Via a friend via AW, I discovered Girl Talk today. You must listen to this album. Funny, clever, and good music. Go get it. For the local peeps, he’s playing at Toad’s Place in New Haven in 2 weeks.

What makes his stuff cool is that it’s entirely composed of short samples of a bunch of different songs blended together into a new composition. Some of the combinations are just surprising and trying to identify songs is part of the fun. On top of that, hearing an 80s track overlaid with a hip hop track from 2007 or a remake of an old song next to the original just is a cool experience. This guy is talented.

Update: By “this album” I mean Night Ripper. Oops.

First up is Saul Williams take on U2’s Sunday Bloody Sunday. Great cover, interesting video, which features a little part played by Leo Fitzpatrick, still best known for playing Telly in the completely f’d up but powerful film, Kids. If you haven’t seen that movie, you should. Just give yourself time to recover after.

Next up is Buraka Som Sistema’s Sound of Kuduro, featuring M.I.A. among others. My sister got me exposed to M.I.A.’s frantic sound, and Buraka’s track fits her style. The song title and video got me googling a bit, and I now understand the title. Kuduro is a style of music from Angola that then found its way into Portugal. Angola used to be a Portuguese colony, which explains the migration and the fact that a Portuguese artist is behind this track.

Speaking of the Angolan Colonial period, one of the very best books I’ve ever read was about the Angolan Civil War as the last throes of colonialism came crashing down in the 60’s and 70’s. The book is Another Day of Life by Polish journalist Ryszard Kapuściński. It is an amazing book, translated from the original Polish. Absolutely amazing, and a quick read, too. Pulling together the links for this post, I found out that he died last year. He has written some amazing books, and his death is a loss. I need to get some of his other books. I feel like I have Imperium on a shelf downstairs, so maybe that will be the next plane ride/take a break read.

Anyway, back to work with me. Consider this your random music/books/history post of the week.

This past weekend, Governor Ed Rendell was on NPR’s Wait Wait, Don’t Tell Me as the featured guest. As usual, he was awesomely funny and down to earth. For those of you not from the Philadelphia area, Rendell was a popular mayor in Philadelphia and participated in a weekly sports TV show about the Philadelphia Eagles. The guy is a fan, and a knowledgeable one at that.

He’s on the Not My Job segment, and shows that he knows Madonna’s movie resume almost as well as he knows the Eagles.

I was disappointed, however, that he didn’t take the opportunity to reject that punk Tom Brady. What will Donovan McNabb think?

Update: Oops, forgot to mention that I just listened to this via the Wait, Wait podcast. Good stuff, if you haven’t subscribed, do it!

When’s the last time Ben Stiller was in a good movie?

There were a few great movies back there, but his latest stuff is just horrid. Night at the Museum was terrible, barely funny as a kid’s movie. The Heartbreak Kid was horrible. It had it’s moments, but most of it was just too over the top. Stiller plays the same character he plays in everything else, and many of the Farrelly Brothers’ jokes were just too in-you-face to be funny (did we really need the clit ring scene? really?)

I’m not a huge Farrelly Brothers fan, so that might explain it. I liked There’s Something About Mary but haven’t really liked anything else they’ve done. So, consider that the benchmark. If you liked Me, Myself, & Irene or Dumb & Dumber, go for it. Otherwise, stay far away.

One other note, my mom brought this home from the library (they loan out DVDs, too). I’m very glad I didn’t watch this with her, because the bestiality scene, the pee scene, and the two “vigorous” sex scenes would’ve been a bit much to watch with her. Consider that another warning for the non-Farrelly fans.

Heidi and I were able to see Lydia Diamond’s stage adaptation of Toni Morrison’s novel, The Bluest Eye, at the Hartford Stage tonight. If you’re in the area, I recommend taking a night out to see the show. It’s in preview right now and officially opens next Friday.

The Bluest Eye is Toni Morrison’s first novel, published in 1970. Here’s a brief synopsis from Wikipedia:

The Bluest Eye is a 1970 novel by American author and Nobel Prize recipient Toni Morrison. Morrison’s first novel, which was written while Morrison taught at Howard University and was raising her two sons on her own, the story is about a year in the life of a young black girl in Lorain, Ohio named Pecola. It takes place against the backdrop of America’s Midwest as well as the Great Depression. The Bluest Eye is told from five perspectives: Pecola’s, her mother’s, her father’s, her friend Claudia’s, and Soaphead Church’s. Because of the controversial nature of the book, which deals with racism and child molestation, there have been numerous attempts to ban it from schools and libraries.

…

The narrator advises the reader not to look at the “why” of the story but at the “how.” The novel, with child sex, irresponsible adults, and corrupt society seeks to show the misery of black people living in a white society.

…

In the afterword, Morrison explains that she is attempting to humanize all the characters that attack Pecola or cause her to be the way she is; that it is not a matter where one person can be pointed out as being the cause of all this pain.

Ideas of beauty, particularly those that relate to racial characteristics, are a major theme in this book. The title refers to Pecola’s wish that her eyes would turn blue. Claudia is given a white baby doll to play with and is constantly told how lovely it is. … Most chapters’ titles are extracts from a Dick and Jane reading book, presenting a happy white family. This family is contrasted with Pecola’s existence.

