The Outfielder

This is now a film blog.

I saw a trailer for this documentary called “A Man Having A Baby”. This guy was on Oprah a while back or something. Figured it was worth YouTubing. Turns out, it’s not even a man. It’s a woman who’s had a sex change. That isn’t a man having a baby, it’s a bloody woman with a beard.

I have observed the hipster music scene for some time now, and I finally think I understand it. Here are the three questions I will be exploring in the following article: How do hipsters chose what music goes on their iPod? How do these bands pick their names, and what does it tell us about them? Why do they all have mustaches? And who dates hipsters?

Question #1: How do hipsters chose what music goes on their iPod?

I’ve tried to map out the hipster mind as best I can, and after much deliberation (such a hipster thing to say), I think these might be some of the factors that go into their music taste. Take a look at the questions below, and if the band your thinking of applies to three or more of the criteria, they could be the new favorite band of hipsters everywhere.

Are they signed to a label?

Do they seem like a band that could make it big in the future, so I can be a dick about how into them I was two years ago?

Do most of the band members have beards?

Are they from an obscure country I know almost nothing about?

Do they wear out of style clothes that are in style?

Question #2: How do these bands chose their names?

There are a few basic foundations when it comes to naming indie music bands:

The first, and most common, is the pairing of an adjective and a noun that have no earthly business together. It usually started as a quirky inside joke.

Examples: The Flaming Lips, The New Pornographers, The ladybug Transistor, ect.

The second type of band name is a phrase taken out of the context of a poem or book or something. Usually used to show the band is “seriously deep shit, man”.

Examples: British Sea Power, What Made Milwaukee, Sunny Day Real Estate, ect.

It can also just be the guys name. Usually reserved for singers with deep feelings, shattered souls.

Examples: Elliot Smith, Ben Kweller, ect.

Then there is the exotic, foreign name.

Examples: Bon Iver, Yo La Tengo, ect.

Oh, and the complete gibberish name, which usually belongs to bands who exploit the belief among people of low self-esteem that the more they don’t get it, the more profound it is.

Examples: Neutral Milk Hotel, Jimmy Eat World, Death Cab For Cutie, ect.

Question #3: Why do hipsters have mustaches?

To hide their coke habits.

Question #4: Who dates hispsters?

And the answer is: cute girls who are unbelievably out of thier league. I’m not trying to be mean, just look at this picture:

But the lesson guys everywhere need to take from this is: If you rank anywhere from ugly to average on the looks scale, grow a fucking beard, hit the thrift store, get some American Apparel glasses, find some bands to like (the examples above will do), and above all, say quirky things like: Hey, I watched Casablanca for the first time last night, and you know that scene when she hums a tune to him, and he says nice whistling, what is that about?

And that’s about all for now. Thanks for reading. Check out these songs, you hipster, you:

Turnaroundturnmeone - Sean Hayes

Wake Up - Arcade Fire

Looking For A Fox - Clarence Carter

What I’m Looking For (Michael Brauer Mix) - Brendan Benson

A UFO crashed in my backyard today.. Got him with a Slim Jim.. Nothing inside but a July ‘95 copy of Martha Stewart Living, Hawaiian Drink Recipes.. Make of that what you will, people.

Yeah, I’m gunna defend Amy Winehouse. I don’t care if she went on a drug binge to shame Hunter S. Thompson, I love her voice, and the ease she sings with. It’s like she doesn’t even try, and I love that.

VIRTUE: “I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insnity to anyone, but they’ve always worked for me.”

~ Hunter S. Thompson

otherwise known as, My First 100 Days

Everyone’s talking about Obama. And naturally, I’ve been feeling a little bit of a competition with the guy. I don’t think he knows about it yet, despite my late-night triumphant calls to the White House every time I make an amazing play in Peggle (“Yeah, and what did YOU do today, punk!”).

So now that everyone is making a big deal about HIS first 100 days, I think it’s high time that I get credit for MY last 100 days. I’m calling it “first” in the header, by the way, because “My last 100 days” sounds a tad morbid. I could say “My previous 100 days,” but that sounds a little wanky. So I’m calling it “my first 100 days” meaning, “my first 100 days since Obama became president.” Just so we’re all clear.

