Songs that Shouldn't Be.

Hello everyone. Owing to the fact that the Grammy's were last Sunday, tonight I wanted to compile a list of popular songs that I don't think should be popular. Some shouldn't even exist. So, buckle up. This is going to be a fun one.

*Disclaimer: This is completely my opinion. The great thing about music (and basically life in general) is that we can like different things and still get along, right? Right.*

10. Nicki Minaj- "Starships"

Every Nicki Minaj song is the same. Start with some strange, alien-like sounds. Add in the same worn out party beat. Next comes the lyrics which, although people insist that they are in English, sound like they're just discordant noises. And she delivers them in a way that tiptoes the line between angry and scary.

One nice thing about this song is that you can make it into a drinking game. Every time she says, "We're higher than a motherfucker," take a shot. You'll be drunk in no time, and you won't care what song is on the radio.

9. Flo Rida- "Whistle"

"Girl, I'm gonna show you how to do it, and we start real slow. You just put your lips together and come real close. Can you blow my whistle, baby?"

I see what you did there. Clever Mr. Rida.

You would think that someone capable of passing off that garbage as a metaphor would be able to spell his own name right, but I guess not.

8. Anything by Ke$ha.

How anyone tuned into her music and decided that she should be on the radio, I will never know. You can practically taste the auto tune.

Plus, she is just really bad at grammar. Newsflash Ke$ha, "imma" isn't a word.

Although, I do like how $he $pell$ her name. I think imma do it. $tarting now.

7. Rhianna- "Umbrella"

This song is annoying.

If I were to write about the rainy weather yesterday, and I said I brought my umbrella, -ella-, -ella, -eh, -eh, -eh you would think I had had a seizure and passed out on my keyboard.

6.  Basically anything by Taylor Swift

This girl gets under my skin.

To prove my point, we'll play a game. Quick, think of any Taylor Swift song. Got it?

Okay, I bet I can guess what it is about. It is either about her falling in love with her prince charming, or it's about her breaking up with another douchebag who was supposed to be her prince charming.

Just stop Taylor. I'm begging you.

5. One Direction- "Best Song Ever" OR "You Don't Know You're Beautiful"

If someone ever asks you what irony means, point them to the first song.

Also, the beginning sounds oddly familiar. I wonder WHO it sounds like. WHO could have written such an entrancing opening to a song? (Hint: Go listen to Baba O'Riley)

 The second one gets on my nerves because, underneath that lovey-dovey, cutesy-tootsie, pop surface is a song that is preaching the wrong message.

"You don't know (OH, OH), you don't know you're beautiful (OH, OH). That's what makes you beautiful."

Wait. Let me get this straight. The girl in the song is considered beautiful for being insecure. It's no wonder we have had a hard time convincing girls to have confidence. I understand that being modest is a good thing, but I think these teenyboppers take it a step too far.

4. Miley Cyrus- "We Can't Stop"

This song is haunted by the old adage, "No publicity is bad publicity," and, unfortunately, it twerked for Miley. Get it? Twerked. Because of her VMA performance. No? All right, I'm done.

She also makes out with a doll of herself in the music video.

Creepy.

3. Bruno Mars- "Gorilla"

Because nothing is more sexy than imagining two gorillas having sex?

2. Pitbull- "Timber"

NO MORE! I WON'T LISTEN TO IT AGAIN!

1. Robin Thicke- "Blurred Lines"

If you have ever talked to me about music, then you have probably had to bear the brunt of this rant already. If you fall into that category, feel free to skip over it.

How this song shot to the top of the charts so quickly, I don't want to know. It is misogynistic. It is revolting. It is … I don't even think I have enough adjectives in my vocabulary to adequately describe my hate for this song.

For one, the music video is a bunch of naked women dancing around.

But, the song itself is too rapey for people to just ignore the lyrics.

"Ok, now he was close, tried to domesticate you. But you're an animal, baby, it's in your nature. Just let me liberate you. And that's why I'm gonna take a good girl. I know you want it. I know you want it. I know you want it." He goes on to say, "I hate these blurred lines."

Come on people. It terrifies me that this song is popular.

Alright, I'm done complaining. I hope you enjoyed my list.

Goodnight.

Am I too Young for an Existential Crisis?

