Category Archives: DB/DO NON-NEWS

DIY: Projects For The New Depression

We’re not letting this little blip in the market stop us from keeping up with the Joneses! Here is our first installment in a series on how to remain a brand obsessed, self-centered, consumer during a national crisis



Now there’s time to catch up on the important shit we’ve been missing– the new Black Lips album. That chick who looks like the woman who had the octuplets becoming an actor,WTF? And that promised bipartisanship that we’ve been waiting for.

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Howlin’ Wolf Would Have Fucked Lil’ Wayne Up

Back when guys like Lil Wayne would have been looked at like whining brats, Howlin’ Wolf was getting told he couldn’t use the bathrooms at the places he was playing at. Besides possessing raw energy that has been tried desperately to replicate by everyone from blues colonialist Eric Clapton to scrub-rock king Jack White, Wolf was one scary( and huge) dude. Here’s how he was described by Cub Koda: “no one could match [Howlin’ Wolf] for the singular ability to rock the house down to the foundation while simultaneously scaring its patrons out of its wits.” Vodpod videos no longer available.

Listening to Lil’ Wayne profess his gangsterdom and talk openly about cough syrup addiction — which I though was more associated with soccer moms than gangsters– I kept thinking about how Howlin’ Wolf would have fucked up Lil Wayne. Don’t Laugh At Me :

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Indie Rock Food, Indie Rock Sweat

A few weeks ago The Unblinking Ear made us hip to a distasteful marketing trend. Indie Rock Cardio looks like a last attempt by Chaos, of Main Street Dairy Queen fame, to get the break she’s been waiting for. You Go Girl!!!
For those who think their depth and expertise of punk rock is unsurpassed,or if you are considering Indie Rock Cardio: subscribe to the Unblinking Ear’s podcast to be put humbly back in your place.
A singular object, idea, or institution cannot constitute a trend. Indie Rock Cardio here is your well deserved Look At All These People Biting Off My Shit Award.
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Here is what the ON Network has to say about it’s totally whack Cooking With The Band:

The host is tattooed and goateed Sam Mason—“part rocker, part chef”—of New York’s WD-50, who employs the musical fingers of touring bands for help in making such exotic specialties as black olive cobbler and miso butterscotch halibut (along with more staid creations, like steak and frites and bagels and lox).

I’m not sure if we are supposed to be amazed that bands eat or we should feel so embarrassed by all of the people on the show that we experience some insight regarding human empathy?

Still, I’m happy that I can now cook great meals and not worry about packing on the pounds. Thank god for Indie-Rock!!

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Life In Real Time: Shepard Fairey Arrested

We’re not going to go into how people really don’t know Shepard Fairey because he’s been around a lot longer than those Obama paintings, man. We’re not resentful skateboarders or that weird old dude who keeps showing up at the local all ages shows looking for old friends.

But needless to say, he is the artist who made those three-toned portraits of President Obama that became a ubiquitous part of his campaign.
We will say, Props for keeping it street.
Even after a decade of heavy OBEY fame along with the more recent Obama saturation, Fairey still has time to hit the streets in order to throw up.

There is an insightful side-note to this story that can be explicated about comparative stories in the internet age– Maybe Not.

While Huffington Post claims that Fairey was arrested last traveling to the opening night of his one man show at Boston’s Institute of Contemporary Art, Juxtapoz’ blog has a story about the event without mention to his arrest.
If Fairey was arrested and then attended the event without being shook by the incident the he is a badass.
Either way, we’re proud that we live in an age where we can be told separate and equally interesting narratives about the same person on the same day: It says something about us as a society, or maybe just Fairey.

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Goodbye to Vice’s Dos and Don’ts. Maybe!

Whether or not Vice is fucking around about throwing in the towel after seeing Glamour Magazines bootleg ripoff of their decade old institution is yet to be known. Still, our hearts fluttered with panic when we imagined a world with a little less necessary, random, and undeserved cruelty.

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After almost a decade of Jackass tom-foolery MTV has decided to replace fake retards with real ones.

Here’s how they describe the show’s premise :

“How’s Your News is a documentary news series which features reporters with various disabilities. It began at a summer camp ten years ago. Humor is an important part of life with a disability( and life in general!!), so we’d like you to know that it’s okay to laugh at some of this material. We’re all laughing right along with you…..”

Which is to say: “Let’s have our intern draft a little language up for why this show is funny because it’s disabled people reporting. But let’s make it sound like we don’t want you to laugh. No, I mean we do. But only under certain conditions. Like, life is funny!”

