Props to The Chad for putting me on to this video. I feel like I can relate to this young fella because I'm also a dork who still holds court. Well, that and I'm king of the blumpkins. Nooch.
Razor Ramon flow oh so sharp
You can take Kapowski, I'ma take Lark on my go-kart.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Monday, March 30, 2009
No Texas festival for Phish, says Fagot farmer
Watch as a local news anchor introduces this story, describing how a video on Phish's official site went viral and created rumors of a late summer festival on a Georgetown, Texas farm. Then watch as the ensuing story, starring an unfortunately named farmer with a sweet mullet who confirms that there is no chance of Phish holding a summer-ending festival on his property, seems itself to have been scripted for viral glory. Small-town irony, gotta love it.
Fans tracked down the Fagot farm from his promotional video posted on the band’s web site.
Fans tracked down the Fagot farm from his promotional video posted on the band’s web site.
Friday, March 27, 2009
This types of Schiff Happens...not to suck
All kinds of stupid shit sucks, but here is some of the stuff that positively did not suck this week. If you're not on the list, try to do better on Monday.
[You're fuckin out!] Eastbound and Down ended its first season, which was the farthest thing from suck on TV in a long time. The show needs a second season to fully run its course, so here's to the glorious return of Kenny Powers (that week, whenever it happens, will also not suck). Something that kind of sucked was the end of Flight of the Conchords for what, in my opinion, will be forever (until they make a movie, which will definitely not suck). I'm glad I was on board for the entire run of this show, and will miss them when they're farming in England or whatever.
[They Took 'er Jobs!] This week's South Park was, I thought, the best it has been in a while. It certainly did not suck. I blogged about it a little for Pink Slipped, and I'm too lazy to get into many details right now. All I'll say is South Park solved the economy--it still doesn't make any sense. That and, "They took our jobs!" This was my favorite scene.
[Teaching Shaq To Twitter] I can only assume I'm not the only one of Shaq's 430,000something followers who crossed over to the Twitterverse to learn from its most Shaqtastic big man. Naturally I have incredible respect for Kathleen Hessert, founder and president of Sports Media Challenge, but most importantly "The woman who taught Shaq how to Tweet." From the bottom of my heart, Kathleen Hessert, thank you. Without you, there would be no games of twag, insomniac bathroom breaks, or gems like this from the Big Aristotle. Our lives are forever richer for it.
[It's Funny Because It's Twue] Speaking of twitter, this cartoon also helped fill our week with something other than suck. That fail whale is one scary fish. Mammal, whatever.
(It's actually so on point that it hurts a little bit if you twitter. Which...some of us do...)
[Fists Full of Childhood Awesome] The only thing that sucks about this item is that I'm the last person to post it. But let's not have such a sucky attitude about it. You've already seen the Where The Wild Things Are trailer, but you haven't seen it here yet, and you know you're going to watch it every time you see it somewhere for the first time because this trailer is effing beyond. It's just beyond. Maybe the best children's story ever, directed by Spike Jonze, beautiful footage edited seamlessly to Arcade Fire's "Wake Up." For real for real--can I coin #WTWTAFTW ??
I'll tell you this much right now: Schiff Happens birthday party = Where The Wild Things Are.
(I'll be psyched for this at 26, which speaks to what a masterpiece Maurice Sendak's book is. But imagine if I were turning plain old 6 in October. BEST birthday party EVERRR!)
[Winner] Flying sucks. Flying with this guy doing the safety announcement sucks a whole lot less. Well done, sir.
And this has been stuff that didn't suck this week. You know what's not making next week's cut? This post. Schiff, out.
[You're fuckin out!] Eastbound and Down ended its first season, which was the farthest thing from suck on TV in a long time. The show needs a second season to fully run its course, so here's to the glorious return of Kenny Powers (that week, whenever it happens, will also not suck). Something that kind of sucked was the end of Flight of the Conchords for what, in my opinion, will be forever (until they make a movie, which will definitely not suck). I'm glad I was on board for the entire run of this show, and will miss them when they're farming in England or whatever.
[They Took 'er Jobs!] This week's South Park was, I thought, the best it has been in a while. It certainly did not suck. I blogged about it a little for Pink Slipped, and I'm too lazy to get into many details right now. All I'll say is South Park solved the economy--it still doesn't make any sense. That and, "They took our jobs!" This was my favorite scene.
[Teaching Shaq To Twitter] I can only assume I'm not the only one of Shaq's 430,000something followers who crossed over to the Twitterverse to learn from its most Shaqtastic big man. Naturally I have incredible respect for Kathleen Hessert, founder and president of Sports Media Challenge, but most importantly "The woman who taught Shaq how to Tweet." From the bottom of my heart, Kathleen Hessert, thank you. Without you, there would be no games of twag, insomniac bathroom breaks, or gems like this from the Big Aristotle. Our lives are forever richer for it.