Greetings cyberspace! Tonight I wanted to talk about a novel I recently finished. Well, let me be more specific. As an English major, I'm usually required to read about a novel a week.  The novel I want to talk about is one that I read for entertainment.

I actually reread the novel "The Wind Up Bird Chronicle," by Haruki Murakami. Sometimes I read things twice. Shocker, I know. I could bore you with my 'I-read-things-twice-because-I-like-to-make-new-discoveries-about-something-I-thought-I-had-figured-out' excuse, and, while that is pretty accurate, my real reason is that I have a terrible memory. It's actually frightening. I can read something literally the night before, but when I get to class the next morning it's like the book morphed into something completely foreign over night.

Think ancient, Hebrew documents.

Anyways, Murakami is a very famous Japanese writer who is gaining more notoriety in the United States thanks to his novel "IQ84." He is a very talented writer, and I enjoyed the book. In terms of style, I would say that he has the satirical wit of Pynchon, the bizarre complexity of Kafka, and the magical realism of Marquéz. All of this bound up with sharp, beautiful prose.

I won't summarize the plot for you. Mostly because it is very long, but also because I want you to go and pick up the book. Give it a try. If you hate it after fifty pages, then put it down and leave me a scathing review in the comments section. I can handle it.

There was one specific passage that stuck with me, and, to this day, continues to haunt me. I will give you a small hint for context: the complex plot is loosely structured around a disintegrating marriage. Murakami writes, "Is it possible, in the final analysis, for one human being to achieve perfect understanding of another? We can invest enormous time and energy in serious efforts to know another person, but in the end, how close can we come to that person's essence? We convince ourselves that we know the other person well, but do we really know anything important about anyone?"

Deep breath. Creepy right? And, the longer you think about it, the more anxiety ridden you will become. What do we know about other people? Well, we know what they've told us. We know what they want us to know. We know how they act around us.

But, what do they do when no one is there to watch them? Do they change?

Try going on a date now, I dare you.

After I read and reread the passage, I laid the book open on my chest and ran a list through my head. A list that included people in my life: friends, family members, co-workers, classmates, and sometimes even friendly strangers. Do I really know any of them?

Maybe one of the people on my list didn't mention something important because the timing was wrong. Maybe they pretended to enjoy my stupid jokes to spare my feelings. Hell, maybe one of them killed their grandmother with a shovel and just didn't want to tell me. All are possibilities- albeit hyperbolic possibilities. Especially the one about people not liking my jokes. I'm hilarious.

Even the friendships I've had for years (some since high school). Do I know these friends? Or, have I just convinced myself that I know them. Are there things that they would be afraid to tell me?

Also, the passage is from the point of view of a husband reflecting on his wife. If I had a dime for every time I've heard a couple say (disgustingly, probably in unison), "We don't have any secrets," I'd be a rich woman. I know it's crap. Everyone has secrets. I guess I just never considered the possibility that, despite all my efforts, I might not ever know another person perfectly.

Is it that easy to put on a mask and have people buy it?

I'll end on that somber thought.
Until next time,
Goodnight.

Tonight, I created a blog… again

Hello online world. Tonight I decided to create a blog. Obviously, or you wouldn't be reading this.

I've created many blogs before, but I've always failed to actually go through with writing posts. They get buried in the deep recesses of cyberspace, never to be seen again. I think I get nervous about posting things I've written. Let's face it, the web can be harsh. People can be harsh. I also tend to be self-effacing, so I like to think that nobody would ever want to read what goes on in my mind.

However, I will be applying for writing internships at various companies this summer, and I think that having a well received blog would help my efforts to wade into the writing world- nice alliteration! Also, I write for the Arts & Entertainment section at the Daily Utah Chronicle, and many of the editors have mentioned that having a blog is an important step in most writing careers. So, alas, here I am.

Hopefully, four years of study as an English major, receiving criticism from handfuls of professors and peers, has toughened my skin, and I will no longer feel fear. This is my statement of confidence . . . 

(Those dots are meant to undermine that statement of confidence just enough to ensure that I don't come across as a cocky jerk.)

With all of this being said, I'm pretty technologically illiterate. I know, I know. You think I'm being modest again, but no. This time I'm telling the truth. To prove my point, I will mention that it took me about an hour to figure out how to change my picture on this blog. An hour. But, I'm going to try my best to make everything look nice.

Virtual high fives to anyone who wants to follow me.

Good night cyber world. Be good to me.