I've got you covered...

I take some flak from my friends sometimes because of my distaste for pop music (and indeed pretty much anything that's currently "trendy", but that's another matter). I was being forced to learn the Rihanna song "Umbrella" (ella, ella, eh eh eh, etc.) for a skit earlier, and I was mentioning my distaste for Rihanna. The comment was made that Rihanna was one of the ones who can actually sing and I should respect Rihanna (note the implied admission that there are indeed pop "singers" who cannot sing). I replied that I might respect her if she put some clothes on.

I have in the past mentioned my distaste for things like "Ke$ha" (or Ke-dollar-sign-ha, as I prefer to call her), which like to portray themselves as pop "singers" when in fact they cannot actually sing without the aid of auto-tune. Their primary function is to look hot and be minimally dressed while bouncing about to whichever catchy song someone has written for them to "sing" on that particular day (or, in the event of a live show, lip-synch to).

I remember I was watching an interview with Shaun Morgan once in which he stated that they didn't put a lot of pictures of the band in their album covers/booklets because they didn't want the focus to be on what they look like... they wanted the focus to be on the music. He pointed out that in the case of bands like Tool, almost nobody knows what those guys actually look like. Their faces aren't recognizable, their sound is. The guys from Slipknot all wear masks 100% of the time when they're performing as Slipknot... the only way to know what they look like is to find pictures of them from their personal lives (or collaborations with other artists in the case of Corey Taylor). The focus isn't on whether or not the guys from Slipknot are good-looking... it's on their music.

I was pointing out to the Chamaco in the car earlier that most of the bands I like, such as Seether, Nirvana, Three Days Grace, Shinedown, Lacuna Coil, etc., write their own songs. On the other hand you have artists like Britney Spears, who are mediocre singers but are good-looking, so specially trained monkeys in Sweden write their songs for them and they are paid to sing them (with auto-tune if necessary), then dance around wearing as little as possible and earn money. He agreed this was pretty dumb.

Then as I was wandering about in the inky depths of YouTube this evening after forcing myself to listen to "Umbrella" a few more times, I stumbled upon the original version of a song I only knew the cover version of. The song is called "Losing My Religion", and the original is by REM. I'm new at posting videos in this manner, so hopefully it works, but you should be able to see the original here:



Now I'm not saying that REM sucks... I like some of their stuff. But Lacuna Coil, which happens to be a band that can do almost no wrong in my eyes, comes along and covers "Losing My Religion" and it comes out like this (please note that this is a fan-created video, not official... but the audio is good):



And that thought reminded me that just about everything is better with Lacuna Coil. Even a perfectly respectable band/song like Megadeth's "A Tout Le Monde"....:



... gets a million times better when you add Cristina Scabbia from Lacuna Coil!:



This thought led me to ponder how many other songs get better when covered by a proper rock band. Take, for example, "London Bridge" by Fergie. I recommend not listening to the whole thing... just enough to get the idea:



Now see what happens to it when Bowling for Soup covers it!:



This is not the only song that Bowling for Soup has improved immensely. They also took on one of Britney Spears' earlier travesties, "Baby, One More Time."



Now look what BFS did with it!!! This one is even cooler because I can actually play it on guitar... :)



Even I will admit that Lady Gaga can craft a catchy pop tune, such as the following "Bad Romance":



However, it takes Lzzy Hale and the guys from Halestorm to make the song truly great. Also Lady Caca only wishes she could sing like Lzzy Hale...



And it doesn't stop here... I'm not even done! Of course Seether has been on this bandwagon as well. Take the original 80s George Michael "classic", "Careless Whisper":



Seether had their wicked way with this one, resulting in the following:



And they even did the video with old video games! How awesome is that?!?! Seether has also worked their magic with Frank Sinatra... "I've Got You Under My Skin". Behold, the original:



And now Seether's take on it!:



Seether has also covered "Across the Universe" by the Beatles, but I'll let you dig that one up on your own. And I'll say again... Shaun Morgan can come sing me to sleep any time he wants... ;-)

There's a lot of fantastic improvement of pop songs going on out there, and today I'm especially proud to be a part of the not-so-mainstream rock brother/sisterhood that is improving most of what the music industry machine is currently mass-producing.

