Fresh young talent
Robin sent me a link to a photograph of the Jenga memorial, which got me to thinking about Jenga, one of my favorite games in college. That in turn got me to thinking about Ken Ober, host of the 1980s MTV quiz show "Remote Control," which I adored. After "Remote Control," you see, Ober appeared in some Jenga commercials before he disappeared forever.
So naturally I looked to the web, and soon I dug up this site devoted to Kari Wuhrer, one of a series of pretty women who cohosted the show with Ober and funnyman Colin Quinn. I gather that after "Remote Control," Wuhrer did a series of Skinamax films and now appears on "General Hospital."
What most strikes me about the Wuhrer site is the collection of "Remote Control" clips, not least because in watching them I was reminded that a very young Adam Sandler used to appear as a character called Studboy. Check out this page for some samples.
Sandler has grown on me over the years; I liked his films Punch-Drunk Love and Spanglish very much. That appreciation extends to his trademark moron shtick, seen in early flower on these "Remote Control" clips. Enjoy.
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
Strange request, but true request
Does anyone have a microcassette recorder I can borrow for a couple of days? I need to do some archival work.
Does anyone have a microcassette recorder I can borrow for a couple of days? I need to do some archival work.
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
Plus �a change
I've been looking at 1982 issues of Rolling Stone on microfilm lately, to what precise end I'm not certain. I guess nostalgia is its own end, but this is nostalgia for something I didn't experience directly: that is to say, I didn't read Rolling Stone in 1982, when I was 11, nor did I partake extensively of rock 'n' roll (and at that age, I partook not at all of the concomitant sex and drugs).
But by then I had certainly begun building a library of rock records, Queen and AC/DC and whatnot. In my music collection these LPs still sat next to releases with titles like 20 All-Time Great Children's Hits!; such a strange age. And I had begun to consume more and more pop culture, particularly through the conduit of cable television, from which I learned about whole new worlds of film, music and the arts. I watched cable endlessly then. (I recently subscribed to cable for only the second time in my adult life, and it's breathtaking to me how much it has changed in a generation, not for the better.)
And I especially loved MTV, which taught me about music different not only from 20 All-Time Great Children's Hits! but also from what I mostly heard on the radio in those days: the channel played lots of British New Wave (Madness, the Specials, Fun Boy Three), and punk and punk-inflected music (the Clash, Devo). I realize in retrospect that this programming was not necessarily visionary, that MTV was starving for content and would play virtually any song that had a video clip. But I for one was delighted, at that young age, to learn that not all rock music sounded like Styx. (I recall deeming Styx' videos rather feeble.)
So it's safe to say that my understanding of pop music circa 1982 was largely, almost wholly, informed by MTV. That's why I've been surprised, in reading issues of Rolling Stone from that year, to find virtually no mention of the network that would soon transform the culture. The most substantive reference I've found is a letter written in response to an article about MTV in the December 10, 1981 issue. I looked up the article, which was deeply skeptical of the then-new channel (MTV began cablecasting in August 1981). The main thrust of the article's critique was that the network's economic model could never endure, because MTV relied on record labels (still in a post-disco sales slump) to submit clips, at no cost. Fair enough, and it's telling that MTV today has all but abandoned clips in favor of original programming. But I imagine Rolling Stone was not alone among music-industry players in assuming that the traditional outlets--records, radio, concerts--would continue to thrive and dominate.
This is fascinating, since we all know what happened to the music industry in the wake of MTV. But the article also is instructive on a broader point: powerful people seldom understand new technology. Rolling Stone publisher Jann Wenner was 36 in 1982, and he apparently was prepared to dismiss outright that newfangled MTV thing; meanwhile, kids like me were eating it up. I can't help but be reminded of recent technological trends in pop culture, like file trading. As with MTV, industry people all but ignored file trading--until, that is, it transformed the industry. Now you can download 88-cent songs from Wal-Mart.
I've been looking at 1982 issues of Rolling Stone on microfilm lately, to what precise end I'm not certain. I guess nostalgia is its own end, but this is nostalgia for something I didn't experience directly: that is to say, I didn't read Rolling Stone in 1982, when I was 11, nor did I partake extensively of rock 'n' roll (and at that age, I partook not at all of the concomitant sex and drugs).
But by then I had certainly begun building a library of rock records, Queen and AC/DC and whatnot. In my music collection these LPs still sat next to releases with titles like 20 All-Time Great Children's Hits!; such a strange age. And I had begun to consume more and more pop culture, particularly through the conduit of cable television, from which I learned about whole new worlds of film, music and the arts. I watched cable endlessly then. (I recently subscribed to cable for only the second time in my adult life, and it's breathtaking to me how much it has changed in a generation, not for the better.)
And I especially loved MTV, which taught me about music different not only from 20 All-Time Great Children's Hits! but also from what I mostly heard on the radio in those days: the channel played lots of British New Wave (Madness, the Specials, Fun Boy Three), and punk and punk-inflected music (the Clash, Devo). I realize in retrospect that this programming was not necessarily visionary, that MTV was starving for content and would play virtually any song that had a video clip. But I for one was delighted, at that young age, to learn that not all rock music sounded like Styx. (I recall deeming Styx' videos rather feeble.)
