March 29, 2009

NT's greatest hits, No. 10 (of 34)

So this time, I'm dropping the idea of picking these songs from my list of all-time favorites at random. Rules are made to be broken, bitch! Here we go…

"Don't Let's Start" by They Might Be Giants
Yesterday, I was among the entertainment at a bachelor party; an hour of custom quiz as part of a day of festivities. The evening's climactic event was an outing to (Le)Poisson Rouge in the Village to see They Might Be Giants in concert, and my payment was an extra ticket to the show*. Good deal. This was not the first time I saw TMBG live—No. 7, by my rough estimate—but it was the first in probably ten years. I'm not all that into them now, but I loved the two Johns in high school and college, which is extremely unsurprising. This is a band that by all rights, has no business still having a career 25 years after they formed. Lucky for them, geeks like me have conquered the world.

My favorite They Might Be Giants song—sadly omitted from last night's playlist (and no, Katie, they didn't do "Minimum Wage" either)—is "Don't Let Start," one of their first singles. I will not write another word (except these) before showing you the outstanding video:




This is another one of those videos that is perfectly attuned to its song—the rollicking interplay of guitar and keyboard, the jerky stop-start rhythm, the ridiculous randomness. I've written before about how I tend to be drawn to rock & roll with just the slightest avant-garde bent, and I think They Might Be Giants is the apotheosis of that idea: They were your typical NYC music nerds who synthesized whacked-out art music into hooky pop songs, Sonic Youth but catchier and a lot less intimidating. It's no wonder they now make their bread and butter as kid-rockers, considering that most current children's entertainment is predicated on the concept of weird for weirdness' sake.

"Don't Let's Start" was a tremendously influential song in my rock & roll development, like so many other tunes on this list. I first saw this video—first heard of the band—in January 1988, when I saw it as part of a Dr. Demento–hosted MTV countdown of "The Most Demented Videos of All Time." (No. 1 was this, which seems about right.) This was one of the initial things that clued me in to the existence of pop music out of the mainstream, a richer, more intriguing, and just plain smarter world of rock & roll beyond the pabulum pumped out by bar mitzvah DJs. Eight months later I discovered classic rock and developed a rock snob disdain for nearly anything made after 1979, but I always kept a place in my heart—for much of high school, the most honored place—for They Might Be Giants, who always seemed to have something fascinating and fun to offer.

Who's doing that now? Fascinating, okay—lots of rock bands now are continually trying new things. But very few are remotely as fun as TMBG was in its heyday.

*This is what we in the trivia business refer to as a lie, or at least a grossly misleading statement. I was indeed paid money for the trivia event; the concert was an excellent bonus. Moreover, the party had an in with the venue, so it didn't cost them anything to add my name to the list. But it sounds more interesting this way.

Earlier editions of NT's greatest hits:
"Suffragette City"
"See-Saw"
"My Name Is Jonas"
"Mr. Tambourine Man"
"Reelin' in the Years"
"Objects of My Affection" and "Crimson and Clover"
"OK Apartment" and "Just What I Needed"

Give in to the hype. GIVE IN!


I've begun Twittering. Don't get excited; I'm tweeting about once a day. I still don't completely see the fun/purpose of this, but I don't want to be that annoying last guy who picks up on a trend, the final holdout anti-Twitter guy six months after it becomes the dominant form of human communication. You know, like this guy or this guy.

So I'm trying. I like changing the status on my Facebook profile with some regularity, but somehow that seems less annoying and/or unnecessary. Also, I'm not much of a text-messager; partly because I have a Flintstones-vintage cell phone, partly because I'm a stickler for punctuation and grammar, and texting can be painful for people like me. (I exaggerate only slightly.)

But that brings me to an interesting observation: Part of my wariness with Twitter is that 140-character communication is not at all conducive to proper spelling, punctuation, grammar, etc. The more power Twitter has, the less power my people have. Yet ironically, the instruction text on the Twitter site itself is well copyedited. Consistent use of the serial comma, the conscious decision to lowercase tweet, use of the phrase 140 characters or fewer, an overall clarity of style that bears the graceful fingerprints of a talented copy editor. It's not perfect—I just spotted a missing period and an em-dash snafu—but it's surprising for a resource that is completely based on noncopyedited text.

Sometimes, it takes so little to interest me. Trivia, folks.