Anyway, here’s what I’ve done in this time period, which we can all compare and contrast to the “achievements” of our new President:

* Reorganized my room twice

* Got a vinyl record player, along with a copy of ‘The Wall’

* Took the album cover, and pinned it to the roof, just to be ironic

* Switched shampoos

* Beat Peggle

* Read about Obama’s ‘First 100 Days’ in Rolling Stone

* Started a Twitter account

* Watched the first three seasons of ‘The Wire’

* And a bunch of other TV

* Read all of Hunter S. Thompson’s works

* Went to the gym a couples of times

* Started this blog

* Gave up on this blog

* Ego needed a boost, came back to blog

* Went on a hike

* Took a few naps

* Hung out with my friends

* Ate approximately 15 tacos

* Struggled through ‘100 Years of Solitude’, just to prove I could

* I put out a fire

* Wrote my own song with Garage Band

* Became addicted to the video game ‘Plants Vs. Zombies’

* Read ‘The Sun Also Rise’, by Hemingway

* Had an absurd night on Saturday

* Finished organizing my iTunes

* Finished this blog post

So congratulations on your “accomplishments” Mr. President. But hey, this competition of ours can only have one winner.

Better luck next time. Fucker.

This is Casu Marzu. It’s a traditional Sardinian cheese, soft texture, made from sheep’s milk. This very perticular verity of cheese has a fermentation methode all to it’s own. The cheese is cut into large sphere shaped pieces, then left outside to begin fermentation. Halfway through this process, the eggs of a “Piophila Casei” (that’s a type of fly, with an affection for cheese) are injected into the cheese, usually starting with 500 eggs. One could argue this is less a fermentation period, and more a decomposistion. 

The eggs hatch, and the newly born larvae begin to eat their way through the cheese, until it has all passed through their systems. The acid within the maggots’ digestive system breaks down the cheese’s fats, making it’s texture of the cheese very soft, as I mentioned before. You better be paying attention.

By the time Casu Marzu is ready for human consumption, it will be home to thousands of these maggots. Now the texture of the cheese becomes very, very soft, with some liquid (called lagrima, from the Sardinian for “tears”) seeping out. The larvae themselves are a translucent white colour, with the appearence of a worm about 8 millimeters long. 

When these larvae are disturbed, they can launch themselves forward up to 15 centimeters, leading diners to hold their hands above the cheese while consuming it, to prevent the maggots from leaping into their eyes.

Obviously, there are several food safety issues concerning this cheese. It’s no wonder it’s illegal. If you want to find it, your best bet is to look around the Sardinian black market. Some of the symtoms that lead to the food’s banning include nausea, vomiting, abdominal pain, and other things I care not to cite here. My mother reads this. Or at least she says she does. Mum?

These larvae are also very resistant to human stomach acid, and can easily pass through a human’s stomach alive, taking up residency for some period of time within the intestines. Obviously, this can cause some serious problems, this being the worst of them: the larvae have powerful mouth-hooks, which can lacerate stomach linings or intestinal walls, leaving the larvae to attempt to bore though internal organs.

New York Times cheese critic Mildred Hall described her sampling of Casu Marzu to have “the odiferous qualities of an abandoned chemical toilet with a salty, vinegary flavor not unlike that of sweaty balls.”

~ Paul Schumann

P.S. An apology to Rebecca for stealing her blog’s theme. Do check out her blog. It’s not half shabby. You should see her face at the bottom of this page. Go on and click that.

How The Méduse Was Abandoned

Depicted in this painting are the fifteen surviours of the Médusa, a French frigate and infamous shipwreck, perhaps only eclipsed by the Titanic (and only then thanks to James Cameron). 

During July of 1816, the Médusa was sailing to the port of Saint-Louis in Senegal, when the ship begun to run into increasingly shallow waters. Despite obvious signs of danger - such as white breakers, and mud in the water - Captain De Chaumareys commanded the Médusa to continue on their route. 