First of all, is MTV having a talk with its 7 year old kid about why the guy at the ice-cream parlor is missing an arm?
How’s Your News? is a documentary that was originally made by the camp counselors at Camp Jabberwocky as a way to document a trip in which the campers produced news as they went across the country.

The reason for HYN? original success was that it empowered the people in the film. It didn’t punish them for being disabled by having to cook with Amy Sedaris.
For one, the comfort the filmmakers have with the subjects voids out any possible pre-occupation with their disabilities as the center of the narrative. The disabilities of the subjects is a premise with which you approach the documentary. Not the dominating theme.
Because of the groups various disabilities, they’re able to probe and question– with both a certain “specialness” as well as a particular brand of seriousness—characters who would otherwise feel self-conscious, judged, paranoid, etc in conversation with a “normal” journalist. (This includes a homeless man in an alleyway and an alcoholic ( he’s gotta be!!) crocodile wrestler.
This brand of natural, genuine, and endearing reportage will fail in the hands of MTV because nothing that is made by that company has any intention of depicting heart-warming “realness”. And although that last sentence sounds like the musings of a teenage girl trying to figure out the implications her first hand-job has by writing in her diary, John Stamos won’t channel the same pathos that interviewing some sad bum does.

One anonymous commenter describes the social effects
HYN? will have on the local mall scene, as well as life expectancies.
Warning, they’re crazy and are probably this persons answer to everything:

“Great. Now there are gonna be a bunch of kids wearing black in the food court at the mall making fun of people with disabilities. This generation is a joke. Did you know that this is supposed to be the first generation ever that doesn’t exceed their parents in life expectancy, average salary, and several other important areas? Every generation in the history of man has progressed more than the previous generation until now. Pathetic.”

Still, let’s hand it to Trey Parker, Matt Stone and the rest of MTV for hoisting us deeper into the swinish LSD-esque warp-zone that our modern reality has become.

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Kanye West Continues His “Fuck-With-My-Fans” Campaign; The Decline Begins: I downloaded a Death Cab For Cutie Album

There’s been a lot of Kanye West hating going on recently– particularly from white-boys trying to gain some cred by claiming he’s mainstream. We get it, you understand the underlying socio-economic reasoning that’s driven hip hop to take it’s current form, you really feel it. But,still, you keep getting your hat stolen!!

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Check out some of the responses to this ridiculous video that Kanye made from what he claims to be a hotel room in Paris. That previous sentence seems to make me sound skeptic of his whereabouts, which I’m not. I’m more stressing the idea that people seem to accept that Kanye is out of his fucking mind, when really he is just fucking with his fan-base and with the concept of celebrity itself.

I think that Kanye at some level understands, in true Warholian fashion( or maybe more Kaufmanian), that not just the stuff you put on tape is “art” but really you can mess with the concept of people’s perceptions by conducting your life as some strange amalgamated version of Sex and the City and The Jeffersons. Kanye understands the absurd nature of unsubtantiated wealth and that rascist America is foaming at the mouth with each piece of gear the Don of Louis Vuitton buys. The end result is some strange imitation of performance art — the effect is like a visual equivalent to that overused Auto-Tune. But still, it is effecting.
Until people realize he is taking the piss, that his brand-obsession, his megalomania, are kind of a joke, an entire generation of black kids will continue to walk around looking similar to Lamar Latrell from “Revenge of the Nerds”.
Which isn’t fair for them!


Now it’s time for me to defend my cred by explaining half-heartedly why I downloaded, and then tossed, the new( i guess) Death Cab For Cutie album. And it’s not becasue Ben Gibbrad is marrying Zooey Deschanel.


I’ve avoided bands like this for a long time and my recent brush with the Gray’s Anatomy soundtrack crowd will keep me in the good — and purposeless– fight of avoiding them for a few more years. When I say bands like this, I mean the type that practice a strange act of musical-mercantilism by going into a particular music scene and stealing that group’s music, then bringing it back to the motherland to trade for gold.
That’s a bit of exaggerated.
Still, I’ve avoided ever texting FOX during American Idol feeling the act alone would bring me too close to the crime scene– that if I could remain a silent observer, I wasn’t observing at all.