Rant over.

Some thoughts on prayer, and other random stuff...

Most of you are probably aware that depression is a thing I've struggled with off and on (mostly on) since high school. Most of you probably aren't aware, however, that I've been going to a Bible-based class on Monday nights at the church in Molalla. We also read from a book called "Happiness is a Choice", which was written by a couple of Christian psychologists whose names escape me at the moment. Don't worry, the prayer stuff I mentioned in the title will happen along in a minute here...

Tonight we were discussing how prayer can aid with alleviating depression. Well, we started out there, anyway... we do tend to wander a bit. A question was raised about praying wrongly, or praying for something you don't actually want... praying insincerely, I guess you might call it. This spiraled into another discussion... why are people so often dishonest in prayer? Do they really think that God doesn't know what's actually in their head and in their heart? Somebody mentioned certain things that they felt they shouldn't tell God about, and my reaction was, "What, you think He doesn't know about that already??"

I was remembering back to something that made a pretty big impression on me as a teenager. I went to a youth rally - I think it was actually in Gold Beach - and the speaker there (I forget who it was, but it may have been Kevin Woods) said something to the effect of, "God is supposed to be like your father, right? So how many of you go up to your dad and say, 'Oh Father who art in the garage, if it be your will please may I have ten dollars?' None of you do that! You walk up to him and say, 'Hey Dad, can I have ten bucks?'" That made a lasting impression on my view of prayer, and perhaps also contributed to my "suburban dad" theory of God (see a previous blog entry for more on this).

Those that know me know that I'm not big on formality. Okay, actually I despise formality. And I REALLY hate it when church people, while in the church, put on a façade of being even more churchy than they actually are. This also applies to prayer. If you're going to speak to God on my behalf in front of the congregation, you'd better be speaking to God, not reciting some prayer you memorized, not using your standard form prayer where the only thing that changes from week to week is the names of the people on the sick list in the bulletin. There are certain people whose prayers I can recite almost word for word along with them, and certain people who I know will use the word 'father' at least 7 times in a 45 second prayer... unnecessarily, at that. Who, in their normal course of speaking to their dad, begins and ends nearly every sentence with the word 'father'? Nobody, that's who. 

And don't misinterpret... I'm all for giving God the respect that is due to him, but I'm also all for continuing to speak regular English. And as a language nerd, it absolutely cracks me up that people who get up to do public prayers start inserting "thee" and "thy" and the like, as if it makes them sound all formal and holy. In actual fact, "thee", "thy", "thou", etc. are the informal pronouns (direct object, possessive and personal, respectively) from old English. Back in the 1500s, you would have used those pronouns with your children or your spouse. The pronoun "you" (which was the formal pronoun) was used only with adults who were not your family members or close friends, and other people who somehow merited a great deal of respect. Most Latin-based and even Germanic languages still have the formal/informal second-person pronouns (usted/tú in Spanish, Lei/tu in Italian, Sie/du in German, and many more no doubt). English, somewhere along the line, lost our informal pronoun (thou) and decided to just use the formal one (you) all the time for everyone. So in actuality, people who think they're sounding all formal and respectful when they say "thou" or "thee" to God are actually talking to him as though he is a child or close family member/friend. And if they go into it with that attitude in mind, I'm marginally okay with it (though not completely okay, since that has fallen out of use in modern English), but most of them are not thinking of it in that light I guarantee you.

And what's with people who think they can't be honest with God, anyway!?!? It's not like he doesn't already know what you're thinking. Me personally, I'm very honest with God in my prayers. "Hey God... I'm pretty ticked off right now, and I need you to help me refrain from saying something unfortunate to _______" is a fairly common opener for me. I can be open with God on a wide range of emotions, from ticked off to depressed to horny (particularly heavy on the horny lately too, I must admit) and everything in between, because I operate on the theory that I'm not telling him anything he doesn't already know. So why pray at all, you ask? Well, I don't know about you, but with most of my close friends I already know when they're upset or whatever without them telling me about it. But of course we talk it over anyway, because that's the sort of relationship we have, and this is how relationships grow and stay strong. See where I'm going with this?

