Here’s another reason we need to eliminate animals from the planet: they don’t respect our music.
According to a new study, ladybugs that are exposed to rock ‘n roll music tend to eat fewer aphids than those who had no dining music or listened to soft country music, which is of course, worse than anything. Researchers at Mississippi State University found that exposing these predatory bugs to AC/DC made them lose their appetites, which is bad news if you’re a farmer or gardener.
So, no more rocking out while you till the soil. You could have an infestation on your hands.
If you think you can just walk around in public carrying a bassoon in Ohio, think again. The law is going to come knocking.
Ohio has tough anti-woodwind laws in place that are being challenged in court, but for now they are still on the books. Recently, a New England Conservatory student home on break decided to play his bassoon outdoors. He sat on the trunk of his car and began playing scales. A few minutes later, the cops showed up. Someone reported a man with a long rifle sitting on his car.
Luckily, the police didn’t overreact. They slowly made their way over to the student until he was disarmed. We can only hope that he’s rotting in jail.
It’s happened to everyone: you’re putting on some music to set the mood, only to find out that your selection just doesn’t have the beat you’re going for. Bed Beats is here to make this slight inconvenience a thing of the past.
Bed Beats is an app that’s been around for a year or so, but is only getting press now. It plays a the genre of music that you want, at the tempo you want for getting it on. No more getting offbeat (or the other way around) in bed, which someone out there must think is an issue. But if you think Bed Beats is some clever app that selects songs you’ve heard of based on their tempos, you’re wrong. It just has a selection of beats from different genres of music, and you can make it play faster or slower.
This is also helpful if you like to rap while doing it.
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!