Mic's Tape

The Iowa City Mockjob?

2011-05-06T09:00:00.087-05:00

On April 18, 2011, a student organization at the University of Iowa (UI) sent out a campus-wide email in which they repeatedly used a term more commonly associated with a different group of people. For some reason, many people within the University (and the greater Iowa City community) responded by getting really, really upset.

Putting things in context
Two-and-a-half weeks ago, the UI College Republicans (UICR) chose to continue a tradition, dating back several years, of marketing a week-long string of recruitment events under the banner: “Conservative Coming Out Week.” A campus-wide email publicizing said events included the following excerpts:

“Conservatives in Iowa City it is now time to come out of the closet!”;
“Friday: Wear RED Day! Come out of the closet and show your true colors!”
“Should be a great week! Lets come out!” (emphasis mine)

In response, several people in the community — including, most notoriously, UI anthropology/women's studies Professor Ellen Lewin — criticized UICR’s decision to co-opt a phrase (i.e., “coming out”) that is widely considered synonymous with the lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) rights movement.

In reply to these criticisms, certain individuals affiliated with UICR have cried foul. For example, according to an Apr 21 article published in The Daily Iowan (DI):

John Twillmann, the chairman of the UI College Republicans, said that argument is faulty, because "coming out" is just a term that isn't copyrighted or owned by anyone. "It's being open and honest," he said. "You can come out, come clean about many things, and we're coming out about being conservative."

In a guest opinion article published the following day, also in the DI, Natalie Ginty, chairwoman of the Iowa Federation of College Republicans, echoed Twillman’s basic argument:

Many have complained about the use of "coming out" in the title of the week. There is no patent placed upon the term, and making general assumptions about our beliefs is off base. The goal of "Conservative Coming Out Week" was for Republicans to be honest with their community to who they are: Republicans. I believe we accomplished just that.

Finally, in a third article, published in the Apr 26 issue of the DI, Ginty added:

"We're not insulting the community. It's purely about being honest with your community," she said. "They're [not] insulted by debutantes who use the words 'coming out' when they come out to society. Yet they're insulted by us. We're not trying to pick them out. It's just a clever title that we're going to use."

Embedded below is a video (courtesy of the DI website) that includes interviews with Twillman and Ginty, and addresses some of these issues in greater detail:

( Daily Iowan video feature )

Video in QuickTime format, click here for free player download

In reaction to these statements by Twillman and Ginty, I would say, first off, that they are absolutely correct in at least two respects: (1) the term “coming out” is not copyrighted, owned or patented by the LGBT community (or anyone else), so UICR has every right to use it; and (2) if, hypothetically speaking, it had been a student organization called the “UI College Debutantes” that had issued a campus-wide email featuring repeated usage of the term, “coming out,” then yes, I agree, the community would probably not have been insulted by this.

But my second — and far more salient — reaction to Twillman and Ginty’s statements is that they are completely glossing over the larger context of the situation.

The larger context, in my opinion, is that UICR is a student organization with explicit ties to a national political party that, by and large, campaigns and votes in direct opposition to the LGBT rights movement. In other words, this is a case of a student group appropriating the language of a minority group that their parent organization generally works to denigrate and oppress.

Or, to put it a third way, whereas self-identifying as a “debutante” links oneself to a group that is completely neutral with respect to LGBT rights, self-identifying as a “College Republican” links oneself to a group that is generally perceived as antagonistic toward LGBT rights — it is this distinction that explains why certain members of the community (esp., those sympathetic to LGBT rights) would object to one group’s use of the term, “coming out,” but not to the other’s.

I have too much respect for the intelligence of these students and their advisers — and I’m not saying this to be cute, but in earnest — to believe for one second that they remain genuinely unaware of the loaded nature of using the phrase “coming out” in this context. On the contrary, I believe that when the group first decided to organize a “Conservative Coming Out Week” at UI (beginning, I believe, in 2006), they were fully aware that doing so would be controversial and provocative.

A history of drawing heat
A closer examination of “Conservative Coming Out Week” (both past and present) only furthers my impression that at least part of the group’s objective is, to borrow a pro wrestling term, “draw heat” from (i.e., get a rise out of) those on the other side of the political aisle. For instance, the above-referenced Apr 21 DI article states that:

The UI College Republicans faced some criticism in 2007 for hosting a capture the flag game called "Catch an Illegal Immigrant" as part of its second Conservative Coming Out Week. Two teams — the "illegal immigrants" and the "border patrol" — competed.

The same article references two additional events, both held in 2011, which have also invited controversy. First, a so-called “Animal Rights BBQ,” held on Apr 21. According to The DI:

The College Republicans have hosted similar cookouts in the past, which have mocked the advocacy group People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals by grilling a lot of meat (emphasis mine).

And second, an event held on Apr 20, which invited people to gather at the UI campus’ Pentacrest from 11 to 1 in order to: “Come pick up your Doctors' Notice to miss class for ‘sick of being stressed’, just like the Wisconsin public employees during the union protests.” Commenting on the latter event, Ginty said:

"We're obviously somewhat mocking the union protesters in Wisconsin and how some of them skipped work to go to the Capitol and protest" (emphasis mine).

It is difficult to reconcile, on on hand, such blatant acts of provocation toward those who support certain “liberal” positions (e.g., amnesty for illegal immigrants, animal rights, and pro-labor/unions) with, on the other hand, statements by Twillman and Ginty implying that appropriating the term “coming out” was somehow not meant to provoke those who support LGBT rights.

Yet that is precisely what they statements are asking me to believe: that the group’s continuing decision to use the term “coming out” — despite all the controversy and offense that doing so consistently generates year after year — is “purely about being honest with [their] community” (emphasis mine). Forgive me if I choose instead to interpret these statements as disingenuous.

In public discourse, as in pro wrestling, context matters
Okay, so brumpelstiltskin must confess that the whole “coming out” controversy directly inspired the previous post about the “Montreal Screwjob” (of pro wrestling fame). The original campus-wide email circulated by UICR just sort of sounded like something that a pro wrestling scriptwriter could have composed, and surely their appropriation of “coming out” is not a million miles away from Shawn Michael’s appropriation of the Sharpshooter (at least to the curious mind of a recovering WWF fan). That said, in the aftermath of the Montreal Screwjob, Michaels and Vince McMahon didn’t proceed to gloss over the context or feign bemusement as to why Bret Hart and his fans got so upset with statements like: “There is no patent placed upon use of the Sharpshooter."

But, to be serious, this ridiculous and obscure analogy of mine also breaks down in the sense that — unlike the simplified black-and-white world of pro wrestling story lines, where Bret Hart and Shawn Michaels were irreconcilable “opponents” of each other — in the real world, Republicans and the LGBT community are not enemies. Sure, a majority of GOP leaders tend to vote in opposition to LGBT rights, but this does not mean that all Republicans oppose gay rights (or that all Democrats support them). Indeed, I would be very surprised if there are not current UICR members who actually support LGBT rights, and were embarrassed by the email (not to mention other students who would have considered joining the group, but were turned off by “Conservative Coming Out Week”).

Which is why I feel “Conservative Coming Out Week” is such a shame. In my opinion, all it does is perpetuate oversimplified cultural-political stereotypes and discourage bipartisan dialogue on substantive issues. And yes, I also believe that if the goals of UICR are to recruit more students to their cause, and to feel more accepted in the community, then this particular approach ultimately works against their best interests.

All that said, UICR leaders are of course entitled to continue organizing “Conservative Coming Out Weeks” in the future. But if they do, I hope they won't act surprised if their decision is once again perceived as a deliberate act of mockery.

The Montreal Screwjob

2011-05-04T20:33:00.007-05:00

On November 9, 1997, the World Wrestling Federation (WWF) produced a pay-per-view extravaganza featuring a main event in which one of the wrestlers defeated his opponent by using a “finishing maneuver” more commonly associated with a different wrestler. For some reason, the wrestler who lost the match (and his fans) responded by getting really, really upset.

Putting things in context
Everybody knows that professional wrestling, generally speaking, is fake. Ah, but “generally speaking” is not the same as “always.”

Surely the most notorious instance of pro wrestling “breaking script” transpired during the main event of the 11th annual WWF Survivor Series — better known as the “Montreal Screwjob” — in which then-WWF Champion Bret “The Hit Man” Hart, put his title on the line against arch-rival, Shawn “Heartbreak Kid” Michaels, before a sold-out Molson Centre in Hart’s home country of Canada.


Michaels applies the Sharpshooter

As is typical in pro wrestling, a basic script for how the match would unfold had been agreed upon ahead of time by Hart, Michaels, and WWF owner Vince McMahon. Hart, who had recently signed a contract with the WWF’s principal rival, WCW — set to take effect one month after the Survivor Series — recognized that he would need to “lose” the WWF championship prior to leaving the company, but he and McMahon disagreed on the specifics of how this storyline should be written.

McMahon wanted Hart to "job" (i.e., lose cleanly) to Michaels in Montreal, but Hart refused: partly because he didn't want to lose the title in Canada, where he was considered a sort of national hero; but also because he and Michaels had significant bad blood towards each other — not just "on camera," but in real life. As a result, Hart, Michaels, and McMahon mutually decided that the match would end in a disqualification — meaning that the title would not change hands — and that Hart would then willingly abdicate the title to McMahon the following evening on Monday Night Raw.

The specifics of the match script hinged on a scenario in which Michaels, late in the match, would lock Hart into the Sharpshooter — The Hit Man’s own signature submission hold — which promised to “draw heat” from the fiercely pro-Hart, Canadian audience. But then, after a few tense moments in this predicament, the agreement was that Hart would escape from the hold; and that, soon thereafter, three of Hart’s allies (his brother, Owen Hart; “The British Bulldog” Davey Boy Smith; and Jim “The Anvil” Neidhart”) and two of Michaels’ allies (Triple H and Chyna) would collectively interfere in the match, eventually resulting in a double disqualification.

This, at least, was the plan.

But in a shocking, real-life twist, McMahon and Michaels (along with other WWF higher-ups) met the day prior to the event and together crafted a secret plot to double-cross The Hit Man. As a result, what actually came to pass was that, when Michaels applied the Sharpshooter, referee Earl Hebner almost immediately waved his hand to declare the match over and Michaels the victor, even though Bret Hart had very clearly not submitted. In the video (embedded below), you can actually hear McMahon — who was standing immediately ringside — order the timekeeper to “ring the bell!” You can also see a genuinely astonished Bret Hart spit directly into McMahon’s face.

After spitting on McMahon, Hart would go on to destroy much of the WWF's ringside broadcast equipment. Hart's supporters were also livid, including many of the other wrestlers, some of whom threatened to leave the company as a direct result of McMahon's betrayal (at least one, "Ravishing" Rick Rude, did leave). Another high-profile wrestler, Mark Calaway (aka "The Undertaker"), confronted McMahon after the event and demanded that he publicly apologize to Hart. Later that evening, when approached by McMahon backstage, Hart delivered a single punch to McMahon's face, knocking him to the ground and leaving him with a black eye.

Many fans in the audience were equally incensed; some threw garbage at McMahon, and others pushed Michaels, as they retreated to the locker room. To this day, many wrestling fans around the globe have still not forgiven them.

But despite all the backlash, McMahon's plan had succeeded, and the damage was irreversibly done. As if deceiving Hart into losing his final match to his bitterest rival in front of his own countrymen wasn’t humiliating enough, the cruel and ironic culmination of McMahon and Michael’s scheme — which portrayed Hart as having submitted at the hands of his very own "trademark" maneuver — ensured that the ultimate insult would be added to injury.

If you're interested in learning more about the Montreal Screwjob, I'd recommend a documentary called Hitman Hart: Wrestling with Shadows, now available on Netflix Watch Instantly.

Do Re Mi Fa Oh Si Di

2010-02-06T16:19:00.005-06:00

It's no secret (one need look no further than here) that there's a certain obsessive pathology running through the veins—and synapsing through the brains—of brumpelstiltskin. With that in mind, it's finally time for me, MC Gallagher, to unveil the fruit of my most compulsive musical labors. Here goes...

Several years ago, circa 2005, I devised an algorithm for rating my favorite albums. The crux of the formula involves rating each song from 1 to 5 stars (1, 2, 3, 3½, 4, 4½ or 5). This is quite subjective, but I've become reasonably clear on what each rating signifies. For example, a 3-star song is one that I "like", but am sometimes just not in the mood for (e.g., if I heard it on the radio, I might switch the station). Five-star ratings, by contrast, are reserved for songs that do what music at its best is meant to do: induce a reaction that is profoundly emotional and/or physiological in nature (e.g., tears of sadness, chills of nostalgia, lulls of tranquility, invigorating bursts of adrenaline, etc).

But my condition—which psychiatrists on the DSM-V planning committee are referring to as "Do-Re-Mi-Fa-O-C-D"—does not allow me to stop there. Oh no! Rather, after rating each song on a given album, I am then compelled to weigh songs based on length (i.e., a 10-minute song contributes more to the final rating than a 60-second song), and from there compute an overall average score. Finally, I adjust the average-of-songs score to account for the aesthetic cohesiveness of the album as a whole (e.g., a really cohesive concept album gets bonus points; an album that's uneven, or drags on a bit too long, gets docked a few points).

That's the gist; here's the list

Was it right and salutary to inflict science and statistics upon one of the most intrinsic and qualitative things in my life? I'm not sure. But once I started, I just couldn't stop. And now, after months and months (OK, years) of just thinking and talking about it, I'm finally ready to reveal my magnum opus: "MC Gallagher's 100 Favourite Albums"!

But first, just a few clarifications/disclaimers: (1) I only considered proper studio albums and live albums; thus, "compilations" that otherwise might have made the list (like Hatful of Hollow by The Smiths) were not eligible; (2) I've long been accused of Anglophilia, and the results have certainly borne that out, so brace yourself for a hearty dose of British music—literate and witty, rousing and swaggering, melancholy and brooding British music!; and (3) to merely say that the difference between my top 2 albums (i.e., 21 ten-thousandths of a point) does not reach statistical significance would be a bit of an understatement; in the end, the album that prevailed is the one that’s dearer to my heart, and which I discovered first, when a then-13-year-old still stood at the threshold of his musical awakening, and the band in question still teetered on the precipice of utter ubiquity, about to “supernova” into greatness.

To view the list, click below on the "Continue Reading" link.

