My brother, who bailed this week as TV, eh? podcast cohost, instead sent me this beautiful video which is a whole different kind of compelling from the last one I posted. I must get a copy of the song now, too (it’s called Praan by Garry Schyman).
Where the Hell is Matt? (2008) from Matthew Harding on Vimeo.
This is so hysterically bizarre, I just have to post after being obsessed with it since someone sent it to me last night.
Warning: not safe for work language. Also: not safe for people with no appreciation of the surreal.
But I dare you to listen to it and not giggle like a lunatic while quoting its nonsensical bits to the people you just had to forward it to: “Thinks he’s got it going Bossa Nova.” “No way.” “He thinks he’s Captain Tying Knots.” “Who paid for that floor?” “Not my chair, not my problem, that’s what I say.” “Lighthouses rule.” “Seahorses forever.”
What the hell is it? An animated short by musicians Dan Deacon and Liam Lynch called “Drinking Out of Cups.” The story, best as I can tell (from YouTube comments and Wikipedia – always highly reliable), is the words are from a friend of theirs on acid, though the voice is Deacon’s. It worries me a little that I got it in reply to one of my slightly stream of consciousness emails – only the link, no other text, not even a “hey, isn’t this funny?” Think that’s a hint?
I read Robert Pirsig’s Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance when I was way too young to fully grasp it, but the title at least has always stuck with me. It’s the philosophical story of a father and son hitting the open road, and though motorcycles haven’t been kind to my family, and I wouldn’t know how to maintain one to save my life, it’s the zen of the long distance drive that resonates with me, despite my love/hate/mostly-hate relationship with driving.
I recently drove by myself from Vancouver to Los Angeles — 25 hours each way — and that was part of the thrill of a pretty thrilling vacation. There’s no better way to clear the mind as I focus on the road, the music, and my thoughts. I’m not big on audiobooks because my mind drifts, and that’s the point: I like the drift. I like the random connections my mind creates when it has no other expectations placed on it.
It starts with the music I’m listening to. Like that it’s not quite tragic, and definitely not hip, but it saddens me that The Tragically Hip’s “New Orleans is Sinking” rocks, yet no one can ever listen to it again without thinking of Hurricane Katrina. The song’s not about that kind of literal devastation – you’d be hard pressed to say what most of singer and lyricist Gord Downie’s songs are “about” – but that line means something else now: “New Orleans is sinking and I don’t want to swim.”
I notice thematic similarities in songs like “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” by Deep Blue Something and “Such Great Heights” by The Postal Service – a pathetic reaching for connections most of us have been guilty of. In the former there’s the mutual kinda liking of a movie being the one thing a couple has in common, and in the latter there’s matching eye freckles.
When the Indigo Girls start to blast and make my foot start tapping – the left foot, don’t worry — I remember once picking “Closer to Fine” as my theme song and ponder on the still-valid reasons for that: “There’s more than one answer to these questions, pointing me in a crooked line. The less I seek my source for some definitive, the closer I am to fine.”
But then the connection to what’s in the car or around the car is lost, and the mind starts making other random connections. And random connections are the genesis of creativity. How else to explain the brilliance of the peanut butter/chocolate cup? Mr. or Ms. Reese must have been on a long distance drive. It’s well-documented that in business and in life, so often it’s when we’re not thinking of the problem at hand that a solution pops up.
My creative solution to all the world’s woes, from how to make our health care system sustainable to how to get Hollywood to stop recycling ideas? Stick all the decision-makers in a car and set them loose on the I-5.
If you’re feeling a little residual post-strike outrage over this spot, think about who wrote it. Hint: not the network suit.
This is so wrong. So, so wrong. I apologize in advance.
I will have more on JibJab soon – I got to sit down with co-founder Gregg Spiridellis and get a tour of their studios when I was in LA – but today they’ve launched a new Starring You video: you can put yourself into a Snoop Dogg video.
At first, I tried to do the lazy thing and use my own already uploaded head for all 3 roles. I will be in therapy for years, now, trying to get the vision of me seducing myself out of my head. Then I tried to put Hugh Laurie and John Cusack in the supporting roles – hey, I didn’t want to give up the starring role – but now I have to do penance for years, trying to atone for putting them in sexy women’s garb. Finally, I decided to ignore the fact that I’m pandering to the male fantasy. Let’s just say if I were to bat for the other team, I’d want Michelle Pfeiffer and Keira Knightley on my side.
Want to make your own? Visit JibJab – but it’ll cost you $3 to share the video like this. I’ll have a bit more on that in my upcoming article, too.
Has DMc already posted this? I kind of think not; it might have led to tensions at the office if he had. But Stee did. (Stee would be Pamie‘s husband. You know, this girl). I’m sure he, like most people, found it hilarious because it features a young Keanu Reeves reporting on a teddy bear convention. But the stealthy, Canadian-only hilarity comes from who he’s interviewing:
That’s right, the 13-year-old Graham Abbey, who collects teddy bears and thinks it’s cool as long as he doesn’t play with them, grew up to be this studly star of The Border:
Isn’t that adorable? Wonder if he still has the 53 bears?