And actually, I think complete honesty is healthy in any relationship, not just your relationship with God. Thinking it over in class earlier, I realized that all of my best friendships are with the people I feel I can say anything to... the ones who know the good and the bad of me and still like me. Just recently I met someone who seems to have a similar approach to communication, and we have gone in just under 3 weeks from complete strangers to what I would term very good friends, and I think it works because neither of us feels the need to hold back anything. I really do feel I could say anything I thought or felt to this person (and this individual will probably receive a cool blog alias sooner or later) and we could discuss it like rational adults and it'd be cool. I like that.

Anyway, we need a Song o' the Day.

Song o' the Day: "Fully Alive" by Flyleaf. See/hear it here. I've chosen this one because it sort of sums up how I feel lately.

I less-than-three "rounded swag"!

The last few days have been riddled with hilarity and brand new catch phrases, so I shall sum up the best I can. :) A few new entries to the encyclopedia/dictionary are in order.

LESS-THAN-THREE (v.): Some of my more Facebook savvy friends have informed me that in order to make those silly little hearts that everyone is so fond of sticking in their status messages, you use the < (less than) symbol, followed by the number three ( <3, get it?). This strikes me as hilarious, and has caused me to go around exclaiming, "OMG! I totally less-than-three you!"

SWANKY LOUNGE, THE (n.): The little corner of the office at SR with a couch and a water cooler in it.

SWANKY FLYSWATTER, THE (n.): The flyswatter hanging in the swanky lounge.

SWAG, ROUNDED (n.): Due to the strict non-celebration policy at work (we do not acknowledge any holidays at all... we might make seasonal projects such as snowmen, but not Christmas trees), I was a little baffled last night at Family Night when I noticed a number of families making something that looked suspiciously like a wreath. (This was made even more funny because earlier in the day one of the teachers was told that she shouldn't have put the wreath picture on something she sent home with the children because it was a holiday symbol). I was informed by one of my co-workers that it was a "rounded swag". I thought that was hilarious as I went about pointing out how a great many of the "rounded swags" had something suspiciously looking like Santa Claus attached to them, and also how my co-worker's own "rounded swag" had the word "NOEL" prominently displayed. We agreed that this was certainly not in any way a holiday statement and that it only meant to signify that the alphabet now has only twenty-five letters.

Another coworker then pointed out that wreaths, as she so boldly refers to them, come in many varieties, not necessarily tied in with any specific holiday... for example, your autumn wreath. Dang it, she's right! Now if only we could beat that through the heads of the administration! Honestly I would have more patience with this policy if we actually had a family among our three classrooms that doesn't celebrate Christmas... but we don't. So "rounded swags" for all, and a joyous no-12th-letter-of-the-alphabet!

WHADDYACALLIT (n.): I had no word for this last thing, but it's pretty hilarious. We have this chair at work that is broken... the backrest, instead of being at the level of the middle of your back, is at about the level of your butt. Lorena and I have had great fun over the last few weeks trying to imagine the body structure of someone who could sit comfortably in that chair, and last night before Family Night we decided we needed to try to make this guy. Thank God for internet, MAD magazine, copiers, and old socks... Also for Lorena, because I less-than-three her.

Initially we tried making this guy with some gloves, but Lorena decided her own hands would probably work better. Apparently he is "voguing" in this first picture, which is an 80s fad that I totally missed what with not having been socially conscious for most of the 80s.

Song o' the Day: "This Time Imperfect" by AFI. For no particular reason other than that it has been in my head a lot.

Teenagers need soccer!

(Note: Those of you whose eyes glaze over when I talk about languages - I'm looking at you, Wong/Muffinhead - should skip down to where you see the asterisks. There's cool stuff after that point and I'd hate for you to miss it because your eyes have glazed over.)

