The Sin Curve - October 24, 2006

THE SIN CURVE
Sex & geometry. This one's for the children.

Files are here.

1. The Outcasts - "Justa Nother Teenage Rebel" (Self Conscious Over You)

2. The Beach Boys - "When I Grow Up (To Be a Man)" (Today!)

3. The Swingin' Medallions - "Double Shot (Of My Baby's Love)" (Nuggets)

4. The Talking Heads - "The Girls Want to Be With the Girls" (More Songs About Buildings and Food)

5. The Fiery Furnaces - "Benton Harbor Blues" (Bitter Tea)
This is my favorite song on this mix. For now.

6. Stereolab - "Jump Drive Shut Out"
This is the first new Stereolab song I've listened to in a few years. It surprised me; it's good.

7. Charlotte Gainsbourg - "The Operation" (The Songs That We Sing)
I don't care who you are - hearing Ms. Gainsbourg sing "I want to examine every inch of your frame" simply gets the job done.

8. Holy Shit - "Written All Over Your Face" (Stranded at Two Harbors)
When I first saw this band's name, I thought of the "Shitty Beatles" of Wayne's World fame.

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We Who Do Not Wink

My name is Andy D, and I am a white rapper. I have written pop songs about love, sex, partying, sex with werewolves, and female ejaculation. I have had a moustache for three years, a rattail for two years, and wear almost exclusively pink shirts emblazoned with air-brushed pictures of kittens and unicorns. I am absurd, and I know it. I am absurd on purpose. What I am not doing is being ironic.

Let me explain. I have been called ironic many times. And at every instance of being called the I-word, I have responded violently - either smacking the offending prig with an open-handed slap or with a tongue-lashing along the lines of “your face is ironic!” or “shut the goddamn up!”

That said, this past spring, while drinking with some of my friends, the subject of my style came up, and one of my fellows did the unthinkable – called me ironic. Actually he said that the entire Andy D persona is predicated upon being ironical. Rather than clenching my hand into a furious fist of rage, I calmed my sweaty palms in a moment of inebriated curiosity and decided to explore my aversion to the concept of being… gulp… ironic.

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Golden Hour - September 5, 2006


Suck it up: Summer's gone.
But we were there for you, first with a mix to ease you into Summer, and now with this one to help ease you out of it. Starting with the anthem to late Summer and ending with a song for those frosty Fall nights (or shootouts in Miami). Named after the hour of dusk where the setting sun casts everything in a heroic light, where the humidity creaks, then crumbles as the frigid air settles over, and with cuts coming from such disparate places as the streets of Harlem, the shores of Sweden, and the fiery-hot loins of Alan Thicke, it has everything one could ask for.

So grab a seat on your roof, stoop, or balcony, pour yourself a tall stiff glass of amber spirits, turn on this mix, and watch the sky set fire and burn out.

Hit me with that DOWNLOAD

Bring that TRACKLIST back

Bittersweet Longings/Nostalgia

Here at Cosmodrome, we're getting pretty sick. We've come down recently with a case of wistful longing for the golden, halcyon days of old. For the days when nostalgia was considered a medical disorder to be cured by bedrest, discharge from the army, or, hopefully, leeches.

First stop on our trip down memory lane is the olden days of Life Magazine. Now, Life is still around but it just doesn't carry the same cultural heft it used to when it was filled with hard hitting stories and arresting images. It even had amazing ads that would never be seen today, including this one from the back cover of the first issue. Who wouldn't want to smoke Santa's brand?

And speaking of smoking, where have the days gone where smoking was acceptable? When you could smoke inside and cartoons would shill for cigarette companies. Now they want to edit out our memories to be smoke-free. They've already changed some of our memoires and we just can't let them continue.

But there are still things from our childhood that remain untouched by age, like silly putty or play-doh, which has been canonized in the best way possible. Despite being some sort of strange polymers without a shape or specific purpose that was marketed to kids, they did amazingly well and remained popular for decades. Nickelodeon went on to revitalize that niche market with their own ilk of goops and oozes, originating from the days when sayng "I Don't Know" on You Can't Do That On Television would get you a face full of it. Oh, Alanis.

All this talk of the good ol' days have made us faint. We may have to check ourselves into hospice care for this incurable disease. The only solace we have is the possibility of getting a sponge bath from an sexy, old-fashioned, smoking nurse.

