All posts by Lucas
Porcine queues
Check it out:
Happy Panic, live at Shanley Pavilion, Northwestern University, 1996, featuring me, Jeremy, Mike, and I think Vince and Nate.
Peckin Man [MP3, 3.3 MB]
March of the Pigs [MP3, 3.5 MB]
Bunking off
What it might be like
“You’re dreamy.”
“I’m married.”
“I am aware of your marital status.”
“Then what do you hope to gain?”
“Gain?”
“By telling me that I’m dreamy.”
“I’m not sure that I hope to gain anything. I look at you, and you are dreamy, and as I apparently am, in this moment, unfettered by inhibition or self-censorship, I feel compelled to express to you that I find you dreamy.”
“What are you trying to express to me? That I’m dreamy or that you find me dreamy?”
“What do you mean?”
“At first you simply stated I was dreamy. A matter of opinion, sure. But you were only talking about me. Then you said that you find me dreamy, explicitly casting yourself as a finder of dreaminess. In the first case you are simply paying me a compliment, assuming that I find the term ‘dreamy’ to be a compliment. In the second case you are drawing special attention to the fact that it is you who finds me dreamy, implying that finding me dreamy is something that makes you special and worthy of notice.”
“Is there really a difference? Either way you’re dreamy.”
“Yes, but in the second case you are overtly trying to get my attention. Which is bad, because I’m married.”
“Allow me to restate in order to clarify. You are dreamy. I find you to be dreamy. As someone who finds you dreamy I feel like I have an insider’s knowledge of the hip new trends in dreaminess. Others should find you dreamy also, and if they do not it means they do not understand what it means to be dreamy. Certainly there are not many I would consider to be dreamier.”
“Oh. Well, that’s all you had to say.”
Continually concussed
Here’s a treat.
I recently found an old VHS copy of a video my band Happy Panic shot for one of our songs. I believe the intent was that we would enter a Conan O’Brien related college band contest by submitting this video. We did not win. Or if we did, no one in the band told me and I missed the trip to New York.
Everybody singing. That’s me on the right.
Instrumental break. That is still me on the right. It is really remarkable that I did not get more girls when I was in a rock band with fancy cornet moves like that.
Here’s the video, in its entirety, recorded live without a drummer in one of Northwestern University’s film studios. Watch for Vince to wing a tennis ball at the camera towards the beginning.
I’m Always Getting Hit in the Head [WMV, 3.9 MB]
Like ninja
Continuing the Miracle keyboard tribute.
This time, a treat: a brand new song. Well, it’s not really brand new. I wrote it in 1998 or 1999 (I never put dates on anything) and have occasionally revised it since. But it is the first time I’ve ever recorded it. I think. This time around you are not hearing Miracle keyboard sounds, but you are hearing MIDI bleeps and bloops that were programmed in with the valuable assistance of the Miracle, as I bought some fancy sequencing software (and, perhaps more importantly, a MIDI to USB cable) and have put it to use.
Vocals were recorded using Belkin’s voice memo attachment for iPod. It’s a roundabout way to record vocals, but it was the only way I could get any volume at all – my laptop’s mic port leaves much to be desired. But as a result the vocal track is at a low resolution and sounds a little like old-timey radio.
This song, like many of the songs I write, could stand to be a little more dynamic, but the lyrics do exactly what I want them to, and if I held off recording songs until I wrote bridges for all of them I would never get anything recorded. (This song originally had a bridge but it was stupid and I got rid of it.)
Here it is, for your listening pleasure:
Quietly Quick [MP3, 2 MB]
Vanity’s fair
So, continuing this week’s tribute to the Miracle keyboard, which I have resumed playing after years away and will continue to do so until I get bored of it, here is another Miracle-enabled song.
And when I say “this week” I really mean “over my next several posts, whenever they are”, in the same way that “The Daily Hey” means “The Whenever I Feel Like It And Probably Not Even Then Hey”.
I wrote and recorded this one on my four-track one night in the dorm during my junior year of college. Check out the drum solo in the middle (also Miracle-enabled).
I’m So Vain [MP3, 2.9 MB]
The title, of course, refers to a famous Carly Simon song. At the time, I don’t think I’d ever heard the song; I just knew of its existence, and I liked the title, and decided to appropriate it. I thought it would be fun to write a song where the narrator keeps getting distracted and interrupting himself.
Lyrics after the jump.