So it's safe to say that my understanding of pop music circa 1982 was largely, almost wholly, informed by MTV. That's why I've been surprised, in reading issues of Rolling Stone from that year, to find virtually no mention of the network that would soon transform the culture. The most substantive reference I've found is a letter written in response to an article about MTV in the December 10, 1981 issue. I looked up the article, which was deeply skeptical of the then-new channel (MTV began cablecasting in August 1981). The main thrust of the article's critique was that the network's economic model could never endure, because MTV relied on record labels (still in a post-disco sales slump) to submit clips, at no cost. Fair enough, and it's telling that MTV today has all but abandoned clips in favor of original programming. But I imagine Rolling Stone was not alone among music-industry players in assuming that the traditional outlets--records, radio, concerts--would continue to thrive and dominate.
This is fascinating, since we all know what happened to the music industry in the wake of MTV. But the article also is instructive on a broader point: powerful people seldom understand new technology. Rolling Stone publisher Jann Wenner was 36 in 1982, and he apparently was prepared to dismiss outright that newfangled MTV thing; meanwhile, kids like me were eating it up. I can't help but be reminded of recent technological trends in pop culture, like file trading. As with MTV, industry people all but ignored file trading--until, that is, it transformed the industry. Now you can download 88-cent songs from Wal-Mart.
Friday, April 01, 2005
Free shipping
I had to pass along this news a former Madisonian sent to the e-mail list of the Ten Percent Society, a gay organization at the University of Wisconsin:
I had to pass along this news a former Madisonian sent to the e-mail list of the Ten Percent Society, a gay organization at the University of Wisconsin:
I wanted to alert you to a problem that I recently experienced with Amazon.com when ordering books for a grad course on Queer Visual Culture course and some books of personal interest in this field.If Amazon sent four books on queer theory and only three Bibles, then it seems to me queer theory is ahead 4-3. It would be funny if there were some kind of mixup, and this guy got Gideon Bibles while nightstands in three hotel rooms somewhere got copies of The Drag King Book.
I just received part of an order I recently placed online including the following items:
* Outlaw Representation : Censorship and Homosexuality in Twentieth-Century American Art
* The Drag King Book
* No Future: Queer Theory And The Death Drive
* In A Queer Time And Place: Transgender Bodies, Subcultural Lives
When I opened the package, I found three unrequested and unwanted Gideon Bibles inserted with my books. Needless to say, I was extremely unhappy with this unwanted proselytizing and sent an angry email demanding to know why this happened and telling them that if it ever happens again, I will no longer be purchasing books from them.
These books discuss the place of queers in film, performance art, and society as a whole.
I have already passed this along PlanetOut and the Seattle Times. Please distribute widely.
Let there be rock
I'm thrilled to number among my possessions a Telecaster that once belonged to Carl Johns, but I must say: I think my next guitar purchase will be a Warlock. Preferably one with a skull.
If Avril Lavigne can have an SG, I can have a Warlock.
I'm thrilled to number among my possessions a Telecaster that once belonged to Carl Johns, but I must say: I think my next guitar purchase will be a Warlock. Preferably one with a skull.
If Avril Lavigne can have an SG, I can have a Warlock.
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
Swamped
Just letting you know, Back With Interest readers, that I am frantically working against a deadline, which normally doesn't keep me from blogging, oh, quite the contrary, but I really must finish this work, and I believe, perhaps superstitiously, that every iota of brain fuel I expend on blogging, to say nothing of time I spend blogging, will divert me from my goal, which is meeting this deadline.
Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a videogame I need to play.
Just letting you know, Back With Interest readers, that I am frantically working against a deadline, which normally doesn't keep me from blogging, oh, quite the contrary, but I really must finish this work, and I believe, perhaps superstitiously, that every iota of brain fuel I expend on blogging, to say nothing of time I spend blogging, will divert me from my goal, which is meeting this deadline.
Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a videogame I need to play.
Monday, March 28, 2005
Cutups
House band the Gomers provided lots of memorable moments at Saturday's Madison Area Music Awards, but my favorite came after the winner was announced in the Best Ensemble Vocals category: the Gomers broke out into an a cappella rendition of the barbershop classic "Hello My Baby" ("Hello my baby, hello my honey, hello my ragtime gal...") that garnered an ovation of its own. It was one of many moments when the Gomers upstaged the honorees, and I say it's all good. Them Gomers is funny.
House band the Gomers provided lots of memorable moments at Saturday's Madison Area Music Awards, but my favorite came after the winner was announced in the Best Ensemble Vocals category: the Gomers broke out into an a cappella rendition of the barbershop classic "Hello My Baby" ("Hello my baby, hello my honey, hello my ragtime gal...") that garnered an ovation of its own. It was one of many moments when the Gomers upstaged the honorees, and I say it's all good. Them Gomers is funny.
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