Shlep D-O Double Gizzle's Web Pizzle

Here is a man who stood up

"My friend drove off the other day,
And now he's gone and all they say,
Is you gotta live cuz life goes on...

But now I see I'm mortal, too,
I can't live my life like you,
Gotta live it up, while life goes on.

And I think that it's all right,
That I do what I like,
Cuz that's the way I wanna live.
And so I give, and I'm still givin'...

And now I wonder 'bout my friend,
If he gave all he could give,
Cuz he lived his life like I live mine.

...And I think that it's all right,
That I do what I like,
Cuz that's the way I wanna live.
And so I give, and I'm still givin'...

...Gotta make a plan,
Gotta do what's right,
Can't run around in circles,
If you wanna build a life,
But I don't wanna make a plan,
For a day far away,
While I'm young and while I'm able,
All I wanna do is..."
----Green Day, "JAR"

***

"If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames,
but have not love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not boast,
it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self seeking,
its is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

It always protects, always trusts,
always hopes, always perseveres."
---Corinthians 12:12

***

"If heaven exists, what do you think God would say to you?"

"If heaven exists, He's got alot of explaining to do."
---Robert De Niro on Inside the Actor's Studio

***

"And suddenly the sound of his pet name, uttered by his father as he has been accustomed to hearing it all his life, means something completely new, bound up with a catastrophe he unwittingly embodied for years. "Is that what you think of when you think of me?" Gogol asks him. "Do I remind you of that night?"

"Not at all," his father says eventually, one hand going to his ribs, a habitual gesture that has baffled Gogol until now. "You remind me of everything that followed."
---Jhumpa Lahiri, "The Namesake"

Naan sequitur

Belated RIP's to John Ritter ("Come on knock on my doooor, I'll be waiting for youuu") and the Original Gangsta, the Slim Shady of the Sixties, Johnny Cash.

*******

I had the good fortune to be pointed in the direction of this article about Dashboard Confessional. It's a very interesting read, but I would like to call attention to a particular paragraph.

"Still, something's happening, even if no one can decide what to call it. Interscope Records recently purchased a share in Vagrant, and Jimmy Iovine, co-chairman of Interscope, compares Carrabba to another Interscope star who's good with words, Eminem. He says this isn't merely another punk revival: It's a 'songwriting revival.'"

Chris Carrabba compared to Eminem? Shouldn't Shlep be unequivocally outraged that someone could even come close to equating Dashboard Confessional with the greatest lyricist of our time?

Yes and no. First of all, the opinions of Jimmy Iovine should always be respected. As head of Interscope Records, he has nurtured and promoted the very best of modern music for almost 15 years. (Check out Interscope's roster , which includes Geffen and A&M artists as well as many artist-run labels such as Timbaland's Beat Club and Em's Shady Records). Basically, whether its rock, hip-hop, gospel, r&b or whatever, the man knows his shit. Secondly, the article was written by Kelefa Sanneh, the same writer who wrote the Genius of Eminem Rolling Stone cover story a couple of months ago. So clearly this is an informed, intelligent comparison, not just some half-cocked soapbox pronouncement.

I think what Iovine and Sanneh want to impart is that Carrabba and Eminem are comparable in the way they connect to the audience. Both are brutally honest, writing songs that have a rawness and a very tangible sense of urgency. As a listener, I know immediately this is how Carrabba and Em feel, and most importantly, it reflects exactly how I feel.

I'll come out of the closet on this one. I think Carrabba writes good songs. I have to respect someone who so brazenly bares his soul to the world. He doesn't just wear his heart on his sleeve, he rips it out in front of everyone and stitches it onto his sleeve, slowly and painfully. Carrabba has a unique ability to capture not just specific emotions but the moment and the atmosphere surrounding those feelings. He sings like the world could end in the next second and if you don't listen to what he has to say right now his world just might. Sure it's whiny as hell, sure I can only take about three or four songs in a row, sure its embarrassing to admit he can make anybody's inner-16-year-old girl swoon, but I must give props where props are due. Don't hate the playa, hate the game.

HOWEVER, I believe the comparison ends there. In my mind, Eminem is still the superior artist, and here's why. First of all, in terms of techinical skill, Eminem is much more distinguished. He is widely recognized as one of the greatest lyricists and rhyme-slingers to ever grab a mic. Not only does he put his words together in unexpected and interesting ways, he masks the complexity of his rhyme schemes with amazing skill, switching patterns mid-verse. Toure of Rolling Stone wrote in 2000, "he hits you with the lyrical complexity and detailed narratives of Biggie, the hilarious, is-he-kidding-or-not button-pushing of Howard Stern, the disaffected angry-white-boy-ness of Fight Club and the fearless, kill-me-if-you-can energy of Tupac. He rarely uses the same rhyme pattern twice, and he changes his vocal style again and again...often in the space of one verse." Neither Carrabba's voice nor his guitar playing is exceptional in any way. Yes, techincal skill shouldn't be the only criteria when judging art, but I think an artists' dedication to the tools of his craft can be objectively measured, and it's a legitimate point of discussion when making comparisons.

