, the reason behind my termination would be “dissemination of trade secrets on the internet.” I think.

What I can reveal is that within the last month my co-workers’ “duties as assigned” meant they had to acquire said Plinko board, and that when I walked one of said co-workers to the parking lot today I came within one hot second of climbing onto the roof of her mini-van like a fucking ninja and riding that sucker through rush hour to the location of the Plinko board.

I have been promised photos, and possibly even a video demo, of the Plinko board in action. Yet, pester, plead, and outright beg as I might I could not obtain permission to play, touch, or even view the Plinko board at its secret location. And, after tomorrow, it will be gone, whisked away by the cruel whims of fate (and/or the decrepit liver-spotted claws of nigh unknown game show dieties).

However, though I may be barred from visiting the Plinko mecca, or enlisting you to help me gain entry to it by some nefarious means, I have taken away one important thing from this experience:

I now know that there is a life-sized, fully-functional Plinko board that can be delivered to the Philadelphia metro area.

And, I’m pretty sure I have a high enough credit limit to rent it for the weekend…

Filed Under: corporate, games, only childness, Philly, stories, teevee, Year 08

In Which I Confess to Lazing

April 6, 2007 by krisis

If we define me by being musical and active and despising passive expenditures of time, then I think it’s safe to say that I went through a bit of an Anti-Me month in February.

Mostly due to video games.

Let me back up a step. In 2004 I gave up network television as a concept; it figuratively and literally doesn’t exist to me anymore, the latter because we haven’t had a vestige of television reception for going on three years.

Since 2004, 95% of the television I have watched (intentionally or not) has been Eagles games. And, because we don’t have reception of our own, most of my Eagles-watching is done with friends.

This season the group of friends happens to also be a group of depraved video-game maniacs, and when we decided to get together for one post-playoffs hurrah we did nothing but play video games.

I haven’t given up video games in the way that I gave up television, but they do make me wary … mostly because I spent a year and a half of my life doing nothing but playing City of Heroes. Sure, there are a handful of site updates and new songs to prove I was alive, and also I was apparently maintaining a relationship at the time, but I was also putting in 40+ hour weeks in at work and on the game.

Well, after our little party I decided that owning a video game system wouldn’t be the end of the world. It wouldn’t be connected to the internet, so it couldn’t suck me in the same degree as City of Heroes. And, much in the way we selectively view TVDs of good shows to replace our lack of television, I would only buy and play games that were compelling. It would be a social and intellectual pursuit.

Right. And then I bought We Love Katamari and a month of my life disappeared.

It’s not that I played video games for the entire month, so much as that video games were emblematic of my lack of energy for creative pursuits. Not lack of inspiration, mind you, but lack of energy.

Merrily, I was right – a non-networked PlayStation doesn’t have the kind of grip on my immortal soul as an internet world full of unique superheroes. This iteration of gaming in my life is merely a distraction, not an addiction.

But then I think – how much blogging could I have done while I was thumbing a joystick? How many songs could I have recorded? Et cetera, et cetera?

Who knows. Life doesn’t work like a metric conversion scale. Could I have recorded an awesome album, or did I simply not have anything to say creatively?

A retrospective answer is meaningless; it’s a question you and I need to ask ourselves each time we pick up a remote or a controller.

This week my answer is “you have plenty to say – start talking.”

Filed Under: betterment, games, parties, thoughts Tagged With: gina

Small Details That Make Me Cry Every Time

February 10, 2007 by krisis

1. When Fleur tends to Bill at the end of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince.

2. Anya’s last scene in Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

3. When Jessica Lange overturns the hospital cart near the end of Big Fish.

4. Madonna’s end-of-tour prayer in I’m Going to Tell You a Secret.

5. When Eowyn defeats the Witch King in Return of the King.

Surely you have noticed that all five moments involve strong or outspoken female characters. The interesting question is, how many of those moment make me cry because they are sad/touching, as opposed to the ones that make me cry because I am a feminist?

At first blush it would seem to be 4 to 1, but not all is what meets the eye.

Filed Under: flicks, thoughts

The Belly of the Beast

January 15, 2007 by krisis

The closest I had ever been to a casino prior to Saturday was my twice-yearly reading of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, so when we stepped onto the floor of the Tropicana I half expected a neon carousel full of lizard-people to greet me.

It would have been better than the real thing; shabby carpets whose patterns snaked from side to side as they stretched across a hazy room filled with a fleet of leggy middle-aged waitresses in weird black corsets and hundreds of chain-smoking, hollow-looking gamblers, with a few cigar-smoking rotund gamblers thrown in for good measure.

I suppose I could have inferred the haze and the zombie-like patrons from Hunter, but i had been hoping for something more psychedelic.

In Vegas, maybe, but the nine of us were in Atlantic City. Wes and Karen sat down for winning streaks at black jack while I milled back and forth, nearly having my legs broken when i mistakenly wandered into the service-space between two active craps tables.

It occurred to me that there was really no instruction for the beginning gambler; I couldn’t have even sat down at a black jack table, let alone craps or some poker variant. While the hollow-cheeked undead of Atlantic City elbowed their way past me to get a closer look at the craps game I wondered if they all just expected me to buy some chips and lose until I understood … until I realized that anyone who spent any amount of time wondering about that wasn’t fit for gambling in the first place.

Eventually the more serious boys headed to poker while the rest of us made a pass at the slot machines, where I spent my first (and perhaps only) $3.25 on gambling before declaring that the fleet of corseted grandmothers were not going to keep me inebriated enough to make my gambling cost-effective.

We retreated towards the sports bar and, as the whir and hum of the shabby casino room faded behind us and as the ceiling gave way to rows of wicker fans and then impossibly-bright false-clouds, I thought that perhaps I liked casinos very much so long as I didn’t have to go into the casino part.

Either that, or calculate just how much I had to gamble in total to have my drinks and roomage completely comped and spend exactly that hour-by-hour over the slow course of a day. Because I’d rather spend my money on a steady and sure flow of Southern Comfort than whip it away on the whims of an eight-deck shuffler.

Eight hours later and we were all thoroughly drunk (some of us already hung-over) and mourning our poor Eagles while singing karaoke, me and Gina and our entire table screaming back the pitches of Bohemian Rhapsody at the pitch-deaf lump who had the (intentional) misfortune of selecting the song, and then carrying our scream-singing into the cool night air and back to Philadelphia as i sang the pitches i still could with my husk of a voice.

It took me the better part of Sunday to recover from the experience – just sleep and water, no speech or food, until finally this morning I felt as though the rest of me had returned from AC, where it had somehow become entangled in the hazy air on the casino floor.

Filed Under: adulthood, alchohol, books, day in the life, events, stories, Year 07 Tagged With: gina

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