So today I was down in the basement of the SR center and I saw a pair of posters on the wall... the English version proclaiming, "Teenagers need calcium!" (why we have this in a preschool, I'm not sure) and its Spanish twin, "Los adolescentes necesitan calcio!" And I burst into hysterical giggles, because I'm a language nerd.

Perhaps I should explain.

"Calcio", which means "calcium" in Spanish, also happens to mean "soccer" in Italian (though it does mean "calcium" as well... I'm sure that would be confusing if we made an Italian poster to go with the other two).

For those of you who are curious (probably none of you, but oh well), the Italian name for soccer, "calcio", comes from the verb "calciare", which means "to kick". "Calcio" in Italian is also a noun in the sense of "a kick", as in "I gave him a swift calcio in the rear." I find this a bit less sensible than Spanish, which calls soccer "futbol" (foot + ball... not that complicated).

Really the ones who don't make sense are us Americans. (And that sentence.) Where do we get off calling it "soccer" when the entire rest of the world is pretty much calling it "football" (or at least nouning a verb related to kicking)? I mean, even in German - one of the weirder languages I've been exposed to - the game is called "Fußbol". (That weird B thingie sounds like an S, for those of you who don't speak German.)

And now for an end to the lingustic maundering and a beginning to me saying something slightly meaningful.

*****

This afternoon I spent some time under an umbrella with a three year old girl that I don't particularly like. Sure, she can be sweet when she wants to be, but usually if I come home from work wanting to shake a child, she's the one.

It bears mentioning that we were indoors. Sitting on the floor. Under an umbrella.

"It's raining really fast!" she said to me. And she looked up at the umbrella, the and in the light filtering down through the ladybug pattern I could see that she had that look in her eyes... the one that adults don't get anymore unless they've been doing hallucinogenics. It's that look little kids get when they're seeing something you can't see. For her, it really was raining fast in that room.

"Wow, looks like it's raining pretty hard," I commented. "Is it making lots of puddles?"

"Yes," she said. "And mud. You better get on the chair so your butt doesn't get wet."

I got in the chair. Her hugely pregnant mother scowled at me for the ease with which I got off the floor. And the little girl climbed in my lap and held the umbrella over our heads, and together we watched the rain.

Anti-....

Just a short thought this morning.... has anyone else noticed how we are "anti-" everything anymore?

I mean, start with your hand soap, which I'm pretty sure is anti-bacterial if you live in the United States (and probably other parts of the world too). Speaking of things that are anti-bacterial, likely your dish soap is, your toilet/bathroom cleanser is, and any sort of spray cleaner you use to wipe down surfaces in your kitchen is likely to be anti-bacterial as well. Because heaven forbid that our spoiled American immune systems should have to work by having to cope with any of those harmless bacteria (and do they really think you're going to be down there licking the inside of your toilet bowl or what?).

I got some new soap for use in the shower the other day that is not only anti-bacterial, but also claims to be loaded with anti-oxidants which will "help protect my skin against damaging free-radicals that have been shown to be a cause of cancer". I sort of missed the sixties, but I thought the worst the free-radicals were going to do was get you stoned/pregnant. Nice to know they've apparently progressed on to causing cancer... I'd hate to see them unemployed like everyone else. Fortunately, they apparently hate the scent of cranberries. Speaking of which, I got two bars of that soap out in the shower... one lower down for the Chamaco, and one higher up for me. Our entire bathroom smells like anti-oxidant cranberries, and it's the first thing you smell when you come up the stairs. I guess there are worse things.

And then there's that word, "anti-oxidant". "Anti-" is a standard prefix in English generally accepted to mean "against" or "preventing". "Oxidant", however, looks more akin to "oxide" and "oxidization", which are fancy words for "rust". So following that logic, an "oxidant" would be something that causes rust. Therefore, I fully trust that my anti-oxidant soap will prevent my skin from rusting. Thanks, Dial! I was really worried about that skin rust. (Cancer is not a bad thing to avoid either.)