To present my list, I've harnessed the powers of my two favorite music sites: Rate Your Music, with its excellent list-making feature; and Lala, which allows me to embed actual song files into the blog (many thanks to my friend, Bill, for his assistance on the HTML code for this!). You'll notice that I've included a sample song for all albums on the list that Lala has under license. In most cases, I've selected my personal favorite track, but in some instances I chose a song that arguably provides a better "introduction" to those unfamiliar with the album. Please note that listening to the songs via Lala may require you to create an account (if you don't already have one). To borrow a line from Pitchfork, "signing up for Lala is something like signing up for MySpace or Facebook -- you don't have to give them any credit card information, and it's free". For more info, see Pitchfork's full summary here, or my testimonial here). And without further ado (really!), here is the list:

100

Stevie Wonder
Talking Book (1972)

Coldplay
A Rush of Blood to the Head (2002)

Jimi Hendrix
Are You Experienced? (1967)

Suede
Suede (1993)

PJ Harvey
To Bring You My Love (1995)

The Beatles
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (1967)

Television
Marquee Moon (1977)

OutKast
Aquemini (1998)

Radiohead
Amnesiac (2001)

Nick Drake
Pink Moon (1972)

Wilco
Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (2002)

Love
Forever Changes (1967)

John Lennon
Imagine (1971)

Iggy Pop
Lust for Life (1977)

Blur
Parklife (1994)

Bruce Springsteen
Born to Run (1975)

George Harrison
All Things Must Pass (1970)

The Stone Roses
The Stone Roses (1989)

LCD Soundsystem
Sound of Silver (2007)

Radiohead
Hail to the Thief (2003)

Kate Bush
Hounds of Love (1985)

The Kinks
Muswell Hillbillies (1971)

Richard & Linda Thompson
I Want to See the Bright Lights Tonight (1974)

Elvis Costello
Imperial Bedroom (1982)

Johnny Cash
At Folsom Prison (1968)

The Kinks
Something Else by The Kinks (1967)

Neil Young
Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere (1969)

The Rolling Stones
Beggars Banquet (1968)

Guns N' Roses
Appetite for Destruction (1987)

David Bowie
Aladdin Sane (1973)

Jeff Buckley
Grace (1994)

Neil Young
Rust Never Sleeps (1979)

Gram Parsons
GP (1973)

The Kinks
Lola Versus Powerman and the Moneygoround (Part One) (1970)

Nirvana
MTV Unplugged in New York (1994)

Neil Young
Harvest (1972)

Bruce Springsteen
Darkness on the Edge of Town (1978)

Neil Young
On the Beach (1974)

Pulp
This Is Hardcore (1998)

Led Zeppelin
Led Zeppelin II (1969)

The Smiths
The Smiths (1984)

Big Star
Radio City (1974)

Sufjan Stevens
Illinoise (2005)

The Kinks
The Kinks Are the Village Green Preservation Society (1968)

The Beatles
Let It Be (1970)

Radiohead
In Rainbows (2007)

David Bowie
Hunky Dory (1971)

The Flying Burrito Bros
The Gilded Palace of Sin (1969)

Bob Dylan
John Wesley Harding (1967)

Led Zeppelin
Led Zeppelin [IV] (1971)

Big Star
#1 Record (1972)

The Cure
Disintegration (1989)

Weezer
Weezer [Blue Album] (1994)

U2
The Joshua Tree (1987)

The Velvet Underground
Loaded (1970)

Prince
Purple Rain (1984)

The Smiths
Strangeways, Here We Come (1987)

Pulp
Different Class (1995)

Belle and Sebastian
If You're Feeling Sinister (1996)

Bruce Springsteen
Nebraska (1982)

Bob Dylan
Highway 61 Revisited (1965)

The Velvet Underground
The Velvet Underground (1969)

Stevie Wonder
Innervisions (1973)

Radiohead
Kid A (2000)

The Beach Boys
Pet Sounds (1966)

David Bowie
Station to Station (1976)

Joni Mitchell
Blue (1971)

The Rolling Stones
Exile on Main St. (1972)

Patti Smith
Horses (1975)

Pink Floyd
The Dark Side of the Moon (1973)

Pink Floyd
Animals (1977)

The Clash
London Calling (1979)

The Who
Quadrophenia (1973)

Van Morrison
Astral Weeks (1968)

Arcade Fire
Funeral (2004)

The Velvet Underground
The Velvet Underground & Nico (1967)

Pink Floyd
The Wall (1979)

Neil Young
After the Gold Rush (1970)

The Verve
Urban Hymns (1997)

Bob Dylan
Blood on the Tracks (1975)

The Kinks
Arthur or the Decline and Fall of the British Empire (1969)

The Who
Who's Next (1971)

The Beatles
Rubber Soul (1965)

The Rolling Stones
Let It Bleed (1969)

John Lennon
Plastic Ono Band (1970)

Weezer
Pinkerton (1996)

U2
Achtung Baby (1991)

Pink Floyd
Wish You Were Here (1975)

Neutral Milk Hotel
In the Aeroplane Over the Sea (1998)

Oasis
(What's the Story) Morning Glory? (1995)

The Beatles
Abbey Road (1969)

David Bowie
The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars (1972)

The Rolling Stones
Sticky Fingers (1971)

The Smiths
The Queen Is Dead (1986)

The Beatles
Revolver (1966)

Gram Parsons
Grievous Angel (1974)

Oasis
Definitely Maybe (1994)

The Beatles
The Beatles [White Album] (1968)

Radiohead
OK Computer (1997)

Radiohead
The Bends (1995)

Jacquamole!

2009-09-10T21:47:00.009-05:00

As someone whose burger-buying decision-making tends be negatively influenced by TV ads perpetuating the stereotype that men don't know how to cook (let alone open a bag of cereal)—not to mention those that objectify women in perhaps the most unsubtle way imaginable—it's probably no surprise that I'm not a big fan of Hardee's commercials.

That said, I must admit to being at least mildly impressed by a recent ad for their French Dip Thickburger. Granted, it's not the ad itself that impresses me, but rather that Hardee's chose to hitch this particular ad campaign to the slogan: "It's better when it's French". To do so a mere six years after a significant percentage of the US population seemed to consider ordering "French Fries" (instead of "Freedom Fries") tantamount to a minor act of treason has to be considered a bit of gamble on Hardee's part, and I can't help but tip my beret to such a display of guts.

It is better when it's French
The inspiration for beginning this article in such a roundabout manner stems from a recent food-related conversation I had with one of brumpelstiltskin's closest aides (alias: Axe), who asked me: "Do you really want to take guacamole lessons from a Frenchman?"

Of course, the Frenchman in question is none other than my culinary hero, Jacques Pépin. To respond to Axe's question, my answer is a simple yet emphatic "Oui!" In other words, you do want to learn the art of guacamole—or, as I like to call it, "Jacquamole"—from Monsieur Pépin. The simple recipe (found in his book "Fast Food My Way") is as follows:

Mix 2 ripe avocados (crushed coarsely with a fork), ½ cup diced tomatoes (including seeds/juice), 1/4 cup finely chopped onions (put in a colander and rinsed under cold water), 1½ teaspoons finely chopped garlic, 3 tablespoons minced scallion (i.e., green onions), 1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro, 1½ tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, 1 tablespoon lemon juice, and ¾ teaspoon salt. Finally, if you like a little spice, add 2 tablespoons minced chile pepper and ½ teaspoon Tabasco Green Pepper sauce.

Toss this in a bowl, add some tortilla chips, and enjoy!

A Champagne Supernova of Tears

2009-08-31T20:05:00.013-05:00

I know, I know, brumpelstilskin is just incorrigible: to cite an article about Oasis as our all-time least readership-pleasing blog post only to turn around and publish a new article about Oasis a mere five days later—what nerve, what incoherence, what hooliganism!

I read the news today (oh Noel!)
But how could I have foreseen the (inglorious) story that would await me on Saturday morning? That's when a text from a friend (code name: Erik the Red) alerted brumpelstiltskin to the following statement issued Friday night by Oasis’ lead guitarist and chief songwriter, Noel Gallagher:

It's with some sadness and great relief to tell you that I quit Oasis tonight. People will write and say what they like, but I simply could not go on working with Liam a day longer.

By Liam, Noel was of course referring to his younger brother and Oasis' lead singer (pictured above, left, in happier times). Apparently, Britpop's favorite sibling rivals had another of their famous bro-hahas Friday evening (prior to a concert in Paris), only this latest row appears to have been a bit more serious than usual—rumor even has it that Liam smashed Noel's favorite guitar! (In case you’re wondering, the “lads” are aged 42 and 37, respectively.) Granted, Noel’s “left” the band many times before—and I wouldn’t be surprised if the brothers decide to patch things up and reunite—but the fact that he posted his decision to the band’s official website does lend it a certain air of finality that his previous announcements lacked.

It's better to burn out...
If this really is the end, it comes at a pretty good time, I think. For instance, whereas five years ago the band seemed to be descending rapidly along a path of ever-increasing irrelevance, I would argue that their last two records (released in 2005 and 2008) have marked a rather improbable (and relatively triumphant) return to respectability. In fact, their last single—the lyrically despairing but musically pulsating “Falling Down”, released in March–is perhaps my favorite Oasis song in over 10 years.

But another reason why now seems like an okay time to call it quits has already been mentioned; namely, Noel and Liam are 42 and 37, and thus fast approaching Rolling Stones territory. At age 66, Mick Jagger is still singing "Satisfaction"; twenty-five years from now, will Oasis fans really want two 60-year-old Gallagher brothers still up onstage singing "Live Forever" and calling each other wankers?

The World's Best, Litterally

2009-08-26T12:07:00.010-05:00

Brumpelstiltskin has a rather deplorable habit of crafting blog posts that only appeal to a small percentage (and in some cases none) of the Mic’s Tape readership. For many readers, today’s article is but the latest example of this heinous trend. But for those of you who are (a) cat owners and (b) not 100% satisfied with your current brand of cat litter, well, this is your lucky day.

With that ridiculous introduction out the way, let me cut to the chase. Back in October I issued a glowing endorsement of a product called World’s Best Cat Litter (WBCL). Ten months later, my satisfaction (and that of my cats, Dickens and Dolly) remains complete. For starters, I continue to marvel at its combination of top-notch "clumpability" and odor control; all-natural corn kernel-based ingredients; and biodegradable, septic-safe composition (which allows it to be flushed rather than taken out with the trash).

But what impresses me most is its cost-effectiveness. For instance, since May 1 of this year, I've spent $37.10 on three 8-lb bags and one 18.7-lb box of WBCL (yes, I've been tracking this with Quicken), which amounts to less than $10 per month over the past four months (note: I have two litter boxes, which I scoop at least once a day). To recycle some statistics from my original post, compare this to the last brand I bought, "Better Valu", which was seemingly cheaper at $2.63 for a 10-lb bag, but utterly reeked (and needed to be thrown away) after just a week—and thus would've amounted to more than $10 per month had I stuck with it.

All that said, my real inspiration for revisiting WCBL is that the company recently launched a new logo (pictured), new packaging and product names, a Facebook page and Twitter feed, and a fully revamped website that features a wealth of information—including several videos. In conjunction with this launch, WBCL has given its blog supporters (like Mic's Tape) the opportunity to share an exclusive coupon with their readers. If you'd like to try WBCL, click here to download a coupon for $4.00 off your next purchase. Please note that the coupon must be downloaded by August 29 (i.e., Saturday), but does not expire until September 30.

Iowa Town Hall Tamer Than in (Kiss My) Massachusetts

2009-08-23T14:01:00.018-05:00

I attended a health care "Town Hall" meeting yesterday morning on the University of Iowa campus in Iowa City, led by local US Congressman Dave Loebsack (D-IA). In fact, you may have spotted me afterward holding the door for Mr Loebsack as we exited MacBride Hall (where the event took place) and stepped out into the beautiful Pentacrest section of campus. (Sure, we didn't talk, but it was still the closest I've come to rubbing shoulders with a "major" politician since shaking hands with the now-disgraced John Edwards in 2004.)

While leaving the meeting, I overheard an older gentleman remark that the forum was "more raucous" than he expected. In contrast, I found the atmosphere to be considerably more civil than I anticipated—an impression undoubtedly colored by footage I'd seen from a similar Town Hall held last Tuesday in brumepelstiltskin's home state of Massachusetts (led by US Rep Barney Frank, D-MA). Take a look at the video:

Besides this Daily Show segment (and a similar YouTube clip), I also caught about 30 min of unedited coverage replayed the other night on C-SPAN. (That's right, I was watching C-SPAN for fun. Do you wanna fight about it?) What struck me most about the MA Town Hall were that the audience's questions (at least the ones that I saw) almost invariably revealed skepticism, fear, and/or opposition to health care reform; and also the frequency with which audience members booed or otherwise interrupted Mr Frank while he attempted to respond to said questions.

In comparison, the atmosphere yesterday in Iowa City was less charged, presumably in part because the local community is predominantly sympathetic to health care reform. That said, there were certainly some fireworks in MacBride Hall, mostly in the form of audience members of different persuasions yelling at each other during questions. But while there were plenty of derisive hoots—and at least one rather spirited cry of "Socialism!"—I didn't spot any pictures of Barack (or should I say Adolph?) Obama sporting a Hitler mustache, and Mr Loebsack was for the most part given polite deference when speaking.

In regard to the meeting's actual content, I felt that Mr Loebsack's tone fostered a positive dialogue, and that his responses effectively addressed many of the misleading/false claims circulating about issues like euthanasia (the bill would neither set up "death panels", nor mandate end-of-life counseling sessions for seniors); a "government takeover" of health care (a public option would not replace private insurance); health care "rationing" (he cited an American Medical Association statement that "the bill would not ration care"); and the bill's potential effects on small businesses (an amendment proposed by conservative "Blue Dog" Democrats would exempt companies with payrolls below $500K from paying for government-sponsored health care).

To be critical, there were instances in which Loebsack's responses could have been more transparent, including his reply to the first audience question, which asked whether reform would entail government funding of abortion services. Loebsack's reply (that nothing in the bill would "mandate" coverage for abortion) echoes similar comments by President Obama, but according to the non-partisan website Factcheck.org (article here), Loebsack's and Obama's statements only convey a sort of partial truth:

The truth is that bills now before Congress don’t require federal money to be used for supporting abortion coverage. So the president [and Loebsack are] right to that limited extent. But it’s equally true that House and Senate legislation would allow a new "public" insurance plan to cover abortions, despite language added to the House bill that technically forbids using public funds to pay for them.

Loebsack also lacked detail when replying to concerns about how reform would be paid for (to paraphrase, he basically said that a public option would initially be paid for by taxpayers, but eventually by individual premiums—similar to private health care plans). Out of all the opposition I've heard voiced about reform, it's the concerns about how to pay for it that strike me as by far the most compelling. To help restore lagging public support for reform, the President and Congress would be wise to better target unease about the price tag.

Lastly, dear readers, if you have anything to say about the issue, please share your thoughts!

I Got Technotrashed

2009-08-19T21:01:00.010-05:00

Sure, the transactions that inspired this blog post were paid for using a Visa (not a MasterCard), but still:

Paying a company to responsibly recycle a 29 lb box of electronic waste: pricey

Paying the US Postal Service to ship said box to said company: pricier

Finding out that said box was lost in transit: priceless!

Sometimes you take out the technotrash, sometimes it takes you out
The company I refer to is GreenDisk, a WA-based e-waste recycler. As mentioned in a previous post, I'd long been meaning to send them some unwanted electronic materials (aka "technotrash"), and last month I finally did it. Into a big box I tossed a pile of old videotapes from my mom; some obsolete audio cassettes from my friend Paul; plus my own accumulation of CD-Rs, cords, jacks, a modem, and more. In the end, the box weighed in at 29 lbs, which GreenDisk charged $9.65 to process and the USPS charged $13.30 to ship (via media mail). As I left the Post Office with a smug look on my face, I thought I'd really done my part to close the e-waste loop. In reality, I was about to get Technotrashed.

Last Friday, I received a letter from the USPS Des Moines Bulk Mail Center notifying me that an "empty wrapper with [my] address on it was found in the mail and it is believed to have been separated from a parcel during handling". After re-reading the letter a few times (and looking up "parcel" in the dictionary), I realized that by "empty wrapper" they meant my box and by "parcel" they meant my 29 lbs of e-waste.

Five days (and many tears) later, I'm still trying to figure out where it all went wrong. Did the box fall off the mail truck en route to Des Moines, and are its former contents now scattered alongside Interstate 80? Did the postal worker who processed my shipment realize that it contained several episodes of Dr Quinn on VHS, and decide to "sully" his employer's reputation and make off with the whole caboodle?

I might never know. But one thing I do know is that if those 29 lbs of e-waste end up in the landfill—which now seems likely—they will not do so in vain. No, because even if nothing else that's good ever results from this recyclatragedy, at least it gave brumpelstiltskin the inspiration to blog again.

Micsamorphosis

2009-05-26T23:11:00.008-05:00

Sometimes a caterpillar evolves into a butterfly, but other times—at least in the virtual world of blogging—it's the opposite that occurs.