March 25, 2009

The Super Mega Ultra Hard Question of the Week

Of the Week is a rough term, folks, but here it is! Another one! I'm accepting answers till April Fool's Day, Wednesday April 1. A randomly selected right answer wins free admission.

March 24, 2009

Hey, hey, hey, look who it is!

Yesterday morning, I saw Fat Albert on the subway.

Not really, but it was interesting. A heavyset young man, probably around 16, dark skin, close-cropped hair, a red sweater over a wide-collared white shirt, jeans and sneakers. A cartoon character made flesh, there on the 1 train.

Granted, there were some key differences. He was fat, but not at the level of obesity that prompts friends to append the adjective Fat to one's name. Furthermore, he didn't bear much of a facial resemblance to Fat Albert; if I had to guess, this kid wasn't even black (Latino, maybe). He wasn't squeezing music out of a radiator, either.

Somewhat inexplicably, I'm a bit of a Fat Albert fan. Age 9 or 10, the shows I rushed home from school to watch were Gumby, He-Man, and Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids. (I also recall a weekday-afternoon, kid-oriented video-hits show called Hot that I really enjoyed, though I can't find evidence online that such a thing actually existed. Maybe it's a false memory, created to cover up all the ritual Satanic abuse.)

Why did I like Fat Albert? Who knows? Bill Cosby created the show so that African-American kids in the inner city could finally see something like themselves on TV. I was not such a child, although it's not as if I saw myself in any other cartoons—what kid related to He-Man? Or Gumby?

Maybe Fat Albert attracted me with simple good storytelling. Cosby was very dedicated to making it a "wholesome" cartoon; note his line in the theme song: "If you're not careful, you might learn something before you're done. Hey, hey, hey!" I'm not sure how effective this pedagogy was, but Cosby did manage to parlay this show into earning an Ed.D. (doctorate in education). His dissertation was called "An Integration of the Visual Media Via 'Fat Albert And The Cosby Kids'' Into the Elementary School Curriculum as a Teaching Aid and Vehicle to Achieve Increased Learning." No wonder this guy is such a pretentious egomaniac.

I can think of one lesson that Fat Albert taught me: Do not fucking go to jail. Granted, a lot of movies/TV shows/news broadcasts/homeless junkies imprinted this lesson upon my brain, but Fat Albert was definitely in the mix. Check this out—I recall it clearly from childhood, and it's even more shocking upon fresh viewing:



Well, I was scared straight. If not for this specific episode of Fat Albert, I would no doubt be doing 10 to 20 as we speak. I should have gone up to that kid on the subway and said, "Thanks, Fat Albert. Thanks for keeping me out of jail. You're my hero." And he would've responded, "Hey, hey, hey!" And then kicked me in the nuts.

March 22, 2009

Trivial, just for you

I just got home from being the entertainment at a private party, a woman's 60th-birthday party, in fact. With the assistance of B-Cutie Nicki, I did 45 minutes of customized trivia, about this woman's life, interests, etc.

This quiz was considerably more personalized than most of what I've done in the past—100 percent of the material had some direct link to the birthday girl, whether it dealt with personal details (where she and her husband went for the honeymoon) or her interests (she's a Facebook addict, so I played with that). Usually, people want the individualized material mixed in with random, audience-appropriate trivia, which I mostly draw from the BQT storehouse. So it was an interesting project

The Internet makes this easier than it might otherwise be; google nearly anyone and you get something useful (I, for instance, wrote a book about scurvy). But primarily, I've worked out a survey I send to the client, the guest of honor's spouse/children/etc., asking questions about his/her life and interests. Today's subject has two daughters who gave me some pretty juicy details. It would be bad form to reveal too much (I ain't naming names), but here are some examples of what I learned about this woman.

-- She "drives her daughters insane with all her nonsense"
-- She "says she has a crush on Bob Dylan"
-- She malaprops the phrase raise the roof as lift the ceiling
-- She has a cousin who slept with his own mother

Each of these facts was the basis for a different question, which just goes to prove that trivia can be found in nearly anything.

My point? You should hire me to do the same for you.

March 20, 2009

NT's greatest hits, No. 9 (of 34)

I'm changing the numbering scheme of these posts; easier for me to keep track. Nutshell: These are my favorite songs ever, from both genres: rock and roll.