Then there's all those cool drugs you can take nowadays... anti-depressants, anti-psychotics, anti-inflammatories, anti-acids, anti-histamines, anti-podeans... (I just threw that last one in there to see if you were paying attention. An "antipodean" is someone who lives on the opposite side of the earth, and I've heard the term applied to Australians.) But really, what are all our depressants, psychotics, inflammatories, histamines and acids going to do with themselves now that we're all so violently in contro and throwing pills at them right and left? I know a few psychotics, at least, who are going to be standing in the unemployment line.

Have a heart... don't be an anti-psychotic. Lots of psychotics are merely misunderstood and are in dire need of loving homes. But be sure to have your psychotic spayed or neutered, because you wouldn't want that thing breeding!

It smells like Wednesday in here....

Of the people likely to read this blog, one - maybe two - actually understood the joke in the blog title and laughed. Or at least grinned a little. Inwardly. I don't know.

If I were more insecure, I'd think my jokes weren't funny.... nah.

But for the rest of you underprivileged souls, here's the joke. You know how sometimes when English-speaking adults are about to say 's---' and they stop themselves halfway through and say something lame to cover it up like 'shiitake mushrooms'. (Which was actually one of the only funny things in the movie Madagascar, by the way. That and 'Hoover Dam!') Well, they're not alone in that... their Spanish-speaking brethren do it too. The Spanish equivalent naughty word is 'miérda'.

If you giggled right there, incidentally, you're too young to read my blog. Go away. I can use that word, because it doesn't sound bad to me because I didn't grow up speaking Spanish. My Spanish professor had a similar problem... he could swear in English and it didn't faze him one bit, but let someone drop a Spanish F-bomb (which in Mexico starts with C, in case you wondered, though he was from Venezuela by way of Spain and they have all kids of crazy F and C and P and other consonants too words in those places) and he would blush bright red. I miss that guy. I oughta go visit him sometime.

Anyway, getting back to my original point, when Spanish-speaking adults get halfway through 'miér-' and stop and then add something lame to finish, they finish by saying '-coles'. Which makes the word 'miércoles', which means Wednesday. Which means a Spanish speaker could conceivably say something like "Aquí huele a mier... coles." Or, "It smells like.... Wednesday in here."

But the reason I was on about Wednesday... I don't like Wednesdays. Neither does the CTG. Though for me, Wednesday signifies that I am officially past the halfway point in my four-day Head Start workweek, I work enough on the other days that it means little. What it does mean is that I will be home for roughly 45 minutes after church, then I will leave again and not be home until after 9. CTG's reasons for hating Wednesday have more to do with being obliged to take classes where he's the least scary guy in the room. At least this is what I gather. So usually I wish him a happy Wednesday when I see him Wednesday mornings, and he laughs and says "Yeah, right," because he knows that neither of us is particularly fond of Wednesday.

Because is it any wonder, really, that 'miércoles' and 'miérda' are such similar words?

And really where I go on Wednesday night is to church, and overall I like that, but with Emo Steve being all pissy lately it hasn't been quite as fun. Also loads and loads of people have been out sick. Also I probably won't have time tonight to translate any more report cards, so grades 4 and 5 are going to be on hold until domani. (Which is 'mañana', to you English speakers.)

Domani... e per sempre domani
Domani... e per sempre domani
Ti prego toccami le mani, toccami le mani, toccami le mani, tocca mi le mani
Vai via... via le mani dagli occhi...

Sorry. Had a little Negramaro lapse there. (That was me singing in text form.)

Oh, spent some fabulous time on the floor with Ivan last night. Not only is the A7 chord pretty easy, but also I think I'm starting to suck at guitar less despite the fact that I never have time to play, much less build up finger strength. Good thing I'm just naturally tough. I'm thinking I'm going to make a special study of the songs "Sympathetic" and "Driven Under" by Seether (both of which I can already mostly play, 'cause they're cake, I just need to work on that playing and singing at the same time thing)  and "Rain" by Breaking Benjamin, which is much harder than those first two. But hey, a girl's gotta have a goal.