It seems to this causal observer that there is a high level of frustration bouncing around The Internet lately. The causes seem myriad - changing of the clocks, early Christmas displays, racist white guys saying "lynch mob," a beloved weblog comment section being unceremoniously plowed into the hard, unforgiving earth by an unforgiving meteorite of piping hot dog shit, Red Sox winning the World series - the list goes on.
One of my mom's live-in boyfriends (Steve? Maybe Lance. No, it was Steve. Pretty sure.) gave me some solid advice once. "You only hafta tell her you're gonna pull out, you don't actually hafta do it." He also said "bad feelings, like tiny ships, belong crammed into bottles." You know, Steve was kinda weird. But he did have a Trans Am.
So, for today only, let's honor Lance Steve and consider this post our feelings bottle. Fill it to the brim. Be a Guy Who doesn't hold back. Get it out of your system and into this system of electrons and wires. Continue to make shitty metaphors until you punch yourself in the sack. As Enya once said: Hate away, hate away, hate away.
Remember, only through hate can you find joy.
This malicious Tweet has been brought to my attention by an old friend, and I've found myself inspired to puke out a page again.
I spoke to Gamboa and he has assured me that he specifically stopped short of the word HATE when stating his opinion of said remix, but merely offered that it was not one of Mr. Kelly's better songs and he did not enjoy it, and also that Mr. Peacock is a noted troll who is unnecessarily obsessed with "bulk" when it comes to his physique and also has been photographed sipping a Mangorita and inexplicably proffers that there is a letter T at the end of the common expression "oof" but mostly that it was not a great song, is what Gamboa stayed focused on.
As a renowned music critic, I feel compelled to defend my handsome friend GC, here. As always, the caveat here is that arguing over music should never be considered anything more than an exercise in silly fun, provided that the combatants are being honest to themselves and their own ears rather than trying to like something because they're "supposed to". Music is sensory; it's really no different than food. "My ears do not find that sound pleasurable" should really be the only criteria.
But hey, it's fun to elaborate! So let's try! As you all surely remember, it's been noted here previously that I tend to respond negatively to "catchy"/"gimmicky" songs, and this one fits within my parameters of that subjective genre. What is it, other than that? The beat is "meh", the lyrics are atrocious, the vocals are forgettable to damn near nonexistent. It is a "party jam", I suppose. But why is it THE party jam? Mr. Peacock referred to it, and I quote, as "one of the best songs of the 2000s, easily." When mh stopped s ing, I thought of some reasonable categorical compares. Off the top of my head, I'll take Next's "Too Close" (not 2000s, I know, not important), Jagged Edge's "Where The Party At", and even Mr. Kelly himself's "Fiesta (remix)" over "Ignition", and it's not even close. Better beats, better vocals, less reliance on the catchy/gimmicky crutch. My ears like them better, and for that I will not apologize.
Also important to this discussion is the concept of oversaturation, which is arguably the number one enemy of a smash hit. I may have liked this song at one time, I honestly cannot remember. But if I did, I couldn't possibly anymore. It has been played in my presence approximately 59, 612 times, +/- 3,498. It belongs on the impossibly long list with tunes like "Regulate", "Hypnotize", "Gangster's Paradise", "Waterfalls", "Ms. Jackson", etc etc that I simply don't need to hear again. Ever. That's the fate of so many tunes, in an era where FM radio was still relevant, music television stations were playing music, and I had a misguided foray into social interaction. Only the extreme upper-echelon of tunes can avoid this death by omnipresence, and "Africa"s don't grow on trees, people.
"Your Body's Callin", "You Remind Me...", "Can't Sleep...", "Down Low", that's my R. Kelly. "Ignition", to me, is closer to "Trapped in the Closet" R. Kelly, and "Trapped in the Closet" is an inarguable crime against humanity. In summary, GC was (predictably) spot-on in denouncing this song's "greatness". I should also note, however that he did not particularly contest the allegation of being born without a soul. Not sure what to make of that, tbh.
Thanks for the kind words, gent, but it goes without saying that I haven't done anything in months that is worthy of mention with the effort that those cats have been putting in. Ain't easy, indeed...
AMagicianNamedGodI know others, more prestigious and prolific than I, have said it before and better, but I'd like to show my thanks to all the guys at HFTE, Skeevy and his Balog, and, especially, Shitehawk for curating the nonsense that happens here every day. Seriously, it makes the whole experience richer and weirder and more fun, and I know that shit ain't easy. So, cheers.
However, here's a look back at some balogging from better days. We laughed, we cried, we cried because we were laughing... -The buffoonery really began here. And oh, would it continue...-Pageviews galore? Pageviews galore.-Boomroasted!-Boomroasted again! And, of course, Nickly!-History!-More history! (remember: doomed to repeat itself)-Controversy! Oh, the times we had before I came along and killed the place! We'll reflect more in due time. Until then, still, it's open.
Sometime in the days to comeweeks to comemonths to come future there will be a retrospective or two, highlighting some of the better days of this abomination that has gone on for way too long. But that's a lot of work for a Guy Who Is Increasingly Tired These Days, especially when nooneisreadingthissoimprettymuchjusttypingtomyselfandmytoysandfigurineswhichmakesmefeellikeabitofaweirdobutmaybeitsyouallwhoaretheweirdosbecausemytoysandfigurinesarewayawesomerthananythingyoucouldevergiveme. EVER!!!
But yeah, that'll happen. Feel free to chat until. I don't have any A-list monotone sportscasters to offer, but I will answer any questions you may have about myself and my budding career. No topic is off limits as long as this thing is still breathing (with assistance). It's open.