"Suffragette City" by David Bowie
I first heard this song, oh, 1988, 1989, on New York's WNEW-FM, which was the original, and probably all-time best, "classic rock" radio station (I actually interned there for a summer in the 1990s, around the time it was falling apart). More than any other single media entity, this station established my musical taste, providing nearly 100 percent of my daily allowance of rock during my musical-fan formative years (ages 13–15, roughly). It was a great station at the time, playing the unassailable classics of the mainstream rock genre—both hits and deep cuts by the Stones, the Who, the Beatles, etc.—along with a fairly smart assortment of present-day rock; you could always count on it for hearing whatever the new release was by, say, Elvis Costello or XTC.

Now, Elvis Costello and XTC weren't exactly ground zero for "present day" when we're speaking about the late 1980s, but I think that indicates just how unmoored mainstream rock was at the time, and that affected my tastes. I grew to feel that almost anything "new" at the time was sheer crap (hair metal being an iconic genre of that assortment); the classic was inherently better. Apart from making me a snob, this conception blinded me to the excellent rock & roll that was being made, primarily in the underground. If only WNEW hadn't existed and I'd instead discovered WFMU or something, I might have become the teenage punk I often think I was destined to be.

Okay, I'm way off topic here. The point is, limited though my tastes may have been, they were good, and WNEW was a big reason. For example, it gave David Bowie a lot of love, and "Suffragette City" sucked me in the moment I first heard it. It's ridiculously exciting, and the climax of what is his most successful rock album (full title, get ready): The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. A rock "opera" that eschews about 85 percent of coherent plot for sound and style.

"Suffragette City" is a prime example; I didn't even know what the word suffragette meant until several years after I discovered the song, and when you pick the lyrics apart, it's basically a glam-rock version of a frat jock bragging about getting laid. But I feel as if it's a tune whose lyrics were chosen for their sound rather than their meaning. Bowie spins off some great turns of phrase here: this mellow-thighed chick just put my spine out of place, droogie don't crash here, and of course, Wham! Bam! Thank you, ma'am. Combined with positively thrilling music—the false ending is great, the call-and-response Hey, man!s are awesome—these lyrics make this one of the flat-out coolest songs I know. Style in the service of substance; this is what put David Bowie in the rock pantheon, and incidentally what put his music on a radio station like WNEW.

Summer 1990, as a regular at my camp radio station, I unilaterally gave myself a "license to overplay" "Suffragette City." One of the best decisions I ever made.

Earlier editions of NT's greatest hits:
"See-Saw"
"My Name Is Jonas"
"Mr. Tambourine Man"
"Reelin' in the Years"
"Objects of My Affection" and "Crimson and Clover"
"OK Apartment" and "Just What I Needed"

March 19, 2009

In ancient times…

They very first question of the night on Monday was…
Q: At approximately 5,000 years old, what monument is the oldest possession of the British crown?

For no other reason than it got stuck in my head this morning, here's the answer:



Wow, that's actually an awesome song.

The only problem with this scene (and not really a "problem," since the comedy would suffer otherwise) is that we miss out on the song's second verse, which provides more juicy detail in this masterpiece of mixed metaphor and jumbled cultural reference. Enjoy!

Stonehenge!
'Tis a magic place

Where the moon doth rise with a dragon's face
Stonehenge!
Where the virgins lie

And the prayers of devils fill the midnight sky-hy-hy!

Hey!

March 17, 2009

The crowds! The heat!


It was appropriate that we began the video round, "More '80s Music-Video Mash-Ups," with the clip for "Hungry Like the Wolf" (juxtaposed with this song); it was filmed in the sweltering cities of Sri Lanka. And last night, Crash Mansion felt a little Sri Lanka–esque: very crowded and very steamy. And by steamy, I mean literally of an unpleasantly high temperature, not sexual (I've been doing the trivia thing long enough to know that element is rarely in the cards, despite last night's giveaway of this book).