But because of the TV, again, I found myself watching and liking this clip late one night when I was doing work.
And that feeling of delusion blanketed-over until the next day, where I struggled with imagining what life would be like if I weren’t such a musical dick. That if I ceased thinking good music was hard to find, I would have something more in common with the people I take the bus with, or see at my therapists office.
And so, for a few days, I struggled to listen to the album.
The thing is I don’t hate this type of music. In fact, Plans has a lot of the qualities I like in music: melodic riffs garnished with heavy pop-sensibilites, self-deprecating yet egotistical lyrical approach.
Finally I settled on a weak food analogy to settle the score I was feeling about Death Cab for Cutie. And while the following metephor is true, I’m aware that DCfC really isn’t that bad, that the problem is more me dealing with the fact that I think if I like that band, it means I’m pretty low-brow and that I have given into some type of cultural apathy.

I remember when I was a kid and my mom used to buy the no-frills Oreo’s and try to convince me they were as good as the real ones. They even said on the box, something like: compare ours, or whatever. But it was too late, I had the real ones and even though they didn’t taste different at all, I was loyal to the original brand.

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Analysis: Put Your Irony Condoms On

All you need to know about Heath Campbell is that he named his kids after Nazis, including a three year old called Adolf Hitler. He and his teeth are on a media campaign to win back his kids who were taken away after a NJ Shoprite refused to inscribe the three year old’s name on his birthday cake.

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Naturally, FOX News sent over their only black reporter who is not a weather anchor in order to incite some blatant irony and add to the ever-plunging deluge of inadvertently helping the bad guy type of stories that outlets like FOX love to exploit.

Yeah, I think it is funny too when Campbell walks haphazardly next to Ms. Jordan and stumbles when he is trying to describe the state of his daughters hair. Because what he wants to say is, “her hair is nappy, like one of your peoples”. But he is being rightfully tarred and feathered, 21st century style, and instead he is forced to articulate and think( simultaneously, none-the-less) without the crap propaganda and hatred.

Talking Bout My Generation

A simple search using the intervals, asshole + metalhead, will easily compact and explain a guy like Heath Campbell’s life and  participation as a member of any significant cultural movement. And while it’s easy to make fun of his ankle length leather jacket, often reserved for dudes who mean to say “Heck, I’m in this  for life now. This mother was expensive.”, Mr. Campbell’s involvement with white supremacy is more troubling.

People like Campbell have the worst type of lives, but not in the way that yields sympathy. Before they even become aware of the self-induced poverty that they are brought up in, they’ve been actively taught to blame other people and often bizarre conspiracies on why their mothers nickname is quarter-snatch. Campbell, of course, contests that it was fear of duplication that forced him to name his three children after three of histories more atrocious figures and one make believe group of people. But, again, Campbell is showing that hint of originality that forced him out towards the margin in the first place.

FOX has been the only large national outlet to cover this story. Folks in New Zealand , Australia, and the UK picked it up  because they think wild, ballsy, and retarded are the three characteristics of American DNA. Exposure like this, while it’s purpose is to incite mock-outrage while scratching our voyeuristic itch to see other peoples fucked up lives, is harmful because Campbell gets to use the tube to plead his case. Period.

Leave this guy in his hole and alone with his misery, his restraining orders, spotty black-out drinking and wife raping and stop allowing racists to creep into our collective conscious. They are participants in the laziest type of activity– their beliefs and power are only as strong as the names they name them.

And that’s not strong!!

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More Non-News—Phelps Smokes Pot

Why is this news?


Phelps looks and acts like every other college kid who sits around trying intentionally to postpone the inevitable monotony that his life as a mortgage broker is guaranteed to become by smoking pot and laughing at things they think are far out.

This clip is probably a  fair indicator of what the Michael Phelps is like most of the time when a camera is not on him.

And, although we wouldn’t want to hang out with him, Michael Phelps seems like a decent guy. He’s a dude’s dude– the kind   who keeps Maxim in print. He has boys, and they hang and watch sports, and commiserate on why the chicks who won’t f them are lesbians. Or whatever!!!

“He didn’t know many people so you’d think he’d be a little shy. But he was loud, obnoxious and slamming beers from the get-go.

“Every girl wanted a piece of him and every guy wanted to be his best buddy. He couldn’t get enough of all the attention.”

The most tiring(and unfortunate) aspect of  what will(quickly) become Michael Phelps future demise is the myth we have created around this kid, so that a picture of him hanging out and getting high has jeopardized his career. We are constantly shocked here by the douche-bags who’ve decided that the most humane way to ruin someone is to give them superhuman qualities. We assume that people in the spotlight aren’t people– that their single purpose is to set examples that us regular folks can never live up to. When those expectations are not met– or even worse our hero’s flash signs of human weakness– us wolves eat them alive.

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