Searching for a code

Boats*Cars*Dollars*Girls*Helicopters*Jewellery*Skylines from Thomas Traum on Vimeo.

Thomas Traum searches for the definitive genre of hip hop music video.

Not Enough Time on Our Hands

Thinking about what Lil' Wayne might be doing right about now.

This Age of Information Has Hurt The (Human) Race

these guyz r getting better

Das Racist- Speaking in Tongues

A New World Border

I don't have much to say about this right now. It needs to play out over time, and I'm not trying to jump too many guns. Suffice to say, in light of the idiocy playing out in the Arizona state legislature, the Phoenix Suns basketball franchise has gone and done something rare. Tonight, they're wearing their Los Suns jerseys to "support the Hispanic community," and implicitly protest the new law. This is a big deal, not just because it's an example of athletes using their access to publicity to make a political statement, but also because sports are supposedly the the beating heart of mainstream, conservative America. I hope that this act of protest forces the guy watching TV with the shotgun in his lap to reconsider.

Also, maybe this is can be an impetus for us "intellectual fans" to start reconfiguring the idea of sports as merely the docile product of capitalism and traditional ideologies of gender, race, class, etc...

GO SUNS!

Sorry to open this can of worms again, but...

Beyonce Page is back. Rage on, debate, rage on.


"Why Don't You Love Me" - Beyoncé from Beyoncé on Vimeo.

Whippin My Mama Volvo

We got two volvo wagons in our driveway, so I figured I'd throw this one up. The video is shot in Ballard - a pretty white, middle class neighborhood in Seattle that Grynch and myself live in. Dude is actually a pretty-well established rapper in the Seattle, especially for a dude who looks 14 years old. He's made a name for himself by completely embracing the fact that he's a really average white guy who raps and doesn't bullshit on his verses. Thankfully, Grynch lacks that malady that seems to plague a vast majority of underground rappers, causing them to rap about richer rappers, why hip hop is dead, and why they should get a record deal instead of actually fucking saying anything. Whether or not you like the song, think it's corny or funny or dope, (and I can't even make up my mind myself) take a minute to respect the fact that this man honestly earnestly loves his fucking Volvo. There's no irony involved in this shit. Whether you like or not, it's real, and that's why you have a lot of people in the Seattle hip-hop community who are from completely different (i.e. ethnically diverse, poor, South-end) backgrounds than Grynch showing him respect. Plus the video looks good for a low-budget affair.

Along Came A Spider

Director/actor/stuntman Nash Edgerton's new movie The Square is getting love from the film blogs I've read. I haven't seen the thing so I can't endorse it but I DO endorse this short he made. It's only nine minutes of your time, so take a look:

The Next Masterpiece of American Culture

I wish I could put into words how fascinated/disgusted I am with this idea. Essentially, a normal dude diligently eats his way through the frozen food aisle, making sure he sticks to the highest possible standards of journalism. I bring you Freezer Burns

Lax On, Lax Off

Gentlemen, practice is tonight @ 8pm on the turf field.  Brose bowl is back.

Also, I would like to pay tribute to a fallen teammate, friend, and fellow alcoholic Justin "Bromaster". At rugby practice yesterday Justin broke his tibia, some other bone, and tore 3 ligaments in his ankle.  He is due to go into surgery around now, and we wish him a quick and complete recovery from this tragic laxident.  Obviously he won't be playing for the rest of the season.  Let's stay after it, so we may say that he did not lax in vain, but for a more noble cause, the defense of our 5th amendment right, "the right to remain violent" on the field and our 3rd amendment right, "the right to show arms" on the hill.

God Bless America and no place else.

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Gentlemen, one of the most difficult tasks facing a laxer is the choice of a Sunday morning spoon. Yes, on and off the field you are always expected to carry yourself with a certain swagger. Yes, even if you can't catch and pass you still might get some undeserved lax cred for selecting from a portfolio of neons.  But certain colors, like neon green mesh with purple shooting strings, might just be the feather that broke your hangover's back when you are reminded of all the green jello shots and purple haze you smoked last night.  In fact, I dare say I recommend the old school approach to the Sunday morning spoon... possibly a full wood stick with a traditional pocket.  Who are you kidding, you probably won't be able to catch and pass in between spews,  so you might as well fuck up someone else's day with 10 pounds of American history.

Anyways, Freeman Center at noon.  Bring your jersey if you walked off with it after the game.

Love,

Gary

Dream come true

US officials are investigating after a child was apparently allowed to direct planes at New York's JFK airport.

An air traffic controller thought it would be funny to let his kid come to work and play around at one of the busiest airports in the country. They figured this out after listening to a tape of the child giving directions to pilots. Some excerpts follow. 

In an exchange, the child says: "MS 4-0-3, contact departure," and then adds: "Adios, amigo." The pilot responds: "Adios, amigo." [!!!]

His father is later heard saying with a laugh: "That's what you get, guys, when the kids are out of school."

In one exchange, the boy is heard saying: "JetBlue 171 contact departure." The pilot responds: "Over to departure JetBlue 171, awesome job."

Now, this sounds like the coolest thing for any little kid. Actually getting to do this is one thing, but then to be told that you're doing "an awesome job" from a real pilot is totally insanely sweet. But when an adult does the same job, they get little in the way of congratulations. This brings us to a larger issue, which is the fact that all of these pilots on the tape appear to be completely fine with a child giving them directions. They encourage him. This is completely awesome on their parts, and it keeps me thinking that all pilots are inherently badass and cool as cucumbers. And this is at what you might think is a stressful place for a plane to extricate itself from. Whenever I go there I'm stressed out so why aren't these pilots? Do we really need to be so controlled and felt up and patted down and tensed up? The pilots seem totally fine, even when a child comes on the line. They're just chilling. But that's a whole different issue than what I'm trying to raise here. Air traffic controllers are a valuable position, but who really wants to be them? Kids. 

Perhaps you've read Ender's Game, dear reader. Now, imagine a world in which children were not maligned and prevented from fulfilling the jobs they wanted merely because of their small stature, tinkling voices and small vocabularies. Wouldn't it be so rad if the little persons were allowed at least, like, ONE thing they really wanted to do? Perhaps children really could do an awesome job at being air traffic controllers. I for one hope that this starts a long line of professional jobs held by minors. 

Source

Picture Show

Shameless self-promotion. Nothing at all like my thesis, but I did make this movie last year. If you haven't seen it yet, go head:


One Two Three from Sam Jones on Vimeo.

Still Wuthering Heights, Still Not Brontë

The White Dress version. Sometimes lighting strikes twice.

I'm Not Showing Off...

I'm playing basketball!



This scene defined my childhood.