Anyway, YouTube's "Related Videos" feature is a godsend, especially when it comes to obscure indie artists and their obscur-er videos. I don't know ... is Daedalus obscure any more? I'm so out of touch, I couldn't begin to tell you about his hipster status. Maybe he sold out, for all I know. Whatever -- I like the fuck out of him, and have since I discovered him in high school through Epitonic. "Quiet Now" by Busdriver is by far the best track on the little collection there, but they're all worth a listen. And they're free! And legal!
So yeah, more Daedalus videos -- all poppy, all catchy, all with a similar aesthetic, all jawsome.
A friend and I were discussing music videos a few days ago (specifically Animal Collective's "Peacebone") and I came to the conclusion that I wasn't sure why artists made them any more. I can't remember the last time I actually saw one on TV, much less one that was visually and orally compelling. But then I just spent an hour watching artsy-fartsy Daedalus videos and I remembered why people still make them: because they can be fucking awesome.
P.S. The fine folks at NinjaTune have Daedalus' Fair Weather Friends EP available for stream. See Orcist stream. Stream, Orcist, stream.
While studying for my for my Astronomy exam (P.S. I helped discover a fucking comet!), I came across a star named Thuban, in the constellation Draco. With my encyclopedic knowledge of Final Fantasy X -- I played it for 173 hours; I ought to know something -- I remembered that this was also the name of the last, terrifying optional boss in the Arena. I had a suspicion that the names of celestial beings might pre-date 2001, so I went searching.
And what do you know -- Thuban is the Arabic word for "dragon!" And it's the constellation Draco! Thuban is a Chinese Meth Dragon!* My connections, let me show you them!
Anyway, I've strayed significantly from the topic of this post: how did I found out what a Thuban was? The T entry in the myth alphabet book. Not only was it informative and interesting, but it was accompanied by this stellar image:
I love this so hard. I'm glad that whoever chose to compile this didn't use the same old Greek and Roman and Norse gods and chose to mix it up. Most of these are Slavic, Eastern, or Irish -- a refreshing change from Ares and Thor. I mean, you guys are cool and all, but Kevin Sorbo isn't. Not only are these really cool, indie, low-fi deities, but they're all accompanied by fantastic artwork, each featuring the cutest amorphous blobthing I've ever seen. Seriously, take 15 minutes and scroll through all of these.
Unfortunately, there's no author information to be found, so I don't know where to mail the handjobs and the human sacrifices. That's really about the nicest thing I can say about a serendipitous find. It's just so good.
*There is some speculation that the actual phrase is "Chinese Myth Dragon" but Dragonite smokes hella meth, and you all know it.
So -- I've never filmed myself before. Let me clarify -- I've never filmed myself before and put it on YouTube. That shit is for crack-addled teenage girls and pretentious boobs. Seriously, nobody gives a shit.
But.
What if someone did give a shit? What if half a dozen someones gave a shit? What if making videos of yourself is an incredibly effective procrastination tool?
One of the good things about the whole Destructoid thing is that, once you're a part of it, you can relate, at least on a few (perhaps perfunctory) levels, to everyone else there. We might not all like robots, or toys, or flannel shirts, but we all like Destructoid enough to have signed up for it and to check out where the mascot came from.
For the record, I didn't plan for the fucking robot to stall out at weird times and interrupt me when I was talking. I also don't know what compelled me to a.) use this take or b.) do this at all, except for the fact that it was more fun than studying.
I like to think that when you break your YouTube cherry, it's acceptable to compulsively watch yourself over and over. But, that might be my raging egocentrism talking.
It's been a long month.
Between exams, totaling my car (and all of the consequent hassles -- insurance, getting new glasses, shopping for a new computer, etc.), receiving word that I won't be going abroad next semester, and general just-too-much-ery, I haven't had much time to chronicle the goings-on of the internet in this handy dandy blog-cum-social network. The Flaming Lips are great, but I can't just leave them up for months at a time.
In an effort to efficiently remedy this situation, here are a collection of images that, for various reasons, I deemed worthy to leave in the digital Purgatory of my inbox. Sure, they'd get posted eventually, but when? The time of The Ascension is now!