[It's Funny Because It's Twue] Speaking of twitter, this cartoon also helped fill our week with something other than suck. That fail whale is one scary fish. Mammal, whatever.
(It's actually so on point that it hurts a little bit if you twitter. Which...some of us do...)
[Fists Full of Childhood Awesome] The only thing that sucks about this item is that I'm the last person to post it. But let's not have such a sucky attitude about it. You've already seen the Where The Wild Things Are trailer, but you haven't seen it here yet, and you know you're going to watch it every time you see it somewhere for the first time because this trailer is effing beyond. It's just beyond. Maybe the best children's story ever, directed by Spike Jonze, beautiful footage edited seamlessly to Arcade Fire's "Wake Up." For real for real--can I coin #WTWTAFTW ??
I'll tell you this much right now: Schiff Happens birthday party = Where The Wild Things Are.
(I'll be psyched for this at 26, which speaks to what a masterpiece Maurice Sendak's book is. But imagine if I were turning plain old 6 in October. BEST birthday party EVERRR!)
[Winner] Flying sucks. Flying with this guy doing the safety announcement sucks a whole lot less. Well done, sir.
And this has been stuff that didn't suck this week. You know what's not making next week's cut? This post. Schiff, out.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Bonnaroo comedians and artist additions [For me to poop on!]
If you haven't visited this spot in a minute -- and judging by the attendance, you haven't! -- you may not know that I have been whining for several days now that Bonnaroo needs to announce their comedy lineup, and specifically that Flight of the Conchords should be amongst said lineup. I could have saved myself the trouble by simply checking the Bonnaroo site and seeing that they were there in 2007, and even as I was whining I knew an email/announcement would come today, but I got indignant about it anyway and so I felt extra psyched when I saw this update on the Bonnaroo site earlier:
That was a long time ago, though. Bonnaroo has done such an excellent job incorporating comedy into the festival scape, that the comedy card is now almost as much anticipated as the music lineup. And despite my impatience and aforementioned whining, this year's comedy slate (air-conditioned comedy slate!) is as good as any, in my opinion, for both its quirky variety and star power.
So I didn't exactly get my wish of Flight of the Conchords, but I got the Third Conchord (Todd Barry), Dave (Arj Barker) and the Fan base (Kristen Schaal). For reals, Mel! Sweet, psychotic Mel! I love the Evening (or Afternoon) with the Daily show and the late night war at the top of the bill between Jimmy Fallon and longtime Conan favorite Triumph the Insult Dog. You may not like him on Late Night, but the Bonnaroo stage is one that Fallon should be able to own. Will ?uestlove and the Roots crew appear to help him slow jam the news? Smellson, any rumors? And what about Triumph? BonnaPOO--genius! Who saw that coming? The abundance of Springsteen's New Jersey fans should give Triumph a chance to revisit one of his funnier moments of all time, embedded for your delight below as a reminder that we stand a mere 77 days from Bonnaroo.
Thanks to Wednesday's artist additions, the list of words and phrases I will spend all of Bonnaroo weekend screaming has grown from "BRUUUUCE," "BEEEee-eaAAT....DROP!" and "CACTUS!!" to now include "FOR ME TO POOP ON!" and... ::sits down, takes deep breath::
FLAVA FLAAAAAAVVV!
Public Enemy, bitches! This year's 'Roo lineup already had me all in, but the chance to see your boy Flav live and in person is one of those artist additions that just puts a festival over the top. Winner.
Though there are other artists among the additions that make Bonnaroo extra awesome, Public Enemy is the biggest deal to me personally. I cannot wait to witness Chuck D's powerful flow and Flava Flav's batshit crazy, creeper status antics live on stage. I really can't think of a better venue for a Public Enemy set than a 90,000 person festival.
If I wasn't hyped enough for Bonnaroo, they go and bring out the greatest hype man there ever was. Now if we could only find Elliott a slot on one of the small stages and reunite these two great showmen...
I think I just blew my own mind.
We are proud to announce several additional artists for the 2009 event, rounding out an already stellar lineup. Festival producers, Superfly Presents and A.C. Entertainment are also proud to announce another incredible lineup of today's top comedians!I'll get to music in a minute, but I have to say a little something on comedy first. Comedy at Bonnaroo has definitely come along way since it was first added in 2005. Coincidentally, that was also my first (and only) Bonnaroo experience, and my lone memory of the comedy tent is tweaking and running away because the opening comic's 5-minute bit of nothing but fart noises was just not making nice time with the happy place my mind was in. I never did see Charlie Murphy's act, which I regret to this day every time I crack up at his impeccable performances.
Public Enemy
Ani DiFranco
Amadou & Mariam
Shadows Fall
Heartless Bastards
Tony Rice Unit
High On Fire
Passion Pit
Dillinger Escape Plan
Wailing Souls
The Itals
MURS
White Rabbits
Janelle Monáe
Hockey
Pretty Lights
We are also proud to feature a dynamic host of national headlining comics in its ever-popular seated, air-conditioned comedy venue, “The Comedy Sweet,” presented by Butterfinger.