But you were a large, happy, wonderful crowd, my friends; supportive of other teams' Smart-Ass Points, which I always like to see. Two delightfully tacky ones: Q: What's the very Irish name of the traditional wooden walking stick or cudgel, sure to be brandished aplenty at tomorrow’s parade? Someone said, "A bottle opener." Then of course, Q: In 1991, 3 Musketeers adopted its current shiny silver wrapper. What color was it before?, gave us: "Don't you know that all rappers are black?" Funny, but as EDP said, a little offensive, too. (But you can't have one without the other…)

"More '80s Music-Video Mash-Ups" was great, but I was particularly proud of the audio round, "It's Actually Rather Easy Being Green," in honor of St. Patrick's Day. I think I swerved a lot of you by forgoing musical clips (for the most part) and opting for "Green" entities in our culture of pop. Apologies to Strippers for Stephen Hawking for not including Natalie Green (from The Facts of Life), and yes, Alan Greenspan would have been a nice touch (no, that wasn't Alan Greenspan talking about Iraq; it was Rajiv Chandrasekaran, former Baghdad bureau chief for The Washington Post, and probably less than half the age of Greenspan; very interesting conversation here).

As for prizes…let me know how ROOMS a rock romance is, or the 92YTribeca comedy show, for that matter. We're planning (hoping?) to have ongoing relationships with both sets of marketing folks, bringing you a better prize experience.

And DJ GB was back! So wonderful to have her, too—the team is complete once again as we move boldly forward into our best year yet, I swear to fucking God!

Now, the standings. Lots of excitement last night…

1. Cash Cab for Cutie: First victory after many months of heated competition. Yes, yes, they had a lot of people; guess that rule has fallen by the wayside.
2. Sugah Titz: Only a half point away. I assume they will never forget that Mount Everest is on the border of China, not India.
3. Gerard Depardouche: A former dynasty, now perpetually a bridesmaid (if I may mix a metaphor)
4. Jefferson Davis Starship (augmented by returning door queen Sherry)
5. Fantastic Fournicators (a-HA!)

We're back on the 30th with "Soda Pop Haiku." Plenty more on this blog before then…

March 15, 2009

The Super Mega Ultra Hard Question of the Week

Yes! Answer by Sunday, March 22—a randomly selected correct response will win free admission to the show.

March 14, 2009

And on the 14th day, God created Pi

Hey, happy Pi Day.

Today is the 14th day of March. 3/14. Similar to 3.14. Pi (or at least the first three digits thereof). I never noticed that similarity before this week, until several people at my office became inexplicably excited about it and declared a celebration of it yesterday (Friday). And the celebration involved, of course, pie.

Apple pie, key lime pie, chocolate banana pie, several others I didn't peer at too closely, all available for consumption in the common area of the art department. I had none of it. I hate pie, can't stand it. I will not eat cooked fruit. Trust me, I've given all of them adequate opportunity, summoned up my patriotic pride to dig into a hearty slice of old-fashioned apple pie, and it just makes me gag. Apples are beautiful, ingenious works of nature; do not despoil them by applying heat, I beg of you.

Meanwhile, there was at least one savory pie—a Frito pie, smeared with chili and bursting out of the chip bag like a hideous monster in a Stephen King adaptation. This was not for me either; I have always compared the taste of Fritos with the smell of rotten flowers. I got an imagination.

There is one kind of pie I remember enjoying greatly: Hostess Pudding Pies (no longer available, alas).



Actually, now that I see this ad again, and the flavor creeps back into my memory…eh, these were kind of disgusting too. No pie for me. (And yes, you could make a dirty joke here, but I'd appreciate a little originality, thank you).

As for the numbers: Celebrating Pi Day is cute, but it doesn't seem all that special, since 3/14 comes every single year. (I pointed out to someone that the coincidence will be far more potent in six years: 3/14/15.) I was reminded of 9/9/99, the 28th birthday of a good friend, who was especially excited about numerological confluence. Or 8/8/88, when I read in People magazine (one of the few times I ever opened it, I swear) about a large parade in a small Midwestern town called 88. Or, my favorite…

I was listening to the radio on a June day 20 years ago. During the hourly news brief, the announcer stated, "And in a little more than 20 minutes, there will be an amazing occurrence. It will be 1:23 and 45 seconds on June 7, 1989. 1:23:45 on 6/7/89."

I failed to see what was "amazing" about this, but I did not fail to see what was neat. I was in school, and when the moment arrived, my friends and I cheered. And that was it. But I had the distinct feeling that I had lived through and witnessed something that literally comes only once in a lifetime. That happenstance—whatever it means, possibly nothing—would never come back again, at least not till I'm dead and gone from this world. I would live on—adventures, heartaches, successes, battles—and never return to this very point. I was still very young, but for the first time, I felt the weight of time's inexorable passing.