Part of what I've learned during my tenure at Destructoid is that it's polite and considered good form to link back to the original source of compelling and interesting content. Alas, the problem with your friends peddling their sweet internet wares via e-mail is that filenames don't leave manageable paper trails. While I'd love to give credit where credit is due, I'll leave it to karma (as opposed to ad hits) to repay whoever is responsible for this cornucopia of jawsome.
Poking around Ectomo instead of tackling a huge and sexy to-do list, I stumbled across this Flaming Lips video. Thank you, Ross Rosenberg, for reminding me of this delightfully quirky and endearing tune.
But, seriously, he's right. It would be bad if the robots won.
And since I'm here, check out this sweet tattoo:
Or even if you could give a shit about finely-orchestrated gypsy music, the videos are overly artsy enough to be disdainful of.
M.I.A's "20 Dollar" is what we in the know call a "grower"
which is to say that, the first time I heard it, I was mildly
disinterested and aggressively unimpressed. I mean, I guess that
referencing the Pixies is cool, but choose a more obscure song for
maximum street cred. Much to my chagrin, I couldn't seem to escape the
damned thing until I realized that it was growing on me.
In an equally hip, yet vastly more subtle, move, M.I.A also managed to lift
Seriously,
give it a listen. The Orgy version might actually make this phenomenon
easier to hear. Either way, it explains this song's peculiar ability to
get stuck in my head even though I don't know any of the goddamned
words. Actually, that might ruin it.
For now, I'll just enjoy what amounts to an elaborate New Order/Pixies mash-up.
Not that that's a bad thing.
Enter Munky King, home of some sort of indie art scene and an event hosted by StrangeCo, some sort of indie designer toy store. The flyer to your left is for an exhibit featuring 6 years worth of Dean Bradley's character designs and the release of the Mainframe vinyl toy.
It's a cool flyer for a cool toy, one for which I have neither the money, nor the shelf space (I fill those motherfuckers up with books, learning, and science). Hell, I don't even know who Dean Bradley is, but, goddamnit, I probably would if I lived in New York or San Francisco, or at least in the swanky suburbs thereof.
In any case, poking around on StrangeCo and Munky King have left me wanting to see more of these designer toy-model things. I enjoy them from an aesthetic, nouveauretro perspective -- beauty and badassitude for badassitude's sake, not because I particularly need them or cluttering up my shelf space which, like I said, has science on it.
When I move into somewhere more permanent than a dorm (or even my room at home -- between jetsetting around Europe, school, and various cons, I can't remember the last time I was home for more than 2 weeks) I want to dedicate a huge wall to art, inspired by Lippy's apartment in New Orleans. He framed a bunch of posters / ads / flyers and hung them all on one wall, kind of sporadically, with everything overlapping in various artsy places, like some sort of cubist explosion made manifest. I don't know much about aesthetics, but I know what I like. The problem is that I've never had enough prints to cover a space large enough for full effect.
In any case, the point is that a.) I like posters, even though I can't use them; b.) I'm a hobo, but when I settle down, I have an artistic vision of my interior decor; c.) I like this WiReD poster from NextFest.
Yes, this poster is awesome, a cosmic reflection of its eponymous magazine. Game|Life is consistently good, as is Wired as a whole. While gaming magazines are dying the slow, agonizing death of printed media, Wired is varied enough to keep from stagnating, and offers the really in-depth features that are missing from, say EGM or *shudder* GamePro. If I hadn't just spent so much money at E for All, I would totally throw down on a Wired subscription. But, then again, I'd spend more time trying to get them forwarded throughout the mid-South (and, oh my christ, France) than I would actually reading them.
P.S. My favorite poster that I do have is the one that came included in Sam and Max, season 1 (thank you, Telltale!), which I plan on playing this weekend, assuming I can finish Shadow of the Colossus, and can pull myself away from Phantom Hourglass, Katamari Damacy, Puzzle Quest, and Killer 7. If I had a working camera, I would show you it.
P.S.S. lol @ NextLust
Overheard at the LAX baggage claim, waiting for RonWorkman and Niero to pick me up:
"Why are you fucking my daughter?"
A mother, presumably to her daughter's lover.
