Sunday, June 26, 2011
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Poem in Eastleigh
Smoke emanating from no discernible source.
like clotheslines/ Strung-out. hung out to dry.
/Garbage piled high, and a mile wide.
Litter as leisure. little to relieve, either./
Relive? once is enough. No pause, and without a breather./
Fever pitch reached. cease and desist. / Deceased and missed.
Repeat./
As the mist rises. from where? where we resist.
Smoke emanating from no discernible source. And this.
like clotheslines/ Strung-out. hung out to dry.
/Garbage piled high, and a mile wide.
Litter as leisure. little to relieve, either./
Relive? once is enough. No pause, and without a breather./
Fever pitch reached. cease and desist. / Deceased and missed.
Repeat./
As the mist rises. from where? where we resist.
Smoke emanating from no discernible source. And this.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Warmbodys reviewed in The New Yorker
I was reading The New Yorker, and I realized that I can't get through a page w/o coming across a word that--not only do i not know what it means--i've never even heard of it before (Lazlow phrased that just right). I'm also baffled by their use of umlauts. Are they just really strict grammarians, or is there like "another" English for people who think that a one-frame, caption-free cartoon of a dog looking into a hand-mirror is funny? "Reestablish" with an umlaut over the "e"? Really? but maybe im just late.
I do, however, love the conceit of the writing. And as I was listenin to my Warmbodys Weekend joints at the time, a thought occurred. Yes, my own. So as a tribute to my two favorite writers (the first being Benjy and, the second being everyone who's ever written for the New Yorker combined) I thought I'd take a crack at reviewing a Warmbodys track, New Yorker style. Ahem.
"Those privy to the deevolution (umlaut over the second e) of Warmbodys' lyricism will find warm counter-points in the still-rising motifs of their latest concept album, an abbreviated Bildungsroman that sparkles with abated intentionality. While previous works sought to blossom in soil already well-cultivated, their latest proposal reflects a warmer approach to song-writing that produces a virtual fait accompli.
As a producer, Young Hebrew Brother evokes a Chekhovian deprecation. This is nowhere more evident than "Friday (My Only Weapon)," a beat so replete with interwoven ideologies that it must be tempered by a Chaucerian fabliau to retain its own modesty. Note this: a shuddering tour-de-force maintains a single monosonic consistency (pitch-pipe, hitchhike, what women like, thick-type, skin-tight, in-flight, insights, and mixed-right), only to have its virtuosity sublimated within a ribald rejoinder: "now I'm taking blows to the head like my penis in a fist-fight."
This reflects a more pervasive ambiguity, or perhaps a self-conscious awareness of the irrepressibility of form. For his part, Tox implies a stunning renvoi within the dialectics of a Petrarchan Sonnet. Posing at once a problem and its solution, Tox parlays, "romantic mood, it's semantics dude/ I'm the man on the Titanic who didn't like the food." The evocation of Jewish vaudeville is indicative of a new-wave of Jewish rap avant-garde.
The measure of a withering revivalism is assuredly the panache of its resurgence."
ok that was fun. Now on to the Cartoon Caption contest.
I do, however, love the conceit of the writing. And as I was listenin to my Warmbodys Weekend joints at the time, a thought occurred. Yes, my own. So as a tribute to my two favorite writers (the first being Benjy and, the second being everyone who's ever written for the New Yorker combined) I thought I'd take a crack at reviewing a Warmbodys track, New Yorker style. Ahem.
"Those privy to the deevolution (umlaut over the second e) of Warmbodys' lyricism will find warm counter-points in the still-rising motifs of their latest concept album, an abbreviated Bildungsroman that sparkles with abated intentionality. While previous works sought to blossom in soil already well-cultivated, their latest proposal reflects a warmer approach to song-writing that produces a virtual fait accompli.
As a producer, Young Hebrew Brother evokes a Chekhovian deprecation. This is nowhere more evident than "Friday (My Only Weapon)," a beat so replete with interwoven ideologies that it must be tempered by a Chaucerian fabliau to retain its own modesty. Note this: a shuddering tour-de-force maintains a single monosonic consistency (pitch-pipe, hitchhike, what women like, thick-type, skin-tight, in-flight, insights, and mixed-right), only to have its virtuosity sublimated within a ribald rejoinder: "now I'm taking blows to the head like my penis in a fist-fight."
This reflects a more pervasive ambiguity, or perhaps a self-conscious awareness of the irrepressibility of form. For his part, Tox implies a stunning renvoi within the dialectics of a Petrarchan Sonnet. Posing at once a problem and its solution, Tox parlays, "romantic mood, it's semantics dude/ I'm the man on the Titanic who didn't like the food." The evocation of Jewish vaudeville is indicative of a new-wave of Jewish rap avant-garde.