I'm a lot older now. So this makes me depressed. I wish I had some pie.

March 13, 2009

Pull ze strings!

Never let it be said that I don't take advantage of opportunities. This morning, I hyped Monday's BQT on The Volume, Time Out New York's music blog (upon which I toil away the days). Partly it was because the show wasn't listed in the magazine this week, and partly it was because I could. Just try and stop me.

I put it on the music blog (and not the film blog, or the food blog, or the forthcoming magazines-no-longer-exist blog), because this week, of course, it's "More '80s Music Video Mash-Ups." Read all about it here, and play the earlier edition of the game to get sharp for Monday.

March 12, 2009

NT's greatest hits, vol. 6

Let the series continue. Another of my most beloved songs.

"See-Saw" by the Jam
I had some hesitation in putting this song on my list. I mean, I love it; never get sick of it. And I love the Jam. But of all the Jam's outstanding songs, I was reluctant to declare this my favorite. First of all, the lead vocal is by Bruce Foxton, the band's bassist, and not frontman-songwriter Paul Weller. Foxton has a relatively weak voice, and while this isn't the only good Jam song with him up front ("Smithers-Jones" and "News of the World" also come to mind), it feels wrong to give one of his tunes the big nod.

Moreover, "See-Saw" was originally a B-side to the great "Eton Rifles" (1979), never included on a proper album, and I don't want to be one of those pretentious snobs who says, "Oh, you like the Jam? Yeah, I guess their greatest hits is all right, but you'll never understand them unless you hear this vinyl-only Japanese import of a show they did for 45 people in the middle of a hurricane back in 1836." You know what I mean.

But last week, I heard "See-Saw" again in a new light (no comment about what I had ingested), and I realized that truly, it is this titanically talented band at its best. The steady, tension-filled opening explodes into a rollicking mod rhythm, with an exciting back-and-forth dynamic that perfectly suits the song's title. The bitterly resigned lyrics speak to me, as always, but the song reaches an exhilarating zenith in the ending. Foxton, with Weller providing earnest backing vocals, blazes through a recap of the song's salient points ("See-saw/Up and down/Around and round/They say it heals in time/They say you'll feel just fine…). And instrumentally, the song is seamless; the Jam constituted probably the tightest trio in the history of punk rock. Brilliant.

Earlier editions of NT's greatest hits:
"OK Apartment" and "Just What I Needed"
"Objects of My Affection" and "Crimson and Clover"
"Reelin' in the Years"
"Mr. Tambourine Man"
"My Name Is Jonas"

March 11, 2009

A prize bonanza

Excellent news: You could win some really sweet swag at this Monday's show. Oh, I so have the hookup.

Naturally, as always, it'll be $200 for the Fantastic Fourn…er, the winning team. Whoever that might be. Then $50, treats, and some other fun stuff for second place. And various other delights for third through fifth places.

But I've recently renewed contact with the theater marketing organization that hooked me (and you) up a few months ago with tickets to Broadway's The 39 Steps. (Still playing, in fact. Probably still hilarious.) This week, they're donating passes to the Off Broadway musical ROOMS a rock romance. Don't let the whack-job capitalization fool you; I have it on very good authority that this is a kick-ass show. And I love a lady in a Union Jack dress.

Plus…ooh, it never ends…I've managed to get my hands on two tickets for Comedy Below Canal, the weekly Thursday stand-up show at the lovely 92YTribeca (truly, this is an impressive space, and a possible future site of the BQT). The tickets are good for April and May, but next week's show stars Jon Glaser, the ski-mask guy from Adult Swim, along with an incognito Yo La Tengo.

Now my love for you is proven.

March 8, 2009

Karaoke rekap

Last night I went karaokeing with some old friends (including a member of erstwhile BQT regulars the Wandering Jews). We did it right—small, cozy group, renting a private room at a crazy Japanese place. Good times, great oldies.