Jimmy Fallon
Triumph the Insult Comic Dog Presents Bonnapoo 2009
An Evening (or Afternoon) with the Daily Show featuring John Oliver & Rob Riggle
Michael Ian Black & Michael Showalter
Aziz Ansari
Kristen Schaal
Arj Barker
Todd Barry
Rory Albanese
Wayne Federman
Nick Thune
Nick Kroll
Kurt Braunohler
Amy Schumer
Kumail Nanjiani
Pete Homes
That was a long time ago, though. Bonnaroo has done such an excellent job incorporating comedy into the festival scape, that the comedy card is now almost as much anticipated as the music lineup. And despite my impatience and aforementioned whining, this year's comedy slate (air-conditioned comedy slate!) is as good as any, in my opinion, for both its quirky variety and star power.
So I didn't exactly get my wish of Flight of the Conchords, but I got the Third Conchord (Todd Barry), Dave (Arj Barker) and the Fan base (Kristen Schaal). For reals, Mel! Sweet, psychotic Mel! I love the Evening (or Afternoon) with the Daily show and the late night war at the top of the bill between Jimmy Fallon and longtime Conan favorite Triumph the Insult Dog. You may not like him on Late Night, but the Bonnaroo stage is one that Fallon should be able to own. Will ?uestlove and the Roots crew appear to help him slow jam the news? Smellson, any rumors? And what about Triumph? BonnaPOO--genius! Who saw that coming? The abundance of Springsteen's New Jersey fans should give Triumph a chance to revisit one of his funnier moments of all time, embedded for your delight below as a reminder that we stand a mere 77 days from Bonnaroo.
Thanks to Wednesday's artist additions, the list of words and phrases I will spend all of Bonnaroo weekend screaming has grown from "BRUUUUCE," "BEEEee-eaAAT....DROP!" and "CACTUS!!" to now include "FOR ME TO POOP ON!" and... ::sits down, takes deep breath::
FLAVA FLAAAAAAVVV!
Public Enemy, bitches! This year's 'Roo lineup already had me all in, but the chance to see your boy Flav live and in person is one of those artist additions that just puts a festival over the top. Winner.
Though there are other artists among the additions that make Bonnaroo extra awesome, Public Enemy is the biggest deal to me personally. I cannot wait to witness Chuck D's powerful flow and Flava Flav's batshit crazy, creeper status antics live on stage. I really can't think of a better venue for a Public Enemy set than a 90,000 person festival.
If I wasn't hyped enough for Bonnaroo, they go and bring out the greatest hype man there ever was. Now if we could only find Elliott a slot on one of the small stages and reunite these two great showmen...
I think I just blew my own mind.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Sean Singletary still matters, even if the Hoos still suck
Much like the time I had to defend Rutgers, The State University of New Jersey, to a couple of guys who claim to be from New Jersey, on Friday night I had to defend the greatest Hoo ever to a guy I was once proud to call a fellow alumnus.
I can only attribute this to the fact that he was wasted and had just finished watching a crazy end to the first round of another NCAA Tourney bereft of our beloved UVA. It wears on you when your alma mater is mired in mediocrity, but not so long ago there were good times, of which the Rossman and I vociferously tried to remind this Wahoo wannabe. Times when a man wearing number 44 roamed the backcourt and willed the Cavaliers to glory time and time again. "That team was good!" we protested. "He was All-ACC First Team three times!" we shouted. But it felt like our former friend didn't want to hear any of it, as if all the losing and lack of direction had worn him down to the point of apathy.
After completing one of our worst seasons in recent memory and firing our head coach, those times really do feel like glory days of long ago, and I'll admit that it makes me start to wonder if things will ever turn around for the Hoos. And this is sad, because as trivial, or "jocular" like our current University President likes to say, as you think sports may be, one should never have to speculate (as Rich and I sadly did Friday night, if only for a moment) whether he will live to see his favorite sports team win a championship (or in the college hoops scheme, make a Final Four run). Sadly, right now, I'd be happy just to be still watching Wahoo basketball, even if it meant we were stuck in some meaningless, you weren't even average enough to make the NIT, consolation tournament.
I just really want to believe that it's worth it to stick with my Hoos. I wouldn't give up, but I don't view it as a choice. To me, being an alum, is akin to being married -- you're stuck in unquestioning loyalty for life. UVA will always have my love and support, but I need to know that Sean Singletary mattered, that what he achieved won't flame out for nothing and future generations of Wahoos won't be mired in the same old mediocrity.
And what do you think I found to restore my faith? That's right, the commentary of a self-righteous, obnoxious, inflammatory and 86% hilarious sports blog. Imagine how reaffirming it must be to Bradley fans everywhere to see the headline "CIT Tournament Not Completely Useless." "Because the most-thrilling endings only happen in games that aren't televised," snarkitizes Dashiell Bennett. Lofty words. True words.