The measure of a withering revivalism is assuredly the panache of its resurgence."
ok that was fun. Now on to the Cartoon Caption contest.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Politics
The main topic of the day, as always in Kenya, is politics. EVERYONE here reads the political news in the newspaper, it's not even a class thing (is it in the U.S.? i feel like it is), and I see the janitor in my building pouring over the newspaper on his breaks (maybe that shouldn't surprise me?). So at lunch today I went to my spot and ordered Ugali, a Kenyan staple ("you can't not eat it and survive," a co-worker told me. side note: it tastes like Matzah balls w/o the soup. really. Rabbi Bienenstock would love it here see prev post). But anywayz, while I was eating it and not not surviving, I saw the Kenyan parliament broadcast on television. Some observations:
1) The bottom-right of the screen had a sign-language interpreter. I'm not a big C-Span watcher, but I'm pretty sure we don't have that.
2) The subject of the session were some "misappropriated funds" from the health/education funds that, miraculously, the Speaker claimed would not affect the budget. That's the kinda money i wanna have; the kind that when u lose it u still have the same amount u had before.
Other thoughts:
Obama's Kenyan father came up in convo, and I, being American, assumed they would take that as a source of pride (who wouldn't want to be associated with America? not serious.). In fact, the woman I was talking to said they were ashamed of Obama's father. Why? "Because he got a woman pregnant and didn't raise the baby. What kind of example of Kenyan fatherhood is that?" Never thought about it that way, but yea, totally. See prev post re: Love Child.
Lastly, a Somali friend asked me if I was Spanish. Now, over the course of my life I've gotten, "what are you?" and "what're you mixed with" ("baking soda," i usually respond) but this dude guessed my Chilean roots right off the bat. "How'd you know?" I said. "I watch a lot of futball," he replied. That doesn't really have anything to do with politics, unless you count Identity Politics. Which I do.
1) The bottom-right of the screen had a sign-language interpreter. I'm not a big C-Span watcher, but I'm pretty sure we don't have that.
2) The subject of the session were some "misappropriated funds" from the health/education funds that, miraculously, the Speaker claimed would not affect the budget. That's the kinda money i wanna have; the kind that when u lose it u still have the same amount u had before.
Other thoughts:
Obama's Kenyan father came up in convo, and I, being American, assumed they would take that as a source of pride (who wouldn't want to be associated with America? not serious.). In fact, the woman I was talking to said they were ashamed of Obama's father. Why? "Because he got a woman pregnant and didn't raise the baby. What kind of example of Kenyan fatherhood is that?" Never thought about it that way, but yea, totally. See prev post re: Love Child.
Lastly, a Somali friend asked me if I was Spanish. Now, over the course of my life I've gotten, "what are you?" and "what're you mixed with" ("baking soda," i usually respond) but this dude guessed my Chilean roots right off the bat. "How'd you know?" I said. "I watch a lot of futball," he replied. That doesn't really have anything to do with politics, unless you count Identity Politics. Which I do.
Religion
Jewish practices that seemed like archaic, irrational rituals to us in Jewish Day School have oddly crystallized into meaning here in Kenya.
Two examples:
1. I remember in 9th Grade Rabbi Bienenstock told us how he could never be alone in a room with a woman who was not his wife, and if he was, he had to leave the door open. This applied even during teacher-student and extra-curricular meetings. The reactions ranged from "that's sexist" (the girls) to "that's stupid" (the boys). But here in Nairobi I've come to find that that is in fact standard practice among some of the most liberal international refugee NGOs. If a male NGO-worker is meeting with a female refugee, he is by protocol required to act as if he in an Orthodox Jew.
2. When keeping Kosher, you're required to wait a certain number of hours (it varies) between eating meat and milk. The reactions in Jewish Day School ranged from "that makes total sense" (the religious kids) to "that's stupid" (everyone else). But now in the Yoga class I'm taking here in Nairobi, the teacher tells us to wait at least two hours between when we eat and when we do yoga. Rabbi Bienenstock would love it here.
Two examples:
1. I remember in 9th Grade Rabbi Bienenstock told us how he could never be alone in a room with a woman who was not his wife, and if he was, he had to leave the door open. This applied even during teacher-student and extra-curricular meetings. The reactions ranged from "that's sexist" (the girls) to "that's stupid" (the boys). But here in Nairobi I've come to find that that is in fact standard practice among some of the most liberal international refugee NGOs. If a male NGO-worker is meeting with a female refugee, he is by protocol required to act as if he in an Orthodox Jew.
