A schlemihl writes an ode.

I just wrote a long com­ment at All Things Girls Can Tell, which I auto­mat­i­cal­ly real­ized may be the only time I’ve ever actu­al­ly brought my aca­d­e­m­ic train­ing to bear on South St., where I worked slav­ish­ly for over two years at TLA Video on 4th St.

To me South St.‘s decline rep­re­sents the acqui­es­cence to the Rea­gan Rev­o­lu­tion in that its trans­for­ma­tion from sleazy dive out­let in the 70’s to cor­po­rate-rid­dled out­door mall in the late ’90’s/early ’00’s to its present day strip mall ghost town sta­tus says so much about how con­sumer habits have changed and how they prac­ti­cal­ly affect an urban land­scape. With­out get­ting too Clus­ter­fuck Nation about it, it also demon­strates how busi­ness improve­ment dis­tricts can micro­man­age eclec­ti­cism into obliv­ion.

A schlemihl takes a vacation.

  • Down here in Wild­wood, enjoy­ing some wi-fi, try­ing not to get too much sun all at once, watch­ing the Phils mount yet anoth­er come­back, post­ing 10 runs on the woe­ful Pirates.
  • Dou­ble mean­while: I’m talk­ing with this guy about com­plete­ly over­haul­ing Black­mail Is My Life, mov­ing it off of /blog to its right­ful dot com home with an entire­ly new look, new fea­tures, every­thing. I’m trawl­ing around the web look­ing for neat ideas, wid­gets, any­thing use­ful to make BMIML more inter­est­ing for you…and for me. [This is my cryp­tic way of say­ing that a big part of why I’m often remiss in writ­ing any­thing longer than the blur­by copy I do at work late­ly is that I’m kin­da tired of look­ing at this blog myself and I imag­ine you might be too. I want to change that. Hit me with sug­ges­tions, links to things you like and so forth right there in the comments.]
  • Last­ly: almost done with V. Pre­dictably I’ve got a bit of Pyn­chon fever, but I just caught up with one of my Eng­lish profs from St. Joe’s and she high­ly rec­om­mend­ed David Mitchel­l’s Cloud Atlas, which is going to be my beach read­ing for the rest of the week.

We’re trying out for Manfred Mann’s role in the school play.

As busy as usual:

  • Old Joy proved more love­ly than I expect­ed, rem­i­nis­cent of the 70’s films I love rather than just being a flim­sy imi­ta­tion. Beau­ti­ful­ly shot, ellip­ti­cal and brief, it’s a movie that gives you a lot to think about with­out clang­ing you over the head with polit­i­cal pots and pans or over­wrought exis­ten­tial trac­tus­es, while being both polit­i­cal and existential.
  • S/FJ cel­e­brates his fifti­eth col­umn at the New York­er. If there were a form that would explain why I asked for a sub­scrip­tion I would sim­ply pro­vide his ini­tials. It sure as hell isn’t for David Denby.
  • My Com­cast blog launched yes­ter­day. I list­ed my favorite 28 albums of the year so far, along with a few like­ly can­di­dates that’ll jump into the mix before ’08 gets under­way. Apolo­gies for its appear­ance, but it’s in an embry­on­ic form and I don’t expect it to remain housed in user forums for long, but for now it’ll do. Think of its cur­rent loca­tion as an incu­ba­tor where it can grow strong and healthy.
  • Still haven’t picked up my Mac­book yet. Read­ing the stu­dent dis­count page reminds me that when I arrived at school my dorm had­n’t yet been wired for the inter­net. In fact, most of them under­went ren­o­va­tions in turn after I left for the summer.

A quick one while I’m away.

Things are busier than ever. This week I also start full-time, which is pret­ty excit­ing. I’m work­ing on a new blog [still in stag­ing] for work that I’m real­ly excit­ed about. It’s not any­thing spe­cial yet, but the pos­si­bil­i­ties, o the pos­si­bil­i­ties! I can’t wait for it to launch and grow into some­thing more sophisticated.

Even more inter­est­ing for me at least is the pos­si­bil­i­ty of attend­ing music fes­ti­vals for work next year. SXSW is a no brain­er, but what oth­er fes­ti­vals are worth attend­ing, either here in the States or abroad? Drop sug­ges­tions in the com­ments or shoot me an email.
Meanwhile:

  • Vengeance is Mine: Ima­mu­ra’s grit­ty thriller had the look of my favorite Fukasaku films, but a much more nuanced, per­son­al feel, which made it a grip­ping, fright­en­ing sto­ry about a mur­der­er liv­ing right out in the open.
  • Day for Night:  How I did­n’t see this in my first year as a video store clerk is beyond me. Truf­faut’s take on the film­mak­ing process is much like 8 1/2, a beau­ti­ful, dizzy­ing homage to his favorite films, direc­tors and stars.
  • Attend­ed the Phillies 10,000th loss, entire­ly by coin­ci­dence. We bought tick­ets to see the World Cham­pi­ons return to Philadel­phia back in March hav­ing no idea that they’d drop the 10,000th loss with such keen ignominy. Mis­sion accom­plished. The fol­low­ing night Jamie Moy­er got us start­ed on our way toward 20,000.

You’ve got your cherry bomb!

  • Why oh why did Paper Thin Walls get the rough­est redesign since Chris Ott beset Per­fect Sound For­ev­er with mono­chro­mat­ic grey? I love the new fea­tures [well, at least the stream­ing album stuff] but it’s pre­sent­ed in such a jum­ble. And now my old home the Bull­horn looks bland­er than a bowl of cool por­ridge. Did some­one read No Logo or something?
  • I’m work­ing on a response to Gerd Leonard’s open let­ter to the music industry.
  • Re item one right up there: how many suc­cess­ful social net­work­ing sites are ‘doing things right’, i.e. get­ting per­mis­sions and pay­ing for con­tent? It’s noble to say the very least, but I can’t tell if it makes any sense at least in terms of Leonard’s open let­ter. We’re liv­ing in a world where it’s eas­i­er to beg for­give­ness than ask per­mis­sion after all.
  • Sum­mer feels like a new music drought. With so many bands, why don’t they use say Pitch­fork’s sum­mer fes­ti­val as an oppor­tu­ni­ty to punch up the slow­est sea­son of the year?
  • I’m not sur­prised this hap­pened. See above. In fair­ness, it’s a nice album and it’s fool­ish to think that Spoon will ever per­fect­ly blend the genius of Girls Can Tell with Kill the Moon­light’s abject min­i­mal­ism, so this is prob­a­bly as good as it gets.