Words that reminded me of another one of the greatest college hoops moments you never saw, another reason why it still matters--another reason to keep blind faith alive: The time when Sean Singletary scored 6 points in 23 seconds to put the Cavaliers into the semifinals of the innaugural College Basketball Invitational. That's right, the CBI. This happened, my friends. May you, and I, and drunken UVA alums who have forgotten what a man Sean Singletary was never forget it. Hold onto your regular boring old shoes (as opposed to the dancin' variety), because you're about to witness a great moment in pointless, made up postseason college basketball tournaments!
I can only attribute this to the fact that he was wasted and had just finished watching a crazy end to the first round of another NCAA Tourney bereft of our beloved UVA. It wears on you when your alma mater is mired in mediocrity, but not so long ago there were good times, of which the Rossman and I vociferously tried to remind this Wahoo wannabe. Times when a man wearing number 44 roamed the backcourt and willed the Cavaliers to glory time and time again. "That team was good!" we protested. "He was All-ACC First Team three times!" we shouted. But it felt like our former friend didn't want to hear any of it, as if all the losing and lack of direction had worn him down to the point of apathy.
After completing one of our worst seasons in recent memory and firing our head coach, those times really do feel like glory days of long ago, and I'll admit that it makes me start to wonder if things will ever turn around for the Hoos. And this is sad, because as trivial, or "jocular" like our current University President likes to say, as you think sports may be, one should never have to speculate (as Rich and I sadly did Friday night, if only for a moment) whether he will live to see his favorite sports team win a championship (or in the college hoops scheme, make a Final Four run). Sadly, right now, I'd be happy just to be still watching Wahoo basketball, even if it meant we were stuck in some meaningless, you weren't even average enough to make the NIT, consolation tournament.
I just really want to believe that it's worth it to stick with my Hoos. I wouldn't give up, but I don't view it as a choice. To me, being an alum, is akin to being married -- you're stuck in unquestioning loyalty for life. UVA will always have my love and support, but I need to know that Sean Singletary mattered, that what he achieved won't flame out for nothing and future generations of Wahoos won't be mired in the same old mediocrity.
And what do you think I found to restore my faith? That's right, the commentary of a self-righteous, obnoxious, inflammatory and 86% hilarious sports blog. Imagine how reaffirming it must be to Bradley fans everywhere to see the headline "CIT Tournament Not Completely Useless." "Because the most-thrilling endings only happen in games that aren't televised," snarkitizes Dashiell Bennett. Lofty words. True words.
Words that reminded me of another one of the greatest college hoops moments you never saw, another reason why it still matters--another reason to keep blind faith alive: The time when Sean Singletary scored 6 points in 23 seconds to put the Cavaliers into the semifinals of the innaugural College Basketball Invitational. That's right, the CBI. This happened, my friends. May you, and I, and drunken UVA alums who have forgotten what a man Sean Singletary was never forget it. Hold onto your regular boring old shoes (as opposed to the dancin' variety), because you're about to witness a great moment in pointless, made up postseason college basketball tournaments!
Monday, March 23, 2009
Flight of the Conchords, Easbound and Down end, one maybe forever? [the one without music, kind of]
Even as I watched last night, I knew that Flight of the Conchords might be coming to an end (SPOILER ALERT...damn I hate that "spoiler alert" bullshit. Am I really spoiling anything? You're gonna watch it or not regardless. Bah, anyway). I dutifully watched on, and I have to say that if their tale ends where it started -- as two lonely deadbeat shepherds, tending their flock in the New Zealand countryside with nothing but the music inside to guide them -- then godspeed, Conchords. I will miss them if they're gone, but I consider my life enriched for having joined them for their short time on my HBO.The (potential) ending of Flight of the Conchords... forever (reviewed here). <---That would be the previously alerted spoiler. I claimed lack of funds when tickets for their Radio City shows went on sale, and now that we may have said our final goodbye to HBO Conchords, I'm kind of wishing I were going to see Live Conchords in April. I haven't received an email from Bonnaroo in about a week, and they still haven't announced any comedy acts, so this will be my Bonnaroo mention for the day (no artist countdown today. Schiff Happens may have been a musical collection back in the day, but I don't want anyone to feel like they can't come here and read something without me telling them what music to listen to). It's something I've said before, but since this could be the last time I see New Zealand's fourth most popular folk comedy duo, I must say it again. Bonnaroo, do the right thing and get Brett and Jemaine on the comedy stage. The fanbase will definitely show up.
If Flight of the Conchords is indeed over, then I hope that its end means the beginning of what I want to believe will be a great comedy series, Eastbound and Down. After spending this entire first season trying to get behind the notion that the down on his luck, sack of shit, John Rocker-inspired Kenny Powers could actually redeem himself, we find out that the lowest depths of his loserdom are yet to come. I can't wait to see what kind of hell he's capable of raising when he's truly down. Plus, I gotsta see me some more of April Bigcannons (who by the way lost a bunch of weight by the end of the season. Way to go, Katy Mixon, you are indeed a babe--6:10 is the magic mark in the link, best YouTube has to offer). I'll be tuned in the next time that mullet rolls back into town.