Yes, I refer to Mic's Tape. Admittedly, this analogy is a bit silly and perhaps ill-chosen (can a blog that's never floated higher than five posts in a month really be likened to a creature with wings?). But regardless of whether this blog could ever "fly", there's little doubt that in recent months its activity has slowed to a caterpillar's crawl. And just like the voracious appetite of that famously hungry caterpillar, Mic's Tape has surely done nothing over the past six weeks if not gluttonously devour the time (and hopes) of its loyal, beloved readership who've checked for updates each day in vain.

Pressure, blogging down on me
During these six weeks, brumpelstitskin (BS) has been pondering the causes of this reverse metamorphosis. In doing so, it's become clear that at some point we've lost the plot—instead of a joy, blogging has become a burden.

One would think that a blog with six contributors would have no trouble generating new material, and initially this was the case—if Michail ran out of ideas, MC Gallagher was there to pick up the slack, and so on. And while the BS creative process was never effortless (far from it), for the first year or so this effort remained firmly a labor of love. But as BS exhausted our original list of material, and as the endlessly inspiring 2008 political season winded down, a collective case of writer's blog undeniably crept in. Yet as the creativity dried up, a self-imposed pressure to produce undoubtedly remained. Two twin desires—an inner longing to regularly create new material & an outer longing to not disappoint those readers who regularly check the blog for new material—together fed this self-pressure, which in turn fed upon the fun of creating (and the quality of the creation).

Can't we give blogging one more chance?
So, what can be done about this? For about an hour or so (out of the past six weeks of contemplation), BS considered retirement, but quickly thought better of it: our love of writing is way too strong to throw in the towel. Instead, an alternative two-part solution has come to fruition. First, BS has decided to henceforth reject any self-generated expectations of blogging at a certain frequency (e.g., once per week); rather, we will only write when we feel a genuine inspiration to do so (even if it's only once per year). Second, to address our strong desire to not disappoint those who've regularly checked the blog, BS wishes to formally encourage our beloved readers to sign up for automatic notifications of new Mic's Tape posts (this way, you'll only need to check the blog when you're certain there's new material).

To receive automatic notifications, you can either: (a) ask me to set it up so that a notification of each new post will be sent directly to your email address; or (b) subscribe yourself to Mic's Tape posts via a web portal/aggregator service such as iGoogle, Google Reader or Netvibes using the "Subscribe To" tool on the right side of the blog. Just let me know if you have any questions about this.

In closing, here's hoping that the future will regain in fun what it loses in frequency.

A Quarter-Induced Quarter-Life Crisis

2009-04-15T21:51:00.013-05:00

I recently had a “conversation” in my mind—err, in the Mic’s Tape newsroom—about things that make brumpelstiltskin feel old.

For MC Gallagher, it was discovering that the teenage sister of his friend and fellow blogger, Anna MD, had never even heard of a band named Oasis. For Mike-Michael, it was the curious mixture of annoyance and rejection he experienced "late" Sunday night when canvassers for the University of Iowa Student Government (UISG) Go Party ticket (a) woke him up at 10:30pm on a "work night" by knocking on his college-aged neighbors' door, but (b) did not knock on his (27-year-old alumni) door several minutes thereafter.

For me, though, it was a recent realization that the US Mint's "50 State Quarters" program has officially run its course. The 10-year program started with the release of the Delaware coin on 4 Jan 1999—back when I had about as much need for a Roth IRA as I did for a razor—and I remember thinking that it was gonna take somewhere between a "wicked long time" and "forever" for the 50th coin to finally enter circulation. But now, a quick decade later, the Hawaii coin (pictured) is already here. Oh...time [single tear].

Has anything made you feel older lately?

Rien de Fawlty à Propos de Basil

2009-04-08T23:04:00.007-05:00

My cooking horizons were expanded gigantiquement three years ago when mon cher ami Eli shipped me a copy of "Fast Food My Way" by French Chef, Jacques Pépin.

Since all of my culinary mentors up until this point had been Swedes (notably this guy), I was initially skeptical of learning recipes from a Frenchman, but Pépin's kind visage (familiar from PBS) quickly set me at ease, as did his pledge (in the Introduction) to "easily transform [various] ingredients into fast and elegant dishes".

One ingredient introduced to me by Chef Jacques quickly became one of my favorites—basil (pictured below). This green, lusciously aromatic herb is used to great effect in Pépin's recipe for "Summertime Pasta" which I highly recommend to cooks of any skill level, including beginners.

To start, gather the following inside a large microwavable bowl: 3 cups diced (1-inch) tomatoes, 1 diced (½-inch) zucchini, 1 cup diced (½-inch) white button mushrooms, 1 teaspoon salt, ¾ teaspoon pepper, and one-third cup extra-virgin olive oil. Then, cook 6-10 ounces of pasta shells (Jacques calls for 6 oz, I prefer 10). Shortly before the pasta is finished cooking, microwave the bowl of vegetables for ~2 minutes (until lukewarm). Next, drain the pasta and add it to the bowl of vegetables, sprinkle with 1 cup of Parmesan cheese and 1½ cups of coarsely shredded, loosely packed fresh basil. Toss well. Serve immediately.

Bring Out Your Dead Electronics!

2009-03-30T20:40:00.007-05:00

Procrastination has plagued me for years, but now, after merely talking the talk for so long, I'm finally ready to walk the GreenDisk walk.

GreenDisk is a Washington-based company that recycles a wide range of computer and technology-related products. The company originated around two main concerns: (1) protecting privacy via the secure destruction of private information contained in "technotrash" (i.e., obsolete and unwanted computer/electronic materials); and (2) recycling these materials in an environmentally responsible manner. Accepted items include CDs, DVDs, ink cartridges, cell phones, iPods, VHS tapes, computer cables, laptops, and more (full list here).

I first discovered GreenDisk a few years ago (whilst surfing the web for a way to recycle burned CDs), but only now—amid some long overdue spring cleaning—am I at last preparing to send them a big barrowload of e-crap. With that in mind, if you have some "technotrash" of your own that you'd like to get rid of, please let me know and I'll gladly include it in my shipment.

Greenspankonomics 101

2009-03-18T19:33:00.013-05:00

This pie graph depicts the relative amount of money I spent between Dec '08 and Feb '09 on cat food/litter (blue), coffee (yellow), and laundry (green). As you can see, the cost of caring for 2 cats was roughly equivalent to the combined cost of supporting my caffeine addiction and washing my skivvies. Based on these numbers, one conclusion is that I could financially justify the adoption of 2 additional cats simply by giving up coffee and laundry...

The above example is just one of countless insights that money management software packages like Quicken and Microsoft Money can provide. Another insight they offer concerns the topic I've chosen to blog about today: budgets!

The tri-MOLE goal
Any graduate of the Greenspankian school of personal finance can tell you that my most basic recommended savings objective is the "Tri-MOLE Goal": that is, to amass at least 3 (and ideally 6) Months Of Living Expenses (aka "MOLEs") inside a liquid savings or checking account. Of course, to do this, one first needs to know what their personal MOLE actually amounts to. In my opinion, the simplest and most logical way to determine this figure is to create a budget.

While the old-fashioned way of crafting a budget—pen, paper, calculator—certainly remains a respectable option, if you own a personal computer I'd highly recommend using the abovementioned Money or Quicken software instead (note: one or the other is usually included with a new computer). Both programs allow users to set up electronic ledgers (corresponding to checking accounts, credit cards, etc) in which the amounts, dates, and categories of transactions can be easily entered and organized. What's more, transactions can typically be downloaded directly from a bank's website, too.

Once you've entered transactions from, say, the past 3 months, the software can then use that information to automatically generate a breakdown of your average monthly income and expenses and—voila!—you've got yourself a budget, mon ami! With this new data at one's disposal, it's much easier to calculate just how much 3-6 MOLEs really amounts to, and therefore how much money should ideally be tucked away into an emergency savings fund.

Of budgeting and bartering
OK, the time required to read this article is quickly approaching 90 seconds (i.e., the average attention span for reading a financial blog post written by complete tool), so I'd best wrap it up. In conclusion, let me just add that if there's anyone out there who'd like more info about budgeting with Money or Quicken (or even a tutorial), please let me know. I don't charge for my services, although I am now accepting free coffee and laundry.

Can You Rear(end) Me Now?

2009-03-09T23:01:00.010-05:00

In many ways, I've always been a 60-year-old man in an under-30-year-old body. Take, for instance, my instinctively uptight and resolute "they just didn't do that when I was a boy" aversion to using a cell phone while driving.

If I'm conversing with a loved one and realize they're on the road, I feel nervous; if I'm driving and spot a fellow motorist on their phone, I feel less safe; and if I talk on the phone while driving (warning: hypocrite alert!), I feel more dangerous than Iceman accused Maverick of being in Top Gun (see here). Thus, count me among those disappointed by a recent article alleging that a proposed state ban on using handheld cell phones while driving "will likely die in the Iowa legislature this year".

My rationale for supporting such a ban initially stemmed from an intuitive, unscientific assumption that talking on the phone makes drivers (including myself) less cautious behind the wheel. A subsequent review of the scientific literature leads me to the same conclusion. For example, one recent report, which provided a statistical summary of 33 prior studies, concluded unequivocally that "cell phone conversation while driving increases reaction time to events and stimuli".

Thus, I do hope that the state legislature has a change of heart and votes to make Iowa the sixth US state (behind California, Connecticut, New Jersey, New York and Washington) to pass a handheld cell phone ban for all drivers. Can anyone think of a compelling reason why they should not?

The Soiled Fruits of Conscience

2009-02-26T23:19:00.004-06:00

So, feeling particularly inspired by Gustaf’s recent post on "brain food", I decided to buy some antioxidant-laden berries during a recent trip to the food store on Tuesday night. (Yeah, that’s right, I called it a “food store”—do you wanna fight about it?) Anyway, lo and behold, there they were: blackberries, on sale for $1.99. I picked up a carton, sized it up, liked what I saw, and nonchalantly placed it into my grocery cart (into the upper "basket" area by the handle). But alas, it seems my placement was a little too nonchalant as the carton immediately fell out the back of the cart and onto the floor:
Upon impact, the carton popped open, berries flew everywhere, pandemonium ensued. My 1st reaction was to giggle and look around nervously to see if there were any witnesses (there weren't). My 2nd reaction was to realize I had quite the crisis of conscience on my hands. I could...

a) Put a canvas bag over my head and run out of the store with identity concealed and dignity intact.
b) Grab a new container and continue shopping as if the whole thing never happened only to become wracked with guilt a few minutes later when a voice got on the PA to request "cleanup in produce".
c) Go ask the high school kid working at the deli what I should do, and be told: "Screw 'em, man, s*** happens".
d) Get on my knees, put the fallen berries back in the carton, buy them, wash them ridiculously thoroughly with water, and eat them.

Which option do you think I chose? What would you have done?

Feed Your Mind

2009-02-23T22:27:00.007-06:00

I'm not quite sure what caused it (that recent brain MRI, undergone for a research study, which revealed an unexpectedly noticeable degree of CSF in my parietal lobe, perhaps?), but I've lately developed an obsession with eating (and cooking) in a brain-friendlier fashion.

My newfound neural neurosis might also stem, in part, from a research article I read not long ago that discussed the profound effects of malnutrition on the human brain. The study, which used MRI to assess the brains of acutely ill anorexia patients both before and after inpatient hospitalization, reported that brain matter actually atrophies in tandem with starvation-induced weight loss. Fortunately, this (and other) research also suggests that the brain can "grow back", at least in part, with proper weight restoration.

Cerebral sustenance
Whereas the above article offers a more drastic example of how food and nutrients (or the lack thereof) can affect the brain, a July 2008 Economist article discusses subtler, yet more universally applicable, evidence of this phenomenon. Titled "Food for thought", the piece offers various tips on how to "eat your way to a better brain", citing many foods known to enhance learning, improve memory, and protect again age-related cognitive decline.

Such foods include those rich in: omega-3 oils (e.g., salmon, kiwi, walnuts); folic acid (spinach, beans); and antioxidants such as Vitamin C (berries, citrus), Vitamin E (almonds, avocado, vegetable oils), and flavanoids (tea, dark chocolate, red wine). For more details, including a "Brain Food" menu for the entire day, check out the Economist article here.

Crime and Matrimony

2009-02-03T22:43:00.022-06:00

What follows is perhaps the final chapter in the bildungsroman of a protagonist formerly cloaked under the moniker of a "certain (unnamed) member of brumpelstiltskin"; who I'd intended to refer to herein as Mikhail Fyodorovich Brumbelmazov; but who, since he recently chose to reveal his true identity, I shall begrudgingly refer to sans nom de plume as Mike-Michael.

But before I do any such thing, I must first digress into a brief discussion of Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment. Said novel begins with its main character, Raskolnikov, contemplating the following plan: entering the apartment of an unattractive, loathsome, disgusting, miserly, wicked, old "crone" of a woman (a pawnbroker by trade); divorcing her from existence (i.e., murdering her); stealing her money and other valuable pawned items (e.g., jewelry); and then redistributing said riches to the poor.

During this stage of premeditation, Raskolnikov reflects on why most crimes are so easily solved, and decides it is because the perpetrator "experiences at the moment of the crime a sort of failure of will and reason, which, on the contrary, are replaced by a phenomenal, childish thoughtlessness, just at the moment when reason and prudence are most necessary". In contrast, Raskolnikov considers himself a cut above the common criminal, and thus immune to such weak-kneed witlessness.

But in the heat of the moment, when Raskolnikov finally carries out this act, his once-steely self-assurance melts away:

A dark, tormenting thought [rose] in him—the thought that he had fallen into madness and was unable at that moment either to reason or to protect himself, and that he was perhaps not doing at all what he should have been doing ... 'My God! I must run, run away!'

With that said, I now return to our main character, Mike-Michael, who, not two months ago, found himself contemplating this plan: entering the apartment of a beautiful, lovable, charming, giving, angelic, young "gem" of a woman (a social worker by trade)—not with the intent of murder, to be sure, but certainly with an "M" word in mind—and temporarily stealing a specific, rather invaluable article of jewelry (a ring).

Much like Raskolnikov, as Mike-Michael entered the scene of his crime, he felt presumptuously, even arrogantly, confident not only in the inevitable success of his venture, but also in the careful and collected precision with which he would execute it. But also like Raskolnikov, Mike-Michael's aplomb and self-assurance would prove short-lived.

No sooner had he entered the apartment—by means of a spare key he'd cunningly secured beforehand—than a pang of tormenting questions struck his senses: Was the door deadbolted when he arrived, or had he only unlocked the knob? Which way should he lock it upon departing? What if he guessed wrong? How could he make such a crass mistake‽

From there a virtual deluge of doubts poured forth: Had he wiped his boots well enough? What if he left behind incriminating footprints? Where was the jewelry box? What if she noticed that a ring was missing from it? What if the cat noticed that a ring was missing from it? Why was he acting like a thoughtless child? Where had his reason gone? Should he run away?

Fortunately, and somewhat miraculously, our "hero" was able to pull himself together and pull off the heist undetected. But alas, it would all be for naught. For just as Raskolnikov's crime proved to be in vain—he ended up burying his stolen goods in a courtyard rather than selling them off to benefit the poor—so too did Mike-Michael's crime fail to serve its intended purpose.

Namely, later that evening, when he placed the ring atop a glass counter and triumphantly stated, "I think this should answer the question at hand," his jeweler gave it a quick examination before very politely and delicately inquiring: "Do you happen to know what hand she wears this on? Or which finger? One of her...thumbs, perhaps?"

Indeed, it was a thumb ring he had stolen. But by the grace of Don, he still managed to secure the right-sized ring. And by the grace of God, when he presented this ring—a new ring—to her, she said "Yes".