The Médusa ran aground 60 miles from the West African coast. Realizing his mistakes too late, De Chaumareys ordered his crew to throw any personal possessions overboard, along with anything else unnecessary for immediate survival.

Onboard the ship, there were fifteen three-ton cannons, which De Chaumareys deemed the property of the king, and thus not thier’s to throw overboard. Due to the collective 45-ton of wieght, the Médusa begun to settle into the sand bank below the shallows, fucking them all royally. 

Plans were soon proposed fill the ship’s lifeboats with crew, and ferry them 60 miles to the nearest coast, which would have taken two, maybe three trips. In addition, De Chaumareys ordered for a raft to be built, so they could tow the remaining supplies onboard the Médusa to the coast. It was built 20 metres in length and 7 metres in width, using wooden panels and materials ripped and torn right of the Médusa. It was nicknamed ‘La Machine’ by the crew.

During the night before the first group of crew members set of for the coast, a gale developed, and within hours, the Médusa begun to show signs of falling apart. In a frenzied panic, De Chaumareys evacuated the frigate, ordering all those who were unable to fit in the ship’s lifeboats to board the raft. 146 men crammed onto the unstable raft, along with one woman, leaving much of it’s deck below water. Seven men decided to stay behind on the Médusa.

Towed by the longboats, the raft set off for the coast.

The Fate of the Longboats

The crew aboard the lifeboats soon realised that towing the raft behind them was impractical. With the consent of De Chaumareys, they cut the tow ropes, leaving the 147 crew members riding the raft to thier own fate. 

The longboats sailed away safely, most landing on the African coast. The majority of the surviour’s begun hiking through the African jungleland, before coming upon Senegal.

The Fate of the Raft

Meanwhile on the raft, the situation begun to rapidly worsen. Their provisions included two casks of wine, and no fresh water. During the first night, one of the casks came loose and floated away. 

On the second night, fights broke out. Twenty died in the brawl. Stormy weather continued to be a threat, and only the center of the raft was secure. Dozens would die fighting to get to it, or because they were washed overboard by waves.

By the fourth day, there were only 67 left alive on the raft. Cannibalism was utilized in replacement of their dwindling previsions. Chunks of flesh were hung from the raft’s mast, in an attempt to dry the meat. The body parts deemed uneatable were used to stuff the growing cracks in the raft.

On the eighth day, the men still strong begun throwing the weak and wounded overboard, until 15 of the original 147 were left. All of these men survived until their rescue, two days later, when a cargo ship accidently stumbbled upon the raft. You can see the cargo ship in the painting, though it is hard to see. Shortly after their rescue, the men were delivered to Senegal, were five of the men died in recovery. 

Aftermath

 De Chaumareys decided to rescue the gold that was still on board the Méduse and sent out a salvage crew, which discovered that the Médusa was still intact. Three of the seventeen men who had decided to stay on the Médusa were still alive 54 days later.

Theodore Géricault

Géricault was captivated by accounts of the widely publicised 1816 shipwreck, and realised that a depiction of the event might be an opportunity to establish his reputation as a painter.

Having decided to proceed, he undertook extensive research before he began the painting. In early 1818, he met with survivors Henri Savigny and Alexandre Corréard, and their emotional descriptions of their experiences largely inspired the tone of the final painting.

According to the art historian Georges-Antoine Borias, “Géricault established his studio across from Beaujon hospital. And here began a mournful descent. Behind locked doors he threw himself into his work. Nothing repulsed him. He was dreaded and avoided.”

He drew and painted numerous preparatory sketches while deciding which of several alternative moments of the disaster he would depict in the final work. The painting’s conception proved slow and difficult for Géricault, and he struggled to select a single pictorially-effective moment to best capture the inherent drama of the event.

Among the scenes he considered were the mutiny against the officers from the second day on the raft, the cannibalism that occurred after only a few days, and the rescue. Géricault ultimately settled on the moment, recounted by one of the survivors, when they first saw on the horizon the approaching rescue ship, which they attempted to signal. The ship, however, passed by.

In the words of one of the surviving crew members, “From the delirium of joy, we fell into profound despondency and grief.”

~ Paul Schumann