Kenny Powers is a winner. He's a fucking bulletproof tiger. And that's why he'll be back on top, soon enough.
The best part of HBO, of course, is that there are no commercials. However, there are 2 commercials out right now that I will watch any day:
The McDonald's filet-o-fish commercial might have almost worn out its welcome during the first 2 rounds of the NCAA tournament, when it was on incessantly, but when great intellects from Wale to The Chad tell me they can't get enough of this, I'm forced to pay attention.
Tell me you haven't found yourself alone in your home, doing some mundane task, and without warning letting out a rendition of that time-honored hook. "Give me that fiiiish!"
Next, my childhood hero has been reduced to a chocolate-shilling, slightly doughier version of his former self, but Patrick acts the same way he played -- with the heart of a warrior. "What's up, Ryan?" That's how you dominate.
How can you not love the center, at seven feet from Georgetown, throwing it down in full knee pads?
Sunday, March 22, 2009
The one where I see David Byrne's Big Suit
Great day for Los Schiffs Saturday. Baby bro turned 16, which just blows my mind. He got a classic 16th birthday present: his first electric guitar. Both middle bro and I got a visit from the Papa Schiff Chuck Wagon, and the whole family roadshow kept it rockin with a visit to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame Annex in Soho.
I've visited the Rock Hall in Cleveland, but never the one on Mercer Street, despite the fact that I have walked past the Annex many times on my way to and from work. It was a fun little space with many great artifacts to look at. The tour is accompanied by a headset which reacts to sensors around the museum exibits and plays songs by the artists you're looking at. My favorites, not necessarily in order:
1. Bruce Springsteen's '57 Chevy, purchased in 1975 for $2000
2. Johnny Cash's spangled n' studded black leather cowboy boots
3. Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel's letters to each other from Camp Lake Vu in New Brunswick, NJ.
4. John Lennon's piano (with "Imagine" playing in the headphones. I stood and stared, dumbfounded, at this for several minutes)
5. THE BIG SUIT!!
Stop Making Sense is probably my all-time favorite concert movie. I was mesmerized by it from the opening strains of "Psycho Killer" and dove face-first into the Talking Heads immediately after the final notes of "Crosseyed and Painless." It was an incredible joy to turn around a corner at the Annex and see David Byrne bending and bouncing around as the movie played on what I thought was just a big screen embedded in the Talking Heads exhibit. But my heart truly went aflutter when the image of the film faded to reveal behind a glass window... the suit!
During said Talking Heads obsession, I developed a pretty mean David Byrne impression and eventually developed a not so secret desire to dance around in the big suit and bust out "Girlfriend Is Better." Mr. Byrne himself will be performing a set at Bonnaroo this year, and though I wouldn't dare try to upstage him by wearing his iconic outfit to his set, there's another artist on the bill who welcomes and encourages costumed audience members. Bonnaroo just keeps giving me more and more signs that this is the year I must return.
I admit that I definitely need to brush up on Byrne's solo work, and I'm excited to get into it. That being said, he's bound to bust out a few choice Heads jams, and I'll cheer loudly. Hey solo David Byrne, what do you think of Big Suit David Byrne? I'd like to write a song about hairdos...
I said it last Sunday, and I'll say it now since the season (series?) finale just wrapped up not too long ago. Flight of the Conchords need to stage their hit B'way show at B'roo. Hippies won't care if you're illegal immigrants -- they have their own priors to worry about.
Also, open of tonight's Eastbound & Down finale, FTW!!
I've visited the Rock Hall in Cleveland, but never the one on Mercer Street, despite the fact that I have walked past the Annex many times on my way to and from work. It was a fun little space with many great artifacts to look at. The tour is accompanied by a headset which reacts to sensors around the museum exibits and plays songs by the artists you're looking at. My favorites, not necessarily in order:
1. Bruce Springsteen's '57 Chevy, purchased in 1975 for $2000
2. Johnny Cash's spangled n' studded black leather cowboy boots
3. Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel's letters to each other from Camp Lake Vu in New Brunswick, NJ.
4. John Lennon's piano (with "Imagine" playing in the headphones. I stood and stared, dumbfounded, at this for several minutes)
5. THE BIG SUIT!!
Stop Making Sense is probably my all-time favorite concert movie. I was mesmerized by it from the opening strains of "Psycho Killer" and dove face-first into the Talking Heads immediately after the final notes of "Crosseyed and Painless." It was an incredible joy to turn around a corner at the Annex and see David Byrne bending and bouncing around as the movie played on what I thought was just a big screen embedded in the Talking Heads exhibit. But my heart truly went aflutter when the image of the film faded to reveal behind a glass window... the suit!