In other words, Mike-Michael is engaged.

Lala La Truths

2009-01-22T23:20:00.024-06:00

A few weeks back, a friend of brumpelstiltskin (code name: clake) invited me to join a music site called Lala. Appended to his enthusiastic invitation was the following disclaimer:

I know this email sounds like I just got a secret second job as a viral marketing wonk, but really I'm just very excited!

I'd like to begin this post by seconding said disclaimer.

That said, I'd also like to proclaim, publicly, that not since my discovery of Rate Your Music—nay, not since the heyday of Napster itself—have I been this head-over-heels, feel-like-a-schoolboy-again, love-love-me-do IN LOVE with a music website!

What so great? In brief, Lala allows you to build a personalized online collection of "web songs" that can be streamed (i.e., listened to online) from any computer an unlimited number of times. Web songs can be added in two ways: 1st, all songs from your computer's preexisting digital collection can be uploaded for free; and 2nd, other songs (chosen from Lala's database of over 6 million tracks) can be added to your web collection for a mere 10 cents (note: creating an account allows you to add 50 such tracks for free).

Lest I get too carried away, though, I should mention that Lala is not perfect. For instance:

It doesn't have licensed access to all artists' catalogs (The Beatles are a key example), although "unlicensed" songs can still be uploaded to your private web collection if you already "own" them on your computer.
The process of uploading your preexisting digital collection (via Lala's Music Mover software) can be quite slow, although it eventually gets the job done.

Fortunately, Lala's many perks more than make up for any shortcomings. For example:

Songs (and albums) not in your collection can be listened to once, in their entirety, for free. This feature allowed me, for instance, to determine that Skylarking by XTC—an album that used to be on my wishlist despite having never heard it—is not something I actually need to own.
Web songs purchased for 10 cents can later be upgraded to downloadable iPod-friendly MP3s for a price comparable to iTunes.
Lala includes a social networking component—an iTunes/Facebook lovechild of sorts—that allows you to "follow" what your friends are listening to, send them instantaneous song recommendations, and promote up to four "songs you think others should listen to" via your own personal "Music Forecast"
What's more, said Music Forecast can be embedded on your MySpace or Facebook page—and, yes, on your blog as well (see the right side of Mic's Tape; clicking on the play button next to each song will play it for free)

La La La Lies - The Who

One last feature to share is that songs can also be embedded directly into a blog post itself. Notice that I've embedded "La La La Lies", a 1965 track by The Who that's remarkable if only because it inspired the name of this very article.

Wig & Pen Triumphs Over Flood

2009-01-14T19:17:00.012-06:00

I was very fortunate, this past June, to be spared the direct effects of the 2008 Iowa flood; many around me (including family, friends, coworkers, and beloved businesses) were not so lucky.

Looking back, one of the images that hit closest to home was that of the Wig & Pen Pizza Pub—perhaps brumpelstiltskin's favorite local eatery—completely surrounded by water. Particularly striking was seeing the restaurant's signature red telephone box almost entirely submerged by the Iowa River.

Thus, it was joyous news last Friday that heralded the Wig & Pen's triumphant reopening, which was tentatively scheduled for this past Saturday (10 Jan). Aside from a new four-foot flood wall, owner Dick Querrey has signaled that little else will have changed. In other words, the establishment's Anglo-cized ambiance (possibly inspired by this pub in Portsmouth, UK?) should retain every ounce of its original charm.

So, please join brumpelstiltskin in paying them a visit soon (or ordering from their east side delivery/takeout location). If you're not sure what to get, do consider their renowned "Flying Tomato" pizza: surely the most delightfully tasty concoction of pan-style crust, mozzarella, sauce, and fresh tomato slices that I've ever had the pleasure of consuming.

Ending the Year With a Clang

2008-12-31T10:33:00.011-06:00

There are times when it's best to destroy the evidence and swear all witnesses to secrecy. And then there are times to just come clean. This, I have no doubt, falls into the former category. And yet here I go:

The first thing I must come clean about is that back in August, when Mickens documented the key-related idiocy of a "certain (unnamed) brumpelstiltskin member", he was referring to me: Mike-Michael. The second thing I must divulge is that, last night, yours truly dropped a chain of keys—house, car, mail, work, and spare—into a fricking sewer drain.

How did said mishap come to pass? Well, it all started with a dinner (frozen Margarita pizza) and a movie (The Dark Knight) date I'd scored with a beautiful woman (Oh, who am I kidding? I've come this far, I may as well bare it all: the film was Made of Honor.)

Just before leaving for my date, I inexplicably performed three impulsive, uncharacteristic, and irrational actions: (1) I changed out of my belt-fastened work trousers and into loose-fitting sweat pants that fall down if I put anything in their pockets; (2) I inserted a recently obtained candy cane—which I typically neglect to eat until at least July—into my mouth; and (3) I decided to check my mail on the way out of my apartment.

Hence, as I exited my flat toward my car, I had a wad of credit card offers in my right hand; a half-foot peppermint in my mouth; and a heavy, key-laden ring dangling precariously between my left thumb and forefinger.

As for what happened next, I honestly cannot recall if what slipped was an envelope from my fingers or the mint from my lips, but one of said culprits prompted the reflexively fatal opening of my left hand that—along with gravity—sent my precious keys into the drain (pictured above) over which I just so happened to be walking.

As luck would have it, the keys were soon recovered: the drain was not more than four feet deep, and using a broom stick and a metal hanger (pictured right) that the aforementioned beautiful woman mercifully drove over to me, I was able to "MacGruber" those bad boys back above ground within an hour.

As I reflect on the half-hour between the original blunder and when my Chivalrous Damsel rescued her Sir in Distress, I'm struck by the fact that I never panicked. Well, except for those 30 seconds when—like a ring that's a half size too small for one's finger—I literally could not dislodge my elbow from the sewer grate I'd moronically stuck my arm through.

That last point brings me to my conclusion: namely, the following list of last night's lessons learned, which I'd like to impart to you all:

Never stick your entire arm through the narrow opening of a sewer grate, especially one situated in a frequently trafficked alleyway.
Affix your spare key to a trusted friend or family member, not to the same chain as the original it's meant to replace.
Patrick Dempsey is significantly, almost impossibly, dreamier on the silver screen than he is on TV.

The Scarlett Letter

2008-12-03T20:23:00.017-06:00

I’m not quite sure what it stands for (a cross between Adultery and Arugala, perhaps?), but the letter "A" has been permanently affixed to my breast.

Let me explain. The source of my shame dates back to 2 Jan 2008, when I volunteered for Barack Obama at a pre-caucus "Stand for Change" rally in Coralville, IA (task: cajoling attendees into signing in and revealing who they intended to caucus for). Before the event, two rumors began to circulate: (1) that, after his speech, Obama would pose for a group photo and individually shake hands with all volunteers; and (2) that actress Scarlett Johansson would simultaneously give a post-rally "stump speech" before a small group of local college students.

If rumor turned to fact, I realized that a terribly conflicting decision would await me: I could meet Johansson, whose breathtaking performance in 2003's Lost in Translation made a heavy-hearted then-22-year-old want to love again; or meet Obama, whose intellectual yet inspiring rhetoric made a cynical then-26-year-old want to hope again.

By the time the actual speech concluded, it had become apparent that both rumors were true. As I anxiously paced the corridors of the Coralville Marriott Hotel & Conference Center—suffering within from a fierce tête-à-tête between passion and reason—I was reminded of a certain Seinfeld episode involving a chess scene.

But just then, fate intervened. Having aimlessly stumbled into a random conference room, I looked up to behold a small group of eager-looking, predominantly male college students—their eyes fixed upon a rather nondescript closed door. Sure enough, Ms Johansson walked through. With one glance at her beauty, it was settled: I would not be meeting Senator Obama.

Fleeting thrill, forever regret
I do not remember much of what Ms Johansson had to say. This is largely because she did not turn out to be the most, say, captivating of public speakers (e.g., to paraphrase: “I’m supporting Barack because he like, you know, wants to stop global warming”), but also because I spent the better part of her speech nervously texting seven of my friends the following note:

Im in a room with scarlet johannsen right now. She is stumping 4 Obama. She is way cuter in person.

In response to this text (surely the most obnoxious $1.40 I’ve ever spent), one friend (code name: "DJ The Pleiades") quite rightly responded with a well-known, two-word phrase perhaps unsuitable for Mic’s Tape (suffice it to say it's an anagram for "Yuck UFO!"). Looking back, said text response was certainly deserved, but it was also redundant; in other words, I had already screwed myself...

For that one fleeting moment, lost as I was in Ms Johansson's smoky voice, I did not question my decision. But eleven long months of sober mornings-after have brought the weight of my actions into sharp, inescapable focus: I could had met the future President-elect, but I blew it.

As I look in the mirror and see this Scarlett Letter staring back at me, I accept what I have become. But what I cannot accept is for even one of you to repeat my mistake. Thus, readers, hear my plea: if forced to choose between Potential Presidency or Certain Celebrity, please, please, please let your cooler head prevail!

Waste Not Iowa City, the Recyclopedia is Here

2008-11-20T22:13:00.010-06:00

Back in July, I shared my dream of an “[online] index of if and where (relative to your zip code) anything and everything can be recycled”.

Four months later, I’m grateful to report that this dream has—on a local level—become a reality. In other words, the Iowa City Recyclopedia is born!

iWasteNot Systems
Before I go any further, allow me to explain how this came to be. It all started with a simple email to iWasteNot Systems—a company whose services, I soon realized, extend far beyond the Recyclopedia.

The iWasteNot philosophy essentially assumes that for every item a person or company can no longer use, there exists another person or company who can use it. To that end, iWasteNot supplies "web-based waste reduction systems" (aka "Materials Exchanges") that allow those who don't needs things to bypass the landfill and instead give/sell them to those who do need things.

The company's most common services (see full list here) are (1) "Residential" exchanges like the Newton Reusable Materials Exchange (in Massachusetts) and the Madison Stuff Exchange (in Wisconsin), which exemplify the idea that “One person’s trash can be another person’s treasure”; and (2) "Industrial/Commercial" exchanges such as the Georgia Industrial Materials Exchange, which prove that “One company’s waste can be another company’s raw material”.

Other offerings include "Agriculture/Biomass/Forestry" exchanges like the Maryland Online Farmers Market and the aptly titled manuretrader.org (which literally facilitates the exchange of manure in and around Pennsylvania); and also "Electronics (E-Waste)" exchanges like this one based in British Columbia.

Recyclopedia: Iowa City
By contacting iWasteNot, I soon found a group of "virtual doppelgangers" who shared (and indeed expanded) my vision of harnessing the power of the Internet to reduce waste. What's more, I also found a uniquely informed and friendly business team who swiftly got my project off the ground, straightforwardly walking me through the initial steps; and patiently facilitated my gradual progress, promptly responding to any questions that arose along the way.

Four months later, the "beta" version of Recyclopedia Iowa City is here. To give you a brief overview of how it works, the main page simply lists an array of everyday items ranging from Aerosol to Vinyl Records (as of tonight, there are 27 entries and counting). Clicking on a given entry will display additional information on (a) how that item can be reduced, reused, or recycled; and (b) the names of specific (predominantly local) "Reuse Businesses and Charities" where that item can be either recycled or donated/sold for reuse.

How you can help
My hope is that, in time, the Recyclopedia will tear the proverbial roof off this sucker we call Iowa City/Johnson County, IA (and that, as a result, any literal roofs that are torn off will be donated to the ReStore or Salvage Barn for reuse)!

How can you aid this goal? Here, dear readers of Mic's Tape, are a few ways:

Read: check out the site & puts its tips into practice
Share: tell friends, coworkers, etc about the website
Factcheck: let me know if any information on the Recyclopedia is incorrect
Suggest: recommend new items that should be added
Enlighten: share any additional Reuse charities/businesses that you know of
Join: if you live outside Iowa City, contact iWastenot and get your area online (I'll help you)

Please consider this blog post an official Iowa City Recyclopedia "message board". Help "finetune" the site: keep the comments, critiques, and suggestions coming!

Obama's Victory

2008-11-05T22:20:00.014-06:00

As supporters of President-elect Barack Obama, last night marked quite a moment for brumpelstiltskin. We did not think it possible to simultaneously experience elation, numbness, and the welling of tears, but there we were.

As Mic's Tape political commentator, it is my honor to blog on behalf of my BS brethren. I will share just a few thoughts.

My rationale for supporting Obama included a firm belief in his abilities to practice and encourage healthy, earnest dialogue; and to inspire, through his own actions and rhetoric, selfless acts toward the common good. His victory speech strengthened my confidence in these abilities. Here is an excerpt:

The road ahead will be long. Our climb will be steep. We may not get there in one year or even one term, but America - I have never been more hopeful than I am tonight that we will get there. I promise you - we as a people will get there.

There will be setbacks and false starts. There are many who won't agree with every decision or policy I make as President, and we know that government can't solve every problem. But I will always be honest with you about the challenges we face. I will listen to you, especially when we disagree. And above all, I will ask you join in the work of remaking this nation the only way it's been done in America for two-hundred and twenty-one years - block by block, brick by brick, calloused hand by calloused hand (emphasis mine).

Earnest engagement
Hearing these words strengthened my own resolve to listen better—not only to the like-minded, but also to those with whom I disagree—and to seek common ground with an unwavering faith that doing so will foster mutual gain. Moreover, as I reflect on my writing during the campaign season, I realize that at times my frustrations boiled over into unmeasured rants (especially concerning Gov Palin). In the future, I hope to temper these flashes with more productive engagement.

Joining in the work
In War and Peace, Tolstoy argued that the events of history are not—as conventional historians suggest—determined by the will and power of world leaders; rather, they are a summation of infinitesimal factors including the collective will of all people involved as well as limitless variables beyond human control. I largely agree, but I believe Tolstoy vastly underestimated the potential for world leaders to shape and inspire said collective will: an ability that Obama appears to be extraordinarily gifted at. If he can inspire the millions who "dug into what little savings they had" and "braved the bitter cold and scorching heat to knock on the doors of perfect strangers" and "volunteered and organized" for the cause of getting him elected, imagine what else he may inspire us to do.

The challenges facing the US and the world are staggering. As Obama said, the government cannot solve all of these challenges; and, given the economy, there are other challenges that it just can't afford to solve through money alone. Thus, in addition to government, collective service and sacrifice are essential. With that in mind, I am ready to "join in the work".

Let's get our hands calloused!

Cat Litter is the New Ethanol

2008-10-27T21:50:00.031-05:00

The word on the street—typified by chants of "Distill, baby, distill!" (hat tip: O'Chihak)—is that the future of Iowa's economy is all about ethanol. But in my opinion, that ain't nothing but a bunch of bollocks.

Rather, it is my firm belief (and that of all within brumpelstiltskin) that Iowa's future fortunes will ride the coattails of a Muscatine-based company named GPC Pet Products.

But before I go on, allow me to briefly explain how we came upon this discovery. It all began with my decision (last month) to adopt two of my feline siblings, Dickens and Dolly, from my parents. Once they'd moved in, I had to buy cat food, toys, scratching posts, nail clippers, and litter. It was the latter item that brought me to GPC.

If it's yellow, let it mellow; if it's litter, flush it down the...
For litter advice, I turned to the experts at my favorite pet depot, who recommended the GPC product, "World's Best Cat Litter" (WBCL). Incredulous at first, I honed it on their slogan:

The only litter good enough to be called "World's Best".

