kata rokkar...

Today, my buddy and I are going to be audience members of The Daily Show with Newsweek International Editor Fareed Zakaria and Mr. Awesome himself, Lewis Black. There’s really nothing else to report…

So take it easy and listen to some good music…

Nine Inch Nails – Echoplex

Sans Seraph – December

Passion Pit – Better Things

The internet has had it's fair share of 'caught-on-camera' phenomena; the Star Wars Kid is probably the most memorable. A high school kid who gets to live out his daily day-dream of being a Jedi by wielding a golf ball rod in front of a camcorder. I could give hundreds more examples but one recent one has caught my eye. It's the Man Stuck in an Elevator For 41 Hours video from the article on the New Yorker website. The original video itself is not anything surprising or horrifying. You are basically watching what would happen if anyone of us got stuck in an elevator for a long period of time. What really caught my attention was the parodies that followed. One in particular; The "41 Hours in an Elevator with Diarrhea" video (Above). The first time I watched the video, I was in tears with laughter for numerous reasons. It wasn't just that he was smearing his poo all over the elevator walls, it was his gradual fall into insanity and how the video made you sympathetic to his bizarre situation. After watching it a second time, I realized that this video isn't only hilarious, but interesting and kind of sad. I guess it was the fact that the "victim" was someone who seems somewhat 'average joe.' Maybe he's worked hard to get to the position at the GW Thurston Building or maybe he's someone who is interning there and on his 4th day, this happens. But the protagonist that we know as Jonathon White is put in an embarrassing situation that many would agree is the worst possible situation you could ever find yourself in. Diarrhea is horrible on it's own and so is getting stuck in an elevator, but both together adds a doomsday scenario that no one would wish upon anyone. Both unfortunate situations do not discriminate either; this could happen to anyone of us. That is why it is so easy to connect with the character. He's pushed to his limits, mentally and physically. So anyone watching the video is thinking, "I think I'd do the same thing..." The other emotional aspect of this video is the music, provided by Jennifer Haines. Jennifer Haines did the original New Yorker video, which was quite affective in making you feel sorry for the man stuck in the elevator. But the music in the parody video, which is the same piece, provides a sense of extreme desperation and batshit insanity. Even when you see Mr. White wipe his crap all over the walls and put on the same shirt he shat in, you pity him and at the same time, laugh hysterically at his misfortune. Maybe I'm looking too deeply into this...maybe it's just a low-brow video about a dude who gets stuck in an elevator with the Hershey-Squirts . But if you can; watch it again and then once more. Once you've done that, think to yourself; "When I'm at the end of my rope and vulnerable, what kind of craziness will I do when I get that point?" Well, lets hope it never comes to that. And if it does, hope no one is videotaping it.

Jennifer Haines - The Storm Begins from the album, Thoughts and Dreams: Solo Piano

Website

Ryan Pink writes like he's just come back from a near death experience. Many of these songs are filled with a quiet desperation over some introspective awakening about his mortality; and nonetheless they're comforting. His voice is somewhere between Leonard Cohen and Paul Simon on the emotional richter scale and it calms and soothes and sedates.
Mostly acoustic or piano, with wonderful harmonies and a perfect pace; Ryan's music is good to chill out to and reflect on the past, present and the unknowable future. If we all embraced that notion, we'd have little reason to disagree.
In addition to his heartfelt songwriting; Ryan Pink is a poet.

Fishhook

It was years ago.

I mean,
we were just
kids,
back then.
We were
just kids.

But Jesus!
There was a tartan sweater involved,
lipstick,
a half pint of rum
and a job at a gas station that
didn’t
quite
fit.

Life was in the works.

The letters were unexpected,
long and narrow and full of million dollar
community college words,
as if she had a mind she could recognize
but not quite grasp.

They came in the summertime,
rode in like paper airplanes;
maybe two, maybe three,
before I had a chance
to respond.

She said she liked the way I had looked,
in that tartan sweater,
all foggy and lost,
not quite an impression.

She said she thought of California sometimes,
or New York,
and she claimed she’d be able
to love all the men in her life,
if she only had the secret, if she could only learn
to keep a thing beautiful
after it dried.

I wrote back that the dust
was bad where I lived. The city sagged
like dead wheat and the
people… the people all crouched along
the sidewalk,
their eyes focused and firm,
steady on the ground.

I told her about Kenny
and what had happened in the war. She wrote back
that the man I described
seemed like a stranger. She wanted to know
why I was there. What good was that city?
How come I didn’t have a woman
and what did I do with those years
anyway?

I stopped writing her
sometime after I met her. I owned
two tartan sweaters,
both different from the other,
and I wore the one
that I never
really
liked.

She said it was just like the sweater
I was wearing
when she...
 
- Ryan Pink

Ryan Pink myspace music page
Ryan Pink Last.fm music page

Ryan Pink - Miller Was A Liar