During said Talking Heads obsession, I developed a pretty mean David Byrne impression and eventually developed a not so secret desire to dance around in the big suit and bust out "Girlfriend Is Better." Mr. Byrne himself will be performing a set at Bonnaroo this year, and though I wouldn't dare try to upstage him by wearing his iconic outfit to his set, there's another artist on the bill who welcomes and encourages costumed audience members. Bonnaroo just keeps giving me more and more signs that this is the year I must return.
I admit that I definitely need to brush up on Byrne's solo work, and I'm excited to get into it. That being said, he's bound to bust out a few choice Heads jams, and I'll cheer loudly. Hey solo David Byrne, what do you think of Big Suit David Byrne? I'd like to write a song about hairdos...
I said it last Sunday, and I'll say it now since the season (series?) finale just wrapped up not too long ago. Flight of the Conchords need to stage their hit B'way show at B'roo. Hippies won't care if you're illegal immigrants -- they have their own priors to worry about.
Also, open of tonight's Eastbound & Down finale, FTW!!
Saturday, March 21, 2009
All this spring makes me feel like partying
Wow, looks like I'm doing a real bang-up job of that whole not skipping days in the Bonnaroo countdown thing. I'm gonna have to start doing what I should have been doing all along, which is writing like 12 of these at a time and just letting them post, automated style. I kind of enjoy adding artists based on what I'm feeling at the moment, or relevant stories, but that's obviously not going to make for a very effective countdown. I'll find the balance. For now, it's the weekend, the weather is gorgeous and snow-free, and the fam is headed into town for baby bro's big 16th birthday celebration. All this awesomeness makes me wanna party.
(Cue Bonnaroo artist Paul Oakenfold... uuntz uuntz uuntz uuntz)
I kinda feel like partying right now.
As you may already be aware, Paul Oakenfold is a legendary DJ/remixer. He has sold millions of albums and hosted epic shows all over the world, from Ibiza to the Great Wall of China. You've heard more of his work than you probably even realize. If you don't know who he is, I really don't know what to tell you. Go to his official site or, I don't know, just put on the freakin radio, you're bound to hear some Oakenfold at some point.
Oakenfold's Bonnaroo set is destined to be a late night banger. With 80,000 screaming hippies, fist-pumpers and rednecks, it's gonna be some kind of rowdy. For now there are still 81 days until we find out if I packed my Party Boy outfit with my 'Roo gear. And if that image offends you, I'll apologize, but I won't take off my glasses. They're effin famous.
And that's how you party.
(Cue Bonnaroo artist Paul Oakenfold... uuntz uuntz uuntz uuntz)
I kinda feel like partying right now.
As you may already be aware, Paul Oakenfold is a legendary DJ/remixer. He has sold millions of albums and hosted epic shows all over the world, from Ibiza to the Great Wall of China. You've heard more of his work than you probably even realize. If you don't know who he is, I really don't know what to tell you. Go to his official site or, I don't know, just put on the freakin radio, you're bound to hear some Oakenfold at some point.
Oakenfold's Bonnaroo set is destined to be a late night banger. With 80,000 screaming hippies, fist-pumpers and rednecks, it's gonna be some kind of rowdy. For now there are still 81 days until we find out if I packed my Party Boy outfit with my 'Roo gear. And if that image offends you, I'll apologize, but I won't take off my glasses. They're effin famous.
And that's how you party.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Ticketmaster hates Phish fans [Another Epic Fail]
Well, it happened. Luckily, nobody but a couple of fackers and, according to the stats, no less than seven of their lovable lady friends noticed it, but yesterday was the first flat tire along the Schiff Happens road to Bonnaroo. Yes, friends, I skipped a day on the Bonnaroo countdown.
I have no excuse for this egregious error, but here are some potentially reasonable explanations as to why this happened:
As soon as I saw this was happening, I went into frenzy mode. I @replied to a Twitter user called @imtrappedintime, the first person I saw tweet about the secretly released tickets. Feeling like I was working within an extremely limited time window, I eschewed the phone and instead instant messaged anyone I could find online who might care. I navigated the Ticketmaster site and, to my amazement, broke through to an order page. I actually backed out, with tickets in hand, out of sheer disbelief. I was able to get through a second time (nothing short of a miracle if you recall what happened the last time Phish tickets went on sale), and was staring at a 4-day, General Admission pass to what will no doubt be the jewel of the late summer tour. At this point, I am simultaneously having two separate IM conversations that both look something like this:
I waited instead of celebrating, mostly because even after I saw that my order had gone through, I found it impossible to believe that any of what had just transpired was real. How had it happened? Was there a friendly fan working for Ticketmaster? Was it a planned move by the band to thwart second-party scalpers (this was a prevailing rumor immediately after the tickets became unavailable again)? Was it simply a glitch that would inevitably be heartbreakingly corrected? There was no way to know for sure, and thus no way to be anything but cautiously optimistic. At least not for a couple of minutes, until, sure enough, I got the confirmation email. Then the payment hold on my online checking account statement. Holy shit, it was really happening. I scored the motherlovin golden ticket!