"World's Best"? How on Earth do they back up such a boast? For starters, WBCL is naturally made (from corn kernels), safe, clumping, long-lasting, odor-controlling, biodegradable AND...wait for it...flushable! If you don't believe me (or even if you do), please click below to view the official product demo video:

To put all these claims to the test, I purchased a 7-lb bag of WBCL and instructed D & D to do their worst. Five weeks later, I'm pleased to report that all three of us are extremely satisfied with the results. Granted, unlike the demo salesman, I've yet to eat the litter, but I do feel qualified to assess the video's other claims. As suggested, WBCL is indeed dry, dust-free, and clean-feeling; highly absorbent and clumpable; odor-repelling and—insofar as cat litter goes—quite pleasant-smelling (not unlike the scent of home-brewed beer).

I’m also impressed by its longevity and cost-effectiveness. To be clear, WBCL is quite expensive up front—I’ve spent $20.12 so far on just two 7-lb bags—but after six weeks I’ve still got a half bag left, and thus fully expect to make it a full two months off a Jackson plus change. For comparison, the previous brand I purchased (a 10-lb bag of “Better Valu”, sold at a gas station) cost only $2.63, but stunk to high heaven and needed to be changed after about a week. So, at $20.12 per two months versus $2.63 per week, the long-term costs are essentially even.

"Litter" in name only
Personally, though, my favorite aspect of WBCL is its apparent earth-friendliness. Whereas the “Better Valu” scenario detailed above would add about 40lb of litter to the landfill each month; WBCL is biodegradable, flushable, and therefore necessitates zero new trash.

So, if you own a cat (or know someone who does), please consider using (or recommending) WCBL. If enough of us do so, we may just break Iowa's economic dependence on local oil.

*Admittedly, it makes brumpelstiltskin slightly uneasy that California—a very environmentally progressive state—"discourages" the flushing of cat litter (a fact denoted by an asterisk on the WBCL bag), but unless evidence emerges that doing so is somehow environmentally-unfriendly, Mic's Tape will continue to use, flush, and endorse WBCL with relish.

Credit Crisis for Dummies (By a Dummy)

2008-10-18T18:09:00.018-05:00

In the midst of the current financial crisis, people are looking to experts they can trust. Why then have I, Greenspanke, the so-called “finance minister” of the world’s 1,942,080th most popular blog, remained so conspicuously silent on the matter?

In short, I am a fraud.

Contrary to the many epithets (e.g., “First Dude of Finance” and "The Montell Jordan of Money") so often heaped upon me, in truth my economic “expertise” only extends to personal money management—not national (let alone global) finance as a whole.

As such, asking me to weigh in on something as wholly beyond my grasp as the world financial crisis is much like, oh I don’t know, asking someone with no apparent insight into the intricacies of domestic and international politics to run for US vice president.

All of that said, I have done some research (aided greatly by my mentor, TG), and will take a stab at briefly summarizing the current crisis.

Sowing the seeds of catastrophe
Roots of the crisis largely stem from the Federal Reserve’s 2001 decision, under then-chairman Alan Greenspan, to lower the “federal funds rate” (FFR) and then keep it low for several years (e.g., under 2% until Sep 2004). The FFR had a strong ripple effect on other interest rates like those for mortgages and car loans (see below graph). Thus, having the FFR so low for so long basically flooded the world with cheap money.

House of cards
In conjunction with this influx of easy cash, the real estate market underwent a meteoric rise in home values and, in addition, the banking system implemented an astounding reduction in eligibility requirements for would-be borrowers. Thus, not only did buying a home become a more tempting investment, but obtaining a loan to do so became absurdly easy. As my mentor put it: "no money down, no income documentation—your mom's cats could have gotten loans". As a result, the system enabled everyday people like Joe and Mario the Plumber to do things like buy homes beyond their means; or take out "second mortgages" on the seemingly ever-rising equity in their homes to buy things they didn't need like flat screen TVs and second houses.

A related issue is that mortgage salespeople (now affectionately known as "predatory lenders") had every incentive to sell high-risk loans (e.g., "subprime" and "adjustable rate" mortgages) to high-risk borrowers. Namely, the lenders got a commission for their sale and, what's more, the institution they worked for often turned around and sold the new mortgage (and its risk) to other entities like Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac. By the banks financing these loans to begin with, and by Freddie and Fannie buying such "mortgage-backed securities" from the banks, all parties put themselves at the incredibly risky mercy of (a) home prices continuing to rise and (b) borrowers continuing to make their mortgage payments.

Death of a party
Alas, circa 2006 the US housing bubble burst and home prices started to fall. Making matters worse for borrowers, by this point the Fed had started raising interest rates. Adjustable interest rates spiked, mortgage payments went way up, borrowers began to default on payments, and home foreclosures sprang up in droves. Soon enough, mortgage-back securities became "toxic assets" and the financial institutions who'd bet the farm on them—such as Bear Stearns, Freddie and Fannie, and Lehman Brothers—saw their risk come home to roost.

Bailout blues
In the wake of all this, stock prices have plummeted and the banks have taken huge losses, which has greatly impaired the banks' capacity and willingness to make new loans to businesses, individuals and each other. With lending (i.e., the glue that holds the economy together) in such dire straits, the US government has decided to step in with its projected $700b Troubled Assets Relief Program (TARP, aka bailout).

So, what is the bailout aimed to do? I think I'll quote my mentor (again) on that one:

The bailout package will help some because the government will buy from the banks $700 billion worth of the worst crap they have on their balance sheets. [The banks] will not get face value for this stuff - maybe somewhere north of the current very low market values which exist because there is essentially no market. In addition, the accounting changes that are part of the bill will allow the banks to sell the stuff, perhaps realize the losses over a period of time instead of immediately, and therefore have some capacity to lend, which may help lower rates for real people. As the economy is run by credit this is necessary but not sufficient for getting the economy going again. This will also help restore some confidence to arcane things like the interbank and commercial paper markets which are frozen or near frozen and in which rates are very high and impeding activity (emphasis mine).

In short, then, it seems the bailout aims to save the banks arses and, by doing so, help restore the banks' ability to lend and also restore overall confidence in the marketplace.

No time to blink
In conclusion, I trust that the elementary, bullet point regurgitation of other people's ideas presented above will put to rest rumors that I am anything but a novice when it comes to big time economics. That said, if the next president asks me to be treasury secretary, I will answer him yes because I have the confidence in my readiness, and know that you can't blink. You have to be wired in a way of being so committed to the mission, the mission that we're on, reform of this country, and victory in the war. You can't blink. So, I wouldn't blink then, if asked to be treasury secretary.

The Soft Sexism of Low Expectations

2008-10-04T12:37:00.029-05:00

In the wake of Thursday night's VP debate between Sen Joe "Bosniak" Biden (D-DE) and Gov Sarah "Toxic mess on Main Street that's affecting Wall Street" Palin (R-AK), it seems like everyone's talking about how Palin "exceeded expectations".

But let's be frank: this didn't take much doing. As one reader of Andrew Sullivan's blog, put it:

She didn't poop her pants. So basically she did great!

To be fair, Palin accomplished far more than simply not defecating herself. Namely, she established herself as a very formidable 21st century, reality-TV-era, style-over-substance debater: she displayed a firm command of the talking points her campaign advisers had crammed into her; she effectively zinged her opponent several times over past inconsistencies between himself and Obama; she spoke in a confident, aggressive fashion (albeit quickly and a bit nervously at points); she avoided obvious gaffes and awkward silences; she did not look physically unattractive; she looked straight in the camera, smiled, talked and winked at the same time; she correctly pronounced "Ahmadinejad" five times (and four times in the same response!); and she implemented a folksy, "doggone it"-infused delivery style that made me want to drive a stake through my ears and gouge my own eyes out—but evidently connects with a vast swath of the US electorate.

So again, to be clear, she did "exceed expectations". But let's also talk about what she did not do. She rarely answered questions directly (if at all). She failed to explain how exactly she and John McCain would "change" Washington or end the war in Iraq. She utterly lacked substance. She failed to demonstrate—much like George W Bush—that she: (a) understands that the word "nuclear" has one "u", not two; or (b) possesses an ounce of intellectual curiosity or independent thought (e.g., the kind needed to stray even one inch from talking points and note cards). And, most crucially, according to this CNN poll, she convinced only 42% of viewers (compared to 87% for Biden) that she is qualified to assume the presidency.

Straight talk?
In my opinion, though, Palin's biggest shortcoming was highlighted during the first half of the debate after Biden pointed out to moderator Gwen Ifill that the Alaska Governor had not answered a question about deregulation. When Ifill then asked, "Would you like to have an opportunity to answer that before we move on?" Palin responded (see 2:45 mark in this 10-minute debate recap):

I'm still on the tax thing because I want to correct you on that again. And I want to let you know what I did as a mayor and as a governor. And I may not answer the questions that either the moderator or [Biden] want to hear, but I'm going to talk straight to the American people and let them know my track record also (emphasis mine).

Not going to answer the questions that either the moderator or Biden want to hear? What does that mean? What types of questions was she referring to? For some insight, let's review clips from the three interviews (with Charlie Gibson, Sean Hannity, and Katie Couric) that Palin granted prior to the debate (please watch):

Based on these interviews, it seems the questions Palin "may not answer" are those that: (a) cannot be sufficiently answered using memorized talking points; (b) refer to topics that she does not adequately grasp; and (c) press for specific examples to supplement the vague, ridiculous, rambling bullcrap that she (like every politician) often spews out.

Fortunately for Palin, when it came to the VP debate, the McCain campaign successfully insisted that:

[Her and Biden would] have shorter question-and-answer segments than those for the presidential nominees [which allowed] much less opportunity for free-wheeling, direct exchanges between the running mates. McCain advisers said they had been concerned that a loose format could leave Ms. Palin, a relatively inexperienced debater, at a disadvantage and largely on the defensive (emphasis mine).

Clearly, the plan worked. As evidenced by her above response to Ms Ifill, Palin used the debate's short 2:00 segments to her advantage. She did not have to be free-wheeling, but rather—thanks to a virtual lack of direct exchange and cross-examination—she successfully avoided specifics and glossed over questions she did not want to (or could not) answer with folksy, prepackaged, sound-bite-infested, stump speech drivel.

A sexist, disrespectful double standard
In my opinion, the "expectations" that Palin exceeded are—by the very nature of their lowness—demeaning and sexist. Had a male candidate for VP performed as Palin did Thursday night, I seriously doubt anyone would have lauded his performance as "better than expected"; or that that the conservative National Review editor Rich Lowry would have been smitten enough to write:

I'm sure I'm not the only male in America who, when [he] dropped [his] first wink, sat up a little straighter on the couch and said, "Hey, I think [he] just winked at me." And [his] smile. By the end, when [he] clearly knew [he] was doing well, it was so sparkling it was almost mesmerizing. It sent little starbursts through the screen and ricocheting around the living rooms of America. This is a quality that can't be learned; it's either something you have or you don't, and man, [he's] got it.

Rather, had Palin been a male, I suspect that the overwhelming majority of analysts would have bashed said candidate's performance, pronounced Biden the decisive winner, and lambasted John McCain's judgment for selecting said candidate to potentially be next in line to the presidency. To not apply the same standard to Palin is disrespectful to the fact that women are just as capable as men, and should be cheered and jeered based solely on their words and actions—not their identity.

Beyond gender
That said, this whole situation extends far beyond gender. For instance, it's inconceivable that female politicians like Sen Hillary Clinton (D-NY), Sen Elizabeth Dole (R-NC), Gov Kathleen Sebelius (D-KA) or Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice would receive this kind of treatment, either. Likewise, when former Rep Geraldine Ferraro (D-NY) ran for VP in 1984, the Mondale campaign certain didn't rewrite the debate format to avoid free-wheeling and direct exchanges, nor did they shield her from unscripted press conferences. In contrast to Ferraro, who faced reporters within days of her selection, Palin has yet to hold a press conference—36 days and counting since McCain picked her—which is both unprecedented and astounding.

So what is it about Gov Palin that warrants this special treatment? Is it her beauty pageant good looks, or because she's so clearly—borderline pitiably—unready for presidential prime time? I don't know. But if I have to listen to myself think about it any longer, I will drive a stake through my ears, so at this point I must digress.

Dig Out Your Soul: an Oasis Obsession Uncovered

2008-09-28T10:06:00.015-05:00

As arguably the most devoted (and perhaps only) remaining Oasis fan living in America, 24 June 2008 marked quite a day for this bloke. The reason, of course (as if you didn’t know!), is because that’s when the band officially announced upcoming release details for their 24th UK single, "The Shock Of The Lightning" (out tomorrow), to be followed by the 6 Oct release of their 7th studio album: Dig Out Your Soul.

Given that coming to terms with Oasis' post-1997 fall from greatness—documented to great effect both in this book and this film—has been perhaps the defining struggle of my late adolescence/early adulthood, I was at first hesitant to blog about this new album, lest it dredge up any painful memories.

But after more thought, I decided I couldn’t resist. Informing said decision was MC Gallagher’s Law of Correlation, which states: “The more MC Gallagher likes an Oasis album’s cover art, the more he likes its songs”. That said, it seems auspicious that I quite like the new record's artwork (pictured above). But before I elaborate on that, allow me to start from the beginning of the band's discography.

For starters, one should interpret my thoughts on this matter with the foreknowledge that I regard Oasis' first two records, Definitely Maybe (1994) and (What's the Story) Morning Glory (1995), as the defining albums of my youth. Moreover, I consider the covers for said albums to be utterly iconic.

But then came Oasis' 3rd, 4th, and 5th records—Be Here Now (1997), SOTSOG (2000)^*, and Heathen Chemistry (2002)—which I once referred to (in a darker moment, mind you) as: "a cocaine-driven monumental f*ck up, 48 minutes of drivel, and the single lowest exemplar of artistic output in human history, respectively".

Given the Law of Correlation, I should have seen it coming: the self-indulgent cover of Be Here Now (above, left)—complete with a Rolls Royce in an effing swimming pool—was just as over-the-top as its songs’ bloated production; the New York City skyline depicted on SOTSOG (above, middle) evoked a certain Irish Americophile (Bono), which only heightened the disappointment of Oasis’ own electronica-influenced experimentation vis-à-vis other bands like, say, U2; whilst the blurred and rather unmemorable image atop Heathen Chemistry (above, right) foretold how little its tunes would impede the band’s continued fading from seemingly everyone’s mind but my own.

Thank God, then, that the simple yet appealing train shot gracing Oasis' sixth record, Don't Believe The Truth (2005), was correct in suggesting a band who'd finally gotten their act back on track.

All of this finally brings me back to the Dig Out Your Soul cover, which again, I fancy. First off, it's probably the giant cutout hands (and wishful thinking), but was Terry Gilliam involved at all? No, apparently it's the handiwork of London-based designer Julian House, who's previously done covers for Primal Scream and Stereolab among others. The vibrant colors and butterfly evoke this cover by The Kinks (a good thing) whereas that apple is surely an homage to The Beatles' self-founded record label or else a clue that Liam Gallagher's diet no longer consists solely of cigarettes and blow. And as far the piece's middle left portion is concerned, the row of crucifixes is a bit disconcerting, but I've chosen to focus instead on the turntable (classy) and lightbulb (not a CFL, but still).

In conclusion, to the one person still reading this (hi Mom!), I've decided to interpret what looks to be a butterfly emerging from a mushroom cloud as a good omen—especially when said image graces the newest album of a band you're desperately hoping can transcend a trifecta of mid-career bombs.

Then again, if the reader comments to this article are any indication, some might say my decidedly positive reaction to the Dig Out Your Soul artwork is a bit misguided. Here's one of my favorites (written 15 Jul 2008, 9:51am, under the pseudonym "mullet"):

Alternative album title:
"Dig out your sh*t and smear it on the cover"
No doubt when you play it, there'll be sh*t in your ears too.