I sang a total of seven songs, taking a chance : all tunes I had never before attempted (well, save for one; see below). The lineup:

"Spinning Wheel" by Blood, Sweat and Tears: Through osmosis (and my brief career in collegiate a cappella), I know just about every word. That Blood, Sweat and Tears lead singer is very easy to imitate. I kept on the bouncy theme with…

"Friday on My Mind" by the Easybeats: One of my favorite overlooked '60s hits. I had a little trouble hitting the notes on the chorus, but it's got a nice, jaunty rhythm that makes it fun to chant your way through. But I was ready to rock, so I lept into…

"When the Sun Goes Down" by Arctic Monkeys
: Awesome, awesome, awesome. The shifting rhythm, the funny lyrics. You know you have a winner when everyone in the room digs it even though they've never heard it before. Time for a ballad…

"Sister Golden Hair" by America
: Cheesy, but pleasantly affecting. Reminds me of an old girlfriend, who had golden hair and was somene's sister, so it got me sentimental. But I shifted back into rocking with…

"Walking Contradiction" by Green Day: I had no idea what those words were before. Weird vocal rhythm. Fun, but deceptively challenging. Then I once again plumbed the depths of sadness with…

"Across the Sea" by Weezer: Ridiculously depressing tune, but isn't all Weezer? Especially since it's about a relationship made impossible because of long distance, which happens to be a tender topic with me these days. But to finish I went with…

"We Are the World" by USA for Africa: Yes, indeed. This one I've sung once before, successively imitating the various pop stars who sang it the first time (I do a sweet James Ingram). My friends commenting that my rendition was both entertaining and educational, but I don't think I'll be doing it again; you get very lost and tired after a while, due to that drawn-out ending (I can't keep straight which part is Dylan, which is Ray Charles, which is Stevie…).

All in all, I'm a star. Don't forget how lucky you are to be my dedicated fan.

March 6, 2009

NT's greatest hits, vol. 5

We continue. The conceit: I have an iTunes playlist of my 34 favorite songs of all time, and I discuss them here, one by one, in random order. This edition…


"My Name Is Jonas" by Weezer
For a male of my age with a touch of the misfit in them, I suppose this isn't a surprising choice. Weezer's first album hit me a particularly potent time—not yet remotely a man, but couldn't possibly remain a boy—and Rivers Cuomo's intensely potent blend of rock hooks, abject sentiment, and outsider anger absolutely homed in on the tender underside of my psyche. I think that album is an absolute monument of rock & roll (eight of its ten songs are included in my ever-expanding mixtape series), and its opening track, "My Name Is Jonas," is its strongest moment.

Lyrically, I really have no idea what it means (go ahead and take a stab), but I almost feel as if that's part of the song's strength. Impressionistic, the words almost sound as if they were chosen for their sound rather than their meaning, and Cuomo spits them out with such energy that I wonder if any lyrics would have done the job. Probably not; obscure or no, there's something poignant about desperate repeating chants of "making noise!" and "the workers are going home!"

Also, it fulfills a mandate of many of my favorites: It's just a little bit experimental. The forlorn harmonica solo at the end of the raging instrumental solo and the fact that the whole song is in 6/8 time signal to anyone listening that Weezer is infinitely more interesting that the pop-punk pranksters the media framed them as in '94. (I will never understand that. During my music journalism days of the late '90s, I was laughed at—literally laughed at—for suggesting that Weezer's first record was among the top 200 best releases of the decade. Amazing.) I'm a rock purist, of course, little use for the artier genres, but I often feel a seductive pull to any rock & roll that drifts slightly into the realm of the bizarre (hence my love for Devo, although that band will not appear in this blog series). You can see that in a number of my entries so far; kind of unsurprising my favorite Steely Dan song is the one most like a standard rock tune.

A warning about "My Name Is Jonas," though; actually, a warning about all of Weezer's debut album: I find it awfully, awfully depressing. It's clear Rivers Cuomo was (is?) an awfully sad man, and like all great artists, his emotion comes through and digs into the audience. So on a melancholy Friday evening, you might want to dial up something a little more sunshiney. (Try this; a runner-up for this series.)

Next time: A new-wave classic that I played to death on my college radio show? The bombastic anthem of my high-school misanthrope stage? The soundtrack to the night of the best sex of my life? Only the random magic of iTunes can tell.