2. When keeping Kosher, you're required to wait a certain number of hours (it varies) between eating meat and milk. The reactions in Jewish Day School ranged from "that makes total sense" (the religious kids) to "that's stupid" (everyone else). But now in the Yoga class I'm taking here in Nairobi, the teacher tells us to wait at least two hours between when we eat and when we do yoga. Rabbi Bienenstock would love it here.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
In no particular order
Some stuff:
I went to see a play/poetry reading about Kenyan national identity. It was called "homecoming." I wanted to find a description of the play and post it here, but when I googled "Kenya Homecoming" all I got was 3,400,000 results for "Kanye Homecoming." Oh well. It was really interesting, and had the (somewhat expected) elements that most poetry readings have: jabs at colonialism, anger about racial profiling at airports, and a love story told through an extended metaphor (in this case, surprisingly, science). Afterwards we all went for beers at the bar above the theatre, which would've been normal except for the fact that we were in a Middle School. really. it was like a private Prep School, where on the first floor were crayon drawings of "The Wind in the Willows" and on the second floor were fly-ly dressed Kenyan dudes taking shots and shouting at the television. Nice juxtaposition, actually. Come to think of it, maybe the whole thing was a performance piece and the afterparty was actually the play. But i digress.
Some other things I've did: I went to the "arboretum," which is this beautiful natural park by the Nairobi statehouse. I went on a Sunday, which was my good luck bc everyone was either having a picnic or worshipping something, and both were cool to see. There were groups of people singing in a way I've really only seen on television, and I mean that in the most non-consumerist way possible. It was all beautiful. Except that one crew of faithful people who were just sitting on a log being reprimanded in Swahili by someone clearly displeased with their "naughty/nice" ratio that week. They looked less like devoted attendees at a sermon and more like trouble-makers at recess put in ecclesiastical time-out.
I still don't know how to tip here. I had a beer at the bar and gave the bartender 10% and she literally made the sign of the cross. I'm like, "is this a good thing or a bad thing"?
I went to Nairobi Central Park. It's like New York's, but with less references to John Lennon. I got stopped a lot on the street downtown. Imagine if Times Square only had one tourist a day, and that tourist was wearing a sandwich board that said, "I am the only tourist you will see today." ok its not that bad.
In sum, here are some pictures of my apartment.
alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615972677354896610" />
alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615972674628167666" />
I went to see a play/poetry reading about Kenyan national identity. It was called "homecoming." I wanted to find a description of the play and post it here, but when I googled "Kenya Homecoming" all I got was 3,400,000 results for "Kanye Homecoming." Oh well. It was really interesting, and had the (somewhat expected) elements that most poetry readings have: jabs at colonialism, anger about racial profiling at airports, and a love story told through an extended metaphor (in this case, surprisingly, science). Afterwards we all went for beers at the bar above the theatre, which would've been normal except for the fact that we were in a Middle School. really. it was like a private Prep School, where on the first floor were crayon drawings of "The Wind in the Willows" and on the second floor were fly-ly dressed Kenyan dudes taking shots and shouting at the television. Nice juxtaposition, actually. Come to think of it, maybe the whole thing was a performance piece and the afterparty was actually the play. But i digress.
Some other things I've did: I went to the "arboretum," which is this beautiful natural park by the Nairobi statehouse. I went on a Sunday, which was my good luck bc everyone was either having a picnic or worshipping something, and both were cool to see. There were groups of people singing in a way I've really only seen on television, and I mean that in the most non-consumerist way possible. It was all beautiful. Except that one crew of faithful people who were just sitting on a log being reprimanded in Swahili by someone clearly displeased with their "naughty/nice" ratio that week. They looked less like devoted attendees at a sermon and more like trouble-makers at recess put in ecclesiastical time-out.
I still don't know how to tip here. I had a beer at the bar and gave the bartender 10% and she literally made the sign of the cross. I'm like, "is this a good thing or a bad thing"?
I went to Nairobi Central Park. It's like New York's, but with less references to John Lennon. I got stopped a lot on the street downtown. Imagine if Times Square only had one tourist a day, and that tourist was wearing a sandwich board that said, "I am the only tourist you will see today." ok its not that bad.
In sum, here are some pictures of my apartment.
alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615972677354896610" />
alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615972674628167666" />
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Love Child
This post has nothing to do with Kenya. It's about Diana Ross and the Supremes. More specifically, it argues that the song "Love Child" is one of the most under appreciated pieces of social commentary in the history of American popular music.
I started thinking about "Love Child" when I woke-up unexpectedly at 4 in the morning and decided to make a beat sampling it. Obviously my beat was dope, but i also learned that there's some real deep messages in the song, that i see as breakin-down into five parts:
1. It is, to my knowledge, the only number-one Billboard song (1968) with a central focus on pregnancy. I mean, when was the last time ANY song, #1 or otherwise, referred to, "the child we may be creating"? Keep in mind this is before Roe v. Wade. Also keep in mind that the pill had only recently become legally available for MARRIED women everywhere (1965, Griswold v. Connecticut) but was still not available to UNMARRIED women in many States until 1972 (Eisenstadt v. Baird).