But such talk does not phase me in the slightest. In fact, I am so confident that this new record will be tops that I've convinced brumpelstiltskin—despite Greenspanke's staunch objections—to invest in this $99 deluxe limited edition box set.

So what do you think? Did I make the right call? Or will this purchase go down in history as the most anyone's ever spent to effectively put sh*t into their own ears?

^* SOTSOG = Standing On The Shoulder Of Giants (their typo, not mine).

Soda Point Induced Neurosis

2008-09-18T21:53:00.020-05:00

Given our previously documented interest in Big Soda's largest reward programs (My Coke Rewards and Pepsi Stuff), brumpelstiltskin were quite intrigued to learn of a new "diagnosis" apparently being considered by psychiatrists in charge of revising the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM).

Namely, in yet another Mic's Tape exclusive, we've learned that the DSM-V (expected release date: May 2012) may include so-called "Soda Point Induced Neurosis" (aka SPIN). According to an anonymous email (signed, "A disgruntled former assistant to then-APA President Dr. Steven Sharfstein"), SPIN is characterized first and foremost by the "compulsive hoarding of soft drink bottle caps".

The email, which we received yesterday, went on to read: "To be diagnosed with SPIN, the patient must meet at least four of the following criteria during the same 2-week period, which must include (1) and (2)":

(1) Moderate to severe interest in at least one of the following:
Free music, movies, and electronics
Free sweepstakes entries
Becoming a walking billboard for Coca-Cola and/or its corporate partners
(2) The patience to redeem 10 to 12-digit nonsense codes via manual online entry

(3) Continued hoarding despite embarrassing social/interpersonal consequences (e.g., being spotted by a co-worker while removing a Diet Pepsi Max bottle from a trash can)

(4) Recurrent hoarding despite future dental ramifications for self or loved ones (e.g., unintentionally enabling girlfriend's formerly under-control pop addiction)

(5) Brazen disregard for potential legal repurcussions (e.g., unlawful removal of empty cardboard 12-pack containers from local recycling facility)

(6) Diminished ability to make rational decisions (e.g., buying Pepsi instead of Cherry Coke—even though the latter's on sale and you like its taste better—because you're "one point away from that hot new David Archuleta download").

So, is SPIN really destined for the DSM-V? Or is our source for this story suffering from some kind of caffeine-induced psychosis? Only time will tell.

The Skinny on Why TMZ is Thick

2008-09-09T23:41:00.013-05:00

While walking through my office waiting area the other day, a certain magazine cover (pictured right) caused me to do a double take.

At first glance, it looked like it could have been an Onion article: a picture of a beautiful, healthy-looking celebrity—oddly paired with a “Stop Calling Me Fat!” byline—accompanied, no doubt, by a satirical article cleverly ridiculing our culture’s increasingly twisted ideals of “normal” weight and physical attractiveness.

But in actuality it was the 17 Dec 2007 issue of People magazine, in which the cover story detailed the reaction of actress/singer Jennifer Love Hewitt's (aka J. LoH) after gossip website TMZ.com published the above photo alongside the headline: "We know what you ate this summer, Love -- everything!"

Hewitt responded directly via her own website; here is an excerpt:

I've sat by in silence for a long time now about the way women's bodies are constantly scrutinized. To set the record straight, I'm not upset for me, but for all of the girls out there that are struggling with their body image.

A size 2 is not fat! Nor will it ever be. And being a size 0 doesn't make you beautiful.

Hewitt's concern for those "struggling with their body image" is very well-founded, especially since numerous scientific studies such as this one suggest a "direct effect of media exposure [to a thin ideal body image for women] on eating disorder symptoms".

Interestingly, Hewitt has been back in the headlines recently, only this time it's for having lost weight. The decision to seemingly flaunt her successful diet on the cover of Us Weekly has led some to question the consistency of her stance.

While there's little doubt that Hewitt's words and actions convey a mixed message, the stand she took against the media should be commended all the same. Our culture's distorted, unrealistic and unhealthy "thin ideal" needs to be challenged, and media outlets that shamelessly reinforce it—like TMZ—should be reviled.

Nobody Expected a Womanish Politician!

2008-08-31T11:00:00.018-05:00

History's great events warrant commemoration.

On Thursday night—45 years to the day since Martin Luther King's "I Have a Dream" speech—Sen Barack Obama (D) paid tribute to MLK prior to becoming the first African American candidate to accept the Presidential nomination of any major US political party.

And Friday morning—some 38 years since a trio of Cardinals led by Michael Palin unexpected crashed a Monty Python sketch (see below video)—Alaska Governor Sarah Palin unexpectedly crashed the 2008 US Presidential race when Sen John McCain (R) announced her as his running mate.

Given Palin's striking lack of national political name recognition, the US news media has spent much of the past 48 hours trying to decipher the rationale behind McCain's surprise decision. Well, here in brumpelstiltskin, rather than decipher, we decided to pick up the phone and call McCain's campaign chief, Steve Schmidt [pictured, below left]. In a Mic's Tape exclusive, here's what Schmidt had to say regarding the logic behind the Palin choice:

Our chief weapon is fear...fear and—wait, you asked about our campaign's strategy in general, right? Oh, about the strategy behind the Palin choice, specifically?

Well, on that front, our chief weapon is surprise...surprise and a pair of X chromosomes—our TWO weapons are a lack of a Y chromosome and surprise...and energy proficiency—our THREE weapons are an XX sex chromosome, surprise, proficiency on the issue of energy...and an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope's position on abortion—our FOUR...no—amongst our weapons...amongst our weaponry are such elements as—let me start again...

Amongst Palin's weaponry are such diverse elements as: womanishness, surprise, energy efficiency, an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope's position on abortion, and some nice executive experience—Oh damn! [at which point he hung up]

Regarding Schmidt's final point, Palin will indeed bring the GOP ticket a dose of executive experience; granted, she's only been Alaska's Governor for two years, but that's nonetheless two more years than Senators McCain, Obama, and Joe Biden (Obama's VP) combined. In addition, she's clearly a formidable voice on energy/oil (a huge political issue in Alaska), which signals that McCain will continue to "drill" into voters minds the assertion that whereas the Republicans would lower gas prices by tapping offshore (and perhaps ANWR) oil supplies, Barack Obama would merely hand out tire gauges.

On the topic of Palin as a person, I've discovered that she: (a) seems quite likable; (b) has a son who will soon head to Iraq; and (c) has faced significant adversity in her personal life (e.g., her four-month-old son, Trig, has Down Syndrome). That said, all of these points can also be attributed to Joe Biden, so it's difficult to imagine that the RML (Running Mate Likablitity) factor will swing votes disproportionately in either direction.

Otherwise, while Palin is obviously knowledgeable on Alaska's state economy, I've seen no evidence to suggest that she's especially qualified on the national economy (like, say, Mitt Romney), which will do nothing to reassure those concerned by McCain's own Dec 2007 remark that: "The issue of economics is not something I've understood as well as I should".

Furthermore, Palin appears to have zero record on foreign policy. One of the few comments of hers to have surfaced in reference to a foreign policy issue stems from a Dec 2006 interview for Alaska Business Monthly. In response to the question, "How do you feel about sending more troops into battle, as President Bush is suggesting", she said:

I've been so focused on state government, I haven't really focused much on the war in Iraq. I heard on the news about the new deployments, and while I support our president, Condoleezza Rice and the administration, I want to know that we have an exit plan in place; I want assurances that we are doing all we can to keep our troops safe. Every life lost is such a tragedy. I am very, very proud of the troops we have in Alaska, those fighting overseas for our freedoms, and the families here who are making so many sacrifices. [emphasis mine]

Many voters will find this apparent lack of foreign policy experience concerning in someone who would be second-in-line to the Presidency—especially since McCain has a history of health problems and, if elected, would be the oldest President in US history. Moreover, Palin's lack of experience in general should completely undercut McCain's argument (on which he'd gained significant traction) that his campaign boasts a thicker resumé than Obama/Biden.

The more I think about it, the more McCain's choice reeks of an assumption that would-be Hillary Clinton supporters will be either angry or gullible enough to conclude that McCain—simply because he's chosen a female running mate—is somehow more in tune with their interests than Sen Obama. That Gov Palin explicitly praised Clinton during her speech on Friday only heightens one's sense that this was largely a political ploy aimed at Hillary Democrats.

However, given the stark contrast between (a) the GOP/McCain's platform and (b) the political priorities of those he's trying to court—not to mention Sen Clinton's enthusiastic embrace of Sen Obama at last week's Democratic Convention—I cannot imagine this apparent ploy working to McCain's advantage. To the contrary, I predict that the number of Hillary Democrats who will now vote McCain because his VP is a woman will be roughly offset by the number of paternalistic Republicans who will now not vote McCain because his VP is a woman.

In conclusion, Palin is an accomplished and impressive politician who may very well prove to be a quick learner when it comes to campaigning and debating on national economic and foreign policy issues. But if she isn't quick on her feet, McCain will surely come to regret his choice.

Gullible's Travels

2008-08-17T21:50:00.018-05:00

Recent events have been quite momentous, at least to the extent that never before had all six members of Brumpelstiltskin (BS) vied so aggressively for the rights to document the same topic. Greenspanke, for instance, jumped at the financial implications; whilst Michail dubbed it an ideal tie-in to his planned piece on Presidential historian Allan Lichtman; and MC Gallagher, with not a hint of sarcasm, decreed it the stuff of rock operas.

In the end, though, the events were judged so ridiculous and coincidental, so cruel yet comical—so, well, Dickensian—that we decided that I (as the closest thing Mic's Tape has to a literateur) should have the honor of attempting to do them justice. So here, without further ado, is the recent tale of a certain (unnamed) BS member's first 48 hours in his new apartment.

Chapter I
On 31 Jul 2008, after weeks of tempestuous sorting and tumultuous cleaning amid the howling winds of procrastination; after hours of bitter packing amongst the frigid limitations of a 14-foot U-Haul; after nearly backing said U-Haul into the porch of his soon-to-be former residence, thus commencing a turbulent transport over the roiling potholes of cobblestone streets; and, finally, after nearly securing sweet shelter (for both himself and his belongings) from the chaotic storm of moving, our young hero naively closed the auto-deadbolting door to his new abode—thereby locking 10% of his belongings, four friends, and himself without; and 90% of his belongings; one friend’s purse, and his house KEY within!

Chapter II
In response, rather than pay Landlord a scorchingly steep after-hours unlocking fee of $50 (before his lease had technically even begun, no less), our protagonist opted to sojourn at a friend's, where he lay awake, tossing and burning in vexation until the seething heat of self-reproach at last yielded to sleep. He awoke the morning of 1 Aug 2008 and, with the searing smoke of his recent blunder still thick in his mind, drove to Landlord for the spare key, and thence back to his new parking lot where, with his final load of belongings in tow, he prepared to re-enter his new abode, and thus extinguish any last embers of exasperation.

But alas, after shifting into Park he realized that he could not remove his car KEY from its ignition. Believing it to be physically stuck (and not bound by electrical glitch), he ingenuously responded by removing a set of pliers from his IKEA toolbox (situated irresistibly beside him in the passenger seat), which of course resulted not in success but in quite literally breaking his key in two—half in said pliers and half still in the ignition—hence reigniting the fiery flames of frustration!

Chapter III
Soon after phoning Mechanic to order an expensive ignition removal device, our hero somehow managed to remove the car key using the considerably less expensive apparatuses known as thumb and forefinger, and thus canceled the aforementioned order only to then, upon checking his mail, make the wrenching discovery that his postal box lacked a latch for locking, which he knew could come back to screw him should his hammered college-aged neighbors decide to open his box and theft coveted Netflix envelopes (or other valuable parcels). At once, he bolted back to the phone to request prompt maintenance from Landlord and, on the following afternoon of 2 Aug 2008, he returned home to find new hardware on his postal box.

But lo and behold, into said hardware his mail KEY no longer fit! Now on the verge of going completely nuts (and convinced that surely a new key had been left on the premises), he proceeded to implement a lengthy, scouring search of his new dwelling. And just when we thought every last inch had been sifted through, and just as he prepared to clamp his head within the liberating vice of a stiff drink, he looked up and saw—there, in the most obvious and rational of places—his new mail key taped to the inside of his new front door. "Oh, what a massive tool I am", he thought to himself as he grabbed the key. And from there he could only smile.

A Day Late, a Five Cent Deposit Short

2008-07-27T22:33:00.024-05:00

I felt like I'd shown up five minutes late to the Duran Duran vocalist audition to find Simon Le Bon already in the band. I was devastated, crestfallen, inconsolable.

For a good two years I'd been crafting this concept of a website: a user-driven, wiki-style index of if and where (relative to your zip code) anything and everything can be recycled.

Have a copy of George W. Bush's A Charge to Keep that you no longer want, but no one will take, let alone buy? No problem, your nearby facility, City Carton, just added book recycling to its repertoire. Does your company go through loads of ink cartridges that are ending up in landfills? Well, this company will pay you to let them recycle those. These are but a couple of the potential success stories I envisioned.

Anyway, I had the concept, the desire, and even a badass web design company to help make it happen. All I needed was a name.

And then, about a month ago, it came to me: Recyclopedia.

There it was. I felt like a schoolboy again, I was so excited! Within minutes, I called a friend to ask him if he was interested in helping. He was. From there, I began to brainstorm the logistics (possible costs, etc). But then, on a whim, I googled "Recyclopedia", which led me to THIS.

Recyclopedia.net? With a mixture of horror and wonder, I read the site's description:

This is a website to help you find information on how to correctly dispose of things. First choose your location and then find what you're trying to get rid of on the list. We'll tell you whether it can go out with the trash, in your blue box, to a charity or if it needs special attention.

That there was a website out there whose mission so closely paralleled my own, that I could believe. But that it literally had the exact same name, that was just eerie.

Well, for the last month I sulked—like a big, bitter baby—about being beaten to the punch. After more reflection, though, I now realize that all that matters is that someone has put this idea into effect. So, if your city/county is missing (like mine is) from Recyclopedia's small but growing database of participating areas, please join me in heeding their call:

If you don't see your location listed, drop us a line and we'll tell you how to get your area online.

Yellow Beer Challenge

2008-07-16T23:08:00.036-05:00

Between the ages of 18 and 24, I made the unlikely transition from bar-shunning teetotaler to pub-rating beer enthusiast.

While my taste in beer has no doubt become a bit snooty—take my infatuation with imperial stouts—I like to think myself less a snob than a fan of the craft as a whole.

As such, it was an absolute privilege to partake in the first ever "Yellow Beer Challenge" (YBC), held on Jun 28, in which myself and seven other imbibers faced off in a blind taste test of various American light beers.

When asked why he created the YBC, the event's founder/emcee (code name: "Seamus O'Chihak") put it this way:

Look, any geek off the street can tell a Surly Darkness from a Lindemans Framboise. But if your palate's refined enough to distinguish an Old Milwaukee from a Michelob Golden, well, then you've shown me something.

The rules were simple. First, O'Chihak unveiled his five mystery brews, each in its own unmarked container; and second, he handed each participant a list of nine possible brand identities. We then tasted, described and guessed the identity of each beer. Finally, when all five had been sipped, we ranked them from 1 (best) to 5 (worst).

The results are summarized below (beers listed, from left to right, in order of presentation). Included in the data table are the percentage of raters who correctly identified each beer; the final YBC rankings; and, for comparison purposes, each lager's rating on the "beer connoisseur" websites Beer Advocate (BA), given in letter grades, and Rate Beer (RB), given in percentiles from 0/worst to 100/best:

As you can see, despite being the clear "critical" favorite, LaCrosse could only muster a disappointing tied-for-third finish. Rather, the event's big winner turned out to be PBR, which basically "blue" away even its closest competitor, Bud Light, which itself managed an impressive Silver despite a "0th percentile" rating from Rate Beer.