And then, a few short hours later, I met Slugworth in a back alley, and he buttfucked that golden ticket right out of my hands. In an epic case of, "I never should have gotten my hopes up because it was always too good to be true," Ticketmaster declared that the tickets had been released in error, and that all orders would be canceled.
Now, Ticketmaster is apparently within their rights to do this in the event of this kind of unintended premature sale, as their terms of service (which I am quite aware that I agreed to simply by clicking "Submit Purchase") state. However, in light of the aforementioned LiveNation disaster, the controversy surrounding the Ticketmaster/LiveNation merger, and recent condemnation of their shady practices from influential artists like Trent Reznor and Bruce Springsteen (throw a fist!), I can't help but think of all the great PR Ticketmaster would have received if they had simply decided to let the purchases stand. They could have said, "We effed ourselves a little bit, but scores of loyal fans got tickets, and that's ultimately what Ticketmaster is here to provide." Instead, they bent us all over and stole our Everlasting Gobstoppers. Again. As usual.
It stings to have the Golden Ticket in hand momentarily only to see it ripped away, but in the end, I'm no worse off right now than I was when I woke up yesterday. I've put in my official lottery request, and I'll be damned if I'm not due to win one of these things. I'm remaining optimistic, but my experience last night taught me that I'll always have to be prepared to be let down as long as Ticketmaster/LiveNation is the only way for me to procure the tickets necessary to go see the live music that I love so much.
The point, dear reader, is that I got wrapped up in other things and lost sight of my goal -- those Bonnaroo festival gates, miles from sight, inviting me to join the summer's biggest party. However, there's no reason to fret. We've still got our spot in line and will continue to count it down from here on out. In light of this most recent Ticketmaster disaster, I think it's only right that we pick up the countdown with a little bit of Bonnaroo artist Nine Inch Nails. Between Mr. Reznor's aforementioned tirade against Ticketmaster, and the fact that several of Nine Inch Nails' albums -- The Downward Spiral, Further Down the Spiral, Pretty Hate Machine -- could be used to describe the company, it just makes sense. I've always been fascinated by NIN but a little bit too terrified to fully dive into their catalog, so I look forward to freaking the living piss out of myself as I prepare myself for their set at the 'Roo just 83 short days from today.*
UPDATE: Phish have issued their official response. Nothing really surprising there. The bigger update is that Ticketmaster sent me and the rest of the melancholoy Phishheads a letter explaining the situation, which included the following conciliatory paragraph:
Fuckmylife Ticketmaster.
*If you don't want your precious childhood memories corrupted forever, or if you hate to laugh, then don't watch Kermit the Frog's rendition of "Hurt."
I have no excuse for this egregious error, but here are some potentially reasonable explanations as to why this happened:
- I have an actual job with actual work to do that doesn't involve sarcastic riffs on Philly sucking, the biggest loser in the history of reality television, or mustaches.
- I spent a few hours back at the doctor's office, including a subway voyage from work to the Upper East Side that was a pile of fail at every turn for absolutely no reason. On the plus side, I received a clean bill of health and was able to conclude my 24 hour Holter experiment, which ended with the same nurse who had hooked me up to the device on Tuesday violently ripping electrodes off of my torso and saying, "I told you it was gonna hurt." Of course, she saved the lone electrode that was deeply embedded in chest hair (the rest were on the sides of my abdomen) for last, building the nervous anticipation for my unplanned partial chest waxing. I may or may not have exclaimed "IAMSPARTACUS!" at the moment of detachment.
- I participated in the latest chapter of "How to Lose Friends and Alienate People," authored by the friendly scalpers at Ticketmaster. I smell a story....
As soon as I saw this was happening, I went into frenzy mode. I @replied to a Twitter user called @imtrappedintime, the first person I saw tweet about the secretly released tickets. Feeling like I was working within an extremely limited time window, I eschewed the phone and instead instant messaged anyone I could find online who might care. I navigated the Ticketmaster site and, to my amazement, broke through to an order page. I actually backed out, with tickets in hand, out of sheer disbelief. I was able to get through a second time (nothing short of a miracle if you recall what happened the last time Phish tickets went on sale), and was staring at a 4-day, General Admission pass to what will no doubt be the jewel of the late summer tour. At this point, I am simultaneously having two separate IM conversations that both look something like this:
ZOMGPHISHPASSESONSALEWTF?!?! What do we do? Do we buy them? Are we even going to go? Is this real? WTF is going on? Should I click submit? I'm gonna click submit. Did you submit? What do I do what do I do WHATDOIDO I'MFREAKINOUT!!!I don't know what came over me, but once my UVA fraternity buddy said he had submitted his request, I had to do it. Spontaneous $200 purchases for events that are months away and will be taking place across the country generally do not show up anywhere in the Schiff Happens playbook. It's just not something I do. But I did it. And then I waited....
