The Bible tells us that animals have no souls, despite every pet owner in the world trying to humanize their pets with captions on Facebook. We just got further confirmation that they have no souls, and by “they,” we mean sea lions.
Researchers at the University of California-Santa Cruz have been conducting tests on their prisoners, conducting psychological warfare by playing terrible music. What they found is nothing short of shocking. Sea lions are able to bob their heads to the beat of a song they have heard before.
Further, when they hear a new song, a Backstreet Boys song, they are able to bob their heads to that as well. Which means that sea lions like the Backstreet Boys. Not even our interrogation tactics work against them!
This past weekend, I went deep undercover to investigate the unwashed underbelly of the patchoulingest music festival this side of Burning Man: Bonaroo.
So as not to arouse suspicion, I traveled in an assembled “hippie herd,” including a wife and another married couple. I disguised myself in a head bandanna and body odor.
What I uncovered shocked, entertained and disgusted me, often all at the same time. I witnessed both the glorious and ugliest sides of humanity. At times, I almost lost myself in the role, but after severe deprogramming with copious amounts of red meat, I return to bring you this report. Continue reading Take it from Snee: Bonaroo Book Report
In case you’re skimming through this, that’s “fragile rockers,” not “Fraggle Rockers.” I will discuss the medical issues of Gobo and the gang in a column some time in the future.
As many of you now already know, we lost Ronnie James Dio yesterday. He died of stomach cancer, surrounded by friends and of course, lots of fake blood. His death brings a sobering moment to us all, especially the metal community, who are among the most conscious of mortuary affairs of all musicians.
What his death points out is something very important: our rock singers are not as flawless and ageless as they would have us believe. No, they are mere mortals, blessed with the ability to rock us. What can we do to save them? There’s no easy answer. Continue reading The McBournie Minute: What’s wrong with our fragile rockers?
In the weeks following Roger Ebert’s tweet (ugh) about video games never being art, I decided to try something new. Instead of instantly reacting and writing, I thought. And read. And observed. And then I thought some more. I may have also masturbated to a Michaelangelo. But, then I thought about that.
Point is: you can call this a slow reaction to a story that everyone has already had his or her say on. I call it deliberate.
You see, Ebert brought up an excellent idea, perhaps without realizing it (though I wouldn’t put it past the cheeky booger-monger). What do we consider art, and more importantly, why isn’t it? Video games can’t be the only field that millions of people–including the artists that work on them–mistake for art.
So, after a lot of revoked library cards and expulsion from every major art gallery with a listing on Craigslist, I have come back from the wilderness, not to tell you what art is, but what isn’t art. Continue reading Take it from Snee: What isn’t art
While I’m certainly glad to see more people writing thanks to the advent of blogging, twittering and other terms that were previously symptoms of pleurisy; whereas I am also elated to say goodbye to the biggest waste of a decade since the 1460s (was there any good music that decade?); and because I look forward to the Twenty-Ten future, I am officially sick of all retrospectives about this and any other decade from here on out.
To make sure one is never written again, I’ve done you all a favor and written and all-encompassing one that should work for the next hundred years.* Don’t think I’ve left out names to be vaguely correct: in 10 years’ time, you’ll have forgotten most of the “important” people of this past decade, too.
*If this template still applies after 100 years, you’re on your own because I should be dead. Hopefully of something awesome like breastclimbing or mesotheligladiator fights.
Well, it’s been another 10 years, and what a 10 years it’s been! Let’s recap the good, bad and weird from this decade. Continue reading Take it from Snee: Retrospect this
It was recently determined that monkeys do not like what we call music. I am not sure if this means they hate everything from Mozart to that new Jay-Z song, but apparently they do not appreciate music we like.
Why is this? Perhaps they think they are better than us, perhaps hearing our music only reminds them of how oppressive we have been toward all animals for thousands of years.
Now, musicians are making music for monkeys–and they like it. You know how elevator music is intended to put us in a better mood? Imagine the control we could have over these creatures, we could control them! At the very worst, we can tell them that the music they like sucks.
According to CNN, Rob Thomas is apparently releasing a new straight-to-Starbucks solo album. He’s also so still in Matchbox 20, that 90’s band your high school girlfriend loved to dry hump to, that his band members don’t know where he is.
But the article wins the coveted SG Headline of the Day because of this quote:
“If I’m not out supporting my work, I really don’t want people to see me. I go to movie premieres — my wife and I — all the time, and nine out of 10 of those movie premieres, much to my publicist’s dismay, I get there, but I sneak around the pictures and get into the party [using the back entrance].”
Yes, Rob, that’s what happened. You didn’t want people to recognize you.
Reverse psychology FTW!
Sometimes, there are things I want to get off my chest that wouldn’t warrant a full weekly column for each. In the past, I’ve done these as Lightning Rounds, and that’s what I’m still calling this. But, it’s not following the same format.
Basically, the following are too big for twitter, too small for “Take it from Snee” and too opinionated for regular SeriouslyGuys posts. It doesn’t help that I saw Funny People this weekend and, like the rest of America, now believe that I could do that. Continue reading Take it from Snee: Just a few things
Quick, before someone tries to cover it up or explain it all away. Check out this picture from the CNN story.
Yes, there was an accident at a Madonna concert in France, which is tragic of course, but look closer. The French ambulance, a vehicle whose sole purpose is to transport the injured and sometimes dead to the hospital, says in big letters “REANIMATION.”
Yes, reanimation. As in rising from the dead. It’s been a while since we heard from the undead, but they certainly seem to be around. Don’t let Madonna bite you!
Phil Spector, just one of many celebrated psychopaths in the American music industry (but the only one to hold The Ramones hostage), was found guilty yesterday of the second-degree murder of Lana Clarkson.
In an inconceivable situation, Clarkson was found dead in Spector’s Los Angeles home from a gunshot wound. His arrest and trial led to the world’s most bizarre collection of courtroom sketches in recent history. Seriously, people haven’t worn wigs this bad in court since the invention of the guillotine.
The Guys wish Phil all the best during his sentencing. He’s a talented individual that just can’t handle his guns, bullets, ego, wardrobe, talent or his individual self.
You may have only gotten second-degree murder, but it’ll always be first in our hearts.