Archive for September 2007
With a halfhearted apology to the post VMA Britney-bashers out there….
By the time I die I will have spent years on the Internet. Not only do I pay my rent online, check my email 10 times a day, read the news, and look up restaurant reviews before heading to dinner, but as a college student, I am not ashamed to admit that I spend a fair amount of time on Facebook.
Sure, it's the poppiest song in the Gomez arsenal, and it probably doesn't represent the full breadth of their capabilities. But quit criticizing and just listen. It's good advice. See the world! Day to day where do you want to be?
While driving into work this morning, I heard a local radio station playing a clip from a comedian who was making light of 9/11. What is the appropriate amount of time that must pass before it is acceptable for the larger society to transition from mourning to remembering to, dare I say, mocking?
Pull up a chair, make sure there are no unsavory substances visible on the cushion, and join us for today’s presentation of “The Hobo Code.”
In this age of celebrity endorsements and entertainer-based empires, we delve into the disappointment and bad business that is Britney Spears.
I knew a guy who was worried about his teenage son. He was a good kid, but he was struggling and he had just called to tell his father he was going to drop out of college. Years ago, the father fretted, he’d have shipped the kid off to the military – forced some discipline on him to help him grow up. That had worked for his generation. But the inflammatory world situation no longer made that a viable option in his (or his wife’s!) mind. He was at his wits’ end. So what did he do?
In his typical light-hearted way, Coldplay's Chris Martin gives a bunch of good advice to start this video, but perhaps the best is within Amsterdam.
Farm Aid, the 22-year-old "homegrown" rock/country music festival designed to raise money for working class farmers, recently announced the location of this year’s event. After hearing their decision, my first reaction was much like the perturbed cowboys in the Pace Picante salsa commercials: “NEW YORK CITY?!”