Take note of the scotch tape in the upper left, which rendered the cassette “dub-able”.  The next consideration is the EP’s duration – 13 minutes, 54 seconds.  Which rendered this marketing stunt virtually “inevit-able”, considering manufacturing plants generally don’t make cassettes with sides shorter than 10 minutes because of breakage concern.

Stunt, by the way, is a compliment.  The thing I love about this picture / concept / stunt is how utterly harmless it is.  As if music fans would accelerate their industry-killing ways, given access to comparatively expensive, hard-to-label, one-sided 14 minute blank tapes.  That’s the genius of it – the Dead Kennedys were commenting on something that was plainly obvious, and yet stubbornly rejected by entrenched powers (see also: the folly of religious dogma).

Hopefully, Kill Screen can get stunts of this caliber.  And while we’re on the subject of stunts:

“Lemonade was a popular drink
and it still is -
I get more props and stunts
than Bruce Willis.”

One of my favorite rap lyrics of all time.  Speedy recovery to Guru.

Screen shot number two:

Yes, the 17 yellow labs (aka vodka, soda, splash of grapefruit) were a contributing factor.  Yes, the teck shots that Laura kept fucking ordering were a contributing factor.  But I think the real culprit was the family-sized bag of Combos I Hoovered during my blackout walk home.

I woke up this morning with more questions than answers.  First, the answers.  The soonest I would consider eating non-Nacho Cheese Combos again would be in April of 2010.  I would consider eating non-Nacho Cheese Combos again in March of 2010, but only if they came out with Pork Bun flavored Combos (I really think that “Pork Bun” would translate well).  With the proper support, I hope to never eat Nacho Cheese Combos again.

Second, the questions.  Why are there “about” 7 Servings Per Container?  Combos, in particular, are very count-able.  According to a Yahoo Finance post from three years ago (yeah, that’s just lazy on my part), Mars, Incorporated is the largest, privately-held company in the U.S.  Don’t they count the Combos as they drop into the bag in the factory in Hackettstown, New Jersey?  And isn’t that number divisible?  Most numbers are.  We know that there are 4.5 grams of Total Fat Per Serving.  They’re willing to go out a decimal place on Total Fat, but unwilling on Servings Per Container?  So, mathematically, Combos posits that there is an unquantifiable amount of Total Fat in the Container (4.5 X ~7 = ?).  Fuck you, Combos.  Seriously, fuck you.

Needless to say, it was a rough morning.  So, too, a rough early afternoon.  This TZM (Terrifying Zeitgeist Moment) at 1:31PM today did not help.

More questions.  Why did it take so long for some stupid idiot to come up with this totally idiotic idea?  How funny must the marketing team conversation have been in the conference room?  ["Let's accentuate the I because Americans have an individualistic spirit ..."]  Will they re-do all the delivery trucks in November 2010?  Will anybody … seriously a-n-y-b-o-d-y … walk into a bar between now and November 2010 and be, like, “yeah, bartender I would love an AmerIcana and tonic right about now”?

As an aside, the massive, white-ish, non-accumulating particles of semi-frozen water in the photo are what we used to call “snow”.  Back when we got normal snow storms during normal winter seasons.

Today’s Other Music email informs me that a Fabric mixtape CD by Martyn is on offer for $17.99.  Tomorrow’s (not literally) Other Music email hopefully will inform / remind me that a Kill Screen mixtape CD by Marty Party is on offer for $[  ].00.  Initially, I thought $13 (see Steady Diet of Nothing post below).  Then, I thought $15 (basically the idea got $2 cooler in my head).  Now, I’m kinda thinking $20.  preMIum mixtapes.  Because Americans have an individualistic spirit.

P.S. I just clicked Edit to go back into this post to fix the formatting and I realized that I failed to ask questions regarding the other Combos picture.  Fill in the blank.  The [_______] Filled Snack of NASCAR.  The Grenade Filled (with thumbtacks) Snack of NASCAR?  The AmerIcana Filled Snack of NASCAR?  Like that gum with the liquid center.  Me likes 80 proof liquor.  Me likes pretzels.  The Not Filled Snack of NASCAR.  Seriously, I’m surprised they haven’t come out with Diet Combos yet.  Same product, just without filling.  I totally would get those.  Less guilt, groovier texture, milder hangover …

P.P.S.  Fuck it.  Apparently, I’m too stupid to get the “I woke up …” text below the two Combos pictures.  Again, fuck you, Combos.

I received this text regarding a party last Friday in Brooklyn.

I was really impressed with the “Adam,” introduction.  I know that a “personalized” salutation in bulk emails is common practice.  The email template will generate a recipient’s first name based upon “#{@user.screen_name}” or something similar.  I just hadn’t realized until 9:23pm on Friday that they were doing this now with bulk text messages.  Pretty cool.  Even though I don’t feel particular close to High Jack (I don’t believe that we’ve even met), I was / am impressed with his texting savvy.

As it turns out, I had planned on going to the party before receiving this fashion-forward text.  Took some photos (see below).  And, perhaps more importantly, recorded about five hours of pretty dope DJ sets.  More on that later.

Marty Party rocks the party.

Check out this guy’s awesome swagger …

The view of Chinatown from the Manhattan Bridge during my walk home.  Really beautiful morning.

Once this blog gets better (uhhh … soon), I’ll have fancy photo galleries and hopefully some streaming live DJ sets for all to enjoy.

I love this photograph of a human being breathing synthetically underwater, taken by (we can only assume) another human being breathing synthetically underwater (but in different fashion).  Carles cries himself to sleep wishing he could zeitgeist like that.