Interestingly—nay, fascinatingly—while our panel of eight deemed PBR best and Busch Light worst, an astounding 63% of judges wrongly identified the taste of Busch Light (the worst beer) with the name of PBR (the best beer)! By contrast, not one judge correctly identified PBR as PBR. This finding suggests an intriguing phenomenon. Namely, while people seemed to intellectualize PBR as being the worst (e.g., "This beer tastes like crap—it must be PBR" or "This beer is great—it can't be PBR"), their more primal instincts (i.e., taste buds) told a different story altogether.

Equally captivating were the judges' descriptions. For instance, one rater described LaCrosse as "an unfortunate beer, with a hint of misery, that finishes despite your best effort", while another judge, in reference to Busch Light (which he mistook for Icehouse), remarked, "I'd pay $18.95 a case and drink it in high school".

On a personal note, I was proud to learn that I completely mixed up my three favorite lagers: identifying PBR as Busch Light, Busch Light as LaCrosse, and LaCrosse as PBR. Call me crazy, but in the perfect symmetry of such a failure, I can't help but feel like a success.

Netflix Maintains the Right Profile

2008-07-05T22:45:00.018-05:00

Countless couples Clash concerning cinema. While one digs romantic dramas like A Place in the Sun, the other prefers classic westerns like Red River, and so on. But riding to the rescue in recent years has been Netflix, the DVD-rental-by-mail service whose "Profile" feature offers an ideal antidote to film-related fighting (aka "flickering").

In brief, Profiles allow couples (or families, roommates, etc) to join Netflix under the same account (in terms of billing), but maintain completely independent sub-accounts with unique queues, friends, ratings and tailor-made recommendations. This way two friends, as an example, can split the cost of the 4 DVDs at-a-time plan (for $12 each/mo) without sacrificing any of the personalized features they'd get if they each purchased separate 2-at-a-time plans (for $14/mo).

As beneficiaries of said service, Brumpelstiltskin were absolutely gutted when, on Jun 25, Netflix announced intentions to eliminate Profiles. Our finance guru, Greenspanke, responded by downgrading Netflix stock to "Triple Sell" whilst MC Gallagher even threatened to "join the fooking competition".

We were not alone in our angst. Indeed, a chorus of disgruntled fans of the service sounded off on blogs and forums, while others banded together via both an online petition ("Save Netflix Profiles") and a Facebook group ("People annoyed that Netflix is eliminating profiles").

And lo and behold, it worked. On Jun 30, Netflix sent its members an email, the first line of which simply read: "You spoke, and we listened. We are keeping Profiles". Within minutes, the usually cautious Greenspanke upgraded NFLX straight past "Don't Buy" all the way to "Risky".

On its official blog, Netflix further clarified both their initial decision and the subsequent about-face:

Because of an ongoing desire to make our website easier to use, we believed taking a feature away that is only used by a very small minority would help us improve the site for everyone. Listening to our members, we realized that users of this feature often describe it as an essential part of their Netflix experience. Simplicity is only one virtue and it can certainly be outweighed by utility.

Call us naive, but such language is welcomely candid coming from a big business: the original "sin" seems to have been genuinely well-intentioned; the apology, gracious and humble. But such actions should also boost profits: not only has a great service to customers been spared, but in the process great customer service has been proven.

In others words, while it was only balk/bluster to begin with, we won't be joining the competition any time soon.

Long Haired Freaky People Need Not Apply?

2008-06-12T22:36:00.015-05:00

Question: Could this candidate (pictured left) be elected President?

According to an exclusive Mic's Tape/Gallup poll of 706 likely voters, the answer is a resounding (94%) "No".

Why is this? Is it because voters are not yet ready to elect an androgynous commander in chief? You might think so, but according to our survey "Gender Bending" would only hinder 11% of the populace. Rather, the overwhelming reason why voters (82% of our sample) would not support this candidate is, quite simply, "Long Hair".

Still playing the hair card
Given recent events, our survey is no mere hypothetical exercise. On the contrary, while America might not want to admit it, Hillary Clinton's recent decision to end her 2008 Presidential bid has undeniably thrust "hairism" back into the fore of US politics.

The failed candidacy of Mrs Clinton—once considered a shoo-in for her party's nomination—has left many of her supporters searching for someone to blame. While potential scapegoats range from the media to the often damaging exploits of former President Bill Clinton, our survey points to a deeper-rooted explanation.

"I attended one of Hillary's rallies in Scranton", said Stanley Hallauer, a 79-year-old retired construction worker and one of our respondents. "I liked what she had to say until she took off the construction hat she'd been wearing and I realized she had long hair. Right then, I shouted, 'Imagine that, huh, me voting for you!', and just stormed out. Seriously, she looked like a godd*mn hippie".

Such antagonism highlights the apparent failure of Mrs Clinton's "short-hair revolution" (SHR) which, according to this definitive chronicle of Hillary's Hair, began with her 2001 election to the US Senate. Implemented (presumably) to confront speculation that "if [her hair] was long, she wouldn't be taken seriously [as a Presidential candidate]", the SHR culminated in The Huffington Post's Feb '08 declaration that Hillary had at last obtained "presidential hair". But alas, it seems the revolution did not go short enough.

Confounding our fathers?
While Article II of the US Constitution clearly states that "No person [...] shall be [...] eligible to [the Office of the Presidency] who shall not have attained to the Age of thirty five Years", there are no such limitations (e.g., "not greater than 3.5 centimeters") placed on Presidential hair length. And given our founding fathers' fashions, is this really any wonder? Who can forget the original George W's prolific ponytail, John Adams' lusciously lengthy locks, or Thomas Jefferson's "Monticello Mop"? And yet, could any of these venerated figures be elected President in 2008?

All this begs the question: When did the American electorate become so dead set against long-haired leaders? Professor Bruce Meyfrark, formerly of Temple University, has researched this topic extensively for his upcoming book, "Founding Follicles". In it, he writes:

Many attribute hairism to a Tea Partyesque, anti-British reaction to Beatlemania, but in truth the movement predated the Fab Four by over a century. Indeed, not since James K. Polk (1845-9) has our nation elected a long-haired President, and a major party hasn't fielded a maned candidate since the Democrats/Liberal Republicans nominated Horace Greeley way back in 1872.

Whatever its root cause, the bottom line is that hairism remains an unseemly flake of dandruff on the proverbial shoulder that is our great country. In John McCain and Barack Obama, we are once again left with two close-cut candidates lacking the one "change" necessary to help our nation finally confront this issue. But it's not too late. With five months left before election day, there is still time for McCain and Obama to let their hair grow out and, in doing so, let the "Long-Hair Revolution" begin!

Losing My (Artistic) Edge

2008-05-31T13:17:00.037-05:00

I think it was Goethe who said: "He is happiest, be he king or peasant, who finds trust in his hairstylist".

Wait, there's no such quote? Damn. That would have made such a great opener. All right, let's start all over again.

New England 1, Midwest 0. In the ongoing battle for cultural superiority, that is the latest score.

The reason, of course, is "The Artistic Edge" hair salon's recent relocation from Chicagoland, Illinois to Framingham, Massachusetts (79 Main St, Suite 103).

An exquisite skill with the blade
It has been my pleasure—and that of the entire Brumpelstiltskin blogging troupe—to be a confident client of The Artistic Edge for seven gloriously stylish years. Never had MC Gallagher let someone trim his unibrow, nor Greenspanke his neck hair, until we met Jen, the salon's founder and ace stylist, whose skill with the blade makes Sweeney Todd look like the Dabbling Barber of Geek Street.

Those who knew her as a young prodigy agreed that Jen was born to do hair—that it was in her blood—and many questioned if formal training would even be necessary. But the finest education she would receive: first under the tutelage of her grandma (herself an accomplished hair stylist); and later through the 1500-hour program of world-renowned cosmetology academy, Pivot Point International. Thus equipped with a first-rate fusion of nature and nurture, Jen graduated from Pivot Point in 2001. Soon after, the Artistic Edge was born.

While the salon offers a range of advanced services (e.g., color, highlights, lowlights), personally I’ve always received the traditional men’s cut. That said, there’s nothing traditional about Jen’s approach even to this basic service, which creatively combines a firm grasp of current popular trends with an instinctive awareness of individual wants and needs. Click here for an exclusive Mic’s Tape-sponsored coupon offering first-time clients a 20% discount off any of Jen’s services—which also include updo’s for special occasions (sample updo, above right).

Chairside manner par excellence
But besides being a master of her craft, Jen’s personality and demeanor—not to mention the salon itself (pictured above and below)—place The Artistic Edge among the most comfortable and inviting of salon atmospheres. Indeed, she’s the kind of stylist you suspect could have won the friendliest superlative in her high school yearbook.

I did not fully appreciate this latter point until Jen’s relocation left me in need of a replacement, and forced me down the street to the neighborhood Cost Cutters. "God, how many cowlicks do you have?" the stylist inquired as I sat down, thus launching a steady barrage of insults and barbs far sharper than the shears she would use to massacre my once-magnificent mane. “Do you even use conditioner?” she continued, a look of disgust on her face, before exclaiming: "Ugh, your hair is getting all over me"!

The contrast could not have been more profound. Like Shakespeare's Lear, cast overnight from kingly castle to forbidding tempest, I entered Cost Cutters expecting the royal treatment, but left feeling (and looking) like a Pumpkin Pie Haircutted Fool.

In the wake of such experience, it is with great zeal that I call upon New Englanders everywhere to capitalize on the glamorous gift that has landed in your midst. Trust one who knows: a salon combining a time-tested, hair-designing prowess with client-focused personality is a rare commodity to be cherished. So get thee with haste to The Artistic Edge, my friends, for a planeload of chic-deprived Midwesterners will be right behind you!

Mike-Michael (pictured left, before his first visit to The Artistic Edge) will look like this once more if he doesn't book himself a ticket to Boston ASAP.

Rate Your Music

2008-05-21T22:34:00.031-05:00

When asked if I'm on Facebook, my standard response of "No, but I am on Rate Your Music" is usually met by a blank stare that seems to say this.

So, what is Rate Your Music (RYM)? To put it verbosely, it's a delightfully handy online wonderland of user-driven musical minutiae in which ratings yield recommendations, like-minded pop/rock/soul mates are unearthed, and “critics” (i.e., paid music nerds) take a backseat to "normal people” (i.e., unpaid music nerds) like me (visit my profile here).

Or, to put it simply, it’s a great way to discover new music. Here’s how:

First, if you invest a little time and “catalog” (aka make a list of) and rate (on a scale of 0.5-5.0 stars) your music collection, RYM will (much like Netflix’ website) generate custom recommendations based on your input. It will also create a “compatibility list” of other RYM users whose tastes most closely resemble your own, and then allow you to peruse their collections. More recently, they’ve implemented a “predicted rating” feature which “represents how strongly RYM thinks you will like” any given album. Using this tool, I can tell, for example, that I should heed a friend's recent advice that I check out Ágætis Byrjun by Sigur Rós (predicted rating: 4.46).

Second, it’s also interesting—and this doesn’t require making any ratings—to simply look and see what “average” people think is best. For instance, this list of the RYM users' top albums of all-time has led me to many a gem (such as Odessey & Oracle by The Zombies). This can also prove useful in deciding where to begin with a certain band (like when a glance at The Cure's discography led me to start with Disintegration). And then there are the inevitable surprises, like when I learned that—shockingly—the top-rated single of 1985 is not Eddie Murphy's immortal classic, "Party All The Time" (video here).

Ronaldo's Own Personal Crying Game

2008-05-14T22:50:00.006-05:00

It once seemed inevitable that the dominant sports story for Spring 2008 would be the May 12 return of American Gladiators. That was the way it was supposed to go down, anyway.

But as the last few weeks have shown, life is full of surprises. Just ask Ronaldo.

Ronaldo, age 31, is a Brazilian football (aka soccer) superstar, a three-time former World Player of the Year (1996, 1997, 2002), and the most prolific goalscorer in FIFA World Cup history. However, it's an off-the-field "hat trick" that's earned him headlines as of late. Cue the video:

Our non-Portuguese-speaking readers may be a bit confused by this clip, but perhaps caught the words "prostituta" and "travesti"? These words were used because on April 28, Ronaldo (to quote the BBC's Jane Hadden): "left a nightclub with what he thought were three female prostitutes and took them to a motel. It was only after he got there that he discovered the women were actually men".

Ohh...

For the full details (including an excellent video clip in English), I'd recommend this story by BBC News.

To put it briefly, though, once Ronaldo realized there were "too many balls on the field", he promptly signaled his disinterest and offered the prostitutes $600 for their time. While two accepted, the third, Albertino, threatened to leak the incident to the Internet unless Ronaldo paid him $30,000.

In response, Ronaldo went to the Rio police and fessed up, and now Albertino is being investigated for attempted extortion. In his testimony to police, Ronaldo said: "I'm not going to pay [this money]. I may be publicly condemned, but I did nothing wrong".

While Ronaldo is indeed blameless from a legal standpoint (prostitution is not against the law in Brazil), many still question whether he, in fact, "did nothing wrong". Nonetheless, it's strangely refreshing to see a superstar athlete just come clean for once. In the era of Steroids and Co., it's hard to imagine many US athletes following suit.

Kentucky Fried Clinton?

2008-05-07T23:22:00.009-05:00

In the wake of last night's Indiana and North Carolina Democratic primaries—the latter won decisively by Barack Obama—a slew of leading political pundits (led by NBC's Tim Russert) have declared the race all but over.

They point to the popular vote. They point to states won. They point to funds raised, and pledged delegates, and superdelegates. But for all their pointing, the pundits have missed the point.

Namely, the factors they mention—"the math"—mean nothing. No, all that matters is which campaign, Clinton's or Obama's, has what it takes to go "coast to coast". With the game on the line, which candidate has the skills to grab the proverbial defensive board and take that mofo the length of the court for a "game-changing" (nay, game-winning) slam dunk?

In other words, it all boils down to who can win Kentucky. That's right, KY. Cue the map:

As you can see, each candidate is but one state away from an electoral Connect Four (i.e., winning contiguous states from the Atlantic to the Pacific). In their respective quests, Clinton (dark blue) need only bridge Indiana and Tennessee while Obama must fuse Virginia and Illinois. For each, Kentucky is the coveted tie that binds.

Note, too, how crucial Oklahoma turned out to be. Thanks to the clearly biased cartographer's decision to assign Obama the northern half of Texas, this whole issue would already be decided if Clinton hadn't "panhandled" Obama (55% to 31%) in the Feb 5 Oklahoma primary—a victory historians have already dubbed the "Barack Block".

But again, it is the May 20th Kentucky contest that should ultimately decide this thing once and for all. For afterwards, in his or her victory speech, the winner will finally be able to claim:

East coast? West coast? It don't matta. Come November I'll get you to the White House lickity split. No sh*t!!

Be a Pioneer (Tips to Fight Global Warming)

2008-05-04T21:22:00.007-05:00

A lot of people say Mic's Tape will never offset the carbon emissions it creates (by virtue of the sheer number of energy-wasting computers our fan base has to use in order to access us). One critic even told us to go piss up a flagpole (as opposed to our current policy?).

In response, we wish to underscore our environmental commitment by promoting a few websites—here, here and here—that offer everyday tips on how we as individuals can collectively fight global warming.

A few of the suggestions we'd heard before, such as replacing traditional incandescent light bulbs with more cost- and energy-effective compact fluorescent light bulbs (CFLs); and using public transportation or carpooling (instead of driving alone).