Lunar geology
I am pleased to announce that, after a six-year sabbatical from the music industry, I have resumed playing the keyboard. Not just any keyboard: my old Miracle Piano Teaching System keyboard. After a few days of intensive/obsessive rehearsal, I have managed to relearn almost everything I knew how to play before. Granted, this does not equal a high quantity, nor quality, of material. But it is truly a strong testament to my desire to find creative ways to avoid doing schoolwork.
So now I can finally get around to recording all the songs I’ve written since 1998. And all the songs I wrote before 1998 that I never recorded. First, though, I have to figure out how to record stuff from the keyboard without also recording the sound of my fingers clacking against the keys. I don’t think it’s supposed to do that when you’re using direct input.
Anyway, to celebrate this probable creative reinaissance I am devoting this week to songs I’ve recorded using the Miracle Piano Teaching System keyboard. Keep in mind that many of these were not intended for public consumption, but nevertheless I was proud of them that the time. Nowadays when I listen to them I have to stop my larynx from reflexively trying to fix my pitch.
Anyway, here’s a Miracle keyboard track, one in a series. Fresh from 1996:
Moon Rocks [MP3, 2.9 MB]
Waits
You’ve got a long, long wait
Until your corpse gets swept away
Into the water.
It will be longer still
Before the government can
Notify your daughter.
Sundays without her
Week 1
Week 2
Week 3
Week 4
Answer key
- A felt-tip pen.
- The bonesaw.
- Remus and Romulus.
- A-C-C-O-R-D-I-O-N.
- 1706–1790.
- Garden gnomes.
- Brief nudity, adult language, and strong sexual content.
- Copenhagen.
- Lenny Kravitz.
- A. Luxor.
B. Luvox.
C. Lexar.
D. Lex Luthor. - A sandalwood deck chair.
- Microsoft Bob™.
- Gerunds and present participles.
- “I always vote for the Irishman.”
- Wrestling, hollering, and playing the organ.
- July 15, 1988.
- Where the jaw meets the neck.
- Gerard Depardieu and Robert DeNiro.
- To defy contemptuously; to exhibit showily.
- In a crater.
- A. Peter Gabriel.
B. Gabriel Byrne.
C. David Byrne.
D. Peter David. - A golf trophy.
- The island of Maui.
- “An Imperial pint.”
- Am, is, are, was, were, do, did, done, have, has, had, should, would, could, be, been, may, might, must, will, shall, and can.
- The Village Green Preservation Society.
- Infrared.
- A furry skull.
- Kara, Erin, Theresa, Erin, Karen, Erin, Regina, Amy, Stephanie, Theresa.
- R.I.B, F.I.R.
- A urethral stricture.
- He discovered and described positive and negative electrical charges.
- Once every two months.
- Lawful neutral.
- About five hours.
- Martin Gardner.
- A. Fifth grade.
B. In the margins of a graded social studies test.
C. Crayon and blue ballpoint pen.
D. Surprisingly accurate. - “Geek syndrome”.
- Mrs. Stevenson and her daughter Polly.
- Foo Fighters, “Learning to Fly”.
- Jack Big-Ass.
- “In the name of the People of Illinois, I command peace.”
Bonus question:
- As yet undetermined.
Dysplasian
Some months ago I was entertaining myself during a dull class by attempting to draw East Asian faces. (For the purpose of simplicity here I am treating the different East Asian ethnicities as if they all look the same.) Here are the results of that experiment:
It was pretty hard to do. Granted, I was working without a visual reference, and it’s not like I filled page after page with non-Asian-looking faces and wondered what the heck I was doing wrong. It was just a doodle during class. But it got me thinking about how cultures define “self” and “other” via iconography.
In Understanding Comics, Scott McCloud theorizes that cartoonishly-drawn characters inherently connect more to readers than realistically-drawn ones, because we tend to see others in detail more often than we see ourselves. He depicts a man and a woman facing each other, having a conversation, and he shows us what’s in their minds. When the woman listens to the man, she has a keen awareness of the details of his face – often enough to pick up on subtle, nonverbal cues. She sees a more complete or “realistic” picture of him.
Meanwhile, though, she maintains an awareness of herself; but because she cannot see herself, she has little more than a vague consciousness that her face is reacting to the conversation. This consciousness isn’t any more detailed than, say, a circle with two dots and a line in it. It’s basically a cartoon. It’s iconic abstraction. We see others as concrete; we see ourselves as abstract. And so you should relate more to Sgt. Snorkel than you do to Sgt. Rock.