Secondly, Eminem is not as one-dimensional as Dashboard. Yeah okay Chris, we get it, you were in love, now you're not, and it sucks. For Carrabba there seems to be no middle ground between the highest highs of that first kiss and the lowest lows of when she breaks your heart. The maudlin sentimentality of his singing can be bracing and sincere ("I believe in you so much/I could die for the words that you say"), but after awhile you just want to smack him and tell him to get his corny ass over it. There seems to be nothing else going in on the world worth talking about. I suppose this perfectly captures what it's like being a teenager, but great artists should go beyond adolescence to convey a range of emotions in interesting and creative ways.

Eminem's overriding emotion is without question his rage. But he has always mixed his anger with humor, jabs at society and culture, questions about his place in it, and a disarming self-awareness bordering on obsessive introspection. At the same time, Em can be just as raw and emotional as Carrabba, as in "Cleaning out my Closet", "Kim" and "Hallie's' Song". The main difference is that Eminem's macabre imagination provides dark twists to his emotional expression. This is probably a personal preference, but the existence of a darkside, an ambiguity about how the person really feels and how I'm supposed to react to it, seems more creative to me, and is much more interesting. Martin Scorsese once wrote that the best film heroes, the most memorable leading men, all had a certain darkness. When he directs an actor, he wants to see "moral warfare in his eyes". I don't just want to know how sad Chris Carrabba is, or how in love he was, I want to know how those feelings and experiences affect him in the rest of his life. How it changes the way he looks at the rest of the world. Carrabba is very good at what he does, but what he does just doesn't seem complete.

******

So what's the conclusion? Should they be compared? Sure, it's always fun to bring up crazy discussions like this one. Is one better than the other? I think so, but I'm not one to judge. Actually that's not true, I judge all the time, but I'm definitely not one to tell others how to judge. Whatever floats your boat.
Holla.

props to jeff for finding the picture of johnny cash

Good Luck with Allll That

It's not just that we had so many inside jokes and references that only we had any hope of understanding, it's that we had our own fucking language. On more than one occasion, late at night, we filled either Junior or Aaliyah with some of Alex's finest, and whichever guest of the week was over partaking with us (because Keyur was always so inclusive), would try to have a conversation. Unfortunately, in that state of mind, at that time of night, Keyur and I would just slip into secret code mode and just talk to each other, about anything and everything, completely oblivious to anyone else in the room, who had no idea what we were talking about anyway. The first time my brother and Sabrina came over, one of the first things they said to me was, "You guys talk exactly the same". You're goddamn right we did.

(I wonder if heaven has broadband? If not, they do now)

Despite his inhabiting the role that we all put on him as the buffoon. Despite the everyday verbal slips and phyiscal clutziness, he was a genius. I know his conversational language mistakes made for much hilarity, but also I know he beat me at Scrabble, twice. And I don't know shit about programming but I know he got job offers from Microsoft, Apple and JPL. And I know he turned them all down to stay close to his parents.

I tended to underestimate how fiercely he cared about me. About everyone really. The joy of others was his joy. Their pain was his. I liked that we were opposites in all the right ways. Our minds just sort of fit together. The only thing we didn't see eye to eye on was the appropriate level of pulp in the orange juice. I'm glad I took the chance to room with him when everyone else seemed to be a little wary of him. I think it took them longer to see how consciously he tried to better himself, how hard he worked to change the things people found annoying, over zealous and intrusive about him. I really hated when, in a group of people, Keyur would talk or laugh really loudly and everyone would look at him as if he had just committed some heinous crime. I'd quitely seethe at the looks and the eye-rolls that he would get if he was ever just a little louder than everyone else. So what if he laughs loudly you sanctimonious fuck. Who the fuck are you? Just because he laughs loudly you hold him in some sort of social contempt? You have no fucking idea about the greatness of that laugh. Because his laugh was something else, something unique, like he was unafraid to show the world his happiness. Like he was expressing the joy for everyone who was afraid to at that moment. Damn right it was loud. His laugh could make an average joke into an uplifting experience. It could fill an entire room with its brightness. It could shatter windows and break down doors. It could force its way into the coldest of places and fill it with warmth. I wish I could hear that laugh again, that laugh that could tear through the sky with its power, parting the clouds and ripping the blueness apart. I wish I could reach up through that hole in the sky, past this fucking world. Past all the bullshit. Past all the little stresses of everyday life, past all the gas prices and credit card payments. Past all the gossip and pretention. Past all the traffic jams and football scores. I wish I could reach up past all of that, and, even if just for a second...I wish I could bring my friend back.