On the Soundtrack to the Coming Apocalypse

So, it's been in the news lately, maybe you've heard mention of it...but the Apocalypse is upon us. Perhaps you've heard of an ancient group of people called the Mayans who were super-smart and created this calendar that apparently just suddenly stops at December 21st this year, which I guess means the world's just going to end. They were even so confident about this event they created a website for it.

Anyway, don't even bother denying that you're not scared about this. Because it's totally going to happen, and you know it, I know it, Dwight Howard knows it. Everyone. And what I'd like to share with you today is the soundtrack that will accompany this catastrophic, world-ending event. And hopefully it will make you feel a little better about said event.

First, before I tell you the name of this band, I must clarify how I even stumbled upon them. I've long had a special place in my heart for Jewish klezmer music, as well as Russian folk dance music. Or maybe I should be less specific and just say "Eastern European-ish folky dance music, the kind where everyone dances drunkenly in circles and shouts and stuff."

I'm not sure where my love for it derived. Maybe it's because I once played one of the the only non-singing parts in "Fiddler on the Roof," and that musical has vague shades of both of those types interwoven with Tevye's hilarious banter with God. So lately I've been requesting stuff from the library that might fit with that. "Jewish Wedding Songs," was one. "Russian Folk Dances" was another (at least I think it was. The text was all in Russian, which I am unable to read because I am not a Cold War-era spy). And one day I noticed a new CD pop in the rotation and I naturally pounced, not really knowing anything about the group. Their name?

The Diablo Swing Orchestra.The album was called "Pandora's Pinata."

I mean come on! With a name like that how can you resist?

So I get the CD one day from the library and pop it into my car's CD player. I'm not sure what I was expecting, really. Maybe a "devilish" swing band, with a couple crazzeeee fiddle players and some other general awesomeness. I was clearly unprepared for the complete tonal assault on my senses that promptly totally overloaded my synapses.

Little did I know that the Diablo Swing Orchestra is a Swedish avant-garde metal band. Their record label, appropriately enough, is called Sensory Records.

It's off to the races from the start, as the album opens with a freakout called "Voodoo Mon Amour," and your mind is effing blown. Had I not been on an interstate with little shoulder room, I would've probably pulled off the road.

Within a minute, they've managed to combine Gershwin's Summertime, metal guitars, ska horns, operatic singing, an awesomely catchy chorus and a swing beat into one goddam song. Then about three minutes in, what do you know it, but devilish strings! Congratulations, my brain is molten mush.

And I'm pretty sure that when the Diablo Swing Orchestra was making this album, they knew they were summoning were crafting the soundtrack to the coming Apocalypse. Just look at some of these song titles: "Kevlar Sweethearts," "Mass Rapture," "Exit Strategy of a Wrecking Ball."

Or the second song on the album, "Guerilla Laments." They knew exactly what they were doing.

And all this means, really, is that as giant Jupiter-sized volcanoes erupt from the depths of the oceans and belch great fiery balls of hot molten lava over the continents and 200 mile per hour winds blow torrential ice and hail across the plains, we will at least have something to groove to as our bodies turn to dust.

Thank you, Diablo Swing Orchestra.

On Swindling

As a Hoosier (that means someone from Indiana, not necessarily someone who went to Indiana University, or who derives their personality from a movie starring Gene Hackman and Dennis Hopper*), and someone whose adolescence corresponded with the rise of the Reggie Miller Era of the Indiana Pacers (Boom Baby, Knicks v Hicks, Memorial Day Miracle, etc.), I still have a strong allegiance to the blue and gold. That means I also have a skewed worldview that I share with fans from other small-market teams of the NBA, otherwise collectively known as the "David Stern Big Market Farm System."

 *Note: I have never seen Hoosiers.

So in the last couple days, when news of the Dwight Howard "trade" from the Orlando Magic to Los Angeles Lakers for a bunch of trash, it just confirmed to we of the Small Team Brigade, fans of teams like the Milwaukee Bucks, Sacramento Kings, Portland Trailblazers, and yes, Orlando Magic, it's the Lakers and Heat and other big towns' world, we're just living in it.

Now, I've already seen a post by a Lakers fan I know, and he essentially thinks this is a fair trade. He was incredulous that anyone would even think it was a giant swindling by the Lakers. "They traded Andrew Bynum, the second best center in the league!" he pointed out, probably laughing the entire time. "And two young athletic players (giggle, snort), and a future first-round pick as well! (doubles over with laughter)"

Which is a total goddam joke. Let's review.

The Lakers traded Andrew Bynum, Josh McRoberts, Christian Eyenga and a future first-round draft pick.

Ok, Andrew Bynum is technically a physically gifted center, a "true" 7 foot center with a giant frame, subtle offensive skills, and a pretty good rebounding rate. Sure, he probably is the second best center in the league....when he's interested. And that's the problem. I'm willing to bet in two years, after his enigmatic, aloof, bizarre, teasingly talented self drives Philly to consecutive .500 finishes, he wont be able to safely walk from his car to the arena in Philly without a horde of fans loaded on Riot Punch descend upon him with batteries and frozen snowballs at the ready.

Josh McRoberts? Ugh.
Christian Eyenga? Who?

And that future first-round pick is useless will be in the low 20s at the very least, meaning the Magic get a future version of Josh McRoberts or Christian Eyenga. Yippee!

Now, obviously Orlando got some other crap from some other teams. But come on. Arron Afflalo is probably stunned he's the best player going to the Magic out of this deal. Al Harrington will be traded by the deadline, I guarantee you. And those five draft picks over the next five years, um, yeah good luck with that. And even if Orlando manages to snag some future Hall of Fame talent with that pick, it's not hard to imagine that player following the blue print laid down by Shaq and Howard and leave town too.

So, to make a long-winded point short, yes, the Lakers just swindled the hell out of everyone, and probably set themselves up for another half-decade of dominance.

And of course Lakers fans wouldn't see anything wrong with this. It's their birthright. Meanwhile the rest of us poor schlupps in our blue and gold, or purple and black, or whatever the hell color combo Milwaukee rolls out next, go back to drinking away our beers and cheering for second round dismissals. 

On Meaningless Experiments

Perhaps to the chagrin of those close to me, I am releasing a blog onto the unsuspecting world. The world is certainly unprepared for the incredible wisdom I am about to drop upon it, but that's ok. They weren't ready for Tiny Tim, either, and now he is a celebrated folk hero.

So, these posts will pretty much be meaningless indulgences about subjects that virtually 98% of the populace wont care about. I am willing to bet that most blogs are of this nature. I seriously found a blog one time about a girl's love for coffee. She nestled pics of her coffee mugs, both with and without coffee in them, into long unending stories of how she would spill coffee on herself while walking to and from class and the bus stop. Thankfully it looks like she either lost interest or discovered the modern invention of cups with lids because the blogs dried up after about four or so.

I don't really have any set plan or anything for this thing. Sometimes it'll be about music I've heard recently or music I've always listened to that I want to wax nostalgic about. Sometimes it'll be pointless discussions about sports. I will warn you right now there is going to be a long discourse spanning weeks about my thoroughly-researched for five minutes theory about how the singular greatness of Michael Jordan directly resulted in lower scoring in the late 90's and early 00's. I'm very proud of it.

No really, this guy was the best basketball player ever!

There you have it. Those willing to stick it out will probably be duly rewarded in the afterlife. As for this life, I make no promises. Allllllll aboard!