It’s a theory.
Well, that may not be what he’s arguing at all, but that’s what I took away from it.
Anyway, I think the same theory can be applied to cultures as well as individuals. White Americans see the iconic representation of a face and see themselves, but it can’t be a Japanese guy because the eyes aren’t slanted enough. Japanese people look at the iconic representation of a face and see themselves, but it can’t be a White American because the mouth is too big. Or too small. Or whatever conception they have of what facially distinguishes White Americans from Japanese.
So I guess what I’m saying is that I could draw a face the way that I usually draw them and see a white guy. A Chinese kid could draw the same face and see a Chinese guy. A Latino kid could draw the same face and see a Latino guy. And so on. Only after we make modifications to our iconography does it begin to represent “the other”. That, and the line between what resembles and what caricatures, is what makes drawing different flavors of people so difficult. For a relative beginner like me, at least. I must overcome my cultural biases if I am to achieve diversity in my art!
Pretty heady stuff from five scribbled faces drawn over maybe ten minutes.
That said, after some more practice, I recently drew a face with a strong East Asian look. Although maybe it just seems that way because of the crude manga-like speed lines I threw into the background:
Simple circuits
Complicated feelings
“I’m sad,” I said.
“Why are you sad?” she asked.
“I’m sad because I think I’m sad,” I said.
“Why do you think you’re sad?” she asked.
“I think I’m sad because I feel sad,” I said.
“Why do you feel sad?” she asked.
“I feel sad because I always feel sad. I’m sad that I think I’m sad all the time,” I said.
(Thirty seconds of silence.)
“Come to think of it, I may not even be sad. It’s possible that I just think I’m sad. This sadness that I feel could be completely fake. That I may have been suckered in by counterfeit sadness saddens me,” I said.
“Why do you think it might be fake?” she asked.
“I know how it feels to feel sad. The feeling of feeling sad is something that I’m very aware of when I’m feeling it. But since this feeling is familiar to me, it is possible for me to feel the feeling without feeling the sadness. And I know I’m feeling it. I can feel myself feeling it,” I said.
“Just because you know you’re feeling something, and can feel yourself feeling a certain way, it doesn’t mean you’re not really feeling it. It’s a real feeling. Feeling is independent of truth. If you feel sad, you are sad, regardless of whether you are actually sad. Feeling is also independent of metafeeling. If you feel sad, you are sad, regardless of whether you feel yourself feeling sad,” she said.
(Thirty seconds of silence.)
“So. Are you sad?” she asked.
“Yes?” I said.
Text-based adventure
You are watching television. It is a game show or something. It doesn’t matter.
Your doorbell rings. You become aware that you are not wearing pants.
> PUT ON PANTS
If only it were that simple. Your pants are nowhere to be seen.
Your doorbell rings again. It sounds somewhat agitated. It’s not, though. It’s a doorbell. It has no emotions.
> OPEN DOOR
Don’t you want to see who it is before you go presenting your tattered, ill-fitting briefs to them?
> LOOK OUT WINDOW
It is a beautiful sunny day.
A man in a dark suit is standing on your doorstep looking impatient. You do not recognize him.
> LOOK ROOM
Your living room is sparsely decorated, as are you. Your television blares loudly in the corner.
From here you can go to: Kitchen, Bathroom
> BATHROOM
You enter your bathroom. It smells vaguely of farts. A bathrobe hangs on a hook on the back of the door.
> PUT ON BATHROBE
You slip into your dirty (but not as dirty as your underwear) terrycloth robe. You feel adequately dressed.
The doorbell rings again, twice in a row.
> LIVING ROOM
You return to your living room. It is as you left it.
> OPEN DOOR
You open the door.
The man in the dark suit nods his head in greeting. “Hello, my name is Mr. Buttons. I’ve been hired to kill you.” He pulls a pistol out of his jacket.
> CLOSE DOOR
Sorry, I don’t understand that command.
> RUN AWAY
Sorry, I don’t understand that command.
> ESCAPE
Sorry, I don’t understand that command.
Mr. Buttons pulls a cartridge out of another pocket and slides it into the pistol.
> PUNCH MAN
Sorry, I don’t understand that command.
> KICK MAN
Sorry, I don’t understand that command.
Mr. Buttons holds the pistol against your forehead.
> DUCK
Sorry, I don’t understand that command.
> QUIT
Would you like to save your game?
> YES
Your game has been saved.
Thank you for playing.