Not having read the book, I can’t comment on the similarities between the two stories, but the play keeps the multiple narrators and presents some emotionally tough material. The story is powerful and hard to let go. Pecola’s desire for blue eyes and Claudia’s hatred of her little, white dolls were things I could relate to, not because I want blue eyes, but because these are metaphors for the reminders of one’s race. I’ve been pulled out of line at the border because I wasn’t white, and I’ve been followed by police around Amsterdam because I had a camera and brown skin. I could be the same person, but if I were white, I wouldn’t have to deal with any of that. So, Pecola’s peculiar desire makes sense to me.

The play does a good job of touching on all of these issues in a matter of fact way. Sometimes, you laugh at a joke before realizing that the humor masked a painful truth.

I was confused at some points during the play, and I think it came from the shifting perspective and the fact that several actors played multiple characters. Beyond that, some of the acting was a bit rough (stumbled lines), but forgivable because this is just the third night of the show. Those are really minor issues, and overall the production was excellent.

Being who I am, I have to point out that the set was one of the more interesting ones I’ve ever seen. The set itself becomes a metaphor for how the “how” becomes more and more obvious, and how Pecola is more and more exposed to the world around her. This is the first show I’ve seen where the set involves a fair amount of water. Pecola plays in a puddle on stage at one point and rain makes up a key metaphor at one point of the story.

This was also my first time at Hartford Stage which looks to be a great space. Really enjoyed watching the play in that theater. It looks like a fun place to stage a production.

The Bluest Eye is strongly recommended by both Heidi and I. She may comment more on the story at her blog, since she’s read the original book and teaches Morrison.

Her reaction as her win is announced is pretty awesome, just in it’s simple honesty. If you didn’t see it, take a look. Now, does anyone know who “Ray Ray” and “Joe” are?

I saw this on Slashdot originally, but after AW sent it to me over IM, I finally watched it. It’s actually pretty impressive stuff. Technology is pretty damn awesome sometimes.

I caught the tail end of this on NPR driving into work this morning and was touched by the parts I heard. I was bummed that I missed the beginning but then I remembered a key thing. This being an NPR broadcast, I was able to find the recording online where you can listen to the whole documentary of this remarkable series.

If you don’t know what This I Believe is, it’s basically a radio segment that airs during different NPR shows that features an essay by any person, usually American about what they believe. I never knew the history of the series, which was started in the 50s and hosted by legend Edward R. Murrow. The modern incarnation on NPR features regular folk and on many mornings I’m struck by how eloquent and honest they are.

There’s a podcast for the modern incarnation (iTunes link).

You can submit your own essay at ThisIBelieve.org, or read selected essays online or in the This I Believe book.

I’ll give you a taste of these essays here. The original 1950s show featured distinguished Americans and world figures rather than regular Americans. I’d like to leave you with Robert Heinlein’s essay, which you can listen to at the web site above or in the documentary:

Our Noble, Essential Decency

I am not going to talk about religious beliefs but about matters so obvious that it has gone out of style to mention them. I believe in my neighbors. I know their faults, and I know that their virtues far outweigh their faults.

Take Father Michael, down our road apiece. I’m not of his creed, but I know that goodness and charity and loving kindness shine in his daily actions. I believe in Father Mike. If I’m in trouble, I’ll go to him. My next door neighbor’s a veterinary doctor. Doc will get out of bed after a hard day to help a stray cat—no fee, no prospect of a fee. I believe in Doc.

I believe in my townspeople. You can knock on any door in our town, say “I’m hungry,” and you’ll be fed. Our town is no exception. I found the same ready charity everywhere. For the one who says, “The heck with you, I’ve got mine,” there are a hundred, a thousand, who will say, “Sure pal, sit down.” I know that despite all warnings against hitchhikers, I can step to the highway, thumb for a ride, and in a few minutes a car or a truck will stop and someone will say, “Climb in Mack. How far you going?”

I believe in my fellow citizens. Our headlines are splashed with crime. Yet for every criminal, there are ten thousand honest, decent, kindly men. If it were not so, no child would live to grow up. Business could not go on from day to day. Decency is not news. It is buried in the obituaries, but it is a force stronger than crime.

I believe in the patient gallantry of nurses, in the tedious sacrifices of teachers. I believe in the unseen and unending fight against desperate odds that goes on quietly in almost every home in the land. I believe in the honest craft of workmen. Take a look around you. There never were enough bosses to check up on all that work. From Independence Hall to the Grand Coulee Dam, these things were built level and square by craftsmen who were honest in their bones.

I believe that almost all politicians are honest. For every bribed alderman, there are hundreds of politicians—low paid or not paid at all—doing their level best without thanks or glory to make our system work. If this were not true, we would never have gotten past the Thirteen Colonies.

I believe in Rodger Young. You and I are free today because of endless unnamed heroes from Valley Forge to the Yalu River. I believe in—I am proud to belong to—the United States. Despite shortcomings—from lynchings, to bad faith in high places—our nation has had the most decent and kindly internal practices and foreign policies to be found anywhere in history.

And finally, I believe in my whole race—yellow, white, black, red, brown—in the honesty, courage, intelligence, durability, and goodness of the overwhelming majority of my brothers and sisters everywhere on this planet. I am proud to be a human being. I believe that we have come this far by the skin of our teeth—that we always make it just for the skin of our teeth—but that we will always make it, survive, endure.

I believe that this hairless embryo with the aching oversized braincase and the opposable thumb—this animal barely up from the apes—will endure, will endure longer than his home planet, will spread out to the other planets—to the stars and beyond—carrying with him his honesty, his insatiable curiosity, his unlimited courage, and his noble essential decency. This I believe with all my heart.

Powerful stuff.

Try to guess what song it is before he tells you halfway through.

(via Boing Boing)