Earlier editions of NT's greatest hits:
"OK Apartment" and "Just What I Needed"
"Objects of My Affection" and "Crimson and Clover"
"Reelin' in the Years"
"Mr. Tambourine Man"

March 4, 2009

Ol' Slangy, my lexicological friend

In my day job as a copy editor (really, just for fun, since being a quizmaster I'm continually showered with rubies and emeralds), I refer to the dictionary (Merriam-Webster's 11th edition) approximately 17 zillion times a day. Less often referenced, though still a vital tool that holds an honored place on my desk, is the Dictionary of American Slang, third edition, edited by Robert L. Chapman, Ph.D. I'm continually reminded of what an amusing tome this is, and I think I've come to realize that it might be my favorite book of all time. (Tough competition, though.)

Today's amusing example: the entry for the phrase I'll be damned. The book offers a number of variations, including I'll be danged, I'll be hornswoggled, I'll be ding swizzled (?!?), I'll be dipped in shit, and that classic among classics, I'll be a monkey's uncle.

And the definition: "May I be maltreated, confounded, accursed, etc; an exclamation of surprise or determination." This is what I love about Ol' Slangy: applying linguistic formality to the stupidest shit that comes out of human beings' mouths. Amusing juxtaposition is always a thrill.

I can recall the exact moment I first learned that such a thing as a slang dictionary existed. Ninth-grade English class, Mrs. Casapulla, Columbia High School (no, don't go high-fiving me; I was out of that place within a year). She was talking about slang in general, told us about its unlikely codification in various reference manuals, to the shock of both me and, I clearly remember, a classmate bound for fame and glory. "How is that possible?" the future idol and I both asked. "They update it a lot," Mrs. Casapulla assured us.

Eh, not really. For all I know, Robert L. Chapman, Ph.D. died in the French-Indian War, 'cause this thing is seriously out of date (copyright 1995, which is paleolithic in slang terms, especially considering the rise of the Internet since then). It's the time-honored manual, though, so I've stuck with it out of inertia. Some years ago I looked for a more authoritative alternative, but came up empty—most slang dictionaries are extremely selective volumes the size of religious pamphlets, with titles like English as a Second Fucking Language. (Though this looks promising; good thing I can expense book purchases.)

Come to think of it, someone should make an authoritative slang guide online. (Hell, someone should make an authoritative anything online.) Maybe that can be my next career: Internet lexicographer.

March 3, 2009

Yes, the quiz happened last night!

Yesterday was brutal here in N to the Y to the C: snow, slush, hail, darkness, locusts, slaying of the firstborn…wait, no, sorry. (I've been busy working on a new Big Jewish Quiz Thing, for a private Purim party, no lie.) Yet, dozens of you tromped out to Crash Mansion for a delightfully delightful edition of the BQT. Bless you.

Big props to EDP for covering the DJ booth, for our last show before mama DJ GB's return. The man can do it all, and usually does.

"The Proverbial Proverb Thesaurus" was loads of fun (the idiots who booed beforehand can bite me), the "We're Broke!" audio round was depressingly amusing, and we had a bumper crop of Smart-Ass Points last night (congrats to the guy whose girlfriend is "only sleeping with him because he's good at the Big Quiz Thing audio rounds").

And yes, FANTASTIC FOURNICATORS WON AGAIN! Gaaah! I'm going to think of a way to handicap them.

The standings…

1. FF (you know)
2. Gerard Depardouche (looked like they might do it, but alas)
3. Birds of Ill Omen
4. Cash Cab for Cutie
5. Strippers for Stephen Hawking/Jefferson Davis Starship (tie)

Next time: DJ GB! Plus, "More '80s Music Video Mash-Ups" in the video round, and an audio round, "It's Actually Quite Easy Being Green." That last one isn't as obvious as you might be thinking; an experiment, to be sure.

March 2, 2009

Yes, the quiz is happening tonight!

The subways are running.

I had to go to my day job.

This is not Armageddon.

Crash Mansion is open for business.*

The Big Quiz Thing is on tonight.

See you at 7:30pm.

*As far as I know, that is. If they notify me otherwise, I will notify you in this space.

March 1, 2009

The Super Mega Ultra Hard Question of the Week

Yes. Yes! YES!

Another Super Mega Ultra Hard Question of the Week. Starting now, expect them on a more regular schedule.

Send your answer to info@bigquizthing.com by SUNDAY, MARCH 8. A randomly selected correct response will win free admission to the show. You dig? You dig.