This blog has a well-documented pro-Muppet bias. As does this reporter, who spent a long week and many run-on sentences senior year in college describing the origins of the campus pride and unified excitement that surrounded the unveiling of the below statue [a link to which does not still exist on any internet]. Plus, it’s Thanksgiving week
the original Bohemian rhapsody
and most of the hemisphere is fatted and slow after being crammed full of various permutations of the turkey meme, meatless or otherwise, and we’re all in need of some comforting family fare to soften the season, particulary of the kind that doesn’t make our heart impale itself on a shank made of rib cage slivers.
So I therefore feel justified posting this, even considering the high likelihood you’ve seen it by now, just to ensure you do not miss it, and maybe so you’ll appreciate it again:
The Muppets sing “Bohemian Rhapsody”
So hipsters apparently hate Wes Anderson for his brand
of corduroy shellacked, indie coopting and twee spewing. Perhaps this was justified as the decline in quality of his movies (and American Express commercial) in recent years has been noticeable.
But right now, don’t hate. Appreciate. Because The Fantastic Mr. Fox is a triumph, and Inverted Soapbox Heartily Endorses you going to see it.
Part of the reason it succeeds so well is that it uses the stylized talents of Anderson as a vehicle to let the speculative forces of Roald Dahl’s imagination push through. The film is funny and sweet, intelligent and creative in ways we haven’t seen in any films by Anderson (or any other director). Sitting in the theater last weekend, the first indication that everything with this movie is going to be all right is the opening shot and title card: a stop motion but realistic-looking hardcover version of the Dahl book looking like it was pulled directly from the shelves of my elementary school library, its Dewey Decimal System code visible on its spine. Continue reading
I wish I could remember how or why this song landed in my iTunes (according to iTunes chronology, it arrived somewhere between the Brighten the Corners: Nicene Creedence Edition and immediately preceding T.I.’s Live Your Life [ayyy ay]). But it has floated to the surface of the pile in recent weeks and affixed itself as the constant-repeat soundtrack to the season, that being fall, more specifically special urban fall, with all its hyperkenetic-super-frenetic energy rushing in like these sudden brutal winds leftover from tropical storm Ida.
Also, great use of alarmist Phil Donahue footage here:
Tullycraft – “The Punks are Writing Love Songs”
Download it here.
There’s a growing Douchebag Solidarity movement. Please join highfives around the world to help this cause.
[via Laughing Squid via Daily What]
They’re being persecuted by bigots like this:
Garfunkel and Oates
I too like my hair like I like my girls’ drinks: voluminous and unmanageable.
Also probably the best George Michael Bluth reference in modern music.
Two clips to get you started right for the night of fright ahead.
Subliminal chills from The Exorcist
First, you are aware, of course, that The Exorcist is one of the scariest movies of all time, because it harnesses that bone-shaking fright of The Unknown, and worse yet, the Intimate Unknown, the thought that something real and horrible and pure evil has cracked your safety shell and is living its chaotic path right under your roof, its next move always unpredictable but you stuck there, powerless to evacuate the situation. But have you ever seen the original trailer for the 1973 movie, the one that was never released because it was deemed too scary for audiences?
If you can, turn the lights down and watch this and you will feel the hot breath of unwelcome demons breathing in your ear. This is not one of those cheap scares where some shit jumps out at you from a darkened corner. It’s just the right discomfiting combination of sound and images that makes your skin move on its own accord:
They don’t make em like that any more, the subliminal eeriness that invades your subconscious and sets your mind into unease in ways the eewy gory Saw movies don’t even comprehend.
Second, something lighter, but still — in the mind of my 6-year-old self, at least — almost as goddamned terrifying.
ARMS- “Kids Aflame”
ARMS- Kids AFlame mp3
Arms via myspace
Featuring Todd Goldstein, guitarist of the (thoroughly fun) Harlem Shakes. That’s right, it’s the year of Where the Wild Things Are chic.
Bringing you Brooklyn-based lo-fi ukulele and welcoming melancholy, in songs with deep chasms but soft edges.
Wanna see eem live? For free yo?
We Are Unlisted
The real Kids A Flame, fye. Come all ye missionettes.
Kids Aflame out in the United States Oct. 27 through Gigantic Music.
Posted in brooklyn, Friday Happy, music, soapbox friends
Tagged arms, Friday Happy, harlem shakes, kids aflame, secret show, todd goldstein, we are unlisted, weareunlisted.com
I donned my lucky Chucks and took my perpetually single self to the Bell House Wednesday night for the first BK Meatup, not entirely sure how the skeptical hounds of the borough would respond to a singles-themed event, and having never attended a blog event before, and therefore justifiably scared of what terrors the real-world manifestations of blog commentators would portend. Early ticket sales were strong so I figured at least a few people would come through and mingle, if for nothing else than the cheap beer. Worst case, it would be a blog summit for us poverty addled kids at Brokelyn, the potty-mouthed playas at Fucked in Park Slope and the informative borough culture gurus at Brooklyn Based
I was also mentally preparing myself to have to volunteer for the male wet T shirt contest, under the assumption that dudes at the event would be too shy to climb on stage and have water dumped all over them like so much organic, free-range beef.
Turns out, my skepticism was stupid wrong on all counts.