But most of these tips presented new, previously unconsidered challenges; of these, we've recently begun to practice: (a) letting hot leftovers cool before putting them into the fridge; (b) using reusable containers for drinking water (instead of disposable plastic); (c) unplugging electronics, such as cell phone charges, when not in use; and (d) bagging groceries with cloth bags such as these instead of paper or plastic.

Please take a look at these suggestions, and challenge yourself to put at least one into practice. Also, feel free to share any other tips that you feel are especially important.

Pepsi's Got It (The Right Stuff)

2008-04-29T22:26:00.015-05:00

My palate has been wooed by many a soda/pop in its day, and never more effortlessly than by A-Treat Birch Beer and Barq's Red Crème Soda. But alas, given my remoteness from both Allentown (PA) and a Kroger in Ohio, respectively, I haven't tasted either of those luscious libations in quite some time.

In their stead, I sometimes sip the sweet carbonated nectar of locally-operated Millstream Brewing Company, but by and large I've sold my taste buds to the industry's two biggest behemoths: Coke and Pepsi.

For years have I vacillated—like John Kerry in the wind—between the two. On one hand, nothing compliments a fresh Italian hoagie quite like an ice-cold can of Pepsi. But if popcorn is the course, and I need something to wash down the handful of Pop Secret Homestyle I just devoured (after noisily smearing it on the side of the bag), nothing but a Cherry coke (served in a pretentious little cup on the rocks) will do. Yet, I've always been more attracted to women who drink Pepsi. And so the debate raged on...

But after my recent dual discoveries of My Coke Rewards (MCR) and Pepsi Stuff (PS), the jury is no longer out. Not only is the actual website for PS (integrated with Amazon.com) clearly superior to MCR's slow and clunky design, a comparison of the actual "rewards/stuff" reveals, in my opinion, a slam dunk case in favor of Pepsi.

For simplicity's sake, I'll restrict my argument to digital music-related prizes. While a single-song download from Rhapsody.com (not iPod-compatible) "costs" 33 Coke points (aka 11 caps), a single-song DRM-free (i.e., iPod-compatible) download on Amazon.com costs a mere 5 Pepsi points (5 caps). About the only thing Coke offers for 5 caps is a "virtual jacket" for your avatar to wear around CC Metro, which is a computer-based, alternate reality island (à la Second Life) shaped like a Coke bottle (seriously).

Brumpelstiltskin's very own music critic, MC Gallagher, who's been known to rummage through the recycle bin in his workplace's break room in search of bottle caps, put it this way: "If given the choice between an actual mp3 or some make believe clothing shite—even if it's a powder fooking blue tuxedo—you better believe I'll take the first option every time".

The Price is Wrong, Bitch

2008-04-23T23:08:00.017-05:00

As the human sibling of 11 (count 'em!) illegitimate feline brothers and sisters (of whom 36% are pictured left), I have firsthand experience with the profound ramifications of cat overpopulation.

For starters, there are the inevitable ribbings from friends that result as a corollary of Tigue's Law, which states that "as the number of cats that one adopts approaches ten, the probability that each new cat's name will be utterly ridiculous approaches one". (Just ask my younger brother, "Window Scratcher".)

Then there's the price. According to the ASPCA website, the average CPC (cost-per-cat) is $1035 for the first year and $670 for each year thereafter. Even if you remove all "luxury" expenses (i.e., toys/treats, health insurance, collars, scratching posts, carrier bags, and "misc."), you're still looking at $440/yr on food, litter and recurring medical expenses (plus an extra $280 during Year 1 on vaccinations, etc.). Given that the average lifespan of an indoor-only cat is 15 years, even under the second "luxury-free" scenario, a typical cat will cost $6880.

But there's more to this topic than monikers and money. Just a few weeks ago, amid an impulsive web search, I was unexpectedly struck—like a cat scratch—by the discovery that the scientific community has in recent years gone absolutely b.a.n.a.n.a.s. for felines. For the fever of curiosity that ensued, I knew the only prescription was to sink my teeth into the the first article I could get my hands on: "A review of feral cat control," written by Dr Sheilah Robertson of the University of Florida, and soon to be published by JFMS (that's The Journal of Feline Medicine and Surgery for you lay people).

Dr Robertson begins her review by defining the "feral" cat. Unlike my 11 siblings—who are among the estimated 90m "owned/pet" cats in the US—feral cats are not fortunate enough to be cared for by empathetic humans like my parents. Though sometimes defined in the literature simply as "escaped domestic cats gone wild" (aka the lost and abandoned), in truth the feral population also includes a massive subset who were never domesticated to begin with (e.g., barn and alley cats). While some rely on humans for varying degrees of food and shelter, they are all by definition free-roaming, and there are an astounding 25-100m of them in the US alone.

In her review Dr Robertson also details six main issues in the feral cat debate: (1) public health and zoonotic disease; (2) spread of disease to other species; (3) spread of disease to "pet" cats; (4) effects on local wildlife and ecosystems; (5) public nuisance (e.g., "the noise they make, fecal contamination and their presence around restaurants, cafes and other public places"); and last but certainly not least, (6) the welfare of the cats themselves.

The article also discusses potential solutions to this issue, but that will have to wait until a future post. In the meantime, for a clue, click here.

(This is the first installment in a planned two-part series)

A Punchup at a Wedding (No No No No No No!)

2008-04-15T23:03:00.007-05:00

Barack Obama (Apr 6 in San Francisco; original story here; Obama's clarification here):

You go into some of these small towns in Pennsylvania, and like a lot of small towns in the Midwest, the jobs have been gone now for 25 years and nothing's replaced them," Obama said. "And they fell through the Clinton Administration, and the Bush Administration, and each successive administration has said that somehow these communities are gonna regenerate and they have not. And it's not surprising then they get bitter, they cling to guns or religion or antipathy to people who aren't like them or anti-immigrant sentiment or anti-trade sentiment as a way to explain their frustrations

Hilary Clinton (Apr 12 in Indianapolis):

Thom Yorke (of Radiohead, circa 2003-2004; full lyrics here):

"The pointless snide remarks
Of hammer-headed sharks
The pot will call the kettle black
It's a drunken punch-up at a wedding, yeah"

FICO Matters

2008-04-09T23:33:00.015-05:00

Thinking about money management can be a sh*tty business, but it can also have profound effects on our lives. As the Dickens character Mr McCawber (from David Copperfield) put it:

Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure nineteen pounds nineteen shillings and six pence, result happiness. Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure twenty pounds and six pence, result misery

In the quest for personal financial freedom, there are numerous weapons at our disposal, and notable among this arsenal is the double-edged sword known as the credit card. Why double-edged? On one hand, its usage can yield reward points and cash back; allow us to pay for “big ticket” items in monthly installments (rather than one lump sum); and make us more attractive to future moneylenders. On the other hand, though, it can unleash monstrous interest payments; lure us to purchase items we don’t really need and can’t really afford; and make us less attractive to future lenders. For these latter reasons, my financial mentor (code name: “TG”) once told me:

You should use debit cards instead of credit cards unless you pay the bill in full religiously every month. If not get out the scissors.

That said, I initially charge about 30% of my expenditures to credit cards (largely on gas and groceries using this mamma jamma), so it’s definitely not my intention to scare anyone away from them. Rather, my goal is to shed a little light on how they can affect our “FICO” (aka credit) score.

F.I.C.O., which is named for Fair, Issac & Co. (the company who created it), is a number (in the 300-850 range) that indicates one’s “credit worthiness”. In other words, moneylenders (of car loans and home mortgages, etc.) perceive people with high credit scores as likelier to repay what they borrow—and thus more trustworthy. As a consequence, people with higher scores are more likely not only to qualify for a loan in the first place, but also to pay a lower interest rate on the loan they receive (which can save a lot of $ over time).

Since it can clearly pay off to maintain a high FICO score, it's helpful to know how one is actually calculated. To help answer this question, I turned to the folks at The Motley Fool and Bankrate. As it turns out, there are but five major criteria:

Past payment history (35%):

Consistently paying your bill on time will help you immensely; late payments (esp. by 30 days or more) will not.

Amount owed (30%):

As one's outstanding balance creeps nearer to one's credit limit (aka closer to "maxing out"), one's FICO score creeps downward.

Note: this is where the wisdom of paying your bill in full each month really shines through (not to mention the costly finance charges that doing so prevents).

Length of credit history (15%):

The longer your history, the higher your score.

Mix of credit (10%):

FICO rewards borrowers with both unsecured/revolving loans (e.g., credit cards) and secured/installment loans (e.g., car loans and home mortgages).

New credit applications (10%):

A lot of inquiries (specifically, those resulting from applications for new credit) in a short amount of time can lower your score.

Admittedly, this is pretty dry stuff, and can thus be difficult to remember. Lucky for us, though, Brumpelstiltskin's very own Mickens has composed the following limerick to help keep it all straight:

Card Payments Too Often Belated,
Limits Maxed But Never Abated,
A History Quite Short,
Plus Inquiries For Sport,
And No Mix Makes F.I.C.O. Low Rated

In conclusion, if you're wondering how to go about about checking your FICO score, I've got great news for you: doing so is easy and free. Namely, the 2003 Fair and Accurate Credit Transactions (FACT) Act "requires each of the nationwide consumer reporting companies — Equifax, Experian, and TransUnion — to provide you with a free copy of your credit report, at your request, once every 12 months". You can do so online any time via this website.

Greenspanke (left) is finance minister for Mic's Tape and manages a separate Quicken file for each member of Brumpelstiltskin

Into the Mystic

2008-04-01T21:19:00.008-05:00

I'm quite certain that the most beautiful song I've ever heard is on Van Morrison's Astral Weeks. I just don't know which one it is ("Cyprus Avenue" or "Madame George").

Originally released in 1968, the above first came into my hands eight or nine years ago, and has since aged better than any other record in my collection. That said, with the exception of Moondance (1970), it wasn't until fairly recently that I dove headlong into the rest of Morrison's discography.

Part of my delay, no doubt, stemmed from the fact that much of Morrison's "best" work ('68-74) proved curiously difficult to find in shops. Fortunately, two recent developments have opened the floodgates: in Fall '07 iTunes struck a deal to distribute his collection digitally while in January Polydor/Universal commenced its re-release of 29 post-1970 albums in remastered format.

To take a step back, it bears mentioning that Morrison (above), born in Northern Ireland in 1945, first made waves as frontman for Them, a "British"-invasion band whose 1964 (self-written) song "Gloria"—later covered to great effect by Patti Smith among others—continues to stand up as a truly formative component of the rock single's lineage. Coupled with 1967's "Brown-Eyed Girl", released as a solo act at age 21, Morrison's early (albeit isolated) triumphs were alone sufficient to cement a legacy.

But it is his albums that truly separate Morrison, and none more so than Astral Weeks, a set of eight songs virtually unmatched in its cohesiveness (and available for a mere $5.95 on iTunes). Recorded in just three sessions, it is a lush, vibrant mixture of acoustic guitar, improvisational jazz rhythms, and delicate Celtic flutes and reeds—arched all of it by deeply personal lyrical evocations of Morrison’s Belfast youth. And yet despite this personal nature, the record inexplicably manages to somehow seem universally nostalgic. Indeed, there is no set of songs that more effectively recollects my own adolescent experiences in Lake George, NY: cherished memories of summery simplicity in a world filled with wind and waves against trees and rocks, contemplation and conversation, guitar and radio (but never television).

As I continue through his works, I have basked in the ethereal flute-driven "Country Fair" (closer of 1974's majestically pastoral Veedon Fleece) and reveled in the infectious jubilation of (the 1978 title track) “Wavelength”. In the process, a thought began to take shape: a thought given form by no less an authority than Bob Dylan. According allmusic.com, Dylan once said (in reference to Morrison’s 1971 country-tinged ballad “Tupelo Honey”) "that [the song] has always existed and that Morrison was merely the vessel and the earthly vehicle for it".

A quote from the man himself further fleshed out this thought of mine. As cited in Into The Music by Richie Yorke, Morrison has humbly claimed that:

['Madame George'] just came right out...The song is just a stream of consciousness thing, as is 'Cyprus Avenue'...I didn't even think about what I was writing.

Indeed, it just seems that this is the type of music that can strengthen one's faith in a higher power who guides us if only we open our ears to listen.

Mic's Tape

The Iowa City Mockjob?

The Montreal Screwjob

Do Re Mi Fa Oh Si Di

Stevie Wonder Talking Book (1972)

ColdplayA Rush of Blood to the Head (2002)

Jimi HendrixAre You Experienced? (1967)

SuedeSuede (1993)

PJ HarveyTo Bring You My Love (1995)

The BeatlesSgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (1967)

TelevisionMarquee Moon (1977)

OutKastAquemini (1998)

RadioheadAmnesiac (2001)

Nick DrakePink Moon (1972)

WilcoYankee Hotel Foxtrot (2002)

LoveForever Changes (1967)

John LennonImagine (1971)

Iggy PopLust for Life (1977)

BlurParklife (1994)

Bruce SpringsteenBorn to Run (1975)

George HarrisonAll Things Must Pass (1970)

The Stone RosesThe Stone Roses (1989)

LCD SoundsystemSound of Silver (2007)

RadioheadHail to the Thief (2003)

Kate BushHounds of Love (1985)

The KinksMuswell Hillbillies (1971)

Richard & Linda ThompsonI Want to See the Bright Lights Tonight (1974)

Elvis CostelloImperial Bedroom (1982)

Johnny CashAt Folsom Prison (1968)

The KinksSomething Else by The Kinks (1967)

Neil YoungEverybody Knows This Is Nowhere (1969)

The Rolling StonesBeggars Banquet (1968)

Guns N' RosesAppetite for Destruction (1987)

David BowieAladdin Sane (1973)

Jeff BuckleyGrace (1994)

Neil YoungRust Never Sleeps (1979)

Gram ParsonsGP (1973)

The KinksLola Versus Powerman and the Moneygoround (Part One) (1970)

NirvanaMTV Unplugged in New York (1994)

Neil YoungHarvest (1972)

Bruce SpringsteenDarkness on the Edge of Town (1978)

Neil YoungOn the Beach (1974)

PulpThis Is Hardcore (1998)

Led ZeppelinLed Zeppelin II (1969)

The SmithsThe Smiths (1984)

Big StarRadio City (1974)

Sufjan StevensIllinoise (2005)

The KinksThe Kinks Are the Village Green Preservation Society (1968)

The BeatlesLet It Be (1970)

RadioheadIn Rainbows (2007)

David BowieHunky Dory (1971)

The Flying Burrito BrosThe Gilded Palace of Sin (1969)

Bob DylanJohn Wesley Harding (1967)

Led ZeppelinLed Zeppelin [IV] (1971)

Big Star#1 Record (1972)

The CureDisintegration (1989)

WeezerWeezer [Blue Album] (1994)

U2The Joshua Tree (1987)

The Velvet UndergroundLoaded (1970)

PrincePurple Rain (1984)

The SmithsStrangeways, Here We Come (1987)

PulpDifferent Class (1995)

Belle and SebastianIf You're Feeling Sinister (1996)

Bruce SpringsteenNebraska (1982)

Bob DylanHighway 61 Revisited (1965)

The Velvet UndergroundThe Velvet Underground (1969)

Stevie WonderInnervisions (1973)

RadioheadKid A (2000)

The Beach BoysPet Sounds (1966)

David BowieStation to Station (1976)

Joni MitchellBlue (1971)

The Rolling StonesExile on Main St. (1972)

Patti SmithHorses (1975)

Pink FloydThe Dark Side of the Moon (1973)

Pink FloydAnimals (1977)

The ClashLondon Calling (1979)

The WhoQuadrophenia (1973)

Van MorrisonAstral Weeks (1968)

Arcade FireFuneral (2004)

The Velvet UndergroundThe Velvet Underground & Nico (1967)