The claustrophobia of the darkening peripheral edges.  The rising bubbles, signifying the finite oxygen supply.  The getting-warmer sun burning the back of the oblivious, pleasure-seeking snorkeler.  The knowing, Self-Contained Underwater photographer documenting the occasion, while furthering his retreat from the convenience of a traditional lifestyle.

How many points do you have to accumulate on your credit card before you can get a free Caribbean sunburn?  How many blogs do you have to bookmark before you get Caisson’s disease?

Other aspects of the packaging I admire.  The groovy (I couldn’t think of a better adjective) track listing font.  The insert promo card offering “Audio Goodies”.  Which, importantly, are two MPP songs apparently recorded live in Los Angeles on September 18, 2007.  That’s impressive time-traveling, relative to the January 6, 2009, studio release date (digital version), for everybody keeping score at home.  Performing consensus 2009 album of the year material live two calendar years prior.  I’d be really impressed – and somebody please fact-check me here – if the purple-ish photo on the flip side of the promo card is a live shot of that same ’07 LA show.  I wouldn’t bet against it.

my scanner sucks

OK, so all of the above is my circuitous way of saying I dig the artwork associated with the album.

But here’s my beef.  I really can’t get down with the Arigato Pak.  The purple and green pattern certainly is distinctive.  But structurally, the origami-style packaging is annoying.  The insert flap slows me down and it encourages wear and tear.  I treat my CDs like fine china and I don’t even listen to this disc disproportionately more than other notable recent albums.  And yet it’s already pretty beaten up.  The lack of a proper spine with album information (and accompanying depth) makes it easier to misplace.  And, perhaps my biggest gripe, it doesn’t have a proper divet thingy to rest the disc upon.

This presents two issues.  Without the media tray, as they say in the trade, the CD becomes an insignificant document that goes in a folder.  I like it when my CDs levitate.  This seems a trivial point; perhaps it is.  After all, vinyl similarly gets slipped into a sleeve.  However, I have to say, design-wise – the media tray is one of the distinguishing features of the traditional compact disc jewel case.  Fewer finger-print smudges.  Quicker DJ in / out handling.  Greater actual CD visibility.

Why am I obsessing about this?  Because in order to charge people good money for mixtape CDs in 2010, premium packaging will be imperative.

Text message #1:

• Nirvana live at reading. Maybe greatest live official bootleg ever. Simple as that.

I haven’t seen it yet.  I need to do my homework.  That’s a bad job by me.  But, let’s not get carried away and forget about The Songs Remains the Same.

Text message #2:

• Original live all apologies pre in utero is an absolute steamroller

So dark.  During the pre-song stage banter, he references his wife and newborn child and then goes into a song about how he’s sorry he’s going to kill himself.  Fittingly, these YT links will probably soon be dead:

Text message #3:

• So pre encore kurdt clearly bumped coke. Cuz during dumb 1st encore he starts majorly grinding teath

Good call by 84.  Check the lower jaw twitch:

While watching the ads, the “desires” component manifested itself quickly and predictably.  Many of the ads appealed to people’s lust for sex and violence.  Duh.  That’s not unusual.  Though, the amplitude and frequency of the violence, in particular, I thought was heightened relative to previous years.  One child (Tebow) tackles his mother.  And then another child (Doritos’ kid) slaps his mom’s date.  But, again, the elevated violence was not a particularly surprising development.

What I found more interesting was the prevailing subtext of anxiety.  Specifically, many of the ads evoked a nebulous dread, presumably stemming from man’s seemingly futile defense against the march of technology.  There was an end-of-the-world science fiction movie vibe coursing through several of the ads.  Perhaps this dread factor may have been muted a bit if unemployment was at, say, 5% rather than 10%.  But I think the recession was only a contributing factor.  To me, the subtext of these ads spoke to something deeper than a market cycle – the sinking feeling that we’re quickly becoming obsolete.

Example #1.  Doritos’ Dog Collar.

Man over-breeds dogs to sell companionship.  But these companions bark too much.  So man invents a bark-equals-excruciating-shock collar to silence dogs.  A dog indicates that he is hungry and that he would like some Doritos.  The non-owner (he refers to the dog simply as “dog”) taunts the dog, saying the dog must speak to get Doritos.  Anonymous cruelty is always easier.  Having been temporarily denied his desired snack, the dog then puts the shocker / choker around the park bench guy’s neck, rendering him Dorito-less and in agony.  A prescient careful-what-you-wish-for allegory about technology.

Example #2.  Emerald Nuts’ Human Dolphins.

Bio-engineering gone wrong.  The “human dolphins” are responsive to the ring leader’s high-pitched “eee—eee” commands and they apparently have webbed feet, given their enhanced swimming ability.  Awesome plus awesome equals genetically modified human beings performing circus tricks for the entertainment of non-genetically modified human beings?

Example #3.  Intel’s Lunch Room.

Apparently, Intel has products that are more impressive than a sentient robot who can experience a full range of human emotions.  I was expecting Jeffrey (the robot’s name) to bust out some Rutger Hauer … “I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe.”

Needless to say, I find these sci-fi narratives fascinating.  Look for the man versus machine aesthetic to feature prominently in Kill Screen releases.  For instance, see below for an image of Smasherelly contending with his gear.

Perhaps a Nugget fan and a Laker fan?  Does Chauncey Billups deserve to be in the hall of fame?  According to Wikipedia, Angola is “nearly twice the size of the US state of Texas, or five times the area of the United Kingdom”.  But not both.

Disk Jockey Angola