I waited instead of celebrating, mostly because even after I saw that my order had gone through, I found it impossible to believe that any of what had just transpired was real. How had it happened? Was there a friendly fan working for Ticketmaster? Was it a planned move by the band to thwart second-party scalpers (this was a prevailing rumor immediately after the tickets became unavailable again)? Was it simply a glitch that would inevitably be heartbreakingly corrected? There was no way to know for sure, and thus no way to be anything but cautiously optimistic. At least not for a couple of minutes, until, sure enough, I got the confirmation email. Then the payment hold on my online checking account statement. Holy shit, it was really happening. I scored the motherlovin golden ticket!
And then, a few short hours later, I met Slugworth in a back alley, and he buttfucked that golden ticket right out of my hands. In an epic case of, "I never should have gotten my hopes up because it was always too good to be true," Ticketmaster declared that the tickets had been released in error, and that all orders would be canceled.
Now, Ticketmaster is apparently within their rights to do this in the event of this kind of unintended premature sale, as their terms of service (which I am quite aware that I agreed to simply by clicking "Submit Purchase") state. However, in light of the aforementioned LiveNation disaster, the controversy surrounding the Ticketmaster/LiveNation merger, and recent condemnation of their shady practices from influential artists like Trent Reznor and Bruce Springsteen (throw a fist!), I can't help but think of all the great PR Ticketmaster would have received if they had simply decided to let the purchases stand. They could have said, "We effed ourselves a little bit, but scores of loyal fans got tickets, and that's ultimately what Ticketmaster is here to provide." Instead, they bent us all over and stole our Everlasting Gobstoppers. Again. As usual.
It stings to have the Golden Ticket in hand momentarily only to see it ripped away, but in the end, I'm no worse off right now than I was when I woke up yesterday. I've put in my official lottery request, and I'll be damned if I'm not due to win one of these things. I'm remaining optimistic, but my experience last night taught me that I'll always have to be prepared to be let down as long as Ticketmaster/LiveNation is the only way for me to procure the tickets necessary to go see the live music that I love so much.
The point, dear reader, is that I got wrapped up in other things and lost sight of my goal -- those Bonnaroo festival gates, miles from sight, inviting me to join the summer's biggest party. However, there's no reason to fret. We've still got our spot in line and will continue to count it down from here on out. In light of this most recent Ticketmaster disaster, I think it's only right that we pick up the countdown with a little bit of Bonnaroo artist Nine Inch Nails. Between Mr. Reznor's aforementioned tirade against Ticketmaster, and the fact that several of Nine Inch Nails' albums -- The Downward Spiral, Further Down the Spiral, Pretty Hate Machine -- could be used to describe the company, it just makes sense. I've always been fascinated by NIN but a little bit too terrified to fully dive into their catalog, so I look forward to freaking the living piss out of myself as I prepare myself for their set at the 'Roo just 83 short days from today.*
UPDATE: Phish have issued their official response. Nothing really surprising there. The bigger update is that Ticketmaster sent me and the rest of the melancholoy Phishheads a letter explaining the situation, which included the following conciliatory paragraph:
In addition, we’d like to show our sincere regret for this error by providing you with a gift certificate in the amount of $50.00 that is redeemable for any purchase for tickets to qualifying events on Ticketmaster.com or through our call centers as long as your order was in accordance with our standard order guidelines. You should receive this gift certificate in the next two weeks.So some small bit of good has come out of this... I guess. "We set you up for heartbreak -- oops, our bad -- but please enjoy this 50 dollars, which you can attempt to use next week as you inevitably get shut out of the same tickets you already had in your hand because we've sold them all to scalpers."
We are sorry that we were not able to provide you with the tickets you ordered and hope that we will have the chance to serve you better in the future. We encourage you to visit Ticketmaster at the scheduled onsale for Phish at Red Rocks currently scheduled for Thursday March 26, 2009 at 12:00 pm MT.
Fuck
*If you don't want your precious childhood memories corrupted forever, or if you hate to laugh, then don't watch Kermit the Frog's rendition of "Hurt."
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
The great tradition of Yankee Staches continues!
I can't believe I was beaten at my own game by a bunch of dudes who spend their weekends chasing beat-up redneck wino tail and tormenting old ladies. Nevertheless, the most pinstriped player in Yankees history has apparently taken on the proud and storied role of "Yankee Player with a Sweet Stache."
So now when CC Sabathia gets called out of the dugout to tip his cap to the crowd, is that Lip Curtain Call? Long live the Yankee Stache!
Seriously can't believe you Fackers scooped me on a Yankee mustache story. I must be slipping.
CC Sastachia [Drunken defacers of property, or as they prefer to be known, Fack Youk]
So now when CC Sabathia gets called out of the dugout to tip his cap to the crowd, is that Lip Curtain Call? Long live the Yankee Stache!
Seriously can't believe you Fackers scooped me on a Yankee mustache story. I must be slipping.
CC Sastachia [Drunken defacers of property, or as they prefer to be known, Fack Youk]
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