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Bloggish: Nonsensical Ramblings of an Incoherent Man

Before I get to the video below, see this. Trust me, it's worth it.

At a recent press conference at Camp David, President Bush discussed a recent federal court decision declaring the NSA's wiretapping program unconstitutional. If you needed further proof that the man has not quit drinking, here it is (stay for the end and Bush's hand-to-the-head-like-a-gun moment as he walks away*):

This comment from Wonkette summed it up much better than I ever could:

Here's a translation of what he actually meant:

"I did not read this. I am not going to read this. I am not going to have anybody read this to me. I forbid my staff and the entire Executive Branch to read this. You can tell by their responses that Attorney General Gonzales and spokesman Tony Snow have already not read it, and I affirm that all of us in this Administration will continue to not read it. This decision does not exist. It is a figment of the imagination of the self-loathing wimp-dog Godless atheist agnostic Muslim terrorist-supporting hippie Commie dope-fiend pinko bedwetter black-loving Al Qaeda liberal business-trashing traitor anti-American socialist pro-abortion gay homosexual Lesbyterian coward media that hates our soldiers. Laura, put the goddam thing down and don't try to explain anything."

*Upon repeat viewing, it was discovered that this was a salute. Close though.

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Bloggish: ...but Jimmy Carter is Smarter

As you may have recently heard, President Bush chose l'Etranger as part of his summer reading and discussed the novel with talk show host his Press Secretary, Tony Snow.

Here's a portion of the transcript of the dinner conversation:

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With No Deformities That I Could See

America is full of fatties.

We're willing to admit it. We're willing to admit that up to 30.5% of Americans are obese. We're just not willing to admit we are fat, just everyone else. We like placing the blame on things other than us: other fat people, the French, Jews. And now the obese have a new weapon in their arsenal: microbes. It seems that there is a new field of science, deemed "infectobesity", which sets out to prove that obesity could be the result of other causes not linked to diet, exercise, or genetics. This could potentially be a groundbreaking and affective way to approach obesity and cure it. It could hep save the lives of millions of people who have drastic health risks due to their body's bulbous state. However, I worry that as infectobesity becomes more widely known, some people will latch onto it as the cause of their problems, an inevitablility beyond their control, and they will not take the proper steps toward changing their diets and their excercise routines to make themselves healthier.

However, it is obvious that microbes are not the only reason, as it seems even babies these days are in fact getting fatter. Perhaps this is why Tom Cruise and and Katie Holmes kept their daughter Suri locked away for so long-- she had to shape up and drop a few pounds. Recently, though, Suri made her first public appearance at a party thrown by Will 'Who's the Best?' Smith. One party guest described the bundle of joy thusly:
"Suri is a beautiful baby with no deformities that I could see."

Well played.

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Bloggish - Lohan on Paris: "I bet she's comfortable making videos."

Following a profanity-laced tirade (YouTube below) in which Paris' buddy, apparent no-talent ass-clown Michael Davis, goes off on Lohan's very existence, Ms. Lohan has struck back. Commenting on Paris' giggling while walking along and seeming to enjoy the fun at her expense, Lindsay SLAMMED* Paris:

"I bet she's comfortable making videos." (!!!)

Lindsay also noted that Paris and Davis left her crazy voicemails, were upset about Stavros... and yada, yada, yada. I'm already sick of this story. Let's move on.

Oh wait, the video, which concludes with this zinger that will stay in your head for days:

"Lindsay Lohan is a fire-crotch and she has freckles coming out of her pussy and her clit is seven feet long."

*On the use of SLAMMED in IMDB.com news: note how this story uses IMDB's rarely-seen thesaurus, incorporating the words "rubbished," "attacked," and "blasted".

OK, I'm stopping for real. You just got stupider while reading this entry. More of the same to come later.

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Bloggish: Its Hard Out There for a Discoball

The discoball was the champion of the 70s, but like most things/people who enjoyed their heyday 30 years ago, they've fallen on hardtimes.

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Scary French Robot Army

Here at Cosmodrome, we're pretty terrified by a few things that would make us shit in our pants if they showed up at our front door, ie black holes, organized religion, and some conglomeration of Karl Rove, Barry Bonds' swollen 'roid-head, and Jerry Bruckheimer (summer 2007 blockbuster?). But one Fear may have just creeped up on us without anyone being the wiser.

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