2. It's also, i think, the only number-one Billboard song to advocate abstinence. Even more interesting, its not Christian/religious abstinence, but practical, "sensible" abstinence: she doesn't want to have sex with the guy not bc G-d says no, but bc she straight-up doesn't want to get pregnant. respect.
3. She doesn't want to have sex with him, YET SHE STILL LOVES HIM. This may be the last (first?) time in American music that someone sung a song about not having sex with someone, ha. for real though, compare more recent reasons pop singers cite for not wanting to have sex with somebody: "a scrub is a guy who thinks hes fly..." and "is it worth it? Lemme work it...". In contrast, Diana lets her man know its not about that ("u think that i dont feel love, but what i feel for u is real love") she just don't want that baby.
4. the social stigma of out-of-wedlock children: "in others eyes I see reflected a hurt, scorned, and rejected love child" and "I shared the guilt my momma knew." Damn. usually the most powerful raw emotional material in music is reserved for break-ups, cheating, unrequited love, etc. but this is about a mother-daughter relationship in the context of a single-parent home. pretty heavy social-issues for pop.
5. a woman's view of poverty: "i started school, in a worn, torn dress that somebody threw out." for reasons i dont quite understand, there have always been more songs about being poor by men than by women. this is just another reason why Ms. Ross once introduced "Love Child" as "the song our managers said would never make it."
ok heres the video. a little corny (but it was pre-MTV!), a little Blaxploitation (it was Motown!), but i still see the value in the message. i also love that no one in the video is wearing shoes (why?).
Next on NairobiHomi: Elvis Presley's, "In the Ghetto." Jk. prolly just more about Kenya. but i will say that the Elvis song does confirm the correlation between crime and abortion/unwanted children described in "Freakanomics," which i just read.
btw, when i was writing this post there were some (what sounded like) Muslim calls-to-prayer happening outside my window and some sporadic screaming that i believe (hope) concerned a soccer game. ok now this post is about Kenya.
I started thinking about "Love Child" when I woke-up unexpectedly at 4 in the morning and decided to make a beat sampling it. Obviously my beat was dope, but i also learned that there's some real deep messages in the song, that i see as breakin-down into five parts:
1. It is, to my knowledge, the only number-one Billboard song (1968) with a central focus on pregnancy. I mean, when was the last time ANY song, #1 or otherwise, referred to, "the child we may be creating"? Keep in mind this is before Roe v. Wade. Also keep in mind that the pill had only recently become legally available for MARRIED women everywhere (1965, Griswold v. Connecticut) but was still not available to UNMARRIED women in many States until 1972 (Eisenstadt v. Baird).
2. It's also, i think, the only number-one Billboard song to advocate abstinence. Even more interesting, its not Christian/religious abstinence, but practical, "sensible" abstinence: she doesn't want to have sex with the guy not bc G-d says no, but bc she straight-up doesn't want to get pregnant. respect.
3. She doesn't want to have sex with him, YET SHE STILL LOVES HIM. This may be the last (first?) time in American music that someone sung a song about not having sex with someone, ha. for real though, compare more recent reasons pop singers cite for not wanting to have sex with somebody: "a scrub is a guy who thinks hes fly..." and "is it worth it? Lemme work it...". In contrast, Diana lets her man know its not about that ("u think that i dont feel love, but what i feel for u is real love") she just don't want that baby.
4. the social stigma of out-of-wedlock children: "in others eyes I see reflected a hurt, scorned, and rejected love child" and "I shared the guilt my momma knew." Damn. usually the most powerful raw emotional material in music is reserved for break-ups, cheating, unrequited love, etc. but this is about a mother-daughter relationship in the context of a single-parent home. pretty heavy social-issues for pop.
5. a woman's view of poverty: "i started school, in a worn, torn dress that somebody threw out." for reasons i dont quite understand, there have always been more songs about being poor by men than by women. this is just another reason why Ms. Ross once introduced "Love Child" as "the song our managers said would never make it."
ok heres the video. a little corny (but it was pre-MTV!), a little Blaxploitation (it was Motown!), but i still see the value in the message. i also love that no one in the video is wearing shoes (why?).
Next on NairobiHomi: Elvis Presley's, "In the Ghetto." Jk. prolly just more about Kenya. but i will say that the Elvis song does confirm the correlation between crime and abortion/unwanted children described in "Freakanomics," which i just read.
btw, when i was writing this post there were some (what sounded like) Muslim calls-to-prayer happening outside my window and some sporadic screaming that i believe (hope) concerned a soccer game. ok now this post is about Kenya.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
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